CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FOURTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 5TH, 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
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, February 5th, 1877, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR THOMAS WHITE , KNT., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir ROBERT LUSH , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Court of Justice, Queen's Bench Division; the Hon. Sir NATHANIEL LINDLEY , Knt., one other of the Justices of the High Court of Justice, Common Pleas Division; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., Sir BENJAMIN SAMUEL PHILLIPS , Knt., WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, Esq., and DAVID HENRY STONE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir CHARLES WHETHAM, Knt., WILLIAM McARTHUR , Esq., M.P., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., GEORGE SWAN NOTTAGE , Esq., and JOHN STAPLES , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., Judge of the 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. FOURTH 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, February 5th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
BELCHAMBERS and CARTER PLEADED GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. WARNER SLEIGH appeared for Rayner, and MR. RIBTON for Gibson.
JOHN WYNNE . I live at 69, Horseferry Road, Westminster, and am a contractor—I have a number of horses; Belchambers was in my employ as foreman of the yard, and Carter as chaff-cutter—I had about thirty horses in the yard-in consequence of something I noticed I communicated with the police-Rayner was employed by a person named Haylock, who stands his van in my yard-previous to 11th January, I know that sacks and corn were being stolen; I saw that from an examination of my stock—on the "morning of 12th January, I saw three sacks of corn in Rayner's van, after the police had stopped it, the name of T. and G. Wright, corn merchants, who supplied me, was plainly marked on those sacks, and the corn was the Same description as that supplied to me, the value of it was 36s.—no one had any right to remove it.
WALTER BARRELL (Detective Officer B). About 6 o'clock, on the morning of 12th January, I was in company with detectives Preston and Clinch, and saw Rayner coming out of Mr. Wynne's yard, driving a van and pair of horses—I stopped him about 5 yards outside the gates—I told him we were police-officers, and I wanted to know what he had got in the van—he said "Nothing"—I pulled the tarpaulin on one side and saw three sacks—I asked what he had got there—he said he did not know—I asked where he got them from—he said, at first, he did not know—at last he said two men down the yard had put them in; I asked where he was going to take them—to—he said he did not know—we took him to the station and found that the sacks contained oats.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I have known Rayner from a child, he bears a respectable character and has worked for one man all the time I
have known him—Belchambers has been in the prosecutor's service many years.
JOHN PRESTON (Detective Officer). At 9 o'clock on the morning of 12th January, I went to Gibson's yard in Edward Street, Vauxhall Bridge Road, about half a mile from Mr. Wynne's yard—I followed him through the yard into a public-house, with Clinch and Barrell; I asked him if he knew who we were—he said "No"—I said we were police-officers, that we had got Mr. Wynne's foreman and another in custody for stealing some corn, and we should like to look in his stable—we asked him if he had any—he said "Unfortunately I have had some, you can look in the stable," and we did so—he said the last two sacks came last Thursday morning, and that Haylock's man, Rayner, always brought them—on the way to the station he said that all the corn found in the stable had come from Mr. Wynne's, and there were 21 sacks in another sack, which had been brought there by Harrison—he said he had paid Belchambers and Carter, 1l. 12s. 6d. for the two sacks of oats and one of maize, brought the week previous—I afterwards went back with Barrell, and measured the quantity of corn in the stable—there was 9 1/2 sacks altogether—I saw one horse in the van, and a pony he brought into the stable—the corn and sacks were afterwards shown to Mr. Wynne—Gibson said he should toot have done it, only they were always bothering him to have it, and he had been dragged into it by the others.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Belchambers said he had been drawn into it by Brocoli, that is a nick-name of Carter.
JOHN WYNNE (re-examined). The 21 sacks shown to me as coming from Gibson's stable were marked with the name of my corn merchant, and the 9 1/2 sacks of corn was the same as supplied to me—the value of the 2 sacks of corn was 25s. or 26s., and the maize about 13s.
Rayner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I have only to say I took the corn them they asked me to do so."
GIBSON received a good character.
RAYNER— NOT GUILTY .
GIBSON— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
CHARLES RICHBELL . I am assistant to Mr. Potts, a tea dealer, 77, White-cross Street—on 17th January, about 5.30 the prisoner came and asked for an ounce of tea, and half a pound of sugar; is served her—she tenderers a bad 2s. piece—I tested and broke it, and asked her if it was her own make—she said "Is it a bad one"—I said "Yes"—she said "Oh, my God, I have had a drop of gin, I shall be murdered"—I sent in next door for Mr. Carter, who came in—I heard something drop on the floor—I asked her to move on one side, and she did so, and there was another 2s. piece on the floor; Mr. Carter picked it up, it was a bad one—the prisoner denied all knowledge of the second one—I took her name and address, 3, Lauderdale Buildings, Aldersgate Street, a constable was sent for, but she had then left.
GEORGE CARTER . I live next door to the last witness—I was sent for and went to the shop; I saw the prisoner standing in front of the counter—Richbell said she had passed a bad 2s. piece, and dropped another, he pushed her back and there it was at her feet—I picked it up, and said "This is a bad one"—she said "Well, Mr. Carter, you have known me a
good many years, you know I would not willingly pass a bad 2s. piece"—I said I had nothing to do with it, it was not passed in my shop, the best thing she could do was to leave her name and address, and when Ms: Potts returned he could do as he pleased—she gave the name, "Underwood, 3, Lauderdale Building"—I have known her for some years about the streets; I never knew anything wrong of her.
CHARLES CANNON (Policeman G 78). I went to 3, Lauderdale Buildings, the prisoner came in while I was there—I asked if her name was Underwood—she said "Yes"—I said "You will have to go to Old Street station with me" she said "What for," and afterwards she said "Oh, I know; so help me God I will tell you the truth; I was walking along the street, I saw something lying by the kerb in a piece of paper, I picked it up, unwrapped it and found it contained two 2s. pieces; I said this is a godsend, as I have just lost my purse, I went into the shop to get a piece of tea and sugar. I gave the young man the 2s. piece, he told me it was a bad one, I thought the other one was bad, and threw it on the floor"—I took her to the station, where she was charged and 6d. in bronze found on her—I produce the florins which Richbell gave me.
Prisoner. The policeman is wrong about the money being found on me. I took the 6d. worth of bronze out of a box in my room, he saw me do it. Witness. There were several bronze pieces on the top of a chest of drawers; they were not found on her.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate, and in her defence was substantially the same as her statement to the officer.
NOT GUILTY .
216. THOMAS JOHN EDMUNDS , and CHARLES BAKER, Stealing 2,470 copies of a publication, called the "Tichborne Trial," the property of Charlemagne Kenealey and another, the masters of Edwards. Second Count—Feloniously receiving the same.
EDMUNDS PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY defended Baker.
WILLIAM BROOKS . I am manager to the store-room of Mr. John Thorburn, bookseller, he folds the "Tichborne Trial "for Mr. Kenealey—I know Edmunds by his coming to our place from Mr. Kenealey—on 21st December he came for four bundles of the "Tichborne Trial," there are 130 in a bundle—I gave him about 520 copies on that day; altogether he had 2,470 in five weeks; they are 'in weekly numbers—they were to be delivered to Mr. Kenealey; Edmunds told me that he was going to take them to Leather Lane, by Mr. Kenealey's orders; he said he would be back immediately he got rid of his goods—I did not see him again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined. I have been folding the "Tichborne Trial," ever since' it commenced, it has reached 105 weeks—Edmunds has been supplied with them by the Kenealeys for about two years, I think—the published price is 4d. each; there is a book, which the servant of the Kenealeys would have to sign for what he receives—I have not got the book here, it was the usual course to sign it-before this he signed regularly for what he took away.
THOMAS JOHN EDMUNDS (the Prisoner). I have been in the service of Mr. Kenealey about three years—I used to go every week to Mr. Thorburn's for the "Tichborne Trial"—we used to have eighteen bundles every thursday that would be about 130—I took them to the office—I know
the prisoner Baker—I took some numbers to him; I forget the number now, I took them to him on the Thursday before Christmas—he stopped me on the Wednesday night as I was going home, and asked me if I could get him some "Tichborne Trials, "I should never be found out—I took him two bundles, 130 in each bundle—he did not give me anything then, next day he gave me 23s.—the numbers are sold at 3d. each to the trade—I had not taken any to him before, nor did I afterwards; that was the only time—he met me at the corner of a court that leads to Mr. Thorburn's place—I was carrying the parcel on my shoulder, not covered with paper—he gave me the 23s. next day, in Fleet Street-when he asked me to bring him the numbers, he said "I will give you a good price for them, you will never be found out; I know you don't get much here, you don't get enough to keep you; why don't you take a chance while you can get it."
Cross-examined. I told Mr. Brooks that I would come back and sign for the four bundles—I only had two bundles—I was paid weekly wages—I did not go for my wages on the Saturday; I absconded—I told Mr. Ahmed Kenealey that I had not stolen nineteen bundles, I said I had only stolen two—I am not guilty of what I never had—Mr. Kenealey did not say he would do something for me if I would make out a case against Baker—he did not tell me that Baker bad rounded on me, I was told that he had turned on me, and I was to keep out of the way; that was after I had absconded—I was told that by one of the men that Baker used to deal with—I know that Baker had a stand at the "Standard" newspaper office; I don't know for how long—he had a stand once a week at the corner of Bouverie Street to sell the "Englishman"—I never stole anything but these two bundles—I have been employed in the "Englishman" office as a porter—they will not take back unsold numbers of the trial—they never sell a quire unless it is over ten quires for less than 3s. 10d
CHARLEMAGNE KENEALEY . I am a publisher, at 63, Fleet Street—I sell the "Englishman" and the "Tichborne Trial"—I know Baker; I have been in the habit of selling both publications to him direct; he has come to our premises to purchase them—the trial was sold by the quire, twenty-six to the quire; he paid 5s. 4d. a quire—I recollect Edmunds absconding—on examining our stock, I missed certain numbers of the "Tichborne Trial"—I saw Baker at our office on the morning of 10th January—he came there in the usual course; he came every Thursday morning—I don't think I said anything to him at the office that morning; he was taken into custody there; I had given instructions to have him arrested in the expectation that he would come; the constable came in immediately after him—I heard the constable say that he should take him into custody on a charge of receiving a certain number of the "Tichborne Trial," well knowing them to have been stolen—he said "I am very sorry"—I and my brother afterwards went to the police-station—in the presence of the inspector, the prisoner said "Can I have a private interview with these gentlemen?"—he was allowed to have an interview with me and my brother—he first said "I have been led into this by others, Mr. Kenealey; I hope you don't want to press this against me?"—I answered "If you give me the names of your accomplices, we may be inclined to get you as light a sentence as possible"—he said that unless I made a promise not to proceed against him he would give no information—I told him that I could not enter into conditions at all—he said "I will pay you the value of the "Tichborne Trials" that are missing, if you will let me off"—I believe we
had stated in the presence of the prisoner and the inspector that the value was 25l.—I answered that I could not compound a felony—he said it was impossible to be honest in the news trade, if a man wanted to be honest they would not allow him to be so—he also said if we had taken more precautions we should not have been robbed-Edmunds was afterwards brought into his presence, and Edmunds said to him "You led me into this," or words to that effect-Baker replied "No; I did not lead you into it."
Cross-examined. I believe Baker was in the habit of coming every Thursday for about two years-an 10 U was found on him from our firm—he came to the office every Wednesday and pre-paid for a bundle of the "Englishman," and received in return an I 0 U for the following day, that served as a delivery order—he was at the office when the police came in, about 7 o'clock—that is close to the place where he usually sells his papers—I was examined and cross-examined at the police-court and was afterwards recalled; I don't think that was after an application had been made to the Magistrate discharge the prisoner for want of evidence; as far as I remember it was not made till afterwards-Sir Benjamin Phillips was the Magistrate—the case had not been gone into, so I think no such application would have been made—I think Mr. Brooks, Rogers, my brother, and myself, had been examined before I was recalled—I had given no evidence at all against Baker on the first examination, that was why I was recalled—I had stated "I know the prisoner Baker, he sells the 'Evening Standard' and the 'Englishman,' and other publications; he had a stand at the 'Standard' office, and has had it about ten years," but I had not gone into the charge about Baker offering 25l. to settle it; that was what I was referring to—I believe Mr. Lee, the solicitor, asked me the questions you have read; we had no solicitor there—I heard my brother examined—I don't remember that it was immediately on the application that Baker should be discharged for want of evidence that my brother proposed to get into the box and prove the confession; it might have been—I had not said anything about the confession until my brother proved it—25l. is the amount of the missing numbers—no one was present at the private interview but my brother and myself—the prisoner denied having tempted Edmunds to steal—the "Tichborne Trial" is not sold as low as 3s. a bundle to my knowledge—I did not ask Baker to supply a number of boys to sell the "Englishman "in the Guild-hall yard when an inquiry was going on at the police-court there, nor did he refuse to do so—I don't believe that any conversation to that effect passed between us.
Re-examined. It is quite true that the private interview took place, I certainly did not invent the conversation.
JOHN AHMED KENEALEY . I was at the police-station the day on which Baker was arrested—he requested a private interview with me and my brother-police-constable Rogers was present when he made the request, but he was not present at the interview—we were allowed to go into a private room-Baker then said "Mr. Kenealey, I have been led into this by others, if you will promise to let me off I will give you the names of my confederates"—I said I would not let him off—we then went again before the inspector-Baker then said "Let me have another conversation with you, and I think we may arrange it"—we went into the same room again and. He said "I Will give you 25l. to say no more about it"—I said I could not compound a felony—we then went again before the inspector and the charge was made against him.
Cross-examined. He used the term "confederates," not I—my brother said if he gave up the names of his accomplices we might be inclined to get him as light a sentence as possible-Baker offered to give up the names of his confederates first—I was examined at the police-court before the Magistrate was asked to commit Baker for trial—I believe Mr. Lee, the solicitor, did ask the Magistrate to let him go, because there was no evidence against him; that was before I went into the witness box, then Mr. Martin called me, I having said I could prove a confession—the "Tichborne Trial" has never been sold as low as 3s. 8d. a quire, the lowest price is 5s. 4d., we never sold any for less—I never asked Baker to get some lads to be about Guildhall yard to sell the "Englishman "at the time of an inquiry there when Dr. Kenealey was the defendant, there was no such plan to my knowledge.
JAMES ROGERS (City Policeman 434). I took Baker into custody at the office of Messrs. Kenealey—I told him I should take him into custody for having received a large number of the "Tichborne Trials," to the value of 25l. belonging to Messrs. Kenealey—he said he was sorry for it—I took him to the station—he there wished to have a private interview with Messrs. Kenealey, which the inspector allowed, they came out twice—they went back again at Baker's request—he was afterwards brought out and the charge read to him.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
EDMUNDS— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD EDMUNDS (Policeman C 87). About 7.30 on the morning of the 25th January I heard cries of police in Porter Street, St. Ann's—I went to the spot and saw a man lying on the ground—a gentleman named Newberry made a complaint to me and I took the prisoner into custody—on taking hold of him by the left arm he made a kick at me and then he got his head and his arm between my legs, making use of a most foul expression and tearing my trowsers halfway down the centre of the leg—he kicked at me again in the crutch—he said "I will bite the f—nose off your b—face"—I was assisted by four constables in getting him to the station—he was perfectly sober.
WILLIAM STEPHENS (Policeman C 80). On the morning of 25th January I heard cries of police—I went to the spot and saw Mr. Newberry and the prisoner struggling—the prosecutor said the prisoner had taken his watch and had violently kicked him in a dangerous part—I took the watch and chain produced from the prisoner's hand—he kicked me several tunes on the side of my head and on the nose—we fell to the ground-in about a quarter of an hour, with the assistance 87 C and other constables, I took him to the station.
The prisoner put in a written defence that he was drunk at the time and that he was not aware he had committed any violence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PENDLEBURY . I live at West Houghton, near Wigan—about 7.30: on the morning of the 25th January I was with a female in Porter Street—I remember seeing the man at the bar—I was going up Porter Street and the prisoner came running by and slipped down in front of me, and then got up and popped his hand on my shoulder and snatched my watch from my pocket—he put his legs between my knees and began to kick and threw me down and used me very roughly—the female who was with me screamed "Police," and the police came and assisted me—he kicked me several times on the legs and belly—I had to lean against the wall till I got round—someone came to his assistance and he got away—the prisoner was not intoxicated or he could not have used me as he did.
ALBINA CLAYTON . I am the wife of John Clayton and live at New North Street—about 7.30 on the morning of the 25th I was with Mr. Pendlebury—I remember seeing the prisoner as we were passing along come and stumble, he then turned round and caught Mr. Pendlebury by the shoulder and snatched his watch and chain—I cried out for a policeman—they both struggled and fell to the ground—the prisoner kicked Mr. Pendlebury in various places—the prisoner was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you kick the prosecutor several times before the policeman came up.
Prisoner's Defence. I cannot remember anything about it on account of having intoxicated. I am sorry for it. I do not believe I kicked the prosecutor. The constable kicked me several times.
GUILTY **— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. PURCELL conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY JOHN DAVIS . I live at 46, Great Peter Street, "Westminster, and am a painter—on Saturday night, the 6th January, I was at this lodging-house,. just after 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoner brought in by two men—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—he was very drunk—he was taken upstairs by the two men who were lodgers-by the time he reached the top he had a fall—about 12.50 I saw him walking about the room and talking in an incoherent manner—I said "Get to bed there's a good fellow"—he never answered that; I was in bed then—the man sleeping next to me said "We will talk no more, and perhaps he will go to sleep quietly"—I was just dropping off to sleep when I felt some stabs through the bedclothes—I threw my hands up and received several cuts in the wrist—I defended myself with the bed-clothes—I was in the darkness; I got away and rushed up another flight of stairs—I was taken to the hospital; I do not think the prisoner was responsible for his actions—I wished to withdraw the charge before the Magistrate, but he would not allow me to do so.
JOSEPH MORRIS . I live in this lodging-house—on the night of the 6th January, about 12.50, I saw the prisoner brought in—I went up before the prosecutor—the prisoner sat on the bed; he was drunk and talking like a drunken man—I and the prosecutor got into bed—the prisoner was sitting on the bed then—the candle went out—a few minutes after I heard the prosecutor hallooing out "Murder," and all the rest of it—I got out of bed and went out on the stairs and called the landlord up, and said "Do not come without a light," and he brought up a candle—I saw the prisoner standing beside the bed—he had the knife in his hand shut up.
ROBERT HIGGINS (Policeman B 135). I was called by the landlord of this house on the morning of the 7th—the prisoner was charged with stabbing the prosecutor—he made some incoherent remark I could not catch—on the way to the station he said "They had no business to pitch into me"—I said "That does not justify you in using the knife"—he said "Serve them right, they should not pitch into me"—he seemed to be recovering from drink; he had this knife when he was charged—there appears to be some dry blood on the blade.
GEORGE READING . I am the son of the landlord of this house—on the morning of the 7th January, I heard an alarm and ran upstairs with a light, and I took the knife out of the prisoner's right hand—it was shut up; he was delirious, but he gave me the knife when I asked—I brought him downstairs and gave him in charge of the police.
JOHN LEWIS JACQUET . I am house-surgeon at the Westminster Hospital—the prosecutor came on the morning of the 7th—there were two incised wounds on the inner side of the right wrist, about half an inch long—the back one was shorter than the front one—they were very near the artery and bled a good deal, not that day, but afterwards; I saw a small wound on the side of the face, and another small wound on the back of the other wrist.
Prisoner's Defence. When they say I was drunk it is a falsehood. I went to bed by myself. Two men stood on the stairs and said "Come along old chap." I said "I know my road and I know my bed." I had not lain long when I felt my pillow move. One man caught hold of my trowsers, he got hold of my leg, he crouched down. Then he let go into me and another man gave me a kick in the side. I said "Will you leave go?" but he kept pulling my trowsers, and I hit him on the hand or wrist, for it was dark. He then let go, but he never holloaed "Murder! "nor said a whimper. I put my trowsers on and went downstairs, and there was reading and he said "What's up?" I said "enough's up, I've had three of them on to me and one tried to get my trowsers and I gave him a prick in the hand." He says "You'll have to go to the station," and I gave the knife into his hand. Then we met the constable and he told him about it. The constable asked for the man that was cut, and he said "He'll follow, but he is gone to the hospital," and he came. If Reading had taken the knife out of my hand I could not have brought it downstairs and given it to the constable. One constable says I was sober.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 5th, 1877.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA WALLER . I am the wife of William Henry Waller, who keeps a public-house, at 119, Long Acre—on 8th January, about 11 p.m., I served the prisoner with a glass of ale and a pennyworth of tobacco—he gave me a penny and a bad florin—I told him it was bad, he said that he did not know it, and gave me a penny and a halfpenny, saying that that was all he had, and asked me to take the tobacco back—I gave him in charge with the florin.
WILLIAM DUNN (Policeman E 451). I was called, and received this florin, and took the prisoner—he gave his name, George Oliver, 10, New Street, Bermondsey—he was remanded at Bow Street till the 15th, and again till the 22nd, and then discharged.
SARAH GRIMWOOD . I am barmaid, at the Hercules Tavern, Leadenhall Street—on 26th January, about 8 a.m., I served the prisoner with a glass of ale, he put down a florin—I broke it, and told him it was bad—he said that he was not aware of it, he got it at a house in Sloane Street, Chelsea—he asked for it back—I gave him one piece, and kept the other—he paid me for the ale in coppers and left—he came again that night at 10.20; I served him with a glass of ale—he put down a florin—I examined it, and said "This is another bad one, this is the second time you have been in the house to-day"—he said "No, I have not been in the house before"—I gave him in charge with the florin.
FREDERICK WHITCHURCH (Police Sergeant 718). I was called and took the prisoner—he said that he was innocent, and didn't know that the florin was bad—I said that he was there in the morning, and uttered one also—he said that he had never been in the house before—he gave his address, 22, Sloane Street, Chelsea—I found nothing on him—I received this florin and this piece of a florin from the last witness.
Prisoner's Defence. I was never in the house till that night, had I been there in the morning and passed a florin, I should not have been so foolish as to go in again that night.
GUILTY —He was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence in February, 1874, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH THOMPSON . I keep the Old Bell Tavern, Fleet Street—on 29th January, about 11.10 p.m., I served the prisoner with 2d. worth of whiskey, he put down two penny pieces—he then called for another 2d. worth of whiskey and tendered a bad shilling—I asked him if he knew it was bad, he said "No," but he knew where he got it, he got it next door on Saturday night in change for half a sovereign, and that he had no more money, but he would go and fetch it; he left and Mr. Martin, who is not here, followed him—a policeman fetched me to the station half an hour afterwards, and I found the same person there—I have not the slightest doubt of him.
ALICE MARY SKINNER . I am barmaid at the Albion Hotel, Bridge Street, Ludgate Circus, about two minutes' walk from the Old Bell—on 29th January, about 11.20 p.m., I served the prisoner with half a pint of ale, he put down 1s., and I gave him 10 1/2 d. change, and put the 1s. in the till; there were only five sixpences there-Mr. Parker came in and asked me what I had taken; I said "A shilling," and he accused the prisoner of giving me a bad ls., and took it out of the till, and I gave him into custody.
THOMAS PARKER . I was standing at my door—I received information, and told the prisoner that he had passed bad money, he said that he got it in change for a florin and did not know it was bad—I gave him charge, with the 1s.
JOHN VALE (City Policeman 44). I took the prisoner—at the Albion Hotel—he said that he took the shilling of a gentleman, but at the station he said that a gentleman gave him a florin at Charing Cross Railway Station, and he changed it for some bread and cheese—I found on him a
bad shilling, a good 6d. and 9 1/2 d.—I received this shilling (produced) from Mr. Parker.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know the shillings were bad.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence in April, 1876, to which he PLEADED GUILTY— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
EMILY CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH OGLE . I am a postal telegraph clerk at the post-office Chancery Lane—on 23rd January, between 3 and 4 o'clock the prisoner came in for 22s. 6d. of postage stamps—he put down a counterfeit sovereign and 2s. 6d.; I rang the sovereign on the counter, but he had got out at the door then—I ran after him and caught him, and told him he had given me a bad sovereign—he refused to come back, and I followed him—he was caught by a constable at last and brought back to the office, and I went to the station with him—he said that a man gave him 6d. to come into the office and buy the stamps—he proposed in Chancery Lane, to give me back the stamps, but I refused to" take them and said that he must come back—I gave the sovereign to the policeman.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I don't remember you asking me to take the stamps while you ran after the man, or saying anything about a man, but two persons tried to stop me as I was running after you.
JOSEPH HORTON (City Policeman 297). I was on duty and saw the prisoner running, followed by the last witness; I stopped him and she showed me this bad sovereign (produced)—he had some stamps in his hand and went back with me to the post-office—I asked him where he got the sovereign; he said that a gentleman promised him 6d. to get the stamps, and gave him a sovereign and 2s. 6d., and that he was running after the gentleman; I took him to the station—I found nothing on him—he gave his name Charles Herbert, but next day at Bow Street, he said it was Charles Irving.
Prisoner's Defence. A man asked me to get him the stamps and gave me 1l. 2s. 6d., and promised me 6d. for myself. I got them and walked out, and saw the man crossing the corner of a turning where he ran down—I went about 12 yards further, when the prosecutrix stopped me, and said "You gave me a bad sovereign"—I said "You don't mean to say so"—she said "Yes, you did"—I said "Take the sovereign's worth of stamps back"—she said "No, you must come back with me to the shop"—I said "I cannot, or else I shall lose him, and with that I went after the man who gave me the money, but he was too far off for me to catch him, and the prosecutrix gave me in custody."
GUILTY . He was further charged with a previous conviction of a like offence in April, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
223. HENRY PEARCE (17), ARTHUR LOCK (17), and JOSEPH SCOTT (21), Unlawfully attempting to break into the dwelling-house of John Eyre, with intent to steal; to which PEARCE PLEADED GUILTY — six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DIXON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILD the Defence.
patrolling a road at Kingsland shortly before 1 a.m., and saw the three prisoners near the corner of Huntingdon Street loitering in a suspicious manner-two others were with them—I informed constables Revell and sainty—the prisoners went to the door of 101, Kingsland Road, but the constable on the beat came by and they separated, but came back in a few minutes, and were engaged at the door, when the constables came back, and they again separated—they came back again, and the two not in custody went down Huntingdon Street—the prisoners remained at the door of No. 101, and I heard a crash at the door and saw a light at the first floor window—they separated, but came back about 2.10, when I took Lock, Sainty took Scott; Pearce ran across the road, and Revell took him—I found three indentations on the lock of the door and the door-post was moved—I saw Revell pull a jemmy from Pearce's coat-sleeve and compare it with the marks—I saw Revell find a chisel on Pearce at the station—I saw some matches and a wax taper found on Lock at the station and the same on Pearce, who also had a bottle of aquafortis.
Cross-examined. The other two escaped—Lock wore dark clothes; I passed close by him and looked at him; he was there eight or nine minutes on the second occasion; he was close to the door when it cracked, and I was 25 yards off—there was a lamp close by—I took Lock close to the door.
Cross-examined by Scott. I saw you go up to the door three times; I observed you for an hour and three minutes.
CHARLES SAINT (Detective Officer N). I saw the prisoners and two others, not in custody, near Lancaster Road about 1 o'clock, and watched them till about 1.50—I saw the three prisoners go to the door of 101, Kingsland Road—the constable on the beat passed and they separated-at about 1.30 they went to the door again—I heard a loud crash and saw a light appear at the first-floor window—they went away and afterwards returned to the door—I eventually took Smith, and saw Revell take Pearce, and take a jemmy from his coat-sleeve, which I saw compared with the marks on the door—I found on Lock six keys, a wax taper, some matches, a duplicate, and this penknife; they are not skeleton keys but box keys.
Cross-examined. Scott and Lock were both taken at the door.
RICHARD REVELL (Policeman N). I took Pearce, and took this jemmy out of his coat-sleeve—I searched him at the station, and found this knife, chisel, bottle of aquafortis, a wax taper, and some matches.
JOHN EYRE . I am foreman to Mr. Maggs, a shoemaker, of 101, Kingsland Road—I went to bed on this night leaving the house locked up—my wife awoke me between 1 and 2 o'clock, and I went down and found' that the outer part of the door had been strained and tried—I made the door, secure and went to bed—I live on the upper part of the premises.
Scott's Defence. I am innocent.
LOCK received a good character— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character, and believing him to have been drawn into it — Three Months' Imprisonment.
SCOTT— GUILTY **— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. A. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FULTON the Defence.
EZEKIEL FERNLEY . I am surveyor of Inland Revenue—on the night of 11th January or the morning of the 12th, about 12.30, I was at the bottom of Great Windmill Street; the prisoner passed me and made a remark about the time—I pulled out my watch, and told him the time, and as I was putting it back he kicked me just above the left ancle, snatched my watch, and ran away—the kick knocked me down, and I fell and injured my head and my elbow-as soon as I could get up, I ran, and some other people were running after him—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man—I was lame for three or four days-this is my watch (produced.)
Cross-examined. I was standing at the bottom of the street two or three minutes, hesitating which way I should go home—I had been with a friend who I had not seen for ten years—I was not particularly the worse for liquor, it is a difficult thing to say when a man is in liquor—I believe I went into a cigar shop; I don't remember that I spoke to the prisoner in that shop—I don't think I asked him if he knew a man named Robinson, a betting man, nor do I know Robinson-my home is in Yorkshire—I don't remember telling the prisoner that I lived in Yorkshire—I made one or two casual remarks to one or two people there—I did not take my watch out and swing it about by the chain and say "You cockneys don't have such presents as this, this is what we get from our Yorkshire friends"—I ran after him, but was too lame to get up to him—the injury was not a sprain, I had the mark of a kick for a week after; I did not sprain my ancle, it was a bruise—I mentioned being lame when I charged him.
Re-examined. I do not remember ever having seen the prisoner, before he came up to me in the street—I did not twist my watch round and I did not throw it down an area in Rupert Street.
MAURICE DEARDON . I live in High Street, Canterbury—on the morning of 22nd January I was in Windmill Street, and saw the prosecutor talking to a friend—I saw him again an hour afterwards, at 12.30, getting up from the ground—he called "Stop thief!" and I saw the prisoner running away about 20 yards from me—I ran after him—he ran up Windmill Street and took a turning on the right—I. followed him, and saw him throw something into an area, apparently, he then turned another corner to the left, I still following—he then turned back and appeared to be walking calmly towards me—a constable came up and I gave him custody.
Cross-examined. I went to the station—the prosecutor charged the prisoner with stealing his watch, and I believe he added "Robbery "with violence," but I won't be certain—I walked with the prosecutor to the station; I should say that he was sober, but he was very excited and very lame.
JOHN DIMOCK (Policeman C 34). I was on duty in Great Windmill Street, heard cries of "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner running—I followed him and caught him in Rupert Street, and Deering gave him in custody-while he was running I heard something go against an area window—I afterwards went to the area, turned my light on, and saw this watch there.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor was very lame—he charged the prisoner at the station with stealing his watch and kicking him—I did not examine his leg, but there was a mark on his wrist-lam sure he mentioned the kick at the station and said that he thought his ancle was sprained by the kick he had had.
the leg and make a snatch at his watch—the prosecutor fell immediately—it was rather a violent kick—I was 2 or 3 yards off—I followed, saw the prisoner given in custody, and held him while another constable went down into the area and got up this watch—on the way to the station the prisoner said "It is done and I must make the best of it"—he also said "I suppose you will get a reward of 4 1/2 d. for what you have done to-night."
Cross-examined. I believe the prosecutor had been drinking a little he was very much excited—I did not see him twirling his watch round—there were only three or four people standing close by—I only saw the prosecutor and prisoner standing together for about half a minute—I did not hear them talking—I saw the prisoner walk up to him—I am sure I saw the kick—the prosecutor charged the prisoner at the station with robbery and assault, he said that he thought his leg was sprained, and asked the inspector to be quick as he wanted to get home.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "Neither the inspector nor the witness saw the affair, and as for kicking him, I was speaking to the three other gentlemen when I snatched it and ran away."
GUILTY of robbery without violence — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. REED conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS BARNES . I live in Goswell Road—on 17th January, about 10.30, I was in Little Turner Street, a man asked me if I would treat him, I said no; he asked me a second time, I tried to get away, and he held my arm, and the prisoner came up and took my watch from my waistcoat pocket and broke my chain in two places—he went about 10 yards, I followed him, he caught hold of me round the neck and held me very tight for about a minute and a half, so that I could scarcely make a noise—the other man put his hand against my trowsers pocket outside—they both ran up the Commercial Road—I pursued them, lost sight of them, and gave information to the police—I saw the prisoner at the station about 11.15 the same night, and am certain he is the man-this is my watch and chain (produced).
Prisoner. I was very drunk and do not know anything about it. Witness. You were not drunk because you could run fast.
JAMES HARRIS (Policeman H 193). Barnes spoke to me and I saw the prisoner running—I pursued him-Catchpole stopped him and he threw this watch on the pavement—I picked it up—I did not see him drop it—I told him the charge, he said that he did not know what he was doing, he had had a drink—he had had a little beer, but he was not drunk.
Prisoner. I did not have the watch and did not drop it, he picked it up in the crowd. Witness. There was no crowd round the watch.
GEORGE CATCHPOLE (Policeman H 182). I saw the prisoner running away—I stopped him near Essex Street and saw him drop this watch behind him—he said "What is the matter?"—another constable picked the watch up.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was very drunk and did not know what I was doing."
Prisoners Defence. I did not take the watch and did not drop it, I work hard at the water side, and was going home drunk.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
The Prisoner stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was " GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, upon which they found that verdict " — To enter into recognizances to appear and receive Judgment if called upon.
MR. MILWARD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. A. METCALFE the Defence.
HENRY BORN . I am a news agent of 115, London Wall—on 1st January, about 11.20 p.m., I was in Old Street, and the prisoner gave me a blow under my chin, my eyes became dazzled and I caught hold of somebody—I called out "Thieves, police, murder"—my pockets were turned inside out by somebody else; there were three men—they took away 5s.—I jumped up and ran after the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I was not drunk—I had certainly been enjoying myself a little—it was New Year's night—I had had a glass or two with a friend, but it was the blow which made me dazed—I had been into two public-houses—I had nearly 10s. at 8 o'clock—I counted 10s. when I came out—I had been drinking all the time from 8 o'clock—I felt a thrust in my pocket and I was pinned on my back and my trowsers were torn from the lining right round-other people were about—I did not see Claridge there—I do not know him.
Re-examined. I am quite sure the prisoner is the man who struck me. John Dean Claridge. I am a dealer in unredeemed pledges, of 132, Bidders Street—I was in the City Road at 11.20 on this night, and saw two men knock the prosecutor down, who called out "Murder"—the prisoner is one of them—they ran, and I followed the prisoner and never lost sight of him—I kept in the middle of the road, and when I came up to him he was skrinking down by the side of a wall, behind another man—I gave him in custody.
Cross-examined. I had been drinking, but I have taken no intoxicating drink for twenty years—I did not at the police-court acknowledge to being drunk—I was about 10 yards from the prisoner and prosecutor, and no one else was within 10 yards of them—there were only two men with the prosecutor, but a third man was on the other side of the road—I do not know which of the men struck the prosecutor—I think the prisoner was sober when he was given in custody.
Cross-examined. Born had been drinking, but was not drunk.
GUILTY of assault with intent to rob **†— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT—Tuesday, February 6th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
1875, I became acquainted with the prisoner, and in that month I took her into my employ—I entered into an arrangement with her; it was a free house, gas and all rates and taxes, and 7 1/2 per cent, on the returns—she told me she was married, but I never saw her husband, she said he was a painter, at a guinea a week—her duty was to receive goods brought to the shop, enter them in a book and send them on to Manchester, they were then returned, each with a bill pasted on, with the name of the customer and the amount due, and as the goods were applied for she had to give them out, receive the money and enter it in the cash-book; there were two cash books—we have a stock-book at Manchester as against Ux-bridge, containing all particulars, every item separately—we have to post to the credit of Uxbridge in the stock-book from the cash-book—she kept one cash-book at a time and sent the other to us—from the time she entered my—service to September, 1876, she professed to act according to that rule—I have the books here—between Lady Day, 1875, and September, she paid me 95l. 16s. at different times—I saw her at Uxbridge several times, and spoke to her about the outstanding accounts every time; I urged her to get in the money as I did not profess to give credit; all 1 said about the credit was at the beginning "If you know any persons in Uxbridge whom you know to be reliable and trustworthy I would not object, but my system is not credit"—when I called her attention to the outstanding accounts, she said "It is no use, we can't do business in Uxbridge without long credit, everybody in Uxbridge gives credit"—she has never accounted to me for 4s. 6d. received from Mrs. Hardy on 25th July, or 16s. 8d. on 17th August from Mr. Packer, or—16s. 10d. on 15th September from Mr. Birch-towards the end of September, 1876, I went to Uxbridge and saw her—I told her that I could not go on any longer in the way we had been going, because I could not get the money, if she saw her way to take the thing on her own account I would do the work on terms to be arranged—she said she should be very glad, and thought she could do very well, and she could make arrangements whereby she would be able to pay every week as the goods were received; so the matter was arranged, and afterwards invoices of a different class to our own were supplied-from that time she commenced to trade on her own accounts nothing was determined between us at that time as to the amount due from • Uxbridge to Manchester, I simply urged her to get in the monies that were outstanding—on 12th December, in consequence of a telegram from a friend, I went to Uxbridge and found the place shut up; I found the prisoner in the house, next door—she appeared to be in dreadful distress, she said that her husband had run away, had sold up everything and taken the children—I asked her if she could see her way to go on now her husband had gone away;. she said she could, and if I would send on my account and her account under the new arrangement, a Mr. James would pay—I saw Mr. James then and there for the first time; he had lodged with them according to her statement—it" was then agreed that she was to go on with the business, and accounts were to be supplied—I told her that a hamper of goods was coming off that night to my own order to Uxbridge—I took her to the station, and said "I will give an order at the station for the goods to come to you on their arrival," in the meantime I sent up Mr. Passmore, my clerk, next day before the goods could arrive—I went back to Manchester, Mr. Passmore communicated with me, and in consequence of that I applied for a warrant—I afterwards received this letter from the prisoner; it is her
handwriting. (This was an appeal to the witness to withdraw the charge and entreating his forgiveness.) On none of the occasions when I came up during 1875-6, did the prisoner make any application to me to allow her money for expenses that she had incurred—she had no expenses.
Cross-examined. She applied for her 7 1/2 commission—I had an agent at Uxbridge before I knew the defendant, not a branch—I distinguish agencies from branches—I have over 600 agencies—I have a printed form for them; a Mr. Turner was my agent at Uxbridge before the prisoner—I know that Turner received 25l. of his debts which the prisoner collected, I don't know that 25l. was paid by the prisoner's husband, and I don't believe it—I knew that she was a married woman by her own representation—I never saw her husband—I saw three or four children—the majority of my 600 agencies are superintended by women—I did not think it necessary to have the husband's sanction to the arrangement that I made with the prisoner—I used to go there about every three months—I have the two cash books here—I took the house in my own name as tenant-after the prisoner was there I came to a settlement with the previous person, Mr. Turner; I went into the accounts with him—I settled with him at the same house—I was not the tenant of it in Turner's time, Turner was the tenant—I became tenant about Lady Day, 1875-when I came up again at the end of the first three months I was in the house two or three hours—I don't remember taking away the two cash-boots, and asking the prisoner to buy a temporary one—I was not told that her husband had bought one for ls.; I never saw a third book—I have a number of clerks at Manchester who attend to the agencies—the prisoner told me that her husband was going to do some painting and papering—I had nothing to do with that—I saw that some papering had been done in the kitchen—she said she had once or twice had occasion to buy wrappers for the goods; I told her to charge that to expenses or we should send them back—she was supplied with stamps and paper envelopes, labels, string and everything from Manchester—she said her husband had taken out and delivered parcels at Uxbridge—I never promised that the repairs done should be allowed for—there was no expense book kept—if she spent money for postage stamps, or any thing, she would be entitled to charge for it-no expenses are charged in these cash-books, they are balanced up every time she remitted—the first balancing after 25th July was on the 29th, when she remits 2l. 0s. 8 1/2 d., she has had credit for that—on 19th August she sends 19s. 10 1/2 d., and on 16th September she Bends 19s. 11d., that was the last remittance before the new arrangement—there is no deduction at all for expenses or commission-in one instance she makes an error against herself of 18s. 2 1/2 d., and in another 3d. in her favour—there are no dates, I could not get her to put dates, that was her fault, not mine—I told her I would get the landlord to accept her husband as the new tenant, and ask him to bring the agreement for him to sign—she did not say she would like to send for her husband that he might have a reckoning with me—I proposed the new arrangement because I could not get my own funds-when I went and found the place closed she appeared in great distress; she said her husband had sold everything—I think I asked her whether she would like to stay or whether she would take a situation at Manchester—I did not shake hands with her at the station, she tried to get hold of my hand, but I avoided her—I did not ask her to plead guilty, I only said "You must do what you think right"—I have not made any effort to find her husband, I have not had the chance, I have not been home more than two days.
Re-examined. At the time of making the arrangement for her to carry on the business herself I was not aware that monies had been paid that she had not accounted for—I had no suspicion—she has not been paid any commission yet—she never told me that she had retained so much for commission.
JOSEPH GEORGE PASSMORE . I am clerk to the prosecutor at Manchester—in consequence of instructions on the 14th December I went to Uxbridge—I did not go through the cash-books with the prisoner, I made out some bills from the ledger which I brought with me from Manchester, and on the 15th I called her attention to about half a dozen sums, but not to those mentioned in the indictment—I drew up a list of the half dozen accounts on a slip of paper, and made a total of them, and told her that those accounts had obviously been paid and not accounted for—I had called on the customers and looked into the cash-books to see whether they were accounted for—she could give no satisfactory account—she did not deny having had them—she said she believed that most of the accounts I shewed her to be open in our ledger must have been paid—I believe the amount was 3l. 8s. 3d.—this was on the 16th—she left the premises on the 16th after my interview—the premises were not shut at this time—the three amounts in question-were not found out till afterwards.
Cross-examined. I arrived there on the morning of the 14th—all the furniture had been taken away except one bed and one chair—her children and her husband had gone—I did not tell her on the 16th that I should lock her out—I was not aware that the premises were rented by her husband—I thought they were Mr. Berry's, and I acted on that belief—I did Dot go there with any intention of taking possession; I brought a letter of introduction from Mr. Berry, asking her to accommodate me, and she appeared willing to do so—she did not appear in great distress—I believe she said that her husband had received monies—she said she had forwarded all the money she had received—I believe the agent's accounts are settled quarterly—I have nothing to do with the branches—I have never seen any third cash-book, only these two, the clerks at Manchester attend to them—I am not aware that the prisoner's husband had authority to receive money—I never saw him.
ELIZABETH HARDY . I am the wife of Andrew Hardy, of Uxbridge—I had some work done by the prisoner—I fetched it on 25th July, and paid her 1s. 6d.—I got no receipt, only what was on the parcel—I have destroyed that—prisoner did not write anything; the amount to be paid was on the parcel. William Henry Packer. I live at Uxbridge—on 17th August, I paid the prisoner's son 16s. 8d. at my house; he is a boy of about ten—he, brought me this letter, and gave me a receipt for the money. (This letter was a request to send the money by the bearer.)
EDMUND VINCENT (Policeman). On 6th January, I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant, at Hammersmith—I told her she was charged with embezzling several sums of money whilst employed by Mr. Berry, at. Uxbridge—she replied "It is a bad job"—on the way to the station, she said "I have laid the money out on the business; can't you take a guarantee for 20l. not to see me again, James will pay the money"—I am stationed at Uxbridge; I know the prisoner's husband—I believe he is a painter.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. HARRIS and FULTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRINDLEY the Defence.
DAVID JOHNSON . I live at East End, Finchley, and am a carman, in the employ of Messrs. Lea & Co., coal merchants—they have several depots about town, and one at the back of the Wellington Tavern, Highgate Archway, where we stabled four horses—on the night of 12th December, I saw the four horses in the stable there, and attended to them at 8 o'clock—one of them was a black horse—I fastened the stable door and put the key in my pocket—I went there next morning at 5.30, and found the stable broken open and the black horse gone—it was a valuable horse—I gave information, and bills were circulated in the neighbourhood; lots of them were posted about—on 22nd, I went with detective Clark to a stable at the back of the Queen's Head public-house, at Brook Green, Hammersmith, and there saw the black horse that had been taken away—I saw the prisoner—the detective brought him out of the yard, and I" followed him to the stable, I did not hear what was said to him—I took the horse to Hammersmith police-station.
Cross-examined. There was an injury to the horse's leg, it had been scratched with a shoe about a week before; it was not a bad place, it did not require a bandage—I should have put one on, if it had remained, to keep the dirt out of the wound—the horse was found in a stable or open shed behind the public house—it was not much of a stable—it was a stand for horses; the door was open, there was no lock on it—it is a public-house yard; common to people going there.
GEORGE LEA . I am a member of the firm of Thomas Lea & Co., coal merchants—the horse that was lost is ours and is worth 100 guineas—I caused these bills to be printed, they were circulated all over London, Hammersmith amongst other places; the description in the bills accurately represents the horse—I afterwards saw it at the Hammersmith police-station.
Cross-examined. I had had it about four or five months, I bought it myself with another and gave 172l. for the two, this was the more valuable one of the two.
JOHN SMITH . I am a labourer in Messrs. Lea's employment—I distributed bills like this—I took them round Hammersmith; I distributed them in the public streets there, and saw them in the shop windows there.
Cross-examined. I did not take them to Brook Green, nor to the public-house where the prisoner was—I don't know Brook Green—I know the Broadway—I distributed some there—I think it is about a mile from Brook Green.
JOSEPH CLARK (Detective Officer Y). From information I received at the Highgate police-station, on 22nd December, I went to the Queen's Head, Brook Green, Hammersmith, with the witness Johnson; it was about half a mile from the Broadway—I saw the prisoner in the yard—the stable is at the rear of the public house—I asked him if he rented the stables—he said "Yes"—previous to that Johnson had identified the horse—I said "That black horse has been stolen, how came it here"—he said "It was brought here by two men last Wednesday week about 8 o'clock in the morning; (that would be the 15th;) they asked me if they could leave it here for a few hours, I have seen them twice since, but I don't know them, I don't know where they live."
Cross-examined. The horse was in the stable, not an open shed, it was in hi a stall, Johnson examined it there—I believe the prisoner has routed those stables for about fifteen months;—he has been in the neighbourhood about five or six years, I believe—he answered my questions straightforwardly—I am certain he said that the men asked to leave the horse for a few hours, not a few days—he said they were two tall men.
WILLIAM BROOKER (Police Sergeant). I accompanied Clark to the prisoner's place—I asked him where—he got the horse from—he said "It was brought here on a foggy morning by two men and asked to be left for a few hours"—I asked him if he knew the men—he said he did not.
Cross-examined. There are open gates to the yard, where carts go in and out—I had no trouble in finding the horse there, it was in a stall in the stable—the Broadway is about a quarter of a mile from Brook Green—I have been looking for the two men.
CHARLES GRIFFIN . I am a greengrocer in Bridge Road, Hammersmith—I know the prisoner—I have been to the stable behind the Queen's Head and saw him there—I have seen him several times when other men were there—I was there on 22nd December, he was there then; there were two or three in the bar—I heard say that the black horse must go away to-morrow; I don't know who said that, or to whom it was said—it was said in the bar while he was present.
Cross-examined. I can't say that it was said to the prisoner, he was there—I did not see him speak to the men—I don't know whether he was drinking; with them or not; they were there together in the bar, £ was not in the bar, I was in the room adjoining—I had never seen the men before—I had seen the horse before that in the open shed in the yard—I know that the prisoner had horses of his own there; I saw another horse there, I don't know that it belonged to a Mr. Willinger.
Re-examined. I saw a bay mare there about 15 hands high, it had a small spot of white on the hoof—I did not notice that the near fore foot was white, or that a portion of the mane was turning grey, or that it had been fired; I had seen that bay mare there five or six times—the two men I saw were tall men.
JOHN LONG . I am an artificial flower manufacturer, of 14, Northampton Square, Clerkenwell—on 22nd August last I had two bay mares; I had been out for a drive with them that day, and about 6 o'clock in the evening I gave them up to my man-between 12 and 1 o'clock in the morning I went to my stable and found it forced open and the two bay mares gone—I caused bills to be circulated in the neighbourhood describing them, and on 11th January I saw one of them at the Highgate police-station, it was worth 55l.
Cross-examined. I gave 40l. for it, I worked it about eight or nine months.
WILLIAM WELLS . I was coachman to Mr. Long—on 22nd August when he came home with the horses L took charge of them; I saw them safe at 9 o'clock-at 12 o'clock at night my attention was drawn to the stable; I went and found it broken open and the two bay mares gone—I afterwards circulated these bills in the neighbourhood—on a Thursday in last month I saw one of the mares at the Highgate police station and identified it.
JOSEPH CLARK (re-examined). On 22nd December, when I was at the prisoner's premises I saw a bay horse there, which was afterwards identified by Mr. Long, at the Highgate Station—on 11th January, I told the prisoner he would be charged with stealing that horse—he made no answer—on 10th January, I took one of Mr. Brooker's men down to Hounslow; the horse was
in possession of a man named Clements, it was identified by Brooker as the one stolen from Mr. Long.
Cross-examined. I believe Clements is a brother-in-law of the prisoner, this bay mare was sent to Hounslow, after the prisoner was taken into custody—I also saw a cart-horse there, I don't know who it belonged to, "believe Willinger's horses stood there—the prisoner's stable at the Queen's Head had two stalls, and there were three or four in the shed-Clements did not make any statement to me about it—I know the Red Cow public-house at Hammersmith, I called at the yard there, I did not speak to the landlady, or make any inquiries there—I did not find that the horse in question had been sold there to the prisoner; I heard that it had been sold at the George and Dragon, at Hounslow; I went there to make inquiry and saw the landlady there—I did not see a receipt for the horse there—I did not see one produced at the police-court—the bay mare was in the stable on 22rd December, the prisoner was bringing it from the open shed to put it in a cart—he is a carman in daily use of horses.
Re-examined. I have heard that he is a carman, that is all; I saw no signs at the back of the public-house of his being a carman—there was on appearance outside of there being stables at the back.
WILLIAM CLEMENTS . I live at Hounslow, and am a potato salesman—I know the prisoner; at his request I took charge of the bay mare that was afterwards found on my premises by Clark-when I heard that he was in trouble at Highgate, I went and saw him and asked him what we were to do with the horses, and he told me and my brother to take to them and to give up the stables, and we did so—there were four horses altogether, the bay mare and three others, one was the black one.
ELI GRIFFIN . I live at Edward Square Cottage, Kensington, I know the prisoner—I saw a bay mare on Brook Green, going out of a yard in charge of the prisoner; it was about 15 hands high, I afterwards saw that same mare at Highgate—it was about the latter part of August, that I saw it with the prisoner-as he was coming out of the yard he said if I knew of a customer he would sell it—he said he would take 13l. for it, as I thought, but when I came back he said I had made a mistake, it was 30l.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me where he bought it—I did not see a receipt for it—I know about the black horse, I was there the morning it was brought, at the Queen's Head, Brook Green, where the prisoner has stables—I went there that morning to meet a Mr. Ward, to try to sell him two horses, and during the time I was there someone came to the gates with the black horse; there was a short man and a tall man, one was I—should think 5 feet 10 inches, and the other about 5 feet 6 inches, they asked him if he could take the horse in for a few days, and the horse was taken into the shed—I saw one of the men there again three or four days afterwards, the short one, he drove up in a horse and cart in company with another man, not the tall one, they went to the shed and asked how the horse was getting on, and they went and looked at it.
He-examined. I had not heard about these bills being out at that time—when the men came with the horse on the 12th, they did not appear to know the prisoner; as far as I could judge I should think they were perfect strangers-when they asked if they could leave the horse for a few days, he said "Yes"—he did not ask them who they were in my presence or where they came from, or whose the horse was—one of the men had light ginger hair and whiskers; they were dressed very well, one had red and
yellow and black striped trousers, and an overcoat, and one had a gold Albert chain—I did not go into the shed; I stayed in the yard till they came out—it was a fine black horse they went into the bar, they told the prisoner they would take 30l. for the horse, he did not make any answer—I asked them if they could warrant it quiet in single harness, they said no they could not; but they could in double harness—I told them I knew where they could sell it at two places if it was a worker—I did not ask where they had it from, or who they were—they might be there about a quarter of an hour—the prisoner was present when the men came in the cart three or four days afterwards; they did not stop very long—they were in the bar and had something to drink with the prisoner, and so they did on the first occasion; I don't think I ever saw either of the men before, but I should know them again if I was to see them.
HARRIET JEFFREYS (by MR. BRINDLEY). I reside at the Queen's Head, brook Green, with my husband, who is a licensed victualler, we went into the house last October—the prisoner rented the stables from our predecessor and was there when we took the house—he was carrying on the business of a carman, with horses and carts—we had nothing to do with the yard or the stables; you can pass through the bar into the stable yard—there are double gates to the yard where the horses and carts go in, they are fastened at night, but left open through the day—the prisoner is a thoroughly honest and respectable man as far as I know—we have a-skittle ground at the back, that leads into the yard where the stables are—I know nothing about the horses.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANN BATCHELOR . I am the widow of Henry Batchelor, and keep the George and Dragon, High Street, Acton—I remember a man named Gordon frequenting my house—he came to my house in August last, with another man and two horses—I did not see the prisoner there on that occasion; I don't remember him.
HENRY WALTERS . I am pot boy at the George and Dragon—I know a man named Gordon—I remember last August his coming to our house with another man and two horses, one of them was a bay mare, I only saw two men—I don't remember a third—I did not see them bargaining about selling the horse.
TIMOTHY BUTLER . I am a shoemaker, and live opposite the George and Dragon, High Street, Acton-in August last I remember two men come in there with horses, one of the men was Gordon-those horses were shown up and down next morning for sale, one was a bay mare—I, saw the prisoner there, he appeared to be dealing with the other two men, they showed the horses to him, both in harness and out—the prisoner took away the mare-Gordon wanted a stamp, and I saw a piece of paper handed from one to the other, the money was handed one way and the paper the other—it was about the size of that piece of paper (produced), that was handed by Gordon to the prisoner, and then the horse was mounted and rode away—horses are often brought in there; the gates being continually open, any one can go in, there is stabling for twenty or thirty horses—it is written up outside "Livery and bait stables"—I have known the prisoner for many years in the same place; I have been there many years.
Cross-examined. I have not known Gordon very well, I should know him directly if I saw him—my stall is opposite the place where they were—I had never seen the prisoner with Gordon before—I had seen Gordon once
before, and once since, at the same place, a week or so after the occurrence—I might have seen him lots of times before, but I never observed him—I never spoke to him before that I know of; I had heard him called Gordon often—I did not hear the prisoner call him Gordon; the boy (Walters) called him Gordon, he was there at the time—I don't recollect seeing the prisoner before; I don't know a David Jones—I have heard say that the other one that was with him was named Jones—I did not see anybody sign that paper, it was Gordon that handed the paper; an old gentleman was there at the time; Jones was about as old as Gordon—I was not at the police-court; some one called to ask me to come here, a fortnight or three weeks ago; I don't know his name—he did not tell me what he wanted me to say, he asked what I knew about it, about a deal with a horse or horses in the summer time—he did not say it was in the middle of August, he asked me what time it was; I said I recollected that it was warm weather, and I ascertained it within a week or so, because I put down all my work that is done for me, and I received a letter about that time, dated the 24th, and this occurred, it might be three or four days before or after—they did not call my attention to the colour of the horse—I did not see any of these bills, I heard there had been some—I know the height of the horse, about 16 hands, I was a good many years in a veterinary forge and know about horses; she was a bay mare, with dark legs, and it had saddle marks, and carried its head very high-this bill generally describes it.
ANN BATCHELOR (re-examined). Gordon asked me for a piece of paper and I gave it to him, and pen and ink; it was half a sheet of note paper, something the size of that (produced)—I did not see a receipt stamp affixed to it; I did not see it written, he might have written it, I did not take any notice of it—I was not examined before the Magistrate—I knew Gordon as a customer, he used to come to see a young woman that lived servant in the neighbourhood, and he would call at our place and have a glass of ale—I have seen him twice since—I think the last time was about September, I have not seen him since this charge.
HENRY WALTERS (re-examined). I remember Gordon being there with the other, and a horse and a mare—I was to be paid for the cleaning of them—I saw them both trotted out for the inspection of someone—I did not see a piece of paper like this; the men were talking together—I know Butler, he lives near—a good many horses come there to bait—I have seen Gordon two or three times—I don't know whether he is respectable or not—I don't know David Jones, I never saw him—I did not hear anybody spoken to as Jones that morning—I never saw the prisoner there—there was a short man along with Gordon—there were only two men-Gordon is a tall man.
JAMES COOK . I am assistant to Mr. Wren, a butcher in High Street, Acton—about August last I remember a tall man, named Gordon, coming to the George and Dragon with another man—they brought two horses with them, one was a dark bay and the other a black horse; they took my straw from under my horse, they paid me for it when I told him of it—I saw the horses shown up and down the yard next morning—I fancy I saw the prisoner there that morning, but I never saw him before or since—I did not see any deal about the mare, I only saw the man riding her up and down.
Cross-examined. I could not say the day of the mouth, it was about the middle of August—I would not swear that I saw the prisoner there, but I fancy I recognise him now I come to look at him; I have fancied so since I
have seen him standing there—I was not before the Magistrate—I was asked to come here last Friday by the gentleman sitting there; he asked me what I knew about it, and I told him-be asked me what colour the horse was, and I told him—I don't know that I had ever seen Gordon before—I heard his name-when he brought the horses a little dark man who came with him called him Gordon; I did not hear the name of the little one-Gordon seemed to be the master of the horses, he had a whip in his hand, and seemed to manage them—he paid me for my straw—I did not hear the name of Jones-when the-gentleman came to ask me about this I remembered it all directly, on account of their having stolen my straw—I don't think he asked me if I recollected seeing Carter there—he said there was a man up here on a charge of buying a stolen horse, he did not tell me his name—the name of Carter was on the paper that he gave me; I had never heard the name before—he did not ask if I should know him again—I was to come up and swear that I saw the two horses come down the yard, and that Gordon and another man came down with them—I saw another man with the horses besides those two, and as near as I can recollect the prisoner is the man, but I could not swear to him.
By THE COURT. Our shop is adjoining the Horse and Dragon—we had a bill in our shop in December, offering 50l. reward for a black horse stolen from Highgate—we had no bill about the bay mare in August.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on Second Count—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT—Tuesday, February 6th, 1877. For the case of Clement and Palmer tried this day, see Surrey Cases.
FOURTH COURT—Tuesday, February 6th, 1877.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. RAVEN conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT EYRE . I am a mariner, and live at 3, Angel Gardens—on 18th January, at 3 p.m., I was in Royal Mint Street—I saw a large crowd, and stopped to look—there were banners displayed—I went a little further and saw these two prisoners standing-as I stopped again to look, Sullivan made a grab at my watch—I was wearing it exposed—he could not get it away the first time, but he made a second pull—I tried to catch hold of him; as I did so, he made another jerk and ran—I was going after him, he caught hold of me and threw me on my left side-while on the ground, I saw Sullivan with the watch—I chased him about 50 yards, and he turned a turning and went another 20 yards—he then went 8 or 9 yards further into a bad house, all covered with boards—a policeman came to me; I told him and he went with me—I distinctly saw Donovan both before and after I fell.
a boy came after me—from what he told me I took the prisoner Sullivan into custody, and found the watch on him—I took Donovan on the 19th on suspicion—he said that he was a—bed at the time—he was placed with a number of men, and identified by the prosecutor.
Donovan's Defence. I am innocent; my witness, Mr. Harris, promised to be here.
DONOVAN GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell, in March 1875, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COLE conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES MANLEY . I keep the Royal Oak public-house, South Woolwich—on the night of 16th January, I was at the bottom of the Minories with my brother-in-law, Bostelman, who had a dog—some one struck the dog, and my brother-in-law went up and asked him the reason—the prisoner said "For two pins I would serve you the same"—they then struggled together, and the prisoner threw Bostelman on the pavement-Bostelman said "James, my leg is broken"—the prisoner also kicked Bostelman whilst he was on the ground—I caught hold of the prisoner; we struggled; he pinned me, and then hit me over the head, and knocked me on the ground—I got up, and he ran away—I have a wound on my head; he hit me with a stick—I followed him as well as I could—he went into a baker's shop where I next saw him with a constable, and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I caught hold of you by the collar, and cried "Police"—I don't know if I choked you—I saw you kick my brother-in-law—I could not see what stick it was—it was very dull, nearly dark; the doctor said my wound might have come from a fall—I said that it was from a blow—I cannot say which man struck the dog.
ALBERT BOSTELMAN . I keep the Red Lion Inn—on 16th November, about 10.30, I and my brother-in-law were near the Minories—we had a dog—I saw the prisoner with two other persons—one of them struck the dog; I. asked why he did it, they said that they would serve me the same, and the prisoner struck me; the two attacked me together—the prisoner picked me up as I was standing, and threw me down and broke my leg—they kicked me also, and I became insensible—I have been in the hospital two months.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not put my arms round your legs. James Prior (Policeman H 117). On the night of 16th November, about 10.45, I heard cries of "Police!"—I was at the bottom of the Minories—I ran in the direction of the cries, and saw the prisoner running in front of a crowd; he went into a baker's shop—I stood at the door to detain him, and told him he was in my custody-Manley came up bleeding from the head and said "That is the man that struck me over the head with a stick." The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that he was walking with two other men, one of whom was the worse for drink, but did not see anyone strike the dog; that some remark was made, and he tried to stand between them when the prosecutor caught hold of him; a struggle ensued, and the prosecutor fell over him and broke his leg; that he only acted in his own defence and that he had been eleven weeks in prison.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DALTON conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES DOBBIN . I am a soldier discharged from the 60th Rifles on 8th January—we were living at Winchester—on coming to London the prisoner made a statement about stopping for the night—we left our kits in a public-house and went for a walk—we had a quart of ale; he took me into a coffee-shop in Spitalfields—we went up stairs, and he put his hand in my pocket and took out 5l.—I was the worse for drink—he also took a silk handkerchief off my neck, and he took my discharge and gave it to the manager of the shop and said he would come back at 9 o'clock in the morning—he did not do so—I afterwards got his address, went to Colchester and saw the prisoner at his house there, and afterwards took a policeman there and enquired whether he knew anything about my things—he said that he knew nothing about them—I told the policeman to search the house and we found my things in the prisoner's box—I had given him no authority to take them.
Cross-examined. We did not take a train after arriving in London; you might have done so.
JOSHUA EMANUEL GULLY (Essex Constabulary). On 12th January I searched the prisoner's house at Colchester, and found the kit, produced, in a box in a bed-room—the prisoner was charged with stealing it—he did not reply then-afterwards he said that he did not know anything about it—on the way to the station ho said "I shall have to thank drink for this."
Cross-examined. I followed you, upstairs; you never said "There are your things."
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE WESTWOOD (City Policeman 107). On Saturday afternoon, 27th January, about 3 o'clock, I was in Leadenhall Street with Gilbert—a procession was passing and a crowd following—I saw the prisoners and watched them, as I knew they were pickpockets—I followed them nearly to Queen Victoria Street railway station-McKnight placed himself near a young woman and Lander bore up close to him—as they were about to leave I seized Lander and Gilbert laid hold, of McKnight, who threw down a purse, which I picked up—they were taken to the station where, in McKnight's presence, the prosecutrix said "That is the man that took my purse and half-sovereign."
ISAAC GILBERT . I "was with Westwood and we saw a procession in reference to an objection to a small pox hospital; there was a band of music—I followed to Queen Victoria Street, where I saw McKnight place himself by the side of the lady and put his hands in the folds of her dress-Lander was behind him—I caught McKnight.
EMMA ELIZABETH CHAPMAN . I shall be fourteen next May—I am in service at 4, Cottage Place, Brompton—on 27th January I had' a purse in my pocket with half a sovereign in it—I had not looked at it since leaving home—the purse produced is mine.
Lander's Defence. It is the first time I have been in trouble. I met McKnight coming along. I did not know what he was about.
LANDER— NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY JOHN KERB PORTER . I assist Captain Burgess, the secretary to the Society for the Aid of the Wounded in War—we advertised in the '• Christian Union"—I received this letter marked C and the envelope marked B—it is my duty to open letters and I called the attention of Captain Burgess to this circular—the paper is a copy of the "Christian Union, of November 24th, containing a copy of the society's advertisement.
REV. CHARLES KIRKBY . I live in Ferndale Road, Brixton, and have been a congregational minister, but am now the proprietor and editor of the "Christian Union," whose offices are in Salisbury Court, Fleet Street-in consequence of communications received from advertisers in December last, I went to the offices of the "Christian Herald "in Doctor's Commons and saw the prisoner's wife first, but afterwards found the prisoner in the offices on the ground floor writing his name upon some circulars like the one produced—I asked if Mr. Bradlaugh was in—he said "I am he"—I took a bundle of twenty-three or twenty-five circulars and left the office—his name was written on the one produced; there were 200 or 300 altogether; I have read it and have tried to find out the real author of it—I attended at the police-court; Mr. George Lewis appeared for the prisoner—I do not know who employs the prisoner in the matter.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I applied to the Soldier's Home at Alder-shot, in July, 1875, for an advertisement, by letter—I afterwards went there, not to induce the lady president to advertise; she did advertise, she paid fourteen guineas—I cannot say if we had authority to insert an advertisement for St. Luke's, Bethnal Green, Medical Missionary Society, or for the Soldiers' Daughters' Home—the circulation of my paper varied, but it was about 1,000 weekly.
Re-examined. I have made no other representation for the purpose of getting advertisements than is contained in the paper produced—the object of my visit to Aldershot was an article written in my paper—the payment made was for the advertisement alone—the article appeared first—the advertisement occupied two or three pages and was inserted in three consecutive weeks.
ORVILLE WATSON POWERS . I am manager of Wilcox and Gibbs' Sewing Machine Company, 150, Cheapside—I received this circular marked "Private & Confidential"—"The Christian Union," of November 10th, contained our advertisement—when the defendant was under remand I received this letter from him. (This was dated December 21st, 1876, and asked Mr. Powers to inform the prisoners' solicitors what was the sum paid for an advertisement in "The Christian Union" and stated "Had you known that the actual number printed was only 1,000, would you have advertised in such a medium? * * * My case is adjourned till December 29th, at Bow Street." The circular was dated 23rd November, 1876, and stated "If Mr. Kirkby, editor and proprietor of "The Christian Union," has, in communicating with you about your advertisement, used any language in writing such as that his paper is a 'valuable medium,' or has a 'large circulation,' you can prosecute him in a police-court for obtaining money under false pretences.")
Cross-examined. We sometimes require a guarantee of circulation, but not invariably—I had a fair idea in this case and asked no questions.
Re-examined. The value of the advertisement is greater when the paper circulates amongst a special class.
Witnesses for the Defence.
SAMUEL PARKINS . I am manager to Messrs. Francis & Co., printers, of Wine Office Court, Fleet Street-Mr. Kirkby's paper was printed at our establishment from May 12th, to July 21st, 1876, eleven weeks-in nine of those weeks the circulation was 1,000 per week, and the other two weeks 2,000 per week.
JOHN KENNY . I am a compositor and was employed by the prisoner to set up the type for his paper from October 24th till the end of November, at 8, Salisbury Court, Fleet Street—I went in the machine-room at times—the time occupied in printing was about an hour and a half—the machine used would print about 1,000 in that time.
Cross-examined. I was not employed in the machine-room and never counted.
DAVID KNELL FRASER . I have tried to obtain copies of "The Christian Union "at 289 shops and 11 railway stations—I could not obtain it at any railway station and only at one shop. (The Prisoner read the following extract: "This journal can be obtained at every railway book-stall, and from any bookseller or newsvendor, but should any difficulty be experienced a single copy will be sent from the publishing office, if pre-paid.")
Cross-examined. I am a journalist and have been employed by the Christian Evidence Society—I did not ask any of the shop keepers if they could get me a copy—I did not tell them before hand that I should call—I made this inquiry six weeks ago, and partly before the examination at the police-court—the prisoner and his family are old friends of mine—I went without Mr. Lewis' knowledge.
JAMES EVANS . I am a confectioner in James' Street, Covent Garden—the prosecutors called upon me in reference to an advertisement in the Christmas Number of "The Christmas Union," which, he said, in general terms, was a good medium for advertisings—he said that the usual price for advertising was about 10l. but as he wished to go to press he would take 2l., or two guineas, I am not sure which—he did not say what the circulation was.
Prisoner's Defence. This newspaper states that it can be obtained at every railway station, and from every newsvendor, thereby implying that it has a large circulation, which it does not possess. If I have offended against the law I am sorry for it, but I do believe this is a system of obtaining money by false pretences. My circular was sent to those advertising and not to the public. I looked upon it as an ordinary trade circular sent for the benefit of advertisers.
THE JURY. "We find the prisoner GUILTY of libel without being actuated by any bad motive towards the prosecutor, or without any malicious intent towards him— To enter into recognizances to appear and receive judgment if called upon.
NEW COURT—Wednesday, February 7th, 1877.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
It appearing by the evidence of John Rowland Gibson, Esq., surgeon to the gaol of Newgate, that the prisoner was of unsound mind and unable to plead to the indictment, the Jury found a verdict to that effect — To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, February 7th, 1877.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
ELLEN BINFIELD . I live at 13, Mansfield Street, Aldgate—the prisoner lodged in the house with his wife and one son by a former marriage—I live on the ground floor; they also lived on the ground floor-my room was opposite theirs—on Saturday afternoon, January 20th, I was standing ironing under my window about 4 o'clock, and heard the prisoner and his wife quarrelling-as they had frequently done so I did not take much notice at first—I heard Mrs. Wren say to the prisoner "Oh, don't hit me any more, you have done enough"—I saw the-landlady go into their room first, and I followed in and saw Mrs. Wren sitting on a stool with her hands to her side; the prisoner sat on one side and the boy on the other side—I said "Oh, Mrs. Wren, what is the matter," and she said to the prisoner "Oh, you brute, you have kicked me and hit me"—he said "No, I didn't"—her two hands were to her left side; she said "Oh, you brute, you know you did"—I then left the room, leaving the landlady there, and saw no more of them after that—I afterwards saw the dead body of the woman at the London Hospital—I do not know whether the deceased was the worse for drink when I went into the room; she did not appear to be the prisoner seemed as if he were drunk, but not so much as I had seen—him—I saw no blow struck.
Prisoner. I never kicked her at all. You and she were always gin-drinking together; pals together. Witness. I have had a drop of ale once or twice. I did not notice your buttons torn off, or anything disturbed about your dress.
CHARLOTTE SILCOCK . I am the wife of Henry Silcock, and am the landlady at 13, Mansfield Street, where the prisoner and his wife were lodging, and the last witness—on this afternoon, at about 3.50, I heard Mrs. Wren scream—I ran upstairs to see what was the matter, and she, Mrs. Wren, had hold of the prisoner's whiskers, scratching or punching his face—Mrs. Wren said "He has hit me"—When said "I have never touched you; she has pulled me all to pieces," and his waistcoat was all torn open—she left her husband and said "This is all about the boy"—Wren said "It is because the boy said he was hungry; I asked the boy when I came in if he was hungry, and the boy said 'Yes'"—Mrs. Wren said "Is that a proper question to ask?"—I said "It isn't much to quarrel about," and I left the room then and went away—I went up about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards to see if they were all right, and Mrs. Wren was then holding her left side; no one saw them the first time but myself—she was sitting down when I went in, and then she stood up—I said "Has Wren hit you again?" and she said "No"—the prisoner was making the tea; I called to the other woman to look to her side to see if she was hurt, and she wouldn't allow the woman to touch her—about half an hour afterwards I heard them both go out together, apparently all right—I never, saw her again—about 10.30 that night Wren was at the door looking for his wife and enquiring if I had seen her—the deceased was in the habit of drinking—I think she drank all she could find money for, and sometimes more—she
had been drinking on this occasion; she was not so drunk as I have seen her, but she was quiet drunk—the prisoner was decidedly sober; he drank sometimes, I never remember their quarrelling if the wife was perfectly sober—I considered her disordered in the head, and when she took a little drink she was very quarrelsome, and with her tongue she was very aggravating when she bad had drink, but with' no one else than her husband—she seemed all right when she had her tea—I should think that Wren had no idea she was hurt—she had frequently complained to me of her side before.
Prisoner. She always used to go on so (Tapping his side), particularly when she wanted drink—she always told me it was the wind—once when I came home she nearly bit my nose off; I sat down so, and she put her arm round my neck and did that (Biting the side of the dock). Witness. When I went up she was jumping up to her husband's face, and she said "He has hit me," not "kicked," and the prisoner said "I never touched you;" there was nothing the matter with the prisoner's nose then—that was on a former occasion.
JOSEPH WREN . I am the prisoner's son, and am twelve years old—I lived with him and the deceased—on this afternoon I was at home—my mother kept on swearing at my father—she was my step mother—he said "I don't want no swearing at me"—my father just hit her on the side of her face with the palm of his hand—she got hold of his whiskers and punched and scratched him—he said "Will you go away," and she said "No;" he then shoved her, and she fell down against the door—they had tea, and went out together about 5 o'clock—I never saw her alive again—she tell right on her side—the door was shut—she did not complain of any pain when she got up.
By THE COURT. She got up by herself and sat in a chair and kept on swearing—before she went out she complained of pain, and kept rolling all over the place and swearing—she said "My side is bad," and then they went out—she did not say how it came to be bad—I did not see her put Her hand there—my father was sober—she was half drunk.
ALFRED GEORGE BUCKLAND , M.R.C.S. I am house-surgeon to the London Hospital—the deceased came there about 6 o'clock on the evening of 20th January—she complained to me of intense pain in the lower part of her chest—she had every appearance of suffering—I admitted her as an inpatient and examined her—her left eye was bruised, and she had a bruise over the region of the heart—I saw her again about 10 o'clock—I saw she was much worse, and I told her I was afraid she was dying—she made a statement which I took down in writing—the impression that she was dying appeared to be fully conveyed to her mind—the statement is signed by me and two other witnesses. (Read: "I, Elizabeth Wren, believing myself about to die, do hereby solemnly declare that I had been out with my husband this afternoon, that we returned home between 4 and 5 p.m., and that we had a quarrel about some money affairs, my husband being in drink at he time. I was quite sober. He was very angry indeed; came up to me while I was standing beside the table and struck me on the face and then in the stomach with his fiat. I fell on the floor, and then he struck me several more blows in the stomach; cannot say whether he used his hand or his fist. I swear that I did not strike him first, but she flew at him afterwards and scratched his face. Severe pain in the abdomen came on about half an hour after the accident. My husband is frequently in the habit of beating me. I left him in the house when I came away. Signed, Elizabeth Wren, X
Witness, A. G. Buckland, J. S. Nickoll, J. J. N. Fairclough.") She died about 10 o'clock the next morning—the cause of death was rupture of the aorta—such an injury sometimes arises from natural causes—it did not in this case—I am certain it was produced in part by violence, but had the vessel been perfectly healthy perhaps the violence would not have been sufficient to cause a rupture—any violence might have caused it—a fall, blow, or anything over the region of the injury—a blow inflicted where I found the bruise would have been likely to produce it.
Prisoner. She was very drunk when I went home, and so she was when we had tea, and I wanted to send for a bottle of soda-water to get her round. Witness. She was perfectly sober when she came to the hospital.
By THE COURT. The aorta is a large vessel of the heart, the rupture of it might not cause immediate death—it would depend on the extent of the rupture and the amount of blood that escaped—the rupture was not directly through it, but it extended between the coats to some distance—it was an extensive rupture, but still it was obliquely through the walls of the artery—I found a bruise outside the chest, and between that and the inside, by the artery I found the tissues buried in extravasated blood—the time between such an injury and death would be very variable; they generally die directly—there was nothing inconsistent with what I saw in her walking to the hospital—I mentioned before that she had some brain changes; I don't think that appears on the evidence.
JOHN MARSHALL (City Policeman 23). On 22nd January I took the prisoner, and I told him his wife was lying dead at the London Hospital, and that before she died she made a statement that he hit her in the chest and knocked her down, and that when she was down he either kicked her or hit her, I didn't know which, and no doubt violence was the cause of death—he said "I didn't do no such thing"—on the way to the station he said "I last saw her about 5 o'clock on Saturday evening, on Fish Street Hill; she then said she was ill, and I went into a house to get some brandy, and when I came out she was gone, and I didn't trouble any more about her"—he also said on the way to the station "I didn't think you would have troubled about me until after the inquest."
Prisoner's Defence. That woman Binfield has taken a false oath against me. There was never a word mentioned about kicking. I don't think her word should be taken. Her husband is in prison now for three months for stealing a watch. I had the worst of it; she would not come home to feed the boy. I happened to say that the boy said he was hungry, and she began to blackguard me, and him too, and I said "Why didn't you come home instead of going about the streets all day?" She was very near drunk at 12 o'clock, and so she was at 2 o'clock. It was all in a few minutes; she nearly pulled me to pieces. I have had to stop at home for two or three days out of the week. My shirt is tore all to pieces; if I left anything at home it was always pawned What I have got I am obliged to keep on me as I go.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy on account of the provocation he received, but it was stated that he was convicted in January, 1875, of assaulting the deceased with the but end of a gun — Two years' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT—Wednesday, February 7th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. A. B. KELLY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN FRANKS . I live at Chorlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—about I o'clock, on the morning of 10th January, I was going home and was near Charlotte Street, when I saw three men, the prisoner was one; he hit me in the back, the second one put his hand into my mouth, and against my nose, the third took my purse and went away first, the one who held my mouth ran away next, and the prisoner last; I fell on the ground—I afterwards ran after them calling "Police"—I caught the prisoner by the coat, and gave him in charge—there was 7l. 10s. in my parse.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not drunk; I had one glass of ale.
THOMAS CRANFIELD (Policeman E 188). I was on duty and heard cries of "Police"—I ran to the corner of Charlotte Street, and saw the prosecutor holding the prisoner by the arm—he gave him into my custody for stealing his purse and 7l. 10s.—I took the prisoner to the station where he was charged—the prosecutor was sober.
Cross-examined. I did not hear the prosecutor call you a convict—he said you tripped him up.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was that he was coming home from a music hall, and seeing five or six men round the prosecutor went to look, and the prosecutor charged him with the theft and with tripping him up, and that the prosecutor was very drunk.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor said if he could not get the right thief he would get one, and at the station he said that I was a regular convict in order to press the charge. My witness is not here.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. C. MATHEWS conducted the Prosecution; MR. M. WILLIAMS with MR. COOPER WYLD the Defence.
THOMAS HARRISON . I am a fire wood cutter, of 11, Romney Street—lam the prisoner's father and work for him—a few days before Christmas last, between 6 and 7 o'clock p.m., two sacks of corn were brought in to my sons premises in a little van—I did not notice what name was on the van, but a Mr. Gibson who hawks coals, was driving; a Mr. Carter, who works for Mr. Winn, a carman, carried the sacks into an office where we keep the horses' forage, near the gate of the yard—Gibson stayed in the van—Carter then asked for 26s.—he did not mention my son's name—I went to my son's wife and got it—she acts as cashier—I gave it to Carter, and they went away—I said to my son the next day "Have you ordered any corn?"—he said "No; who brought it"—I told him Gibson and Carter—he said "They had no business to bring it"—he also said "They ought to have taken the sacks away; I won't touch them"—the police afterwards took them.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. My son was out when the corn, came—the sacks were not touched till the police came.
JOHN WINN . I am a contractor, of 69, Horseferry Road, West—Carter was in my employment in December as a chaff cutter, and remained so till he who apprehended—I know Gibson, he is a fellow tradesman—the sample of corn produced is similar to some I had, but I cannot swear to it jotter people may have bought of the same man.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have known the prisoner for many years, and believed he was a respectable man; I also know Mr. Wright, he does not require me to deposit on the sacks I use.
JOHN PRESTON (Detective Officer B). On the afternoon of 12th January, about 4.30 I went to Palace Wharf, Nine Elms, in company with Barry and Clinch, all detectives, we saw the prisoner and asked for Mr. Harrison; he said that he was Mr. Harrison—I told him two men, named Gibson and Carter were in custody for stealing corn, and asked if he had any—he took me into his office, near the gate, and into another little room, where I saw two sacks full of corn, marked "T. & G. Wright, Millbank Road, Westminster "—he said the sacks had been brought before Christmas by Carter and Gibson in Gibson's van, and that he had paid 13s.; afterwards he said 13s. a sack—I said "That would be more than the wholesale price"—I then said that he must consider himself in my custody for receiving them, knowing them to have been stolen—I asked if he had any more—he said that he had had a lot, but he told them not to bring any more over as it was getting too hot for him, and they should all get into trouble, and he did not think he had paid for it for he was not at home when it was brought—he then asked if I would let him go on with his business for a couple of days—I said that I could not—then he asked if I would allow him to make out & bill or two, and he made some out and handed them to the carman, who went away with a horse and van—when I returned to the outer office, Clinch and Barry had got a number of sacks, and I asked the prisoner to account for them—he said that he had borrowed one or two of Mr. Wright when it had been wet—he was then put into a cab and taken to Rochester Row, Westminster, and charged—Mr. Wright's foreman came in the evening, and the prisoner asked him if he had not borrowed the sacks—the foreman said that he had lent one or two, but it would not do for his master to hear him say that, for he was not allowed to lend sacks—the prisoner said that it must be more than that, but he said no, not more than two or three at the outside—the prisoner also said he had bought some corn of Mr. Wright—Clinch and Barry were with me then.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Clinch and Barry heard this conversation—I believe I mentioned at the police-court that the prisoner said he had had a "lot"—I said before the Magistrate "He pointed to two sacks in the room, and 'These two sacks were brought very near Christmas time, one night when I was out, by Carter and Gibson. It was in Gibson's van. I had told them previously not to bring any more as I should get into trouble'"—I did not make any memorandum of the conversation.
CHARLES CLINCH (Detective Officer B). I went with Preston to the prisoner's wharf, and heard the conversation—after the prisoner had admitted that he was Harrison, Preston said "We are policemen," and the prisoner then asked us into an office—we went into a little room and I saw two sacks of corn—I do not recollect the exact words Preston said, but the prisoner answered "I told them not to bring any more. It was getting too hot, and we should all get into trouble"—the prisoner also said the corn was left when he was out, and that he had paid for it—he afterwards said that he had not
paid for it—he mentioned some sum that he had paid per sack, and then he said that it was as much per quarter—I saw five sacks filled with chaff—I said "What are these?"—he said "That is chaff, it is mine, I have paid for it"—I turned the chaff out with Barry's assistance.
URIAH EASTWELL . I am clerk to Messrs. T. & G. Wright, corn merchants, 16, Millbank Road—Mr. Harrison dealt with our firm eighteen months ago—he used to have a sack and sometimes two, about every eight or Dine days—the price would depend upon the quality and the time.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. We lose 2,000 sacks in a year—we send out thousands weekly; we have 1s. deposit usually, but we do not summons people who do not return them.
NOT GUILTY .
COHEN MASKS . I am a surgeon, of Hind Street, Poplar—on 10th March, 1876, about 9.30 p.m., I was going down Shovel Alley, St. George's-in—the-East, with a parcel in my right hand and a stick in my left—a woman cried "Old man, look out, there are some thieves after you"—I heard footsteps behind and turned round—I was seized and my arms were pinioned—one man opened my coat and took my watch and chain and I have not seen it since—I do not know how many there were.
RICHARD COLLIER . I live at 44, Spencer Street—I was in Shovel Alley on 10th March—I saw Marks coming down the alley with some eggs and butter in his arms—three lads came and took hold of him, unbuttoned his coat, and took his watch and chain—I was 10 yards off—I could not distinguish their faces, but I know the prisoner by his hair—I did not follow them, as I had some coal with me.
HARRY SMITH . I live at 3, Chapman Place, St. George's—on 10th March I was in Shovel Alley, about 9.30—four young men ran by me, the prisoner was one—three of them took hold of Mr. Marks—I knew the prisoner's face, as I had seen him ten minutes before at the wheelwright's.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had an empty basket.
JOSEPH NEWMAN (Policeman H). On 22nd March I took three lads to Worship Street to see the prisoner, who was placed with seven other men who were charged with various offences—on 26th I took the prisoner to the House of Correction and charged him with being concerned with George Fisher and James Spier, who are now undergoing penal servitude, in stealing a watch, on 10th March—he made no answer—when taken he said to some one "Keep your spirits up. I'm bound to get chucked"—he tried also to reach out of the window of the cab and get away.
Cross-examined. I said "I know I can cook you"—I have taken you before for assaulting the police.
Prisoner's Defence. The policeman knows I know nothing of this, and has—said if he could not lay me he would lie alongside of me. I was at work on a ship at the time.
He was further charged with having been convicted, in March, 1875, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES ROBINSON . I live at 66, St. George's Street, St. George's-in-the-East—on Saturday, 12th January, I sent a hamber containing soiled linen to the Two Bells public-house, Whitechapel; I have since seen and identified them—the value of the goods is about 3l.
WILLIAM MACK . I live at the Two Bells—on 12th January I saw the prisoner Nash and two other men in the tap-room—Brown was sitting on a form about 4 yards from the basket—I saw them all talking together between 12 and 1 o'clock—between 3 and 4 o'clock I noticed that the cord was untied—I said "Somebody has untied the basket," and Nash went up the yard—Brown stopped in.
THOMAS BALCOMB (Policeman H 66). I was called to the Two Bells about 4 o'clock and found that a basket of things had been untied—I found several curtains in one corner of the taproom and a jacket and a pair of socks in another, and five or six shirts in the rear of the premises—Nash and Brown were there; I took them in custody and called in another constable and searched them; we found a silk handkerchief on Nash—Brown said that he knew nothing of it—I noticed that Brown's coat was torn behind the right arm.
BROWN— NOT GUILTY .
(See next page).
JAMES JONES . I am a clothier's agent, of 38, Langdale Street—on 6th January, about 6.15, I was in the West India Dock Basin, and saw the prisoner and another coloured man—I was coming ashore, and was making way for a man named Griffiths to pass when I received a blow—I put my head down and the prisoner stabbed me and ran away—I called "Police!" "Murder!"—Griffiths said "What's the matter?"—I said "I have been stabbed"—two or three people came to my assistance and I went to the hospital—my brother keeps a lodging-house—I did not say that I came to spot the prisoner; I did nothing to him previously—I. did not see the weapon—the blow felt numb—the prisoner was the only man on deck.
Cross-examined. I know that the prisoner keeps a lodging-house—I do not know if he keeps runners; I am called a runner—we get seamen to lodge at our house and buy clothes—I first saw the prisoner on a barge—I did not strike him nor see him struck—I was not going to get a belaying pin—I did not know the prisoner was near me; I did not see four or five men attack the prisoner.
Re-examined. The only man I saw was Griffiths, coming out of the forecastle.
THOMAS GRIFFITHS . I am a lighterman, of 35, Wellclose Square—I was on a schooner, on 6th January, about 6.15 p.m., and saw the prisoner and James come" over the bulwarks of the ship—I was coming out of the forecastle, when 1 met the prisoner and Jones—Jones turned round and the prisoner struck him; I could not see what with, but Jones's face bled very much—I helped to take him on shore.
Cross-examined. I am not a runner—a man asked me to carry a bag on board—I did not see the prisoner struck.
WILLIAM HUGHES . I am house-surgeon at the Poplar Hospital—I dressed the prosecutor's face on 6th January—there was an incised wound reaching from his nose to a little beyond the angle of his jaw on the left side of his face—it was caused by some sharp instrument; he was discharged from the hospital on 20th January—the wound was dangerous.
CHARLES SORTWELL (Dock Constable). On Saturday, 6th January, about 6 p.m., I heard a cry, and saw the prosecutor at the end of a barge with his face bleeding very badly—I afterwards saw the prisoner under a tarpaulin in an empty barge—on seeing me he jumped from one barge to another, and I went after him—he dropped something over-board—I said "You had better give it up, and come ashore"—he looked round, and said "Very well, officer, I will come to you"—I then put out my hand, and he jumped from the barge; I searched him, and charged him with stabbing a man—he said "Very well, I should not have done it had they 1st me' alone to try and get my living"—further along, he said "This man is one of seven or eight who kicked me in the ribs until I could hardly stand the other day at Blackwall"—he also said "You need not hold me, for 1 know I have laid myself open to the law"—at the station, he said "I am very sorry as far as my wife is concerned, but I have given this man no more than he deserves."
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not tell me that he had got under the tarpaulin for the purpose of avoiding further violence.
Witness for the Defence.
LEWIS JACKSON . I am a seaman," and live at 221, St. George's Road—I was on board the Hollingside, having just come in—I saw a. man strike the prisoner, and four or five jump on him—I heard him cry "Police!"—I think it was between 6 and 7 p.m.—I did not-see the prisoner strike any one.
The prisoner received a good character— GUILTY* of unlawfully wounding — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS SALMON . On Friday, 12th January, I went into a public-house in the Queensland Road—I had four half-sovereigns in my pocket—I had occasion to take some money from my pocket; there was a woman there—when I came outside a little before, the prisoner seized me by ray left arm ana the woman grasped my money—I laid hold of her wrist, and she bit me through the joint of ray finger—I had to let her go—I followed her, and again caught hold of her, when the prisoner knocked me down—I got up and again caught hold of the woman—the prisoner knocked me down again—I got up, and caught hold of the woman again, when an omnibus came up, and 1 had to let her go—I then seized the prisoner and tore his coat, and he tore mine and kicked me in the—I am suffering from the effect of the injuries received—I know the prisoner, and can swear that he is the" Man, having seen him in public-houses where my business lies.
Witness for the Defence.
Cross-examined. This was on Friday, the 12th—I saw the prisoner again on the Saturday—I remember the time, because I went to the Britannia Theatre, at Hoxton, which I reached at 6.50—it is twenty minutes' walk—another man was in the public-house at time—I live in the house; I help the potman—I have not seen the prisoner change the half-sovereigns—the public-house is about twenty minutes' walk from Queensland Road—the prisoner is in my father's employment as potman—I did not notice his coat—he usually came in about 6 o'clock, and stopped till the house closed, but he came in that day between 12 and 2 o'clock.
He was further charged with a previous conviction at Clerkenwell, in November, 1874** to which he
PLEADED GUILTY— Twelve Months' Imprisonment and twenty lashes.
NEW COURT—Thursday, February 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. FRITH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PURCELL the Defence. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
245. HENRY STENNING (28) , Unlawfully assaulting John George Littlechild, a constable, in the execution of his duty. Second Count—for a like assault, with intent to prevent his lawful apprehension. Third Count—For a common assault on John George Littlechild. Fourth Count—Unlawfully attempting to suborn one George Flintoff to swear falsely in a charge of fraud. Fifth Count—Unlawfully being in possession of a plan to be used for the purpose of procuring the release of a prisoner. Sixth Count—Unlawfully attempting to procure the escape of a prisoner. Seventh Count—Unlawfully attempting to aid William Kerr to escape from lawful custody.
MESSRS. FULTON and GILL conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. M WILLIAMS and HORACE AVORY the Defence.
MR. WILLIAMS submitted that the Fifth Count ought to be quashed as not disclosing any offence, it simply alleged that the prisoner went to the police-court with a plan of that Court in his pocket, for the purpose of procuring the release of a prisoner, and that unless some further act were done in pursuance of that purpose, there was not sufficient to constitute an offence; in like manner the mere possession of counterfeit coin or of an indecent print were not sufficient of themselves, unless some attempt was shown to utter them; there was a locus penitentiae for everybody, and whatever his intention might have been when he went to the Court, he might change his mind before committing any illegal act—and that as to the sixth and seventh counts he should have to submit at the proper time, there was no evidence of such an attempt as would, if successful, amount to a misdemeanour. (See "Reg v. Eagleton," I Dearsley, 515, "Reg v. Stenwick," Russell and Ryan, page 268, and "Keg v. Heath," Russell and Ryan, page 184). Mr. H. Avory on the same side, urged that an attempt was such an act as would amount to the crime itself it
no interruption took place, but that merely having the plan in his possession could not have been successful in procuring the result intended. MR. FULTON continued that the fifth count was good, and referred to "Reg. v. Roberts," Dearsleys Crown Cases, page 539. Mr. Justice Lindley having consulted MR. JUSTICE LUSH, considered that the fifth count was good, and postponed for the present any decision upon the sixth and seventh counts.
GEORGE FLINTOFF . I am a civil engineer of 8, Northumberland Street, Strand—on 29th December I went to the office of Messrs. Abrahams—& Roffey; and on Saturday, the 30th, I went to Marlborough Street police-court and swore an information against a man named Kerr and others, for fraud and conspiracy—on the Sunday evening I was sent for to Islington police-station, and saw Kerr in custody—I had had frequent opportunities of seeing him before and knew him well—on Monday morning, January 1st, the prisoner Stenning called at my house—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—he did not ask my name; my name is on my door—he said "You recognised the person who was arrested last night at the Islington police-court, but you recognised him by gas-light, don't you think it is quite possible that you have recognised the wrong person?"—I said "You allude, of course, to Kerr, one of the four parties who formerly occupied the suite of apartments in this house?"—he said "Yes; Kerr and I have often been taken as brothers, in fact, I have known him from his youth up, he is a very good fellow; have you any-animosity towards me? and could you not go to the Marlborough Street police-office to-day, when the prisoner Kerr is brought up, and say that you have mistaken the person's identity?"—he also said "You could not positively deny the identity, might you not say that you are not quite sure about the identity?"—my reply was that Kerr, with others, had been visiting those chambers at 8, Northumberland Street for nearly a month, and were in and out five or six times a day; that Kerr was a very tall man and so easily to be known, that I could not possibly fail to recognise him—he said that if I would go to the Court and say that he was not the right man, or that I thought he was not the right man, he was prepared at once to pay any reasonable amount of money for my doing so, and asked me to accompany him to the Northumberland Hotel close by, to carry out—his plan—I refused to do so—I told him I could not possibly contradict the information, to which I had sworn, which had led to the arrest of Kerr—that conversation took place shortly after 11 a.m., and by 11.30 I had communicated what took place to the police at Scotland Yard, and at 2 o'clock that day I went to Marlborough Street—I saw the prisoner outside the Court about 1.50—he spoke to me—he brought up a gentleman who I had not previously known—he did not introduce him to me, but I afterwards found him to be a practising solicitor of that Court, called Froggatt, who repeated the offers to bribe me, but he put it in a more definite shape—I told him that it was impossible that I could state anything but the actual facts, that I had been called upon by the prosecution to simply identify the party, and I could not deviate from my proper course of action—the Court opened at 2 o'clock, and Mr. Froggatt followed me into the Court, and to make the conversation, as I suppose, much more secret, invited me to the passage leading to the cells of the Court, by the goaler's room, and he there offered to give me 50l.—Stenning was not there—after that I went into Court and identified Kerr—I had no further conversation with Stenning—I had never seen Stenning or Froggatt in my life before January 1st.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I was before the Magistrate on two
or three occasions, and was examined by Mr. Poland on behalf of the Crown and cross-examined by you—I have not taken the trouble to consider whether I have given the same account to-day as I did at the police-court, or whether I have amplified it—I cannot say whether I have given it considerably more in detail to-day; I do not take the trouble to recollect what I am going to say; I always speak the truth, but I make thousands of speeches—I have not said to-day more than I said before the Magistrate, but at the time you cross-examined by Mr. poland—they did not come out a portion of them—I was re-examined by Mr. Poland—they did not come out only a they were frustrated—they came out partially; as much as was sufficient to make his Lordship and the Jury understand.
Q. His Lordship and the Jury were not at the police-court? A. Every word I have told you to-day came out then, but not in the same words—by being frustrated I mean that in the middle of the charge Mr. Froggatt jumped up in the Court and the legal gentleman for the Crown seemed to fancy that he was a privileged person.
Q. You mean to assert that you brought that charge against Mr. Froggatt at the police-court, and that Mr. Poland, acting for the Crown, stopped it? A. It was Mr. Newton suggested that the attorney was an agent, and that matters between an attorney and his client could not be dealt with; that was the inference; I do not mean to say that Mr. Newton said that after, I said that Mr. Froggatt had attempted to bribe me.
Q. Now you are making accusations against the Magistrate, do you mean to say that you told Mr. Newton that Mr. Froggatt, outside the police-court, had put this attempt to bribe you in a more definite form and that Mr. Newton refused to hear it? A. I did not tell him the exact words, I was stopped—I have given it in evidence that Mr. Froggatt attempted to bribe me—I never said a word at the police-court about Mr. Froggatt offering me 50l., but it was in the brief—I have not sworn it in any court of justice before today, I had no opportunity, I should if I had had an opportunity—this is the first time in my life that I ever heard that a reward was offered for the apprehension of Kerr and the others; that I swear.
Q. Then everything you did in the matter, going to Mr. Abrahams and everything, was for the furtherance of the ends of justice? A. That is ail nonsense, I did not care a straw about the ends of justice—I told them I must be paid for my time—I said before the Magistrate "I was applied to on the Friday previous to my coming here on Saturday to swear an information, I declined to say anything until I had my expenses; I received 5l. from Mr. Abrahams before I said anything; I fixed the sum of 5l. for my expenses; I took it in order to be convinced that it was a bond fide affair and something to fall back upon"—Mr. Abrahams asked me whether I would take a cheque for my 5l. and I said that I must have money, that was to show that I was an unwilling witness; I was an unwilling witness with 5l. to fall back upon, I do not walk outside my door without something to fall back upon; I should require 5l. to come outside my door to see you—I said that I did not care one straw for furthering the ends of justice, and I do not now—I did not also say that I hoped I should get something else out of it; I said that 1 was entitled to something; I live in hopes—I said before the Magistrate that when the prisoner first came he did not ask me my name, but he might have done so—I have said that while I was having the conversation with him in the street Sergeant Manton passed; I have not told you half.
Re-examined. I did not tell about Sergeant Manton, because I was not
asked—when I was stating what Mr. Froggatt said to me I was interrupted, he got up and made some statement and in answer to it the Magistrate, Mr. Newton, said "Then you claim it as a privilege"—I understood that he addressed that remark to Mr. Froggatt, but it stopped the matter from further inquiry—no other objection was taken to my continuing the statement I had commenced—before I went into Court I had given all the particulars to the solicitor for the prosecution, Mr. Abrahams—I have had to appear over twenty times; I have been at the police-court about thirteen times, and I have attended at the solicitor's office for the prosecution eight or ten times, and, at the request of the Magistrate, at Marlborough Street, once, and I have received nothing but the 5l.
JOHN GEORGE LITTLECHILD . I am a detective sergeant of Scotland Yard—on 30th December I received two warrants for Kerr's apprehension, and on Sunday evening, 31st December, I went with Sergeant Manton and Sergeant Boots to 29, Marquis Road, Islington, about 7 o'clock or 7.15—I saw Kerr, and the prisoner, and two others there—I recognised Kerr shortly after he left the house, when he was in the Essex Road, which is about three minutes' walk from the Marquis Road—I hastened my speed to arrest him, and overtook him in Canonbury Street—previous to overtaking Ken, Stenning turned back, and accosting Sergeant Manton said "Halloo, Manton," and then, apparently addressing Kerr, said "Now run"—I was immediately behind him—four men had left the house together, but one waited behind, and there were only two present when he said "Now run"—he was then walking arm-in-arm with Kerr, and the third man was on his right, and Kerr was on his left—Kerr immediately began to run, and I started to run likewise, and the prisoner turned round and faced me, and caught me under the armpits, at the same time placing his leg across my front; Marton was then by my side, I could not see where Roots was—I threw the prisoner off, and immediately pursued Kerr, and when I had arrested him the prisoner came up behind—several people came round, and there was a small crowd—I placed Kerr in a cab, and the prisoner was standing at the cab door—I got into the cab with Manton, and sent Roots back to 29, Marquis Road—the prisoner then came up to the cab with Roots, to whom I said "Just see after that fellow, see that he does not do any mischief"—Stenning then said to Kerr "Shall I go and see F?"—Kerr said "Yes"—Stenning asked Kerr for his address; he said"—60 or 70, Tulse Hill"—I heard the words Tulse Hill and a number, but 1 cannot say what number—I drove away with Kerr to the station, and found in Kerr's trowsers pocket, what is called a hip pocket, a six-chamber revolver—next day, at 2 o'clock, Kerr was brought up for examination at Marlborough Street, and I saw Stenning in the vicinity of the Court previously, and I saw him afterwards sitting immediately behind Kerr, who was in the dock—I did not speak to him, but I made a commu—nication about him, and while I was giving ray evidence he was ordered by the Magistrate to be taken in custody—I at once took him in custody at the rear of the police-station, and took him to the dock, and while the sergeant on duty was preparing the charge—sheet I saw him take from his breast pocket a piece of paper, and begin immediately to tear it up—I seized his hands and took the paper from him—I did not look at it minutely—I unfolded a portion of it, and handed it to Inspector Hume—I could nut positively swear to it—I afterwards searched him, and found this book (produced), bearing the name "H. Stenning."
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. When I met him face to face he
clasped me and put his foot out—I pushed him away—that is the obstrnetion I complain of; I believe it is an assault in law—he followed me down to the cab, and J told the officer to follow him—I did not tell him to take him in custody, but 1 made up my mind; I had not sufficient assistance—I had Manton and Roots there; Manton went in the cab, and Roots had other duties to perform—I saw the prisoner outside the station next day for about half an hour—I did not give him in custody, or speak to him, or charge him with the assault—it was during the time I was in the witness-box that the Magistrate told me to take him in custody—I found something like is. on him.
JOHN ROBINSON MANTON . I am a detective sergeant of Scotland Yard—on Sunday night, 31st December, I went with Littlechild and Roots, to 29, Marquis Road, Islington—I kept observation outside and saw some people come out, among whom were the prisoner and Kerr—I followed them with Littlechild and Roots—they went towards Essex Road, and into Canonbury Road; Kerr was then in front of the others, and Stenning who was walking by Kerr's side turned round to look at us, and one of the parties said "Halloo Manton"—I heard somebody say "Now run," but I don't known who it was—Kerr then started to run away, and Stenning threw himself in front of Littlechild, and took hold of him—I saw Littlechild free himself, and then we both followed Kerr, and I arrested him; Roots was a little in arrear—I got a cab and got into it with Littlechild, and Kerr and the prisoner then came to the cab window, and said to Kerr something about "Shall I tell F?" and asked for an address which Kerr gave him at Hearne Hill—I had known Kerr before by sight, and I had known Stenning as a companion of Kerr's, about five or six weeks—we took Kerr to the station and next day at the police-court, I saw Stenning sitting immediately behind Kerr, and while the case was going on he touched me and said "Which is the man I stopped?"—I pointed to Littlechild, and he said "I suppose that is the man that hit me then"—I cannot say whether anything was said' about a stick, I know Littlechild had a stick in his possession—somebody called out "Halloo Manton"—I do not know whether either of the prisoners knew me.
Gross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I was looking out for Kerr, when I heard "Now run"—seeing my colleague stopped I turned round to see if he was safe, and I saw Littlechild just parting from him—I do not know whether any stick was used, but I saw him close with Littlechild—I saw a very short scuffle—Littlechild had a stick—when I saw the prisoner sitting in the police-court, I did not attempt to take him, but I had my eye on him by the direction of my chief—he was taken in custody by order of the Magistrate, while Littlechild was in the box—I had not seen him outside the police-court.
THOMAS ROOTS (Detective Officer). On 31st December, I went with Sergeant Marton and Littlechild, to 29, Marquis Road, Islington, and saw the prisoner there with William Kerr and two other men—I followed them down the Ashby Road, and down Essex Road, into Canonbury Road, some allusion was made to Manton, and I heard the prisoner say "Now run"—he then turned and threw his arms round Littlechild, who threw him off, and we then pursued Kerr together, overtook him and put him into a cab—I went down to the cab with the prisoner and Kerr, and 1 then returned to Kerr's house—on the following day I saw the prisoner at Marlborough Street police-court, sitting on a bench at the back of the dock—William
Kerr was brought into the dock alone, and the prisoner was immediately behind him—while Sergeant Littlechild was giving evidence about a sir-chambered revolver loaded being taken from Kerr, the prisoner touched me on the knee and said "You may think yourself b—lucky that you did not have one of them into you"—I made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. It was after that that he was given in custody by order of the Magistrate—nobody else heard those words, I was actually sitting next to him on his right and no one was near—I knew he was the person who had been with Kerr the previous day—I never attempted to take him at the police-court, but the day before, at 7 p.m., I put my arm through his and walked with him down to the cab, but we did not want him—I think I saw him outside the police-court but I won't be positive—I know I saw him before he was arrested for about an hour off and on—I never attempted to take him in custody.
WILLIAM JOHN HUME (Police Inspector C). I have charge of the station adjoining Marlborough Street police-court—I was there on 1st January when Littlechild brought Stenning in there; he was placed in the dock and charged with assaulting Sergeant Littlechild in the discharge of his duty; Littlechild proceeded to search him, and the prisoner took something from his pocket and began tearing up a piece of paper—Littlechild seized his hand and desired him to give it up to him, which he did; and Littlechild handed this piece of paper (produced) to me torn in three places; it is a sketch of the back of the police-court and of the police-station—those dotted lines lead from a cell in which Kerr was confined (marked "Tour all" in the sketch), through the reserve-room attached to the station into Marlborough Mews, and another line leads from the goaler's-room, through the same reserve-room, into the street—neither of those lines lead through the Court—the door from the reserve-room leads out into Marlborough Mews—a person brought from cell No. 3, where Kerr was, into the police-court, would pass the door leading into the reserve-room—two constables were generally on duty in the reserve-room.
GEORGE GREENHAM (Police Inspector of Scotland Yard). I made a plan of the Marlborough Street police-court and its approaches—I have a copy of it before me (produced), this is an accurate representation of the position of the various parts of the station and the police-court.
GEORGE DIXON (Police Sergeant). On Saturday, 30th December, I passed through the gaoler's-room at Marlborough Street, about 12.40 p.m., and saw there a prisoner named Murray, who was there under remand, and Kerr and Stenning; they were all talking together—that was after Murray had been brought before the Magistrate—they were there when I went out at we or three minutes to 1 o'clock, so that they were together about twenty minutes—two gaolers were present—Mr. Froggatt, was there—the smallest of these two rooms on the plan is the gaoler's-room—there are three entrances to the gaoler's-room, two from the Court and one from the station.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Mr. Froggatt was, at that time, appearing as solicitor for Murray—two gaolers were standing within 4 feet of them.
JAMES MOSLER (Police Sergeant C 9). On Monday morning, 1st January, shortly after 10 o'clock, I saw Stenning at Marlborough Street police-court—Mr. Froggatt was with him—they were coming from the back entrance of the police-court—there are steps there leading to the inspector's
office—the prisoner remained there while I accompanied Mr. Froggatt to the cell which is by a dog—shed—he could see from there the steps leading to the cells—Mr. Froggatt went up the steps with me—not a word was said by the prisoner, but Mr. Froggatt said that he was going to defend the prisoner Kerr and wished to see him in the cell—I said "You can see him, but not the person who is with you"—Mr. Froggatt replied "Oh, no, you remain here and wait for me"—I left the prisoner standing by the dog—shed, and when I returned he was still there—I saw him there almost the whole time and he and Mr. Froggatt went away after the interview—I saw Stenning again, about 12 o'clock, by the three steps leading to the inspector's office, coming from the gaoler's-room—that is a different portion of the building to what he was in before—Mr. Froggatt had an interview with Kerr, leaving the prisoner by the steps, and there he was when I came back again and they went away again together.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I saw Stenning first at 10 o'clock in the yard in the rear of the police-court—the police-court fronts into Marl borough Street, and the station is at the hack, so that he was between the station and the court—I had not seen Roots and the other officers the whole morning—their place would be to come for their prisoners—the prisoner was in the yard again between the two places at 12 o'clock, but for a very short time—it was not till 2.30 that he was given in charge by the Magistrate.
J. G. LITTLECHILD (re-examined). The words "Your cell" on this sketch indicate the position in which Kerr was confined when he was going before the Magistrate—it is cell No. 6—1,000l. reward was offered some considerable time before this for the apprehension of the offenders in the turf frauds.
MR. GILL proposed to call an expert to prove that the writing "H. Stenning," in the book found on the prisoner, corresponded with the writing on the sketch, and also with that of two anonymous letters received by the solicitor for the prosecution, but MR. JUSTICE LINDLEY considered that the writing in the book would not be a safe standard of comparison to go by, and the evidence was not pressed.
This being the case for the prosecution, MR. M. WILLIAMS submitted that there was no evidence on the two first Counts; as to the assault on the officer in the execution of his duty, it could hardly be called so, as the officers admitted that they did not want to take the prisoner for it; and that nothing was done to prevent the lawful apprehension of Kerr. MR. JUSTICE LINDLEY considered that there was an assault, through it was not a very serious one, and that there was an attempt to stop pursuit. MR. WILLIAMS then re-newed his arguments upon the fifth, sixth, and seventh Counts, contending that there was no evidence to support them, and that the plan was not proved, to he in the prisoner's writing. MR. FULTON urged that there was evidence of the prisoner's presence in the court with a plan of the court and its approaches, which, when taken in custody, he attempted to destroy. MR. JUSTICE LIVDLEY considered that the fifth Count must go to the Jury, but that there was no evidence on the sixth and seventh.
GUILTY on all the Counts but the sixth and seventh — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT—Wednesday, February 7th, and Thursday, February 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MESSRS. STRAIGHT and HORACE AVORY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BESLEY and TICKELL the Defence.
ELIZABETH COLLINS . I live at 99, Stanley Street, Pimlico, and am the widow of the deceased—I have known the prisoner, I should think over twelve months—the first time I saw him was in the Harrow Road, talking to my niece Carry Stephens, and she introduced him to me—I saw him twice after that at Mrs. Stephens'—the first time he came to our house was to fetch a hamper to take into Cornwall—I think that was sometime in October last year, be came in Mr-Stephen's trap and took the hamper away with him; that was the first time Mr. Collins saw him, I introduced him to him; he stayed somewhere about half an hour, they sat and talked some time, I don't know what about, I was there part of the time—the next time he came was on Thursday, 14th December, he had only been to the house once before that, that was when he came for the hamper; to the best of my recollection, that was the only time—on 14th December he came a little before 12.45, I let him in—after wishing me good morning, he said "Is Selina here"—she is a sister of Carry Stephens—I did not know that "he was engaged to be married to Carry but I knew that they kept company—he said he had had a letter from Selina to meet him there at 1 o'clock; he looked up at the clock and said "I am before ray time, it now wants a quarter"—he did not show me any letter—Mr. Collins was at home at that time, and he asked him to stay to dinner—we were in the front kitchen; he marked some new linen for me—I said to him "It is no use to have friends, Mr. Treadaway, unless you make use of them," and he said "No, what is it?"—I said "To mark some new linen for me, will you do it?" and he said "Yes"—all this took place in the front kitchen, which we use as a sitting room; he stayed to dinner with Mr. Collins and me—after dinner he wrote a letter, Mr. Collins gave him paper and envelope, and I gave him a stamp—after that I told him I was going to Paddington if I could get my work done—I went to Paddington about 4 o'clock, leaving him and Mr. Collins there, talking very comfortably together—I returned about 10.45 the same evening; the prisoner was then gone—Mr. Collins met me just outside the gate, waiting for me to come home—I saw the prisoner again next morning, the 15th, he came to our house about 10.30; I let him in at the area door, which we generally use—after wishing me good morning, he said "Is Mr. Collins in?"—I said he was not in, but he would be soon, and asked him to walk in—I put Mr. Collins' easy chair for him to sit down in the front kitchen—he said he was very tired—I asked him if he had got the letter in his pocket that he had told me the day before he had from Selina—he said "No, I have not been home all night, I have been walking about. I have not been to bed"—I said "You must be very tired," and I gave him a cushion to his back, and asked him to get a doze before Mr. Collins came in; but he did not seem sleepy—I then told him who I had seen at Paddington, and what passed there, and who took me to the 'bus—he asked how they all were; he meant my neice, and the Stephens—I told him they were all very well, with the exception of Mrs. Stephens, and as he knew she was never very well—he asked me if the workmen had—their meals there, if the workmen were there to tea—I said no, I never saw any workmen have any meals there; he said they did—Mr. Collins had not come in 'during that time, he came in about 11 o'clock, and came into the front kitchen; he
wished the prisoner good morning, and asked him if he had had his breakfast—he said he had—I told Mr. Collins that he wanted to speak to him—Mr. Collins had been to the butcher's for a piece of mutton to boil for dinner, and he brought it in with him and put it on the dresser, and I went to prepare the dinner and left them talking together in an ordinary way, as people would—I did not hear what they were talking about, I did not pay any attention—I went in and out a good many times—I was cooking the dinner in the front kitchen, as we had no fire in the back kitchen that day—there is no door communicating between the front and back kitchens; you go out of the front kitchen door into the passage, and then a step or two into the back kitchen—they were talking together all the time I was getting the dinner ready—it was ready about 1.30 as near as I can think, I could not tell justly—before the mutton was quite ready Mr. Collins asked me to prepare him a basin of broth, and he said to the prisoner "Are you a hand at broth"—he said he was not hungry—Mr. Collins had his broth; I poured the prisoner out a glass of ale, and he drank it, and I ate my dinner—I did not wait for the mutton, I had a chop, which I had prepared separately—when I took up the dinner I asked the prisoner to come, and I saw Mr. Collins carve for him and likewise for himself—when I left the kitchen he was still sitting in the armchair; I took up the dinner and left it on the table, and went into the other kitchen to make a pudding—whether he ate the dinner or not I don't know; I was out quite long enough for him to have done so—when I came into the front kitchen again he was still sitting in the chair, and Mr. Collins had finished his dinner and moved round, sitting in a different position talking to him; instead of sitting at the table eating his dinner he had turned himself round, talking; they were very near together—I then cleared away all the dinner things off the table, and went into the back kitchen—I was backwards and forwards clearing away; there were a great many things—during all that time they were in the kitchen talking together—once when I went in I saw the prisoner looking at a fiddle that Mr. Collins had hanging up on a nail on the wall; he was standing with one foot on the sofa and reaching at the fiddle, as though he had been looking at it; he was hanging it up again—when I left them there was only the distance of the table between them; Mr. Collins was sitting, and the prisoner was standing at the side of the table nearest the kitchen door—I saw him standing, hat in hand, as though he was going; I could not swear whether he was sitting the last time I saw him or whether he was standing, hat in hand, but I saw him both sitting and standing at different times—when I went in Mr. Collins was still sitting in the chair in the same place—up to that time I heard nothing to notice, they were talking in an ordinary way, nothing loud or anything to attract attention—the last time I went out of the front kitchen I went into the back kitchen to fetch a pan to get some hot water to wash up, and I had scarcely got to the table when I heard a loud report; I turned momentarily round to go to see what it was, and I met the prisoner in the doorway of the back kitchen, he was coming towards me; that was not his way out, he was coming into the back kitchen—I said to him "What's that"—he said "I don't knew"—the words were scarcely uttered when be fired again; I saw the flash and heard the report, it was like a hot, heavy blow, it struck me in the ear, and I felt the blood trickling down my neck—I reeled round, but I did not fall—I saw the prisoner go along the passage to the area door—I don't know whether he had his hat on—I went after him and caught him by the coat
at the area door; I opened my mouth to cry murder, and he put his hand in my mouth so that I could not speak, and with the other hand he took me by the neck and threw me down outside the area door, and he beat my head on the pavement stones; he did that several times—I struggled hard for life as he knelt upon me, and I got one of my hands loose—he still held me—as he was leaning over me I took him by his shirt-front, or something, I don't know what—I then found that I was regaining my feet—I tried to get up—he loosed me and went up the area steps rather quickly, at least it seemed quick to me—I put my other hand to the floor to try to get up, and I did get up, and I put my hand in a pool of "blood—I went up the area steps to try and catch him—I went a few steps on the pavement, and begged of the passers by to send for a doctor, and a policeman to take him, as he had murdered my husband and had shot me—I then turned back and went into the front kitchen—I could not tell you justly the time between my hearing the first shot and the time he ran up the area steps; it was not long, it seemed long to me, but it could not be many minutes—when I went into the front kitchen I said "What has he done? what has he done? has he shot you?"—my husband was lying down on the kitchen floor on the oilcloth—I knelt over him and begged of him to speak to me, but he was gone; he did not speak; I felt he was dead—the only sign of life I saw was just a slight quivering of the lip, and my only hope on earth was gone—there was no one living in the house with my husband and myself but a very aged lady, who was in bed at the time in the back drawing-room—we had a gentleman lodger, but he did not come home till late, after 6 o'clock in the evening—there was no one else in the" house at the time—I have no children—Mrs. Stephens is Mr. Collins' sister; her husband is a ladder-maker—my husband did not do anything in business lately, he was formerly a builder, he only did little odd things for himself in his own houses; he would have men to look after the houses, and he superintended; he had some house property—sometimes his nephew collected the rents from those houses, and sometimes himself—as a rule we kept the money upstairs—when there was any large quantity (it was seldom there was any large amount in the house) it was kept upstairs in the room we slept in—there has been some hundreds sometimes, there was at one time; Mr. Collins bought two houses in Winchester Street, and he paid it all away, the last large amount we had I think that was more than a year ago—he wore a belt to strengthen his back, he was very weak in his back, he made use of it when he went into Cornwall to take some money with him, and I put a little brown-holland pocket in it to carry his money in—he never used that afterwards for the same purpose only when he went there, to save me the trouble of sending money to him.
Cross-examined. The first time I saw the prisoner was when he was with" my niece Carry in the Harrow Road—I think the Treadaways kept a shop at the corner of Paddington Green, but it was not there I saw him, it was near the Edgware Road-; he came out of a cigar shop or paper shop—I think Mr. Treadaway had a shop very near to Mr. Stephens—I don't know much about that place, I never go only when I go to Mrs. Stephens'—I saw the prisoner twice at Mrs. Stephens' house—I could not tell justly the time when he came for the hamper, it was somewhere about October; he drove down in Mr. Stephens' pony and trap—he tied up the hamper for me—there was some brandy and wine offered him, I think be took some wine, but I could not be positive, and a piece of cake; I think
he was there about half an hour—on Thursday, 14th December, I left home bout 4 o'clock, leaving the prisoner alone with Mr. Collins; before I left I had gone several times into the room an I sat there while they were talking—I did not pay the least attention to what they were saying—the prisoner never asked me to lend him any money—I never heard him ask my husband to lend him money—on the Friday when he came in and said that he was very tired I did not observe that he looked very tired; I thought if he was tired a doze would do him good—after dinner 1 was in and out several times before I went with the pan—it was when I was taking something in or fetching something away that I saw the fiddle—at one time I fancy he was standing with his hat in his hand, as though he was going; Mr. Collins was not standing up too at that time, he was sitting—I could not swear whether the prisoner was sitting or standing the last time I was in the room—I never heard any high words or noticed any angry looks either about Mr. Collins or the prisoner, or any loud talking—I had just left the room to fetch a pan to take into the front kitchen to draw-some hot water—I had just got into the back kitchen when I heard the noise.
HARRIET GIBBONS . I am the wife of John Gibbons, of-Westmoreland Street, Pimlico—on Friday, 15th December, about 3.15, or from that to 3.30, I was in Stanley Street, Pimlico, walking along on the opposite side to Mr. Collins' house—I heard a cry of "Oh, oh;" I saw nothing; it was a female voice in distress—I then heard another cry of distress a little louder and then I saw Mrs. Collins partly up the area steps, the head and shoulders; she was the first I saw; there was no one else there at that moment; she ried "Stop him! Stop him!"—at that time I was crossing the road towards the house, and as I was looking a young man opened the door and came out of the street door—by that time Mrs. Collins was at the top of the area steps—the young man came out of Mr. Collins' street door, the front door with steps to it; he opened the door and came out and left the door open after him—the area gate is at the further end of the area—at the time I saw them there was the length of the area between them—a female came up and Mrs. Collins was speaking to her as she came past, and I came over sideways and met him, I was about 2 feet from him—I recognised him when I was at the police-court, I had never seen him before; that is the young man (the prisoner); he went down Sussex Street, turned the corner into Sussex Street, and passed into Cambridge Street, he was running very swiftly; he had a soft crowned hat on and he had his right hand to it, his left hand was under his coat—when he ran J saw something bright in his left hand when the flap of of his coat was blown aside by the wind—I saw his face as he was coming out; I have not the least doubt" that the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I think there are two steps from the front door to the street—I was on the opposite side of the way when I first heard the cry of "Oh;" it is a very wide street—I saw Mrs. Collins before I saw the young-man, she was coming up to the area gate; I could not say whether the area gate was closed or open—there was no one holding Mrs. Collins then; she was bleeding from the nostrils, and it quite alarmed me—she called out "Stop him," and there was no one to stop, and then I saw the young man come out of the street door, run down the steps and run away—I don't a suppose it was more than a minute or two taking place; I called to a cabman—Mrs. Collins went to the corner of Sussex Street, calling out.
Castle Street, Kentish Town, I have known the prisoner about five or sir months—he has been in the habit of frequently coming to my house—on Thursday morning, 14th December, he came there about 11 o'clock, he had a carpet bag with him—he said he had had a fall out with his father, and he was not going home again—he said he was owed money at Bayswater,' and he was going to try to get it—he did not say how or why he had fallen out with his father, or how the money at Bayswater had become due to him; he said nothing more, he left the carpet-bag at my house and went away, he asked me to let it remain until he returned, he said he was going to Bayswater to get this money that was owed him—he returned about 9 o'clock that evening, my husband was then at home—I asked him how he had got on to-day—he said very badly—I asked what he was going to do; he said he did know, he was sure—I said I had no place for him unless he laid on the couch all night—he said "Thank you"—I said-"You will have to get up in the morning when my husband goes to work"—he said "All right"—he stayed all night, and slept on the couch—my husband leaves about 5 o'clock in the morning, I got him some breakfast and the prisoner had a cup of tea with, him, and they both left soon after 5 o'clock, he still left the carpet-bag with me—he did not say whether he was coming back or not, or where he was going to—he returned about 4.30 or 4.45 that Friday afternoon, the 15th, he came with a loud knock, I answered it—I asked him what brought him "back so soon—I did not expect him before my husband came home—he followed me in, and sat down on the couch; it was dark—he said it had been a nasty day, and he had got a bad cold—he had a bad cold; he could not speak, he was so hoarse—it was a very dull, dark, heavy day—I asked him how he had been getting on—he replied "Worse than ever," and I said "That is the fruits of lending money"—he asked me for some water to wash his face and hands to refresh himself—I said "You are not in a hurry, are you?"—he said "Not particular"—I showed him into the bed-room—he washed his hands, and came back to the sitting-room, and sat in the arm-chair—some friends of mine came in, and there they sat till my husband came in, about 6.30—there was no particular conversation—I asked him where he got his bad cold, and he said he did not know—it was ordinary conversation about our own affairs—we were going to have a little stout-and-mild after my husband came home, and the prisoner said he had no money—I suppose he thought he must pay for something—my friends left about 9.30—the prisoner remained there till bed time; about 10 o'clock he asked if I would allow him to lie on the couch for another night—I said "Yes," and he stayed all night—in the morning he was still suffering very much from his cold, he could hardly speak—I did not like to turn him out again so soon—I had pity on him because he had such a cold—he went into the bed-room to wash; he was in there some time—my scissors were lying on the drawers, and he took them up and cut his whiskers off—I asked him what he was cutting his whiskers for; he said to make him look younger—I said "Have you been doing anything?"—he said "Never mind, you will know in time; you take my carpet bag to my mother's"—I said "Take it yourself"—he said "I am." not going home any more," and he wished me good-bye, and went away a little before 10 o'clock—he left the bag with me—I did not know what to do with it; I took it to his father's—I did not examine what was in it, or whether it was locked or unlocked; it was not heavy—that was the last I
saw of him—I heard of Mr. Collins' death about 3 o'clock on Saturday afternoon; my husband read it to me.
Cross-examined. I made the prisoner's acquaintance at the house of Mrs. Stephens, at Paddington—he was then in the company of Mrs. Stephens and Carry Stephens, to whom he was engaged to be married—I knew that—I asked him to tea, and he and Miss Stephens came and took tea with us on some occasions—I saw a good deal of the prisoner for about six months; since the Bank Holiday, in August; I knew that he was out of a situation then—when I first knew him he was of an amiable and cheerful disposition—he was out of a situation when I first knew him, and I think he continued o—I don't think he had anything; I never knew him in any employment—I knew that his friends were very well to do—he told me that his father had nine children, some of them younger than himself; he always spoke very much about his mother—during the time I knew him he was amiable, good tempered, and agreeable; as nice a young man as I ever saw; I never heard a rude word from him—he called Mrs. Stephens "Mother," Miss Stephens called him Fred, and he called her Carry—he always spoke very highly of the Stephens—he was most affectionate in his manner—it was on the Thursday when he first came with the carpet bag that he told me he was not going home again; he had a fall out with his father—when he came on the Friday, he had got such a cold and he could' not get any money; I thought his low spirits arose from that—the incident about sending out for the ale was in the presence of some friends; he said he had no money, as an excuse for not offering to pay—it was after our friends had gone that I had the conversation about what he was going to do; that was on the Thursday—he said both then and on the Friday that he was not going home any more—he said he had been consulting about a situation at the Kensington "Museum—he said several times that he had been trying to get a situation, and that he was trying to pass an examination or the Kensington Museum. Cross-examined. I made the prisoner's acquaintance at the house of Mrs. Stephens, at Paddington—he was then in the company of Mrs. Stephens and Carry Stephens, to whom he was engaged to be married—I knew that—I asked him to tea, and he and Miss Stephens came and took tea with us on some occasions—I saw a good deal of the prisoner for about six months; since the Bank Holiday, in August; I knew that he was out of a situation then—when I first knew him he was of an amiable and cheerful disposition—he was out of a situation when I first knew him, and I think he continued o—I don't think he had anything; I never knew him in any employment—I knew that his friends were very well to do—he told me that his father had nine children, some of them younger than himself; he always spoke very much about his mother—during the time I knew him he was amiable, good tempered, and agreeable; as nice a young man as I ever saw; I never heard a rude word from him—he called Mrs. Stephens "Mother," Miss Stephens called him Fred, and he called her Carry—he always spoke very highly of the Stephens—he was most affectionate in his manner—it was on the Thursday when he first came with the carpet bag that he told me he was not going home again; he had a fall out with his father—when he came on the Friday, he had got such a cold and he could' not get any money; I thought his low spirits arose from that—the incident about sending out for the ale was in the presence of some friends; he said he had no money, as an excuse for not offering to pay—it was after our friends had gone that I had the conversation about what he was going to do; that was on the Thursday—he said both then and on the Friday that he was not going home any more—he said he had been consulting about a situation at the Kensington "Museum—he said several times that he had been trying to get a situation, and that he was trying to pass an examination or the Kensington Museum.
Re-examined. On the Friday evening, he joined in the conversation in the ordinary way—he did not seem so cheerful, because he had such a cold—he was so hoarse; he was a little depressed.
THOMAS WARD (Policeman T 431). On Saturday, 16th December from instructions, I was in the neighbourhood of Isleworth—about 6.301 went to the house of "Wiggins, in Water Lane—it is a private house—Mrs. Wiggins and her son were there—I stayed there in company with Mrs. "Wiggins in the front kitchen, and about 7.40, the prisoner knocked at the door—Mrs. Wiggins answered it, and said "Oh, Fred, is that you?"—he replied "Yes," walking in at the time—he came into the room where I was—I was in plain clothes—he asked if John (meaning Mr. Wiggins) was still working at Twickenham—Mrs. Wiggins replied "Yes"—he took a chair and sat down, and commenced to fill his pipe with tobacco—I then stepped across the room to him, and told him that I was a police officer, and that I must take him into custody—he said "What for?"—I said "I will explain the charge-to you when we arrive at the station"—he said "Very well, I will go with you"—I then said "Have you any weapon about you?"—he made no answer—I felt his pockets, but did not make a good search of him there; I did not find anything then—I took him to the station, and there searched him carefully, and found this, six-chambered revolver (producing it), it was hanging to his braces on the right side, inside his trousers, with the braces run through the ring; • it was not loaded, it was quite empty—I
found various other articles upon him, among them a pair of spectacles, but no money whatever—he was handed over to the charge of inspector Foignett, about 1 o'clock in the morning—he made a statement to Sergeant Edbrook in my presence, but I did not catch the proper expressions he made use of—it was written down.
Cross-examined. When he took a chair and sat down in the kitchen, he could see me quite plainly—I have been on duty in that neighbourhood about two years and nine months—I knew him very well, and I believe he knew me—when Mrs. Wiggins opened the door to him, his first words were "Good evening, Mrs. Wiggins"—she said "Oh, Fared, is that you"—and he said "Yes," stepping into the house—he took a chair immediately, and began to fill his pipe—I was in front of him at that time—he could see me—he did not speak to me; he took no notice of me—I had seen him frequently at a public-house that the Wiggins' formerly kept. •
GEORGE EDBROOK (Police Sergeant T 9). I went to the Isleworth police-station on Saturday evening, 16th, about 8.15, on receiving information that the prisoner was in custody—I took the charge—he was charged with the wilful murder of John Collins—I read the charge over to him—he made no reply whatever—on the way way to the cell he asked me if I would allow him to have one of his handkerchiefs (they had been taken away from him previously)—I said "No, I cannot allow you to have it"—he said "What nonsense, had I contemplated suicide I could easily have accomplished it, being armed; what I have done was in a moment of madness;" he spoke it in a very low voice—at about 12.30 at night he was handed over to Inspectors Foignett and Sayer, after the additional charge was taken against him.
THOMAS FOIGNETT (Chief Inspector B). In the course of Friday, 15th December, I received a communication at our station, in consequence of which instructions were given to watch various parts of the metropolis—on Saturday night, 16th December, shortly after 12 o'clock, I arrived at the Isleworth police-station, in company with Sayer—I found that the prisoner had been only charged with the murder of Mr. Collins, and I caused him to be charged with the attempted murder of Mrs. Collins.; when the charge was entered on the sheet, he was brought in from the cell, and I told him that he would be so charged—at first he made no response; he seemed partially stupefied, as if he did not hear what I had said to him, and I said "Did you hear me, do you understand what I am saying to you?"—I then repeated the substance of the additional charge to him, to which he replied "I don't know how I came to do it; it seems a blank to me"—a four-wheeled cab was obtained, and he was put into it, and we brought him to London—on the way from Isleworth we passed through a dirty lane; I mentioned it to Sayers, and the prisoner said "Oh, yes; I know that place; I came through that lane on my way to see Mrs. Wiggins; I know this part part very well; I know my way about here very well"—in the course of our journey to London, I asked him where he got the revolver, adding that his father had told me that he never saw such a thing in his possession—he said "I bought it on Thursday morning, shortly after leaving home, at a pawnbroker's shop in the Seven Sisters' Road; I intended to use it;" I am not positive whether he said "for," or "on myself; things were very miserable at home, and I could obtain no employment"—he said "After the affair, I went towards Hyde Park, and so across the Regent's Park, and then to Kentish Town; I had been out all the previous night, at least,
from 5 o'clock in the morning; I felt tired"—he then spoke of the following morning, Saturday morning, and said "When I left Kentish Town, I did not know where I was going, or what I was doing; I only had 2d., with a penny of which I bought a newspaper, to read about the affair; it was all wrong. I did not take a cab, or go to Victoria for the purpose of going to Dover; I had no money; with the other penny I bought 1d. worth of returns—when I went out that morning, I went through Finchley and Barnet, towards St. Albans, and finding at what place I was, I retraced my steps towards London, thinking I should like to see Mrs. Wiggins once more, and I did not want to be apprehended in London; on reaching Kentish Town, I found a pair of spectacles, which I put on and wore through Kensington and Hammersmith"—that was all that took place in the cab—on reaching the station, he was placed in a cell with a man in care of him—on the Sunday evening, he asked me for pens, ink, and paper to write a letter—I told him he could have them, but that I should read • what he wrote before sending it away—he said "I only want to write to Mrs. Milton to explain to her why I cut off my whiskers at her house as that seemed to surprise her"—I said "You had better not write the letter if you wish to see Mrs. Milton, or any other friend, I will send for them for you"—no letter was written, nor did they come.
Cross-examined. His father came there on the Sunday; I sent for him—the prisoner said to his father "I can't tell how I came to do it; I must must have been mad at the time; I don't think I did do it"—I first saw him at the Isleworth police-station on the Saturday—I was in plain clothes, he no doubt knew who I was; when I told him he would also be charged with the attempt to murder Mrs. Collins, he appeared partially stupefied—he seemed to pay no attention to what was said—he said "It seems a blank to me"—I had seen his father twice before that—at the time I asked him about the revolver, it had been taken from him; the chambers were unloaded—he gave the name and address of Mrs. Milton; he said he had been out from 5 o'clock in the morning, up to which time he had been stopping with a friend named Milton, in the Castle Road—on the way to the station at Rochester Row, he said several times "I don't know how I came to do it; I must have been mad"—I have been frequently to Mr. Collins house, in Stanley Street—there is a staircase leading up to the front door from the kitchen—the back kitchen door is level, with the foot of the staircase; a person would have to pass the back kitchen door to go up the staircase and out of the front door—I tested in every way, by examination of the premises, whether any theft had been attempted, and I am satisfied that none had taken place or been attempted—the keys were not found in the deceased's pocket, there was a bag with—a sovereign and two sixpences loose in his pocket; the keys were in Mrs. Collins' possession—the cupboards were locked or closed—no attempt was made on anything, as far as I could judge—his statement about never having been in a cab and going to Victoria Station, was in denial of some remarks to that effect in the newspapers—on these occasions there are all sorts of rumours appearing in the papers—the theory of theft being the object had been ventilated; I took no part in suggesting that—when he was in the dock at the police-court, and Mrs. Collins appeared, he fainted twice, once in view of Mrs. Collins and once afterwards—I could assign no cause for it.
Milton said to me I went to Eastwood Terrace, Hornsey Road, the residence of the prisoner's father—I there saw Mrs. Treadaway, the prisoner's mother, and took possession of a bag she handed to me—I produce it; it contained a flannel shirt, two shirts, a scarf, a hair-brush, a collar, and a pocker-handkerchief, and some torn newspaper.
WILLIAM LAWRENCE . I am assistant to my father, a pawnbroker, of 27, Seven Sisters' Road—this revolver was purchased at our shop on Thursday, 14th December, somewhere about 10 o'clock in the morning, for 12s. 6d.—it was paid for by the person who bought it, and he took it away—I think the 12s. 6d. was paid entirely in silver.
GEORGE STERMAN . I am a gunmaker in Seven Sisters' Road—on Thursday morning, 14th December, between 10 and 12 o'clock, the prisoner came to my place with this revolver and asked for some cartridges—I tried some that I had in stock, but they would not do, the revolver would not go round—I told him that the chambers would not work round, it would not act—he said he must have it to act, to rotate, as he was going in the country to sell it, and unless it acted they would not buy it—he asked whether I could make it rotate—I said "Yes;" that it would take about an hour to do so—he remained in the shop for the hour while it was being done—about 12 o'clock I had finished it so that the chambers would go round—I did not make other cartridges, I altered the pistol so as to make it fit the cartridges—he had eight or nine cartridges, they came to 6d., and the alteration of the pistol was 1s. 6d.; he paid 2s. altogether—I was afterwards shown a bullet by Dr. Falwell, it was the same kind of bullet that was in those cartridges—the cartridges are millemetres, I produce one of the same kind—the bullet—shown to me by Dr. Falwell appears to have been blunted at the end, as if fired against something.
Cross-examined. I put in the cartridges myself to try the barrel, and found it did not rotate—I took some of them out again; whether it was quite full when he had them I don't know, but he said "Don't take them out, I want them to show that it acts"—that was after I had made it rotate—the pistol was wrong; it is a Belgian made article, and of course it is a French measurement, and the cartridges are made in England, and although they may measure them to a very great nicety they are often wrong, and we alter them to suit the-English measurement—I did not discover that until I had put in the cartridges.
MARY ANN STEPHENS . I am the wife of Robert Stephens, a ladder manufacturer, of 18, Green Street, Paddington Green—he has several persons in his employ—I am sister to the late Mr. Collins—I have four daughters, two of them are named Carry and Selina—Carry is my second daughter—I have known the—prisoner I should think from ten to twelve years, we were neighbours—his father had a shop opposite us in the hosiery line—I should think the prisoner is about from twenty to twenty—one years of age from what I have heard—I think he was in employ last year—I think he had been out of employ a little time prior to Mr. Collins' death—he and my daughter Carry have gone out together for about four years—he was in the habit of visiting at my house—on one occasion of visiting at 99, Stanley Street, I saw my brother unlock a cupboard in the front kitchen, and take out a box with money in it—he opened it in my presence; I asked what he had there, and he said money—he did not keep it on the table
many minutes, he then put it back—he did not take anything out of it in my presence—I saw some money in it—he did not count anything out, and I did not notice whether he put anything in—it was a wooden box—a few days after that I had a friend to tea; the prisoner was in the room, I don't think he could hear what was said—he made no reply, so I think so; it is a large room—he was addressing his conversation to my sons who were there; he was not at the table—I can't say that he could or could not hear—a short time after that I remember asking the prisoner to go and fetch a hamper for me from Mr. Collins'—that was about October—he took my husband's horse and cart and fetched the hamper; I think that was the first time that he saw my brother—on coming back he said how very much my brother was like me, and he should like to have his stocking and mine—I said my stocking would be a very poor one, I had no doubt my brother's would be better—that was a joke about money—he said that he had had a glass of wine and a piece of cake there—prior to Friday, 15th December, I don't think I had seen the prisoner for about six weeks; I think he had called at our place of business during that time, but he had not been to my house, I had not Been him.
Cross-examined. The lady I was talking to at my house twelve months ago was a Mrs. Richards from Cornwall—I never read the papers about this affair—I have told all that happened about the stocking as far as I recollect; there was nothing to make me remember it—it was nothing more than a casual observation—I can't say for certain whether my daughter Selina was present—the prisoner's father had a shop opposite to us for many years—we have been twelve years at the Harrow Road, and Mr. Treadaway was there before—during all the time I have known the prisoner he has been an amiable and well-conducted young man, generally of a very cheerful disposition; he is something of a musician—I think he and my daughter Carry were attached to each other for a long time—I heard that he was very much depressed because he was not able to make her a present on her birthday; I was not upstairs much with them—I had not seen him for quite six weeks before this—that was an unusual time for him to be away, he used to come to my place every day with my son, the younger children used to call him Brother Fred, merely as a joke, and sometimes he would call me Mother in a joking way—I know that from August he was making every effort to get a situation—I don't think he had been away from London during that time—I never heard that there was any difference between him and my daughter—from what I heard I think he was very much disappointed at not getting a situation, and that he was trying to fit himself for examination for the Civil Service; for he called on me at my place one evening after taking his lessons—he has come in with my sons, and if we have been having a meal he has taken a meal with us.
SELINA STEPHENS . I am a daughter of the last witness—my sister was engaged to be married to the prisoner—the last time I saw him, before 15th December, was on 10th November, the day after my sister's birthday—he was at our house—I did not' write a letter to him about 14th December—there was no communication of the sort—I did not make any appointment verbally to meet him at Mr. Collins'—while my uncle was in Cornwall last summer I was stopping over there, and I wrote inviting the prisoner and my sister to tea—my sister came, but he did not—I was stopping with my aunt there—I made no appointment to meet him there in December.
Cross-examined. He was out of a situation in November, and I believe
he was studying for the purpose of passing an examination—he complained of headache on that day—I did not walk with him that evening—he was sitting in a chair downstairs in our house when he complained of his head—I do not know whether my sister Carry was there—I don't think she was—he was living opposite us with his father for some years—about nine months ago the whole family moved to Hornsey Road—my sister was in the habit of seeing him every Sunday evening when he was in a situation—they were on most affectionate terms—he was very much vexed at not being able to make her a present on her birthday—I saw him frequently between September and November; he appeared dreadfully depressed during thoso months—I never heard him say that he might as well shoot himself—I did not see him at King's Cross at anytime—I have a. brother at King's Cross—my sister Carry went there.
Re-examined. On those occasions when he has been depressed I did not hear him complain that he could not get work—I know he was out of employ—I never heard him mention anything about his being unable to get work preventing his getting married—I never heard anything said as to when he was to marry my sister—he did not say anything about there being so large a family at home that it was necessary for him to work—he did not speak to me at any time about the number at home.
JOHN WIGGINS . I am a florist, of Isleworth—I formerly kept 1/4 an, inn called the Royal Oak, and while I was there I knew the prisoner, he was in the habit of coming to the house—after I left the house I went to my present residence at Isleworth, and while there I received a letter from the prisoner; I should think it was something like three months ago, I cannot tell to a week; I burnt that letter, it was signed in his name—he wanted to borrow 10l. of me; he did not say anything about paying it back; I did not reply to that letter—I received another from him about a month after that, asking me to lend him the 10l.; I did not reply to that letter—he said that he wanted to borrow the money and he would pay me in February when he came of age, nothing was said about security on that occasion—he came to my place at Isleworth perhaps a fortnight after I had received that letter. (The Prisoner was here taken ill and was removed from the dock and attended by Mr. Gibson and another surgeon.)
JOHN ROWLANA GIBSON . I am surgeon, of Newgate—I have seen the prisoner since be has been taken from the dock; I do not think it would be safe to him that the trial should proceed to-day; he has had a fit, what would seem to be more of an hysterical character than epileptic, but rather of an indefinite nature—he is clearly insensible-for the time being, and I do not think he will be likely sufficiently to recover to-day to enable him to go on with the trial; in all probability he will be fit in the morning—he has been under my care since January 15th—I have not seen any symptoms of this kind before—Adjourned.
Thursday, February 8th, 1877.
JOHN WIGGINS (continued). I cannot exactly say how long it was after the receipt of the second letter that I saw the prisoner, perhaps it was three or four weeks—he came to my business at Twickenham and asked me if I could lend him the money—I told him that I was short of money at that time of the year, or I should have been pleased to have done so—he wanted to know if there were no means of getting the money and whether I could get a bill of sale on my furniture until February, as he would come into 25l. then, when he came of age—I told him I could not do such a thing as that
—he said that he was sorry I could not do it, as he was in such a fix—ha wished me "Good morning," and said that he should walk back to Highgate or Hornsey, that is where his father lived—I did not see any more of him after that before 15th December—I had a letter from him which I burnt; he wrote asking me for a sovereign; he said he had got all the money fie wanted except the 1l., and said "Send it not later than Friday morning for God's sake. Yours truly, Fred," it was to be delivered to him on Friday morning by the first post; that was the Friday of the murder, the 15th—I was out at the time and had not an opportunity of sending him a sovereign—I do not remember the date at which the letter came, but I am sure it was on the Thursday, the day before the murder—his address was on the letter, it was his father's address, I think—I did not send him any money at all.
Cross-examined. The Royal Oak at Isleworth'is a house frequented by people who are fond of fishing—the prisoner came there occasionally for the purpose of staying a night, fishing, and going away again; perhaps, once in a month or six weeks—he came several times during the time I was there, which was two years and ten months—I always found him a kind, agreeable man—I told him that if on any future occasion it lay in my power to help him I should be proud to do so; we all of us had a great esteem for him—I am pretty sure the last letter I received was the day previous to the murder, because I should have sent the sovereign if I had been at home, and on the Friday night, at 12 o'clock, the police came and knocked me up; at all events it was not more than two days before, I took particular notice of it—he was taken at my house on the Saturday.
LEVI PETTIT (Policeman, BR 30.) On Friday, 15th December, about 3.30, I was called to 99, Stanley Street—I went down the area steps and found some blood, a round circle in the area, outside the area door; about a foot or 18 inches from the area door—there was about a small teacup full—I saw a finger mark on the wall outside the area door—I went into the house then and found Mrs. Collins and another woman, Dr. Falwell and the deceased—he was dead at that time and was lying under the area window—Mrs. Collins met me as I entered the kitchen and put up her hand to her ear and said "Have you got him?"—she was bleeding from behind the left ear.'
Cross-examined. The finger mark on the wall was outside the house leading to the area steps—I did not hear that Mrs. Collins had put her hand against the wall—that was the only mark I saw—there was only one pool of Hood in the area.
WILLIAM FALWELL . I am a physician and surgeon, and live at 55, Gloucester Street, Pimlico—on 15th December, about 3.25 in the afternoon, I was called to 99, Stanley Street—I knew the family—the area door was open—I saw a pool of blood on the steps downstairs, so I went down the area steps and into the front kitchen—I there saw the deceased John Collins lying on his back, dead—Mrs. Collins was kneeling by his side—I first took notice of Mr. Collins—there was a small wound on the outside of the left eyebrow, about half an inch in length, and six or seven small spots of blood on the front of the shirt—the wound was on the external angle of the left eyebrow—my opinion at that moment was, hearing that he had been shot, that the bullet had entered there—I made do further examination of him at that time, with this exception, that I undid his dress and unbuckled the belt that was round the waist; it was a broad belt, partly elastic and
partly leather, used for supporting the body—I handed that to the policeman, and I think he said there was a pocket to it, but I did not see it myself—I then turned my attention to Mrs. Collins; she was bleeding fast from the left ear, in great pain and distress; I got her seated and endeavoured to stop the hemoarrhage—there was not any visible wound at that time, the hemoarrhage prevented my seeing it—there was also a little blood at the back of the throat and in the mouth—there were finger marks in front of the neck as if from attempted strangulation, and there were two or three places where the skin was taken off as if by the nail of a hand—he head was very much bruised, and there was a swelling beginning to appear under the left ear; before I left, in fact, it became a large lump—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination of the body of Mr. Collins, on 18th December—I found that the wound outside the left eyebrow was not a penetrating wound, and in all probability had been caused by a fall; there was a large chest of drawers on one side of the body and a table on the other—there was a small wound on the left side of the upper part of the neck behind the sternum mascoid muscle, which, on dissection, I found went inwards and backwarks a little to the spine—a bullet had penetrated the first and second vertebrae of the spinal column, fracturing those bones; that was where the bullet had entered—it had penetrated the spinal column wounding the medulla oblangatae, and so causing instant death—I extracated that bullet and produce it—there were no other marks of violence on the body—subsequently, on 9th January, I made another examination of Mr. Collins, which resulted in an operation, and' I extracted a bullet from under the scalp at the back of the head; I—produce that bullet; it is very much battered and grooved, and there is a small portion of the-bone of the head still remaining in the bullet—it had taken off just the edge of the trachis of the ear and then passed under the scalp, travelling about 4 inches—Dr. Oates was present at that operation and also at the post-mortem.
Cross-examined. When I first attended to Mrs. Collins I succeeded in stopping the hemoarrhage by plugging the ear with cotton-wool and olive oil—the swelling under the ear was not from the bullet—the swelling at the back of the head and neck from blows had very considerably subsided before I extracted the bullet—until 19th December, when I removed the dressing, I thought there was no bullet there at all—I do not think that Mrs. Collins is at all a nervous, emotional person; the description a person gives after receiving a shot is not at all times trustworthy.
Re-examined. I think Mrs. Collins is a very calm, dispassionate woman—from what I know of her I should not say that the description given by her was at all untrustworthy.
SQUIBS WHITE (Detective Sergeant B, examined by MR. BESLEY). I got to 99, Stanley Street just after the doctor—I looked to see if there was any disturbance of the room other than might be caused by the fall of the deceased; there was none—the places appeared to be in their usual condition, those that were unlocked were left so, and those that were locked were not tampered with at all—I did not see the doctor unbuckle the belt; I believe that had been done before I came; I did not receive the belt from him.
in the pony-cart to go to Cornwall—I do not remember any conversation in which the word "stocking "was referred to by my mother—I was there.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence.
SARAH VIVIAN . My maiden name was Treadaway—I am a sister of George Treadaway, the grandfather of the prisoner—I remember my father and mother very well; they lived at Ickenham, near Uxbridge—my mother died when she was fifty-five years of age; her brain was paralysed for three years before her death—I was not living with her at the time, but I was down there occasionally—she came up to stay with me sometimes in London, and I was up and down; she was quite childish—my father died • about twenty-five years ago—he was eighty-two when he died—I knew all the members of my mother's family—my mother's name originally was Weedon; there was a large family, but she had two brothers and a sister that were deranged, one of the brothers was-named Charles and the other Samuel, and the sister, Lucy; she married a Mr. Stilwell—she had two daughters, one named Mary, who died in an asylum at Han well, I think it was—I think she was about fifty, or between fifty and sixty, when she died—I think she had been deranged some time, but she had not been in the asylum more than twelve or fifteen months—Samuel Weedon, my mother's brother, was imbecile for two years before he died, and he twice attempted to drown himself; he was between sixty and seventy when he died—Charles Weedon was in a lunatic asylum at St. Luke's for three or four years, and afterwards had a keeper till he died—he always had someone with him—he had three different keepers after he came out of the asylum; two of them are dead—he always had a person with him in his room, but not exactly a keeper—I think he was nearly seventy when he died—I had a sister, Mary Treadaway, she married a Mr. Chabonel—she was about forty-five when she died—she was quite childish—I do not know how she was, but she was very strange—she did not at all know what she was doing—she was not in an asylum, she was at the Marquis of Exeter's park—I can't give you any more accurately what her state of mind was, any more than that she was quite imbecile; she did not know what she was doing hardly—I think she had one or two fits, but I can not Say for certain—I had a brother named William Treadaway—he died in 1853 or 1856, I can't tell which—I fancy he was about fifty-four years of age—he destroyed his life—he hung himself—he was very depressed in his mind before that—he was very well off, but he thought he should be ruined—he had plenty of property, but he—fancied he should be ruined—the last time I saw him he was fretting very, much—there was nothing to cause him to be so, he had a very good wife, and children fond of him—he died at Ickenham—my brother, George Treadaway's wife, whose name originally was Susan Baugham, was the prisoner's grandmother—she died twenty-six or twenty-seven years since, about two years before the prisoner was born—I think she was about sixty when she died, fifty-seven or so—she was quite insane, they were obliged to have a person always with her—ours is a very large family—my brother Henry died when he was eight years of age in a fit—I was not present when he died, I was living in London and they were at Ickenham-Susan Treadaway was the daughter of my brother George, and the prisoner's grandmother; she was subject to fits—she always had them till her death—she died about twenty-three years ago—she was in a fit when she died—I was present when she died—she had been subject to fits all her life from the time she had a fall when she was eight or nine years of age—she
fell in Paddington Churchyard in a fit, and after that she had a great many fits, two or three in a twelvemonth; she was never safe—she fell in the fire in one, and the next she had she was choked in—I think they were called epileptic fits, but I am not sure.
Cross-examined. She dropped in a fit in Paddington Churchyard; she did not injure herself much. (A certificate of a Commission in Lunacy on Charles Weedon was here put in, dated 30th November, 1865.)
GEORGE HERBERT . I was acting as keeper for a year and nine months to Mr. Charles Weedon, whose name is mentioned in this certificate—it was at the end of November, 1871, because I was with him all through the Prussian war—I slept in the same room with him—he was of unsound mind—he was not subject to any fits while I "was with him, nor was he a violent person.
ANN HENN . I live at 250, Lancaster Road, Notting Hill—I was in the service of Mr. Treadaway, the prisoner's grandfather, between twenty-three and twenty-four years ago—he "was then living in Newton Row, Westbourne Grove—I was a little over four years in his service as cook—Mrs. Treadaway, his first wife, was living there as well, also his son George and his daughter Susan—they were unmarried—Susan was subject to fits—I saw the fits very frequently—I slept with her—they used to last for some time; they occurred sometimes once or twice a week, and sometimes she would not have them quite so often—she had fits all the time I was there, and. Before I lived there—I don't know what kind of fits they were—she used to struggle very much, and she was quite black in the face when she was in them—she was very violent; it used to take me and her father to keep her down—she used to bite pieces out of the glasses—she was ill before the fit came on—she used to be very strange about the place—I could always tell because. I used to watch her; she would be so, perhaps, for a day, or perhaps only a few hours before the fit came on—she used to be very strange in her eyes, and in her manners; I could—tell from that when they were coming on—she complained of pains in—her head before they came on; she did not describe the pains at all, no more than that they were very shooting pains, darting—she did not complain of anything else in particular; the was very ill after the fits for days—she was not able to be about after a fit; a fit would last sometimes an hour and sometimes more, and afterwards she looked very haggard about the eyes, very worn, and very wild—she had a very wild look for days—she was not at all conscious during the fit—she used to foam very much at the mouth; I was not with her up to her death—the mother was a very great invalid; she was very curious in the head; she used to say all sorts of horrible things, and sometimes throw things at me; she used to swear at me sometimes—she has thrown a cruet-stand "at" me—she was never able to do anything, because she always had some one with her nearly—she was passionate—she could not manage the house at all; she would care for nothing of that—I knew the prisoner's father—his name is George.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was named after his father; his father was living at home some time after I was there—he was at boarding-school when I was first there—he is the son of the lady I have been speaking of—he was very delicate when he was a child—he suffered a good deal from his head—I never saw him in a fit, only fainting fits—I have seen him in several fainting fits—he was a very—weakly boy—Susan was very ill after the fits she had, and very much exhausted and prostrated, it used to
take several days for her to come round again; she had to be in bed—I or her aunt used to sleep with her—I cannot tell you the number of fits she had while I was in the service—she used to go out to parties, and I always had to fetch her—she used to be taken there frequently—she was never safe to go about herself—I noticed a strange appearance about her before the fit came on, sometimes for a day, sometimes for hours—it was always some hours before that I noticed the peculiarity about her eyes, and the strange expression on her face.
GEORGE FREDERICK TREDAWAY . I live at 2, Eastwood Terrace, Hornsey Road, and carry on business there as an outfitter—the prisoner is my son—he was twenty—one this month—he was brought up in the country until the age of seven, on account of his health, at Isllingdon—he afterwards lived with me in the Harrow Road, Paddington—he went to the Philological School until he was fifteen years of age, and then he was in my shop with me for a year or two to learn business habits—he was for two or three years in several situations down to August, 1876—he used to come home occasionally; up to the time of his going into those situations he was very kind and good-natured—on a Saturday, I think in July or August, he came home from his situation to stay till the Monday, and on the Sunday morning I was out walking with him in the Holloway Road close to the Liverpool Road, we were on the left hand side of the way approaching the Liverpool Road, when I felt him stagger against me—I said "What is the matter, Fred, don't you feel well?" he mumbled something indistinctly, I could not understand what it was, but I noticed that his eyes appeared as if the sight was going; he then fainted; he lost his muscular power—he did not fall to the ground, only up against me—I dragged him into a doorway, and rubbed his back and opened his hands and rubbed them, and kept speaking to him, but he was not conscious—I took his hat off—he seemed to be quite unconscious of what I was doing, he could not speak to me—this lasted altogether, I think, as near as possible twenty minutes—he trembled very much, and shook violently and turned deadly pale, and then afterwards seemed gradually to recover—the first words he said to me were "I am burning in the throat, do get me something to drink"—I could not get anything to drink, but I got two oranges, which were the nearest things I could get, and he sucked the juice of the two oranges, and it seemed to make him much better; he gradually recovered—this happened about a mile from home—I walked home with him—we stopped once under the railway bridge for a few minutes—he was very weak, and he complained of, his head burning very much—he managed to walk home all right—he had slept at my house the night before—when we got home he complained of feeling very bad in his head, and he laid down on the sofa some time, and stopped in all the afternoon—I think he was asleep all the afternoon on the sofa, I know he was upstairs—when we started on our walk he appeared to be quite well; I did not notice anything unusual—once when we were living at 28, Harrow Road, he was sent to a chemist's, and he came home with his face cut and said that he had had a fit in Doctor Watts' shop—that must have been in the year 1873—there was a mark on his face, a graze, not a cut—he did not make any complaint particularly to me, he did to his mother—I did not attend to him then—he complained of his head all that day afterwards—he left his last situation in September, 1876, or the last week in August—during the last months that he was there he complained—frequently of his head aching very much, and he frequently
enquired whether he should take any medicine—I to him "No," I did not think it necessary to take any medicine—he thought he was suffering from biliousness—he always complained of his head—I did not observe his complaints at first so much as I did the latter few weeks when he was at home—he complained more frequently at the latter part, I mean previous to December—he complained of his head feeling queer—those were the words he used to make use of," My head is so queer, I think I ought to take some medicine"—when we were at the Harrow Road I know that he used to wet his bed—that used to be between 1873 and 1874—that occurred five or six times—during the later period when he complained of feeling queer in his head he was very low-spirited, very much, depressed, sometimes he would not speak for an hour to me—I had no quarrel with him at all—he assisted me in the business two or three days before 14th December—on the Wednesday he wrote me a number of tickets for the window—he did not have any conversation with me before he went away on the Thursday—I know that he took away a carpet-bag with him—I do not remember his saying anything to me about going into a situation—my mother's maiden name was Susanna Baugham—she died in August, 1854, at the age of fifty-six or fifty-seven—she was always ill, she had been ill ever since I could remember—at times she was very bad indeed, she would stand at the window and say that people going by were making all sorts of game and fun at her, and she would throw things out of the window at them, and shake her fist at them, when there was no one doing anything of the kind—she was very passionate, at times fearfully so—she was guilty of acts of violence at various times and afterwards she was not conscious of her condition, she used to be so very kind afterwards—it was only on particular days that she would be like that—I had a sister who was only two years younger than me; her name was Susanna—I cannot exactly remember in what year she died—I think it was just previous to my mother—I think she was twenty-three when she died—I saw a good deal of her in her lifetime, more particularly on the Sundays, the last few years of her life—I used to attend church with her; she was dreadfully afflicted.
Cross-examined. During the whole of my son's life I had frequent opportunities of seeing him—there were only two occasions upon which he had a fit, the one when I was out with him on the Sunday, which was is August, 1875; it was not a hot day—I am not certain whether it was July or August—it was a wet day, it was raining after 12 o'clock—it was not particularly close; I do not remember it being close at all—we had walked from home, the top of the Hornsey Road—I have not been subject to fainting fits myself—I have fainted once or twice—I was at home on Friday morning, 14th December, when "my son left home—I did not see him go out of the door—I was not aware that he was on ill terms with his mother"—I did not give him any money before he went out—I gave him trifling sums while he was at home out of employ just for pocket-money—I was not aware that he was engaged to be married to Miss Stephens—he was very much more depressed during the later portion of the period of which I have been speaking than at the earlier—he complained of Being unsuccessful in getting employment a great number of times—I knew he and Miss Stephens were keeping company almost from childhood—they were in the habit of playing together—they knew each other from little children, but I did not know they were engaged—I never knew Mr. Collins, and "never heard the name mentioned—I did not know that my son had been there on
any occasion—I have heard him speak of the Wiggins several times when they lived at the Royal Oak—I did not know that he has been endeavouring to obtain loans from Mr. Wiggins.
CAROLINE TREADAWAY . I am the prisoner's mother—he is the eldest of nine children—my eldest daughter's name is Agnes Caroline—I remember her having brain fever, she was ill for about six months—she is not now a very nervous person—I remember the prisoner making a complaint to me in 1873 about Mr. Watts' shop—he came home and said that he had fainted away; that was the same occasion that my husband has spoken of—he complained of his head when he came home—he has always complained of headaches—he has constantly remarked to me that he was very miserable—on one occasion, about two or three weeks before he left his home, he said he thought the best thing he could do was to commit suicide—I was in the habit of giving him money when he required it.
Cross-examined. I gave him some money before he left home on the Thursday morning; he asked me for it, he said he could not go to a situation without money—he said that he was going to a situation; he told me that on the Thursday morning, and gave that as a reason for wanting some money—I understood that he had already got a situation—I know that he took a carpet-bag with him—I gave him 15s. on the Thursday—I did not know of any people at Bayswater owing him money—he did not complain to me of any person at Bayswater owing him money and not paying him—I knew that he used to go with Miss Stephens—he never said anything to me about contemplating marriage; he did not complain that if things did not improve he would never be able to get married—he complained of tie great difficulty he had in getting a situation—I knew that he used to visit at Mr. Wiggins'—I did not know of his endeavours to borrow money of Wiggins, or of his writing to him about this period pressing him to lead him a sovereign—he did not mention the name or address of any person to whom he was going when he left on the Thursday morning; he did not say where the situation was: I did not ask him—he never said anything to me about going abroad, or going out of the country, as he could not get employment here.
Re-examined. Paddington is close to Bayswater—I did not know of a small debt owing to the prisoner by a person named Orgee at Paddington—the last time he was at home he was desponding at not getting a situation.
By the Court. When he was going away on the Thursday he said he had got a situation; but he was very desponding before he left on the Thursday morning—there was no quarrel between me and my son, we never quarrelled in our lives—he took away in the carpet-bag a night-shirt, a day-shirt, a comb and brush, and a tie, and towel—I expected him back on the Saturday evening to dine with us on the Sunday as usual; he took just enough to last him till then—he had no words to my knowledge with anyone at home.
AGNES CAROLINE TREADAWAY . I am the daughter of the last witness; I am nineteen years of age—at the end of August or the beginning of September last my brother came home out of a situation—he was very low-spirited from that time up to the 14th December—one morning, about a week before he left home, as I was washing-up the breakfast things, he said the best thing he could do was to shoot himself—he did not say anything more; I can't remember how the conversation arose—on the Saturday
before the Thursday when he went away he went to visit Mr. James Stephens at King's Cross; he stopped away all night and came back on the Sunday to dinner—I can't remember how he passed his time on the Monday—I remember his assisting his father in writing some tickets for the window—he has very frequently complained to me of his head; he said he had pains in his head—he frequently complained of that the latter part of the time he was there—before my brother left on the Thursday he spoke to me—about having overheard his father say something; he wanted me to tell him what his father had said; he said to me "What was it pa said"—I did not make any answer—he said "I have heard all"—he did not say anything more—he said he was going away to a situation—he asked me twice what his father had said, twice on the same day, Thursday—something was said about turning him out—father had said that if he did not go he should kick him out—he did not say it to him—I did not tell the prisoner what he had said—he said he had heard all; he said; "Pa shall not kick me out, I will go"—up to the last time he was at home he was very cheerful; he was very fond of singing—he seemed very depressed about the beginning of December, and complained of his head.
By the Court. I think it was on the Wednesday morning before the prisoner went away on the Thursday that my father had said this.
Cross-examined. He had been helping my father during the Wednesday in writing tickets for the window—it was at the breakfast-table that my father made this observation, not before all of us; only mamma and I were present, nobody else—I did not tell my brother what my father said—it was on the Friday before the Thursday, 14th December, that he said the best thing he could do was to shoot himself; that was not said before all of us, only to myself in the parlour; it was' at the time he was complaining that he had got no employ, and that he was a burden at home.
CAROLINE STEPHENS . I am the daughter of Mr. Stephens, of Harrow Road—the last time I saw the prisoner was on the Saturday before the Friday that he went to Pimlico—I met him by appointment at my brother's house at King's Cross—he stopped to supper there, and stayed all night—when I went away on the Saturday night he took me to the omnibus; he parted with me in the usual way—there was no quarrel between us.
DR. HUGHES BENNETT . I am an M.D. and a Member of the College of Physicians of London, carrying on my profession at 117, Cornwall Road; I also hold an appointment at the Westminster Hospital—I have been studying medicine for twelve years—in the course of my practice I have seen persons afflicted with epilepsy; epileptic vertigo and epileptic fits are the same disease, epileptic; they belong to the same category of epilepsy, epileptic vertigo being the name given, especially by the French, to the milder form; epileptic fits is a name given to that which is characterized by convulsions—epilepsy in the milder form can exist without the patient's knowledge, I mean that he can have epileptic vertigo without knowing it; it recurs at different intervals, longer or shorter as may be; it does not usually occur at regular periods—persons subject to the milder form of the disease very frequently become gradually subject to the greater malady, epileptic fits—epileptic vertigo is not necessarily the incipient stage of epilepsy; a person may have epileptic vertigo all his life without its going any further—he may not of necessity be aware that he has vertigo—there are many cases on record where persons have had the milder form of epileptic vertigo without necessarily having been aware of it—there is an
affinity between insanity and epilepsy—the hereditary transmission of insanity applies also to the hereditary transmission of epilepsy; I mean to say that epileptic vertigo is transmissible—it is possible that a person may have a taint of insanity and be subject to epileptic vertigo—a person out of his mind may have epileptic vertigo—I have seen specific instances of persons with epileptic vertigo acting automatically—on one occasion when I happened to be travelling abroad it was brought to my knowledge that one of the officers of the ship attempted to commit suicide on several occasions, and on conversing with him on the subject he denied all knowledge of the facts stated against him, but witnesses were produced to show that he had done so on several occasions; what I actually saw was this, I was called to him in a hurry, and I had reason to believe he was suffering from opium poisoning; upon applying the stomach pump I extracted about a pint of laudanum out of his stomach, and while performing this operation he was perfectly sensible, and denied all knowledge of having taken it—I believed that; I questioned him as to what he had taken; he was not able to answer me; he told me that he was quite unconscious of having taken anything—my attention was called to the fact that he looked ill, and when I went to him he complained of being ill, but when I asked him why, he said he did not know—I afterwards saw that the laudanum bottle in the doctor's cabin was quite empty, and there were dregs of laudanum in the bottom of a tumbler—I believe that was a case of epileptic vertigo—I believe from all the circumstances of the case that on all those occasions upon which he attempted to commit suicide he was unconscious of the fact that he had done so—that is a symptom of epileptic vertigo, and that was my conclusion from what he said—I have known other cases of automatic action in persons suffering from epileptic vertigo, cases of a similar character, and I came to the conclusion on much the same grounds—while I was house-physician I remember one case of a man who was brought into the hospital suffering from some slight complaint of his lungs, and various complaints were made against him for assaulting the patients in the wards at different times—I was informed by the nurses that this was done apparently while under the influence of a fit—I did not see them absolutely myself, but I was obliged to dismiss the man for his conduct—besides the cases that have come under my observation, I have, in the study of the profession, become acquainted with this disease of epilepsy divided into its various forms of epeleptic vertigo and epileptic fits; that is known to medical science; it is not a recognised form of mental derangement; all those fits of unconsciousness are included under the term epilepsy—the fact of a. man being epileptic does not necessarily mean that he is insane, but epilepsy may frequently be associated with insanity, and frequently it is; it may not be so necessarily, it may so wear out the brain as in time to make the person insane—at the time of the attack of vertigo the patient is unconscious—during the time of an attack of epileptic vertigo the person can perform acts of which he is unconscious, and speak, but not rationally; he may speak apparently rationally—I have not known such an instance—it is a part of medical science, known to medical men, that a person labouring under epileptic vertigo can talk rationally; they can answer questions—they may answer questions to the point, although it may not be rationally—there are a good many writers upon this subject, eminent medical men; among the English there are Doctors Maudslay, Jackson, Russell, and Reynolds, and among the French there are Trousseau, Fabret, and Esquirol; they
are the principal writers upon epilepsy, they are living men and have had experience—it is after an acquaintance with the writings of those authors that I have given the last answer—I was requested by the solicitor conducting this defence to attend at the Westminster police-court when the accused, was under charge; that was on the second examination, I believe, on the 26th December—I did not see the attack spoken to by Inspector Foignett; nothing occurred to attract my notice, I did not see anything the matter with him then; I have seen him on five occasions, including that time—he has answered any question that I may have put to him—on the first occasion I saw him at the Westminster police-court and on three occasions at the House of Detention and had three interviews with him—on the last two occasions I saw him in Newgate—during those interviews I had occasion to examine him physically and as a result of that examinational did not discover any unhealthy condition—I then interrogated him as to his past health and he stated that he had been in good health till two years ago; he said that about that time he had what he termed a fainting fit in a chemist's shop; he described the fainting fit to me—he said that since then he had six or eight seizures of a similar character, and that in addition to those he had been subject during the last two years to very frequent and violent headaches—he said also that during this time he had been in the habit of occasionally passing water in 'bed during sleep—he also said that he had be liable to various nervous pains, more especially that which is medically termed angina pectoris, that is the name I give from his description—he said that since August last he had been in a very depressed and melancholic condition; he said he brooded over his troubles to such an extent that he subsequently formed the idea of committing suicide—he further stated that several plans of performed suicide suggested themselves to his mind, but that he finally determined upon a pistol as being the most expeditious and one that he was likely to have the resolution to carry out—finally he stated that on the morning of the 15th he had a very severe headache, and that while sitting with Mr. Collins he was seized with a violent shooting pain in the head, with giddiness, and with the sensation of a black cloud coming over his senses, and from that moment his mind was a blank until he found himself in the street—most of this was told upon the second interview that I had with him—he also stated that for the remainder of that day he felt headache and confused in his ideas, and towards the evening he felt quite well—these statements came out in the course of conversation with me—I did not tell him what I came to see him for, I told him I was a doctor come to see after his health; I did not in any way suggest the answers to my questions—supposing all these statements to be true, it indicated a form of disease known as epileptic vertigo—it was at the second interview, but the first that 1 had at the House of Detention, that he spoke about a dark cloud—I had an opportunity of conversing with him freely there—I think the 3rd of February was the last time I saw him—I saw his illness yesterday in the dock—the fit itself was somewhat of an anomalous character, but, in my opinion, it was decidedly of an epileptic form—I mean to say that it did not represent the characteristic symptoms of an epileptic fit; some of them did, but not all; it was somewhat more prolonged than is usual, and some of the symptoms were varied from what is common in that disease—I accompanied him into the cell—total insensibility is one characteristic sign of epelepsy, and dilitation of the pupils and a seeming unconscious stupor, which for some time succeeded the attack—I tested the Question of total insensibility
in the presence of Mr. Gibson—we did not measure the time of his insensibility by a watch, but it appeared to me about five minutes. (The learned Judge read to the witness that portion of the fathers evidence which referred to the illness of the prisoner when walking with him.) It is impossible for me to give an opinion from the description of one attack; I should not care to do so; some of the symptoms so described are quite consistent with epileptic vertigo, but the same symptoms might, to a certain extent, belong to other affections; there is nothing definitely characteristic—I could form an opinion if I had more than one fit described to me—the involuntary passing of water at night in sleep is a common symptom of epileptic seizure during sleep—the shooting and throbbing pains in the head are quite consistent with an epileptic attack, they are very frequently associated with it—an epileptic attack is very frequently followed by headache—fainting fits occur without being followed by headache, but very frequently they are—the symptoms which he described to me and which I term angina pectoris, was a pain and a sensation of a cord being drawn tightly round his chest, that very frequently accompanies epilepsy.
MR. BESLEY proposed to ask the witness whether, assuming the statement made to him by the prisoner to be correct, he was able to form, an opinion as to what the state of the prisoner was at that time. MR. JUSTICE LUSH said that this was the form of question often put and objected to, and it was in reality not a question of medical science, but was the question which the Jury alone could properly decide.
Cross-examined. Epilepsy is a disease of the brain—the patient is unconscious during the attack—it always takes away consciousness—a violent act, of which the person knows nothing afterwards, is not necessarily an indication of epileptic vertigo, but during an attack of epileptic vertigo a person may do violent actions—in my own personal observation I have never seen an attack of epileptic vertigo last more than two or three minutes, but the effects usually last for many hours afterwards—it may show itself coming on—during that state of unconsciousness a person may do acts, not necessarily of violence, but an extraordinary act which he may not be able to recollect when he recovers; he would not be able to say what he had done; that is the characteristic; I mean to say that when he comes to himself after this unconscious condition he will answer questions intelligibly—it has not come under my own personal experience to ask a person questions in that condition—in the case of the man on board ship, he was, not given to opium eating, nor was he a hard drinker—I had watched him for some months previous to this, during which time complaints were being brought to me that on several occasions he had attempted to commit suicide—I had not myself seen him attempt to commit suicide—when I went to see the prisoner at the House of Detention I did not intimate to Dr. Smiles that I was going to see him—I wrote to the Governor telling him I was going to see him—Dr. Smiles was not present—there is nothing in the description I have heard read to me in reference to his appearance on the Sunday that is inconsistent with an ordinary fainting fit—the prisoner is not delicately framed—he seemed to me of fair organisation—he does not appear to me to be at all of a delicate frame.
Re-examined. I went to the House of Detention after I had appeared at the Westminster police-court, and with the knowledge of Mr. Woolrich—he made a memorandum on the warrant—I took the usual course of writing to the Governor that I was coming—I did not disclose to the prisoner why
I went to see him—I went at the suggestion of the prisoner's solicitor—lunacy is a predisposing cause to epilepsy—if members of the family were lunatic and epileptic, it would be very strong presumption that any future generation would be tainted with that disease—assuming that some members of the family were affected with lunacy and another with epilepsy, it would presumably be in favour of the fainting described by the father being of an epileptic character—in the case of the man complained of in the ward of the hospital, I noticed the man myself, he was unconscious of having committed those acts—as to the man on board ship, although I did not see the attempts at suicide, I have no doubt about it.
DR. RHYS WILLIAMS . I am an M.D., and member of the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh.; I am resident physician at Bethlehem Royal Hospital, and lecturer on mental diseases at St. Thomas's Hospital—in my personal experience I have come across many cases of epilepsy—the medical profession recognise epileptic vertigo as a disease—some years ago I saw a gentleman who simply suffered from headache occasionally; at that time I had no suspicion of epilepsy; one morning suddenly whilst at breakfast he made a violent attack upon his wife; when I saw him shortly afterwards he could give me no account of it, nor any reason for so doing, he did not after that show any symptoms of mental disease, but he had subsequently at various intervals, some nine or ten epileptic fits—he had one about a month after he made the attack upon his wife; he continued under medical care about fourteen months; I heard of him about two years ago, he had then resumed his ordinary occupation and was perfectly well, and had no return of the fits, and he had-had ten or eleven in all—I heard of him about eighteen months ago, he was then well—I have not heard more recently—that is the only case I have seen that appears to me remarkable; I have seen others—a person attacked with epileptic vertigo is unconscious while he is committing the act, unconscious of what he may be doing, not insensible—from my own observation I can't say whether they can speak, they do acts automatically—all they do is automatic, that is the state they are in; I ground my opinion upon that; that is the definition of it; they act as mere machines, and when they recover they are utterly unconscious of anything that has happened—sometimes there may be perfect consciousness, perfect sanity before the attack—while under the influence of the vertigo they know not what they do, but I have seen cases where there is an impression afterwards of having done something, but they cannot tell what—the length of the attack varies very much, the longest I have ever seen lasted about an hour, the party being unconscious the whole of that time, but as a rule they are of very much shorter duration—I have been present during this trial; the symptoms described of constant headaches, passing water unconsciously during the night, and the pains described, correspond exactly with cases which I have had under my care, and which have been undoubtedly epileptic vertigo—I think they are characteristic of it—epilepsy, I think, would tend to shorten life, but not insanity—epilepsy is a disease of the brain—if there is an hereditary transmission of insanity, there may very probably be an hereditary transmission of epilepsy—yesterday I went into the jail and saw the prisoner in his illness—unfortunately I did not see him during the attack, only after, and he had been taken down before I got into the jail—he was unconscious when I went in—the pupils of the eye were dilated—I was not present when the unconsciousness was tested—an attempt to thwart or
oppose an epileptic, influences him at the time of an attack—we consider epileptics a most dangerous class amongst all lunatics, most liable to sudden outbreaks—I don't know that an ordinary epileptic would at the time of the fit be more subject to an outbreak than at other times, only an epileptic lunatic—from what I saw yesterday I am of opinion that he had had an epileptic fit, or I might say an epileptic form of fit; some of the symptoms of epilepsy were wanting, there were other indications which showed that it was combined with a considerable amount of hysteria, but there were symptoms that did not belong to hysteria.
Cross-examined. The gentleman who made the attack upon his wife, made it with a table-knife caught up from the table—I saw him about three hours after the attack on his wife—I was sent for—he did not kill her.
Re-examined. From the terms on which they were, there was no cause for the violence on his part, they were on the most affectionate terms, and have been ever since, for what I know.
By the Court. In the case of the vertigo which lasted an hour, the patient was restrained—it was a case of insanity, and we restrained him, or no doubt he would have been violent—he did not know—I have seen a case where the person was capable of conversing rationally at the time; but, as we are taught, they are incapable of conversing during the attacks—I learn that as a matter of medical science.
JOSEPH PEAKE RICHARDS . I am a surgeon and am medical superintendent at Hanwell Lunatic Asylum—Mary Stilwell was in the asylum from October 12th, 1874, and died on 13th January, 1875; she was of unsound mind, she was not dangerous, except to herself; she was reckless and would get into mischief; she would tumble about and be liable to break her bones, not liable to suicide, or dangerous to anybody else—I have had many epeleptic patients under my care for the last five years; I have averaged about 115 at a time constantly in the asylum, epileptic lunatics—I have seen several persons afflicted with epileptic vertigo, where it did not go beyond vertigo—I quite agree with the last two witnesses that a person in a fit of epileptic vertigo is unconscious at the time of any act he may commit—I have on several occasions had patients afflicted with epileptic vertigo who have attempted violence upon myself; I can recall to mind one that occurred about twelve months ago, a woman of the name of Fanny Sheward who was an epeleptic, but who, before the attack of epilepsy, used to have these attacks of epileptic vertigo—on one occasion she was talking very agreeably and sensibly, and suddenly I saw that her mind seemed to get vacant; she did not look at me in the face, and she suddenly hit out at me, and as soon as that was done she went on talking in the same agreeable strain—I said to her "Why did you hit me?"—she said "I don't think I hit you, I don't remember anything about it at all"—I have had other attacks made upon me by others, but I cannot recollect them so distinctly; those persons were afflicted with epileptic vertigo, alternating with epilepsy—this Sheward, some day or two after that had a violent attack of epilepsy and was much convulsed—in the other cases where the attempts were made upon me the patients, after recovering from the fit, were quite unconscious of what they had done—I saw the prisoner yesterday as he was coming out of the fit; he was unconscious then, but was not actually in the fit; from the symptoms I saw I formed the opinion that it was an epileptic fit, with some modified symptoms.
Cross-examined. The persons sent to Hanwell are sent as lunatics under the usual doctor's orders—I do not know of any instance of a person merely
suffering from time to time from epileptic fits being sent to Hanwell not being a lunatic—it is a characteristic of all the cases of epileptic vertigo that have come under my knowledge that after the paroxysms has passed the person is quite unconscious of what he has done; the memory is a blank, the brain stands still, and muscular action goes on.
COURT. Q. Did you ever know an instance within your own experience of a person being subject to epileptic vertigo who never before or after had a fit? A. No, I never did, only one that alternated with confirmed fits.
JOHN ROBINSON . I am an outfitter of 3, Havelock Terrace, Forest Hill—the prisoner was in my service from October, 1875, to February, 1876—during that time, as a rule, he looked very well indeed, the only strange thing that I noticed about him was, that occasionally, when spoken to, he seemed absent; I have known him look at • me straight in the face and apparently not understand the question I asked him, and when I have repeated it, he has said "Oh, yes," and answered it—I have noticed that on several occasions.
The following evidence was called by MR. STRAIGHT. in reply:.
WILLIAM SMILES , M.D. and M.R.C.S. I am surgeon of the House of Detention, Clerkenwell—the prisoner was first brought there and placed under my care on 18th December, and remained there until 15th January, when he was removed to Newgate—during the period he was under my care he was in good health, he talked quite rationally—I saw no signs about him of an epileptic attack in any form, nor did I hear of any—I did not notice anything about his physique indicating the presence of epilepsy—I saw him yesterday when he was suffering from the attack, but simply from the • Court, I did not go into the dock, it appeared to me that there was a good deal of hysteria mixed up with the attack—I heard some lady first crying in the body of the Court, and I observed that the prisoner became moved, I was watching him; he called out and slipped down—I was not present when Dr. Bennett had an interview with the prisoner, I was not aware of it till afterwards, or I should have considered it my duty to have been there.
Cross-examined. No one communicated to me that the prisoner had fallen down in two fits, fainting or otherwise, at the Westminster police-court, I was not aware of it whilst he was under my care—he did not come to the House of Detention as an ordinary inmate, cases of this kind are always placed in a different part of the prison, under strict watch, and my attention is always called to them the moment they reach the prison; I saw him repeatedly during the time he was there.
Q. You say there was hysteria mixed up with the attack yesterday; do I understand you to contradict point blank the statement of Dr. Williams and Dr. Bennett? A. On the contrary, I merely mention what I saw from that part of the Court; I cannot go so far as that.
COURT. Q. From what you saw of him whilst under your supervision, had you any suspicion of epilepsy in any form? A. Not the least in the world; not the slightest.
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am the surgeon of Newgate Prison—I received the prisoner in my charge on 15th January, and he has continued so down to the present time—I quite agree with Dr. Smiles' opinion as to his general health—I have not observed any epileptic appearance about him until yesterday—I saw him nearly throughout the attack that he had yesterday—I left him and had him conveyed to the prison, and then saw
him again—the attack had not completely passed away then—the ch ef symptoms of the attack were those referring to an hysterical condition, but there were some graver symptoms which perhaps might be referred to an epileptic character: the mode of attack, the progress of the attack, the condition under which he was during the attack, and many symptoms which perhaps it is not necessary for me to name here—the graver symptom was the unconsciousness—I do not think that belonged to the hysteria; it was extreme unconsciousness, he did not seem capable of being roused—some strong efforts were made to bring him to; some snuff was blown up his nose, that had no effect—I tested him with the same snuff this morning, and it had a very ready effect—I think the graver symptoms were probably of an epileptic nature—in a person with a tendency to epilepsy, I think a prolonged trial and strong emotion would certainly provoke an attack.
Cross-examined. In all diseases there must be a beginning, which is developed in course of time, there must be a beginning of everything—it does not always follow that in the case of a person affected with epilepsy that the fits increase in violence after a time; a man may be seized with a violent epileptic seizure without any premonitory symptoms; there is no rule even as to that; he may be seized with a violent convulsive attack without any premonitory symptoms—a person having an epileptic seizure and a week passing, there may be no trace in his countenance to show that he had had an epileptic attack; and another attack may not come on for six months—the attacks are very irregular and uncertain, and in the interval there may be no indication whatever of the person being subject to that disease.
GUILTY — DEATH
THIRD COURT—Thursday, February 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
247. JOHN RICHES (50) , Unlawfully conspiring with others not in custody, and obtaining by false pretences from Samuel Webber, 4l., his monies. Other Counts—for obtaining other monies from different persons. Messrs. F. H. Lewis and Mead conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. STRAIGHT, COLE, and DIXON, the Defence.
ALBERT H. Austin. I live at Ashreigney Manor, near Chulmleigh, North Devon—I saw in the "Western Times," on 22nd November, an advertisement similar to this. (Read: "Profitable investments on change. Important to capitalists investors and others. A safe certain and highly profitable investment during the month of December, decidedly the most propitious month in the year for highly successful investments. For full particulars of how to gain heavy profits through privilege investments in stocks and shares; prospectus and other valuable information, a twenty page pamphlet sent. Address to E. J. Snelling & Son, stock brokers, I and 2, Fish Street Hill, London, E.C.—Read the following opinion of the press. 'Investors would do well to obtain a copy of the prospectus issued by Snelling & Son, of 1 and 2, Fish Street Hill, City. Their advice is sound and practical. We have often had our attention directed to their remarkable successes.' Extract from the financial article in the Gazette, June 13th, 1875.) In consequence of that advertisement I sent my servant for & pamphlet, and this is the one I received from Snelling & Son, which I read, and I believed they were stock and share brokers, and that they had bankers and so forth, and I believed the testimonials set out to be genuine and bond fide. I drew a cheque for 20l. and enclosed it in a letter to
E. J. Snelling & Son—my servant described me as "Lord A. H. Austin,". and I received this reply from them: "My Lord—We beg respectfully to acknowledge the receipt of your lordship's favour enclosing cheque for 20l.," &c. (Reading the letter which offered a "splendid double privilege investment" on receiving another 180l.) I did not send the other 180l.—I enclosed a cheque to them for 40l. on 1st December—I was not debited with the cheque for 20l. in my banking account because I stopped it in time—the 40l. was also not paid—I also sent two other cheques for 10l., which have been paid—on 7th December, I wrote a letter to Snelling & Co.; asking for further information, and on the 8th I received a letter from them addressed to "The Eight Honourable A. H. Austin." (This letter stated that a very favourable double privilege investment had been that day effected on Mr. Austin's behalf). On 2nd December, I drew a cheque for 6l. in favour of Snelling & Son, which I handed to my servant Carter, which has also been paid—on 6th December, I drew a further cheque for 10l. which I handed to Carter, which has also been paid, making 36l.—the 60l. was saved to me.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I cannot state the exact date on which I received the pamphlet—it came to me by post—I had sent for it—I believed in puts and calls; I am very well aware that put and call is one of the commonest things—I had never speculated before in the City—I have employed a respectable broker in the City—it did occur to me that I might through my own broker whom I knew as respectable, carry on any speculation that I wished in the City; but I never gave it a thought—I believed in this, and I thought it was rather a good thing and I went in for it—I saw that Illinois Central had gone down in one day about 3 1/2 per cent., and got confidence in it.
By THE COURT. The Union Bank of London, being named as their bankers, had influence with me undoubtedly; also the statement that they were stock and sharebrokers.
By MR. STRAIGHT. I never speculated on the turf, and was never encouraged by advertisements about turf speculations—I sent my money to persons of whom I knew nothing to play at put and call with—I am about thirty years of age.
WILLIAM CARTER . I am Mr. Austin's butler—I saw an advertisement in the "Western Times," and also a pamphlet—I wrote by Mr. Austin's direction to Snelling & Son—I described my master as "Lord," thinking I should get a quicker answer—I have not a stockbroker—I sent this post-office order for 10l. of my own money to Snelling & Son (produced)—that was paid—I afterwards received a letter acknowledging the receipt—I recommended Henry Hayman, the gamekeeper to make an investment—I showed him the pamphlet—I read it to him—he gave me 10l., and the groom, Hullman, 4l., both of which sums I sent by post-office orders, and afterwards received a letter—acknowledging their receipt—I believed in the' truth and justice of put and call, and I believed Snelling & Son were share-brokers, and I believed the testimonials from the "Guardian" and No. 5, Ayr Street, Piccadilly—I received this circular after sending the money—one before and two afterwards. (This called attention to a most profitable opportunity for successful speculations.) I did not send any more money.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. I was caught by the statement "Messrs. "E. J. Snelling & Co. are thoroughly trustworthy and always to be relied on," which appeared in the "Guardian," which I thought to be the Investors' Guardian—I had never speculated before on 'Change—my wages
are 40l. a year, and I speculated to the extent of 10l.—I read this part of the pamphlet "In conclusion we beg to say all who speculate in stock should do so according to their means"—I thought if I had 10l. in my pocket I could speculate with it—I also read the passage following tha t "And to all such we have but one word of advice to offer, simply to leave speculation alone"—I was not seriously embarrassed and I never read it in that light or thought it applied to me personally—I do not read the newspapers in search for advertisements—I have never invested like this before.
Re-examined. I knew that my master had invested, and I sent my money—I spoke to Mr. Webber about this pamphlet.
W. C. FULFORTH. I produce the original registers from Stationers' Hall—we know nothing about—whether this pamphlet is registered—we have not searched—we explained that to the prosecution—we allow them to be searched.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. This register is from October, 1872, to 1873—we are subpoenaed to produce the registers from 1872 to 1876 inclusive—we should have about one such book a year as a rule.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I have gone through the books carefully, to the best of my belief, and I do not find any entry of this particular work—if there had been I should have seen it.
SAMUEL WEBBER . I am a draper and grocer at Chulmleigh, close to where Mr. Austin lives—I had some conversation with Carter in reference to this double investment privilege—I forget whether he showed me any pamphlet—in consequence of what he said to me or showed to me I got my brother to write a letter, and afterwards had a pamphlet, similar to that produced, of my brother—this is the one my brother handed me—I sent a cheque to Snelling & Co. for 4l., which was paid—it was to be invested in this double privilege—I received a letter from Snelling & Co. enclosing this receipt (produced)—I afterwards drew a cheque for 10l. enclosing it in a letter of 2nd December, crossed "Union Bank of London," which was paid, and I received a receipt in due course in a letter—I afterwards sent a cheque for 6l., crossed "Union Bank of London," on 4th December—that was not debited to me—it had not passed through the bankers—that made up 20l. altogether—I did not read much of the pamphlet—I believed through Mr. Austin's recommendation that it was right.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I sent throe cheques—the first was 4l.—I addressed the letter myself to Snelling & Son, I and 2, Fish Street Hill—I got a receipt in due course for each of the remittances.
ENOCH BROAD . I live near Stafford and am a retired tradesman—I saw in the "Birmingham Daily Post" an advertisement similar to this produced, in consequence of which I wrote to Snelling & Son, and received this pamphlet (produced); I also received in the same letter a similar circular to the one which has been read—I had 50l. spare cash at that time, and I sent up a 50l. note in two halves—this note, No. 49,440 (produced), is the one; I at the same time filled up a double privilege form sent me—I received in answer this letter of 6th. (This acknowledged the receipt of the 50l., and suggested that another 350l. should be sent for investment.) I did not send the 350l., but replied saying "In reply to yours to hand this
morning, I beg to say that 50l. is all the spare cash I have by me, which you will kindly return. I shall have to forego all prospective advantages for the present, as I can place the sum in investment near home"—they did not return the 50l.—instead of receiving my gigantic profits arising out of my 50l., I saw by the "Daily Post" that the case was in the police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I gave my evidence at the police-court—Mr. Straight cross-examined me, and I said "I am about sixty-eight years of age. I was about twenty years in business. My paper is the 'Birmingham Daily Post' I have been retired about twenty-five years. I have made investments on the Stock Exchange before this. I have employed a broker there—my bankers are Lloyd's Banking Company. I have not made many investments; the last one I made was eight or nine months ago. I did not make many before; it was some years, before. When I read the advertisement I applied for a pamphlet. There was nothing particularly striking in the advertisement I relied upon the double privilege purchase. I could not tell what they were going to do for me. I entrusted 50l. to people whom I had never seen, to do something, I don't know what. I could Dot tell whether I should lose or win I did not expect to lose; I did not think I could lose. I expected to get some return on the investment. I thought I should make money"—I did not think I was going in for a fortune—I read the pamphlet carefully through—that was before I sent my money.
Re-examined. I never got any return for my money, or of my money.
JAMES GRAHAM CHURCHER . I am a hatter, at 1 and 2, Fish Street Hill, and am landlord of the house—on 15th November I let an office on the third floor to a man who gave the name of Snelling—this written agreement was drawn up (produced)—the rent was 26l. per annum for a single room on the third floor—he said that his son was doing outside business on the Stock Exchange, and he was going to start him in business and take an office for him—he referred me to Low & Co., coal merchants, 110, Cannon Street—the young man came first and looked at the office, and the man who represented himself to be the father came an hour after and completed—the young man was about twenty-three years of age—4l. was paid me for some furniture in the office, and floor-cloth—I received no rent.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I stated at the police-court that the father said that his son had been doing stock-jobbing—I did not understand him to say he was a stockbroker, or I should have made enquiry—he said a stockjobber—the father was a man of about fifty, a sharp, shrewd-looking man, that seemed-to know what he was about—the son was a smartish looking young man—he looked up to business too—I only saw him a few minutes,—I had no hesitation in letting them the place—they appeared to be respectable people.
HANNAH SLATTER . I am single, and am housekeeper at 1 and 2, Fish Street Hill—I remember the third floor being let to Mr. Snelling, who I have seen there, and also his son, several times—I have also seen the prisoner there three times—the first time I saw him he brought his son to the office, John Riches, Junr., who remained there as office boy—on the 13th and 14th December I saw Riches there—he did not leave any message with me on either of those days—I asked him if he was likely to see Mr. Snelling or Mr. George, his clerk, and he said he might—the letters which arrived were taken from the office on the 13th and 14th by the prisoner—I should think
there were about twenty letters on the 13th, and about as many on the 14th; I cannot tell exactly.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I saw the elder Mr. Snelling there five or six times, not more—I only saw the son once—Mr. George, the clerk, was about thirty or thirty-three years of age—I saw him there a good many times—he used to come every day.
EDWARD THOMAS BOWER . I am in the service of Mr. Sheriff, wine merchant, of the Arches, Ludgate Hill—5, Imperial Arcade, Ludgate Circus, is part of our property—I knew it in January, 1876—there was no one living there or carrying on business in the name of Alfred James Coutts, accountant. (This was the name attached to the fifth testimonial.)
JAMES KELLY . I am a bookseller, of 2, Vigo Street, and was living there in September, 1875—there was no one living there at that time, or carrying on business in the name of H. J. Chamberlain. (This was the name attached to the 4th Testimonial.)
THOMAS BRAITHWAITE . I am a builder, of Hammersmith—I knew John Riches, a printer—he was a tenant of mine at 76, King Street West, Hammersmith, for exactly eight years—his tenancy expired at March, 1876—he was lining there in March, 1875—I know of his carrying on business as a jobbing printer at High Street, Acton, after he left King Street—he paid me £33 a year—he was a man of small means—I did not know anybody named George Riches.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I always thought him to be a respectable, honest man, and I believe the neighbours thought so—I think I saw him in the neighbourhood up to June last year, it might be a little later—he suffered a good deal from abscesses in his leg.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. There are many outside dealers—I have not seen the pamphlet.
WILLIAM GEORGE MITCHELL . I am accountant clerk at the Birkbeck Bank, Southampton Buildings—on the 20th November, a person giving the name of George Riches, High Street, Acton, came to the bank and opened an account—this is our book. (This showed an account opened by George Riches, printer, of High Street, Acton. Reference, Kate Parrott, Newton Strut, Holborn.) 25l. was paid in according to the credit slips—I had never seen him before or since—I do not know whether the prisoner is the man—I could not identify him—the account appears to have been paid in in gold.
KATE PARROTT . I am married—I keep an account at the Birkbeck Bank; my husband does not—I authorised no person of the name of George Riches to give me as a reference—I do not know anyone of that name, or Snelling, Gorts, or Simpson.
FREDERICK MORLEY HILL . Messrs, E. J. Snelling & Son had no account at my bank—on the 20th November an account was opened by a person who gave the name of George Riches, High Street, Acton—we afterwards received this letter. (Read: "To the Master of the Birkbeck
Bank Dear Sir,—Please to place the enclosed amount, 16l. 4s., to my credit," &c. The envelope was stamped "Unitas est vis.") On 13th December the same man came to the bank and made out the slip produced, and obtained payment of a cheque for 40l., and went away, after paying in the drafts entered on it, leaving the slip on the counter—I wrote a letter addressed to G.—Riches, printer, High Street, Acton, which was retained by the police, and opened in the presence of the Lord Mayor. (This letter was found on the prisoner when taken into custody.) On 6th December a cheque drawn by A. H. Austin, was paid into my bank to the credit J. Riches. (Produced, marked B E 1.) It is perforated with our stamp, and was subsequently paid.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I said at the police-court "I have seen our customer, G. Riches at the bank; the prisoner, John Riches, I am sure is not the G. Riches who came to the bank; I saw G. Riches on 13th December"—I recollect that date—it is the date he filled up the printed slip I have spoken of—he drew out forty sovereigns—he was called after to stop—he left the slip—I forget the figures of the balance after he drew out the 40l.—it was right what I stated at the Mansion House—this letter produced is dated 11th-December, and addressed to the Manager of the Birkbeck Bank—the Union Bank of London, Chancery Lane Branch, are oar clearing bankers—no letter came back through the Dead Letter Office—not the one I am referring to—there was a letter returned through the Dead Letter Office; but I cannot remember which.
CAROLINE WEIGHT . I live at 1, Belgrave Street, King's Cross, and let lodgings—a gentleman named Thomas called on me on 1st December, and took a parlour and bed-room in the front of the house for friend named Gorts—he gave no initial—Gorts never came to take possession—he was coming from the country—I received some letters addressed to Mr. Gorts the following day, which I gave to Mr. Thomas on his calling—the letters marked "W 1," "W 2," W 3," and "W 4," I gave to the police on their calling.
HENRY PIGGOTT . I am manager of the London and South-Western Bank, Uxbridge Road Branch—on 1st December, an account was opened there in the name of John Gorts, of 1, Belgrave Street, King's Cross—he was introduced to me by a customer—he paid 68l. in at that time, and I gave him a cheque-book—the letters (S 1 to 6) I received in hie name—I produced them at the Mansion House—for the most part they contained cheques to be paid in to his account—I also received this letter, is 3. (This letter requested that the pass-book and a cheque-book should be given to bearer.) I gave them to the bearer, whom I saw at the Mansion House—it was John Riches, junior, the little boy—I believe I received a cheque for 40l., drawn by Mr. Austin, which I returned in a letter to Mr. Gorts, because it was crossed "Union Bank of London," and we could not clear it—"W. 1 "is in my writing—in that letter I sent cheques B B 1 to B B 4, 28th November, 1876, for 20l., drawn by A. H. Austin, also endorsed "Union Bank of London," for the same reason—I received numerous other cheques so crossed, which I also had to return—there is a balance now of 21l. odd.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Mr. Gorts was introduced by a customer of mine, of the Avenue Road—Gorts was a gentlemanly-looking man, I think I should know him if I saw him again—the only time I saw Riches at—the bank was on one occasion which is spoken of by me—I said at the Mansion House "On 18th December the defendant Henry Laurence came to the
bank;" he called for the balance and said he was sent by Mr. Gorts—he was charged with Robert Daniel Laurence and this defendant at the Mansion House, and the two Laurences were discharged—I did not pay the balance.
Re-examined. Gorts was about twenty, seven years of age, I should think.
By MR. COLE. I recollect being cross-examined as to this "I never remember seeing Riches until I came into the Court."
By MR. LEWIS. I have not seen Gorts since the prisoner's arrest, and he has made no personal application to me for his balance.
JAMES HAWKES . I am a postman, delivering letters at Acton—I was in the habit of delivering letters addressed to George Riches, printer, High. Street, Acton, at the prisoner's house up to some time in December; I do not recollect the date—they were afterwards refused—I should say the refusal was about 15th December.
JOHN MCGRATH . I am a journeyman printer, and was working for Riches in December last, as a pressman, at High Street, Acton—I did not know anybody in the establishment named George Riches—I found some type when I went there, which had been set up, from which I printed this pamphlet, which has been produced, the 4th edition—the type being kept up, they could be reprinted as wanted; that is what we call a reprint—I printed off between 250 and 300 copies; Riches assisted me in striking them off, and they were sent off the premises to be made up—first Mr. Riches paid me my wages, and afterwards Mrs. Riches.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I was only there a fortnight—I worked at the press—I was not a compositor—I found the type set up.
JAMES CHARLES ROWNEY . I am a lithographer at Whetstone Park, Lincoln's Inn—I have known the prisoner" some years as a printer, simply as Mr. Riches—on 17th November he called upon me and gave me an order—there were two or more items, I cannot speak exactly from memory—there were many of these circulars printed—I have my book here—the order on the 17th consisted of two items, 250 circulars of the description shown, and 250 letter headings; I struck them off—he spoke to me about a die and I introduced him to Jones & Co., die sinkers, of 11 and 12, Bloomsbury Market—I did this circular relating to the Illinois Railway Company—I executed another order on 2nd December for letter headings—on 8th December I stamped 500 envelopes with this die made by Jones & Co., "Unitas est vis," it was delivered to me by the prisoner—I also, on 8th December, did 100 more circulars—I struck off 75 of another circular on the same day and also 300 more letter headings—he also ordered on the same day 1,000 more envelopes stamped as before with that die—the whole account came to 6l. 16s., which the prisoner paid me with the exception of a balance of 1l. 17s. 6d.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I did not make inquiries as to who Snelling & Son were, but simply executed the order for Riches as I had done many times before—I instructed Mr. Riches to get the stamp done, and some portion was done by Jones & Co., but as there was a question about time, and a die stamper was on the premises I got somebody to do it and they finished the order—I have done a good deal of business for Riches; I have known him not less than half a dozen years; I have always known him as a respectable and honest tradesman—I knew that his legs were not so well as one could wish them—he left the die with me.
Re-examined. I do not know of any other matter in which he has been
compromised as a printer—I do not know of the turf frauds—I have never given information to the City solicitor—I repeat the opinion I have formed of Mr. Riches.
WILLIAM JONES . I am manager to Messrs-Jones & Co., die sinkers—the last witness introduced Riches to us, and we made this die in wood (produced)—I told him the price would be 30s., including 500 envelopes—he came once for the envelopes, according to appointment, and they were not quite ready—the second time he did not come himself.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. It is the custom of die sinkers, lithographers, and printers to do business with one another.
JOHN CHARLES MANN . I am a clerk in the head office of the Union Bank—E. J. Snelling & Son, of Fish Street Hill, had no account there during November and December, nor at any time so far as I know, or at any of our branches.
WILLIAM SMITH (City Detective). One of these pamphlets was received at the City office, about 5th December, with' a Manchester paper with advertisements similar to the one produced in the "Birmingham Daily Post"—in consequence of that I went to the third floor of 1 and 2, Fish Street Hill, about two days afterwards, where I found a room, on the door of which was "Snelling & Son, stock and share brokers"—I saw the boy Riches—on 15th December I went there again, with Simmonds, between 8 and 9 o'clock in the morning, and saw about thirty-two letters which had been delivered, addressed to Messrs. Snelling & Son, which I took, as also some other letters and newspapers addressed to them—I found about 200 provincial newspapers there, many of them containing the advertisement which has been read to the Jury; also Irish and Scotch papers—I afterwards went to Seething Lane station where I found the prisoner in custody—I said "Your boy has taken some letters from 1 and 2, Fish Street Hill, to the coffee-house to you which you have received"—he said "I am only the printer for them"—he was asked his name and address, which he refused to give—I said "We know your name is Riches"—he said "Yes, it is"—then he gave his name as John Riches, High Street, Acton—I searched him and found on him the letter which has been produced from the Birkbeck Bank, unopened, directed to G. Riches—he said "It isn't for me, it is for my brother"—Simmonds took a parcel from him—I afterwards went down in the country and got copies of the "Western Times," the-" Birmingham Daily Post," and various news-papers—I had seen the same in the office.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. The letter I found unopened was from the Birkbeck Bank and was sealed and addressed "Mr. Geo. Riches, printer, High Street, Acton"—the prisoner was in the charge-room when I got to Seething Lane station—I was sent for, and having charge of the case I charged him—he had not been charged before I came in—I should think he had been there about a quarter of an hour—I got to the station about 11 o'clock—Simmonds took him in custody.
Hill-after we left the coffee-house I went up to the prisoner and told him I was an officer and was going to take him in custody for being concerned with other persons in a fraud—I asked him to give me the letters he had received from his son—he said "I have no letters"—I said "Yes, you have I saw you receive them from your son," and I opened his coat and took them out of his pocket; they were addressed to Snelling & Son, I and 2, Fish Street Hill, moat of them applying for a pamphlet, and one or two of them enclosing a cheque—I afterwards delivered the letters over to Serjeant Smith—on the way to the station he said to me in the presence of Oldhampstead, "Why didn't you follow me a little further, you would have had all the group?" at the same time tearing up a railway ticket from the Mansion House Station to Westminster—I afterwards "went to Riches place and found there some pamphlets.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. The letters I took from him were closed, and I believe were opened at the Mansion House—I had taken him in custody when he tore up the ticket; he knew he was not going to Westminster then.
WILLIAM HENRY TRAFFORD (City Detective). I made a search at Fiat Street Hill, and found a large ledger, a call-book, a quantity of newspapers, a numerical register of shareholders in the Imperial Ottoman Mining Company, a book called "Monthly Returns," and two or three books with names of stock.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY . The Jury considered that he had been the dupe of others— Judgment Respited.
FOURTH COURT—Thursday, February 8th, 1877.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. D. METOALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM EDMUND YOUNG . I am a builder of Hart's Lane, Bethnal Green—the prisoner was in my employment as a journeyman joiner, from the beginning of March to December—I occasionally lent him tools which are usually kept in the shop for the use of the apprentices—he left my service about the end of November or the beginning of December because the trade was slack—I afterwards missed tools to the value of about 11l.—I informed the police—on 1st of January I went to some school board buildings in Levtonstone with a constable, where the prisoner was at work—he found a plane in the prisoner's basket—I charged the prisoner with having stolen my tools and asked him where they were—he said that he
Bad not got them—these tools (produced) are mine; I know this one because it has been cut off at the end; there are two brad-holes in the bottom of it,' and there is my thumb-mark—the holes are not usually found in these tools—the constable found some pawn-tickets on the prisoner, and we went to a pawnbroker where we found this pair of sash-planes (produced) and the other tools—my name is on the bottom of this one, and I have the templates to match them—the prisoner has marked his name over mine—all the tools produced are mine, the prisoner had no authority to take them away.
Cross-examined. I kept a large quantity of tools on the premises when the prisoner was with me—I have not sent any of my tools away at any time—I have not been a bankrupt—my foreman might have borrowed some—I kept between thirty and forty workmen; other people have borrowed tools of me—the workmen sometimes take them away; it is their duty to return them, but I have lost so many that it will cost me 15l. to replace them.
GEORGE BLANKS (Policeman NR 49). I am stationed at Leytonstone—on January 1st I went and saw the prisoner at work on some buildings there—I saw the plane produced in a basket; I showed it to Young, and he identified it—I found a pawn ticket on the prisoner—I went to the pawnbrokers, who produced two planes, which Young identified—I took the prisoner into custody, and charged him first with stealing one plane—he said "I have one belonging to Mr. Young, but that I have lent."
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate "I can see no other name upon the planes; I cannot see any trace of Young's stamp on the planes; I can see some other name but Polglasse, but I cannot see what it is.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. VIVIAN conducted the Prosecution.
WALTER EDWARD JONES . I am a bootmaker, of 46, Victoria Dock Road—on 7th October, I missed a pair of boots from off a nail inside my shop; having seen them ten minutes previously—I told the police, and afterwards went with a constable to a pawnbroker's shop—these boots produced are mine—their value is 6s. 9d.; the prisoner had to come inside the shop to get them.
GEORGE DOVE . I am a pawnbroker, of Plaistow—on the afternoon of 17th October, the prisoner pledged these boots—afterwards Mr. Jones and a constable came for them—I did not notice if the prisoner was lame—I identified him from his features and his speech.
WILLIAM MOSS (Policeman K 123). On 1st January, I apprehended the prisoner, and charged him with stealing boots, on 17th October—I took him to Mr. Jones' and to the pawnbrokers, where he was identified as the man who pledged them—he said first "You have made a mistake"—afterwards he said "I cannot help it."
Prisoner's Defence. The pawnbroker did not say that the person who pawned the boots walked lame, but one of ay legs is 3 inches shorter than the other; I am innocent.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BIRNIE conducted the Prosecution.
MARGARET FLETCHER . I live with my sister-in-law, at 137, Lilliput Road, Plaistow—the prisoner is her servant—on 22nd January, a policeman came to the house and examined a box in which I had kept a gold cross and other jewels—I missed them, and also three small gold earrings—this is the cross (produced)—I afterwards went to my daughter's drawer from which I missed these two rings—the property produced is mine; I saw the cross about a week before—I had given my little girl a bunch of keys on a ring.
HANNAH FLETCHER . I am Mrs. Fletcher's daughter—I am eleven years old and live—with my aunt—my mother gave me a bunch of keys, one of which opens the box in which the cross was—I remember going upstairs with the prisoner and showing her the rings in my drawer—I did not say that she might hare them—I did not see the cross—I did not do anything that might lead her to think I meant her to have them.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I sold three empty medicine bottles of my aunt's to a ragman—I did not tell my aunt about it—I got three farthings for the bottles and bought some toffy with it—I did not say to the prisoner that if she did not tell about the bottles I would give her the rings—I did not take 1d. off the mantlepiece.
ELIZABETH PARSONS . I am the prisoner's sister and live at 2, Poplar Street, Plaistow—on Saturday night, 20th January, the prisoner gave me one of the keys produced, and on the Sunday night she gave me the cross—she asked me to pawn them—I gave them to Mary Ann Hocket to pawn.
MARY ANN HOCKET . I live at 3, Poplar Street, Plaistow, opposite where the prisoner lived—on Monday morning, 22nd January, Elizabeth Parsons asked me if I could take the two rings and a cross for her mother to the pawnbroker's—when I got there a policeman was sent for.
JOHN CHAMBERLAIN (Policeman KR 22). About 2.30 on Monday morning, 22nd January, I went with Mr. Jones to the pawnbrokers, where I saw Mary Ann Hocket and the cross and rings produced—I then went to the prosecutrix's house and charged the prisoner with stealing two rings and the cross—she said that she knew nothing at all about it—then she said that she did not take them but that the little girl Fletcher gave them to her—I took her to the station, and afterwards, on going to the cell, I found this key in the closet pan—I afterwards took it to Mrs. Whistler and saw it fitted to her drawers.
M. A. WHISTLER (re-examined). This is my key, there are marks on it.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "On Saturday afternoon the little girl said 'I will give you a ring, Clara, if you won't tell aunt I sold her bottles.' I said 'All right, Emma;' and she said 'I will give you another to-morrow." On Sunday she took me upstairs and gave me the rings and a cross that had been in a box in a little corner drawer, and said 'You may have those two;' I locked the drawer in her presence, and gave her the keys, and saw no more of the keys. I gave the things to my sister to pawn for me."
Prisoner's Defence. I never had the key found in the cell; there was an old lady in the cell; the things were all given to me by the little girl that I should not tell her aunt about the bottles.
GUILTY— Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PALMER . I am a Custom House officer—on 1st January the vessel Poonah was unloading in the Victoria Docks—the prisoner was helping—I saw a case landed in a slip, and noticed that it had been broken—on examination a box of cigars was missing—I went on board and into the hold, where I saw the prisoner—I asked him if he had sent a case ashore in a broken state, he said "If you want the cases you will have to go to the other side of the ship;" pointing where other men were at work—I said that I wanted one that was in a broken state, and seeing His coat, I said "Does this coat belong to you?"—he said, that it did—I searched, and found 65 cigars similar to these (produced)—I had previously told the foreman to make each man produce his coat, the prisoner did not do so, and the foreman said "Bill, it is your coat, you may as well own to it"—he made no reply to that—I took him ashore, and before my superior officer the prisoner said that someone must have put the cigars into his pocket while he was at dinner.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. "I noticed the broken case while I was on the quay—it was about 12.30, and you commenced work a little after the twenty minutes—no one told me of the cigars being in your pocket—some cigars were picked up in the hold—I did not find any cigars on your person—there was only one broken case.
EDWARD WILLIAM GABRARD . I am a clerk in the Peninsular and Oriental Company's service—my attention' was called to this broken case—I took the cigars out of the prisoner's pocket in the presence of the Surveyor of Customs—a napkin also was found on the prisoner; when asked about it he said "That is what I wrap my food in"—I looked at it and identified the company's mark upon it—he said that someone had put it in his pocket.
EDWARD HANNAN " (Policeman K 511). The prisoner was given into my custody and taken to Plaistow station, where he was searched—in his jacket pocket I found a towel and a table-napkin—he said that someone must have put them there.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been working on the Peninsular and Oriental Company's boats for some time. I went on board the Poonah on 1st January. We are only allowed twenty minutes to dinner, and never think of putting on our clothes, as it takes five minutes to get out of the hold. One of the boxes happened to be broken. The Custom House officer asked me if I had seen the packages; I said there were some amidships. He then asked me for my coat—I pulled it down, and the cigars rolled out. I was then taken in custody and charged. If I had wanted the 'cigars I could have taken them away at breakfast or dinner time.
PLEADED GUILTY**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. POLAND and MR. COWIE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM COLLINS (Dockyard Constable). I do duty at the Royal Arsenal—on 13th January I accompanied Inspector Parker to 4, Plumstead Road, where Johnson keeps a marine-store shop—we had a search-warrant—Parker said "You bought 20 lbs. of metal last night, and gave id. per pound for it"—Johnson hesitated, and then said "I did"—Parker said "Let's have it"—Johnson produced a sack from behind the counter containing gun-metal—I heard no more, as I went on searching the premises—this is the bag (produced)—I also found 24 lbs. of brass strips not marked with the Broad Arrow—I also found the two pieces of leather in a drawer, one is marked with the Broad Arrow, but it is partly cut out—this other piece of leather is produced for comparison.
Cross-examined. I shall have been quartered at Woolwich seven years nest March—old metal is sometimes sold as condemned stores, but they would have the "condemned" mark on them, although the Broad Arrow would remain.
HENRY PARKER (Police Inspector). On Saturday, January 13th, I went with Collins to Johnson's shop, which is about 50 or 60 yards from the entrance to the Arsenal—Johnson was behind the counter—I said "You bought 20 lbs. of gun-metal last night;" he hesitated—I said "You gave 1d. a pound for it"—he said that he did—I said "Fetch it out," and in two or three minutes he hauled it out from behind the counter—I told the other constable to take him—he said "It's a bad job"—there was another bag of metal; it was weighed at the station, and was 64 lbs.—I saw it in the shop—I was present when it was weighed—I said "There is more than 20 lbs. here"—he said "Yes, I bought them both of the same man."
Cross-examined. I know that a marine-store dealer can be punished for buying less than 56 lbs. of metal.
DAVID HORNBY BREMMER . I live at Raglan Road, Plumstead—I am an overlooker in the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich—the gun-metal produced belongs to the Royal Laboratory—I know Ainsworth—he would have access to material of this kind—we have been recently breaking up old shells—the contents of this bag are portions of them—the gun-metal we make is taken from the Control Department to the Laboratory and run into ingots—I cannot say if it is ever sold—none of the labourers have authority to take it away—it is worth 6d. a pound—it was all stored in one place in the Arsenal.
ROBERT LONG . I am a foreman collar-maker at the Royal Arsenal—I have seen those pieces of leather with the Broad Arrow mark on one of them—one has no mark, but is cut from the other—the value of the leather produced is about 4d.—it is used to make cases—the workmen are not allowed to sell it.
Johnson's Defence. I am guilty of receiving the gun-metal, but am ignorant how the two pieces of leather came into my possession. When, the
metal was offered to me; I was depressed and bought it; I do not know how I came to do it. I hope you will consider my wife and family.
JOHNSON— NOT GUILTY .
AINSWORTH received a good character— Six Months' Imprisonment.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
ELIZABETH JEFFERY . I am the wife of William Jeffery, and live at 1, Wellington Place, Old Woolwich Road—I did not know the prisoner before Thursday evening, the 9th November last, when she brought a child to me—she said she had brought the baby to me to nurse—she did not say it was her own, but my daughter had previously told me so—she did not say how long I was to have it, she was to come every Sunday evening to see it, she came the following Sunday evening—she appeared to be very fond of the child—I found I could not manage the baby with my family, and on Sunday, 10th December, I told her to take it away as soon as she could—she said she would come on the" Thursday, the 14th, if she could—she did come and took it away, she said she had got two persons who were going to adopt it, she did not tell me who they were; I asked if it was far off, she said "No, not far off"—she said she was not to see it very often—I did not ask their names—I put on the child's outside clothing, it had been dressed all day—I had dressed it myself except its frock which I put on that night; it had on a chemise, flannel stays, a flannel petticoat with a body to it, a white petticoat, a red cotton frock with a body to it, and a pelisse; it had no roller; the flannel stays were of a double thickness—the child was six weeks old when I had it—it was very well when it was' taken away; it had been very well all day; ft seemed easy—I had not used any needle in dressing it, it was all hooks and buttons, and ties—the prisoner went away with it, just before 7 o'clock—she brought it back again just before 10 o'clock, the child was then screaming and crying very much; she knocked at the door and said "There is something the matter with this child"—I said "I don't know what can be the matter, perhaps the night air has made it ill"—my husband was—in the back-room and hearing the child scream, so he called out to me to take it to the doctor's—the prisoner said she had got some medicine to give it, a teaspoonful every four hours—I saw the medicine in a bottle in her hand, but I did not give it any, none was given to it in my house, the bottle was full, I don't think any had been given—she gave it to me to give to the baby—this is it (produced)—she said she had it from Dr. Cavanagh's, at Deptford—I told the prisoner she had better come with me with the baby to the doctor's, and we both went to Mr. Howell's, he was not in, I waited for him, but the prisoner went home and left me there with the baby—I knew she was in service; she had to go home—I waited till Mr. Howell came in, and he gave me a powder; I then took the child home and began to undress it; it was crying and screaming all his time—
it was an irritable child—the prisoner carried it to the doctor's, when she left I brought it home—I had no needle sticking in my dress, I had not used one that day—when I undressed the child I found something at the side; I thought it was a bone; that its ribs were broken—I felt it through the clothes; I did not see anything till the doctor came—I unfastened its clothes, I sent for Mr. Howell directly, he came and in my presence be took a needle from the body of the child at the spot where I had felt a lump; there was some bleeding, it was fresh done, it was not dry—after the needle was drawn out, I poulticed the side and she was quiet—it was a little drowsy when it came into the house, but it woke directly and screamed very much—on the following Saturday, I was fetched to go to the prisoner with the doctor; I heard her say that she did not do it.
Cross-examined. I had the child under my charge about six weeks—during that time the prisoner gave me some nursery pins in order to prevent the pins running into the child; that was when she first brought the child—needles are used to mend a child's clothes, but I never mended them, they were all mended before they came to me; they were nearly all new; they did not want mending—it had on a new frock that night; it was brought with the other things, but it had not been used—I had not used a needle on this night to sew up the roller band—the stays were tied—the child was often cross; I thought it was ill by the screaming—I did not know Dr. Cavanagh—I never saw him before—I don't know anything about him.
Re-examined. I had put the new frock on myself with the other things—I did not notice any needle sticking in it.
By the Court. When the prisoner took away the child, I did not ex-peot her to come back again—she did not take any clothes with it; she said another time would do for them, she would see me and settle with me another time—when she came back, she said she was too late to meet the persons she was to meet at the station, and she said she would come on the Friday or Saturday evening for it—I had never opened the new frock before it was put on that night—it was folded up with the rest of the clothing in a bag.
ELIZA JEFFREY . I am in service, at 124, St. Donnett's Road, New Cross—the prisoner was in service next door to me—I have known her about five or six months; she was confined last September, at Lewisham workhouse—the baby was put out to nurse to some one; the prisoner seemed in great distress about it, she thought the person was not bringing it" up properly, and she would like my mother to have it—I asked my mother to take it, and she consented to do so, and it went to her on 9th November—one day after that, the prisoner told me that my mother had given her notice to take it away, and she was going to put it in a box and send it to some of her friends at Sudbury, in Suffolk—that was on the Monday as it was taken away on the Thursday—I told her if she did so the child would die, and she would get herself into trouble—she said she did not think it would die—next afternoon she said that two friends had been to see her, and wished to adopt the child—I asked her who they were; she would not tell me—she said they did not live far off—on the following Thursday, I went home, and I was at home when the prisoner brought the child back a little before 10 o'clock—I think it was asleep when it came in, but it woke up as soon as it came in, and began screaming—she was carrying it in the usual way—father wished it to go to the doctor's, and my mother and the
prisoner took it—it was screaming then—the prisoner came back a few minutes after, and said the doctor was not at home, and she had left my mother there with the child—she had to be home by a given time—I went home with her.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in service next door to me—it was the same place where she had been before the child was born—her mistress knew all about it, and took her on again after she came out of the work-house, and she remained there till 16th December—she went to see the child at my mother's every Sunday—I don't know whether she meant it as a joke when she spoke about sending it away in a box—she did not seem joking.
PATRICK CAVANAGH , M.D. I am practising as a surgeon at Lewisham and Deptford—in September I was called to see the prisoner at St. Donnett's Road, where she was in service—I discovered that she was in the family way, and advised her removal to the infirmary—T was sent for by her mistress; she gave her a very good character, and said she would take her back after the affair was over—that was the first occasion on which I was called to the house—I attended the family next door, where Eliza Jeffery lives—after she came out of the infirmary I think I met her in the street, or she came to my surgery—I can't remember where I saw her—I had a few moments' conversation with her—she told me she was all right; nothing was said about the child—on Thursday, 14th December, she brought the child in her arms to my surgery about 9 o'clock—she said it was suffering from convulsion fits—it was screaming, and its screams were uncontrollable—it was not Screaming then; it was quiet—I examined it, and prescribed some medicine for it, and told her to bring it again—she had it in her arms—I did not take it from her—the medicine was made up in my surgery, and she tendered half a sovereign to pay for it—it was chloral and bromide, a mere sedative, supposing the child was suffering from irritation of the spinal cord and brain—my dispenser made it up—I did not notice whether it was full—I have seen the bottle since and tasted it—I have no reason to think that it is anything else than the prescription—it tastes exactly as it would taste—I should think none had been given; there might have been a dose—it might evaporate if the bottle was frequently uncorked, or it might not have been full when it was made up—I told her to give it every four hours, and to begin directly she went home—she did not give it any in my surgery.
THOMAS HOWELL . I am a surgeon, practising at Matilda Place, East Greenwich—on Thursday, 14th December, I was sent for to the house of Mrs. Jeffery—I had seen her at my surgery previously about 10 o'clock, with the child—it was suffering from some pain that I could not at all discover—it was screaming—I gave her a composing powder to take away—the powder gave it no relief, and I was sent for about 10 o'clock the same evening; it was then screaming—I could account in no way for the violent screaming—finding no appreciable cause, I ordered it to be stripped—it was in Mrs. Jeffery's arms—I then examined it, and found between its ribs a small projection, at least a small spot, as if something had been inserted—I placed my finger over it, and while the child screamed the needle pressed against my finger; it was on the left side, between the sixth and seventh ribs—I then made an incision, and the violence of the scream forced the needle out about half an inch; the other part was held very tenaciously indeed by the integuments beneath, and I extracted it
with some little difficulty, comparatively speaking, with my fingers—the needle was about an inch and a half long—it was not immediately in the region of the heart; if it had been an inch longer it must have gone directly into the heart—it had entered perfectly straight, as if it had been thrust in, at right angles with the body—I did not feel anything of the needle before the child was completely stripped—I did not make any minute examination of any of the clothes, except when it was stripped, I saw some fresh blood—that would come from the aperture; the needle was closely embedded in the skin; it must have been forced in with considerable violence—I could not have seen any hole, that would not have been possible—I cannot conceive how it could be possible for the needle to be pushed in through the clothes; it would have gone in the direction of the ribs, and gone in a slanting direction into the integuments—that was the opinion I formed at the time, having extracted a number of needles in my practice, and I never met with one passing in that direction; it has always been in a sloping direction in accidental cases—in my opinion this could not have been an accident; if the needle had been pushed through the clothes I cannot account for its being embedded right to the head in the skin—I feel certain it never could have entered so deeply if it had gone through the clothes first, because the point of the needle must have entered the diaphragm, or it never could have been held so tenaciously, and the screaming of the child would have prevented the needle passing so deeply, because the moment it was released it sprang out to the extent of half an inch—I do not think the needle could have been pushed through all the clothes and been in the position in which I found it—the clothes must have been raised up and the needle put in underneath—it had on a roller tied with tapes, the usual band that children wear—the needle was underneath that—the band could be raised sufficiently high to put the needle in; the clothes were so loose that before I had to strip it they could be raised half the width of the band; they were loosely tied; the only thing in the shape of a pin was a brown pin in the napkin—I examined carefully to see if there was any other needle about the clothes, and there was nothing of the kind—I communicated with the police within half an hour, the conviction on my mind was so clear—I heard at the police-court the expression of opinion from Dr. Cavanagh, but I still hold my own opinion.
Cross-examined. My qualification is surgeon and apothecary, I do not know whether you will find it there (the register) or not—I left the Army some time ago, and have had no settled residence till lately—I had no opportunity till lately—my residence here has been very recent—I did not enter it before I began to practice because, I had not settled down Permanently, nor have I done so yet, but I am regularly practising there—I may have had an opportunity, but I did not embrace it; it is usual for the office to send a printed form to be filled up, I have written to them but I have not received one—I have not taken further steps to register myself it is useless till the end of the year—I have a general practice—I dare say I have 300 patients; perhaps 400 or 500—I entered another man's practice—the child was dressed when I went in and I caused it to be stripped—I do not know whether the clothes were loosened, they were untied, but not off—I say that the needle could not be put in by the band being tightened—what they did to loosen the band I do not know—I cannot tell whether it had been loosened when I saw it; in the
course of my great experience I have never known of a needle entering into a child's heart and not causing death—I do not know that on many occasions such a thing has happened—I never heard of a needle being extracted from the heart, and if I did, I should not believe it; I heard Dr. Cavanagh make the statement, but not upon his own experience, it is the experience of another that he states—I never read of it, and I have read as many medical works as any medical man ever read—I never heard of a case where a needle has entered the heart and had been extracts d—great force must have been employed here, it must have been a strong thrust with the hand, because a needle will not enter so readily into the integuments as people imagine—I could push it in with my finger and thumb so that it would be covered by the skin—you could do it easier with a thimble on—I should not like to attempt to do it with my bare thumb—I will venture to swear that more force could be applied with the finger and thumb than by the child being pressed against the mother's breast, and a child's bowels would not be likely to be against a woman's breast.
Re-examined. My certificate was in 1862—I registered when I was in the Army; I was in the register four years ago—I am down here as M.R.C.S., and I am a Licentiate of the Apothecaries' Company—I cannot suggest any position of a needle in the mother's breast, it would have entered her breast quite as easily as the child—I cannot suggest any position in which it might be so as to be driven into the child—it was quite at the left side, between the 6th and 7th ribs—no medical man in his senses would cut into the chest to search for a needle.
By THE JURY. When the child was first brought to my surgery I did not examine its clothes for the purpose of seeing if they were tight, but I did examine them—I was able to turn the clothes up 1 1/2 or 2 inches, and when I got to the house I ordered it to be stripped.
PATRICK CAVANAGH (re-examined). I have heard Mr. Howell's evidence, in my opinion this is perfectly consistent with accident—if the needle was in the clothes of the mother or nurse; if it was in the shawl of the mother I can understand it being driven in by the arm of the mother in fondling the child, and if it once entered the skin I can fancy it being driven to very readily by the mother's arm; or if the needle was between the mother and the child it might be driven in by the stay bone of the mother—it would run through the dress and right into the body of the child, they are very common accidents; there are no more common accidents—they have come under my experience scores of times during my practice—why on earth should not a needle run in at an obtuse as well as at an acute angle?—supposing the needle was in the mother's shawl pointing inwards or outwards, what is to prevent it going in at a right angle or at an obtuse angle—I suppose it to be pointing towards the child, but in the matter of an accident it might be any way—in the course of my experience I have seen a needle sticking into the dress of a mother, head first; I have seen needles in every position looking inwards or outwards—a needle may get into a woman's dress without being put there at all, it may get there accidentally—about a month ago I took a needle out of a woman's belly pointing inwards, it was head outwards—I brought Mr. Colt to the Magistrate to give evidence, but his evidence was refused by the Magistrate, I don't know why; he is not here now—a month or six weeks ago I took a needle out of a woman's body which was driven up home with
the head under the skin—in my opinion it would enter as readily into the inter costal muscles as into the stomach, because of the tenderness of the muscles.
By MR. A. METCALFE. It is quite possible that the needle ran obliquely at first and that it might be driven in a different direction afterwards—if it had been driven at first obliquely into the clothes and once got into the muscles it would be more likely to go direct than obliquely.
JAMES DAWKINS (Police Inspector R). I took the prisoner at St. Donnett's Road, New Cross, where she was in service, about 10 o'clock p.m. on Saturday, 16th December—I told her I would charge her with running a needle into the left side of her child and also with procuring a mixture, which was supposed to contain poison, for the purpose of destroying its life—I had received information from Dr. Howell and had seen this mixture—it is alleged to contain poison (produced), it was brought to me at the police-station by Dr. Howell, on the 16th; that was the first time I saw him—the prisoner said "I did not hear it, its clothes were new"—I had not said a word about the clothes—I told her that the doctor had told me that on it being taken to his surgery the child was full of intoxicating spirit—she said "The child was crying in the street and a lady opened a door and asked me to come in and she gave it some whiskey"—I asked her where the lady lived—s he said "Near New Cross Station"—on the way to the station I gave her the opportunity of finding the house—she pointed it out, and I took her there, and in her presence the lady stated that she gave her a bottle with a quantity of whiskey in it, and a spoon, but how much whiskey the prisoner gave to the child she did not know—the prisoner did not take the whiskey away with her—I said "The nurse informed me that you had taken the child away on Thursday evening for good, where were you going to take it to?"—she said "I was going to take it to some friends at Peckham"—I asked their names and addresses—she said that she did not know—at the station, when the charge was read over, she said that she was going to take it to a lady who asked her for it before she was confined, and that she was not to tell her name by any means.
Cross-examined. A lady has written to the Magistrate from reading the case in the papers wishing to adopt the child—before I questioned her at her mistress' house I cautioned her that whatever answers she gave would be used in evidence against her—the answer about the clothing was in the mistress' presence, the others were on the way to the station.
Re-examined. The offer made by a lady was since the committal, within the last fortnight.
THOMAS HOWELL (re-examined). I said to the prisoner "There is something deleterious in this medicine"—I did not use the word "poison"—from it having so strong a taste of medicine which is deleterious, I consider that if the child had taken it, it would in all probability have destroyed its life, if it had taken the whole of it.
By THE COURT. If it had taken a teaspoonful at a time in those teaspoons which they possessed, which were small dessert-spoons, and it had been followed up every four hours as directed, it would have destroyed the child—there are 54 grains of chloral hydrate in the prescription—those large spoons will hold two teaspoonsful, if not more—I say that a tablespoon filled up would have killed the child.
By MR. AVORY. The fact of the spoons being so large induced me to furnish the information to the inspector—I immediately forbade it being
given; I said "If you follow that up with those spoons the child will sleep itself away"—I had no knowledge where it came from when I made those remarks, and I did not know that she had been to Dr. Cavanagh—I suggest the same thing now, for if it was given according to that measure the child would gradually have slept itself away; the first dose would have sent it to sleep, and the next would have increased it—the ordinary teaspoons would not be safe—the ordinary dose is 1 grain for a child a month old—the child was scarcely two months old, and it would get 5 grains in each dose.
By the Court. If they had given a teaspoonful, as directed, every four hours, there would have been 4 grains in each dose, and that would send the child into such a sleep from which it would never awake—I think a tea-spoonful every four hours would cause the child's death, but I do not mean an ordinary sized teaspoon.
Cross-examined. An ordinary teaspoon will contain one-twelfth part of this bottle, but the spoon I saw in the room Was the only one they had, and they would have used that.
Q. If you had seen a soup-ladle, I suppose you would have thought they would have used that? A. No; perhaps you might think so, but I should not this is one of the most uncertain and the most dangerous medicines that can be given; it is given in convulsions, but this child had no convulsions.
By the Jury. I came to the conclusion that there was enough to poison the child, not if given as prescribed, but according to their measure—I read the label on the bottle, but I did not know where it came from. (The label did not state any chemist's name.) Dr. Cavanagh never looked at the child, he knew nothing about it only from the mother's testimony; if the child had been in convulsions I should have said by all means give that medicine.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
HERBERT SAFFORD . I am clerk to the Southwark police-court—I was present on 21st December at the hearing of a charge brought by the prisoner against George Drake—I took notes of Hamilton's evidence, these are my notes (produced)—the prosecutor was in custody on 28th December and the prisoner was re-called—the case was again remanded till 5th January and the prisoner was again re-called; he signed the deposition. (Reading: "I live at 26, Swan Lane, Rotherhithe. I am a contractor. In October last I shipped 30 tons of asphalte sand from a schooner into the defendant's barge at Pickle Herring Wharf. I was to give the prisoner 25s. He was to deliver it to me at East Lane. Three or four days after the barge came to East Lane; the sand was aboard. I told him to bring his barge alongside of mine and moor her there. He said 'I shall not bring it ashore until I like.' He had no claim upon me. He swore and cursed at me. He never brought it ashore, and I have not seen the sand since. The value of the sand was 7l. 10s. I have been looking for him. A month ago I took a constable to his house. He wanted to take a knife to toe.
Cross-examined. I produced the receipt I had from the captain. You
did not bring the barge ashore. I did not ask you to communicate with the parish about the sand. I did pay 2l. 5s. to the captain and this is the receipt (produced). * * * Re-called. The sand that was in the barge came oat of the Mary Ann. I won't swear whether it was that vessel or another, as I was working two vessels at the time, and I won't swear which vessel it came out of. The Mary Ann was at Pickle Herring Wharf. I told him there were two ships there, he could take it out of either. The captain of the Cestrian gave me 1l. 10s. to take the sand away * * * The value of the barge work to take it away would be about 15s. I was to give him 25s. for doing it, that would leave me 5s. I did not tell him which vessel to go to. I did not know the name of the Cestrian. * * * The captain of the Mary Ann is Brown.") (The receipt referred to was as fellows: "Bought of Captain Brown, 30 tons of rough sand at 1s. 6d. per ton, off the ship Mary Ann, clear of discharging out of the said ship. 2l. 5s. Oct. 6th, 1876.")
GEORGE CHARLES DRAKE . I am an apprentice to Mr. Saunders, a waterman and lighterman, and am the step-son of Emanuel Hamilton—I live at 51, Drummond Road, Bermondsey, with my mother, who is living apart from ray step-father—before Christmas last the prisoner gave me in custody for stealing 30 tons of sand from the Mary Ann—the summons was heard and discharged—I heard the prisoner sworn as a witness—in September last, on going home to tea in the evening, a man was waiting to see me; he said that there were 25 tons of sand at Pickle Herring Tier which was to be brought down to East Lane in the morning, and I was—to get it into a barge, as it belonged to the Bermondsey Vestry, and he said Mr. Ford, of the Bermondsey Vestry, would pay me 25s.—the next morning, about 4 o'clock, I went to Pickle Herring Tier and saw the Cestrian, with some sand in her; I moored the barge alongside and left for three or four hours—I afterwards went to see about it and found the people who had loaded it had put the sand all on one side, and the barge was sinking; it did sink on the Saturday—I employed two men to get the barge up; the ship was moved on the Saturday night to enable us to do it—the sand was put into another barge and taken down to East Lane—many people knew of the barge having sunk; I did not tell Hamilton, but he must have known of it—on taking the sand to East Lane the Vestry would not receive it—I had the sand laying about for some time at the Millwall Docks; I sold it for 15s.—I had to supply the barge—I did not tell Hamilton what I had done with the sand, as he never asked me, although I saw him every day—people are paid for taking sand away from ships—I have taken some out of the steamers for the General Steam Navigation Company—it is not true that Hamilton called upon me with a policeman, nor that 1 threatened to strike him with a knife—I saw Hamilton on the wharf when the sand was lying at East Lane—I do not know Captain Brown.
Cross-examined. This happened about 14th September—the instructions came from Hamilton—I had been working for Hamilton for about nine years, except during the last twelve months, but I have worked with him since about nine months ago—I took the ashes out of the steamers for him to Millwall, the Surrey Canal, and other places—my mother has been separated from Hamilton about six months—the money I got for the ashes I gave to Mr. Hamilton—I did not give him the 15s.—I was not at any other time employed by Hamilton to remove sand—there were three vessels at the tier when I got the sand—I did not see the Mary Ann—I do not know the names of the vessels—I was three hours loading the sand—Hamilton
gave me into the custody of two policemen at 81, Drummond Road, the week before Christmas.
EDWIN WILLIAM DRAKE . I am a brother of the last witness and live in the same house—I went with him to get some ballast out of a ship at Pickle Herring Tier-another of my brothers went with us-three or four ships were there, I do not know their names except the Cestrian, from which we were to get the ballast-our barge sank in two or three days, we got it up and took the sand to East Lane-while by brother went to the Vestry I remained on the barge, and Hamilton came there, I asked him what my brother was to do with the sand, he would not tell me, but used a vulgar expression; I went with my brother to Millwall, he paid 3l. to get the barge up, I did not tell that to Hamilton, nor that the barge had sunk, I do not know the Mary Ann.
Cross-examined. I did not notice many people about, when I saw Hamilton, at the wharf—I called out to him—it was in the morning I think, but I am not sure-my brother was there, but did not see Hamilton, I told my brother what Hamilton had said to me, I only saw Hamilton for a few minutes, I live at home with my brother and assist him in the barge work; I was with him when the barge sank, I do not remember the day of the month when I saw Hamilton, it was not in the beginning of September, because the barge sank on the 24th-my brother bought another one and I made him out the receipt; I can read and write.
JAMES MIDDLETON (Policeman R). I had the conduct of this case from the Southwark police-court—I have searched the Custom House books, but do not find any ship called the Mary Ann, commanded, by Captain Brown.
Cross-examined. I cannot say that no such ship has ever been in the port of London—I searched the general ledger; I asked if all the ships were in that book, and was told they were; I cannot say if there are any exceptions—the pilot is here.
JOSEPH EVEREST . I live at 180, Tooley-Street, and a waterman, lighter-man, and pilot, I work in my own boat—I know the ships that come in and go out—I know that in September-and October, no Mary Ann came into the port of London, or any Captain Brown—I know the Cestrian well—she had been discharging onions when I fetched her from the wharf down to Pickle Herring Tier, to get her ballast out—that was about 21st September—I had charge of her till her ballast was out—I applied to Hamilton, to remove the ballast, I told him there were 25 tons of freshwater sand, and asked if it would do for him as it seemed good sand—he said that he would go and get a sample, which he did—the captain would pay him for it—the captain's name is Hughes—one of the other vessels laying-at the tier was named Elizabeth—I do not know the names of the other, there were only three ships there at the time—I well remember the two lads taking the ballast from the Cestrian, I was at breakfast when told that the barge had sunk; I am positive there was no Mary Ann there.
Cross-examined. I keep a book in which I enter every ship I am paid for—I cannot tell the names of vessels for which I am not paid, but I am sure the Mary Ann was not there, and I don't believe the timber has grown yet that would ever build her.
GUILTY . He received a good character— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MEAD conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. W. SLEIGH and GILL appeared for Clements, and MESSRS. LYON and PUROELL for Palmer.
GEORGE MORTLOCK . I am a clerk to King, Covell, k Co., meat Salesmen, of the Central Meat Market, Smithfield—on 27th February last, Palmer called there and bought two sheep at 7 1/2 d. lb., which came to 3l. 11s. 3d. he offered me in payment this cheque (produced) for 7l., on the London Discount Alliance, drawn by Frederick Clement in favour of Palmer—I gave him 3l. 8s. 9d. change, and he or his porter took the sheep away—I paid the cheque into the bank the same day, and it was returned marked "N.S."—I then wrote to Palmer but received no answer—I parted with the cash simply because I had a reference to Davis in the market—he said that he had given him cheques, and if Mr. Davis had taken his cheques there was no reason why I should not-if I had thought the cheque was bad I should not have been satisfied with Davis' reference.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I did not recognise the name of Clement as the drawer of the cheque—I knew there was such a bank as the London Discount Alliance, but I did not know its character-unless I had had a reference from Mr. Davis, or some person who I knew, I should have hesitated in parting with my money—it was Mr. Davis making that communication to me which induced me to part with the meat, otherwise I should not have done it.
Cross-examined by MR. LYON. I did not sell the sheep, I only took the money and gave him the change and a ticket to take away the meat—I did not see Mr. Davis about the cheque, I sent one of the men to see him.
JOHN HARMAN . I am an undertaker, of Brixton Hill-my mother wished to dispose of two cows, and on 27th March the two prisoners called—I asked them 29l. for the cows-Palmer spoke first; Clement stood a little distance away—they came again next day, and Palmer asked if I was going to take the money he had offered, which was 27l.—I said that I could not, but I would take 28l.-Clement called out from a distance "Can you make a deal, governor?"—I said "No, he is too hard"—they went away together in a cart, and came again on Friday afternoon together, and I sold them the cows for 27l. 10s. Palmer paid me 1l. deposit, and on the Monday evening they called for the cows and took them away—about two months afterwards I saw Palmer in Camberwell New Road, and said "How about this cheque?"—he said "Has not Mr. Clement paid it?"—I said "No, he has not"—he said "If you will let it rest I will speak to Clement about it"—that was all that passed—I have never got the money.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Mr. Chivers was present on 27th March—I had asked him to find a purchaser—there were three persons besides me—I do not think Clement spoke at all on the first day; that was when I asked Palmer 29l. and he offered 27l.-Palmer went away dissatisfied—Clement might on that day have been an occasional companion of Palmers—when they came the next day Palmer began the conversation alone and Clement stood some way off-Palmer asked me, without speaking to Clement at all, whether I would reduce the price to 27l.-Clement took no part in the bargain, and did not seem in any hurry—that was all he had to do with
it—I did not appeal to him—I considered Palmer was the person buying the cows—I did not see whether Clement came when the cows were taken away, I was in bed—I dealt with Palmer because he was introduced by Chivers.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Palmer came and paid my wife 17l. on the Monday, and the cows were removed the same evening.
Re-examined. Both the prisoners went into the shed to see the cows, and they were there five or ten minutes—they talked together about the cows—I know that Clement is a cowkeeper-Palmer did not say for whom the cows were.
EMILY HARMAN . I am the wife of the last witness—on 3rd April the prisoners came to the house together-my husband was in bed-Palmer said "I have brought the money for the cows I have bought"—he gave me this cheque for 10l. (Drawn by Clement, on 3rd April, in favour of Palmer) and 16l. 10s. in gold-Clement handed the cheque to Palmer who gave it to me—they came together in the evening for the cows—the cheque was paid away in the usual way and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer."
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. It was on Friday that my husband received 1l. deposit; I don't know the day of the month—I did not see—the cows fetched away, and I do not know of my own knowledge whether Clement was there or not; it might have been Mr. Jones or Mr. Brown who took them away for what I know—I do not believe any person was called at the police-court who saw the cows taken away; all I know is that they were taken away by someone.
Re-examined. The prisoners called three times together about the cows, and I saw them twice.
GEORGE HARMAN . I am the brother of John Harman-my sister handed me this cheque about the end of April, and I palled on Palmer and told him I had brought the cheque which had been sent from the bank, marked "Refer to drawer," and that it had been given for my mother's cows—he said "Oh, has not that been paid"—I said "No, it has not been paid; you need not appear strange about it, for I have heard that you have had other cheques returned in the same way"—he said "I am very sorry; I took the cheque from Clement, I will see him about it"—he said that Chivers was going to the City, and Clement said "I wish you would take this cheque into the City to pay it to somebody," and Chivers said "No; I had rather have gold"—I said "I have 10l. in gold, and will oblige you with that," and that he gave the gold to Clement, who gave him the cheque—he said "I will go down and see him about it to-morrow morning," and an appointment was made to meet him at his house at 11 o'clock next morning—on the next morning, about 10.15, I went to the Elephant and Castle public-house, where I saw Clement and Palmer, with others—I said to Palmer "Oh, you are not at home, I will save you the journey now I am down here; will you speak to Clement"—he said "Wait a few moments; go outside," and I went outside alone-Clement came out first, and went across the road to his own yard which adjoins his house, and in a few minutes Palmer came out—I said "Now, Palmer, Clement has gone over the road; what about the cheque?"—he said "Well, we will go over and see him"—we went over, and Palmer spoke to Clement outside-Clement said "Oh, you have come about that cheque, have you; you make my name stink about that"—I said "I have not made your name stink; I think it
stinks already"—he said "I hear that you are going to set the lawyers to work, I don't care for all the b—lawyers in hell or out of hell; take it to the police-court and see what good you will get there; my pass-book will prove that I have paid over 300l. into the bank since that cheque was drawn—take it to the County Court, you will get no good there, we have a bill of sale on our goods"—he made me an offer to pay 5l. on the next Friday, and 5l. the following Friday, and said "If you don't like that you can go to b—y, and if you don't like that, if you come bothering here you might get your head punched"—I called on the following Friday and saw Clement; as he was apparently going out—I said "I have called in reference to the cheque for that 5l. you promised me"—he said "I have not got it now; I am going into the City to get it, and I will forward it to you by post," and he took my address—I said that I hoped he would do so to save trouble, and he said that he would, but he did not—I then issued a summons in the County Court and obtained judgment.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. When Palmer told me that this cheque had been given to him in Chiver's presence by Clement, my sister-in-law had not told me that she saw Clement give the cheque to Palmer—it was about 10.15 that I saw Clement at the Elephant and Castle—he was rather abusive, and said that I had made his name stink—I don't remember his mentioning the name of Chivers—I did not say anything at the police—court about his saying "We have got a bill of sale on our goods," but at the County Court I did—he told me I ought to have presented the cheque within a shorter time than it had been—he did not say that if it had been presented before, it would have been paid—it was dated 3rd April—I cannot be certain whether the conversation was the last day or two of April or the beginning of May-Clement did not say "Why it is a long time since this transaction took place; the cheque should have been presented in due course"—he did say that it should have been presented earlier; I have refreshed my memory now—I don't remember saying "Oh, that be bothered, it could not be presented because we could Dot change if—he did not say "I am not going to be talked to like that, I have nothing to do with the transaction"—he did not say that it wag not his transaction, or that it had not got anything to do with him-Palmer stood close during the whole of the interview-Clement did not turn round to Palmer and say "You must look to the man who purchased the cows"—I will not undertake to swear that he did not say that I must look to Palmer—I don't remember his mentioning a word about Palmer—he said that he would pay it himself, 5l. next Friday and 5l. the Friday afterwards I did not call Clement a cheat—I never mentioned a lawyer—he told me I might do what I liked, but he did not add "The transaction is none of mine"—I did say "You ought to see to this matter being settled," or suggest that he was bound to see the cheque paid, but he made the offer—I went to the Elephant and Castle to see for Palmer, because I understood that Palmer was in the habit of frequenting the house—I did not hear that Clement used the house, but I saw them together there—I called in there in case Palmer was not at home; I did not want a fruitless journey—I of course looked to Palmer at that time to get me the money.
Cross-examined by MR. LYON. Although I did not know that Clement frequented the Elephant and Castle, I knew that it was opposite his residence—I called at the Elephant and Castle three-quarters of an hour before I was due at Palmer's house-if I had not found him there I should have
gone on to his house—he did not say "Do not speak of it here;" but he asked me to step outside—he did not introduce Clement there, but I knew Clement, because I had been told that he wore a blue apron—I accepted Clement's offer of 5l. on Friday, and since that time and prior to 8th November I made no application to Palmer verbally or in writing-my sister tried to change the cheque, not my sister-in-law who has been examined—it had been paid away—I think it had been returned from the bank a day or two before my sister came to me about it, and I saw Palmer about it the next morning—he expressed his surprise—I think this was at the latter end of April.
WILLIAM LOVE GROVE . I am a cow-keeper, of 8, Denmark Road, Camber-well—in May last I had two cows for sale-Palmer called on 9th May and agreed to buy them for 33l. 10s., and gave me 30s. deposit—he called next day and took one of the cows away, and gave me a cheque for 16l. drawn by Frederick Clement, in part payment—he took the other cow away on the following Monday, and on the Tuesday I had the cheque returned, upon which I sued Palmer in the County Court, and got judgment, upon which he came and offered to pay 4l. down and 4l. a month—he paid the first 4l., but he did not keep up his payments—I got a judgment summons against him, and he agreed to pay 15s. a month—he paid one month, and never paid any more—on the same morning that I received the cheque back, 16th May, I saw Palmer—I said "I have come to see you about the cheque, which has been returned"—he said "It is a great shame; a party came in and bought a joint of meat of me, and I gave him change for the cheque."
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. He added "I will bring you the money this evening or to-morrow morning—he did not represent that he would get it from anyone else—I called on him several times in June, but did not see him—he never referred me to Clement—he did not appear in the County Court to defend my action, and it went by default—he paid the 4l. through the Court—he afterwards asked for time to somebody who represented me, and paid 10s. more into Court, but never paid any more—I know him as a butcher, and at the time believed him to be a respectable man, but I had never had dealings with him before—I took the cheque knowing him to be a respectable man, and not because of the cheque—I knew the name of Clement, and knew where "he was carrying on business, but it was not because of the name of Clement on the cheque that I took it-if Palmer had presented anybody else's cheque I daresay I should have taken it in the same way.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I do not think Palmer was arrested before the second instalment of 4l. became due—I did not understand him to mean that Clement was the party who purchased the meat and gave him the cheque—he said "A party bought meat of me and I gave him the change."
Re-examined. The County Court proceedings were pending about a month, and I think the case was heard about 22nd June—we got a short order—the 4l. was paid about a month afterwards, and the 10s. much later.
ARTHUR STEARN . I am a meat salesman, of 22, Charterhouse Lane—about 20th July Palmer came and purchased meat of me amounting to 2l. 11s. 8d. he paid me this 7l. cheque (This was drawn by Clement in favour of Palmer.) My son gave me the change—I paid the-cheque into
the bank, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I afterwards saw Palmer in the meat market, and asked him if he was going to pay the money for the cheque—I said "If you don't I shall take further proceedings"—he said "I will call in a day or so and pay it"—it has never been paid.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I have known Palmer as a tradesman dealing in the market—he always paid me up to this time—I do not think I had had cheques from him before, but I should not have objected to take them—a cheque with any name on it would have been just the same to me, because I always found him to be a respectable man-when I spoke to him afterwards, he did not throw the blame on Clement; Clement's name was never mentioned.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I had only had one or two transactions with Palmer before this—he said to me "You have known me a good many years," and I said "Yes, and never had any bother about any money with you."
JOHN MAY . I am a meat salesman, of 21, Charterhouse Lane—on 5th August, Palmer, who I knew before, called on me and purchased meat to the value of 30s. or 35s.—he gave me in payment this cheque for 6l., drawn by Clement—I said, "Is this cheque from the same person as you gave me one before?"—he said "Yes, it is all right;" and I gave him the change—I did not know who the drawer was—I sent it through the bank, and in two or three days it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—two or three days afterwards Clement was pointed out to me in the market, and I told him I thought I had a cheque of his—he asked me to let him see it; I did so, and he said "Yes"—I said "I think there is some mistake about it, perhaps you will cash it"—he said "No; Palmer ought to have paid the money in for this cheque; I saw him in the market a few minutes ago; I will go and bring him over to you;" but he never came back—I saw Palmer a few days afterwards, who said that it was Clement's cheque, and he must meet it, and he would go and find him and bring him to me—I did not see Palmer again till he was in custody—I had had cash transactions with him before, and two cheques of Clement's.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Those two cheques were honoured—Clement said "He had no business to have issued the cheque till he paid in the money he had promised the night before"—I may not have mentioned at the police-court that Palmer said that he would fetch Clement, but he did say so, and I said "Very good"—he said "I will see you next morning"—up to that time I believed Palmer to be a straightforward dealing man, and I should have cashed any cheque he produced.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Having had two cheques before, which were cashed, gave me confidence—I paid this cheque in on the same day or the following Monday; I can't say positively—I mostly pay in cheques the same day—I have known Palmer ten or twelve years as a butcher in the Meat Market, and have had several cash transactions with him, both large and small—he bought largely years ago-this is the first bother I have had about money with him.
CHARLES MORGAN . I am an egg and provision merchant, of 29, Pimlico Road-during last year I had dealings with Clement, and in August last he was indebted to me 90l., and gave me this cheque for 20l. on account-we paid it into our bank on 10th August, and it was returned, marked "Refer to drawer"—I saw Clement on the following Wednesday, and said, "This
has been returned, shall I pay it in again?"—he said "Do"—I paid it in again with the same result as before—about three weeks or a months before that we had received another cheque from him for the same amount, which was honoured; but two months before a' cheque had been returned, and Clement sent the cash to meet it—we have received no payment for this cheque in August.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. We have had eight or ten cheques from him and all have been paid up to this one—I know Pitt, but do not know that Clement dealt with him—I called on Clement in the way of business, and a trade connection sprang up between us, and not withstanding that one cheque had been returned which he took up in cash, I was perfectly satisfied with my dealings with him—he did not say that trade was slack—I received other cheques from him after the one for which I received the cash, and they have all been honoured—I find that things are cheaper in Summer than in Winter—he owed me for some goods when I supplied him with these goods, and this cheque was to go off the old account—I had told him that I could not go on unless I had a cheque—it was given to me in August on the day it bears date-when I had, served him about a month I made an agreement with him to give him fourteen days' credit, and that has been my custom up to the present time—I delivered the last lot of goods myself and his daughter gave me the cheque on delivery.
Re-examined. Clement owes me 90l. now.
WALTER KEY . I carry on-business with Edmund Eustace, at 262, Meat Market, as Campbell & Eustace—I know Palmer; he came there on 11th August and gave me this cheque for 5l. signed by a man named Load—he owed me 3l. 17s. 9d., and I gave him the change the cheque was returned to me marked "N. S."—I afterwards saw him and said "The cheque you gave me has been returned"—he said that he would bring me' the money in the morning but he did not—I went to him in the afternoon; he did not give me a cheque then, but on the 16th he gave me this cheque (produced) drawn by Clement in his favour, for 5l—I paid it into the bank and" it was returned marked "N. S."—I saw Palmer again and told" him his other, cheque had come back; he said "I have paid the money to Clement for the cheque and it ought not to have come back"—I saw Clement about 20th August and said that I had a cheque of his which was returned—he said that I took the-cheque from Palmer and I must go to him for the money; but first he said "Why has it come back?"—I said "Because there is not sufficient to meet it"—he said "How do you know that go out of my shop"—I said "What am I to do?"—he said "That has nothing to do with me; if you chose to trust such people as Palmer you must pat up with the consequences," and pushed me out of the shop—I have not received my money.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. I had received cheques from Palmer drawn by Clement, and they had all been honoured except one—I did not speak to Palmer about it, he spoke to me and said "If you take that cheque back again to the bank I will see that the money is there""—I did take it back and the money was there to meet it—I saw Palmer about the 5l. cheque of 15th August; I did not tell him how very brusquely I had been treated by Clement—I told him that if he did not pay me the money I should put him in the County Court, and he said that he would pay the cheque, and gave me 10s.; that was for my loss of time and to prevent
my taking proceedings—he did not give me 2l. 10s. on account of that very cheque; he owed me some money besides and he gave me. 2l. of that, but he gave me nothing but 10s. off this cheque—he gave me the 2l. after I told him that the cheque was dishonoured, and then he said "Now, if you don't take proceedings I will pay the cheque in full and give you half a sovereign for your trouble"—I found Clement at his shop on 20th August, he was very angry—I had a biggish man with me but Clement turned us both out—he did not say "Palmer had no right to pass that cheque unless he put the money to my account"—he did not speak as if he was annoyed with Palmer, but as if he was annoyed with me—he did not appear annoyed at the money not being paid in to meet the cheque—I may have been in the shop ten minutes—I did not say "I shan't go out I shall stay as long as I choose," nor that I should stay till I got the money.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I paid the cheque of 15th August, into my bank on 15th August, into Wednesday-Palmer said "I don't understand the reason, I have paid the money to Clement for the cheque, it ought not to have come back"—Palmer had dealt largely with me before, and he has always paid me; I have had no difficulty—I daresay I have received 40l. in cheques from Palmer—they were mostly drawn by Clement, but some were by other people-when I sent this cheque in again it was paid.
CHARLES SAMUEL DEIGHTON . I am manager of the London Discount Alliance Company, Limited, 3, Chancery Lane—I know the prisoners—Clement opened an account with us in September, 1863, and about eighteen months ago, he commenced entering on the slips different sums which the sums paid in were to meet—he indicated the cheques that were likely to be presented for the amount paid in, and when I saw a direction on the paying in slip I always acted upon it—I produce the ledger—we have a book for the overdraft account which is not here, but this (produced) is a copy of it in my writing-during 1876, Clement's account was generally overdrawn, and on February 25th, when a cheque was given the account was overdrawn, 28l. 2s. 7d., but 6l. was paid in on the 25th—this (produced) is the slip for that, there is no direction upon that—a cheque for 6l. was •presented on the same day, and that 6l. was devoted to it—the next sum was paid in on the 6th, 5l. and a cheque for 5l. was presented the same day, and was met by that 5l.—the next was 30l., on the 28th; the directions on the slip are "29l. coming in to-day"—two cheques were presented that day, amounting to 22l., and they were paid—on the 29th, 18l. 0s. 2l. was paid in—the directions on that slipare "Mr. Hanson to-day"—the same amount was drawn out that day—on 3rd April, the account was 26l. 17s. overdrawn, it had been constantly overdrawn since February—on 3rd April, 12l. was paid in, and the special direction on the slip is "Two cheques in favour of Mr. Palmer"—that conveyed the idea that two cheques would be presented, and two cheques were presented that day—I should not devote the money to any other purpose than that for which it was paid in—we should have refused to pay other cheques, we should write "Refer to drawer"—on the 5th April, 18l. was paid in-this special direction on the slip, "Mr. Harrison," is in Clement's writing—the amount drawn out is "Harrison, 18l."—on the 7th 16l. was paid in, the direction is "Mr. Dowding, for milk," and on that day 16l., in the name of Dowding, was drawn—on 8th April 10l. was paid in, the special direction is "Mr. Palmer," and on that day I find paid out "Palmer, 10l."—on 9th May the
account was 25l. 6s. 6d. overdrawn—on 8th May 31? was paid in, the direction is "Mr. Palmer, 8l.; Mr. Dowding, 22l. 3s."—on the 11th 38?. Was paid in, the special direction is "Harrison, 12l.; Morgan, 23l. odd," and I paid out those sums on that day the next is 19l. 1s. on the 29th, the direction is "Dowding, 18;. odd, for milk, and 18l. 13s. 6d. was paid to dowding—I wrote this letter of 30th May in consequence of two cheques being presented, and I wrote another letter on 23rd June—I took press copies of them, these are them (produced)—I hare torn out of the book for convenience, by Messrs. Wontner's directions, all the letters addressed to Clement—the correspondence extended over several letter-books—the correspondence commences on 6th October, 1873, the general purport of it is complaints as to the prisoner's account-this is a letter of 23rd June, 1876. (This was addressed to Clement, stating that his acceptance for 46l. would fall due tomorrow.) That was a bill for money advanced given to my late brother on 19th February, 1876; it had two months to run and it was virtually renewed, but a fresh bill was not given, it was held over—the account was then overdrawn 28l.13s. 4d. at the expiration of the two months the account was overdrawn 27l. 11s.-looking at this letter of 6th July, I see that 46l. was then due to us for advances—I produce a copy of the advance ledger; the greater part of the original ledger is in my writing, but not the whole of it-sometimes the entries were made by my brother and sometimes by me—I do not know whether this entry was made by me—there is not an entry in the copy of the advance made to the prisoner on 19th February, it was a renewal—on 20th July the account was 19l. 5s. 1d. overdrawn, it had been continually overdrawn from 19th May—on 18th July 38l. 10s. was paid in, and on 19th there was paid out Dowding, 22l. 1s.; Hanson, 15l. 7s. 4d.; the special direction on the paying in slip is "4l. Duff 5l. Palmer" those sums were paid out on the 21st, and I think that 21st July is in Palmer's writing—on 24th July 22l. 4s. was paid in and the special direction is "22l. for Mr. Dowding"—on 4th August the account was 15?. 7s. 8d. overdrawn, 7l. was paid in on that day, and the special direction was "I cheque, Palmer, 7l"—on 5th August 8?. was paid in, and the special direction was "I cheque, Palmer, 8l.," that was paid out the same day—on the 8th 30?. was paid in "For Mr. Dowding," that was not paid till the 9th—the account was on the 9th 16l. 7s. 8d. overdrawn; 12l. 10s. was paid in on that day, with the special direction "Mr. Hanson. 12l. 5s."—on the 10th 10?. was paid in "For Mr. Dowding"—the account was overdrawn on the 11th, 16l. 2s. 8d.—on the 12th 11?. was paid in; the special direction is "Hanson, 6l., Collingham, 5l."—on 14th 28l. 9s. was paid in; the special direction is "Mr. Dowding, for milk, 28l.," and 28l. 9s. was paid to Dowding the same day-this other slip is for 7l., with the name of Palmer at the bottom, which was paid out the same day—on the 15th the account was 2s. 8d. overdrawn, and on that day 10l. was paid out to Dowding in consequence of what was entered on the paying-in slip on the 16th 0l. 10s. was paid in for "Mr. H. Hanson," and on the 17th "Palmer, 7l." on the 18th the account was overdrawn 14l. 13s. Id—on the 19th 5l. was paid in, with the direction "Collingham, 5l."—all those sums up to that time are entered in Clement's pass-book, but from that time it has not been made up—on August 26th the account was 14l. 10s. overdrawn—17l. 10s. had been paid in on the 25th, with the special direction "Mr. Hanson, 9l. 6s.; Palmer, 6l."—those amounts were paid out on that day—the next is August 26th, 13l., and on that day two cheques, amounting to 13?., were paid—on the 28th 22l. 5s., 15l., and 5l. were paid in these are the
slips—the 22l. 5s. is "For Mr. Dowding, milk account"—27l. 1s. was paid out on that day or the next—there is no endorsement on the 5l. slip—on 16th September the account was 6l. 10s. 5d. overdrawn and it was 14l. 12s. 7d. overdrawn on the 8th, but 8l. had been paid in on 15th—the last sum paid in before that was 13l. on the 8th the special direction is "2 cheques 8l., 5l. Palmer"—that sum was paid out on the same day—on the 9th 11l. 0s. 6d. and 16l. were paid in—on the 11s. 0s. 6d. slip is "Mr. Hanson, 10l. odd"—10l., 6l., and 18l. 18l. 4d. were paid out that day—on the 11th 22l.16s. was was paid in, with special directions for three cheques on the 26th September the account was 15l. 10s. 3d. overdrawn—the payments in before that date were 18?. on the 25th, with special directions for 10l. and 8l., and on the same day three items were paid out, all in the name of Palmer; the directions are in Palmer's writing—on the 27th September 11l. was paid in and the account was 14l. 10s. 3d. overdrawn—the payments in before that were 30l. on the 26th, with special directions "One cheque for Dowding, 29l.," which was paid—I wrote this letter on the 22nd. (This informed Clement that his account was overdrawn, and that several of his cheques had had to be returned, and that 1l. short had been sent on one occasion.) I do not know whether that 1?. was ever paid—on the 13th October the account was 13l. 7s. 9d. overdrawn—the last payment in was 5l. on the 10th, with the special direction "Mr: Collingham"—on the 13th 13l. was paid in, and on the 16th 19l. 7s. and on the same day 19?. was paid out—on the 17th 8l. 6s. was paid in "For Mr. Hanson," in Clement's writing—I saw Clement four or five times during 1876 and called his attention to several cheques being returned—he said that several cheques had been taken up after they had been returned—two or three days after the letter was written I told him I should decline any more amounts being paid in in favour of Palmer or cheques drawn in his favour-several of the paying-in slips are in favour of Palmer, he was in the habit of paying in money in that way.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. This was a bill discounting company originally, and the banking department is in connection with it—one of our conditions is "No account is allowed to be overdrawn, therefore, cheques, country notes, and bills can only be credited on advice of payment"—the company does not consist of me and my brother, there are about ten nominal proprietors—I do not remember when Clement was induced to open this account with my brother—I have a copy of the discount-book here-this is headed "Advance account," that is another word for discount-Clement was not lent 25?. by my brother, that I know of, to assist him in opening this account—I have seen the books and I have some experience in banking matters-since he opened the account on September 4th, 1873, Clement has paid in 15,062l. 15s. 3d.; having begun his account, on September 4th, with 23l. 14s. 9d.; he was allowed to overdraw it on September 24th, 1l. 14s. 5d.-this (produced) is the overdrawing account—I was not it the habit of using the Mitre Hotel for luncheon in 1873, and I do not know whether my brother was-speaking generally I should not know where to send for him when he was out at lunch—I cannot say whether Clement accepted a bill for 25l. on the day after he opened his account, which was drawn by our company—I have not got the bill-book here, but it can be sent for—it would state the terms of the bill—I cannot say whether it was a two months' or a one month's bill-Clement opened the account with my brother, not with me—his account was not closed when we took him in custody, and he was
less overdrawn in November than in September—we cashed a cheque after he was in was in custody and on the same day, because money was sent up for it which was in the bank at the time—the cheque was returned while the money was lying there for it, but that was by an error—I sometimes saw Palmer at the counter writing the directions on paying in slips when he paid in money—after 29th September, when Clement spoke to me about Palmer, he never drew any cheque for Palmer—it was in February, 1876, I believe, that Palmer began paying in money—I do not think Clement said that he had been worried by Palmer not paying in money, but he promised that there should be no more cheques given in favour of Palmer—he Jed me to believe at that interview that Palmer had behaved very badly to him—here are, at a rough guess, 150 or 200 dates on which the account was overdrawn during the three years—I understood that Mr. Hanson is an egg merchant in Drury Lane, with whom Clement dealt—Hanson's cheques passing through Clement's account were mostly honoured, but sometimes they were returned—I-cannot say whether they were ever presented a second time—probably fifty of Hanson's cheques were returned during the whole time, but not 100—as far as I know, Palmer always paid in cash, and he put at the bottom of the slip "For Mr. Clement"—nominally it was for Clement's account—he paid interest on the amount that was overdrawn—Clement never told me in words that Palmer would pay in money for the cheques drawn on his behalf, but he may have referred to Palmer—I do not remember his doing so—this bank is open to tradespeople who are not bound to keep a balance, but not exclusively "so—it says here "Ladies married or single may open accounts"—my late brother bought a horse and cart for Clement, I believe—I do not know that it was bought for Clement, but it was allowed to, remain with him—it was for his use.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. A few of our customers' accounts are continually overdrawn—we did not strictly pay the money according to the, directions of third persons on the slips—Palmer, who did" not keep an account with us, used to write the directions down—I dare say there are fifteen of these slips which bear Palmer's directions, they represent a considerable sum of money, which Palmer almost invariably paid in in cash—there may have been a conversation in which Clement said that he was going to oblige Palmer and give him cheques, as he had no banking account, but I do not remember it, and we should not recognise it, but had anyone paid in money to Clement's account with a direction, we should consider it. Clement's direction—I think Palmer has complained to me that his cheques were not met though he paid in money.
Re-examined. I remonstrated with Palmer about not paying in money, and he said "Well, it is not my fault, Clement ought to have seen to it"—the acceptance for 25l. was money we had advanced—he owes us about 56l. altogether—we always, acknowledged Palmer's directions, although it was against our general rule.
WILLIAM MCLAREN . I am a milkman and corn-dealer, of St. Anne's Hill, Wandsworth—on 17th August I had two cows for sale and Palmer called on me with a man named Neale—I knew neither of them—Neale said "I have brought a man to look at your two cows"—we all went to the field to look at the cows—Palmer asked how much I wanted for them—I said, "24l."—he offered me 22l., and we went to a public-house, where he offered me 22l. 10s.—we subsequently agreed for 23l., which he was to pay when he fetched them away—Neale said that he would be answerable for anything
Palmer did—they were to fetch the cows at 9 o'clock, but they did not do so; I heard afterwards that they went to the wrong house—on the 19th I met Palmer and Clement in a hansom cab—they got out, and Palmer said that he was very sorry he had not fetched the cows, but he had been in the country and bought a lot of things, and would I let them be at a place where his drover might call for them—I said "Yes"—we adjourned to a public-house, where Palmer, in Clement's presence, produced this cheque for 23l.—I said that I would sooner have a cheque made out in my own name—Clement said "Well, that makes no difference; I had dealings with Palmer this morning, and the cheque came to the same amount as yours, and he pays it to you in the way of trade"—I said "If it is all right I do not mind"—Clement said "It is all right, my boy; as right as the Bank of England for thousands, and as soon as you get that to the bank on Monday morning, there is your money"—I agreed to let them have the cows that night, and afterwards found that they had been, fetched—I took the cheque to the London and South-Western Bank on the Monday morning and cashed it and paid a shilling—I got it back on the Wednesday morning marked "Refer to drawer"—I then drove to Palmer's shop, 322, Wandsworth Road, and said to him "Governor, this cheque has come back; what do you mean by this?"—he said "What do I mean? I know nothing about it; you must go to Clement"—I said "I shall not go to Clement, I shall look to you for my money"—he said "Well, I will put on my hat and go with you"—I went with him to Clement's house at Vauxhall Cross, and stopped outside while he went in; he remained in some minutes, and presently I saw him run out of Clement's shop and jump into an omnibus—I jumped on it also, and he said "Where are you coming V—I said "I am coming along with you, wherever you are going"—he said "I—am going up to the bank; Clement has given me another cheque for 8l."—I saw the cheque as we went along—I said "They won't cash that cheque, because it is crossed"—he said "Oh, yes, they will"—we went to the London Discount Alliance—Palmer went upstairs and came down and said "It is no good; they will not change it"—I said "No, I did not think they would"—we got on an omnibus to go back to Clement's, and on the way I asked Palmer how the cows turned out—he said "Very well, they got us a little over 4l., and Clement was very ready to come and draw his half of the profits"—I said "Very well, then you ought to pay me"—we went back to Clement, but we could not find him for a long while—I left Palmer and found Clement at a neighbouring public-house—I said "Good morning, sir, I have been looking all over the place after you"—he said "What do you want of me?"—I said "Me and Palmer want you"—he said "I do not want you"—I said "I want my money"—we went outside and saw Palmer again, and Clement said "What are you going to do about this cheque?"—he said "Do; I know nothing about it; I shall do nothing"—I said "I shall do something"—he said "You can do what you like"—I said "I shall go to the Magistrate and see if I cannot alter it"—he said "You may go to all the Magistrates, and all the county courts, and bring all the detectives you like; I have lived longer than you have, and I have done better men than you"—I saw Palmer and Neale an evening or two afterwards, and told Neale what had occurred—he proposed that Palmer should give me some money, and Palmer gave me 6l., and promised to pay the balance in a day or two—I consulted a solicitor, and afterwards saw Palmer at his shop—he put his hands in his pockets and said "I have
got a lawyer's bill about that cheque; you will have to pay for it"—I have never received the balance.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Palmer said on the omnibus that he was going to get the 8l. cheque cashed, and he thought he should have enough to pay me.
ARTHUR PICKARD . I assist my father, a meat salesman, in the Metropolitan Market—I know Palmer, he used to buy meat of me and pay sometimes in cash and sometimes by cheque—on 17th August, he came and bought meat amounting to 2l. 2s. 6d., and gave me this cheque (produced) for 5l., drawn by Frederick Clement—I gave him the change, and he took the meat away—the cheque was paid into the bank, and returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I did not see Palmer about it; 2l. of it has been paid, but not to me.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I never had any communication with Clement about the cheque.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The former cheques were honoured. Henry Elliott. I am clerk to R. J. Davis, meat salesman, of the Metropolitan Meat Market—Palmer had dealt with us before 26th August, and on that day he bought a sheep and some beef amounting to 50s., and presented this 10l. cheque (produced)—I said that I should prefer cash—he said "I have none"—I gave him the change, 7l. 10s., and then the cheque was paid into the bank, and in a few days it was returned, marked "Refer to drawer"—I sent Mr. Weeks to Palmer, and he called on me—I asked him for the money for the cheque which was returned—he said that he had not sufficient, but he put 3l. on the table, and asked for a receipt—I declined to give him a receipt, because I told him I would not recognise the mode of payment—he left the 3l. there—I have never been paid the balance.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I had received cheques from Palmer before—three of which were Clement's, and they were all paid.
JOHN GEORGE WEEKS . I am salesman to Mr. Davis—Mr. Elliott sent me to see Palmer—I took this cheque with me, and told him that I had brought a cheque which had been returned, and I wanted the money first—he said "I have not got any; I have only a pound or two, and that will not be sufficient"
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I think he said that he would go and see Mr. Davis about it, before the market closed, and he called about two days afterwards, and I believe he left 3l.—he did not pay the 10l.
CHARLES TAYLOR . I am one of the firm of Jonathan Taylor & Son, meat salesman, of the Metropolitan Market—I had dealings with Palmer before 16th September, and on that day he bought a pig of me, which came to between 2l. and 3l.—he paid this cheque for 11l. at the counting-house and received the change—the cheque was paid into the bank, and returned marked "Refer to drawer."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have known Palmer a year or two as a butcher in the market—he has done business with me, sometimes cash transactions; but we have taken cheques before of the same sort as this, and they have been honoured.
THOMAS EDWARD TAYLOR . I received the cheque back, and sent a clerk named John Smith, to Palmer—I afterwards went to Palmer's house and saw him—he said "Governor, what brings you down here?"—I said "You know, I suppose, that I have come about a cheque which has been returned,'
—he said "Indeed?"—I said "It is no use affecting surprise, you must have known it"—he said "Well, I will see Clement, and will come up to you in the morning"—the cheque has never been paid.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. He said "You don't mean to say it has not been paid?" or words to that effect—he also said "I have been in the country all the week, but I shall see Clement this evening, and will faring the money in the morning."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I was told that he was in the country—I have not taken many cheques of him before.
JAMES BAKES . I am a meat salesman of the Metropolitan Market, next door to Mr. Taylor—on the 16th September, Palmer called about 9 o'clock a.m., and brought a carcase of a lamb for 1l.—he gave me a 5l. cheque, dated 9th September, drawn by F. Clement, in favour of Mr. Collingham—a clerk gave him change, and referred him to me-for my permission to take it—he said "Oh, it is all right, it is Mr. Clement's account"—I paid the cheque into the bank, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I wrote to Palmer, but received no answer—I sent my clerk to Palmer's and to Clement's; I afterwards called on Clement as he was the nearest—he said "It has nothing to do with me; you must see Palmer"—I said "But you are the drawer of the cheque"—he then, said "However I will call and pay you to-morrow"—I have never received the money.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I was at the police-court in November—I may not have mentioned Clement's saying "It has nothing to do with me"—he did not say that he would see Palmer, and tell him to have the money in the morning.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. He said "It is no use your going to Palmer, because I have seen, him go through the market, but I will send the money up in the morning"—I do not remember having had other transactions with Palmer.
JOHN HUGHES . I am clerk to Hannah Ward & Co., of the meat market—Palmer had dealt with us on several occasions, and on 25th September, he purchased meat to the value of 2l. 1s. 6d.—he gave me a cheque for 10l. 10s. drawn by Frederick Clement—I gave him 7l. 8s. 6d. change—I paid the cheque into the bank, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I wrote to him—he afterwards called and brought another cheque, saying he was sorry there was so much trouble, but that a. country cheque for 130l. had not been paid into the bank, and if I would pay this cheque in I should find it all right—he took the first cheque away with him—I paid the second, cheque in, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I then sent to him, but I only obtained 2l. 10s.—I have never received the remainder—I have not received notice of bankruptcy proceedings with reference to Clement.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I had had former transactions with Palmer for one month—I had ten cheque transactions in that time, one of which was dishonoured, and about twenty cash transactions.
RICHARD CUNNINGHAM . I keep the Elephant and Castle, Vauxhall Cross, I do not know Palmer—this cheque was brought to me—I do not know the date—Clement either brought or sent it; I cannot be certain which, but I changed it in the way of business, and paid it into my bankers, and on the following morning it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I sent
my son to Clement, and afterwards he sent me 2l. off of it—I afterwards received this letter produced—to the best of my belief it was in Clement's writing. (This was dated October 16th, 1876, from Clement to the witness, dating that he was sorry the cheque had been returned unpaid, but would forward 5l. the next evening if he would wait.) I never received the balance, but I received 3l. and as he was serving me with milk that made 3l.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I have been a neighbour of his for a long time and have changed a number of cheques for him—they have always been paid—I was subpoenaed to the police-court—there would be 2l. between us on a balance of accounts.
THOMAS RAIMENT . I am bailiff at the Lambeth County Court—I produce the proceedings in the case of "Frederick Broome (plaintiff) v. Clement"—there was a cheque in that case which was dated August 17th, 1875—I also produce the proceedings in "Harman v. Clement," on a cheque dated April 3rd, 1876—the summons was issued on 19th May, and judgmenb was given on 6th July, 1876—a judgment summons was afterwards issued on 19th September—the defendant did not appear, but an agent appeared for him, and a warrant was issued about a week afterwards, as we had received notice from the Bankruptcy Court to restrain us from proceeding—I also have another judgment against Clement relating to cheques, but I have none where the cheques are dated 1876.
ROBERT BELL (Detective Sergeant). I took Palmer on 8th November, and charged him on the warrant with conspiring with Clement and a man named' Lamb in uttering false cheques and defrauding a number of tradesmen—he said "For God's sake, you are not going to take me, are you?"—I said "Yes, you will have to go to the station with me on this warrant"—he said "I have been a b—fool, and that b—rascal has let me into it," referring to Clement "he has had all my money, he has had the best share of all the transaction; he gave me the cheques, and knew what I did' with them. He always looked after himself first. Clement has been my ruin, and I have been a b—fool to stand to it; you ought to take him as well as me. I have paid all my money into the bank on my and his account. I knew him to be a b—rogue for many years, and I ought not to have done what I have-done, but it cannot be helped now"—he asked me how many cases there were against him—I told him I knew there were then between twenty and thirty—I found on him a cheque-book, and another cheque-book of a bank which he said he had takes some money to for the purpose of getting out of Clement's hands.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. This is not a great deal more than I said at the police-court—I produced this cheque-book there—I don't know whether I gave evidence upon it—I did not say there that he said that he got that cheque-book to get out of Clement's hands—I was not asked the question—I gave my evidence in the same way as I have to-day—to the best of my memory I have not increased the number of cases against him—I might have said at the police-court that there were fourteen to twenty cases—there were about fifty cases—I said at the police-court that he said he knew Clement to be a b—rogue for many years—I expect it was taken down in my evidence—I have been twenty-three years in the force, and have often before been cross-examined on my depositions; they were read over to me—I signed my deposition—I said that he said "Well, I have got myself into a b—mess through nobody else but Clement; you ought to have him as well as me"—he said that—I might have said that
he said "How many cases do you think there are against me?"—I said "At the present time I know of fourteen, from that to twenty"—I did say it—he said "I have only to thank b—Clement for it"—I also said "I searched his house and found a quantity of papers, two banking paper 7l. 10s. in gold on him, 7s. in silver, and 1d. in copper."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Palmer said that he had paid all his money into the Alliance Discount Company, Chancery Lane, on account of Clement.
Re-examined. This cheque-book is on the London Provincial Bank, 51, Moorgate Street, City—the date of the first cheque is September 21st, 1876.
ROBERT PETHER (Detective M). I took Clement on 8th November, 1876—I told him I had a warrant for his apprehension for conspiring with a man named Lamb and a man named Palmer in uttering fictitious cheques—he said "I don't know Lamb, but I have known Palmer for many years as a respectable man"—I searched his place and found three bank passbooks on the Alliance Discount, a slip book and four duplicates—a book containing one cheque was found in his pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. The book was taken out of his pocket at the station—I asked him for the papers at his house and he took them out of an iron safe and gave them to me voluntarily—he did not say he would tell me anything that he could, or that he would afford me all the information in his power, that I am aware of—I was at his house twenty minutes, during which he told me all I have stated.
CLEMENT— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
PALMER— Eighteen Month's Imprisonment.
MR. SIMS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. COOPER WYLD the Defence.
WILLIAM JOHN PAYNE . I am coroner for the City of London and the Borough of Southwork—an inquiry was held before me as to the cause of the death of Mary Ann Treadwell, and I took down the evidence of the different witnesses—I have their depositions here—the prisoner was one of the witnesses—I took down his evidence—it was not signed by him—it would not be unless there was a committal—he was cautioned and then sworn—he said that he was willing to tell the Jury all he knew about it—he had a solicitor there.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. I charged the Jury after the evidence was taken, and they found a verdict of Accidental death—those depositions are in my writing. (Read: "Charles Watson, 70, West Street, Bermondsey, sieve hoop maker. I had come from Queens Road, Chelsea. I was driving a van; I had driven the same horse two years and six months. I left Chelsea about 3.30; the deceased got in the van at Queen's Road. I had only five glasses of ale all day. The woman had two glasses of ale, but only one with me. I was sober, the woman also. She was by my side; we were not talking, we sat close together. At Newington Cause way I saw no cows; I heard no one
call out that; I was going from the Elephant towards London Bridge. I was on the near side of the tramway. I know the Artichoke, that would be on the off side of the tramway. I saw no trolly nor omnibus there. Before I got to the Artichoke I crossed the tramway; I crossed it on the land; I only crossed it once. I saw no omnibus then on the metals As soon as I got across the collision occurred, smash. My left fore wheel came in contact with the milk van, but I do not know what part of it, as I was thrown off the van. My horse and van was straight with the pavement, about 2 yards from the kerb. I was going to-stop at the Artichoke to get a glass of ale. I always called at the Artichoke I was some distance from the milk van when I crossed the metals. At the time of the collision my hind wheels were not on the tramway, nor in the gutter by the kerb. My horse and van were straight in the road. When I crossed the tramway I was pulling up, not going more than three miles an hour.")
GEORGE GREENHAM (Detective Officer). I understand surveying—I measured the roadway where this accident happened, and made this plan produced, on a scale of 10 feet to the mile—these dark lines down the centre of the road shew the metal rails of the tramway—this is the railway bridge and this is the Artichoke public-house—the extreme width from kerb to kerb there is 49 feet 1 inch, and between the metals and the kerb, on the left side, going towards the railway bridge, it is 16 feet 7 inches, and between the metals and the kerb on the other side is 17 feet, and between the metals themselves it is 16 feet 6 inches—there is a slope of the road to the gutter, just sufficient to give a fall off to the rain.
CHARLES HOWE . I am a milkman, of Brixton—on the evening of the 29th December I was driving a cart from London Bridge towards the Elephant and Castle—I stopped at the bottom of the Boro Road, near the police-station—I got down and adjusted a milk-can and got up again—that was 2 or 3 yards from the Artichoke—I was driving at about 5 or 6 miles an hour—that is a slow pace—I had with me in the cart a blacksmith named Blackman, and a lad—an omnibus passed on the right-hand side, near the Artichoke, meeting me in the middle of the road, and going towards London Bridge—keeping my proper side of the road, I should leave him there on my right hand—no other vehicles passed me, but I saw a horse and van, behind the omnibus, driven by the prisoner, which was passing my horse's head from behind the omnibus, when I first saw it, and going towards London Bridge, when it came on the wrong side of the road; it was crossing the bend of the road, between the metals and the kerb, towards the kerb—I pulled my horse's head to avoid its running into me, but I could not do so because of the omnibus on the other side—the result was that my van came into collision with it, and one of his wheels caught mine—the prisoner had a female with him who was pitched out and was picked up dead—I afterwards saw her dead—she was leaning on his shoulder at the time—the collision broke the shaft of my van and the prisoner's horse ran away—I got out and saw the prisoner there—he was thrown out, I believe, for I saw mud on his back—I asked him his name and address; he told me to take it off the shaft of his cart—he asked me for mine; I offered him one of my cards, and he said he would have two or three of them—I offered him two or three, but he would not take them—I noticed that he had been drinking—I had—not been been drinking; I was a teetotaller at that time—he and I both went with
the deceased to a surgeon—I afterwards saw the prisoner taken to the station and charged.
Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. He crossed the metals—I said before the Magistrate "He was leaving room for a vehicle between me and the kerb"—he was driving in the direction of the road at the Artichoke mine was not a fast horse—the near side was clear before the collision—I did not attempt to pull on the near side—I did not hear Blackman pay that if I had done so the accident could not have happened—I pulled the right rein—I did not hear him say that if I had pulled the left it would not have happened—I did not see the prisoner fall.
Re-examined. I could not have avoided the accident—it was between the cross roads and the railway bridge, about 20 yards from the nearest cross roads—the omnibus was going slowly, at about 5 miles an hour.
WILLIAM BLACKMAN I am a farrier, of 21, St. Martin's Road, Kennington Park—on the 29th of December I was riding in Howe's cart, from London Bridge—he stopped to fasten a milk-can in the Borough Road, and got up again, and was driving between 5 and 6 miles an hour—I saw an omnibus coming towards us—the prisoner's van was a long way behind the omnibus when I first saw it—Howe was sitting on the drivers seat, and I was on his left and there was a lad on my left—when I first saw the prisoner he was going faster than he was afterwards—he shot out from behind the omnibus and I called out to Howe "Oh, Charlie;" and then the accident occurred—there was no time to avoid the collision—I then saw a woman, who had been riding with the prisoner, lying on her back—she had been leaning on his shoulder—I did not see him thrown out—the prisoner asked Howe for his card, and when he offered him one he said he wanted two or three; he was offered two or three and would not take them—I thought he was intoxicated because he used rather bad language.
Cross-examined. The prisoner came out from behind the omnibus in a second—I have said the near side was completely clear just before the collision—I do not know why Howe did not pull on to the near side—he did not attempt to do so—it would not have been all right if he had pulled the other rein; it would have happened just the same, only the horse would have caught it more—there was plenty of room on the near side—there was no possibility of avoiding the collision.
JOSEPH SHAW . I am a carman, of 46, Nelson Street, Commercial Road—on 29th November I was driving a trolly from the Elephant and Castle, towards London Bridge, and saw the defendant driving a close-bodied light four-wheeled van, with room enough in front for two persons to sit—there was not much difference, but I should say that the milk-van was the lightest—I first heard a shout, which attracted my attention to the defendant, and I saw his off wheel nearly run against some cows going in the direction of the Elephant and Castle—he was then behind me—there were two more trollies behind me—the cows were on the near side of the way going towards the Elephant and Castle—the defendant was on the off side of the road going towards London Bridge—he was on the same side as the cows—that was the wrong side, and the drover was afraid he would run over his cows, and he shouted—he was very nearly doing it—the defendant was not going at a furious pace, but about seven miles an hour—after avoiding the cows he came across the metals; he passed the middle of the road over to the near side, and travelled along, and then crossed the metals again, and followed an omnibus on the off side of the metals, and passed
under the railway arch, and when the hind part of the omnibus was about level with his-horse's head, I saw the defendant's horse shoot over towards the other side towards the arch, and at that moment the accident happened, and I saw the horse shoot out of the defendant's van and turn short off and run away along the footpath—it had got free from the traces—I saw the woman pitched out on her head, and she fell with her feet towards a doctor's shop—I saw the defendant put his hand on the off side rail to save himself, and that broke his fall—I do not think he fell on his head; but I was on the other side of the road—I had not seen the milkVan coming before the collision—I should say that the prisoner was not driving at a furious rate at any time—I think he had been drinking, as he did not seem to recognise the man with whom he came in collision, and also from his manner.
Cross-examined. He seemed very much bewildered, as if he could not make it out—I said before the Magistrate "He kept behind the bus 12 or 14 yards, and then the horse shot out as if it shied; at that time the bus was between the metals; the road slopes down on the off side towards the arch, the hind wheel of Watson's van skidded in the metal when he had shot away from the omnibus; the wheel skidded along with some sharpness, and that seemed the reason of its going so sharply down the hill"—I also said "There was not time for the milk-van to pull up, nor could he, as his van was all askew."
Re-examined. I also said "The milk-van could not pull up because he could not know the defendant was going to come out from behind the 'bus as he did; if Watson had pulled up, the milk-van would have gone into Watson's broadside"—I was speaking of the time when the accident was inevitable—it was the near hind wheel which skidded—the accident was inevitable from the time that his front wheels were off the metals.
GEORGE WILLIAMS . I am a carman, of 1, Prince's Street, Stepney—on 29th November, in the evening, I was not many yards behind Shaw, driving a trolly at between 4-and 5 miles an hour—Shaw was going at the same pace, and another trolly behind me was keeping up at the same pace—I first saw the prisoner's van just before I got to the railway arch—he was then alongside of us, and he passed us—my attention was first attracted by his shouting to the driver of some beasts which were going towards, the Elephant and Castle, on the left-hand side—he was on that side, but on the outside of the beasts, and going towards London Bridge—he was nearly running into one of the beasts—he was then on his wrong side—he, crossed the road on to his proper side, and went a little way, and then went into the centre again—a bus was travelling up the metals in front of him, and he went on to the metals, and tavelled behind the bus—I had seen the milkman's van, but was not intently watching it—the defendant came from behind the bus to the side of the milk-van, and I saw the woman and the defendant pitched out—I saw the defendant when he was on the footway, but his horse was rather restless, and I did not see much—he seemed a hit upset, and he seemed to have been drinking a little bit.
Cross-examined. I do not mean upset out of the cart—he was going at a middling trot—he saved himself and fell on his back—he came round to look for the name on the van—he was going a little faster than I was—I have said "The prisoner pulled off to avoid the cows when the driver called out," and it is a rather darkish part of the road when the shops are shut—I think the shops were shut at the time.
ALFRED LONNAGAN . I live at 16, Marcell Street, Aldgate—on 29th November, I was driving the middle trolly from the Elephant and Castle, towards Blackman Street—I was about 50 yards off—I saw the prisoner both before and after the collision—I thought by his manner that he had been drinking—that was my idea.
Cross-examined. That was after the fall—I have said "When Watson pulled out from behind the bus, in my opinion he did not see the milk-van."
WILLIAM HEARD . I live at 163, Portland Road, Notting Hill, and am an omnibus driver—on the night of 29th November, I was in Newington Causeway, not driving, but on the footway, just by the arch, and saw the defendant on his wrong side of the way—I did not see an omnibus—I saw the two vans come into collision, and saw the defendant and the woman thrown out—the defendant seemed rather excited, but I cannot say whether it was from drink.
By THE COURT. It was dark, and this was rather a dark place, and the sewing machine shop was shut up.
RICHARD CROUCHER (Policeman M 2). I was at the station, when the prisoner was brought there—he was Tinder my observation twenty minutes or half an hour before the charge was taken—I noticed that he was drunk—I was noticing him particularly to detect that—he was charged with being drunk and causing the death of a woman unknown—he was very incoherent—he said that he met the woman at Chelsea—he did not know who she was, but she was known to his step-mother; that they had had a drink at several public-houses, and he was giving her a ride.
Cross-examined. I know the place of the accident; there is plenty of light usually while the shops and public-houses are open—I did not see it that night—the defendant said that he had been to Chelsea on business—he said that the woman he was driving with was in the company of his mother-in-law, and that they had some gin at the Queen's Road, Chelsea—I sent Sergeant Hornsby there—the prisoner did not give me the name of the house, but he described it—I have said the prisoner said that he had called at two or three public-houses, mentioning one in particular that was situate opposite Chelsea Hospital, between Sloane Street and the Gate.
Re-examined. He did not give me this in one detailed account, but from time to time, as he was leaning on the dock as a drunken person would support himself, and incoherently—I had to ask him repeatedly, because I wished to ascertain who the woman's friends were—I have been thirteen years in the force—there is a public-house lit up brilliantly in the immediate vicinity of the spot, and the ordinary street lamps in addition—a charge was made verbally at the station, in the prisoner's presence, of being drunk and causing the death of a woman unknown, by causing a collision with another vehicle and throwing her from the vehicle he was driving—I took the charge, and Sergeant Hornsby made it.
HORNSBY (Police Sergeant M 6). I did not see this collision, but I went up when the crowd was round the spot, and saw a woman at the surgery, which is about 50 yards from the spot—the prisoner was there—I asked him if he was the driver of the van—he said "Yes"—I told mm that he was drunk, and that he would have to come to the station—he was taken there, and the sergeant asked him if he knew who the woman was—he said "No," and that he picked her up at Chelsea, and as she was coming the same way he brought her with him—he did not seem to take any notice of the serious nature of the charge—he was not steady going to the station
—I could smell him of drink—I saw the landlord of, a public-house near Chelsea Hospital, and made enquiries of him.
Cross-examined. The Coroner's Jury found a verdict of Accidental death.
ELIZABETH DODD . I am a widow, and go out to work—I was before the Coroner at Southwark on 2nd December, and saw the body of my sister, Mary Ann Tread well—her age was 57—she was the wife of a pensioner in the Foot Guards—I last saw her alive on 29th November.
FREDERICK WALTER SMITH . I am a surgeon, of 40, Newington Causeway '—I was called home at a few minutes after 9 o'clock on this evening, and saw the woman there quite dead—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination all the internal organs were healthy-death was occasioned by concussion of the brain—there was no fracture; there was a cut on the right eye down to the bone—it must have been a violent blow to produce such an injury-if she fell from a cart on her head that would be sufficient to cause her death—the cause of death was concussion, general shock to the system from the blow near the eye-in my opinion the prisoner had been drinking, although the fall would excite him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HENRY POPTREE . I am a carman, of 8, Devonshire Street, Newington Causeway—I have been for eight years used to the care of horses—I was standing with Adams outside the Artichoke, and saw the milk-van coming on the tramway metals-Adams drew my attention to it—it was about 6 feet from the kerb when I saw it—I did not see the other van till after the collision—I saw the position of the prisoner's van after the collision; he was just as if he was backing a coal-van—the milk-van turned his van round—I saw the prisoner thrown out—he fell on his back—I saw him get up-in my opinion he was sober; he stood up as straight as I would—they were Both strangers to me.
Cross-examined by MR. SIMS I did not see a bus there, there was not one between me and the prisoner's van—his van did not come from behind a bus—the milk-van was on the near-side metals—there was not time for the prisoner's van to get safely between the milk-van and the kerb at the pace the milk-van was coming, and they could not avoid a collision—there was nothing to obstruct the view from the prisoner's van of the milk-cart coming down—the milk-cart was about 3 yards from the near kerb; one wheel was on the tramway and one off—I have had one glass of ale with the prisoner since this, not more.
Re-examined. It was from 8.40 to 9.30, it was a very sudden thing—the milkman was going fastest.
WILLIAM ADAMS . I am potman at the Artichoke—on the night of the accident I was standing outside and saw the milk-van coming from London Bridge very fast at the rate of eleven or twelve miles an hour, and his front wheel ran into the front wheel of the prisoner's van, which was near the kerb—I saw no omnibus—I saw the prisoner after the accident, but I did not speak to him; he was sober—he got up into the van and got his hat out and went back after his horse—his van was straight at the time of the collision, but it turned afterwards.
Cross-examined. The side of the van was parallel to the side of the road 3 or 4 feet from the side of the road, he was quite straight before the collision—I saw no bus—I have been so ill for five weeks that I could not talk to Poptree much; I had never seen the prisoner before—I have not beard that he was a customer at the Artichoke—the milk van was on its
right side of the road, and the other van on its wrong side—the defendant was going hardly on to a walk, I did not see his van as I was not looking that way, and I did not see it till it was within a few yards of the collision—when the collision happened his van was knocked across the road—the front wheel of the prisoner's van near the springs was the part knocked.
Re-examined. I had never seen the defendant before in my life and hare no interest either way—I did not wish to have anything to do with it.
ROBERT HUFTON . I live at the Artichoke stables, and am foreman to Mr. Tilling—I heard the collision, and when I got there the defendant had just got up and was going behind his own van towards the milk van, and I heard them ask for each other's addresses—I should say that he was sober.
Cross-examined. I did not speak to him—I was within a yard of him—he seemed sober enough—I had never seen him before.
Re-examined. I saw him walk, he did not walk like a drunken man.
HENRY BARNES . I am a livery stable-keeper—I went up to the defendant after the accident and asked him if I could take care of his horse and van—I did not see him more than five minutes—I saw him get up on the wheel of his cart to get his hat out, and a gentleman asked him to come and look after his wife—he spoke well to me and asked me to take care of his horse and van and to tie the springs up, which were broken.
Cross-examined. I have said that he might have had a glass—he spoke to me very well.
Re-examined. He spoke very thick and he said that he was very much shook.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
262. JAMES HUGHES (33) , Embezzling the sums of 10s. and 32l. 13s. 10 1/2 d. received on account of Richard Morris and others, his masters. Second Count—Stealing the said monies, of which he, with others, was a beneficial owner. Third Count—Common larceny.
RICHARD MORRIS . I am a hatter, of 79, New Charles Street, Bermondsey, and am secretary to the Perseverance Philanthropic Society, which consists of members of the hat trade—I produce a copy of the society's rules—the prisoner was the secretary of the society before me; he ceased to be so on 20th December, because of his absence, he failed to attend the meeting on that date and I was elected-rule 18 provides for the secretary's salary-at a meeting on December 15th, 1875, it was fixed at 25s. per quarter—it was his duty to attend at meetings and keep the books—the contributions were taken on alternate Mondays, and it was the prisoner's duty to be present to book them, assisted by a fresh member elected each quarter called a money steward, and at the close of the evening, at 10 o'clock, the money was paid over to the treasurer, who was the landlord of the Catherine
Wheel public-house, where the meetings were held-in the case of men out of work an allowance was made, and the prisoner was empowered to draw money from the treasurer for that purpose—he had a cheque or receipt book for that purpose, with counterfoils upon which ho would enter the amount he drew-by rule 23, at Christmas the surplus, if any, was to be divided amongst the members, except a half-crown from each member, which was to be left in hand as a stock to start with in the new year—the prisoner was a member as well as secretary—the contribution book shows that his money was paid up to 18th December, 1876—on 20th December, the prisoner not appearing, two members were sent to his house, they returned with a book or two and this letter addressed to the money steward for the last quarter, it is the prisoner's writing. (Read: "Gentlemen, I am sorry to have to announce to you that I am completely ruined and deficient in my accounts. I have, through having unlimited control of the funds and being induced by long interest and security, borrowed different sums, in all 20l. to invest in that which I thoroughly believed was perfectly safe under a written agreement that I could withdraw part or the whole at any time, and I was sure to have it on the 20th December. Now I find, not two hours ago, it is a failure, and I am ruined. You will say I had no business to borrow it, but the temptation of receiving so much per cent; was too much for me, feeling sure it was safe, as if it had been right no one would have been the wiser; but now, through my own indiscretion, I have ruined my name and family. My wife knows nothing of it; I cannot face any of you, and I have not a penny, so the only course open to me if to borrow all I can leaving enough left to pay the out-of-door workmen, and go abroad and persevere to pay you back with interest; I will endeavour to pay back 10l. a year till it is paid if I can get work; Tour dejected servant, J. Hughes.") This paper came with it: "December 20th, 1876. I hereby promise to pay to the Perseverance Society, 32l. 2s. 10 1/2 d., that I have borrowed, together with five per cent interest upon it, before December 20th, 1880. J. Hughes"—the letter was read at the meeting, the memorandum was not—I did not find it till afterwards; it was read at a special general meeting on 3rd January—when it was found that nothing' had been entered in the ledger" for fifteen months; it was the prisoner's duty to have entered all the receipts and disbursements—we had no means of judging of the deficiency except by the prisoner's statement—there is no account except in the contribution book-for the last quarter of 1876 that shows a balance of 7l. 7s. 1 1/2 d.—that was after he had got about 27l. odd, and then he drew—5l. more that account must have been made up after the 18th December, because it contains what I believe is the correct amount' of the money' that was collected on the 18th—it was returned with the other" papers that came from the prisoner's house. (This stated the total receipts to be 50l. 18s. 8d., expenditure 15l. 9s. 8d., dividend 27l. 13s. 10 1/2 d., balance" 7l. 7s. 1 1/2 d.)—the 27l. odd is the sum that ought to have been distributed among the members—he received that sum from the treasurer for that purpose—he had paid a dividend to the members twelve months before—I did not receive any dividend from him this time—these receipts for 27l. 13s. 10 1/2 d. on 20th December and 5l. on 21st, are in the prisoner's writing—the account of the 18th was audited by two members on the 19th.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Part of the 1l. 5s. per" quarter that you received as salary was my money-you must ask some of these gentlemen
whether that constituted me your master—there were about fifty or sixty members of the society—I don't know that the amounts put down as paid out to members last quarter were not paid—we have got the signatures for some, not for all—we did not know where to find you—I wrote to Leicester, Manchester, Bristol, and many places, in hopes of finding you.
JAMES JACKSON . I am manager of the Catherine Wheel, Union Street, Borough—I am not a member of the society—I received the monies from the members on behalf of the society—the prisoner was in the habit of drawing out sums and giving me receipts for them in this book—I kept an account of the monies I received and paid-this is it; it shows the amounts I received from the society—the prisoner brought it to me, I did not go into their room—he always gave me a cheque for the money he received from me, or if he had not the book he gave it me on a piece of paper—he did not give me this receipt for 27l. 13s. 10 1/2 d. on December 20th—I have no account to show that I paid him that sum; I had paid him more than that; I have an account of the cheques drawn from the late landlord, previous to 12th October, amounting to 43l. 3s. 6 1/2 d., deducting the 50l. 10s. 8d., leaving a balance of 7l. 7s. 1 1/2 d.—that is in the prisoners writing-when he entered that he took away the cheques he had given me; that was on 18th December.
Cross-examined. I had not above 2l. or 3l. in my hands when I took the house—I was not elected treasurer; I was introduced to you by the late landlord who gave over to me the cash-box and money—I should pay you any sum you named, if you had drawn for the lot I should have paid you.
HENRY RICHARD DELLAR . I am landlord of the Catherine Wheel—the duty of treasurer was handed over to me by the previous landlord; I was never appointed treasurer, my nephew, Mr. Jackson, acted as such—on 19th December the prisoner came to me to draw out the money that we had in hand, I think we had about 15l.; I counted it out, copper, silver, and gold altogether, and he said "You keep back a balance of 7l. 7s. 1 1/2 d. and give me the rest, which I did, and also all the cheques—he did not give me any receipt at that time, only he put in this little red book the amount left—I was to take out of the money 7s. 0s. 1 1/2 d. and give him the rest—he gave me no receipt—he then made that entry—I gave him all the cheques I had out of the cash-boot, and the money—I changed the coppers into silver for him and gave him the silver—I do not remember exactly the amount I paid him, but 15l. was the balance in hand and 7l. 0s. 1 1/2 d. was deducted from it—I have not seen the receipt for 7l. 17s. dated 20th December, it never passed through my hands—there is no balance now—Mr. Morris has drawn the remainder—5l. was drawn by cheque, the remainder has been drawn since.
Cross-examined. I was never elected treasurer of this society—I received money as you brought it from the club-room and gave it to Mr. Jackson—I gave it to you when you required it—I never had any connection with the society any further than holding the money—the money was the property of the club.
RICHARD MORRIS (re-examined). I saw the cheque for 27l. 13s. 10 1/2 d. on 20th December—it was among the other papers brought from the prisoner's house—I cannot swear that it all was from the prisoner's house—it was brought to the table in the room-as the prisoner was not there, I undertook to conduct the business as secretary—it is in the prisoners handwriting—I waited that night to see if the prisoner came to pay the dividend till the closing of the house, as the deputation was a long time
gone—Hughes assisted to pay on the corresponding night of the preceding year—there were about forty present to receive dividends-none were paid.
CHARLES SEAGER . I live in Gurney Street, Old Kent Road, and am a member of the Perseverance Society—on 25th December I attended one of its meetings—the prisoner did not attend—I was one of the deputation sent to his house, 3, Stratford Place, Ivy Lane, Hoxton—the prisoner was not there—we saw a person who represented herself as Mrs. Hughes—she gave me some books and papers relating to the society-among them was the letter addressed to the president, which has been read—I brought the papers back to the room—the letter was opened and read—I also waited that evening to receive my dividend, but did not-receive it—I stayed till 12 o'clock—I did not examine the books I brought back.
Cross-examined. I have been auditor to the society three times—I have always found the balance correct—the last time I examined the books was the 19th December, as represented—the account was right, that is if it had been paid.
Re-examined. I made inquiries about the dividend at the time I audited—it was to be paid, and if paid the account would be correct.
HENRY PIPE (Policeman M 208). I apprehended the prisoner, under a warrant, at Leicester, on 15th January—I read the warrant to him—the amount named on the warrant was 32l.—he said "Yes, I had the money, I meant paying it back if they gave me time; I think I shall be all right, as the society is not registered; I do not think they can prosecute me for it.".
Cross-examined. I do not recollect your having said "They had better accept my offer to repay the money;" you might have said that.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that the accounts being in a confused state he used to make them up at the end of the year. The society not being registered, he did not think they could prosecute him or take any proceedings, and that he proposed to repay the money by instalments of 10l. a year, and not 10s. as stated.
He received a good character.
GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecution — Three Months' Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 5TH MARCH.