CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TENTH SESSION, HELD AUGUST 5TH, 1879.
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, E.C.
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 PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Tuesday, August 5th, 1879, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR CHARLES WHETHAM, Knt., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hod. Sir CHARLES POLLOCK , Knt., one of the Barons of the Exchequer Division of the High Court of Justice; The Hon. Sir WILLIAM VENTRIS FIELD, Knt., one of the Justices of the Queen's Bench Division of the High Court of Justice; The Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of the Exchequer Division of the High Court of Justice; Thomas Sidney, Esq., THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., " WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., and Sir THOMAS WHITE , Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Esq., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., SIMEON CHARLES HADLEY , and EDGAR BREFFIT, Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Esq., D.C.L., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
WHETHAM, MAYOR. TENTH 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.—Tuesday, August 5th, 1879.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. BESLEY and AUSTIN METCALFE Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MR. KISCH Defended.
SAMUEL FOULSHAM . I am a clerk in the office of the Clerk of the Peace for Middlesex; I produce a number of papers, which were ordered to be impounded by the Assistant-Judge at the trial of the defendant—I produce the lease and the assignment, the lease is dated 3rd December, 1878, purporting to be signed by E. W. Alexander and John Litton—there is also a receipt for 100l., that also purports to be signed by E. W. Alexander, of 17, Montague Street, Portman Square, and witnessed by J. or T. Stevens—it bears a 10s. stamp, dated 31st January, 1879.
Cross-examined. I have several other papers that were ordered to be impounded—among them there is a mutilated assignment marked No. 2.
JAMES GEORGE TAYLOR , I am a law stationer, of 10, Gray's Inn Place—I have here my day book, refreshing my memory, by which I can say that on Monday 27th January, 1879, an order was given me by the prisoner in the name of E. Alexander, of Hare Court, Temple, to engross a deed and assignment of a lease by endorsement; this (produced) is the lease—he produced a draft from which I was to prepare the assignment—I gave the draft and the lease to my clerk, Beckham, telling him to make it so that the last part of it should be on the back of the lease, because there was no room to engross the whole of it on the original lease; after he had done it I examined it—blanks were left for the name of the assignor; the name of the assignee, John Litton, was in the draft—the date was left blank—he said he required it to be ready next morning—the charge was 5s. 8d.—I was out when he called; I left directions to ask for the money, and on my return I heard he had been—he came on the 30th and paid the 5s. 8d.—at that time it was engrossed—at the time it left me it had not the Inland Revenue stamp on it—I never saw the prisoner again until he was in custody.
GEORGE BECKHAM . I am an apprentice to Mr. Taylor—this assignment is my writing; I wrote it on 27th January—I saw the prisoner when he called—I left the assignor's name blank, because it was so in the draft. (A certificate of the death of Elizabeth Whitfield Alexander, on 13th January, 1879; aged 67.)
SIDNEY SMITH . I am a solicitor, of 1, Furnival's Inn; I and my wife are interested in the premises of 17, Upper Montague Street—the late Mrs. Elizabeth Whitfield Alexander was the tenant under a lease from 1873 up to September 1878—she bought the lease about that time and remained so; the old lease was surrendered, and the lease of September 27th, 1878, was granted by me and my wife, and Mrs. Alexander signed a counterpart, I have it here—I delivered the lease personally to her—it was a lease for 17 years to Michaelmas, 1895, at a rent of 90l. per annum—at the Christmas quarter 1878 22l. 10s. was due for rent; that was brought into my office in my absence—on 13th January I received this letter from the prisoner. "Sir,—Please send receipt to me as executor of the late Mrs. Alexander, and ask Mr. Sampson to pay enclosed, and make allowance. Mrs. Alexander on 14th November assigned to me by deed of assignment the lease of this house to save further trouble of rent, so I must pay you in future." On 17th January some correspondence occurred with regard to the fire insurance not being made by Mrs. Alexander according to covenant—on 20th January, 1873, I received this letter from him: "Mrs. Alexander being in want of money, executed to me the assignment for valuable consideration; the money was borrowed and secured by a bill of sale on the furniture, and was raised for the repairs of the house; it is being rapidly cleared off by me. I am willing to surrender the lease upon your granting a new one." I wrote to him on the 23rd January requesting him to furnish me with a verbatim copy of the assignment by Mrs. Alexander to him, and to produce the original for inspection; in answer to that I received this letter of the 24th: "The verbatim copy of the assignment will be in your hands on Monday, and I hope the original." I afterwards received this copy of the assignment, it was left at my chambers by some one; I don't know by whom. (Mr. Taylor: "This copy was made in my establishment, for Mr. Kershaw, a solicitor in Gray's Inn.") This letter of 8th February I received from the prisoner. (This stated that a copy of the assignment had been duly sent, and as soon as he could put his hand on the original he would send it; it also stated that the Sheriff had put a man in possession, and proposed, as suggested by Mr. Furber his solicitor, that the prisoner should lodge with the witness the Christmas rent which he had received, and put a man in possession to oust the Sheriff.) I replied to that letter on 10th February, expressing my surprise that such a dishonest and unprofessional proposition should come from a barrister or solicitor, and that I should consider whether it was not my duty to bring it before the Incorporated Law Society—I received this reply of 11th February. (This denied the imputation of anything dishonourable in the proposition, and explained that Mr. Furber's suggestion was merely made in a jocular conversation.) Since the prisoner's committal I have had to pay 70l. for repairing the house; the prisoner may have done some repairs, but they must have been very trifling—the last letters were his on 10th and mine on 11th March—in all the letters he refers to an assignment of 23rd October—I first saw the alleged forged assignment of 3rd December at the Clerkenwell Police-court, when I attended as a witness, after he had been tried at the Middlesex Sessions.
Cross-examined. I was not present at that trial, I was present when he was brought up for judgment—I heard Mr. Barker give evidence as to the prisoner's position—something was said about his being interested in a sum of 10,000l., and that he had recently received a legacy of 500l. from his sister-in-law—I have known the prisoner about two years—I do not know what the relations were between him and Mrs. Alexander—he did not call on me in her company, except when she signed the new lease—he wrote and asked me to grant a renewal of the lease—I offered a renewal of it to him or Mrs. Alexander; he did not to my knowledge pay the rent of the house during Mrs. Alexander's lifetime—I did not enter into negotiation with him as to his paying the rent—I will explain how it arose: when the proposed surrender of the old lease was made I told him and Mrs. Alexander that as to the rent due at Michaelmas, I had no power to distrain under the new lease, and therefore, as I had no desire to be paid beforehand, he and she must sign a promissory note for thai quarter's rent—I believed that the prisoner was the assignee of this lease after Mrs. Alexander's death—he wrote and told me so; I had no other reason for believing it—I do not not know Mr. Benham, I have heard of him—in one of the prisoner's letters he gives the name of Mr. Benham, as one of the witnesses to the assignment—I received that letter after Mrs. Alexander's death—I never saw the mutilated assignment, exeept at the Clerkenwell Police-court; I never heard a word about it till after Mrs. Alexander's death—I sent a clerk to Mr. Benham after receiving the draft assignment—I have never seen Mr. Benham—I believe he is a solicitor of Furnival's Inn.
Re-examined. I received a letter on 11th September from the prisoner, asking me to renew the lease to him or Mrs. Alexander for 7, 14, or 21 years—that was the only way in which his name was proposed; in 1878 the lease had about four years to run—it was afterwards arranged with Mrs. Alexander that the new lease was to be in her name, and not in his; and it was so executed—I wrote this letter to him on 25th September, enclosing draft surrender of the old lease for perusal and approval, and on that he and Mrs. Alexander became jointly liable for a quarter's rent—the property referred to by Mr. Barker was his wife's trust money, and was nearly entirely encumbered.
JOHN DRUCE . I am a member of the firm of White and Druce, house agents, 20, Brook Street—about November, 1878, Mrs. Alexander called on me—Mr. Litton called first to ask us to make an inventory and valuation of the furniture at 17, Upper Montague Street—one of our firm asked for what purpose it was, and he said he wanted to have some idea what the value of the things was—we said we would see Mrs. Alexander upon it—I called on her at 17, Upper Montague Street, and got her permission to make the inventory—on 7th February I received this letter from the prisoner, it was. impounded at the trial (Read: "Dear Sir,—In reply to your letter I beg to say that, being sole owner of this house, I still wish you to keep it on your books for letting," &c.) On 20th I received this letter from him: "The furniture of this house to be sold by auction on 24th by Lewis and Lewis; I wish to let the house, had you not better put bills in the windows?" On 22nd February I received this letter (This stated the terms on which the house was to be let).
Cross-examined. I asked Mrs. Alexander if it was with her consent that the inventory was to be made, and she said certainly; she wanted to have
a rough valuation of the house, to know what she should ask for it in case she should sell it; she thought of selling it—she said Mr. Litton was an old friend of the family—I never saw any assignment of the lease.
HENRY DEACON WOODMAN . I live at Ham Manor, near Hungerford—I knew Mrs. Alexander intimately—she lost her husband many years before 1873—it was through my advice that the house 17, Upper Montague Street, was taken—the purchase was made for 430l.—she was possessed of two freehold cottages—she had about 300l. in cash, and I lent her 180l. to make up the purchase money—that remained unsecured down to 1878 except her promissory note—I continued to be on intimate terms with her to September, 1877, and afterwards—in that year I saw the prisoner lodging in her house—he was certainly not a friend of the family; that was the first time I ever saw him—between that time and 1878 I considered that Mrs. Alexander was somewhat under his influence, and about this time last year I requested Mrs. Alexander to give me security for my 180l. upon her freehold cottages—I last saw her at Michaelmas last at Hungerford—she attended at the office of my solicitor to execute the mortgage of the two cottages, that was on 16th October—she did not then refer at all to her pecuniary affairs, she did not complain at all—the prisoner was at Hungerford at the time, but was not present—I saw him at an hotel there—somewhere in January I had a letter from the prisoner, stating that Mrs. Alexander was very ill—I next had a telegram to say that she was dead, and afterwards I had a letter asking me to the funeral—I attended the funeral—after the funeral I asked the prisoner as to her affairs, he said that he and Mrs. Alexander had joined in a bill of sale, and the money was spent on the repairs of the house; and, as I understood, the bill of sale had been reduced from 140l. or 150l. to about 90l.—I asked him if there was a will—he said he thought there was, but he had never seen it; it was made in favour of himself and Mr. Henry Alexander—he said that he and Mrs. Alexander had joined in a lease for the 17 years, and that it was his intention to sell the house and that he and Mrs. Alexander should go and live at a cottage in St. John's Wood—he never said that Mrs. Alexander owed him any money.
Cross-examined. I had conversation with Mrs. Alexander about the prisoner—on one occasion he stayed at my house with her for a day or two—they seemed to be on very intimate terms—she seemed very fond of him, and expressed herself very affectionately about him.
ANN STRANGE . I am a widow, of 5, St. Petersburg Terrace, Bayswater—I am a cousin of Mrs. Alexander's—I was called as a witness at the last trial—on that occasion this deed was put into my hands, I can't say by whom—I was questioned about the signatures which purport to be Mrs. Alexander's—I say they are not hers, I said so then—I never saw her write like that.
Cross-examined. I know her writing well—this is not at all like her writing—I have plenty of her writing at home, not here—I should know her writing if I saw it—I saw both the signatures to this deed—I saw this torn deed at the Sessions, I did not have it in my hand.
ELIZABETH LANE . I was a domestic servant employed by Mrs. Alexander at 17, Upper Montague Street—I entered the service on 9th November, 1878—I was there on 3rd December—a man named Stevens used to come there occasionally to see Mr. Litton; I don't know what he was—my mistress was taken ill about January—I had not seen a 50l. note in her possession
before that—we had a nurse in the last part of her illness—I saw Mrs. Alexander in possession of a purse before her death—I was present at her death—after her death Mrs. St. George took the purse from the side of the sofa that she died on—I then saw a 50l. note.
JOSEPH STAMMERS (Detective D). I took the prisoner into custody on 12th March—I found on him several papers, which I produce—I found this notice from the Temple at his lodging, 17, Upper Montague Street (Read: "From the Treasurer of the Middle Temple, 25th January, 1879, to J. L, H. B. Litton, Esq. It having come recently to the knowledge of the Bench that you were in October, 1874, convicted on a charge of having obtained 20l. by false pretences and imprisoned for nine months, I am directed to call upon you to show cause on 2nd May why you should not be disbarred and your name erased from the books of the Society.")
SAMUEL FOULSHAM (Re-examined). Among the documects impounded I produce the letters of administration to the estate and effects of Mrs. Alexander, dated 20th February, 1879, in favour of Mr. William Richard Furber—I also produce the mutilated deed, that was one of the documents impounded. (This was in the name of Henry Bulwer Lytton.)
Cross-examined. I heard Mr. Kershaw called before the Magistrate—he is here, sitting beneath you—I was present at the Middlesex Sessions during part of the trial, it lasted two days—I don't think I heard a Mr. Benham examined as a witness—I believe he was examined, I can't say for certain.
Re-examined. When the prisoner was acquitted the trial was for pledging the deceased's goods—I believe the defence was that the goods were covered by the bill of sale, and the general relations between the prisoner and Mrs. Alexander.
JOSEPH STAMMERS (Re-examined). I was at the trial at the Middlesex Sessions—Mr. Benham was there as a witness, I did not hear his evidence—he is a solicitor—I have not tried to find him—he gave his address 7, Furnival's Inn.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
664. GUSTAVE LOUIS MAX JACOBS (26) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering two orders for the payment of money; also to three other indictments for obtaining goods by false protences.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, August 5th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN BENNETT (Detective E). On 1st July about 10.45 p.m. I watched the prisoner and another man in Long Acre for half an hour—they were getting into dark doorways and then separating and meeting again—Berry joined me—they went down Hanover Court, and Berry followed them—I went a different way and met them and said, "I am a detective officer, and shall take you in custody for loitering and being a suspected person"—
they said nothing, but struggled and tried to get away—I saw Davis put Ins hand into his left trousers pocket and try to get something out—I called out to Berry, who took hold of his left hand, and we took them to the station, charged them with being suspected persons, searched them and found in the prisoner's left trousers pocket these two half-crowns done up in newspaper, and another under the lining of his jacket—I could not find any hole in his pocket—I said to Berry "Here is some bad money"—Davis said, "I picked it up against the hoarding in Hart Street"—there was a rag round it and papers between—nothing was found upon Gold, the other man, and he was remanded for a week and discharged.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I watched you for an hour, but did not see you try to steal anything—I said "There have been several larcenies from the person, and I believe you answer the description of the men described in our information"—I did not suspect you of having bad money in your pocket until I had taken you.
CHARLES BERRY (Detective E). I have heard Bennett's evidence, it is correct—I followed the prisoner down Hanover Court and Hart Street, and separated from Bennett, who took them both when I was 15 or 16 yards off—he called my attention to the prisoner putting his hand in his pocket, and I held his hand till we got to the station—I saw them stop at the hoarding, but neither of them stooped.
Cross-examined. You crossed to the hoarding to make water, but you did not stoop.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these three coins are bad, and from the same mould—a great many bad half-crowns of this mould are in circulation, they are making them largely. Prisoner's Defence. I picked up the coins wrapped in a little bit of black rag, and the detective caught hold of me.
GUILTY †— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and DE MICHELE Prosecuted.
LIZZIE MEADOWS . I live at 71, Drury Lane; that is a hosier's shop—about a week or ten days before July 8, I think it was on a Friday, I sold the prisoner a pair of socks, price 3 3/4 d.; he tendered a half-crown; I put it in the till where there were no other half-crowns, and gave him the change and he left—Mr. Jackson went to the till a few minutes afterwards, took it, out and said that it was bad; it sounded very dull; I did not see him destroy it—the prisoner came again a week or ten days afterwards for a pair of socks, it was on a Tuesday; I recognised him before he tendered any money; he gave me a half-crown—I gave it to Mr. Jackson, who gave him in custody as it was bad.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am sure it was you who came the first time; I knew you directly you came in; you had rather a bright colour.
Re-examined. I think the first time was Friday, the second time was Tuesday—it was not the Friday immediately before the Tuesday, it was longer than that—I am sure it was the end of the week—I cannot fix it nearer.
BONTHAM JACKSON . I keep this shop in Drury Lane—I came in on the first occasion shortly after the prisoner left, and found a half-crown in the till, it was the only one there—it was, as near as I can tell, Friday, 27th
June—I tried the half-crown with my teeth, they sank in it, and I hammered it in two; it was rather brittle and it had a white look—I was rather annoyed and vented my rage on it—I flattened it together and destroyed it—I was in the shop on the 8th when the prisoner came in; the last witness spoke to me and handed me a half-crown like the first—I said to the prisoner. "This is the second time you have tried this on, young man; have you any more about you?"—he said "No," and that he did not know it was bad or he would not have given it—I gave him in custody—I doubled it in two, but did not break it—I was so satisfied that it was bad that I threw it away.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I have heard the description of the way Mr. Jackson treated the first half-crown, and have no doubt it was bad—silver will usually double over without breaking—if you hit it hard it will get jagged.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know that it was bad; I was never in the shop before. A young man sent me in with the half-crown to get a pair of socks, when I came out he was not to be found.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and DE MICHELE Prosecuted.
CHARLES SISSONS . I am cashier to George Houghton, a glass merchant, of 89, High Holborn—on 9th July the prisoner came there for a small funnel for decanting liquids—I directed him where he would be served—he afterwards brought me this ticket and gave me a new half-crown which I put into the till where there were other half-crowns, but they were all worn ones—I gave him the change and afterwards gave the same half-crown to Bamfield to get some stamps—he brought it back and I found it was bad—I had taken no other half-crown after it—on 14th July the prisoner came again for a glass funnel and tendered a bad florin—I said "This is a bad one"—he said "I am very sorry, and all the money I have is 2 1/2 d."—the coins were given to Mr. Alpin—to the best of my belief these coins are the same—I broke one.
Cross-examined. I can swear to the coin given to Bamfield—the same coin was brought back—I broke it and the pieces were given to the constable.
WALTER BROWN . I am in Messrs. Houghton's service—on 8th July I sold the prisoner a glass funnel and gave him a ticket, which he took to the cashier—he came again on the 14th July and bought another funnel value 4d.—I recognised him and have no doubt he is the same man.
ALFRED BAMFIELD . I am employed at 89, High Holborn—on 9th July Mr. Sissons gave me a half-crown and florin to take to the post-office, where I tendered it for some stamps, and it was bent—I took it back to Mr. Sissons—this is it.
GEORGE CLARK (Policeman E 363). On 13th July I was called and Mr. Houghton charged the prisoner with the possession of a bad florin—I said "Where did you get this from?"—he said "Some man outside gave it me to
purchase a glass funnel"—he gave two addresses—he said he had no idea that the money was bad—I found 2 1/2 d. on him—Sissons and the two last witnesses identified him as being there on 9th July, but he said "I was not there on the 9th"—Sissons handed me the broken coin.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I deny being there on the 9th. I have written to a witness but I do not see him here."
GUILTY of uttering the florin. — Six Months' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, August 5th, 1879.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
FRANK WRIGHT HARROWER . I am a clerk, at 2, Picton Villas, Dartmouth Park Hill, N.W.—about 12.30 a.m. on Wednesday, 9th July, I was near the Reservoir, Pentonville Road, and saw the prisoner and another man and woman standing near an archway—as I passed them the prisoner asked me the time—I took out my watch, which he immediately seized with one hand, and seized me by the throat with the other, and the other man also took hold of me—I struggled and called out, "Police!" and they pulled me down 4 or 5 yards to the archway, and a policeman came—this is my silver watch (produced), I saw it at the police-court, and it has part of the chain attached, which was broken at the bar—I also lost a bunch of keys, a knife, and 5s. or 6s. in money out of my trousers pocket—I felt a hand in the pocket while on the ground.
Cross-examined. I had been spending the evening at a friend's house—the other man was not standing with the prisoner, but out in the road—I was alone—there were houses on one side the street, and the reservoir on the other—it was a hazy night—the other man and woman escaped—the prisoner was close by—I was sober.
CHARLES GATTEN (Policeman 121 G). On Wednesday, 9th July, about 1.25 a.m., while on duty in Myddelton Square, I was watching three persons, two men and a woman, near Claremont Mews, when the prosecutor came along—I ran across and heard the woman say, "Here comes a policeman"—the prisoner ran out of the mews, and I ran after him about 4 or 5 yards and caught him, when he threw the watch out of his hand on to the steps of No. 35, Claremont Square—I picked it up immediately—the prosecutor then came up and said, "That man has taken my watch"—the prisoner made no reply—the prosecutor was bleeding from the mouth.
Cross-examined. There was no one passing at the time—when I went up to him as he came out of the archway I said, "What is the matter?"—he made no reply, but threw the watch out of his hand—I have made inquiries and find nothing against the prisoner.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MARY ANN DARNEY . I am single and live at 76, Edward's Place, Marylebone—a young woman came up to me near the Marylebone, about 11.30 on the 29th July, and asked me for a penny—I took 3s. 2 1/2 d. out of my pocket and gave her 1 1/2 d., and the prisoner seized my wrist, took the money out of my hand, and struck me and got away—I saw him after at the corner of Church Street, about two or three minutes' walk from the former place—I walked by his side for two or three minutes—he turned round and said, "Who the are you following?"—I said, "I am not following you"—I was afraid he would strike me again before I could see a policeman—he said, "I'll kick your—guts out, if you don't go away"—as soon as he saw the policeman he ran away and I ran after him—I about was 6 yards, from him and the policeman followed—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I am a laundress—I have never been convicted—I was sentenced to six months' imprisonment about two years ago for an assault—I have not since had three months—I do not know Miss Doughty—I was never charged with stealing boots from a shop in Carlisle Street—I do not know Mrs. Clipper—I was not sentenced to four months' imprisonment for stealing a pair of boots from her shop—I was last Christmas sentenced to two months' for unlawful possession of a goose and a rabbit—I have not been living with a man within the last two or three months—I was alone when the woman asked me for a penny—I do not know her—I was alone when I followed the prisoner an hour or an hour and a half after the robbery—I told him it was my way home—I had not been living as a prostitute—I met a policeman at the comer of Portland Market—he is not here—I told the prisoner I had never seen him before.
EDWARD HARLOW (Policeman X 266). I was on duty and the prosecutrix pointed out the prisoner, who was running up Edgware Road—I ran after him about 500 yards, and the sergeant stopped him and I apprehended him—I told him the charge and he said, "I know nothing about it"—the prosecutrix came up and charged him with stealing the money and he said, "I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined. A few other women were near the prosecutrix—she shouted "Police! stop him?"—I never saw her before.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "After the theatre was. shut up I was in Church Street with three other chaps. This woman was talking with other prostitutes, and shoving up against people. She locked a man up last Saturday night I parted from two of the chaps and was with the other one when she came up to me and seized me by the shirt collar and tore it What she says is false."
NOT GUILTY .
lying in the road and two men bending over him—I stopped my horse, and I the man called out "Cabby! cabby! help me"—the two men then rose off him and turned down Denmark Street a few yards and then ran back with I a policeman after them.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. That was in less than a minute—I was two or three yards from them—I only identify them by their clothes—only saw them about half a minute.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. It was rather dark.
RICHARD RICHARDSON . I am a surveyor, at St. Paul's Lodge, St. Paul's Road, Camden Town—on 19th July, about 1.30 am., while going up High Street, Bloomsbury, near St. Giles's Church, I felt something like the report of a pistol in my right ear, but I do not know what it was, and I fell to the ground—I saw no one—I then saw two men unbuttoning my coat—I have a slight recollection of Riley, but cannot swear to him—I had 5l. 10s. in my trousers pocket, but missed nothing but an ivory two foot rule—was five or six minutes on the ground—a cabman came up and called "Stop thief!"—I think the cab had a grey horse.
Cross-examined by Ma Fulton. I had been to 21 and 22, St. Martin's Lane, to make a survey—it was an important matter, and occupied me till 12.55—I saw the rule last while using it there, and have not been there to inquire for it as I am positive I put it in my pocket—it has not been found—I had my spectacles on and my rule in my hand, and I put them in my pocket together after I left St. Martin's Lane.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The sergeant asked me at the police-station if I had lost anything—I took off my coat and said "Oh, I have not got my two-foot rula."
JAMES IRVING . I am a leather dresser, at 10, Now Street, Cloth Fair—at about 1.30 a.m. on 19th July, while going down Bloomsbury Street, I saw the prosecutor lying in the middle of the road with the two prisoners on top of him—the cabman drove up, and the prosecutor called "Cabby, stop!" and the prisoners got up and ran round several turnings and then into Bloomsbury Street again—I followed all the way, and did not lose sight of them till the policeman came and I caught hold of Barry.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. Several other people, about six, were running behind the prisoners—there were four or five people about while the prosecutor was on the ground.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I was coming in the opposite direction to the cab.
GEORGE MATTHEWS (Policeman E 139). I heard cries of "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoners running down Denmark Street, and when they saw me following them they turned up Arthur Street—I never lost sight of them till they were taken—I took Barry.
Cross-examined by. Three or four other men were running after them—I did not find a two-foot rule upon them—I found 3s. 6d., 3d. in bronze, a knife and key.
JOHN FUDGE (Policeman E 116). I saw five persons running after the prisoners, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I ran after Barry; Irving caught hold of him, and we took him to Bow Street—I did not lose sight of him or follow him round any corners.
Lane I saw Riley running as fast as he could—I ran after him about 20 yards and caught him—he was alone—I held him till the other constable came, when he was taken to the station and charged with assaulting Mr. Richardson—he made no reply.
DAVID LEVY (Interpreted). I am a tailor, at 7, High Street, Bloomsbury—on the morning of 19th July I saw the prosecutor lying on the ground, but did not see any other persons there—the cabman drove up, and the two prisoners ran down Denmark Street, and I followed them and called "Stop thief!"—they ran to Arthur Street—I did not lose sight of them—I saw the policeman catch one of them in Arthur Street.
GUILTY of assault with intent to rob. The prisoners were further charged with having been previously convicted of felony, to which they severally.
PLEADED GUILTY. **†— Ten Years' Penal Servitude each.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, August 6th, 1879.
Before Mr. Justice Field.
MR. POLAND and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; and MR. A. B. KELLY Defended.
ELIZABETH JANE STUCHCOMBE . I am single, and am ward assistant at the infirmary in Cleveland Street—I had a male child born on 14th August last, and obtained an order on the father for 7s. 9d. a month for its maintenance—I sent it to Epping in December, it remained there till 28th February, when I took it to the prisoner at 28, Dean Street—she told me she was married, and I agreed to pay her 5s. a week for the child, which I did as the quarters became due, but I used to give her in between what the father sent me—on 19th May she removed to 30, Church Street—I went to see the child every other day in Dean Street, but not so often in Church Street—she used to go to her sister's, and I used to go there to see if she was there—I saw the child on Sunday, 22nd June; it had then been ill, but was a little better—he had begun to ail in May, he had a weak chest—he was not crying, he was lying on the couch with his bottle—he was cutting his teeth, and she told me he had bronchitis—on 1st July I went, and she said that he was better; but I went up to her room and found him on a couch dressed, but very ill—I took him up and said to her, "Baby looks half starved"—she said that she had taken him to the Consumption Hospital, as the doctor told her he was in a consumption, and that he had two or three cups of bread and milk besides his bottle, and that he was suffering from his teeth—I only stayed there a few minutes, and that was the last time I saw him alive—I had paid her all that was due, which was 1l. 15s. on the 26th—I knew that she had taken the child to the dispensary for bronchitis when she was in Dean Street, because her sister, Mrs. Collier, came and told me—the child was called Allan Stinchcombe, but he is called Partridge on the dispensary letter because that is the father's name—the prisoner had not sent for me or called after the Tuesday
—I supplied the child with proper clothing, but she said I need not trouble myself as she had plenty—I have seen some child's clothing which had been pawned, that belonged to my child.
Cross-examined. It had not been a weakly and sickly infant, but its chest was weak—it was always kept clean, and so far as I observed the prisoner was kind to it—she said that the doctor said that it had consumption, and I knew as a ward assistant that that was very serious—I did not suggest that he should be taken to the hospital again—when I said that he looked half starved the prisoner said, "If you saw what he eats you would not say that"—on that last occasion I noticed that he breathed very hard; he did not cough, but he had a very bad cough in May, and at that time the prisoner told me that she gave him cod liver oil, and showed it to me—I never had any reason to complain of her—I thought she was treating the child kindly and well.
Re-examined. He had no cough in June when I saw him—she told me that she got the cod liver oil from the hospital—she would get it for nothing there—this (produced) is the dispensary letter she showed me.
By the COURT. It had milk only in the bottle, but it also had bread-andmilk—I have seen it take its meals, it seemed to have what it wanted—its skin and its clothes were clean, but I never saw it undressed.
SUSAN BEATON . I am the wife of John Beaton, of 35, Church Street—the prisoner came with a child to lodge there on 19th May in the second-room back—she told me that she went out charing, but I did not know when she was in or when she was out—she had a latch-key—I saw the child a fortnight before its death, she was taking it out in the daytime in her arms, and it seemed to be all right—during the week before its death I noticed that the prisoner was drinking—I first noticed that on 2nd July, when she was coming into the passage, and asked her if she had any milk for the child, she said "Yes"—I said, "If you have not I will get you some"—she said, "I never neglect the child"—next day, Thursday, I called her downstairs about 10 a.m., and gave her advice; I told her that she must not drink, and if anything happened to the child while she was drunk she would get herself into trouble—she said that she had met a friend and had a glass, but it should not occur again—she was quite sober then—I saw her next on Saturday morning about 9 o'clock in the passage, she had been out for some milk and eggs—I said, "I thought you were out, for the baby 1s. crying"—she said, "I have been to get its breakfast," but she never gave it its breakfast because it is in the room now—she went upstairs with the milk and eggs—I saw her again that afternoon in the street standing against an oil-shop very drunk—I did not see her again till between 7 and 8 o'clock, when I opened the door to her and the doctor—she was then drunk—we all three went upstairs and found her room locked; she had not got the key, but I had one with which I opened the door—we had no light—we went into the room—the child was lying on the couch all of a heap, not dressed, and the doctor said that it was dead—I said that the prisoner ought to be charged with causing its death by negligence—she made no answer—the doctor said that there was quite sufficient, and that was why he took it up—there was only the egg and a spoonful of sour milk in a jug in the room, not more than a wineglassful—when I saw her in the morning she had a small teacupful of milk—I noticed a feeding-bottle on the mantelshelf—the Coroner's officer fetched the body—after the doctor left, the prisoner went
out again, and came in quite drunk and incapable—she was locked up, the detectives searched her room next day.
Cross-examined. The prisoner fetched the doctor and walked upstairs with him, she had got sober then—I think half the milk was still in the room in the evening and half of it had been used—the child was lying on its side with its head on a pillow, and its limbs drawn up—it had its ordinary clothes on—I had seen it about four times in six weeks, but it always had a veil over its face which I saw through—it looked very thin—I never heard it cough—when I asked her if she had enough to keep her, she said that she had this money and whatever else she could do—she paid me to 30th June—I had no reason to think that the child was not properly treated—I never saw it dirty.
CHARLES BEATON . I am the son of the last witness—on the day that the child was found dead I saw the prisoner going up to her room in toxicated, she could not unlock her door, and gave me the key and I unlocked it for her—when we got in I saw the child lying on a couch in front of the window alive, but breathing hard—she took it up and said "Oh, my pet"—I then came down and left her in the room.
ANNIE GOULD . I am married and live at 13, Lumber Court—I have known the prisoner about three months—I met her on Friday, the day before the child died, and went with her to her room; the child was lying on a sofa—I went to take it up, but she said "Don't take him up," and I left him—he moved one arm—the prisoner was intoxicated—we went out for half an hour and came back, but did not go inside again—I left her at the street door about 7 o'clock—she had a glass of ale while she was out, that was while she was in an intoxicated state—I went there next day, Saturday, about 1 o'clock, but the prisoner was out—I went again about 5 o'clock and found the prisoner's door locked, I shook it and heard the baby cry—I did not see her that day.
Cross-examined. She had told me three months before, when I met her on the Dials, that it was a nurse child—it was not crying—when I was going to lift it up it seemed comfortable, with its head on the pillow—I had never seen it before and had not been into her lodging—she said that the child was very healthy when she first had it—she spoke kindly of it as if she was very fond of it.
JAMES SPINDELOW . I am the Coroner's officer—on Saturday evening, July 5th, I went to the prisoner's room and saw a dead child there—it was dressed—Mrs. Beaton undressed it and I had it taken to the Mortuary—I had not seen the prisoner before that, but I saw her afterwards about 8 o'clock very drunk—that was before the child was taken away—I asked her if she had had any medical attendance for the child—she said "I took it to the dispensary last week"—I said "Why did not you take it again, have you had anybody since then?"—she said "No"—I said When did the child die?"—she said the night before, in the night—she was then locked up for being drunk and incapable—I searched the room and found six pawn tickets, one dated July 1, for a shawl, 2s. 6d.; another July 3, for two child's gowns, 1s. 3d.; another July 4, for a frock and cape, 1s. 6d.; another July 5, for a child's gown and frock, 6d.; there was also a quilt on 2nd July, 1s. 3d.; and a petticoat on 3rd July for 6d.—I saw about a wine glass of milk in a jug on the window ledge; it smelt very sour and it had a thick coat on the top—it may have been fetched the first thing that morning;
it was a cold wet day—I saw this feeding bottle there as it is now—the window was wide open—I got this dispensary letter from her sister, Mrs. Collier, 28, Dean Street.
EMMA COLLIER . I am the prisoner's sister and live at 28, Dean Street—she is single, but being middle aged she was called Mrs. Jordan—she formerly lived with me and went out charing and washing when she could get it—I always gave her eighteenpence for doing my washing, and sometimes she got eighteenpence from a lady living in my house—I sent my daughter to get this letter from the Westminster General Dispensary, Gerard Street, Soho, and gave it to the prisoner, who had asked me to get it, but they have put George Ellen instead of George Allan Partridge—medicine is perfectly free there when you get the letter.
Cross-examined. I used to see the child frequently after it went to Church Street, quite two days a week—it was brought to my house while she was at work—it was well fed there, when I gave my baby the bottle I gave this child the same—my child is a year old—the prisoner was kind to the child, she could not have been kinder had it been her own; it was well attended to and clean—it had bronchitis a fortnight after it came, and I sent her to fetch its mother, as I thought it might die—the mother came and it was taken once to a doctor in Brewer Street, who gave it medicine; it took it and seemed better—I gave it cod-liver oil, that was before it went to Church Street, which was on 19th May; it began to fall off before it left my place, and after it got thinner and thinner, and I begged her to give it up—she said he was a little companion and she could not part with him—it took an hour to feed him, as he was always choking—I saw him on the Monday before his death—my sister brought him to my place, he was then awfully thin, his skin was like bags, but he was clean.
Re-examined. I have dressed him, but I have not seen him undressed since she moved to Church Street—he did not wear drawers, you could see to his waist—she was a sober woman, but at times she had a drop too much, but not daily, as she had not means to get it—she was not a drunkard, she was a hard working woman.
JOSEPH ROGERS , M.D., M.R.C.S. I live at 33, Dean Street, Soho—on Saturday, 5th July, at 8.30 p.m., the prisoner came to me very drunk; she was a strangerto me—she said, "Will you come and see a baby who is ill?" and at that moment reeled into my chest—I declined to go as I did not like her looks—I said, "Where do you come from?"—she said some name at 28, Dean Street—she understood questions, but she could not stand—she muttered, "I don't think you can do any good, for I think the child is dead"—I said, "Has any one attended the child?"—she said, "No"—I said, "Walk on, and I will follow you"—she went on and reeled from side to side; on reaching her lodgings she was so drunk she could not open the door; the landlady opened it and charged her with neglecting the child—an altercation took place between them—I went to the second floor and found the door locked; the landlady unlocked it—I went in and saw a dead child on a couch—it was dressed—I lifted it up and found it cold and rigid—I concluded it had been dead 12 hours at least—I left, and on Sunday saw the child again at the mortuary—it was very emaciated and dirty, its back was covered with excrement up to the shoulders, which had dried on hard—I had difficulty in getting it off—it might have been there four days—the verge of the anus was raw and dirty, which might be from internal causes—
the foreskin was very much swollen, so that the orifice of the urethra was completely blocked up—it was phymosis—that might have arisen from internal causes and from secretion and want of washing; it ought to have been fomented and kept down—decomposition had very much advanced on the Sunday, which indicated either a very low power of life, or that the child had been dead a long time—the skin of the right elbow was knocked off about the size of a shilling, as if the child had fallen out of bed—it weighed 9 1/4 lb., and the average weight of a child of that age is 18 or 201b.—he was 24 inches long, which is above the average, and he must have been a very fine child—I afterwards made a post mortem, and found the brain very soft with a small quantity of fluid in the ventricles—there were no signs of teeth, there were miliary tubercles in the upper part of both lungs, but no suppuration; it had suffered from bronchitis which had filled the trachea to its lower part—the heart was ill-nourished and the walls flabby, it fell down when I took it out, and could not retain its shape—the stomach was smaller than usual and contained about a tea-spoonful of what appeared to be milk, the gall bladder was much distended—the omentum was devoid of fat—the intestines were generally empty; the large bowel contained a small quantity of faeces; the bladder was distended with urine to the utmost limit; the mesenteric glands were enlarged—the immediate cause of death was bronchitis—the child had required medical care for a long time—the prescription on this dispensary letter of May 13th is for bronchitis—the state of the child a week before its death must unquestionably have shown that it required care and attention and very careful feeding—I came to the conclusion from the distended state of the stomach and the gall bladder, that it had not been fed for a long time—I have a very large experience, and it is quite exceptional when children do not take food—there was mesenteric disease and that would account for the emaciation combined with miliary tubercles and bronchitis, but I do not think it would account for all I saw—there was tubercular deposit which would account for a great deal of the emaciation—the distention of the bladder would not have any bad effect, that might be temporary.
Cross-examined. Bronchitis under favourable circumstances is often fatal to children and old people, more so than to people in middle life—it would be objectionable to give heavy food to a child 11 months old suffering from bronchitis; it is objectionable at all times to an infant, but I say it should have beef-tea—the emaciation of the child was not traceable to bronchitis per se; tubercles had appeared on the lungs, which were the cause of the bronchitis; the enlargement of the mesenteric glands was the cause of the bronchitis, and that arises frequently when children are brought up by hand—tubercular disease, mesenteric disease, and bronchitis may all exist in a child carefully tended—I should not expect the child to be emaciated to the extent this child was, although it had bronchitis on May 18th, extending to July 5th. (Mr. Williams here withdrew from the prosecution.)
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CUNNINGHAM and VENNELL Prosecuted; MR. WARNER SLEIGH Defended.
LILLY GREIGGS . I am the prisoner's daughter, and am 11 years old—I lived with my father and mother at 13, Eton Street—on 10th July, from 3 to half-past, my father was cutting bread and butter for me in a washhouse near the kitchen; my brother came in, and my father said "Have you been looking after work?"—he said "No, you are better able to work than I am"—father said "I am not; will you have some bread-and-butter?"—he said "I want something better than bread-and-butter"—father said "I have nothing else"—then my brother used bad language to my father, and struck him in the chest, and I ran to the washhouse.
Cross-examined. My brother lived at home; he was often out of work, and was ill-tempered and quarrelsome—my mother supports the family—my brother threatened to murder my father a year ago, and he struck my mother and knocked her teeth out—he was violent and threatening to his father on the day in question—his father is so ill that he cannot earn his living, and cannot walk any distance without help—he had the knife in his hand when the threatening took place, he did not take it up after—my brother struck him an angry hard blow which frightened me, and I ran away to get protection for my father—he had cut some bread-and-butter, and was cutting more, and was standing up—I did not see what took place after my brother struck him.
ELLEN ELLIS . I also live at 13, Eton Street—the washhouse is at the back of the kitchen occupied by the prisoner—on 10th July, about 3 o'clock, I was in the washhouse, and heard quarrelling in the kitchen—the last witness ran in to me, and said "Oh, Miss Ellis, my father and George are quarrelling!"—George was the prisoner's son—while she was speaking George ran upstairs—I ran after him soon afterwards, and saw him in the street lying on the ground—he was brought into the passage by the police, and some brandy was given to him—the prisoner came into the passage, but they did not speak to each other—a doctor came.
Cross-examined. The deceased's manner to his parents was such as to frighten them, and cause them to fear personal danger from him—he was in a most quarrelsome and aggressive humour on this day—he told me he wanted to fight somebody and settle somebody—he said "I feel as if I could settle somebody to-day"—that was before the quarrel with his father—he was 19 years old.
EMMA STELTON . I live with my parents at 13, Eton Street, Regent's Park, and shall be 16 in September—on 10th July about 3.30 I was in the wash-house and heard George Grriggs cry out "Oh!"—I ran upstairs, and as I passed the kitchen-door I saw the prisoner just inside with a knife in his hand like this (produced)—George ran up into the street, holding his hand to his left side—I afterwards saw him lying in the street.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is a most good-natured inoffensive old man, and I have heard his son use very bad language to him—the prisoner is paralysed, and unable to walk without support for any distance.
WILLIAM BURK (Policeman 33 S). On 10th July about 2.45 I was called to Ryan's the chemist's in Gloucester Road, and saw the deceased outside bleeding from his left side—I assisted him into the passage of
No. 13, and sent for a doctor and he was taken to the hospital—I then went to the prisoner in the kitchen and said, "Your son charges you with stabbing him"—he said "I did it with this," handing me this knife (produced); "he is a very bad boy and never works; when he came home I was cutting bread, we had words, he raised his hand to strike me, and I stabbed him in my passion"—I took him in custody.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me that his son knocked him down against a chair, or that his son absolutely struck him.
THOMAS GAMBIER . I am a surgeon of 1, Northumberland Terrace, Regent's Park Road—on 10th July Burk called me to 13, Eton Street about 3 o'clock, where I dressed the deceased's wound, which appeared superficial externally; it was about half an inch long, and appeared as if the knife had been stopped by a rib—I directed him to be taken to the hospital.
ALEXANDER OSBISON (Policeman S 221). I took the deceased to the hospital on a police ambulance—we arrived there about 4.15—he was very restless; the doctor gave him brandy—he was placed on a couch and died about five minutes after his arrival.
GEORGE BASSETT (Police Inspector S). The prisoner was not taken to the station on account of his being an invalid, he was went direct to the police-court and charged with feloniously cutting and wounding his son, George Greiggs—he said "I was cutting bread-and-butter, we had some words, he rushed at me, and I would not be struck," putting his arm up as if guarding," and did it in self-defence"—he made that statement both before and after it was read over to him.
CHARLES MAYNE MAXWELL . I'am a house-surgeon at University College Hospital—on 10th July, shortly before 4 o'clock, the deceased was brought there—I was just going out for a walk and met him at the door; he was in a very collapsed state and very weak—I found some dressing on the wound and did not touch it—I gave him some brandy, but he died in seven or eight minutes—I made a post-mortem examination, and found the left side of the chest full of blood, which, when measured, amounted to a quart; there was a wound about half an inch long just above the ribs; it slightly grazed the fifth rib, penetrated between the fifth and sixth ribs, dividing the muscles and the edge of the lungs and penetrating the heart, which was the cause of death.
Cross-examined. If the prisoner held the knife under his hand the wound might have been caused by a fall against the knife.
NOT GUILTY .
677. NORAH ROACH (21) , Feloniously killing and slaying Margaret Roach. She was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence. (The Court having read the depositions, considered that the Jury. could hardly come to the conclusion that the deceased infant met with its death by the prisoner's culpable negligence, and therefore directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .)
MR. A. B. KELLY Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY . (See page 474.) For the case of Laura Jane Addiscott, tried in Old Court, Wednesday and Thursday, see Kent cases.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, August 6th, 1879.
Before Mr. Recorder.
680. JOHN RISELEY (28) to stealing two bank pass-books, a leather case, and a cancelled cheque, the goods of Maurice Drummond.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
SARAH ANN LOUIS . I am single, and live at 43, Livingstone Road, Clapham—on 26th September last I was living at 15, Regent Square, and the prisoner was lodging there, he sold me 15 yards of velveteen, and I gave him 2l. 10s.—he asked me later in the day whether I would like to buy some more, and produced this pawn-ticket ("26th Sept., 1878, for velveteen, 10a"), and said "Will you buy this ticket?"—I said "I do not wish for any more of it;" but after a time I agreed to buy it for 5s., which I paid him—in March last I went to Mr. Cloud, pawnbroker, 14 and 16, Kenton Street, Brunswick Square, and learned that the velveteen had already been redeemed—I have never received the velveteen or the 5s. from the prisoner—these three letters (produced) are in his handwriting, and to the best of my belief the signature, "John Sutton, M.D.," to this declaration is his.
Cross-examined. He sold me the ticket for 5s. on the evening of the day I bought the 15 yards, 26th September—I took the house at 15, Regent Square from the prisoner, who had been then living there two years—soon after I took the house he went to 64, Guildford Street—he had bought that house for 600l. or 800Z.—I knew he had a large account'at the Birkbeck Bank—I know Mr. Weston and have seen him here to-day—I have heard there was a Dr. Miller at Regent Square, but I never saw him or knew him—there were two plates on the door, one Mr. Sutton, the other Dr. MillerSutton had an American diploma—he gave me 12l., not as a present, but money I had lent him—he has had money from me for years past—I lent him money for law costs—I have been in Dublin a long time ago with Sutton, but do not know whether it was the Clarence Hotel—I may have pawned articles in his name—I have never passed as Mrs. Sutton—I do not think I ever pawned goods at Mr. Cloud's in the name of Sutton—I might have done so at Ebsley's years ago—I have seen Miss Glover or Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Mazoni here to-day—I have never passed in the name of Mrs. Sutton—I never saw an announcement in a Dublin paper that Dr. Sutton and his wife were staying at the Clarence Hotel—I have never lived with him as his wife, I decline to answer the question—I swore at the police-court that I never did—I decline to say whether I slept in the same room with him—I have not lived with him as his wife or mistress—I have been in Ireland with him and Mrs. Blodd, and have stayed at a hotel with him, but not as Mrs. Sutton—I never was at Manchester—there was an action pending between Sutton and myself, but not when I went to redeem
the velveteen in March—it was a ridiculous action, there was nothing in it—I never threatened to ruin him; I have been the saving of him—he has threatened to be the ruin of me—in my evidence before Mr. Flowers on a charge against Sutton by a woman named Baines I said "The prisoner came to my house and asked me to buy the pair of earnings produced, and I gave him 5s. for them. He said 'Unless you buy them of me poor Mrs. Baines will have to sleep in the workhouse'"—Sutton was acquitted—I was the landlady of 15, Regent Square—there was an interpleader summons before Mr. Justice Field at chambers, and he made an order against me, and I appealed at chambers before the Judge by counsel, and the decision was against me—Sutton was not then practising as a doctor at 15, Regent Square—I know nothing about his practising at Guildford Street—the medicine patent is mine—he did not discover the medicine, or register it in my name, because he was the proprietor of another patent—Dr. Barringer, a friend of mine, discovered it, and gave me the receipt four or five years ago, for nothing—he has often spoken to Sutton about it—I have not complained of Sutton breaking his promise to marry me, or threatened to ruin him in consequence—he bought me a dress in Ireland and two cameo brooches—I do not know where the velveteen came from—he did not order it for me—he, never gave me any, I bought it from him—I went into Marchmont Street and he asked me to go into a shop with him, and I saw him measured for a suit of clothes—he never had any interest in my patent, but used to write letters for me sometimes and advise me how to advertise it—he was not the inventor, and no agreement was filed between us in reference to it—he tried to get a divorce from his wife, I was not cited as co-respondent—he lived at my house after the velveteen was pawned, but not with me—he slept in a room at the top of the house by himself—I was never in his room after the pawning of the velveteen—I do not think he slept there—he used to sleep in Guildford Street, at Mrs. Mazoni's, and other places in the same neighbourhood—I never asked Dr. Barringer to swear that he had invented the medicine—I went to Mrs. Mazoni in April, after the brokers were in possession of my mother's furniture, but did not tell her I had forgotten that the pawn-ticket related to something else, and that if Sutton would not prosecute me I would unsay in cross-examination all that I had already said—there are no proceedings pending between us—Sutton has never had a sealskin jacket from Mr. Ashburn, pawnbroker, to be sent to me to try on for approval—Mr. Ashburn sent it for me of his own accord, and I was to pay for it—I have been in the habit of buying jewellery from him—it would be untrue to say that I ever pawned anything in. the name of Sutton—Sutton knew nothing about the jacket until I told him—he was not going to pay for it.
Re-examined. I did not buy my house from Sutton—he took it on a three years' agreement, and it had one year to run when he left, and I took it from him at 65l. a year—there was no furniture—that which has been seized was the property of my mother and myself—Sutton signed this agreement with reference to the furniture in dispute after I had been cross-examined at the police-court. (This acknowledged that the whole of the goods, except the kitchen table, fender, and red blind, in possession of Mrs. Ann Welsh, 43, Lansdowne Road, were her property, and thai he was mistaken in supposing that any goods belonging to him were removed therefrom 15, Regent Square. Signed, John Sutton, M.D.)
ARTHUR COURLEY . I am assistant to Mr. Thomas Finch Cloud, pawn-broker, 14 and 16, Kenton Street, Brunswick Square—I know Sutton as a customer—on 26th September he pledged some velveteen for 10s.—he came again on 22nd January and said he had lost his ticket, and a form of declaration was handed to him—he brought a female with him to identify him as Mr. Sutton, and subsequently brought me this declaration (produced) sworn before a Magistrate, and I delivered up the velveteen to him.
Cross-examined. I do not remember his bringing Mrs. Louis—I have seen her there—I do not remember Sutton making any purchases, or asking me to send round a sealskin jacket to 15, Regent Square.
JAMES MOTAGGART . I am messenger at the Clerkenwell Police-court—I remember a person coming to be sworn to a declaration in January last in the name of Sutton, and I handed it to him to sign—the Magistrate's initials are upon it.
JOHN MANN . I am assistant to Messrs. Arnold and Sons, surgical instrument makers, 35, West Smithfield—our firm received this letter dated 17th August, 1878, signed "J. W. Miller, Mr.C.S." (Read: "Sir,—he pleased to send me with invoice a spiral belt about 35 inches round, and as deep as you manufacture them.") It was sent per post, and charged on 20th August"—we received also this other letter dated 2nd September. (Read: "Please send me Allen's set of dental scales and stopping instruments together with case. I wanted the bandages to-day, and expected them as promised.") I do not know what the bandages refer to—this (Another letter, dated 15th September, pressing for delivery of the goods) was also received—we did not send the goods—we supplied a truss which is charged to Mr. Miller on 4th September—we understood the letters "M.R.C.S." to mean a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—we did not know a Dr. Miller, and we have not been paid for the goods or received them back—a spiral belt was produced by the prisoner at the police-court similar to the one we supplied.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court we should have supplied the belt if ordered in the name of Dr. Sutton—the value of the belt was 2 guineas—our collector made an application for the money, but has since been discharged from old age—I am not aware of any other application for the money—I should have heard if proceedings had been taken—we sent him our invoice—we send out the accounts once in three months—Messrs. J. and J. Ferguson are in the same business—I am not aware that we had previous business with Sutton, or that he called with Dr. Miller—I find no entry of a truss supplied to Mr. Mazoni.
SARAH ANN LOUIS (Re-examined). A parcel addressed Miller came to my house in September last—I think the postman threw it over the railings—I asked Sutton what it meant—he did not say anything—I believe he bought the American diploma for 3l. 10s., but he did not say—I did not see the truss come.
EDWARD TRIMMER . I am secretary of the Royal College of Surgeons—a diploma was granted in 1836 to John West Miller, described as of Cork, Ireland—I produce the book containing his signature, 3rd June, 1836—he remained on the books till the year before last—I have examined the books, but could not find any other John West Miller—it is in this list as 15, Regent Square, London, 1878—in the Medical List for 1879 (produced) it as "John West Miller, Sidney, New South Wales," and the same particulars except change of address—I cannot tell if there is another John West Miller
—I am not the registrar—it is irregular, but it is known that sometimes unregistered practitioners associate themselves with one who is registered in order to recover their fees—a form has to be filled up on change of address, but I have always thought that the evidence of identity was very defective—the certificate is not returned at death—it is not necessary to attend year by year to renew the certificate—the Medical Council may require to know the addresses of those registered, and if the information is not received they have the right to strike off their names.
By the COURT. I had an American diploma some time ago, in which the name was blank—I wrote to New York, and found that several diplomas had been signed in blank and given to a janitor, who sold them.
GEORGE FOWLER . I am porter at St. Giles's Workhouse—I knew an inmate there named John Miller, between 1868 and 1873, engaged at the porter's lodge—he was admitted into the workhouse as a clerk, but told me many times whilst engaged with me at the porter's lodge that he was a surgeon, and had been in many Government appointments on board ship going out with emigrants—he died in the workhouse on 10th July, 1873—a man named William Garlick was an inmate at the same time—many people going into the workhouse like to exaggerate the importance of the positions they have held during their better days, and some do not like to say what they have been.
WILLIAM GARLICK . I was an inmate of St. Giles's Workhouse in 1873, and knew John West Miller—he told me he was a surgeon—I know his handwriting, and I believe the signature to this diploma to be his hand writing.
Cross-examined. I had his books before me daily, and am familiar with his handwriting—I never saw Sutton visit him.
Cross-examined. I did not go several times to his chambers at Mrs. Louis's request to arrest him—Mr. Weston is the landlord of 15, Eegent Square—I have not ascertained from him that at the time this belt was ordered Sutton was living there, or that his name was on the door—I am told he left in 1870—I have not long known him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
CAROLINE GLOVER . I am a single woman, and live at 13, Milman Street, Bedford Row, and have known Mrs. Louis perfectly well for 12 years—I knew her as Mrs. Sutton when I first saw her—I have not heard her called Mrs. Sutton, but I went to 15, Regent Square, about apartments 12 years ago and she showed me the rooms—I asked her if she was Mrs. Sutton, and she said "Yes," and I took the apartments—they occupied the same bedroom—I lodged with them about 12 months, and have known them on and off ever since—I have often seen him give her money—tie last amount was 12l. in December last—it was from a patient of Mr. White* head—Sutton had a practice 11 or 12 years ago in Regent Square and all at 64, Guildford Street—it was a good practice; one of his patients paid him 20l., and out of it she received 12l.—I was the landlady at 64, Guildford Street at that time—I have not been in their bedroom, but have lived in the house and knew they occupied the same bedroom—I left there about nine years ago—I saw the dressmaker in March last making a dress, and
Mrs. Louis told me Sutton had made her a present—nothing was said about the velveteen—she went out pleasuring with him—nothing was said about burning a pawnticket—Sutton left Regent Square a few months ago—he had his name plate on the door, but I could not say if Dr. Miller's name was there—Sutton had an account at the Birkbeck Bank and bought house—he was carrying on business as a doctor in Regent Square in 1878, and had a good practice, and also at 64, Guildford Street, and did not appear to be in want of money—I was not present when he paid for his house—I have seen certain deeds—when I first knew him he had the house, 15, Regent Square, and there was some furniture there—I knew it in 1878—I was a continual visitor—I saw Mrs. Louis frequently, but she was not called Mrs. Sutton—Sutton did not say what the 12l. was for which he handed to her—she said the velveteen was a present from him—I have had no conversation with her about this case—I was subpœnaed by the Treasury.
Cross-examined. I did not know he was convicted for forging trade marks; not since I have known him, or that he has been in prison for 12 months for procuring a man to be falsely registered on the medical register in the name of Smith—I have not been on friendly terms with him—I went to identify him, and have visited him in Newgate.
Re-examined, I was a friend of Miss Louis—I have no interest in this case.
By the COURT. I was a witness in the furniture case, and it was upon my evidence Mr. Justice Field decided.
SARAH MAZONI . I know Miss Louis, and have known the prisoner as Dr. Sutton 17 or 18 years she called at my house in Burton Street in April last when Sutton was out on remand from Bow Street—she said, "Will you send your husband to Mr. Sutton"—she wanted to arrange the affair—she said, "I will do nothing if he will leave me alone"—she said, "If it is the medicine he wants, he can have it," meaning the patent medicine—I have visited 15, Regent Square, some time ago—I do not recollect Miss Louis mentioning a pawnticket, or about having bought velveteen from Sutton—she was called Mrs. Louis—I never heard her called Mrs. Sutton—I remember her going to Gravesend—Sutton paid expenses.
HENRY WESTON . I was Sutton's landlord, at 15, Regent Square—I let him the house unfurnished in 1868 for three years, and in February 1870 he gave up possession and cancelled the agreement, which was transferred over to Mrs. Louis—he paid the rent and was a very good tenant—he had a plate on the door, but I do not remember seeing a plate of Dr. Miller—Mrs. Louis was my tenant since 1870, and Sutton has not resided there since to my knowledge—his brass plate was taken down when Mrs. Louis took the house—he called himself M.D.
CHARLES CHAPMAN . I am manager to Mr. Wood, the pawnbroker, and have known Sutton 12 years—he never bought anything himself, but has introduced customers—he has been there frequently with Mrs. Louis when she came to purchase articles—I took a sealskin jacket worth 40l., to 15, Regent Square—Sutton asked me to take it—I did not leave it—she tried it on, but it was not purchased—I have never sent other things for her to try on.
GUILTY **.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
ALFRED POTTER (Policman N 425). Just, before 3 a.m., on 24th July, I saw the prisoner coming across a field near Rectory Road, Hackney, and on seeing me he stooped down in a cutting—I went towards him and he got up and ran away—I followed him into Evering Road, and I caught him after he had got over two walls—I said, "What did you run away for?"—he mumbled something and caught hold of my coat and resisted me—I said, "Let go my coat"—he would not and I drew my truncheon and struck him on the arm, and he said, "Don't knock me about, and I'll go quiet"—two other constables came up and I gave him into their hands, and went back and found this parcel which he had dropped in the Evering Road while running—it contained this dress (produced)—I saw him searched at the station and saw the articles produced found about him in different pockets.
Cross-examined. He was going towards his home when I first saw him—I did not hear him say, "I was lying on some grass and two men came and threw them down by my side"—he was sober—I found this knife upon him—I have learnt that he is a working man, and have made inquiries about his character and find nothing against him—I have seen Mr. Graves, foreman of the platelayers of the Metropolitan Railway—the prisoner did not tell me he had been drinking with a man named Freeman, got too much, and lay down to sleep under a hedge—he told me that he saw two men throw some things over a wall, and that he picked them up—he did not say that no doubt they took him for a detective—I took my truncheon out when he resisted, he would have gone if I had not got help—he was carrying the bundle in his hand openly when I first saw him.
GEORGE DUDMAN (Police Inspector). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought in—I told him to take his coat off, and I found these salt cellars and cruet and silver articles in the coat pockets—this drab dress was underneath his coat, and this piece of silk was inside his trousers below the waistband, and other articles were in his trousers pockets and in various parts of his dress—I asked him his name and address, and he refused to. give it—I said, "You will save a good deal of trouble if you will tell us where you got the things"—he said, "I was lying on some grass and two men came along and threw them down, and I picked them up"—and he said three or four hours afterwards in the cell, "I should have taken them to Hackney Police-station"—I went at about 10.30 to 4, Sandford Place, and found all the rooms in confusion, the catch of the kitchen window had been put back, and the bottom of the window raised and the shutters forced—this knife, or any knife, would force back the catch—there were marks as if something had been passed—I found this knife in the prisoner's pocket—Sanford Place is about 70 yards from where he was found.
ALICE MARIA WEBSTER . I am wife of Samuel Webster, 5, Sanford Place, next door to this house—about 10 a.m. on the 23rd I went into Mr. Harvey's house next door, No. 4, and saw the kitchen window fastened up and the shutters secure, and the house quite safe and undisturbed—the family were away in Scotland, and Mr. Harvey left the key with me, and I went in in the morning to see if there were any letters, and saw that the house was safe—I went in next morning about the same time, and found the house in confusion, and the kitchen window forced,
and the shutter opened—no one else had a key but myself—I communicated with the police.
FREDERICK HOOPER HARVEY . I am the prosecutor—the property produced is all mine, value about 120l.—I left it safe in the house, and left the key with Mrs. Webster to take care of the house while I was away.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, August 6th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
FRANCISCO ANTONIO PETROSO D'ALBERQUERQUE . I keep an hotel at 13, America Square, Minories—the prisoner came to lodge there one Sunday morning about a month ago—the next morning about 8 o'clock I heard him say he was going on board his ship, the Austria, of which he said he was the first engineer, to put the second engineer to work—he went away and returned in about an hour and a half, and said his vessel was not in dock yet, that it was outeide the basin, as there was not enough water for it—I said, "It is a very large boat, isn't it?"—he said, "It is a very large boat"—I said, "What line does it belong to?"—he said, "It belongs to the Anchor line"—I said, "Don't you know Zambruski, who serves your line and receives passengers from your steamers?"—he said, "Zambruski, Zambruski, I don't remember exactly"—after breakfast he came to the bar and asked the barmaid, Agnes Cato, for a sovereign, as he had no money till the ship came in—she came to me, and I said "It is not customary for me to lend money to any one"—he said, "As soon as the vesseliomes into the dock I shall have my wages"—I looked in the visitors' book (produced), in which he had written "J. Leslie, Engineer, New York"—I said, "I will let you have a sovereign, don't ask me for any more"—he said, "I will receive the money to-day, and will bring the money for you to keep"—he brought me a paper between 10 and 11 o'clock which purported to be an order from the captain to the ship-owners, Messrs. Henderson and Co., 19, Leadenhall Street, for 25l. on account of wages—I kept the' paper, which I thought was good—he asked me for another sovereign, which I let him have through Miss Agnes—he said he was going with two gentlemen to the Kilburn Show—he went out after dinner and returned again about 12 p.m.—he said, "I left the two gentlemen at the European, opposite the Mansion House; they wish to go out for a little amusement, and I too, and we have not got enough money for that"—the gentlemen were staying at my hotel—he asked me for 2l. further on account of his money, which he said he wanted to share with them for this spree—I gave him the 21., and he said, "I have a friend outside in a cab waiting for me," and he brought a young lady in—he went away with her—next morning he came down about 8.15, took out two or three keys and a pen-knife and said, "If I had taken your advice I would not have been like this"—he said, "I am going on board the ship now to see the engineer's work. I am penniless to-day; now give me a sovereign and don't have breakfast till I come back"
—I gave him another sovereign and he came back and breakfasted at my expense—I took the Mercantile Shipping Gazette and looked for the name of the Austria, and saw nothing about it—I said, "What a funny thing that the name of the ship is not in the Gazetteer"—he said, "Not in the Gazetteer?"—I said, "No, look," and he took it and tried to make me believe he was looking—he had previously asked me for the paper for him to go to Henderson's to receive the 25l.—I gave it to him and was going with him—he tried to go out and I said, "No, stop, sir, one moment I will go with you as soon as I put my boots on"—he tried to go and the barmaid stopped him—I took a cigar and gave him one to smoke, and we went out at the back door—he said, "Send for a cab"—I said, "It is so near we shall not require a cab"—then we walked to Billiter Street, where he said he was ill, and he took me to the Imperial Hotel at the corner of Billiter Street—we went in and he asked me to have something to drink—I said, "No"—he said, "Take a claret and lemonade"—I said, "Very well, when you come back"—he wished to leave me at the bar, but I followed him to the lavatory and stopped at the door—he was there ten minutes; then we came up to the bar and took claret and lemonade—by Lime Street and Billiter Square, when close to Henderson's, he said he had forgotten his pocket-book and had left it at the lavatory—we went back and in two minutes he returned with a pocket-book in his hand—we then went to 19, Leadenhall Street—he went inside a room—the door is half glass—I said, "I will stop outside," but I walked in and through the door I could see him talking to a junior clerk, I believe, and then the junior clerk called another clerk—he came out and I said, "Where is the money?"—he said, "They send me to the dock again"—I said, "How is it you never presented the order?"—he said, "I left the order in my room in the hotel"—he came outside—I held his hand and said, "If you don't walk with me very quietly to the police-station, or if you run from me, I will catch you and you shall have plenty of crowd behind you"—I took him to the police* station—I was present on each occasion of his obtaining the money, which I parted with believing his representations—I have never got a farthing of the 5l.
THOMAS NASH (city Policeman 819). I saw the prisoner at Seething Lane Police-station on 8th July—he said he was chief engineer of the ship Austria, then lying in the Thames—this pocket-book and letters were found on him (produced)—this paper is a discharge of a seaman named Bauer—we have since found that that is his name.
AGNES CATO . I am barmaid to the prosecutor, I gave the prisoner his breakfast on the Sunday morning—I gave him the visitors' book, and saw him write his name in it—those other two names were written in before—I brought him the bill on the Sunday morning and he said, "You need not mind the bill just now, I am going to stop all day"—then he said, "What are your charges?"—I gave him one of our cards and he said, "I dare say I shall be as well treated here as anywhere else"—I said, "Certainly you will be well treated"—he told me he was chief engineer on board the Austria, and I told the prosecutor—I gave him the money in question by direction of the prosecutor.
JOSEPH SIMPSON . I am marine superintendent to the Anchor Line, the owners of which are Messrs. Henderson, of Glasgow, and 19, Leadenhall Street—we have no ship called the Austria, but we have one called the Australia—I know the officers in that ship—I do not know the prisoner;
he has not been in our service—if he were in our London service I should know it—Glasgow and Liverpool I cannot answer for.
JOHN DUDDEN (City Policeman 757). I searched the prisoner at Seething Lane Station, on 8th July, and found the papers produced on him, which I handed to Chief-Inspector Hunt—I heard the prisoner say he was chief engineer on board the Austria, and that his name was Bauer.
MR. MILLWOOD Prosecuted; MR. COLE Defended.
The Jury not agreeing they were discharged witlwut a verdict. See Fourth Court, Thursday.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, August 7th, 1879.
Before Mr. Justice Field.
MR. A. B. KELLY Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, August 7th, 1879.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. M. WILLIAMS and BENTINCK Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
Maskell; MR. FRITH Defended Goodwin.
RICHARD WILDEY (Police Inspector K). About 11 p.m., Saturday, 12th July, I was with Sergeants Smith and Waller in Mile End Road, and saw the three prisoners and some women standing together, apparently examining something—when within 5 or 6 yards of them they saw us, and Maskell and Goodwin moved off towards Jubilee Street—Thompson backed himself against the shutters of a shop which was closed, and tried to sidle off in another direction—Waller caught Goodwin, and Smith caught Thompson—the three prisoners were brought together, and I said, "What have you got about you?"—Thompson said, "Nothing"—I then took this new watch
(produced) from his left-hand trousers pocket—I said, "Where did you get this?"—he said, "I bought it"—I said, "Where,?" and he made no reply—I said, "I shall charge you all three with having this watch in you possession, and not satisfactorily accounting for it"—Thompson was fidgetty on the way to the station, and I called to Smith to see that he did not throw anything away, and I saw Smith take another watch from Thompsons right hand—he said, "I don't know anything about them; I had only just come up"—at the station Smith produced another watch and chain, and I saw Waller take this (a scarf-pin) from the inside of Maskell's coat—Maskell said "I bought it in the Earl Grey public-house for 4d."—they were then formally charged with having the articles in their possession—Thompson said, "You never took that watch from me"—subsequently, in consequence of information received, on the morning of 13th Jury I went to a jeweller's shop, 205, Whitechapel Road, and found this piece of plate-glass had been cut from the window, and saw tickets hanging in the window without any watches attached—I saw the three prisoners afterwards in the cells, and told them they would be charged with the burglary—Thompson said, "You cannot charge us with the burglary because nobody saw us do it"—whilst waiting subsequently at the police-court Thompson said, "I bought three watches in the Earl Grey of a man for 30s. "
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I found nothing on Goodwin.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The prisoners were standing outside the Earl Grey with the women, and they all separated when we came up.
Cross-examined by Thompson. I knew the women about the streets.
JOHN SMITH (Police Sergeant R). I have heard Inspector Wildey's evidence, and it is quite true—I felt the watch in Thompson's pocket—he got it out, and I took it in his hand—I searched him further on, and found the watch and chain in his left-hand pocket—I knew the prisoners, and have seen them together before frequently.
WILLIAM WALLER (Police Sergeant K). I have heard the evidence of Wildey and Smith, and it is quite true—I found this pin pinned under the collar of Maskell's coat at the station—I found subsequently that the shop of Mr. Gross, Commercial Road, had been broken into in the same way the previous night—it is nearly half a mile from Haber's shop.
CHARLES GROSS . I am assistant to Alfred Copeland, 12 to 16, Commercial Road—my premises were broken into on Friday, 11th July, and a quantity of property taken from the window—this pin is a portion of the property.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The pin is imitation gold—we buy them at a wholesale warehouse in small quantities—it would sell at 1s. 10d.—we had not another pin of that pattern in the shop—there were a great many of them at the manufacturer's—we also keep valuable jewellery, on which we put a private mark—we do not mark the cheap pins—this (pin) is not marked—I know it by the make, and it is exactly like the one that was stolen the night bofore.
ADALBERT HABER . I conduct my father's business at 205, Whitechapel Road—I saw the premises safe at 10.30 p.m. on Saturday, July 12th, and discovered at 11.20 that the window had been broken open, and I missed seven watches from the window, value about 12l.—these (produced) are three of them.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Maskell says: "I am innocent." Thompson says: "I was in the Earl Grey when a man said he had a prize
of three silver watches. He called me to one side, and I came outside thinking I had a prize, with one watch in my hand and two in my pocket, and I showed it to these two men, the other prisoners, and while showing it to them the police took the lot of us. I do not know either of the two young men the other prisoners; I never saw them in my life before." Goodwin says: "On the 12th inst., just before I was taken, I was in the Sovereign drinking. I then went home and borrowed 8d. of my mother, and I said to Jim and George, who are lodgers at my mother's,' We will go over to the Earl Grey and have a drink of beer,' and which we all did. Soon after this young man Thompson said, 'Here is a prize I've got' I said, 'Is it? Show me,' and he showed me, and I then walked away and spoke to a girl. While I was talking, these two young men the prisoners came and talked to her also, and while standing there the police took us all in custody. I said, 'I know nothing about this,' while I was walking along with them."
Cross-examined by Thompson. I knew you by sight as an associate of thieves or I should not have taken you—we came up to you quite promiscuously.
By the JURY. Thompson was not drunk—the glass had been cut with a diamond, but no tools were found.
Thompson in his defence repeated in substance his former statement.
GUILTY . The JURY recommended Goodwin to mercy.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
THOMAS HOLLIDAY . I am a watch-case maker out of business, and live at 1, Belgrave Terrace, Hollo way—my mother's name was Mary Ann Holliday, and I had for a considerable period allowed her money, and for the last 12 months 10s. a week—at Christmas I sent her 10s. 6d., and made it up 10s. a week from that time, and sent it by post-office order fortnightly—the order of 14th June was the last I sent—it was addressed to my mother from Holloway to 9, Redman's Road, Mile End Road, where she lodged the last time I heard of her, payable to Maria Holliday—I did not know she had then been dead over nine months and was buried by the parish—I. never authorised the prisoner to sign my mother's name—I received an anonymous letter on 16th June, saying that my mother was dead—my brother Joseph was living with her, and is now on the parish.
HENRY HILLS MORGAN . I am a clerk in the post-office, 148, Mile End Road, and have known the prisoner from time to time coming obtaining money on Mr. Holliday's post-office orders—I did not pay the last order myself, but paid several previously, and she has signed several in my presence—this (produced) is her handwriting—I always believed her to be Mrs. Holliday—she always signed "Mary Holliday."
EMMA HOLLIDAY , I live at 7, Upper John Street, Hoxton, and am the prosecutor's niece—I went to the prisoner's house, Redman's Row, on 14th June, and asked to see my grandmother—the prisoner said "You cannot see her"—I said "How is she?"—she said "Your grandmother is quite well"—I said "Why can't I see her?"—she said "You have not come here to
see your grandmother"—I said "I have; I want to know if she is doing well, if she is quite well in health"—she said "she is better off than ever she was in her life"—she did not tell me she had been dead nine months—I had been to see my grandmother before.
JAMES BIRDEN (Detective Sergeant). I went to 137, Burdett Road, Stepney, and saw the prisoner on 27th June—I said "Are you Mrs. Wilson?"—she said "Yes"—I said "Have you a party named Mrs. Holliday living with you at 9, Redman's Road?"—she said she had—I said "You will have to go to Arbour Square with me for forging some postoffice orders"—she said "Mrs. Holliday told me to do it"—I said "Mrs. Holliday could not have told you, as she has been dead for the last nine months"—she said "I have signed the orders for the son, Joseph Holliday, who received the money, and I have received no benefit."
HENRY TRITON . I am a clerk in the Money Order Office of the General Post Office—I produce 19 orders, dated from 7th October, 1878, to 14th June, 1879, all paid, one for 10s., some 19s., and some for 18s.—they usually came every fortnight, on Saturdays—they are all signed Mary Holliday, as in the order of 14th June for 19s., and in the same handwriting.
SARAH DAVIS . I live at 9, Redman's Row, where the prisoner kept lodgings and where Mrs. Holliday lived—I knew her well—I used to go in and out—I saw her last on 16th October—the prisoner on 18th October told me Mrs. Holliday was dead—I said "Are you not going to write to the son and let him know? it is very cruel to let her be buried by the house"—I believe she said she would let him know—I never saw the orders—I was upstairs when Miss Holliday came to ask for her grandmother, and heard a few words pass—I heard the prisoner say "She is better off than ever she was in her life"—Joseph Holliday lived in the house with the prisoner, and had lodged with the mother—I believe the money went to support him since her death.
NOT GUILTY . There were other indictments upon which no evidence was offered.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.
MARY RYMAN . I am a widow at Tachbrook Street, Pimlico—I was alone walking along Hatton Garden about 10.30 on 24th July, carrying this small leather bag on my arm, when a person came behind me and threw me on the road and tried to take my bag, but I screamed for the police, who came immediately, and the man ran away—my arm was hurt a good deal, and the skin grazed—my bag contained about 1l. 3s. in money and various articles—the man was brought back to me in a few minutes after, but I could not recognise him as I had not seen his face—my elbow was hurt, but not seriously.
ALFRED BARNES (Policeman G R 18). At 10.30 on 24th July I was in uniform standing in a dark place, opposite Perry and Stoneham's ware-house in Hatton Garden, and saw the old lady coming towards me, and two.
young men near her, one on each side, but a little in front, going in the same direction—when they saw me they closed together and walked on in front of her—I had some suspicion as I had seen the prisoner about before—I came out of the dark place into the roadway and watched them for some few yards, and then followed them—they walked beside the old lady, one on each side, till they got by No. 92, another very dark place—when I saw her pushed into the road and saw her fall I ran up at once, and she called out "Police "as she lay on the ground—the two men ran towards Leather Lane and I after them, and I caught the prisoner about 150 yards from the spot and never lost sight of him—I said "I want you"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For knocking an old lady down in Hatton Garden"—he said, "I know nothing of it, I was not there"—I took him back to the lady, but she failed to recognise him; and then I charged him myself—the other man got away into Holborn.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You put a pipe in your mouth just before I caught hold of you.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent. I was round a different turning altogether, and a lot of people in the crowd said to the policeman "That is not the man, they have just run round there."
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. HUMPHREY Defended Jackson.
EUZARETH BROWNING . I am a dressmaker at 4, Florence Cottages, Park Road, Hounslow—about 11 p.m. on 19th July I was returning home with my supper beer when Evans and Gwillam followed me, spit in my face, and blackguarded me—I had seen Evans before, but never had any conversation with her—Gwillam knocked me down, tore my shawl off, and struck me, and Evans punched me when I was down—they gave me two black eyes and knocked a tooth out—I had a watch attached to a cord round my neck—Gwillam dragged it out of my watch-pocket while I was down—I screamed for help, and the witness George came up and pulled her off me—I said, "She has got my watch," and he took it from her hand—there were seven militiamen there, one was had up at Brentford last Saturday, but I could not swear to him, so he was punished for having my earring in his possession—when George pulled the woman off me Jackson ran at me and kicked me in the side—I was still on the ground—I had not seen him before, he was with the seven when they began the attack—the militiamen stood aside while the girls assaulted me; but there were so many there, and I was so covered with blood and mud I could not recognise the others, and as soon as I got up I ran home—I afterwards gave a description to the police, and the next day George brought me my watch.
Cross-examined by Gwillam. I was not fighting—I informed the police as soon as I was able to leave my bed—I did not know where you lived.
Cross-examined by Evans. I was not in the Bed Lion till 11 o'clock—I did not commence the row.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREY. It was after George had taken the watch from Gwillam that Jackson struck me—the other militiamen were striking George—I did not see Jackson at the station, or charge him that eyening—I first pointed him out at the police-court—no other militiamen were called when I charged him—I had never seen George before, he came up while the two women were beating me—I had never seen Jackson before.
Re-examined. I cried out, "Police?" and "Murder?"—I told the police that seven militiamen and the two girls attacked me.
CHARLES GEORGE . I am a labourer at the Powder Mills, and live at Staines Road, Hounslow; near the Bell public-house I heard screams on 19th, at 11.15 p.m.—I went up and saw Gwillam on top of the prosecutrix on the ground—I heard her say, "I have lost my watch"—I pushed Gwillam off and took the watch out of her hand—Evans was standing by—there were six or seven militiamen—I saw Jackson, but did not see him do anything—the prosecutrix ran away, and I had to run for my life—I gave her the watch next morning—I have often seen Jackson before passing the lane where I lived—I know where one of the women used to live with her aunt.
Cross-examined by william. I had not been to your house with Evans, and was not drunk, nor in your company from 8 to 11—I was not with Evans that evening—I saw you once in the town when you spoke to me, but I did not know you—I did not sleep with Evans the previous Saturday night—it was dark when I took the watch from your hand—I do not know who was on the top—I did not give the prosecutrix my own watch to prosecute you with.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREY. I was at the police-station when Jackson was given in charge—I did not know the prosecutrix, and had never spoken to her before.
THOMAS HARRIS (Policeman 559 T). About 9 am., on 28th, the prosecutrix complained to me and described two females, and I went to a public-house and saw the female prisoners—I waited till they came out and then. told them that Miss Browning had charged them with stealing a watch and shawl—they said they did not—they gave me their address, I went there and the landlady handed me this shawl, which the prosecutrix identified—I have seen them about before, but do not know Jackson.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREY. I was present when Jackson was given in charge—I saw him at the police-station before that—he came up behind me when I took the female prisoners.
Re-examined. He was with them in the public-house when I took them.
JOHN BRAGKEKBURY (Policeman T 133). Gwillam made a voluntary" statement to me on the 21st, while conveying her to the police-court—she said, "I know nothing about the watch. I saw Lizzie (Evans) fighting with the prosecutrix, I went up and we all fought together. A militiaman picked up the shawl and gave it to me, and I took it home"—I know the two females, but not Jackson.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREY. I was present when Jackson was given in charge in the police-court—I was not at the station.
The Prisoners" Statements. Gwillam says, "Jackson is not the militia
man that gave me the shawl The statement of the witness is false."
Evans says, "I had nothing to do with the robbery • when it occurred I was up the road; I went back and saw the prosecutrix hitting Gwillam,"
Jackson says, "I plead not guilty of any robbery or any assault"
Gwillam in her Defence repeated her former statement.
Evans's Defence. The prosecutrix hit me and I hit her back. She said she would fight my chap, and ran after me with a bonnet and shawl.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, August 7th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
693. THOMAS ALFRED TEMPLE to forging and uttering an authority for the delivery of 6 lb. of tea and 2 boxes, also to obtaining by false pretences from the Civil Service Supply Association 5 lb, of tea.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
694. THOMAS JOHNSON (27) to obtaining goods by false pretences from Robert Woolnough and others, with Intent to defraud.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MESSRS. WILLES and MILLWOOD Proseeuted; MESSES. COLE and BUCK Defended.
ASSAM (Interpreted). I am steward on board the Wagoola, lying in theSouth West India Docks—I went to the prisoners' house, 55, Brook Street at 9.30 am. on 11th July to see my friend Mahoy—I saw a woman there, and said, "Is my friend in?"—she asked me to shake hands—I did not know her—the two prisoners asked me in,'and as soon as I got in Afow drove me upstairs into an empty room, and said "You want my woman," and he then struck me with a spittoon, and stabbed me with a knife on the head—Rwa ran upstairs to help Afow, and knocked me down on the floor—Afow took my watch (produced)—this is not my chain—mine was half gold and half silver—Rwa took four sovereigns from my trousers pocket—Afow told Rwa to bring some water to wash me—Rwa gave Afow the water, and they lifted me up, and drove me downstairs, and pushed me out at the door, and kicked me in the back; Afow said "Ytm may do anything you like, I am not afraid of you; I have been in England so long a time, and I have never been charged by anybody"—I did not see a woman upstairs—when I was being beaten the woman ran upstairs—I first complained to the police on 16th July.
Cross-examined. It must be more than eight weeks since I came to England—I was transferred from a ship to the Wagoola; they both belong to the same firm—I went on board the Wagoola on 7th July; I stopped on shore ten days; I was discharged from the other ship on 27th June—I did
not say at the police-court that Rwa acted as cook, or that the woman Hicks was Afow's servant—the evidence was interpreted, and read over to me—I said "He took a knife from his trousers pocket similar to the pocket-knife produced, and stabbed me in the head with it; the blood came out, and Rwa struck me"—I also said "Afow struck me in the eye with a spittoon; it became black"—I had never been previously to Afow's—I was not asked to pay 24s. to Afow for board and lodging—I never spoke to Afow while I was being knocked about—Maboy had gone away in his ship—I did not put my arm round the woman, and say "Let me kiss you," or try to have connection with her—I did not go into Sullivan's, the shoemaker's, during the ten days, and play with the baby—I have said before to-day that I gave the prisoners in charge the day after the robbery.
Re-examined. The name of my former ship was the Alfred Hawley; I was steward on board that ship—when on shore I lodged in the house of a Chinese friend named Assing—I saw him here this morning—I did not go on shore during the interval of my being on board the Wagoola and going to Afow's house.
GEORGE BROWN . I am chief officer of the "Wagoola, and have previously sailed with Assam on board the Alfred Hawley, wh ch we left on 27th June for the Wagoola—I went on board that ship directly; and Assam came on 7th July—three or four days after he joined he came to me to ask leave to go ashore—he went about 9 o'clock, and came back after dinner—he had blood running down his face, and his eye and nose were black—the cut on his head was about the top of the back part of the skull—I don't know what Assam did from the time he left the other ship till he came on board the Wagoola—he was living at No. 12, Limehouse Causeway, and that is where I sent for him when I wanted him to join the ship—it is a boarding-house for Chinese—I saw him paid his money by the captain, and I am certain he had 5l. with him when he went ashore—I used to keep his money for him—Assam has to do what I tell him.
Cross-examined. I was examined here yesterday, and said afterwards to the Jury and people outside that I gave him 51.—I am not telling a falsehood—I came to England with Assam about nine weeks ago in the Alfred Hawley, the day before the Queen's birthday was kept—I gave Assam a fortnight's liberty on shore—I saw him about seven times during that time in Limehouse Causeway—I know Assam came on board the Wagoola on 7th July, because I keep a memorandum of those things—I have not got it with me—I was not at the police-court—I made my first application the day before yesterday, and gave evidence yesterday—I do not talk Chinese—I communicate with Assam in English—I do not know where Afow lives—Limehouse Causeway is about three quarters of a mile from the Wagoola.
Re-examined. I only answered what I was asked yesterday, and immediately afterwards I mentioned the 51.—the seven times I saw Assam he was at the boarding-house.
GEORGE MORRELL (Police Sergeant K 3). On 29th July I went to Afow's, 55, Brook Street—I saw a female at the door—I said "Is the governor in?"—she said "Yes"—she asked me my name—I was followed by Sergeant. Talbot and Assam—Afow came out of the bedroom after he had been called, and Rwa came upstairs—Assam identified them, and I charged, them with. stealing a watch and chain, and 41. from Assam—they made no reply at first—the woman Hicks said "I will get you the watch," and she went into the room where Afow had been sleeping, and took it off a shelf, and broke the
chain off saying "That chain does not belong to him, but belongs to a woman next door"—Assam claimed the watch, and I took Afow and Hicks to the station.
Cross-examined. Assam followed us to the house—I knew from Assam what we were going there for—I was not told by him to take Afow, Ewa, and the female into custody—I first got information from the captain of the ship—Hicks was charged with being concerned in the robbery, and afterwards discharged—she was bound over, and she gave her evidence yesterday on the prisoner's behalf, as also Sullivan—I did not know where the boarding-house was—I snatched the watch and chain from Hicks—Assam did not claim the chain—I know very little of the Chinese boarding-houses at the East-End of London—I have been to No. 12, Limehouse Causeway five or six times—it is kept by Mr. Cuba: that is Assing—I went there twice last Monday to see him, but did not see him till the second time.
RICHARD TALBOT (Police Sergeant K). I took Rwa on 29th July at 55, Brook Street, Batcliff—Morrell, Hicks, Afow, and Assam were there—I charged him with being concerned with Afow and Hicks in stealing a watch and chain and 4l. from Assam—he said nothing, but struggled to get away—I searched him at the station, and found on him 71. in gold, 2s. 6d. in silver, and 4d. in bronze—when the charge was read over Hicks said that Afow struck Assam in the eye with a spittoon, and that she ran away—Ewa said the money was his—I heard nothing about an attempted rape on the woman till they were at the police-court.
Cross-examined. Assam went with me to the house—I knew what I was going to the house for, hut not bom Assam—I knew notmne'bout ft! woman fall I got there—I do not talk Chinese-Raw talked English well enough for me to understend-Afow and Hicks were in Morrell'scustody—Raw came up from the kitchen, and laid hold of him by the arm—I do not wear uniform.
Cross-examined. A Mr. Green is security for my house—I never saw Assam before he stopped with me—I sell wine, spirits, and beer at the meals—I have no book with me—I have been in England over four weeks, I cannot remember exactly how long—I was steward on board the Amtricsn ship Andrew Johnson, which came to Bwmen—I am going to sea again as soon as I get a ship—I have been a long time in the American Navy, and am a Chinese—I have been away from China ever since I was a boy.
Re-examined. I pay rent for my house weekly—I know it is more than four weeks since 27th June—I have shown the book to the detective.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HARRIETTE HICKS . In July last I was living at 5, Brook Street, Ratcliff, with Afow, as his wife, and keeping a Chinese boarding-house—Assam came there on 5ft or 8ft July, and stayed 12 or 13 days—he did not pay for his board and lodging—on 17th July I was sweeping one of the back rooms upstaus which is used by black people who come to smoke—Assam came into the room and said "Kiss me'-ll said "If Afow comes he will puneh you"—he put his arm round my waist and said "Let me have a short time"—I said "No"—I spoke loudly, waist and Afow came in andspoke in Chinese in a tone of remonstrance-Afow struck Assam twice in the face with his open hand, and then struck him on the head with a
spittoon—I remained there about five minutes, and then went downstai into Afow's bedroom—Assam was wearing a chain of a snake pattern, parti gold and partly brass—on the previous day, the 16th, I went into Mr. Sullivan's, next door—Assam came in and took the baby—we were talkie about money, and he said "I have no money until Saturday; my ship wi be paid off on Saturday or Monday," and he took out 6d. and sent for quart of ale—he drank some and left, and I went back—on the day of the assault Afow gave me Assam's watch, and told me to lay it on the mante shelf, and said "Assam owes me 24*. for 13 days' board; it he comes fo his watch and pays the money, give it him."
By the COURT. I believe I have said this before—I placed a black chain on it and hung it on the mantelshelf, and when the police came they had I from me—the blow with the spitttoon brought blood—Assam never came for his watch till 29th July, when he charged Afow with robbing him.
Cross-examined. The house has six rooms, and is in the main roadAssam had the first-floor back and slept in the front—we had another man in the house, who, I believe, is at sea—I never noticed the day he came—Afow keeps his books in Chinese—I do not understand them—I am sure! never heard the name of the other man lodging in the house—Assam neve: came to the door and asked for a man—I have beard the name Ahoy a Mahoy; I believe we had a man in the house of that name—I heard the name a few days before the occurrence—he went away two or three days after the assault on Assam—the first time I saw Assam was in the kitchen washing his teeth—I did not say at the police-court that I should not have objected to Assam's conduct if Afow had not been there—after Afow struck Assam I believe the latter left the house and went down to the ship—I did not see Afow push him out of the house—Afow had no knife while I was in the room—he has a knife at home, the pocket-knife produced at the police-court—Afow told the policeman that Assam had assaulted me criminally—I don't know why I did not complain to the police.
Re-examined. I preferred to complain to Afow.
Cross-examined. I cannot fix the date—I believe he has the same boots on now—(Examining them)—no, they are not the same—they are not the same that he had on yesterday—I have known Hicks seven months, since she has lived there—I heard of an assault being committed at Afow's house on the Tuesday as he left on the Thursday—Hicks and the prosecutor were in my house two or three davs before—I mended his boots on the Tuesday.
HARRIETTS SULLIVAN . I am the daughter of the last witness, and live with her—I know the prisoners, and Hicks and Assam—I know Assam stopped at Afow's about a week—he used to come into my mother's and play with the baby and give it a penny or a halfpenny—I have done work for Afow, and I have seen Assam since he went there on 7th or 8th July—I used to make his bed in the morning, and he used to ask me to take up the lamp before I left.
Cross-examined. This is the first time I have given evidence—I went up to the police-court and saw Assam—the solicitor came to me about giving evidence—he asked what I knew and I told him—I was here yesterday.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
697. CHARLES BERNARD ANNOOT (54) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling 200l., 400l., and 791l. 16s. 6d., the moneys of Edward Radley, his master; also 676l. 2s. 10d., 169l. 18s. 9d., and 3(51. 5s. 9d.; also 149l. 1s. 9d. and 377l. 13s. 3d., of his said master, who recommended him to mercy.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Friday and Saturday, August 8th and 9th, 1879.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MESSRS. WILDEY WRIGHT and TENNISWOOD Defended Dilley; MESSRS. WARNER SLEIGH and LINDSELL Defended Rainbow.
WILLIAM STOCKS . I am a labourer, and live at 6, Retreat Cottages, Pinehill, Upper Clapton—on Monday, 12th May, I was engaged in repairing a wall in the Green Lanes opposite the Manor House about 7.40 a.m.—while I was taking some bricks off the wall I saw a brown paper parcel laid up against the wall, about 40 or 45 yards away from the road—there is a little roadway leading from the main road up to the wall—I went down to the parcel—the paper was lying open—I looked Under the paper and saw the dead body of a little child—a little flannel was wrapped over its feet—I had some mates working at a little distance from me—I went up to them and called them, and one of them came back with me—we did not move the parcel—my mate put his trowel and just pulled the paper on one side, and saw the child lying with its hand on the chest—I looked at the child and saw a bit of yellow stuff coming out of its mouth on to its chin—I put a mortar-board in front of the child and went for a policeman, and the constable Boittault came up, and he in my presence picked the child up and turned it over—I noticed a little hole on the head where it bad been dropped on a bit of brick—when I first saw it its head was lying on a bit of brick—I picked up the piece of brick and gave it to the constable—this is it (produced)—it has been burnt since—Finsbury Park is the nearest railway-station to the place where I found the child; that is about a mile—the wall was about 4 or 5 feet high before I commenced to take the bricks off—the parcel was lying close to the wall, leaning against it.
Cross-examined by MR. WILDEY WRIGHT. There is a hedge all round the field where I found the child, but a gap to go through, and there are gates at the bottom of the wall—there were a number of small broken pieces of brick about the place where I found the body, but nothing to hurt like this—the hole on the back of the head appeared to be where it had dropped on the brick—there was hardly any blood except just on the brick, that was all—the place is in the immediate neighbourhood of Hornsey.
Re-examined. The brick was not wet—I don't know whether it had been raining on the Sunday night; I don't think it had—the constable took possession of the brick at the time—I say it has been burnt since because the colour is lighter and drier, that is all.
By the COURT. The place where I found the child was 40 or 45 yards from the high road—there is a little path going up to it—there is a pair of gates for a cart to come in—I had not moved the body of the child at all before the constable came.
HERBERT BOITTAULT (Policeman Y 276). On Monday morning, 12th May, about 8 o'clock, I was on duty in the Green Lanes, Hornsey Stocks came and spoke to me, and in consequence of what he said I went from the Green Lanes across a field, or piece of waste ground—there are some gates at the end—this rough plan (produced) correctly represents the place—the Green Lane is the main road—I went through a gap across the field—the gap was about 100 yards down the Green Lanes from the Seven Sisters Road—the gap is marked on the plan—it leads to a brick wall at the end of the field—the brick wall goes along by the side of a private road—the gates at the end of the private road are boarded gates, what are called matchboard gates or frame gates—they were shut and locked at that time—I got from the gap into the field—I did not see the body of the child till I got to the wall—I found the body about 10 yards from the Green Lanes, on the private road aide of the wall—you would have to get over the wall from the field to get to where the body was lying—the wall was about 2ft. 6in. high when I saw it; that was where the men were at work pulling it down—the child was lying on some brown paper close to the wall—I picked it of and found it was quite dead—I noticed that there was some blood and stuff running from its nose and mouth—there was a small wound on the crown of the head—I noticed a lot of blood on a piece of brick that the head was lying on—this is the piece of brick—the child was lying on this flannel; it was round the bottom part of the body—the top part of the body was naked—this flannel was under its arms and round the back, and met in front, covering the legs—I think it was sewn on, but I am not certain about that—this linen swathe was rolled round the stomach—this apron was round the bottom part of the body, under the flannel, and fastened in the same way as the flannel—this was outside—this little shirt was on the body under the flannel—it seemed as if the flannel had slipped from the upper part of the body—there were some napkins under the whole of this clothing, and this was on the outside of one or two more—they were round its legs and the lower part of the body under the flannel—the child was cold—I took it to the station, and took charge of all these things—I sent for Mr. Berry the surgeon, and he came and examined the child—an inquest was held on Wednesday, the 14th—I gave evidence, also Mr. Berry and Stocks—the Coroner took possession of the brick—it was produced at the inquest; I saw it again at Clerkenwell Police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. WILDEY WRIGHT. The blood and stuff had been running from the nose—it was not running then—there was very little blood about the place—the body did not present a livid appearance; there was nothing particular about its appearance.
By the COURT. The blood now upon the things are stains from the postmortem examination—the entrance to the field is by an opening in the wall; there was no gate—the gates leading to the private road are about five feet six in heigh—the body was in the private road—that road leads into some gardens at the back of some houses in the Seven Sisters Road—the brown paper was unfolded, and the head and shoulders of the child laid off the paper.
MATTHEW WEST BERRY . I am a physician and surgeon, and live at Woodbine House, Hornsey Road—on Monday morning, 12th May, I was sent for to the Hornsey Road Police-station between 8 and 10 o'clock—I was there shown the body of a female child—it was partly dressed, well nourished, about a month or six weeks old; it was not vaccinated—the
pupils were contracted—I did not notice the head of the child at the station—I made a post-mortem examination the next evening—there were several contused wounds, two being lacerated and contused, at the back of the head, over the parietal bone—one was on the posterior portion of the parietal bone, about three-quarters of an inch long—there was a contused fracture—on removing the integuments of the posterior portion of the cranium a great deal of coagulated blood was found between the integuments and the brain, opposite the external seat of the wound—a quantity of blood was found extravasated between the arachnoid membranes and the brain—in the abdomen the peritoneum was healthy, the liver healthy, the kidneys healthy, the spleen healthy, the pancreas healthy, the bladder healthy, containing no urine—the lungs and small intestines were healthy, full of flatus; the heart healthy; the lungs healthy, pale pink in colour—I removed the stomach for analysis, and found that it contained milk, having a perceptible odour of opium, that is laudanum—in my opinion the cause of death was injury to the brain whilst under the action of a narcotic—the skull was fractured right over this one particular wound—there were two wounds, one much smaller than the other—I believe the smaller wound was produced by the brick—I saw the brick at the inquest; there is a small drop of coagulated blood on it now—I saw several drops of blood on it at the inquest, just where it had percolated from the small wound, and also a few hairs just similar to those in the child's head—I believe the large wound was produced by something similar to this piece of brick where the notch is—I believe that the wound on the anterior superior portion of the parietal bone, not the small one that the brick was resting on, but I believe by the contusion of the parts and the amount of blood extravasated between the arachnoid membranes and the brain, that the child was stricken by something blunt; a piece of brick or something similar; that is my opinion—I believe the child was stricken on the head during the time it was alive and under the influence of the laudanum—the smaller wound, the lower wound, may have been produced by dropping the child on to the brick, but the upper one was in a position that could not have been so produced—I believe that the child was struck by something that produced the larger wound—I do not believe that would be done by falling on the brick; I believe it must have been done by some person taking something in the hand and striking the child on the head—I could not estimate the amount of laudanum that was given, but I believe the amount the child had got was sufficient to produce a soporific effect and cause death if they had waited a proper time—any preparation of laudanum is a very dangerous thing to give to a baby—I could not tell how recently before death the milk had been swallowed—all the organs were healthy; it was a very fine child; it had the appearance of about six or seven weeks old instead of three—it was consistent with what I saw that it may have been only three weeks old—I took off the clothes to perform the postmortem, and there being nothing convenient at the mortuary to wipe my hands and instruments upon I used those, and some of the blood and mess upon the clothes have been so caused—I put the clothes under the child after performing the post-mortem.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. Since I was qualified in 1854, I suppose I have performed over 100 post-mortem examinations—only one within the last 5 or 6 years—I don't think I examined the ventricles in this
case—I examined the veins—I did not find them gorged with blood; one vein between the cerebrum and the cerebellum, right opposite the larger wound, had been ruptured by the wound, and there was a great deal of blood extravasated—none of the veins were gorged with blood that I saw—I examined them minutely—I looked over the whole of the veins and they were just in a normal state, except in the place I speak of—there was sufficient opium in the stomach to have caused death if time had been given; I don't say that it did cause death—sometimes death from laudanum is very quick, according to the dose, but very quick in a child—contraction of the pupils is indicative of the influence of laudanum, it may also be of concussion of the brain, of fracture at the base of the skull—a serous effusion in the ventricles is a cardinal point to ascertain in poisoning by laudanum—I did not examine the ventricles, because there was sufficient cause of death from the fracture of the skull from the lacerated wound, without the laudanum—I will take on myself to state that it was the superior wound that destroyed the child's life—I cannot say that if the wounds had not been there the child might have died from poisoning by laudanum—if there had been no wounds, I should have gone more particularly into the minutiae and traced it from the mouth right down—I believe that the child had taken sufficient laudanum to produce death, but I believe it died from the effects of the large wound—I could not undertake to say that death was not caused by the laudanum—the second wound might have been caused by falling on the brick; I believe the larger wound was inflicted by somebody taking something in their hand—I notice the edges of the wound, they were not close, the wound was inverted and drawn in; there was a small coagula of blood right in between the lower and upper portions of the lip of the wound, and just round it there was a laceration somewhat similar in shape to the matrix in my nail—it is difficult to say from the appearance of a wound whether it has been inflicted before or after death; it may be improbable, but not impossible; I only give my opinion, and I believe I am right—laudanum in cordials is a very wrong thing to give to any child; it is a very common thing.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. There. was enough laudanum in the body to account for death, if it had not been caused by violence—I went through the regular routine to test for laudanum—I removed the stomach and examined it in my surgery—I think the laudanum was given in the milk—it is possible that it might be given in a simple form, the milk might be given on one occasion and the laudanum on another—I did not examine to see whether the milk was the mother's, or the milk of an animal—I have heard that the woman suckled the child and that her breast became injured—I could not undertake to say that the milk I found mixed with the laudanum was not the mother's milk—I believe the laudanum was laudanum pure and simple, not in the shape of a cordial, but such as you would buy at a chemist's, tincture of opium—I could not tell how long it had been administered—I believe it had been given some short time prior to death, within 8 hours of my seeing the body, and within about 42 hours of my examination—I believe it was given before the infliction of the wound, I could not say how short a time before; it might be within half or quarter of an hour, it is possible.
By MR. WRIGHT. I believe the child got the dose at one time, to produce that effect, but it is not impossible that it might have had some given to it before, from the time it was born.
Re-examined. I have made a post-mortem examination before and found laudanum in the stomach, in the case of a man, a miner—I have had several cases of it—I believe from the appearances that the child's death took place some time between 10 and 11 that night, before the morning—it is difficult to tell the exact time of death within several hours, it might have taken place at any time between 9 or 10 it night, and the small hours of the morning—the larger wound was consistent with having been produced by a blow from a piece of brick like this.
By the COURT. The exposure of an infant two or three weeks old, lying all night in the open air with no clothing on the upper part of its body, would be likely to produce death; it would Almost to a certainty cause death, apart from laudanum or anything else—the exposure would destroy it.
ANN STARLING . I am a widow, and live at 6, Stebbington Street, St. Pancras—I know the two prisoners by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Hull; I never saw them until they came and took my apartment at the beginning of March last; they took the first floor back-room furnished at a rent of 1s. 6d. a week; they came together—I could not fix the exact day of the month—the male prisoner said that he wanted the apartment for his wife and himself—he said nothing more, only agreed for the price; he did not say where he came from or who he was; I did not require any reference—they had no luggage with them, only a small black bag; they went to King's Cross and fetched their luggage, which was put into their room—I don't think they both remained that night; Mrs. Hull remained but I think he did not—she continued living there until Sunday, 11th may—she was confined on the 22nd April of a female child—I did not know when she took the lodgings she was in the family way; I knew it very shortly afterwards—Mrs. Smithson, the midwife, attended her, I think, for about nine days backwards and forwards—it appeared a healthy child; a very nice little baby; she did not give it the breast many times; I don't think above once or twice—she said that her breasts were very painful, and after that she fed it with corn-flour and milk from a bottle; it appeared to thrive; it was a very fine baby—I saw it every day, and two or. three times a day—my daughter Beatrice nursed it, and was very fond of it—Mrs. Hull appeared to be very fond of it, and attended to it—she did not tell me where she came from; she mentioned some place where she lived in Bedfordshire, but I almost forget it—on Saturday night, 10th May, Mr. Hull came; he had been once before after taking the lodgings, before the baby was born; I think she told me he was coming—I don't think he stayed that night—on Saturday, 10th May, he came between 9 and 10 o'clock in the evening, and stayed all night; I knew he was coming several days before; Mrs. Hull told me so—he occupied the same room with her, and remained with her—on the Sunday she told me they were going away next day—the rent was paid on the Sunday evening, a cab was sent for, and they left between 7 and 8 o'clock—I know it was some time after tea, after the church bells had gone for church—he fetched the cab himself, the boxes had been brought down in the passage some time before; they were put on the cab—my daughter gave her the baby after she was in the cat)—I had seen it, and nursed it during the day; it appeared perfectly well; it had on a large ladies' white woollen shawl, a little white frock, and a flannel, and a chemise; this is the flannel the baby used to wear round it, under its arms, so that it would go down and cover
the legs; it also had on this swathe—Mrs. Hull made the flannel herself in my room—I know this to be the swathe, because it is rather a strange looking one; this apron I put on the band to it myself; it's my own work—that was on the child, and this is one of the shirts, but I could not say whether the baby had that on; it used to wear one like it—I speak to all these things as being part of the baby's things—they did not tell me where they were going to when they left—Mrs. Hull said he was coming to fetch her home; it was somewhere in Bedfordshire, I think I heard her talk about Biggleswade, but I don't know—while the child was nursed and attended to it had no cordial, nothing but the bottle with corn-flour and milk—no Godfrey's cordial, or anything of that kind—no one went out for anything only us, and none was ever fetched by us—it was not a. fretful child; it was a very good baby—I never saw Mrs. Hull give it anything in the shape of cordial or laudanum; it was never fetched into my house—while she was with us she used to receive letters, two or three were registered letters—I did not notice the post-mark on them—after she left I received this letter from her about the time, it bears date, 19th May—I have seen her write, but did not notice her writing—before she left she told me she would write when she got home, and tell me how she got home.
SARAH HULL . The female prisoner is my cousin—I have corresponded with her, and had letters from her—to the best of my belief this letter is not her handwriting; I believe it is my own—I know her handwriting—yes, this is hers. (Letter read: "Dear Mrs. Starling,—I hope you won't think I have forgotten you as I have not written to you, but I have been busy. I am very happy to say we arrived home without catching any more cold, and this leaves us all quite well, and hope it will find you better. My breast is nearly well; remember us very kindly to Alfred. I hope he is still getting a little better; give my love to Betty, I hope she is well. I suppose she missed the baby, for I know she was very fond of nursing it I have thought about you all a great many times since I have been away; the country seems dull after London, but still it looks very nice, everything is looking so green; I think I shall rather like it this summer. Now, I must give over as I am rather in a hurry, so with kindest love to you, believe me to remain yours sincerely, M. Hull I will write again some time. Mr. Hull wishes to be kindly remembered to you all")
MRS. STARLING (Recalled). Betty alluded to in that letter is my daughter, and Alfred is my son.
JULIA SMITHSON . I am a widow, and live at 35, St. Pancras Road—I am a midwife; I attended on the female prisoner on the 22nd April on her confinement—I had seen her on the 11th to engage with her—no doctor attended her; I did all that was necessary—she had a female child; it was a very good confinement—I attended upon her up to the 8th or 9th day—it was a very healthy child; she nursed it herself, and gave it the breast continually while I was there—I did not stop with her all day; I visited her every morning—she appeared very kind and affectionate to the child—she told me that it was her second child; she said nothing about the first—I only asked her if it was her first or second, and she said her second—she paid me—I did not see the child after I left on the 8th or 9th day—the child never had any cordial given to it during the time I was with her, nor any milk out of the bottle; it was fed by the mother's breast—I always knew her as Mrs. Hull; I never saw the male prisoner till I saw him in
Court—she did not tell me where she came from; I never asked—I have looked through this clothing and recognise all of them; she only had one set of things the whole time I was there—I recognise the flannel and the swathe, this apron or buck bed, this binder) and these two diapers and the inside swathe.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. At the time I left she had not ceased to suckle the child to my knowledge—she suckled it all the time I attended upon her—after it was changed from the mother's milk to the bottle I should think it would be a fretful and troublesome time for the child.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. It did not appear to me to be fretful or troublesome from first to last; it was a very fine healthy child; the mother appeared to be very kind and affectionate to it in my presence—she only had one set of clothes for it; she did not make a double set in my presence—on the Friday, as the baby was born on the Tuesday, I asked her for a clean change of linen for the baby, and she said she and Mrs. Starling were making the dress, and as soon as it was finished she would put it on the baby—I don't think that anything like cordial was ever administered to the child—I never heard of such a suggestion—the child did not need it; it was a very fine child.
BEATRICE STARLING . I am the daughter of Mrs. Starling—I knew the prisoners by the name of Hull as man and wife—the female said that her maiden name was Rainbow—I remember the baby being born—I used to go into her room very often—I waited upon her and nursed the baby—I was very fond of it; it was a very nice baby—I remember the Sunday evening they left about 7 o'clock; I saw the cab there—she had three boxes and a little hand bag; the boxes were put on the cab—I took the baby to the cab and gave it to Mrs. Hull in the cab—it was then quite well—I never saw any cordial given to it; it had an ordinary baby's feeding bottle—I did not hear any direction given to the cabman as to where they were going—they did not tell me where they were going—on that Sunday morning Mr. Hull asked me what newspaper I had got—I told him the Weekly Dispatch; he said that was not the one he wanted—I told him he could get one next door—there is a newspaper shop next door—I did not see him go there—this was in the morning, the same day they left—I know this flannel and other things, and have no doubt they are the things which the baby had on—I know these two large nightgowns, and the little one Mrs. Hull said she had given 1s. 0 1/2 d. for—it had on a nightgown, which mother made for it that night, and this flannel and this apron.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. There were other female lodgers in the house—there was no servant—I don't think the other lodgers were in the habit of going into the room, only a woman in the front room went in, but I don't think more than once—no friends came to see Mrs. Hull—I saw the male prisoner on the Sunday morning, and he went out with my brothers—I saw him in the presence of the child on the Saturday night—he did not seem pleased with it; he never took any notice of it whatever—I first saw him between 8.30 and 9 in the morning; he had slept there the previous night—he was indoors all the afternoon till he went away and in a public-house close by—the child was not asleep in the afternoon—Mrs. Hull washed it about 3.30, and after that it went to sleep till about half an hour before they went away—it was during that time that I saw him with the child—he came very late on Sunday night—I was not in the room then—I
was in the room a good while, and I went and got a plaster for her breast—the baby was asleep then—I only saw him with the child while it was awake daring the little time before it went away—I remember the time when the mother ceased giving it the milk and gave it the bottle—it was a little more fretful for the first day or two after that—it had nothing given to it to keep it quiet, only corn flour—it slept very much more after that.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. She seemed to be most affectionate to the child; she was continually nursing and caressing it—on the Saturday night it was asleep in bed, and the mother was sitting by the fire—I only saw her making the flannel for it, and a little work on the top of the nightgown that my mother made—the father came in on the Sunday morning when I was in the room, about 9 o'clock—I then had the child in my arms by the fire—the mother was in bed—I asked her what the father said about the child, and she said that he said it was a pretty little dear—I cannot say how long I was in the room with her on the Sunday morning; not so much as an hour—I saw her after dinner about 2 or 3 o'clock—the father had then gone out with my brothers, and she was alone with the child—I saw her about 5.30, and had tea with her that day—the father was there then; baby was asleep on the bed—from the beginning to the end she was as kind and good to the child as a mother could possibly be.
Re-examined. Sunday was not the first time she had been out after her confinement; I think she went out on the Friday, but I am not surer—I know she had been out one day before; she did not take the baby with her.
JOHN WOOD . I am a cabdriver—on Sunday evening, 11th May, about 7 or thereabouts, the male prisoner fetched me to 16, Stebbington Street—he asked me if I would fetch his wife to the Great Northern Rail way—I asked if he had any luggage—he said, "Yes, a box"—he then got inside, and I drove him to 16, Stebbington Street—no agreement was made about the fare—I waited there a few minutes—he got out and went into the house, and brought out two boxes—there was no bag that I saw; if there was one it went inside—the female prisoner came down and got into the cab, and Miss Starling brought the baby and gave it to her in the cab—the man then got in, and I was told to drive to the Great Northern Station, King's Cross, the departure side—he paid me the fare, 1s. 4d.—they both got out at the station—I handed the boxes to a porter, and I drove away, and saw no more of them till they were in custody—the female prisoner carried the baby from the cab to the station—I did not hear them say anything to the porter.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. It was a very wet Sunday—the instructions to drive to the Great Northern Rail way were given to me openly at the door in Stebbington Street, in the presence of the girl and the others, so that they could hear it—I left King's Cross immediately I had set them down, and left them talking to the porter with the boxes outside—I can't say whether there were labels on the boxes; I did not notice them—the child appeared asleep in the cab and very pale; I did not hear it cry.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. The man hired me, directed me, and paid me.
WILLIAM PEARCE . On Sunday, 11th May, I was living at 343, Gray's Inn Road—I had sold the place, and was moving to No. 2, Liverpool Street, where I am now residing—I had both places then, and my wife was at 2, Liverpool Street—I keep an hotel—I know the two prisoners—I had seen them several weeks before that Sunday night—I cannot say the date—they
lodged at my house, 343, Gray's Inn Road, for one night only—I saw them when they arrived; they were together—I did not know them by any name—they occupied one room, the second-floor front bedroom—I can't say whether I saw them leave next day—on Sunday, 11th May, I saw them again at 343, Gray's Inn Road, about 11 p.m.—I saw them arrive together—he came in alone; they were following each other—he spoke; she was close behind him—he asked if he could be accommodated with a room to-night; they came as being there before—I said, "No, I can't do it here; if you will go round to my other house, No. 2, Liverpool Street, round the corner, my wife there will perhaps accommodate you"—he said, "Very well," and they went round—I was at the door and saw them walking round the corner to No. 2—neither of them had a child—the male prisoner was carrying a bag about 18 inches or 2 feet long, and about 2 feet high, and he had a white woollen shawl across his arm—he had the bag in his left arm, and the shawl over it—I believe it was a very wet night—it was about 11; I know it was very near my time for shutting up—they did not give any name.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. My houses are not coffee-houses—I have no licence as an hotel; merely for travellers—if a traveller comes in and stops for the night I supply breakfast—I have four rooms at Gray's Inn Road, and five or six in Liverpool Street—they are mostly occupied every night—if I see anybody once I know them again pretty well—I know this was the 11th of May because it was so shortly afterwards that the inspector made inquiries of me, perhaps a fortnight or three weeks; I think not four weeks—I remember it more particularly from the inquiries he made of me, and the shawl and the wet night, and it was only two or three weeks previous.
By the COURT. I am quite sure it was Sunday, the 11th, and I was wanting to shut up; I was only keeping on the place till my successor could come in.
ANNIE ALICE PEARCE . I am the wife of the last witness—I remember the two prisoners coming to No. 2, Liverpool Street, on Sunday night, 11th May—it was a very wet night—they were together—the male prisoner asked me if I could accommodate him with a bed—I said yes—the woman was at his side at the time—I showed them into the back parlour, a bed-room—they had no child with them—the male prisoner carried a black bag, and the female had a white wrap—they occupied the same bedroom—I asked him if he wished to be called at any particular time, and he said about 8 o'clock—I knocked at their door about 8 o'clock next morning—they did not breakfast before they left—the male prisoner paid me for the room, 1s., two two-shilling pieces—I saw them leave about 8.30; the male prisoner carried the bag then—I did not notice any other luggage—they had no child with them in the morning—I did not see them again till they were in custody—I had seen them before, they had slept at my other house, 343, Gray's Inn Road, several weeks before, I cannot fix the date—I did not know them by any name—I did not say anything to them about their having been there before—on the following Saturday, the 17th, my servant, Lilly Batten, was cleaning up the room, and she called my attention to a baby's night dress—this is it (produced)—she told me where she found it—it was dirty—I had it washed—I kept it till I went to Clerkenwell Police Court, when I gave it up to the police.
which is used as a bedroom, I don't remember the day of the month, I found this baby's night-dress under the firegrate, wrapped in brown paper, not tied with string—I had been into the room during the week, but had not noticed it then—I took it out and showed it to Mrs. Pearce, and she took charge of it; it was dirty, stained as if a baby had worn it.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. It was not there so that anybody going into the room could see it, not unless they pulled back the shavings—it wan. behind some shavings in the fireplace; the shavings had been pulled forward and this put behind—many different people had been in the room.
SARAH HULL (Re-examined). I am the wife of Alfred Albert Hull, and five at 18, Cadogan Street, Chelsea—the female prisoner is my cousin—I had seen very little of her for some years previous to February this year—some time in February I received this letter from her; there is no date to it—it was written from Bygrave Rectory, Baldock, where she was in a situation—I answered that letter by the one produced, a few days afterwards; the postmark is 15th February—I must have received hers a few days before. (This was dated from Bygrave Rectory, Baldock, Beds, and stated thai she was thinking of leaving her place soon and coming to London, when she would call and see her. The other letter stated that she was leaving her situation next day, and before taking another would come and see her in a few weeks, and would write and let her known when.) I afterwards received another letter from her, about the Thursday previous to her coming on Monday the 12th—I have lost that letter, I gave it to the baby and the baby destroyed it—it had the London postmark, E.C., but bore no address where she was then staying—she said in the letter that she would be with me on the Tuesday, that would be the 13th, but instead of coming on the Tuesday she came on the Monday—when she came she said, "I am afraid I am putting you out by coming a day before I promised"—I said it did not matter, I was very pleased to see her—she had no luggage with her, only a waterproof, an umbrella, a little black bag, and a white woollen shawl—she came about 10 o'clock in the morning alone, in a cab—I was not at all aware that she had been recently confined—I knew of her having had a child some years ago—I was told so—I cant remember how long, she was not married—the child is living—she spoke of it when she was with me—she told me that she came from King's Cross that morning, nothing more—she did not tell me where she had been staying in London—she said in her letter that she was staying with some friends, but she did not mention them. when she was with me—she did not not say who or where her friends were—I went out with her for a walk on Monday evening; while we were out she said, "I can't hold up my dress as my petticoats are dirty, as I was walking about a great deal last night"—she stayed with me on the Monday and slept at my house; she complained of having a bad side, she said she had caught cold—she said next day that she ought to go home on the Wednesday, as her mother would think it strange her being away such a time—she did not go on the Wednesday, I pressed her to stay,
she remained until Friday and left about 11 o'clock—she said was going home to Hitchin from King's Cross—while she was with me I talked to her about her affairs—she told me that she was engaged, and that the young man wished her to get married (I believe she said he lived at Baldock), but she did not care to do so at present—she did not say anything more about it—after she got home I received a letter from her from Staunton, dated the 20th, or a few days afterwards, it was merely to say that she had got home safely—while she was with me she went out with me every day for a walk—I know nothing whatever about the male prisoner, I never saw him till he was in custody—I did not know that she had ever passed as Mrs. Hull, or that she had ever lodged at Mrs. Starling's, or slept at the hotel in Liverpool Street.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I understood that the child she had previously had was at home with her mother—I remember the prisoner being in service at Fairfield, Hornsey—I don't how long she was there.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. The child I have spoken of is about 10 years of age—I do not know that the male prisoner is the father of it—I never heard of him before, by name or otherwise—the female prisoner is a very warm-hearted, affectionate girl—I have known her from childhood—I never noticed any unkindness or ill-will about her—she told me when staying with me that she was 29 years of age—she appeared to be very happy and in very good spirits.
WILLIAM BIDWELL . I am a porter in the service of the Great Northern Railway at Hitchin Station—I have known the female prisoner about six months—I saw her on Friday, 16th May, on the platform at Hitchin Station; I saw her arrive by the 2.30 mid-day train from London—she had two boxes and one band-box, and she was carrying a little black bag in her hand—I spoke to her—I was talking to her about 10 minutes—she said she was going home—the station she would have to go to would be Henlow—the train for Henlow started from Hitchin at 3.20; she would have to wait about an hour, I saw her leave by the 3.20—I could not say whether she left the station while she was there—she was about 20 minutes under my observation, the rest of the time I cannot answer for—I was about the platform very nearly all the time—I can't say whether she went away for the other 40 minutes or not.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. I have a brother named Arthur—she was not engaged to be married to him that I know of; she was keeping company with him—he is about 22 years old—I do not know the male prisoner—I did not know that she had a child—I knew nothing of her antecedents prior to the last six months.
JAMES TURNER . I live at Hitchin, and am a signalman in the service of the Great Northern Railway Company—on Saturday morning, 17th May, about 7 or a few minutes after, I was on the footpath leading from the Hitchin Station to Bedstow Hill, and found a parcel in the hedge about 200 yards from the railway station; it was pushed as far as it could be got through the hedge, and it came in contact with a heap of dirt lying on the other side—I did not pull it out, I went and fetched Simmonds, who was working close by, and he pulled it out and opened it, it was a newspaper parcel—I did not see what newspaper it was—under the first cover there was a night-gown similar to this; I saw that it was baby clothing—Simmonds took charge of it, paper and all—I saw the newspaper at the Clerkenwell Police-court—it was the Weekly Times of 11th May.
JOHN SIMMONDS . I am a bricklayer, living at Telegraph Terrace, Hitchin—at 7 o'clock in the morning of 17th May I was at work near Bedstow Hill—Turner called my attention to a parcel in the hedge; I cut the string, and opened it, and the first thing I found was a baby's bedgown—there was another parcel inside that tied up with a string—I cut the string of that—I did not thoroughly examine it at the time—I took it to the station the same evening; it was then thoroughly examined in presence of the police inspector—when I cut the other string I found more clothes; it contained three bedgowns, two little shirts made, one little shirt cut out and not made, and other articles of children's clothing which are now produced—I know a place called Staunton—Henlow is the nearest station to Staunton—if a person was going to Staunton by the Great Northern Railway their proper course would be to get out at Hitchin, and not leave the platform—the parcel might have laid there several days without being seen.
By the COURT. The same line goes through Shefford—it is necessary to change at Hitchin, and not leave the platform—the Midland does not run a train at all through from London; they ail change there.
GEORGE DIXON . I am a constable in the Bedfordshire Constabulary station at Mattershall—these articles of child's clothing were handed to me by Inspector Young at Hitchin on 26th May, and I handed them over to Inspector Dod.
WILLIAM STAPLETON . I am a chemist, and carry on business at Brydge's Street, Shefford, Beds—I am postmaster there—I have known Dilley 14 or 15 years—he is a married man; he lives at Shefford with his wife and children—he has three children—besides being the postman he carries on a small business as a picture frame maker—I have been in the habit of allowing him from time to time to come to London on his business—on Saturday, 10th May, about 7.15, he applied to me for leave for Monday till Tuesday morning—he would have no duty to perform on Sunday—I gave him a holiday en the Monday—he did not say what he wanted to go to town for—I arranged for somebody else to do his duty on the Monday; he came back to his duty on the Tuesday at 7 o'clock in the morning in the ordinary way—the rural messenger carries his own registered letters—this receipt for a registered letter is in Dilley's handwriting; it is dated 2nd May, 1879, and is for a registered letter to Mrs. Hull, 16, Stebbington Street, London—it was sent on that day—I know of one other registered letter sent to the same name and address; that was about 25th April—Dilley must have given the receipt for that, because it was out of his own registered book; he carries his own registered letter-book.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. There was nothing unusual in his asking me for a holiday during the 15 years I have been his master—he has always carried on his duties well and satisfactorily to me and to the department—as far as I know he has been a kind, considerate, and affectionate man in all his relations in life—I know that of my own knowledge.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. I have heard it spoken of. that he was the father of an illegitimate child 10 years of age belonging to the female prisoner; I don't know it—he has, as far as I know, borne the character of a considerate and affectionate man in all his relations in life—he has lived with his wife, as far as I know, and carries on the character of being a kind husband, and the father of a family—I have heard it talked of that he was the father of an illegitimate child 10 years old—I do not know the woman
—I have never spoken to her to my knowledge; I do not know where she has been in service for the last year—I can't say how many times Dilley has been to London in the course of a year, perhaps five or six; not so often as once a month—I have been in business as a chemist about 18 years, 23 years altogether—I have one assistant—the prisoner had no duty to perform for me besides letter carrying—he has carried parcels for me; he has brought orders for medicines, and he has taken them away, but I have never employed him on those occasions—he has not assisted in the shop, only with his letters—he has never cleaned the shop for me, or ever assisted to do it—he has carried medicines, not as part of his duty as a letter carrier, but to oblige other people as well as me—there is no regular carrier at these villages—our letter-box is close to the window of the shop—I stand behind the counter when I collect the letters for the messenger.
By the COURT. There is no other public conveyance from London to Shefford except the rail—there are two lines; you can go from King's Cross to Shefford Road, or you can go to Hitchin, and come on by the Hitchin and Bedford branch that would be more direct to Halsey Road, which is three miles from Shefford; you would have to walk that—any one who wanted to take the easiest mode of travelling would go to Hitchin, and change into the Midland; that is the most direct way, but you can go by the Midland from St. Pancras—I should go from King's Cross to Hitchin, and then go on to Shefford.
JOHN SIMMONDS . (Re-examined by the COURT.) I could not form any opinion from the state of the parcel whether it had been there for three or four days, or whether it had been freshly put there; the paper was wet and torn when I took hold of it; it was not very much sodden, it was a little damp, the paper broke about as it is now—the Bedstow Hill is on the left of the station, the footpath leads from the mouth of the station-gate—anybody who alighted at Hitchin station, having 10 or 20 minutes to spare, could easily get to that spot, it was not above 200 yards from the station; it could be very well done in 10 minutes—the parcel had been shoved through the hedge in a weak place against a heap of rubbish thrown up on the other side, the garden side.
CHARLES DOD . (Police Inspector Y.) On Saturday, 24th May, I received from the witness Ann Starling a description of a man and woman, and on Sunday, the 25th, in company with Sergeant Otway and Alfred Starling, I went to Shefford, Beds, for the purpose of making inquiries—I went to a cottage in Campton Road, and there saw the male prisoner about 2 o'clock in the day—I said to him "Are you Dilley, the letter-carrier?"—at that time young Starling and Otway were stationed outside about 50 yards away—the prisoner said "Yes"—I said "I have come to make some inquiry respecting two registered letters"—at that time I had an opportunity of looking at him and seeing if he answered the description given to me by Miss Starling; he did so, and in consequence of that I said "Stop," and I called Otway and Alfred Starling to the door—when Alfred Starling got to the door so as to be able to see Dilley, he said "How do you do, Mr. Hull?" they shook hands and the prisoner answered that he was quite well—we then all went into the house—I said "Dilley, we are two police officers from London, and it will be necessary for me to make certain inquiries of you"—I said "Have you a wife?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Where is she?"—he said "In the back room"—I went with him into the back room to see if she corresponded
with the description given by Mrs. Starling; she did—I then returned with him into the parlour and said, "Did you accompany a young woman to London about March last, and take rooms at 16, Stebbington Street?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Did she pass as Mrs. Hull by your knowledge?"—he said "Yes"—I said "When were you in London last?"—he said "A fortnight ago last Saturday"—I said "Where did you stay?"—he said "Stebbington Street"—I said "When did you leave Stebbington Street, and with whom?"—he said "I left Stebbington Street on Sunday evening, with Mrs. Hull and a baby; we went to the Great Northern Railway, King's Cross; I left her and the baby on the platform, and did not see them again in London"—I said "When did you leave London?"—he said "On the Monday afternoon"—I said "Do you know a Mary Rainbow?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Do you know where she now is?"—he said "No"—I then said to him "Dilley, I am about to arrest you for a most serious offence, and I caution you that anything you may say in answer to the charge will be used in evidence; I arrest you for being concerned with a woman not in custody in wilfully causing the death of a female child at Green Lanes, Hornsey, between 7 p.m. on the night of the 11th and 8 o'clock on the morning of 12th May"—he said "I know nothing at all about it"—I then took him to the constable's house at Mappershall, and he was detained in the custody of Sergeant Otway—on the way he said "I can show you the place where Mary Rainbow may be found"—I declined to take him there—I then, with Constable Dixon, the officer stationed at Mappershall, and Alfred Starling, went in search of Mary Rainbow—we went to the house of her father, William Rainbow, who is a labourer living at Lower Staunton—I found her there—I asked her if her name was Mary Rainbow—she said "Yes"—I asked when she came back from London—she said on Friday week—I then told her that I was about to arrest her for a most serious offence, and said that anything she might say in answer to the charge would be used in evidence—I then told her in the same words I had told Dilley what the offence was, and that she would be charged with Dilley—she made no reply—I took charge of her boxes—I found nothing at all relating to the charge—I took her to Mappershall—I did not find the letters that have been produced, until after I had brought the boxes to London—I searched Dilley's house, and found nothing relative to the charge—I conveyed them to Hitchin Station—in the waiting-room there Dilley took out his purse—I took it from him, and from it took this bill of Charles Baker and Co., of 271 and 272, High Holborn, for 7s. 11d. dated 12th May, 1879—I read it in the station and said, "How do you account for having that in your possession?"—he said, "It is a receipt for some clothes that I bought in London"—I also found on him the receipt for the registered letter that has been produced—I then conveyed the two prisoners from Hitchin to Finsbury Park by train, and from there to the Holloway Police station, where they were formally charged—they said nothing in reply to the charge—they were locked up—I received this brick from the constable, Boittailt, who had it at the police-court—it has been in my possession ever since—it is precisely in the same condition; it has not been burnt—it has not been out of the parcel where all the things were—I have produced the clothes that were found in the brown paper parcel which was found against the wall, the child's night-dress found at the lodging where the prisoners slept in Liverpool Street, and the bundle of clothes in the newspaper found in the hedge at Hitchin—they are in the same state as I received them.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. Before I went down there had been a reward offered by the Treasury—I have no power to receive a penny of it; the police are always excepted—I had no warrant with me for Dilley's arrest—I did not go down with the intention of arresting him—I do not think under the circumstances that it was irregular of me to put the questions to him that I did; I should do it in other cases under the circumstances—I did not intend to arrest him until very nearly the last question was asked—he answered my questions readily, and without the slightest hesitation—I put all the questions to him before administering any caution—I have not mentioned before to-day his offering to point out where Mary Rainbow lived.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN . I am in the service of Mr. Charles Baker, a clothier, of 271 and 272, High Holborn—I am manager of the juvenile department—I know Dilley as a customer—this bill of 12th May is my handwriting, as far as my recollection goes—he made the purchase of a suit of boy's clothes at 7s. 11d.—it "was between 9 and 12 o'clock—it was my second check that morning.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I have been there two years—during the last 12 months he has been a customer there from time to time.
ANN STARLING (Re-examined). I am able to identify these things that were found in the hedge—there are three bedgowns; they are the same as the other little body which I began to make for another little frock like this—I did not make the bedgowns, but they all belonged to the baby—I also know these three little shirts—this one was bought, and had never been worn, and one is not made—I recognise them all as belonging to the baby—these socks my little girl bought for the baby—I know all the other things.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I attended to Mrs. Hull the first four or five days after her confinement, and after that my daughter principally, but I was up in the room two or three times every day—before leaving, the male prisoner said he was quite pleased to think I had been so kind to Mrs. Hull and the child.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. The female prisoner appeared to be a very nice, affectionate person—she took to the child immediately she was able after its birth—she could not nurse it very long; she took it to the breast in about three days, until she complained of great pain to the breast—I ascertained that she was in the family way about a week after she came—she then became very confidential to me, and spoke about the approaching birth—she seemed to look forward to it, and to be kind in every way—the first part of the time, being a stranger, she was mostly in her own room—I did not see her making things; we did not sit and work together at the baby's clothes—I made some of the things upstairs while she was ill in bed,—the first week's rent was paid in advance by the male prisoner.
WILLIAM BIDWELL (Re-examined by the COURT). During the time the woman was on the platform at Hitchin I did not see whether she had any bundle or not—while I was talking with her she had the black bag in her hand—I did not see her put it down—it was about as long as that (describing)—her boxes stood on the platform—there is no Midland train which goes through from London; you must change at Hitchin—there is no train which goes on immediately after the arrival of the London train at that time in the day—the train arrives at 9.52, and you go on by the Great Northern at 10.5—there is one at 5.45 to Hitchin, which leaves at 6.5—that is the last train—there is no train at all on Sunday to Shefford or Henlow—there is a
train that gets to Hitchin at 7.30, but none after 7 in the morning from King's Cross.
JAMES TURNER (Re-examined by the COURT). The footpath where I found the parcel is very much used by people going to and from the station continually, all day—the parcel was so placed that any one might pass a hundred or a thousand times and not see it; it might have been there for days without being discovered—I was looking through the hedge after a bird—then is a garden on the other side of the hedge, a flower-garden, but at that part I believe it is an orchard or lawn laid out with trees; the other part is cultivated; I don't think it is much used—I don't believe the parcel could be seen from the garden—there was a heap of dirt behind the hedge—it is not a properly kept lawn, I believe—there is a train from London to Shefford at 9 o'clock in the morning.
WILLIAM STAPLETON (Re-examined by MR. WRIGHT). Dilley commenced his duties at 7 o'clock in the morning—the newspaper train leaves King's Cross for Hitchin at 5 o'clock in the morning; it takes passengers—there is a train in connection with it on to Shefford, which* arrives there about seven or eight minutes to 7—if he came down by that he would be in ample time to commence his duties at the post-office—that train runs every day except Sunday.
Lancelot Walton, Esq., of Fairfield, Hornsey, and Rev, John Henry Carnegie, Rector of Bygrave, in both of whose service Rainbow had lived, also Sarah Vintner, of Staunton, Beds, deposed to her good character.
GUILTY . The Jury recommended Rainbow to mercy on the ground that she was under the influence of the male prisoner.
MR. RIBTON. for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday August 8th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
700. JOSEPH BUCKWORTH (37) and SARAH NASH () were indicted for that they, being officers of the Post-office, did feloniously issue 14 money orders the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General with a fraudulent intent.
MESSRS. METCALFE, Q.C., and BAGGALLAY Prosecuted; MR. EDWARD CLARKE appeared for Buckworth, and MR. McCALL for Nash.
EDWARD SMITH . I am superintendent of the South London District Post-office, Blackman Street, Borough—Buckworth became the receiver at Lower Road, Rotherhithe, on 30th April, 1873, and was before that in the Dockhead office—Nash was Buckworth's assistant at Lower Road Post-office—they both made the usual statutory declarations (produced) when they were employed—it was part of Buckworth's duty to issue and pay money orders at Lower Road, and he was supplied from the General Pos-Office with blank forms of money orders and advices—they are numbered consecutively, and bear the printed name of Buckworth's office—persons paying for money orders fill up a printed requisition (Form produced), stating amount, where payable, name of payee, and name and address of emitter: on receipt of which it was the duty of either of the prisoners to fill up and
sign the money order, fill up the advice, and enter it in the daily money order account, and give the money order (Form produced) to the applicant, and the advice would be forwarded to the paying office by the next dispatch—the names of payee and remitter are given in the advice, and on the order being presented at the paying office the postmaster would refer to the advice, and pay the money, on the payee signing the receipt and giving the name of the remitter—the name of remitter is always required—Buckworth should give the payee's, and his own name in orders drawn on his own account, he has no duty beyond a member of the public—postmasters occasionally issue post-office orders on their own account—money orders ought to bear the date-stamp of the issuing-office—it is the duty of the person issuing the orders to so stamp them, and he must receive the money from the remitter—it was the duty of Buckworth or Nash to forward direct to the General Post-office at the close of each day's business a daily summary and moneyorder account giving a detailed account of the money-order business—when his credit reserve exceeded 35l. it was his duty to remit the surplus.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE I have been superintendent of the South Eastern District three years, and was before then in the employ of the Post-office—I have only known Buckworth three years, and do not know how long he was employed at Dockhead Post-office—at Lower Road office he kept a grocery and provision shop—except with regard to the present charge we have had no cause of complaint against him for irregularities of any kind—he had to sell postage and receipt stamps; accept deposits on Savings Bank account; pay Savings Bank warrants, and give out collecttions of letters posted at his office; to issue gun and dog licences and register letters—there were five collections of letters daily at his office, and there was a box fixed in the wall for the sixth collection, but he had nothing to do with that—he had each day to make out a return of money orders which he debited himself with, and to send forward the advice letters of money orders payable, and a return of Savings Bank deposits; also a return of the amount of unsold stamps—there is a column for that in his daily cash summary—his remuneration was by salary 10l. a year, and a commisson of 4l. for each 1,000 money orders, or about 1d. each, and so much for each savings bank transaction—his total remuneration was 62l. for one year—on a 10l. order the office would receive 10l. and 1s., out of which Buckworth would get something less than 1d. commission—on a 5l. order the commission to the office is 7d.—it was not my duty to receive his daily money-order account, it would be sent to the Receiver and AccountantGeneral at the General Post-office, and the letter of advice of orders payable, goes to the paying office, but circulates through the South-Eastern District—, a separate advice note for each order issued is sent to the office at which orders are payable.
Cross-examined by MR. McCALL. Each employe makes one of these statutory delarations—Nash made this declaration, dated 21st October, 1873—she is employed and paid by Buckworth—this declaration is attested by the Magistrate at Southwark Police-court, before whom it was taken—Nash is Buckworth's sister-in-law.
Re-examined. He gets 4l. on 1,000 orders, irrespective of the amount.
FRANCIS THOMAS SWAIN . I am a clerk in the Receiver and Accountant General's branch of the General Post-office—I produce these daily cash accounts from that office, received from Buckworth's office on 6th and 14th
June and 10th July, signed "S. Nash, for Receiver"—the daily money order accounts for those dates came with the cash accounts, and were transferred to the Chief Money Order Office, where they are dealt with—these (produced) are the daily cash accounts in June and July from Buckworth's office—the July accounts after the 19th are not here, but the June accounts are complete—on 19th July this letter and a cheque for 110l. were received at the office from Buck worth—the majority of the accounts are signed "S. Nash, for Receiver," and others are signed by Buckworth—this (produced) is the cover in which the 110l. cheque was enclosed—it was remitted and entered in the column for cheques. (Cheque read, dated 18th July, 1879, on the London and Joint Stock Bank, Southwark Branch, signed "F. Buckworth," and endorsed "Effects not cleared.") That cheque was presented and dishonoured—another similar letter was received on 21st July, enclosing this cheque for 165l., which was also dishonoured (Dated July 20, endorsed "N. S.")
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. The daily cash accounts are sent to me and I produce them—they contain the items "Money orders issued and money orders paid"—the detailed account goes to the Money Order Office to be dealt with there,. and I have nothing to do with it—I got the 142l. 5s. 10d. of the 10th July, and only know the total amount—I keep the cash account as against Buckworth, and the 142l. would be debited to him in the books, and 15s. 9d. commission upon them would be debited as money he had to account for—the account would show day by day the amount due from him to the office—I have not the ledger here, which would show that—the cheques would not come to me, but would be received in the Accountant General's Office—the documents produced were received at the office, but not by me personally—the cash account shows the remittances—the account of the 6th June shows 100l. remittance that day to the General Post-office—I know the remittance was made, but it would not come into my hands—the balance in hand was 149l. 12s. 5 1/4 d., consisting of postage stamps unused, 24 receipt stamps unsold, 2l.; Inland Revenue licences unused 11l. 5s., leaving a cash balance of 112l. 7s. 5 1/4 d.—. the 100l. was remitted before he got the balance in hand, which, deducting stamps, licences, &c., was 112l., of which he would be entitled to retain 35l.—this cheque, 18th July, 110l., has been paid—I do not know the total amount sent him on 10th July—I should have to get it from the cash accounts—these accounts have been paid down to 18th July—another witness will produce the detail of 11th July money orders—I did not go to the bank with this cheque.
Re-examined. The order accounts beginning with June 8 are, orders issued 69l. 9s. 10d.; remittances, 120l., leaving cash balance in hand 62l. 17s. 0 1/4 d.; 4th June, 59l. 2s. 5d. money orders issued, 60l. remitted, leaving 47l. 2s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 5th June, 53l. 15s. 8d. orders issued, 100l. remitted, 63l. 12s. 5 1/4 d. cash in hand—the balance includes stamps; 6th June, 58l. 8s. 3d. orders issued, 50l. remitted, leaving 77l. 5s. 9 1/4 d. in hand; 7th June, 99l. 16s. 2d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 47l. 18s. 4 1/4 d. cash in hand; 9th June, 89l. 3s. 1d. orders issued, 90l. remitted, 567. 16s. 4 1/4 d. cash in hand; 10th, 84l. 15s. 2d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 70l. 12s. 7 1/4 d. cash in hand; 11th, 109l. 5s. 6d. orders issued, 110l. remitted, 75l. 7s. 3 1/4 d. cash in hand; 12th, 67l. 18s. 11d. orders issued, 75l. remitted, 92l. 12s. 7 3/4 d. cash in hand; 13th, 124l. 19s. 3d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 90l. 16s. 6 3/4 d.
in hand; 14th, 149l. 6s. 1d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 77l. 8s. 4 2/4 d. in hand; 16th, the 15th being Sunday, 81l. 19s. 8d. orders issued, 100l. remitted, 61l. 10s. 8 3/4 d. in hand; 17th, 47l. 2s. id. orders issued, 70l. remitted, 53l. 17s. 8 3/4 d. in hand; 18th, 99l. 1s. 5d. orders issued, 100l. remitted, 51l. 17s. 3 2/4 d. in hand; 19th, 59l. 10s. 11d. orders issued, 90l. remitted, 54l. 3s. 5 3/4 d. in hand; 20th, 94l. 14s. 9d. orders issued, 90l. remitted, 38l. 0s. 3 3/4 d. in hand; 21st, 148l. 2s. orders issued, 130l. remitted, 36l. 9s. 0 2/4 d. in hand; 23rd, 123l. 16s. 11d. orders issued, 95l. remitted, 45l. 15s. 1 3/4 d. in hand; 24th, 102l. 12s. 11d. orders issued, 150l. remitted, 42l. 2s. 9 3/4 d. in hand; 25th, 91l. 8s. 8d. orders issued, 90l. remitted, 38l. 16s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 26th, 126l. 18s. 5d. orders issued, 130l. remitted, 50l. 11s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 27th, 125l. 6s. 7d. orders issued, 130l. remitted, 52l. 7s. 3 1/4 d. in hand; 28th, 137l. 14s. 8d. orders issued, 140l. remitted, 45l. 7s. 11 1/4 d. in hand; 30th, 109l. 2s. 5d. orders issued, 145l. remitted, 36l. 13s. 8 1/4 d. in hand; July 1st, 148l. 6s. 1d. orders issued, 140l. remitted, 35l. 7s. 1 1/4 d. in hand; 2nd, 121l. 18s. 10d. orders issued, 130l., remitted, 36l. 19s. 2 1/2 d. in hand; 3rd, 141l. 0s. 8d. orders issued, 140l. remitted, 42l. 9s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 4th, 134l. 4s. 1d. orders issued, 130l. remitted, 38l. 3s. 11 1/4 d. in hand; 5th, 147l. 16s. 1d. Orders issued, 160l. remitted, 20l. 2s. 0 1/4 d. in hand; 7th, 105l. 6s. 9d. orders issued, 110l. remitted, 42l. 16s. 11 1/4 d. in hand; 8th, 133l. 8s. 11d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 60l. 7s.4 1/4 d. in hand; 9th, 132l. 13s. 1d. orders issued, 90l. remitted, 111l. 18s. 6 1/4 d. in hand; 10th, 142l. 5s. 10d. orders issued, 100l. remitted, 112l. 7s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 11th, 132l. 2s. 3d. orders issued, 100l. remitted, 90l. 5s. 5 1/4 d. in hand; 12th, 143l. 7s. 2d. orders issued, 169l. 4s. 2d., remitted, 53l. 5s. 11 1/4 d. in hand; 14th, 128l. 4s. 10d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 37l. 11s. 4 1/4 d. in hand; 15th, 122l. 10s. 7d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 45l. 11s. 11 1/4 d. in hand; 16th, 119l. 6s. 11d. orders issued, 130l. remitted, 36l. 9s. 0 1/4 d. in hand; 17th, 119l. 13s. 3d. orders issued, 120l. remitted, 37l. 12s. 4 1/4 d. in hand; 18th, 125l. 1s. 6d. orders issued, 110l. remitted, 45l. 17s. 1 1/4 d. in hand; 19th, 166l. 1s. 7d. orders issued, 184l. 10s. remitted, and 48l. 9s. 7 1/4 d. in hand—the remittances are general cash remittances upon the whole account, and are not taken under any heading—they were generally by cheque on the Joint Stock Bank.
By the COURT. Those who have banking accounts are encouraged to remit cheques or notes, because gold makes a bulky parcel.
HENRY COPE STRETTON . I am a clerk in the Order Department, and produce the sheets Sent from the prisoners showing the money orders—they are passed on by the last witness to me and remain with me—on 4th June I received advices from the prisoners as to orders issued 59l., the first order is for 1l. 10s., five orders for 10l. each, one of the latter being No. 930 from S. Nash to E. Nash, payable at Cornhill; No. 931 is for 10l., S. Johnson to E. Johnson, upon the Tooley Street office; the third order for 10l., E. Nash to S. Nash, payable at Dockhead, making 30l. that day out of the 59l.—the 5th No. 945, total amount 53l., S. Nash to E. Nash, crossed to be payable through a bank, in which case there must be a payee, but the signature is not required—on the 5th I find four orders 10l. each, S. Brown on E. Brown, and a 7l. order S. Johnson on E. Johnson, being 47l. out of 53l.; on the 6th E. Mason upon J. Mason, and J. Brown upon E. Brown, 10l. each, and E. Nash upon S. Nash, 10l.; on the 17th E. Davis upon S. Davis, three times for 10l., S. Johnson on E. Johnson, 3l., S. Nash on E. Nash, 10l.,
S. Munro on N. Munro, 10l., making 53l. out of 99l.; on the 9th two orders S. Johnson on E. Johnson, 10l. each, S. Brown on A. Brown, 8l., S. Knight on E. Knight, 10l., and S. Jones on A. Jones, 10l., making 48l. out of 80l.; on the 10th E. Johnson to S. Johnson two of 10l. each, E. Nash to S. Nash, 10l., S. Thomas on E. Thomas three for 10l. each, S. Brown on E. Brown, 10l., making 70l. oat of 84l. on that day; on the 11th S. Johnson on E. Nash, 10l. twice, the same again twice 10l., 8. Nicholson on E. Nicholson, 5l. 10s., S. James on E. James, 10l., E. Longley on 8. Robinson, 10l., S. Munro on E. Munro, 10l. and 5l. 10s., E. Mason on E. Brown, 9l. 10s., and E. Thomas on 8. Thomas, 8l., making 98l. 10s. out of 109l.—12th 8. Brown on E. Jones three times 10l., S. Munro on A. Munro, 9s. 17s., E. Knight on E. Brown, 9l. 10s. 60l., making 49l. 7s. 6d. out of 67l.—13th S. Nash on E. Nash, 10l. and 9l. 10s., E. Johnson on W. Johnson, 9l. 19s. 6d. and 10l., E. Woods on S. Woods, 10l., W. Parsons on T. Parsons, 10l. twice, 8. Thomas on E. Thomas, 10l., E. Jones on A. Jones, 9l. 10s., S. Brown on M. Brown, 19l. 17s., G. Munro on A. Monro, 10l., making 108l., out of 124l.; 14th A. Johnson on W. Johnson, 10l. twice, A. Brown on T. Brown, 10l. twice, S. Phillips on A, Phillips, 10l. twice, E. Knight on E. Brown, 10l., S. Knight on E. Knight, 10l., G. Munro on A Munro, 10l., 8. Brown on A. Brown, 8l. 10s., making 98l. 10s. out of 149l.—16th A. Taylor on J. Smith, 10l., 10l. and 5l., W. Newman on A. Marrian, 10l., E. Jones on S. Brown, 10l., R. Robinson on A. Knight, 10l., making 55l. out of 81l.—17th E. Dark on T. Spencer, 10l. three times, 30l. out of 47l.—July 1st, J. Theakle on A. Theakle, 9l. 10s. and 10l., S. Soap on T. Tilling, 9l. 10s., J. Thomas on A. Thomas, 10l., N. Brown on E. Knight, 9l. 19s. 6d., E. King on A. Jones, 10l., and J. Munro on A. Munro, 10l., 69l. odd out of 148l.—2nd, A. Clarke on C. Trotman, 10l., J. Aston on S. Aston, 9l. 19s. 8d., J. Clarke on A. Clarke, 10l., W. Johnson on A. Johnson, 10l., J. Frost on A. Frost, 10l., T. Clark on 8. Clark, 10l., J. Grubb on T. Lamb, 9l. 19s., T. Hall on A Phillips, 8l., 10s., A. King on T. King, 10l., and A. Brown on F. Brown, 5l., 93l. odd out of 121l.—3rd, A. Knight on T. Knight, 10l., T. Wigmore on A, King, 10l. and 10l., W. Johnson on T. Johnson, 10l., 10l., and 7l., W. Farley on A, Brown, 10l. and 10l., T. Jones on A. Jones, 10l. and 5l., J. Munro on A. Munro, 10l., T. Brown on A Brown, 8l. 10s., and J. Clarke on A. Clarke, 9l. 10s., 120l. out of 141l.—4th, J. Thomas on 8. Thomas, 10l. twice, T. Brown on A. Brown, 10l. twice, J. Munro on A Munro, 10l. and 5l. 6s., A. Hughes on R. Scott, 9l. 19s., G. James on J. James, 9l. 19s., J. Taylor on A. Taylor, 10l., W. Johnson on T. Johnson, 9l. 19s., T. Cox on A. Cox, 10l. and 5l., making 119l. out of 134l.—5th, J. Brown on A. Brown, 10l., 10l., and 7l., J. Clarke on A. Clarke, 10l., T. King on E. King, 10l., T. King on A. James, 9l. 19s. and 10l., J. Johnson on W. Johnson, 10l. twice, A. Trotman on T. Trotman, 9l. 10s., A. Munro on J. Munro, 10l. twice, J. Johnson on W. Johnson, 10l., 126l. out of 147l.—7th, A. Johnson on T. Jones, 10l. three times, S. Brown on A. Brown, 10l. twice, E. Knight on A. Knight, 9l. 10s., 59l. 10s. out of 105l.—8th, A. Lamb on S. Thomas, 10l. three times, S. Terry on J. Terry, 9l. 19s. and 10l., J. Munro on A. Munro, 10l. and 9l. 10s., S. James on C. Clarke, 10l. and 9l. 18s. 6d., T. Brown on A. Brown, 10l. and 9l. 10s., and A. Trotman on T. Trotman, 9l. 19s., 118l. out of 133l.—9th, T. Simmons on A. Bradbury, 10l. twice, T. Jones on A. Brown, 10l. and 9l. 19s., J. Smith on E. Smith,
10l. and 8l., J. Munro on A. Munro, 5l., W. Johnson on T. Johnson, 5l., T. Richards on A. Richards, 9l. 10s., T. Chapman on A. Chapman, 10l., T. Cox on A. Cox, 10l., J. Drown on A. Brown, 9l. 19s., 105l. out of 132l.—10th, T. Cox on J. Cox, 10l. twice, one on the Drury Lane office; E. Jones on A. Thomas, 9l. 10s. and 10l. (Regent Street office), J. Clarke on A. Bradley, 10l., Tottenham Court Road; T. Cannon on A. Cannon, 10l., Hollo way Road; W. Trotman on S. Jones, 10l. and 9l. 19s., Lothbury office; A. Johnson on T. Williams, 9l. 10s. and 5l., Threadneedle Street; W. Clarke on C. Clarke, 10l., Finsbury Pavement; W. Clarke on C. Longley, 9l. 17s., 6d. and 10l., Queen Victoria Street; J. Frost on S. Frost, 8l. 10s., Coleman Street Office; 132l. out of 142l.—I have gone through the accounts and the orders—they were drawn upon a great number of different offices.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. The yellow bundle shows the orders issued by Duckworth, and contains names and amounts other than those which have been read out—the particular names were not pointed out to me till the commencement of this case—the documents were received from the office, and come from the proper custody—that is all I know—they were all issued at the Lower Road, Rotherhithe office, and drawn on different offices and paid, some of them at the chief office, and others at the office on which they were drawn—I only know what appears on the papers.
JAMES FORD WIGHT . I am clerk in charge of the department for paying orders at the money order office, and the whole of this bundle (produced), except the first two, were paid through the London agent of the London and Joint Stock Rank, and transferred to the credit of the Joint Stock Rank at the Bank of England from the Postmaster-General's account, in accordance with the usual practice—the dates of issue are all illegible, the figures in the date stamp having been apparently left out—the letters "J N" and "J Y" are given with the month and the year, but the day is illegible in all—the perforated date of payment has been put on since by one of my clerks at the office, and the amounts would be transferred to the Joint Stock Bank on the date of the perforated stamp—when orders are paid through a bank they are all paid at the chief office, and the advice note is recalled from the original office—if an order reached me before 12 o'clock a transfer would be made out the same day—they would be credited to the bank any time before 12, and a transfer made out at the Bank of England the same day—as a matter of fact, the bank presents them before 11—none of these orders are signed; coming through a bank they require no signature; the bank stamp is the receipt—if I had known that Buckworth was issuing orders and paying them into his bank for the purpose of being sent on to us, to keep up his credit at the bank, I should have inquired into it and raised the question—I did report it.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have inquired into it and raised the question—I have two bundles here, but I only speak to the one containing the orders I have paid myself—the long list that has been read includes many more than those I have spoken to—I do not know who made out that long list—the two separate bundles are those which are paid through a bank, and those which were paid in cash to a person applying at the paying office—one of the bundles containing a large number of those read out have never been paid through Buck worth's banking account at all—that list does not go beyond 10th July; the last is issued and accounted for as the 10th, and paid
on the 11th—these presented by a bank amount to 900l.—I know nothing about the other bundle, as they were not paid through a bank at my office—I have made no list, and do not know who made the list.
FRANK EATON LANDER . I am cashier at the Southwark branch of the London and Joint Stock Bank—Buck worth kept an account there, which commenced some years ago—I produce a copy of his account—the balance on 3rd June was 1l. 8s. 5d.—from that date till about the middle of July there were on the one side a number of cheques presented and paid to the General Post-office, and on the other side a large number of post-office orders, which were the orders that have been produced—they were presented at the General Post-office by one of our clerks for payment—the balance is made up in our books from 80th June, and shows a balance there of 2l. 2s. in Buck worth's favour—I find a cheque drawn by him on 30th June for 140l. upon our bank, payable to the Post-office, and presented on 1st July—there would be nothing in the bank on 30th June to meet it, the balance that morning being 2l. 2s.—I find that 171l. 17s. 6d. cash was paid in on 1st July—I cannot say if 59l. 8s. 6d. out of the 171l. was in post-office orders; they are not dated, and I know nothing about the perforated date—there are no orders here of the 1st July—there are five of them perforated July 2nd—they have passed through our bank, and are presented to the Post-office for payment next day—these orders bear the perforated stamp, and come to 59l. odd—without that 59l. there would not have been sufficient in the bank to meet the 140l. cheque on 1st July—I find a further cheque from the Post-office for 145l. on 2nd July, the cash paid in on that day 146l. 9s. 2d., out of which I find six orders perforated 3rd July, amounting to 59l. 16s. 8d., without which there would not have been sufficient on the 2nd July to meet the 145l. cheque—3rd July cheque, 140l.; cash paid in, 140l. 7s. 1d., out of which are eight post-office orders perforated 4th June, amounting to 77l., without which there would not have been sufficient to meet the 140l. cheque—July 4th, cheque, 130l., and 137l. 7s. paid in, of which four post-office orders amount to 40l., without which there would have been insufficient to pay the cheque—5th, cheque 140l., cash 150l., including post-office orders, 37l., without which there would not have been sufficient—7th, cheque 130l. and 150l. paid in; six orders, 59l. 10s., without which there would not have been sufficient—8th July, 160l. cheque; 160l. paid in, out of which five orders, 49l. 19s., without which there would not have been sufficient—9th, 110l. cheque; 121l. paid in, out of which 39l. 19s. by post-office orders, without which there would not have been sufficient—10th, 120l. cheque, 120l. cash; six orders, 59l. 10s., without which there would hot have been sufficient, and cheques each day and post-office orders paid in to meet them until the 19th, when this cheque for 110l. was dishonoured—money was paid in, and the cheque was subsequently paid on 1st August—19th July, 165l.; cheque dishonoured, and has not been since paid—the date of drawing of that cheque is 28th July—the account is open still—notes, cheques, and money were paid in at the same time with the orders—I cannot say how much of it came from the other orders cashed at the branch offices.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. Buckworth has banked with us four or five years to my knowledge—a customer would be credited with post-office orders on the day they were brought—if brought at 10 o'clock we should not send them to the bank the same morning for collection—we always present them the next day—ours is a branch bank, and we should forward
them to the head office—postoffice orders paid in would be credited to the account the same day, although we should not receive the money till the following day—the 110l. cheque, 18th July, was presented on 19th July, but being dishonoured, would not appear in the account—the 115l. 6s. paid in the 19th must have been received after the cheque was dishonoured or we should have honoured it—I was present when it was presented to Mr. Friar, a fellow-cashier, through the Bank of England, with whom the Post-office banks—it may in the ordinary course have been presented any time from 12 to 4 o'clock through the clearing house—in looking to see if there were funds to meet a cheque we should take into account everything that appeared on the credit side on that day—the balance on that day would be 112l.—I cannot undertake to say there was not that balance when that cheque was presented—the endorsement is "Effects not cleared," which meant that there were money orders sufficient to meet it, but for which we had not yet received cash—those effects have been cleared since, and the account became then in a condition to pay the 110l. cheque, which was paid accordingly—I knew nothing about Buckworth personally, except as a customer—his account stopped on 19th July, and we had a small balance in hand—I believe there was a communication to our manager by the Post-office before the 110l. cheque was dishonoured—he is not here—but for such communication we should have treated the 115l. as cash, although consisting partly of money orders, and have paid the cheque.
Re-examined. Without these orders, amounting to 58l. 16s., perforated 21st July, there would not be sufficient on 19th July to meet the 110l. cheque.
KATE ODELL . I am assistant receiver at Finsbury Pavement post-office, and received by post this letter of advice on 10th July, authorising payment of 10l. to C. Clarke, and on the same day the order corresponding to it was presented for payment, signed, as now appears, "C. Clarke," and I asked the name of the remitter, but cannot identify the person who presented it—the name of the remitter, W. Clarke, was given, and it corresponded with the letter of advice, and I paid the money and claimed credit for the 10l. in my account in the ordinary course.
CHARLES LAW . I am employed at the Queen Victoria Street branch postoffice, and on 10th July received these advices (produced) for 9l. 17s. 6d. and 10l., both payable to C. Longley, and signed W. Clarke, and on the same day they were both presented for payment signed C. Longley—I do not not know who presented them.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. The advice note was received and order paid on the 10th—the order would be issued on the 9th, but the date is indistinct.
Re-examined. I reported it in my sheet on 10th July, and I concluded the orders would be drawn the previous day.
HENRY ADOLPHUS CRAMER . I assist my father at the post-office in Coleman Street—on 10th July I received this letter of advice for payment of 8l. 10s. to S. Frost—it bears our stamp, July 10th—on the stamp of the issuing office I cannot see any date but 79—it was presented signed S. Frost, remitter J. Frost, on 10th July, and I paid it—I asked who it came from—I believe a man presented it, but I did not know him.
Lower Road, Rotherhithe Post-office, and there saw Nash at the counter—I said "I want to see the receiver on official business"—she said "I know all about the post-office work; I am his sister-in-law; the receiver is out"—I said "Are you the officer whose name appears as 'S. Nash' on most of the money orders issued at this office?"—she said "Yes, I do most of the office work"—we went into a private sitting-room, and I said "I have received instructions to make inquiries concerning the dishonouring of a cheque for 165l. which was remitted by the receiver of this office to the receiver and accountant-general in respect of the money order business on Saturday last the 19th"—she said "Is it dishonoured? Mr. Buckworth is now out collecting money which he intended paying into the bank to-day to meet it; we did not think it would be presented until to-morrow"—I produced the money orders to her, those paid through the bank, and those paid through the respective offices, and said "There is a strong suspicion that the money order business transacted here recently is of a fictitious character in great part, and I have ascertained that over 100 of them representing just under 1,000l., payable to various persons on different offices in London, have been paid into the receiver's private account at the Southwark branch of the London and Joint Stock Bank"—she said "Yes, we did issue these, and pay them in, but we did not know it was wrong, as we debited ourselves with the commission"—I said "These money orders, 87 of them, have been paid at the offices on which they were drawn in 41 different names, it appears to me that the signature in the majority of instances to the receipt is that of the issuing clerk, S. Nash"—she said "Yes, I signed most of them; Mr. Buckworth signed a few"—I said "Then you must have disguised your handwriting"—she said "Yes, I did, as I was afraid it would be found out if I did not"—I then turned over some of the money orders; those not paid through the bank, and I came to six of them in different places in the bundle, and said "These, I believe, are in the handwriting of the receiver, Mr. Buckworth"—she said "Yes, I am very sorry I have done such a thing; I did not know it was wrong; I cashed most of the orders myself, and Mr. Buckworth would have got out of his difficulty in a short time, and stopped issuing the orders"—I think I then gave instructions for the office to be closed, and when Miss Nash knew it was going she said she was very glad, as it had worried her to death for the last two months—the orders had been issued to make up short cash—I said "It is absurd for you to say you have lost 165l. in two months"—she said "The post-office money and the business money has got mixed up together"—I asked for the requisition forms, and she said she had not kept any for a very long time—Buckworth came to the general office next day, and said "I have come to see you about that money order affair"—I said "It is a very serious matter"—he said "Yes, I see it is now, but I did not know there was anything criminal in it before"—I showed him the six money orders, and said "Your sister-in-law told me that you had signed them"—he said "Yes, they are all in different names"—he pointed to two, and said "These were paid to my brother at Croydon"—they passed through the bank at Croydon, and were not signed—he said "These two are genuine, and so are two or three others," and I said "The manager of the Joint Stock Bank was suspicious of the genuineness of the large money order deposits you were making, and he tried to verify them by ascertaining the date of issue; it appears to me that the date has been designedly omitted in order to facilitate the cashing"—he said "Yes, it has;
I am very sorry I allowed it to be done; I cashed none of them myself"—he went away then, and left the office—I saw him again on the 29th at the receiving house—I said "You will be charged with issuing fictitious money orders"—he said "I am very sorry," and I Raid to Nash "You will be charged with issuing fictitious money orders also"—she said "I never benefited one farthing by any of those transactions, and I am very sorry that I did it"—Buckworth said "No, she has not benefited a single farthing; what she has done has been done under my direction; I have nothing to conceal, and I will make a clean breast of it—I then gave them in custody of the police-officer.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. That was on the 29th, about 7 p.m., at his shop—the shop was open, and he was attending to his business—I went to him first on Monday, 21st, about 11 a.m., and he was not there—I had been to his bank, but knew nothing then of the 110l. cheque—I made no communication about that cheque till a few day afterwards—the 165l. cheque had arrived that morning—I went to the bank specially to obtain this cheque—it was crossed "Bank of England;" it was subsequently presented through the Bank of England—I do not know of my own knowledge—I took the cheque, and so far as I know it was dishonoured by my presenting it—the dishonouring did not actually take place—I presented it, and asked "Is the balance standing to the account with Mr. Buckworth sufficient to meet this cheque, if it is presented to-day?" and they told me it was not sufficient—I had got the cheque there.
Cross-examined by MR. McCALL. "When I gave them in custody, Nash said she had not benefited a farthing by the transactions, and had no idea she was doing anything wrong.
MR. CLARKE submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury, every one of the orders in question having been duly paid, and therefore there had been no fraud committed. The indictment applied specifically to the 10th July, and the attention of the Jury must be confined to that date.
MR. McCALL supported the objection, and urged that there was no evidence to show that Nash had profited by the transaction, or was at all aware of the condition of Buckworth's banking account.
MR. METCALFE contended that the money never in fact came into the hands of the Postmaster General, the prisoners having constantly substituted fictitious orders to conceal the original fraud.
THE COMMON SERJEANT would not withdraw the case from the Jury.
MR. METCALFE as representing the ATTORNEY-GENERAL claimed the right of reply.
MR. CLARKE objected, the Attorney-General in this case not having been instructed to appear.
THE COMMON SERJEANT was of opinion that the weight of authority was in favour of the right claimed.
ROBERT BRADFORD (Re-examined). I am not in a position to know whether the department has recovered the whole of the amount under a guarantee, but I have heard so—I do not know if it has been realised.
The prisoners received excellent characters.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, August 8th, 1879.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
702. HENRY SMITH (30) PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Newman and stealing two rings, a locket, and other articles, the property of Annie Mellish, having been convicted at Clerkenwell in May, 1871.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
703. WILLIAM HENRY RUSSELL (25) to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Turner, with intent to steal; also to a like offence in the house of Charles Arch, and stealing two shirts, and other articles; also to a like offence in the house of Walter Barnecott, and stealing one brush and 1 1/4 lb. of bacon, having been convicted at this Court in October, 1877.— Two Years' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
ELLISON and BRETON PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each. MR. M. WILLIAMS for the Prosecution offered no evidence against
PFLUGAR— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BESLEY and WILMOT Prosecuted; and MR. PURCELL Defended Goswell.
ARTHUR DOUGLAS NOVIS . I am cashier to the London and Provincial Bank, Tottenham—on 21st March, Goswell called to know our terms for opening a small account, he said he had taken a business at Stamford Hill—the manager agreed to allow him to open the account, and as he left he said that he had 18l. in his pocket—the manager agreed to let him leave it, but of course he was not to draw against it till he had paid in more—he was given a two dozen cheque-book, numbered 91929 to 91952 A on U—these two cheques were presented for 8l. 18s. 4d. and 3l. 12s., which were paid, and next day, April 21st, the account was closed by a cheque for the balance—no money was paid in afterwards—I know Goswell's writing.
Cross-examined. I saw him again when he presented the draft for the balance, 5l. 9s. 8d.—I only saw him on those two occasions—I saw him with a dozen others at the station and identified him, but I certainly had to look twice because he was altered—I may have said that he resembled the man—that was about the beginning of July; I had not seen him since 21st April, but he is the same man I am confident—he had altered a little—he was differently dressed.
Re-examined. He was better dressed at the bank, he had a silk hat and a black coat—he had been shaved when I saw him at the station—I have not the slightest doubt about him.
SAMUEL JAMES SLY . I am a clerk to the Anglo-Swiss Milk Company, 10, Mark Lane—on 6th or 7th May I received a letter, in consequence of which I forwarded a price list, and on May 19th received this order and cheque (produced), from a carman and gave him this delivery order in exchange—I believed the cheque to be good.
WALTER E. LEE . I am a clerk to the Anglo-Swiss Milk Company—on 19th May, Warner, to the best of my belief, brought this order and cheque and said that he came from Henry Goswell, of St. Andrew's Road.
WILLIAM MORRIS . I am clerk to Edward Pink, an Italian warehouseman, of Long Lane—on 6th May I received a letter and sent a price list—I then got two other letters, and on the 18th Warner came for the goods—he brought an invoice and a cheque for 10l. 8s. 6d., which was the value of the goods—I believed it to be good and gave him a receipt.
JAMES HARVEY . I am clerk to Charles Zetterquist, a blue merchant of Blackfriars Road—I received a letter, sent a price list, and got an order for goods, on the 17th, from Warner, I believe, and this cheque for 7l. 8s. 6d.—I let him take the goods away believing it to be good.
GEORGE YOUNG . I am clerk to Crosse and Blackwell of Soho Square—on 12th March I received a letter and sent a price list—on 14th May I received a letter in return, dated 13th May, and made up some goods value 15l. in accordance with it, which I sent by a carman, and after they had loft Warner came for the goods and brought this cheque for 15l., which he left with me—he came again next day for the goods, as they were not left on the Saturday—I told him he would have neither cheque or goods, and wrote a letter to Goswell.
SAMUEL BERGER . I am a starch manufacturer of Bromley-by-Bow—on 26th May I received a letter and gave an invoice for half a ton of starch, 16l. 17s. 9d.—on 23rd May Warner brought a cart and horse and a cheque for 16l. 17s. 4d.—I detained him and gave him in custody—the name of Goswell was on the van.
BERTRAM McCALL . I am clerk to J. McCall and Co., provision merchants of Houndsditch—on 19th June Warner came with this letter: "Gentlemen, please forward us per bearer your price list of Wilson's beef," and in the afternoon he called again with another letter on one of the same forms, which if lost, and I gave him an invoice and wrote at the bottom, "If you will hand us a cheque we will issue delivery order," and next day he brought a letter and this cheque. (This was dated 20th June, 1879, on the London and Provincial Bank for 19l. 18s. 4d., signed James Harrison.) I gave him the delivey order believing the cheque to be good, but it was returned through our bankers.
HENRY EDWARDS . I live at 131, Mare Street, Hackney—on 17th May I let a van to Goswell—he came twice—Warner came as well—Goswell gave me this card: "H. Goswell, wholesale grocer and drysalter, 27, Charles Street, Stamford Hill"—they had my van five or six times, and the man paid when he came back with the van—my name was on it, but on the last day I saw a plate on it with "Goswell" on it—I have seen the prisoners together twice or three times.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The carman brought the van back—they gave me the name of Goswell on each occasion, and this card.
CHARLES WILLIAM BURGESS . I am carman to Carter, Paterson, and Co.—I know both prisoners—I have seen Goswell at 27, Charles Street, St. Ann's Road, Stamford Hill—I have been there seven or eight times, taking goods there and getting paid for the carriage—I have seen Goswell sign my delivery sheet—on 10th April I delivered a parcel there for which Warner signed "Med.," and on 19th April another parcel for which Warner signed "Med."—this is my book—I also delivered another parcel there on 10th
May, for which Goswell signed, and on 3rd April a parcel which is signed for "H. Goswell."
ARTHUR NOVIS (Re-examined). These six cheques are all from the book which we supplied to Goswell, including the one signed John Harrison, which is Goswell's writing to the best of my belief—Goswell's signature is, to the best of my belief, the writing of the man who had an account at the bank, but it is disguised; the cheque he wrote to draw out the money is written in a sloping backward hand, the others are written free.
Cross-examined. I saw Goswell write this cheque (produced) in exchange for a draft, it is written backward, just the same as the others.
By MR. BESLEY. I have no doubt that these letters on this printed heading from 25, Charles Street, are written by the man who wrote this cheque, and I think the other live are all in the same writing, and the one of Harrison to Mr. M'Call also, but they are slightly different.
WILLIAM TRYLEE (Policeman Y 437). On 26th June I took the prisoners at Tottenham sitting on a rail by the side of the road—I did not know the charge, hut they were taken to Bow and charged the same night—I have been at Tottenham fifteen years—there is no such street as Cross Street. (The address on Harrisson's bill-heading.)
TIMOTHY ENWRIGHT (Policeman 19 K R). On 23rd May Mr. Berger called on me, and I went to his place and found Warner detained—he said, "Who is going to give me in custody I"—I said, "This gentlemen, Mr. Berger"—he said, "All right, I will make him pay for it"—the Magistrate allowed him to come up next day on his own recognisances, and he never surrendered.
GUILTY . Warner was further charged with a former conviction in Sept., 1869, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Two Years' Imprisonment each.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended Anderson.
BAXTER HUNT (City Detective). On 4th June I received a communication from a man named Matthews employed in rebuilding Anderton's Hotel, in consequence of which I followed Matthews next morning at 8.25 down Fleet Street, and saw Miles just turn from Barclay's door dressed like a porter, with a canvas apron and a skull cap—he turned into Farringdon Street as Matthews approached, stood on the other side, and I saw Matthews turn up Fleet Street—on 10th June, about 8 am, I watched again, and saw Miles standing at the end of Fleet Lane and the Old Bailey, and looking down Fleet Lane—I left Detective Parsons there, and went to the other end of the lane in Ludgate Hill, which took me about three minutes, and then I saw Miles come out with this parcel (produced)—he came towards me and I., said, "Where are you going to take that I am a police-officer"—he said, "To my master at 18a, Giltspur Street"—I said, "Who gave it to you?"—he said, "A man"—I said, "Who?"—he made no reply—I said, "Where did you see the man?"—he said, "About here"—I took him to the station, and found in the parcel 2 dozen bottles of Eno's fruit salt—I then went to the prosecutor's office, Anderson was called in, and I told him he would be charged with stealing a parcel containing 2 dozen of Eno's fruit salt, the property of his masters—he said, "There is another one a-doing of it. at the back"—I said, "Who is it I There is your master, you had better tell
him, but you need not tell unless you like"—he hesitated, and then said that there was no one else—I took him to the station, searched him, and found 11l. on him—I afterwards went with Parsons to 11, Haig Street, Bethnal Green Road, the address given by Miles, and found two similar parcels of Eno's fruit salt, which I took to the station, showed them to Miles, and said that they were found in his place, and asked him how he accounted for them—he said, "The same as the rest; he gave them to me"—I said, "Who are you referring to?"—he said, "anderson; I took them home for him, and he paid me for doing it"
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Anderson was not present—Mr. Barclay, jun., was present all the time I was speaking to Anderson—he is his master—he did not say, "Yes, you had better tell the truth."
Cross-examined by Miles. The parcels were under a couch where persons would not see them.
ARTHUR MATTHEWS . I am a bricklayer's labourer—I have been employed since the beginning of this year in the rebuilding of Anderton's Hotel, and have passed through Fleet Lane to my meals—I have passed Messrs. Barclay's door from 5 to 10 minutes past 8, and have seen Anderson taking parcels from the door—the first I saw was a box rolled up in a mat; he gave it to Miles, who walked away—I spoke to a gentleman, who sent a detective to my place, and I gave him information—Hunt went with me on 5th June, and I pointed out Miles—I have seen that take place pretty nearly every morning since Christmas—I counted 18 or 19 parcels from 1st May to the Saturday before Whitsuntide.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I do not know what the parcels contained.
EDWARD MOUNTSTEVEN WRIGHT . I am a partner in the firm of Barclay and Son, wholesale chemists and druggists—Anderson was our packer; he was employed principally in the export department—it was part of his duty to sweep out every morning—there is a door from the export department into Fleet Lane—we had several gross of Enos fruit salt in bottles similar to these—I have examined the paper and the cord; they are the same—the retail value of this parcel is 3l. 6s.—I do not know Miles; he had no business at our place.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Anderson has been in our service nearly five years, and he came with a character of several years—he has two infant children, and his wife is just about to be confined—I was not there when the officer said "You had better tell your master"—Mr. Barclay is not here—our place is the only chemist's in Fleet Lane—fruit salt comes in and goes out daily, but only in packages—it would be impossible for us to discover the absence of two dozen—I cannot swear that two dozen were stolen on 10th June.
WILLAM BATES . I keep a coffee and eating-house at 51, Old Street—Anderson has lodged there about 12 months, and Miles used to come there' to see him on Saturdays—I have seen Anderson bring parcels once or twice—Anderson used to come in on Saturdays and order a chop.
Miles's Defence. I am entirely innocent of being the receiver. I have a wife and children. I have been employed at one of the largest houses in the City, and had to take money in my employers' absence. I have a witness to prove that I did not leave home till past 8.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I am no relation, only a neighbour.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, August 9th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
708. JAMES SCUTCHEY (29) PLEADED GUILTY to four indictments for stealing 10s. of Henry Cook, 8s. of Alfred Patterson, 11d. of Jacob Miller, and 1s. 1 1/2 d. of Charles Swain, having been convicted in June, 1874; also to unlawfully obtaining the said sums by false pretences.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
711. ROBERT THOMAS MILLER (19) to feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of 5l. 11s. with intent to defraud.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
HARRIS PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. GRAIN and GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended Rarp.
HENRY CHARLES MARSHALL . I am an artificial flower manufacturer, of 19, Bridge water Square, Barbican—Harris was in my employ about two years as a maker of flowers—I had been losing things for a long while, and on 18th July I caused my manager, Leatham, to watch Harris after she left off work, and on 19th July, in consequence of something he told me, I caused Harris to be searched by Mrs. Castell in my warehouse—I was then almost immediately called into the room, and Mrs. Castell gave me some artificial flowers—I had a conversation with Harris, who mentioned a name, an address, and a sum of money in Sergeant Fluister's presence, in consequence of which I took out a warrant to search Rarp's premises, 191, Hoxton Street—I went there on the 19th with Fluister, Leatham, and the warrant officer at 6 p.m.—there are two doors to the shop; it is at the corner of a street; the front entrance is in one street and the private entrance at the side—the officer read the warrant to Mrs. Rarp, and Sergeant Fluister asked her whether Lizzie Harris had been in the habit of coming there—I did not enter at the first moment—the premises were searched, and a quantity of leaves and flower materials were shown to us, the major portion of which are mine—they are technically known as unmounted goods, but there are some here which I can identify more fully, as they have my private mark on them in Mr. Leathcam's writing—I bought them in Paris—I have the same patterns on my premises—I have never sold this leaf in this form, and I never knew Rarp—here are some leaves of a peculiar character which I gave special orders for to Mr. Dean—I also buy leaves of Gatti and Co., of Farringdon Street, and I find some leaves here which came from their premises, but I cannot swear to them with certainty, as other people can buy them also—Harris dusted the warehouse in the mornings, and had an opportunity of taking goods, as she would be by herself.
Cross-examined. I bought the brown leaves in Paris, and swear to them
by my private mark, and the small bunch of green leaves were manufactured expressly for me—the rest may have been supplied to other people—I heard Mr. Kent, Mr. Bovet, and Mr. Neuberger say at the police-court that they supplied Rarp with goods without invoices—I both make and mount these flowers.
Re-examined. These sprigs cost me 2s. 9d. a gross in Paris—this is a fancy mastic leaf, and this is a fancy ivy leaf, at 1s. 6d. per gross—the leaves found on Harris were not so good; they were worth 1s. 3d. a gross.
By the JURY. We give out one, two, or three gross of leaves to each girl—they do not take them off the premises without special permission—we give them sufficient for the work they have in hand, and do not book them—we try to see that the same quantity is returned into the warehouse—if everybody was honest there would be no waste—the manufactory is the upper floor, and the warehouse the ground-floor.
ELLEN CASTELL . I am Mr. Marshall's forewoman—from instructions I received on Saturday, 19th July, I called Harris into a private room, searched her, and found three or four pockets all round her skirt, in one of which were a quantity of artificial leaves and flowers loose (produced)—Mr. Marshall came in and gave her in custody.
WILLIAM JOHN FLUISTER (Detective Sergeant). On 14th July, from information I received, I went to Mr. Marshall's, and Harris was given into my custody—Mrs. Castell gave me these flowers, and I put them in this bag—I took her to the station, and she gave me a name and address—I then obtained a search warrant, and between 5 and 6 that evening went to Rarp's shop with Mr. Marshall, Mr. Leatham, and the warrant officer—I said, "Are you Mrs. Rarp?"—she said "Yes"—I said, "I am an officer of the City of London Police, and this officer, 78 G, holds a warrant for searching your premises. Do you know a person named Harris?"—she said "No"—I gave her Harris's description, and then she said, "I had a woman of the name of Harris working for me some time ago"—I said, "Would you give me the description of her?"—she described a tall woman—I said, "That will not answer the description of Lizzy Harris"—we then searched the place, and found in the shop 52 gross of leaves and eight sprays of flowers, and on the stall outside 44 sprays, and in the workroom and stall 55 sprays and three gross of leaves; on the first-floor 67 gross of leaves in one box and 77 gross in another, which the prosecutor identified in her presence—here are five boxes of them (produced)—I said to her, "Have you got any receipts?"—she said "Yes," and produced two files—I have been over them, and found one receipt in 1879 for 1s., and some in 1878—I took Rarp in custody—her shopwoman, Flora Kemp, was there.
Cross-examined. It is a flower shop—a portion of the property which Mr. Marshall identified was exposed to view on a stall outside the shop—Rarp is, I believe, married; her husband is a watchmaker, and works at the West End.
Re-examined. Her shop is a mile or a little more from Mr. Marshall's—goods were exposed outside and inside—the private entrance is in Turner Square, and the shop is in Hoxton Street.
JOHN LEATHAM . I am Mr. Marshall's manager—from instructions I received I watched Harris on Friday, 18th July—she left the premises between 7 and 8 p.m., and I followed her to Mrs. Rarp's in Hoxton Street—she went in at the private door; it was then close upon 8 o'clock, and the
shop was open—I did not wait; I came home—on Saturday the 19th I went to Mrs. Rarp's premises, and helped to get this property produced out of her stock—we have similar patterns in stock—I swear to these leaves; they hare our private mark on them in my writing.
Cross-examined. I do not say that the rest of the property may not be supplied to every flower maker in London, except the green ivy and the brown leaves—we do not take the mark off when we give them out, but we mark very few leaves.
EDITH THOMPSON . I am female searcher at Moor Lane station—on 19th July I searched Harris, and found these flowers in two pockets in her petticoat—there were not pockets all round—she mentioned a name and address to me.
ALFRED PEPPERCORN . I live at 11, Alfred Street, Haggerston—I went into Mrs. Rarp's service in February this year, and remained till June; during that time I saw Harris there two or three times a week.
Cross-examined. She was coming all those five months two or three times a week—I said before the Magistrate "I do not know where the leaves were from; I imagined Harris was stealing them"—I did not say a word about it to the prosecutor till I had left Mr. Rarp's service—she did not diedischarge me—I did sell her goods in my own name—I said also "When I was with Mrs. Rarp I did not think she was buying stolen property"—I did not say in Flora Kemp's presence that I would ruin Mrs. Rarp, and tread on her toes pretty heavily—I heard her swear that—she is here.
Re-examined. The arrangement was that I should work for Mrs. Rarp for 30s. a week, and 2 1/2 per cent on all the goods that I sold, and I sold her my tools value 6l.—she said that' as my name was so well established in the City she thought it advisable for me to continue selling in my own name—I am well known in the trade as a flower manufacturer.
Cross-examined. This leaf was never imported by anybody but our firm, nor by us for other people.
Cross-examined. I never saw Harris bring parcels there—I was always in the shop—on the day that Peppercorn left he said that he would tread on her toes heavily and ruin her in the City.
Re-examined. I have seen Harris in the shop as a customer, and have served her with millinery, not with flowers, but with navy blue and pearl blue ribbon—I have not seen her two or three times a week in the shop, but about two or three times in a month—the shop closes at 12 o'clock on Saturday nights, and at 9.30 or 10 o'clock on Fridays, but I am only engaged to stay till 9 o'clock—Harris generally came in the afternoon, but sometimes in the evening—I did not know where she worked—I knew her name from the assistants—she was a regular customer—I do not know whether Mrs. Rarp knew her—customers do not come to the private entrance—I do not know that Harris was a friend of Mrs. Rarp's—on Friday, 18th July, I left the shop about 8.15; Mrs. Rarp was not in the shop then, but she was in the house between 7 and 8 o'clock—she has a servant—we should sometimes hear in the shop a knock or a ring at the door in Turner Square—I often
hear knocks, but cannot remember whether I heard one on the night in question—Peppercorn was there when I went there; I scarcely ever had anything to say to him—the threat about ruining her was in the shop; Amelia Watson, the assistant, was present, and Mr. and Mrs. Rarp—Mr. Rarp live* there, I believe; he is a German—I did not hear him or Miss Watson say anything to that hreat, nor did I—Harris came to the front door.
MARY SCOTT . I live at 20, James Street, Hoxton, and have known Mrs. Rarp about four years—I am in her employment—I have seen Harris in her shop and at the side door in Turner Square—I have seen her bring flowers and sell them to Mrs. Rarp two ox three times a week, and have seen money pass between them—Peppercorn was in Mrs. Rarp's employ—I left before he did.
Cross-examined. I have left five or six months, my mother took me away because they used to send me down to the city—I never heard Mrs. Taylor make any complaint about a missing florin or some missing ribbon—I was not before the Magistrate—Mr. Leatham came to me last Wednesday night, and I told him I had seen Harris at Mrs. Rarp's bringing flowers and saw money pass—she came to the side door.
Re-examined. I think he first mentioned about her coming to the side door.
LIZZIE HARRIS . (The Prisoner.) I was in Mr. Marshall's service, and have pleaded guilty to stealing some flowers from him—I sold them to Mrs. Rarp, who I knew by my mother working for her—I went there with flowers two or three times a week, sometimes to the shop and sometimes to the side door—she did not ask me where I got them from—I have had 1s. or 1s. 6d. at a time from her—I never took her a spray, always leaves—I took her two gross of leaves on 18th July—I had not told her I was coming—I knocked at the side door, and I believe she opened it—I sold her two gross of unmounted ivy leaves at 6d. a gross—she never asked where I got them, and I never said—I believe I also took these mastic leaves—I had a pocket in my petticoat and in my dress as well, because I had taken an old skirt for a petticoat—when I took the leaves to Mrs. Rarp I took them out of my pockets, but she could not see me do so—it is since Christmas that I began taking leaves.
By the JURY. I do not know whether the girls who make flowers buy materials and take them home and make them up and sell them to little shops, but if I wanted a dozen or two of leaves I used to buy them.
RARP received a good character— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment. HARRIS was strongly recommended to mercy by the prosecutor, being in very bad health.— Two Months' Imprisonment without hard labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, August 9th, 1879.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. MORICE Prosecuted; and MR. RIBTON Defended.
FRANCIS JOHN SIMS . I was clerk at the Marylebone County Court, but have since left; a copy of the judgment is annexed to the depositions—this is an extract from the minute book—I produce the papers in the case against Hicks, the original summons marked B is attached to it.
Cross-examined. I have not a copy of the Judge's or shorthand writers' notes, and no account of the examination or cross-examination.
JOHN FAULKNER I live at 7, Bradmore Park Terrace, Hammersmith, and am the owner of 3, Belgrave Road, which was let to Joseph Hicks, senior, who owes me two quarters' rent—I took proceedings in the Marylebone County Court—there were three or four adjournments—at the hearing on 21st May the prisoner was examined as a witness and I heard his evidence; he said, "While I was removing my goods from 3, Belgrave Road, by a van, Mr. Faulkner came to the house and said, 'As you have got your goods away the keys will be of no use to you, so you may as well give them up to me,' and I then and there gave them to Mr. Faulkner"—I was not at Belgrave Road on the day mentioned; I was at Hammersmith all day, and therefore any conversation of the kind could not possibly have taken place—I have an entry on that date in my diary, "At Hammersmith all day and wrote to Mr. Hicks"—I wrote down his statement directly I got home from the Court, and as near as I could recollect they are the words he used—I have not received any letters from the prisoner—I have received letters from his father, the tenant, and have seen him twice with reference to this matter—the prisoner conducted his father's business when he first took the shop, and I have seen him there often—the key has never to this day been given up to me as alleged, and no meeting of the kind to which the prisoner referred took place—he came on or about the 25th January, with Mr. Child's son, to negotiate with me for the purpose of giving up, and they offered me then 8s. 6d. in the pound—they had entered a second quarter—that was on the part of the father; he said he had given up possession on the 17th, but on the 25th January he was there' negotiating to give it up then and offering 8s. 6d. in the pound of the rent—he came again on 26th March, 1878, with his father to negotiate giving up the house—that was after the prisoner had sworn that he had given up the keys and given up possession.
JAMBS ELLIS MILLER . I live at 125, Canterbury Road, Kilburn—I was present in the County Court, Marylebone, and heard the prisoner's evidence on 21st December, 1877—while he was removing his goods in a furniture van Mr. Faulkner came up and said to him, "Well, the keys are of no use to you new, and you may as well give them to me," and that he there and then handed to Mr. Faulkner the keys—I made no memorandum, but am prepared to swear that is what was said.
EMMA TODD . I live at 18, Sharland Road, Paddington—I remember being in Mr. Faulkner's shop at the latter end of March, 1878, when Hicks, senior and junior came in and asked the prosecutor, my brother-in-law, to write out a document, which he did and gave it to the prisoner, who said, "What do you mean by dilapidations, there are none?"—Mr. Faulkner said, "You must be a fool to say there are none"—the prisoner's father said, "I will not have my son called a fool, you shall neither have the keys nor money," and with that they left the shop immediately.
JOHN FAULKNER (Cross-examined). I was never at the house during December except on the 5th to my recollection, but cannot swear I was not there between the 5th and 24th—I used to go to the next door once or twice a week for my letters—I knocked at the door on the 5th, and it was opened to me, but I did not go in—I was not there when any goods were being removed—the father took the house in 1875, and the prisoner carried on the business there for him—he was a shoemaker—I found the shop closed
on 5th December, and it said on the shutters, "In consequence of bankruptcy business is suspended"—I did not go there in December and call all the lodgers down—I saw them, but do not know how many—I did not ask them for their rent books—they asked me to take the rent—I told them I could not do that, as I had nothing to do with it, and that they had better speak to Mr. Hicks before paying any more—I did not tell them in express terms not to pay—the person who came to the door called all the lodgers down, and they said, "What are we to do? Will you advise us what to do? Are we to pay any more rent to Mr. Hicks? We have paid our rent up to the present time, and you can see our books"—they brought the books down to me; then I said, "I would advise you to see Mr. Hicks's receipt before paying any more rent"—he brought an action against me in the County Count—I did not hear any claim for specific damages—I heard that he said I had interfered with his lodgers, and they had not paid him his rent—I did not go into the house from 5th December till 25th January, when I met Mr. Hicks—I was not there on any occasion when goods were being removed, and cannot tell when he went away—he swore it was on the 17th—Miller is a tradesman who does my work—I have nobody to swear to the exact words he used—I claimed 14l. in the County Court for dilapidations, but that was not the principal cause of dispute with Hicks senior—the prisoner denied that there were any dilapidations—no amount was mentioned in conversation—I said, "There is the rent due, and there will be dilapidations; you send a surveyor to meet my surveyor, and whatever they assess, that will be the amount"—we were discussing the point, and the prisoner kepi saying, "There ain't no dilapidations," and at last I said, "You are a fool to talk like that"—I saw the papers torn off the wall on 25th January, when I found the prisoner and the solicitor's son in the house—they had let themselves in with the keys that he had—I had not a key—I gave the key originally to the father, and they never gave it up—I did not go to the house between December 5th and January 25th—it was closed and they had the keys on 25th January, and the prisoner was in the house—his agreement specified that he was not to let the house to lodgers.
Witnesses for the Defence.
KATE TRIMMER . I am the prisoner's sister-in-law—I was staying at Belgrave Road in December, and remember Mr. Faulkner coming there when the shop was shut up, about two or three weeks before Christmas—I went into the parlour while he was there, and he asked why the shop was shut—the prisoner was there—that was before he had removed his goods—Faulkner asked where Mr. Hicks, senior, was, and the prisoner told him he was in Seven Sisters Road, and that the shop was closed because his father was in liquidation—Mr. Faulkner said he would have some one in that could keep the shop open, and he had better go out—the prisoner said he would tell his father, but he did not see what that was to do with him, as there was nothing owing to him then—the prisoner removed his goods about a week after that interview, and Mr. Faulkner came up to the van when the last load of goods was standing there, and I saw him speaking to the prisoner, but did not hear what was said—a person named Brown was close to the van—the goods were all removed on that day—I never saw the prisoner there after because I went away with him; I left with the goods.
had been closed a day or so—he knocked at the door and my little boy opened it—he asked who was there and where Mr. Hicks was, and he said he did not know but believed he was out as the shop was closed—he said "Who are you?"—my boy told him, and he said, "Go and call your mother"—I came down and Mr. Faulkner appeared to be in a great passion and asked me for my rent book—I said "I have only been here a fortnight"—he said "Have you paid your rentl"—I said "No, I have not," and he told me I was not to pay any rent to Mr. Hicks as he had got the shop closed, he would get some one there that could keep it open—he asked if there were any more lodgers in the house—I said "Yes," and he said "Call them down," and I sent my child to call them and was present when they came down—he told them the same as he had told me, and that he should be glad to have the house cleared as soon as possible—in consequence of that I did not pay any rent to Mr. Hicks as I did not know to whom to pay it, and I left the house the following day after Hicks had removed his goods.
Cross-examined. With regard to what Mr. Faulkner said I speak from memory—he did not say I was not to pay rent unless I got Mr. Hicks's receipt—he said I was not to pay any rent to Mr. Hicks, I do not think he said anything about a receipt.
By the COURT. I saw the goods removed the day before I left—I think I left on the 18th—I did not see Mr. Faulkner there the day the goods were removed.
WILLIAM BROWN . I am a cordwainer—I helped the prisoner to remove the goods from the house at Belgrave Road sometime in December before Christmas—while the van was there Mr. Faulkner came up and I heard him say to the prisoner "Whose goods are they?"—he said "Mine" he asked "Are they all yours?"—the prisoner said "Yes"—he asked "Have you got them all out?"—he replied "Yes"—Mr. Faulkner said "Give it to me," and I saw Hicks give it to him and the goods were taken away; but I do not know whether anybody else was left in the house.
By MR. RIBTON. I have sworn this before—I said that I saw the key passed.
NOT GUILTY .
714. JOHN PRENDERGAST (22) and EDWARD LLOYD (21) , Stealing in the dwelling-house of Francis Butzenbach four boxes of cigars and other goods, and 13l. in money, and afterwards burglariously breaking breaking out of the same.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. FRITH appeared for Prendergast, and MR. A. B. KELLY for Lloyd.
CARL DRESSER . I am waiter at the Crown Hotel kept by the prosecutor—I know Lloyd—I saw the prisoners in the doorway of the coffee-room a few minutes before 12 o'clock on the night of the robbery—I shut and locked the doors—I have seen Prendergast there before.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. It was not uncommon to see Prendergast there—I do not know if I saw him there that night.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. Lloyd had been a potman in the house, but left on Saturday night—this was Monday night—lodgers come to take rooms, and Lloyd used to carry their luggage.
Re-examined. I did not see Prendergast in the coffee-room on that night—I cannot say whether I saw him in the public-house.
everything safe in the bar, and more than 13l., mostly in half-sovereigns, locked in a desk, and letters and papers and some tools in a drawer—this screwdriver (produced) belongs to my master—I was roused early in the morning, and on coming down found the place in disorder, the desk broken open, and the money gone—I had seen Prendergast in the house the day before—Lloyd had been in the prosecutor's service up to Saturday night, when he was discharged—I returned to go upstairs, as I was coming down Lloyd met me on the stairs, and pushed me, and said "Let me go"—I called out, and the policeman took him—I had seen him very late the previous night, and he asked me if the governor was coming home—I said No, not that night—the seats round the coffee-room project sufficiently to allow a person to be concealed under them.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. Lloyd had been in and out on the Sunday evening, and he came again on the Monday—I do not know if he was in the habit of receiving gratuities from lodgers for removing their luggage—there was no lodgers in the house then—he would only get gratuities from them when they left—when he was passing me on the stairs I said "It's Fred our potman; stop him," and he said "Let me go, let me pass."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. That was 3 o'clock in the morning.
WILLIAM MASKELL (Policeman C 50). I was passing by the Crown at 2.25 am., and heard the door shut suddenly—I waited about for 20 minutes, and heard something in the house like wood cracking, and saw Prendergast look out at the door, and then come outside, pull the door to, and whistle—he walked towards me, and saw me concealed in a doorway, and said "Will you give me a light, policeman?"—I saw something sticking out of his breast pocket, and I took it out, and took him in custody back to the house, and told him I should take him for breaking out of the house—I then handed him over to C 312, and went into the house by the private door into the bar, and saw two bottles of champagne in the passage, and another in the coffee-room, a till box in the bar, a cigar box on the floor, and a piece of wood broken from the till—the marks on the till correspond with this instrument—I found a key on the window-sill which fits and opens the private door—I got through a window on the stairs, and in at the window of the next house, No. 20, and found the window broken, and when I got back I found Lloyd in custody of C 41—I examined the coffee-room, and saw dust under the seat in a corner, as if some one had been concealed there.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I found a pipe and pieces of cigars on Prendergast—I could not say now if it was a wet and windy night—there was a lamp at the corner, but it was very dark—he was the first to speak, and I took him before he finished the sentence—he at once told me he knew nothing about it—he had a handful of matches in his pocket—he said he was on his way to Covent Garden, and had been with some girls—I found 4s. on him.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I first saw Lloyd in custody of C 41, but I saw him rush away from him, and try to get upstairs—C 41 ran after him, and caught him on the stairs when the barmaid stopped him—I was at the bar door leading to the private passage.
JOHN HEALEY (Policeman C 41). About 2.55 a.m. I saw Prendergast in custody of C 50, and waited at the door while he went in—Lloyd peeped round the corner and saw me and ran away and I caught him in Porter Street and brought him back to the house—I went inside the passage and
let go his collar, and he sprang away and ran upstairs—the barmaid was coming down and stopped him, and I caught him and took him to the station—I found 14s. 7 1/2 d. upon him—while in the dock I saw some gold in his mouth—I put my hand in his mouth and tried to get it out, but he succeeded in swallowing it.
Cross-examined by MR. KELLY. I do not think my catching him by the throat made him swallow it—I had not seen Lloyd at the house before he peeped round the corner.
CAROLINE GWINN . I am wife of George Gwinn, 28, Newport Street—the back of our house abuts on the Crown Hotel—about 4 or 6 am. on the 14th I was roused by the policeman and found the back staircase window broken—it was not broken when I went to bed the night before.
RICHARD GODFREY . I am a warder at Clerkenwell Prison, and had Lloyd under my charge last week—I searched him in his cell on Sunday, and found these three half sovereigns in his pocket—I asked him if he had any more or whether he had lost any—he said "That is all I swallowed."
Prendergast's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was walking through the court I was not in the house at all I asked the policeman for a light He said, 'What are you here by this time in the morning for V I said,' I have been with a woman to look for her husband.' He said, I heard something in this house 20 minutes ago. You wait here a minute.' I waited. He rang the bell, a man came down, and the policeman asked him whether anybody was in the house. Another policeman came up, and he handed me over to him while he went up to take me to the station. He must have found that tool inside, for I never had it my possession, and never came out of the house at all I had only 4s. and some other little things on me, and I am innocent"
PRENDERGAST was further charged with having been convicted at Bow Street in August, 1874, to which he
LEADED GUILTY.**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
LLOYD— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and PURCELL Prosecuted.
JAMES WALLACE BUTCHER (Police Inspector). I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant on 26th July at 48, Drummond Crescent—I went into the house and said "Are you Henry George Hyde?"—he said "Yes"—I read the warrant to him—he said "I did not forge it, and that is all I know about it"—I asked him for his box or writing-desk—he said "I have nothing here; all the certificates I sent in I had from my employer; I had good testimonials from the Rev. Mr. Canning and others"—he gave me his age as 21.
HARRY FINCHAM . I am a clerk in the Civil Service Commission—the prisoner was a candidate as subordinate officer in the prison service in June last—candidates in London go to the Home Office and fill up a form of application, and are then taken to a room before the directors of the convict prisons and they consider whether the applicant should have a nomination,
and he is then taken to a doctor and examined—an order is sent to him and a form filled up before he attends to be examined—the prisoner was instructed to attend on 23rd June—on the 21st I received this form filled up—he came on the 23rd and was examined—he came to me immediately afterwards, and I went through the form with him, asking him questions with reference to the particulars, and wrote down his answers in red ink—he produced this indenture of apprenticeship, endorsed, "We the undersigned can fully and confidently recommend Henry G. Hyde, our late apprentice, for his honesty and good conduct, &c., &c., signed "Arthur J. Lusher, John Lusher," dated 2nd May, 1878—I noticed a peculiarity in the spelling, and asked him to leave the indenture with me—I received this letter, which is in the same writing as the prisoner's entries on the form—I then communicated with Mr. Lusher.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I cannot say whether you handed these certificates to me, I had so many candidates before me—I do not remember whether I ever saw them, but I believe not—Mr. Davis a printer gave me a good reference, but you had only been with him a short time—we look at the indenture of apprenticeship more than anything else—if we have a certificate of faithful service, we privately communicate with the parties.
ARTHUR JOHN LUSHER . I am a printer in partnership with my brother at Diss, in Norfolk—the prisoner was apprenticed to us in June, 1872, and left us on 28th April, 1877—the signature to this endorsement on the indenture of apprenticeship is a forgery—I know the prisoner's writing and believe it to be his—it is not a correct character—I was communicated with by the Civil Service Commissioners in June—the prisoner's mother called upon me and this letter of 30th June is in the prisoner's writing—I have no charge of dishonesty or insobriety; I was not satisfied as to his respectability—he had bad associates and I warned him from time to time—I had no idea the endorsement was on the indenture—the indenture was not given up, when he left it was in the hands of a person who held it for both parties, and I did not endorse or authorise the endorsement of that certificate.
The Prisoner in his defence stated that he wrote to his friends to ask Mr. Lusher to Jill up a form for him, as he said he would give him a reference, and on receiving the reference he took it to Westminster and was not aware it was forged, and subsequently receiving a letter to sag that Mr. Lusher would not give him a reference, he wrote to withdraw the application, and heard nothing more till taken in custody.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. M. WILLIAMS Prosecuted.
CHARLES BATES . I am a barge owner and contractor, at 1, Ashburnham Gardens, Chelsea—I engaged the prisoner to take charge of a barge called, "Who'd a thought it," and paid him in advance 2l. 5s. a journey, and he was to come back with the barge—on 30th May I paid him and instructed him to deliver a cargo of ashes at Southend, and to bring back a freight of bricks from my field, if he could get it—he was also paid 1l. a week while the barge was being repaired—he had nothing to do with the freight and had no money to bring back, I sell the goods delivered—he ought to have come back with the barge, but did not, and I did not see the barge till the 26th July.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were not work her on the shore—you were paid in advance for every journey—the goods Were delivered and you had nothing to do with the freight—you were paid according to the distance, and ought to have come back again with the bricks.
By the COURT. He took the cargo on 30th May. (Cargo book produced)—that is the freight and he has not delivered the money.
JOHN DAVID DRUKE . I am a brickmaker and barge owner at Sittingbourne—the prisoner asked me at my office at Hemsley, at the beginning of July, for a freight up, and came next day to go to London for a freight of manure for me—he brought back that freight and was paid for it and asked me for a further freight, which I gave him, but he passed it to soma one else—I advanced him money before he started and he had the remainder when he returned, 4l. in all.
CHARLES BATES (Re-examined). The barge was stolen 25th June—it was entrusted to him May 30th, but he got into bad weather and she was repaired June 25th—I ordered the repairs—we did not complain of the barge not being back till July, but from 25th June the time she was repaired—he had my orders to come back.
By MR. WILLIAMS. I received from him this letter of 3rd of June. (Read: "Arrived at Southend. We shall not unload before Thursday or Friday. We have met with bad weather and cannot come to London before she is repaired. There is only one boat holding it on. I had to employ four men to pump and to keep her afloat or she would have sunk. The agreement for the four men is 5l. You had better come down and advise what to do, &c.") I wrote this reply, dated June 4th, "I am very surprised at your bad seamanship. I thought you were capable of managing a barge in rough weather. You knew that it was stormy on Sunday. Why did you not go in the bay and lay till the wind had abated and make for the beach on Monday or Tuesday, instead of placing the barge in immediate danger. However, you keep in harbour till 1 come down or send." I went down to Southend and instructed the shipwright to repair her—she was finished on 25th June—the prisoner had my instructions to come to London again for a freight—I did not see the barge again till July 26th—he was using her for his own profit after 25th June.
HENRY GILES (Policeman B 287). On 23rd July I took prisoner in custody in charge of the barge off Botherhithe—I read the warrant to him, and he said "I never stole the barge and never intended to steal it; I took her down the river, where she was unloaded, and there was afterwards some repairs done to the barge; I then went to Milton and got the freight of bricks; she is loaded with the bricks now, here they are"—I searched him at the station and found nothing upon him—he said "I have not got a penny-piece."
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Monday, August 11th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CROOME Prosecuted; MR. WILLS appeared for Walwyky and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS with MR. GEOGHEGAN for Ebblewhite.
JOHN DAVIS (City Detective). In consequence of instructions from my inspector I watched Walwyk on Thursday, 10th July last—I saw him in Aldgate about twenty minutes past 8—he had nothing with him that I saw—he went into a music shop kept by Ebblewhite's father, and I saw him speak to the prisoner Ebblewhite at the shop and receive a parcel from him—I then followed him to the shop of Mr. King, a tobacconist in Leadenhall Street—he went in and spoke to Mr. King, came out again, and went back to Ebblewhite—he spoke to him and then returned to Mr. King's, they are about 300 or 400 yards apart—he vest into Mr. King's, I want to the window and saw a lot of amber mouth-pieces on the counter, similar to those (produced)—I saw something given by Mr. King to Walwyk, but was not able to see what it was, Walwyk then left—I went and spoke to Mr. King and then followed Walwyk to Ebblewhite's shop—I there saw him give Ebblewhite some money—he was in there five or ten minutes—he came out and went into the Three Nuns public-house, where he was joined by a man named Edlin—they had something to drink—on their coming out I arrested Walwyk and Underwood arrested Edlin—I said to Walwyk, "We are two detective officers of the City Police—you have sold eight dozen amber mouth-pieces this evening to Mr. King, of Leadenhall Street"—he said "You seem to know all about it, it is no use my denying it, I did"—I then said "What you say to me now may be used against you before the Magistrate"—he said "Well, there is a young man getting them for me, and I am selling them for him; if I tell you the whole truth will it make any difference to me?"—I said "That I don't know"—he said "Well then, it is young Ebblewhite at the music shop"—I then gave him into the custody of Underwood, and I went to Oxford Street, Mile End, and saw Ebblewhite; he lives there—I said to him, "I am a detective officer of the City Police; I have a man in custody of the name of Walwyk, and he makes a statement against you; he says that you gave him eight dozen mouthpieces to sell this evening"—Ebblewhite said "I have not seen him, and I know nothing about it"—I then took him to Seething Lane Station, where Walwyk and Edlin were, and they were all three put in the dock—Walwyk said to Ebblewhite, "You know you gave me those to sell to-night"—Ebblewhite denied it; he said he knew nothing about them—they were then charged—next morning I went to Mr. King's, and received from him 3 meerschaum pipes, 1 cigarholder, 5 dozen and 8 screw mouthpieces, 1 dozen and 6 mounts, and 10 amber mouthpieces and 1 silver mount I received from Mr. Charreton—7 dozen and 11 I received from Mr. King the same night I arrested the prisoners, and on searching Ebblewhite I found in his pocket one exactly like those which made up the 8 dozen—on the morning of the 11th I showed Walwyk the whole of these goods, and told him that I had received
them from Mr. King and Mr. Charreton, of Leadenhall Street—he said "Yes, I received the lot from Ebblewhite"—Ebblewhite said "It is no use my denying it; I will tell the truth; I did give them to him to sell the whole of them; I have been getting them from a boy named Ansell who is employed by Mr. Posener, a pipe manufacturer; I am old enough to know better, and I am sorry for what I have done; he has been getting them for me, and I have been selling them"—I afterwards received from Mr. Charreton 41 screw mounts, which I produce.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. It was just about dusk on the 10th when I followed Walwyk; it was light enough for me to see what was going on—there was no concealment.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAM It was between 10 and 11 at night when I took Ebblewhite—I did not make any note of the conversation—he may have said "I ought to have known better, as he was so young; he brought them from time to time to my shop, and I have been foolish Dough to sell them for him through Walwyk"—Ansell was never given into custody; he was examined as a witness before the Magistrate; he is a boy of about 14—Edlin was discharged after two remands—Mr. King told me the prices he gave for the things, but I cannot remember them—I never heard that Mr. Posener's shop had been broken into—Mr. Ricketts, appearing for Walwyk, asked about it in cross-examination before the Magistrate, and Mr. Posener said not.
CHARLES UNDERWOOD (City Detective). I was with Davis between 9 and 10 on 10th July in Aldgate—I saw Walwyk and Edlin go into the Three Nuns, and shortly after they came out I arrested Edlin—I was present on the 10th when the two prisoners were in the dock with Edlin—Walwyk said "I received these amber mouthpieces and pipes from Ebblewhite"—Ebblewhite said "No, you did not; I know nothing about them"—next morning I was present when they were again in the dock—Walwyk then said "I received all these mouthpieces, all the lot, from Ebblewhite"—Ebblewhite said "Yes, I gave them to him; I may as well tell the truth; I have received them from a lad named Ansell, who is employed by Mr. Posener, his uncle, a pipe manufacturer, in Mansel Street; he brought them to me from time to time to my shop, and I have got Walwyk to dispose of them for me; I am sorry that I have done so; I am old enough to know better"—that was all that was said in my hearing.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not make a note of what he said—I have given it as far as I remember—Davis was nearer to him than I was—he is most likely to be correct.
ROBERT WALTER KING . I am a tobacconist of 48, Leadenhall Street—Walwyk was in my employ for a week, ending the 15th March last—on 13th March he offered me 33l. 4 dozen of amber mounts—I gave him 14s. for them—I considered that a fair price—those were all sold before 10th July I saw Walwyk frequently between the time he left me on 15th March and 20th June; he offered me goods during that time two or three times a week, but I bought none—on 20th June he offered me six dozen amber screw mounts, at 7s. 6d. a dozen—I bought two dozen at 6s. 3d. a dozen—I have sold three or four single pieces of those—on the 27th I bought nine similar mounts for 7s. 6d.—I took receipts from him on all but two occasions—this (Produced) is the one for the 7s. 6d.—on 1st July I bought 3 1/2 dozen at 4s. 5d. a dozen, on 3rd, August a dozen amber mouthpieces for 2s., on.5th a
silver screw band for 9d., on 7th a meerschaum pipe and a cigar tube for 11s.—on the 9th Edlin brought me a note from Walwyk, and I gave him 6s. and took a receipt—on the 10th Walwyk came about 8 p.m. and said "Can't you do with a few amber mouthpieces," and he showed me a parcel which he said was eight dozen—he also said that Mr. Charreton had offered him 18s. for them—I said I did not particularly want them—he pressed me Very hard to purchase thorn, and I said I would give him 16s. cash, or 18s., part that night and part to-morrow night—he said he must go and make inquiries, as I understood either from the person he was selling them for or from Mr. Charreton, to see if he would purchase them—he returned in five or ten minutes and said "You can have them"—I asked what they Were to be, 16s. or 18s., he said 18s., part then and part next evening—he also produced two pipes which he said he had shown to my assistant Carter the previous night, which I had for 8s., that made 26s.—he received 10s. on account—I counted the mouthpieces and there was only seven dozen and 11—he said that I must have made a mistake in counting them—I did not count them again—he then left—I saw him in custody that same evening—I had spoken to the police some days before, either on the 1st or 2nd, and in all I did after that I acted entirely under their direction—the prices I gave Walwyk after 20th June were not fair prices, but perhaps from 30 or 40 to 50 per cent. under the usual price—I gave up to the police all the purchases I had left.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. When Walwyk first came it was after work, he said he was a silversmith—he did not say that he was selling things on commission—I don't think he used the word commission—I may have said so at the police-court—he said he was selling for another party—he always gave receipts when I asked for them, and he signed them in his own name—there was no concealment, he was always in a great hurry to get rid of the things.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN, I should be astonished to hear that what I gave him 4s. for were worth 9s.—I know Mr. Posener by reputation—my suspicions were aroused very soon after March—I had my doubts when I got the screw mounts at 4s. 6d. a dozen, on 1st July—I did not communicate with the police till after I had purchased those, but I did communicate with other people—I did not buy anything of him from March to June, because I did not feel quite satisfied as to whether he was the right owner of them; it was not because he asked too much or because the goods were not saleable—I may have told him so—I tried all sorts of excuses to keep him away from the shop.
Re-examined. On 1st July, when Walwyk left my shop, I followed him, and saw him speak to Ebblewhite a few doors from the shop, and then Walwyk came back and I purchased the goods.
JOHN CARTER . I am assistant to Mr. King, and was so in June and July last—I know Ansell and Walwyk—on 9th July, soon after 8 p.m., Ansell came to the shop and bought a cigar, and was talking to me—while doing so Walwyk came to the door and made signs to him not to speak; he put his finger on his lips and walked away—Ansell could not see him do it—he came back in about a minute and a half and came into the shop; he spoke to Ansell and shook hands with him, and took him by the arm and wanted him to go out—Ansell did not seem to care about going at first, but they did go out together—Walwyk came back in about five minutes, and produced
two meerschaum pipes and asked if I would buy them—these are them—I said I had not got the money—he said, "Buy them at your own price, and you need not say anything to Mr. King or any one else about it"—I said, "Leave them, and I will show them to Mr. King"—he did not leave them; he put them in his pocket—he said, Will you give me the money that Mr. King owes me?"—I said I had no authority to give it—I eventually gave him 1s. on account—he waited till 9 o'clock, when I closed the shop—he asked me to come and have a liquor—he pressed me very hard, and we went to the Sussex Head and had something for which he paid—while there he said, "The man that gets these goods gets them, but where from is no difference to me or you, is it?"—I said "No"—while in the shop he said, "If you don't like to have these goods I can always take them to Mr. Charretan, and he will buy them of me; he buys no end of stuff, but he cuts me down so in price that I don't care about let'ing him have them".
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. He did not say that he was selling on commission—I don't recollect saying so before the Magistrate—he produced the pipes while he was waiting for the money and said, "If you like you might make a little out of them".
FREDERICK CHARRETAN . I am a meerschaum pipe manufacturer, of 67, Leadenhall Street—I have known Walwyk about five or six months—I first made purchases from him about February, and continued to do so occasionally down to July—I purchased from him four dozen screw mounts about a week after the last Whitsuntide Bank Holiday—I gave him 7 s. a dozen—I considered that too dear.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. I gave Walwyk goods to sell for me for a few weeks at the end of last year—he was only in my employ a week; I had not enough for him to do—he told me he was selling goods on commission—I have trusted him with samples to sell, and also trusted him in my place with valuable goods to work on—I always knew him as a respectable, hard-working man.
EMANUEL ANSELL . I live at 65, Great Prescott Street, Minoxies—I was in the employ of Mr. Posener, my uncle, as errand boy for 12 months, up to July last—I am getting on for 15—I first knew Ebblewhite about seven months ago by going over to his father-in-law's to fetch water—about seven months ago he asked me to give him a pipe to smoke—I did not give it him till he asked me several times; I then gave him a briar pipe—I got it from Mr. Posener's warehouse—about a month afterwards he asked me to give him some ambers—I said "I can't get you any"—he said Oh, yes you can"—I did not give them to him—he said something about telling my uncle about the pipe if I did not give him any ambers—I then gave him 2 1/2 dozen—I got them from Mr. Posener's warehouse, about 10th March—he did not give me anything for them—after that he asked me for some pipes—I told him I could not get any—he said the same about telling my uncle—I then gave him three meerschaum pipes, that was about 15th March—I did not receive anything for those—about a fortnight afterwards I got him 13l. 4 dozen or 2 dozen screw mounts from Mr. Posener's warehouse—there was a threat then—he did not give me anything for them—the next was about 3rd April, I then got 3 dozen ambers and gave him; and about the middle of April 3 dozen mounts that did not screw, and about three days after that I got him 3 1/4 dozen ambers—I did not get him anything more till about the 2nd or 3rd June, I then got him about 3 1/4 dozen ambers—he used to
give me 1s. or 2s. now and then, but not for the articles, I mean not at the time I delivered them to him—he did not say why he gave it me—he did not owe me anything—I cannot fix the date when he first gave me any—about 15th June I gave him 4 dozen screw mounts, and about 23rd June 23l. 4 dozen mounts, not screws—on 28th June I gave him two meerschaum pipes—on 1st July one pipe and one cigar holder, and on 5th July three cigar holders—that was all I gave him—I got them all from Mr. Posener's warehouse—I had no authority from my uncle to take them, I took them unknown to him—I had seen Walwyk—I was at Mr. King's shop on a Wednesday, I don't exactly know the date, I was talking with Carter and smoking a cigar when Walwyk came in; at his request I went out of the shop with him—he then asked me if I had seen Ebblewhite—I said "Yes," and walked away—I had seen the prisoners together before that—I had spoken to Walwyk before—I gave all these articles to Ebble-white—he knew where I was employed; he was at his father's music-shop in Aldgate when I took the articles to him—I took them to the side door.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. I had known Walwyk about a month—all he said to me outside Mr. King's was "Have you seen Ebblewhite?"—I never gave Walwyk any goods, nor did Ebblewhite give me any money in Walwyk's presence—as far as I can say he knew nothing of this robbery—the first time I took the things' was in March last, long before I knew anything of Walwyk—he has never been present when I gave Ebblewhite the goods.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I am a distant connection of Ebble-white—I did not tell of this till after it was found out—I told my parents—it was after I took things that Ebblewhite gave me money—I did not ask him for it—I don't know where it came from—I had no idea what it was given for; I accepted it and asked no questions—I did not say at the police-court that it was for bringing the things—I don't know how much I received altogether—I was about twelve months with my uncle—I am not still in his service—I lived in Prescott Street, near the premises—I was never about the premises with my cousins—Mr. David Posener has a son, Mr. David was in partnership with my uncle—I never heard about a burglary at the premises—I could not swear that I was not engaged in that burglary, I don't recollect anything about it—I said at the police-court "I don't recollect ever breaking into my uncle's warehouse, I can't say whether I did or not, I never heard it said I did"—my mind is a perfect blank about the burglary, I don't remember anything about it—I don't remember whether I did it or not—I never set up business on my own account—I never told Ebblewhite that I sold goods—I never took anything from my uncle's on my own account that I did not give to Ebblewhite—I smoke, I always buy my own tobacco and pipes—I know a boy named Simmonds; he was at school with me—he has never been accused of burglary that I know.
Re-examined. I know what burglary means, breaking into a house in the night time—I did not break into my uncle's house in the night time that I can recollect—before I went into Mr. Posener's service I lived with my parents—this Mr. Posener has a very little son, not old enough to be my playmate—Mr. David Posener has a son that I used to play with. Adolph Posene R. I am a pipe manufacturer and importer of fancy goods in Mansel Street, Goodman's Fields—I did not know the prisoners till after the arrest—Anse 1 is my nephew—he has been in my employ about 12
months as errand boy—he had no authority to deal with any of my goods—to the best of my belief the goods produced belong to me—I cannot swear to them, as they have not my trade marks on them, but I handle them so often I may say they are my children; I see them every day, and am very familiar with their appearance—these mouthpieces are made specially for me at Birmingham by Mr. Gilliver—I supply him with the amber—they are primer primer quality—I have no doubt these all earns from my stock—they correspond in every respect—I never sell the screw mounts in this state, only fixed on pipes—the price of the seven dozen and 11 mounts is 39s., per gross wholesale and the eight dozen 26s. a dozen and the screw mounts 8s. 6d. a dozen—the price paid for them by Mr. King is very much under the price; in fact they could not be got at that honestly; it is 60 per cent under, or more in some instances.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLS. I have heard that Ebblewhite is married; I don't know it—I don't know his father; I have seen him once since this case—I employ travellers.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. About four or five years ago David Posener, my brother, was in partnership with me—I do not remember a burglary in my premises four or five years ago—I did not hear of it—my brother said nothing to me about it—I heard of a loss; I know nothing of it personally—I did not sign the charge sheet in this case because the prisoners were taken before I knew of it—the police communicated with me the day or the day after they were in custody—I gave Ansell 15s. a week, more than I should give a stranger, to encourage him to be honest and straightforward—I intended to promote him in the business.
The prisoners received good characters.
WALWYK— NOT GUILTY .
EBBLEWHITE— GUILTY .— Twelve Months Imprisonment.
There was another indictment against the prisoners, upon which no evidence was offered.
ELIZABETH HOLMES . I am a widow, at 24, Dudley Street, St. Martin's Lass, I had known prisoner about a fortnight prior to 21st June—I was at a house in Turner's Court, St. Martin's Lane, waiting on a friend who was ill, when someone knocked at the door twice—I went downstairs and saw the prisoner—he asked me to go and have something to drink and I refused, and went to go down the court away from him—he followed and asked me again, and on my refusing he struck me in the forehead—I put my hand up to save my face and he plunged a knife in my side—I saw the knife in his hand, but did not see it before the blow—I staggered and screamed, and a person ran to my assistance and I was conveyed to the hospital—I saw the policeman come up—I was in the hospital a fortnight, attended by the surgeon—the prisoner saw me the previous day, the 20th, and said "I have been to your father, and he refuses to let me work there"—my father is a boot and shoe maker,
the prisoner is the same trade—he said "I will do for your father, and if I don't do for your father I will do for you"—he was intoxicated, but not so drunk as on Saturday, when he stabbed me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You gave me no reason before to think you had any ill-feeling towards me—we drank frequently together during the week—my father told you you should never marry me.
Re-examined. We had not lived together—he wanted to marry me and my father told him he should not do so because I had only known him three or four weeks.
MARY ANN WORTHY . I am wife of William Worthy of 2, Turner's Court—I heard a woman scream as I stood at the street door, on Saturday, 21st June, and ran down and saw the prosecutrix standing up against the wall bleeding from the right side—she said the prisoner had stabbed her—I saw this knife (produced) in his hand—I did not notice if there was blood upon it—I helped to take her to the hospital.
Cross-examined. She had hold of you by the collar till the policeman came—I was not there when you struck her.
GEORGE HOFFMEYER . On Saturday afternoon, 21st June, I heard a scream in Turner's Court, and went to the place and saw the prosecutrix and Wilson quarrelling and struggling together, one standing on one side the Court and one on the other—I did not go up to them—tehe prosecutrix pulled him out of the Court and then I saw blood oozing from her right side, and I saw Wilson put this knife in his pocket—he was immediately taken in custody.
Cross-examined. I did not see you strike her.
DANIEL REDMAN (Policeman E 159). On Saturday afternoon, 21st June, I heard screams in St. Martin's Lane and saw a crowd—on going up I saw the prosecutrix holding Wilson's hands and struggling with him—she said "Oh! policeman, I am stabbed"—I said "Who has done it?"—she said "This man"(meaning the prisoner)—she said "He has got a knife"—I saw blood oozing from her right side and running down over her dress—the last witness then said "He has put the knife into that pocket," pointing to his left hand trousers pocket—I put my hand in that pocket and took out this' shoemaker's knife (produced)—I took him in custody—on the way to the station he said "You don't know what she has done to me," and after walking a short distance he became very violent and said "You have got the knife; it's a good job you have, but I can use my fists on you"—I procured assistance and took him to the station, and while the charge was being taken he said "Yes, I wish I had settled her"—he was drunk and appeared to have been drinking several days, but apparently knew what he was about and could walk very well without assistance—he struggled violently.
Cross-examined. You did not resist when I went to take the knife from you.
EDWARD PATERSON . I am house-surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought in on Saturday afternoon, 21st June, and 1 attended her—I found an incised wound between the ninth and tenth ribs on the right side, about three inches from the middle line of the back, and directed outwards and downwards about 1 1/2 inches long and nearly an inch deep—she appeared to have lost a great deal of blood and was very much collapsed when brought in—she was kept in the hospital a fortnight—the wound was
inflicted through her clothes, and in my opinion could have been produced by this knife—the blade is not much more than an inch long—a great deal of violence must have been used—I did not examine her clothes—it was a dangerous wound—it is completely healed, but she still suffers from some weakness in that side—I do not think that will continue.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he teas drunk and had no knowledge of the occurrence or of what he said on the way to the station, er when he got there and that he had no intention of doing the deed.
GUILTY** of unlawfully wounding.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. SPACEMAN Prosecuted.
GEORGE LINNET (Policeman K 259). I was on duty in Albert Street, Shad well, on the morning of 16th July, a little after 4, and saw Clinton coming out of No. 11 with a bundle and a pair of boots—I said, "What have you got there?"—he said, "I have got an overcoat"—I said, "Let me look at it," and took the bundle from him, and saw it was a lady's waterproof cloak—I said, "How did you come by it?"—he said, "A man came to me at Silvertown, and asked me to change coats, which I did; I didn't know but what it was an overcoat till I got into London"—I then saw these boots, and said, "How came you in possession of the boots?"—he said, "I bought them"—I said, "Where?"—he said, "At a bootmaker's"—I was not satisfied with his statement, and took him to the station, where two knives were found upon him—I said, "Where is the boot shop?"—he said, "I don't know."
MARY JANE HANSON . I live at 3, Harris Terrace, St. George's-in-the-East—this is my cloak, value 26s.—it was hanging on a peg in the hall passage on the night of 15th July between 11 and 12, and I missed it next morning between 7 and 8—I was not up hrst—my husband fastened the doors the night before.
RICHARD HONISETT (Policeman K 6). On the morning of 16th July I went to examine the last witness's house—I found no fastening to the shutters, the window-sash loose, and the window would separate so that one could put anything between without leaving marks—the window-catch in the centre was unfastened, and was pointed out to me just as it was found.—the passage door, which fastened with a chain, was open—Albert Street is 300 or 400 yards from Harris Terrace.
HENRY LEWIS HANSON . I am a shipping agent at 3, Harris Terrace—on 15th July, between 11 and 12 p.m., I closed and fastened my door with the bolt and chain, and saw my wife's waterproof safe—the ground-floor window and shutters were closed, but I could not say whether the window was latched—there is a catch, but no fastening inside.
MARY THOMAS . I live at 11, Albert Street, Shadwell—a little before 4 a.m. on 16th July, while standing at my door, I saw the prisoner with a bundle in his arms—he offered to sell me this cloak—I said, "Take it away," and refused to buy it—he had other things in the bundle—I told him I did not want it, and to go out of the place—I next saw him talking to the policeman, but did not know he was in custody till I was subpœnaed.
The prisoner in his defence Mated that he had been drinking at Silvertown with some of his shipnates, and while under the influence of drink had exchanged a coat for the cloak, with a man he did not know, and thought it was a coat.
GUILTY of receiving.— Nine Months Imprisonment.
FOURTH COURT.—Monday, August 11th, 1878.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. D. METCALFE appeared for Goddard, and MR. PURCELL for Young.
JAMES CHESHIRE . I am clerk to Coombe and Co., brewers, owners of the Golden Cross, Long Acre—W. C. Smith was the tenant, and on 15th May the two prisoners took possession as joint tenants—notice of transfer was given in favour of Young in the first instance—the prisoners acted as the tenants up to the time they were taken in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. D. METCALFE. I do not know the exact money each invested for taking the house; it was proposed that Young should be our tenant, but as he was finding only a portion of the money we accepted them as our joint tenants—I was there when 90l. was handed to the broker, but do not recollect whether Goddard handed it to him.
GEORGE CRUSE (Police Inspector E). I have charge of the transfers of public-houses in the Strand district, and had a notice of this transfer of the Golden Cross served on me, dated July 14th, from William Charles Smith to Samuel Goddard, but no notice of the transfer to both—on the next Saturday I went to the Golden Cross, and saw Goddard behind the bar—I asked him if he was Mr. Goddard—he said "Yes"—I said that I was inspector for the district, and asked him if ever he kept another public-house—he said "Yes, five years back"—I said that I should want references, and he gave me the names of two persons—I did not know that he had come out of the House of Correction in March.
MARK BENNETT . I keep the John Bull, Tower Street, Lambeth—in eonsequence of an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, a young man appeared before me who gave the name of Thomas Phillips—I made this memorandum of my conversation with him, and went to the Golden Cross, Long Acre, about 4 p.m.; Young was behind the bar, and I said to him Has there been a young man living here of the name of Phillips?—he said "Yes, there was one"—I said "Is Mr. Young in?"—he said "Yes, I will go and call him"—he went into another room, and came back with Goddard—I said to Goddard Good afternoon, Mr. Young"—he said "Good afternoon"—I asked him if a young man named Thomas Phillips had lived there, and if he could gave him a seven months' character—he said "Yes, I can give him a good character; he can get up and open the house at 5 a.m., and I trusted him with money"—I told him that Phillips said he had left for no reason, only that his brother-in-law was out of a situation—Goddard
pointed towards Young, and said either "my brothe" or "brother-in-law"—the name of Smith was over the door, and I said "What is the reason you have not your name over the door?"—he said "No one has interferred with me, and Smith's name is so well known I have not altered it"—I then left—Young could not help hearing what Goddard said; he was only seven or eight feet off—Phillips called on me on the 26th, but I did not engage him.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I may have told him that the character was not sufficient—I did not like the same not being over the door—I am sure seven months was mentioned; it was not seven weeks—Goddard did not tell me that he had received a good character of Phillips from the outgoing tenant, but he did say that Phillips was there when he took the house—he did not say "I will give you the character I had with him."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have been in the business about 10 years—my name was not on the door of the John Bull two months ago, but the name of W. Whiffen, because the licence was not transferred.
Re-examined. Looking at my memorandum the time stated was seven months, not seven weeks—I spoke to Young, and he called Goddard forward as Young—my name was put over my door a few days after the transfer—the change was on 9th July, I think—that was the day of the Special Session—the brokers were there, and the money was paid on the 11th.
HENRY RISBOROUGH SHARMAN . I am a barrister, and am Secretary of the Licensed Victuallers' Protection Society—Young came to me in July; I had a great many people waiting to see me, and I said "Ton are not a member of the society; what is your business?"—he said "I have come to give you information about false characters being given in order to get situations as barmen"—I asked him who was doing it; he said Goddard, of the Golden Gross, Long Acre, who was partner with him, and was using his name, and he was afraid his reputation would be damaged, and he should lose the money he had put into the house in consequence of the way Goddard was going on—I dictated this statement to a short-hand writer, but afterwards altered it, and read it over to Young. (This was addressed to Mr. Maitland, suggesting that a barman should be got to answer some advertisement in thai or the next day's papers.) I put that in an envelope and sent Young with it to Mr. Maitland.
EDWARD MAITLAND . I am solicitor to the Licensed Victuallers' Protection Society—Young left this letter with me on 7th July, and I appointed the 8th, when we had a conversation, and I took these notes—he said that he had taken a public-house, in partnership with Samuel Goddard, who was giving characters to barmen in his name, and he was afraid he should he compromised; that he had known Goddard some time, but had not known of his proceedings till quite recently; that the information was given him by some woman who frequented the bar—he mentioned the Bull's Heard or the John Bull, in Lambeth—I referred to the Directory, and found that it was kept by Whiffen—he also mentioned another house, and said that the name of the person who had the character for that house was Stephens or Phillips, but he had not been engaged—he also said that a woman named Lane was either going to have a character given her or had had it, and she was the wife of a man who had been in prison for giving a false character—that was a fact—he said he had found out that Goddard had just come out of prison for having issued counterfeit coin; that he had been in the house
about six weeks, and the licence would be transferred to him (Young); that they had not kept any barman; that they had paid 10s., but whether he or Goddard found it he did not know—I obtained process against Goddard, and on the next day against Young—Mr. Bennett and I went to the house and asked for Mr. Goddard—Young came downstairs, and we spoke to him with reference to his attending the trial the following day to give evidence; he promised to attend, and when we left Mr. Bennett made a communication to me, and I applied for a warrant immediately—Young said that he was not present when the character was given; it was during his rest hours—Whiffen was the previous tenant of the John Bull, and that name had not been altered.
GEORGE WALTON (Policeman 157). On 17th July, about 5.45, I went to the Golden Cross, and read this warrant to Goddard—he said that he knew nothing about it—I took him to the station, and found on him 16l. 4s. 4d. and some keys—next morning I took Young at Bow Street—he said "I know nothing about it; you must have made a mistake"—I took him to the station, and 1l. 8s. 8d. was found on him.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Young was standing at the door of a public-house—it is the practice of persons waiting at Bow Street to wait at public-houses.
GODDARD— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
YOUNG— NOT GUILTY .
MR. D. METCALFE Prosecuted; and MR. GILLESPIE Defended.
WILLIAM CONOLLY . I am a tiresmith, of 21, Wharfdale Road, Islington—on 28th June, about 8 p.m., I left my house perfectly safe—there is a stair-case window not more than 8 feet from the ground, which I found open when I returned at 11 o'clock—when I opened the hall door the gaslight shone in from a public-house opposite, and as soon as I put the key in I found marks of a crowbar—I went into the kitchen and lit the gas, and then came up and found several matches on the floor, which had been lighted and a match box, which was not there when I went out—there were footmarks on the window sill and on the carpets—I missed nothing.
Cross-examined. There is only 6 feet from the street to the lower part of the window—I said at a guess that it is 20 feet from the yard, but I find it is not—the public-house opposite is lighted up and there is one street lamp.
JOHN OTWAY (Police Sergeant 7). On 28th June, I was on duty in Wharfdale Road, five or ten minutes before 9, and saw the prisoners loitering about in a very suspicious manner—I watched them—Pearce knocked at the door of No. 21, which is a corner house, no one answered, and he went to the other two, who were standing at the corner of the street—they conversed a short time and all went into the doorway—Stannard seemed tampering with the lock of the door while the others covered him—they were there five minutes; they then went to the corner and conversed and Pearce went away, but came back and joined them and they all went into the doorway of No. 21—a baker and another man came up and disturbed them, and they went into the New Wharf Road and
stood in a doorway there for 20 minutes—they then went and tried the door again, and Fitzgerald watched at the public-house opposite—Stannard then went round into New North Street and jumped the side wall of No. 21 and appeared at the side door, which was opened from the inside—it had just turned 10 o'clock—I heard a whistle and saw two lighted matches thrown out at the door into the street—Fitzgerald went up to Pearce, who was standing about 20 yards off—I told two policeman who were passing—I then saw Stannard leave the door of No. 21, closing it after him; we surrounded them and I took Stannard—he was very violent and tried to get away several times, and I bad to throw him to the ground—I took him to the station and then examined the premises, and found several burnt matches strewn about the place, and a box of matches on a sideboard—there were marks on one side and an indentation as if it had been attempted to be forced by a jemmy.
Cross-examined. Stannard complained that I was hurting him, and that something was the matter with his throat—I had him by the neck—I told him to keep quiet and I would release him.
Cross-examined. Jemmies are usually the same size.
Cross-examined. Jemmies vary in size.
GUILTY **. They all Pleaded Guilty to previous convictions at Westminster; Stannard in May, 1878; Pearce in August, 1878, and Fitzgerald in June, 1877. STANNARD and PEARCE— Two Years' Imprisonment.
FITZ-GERALD— Seven Years' Penal Servitud. (There were seven convictions against Fitzgerald.)
MR. SPACEMAN Prosecuted.
WILLIAM ROWLEY . I am a lighterman, of 8, Chadwin Street, Bromley—on 19th July, about 1 or 1.30 a.m., I met the prisoner and two other women on Tower Hill—the prisoner cuddled round my waist, I told her to get away as I had a wife and two children—she asked me to give her enough for a night's lodging, as she had not sufficient—I gave her 2d. or 2 1/2 d., and she dived into my pocket, tore the seam, and took out a florin—I then struck her.
Cross-examined. by the Prisoner. I did not kick you on your month—you never were off your feet—I said that unless you returned the money I would strike you, and I hit you with my back hand—you did not halloa "Police" and "Murder" till after I hit you.
ARTHUR WHITE (Policeman H 155). On 19th July I was on duty on Tower Hill and heard cries of "Murder," and the prisoner wanted to give Rowley in charge for hitting her in the face—he said that she had taken 2s. out of his pocket—I took them both to the station—I saw her searched—a florin was found in her mouth.
Cross-examined. Your cheek was bleeding a little—you were not dirty as if you had fallen down.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I met the man. He said, 'You took 2s. from me.' I said, 'I have not' He kicked me, got me by the back of the neck, and threw me down and kicked me in the face, I got up, and screamed 'Murder' and 'Police,' and gave him in charge for kicking me. At the station he said he had lost 2s. He did not say it before that."
PLEADED GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
725. ALFRED KNIGHT (14) and ANTHONY SCARLISLE (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Josiah Chesterman, and stealing therein 6 dozen tape measures, 156 postage labels, and other articles, his property, Scarlisle having been before convicted.
SCAB-LISLE PLEADED GUILTY .**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. D. METCALFE Prosecuted.
JOSIAH CHESTERMAN . I am a gas engineer, of Eyre Street Hill—I do not live on the premises, I leave them to Bolton's care—on 8th July I left the shop safe, leaving a white-handled pocket knife on my desk—I found my desk broken open next morning, and missed property to the amount of 13l. and the knife—this is it (produced).
JOHN ROBINSON (Detective G). On 11th July I went to a lodging-house in Clerkenwell and saw Knight—I asked him if this belt belonged to him—he said, "No, I never saw it before in my life"—I told him I should take him for committing burglary—on the way to the station ha said, "It is no good telling a lie; it was mine, and I sold it to a chap named Anthony—that is Scarlisle—he said at the station that he bought the knife of Scarlisle.
Cross-examined by Knight. I asked you when you sold the belt to Scarlisle—you said you did not know whether it was last night or the night before.
Knights Defence. He so stunned me that I did not know what I was saying. I have a witness to show when I exchanged the belt Richard Corner Knight lodged in the same house as I did—I am a witness that he sold the belt, and the same morning he bought the knife of the other boy for 3d.—I saw both transactions.
Cross-examined. It is about six weeks ago that he sold the belt, and he bought the knife on the morning that he was taken.
KNIGHT— NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. WILLS Defended M'Nolly.
EDWIN GASTER . I live at 20, Manor Street, Rateliff, and am superinten. dent of the Trinity Ballast Department—I missed a ballast winch from the store in October last, which I had seen safe in September—it belonged to the Trinity Corporation, and was marked "HT"—Maddigan was engaged
in the ballast trade—I made inquiries, and charged him on 5th July with stealing the winch—he said that he bought it of M'Nally. (Maddigan here handed in a letter, stating that his witnesses had gone on a voyage, and requesting the postponement of his earn to the next Session, and upon his undertaking not to take any advantage of the fact, the Jury were discharged from giving a verdict as to him, and his ease was postponed.)
Cross-examined. M'Nally has been 16 years in the service of the Trinity Corporation off and on—I never heard of a man lending another a winch. Mary Cavanagh. I live at the cornet of John Street, St. George's—Maddigan lodged in my house—M'Nally came there to him three times, and the third time he said he had a b——winch to sell for 15s.; that was nine and a half months ago—Maddigan said that he had no money till next week, and then M'N ally came the third time, and that conversation took place—I never saw the winch.
Cross-examined. I was asked if I saw anybody come after Maddigan—I said "A young man from the Trinity with brass buttons came after him about a winch"—Maddigan's wife came afterwards and asked me if I saw anybody come to the door, and I told her—I saw no money paid—I was never in trouble in my life—I was never at Maidstone or Clerkenwell—I was never convicted.
By the COURT. If I appeared at the bar of a Court of Justice and was charged, that has nothing to do with this—I gave some tickets to my relations a good many years ago.
WILLIAM SIDWELL . I am a blacksmith, of Charles Street, Stepney—Maddigan brought me a winch to repair bearing the letters E. T. C. in October last—he was alone, but he afterwards brought a man with him who I do not see here—I told him that the police had the winch.
WILLIAM HORLOCK (Thames Police Sergeant). On 14th November I went to Sidwell's shop, and found a winch—the irons were taken out, and the initials turned out of sight, but there were initials at the bottom.
JOHN RAGAN (Thames Police Sergeant). I took M'Nally on July 4th, and told him ha would be charged with stealing a winch about October last—he said "I lent the scoundrel the winch some time ago thinking he would return it again, and I never saw it again"—M'Nally is in the service of the Corporation; he wore buttons.
Cross-examined. He said that he bought the winch at the London Docks of two men, M'Nally was one; he paid him 5s., and was to pay 5s. more. M'Nauft Statement before the Magistrate. "Maddigan's account is untrue. I am not guilty. I lent a winch to him, as he made a plausible tale, on condition that he would return it."
M'Nally received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. S. WHITE Prosecuted.
GIUSEPPE SOPHANI (Interpreted). I am a wine and French provision merchant at 23, Gerrard Street, Soho—on 18th July, about 11 p.m., I saw a light downstairs, and called a policeman; two came—I saw the prisoners there, and gave them in charge—I saw two bottles of wine and three sausages, value about 25s., ready to take away.
B. JERVANI. I am in Mr. Sophani's employ; I left Gerrard Street at 7.20, having shut the windows and doors, and taken the keys to the governor—I heard of this affair about 11.30 or 12 o'clock, and was taken downstairs, and saw three bottles of wine, three sausages, and a candle which were not there when I left—the last witness is the foreman, and lives in the house.
GEORGE HENRY BAKER (Policeman 313). I was called to the house, and on going downstairs found Hollis coming up—I asked him what he was doing—he said he was looking for his master—on searching further I found McEwan lying on his side on the floor pretending to be asleep—I asked him what he was doing—he made no reply.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, August 12th, 1879.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
THOMAS SIMS . I am a sailor, at the Sailors' Home, Whitechapel—about 10 p.m. on Saturday, 2nd August, I was accosted by two women in Ellesmere Lane—they followed me to Back Church Lane, when the prisoner joined them and the two women caught hold of me and the prisoner knocked me down and rifled my pockets—I had 4l. in gold and some silver—they all assisted and turned my trousers pocket inside out and tore it down, and the prisoner kicked me in the eye and said Take that for your change"—I could not see for the first three days after, and both eyes were blackened—I gave information, and the prisoner was brought to me and I indentified him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I might have said at the police-court that you kicked me in the eye or on the nose—I said the same as to-day.
WILLIAM CUFF (Policeman H 26). At 10 p.m. on 2nd August I saw the prosecutor in Back Church Lane bleeding very much from the face, and in consequence of what he said I went down the street and saw the prisoner and another man walking away as fast as they could—I caught the prisoner and took him back to the prosecutor, who identified him immediately—he was formally charged with an assault on the prosecutor with intent to rob—he said in reply "I kicked him, but I did not intend to rob him."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not say you did it in selfdefence—you were sober—no money was found on you. The Prisoners' Statement before the Magistrate. "I own I struck him with my fist, as he struck me, but without intention to rob him."
Prisoner's Defence. I admitted striking him in self-defence, but not of attempting to rob.
GUILTY **— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
FRANK FOX (Policeman T 385). While on duty in King's Road, Chelsea, about 1.15 a.m. on Sunday, 13th July, I heard a woman cry, "Oh, John, you have stabbed me"—I crossed the road and saw the prisoner leaving Bridget Woods—I stopped him and she came up and said "I shall charge him for stabbing me"—I took them to the station—she was bleeding from the left side of the neck, and I sent for a surgeon.
Cross-examined. I and the sergeant searched for a knife, but found none—the woman was very faint on the way to the station and the inspector gave her some water—she made no statement about a knife. Bridget Woods. I am the prisoner's wife, and reside at 4, Sutherland Road, Fulham—on Sunday morning, July 13, I was in King's Road—I was not with my husband—I went away that evening from him and went home to my father's—the prisoner has been a good husband, but has kept his money lately—I and another woman met him on my way home—he came up to me and said "This is your beat, isn't it?"—I said "Yes, you know I am obliged to run away from you"—he was very drunk—then he struck me in the left side of the neck behind the ear with a small blackhandled knife—I saw a constable on the other side and I went to him and told him, and he took him in charge—I went to the police-station and my wound was dressed by the doctor.
Cross-examined. I did once cut my husband's head open with a chair when he came home in drink to beat me—I did not on another occasion cut his head open with a stone—I only struck him once—I did not say before the Magistrates "I cut his head open with a chair and also with a stone"—I said "There was not a man in my company when this happened"—there was only a woman with me—we have had many quarrels, but never fought, but about three months ago I struck him with the chair because he came home drunk and pulled me off the bed—I did not say "We have often fought"—I do not know William Bradshaw—I do not know any men who work near where this happened—the prisoner has been a good husband to me till the last few weeks—I have been absent from my home and slept away from him for two nights, and have left him and gone to my parents—I do not remember if I said at the police-court that he said "Is this your beat?" but he said that—he said "What brought you here!"—it was past 1 o'clock in the morning—the children were in bed at home—Mrs. Nolan was with me and saw him strike the blow, but she has said she was not there—I was not in company with the man Bradshaw that night—I heard Mrs. Nolan say at the police-court that she met me with Bradshaw, but she said very wrong—she came to my house that night—I did not say so at the police-court, she said so—it was Saturday night—I will swear I was not locked in my room with Bradshaw—I heard Mrs. Nolan say at the police-court "I went to Mrs. Woods' room and was refused admittance; that was a quarter past 12 o'clock; Bradshaw was there," but it is untrue—I was with two or three women drinking in public-houses at Sands End, where I am living, on that Saturday night at 10.30—I had not got my potato knife with me—I heard Dr. Godrich give his evidence at the police-court, but was so upset I could not understand what he said—I have not been trying to get rid of my husband for the purpose of living with Bradshaw—I left my husband's home about 10.40 on the Saturday night, and was with him before I went away—that is at Sands End—I live about half an hour's
walk from my parents—I did not go to them that night before 10.40—I went to the public-houses before I went to my father's and the prisoner was with me and left me at 10.40—I then went back to my father's—I then met Mrs. Nolan and went over Stamford Bridge to the World's End public-house, near Cremorne Gardens, and we stayed there drinking till closing time—I did not see Bradshaw—I used my potato-knife the Sunday before, my husband had it with him then, and I never saw it since—it was kept for peeling potatoes till it disappeared suddenly, and the next time I saw it was when he stabbed me—I was not drunk—I had not been in public-houses before 10 o'clock.
BRIDGET WOODS (Re-examined). I did not have the knife in my possession on the morning of the 13th—I went away because he kept his money the last 14 or 15 weeks, and gave me nothing to support my children—he came home that evening and would not give me money—he is a dangerous man in drink—I had a quarrel with him and went home to my parents.
MARY NOLAN (Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH). Bridget Woods and a man named Bradshaw were together between Stamford Bridge and Cremorne on this Saturday night, and he said good night to me—she and the prisoner and the children live in the Grove Road—she was there on this night in her room with Bradshaw—I went there and Bradshaw came to the door and said "Is that you, Mrs. Nolan?"—I said "Yes"—he said "You can't come in to-night, then," and I said "Very well"—I have seen them together three times—I do not know that she was neglecting her home and going about the streets and drinking in public-houses—I have seen her in public-houses when she ought to be at home attending to her children—the prisoner was not near when Bradshaw said good-night to me.
By MR. WHITE. Bradshaw was at the prisoner's house that night upstairs, and when I knocked he came down and opened the street door and said "You can't come in to-night"—my two little boys were upstairs in the same room with them, and I said "I shall have my children out," and he opened the door and let them out—I saw Mrs. Woods and him together—they both came down, and she abused and blackguarded me, and I said "I will have my two children out."
ALFRED GODRICH , M.R.C.S. I examined Mrs. Woods on the 13th—there was an incised wound about 1/8 inch in depth and 1 inch long behind and below the ear—it was very near a dangerous part, and if deeper would have severed the jugular vein and the carotid artery, which would have been almost fatal—the wound was not bleeding and I do not think she had lost much blood—I dressed it and have no doubt it was well in a few days—I have not examined it since—a small knife would have caused it.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court that if the wound was self inflicted it was in the very spot—it had not the least character of a stab, but was long and very shallow, and was exactly the sort of an injury I should expect to find if a person had wanted to inflict a wound upon herself without risking life.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.
The Jury recommended the prisoner to mercy on the ground of great provocation.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
731. HENRY LAKEMAN (31) PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing a purse and 2s. l/12d. from the person of Martha Miskin, after a conviction at Kingston-upon-Thame in October, 1871.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude And
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.
ROBERT READY . I am assistant to George Lynes, a clothier of High Street, Stratford—on 15th July, about 6 p.m., I was called into the shop and saw the prisoner there—I saw a bulk under her shawl; she said Please show me some trousers to fit a boy about six years old"—I showed her several pairs, but nothing would suit her—she said that she would call again, and was going towards the door; I put my arm before her and said "Did you come in with the intention of buying a pair of trousers?"—she said "Yes"—she came back from the door to look at a coat and dropped these trousers from under her shawl folded in half—I had not sold them to her—I said "You see what you have dropped there"—she said" Do let me go, I have got six dear children at home—I sent for a constable and then found—she had dropped three pair of trousers and a pair of knickerbockers, value 25*., which I missed from the counter.
Cross-examined by five Prisoner. I did not take the knickerbockers off a chair by the door and put them on the heap—You pulled out a purse after I accused you and said that you had got money and would pay me, but I did not see any money and you had bought nothing.
ALBERT GODFREY (Policeman K 510). I was called and told the prisoner the charge—she said "I did take them, Sir; he promised not to lock me up, do let me go; I have six little children at home"—she pulled out her puree and said "Here, let me pay you for them and let me go"—I took her to the station, 6s. and some coppers were found in her purse.
Cross-examined. The trousers were not lying on the table when I came in, they were lying under the window—the counter is about 6 yards from the window.
Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty of it, my husband has run away from me, and I work hard to keep my children.
GUILTY . She was further charged with a conviction at Clerkenwell in. December, 1876, to which she
PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitued. ,
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.
JESSE WREN . I am a labourer, and live at 6, Charles Terrace, Plaistow, with the prosecutor—I am married, and occupy the front room—Pollock, who is a single man, occupied the next room—I came home about 11 p.m. on Saturday, 12th July, and a friend of Pollock's was looking for him—he was not making a noise, but was in my room, and I turned him out—Pollock was drunk, and lying on his back on his bed—I stood by the street-door, and heard Clark cry, "Oh, murder! Jesse, he has hit me with a
stone"—I said "Who?" and I went in and saw Pollock in the passage on the top of Clark hitting him on the head with the curved part of the back of a chair—with assistance I pulled him off, and he ran upstairs, and I did not see him again till the police had him—Clark lay quiet, and did not speak—he seemed to have no use in his limbs—we were about to wash his head when the police came—we lifted him up, and he came round—he was not sober; we had been drinking together with Pollock's friend—on the way to the station a lot of people followed, and I was struck, and the piece of the chair was snatched from me—I am not aware of any provocation given by Clark, and did not see them quarrel that night.
By the COURT. I have heard them falling out on other occasions, and I have asked what was the matter, and they have said they had been having a bit of a row.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. My lamp was burning on the landing—I did not hear him ask for a light—there was no fight at all—the piece of glass did not fall out of Clark's spectacles outside the door; I found it on the Sunday morning in the passage covered with blood where he had been lying—his head bled very much—nobody bound it up till he got to the station—you did not go upstairs, and he did not try to break the door open—I took the chair-back from you, and Beaman helped me.
NOAH CLARK . I live at 6, Charles Terrace, Plaistow, and am 62 years old—Pollock lodged in my house—I had had my tea with him in the afternoon—I came home quite sober about 10.45 p.m. on Saturday, 12th July, and did not see Pollock till he came downstairs, and stood about three steps above me and struck me twice on the head—I said "Oh, my God I he has struck me with a stone"—he struck me again, and I felt nothing after—my glasses came off, and I could not see what he struck me with—I was stunned, and do not remember Jesse Wren coming to my assistance—after recovering consciousness I remember being taken by two officers to the station, where my head was dressed—I think it is getting on well, but owing to my attendance here I have not been able to get to the hospital.
By the COURT. We were perfectly good friends, and he asked me about 6.45 if I would go a walk with him as far as the Turk's Head, and I said "No"—we had not quarrelled previously or had high words.
Cross-examined. We had not had a bother that night, and I know nothing about the windows being smashed next door by a woman, that was before I came home—I could not see any blood on the chair; I was blind when you knocked the glasses out of my spectacles—I can see to mend boots with my glasses on—I was a boiler maker and my eyes were injured in my business—I am perfectly blind in one eye and the other has no sight without my glasses—I was excited at the police-court and said, "I will make it. hot for you."
THOMAS BEAMAN . I am a labourer, and live at 8, Charles Street, Plaistow Marshes—I was passing Clark's door about 11 p.m., on 12th July, and heard him cry out "Murder!"—I went inside and saw Pollock kneeling on him and striking him with the back of a chair—Clark cried, "Oh, my God," and I caught hold of Pollock by the throat and threw him off, and with Wren's assistance took the back of the chair from him, and then we picked Clark up insensible and bleeding from the head—there was no blood on Pollock—I believe he had had some drink.
Cross-examined. Clark was on the ground with his head towards the front door and his legs towards the back, you were on top in the same direction
striking him with the back of a chair—there was blood and hair on the back of the chair—the constables who searched the place when you got out of the window saw it.
ALFRED DOYLE (Policeman K 303). About 12 at night on Saturday, 12th July, from information received, I apprehended Pollock at the corner of Arkwright Street, and charged him with violently assaulting Noah Clark—he said, "All right, I can go with you, I didn't do it"—he had been drinking, but was not drunk—I took him back to Clark's house—Clark was bleeding from two wounds in the head, and charged Pollock with assaulting him—he made no reply—in Pollock's hearing I asked for the back of the chair—Wren produced it—I turned the light of the bull's-eye upon it and saw blood and hair on it—I told Wren to bring it to the station, but it was taken from him on the way.
Cross-examined. Two other constables had been to find you, but you escaped through the window—Clark was in the house and came to the door—he did not take the chair out of Wren's hand—I was close by it when I examined it—there was no rain upon it, it was a beautiful fine night and no rain.
HENRY JAMES LAVIS , M. R.C. S. I am assistant to Dr. Kennedy, of Balham Street, Plaistow—I was called to the police-station on Saturday night, or early on Sunday morning, 12th July, and found Clark suffering from two semi-lacerated wounds on the left side of the head above the ear, with jagged edges and swelling and one or two other bruises—the wounds could be produced by a semi-blunt instrument as a piece of wood coming to a point—that would account for the tumefaction—with a sharp instrument it would have been a clean cut—I dressed, it and advised him to become a patient of the hospital—the wouuds were dangerous, as there is great liability to erysipelas in all scalp wounds in people of advanced years who drink—the caudal covering of the bone was not penetrated—I have not examined his head since, I should think by this time it is healed—he was semi-conscious from the effects of the blow—I did not notice the state of his eyes—it was not produced by a knife edge—the wounds might probably be caused by the sharp edge of the woodwork of the bannisters or by a projecting Wall.
Re-examined. There were two distinct wounds on the bead in the same direction, like repetitions of a blow.
Prisoner's Defence. We had been fighting—Clark went upstairs and burst, open the door, and I took the back of the chair down to show him what he had broken; and he called out "Jesse, get a light," and rushed at me to butt me in the stomach, and struck his head against the bannisters or against a sharp wall; and the glass was knocked out of his spectacles in the street.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Twelve Months' Imjnrisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILLS Prosecuted; and MR. AUSTIN METCALFE Defended.
tome friends, and was on my way home when the prisoner crossed the road and asked me if I would assist him as he was out of work and had had nothing to eat for three days—I asked him if that was true—he said it was, calling God to witness—I turned back with him to the Bakers' Arms and took 6d. out of my purse and gave him to get what he required—he went in and got a pint of beer and a biscuit, and poured some of the beer out into a glass and I took some; gave him another 6d. and wished him good night, and thought he was gone, but he followed me to the corner of Boundary Road and gave me a violent push and snatched the purse out of my hand—I fell down and shouted "Police, stop thief," and a policeman came—the purse contained 17s. 6d.—I saw the purse afterwards at the station and identified the prisoner—I was taken in custody.
Cross-examined. I was charged on the Monday morning with being drunk and incapable, but was dismissed—I was not drunk—I could speak plainly and remember everything—I was not leaning against the railings when I first saw the prisoner, and he was not asking the way—I will swear I did not give him my purse—I had got up again when the Solice came, and as I ran towards them I fell down again—I was not runk—I signed this paper and received 10s. from the prisoner's father, and said I would not go on the Saturday morning if I were not compelled.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. B. KELLY Prosecuted; and MR. MORICE Defended.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.
GEORGE PEARSON . I am a grocer—in September last the prisoner brought me this prospectus of J. C. Morrisson and Co.'s Debt Recovery and Mercantile Office, for which he said he was agent, and asked if he could collect any debts for me—I said that I had none then—he made five or six weekly calls afterwards, and believing him to be an agent of the Globe Society, I gave him this written authority to collect debts from Mr. Biggs and Mrs. White, and said, "I have your prospectus;" he said, "Yes, you have"—I have not received any money which he has collected from Mr. Biggs or Mrs. White—after some time I made inquiries and could not find the prisoner—he then called and said that Mr. Biggs would pay in two instalments, and Mrs. White 10s. monthly.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You called weekly as the agent of the Globe Debt Recovery Office—I have known J. C. Morrisson and Co., 15 or 20 years, through friends and advertisements, and my reason for giving you the account was that I knew that their office was in existence—I do not dispute giving you authority in both cases—I received a notice that Mr. Biggs had paid, it was not from 110, Old Street, there was no address on it—I tried all I could to find you, but you had gone away and left no address—when I found you you were going by the name of Etherington—I went to the address on the prospectus, and from there to Gloucester Terrace, and then to the County Court, Edmonton, but could not get any information—
I went to Ilford Police-court on 28th May, through seeing 'i report in a newspaper—I went up to you outside the Court and asked you when you were going to settle with me; you said that anything due to me would be paid as soon as the books then held by the police were returned—I said that I would engage Counsel and see what I could do for you, or I would get two or three to club together—I afterwards wrote this letter to you: "Sir, I beg to say that unless the money collected for me is forwarded at once I shall communicate with the Treasury and ask them to take the matter in hand"—if I had got the money I do not know that I should not have prosecuted you.
Re-examined. I received this letter in reply, containing this receipt in the defendant's writing on one of the Albion forms, for the money received from Mrs. White, and this other receipt came to me in February—I cannot swear to it being the defendant's writing, but it is on one of the Albion forms, Albert B. Bond, General Manager—I then went to his local office and found that he had gone away—I went to the police when I saw it in the papers, but they did not give me much assistance.
By the Prisoner. The amount here stated is correct all but 3d. which was to be made up next time you called—I sent you a letter dated 16th June; I have not a copy of it—I was anxious not to punish you or put you to any inconvenience if I could help it—I do not think I wrote a letter saying that I was going to apply to a Magistrate—I went to your wife, but said very few words to her.
EDWARD BIGGS . I live at 1, St-George's Square, Upton—I was indebted to the prosecutor last year, and Mrs. Bond called on me—in consequence of what she said I paid her 31. 10s.—she afterwards gave me this receipt, signed by the defendant, but I never saw him—I paid money twice.
Cross-examined. I paid 3l. 10s. first as near as possible and the remainder two or three days afterwards—she said that she was Mrs. Bond, not Mrs. Bard—when she called the second time she brought the receipt in full—I feel certain that I paid the whole amount previous to 17th February, but I will not swear it—she said that paying her would be the same as paying you.
JOHN CUMMING MORRISSON . I am proprietor of the Globe Debt Recovery Office—I do not know the prisoner, but on 8th July last year we appointed an agent, H. C. Bard, and I understand the prisoner is the person—this receipt is not in my writing, and I never saw the money—I never authorised the prisoner personally to collect money—I have never done business with Mr. Pearson.
Cross-examined. I sent prospectuses to H. C. Bard, and appointed him agent to my office, but I never saw him—we do it by letter, and had some references also by letter.
Prisoner's Defence. The charge has been altered. The first charge was for embezzling the amount, and he wished to prove that I was a servant in his employ. The Clerk of the Court stated that the prisoner was committed by the Magistrate for embezzlement, and thai leave of the Court was afterwards obtained to indict him for obtaining the money by false pretences.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Baron Pollock.
MESSRS. BESLEY, MONTAGU WILLIAMS, and Tickell Prosecuted; MR. J. P. GRAIN Defended.
SARAH EVELEIGH . I am nurse at the receiving ward at the Greenwich Union—I have been there for about 10 years—I knew a girl named Kate Smith, a sister of Ellen Smith—I knew her before she went to the home, the prisoner's place—she was a very nice child, and as far as I knew she was healthy, not suffering from any disease—we supplied her with clothes before she went to the home—she was an inmate of the Union for a short time—her mother came and took her out about the end of the summer of 1878—she came to us from the Sutton School—when she left with her mother she was properly clad, healthy, and clean—on 22nd April this year six children were brought to the Union by Mr. Pilcher, the relieving officer, and Inspector Phillips—they were Eliza and Annie Crabbe, Elizabeth Goodland, Alice Rixon, two little Edgars, and Ellen Smith—Alice Rixon was claimed two days afterwards by her grandmother—the other six were very dirty, and had the itch from the head down to their toes, all over their bodies—they had several sores and their heads were full of lice—I gave them food—I did not think they were so badly nourished at the time, for I did not take much notice of them; I only judged from their appearance—I had known the two Crabbes before they went to the home; they had also come from the Sutton School—their mother came and fetched them from the Union; they were then properly clothed, in a clean state, and apparently free from disease—since they have returned to the Union they have wonderfully improved; they have been well taken care of.
Cross-examined. I cannot tell you the average cost of keeping a child in the Union—I said before the Magistrate that when the children were admitted into the Union from the home they had not the appearance of having been starved, and I say so now—I have had considerable experience of children—I formed that judgment from their appearance—I also said that they appeared to have been fairly fed, and that their clothes were not particularly dirty—I have had a great many children in the Union who when first admitted suffered from vermin in the head—it is a very poor neighbourhood round Deptford and Greenwich—it is not uncommon for children of the poorer classes to be suffering from vermin in the head—it is not a very difficult thing to eradicate them; I very soon get rid of them.
WILLIAM PILCHER I am relieving officer of the South Deptford district—on 14th April my attention was directed to the Home for Friendless Girls at Deptford, kept by Miss Addiscott, and on that day I went there with Dr. Ring, Inspector Phillips, and Sergeant Francis, and saw the prisoner—we said we came in consequence of communications received to visit the home and inspect the children; I told her that the gentleman who accompanied me was the medical officer—she refused to allow us to see the home or to examine the children unless in the. presence of her medical man, Dr. Ayres—we went away—I called next day in company with my colleague, Mr. Patty, and she again refused to allow us to see the home except
in the presence of Dr. Ayres—on the 21st I went again with Mr. Carter, the Coroner, Mr. Phillips, and Francis, but did not see the prisoner; she was away—we saw her mother, and we examined the house—there were eight rooms in the house, including the basement, two on each floor—two rooms on the first floor were occupied by the post-office—there are two bedrooms at the top—in the back room there was one iron bedstead—it is not exactly a back room; a portion of the front room is partitioned off—there was no carpet or any furniture whatever, or any fireplace—I examined the bedding—I cannot exactly tell what the bedding in the back room consisted of, but the general bedding consisted of packing cloth filled with straw, an under sheet, a dark brown blanket and a sheet over that, with a pillow, and either a counterpane or sheet over that—there were three bedsteads in the front room with similar bedding, but no other furniture whatever—I examined the two living rooms on the ground floor—there was no carpet or any furniture in the back sitting-room; there was a pail, a washing basin, and a paraffin lamp—in the front room there was a table; I cannot tell the number of chairs; I think there were only two; and a kind of sideboard, or I do not know whether it was a bedstead—there were two dwarf cupboards—I partially examined one of them—I found but very little appearance of food there, a crust or two; there may have been part of a loaf; there was the appearance of treacle, the appearance of butter; there may have been a little sugar in a basin; I did not see anything else—there was a coal fire burning in that room—the washhouse had a stone floor, the front kitchen was boarded—there was a deal table and two forms in the washhouse, and there may have been a cup and saucer on the dresser; that was all; there was no fire there then; the grate was very rusty, and there was a great quantity of soot on the hobs—there was a copper—there were two doors or French windows in the back kitchen, opening up Steps into the yard, and there was not a whole pane of glass in them; the glass was all broken—there was no closet in the place fit for use; there were two; one in the yard had the appearance of being a privy; it was a heap of ruins; the one upstairs was a water-closet; the seat was all to pieces; it was impossible to use either—at the bottom of the garden there was a large hole dug which had the appearance of having been used for sanitary arrangements—I saw some clothing in an anteroom past one of the closets; the whole of the clothing that I saw there was hardly fit for use; it was ragged; I won't say it was dirty, but it certainly did not appear fit for the use of children, not to keep them warm—I can't tell the exact quantity there was; it was not a very great quantity—I saw the children to examine them on 22nd; Dr. Long was with me, and Inspector Phillips and Sergeant Francis* and in consequence of the state they were in I conveyed seven to the Union—outside the house there was a board, and on it "Miss Addiscott's Home for Friendless Children."
Cross-examined. I have a carpet in my own kitchen—I find several carpeted; it is very seldom I have occasion to go into kitchens—this is not a very small house; the rooms were a good size; it has an ordinary wash-house or back kitchen—there was not a sound pane of glass in the doors; there may have been broken pieces—there was no bed in either of the living rooms—I don't know that Miss Addiscott slept there—I could not ascertain where she did sleep—I have to go about a great deal among the homes in the district—I have not seen the children of respectable poor working men
in that neighbourhood sleeping three and four under a sack—it is a poor neighbourhood; there is frequently great distress there—I don't think there are places in which the furniture would be much the same as in this home, certainly not inferior; if you speak of respectable working men there is not a house in the Deptford district that is not fully furnished—I will undertake to swear that there are not houses in Deptford where respectable classes are living in far inferior places to those I saw in the Girls Home—I only find that when they are drunken, worthless people neglecting their duty—there is no respectable home so bad as this was—from my experience I say that every respectable working man there with a family is able to have a blanket, a straw palliasse, and two sheets, and a bedstead to put them on—I should not, as a rule, expect to find the kitchen carpeted, but a mat or a sack—it is very rare indeed to find glass broken in the back kitchen of respectable working men, unless accidentally; I have seen it, and paper and rags put in, but I am now speaking of the worthless poor in and out of the parish—we have respectable working poor, and their very respectability keeps them in that state that they would be ashamed to see a broken pane of glass—I say that the closet in the house could not be used; it was not blocked up; the seat was all to pieces; it would not be safe for any one to sit on; there did not appear to be a pan there—there was no water; I tried to see if there was any connected with the closet—nothing would go down if any water was thrown in I believe it would run all over the place, and through the floor—I did not try it; there was no water there to try it with—there was ground at the back, but it had not been cultivated for a long time—there was only weeds and grass—the father of the Crabbes and the mother of the Smiths were in the Union with them, and when they left they took the children away—they were destitute at that time; I cannot tell why they left the Union—there is a home for boys, consisting of three houses in the same row as this home; it is kept by a person who I have heard was formerly a clerk in the City—before this charge was made there was in the first place a charge of assault—I made a report to the guardians of the Greenwich Union on 2nd May—I did not hear Ellen Smith make a statement to the guardians. Ellen Smith. I went with my sister Kate to Miss Addiscott's home I think in August last year—Kate was younger than me, her birthday was 23rd March, mine is the 7th September; and I shall be 13 next September—I lost my father, who was an engineer—I had been to the Sutton Schools belonging to the Union, and I came up from there to Miss Addiscott—Miss Addiscott did not allow me to go to school when I was at the home—she said I was 15 and too old to go to school, and besides she said she wanted me to stop at home and clean her place—I told her that I was 12 years of age—I did clean the place—my sister went to the Board School with some of the other girls—whilst I was at the home Miss Addiscott sent out me out with collecting cards—we were sent out in parties of two each; four in a day sometimes—I went with Esther Edgar and sometimes with Elizabeth Goodland and Eliza Crabbe—we went out at 9 in the morning and came home at 8 or 9 in the evening—we were out the whole of that time without returning at all—Miss Addiscott did not give us any food to take with us while we were out—the collecting cards she gave us were similar to these produeed—we went to people's houses and got money, and they wrote down on the back the names and amounts—I had a purse which Miss Addiscott gave me, and at the end of the day I brought
home the purse and the money and the card—sometimes the card was too full and the money could not be put down, and we used to put the money in the purse—the smallest amount we have taken home has been 1s. 10d. and the largest 8s. or 9s.,—sometimes when we were out collecting, food was given us by the ladies—we went out every day when it was fine, not on Sundays—we got enough food from one person and another while we were out—we did not spend any of the money—my sister Kate did not go out collecting—Miss Addiscott told me that if the ladies asked whether we liked to be in the home we should say "Yes;" and if they asked me how old I was, I was to say 15—she told me if they asked what we had for dinner we were to say meat and potatoes—we used to have something to eat in the morning at 9 o'clock—sometimes Miss Addiscott used to serve it in the front parlour and send it in by one of the children—sometimes it was later, 11 or 12 o'clock before we got anything to eat—she used to cut some bread up in a basin and put some hot water in it, and drain off the water and put a bit of treacle on it and send it in to us—at that time there were Eliza Crabbe, Elizabeth Goodland, Esther Edgar, my sister, Annie Crabbe, Florrie Edgar, and myself—that was not the greatest number I have known there—sometimes there have been 13 there—those I have mentioned were always there while I was there—when I first went there we used to have oatmeal—the water was boiled, then it was mixed with cold water, put into a spoon and stirred round till it was boiled; some salt was put in it and it was then poured out into a basin for us to eat—there was 1/2 lb. of oatmeal between all of us—no milk was put in it—there was only a half-penny worth of milk bought of a day, and that was for Miss Addiscott for her breakfast and tea—when we did not have oatmeal for breakfast we had the sop—there was not much bread given to us—we had one basinful each; not quite a basinful—it was larger than a breakfast cup; not quite so large as a pudding basin—sometimes we used to have a bit of bread and treacle at 10 o'clock at night—we had no dinner—Miss Addiscott used to be out—my sister came back from school at 12 o'clock and 4—we waited from 9 in the morning till sometimes 10 at night without anything to eat until Miss Addiscott came in—sometimes we used to have a half-penny worth of cabbage before tea, those that went to school—I did not have anything then—Miss Addiscott used to say we would have something, and then she would go out to her mother's and we should have to wait until she came home, and then sometimes we should have a bit of oatmeal—the girls came home from school again at 4 in the afternoon, and they used to have to wait until Miss Addiscott came home, sometimes at 8 o'clock, and she would say, "Have not you given the children any tea?" when there was not anything in the house to give them tea with—we got no meat at all except on Sundays; we then had pieces of meat, small bits that were bought at the shop, like what you have to make broth with—I have been with Miss Addiscott on a Saturday night to buy it—we did not have the meat every Sunday; sometimes we had rice for dinner, and when we had rice we did not have meat—I do not know how often we had meat; we very often had rice—I was there on the 12th November, when Alice Maud Edgar died—she was at the home before me—she was not ill when I first went there; she got ill a week or two after—she slept in the back parlour on two chairs when she was ill—Miss Addiscott slept in the front parlour on the floor on a flock bed—the other girls slept up in the back room—I used to sleep downstairs in the back
parlour, and sometimes Alice Crabbe used to sleep with me to keep me company—there was no bed there; we had to sleep on the floor, and put some clothes under us and lay on them, and we had to cover ourselves the best way we could with some grey bodies out of the clothes-room—up to the time that Alice Maud Edgar died there was only one blanket—sometimes Miss Addiscott used to have that to cover over herself—the children used to cover themselves over with their petticoats and that, there was no blanket—the others slept on mattresses and beds on bedsteads—there was nothing but straw in a canvas covering that had not got any sheets, or counterpanes, or anything of the kind—when I slept upstairs with the other girls some used to lay at the side, some at the foot, and some at the head—there was never any fire there—I suffered from cold there because the windows were broken—Alice Edgar was 4 years old when she died—before she died she had a few lice on her in her head—Kate Verch was a baby; she could not walk or talk—she slept along with us sometimes—I was there when she died, and when all the three died—my sister was taken ill on Shrove Tuesday; that was when she first took to her bed—she had not been well enough to go to the Board School from December—she could hardly walk; she had some of those insects upon her—she had no different food from what I have described up to Shrove Tuesday—she slept upstairs in the bedroom with the other children when she was first taken bad on Shrove Tuesday—Miss Addiscott made her up a bed in the back parlour, and she told me to take off the mattress and put it on the floor to lay her on, and ever since that night she slept in the back parlour—I used to sleep against her, not on the same mattress but on the floor; she used to sleep on the mattress—when we went to the home we only had the clothing that we had on us—they were old clothes—my sister went to school in them—there was no fire in the winter in the back parlour, only when they burnt the vermin off my sister—she kept to her bed from Shrove Tuesday to the 6th April—I knew she was ill for about two weeks before that; she could hardly eat anything and wanted drink every minute; she was thinner than when she first went into the home, and when she was ill her bones were almost through her skin—I could hardly take her out of bed because she cried about the pain in her bones; she said her bones hurt her—Miss Addiscott sometimes came home at 1 or 2 in the morning—my sister died on Saturday, 6th April—Miss Addiscott was home about 12 that night—she slept in the front parlour, and I and my sister in the back—there were folding doors between the two rooms, and she told me to shut them because she could not bear the groans of my sister; she did groan because of the pain—I attended on my sister entirely—at 12 o'clock I went to bed, and Miss Addiscott offered me a bit of meat because I did not have my tea; I gave my sister a bit and she eat it, and afterwards went to sleep—she kissed me and said "Good night," and I said, "Katie, be a good girl to-night," and she said "Yes," and she laid down and went off, and did not call me any more that night—I covered her over with a sheet, and a white blanket and a counterpane—I had not had that long to cover her over with; I believe it belonged to Mrs. Addiscott; I had never seen it before—I woke at 7 in the morning—my sister did not call me—I had to get up and light the fire, and get Miss Addiscott's breakfast—I did not go for the milk before she was up—I was afraid if there was any money gone she would blame it to me—about 10 o'clock we had our breakfast—she told me to take some to my sister and I found she
was dead—Miss Addiscott came into the front parlour and said "Will you be washing her while I go home to my mother"—Eliza Crabbe helped me—Miss Addiscott said if any one came I was not to open the door to them, and she would halloa through the keyhole "Nelly," and I was to open it to her—Eliza. Crabbe helped me to pull off my sister's chemise and that, and she had vermin all crawling over her face, and her head was nearly out of bed and her legs drawn up, I got a pail of water and washed her—Miss Addiscott did not come back before 1 o'clock—Mrs. Addiscott, her mother, came with her; she cut off my sister's hair and Miss Addiscott told me to pick off the vermin with my fingers one by one and put them in the fire—there had not been any fire before, it was lighted on purpose to burn the vermin in her hair—Miss Addiscott was obliged to go into the other room because she could not bear the smell of my sister's head—there were vermin all on the bed too—Miss Addiscott told me to go and put the sheet on the line and shake it so that they would be able to fall off—I was occupied every two minutes in taking off the vermin, and as I was having my meals she kept telling me to do it—when I washed my sister I noticed that she had the itch all over her, between her fingers, and scratches, so that I could not wash it, and when she was dead the prisoner said to me "How dirty your hands are"—I said "They are not dirty, it is the itch," and she said "Oh, whatever shall I do?"—I did not know Mr. John Smith, who married my mother; I know him now, he came to the home on the Monday night, but I did not see him because I was upstairs taking off the counterpanes—Miss Addiscott did not tell me that my stepfather had been—when my sister's hair was cut by Mrs. Addiscott I saw a few sores on her head where the vermin had been biting her—my sister had complained about her bones hurting her, and when she was dead I could see that they were nearly all through—when she was put in her coffin Miss Addiscott said "Nelly, look sharp and pick off the vermin before the undertaker comes"—they were not quite all picked off when he came, they kept coming on in the night—I was not picking them off all day on the Monday because I had to do my parlour—I had been doing it all day on Sunday and I did it Monday also—I saw Miss Addiscott strike my sister not more than two weeks before she died; my sister was undressed and in bed, she only had on her chemise—she was hungry, and told me to ask Miss Addiscott whether I should give her a bit of bread-and-butter—I went and asked her, and she refused, and came in with a cane, and pulled down the clothes and beat her—she gave her a good many stripes—I crawled out of bed, and saw the marks all down her arm where she had been beaten—I noticed the marks for about a day afterwards; there was no other reason for the beating than what I have said—Miss Addiscott gave no other reason—she said "You have had quite enough to-night, and you are not going to have any more"—she beat me with the poker on Sunday morning before Shrove Tuesday because I upset a cup of coffee; she hit me on the shoulder saying "Take that, and if any of you keep me from church this morning you will never see another Sunday"—the blows with the poker hurt me; the mark was there for two or three days; I showed it to the children—I saw Miss Addiscott strike Alice Maud Edgar on Sunday morning before this at the end of the washhouse; Alice happened to dirt the bed, and Miss Addiscott undressed her, and beat her with the clothes line six or seven times double, and two or three days after that she was taken bad, and took to her bed, and she died very soon after—she
beat her in the stone washhouse where nearly all the windows are broken—I have not seen her strike little Verch, the baby; I was told of it—I nursed little Verch—I noticed marks all over her, and on her arm—she died in my arms on the Saturday night in the back parlour—there was no fire there—after my sister Kate died, Miss Addiscott said that Mr. Pitcher and Inspector Phillips were coming, and we were to scrub the rooms as hard as we could, and she went and bought some counterpanes and two blankets—my mother came to see me between the time of my going there and August—I don't know how often she came; I saw her about three times—Miss Addiscott was present when I saw her—I was only left alone with her once, that was before my sister was ill—I never went to the Board School at all.
Cross-examined. I recollect being at the Union with my mother before I went to the home; it was a long way from the home; I believe it would take me an hour to walk it—when we went out collecting we went to Lewisham and Lee, and once Miss Addiscott took me and Esther Edgar to Forest Hill to collect—we never passed the Union—we never went there to make any complaint; we were afraid to do it—I did not know where my mother lived—when I left the Union I went to the home, not directly; I went first to my aunt's in Hadow Street, Greenwich—I did not go to my aunt to make any complaint of ill-treatment; I knew if I did I should get a beating when I got back, and I dare say Miss Addiscott would have come after us—my aunt had been kind to me; she is not poor; her husband is in work—she has no children—they live in a nice little house of their own—she is my late father's sister—when we went out collecting we went to gentlemen's houses, large houses with gardens; sometimes we saw the ladies, sometimes the servants used to fetch the money out to us; they sometimes gave us food—Miss Addiscott only took us once to Forest Hill, and she left us there, and vent home—I was asked questions before the guardians at the Greenwich Union—I did not tell them we had as much to eat as we wanted at the home; I am quite sure of that—I know Dr. Ayres—I did not see him at the home very often, only twice when my sister was alive, and once when she was dead, because I was out—I don't know that he was there a great many times—I told Mr. Thornton, the doctor, at the guardians' place, that I had as much food as I wanted—I said that because we were afraid; we were going back again to Miss Addiscott's home—I told him a lie, because I was afraid of going back again—I was not in the room when my mother was examined by the guardians—I do not know that they refused to allow my mother to take me away—I have seen her since then—I don't know Mr. Finlay, Dr. Ayres's assistant—I only saw the gentleman once who came, and he was a very short gentleman; he came from Dr. Ayres—I saw him at the home two or three days before we left—I don't recollect a doctor coming the night my sister died I was with her the whole of the evening before she died; no person from the doctor came into the room while I was nursing her—Dr. Ayres came on the Saturday night before my sister died on the Tuesday, between 1 and 2 o'clock—she was then in the back parlour—the doctor used to send bottles of medicine, which she had—he saw her in bed sometimes—Mrs. Addiscott used to come in nearly every morning—she was very kind, and so was Miss Addiscott, the prisoner's sister—sometimes she would come over and sleep along with Miss Addiscott, and sometimes the mother came, and sometimes the brother—it was when my sister was dead that Miss Addiscott said she
I would go for her mother—I am quite sure no gentleman came to see her the night or day before she died—I know the meaning of an oath, and it is wrong to tell a lie—I can't tell whether that is Dr. Ayres (Looking at him), it is so long since I have seen him—it is him—I could not make him out at first—I noticed the vermin crawling about my sister two or three weeks before she died—they were not crawling about her when Dr. Ayres and the other doctor came to see her—I used to pick them off every two or three minutes—I did not see them crawling about her before she died, because she had her hair on then—I did not notice lice upon her some time before she died—the first time I saw lice upon her was after her death—I never ate any orange-peel out of the street or any stumps of cabbages—Mr. Ashman, the postman, once gave me a cabbage to eat because I was hungry—Miss Addiscott's sister sometimes slept in the house along with her—Miss Addiscott slept in the front parlour on a flock bed on the floor—when I first went to the home there was only one bed; at least two, one wood and one iron, and one mattress on each of them, nothing else; that I swear—we had no bedclothes, only our own clothes—there was a blanket, but Miss Addiscott had that aver her—we had only our own clothes, and we undressed and covered our own clothes over us—we had no clothes put over us any more than we had on during the day—we just took our clothes off and put them on top of Us; all the girls did that—sometimes Eleanor Mobbs used to sleep by herself—sometimes there were two in that bed, and all the rest in the wooden bedstead—I never spoke to the kind Miss Addiscott and Mrs. Addiscott about these things because they knew it; they said nothing about it—the little baby Verch had no covering at all, only what we used to give her—sometimes she used to sleep with Miss Addiscott; this was all through last winter—whenever she knew that Mr. Pitcher was coming she bought blankets and that, or sometimes before; about a week before—one time she bought the blankets and one time the counterpanes—I did not tell my mother when I saw her that I was sleeping naked on a bed all the winter—I never said a word about it because I was afraid Miss Addiscott would beat me—the kind Miss Addiscott never beat me; she used to save us from a beating a good many times—she had nothing to do with us; it was no good complaining to her; she could do nothing for us—we had plenty to eat in the Union, and were comfortable there—I am not there now—Miss Addiscott told us it was funny in the Union, and that we had skilly for breakfast—we did not have skilly; we had bread-and-butter and tea—I told her it was not true; she said it was; she would have her own way—Eliza Crabbe used to go to Mrs. Baker's to help—I never asked Eliza Crabbe to tell that lady that we slept naked—we were all examined at Greenwich; we did not hear what the others said—I heard what' some of the other girls said; I heard them say that they had counterpanes and sheets to cover them; that was before I went there; they were taken away before I went; I believe Miss Addiscott pawned them, because one day when me and Eliza Crabbe went to the cupboard, we saw some pawn-tickets there, and they had on them the name of Henry Phillips—the largest piece of money I ever collected and took home to Miss Addiscott was a half-crown, we generally got threepenny and fourpenny bits; we walked a good many miles in the day, but we used not to think of the distance; we did that all through the bitter weather when the snow was on the ground—we used to go out from 9 o'clock in the morning and get back
at 8 o'clock at night—some of the ladies used to take us inside and fetch out a chair in the passage to sit down upon while they got us some money—Esther Edgar used to go out collecting with me—she is about 11 years of age.
Re-examined. I never saw Dr. Ayres and his assistant at the same time—I don't know whether it was his assistant that I saw, it was somebody belonging to him, a very short gentleman with a high hat on, and Miss Addiscott showed him our arms all covered with itch; that was after my sister's death, and two or three weeks before we were taken away to the Union—I never saw that gentleman till after my sister's death—Mrs. Addiscott used to save us from many a beating, she used to drag us back and say, "Laura, don't do it any more"—she saved Rosie Verch from a beating and interfered when the prisoner was beating the children—she used to give us milk at her house and sometimes she used to give me some tea there—sometimes when I came home from collecting Miss Addiscott used to send me to her house to clean the steps, and then I used to have my tea there—twice Mrs. Addiscott gave me 3d., once to buy a comb with—the sister used to do just the same as her mother, save us from a beating, and she used to give us tea and sometimes buy us sweets and cakes on a Saturday night—when she saved us from a beating it was when the prisoner was beating the children in the front parlour—it was the first time we were taken to the Union that Mr. Thornton asked if we had as much food as we wanted, and I said "Yes"—I have never said so since—I did not know that my sister had lice at all before she died—there were only two bedsteads when I first went to the home, the other two came while I was there, before Shrove Tuesday—I did not tell my mother because I was afraid she would tell Miss Addiscott, and then she would beat me directly my mother went—when I was at the Sutton Schools I slept in a bed with proper covering—we had two sheets, a pillow and a pillow-case, three blankets, and a quilt—I never suffered from cold while I was there, and I had plenty to eat.
JANE ELIZABETH SMITH . I am the mother of Ellen and Kate Smith—my first husband died on 6th April, 1875; I then had four children, two of whom were Ellen and Kate—some time after I went to a hospital—I had been ill seven months—the two children were at Sutton School and were taken from there to Miss Addiscott's home on 12th August, 1878—I saw Miss Addiscott, and I was to pay 4s. a week if I could, and she was to take the two girls—Kate was in her 11th year, and Nellie in her 13th year.
Cross-examined. I was not in the Union with them—they went in May, 1875, to Sutton School—they were in the Union in 1878, I left in 1876—I had to take them away as I could not keep up my payments to the guardians—I was not destitute—I went in through illness, to undergo an operation, and as I thought, to die—I had to find some place to put the children in, and I went to Miss Addiscott—I paid her a little—I could not say how much, it was under 11.—the children were in excellent health before that, I have never said the contrary—I saw Kelly three or four times while she was at the home, on two occasions in the front parlour, once in the kitchen, and once in the passage—I never saw her in the street—the person she went to was not her aunt, she calls her so, and so do I; we were fellow-nurses together but no relations—she was only there for a few hours—I did not hear her make her statement before the guardians.
By the COURT. I was not in the Union when I first heard of this home,
I heard of it from a person who lived in Greenwich, who is now gone to New Zealand, and I went and saw Miss Addiscott, and she agreed to take the children and appeared to speak very fairly.
ESTHER MARIA EDGAR . I am 11 years old—I don't remember when I first went to the Home, I was there nearly two years—I was taken from the Union—I was hungry nearly all the time I was there nearly every day in the week—I was cold—I never complained to Miss Addiscott, because we were afraid to do so—sometimes we only bad one meal a day, sometimes we had two, on Sundays we always had three meals—we had breakfast nearly always at 10 or 11, we had sop with water and treacle upon it—we had dinner sometimes about 2 or 3 o'clock, we had rice with treacle on it and sometimes broth, nothing else—sometimes we used to have tea at 6 or 7, sometimes we used to have sop with water and treacle and sometimes blead and treacle—we had nothing after tea; we went to bed sometimes at 8—I was beaten by Miss Addiscott six or seven times—several times she used to teat me with a rope, a clothes line; she hurt me, it left a mark right across my arms, it remained all the week; it did not always leave marks—she has beat me on the head with the rolling-pin in the coal cellar, because a boy went up in the bedroom—I have seen my little sister beaten and little Katie Verch—I did not see Kate Smith beaten—I slept up in the top bedroom—there was only one bedstead when I first went there, afterwards there were four in one room, and one in another—when I first went there was only a sheet for bedding; I think I went in the middle of the summer, afterwards we had a sheet and a blanket; that was six or seven months afterwards—when the sheets were washed we only had the blanket.
Cross-examined. I said at Greenwich that I was happy in the Home at Christmas; we had plenty of meat at Christmas—before I went to the Home my father beat me once—he beat me twice, once for going out; he tied me to a bed-post, I was only 5 or 6 years old then—I went to the school that Miss Richards keeps, she struck me once with a cane—we generally had three slices of bread for tea—my father sometimes came to see me at the Home—I sometimes met him in the street—I never complained to him about the food—I recollect my sister Alice Maud, dying—Miss Addiscott was very fond of her—I don't know whether she sent for Dr. Ayres, I never saw him there—I know she sent for a doctor, and some medicine came for my sister—sometimes we had gruel for breakfast with bread, and sometimes sugar in the gruel—sometimes during the week we had broth with bones in it, sometimes we had mutton or beef on Sundays—I knew Mrs. Addiscott the prisoner's mother; I liked her, she was very kind to me, a nice old lady—I used to go and see her sometimes—she very often came to the Home, and also Miss Addiscott's sister—I liked her, she was a nice kind lady—when I went to see Mrs. Addiscott she sometimes gave me bread and butter—I was not ill when I was at the Hoirie, no doctor came to see me, only whon I was taken away—a doctor used to come and see my sister before she died, but I never saw him there; he used to come generally at night—Miss Addiscott did not seem very sorry when my sister died—I did not say so at Greenwich—I don't recollect saying so.
JANET RICHARDS . I am head mistress of the Board School in Regent Street, Deptford, not three minutes' walk from this home—Kate Smith came to school at the latter end of August, 1878—at that time the two Edgars, Annie Crabbe, a Goodland, and Clements attended the school from
the home—when Kate Smith came she was pale and did not look very well—she simply seemed rather a delicate child, but no illness seemingly ailed her—I am not quite sure whether one other child came at the same time as Kate Smith—the others had been in attendance some monthsKate gradually got worse and worse up to December—in October she was so bad that she could scarcely walk across the room, and in November I told her she had better not come again, but stop at home, because she seemed so ill—their usual time for coming to school was 10 o'clock, after being sent for; I used to send for them about 9.45—the proper time for coming to school was 10 minutes to 9—their attendance was not regular; they were there about a third of the time—in cold weather, when Kate came to school, I used to put her directly by the fire—she could not go herself at that time; I used to lead her to the fire and sit her down there—I afterwards found that she was suffering from itch, but I considered it was weakness generally—I noticed her clothing particularly—she had one thin alpacca garment, which I used to pin to the body, and a chemise—I cannot tell whether she wore a petticoat; I should say not, because I saw the shape of her limbs as she went across the room—she did not complain to me of any suffering—I asked her several questions, but she said very little indeed to me, except that she was hungry, and always ate food given her there—I gave her food, and I know that the children from the home stole the other children's dinners—I wrote to Miss Addiscott about it and saw her—before seeing her I noticed that the children were all over sores, which I afterwards found was itch—they were very dirty indeed; they had to be sent to the lavatory to be washed every day—Kate Smith suffered from sores—the prisoner came to the school on 1st January this year, and I had some conversation with her—she said that the children had been ill-treated in school, and that the marks I saw on them had been done at school, and she should remove them in consequence—I noticed wheals on Esther Edgar and little Verch—I denied doing it, and wished her to complain to the School Board, and asked her to do so—in consequence of what she said I made a report—the prisoner told me that Kate Smith would not be able to come out again; she thought she was very ill indeed, and also that Annie Crabbe was very ill and could not come out, and she was away that week—I know that Edgar and Verch had no petticoats at all, only the thin garment and a chemise; that was in the depth of last winter—Miss Addiscott took them away in January—they had all got worse and worse up to that time—I had seem them picking up crusts and orange peel in the playground and taking other children's dinners—I and the teachers have often given them food, and they have taken it most ravenously—in December, 1878, I saw Miss Addiscott at a meeting at New Cross Road and heard her address—I should think there were not more than 20 persons there besides those I knew—she stated that in consequence of the great want of a home she felt herself specially called to this work—she was circulating these papers, and she gave me this report. (This was a report and balance sheet of the horns from July, 1877, to January, 1878, showing subscriptions and donations 69l. 13s. 8d. expenditure 671. 14s. 7 1/2 d.) In January, 1878, she told me that she was in no lack of funds at all then, whatever they might be in future—the children were so cold that they could not do their lessons properly in school—they suffered from cold all through the cold weather—I don't think I had any further interview with Miss Addiscott—I cannot
give the exact date at which Kate Smith ceased to come to school—I could do so by the register; I think she went through November and left in December.
Cross-examined. I have no interest or feeling in this matter, except for the children; there is no rivalry whatever between Miss Addiscott and myself—I know Mr. Fegan, I have spoken to him once or twice, no more—he is the governor of a boys' home close by Miss Addiscott's—he takes a great interest in children and has been very good to the children of my school—I take a good deal of interest in him because I think I can sometimes get something out of him for the children, only for that reason; be has sent me tickets for free teas for the poor of Deptford, and clothing; he is a very kind man—I believe he is a bachelor—he is much younger than myself—I don't know that at one time he kept company with Miss Addiscott, and I don't belive he ever did—I heard that there was an action for slander by Miss Addiscott against Mr. Fegan; not from Mr. Fegan, he has never mentioned it—when first these children came they were not in very happy plight, and they gradually grew worse till one fainted, others huddled over the fire, and others picked up orange peel and rejected food in the playground—I made a report to the managers of the School Board and they took action upon it; they reported to the Charity Organisation Society and they came to the home and made inquiries—I made a further report to the managers of the School Board, I felt myself under them and that they were the persons to take this in hand—it was in consequence of a third report that I made that the children were removed in April—both the Edgars attended school up to January, when Miss Addiscott took them away; not regularly, perhaps six times out of ten—I sometimes chastise children at school with a cane across the hand; not unless they deserve it, and then I give it them sharp—at the meeting on 20th December, 1878, Miss Addiscott stated publicly that two of the children had died in the home—before that she had told me that Kate Smith was very ill and not likely to come again—I never went to the home.
Re-examined. Miss Addiscott said to me in January "You have sent a number of women and gentlemen to the home, but they have got nothing out of me"—there was no ill feeling between us, we were always very civil—my second report was made at the end of 1878, and the third in January this year, after she had been accusing me of ill treating the children—on one occasion I punished them for being late, and Miss Addiscott said it was their own fault—I never beat Kate Smith since August—I punished Esther Edgar three times, she was very tiresome.
ELEANOR MOBES , Jun. I went to Miss Addiscott's home in October last year—I think there were twelve other children there—Alice Maud Edgar, a little girl of four years of age, was one of them—Kate Verch, the baby, was another; and Kate Smith another—when I first went there I used to sleep upstairs in the top room; there were three bedsteads there and an iron one in the back room—sometimes there was a blanket—we used to come down in the morning about 8 o'clock—we had bread and water sopped for breakfast, nothing else—we had dinner at 12 o'clock, that was boiled rice, and oatmeal for tea, nothing else before wo went to bed—we went to bed at 9 o'clock—sometimes Eliza Crabbe sat up for Miss Addiscott, she came home sometimes at 12 o'clock—we had no milk, we had meat sometimes on a Saturday—I got ill after I had been there about five weeks
—I had boon living with my aunt before I went there—I had enough to eat there but not at the home—I did not suffer from cold at my aunt's—I felt the cold at the home when I was in bed—I only had a sheet any my clothes to cover me—I was at the home up to February, and Was then taken away—Kate Smith was ill when I left.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court that I had a sheet and counterpane to cover me at night; that was true—sometimes we had a couuterpane-little Esther Edgar and her sister slept with me occasionally—Isaid at the police-court "We had meat on Sundays, but not every doctor came several times to see some of little girls that were ill—I did not see anybody take any medicine—bottles come—we had breakfast in the back parlour and sometimes in the front kitchern, and sometimes in the little wash-house—sometimes we had pudding with currants in it for dinner-we went out for a walk once when I was there—we went to church on Sundays-sometimes we went twice, not every Sunday, but very often—I said at the police-court that I was very happy at the home, and used to play skipping rope in the garden; that was true, I was very happy there—sometimes we had bread and butter before going to bed—I was not always happy there—I was until I got ill—Miss Addiscott did not take me to the doctor's until the day I was coming out—she gave me some cod liver oil-my aunt came to see me at the home—I had one set of clothes for week days and one for Sundays—Ihave seen Miss Addiscoott's brother there and her mother and sister; and also some strang ladies calling-some came when Afce Edgar was ill, one was her aunt—did not see any other ladies, only her aunt—her father came almost every day to see her when she was ill—she died and the other one was taken away.
Re-examined. I think I had cod liver oil given to me four times; that was after Kate Verch died—I saw the medical man at the home before she died—no doctor came to see me—Miss Addiscott took me to him the day I was taken away.
WILLIAM EDMUND BAILEY , F.R.C.S I live at the Evalina Hospital Southwark Bridge Road—on 13th February I admitted Eleanor mobbs as a patiant—she was weighed on the 17th, and weighed 3st 5lb. 8oz.—she was weighed again on 21st March, and then weighed 3 stone 12lb. 4oz., and on 7th Mareh 3 stone 81bs,—she was much below the normal weight when admitted; she was coimderably emaciated; there was no fat which I should expect to find—she came to us to be treated for itch—she was extremely laguid and exhausted—it was with some difficulty that we could get her to take some food, she was so weak—I could trace no organic disease—we examined her very carefully on several occasions—I consider want of proper food would account for the state she was in—when she got proper food she immediately increased in weight—she was covered from head to foot with skin disease—it was certainly of long standing—her head was smothered with lice—her hair had to be cut quite short at once; it was in a filthy state—on the right great toe there was a patch of inflamed skin, with matter underneath; that was probably due to an inflamed chilblain—on the other foot there was an open sore, probably from chilblain—picked up very fairly in a fortnight or so—in my opinion, if insufficient food had been given to her for any particular period, it world bring on consumption, and I consider she would have died.
ELEANOR MOBBS , Sen. I am a widow, and live at 4, "Varnford Court, City—I am caretaker of that house—the little girl Eleanor Mobbs is my daughter—she was 12 last April—she went into the home on 14th October, 1878—before that she Was in very good condition—she had no lice, not was she suffering from itch or anything of the kind—I went to see her at the home fortnightly, with one exception when I left it for three weeks—I saw her with the other children—sometimes Miss Addiscott was with them, sometimes not—I noticed a change in her appearance after about two months; she seemed to have lost all her spirits in life, and was very dull and very thin, and she got thinner every time I saw her afterwards—her uncle, Mr. Heather, removed her on 12th February to the Evalina Hospital.
Cross-examined. The reason I sent her to the home was because I could not afford to keep her—I was not to pay anything—she had previously been with an aunt, and she could not afford to keep her any longer—for the first two months she appeared healthy—the first Monday in November I noticed her looking very bad, or December; it was before Christmas—I did not speak to Miss Addiscott because the child never made any complaint to me—I saw several of the children together when Miss Addiscott was not there—they were generally in the front parlour—they had a fire there—the door was always open when I went there—I never saw Mrs. Addiscott there, or the sister—my child suffered from her birth from some defect in the roof of her mouth, a cleft palate—she is an only child—I believe at one time, when she was at her aunt's, she did have lice; she caught them at school; that was. about two months before she went to the home—she had long hair, plaited and tied up.
Re-examined. We got rid of the lice in a week—she does not now suffer from a cleft palate—she was at the London Hospital on arid off for two years to have that operated upon—when I went to the home I used to stay from about 2.30 till 6—the day for going was the first Monday in every month—there was one mother there besides me.
WILLIAM HEATHER . I am an omnibus driver, and live at New Cross—Eleanor Mobbs was my niece, she was staying with an aunt before she went to the home—for about eight months I saw her there constantly up to three days before she went to the home—she was in very good health—I did not see her at the home until the day I fetched her away, which was Monday 10th February—I went about 12 o'clock; at first I saw the prisoner there and asked if I could see little Eleanor Mobbs, she said she was out—I asked if she had gone to school; she said, "No," she was gone out on an errand—I asked how long she would be before she returned—she said, "About 4 o'clock"—I questioned her further and she said she had gone to her mother's, 101, Douglas Street—I went there, my niece was not there, and I went back to Miss Addiscott and told her that her mother said she had returned—she said, "Yes; she has returned, she is having her dinner and you cannot see her now; but, if you will wait a quarter of an hour, you may see her"—I went into the front parlour and Miss Addiscott brought the child to me—I said, "That is not the little girl I want to see, that is not Nelly Mobbs"—the child said, "Yes, uncle, it is me"—I said, "Never"—there was such an alteration in her, she looked so thin and bad, I did not know her; nothing like she appears now—I said I would take her away—I asked her whether she had been out, and the child said she had not—Miss Addiscott said, "Don't tell stories, you know you have been out"—I said, "It is a pouring wet
day, and her boots are not wet, it does not look like telling an untruth"—I told the child to put on her bonnet directly and I would take her with me—Miss Addiscott said she could not allow the child to go with me, the mother had put her in the home and the mother must take her from it—I said then I would come on the Wednesday with the •mother, and I would take her away, and I did so.
ELIZA CRABBE . I am 12 years of age—in the middle of last year I went from Sutton School to the home, and I used to go out collecting money for Miss Addiscott with Elizabeth—while I was at the home I had not enough to eat—I slept upstairs in the winter time with Elizabeth Goodland, we only had a sheet and our clothes to cover us—for breakfast we sometimes used to have sop with water and treacle, sometimes rice for dinner, sometimes broth, we had nothing for tea in the afternoon and no milk—sometimes we had meat on Sundays; we used to take a half-pennyworth of milk, Miss Addiscott had that—I suffered from the cold of a night—I did not complain about it—when the weather was bad we used to sit in the front kitchen—there was no fire there—we could not keep ourselves warm; we used to sit on the floor.
Cross-examined. My father used to come to see us frequently on Saturday—he came to the front door—I never complained to him—I saw my mother there frequently; I never complained to her—I went to Mrs. Baker at Brockley, to do some little odd jobs last Christmas; I never complained to her—I knew Kate Verch—Miss Addiscott used to get tins of condensed milk for her; she fed her with a spoon—sometimes we had* three slices of bread and butter for tea on Sunday, and we had dumplings without plums—I had not a blanket to cover me in bad, only a sheet—I said at the police-court that we had a sheet and blanket to cover us, and that we put our clothes over us—that was true; a little before we came away Miss Addiscott bought us a blanket; we had some meat and pudding at Christmas—I sometimes went with messages to the schools for Miss Addiscott, and to other places on errands for her.
Re-examined. I did not tell my father, because Miss Addiscott would beat us—I never told any one how we were treated—we had more clothes upon us when we left the Home than we had before my father took me to the Home, because he was out of work.
ELIZABETH GOODLAND . I shall be 11 next birthday—I went to Miss Addiscott's home for a year and a half—my mother was dead, and my father took me there—he paid 3s. 6d. a week for me—I remember little Kate Smith there—I saw Miss Addiscott beat her once with the clothes line; not very long before she took to her bed—she was standing up at the time, and had her clothes on—she cut her across the back about three times—she had on a grey skirt and a grey body, and some petticoats—I did not see any marks upon her afterwards—I did not look.
Cross-examined. This was in the back parlour—there was a bed there—sometimes me and Eliza Crabbe used to sleep in it—she beat her because she asked for a piece of bread—the prisoner fetched the clothes line from down-stairs, and doubled it up, and hit her with it very hard—she cried and screamed—some of the girls were in the room—there was Nelly Smith and some others—ladies came to the home sometimes—I never complained to them or to Mrs. Addiscott, or the sister—they were very kind to us; I used to go to Mrs. Addiscott's house, and she gave us bread-and-butter and pence—I had a
counterpane on the bed when I first went there, and a sheet on the top of the mattress; sometimes there was another one; not always—sometimes we had a fire in the front kitchen, sometimes in the back parlour, and sometimes in the front parlour where Miss Addiscott had her meals—I have seen Mrs. Mobbs there—I never told her about the whipping; she was a very kind, nice old lady.
Re-examined. I did not have enough to eat—I did not complain, I was afraid.
JOHN SMITH . I am a labourer, and live in Creed Lane—on 3rd January, 1879,1 married Jane Smith, the mother of Kate and Nelly Smith—at that time I was not aware that the children were at this home—on 7th April, between 7 and 8 p.m., I went to Miss Addiscott for the purpose of seeing them, and paying 1l.; the front door was open, and I saw some children in the passage—I saw a female who said she was Miss Addiscott—I said I wanted to ask after the welfare of the two little Smiths—she said "What the hell has that to do with you"—she did not say that the child was lying in the house dead—I saw the prisoner at the Greenwich Police-court about two months afterwards, but could not recognise her; it was in the evening between the lights when I saw her.
JOHN SMITH (continued). I never saw the lady except on that one occasion—she said "If you come to-morrow night you can. see the children"—I said I was unable to come; I went away—she did not ask my name—I subsequently found that the child had died on 6th April.
Cross-examined. I went to the police-court, and gave my evidence—I did not go before the guardians—I swear that she said "What the hell is it to do with you"—I spoke to her for about three or four minutes—she stood against the back parlour door, and I stood against the street door on the doorstep—I saw children about the place—the street door was open. By the Court. I did not make her any reply when she said this; I stood and considered whether I would speak to her, but I felt so disgusted at the way she spoke to me that I thought I had better walk away.
GEORGE ASHMAN . I am in the service of the General Post-office, and live at 76, Napier Street, Deptford—the post-office occupies the first floor of Miss Addiscott's house in High Street, Deptford, where I am on duty—I have the use of the copper in the back kitchen—a great many panes of glass were broken in the doors there last winter; it was very cold indeed there—I had to light a fire there every three or four weeks, and sometimes every fortnight to scrub out the washhouse—I have noticed the children there; 'they used to have a form there to sit on—there was no fire there; there was no fireplace but the copper—I never saw any fire in the front kitchen that I know of—I have frequently seen the children there in the severe weather; the big ones used to take the small ones on their knees—when the copper fire was lighted they would draw their stools up to it—I imagine they were hungry from what I saw; I have seen them eating orange peel and cabbage stump or anything they could get hold of—they have frequently asked me to leave a bit of coal on the fire, and not let it out, they were so cold; they were very scantily clad, and not very clean—I have seen them playing about in the back yard occasionally, and frequently eating grass there, four or five
of them together—they have frequently asked me for money, and I have given them a halfpenny or a penny to buy food, I imagine.
Cross-examined. I have said "What do you want a halfpenny for?" and they said, "To get something to eat"—they were eating grass frequently, picking it off and eating it—there was a grass-plot there—I have not seen them play skipping-rope there—I have not the least doubt they were hungry or else they would not have eaten it as they did—I was in the washhouse about every fortnight or three weeks, but I was up and down every day—our coal-cellar was attached to the kitchen where the children used to be, and I saw them every day—I have seen Mrs. and Miss Addiscott there frequently, and the father several times—I know Dr. Ayres—I have occasion to visit him every day to deliver letters—I have never seen him at the home, or his assistant—I am there from 5.30 a.m. till about 10 at night.
By the COURT. There have been complaints several times—my attention was first called to this being a serious matter about 12 months back, when I saw them eating the grass—I never asked them how they were getting on—I had a reason for not speaking to them much—Miss Addiscott said that the postman who was there before me gave them halfpence for an immoral purpose—I never mentioned the matter to the authorities—I spoke to the inspector of nuisances on two occasions about the place behind being so very inconvenient, for there was no place for any one to go to—I made no complaint about the children being starved, it was no business of mine; it has been talked about in the office—I am married and have children of my own. (The certificates of the deaths of the three children were read, the cause of death in each case being certified by Dr. Ayres as tabes mesenterica.)
HENRY PHILLIPS . (Police Inspector R.) On 1st April my attention was directed to this home—on 5th April I saw two of the children in the street, and on the same day I went to the home—I there saw the prisoner—I told her I was an inspector of police, and had come to see her Home, for a gentleman—I did not mention the name—she said it would be inconvenient for me to see it then, would I call again—I went again on the 10th—I did not say that I would do so—I saw her then in company with the children in the front room—I stated in my deposition that I knew Kate Smith had been buried the day before, but I was wrong; I heard it from Miss Addiscott that night—she said, "We have lost a child this week, and it has been buried"—I said "Another one looks very ill"—she said, "Yes, she i§ suffering from dropsy"—that was a little child I have seen here, I don't know her name, it was the youngest of the lot; she looked very different at that time to what she does now—I asked her where the children slept—she said they were upstairs in bed, there were only about four or five there—this was about 6 or seven in the evening—I asked if I could see the upstairs—she said it would be inconvenient then, if I would call again I could see them—I did not call again till I went with Mr. Pitcher.
THOMAS BOND . I am a surgeon and Lecturer on Forensic Medicine at Westminster Hospital—I have been present in Court during the whole of this trial—I have noticed the cause of death alleged in the three certificates—the popular term for tabes mesenterica is consumption of the bowels—it means a deposit of tubercular matter in the glands of the intestines which prevents the passage of the prepared food to the general system, causing starvation—I cannot tell you the exact proportion of deaths from tabes mesenterica—I have not been able to get the information—I can give my
own experience in the matter, and that is that the disease known as tabes mesenterial, pathologically and correctly known as such, is very uncommon—the deaths of three children in the same house, from the same cause within six months, taken from different families is very extraordinary, unless it were a place for the collection of scrofulous subjects—I have never known such an occurrence—in a hospital undoubtedly it may be so—it has never come to my knowledge—a scrofulous tendency would predipose to the deposition of tubercle, so that in any collection of scrofulous children there would be nothing extraordinary in three of them getting tabes mesenterica—if there is no scrofula it is not correctly tabes mesenterica; it is really a scrofulous disease—from the appearance of the children who have been in the box there is no indication of scrofula—I would make one exception, I noticed that the child with defective speech (Mobbs) had rather an enlargement about the glands, that may be scrofulous—I have not examined bar—from the evidence I should say that the food supplied at this home was quite, insufficient; and even if it were sufficient in quantity it would be quite inadequate to support a proper condition of health, and would in many cases lead to a fatal result—I say that from my own experience—it is a food that contains an inadequate supply of nitrogen—the population of Ireland before the famine had a certain amount of fatty substance, which these children did not get at all—the potato is an insupportable diet—potatoes only must lead to disease and death; with milk you get the fat and the nitrogen: I am able to swear that potato diet only would kill anybody—with children of tender age the presence of food giving nitrogen is absolutely necessary—there was some nitrogen of course in their food, but not nearly sufficient; not sufficient to sustain life for any lengthened period—bread is one of the elements of diet as far as it goes; that is correct—the pickled cabbage could be very little good—I would not find fault with it as doing any harm; it is simply a little vegetable acid which would be rather good than otherwise—it would be no good as a nutritious diet—in this diet, as described, there was nothing else which supplied vegetable acid; therefore the cabbage would be rather good than otherwise, but it would not supply any nutrition to the tissues—as to the case of Kate Smith, after hearing the evidence of the sister and the other evidence, I believe that her illness was caused entirely by improper diet, and perhaps insufficient quantity—the evidence is not so clear as to the insufficient quantity as it is to the quality; that is undoubted—I am perfectly clear about it—in food of that quality a very much larger quantity is required to keep body and soul together than if you gave food of a proper quality—I attribute her illness entirely to the diet—from the evidence I have heard I consider the clothing and bedding quite inadequate; that would" increase the tendency to disease—warmth is a correlative; the less warmth the more food would be required—I have formed the opinion that Kate Smith died from starvation—the condition of the body after death, as spoken to by her sister, indicates gross neglect; I am speaking of the lice, the condition of the head, the sores in the head, and the itch—the complaint that her bones hurt her, indicates that she was exceedingly emaciated; there was no cushion for the bones, no muscle—the drawing-up of the knees is a usual condition in death from exhaustion—being beaten with a rope would be calculated to prejudice her health; it would produce shock to the system, and I think accelerate death.
Cross-examined. I never saw any of these children; I am simply giving my evidence upon the statements of the witnesses in Court, on the assumption that what they have stated is absolutely correct—I found my opinion that Kate Smith died from starvation, first upon the evidence of the sister, but I have taken the conjoint statements, as they all left an impression on my mind, as they would properly do—I have weighed the evidence in my mind to the best of my ability, and have formed my deductions from the whole, not from any special answer, and from the quantity and quality of food which the children had—I do not assume that they only had their own clothes as a covering; I will assume the utmost quantity of blankets that has been spoken of as true, and that they always had that quantity, then I am able to give evidence that the warmth was quite insufficient—there should be a blanket underneath as well as over in every case; it is not that it is required to keep the cold out, but to keep the heat in the body by preventing evaporation—I think if a child of a respectable working man, earning say 10s. a week, has not a blanket underneath, a sheet underneath, a blanket above, and a sheet and counterpane, I might fairly say that the parent has neglected the warmth of that child—I am not able to answer how working men manage; I am not an economist—in the weather we had last winter, if any working man did not supply a straw mattress, with a packing cloth, a blanket and sheet, I say he was neglecting his children, and I am ready to swear it—it is not for me to judge of what is criminal; I say he would be neglecting his children—if he could not do it, I cannot say how far he would be criminal; I simply state the broad fact that he would be neglecting the proper conditions—I say that anything under that, on the part of a person having the charge of a child, is neglect—I have formed my opinion, assuming the fullest amount of covering spoken to by anybody here—I have heard that nearly all the children were the children of destitute parents, or parents unable to provide for them—I have had very large experience in poor neighbourhoods—I was surgeon to a workhouse in Petty, France, for nine years, where we had the refuse of the population—I had no private practice among the poor—I have often visited their houses in the poorer parts of Westminster; I have seen some of the worst dens there, and where the people are working people—I have been in almost every house in the Broadway, Herman's Hill, Strutton Ground, and Peter Street and St. Ann's Lane—I have never seen the certificate that was given by Dr. Ayres to the police, which led to the removal of these children—I did not know there was one—if a child had the disease called tabes mesenterica she would waste away in the way we have heard, except as to the lice; that is an independent matter—she would arrive at the stage of the bones coming through the skin—I am now assuming a case in which the surrounding treatment was proper, but that there was active disease—assuming active scrofulous disease, and that the surroundings were right, the condition of emaciation would be the same, and death would probably occur—the legs in that case would be probably drawn up.
Re-examined. Assuming that it was true tabes mesenterica, the treatment I have heard proved, would undoubtedly accelerate the death—the appearance spoken to in the condition of Kate Smith would be the natural appear ance of children not scrofulous, but neglected in the way I have heard—I am able to determine on examination whether children are scrofulous.
By the JURY. I have seen cases where children have left workhouse
Tenth Sesschools and come home to their parents when they have met with treatment such as described; they are not very frequent; in fact I have never seen a case where I have known there has been evidence of an insufficient supply of food—I have seen many cases of starvation from a full supply of improper food, as much bread-and-butter and treacle as they could eat; I have seen starvation follow that, but I have never known a case where it has come to my knowledge that they have died or been ill from having an insufficient quantity of food; it may have occurred, of course, but it has not come home to my knowledge—children who have the run of the streets have a better chance than those living a debarred life; it is a natural thing that they should supplement the insufficiency of diet by a variety, and variety is necessary even with proper diet.
JOHN PETER LONG . I am medical officer of the Greenwich Union, 21, Broadway, Deptford—I visited the defendant's home twice in company with Mr. Pitcher on 14th and 22nd April—on the 14th I saw two children there—I noticed their clothing partly; I saw what they had on the upper part of their bodies—I saw they had on a body and a dress composed of a flimsy material and a* chemise; that was all—I think they were the two eldest children; Ellen Smith was one—I can corroborate Mr. Pitcher's evidence as to the state of the home—on 22nd April I examined the six children who were brought to me—they had lice in their heads, and eruptions caused by the lice and their eggs, and they were covered with itch—they appeared as if they had not been washed for a long time—I saw no indication of their having been medically treated—I mean there was no use of any ointment: it is quite possible that they may have been medically treated without my noticing it—they looked pale and flabby; the flesh was soft—they gave me the idea that they had not had sufficient fleshy food; they were deficient in muscle, feeble—some had. stays on and some not—they had merely the chemise and the body of the dress, and the under-clothing consisted of two or three skirts, not regular petticoats; they seemed to be old skirts of dresses in a ragged condition—I considered their clothing quite insufficient and most injurious to health—I saw the bedding; I consider that insufficient—I consider it would be most injurious to health to sleep on such bedding—I have seen the children two or three times since my first examination; they are looking in much better condition to-day—they have improved considerably in appearance and apparently in health.
Cross-examined. The bedding I saw represented a mattress or bed-tick about half filled with straw, on a bedstead, a sheet over it, another sheet and a very small rug of woollen material loosely woven together, and a not heavy'counterpane—I have had practice in this neighbourhood—I do not think there are many streets where working men have not half that accommodation—I swear that—there are a great number of persons out of work there; I suppose they are not all drunkards; I am afraid a great many are—some are honest, respectable men with large families—I should think as a rule they have that accommodation for their families—I am in the habit of visiting in the poverty-stricken districts, and I say as a rule that they have more sufficient clothing than I saw at the home—I am 32 years of age—I have heard of perfectly respectable working men sleeping on the floor, father, mother, and children all together—I don't know that it is very common, I am merely speaking of my own observation—it is not the rule; it is a most exceptional thing—I consider that bread-and-butter for breakfast,
rice and treacle for dinner, with occasional meat, and bread-and-butter before going to bed, is insufficient, and the quality of the food improper—I should think that all the children of the working classes in that neighbourhood are fed as well as that—I examined the children carefully—I did not find any marks of violence on their bodies, if there had been any I should have seen them—I saw no signs of a beating with a clothes-line, a poker, or a broomstick.
Re-examined. There might have been many severe beatings between 1st April and 22nd without leaving marks, unless they were very extensive bruises—I think I saw seven children in the home on 21st April—there was not sufficient proper bedding accommodation fox them—there were four bedsteads.
FRANCES SARAH OWEN . My name was formerly Verch—Georgina Verch was my daughter—she. would have been ten years old in February—she was in the home sometime before August last year—I can't say that I saw her between August and my removing her—I saw her but very seldom—I met her in the street in January—I had not seen her for six or seven weeks—there was an alteration in her appearance—I went to the Greenwich Police-court—I could not remove her that day; I went to Miss Addiscott's, but she would not see me—I saw her on the Friday following, the last day of January, at the home—I asked to see my child—she would not let me; I saw her afterwards—she was suffering very much from what I was told was the itch—I wanted to take her to a doctor to have her examined—the prisoner said she had her doctor who came to the home, and it was nothing of the kind, it was merely the severity of the weather; but her fingers were matted together up to the first joints, and I was sure it was the itch—she asked what I intended to do—I said I wanted to take her out, that I had been to a Magistrate, and I was to tell her that she was to let me see her, and if not I was to go back to him immediately—she said if I came at 5 o'clock the following Saturday I could have her—she asked if I knew that I was in arrears of payment for the child, half-a-crown a week—I said "Yes," but I did not think I was justified in paying anything as the child was so badly treated—when she found I had been to a Magistrate she said "Well, what you say is owing we will say nothing about if you will take no further notice of the treatment of Rose," and I took her away next day—when she went to the home she was in a very good state of health—when I took her away she was very thin, nothing but skin and bone, she had not the least atom of flesh on her bones and she was suffering from itch very badly—I took her to Dr. Cope—I saw several lice; her head was very bad, and she had some on her body—her back was bruised; they were recent bruises—Dr. Cope did not give her anything, he only just looked at her, she was in such a state he was afraid to touch her; I got what he ordered—she is a very different child now to what she was, she has improved since February—she was very dull and weak when she first came out—he ate her food very ravenously.
Cross-examined. She was not born in wedlock—I was not married when I took her to the home—I was married last November; before that I went out to work—I took her to the home because I had no one to look after her properly—I had to pay Miss Addiscott half-a-crown a week; I did not pay it all the time; I have paid her a great deal more than half a sovereign or a sovereign—sometimes I took it and sometimes I sent it by my brother—I
think I owed her altogether six months' money—I went pretty well every month until the latter part of the time—I did not see my child every time I went, Miss Addiscott always made some excuse—sometimes a month or two might elapse before I met with her—I sometimes saw her in the street, not alone, there were other girls with her—I spoke to her—I mentioned before the Magistrate about Miss Addiscott saying I was to take no further notice of the treatment—I have not had any talk with any one about the case since I was examined—I have not followed and abused Miss Addiscott, or hooted at her—I have heard others do it, I did not join in it—I did not go to the home so often during the latter part of the time because I thought of taking her out—my husband knew that the child was there when I married—I saw her in November; she did not complain, I believe she was afraid to complain—she was in the street with other children coming from school.
By the JURY. I did not get any receipt for the money I paid Miss Addiscott, she said it was not requisite, and that was the reason I left off my payments, and said she might as well come and ask me for the whole amount I owed—I did not consider that the child was properly, fed at last.
GEORGINA VERCH . I am ten years old—I was at Miss Addiscott's home when little Alice Maud Edgar died, and when the baby, Kate Verch, died—I had no butter to eat there, I had some bread and butter—we sometimes got breakfast at 10 o'clock—we had nothing for a long time after that—I went to the Board School—we had bread and butter in the evening; only now and then.
MR. GRAIN submitted that there was not sufficient evidence of criminal negligence to support the charge. He referred to a decision of Lord Justice Brett, in Beg. v. Nicholls, 13 Cox Criminal Cases, p. 75. BARON POLLOCK considered that there were two points, 1st, the relation existing between the prisoner and the child. It was sufficiently established in point of law that there was a duty on the part of the prisoner which she had undertaken to perform in a sufficient manner, the degree of that sufficiency was for the Jury: 2nd, to what extent a person having that duty is criminally responsible if that duty is neglected; that is, the Jury must find that she had a wicked mind in the sense that she was reckless or careless whether the child died or not; the true rule in such cases appeared to be this, whether what was done or omitted by tlie person having the cart of children, was of a character which to the knowledge of reasonable persons was such as would, or might probably, produce death. The case was one for the Jury to decide.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence.
LYDIA BAKER . I live at 153, Manor Road, Brockley—I first knew of Miss Addiscott's home for friendless girls about a year and a half ago—I went there once or twice, but not inside the house—I have had little girls come to me from the home—Eliza Crabbe was one, and I have also seen three or four others at my house at different times—I think it was about July last year that Eliza Crabbe first came to do a little few odd jobs about the house, she came for about a fortnight, but not on Sunday—the other children came at various times collecting money and so forth—they looked to me in very good condition, and Eliza Crabbe seemed very happy; she was fat and did not appear to be very hungry when she had her breakfast—the other
children just called in with a message or two, and on one occasion they came to ask me for a few flowers on the death of a child—I noticed nothing particular about them one way or the other—I am quite disinterested in this matter, I know nothing of Miss Addiscott—none of the girls ever complained to me of the home or of any violence; they spoke of Miss Addiscott in terms of friendship—I don't recollect ever seeing Ellen Smith.
Cross-examined. It was whilst I was without a servant that Eliza Crabbe came—I cannot be sure of the time, I think it may have been in August—she came about 8 o'clock in the morning and remained till about 9 o'clock—the children only came once with collecting cards—there were two of them, they stayed about ten minutes—I could not tell which children they were who came for the flowers—that was all the opportunity I had of seeing them.
Re-examined. Eliza Crabbe came in the morning for about an hour—I think the last time I saw any of the children was about Christmas.
HARRY PHILLIPS, JUN . I conduct the business of my father, a pawn-broker, 62, High Street, Deptford, that is three or four minutes from Miss Addiscott's home—she has never pawned anything with me—there are two or three other pawnbrokers in High Street—we have another shop in Deptford—I can safely say that Miss Addiscott has not pawned anything there—I have known her for about five years—I have come forward voluntarily since last night—about nine months ago I gave her some remnants of linsey and flannel—I took them myself to the home, and I afterwards saw the linsey made up into frocks on the children—I Have frequently seen them about the neighbourhood; I saw them every Sunday or two coming from church with the stuff I had given them made up into frocks—I have seen Miss Addiscott walking behind them to church up to about the end of the year—I noticed nothing in them to attract my attention, they looked comfortable as far as I could see.
Cross-examined. I merely knew the children by sight, going to church—I have seen 14 or 16 at a time, six or seven couples walking in a row—I did not know the family, only Miss Addiscott—there are no other pawnbrokers of the name of Phillips except ourselves in Deptford—we employ 12 assistants at both shops—if she had pawned at the other shop I should have heard it—people frequently pawn in false names.
GEORGE FREDERICK THOMAS . I am a coal agent, at Deptford—I supplied Miss Addiscott with coals in half tons—she had a half ton on 19th November, another on 18th December, and another on 24th January; none after that from me—I have been to the house to collect the money, and have frequently seen the children there—I saw nothing unusual in their condition; it was a very humble home, very little furniture—I have frequently been into the front sitting-room; it was very humbly furnished—I have frequently met the children in the street; I saw nothing which Jed me to communicate with the authorities—I am married and have a family. Cross-examined. I can identify several of the children that I have spoken to in the street; the girl Smith for one, and she has several times answered the door to me—I supplied Mrs. Addiscott with coals as well, from November to January, somewhere about the same time I supplied Miss Addiscott—Miss Addiscott was supposed to pay weekly for the coals, 2s. or 1s. 6d. a time, as she could afford it.
Street, Deptford—I attend to the business—Miss Addiscott dealt with us for bread for the home daily; the children fetched it two or three times a day, three or four quarterns a day—I know Miss Addiscott; I have been to the home and frequently slept there for a week together on a visit—I slept with her in the front parlour when the children were ill—I was there on the Saturday night before Kate Smith died; she was lying in the back parlour on a bed—I cannot swear to every article she had on, but there was a sheet, a blanket, and a counterpane on the bed—she was very ill indeed—Miss Addiscott was in the room with her—I was not there when Mr. Finlay came—I saw a bottle of medicine on the mantelpiece, and Miss Addiscott gave her a dose while I was there—I have been to the home every day during the whole time Miss Addiscott had it open—I took an interest in it, especially when the children were ill—I never saw any beating or slapping of the children by her; she always treated them very kindly while I was there, and never attempted to slap or beat them in any way—my father has lived in the neighbourhood nine years, and is well known in Deptford—I always thought the home was conducted very well indeed—Miss Addiscott used to like the children very much; everything I saw there went on very satisfactorily—I was there every day in the winter; they had fires every day when it was very cold—I never saw the children pick up cabbage stumps in the street; I have seen them pick up orange peel, which hundreds of children will do; my own brothers and sisters have done it.
Cross-examined. My father was bail for Miss Addiscott the first time; the second week he was refused; I don't know whether he has been a bankrupt—I am not engaged to be married to Miss Addiscott's brother—I have been keeping company with him three years, and am now; he is an engineer—I went to Miss Addiscott's to keep her company when the children were ill—I was not there at each of the deaths; I saw Kate Smith when she was very ill and after she died; I was there when the others died—I don't remember the children being removed in January—I knew of Mr. Phillips going there—the blankets and counterpanes were not brought into the home after he had been; they were there for months and months before that, I swear; I cannot swear as to one or two blankets, but I saw seven or eight—I never saw any any itch on the children, nor any lice nor any bruises—I never saw Mrs. Addiscott protect the children against the prisoner's violence.
ELIZABETH ADDISCOTT . My husband is engaged in Her Majesty's Customs—I am the mother of the prisoner; she first started this home in July, 1877, she is now 22 years of age; she had a little money left her by her grandmother, I cannot tell the amount—I live three or four. minutes' walk from the home in Douglas Street, a private house—before my daughter opened the home she took a good deal of interest in these matters—after she opened it I went there every morning to see her—for the first two or three weeks I don't think she had more than two children, the numbers gradually increased—at one time I think she had as many as 14 or thereabouts; I was in the habit of going about the house and assisting her daily, up to the end of April—I have eight children—I had nothing to do with the money matters—I have been there when the children have had their meals—they had regular meals—they had bread and butter and tea for breakfast, sometimes bread and treacle—I have seen them have meat and potatoes for dinner, and currant pudding and boiled rice, and I have seen
them have soup, not on the same day, sometimes one, and sometimes the other—they dined in the front parlour during the winter; there was a fire there—my daughter would be with them superintending and giving them their dinner; she kept no servant, only a charwoman or washerwoman—she did the cooking herself—they had bread and butter with their tea—they slept in the two pair front room—they had straw beds, with two sheets, one blanket, a counterpane, and two pillows on each bed; I have seen them with my own eyes—I have never seen my daughter beat the children, she was always kind and affectionate to them—there is no pretence for saying that I ever had occasion to interfere between her and the child she was beating—I never saw her beat a child with a clothes' line, a poker, or a broomstick—the children were fond of. me and came to me occasionally; they never made any complaint to me, and I have had one with me for three or four days together from morning till night, and if she had had a complaint she would have been sure to have made it to me—I have never received coals that my daughter has paid for, I am thankful to say I don't require it—I recollect the illness of Kate Smith; I saw her the day her mother came with her to the home, she was a very slight delicate girl; her mother said that she was in her 13th year then—I thought she was very little for that age—I saw her every day from the time she came in up to the time she took to her bed—she was in a bed in the back parlour, it was an iron bedstead, with two sheets, a blanket, counterpane and two pillows, as I have already stated; by night we should put an extra blanket on her if cold, but she was close by the fire; we used to have a fire in that room—Dr., Ayres and his assistant both attended her; Dr. Finlay saw her on the Saturday evening, as she died on the Sunday morning—the doctor paid her every attention and I myself attended on her day and night—it was my custom every morning to make her something and take it. her—I would cut her a dinner from off my own table and take it her; I would make her a custard, or a pudding, or anything that I thought her appetite would take; she was properly treated—it is not true that after her death the insects crawled from her head and body, and had to be picked off by her sister—I laid her out, and so I did the other two. I did nothing with her hair; that was taken off five or six weeks before she died, so that her head might be kept clean—she had long hair, and it was thought best to cut it short—when I laid her out there were no lice or insects crawling about her bed and over her body—there was not the sign of such a thing on her, she was kept too clean—my two daughters also partially assisted in these matters—I never saw any bruises or marks on the children—Mr. Bottomley, of High Street, Deptford, acted as the undertaker—she died on the Sunday, and she was put in the coffin on the Monday night between 8 and 9 o'clock—that would be about the proper time—I have had the misfortune to bury a child.
Cross-examined. My second daughter Emily fetched me on Sunday, 7th April, after 12 o'clock—she did not tell me that she had arranged that the door was to be kept against any one calling, and that I should have to call through the keyhole for Nelly Smith to let me in—I had not to call through the keyhole—Emily sat up with Kate Smith—I did not cut off the hair of the dead child, and burn it on the fire—the prisoner did not say that the smell of the burning hair was so much that she could not bear it—no hair was cut off after the death; I am sure of that—I remember Mr. Carttar,
the Coroner, coming to the home; I don't remember the day:—I don't know that I pointed to a saucepan on the fire, and said that the dinner was on the fire—I might have done so—upon their looking into the saucepan, and saying that there was only clear water there, I did not to my knowledge say that the rice had to be put in—I might have said so—I did not know that the Coroner was coming—Mr. Phillips was with him, and other gentlemen strangers—I cannot remember about the rice—I should not like to swear that I did not say that the rice had to be put in—they did not ask me to show where the rice was kept, nor did I say that I could not produce it because there was none in the house—my daughter was not present at this time—I was not asked to produce the rice, nor did I say that it was not in the house—I might have said so; I could not swear it—I told the Coroner that my name was Bowen—I said that because I did not know who he was—they came in a very stiff manner, and I wanted to know what they wanted—Bowen is my maiden name—before they went away I told them that I was Miss Addiscott's mother—the Coroner said "If you are the mother of Miss Addiscott surely your name is Addiscott," and then I told him who I was—he did not rebuke me for saying what was untrue—he did not reprove me—I think he said "Oh, you are Miss Addiscott's mother!" and I said "Yes," and he said "Why have you not told me so?"—he said nothing more that I know of—he asked me to show him the bedrooms, which I did—the children had breakfast sometime before 9 o'clock, and their midday meal about 1 o'clock, for those who went to school—I have seen them at tea at 5 or 5.30—there are. six members of my family living with me in Douglas Street—I have two daughters younger than the prisoner, aged 13 and 20, living at home, and Emily and Hannah—I keep no servant—we generally have our dinner between 12 and 1 o'clock, and tea at 4 o'clock—I did not go to the home at every meal; I was in and out—I don't think I was ever there all day at their three meals—I always had my meals at home—Mrs. Swale was the washerwoman who used to come there—the prisoner lived with my mother in Devonshire from a child up to about 14 or 15 years of age, after that she lived at home with me and her father—my husband had a distress put in for the Queen's taxes the day he was going to the Court, a week or two ago, but the money was paid when he came home—we occupied the whole of the house—I did not sign as being present at the death of Kate Smith—I was not present at her death; my daughter Emily was—I never saw any bruises on Kate Verch or any child—I never interferred to protect a child, or said "Leave off."
Re-examined. My husband is still employed by the Customs, and has been for the last 36 years—the distress was put in out of spite—before I knew who Mr. Cart tar was I gave my maiden name, and when he told me his position and name I said I was the prisoner's mother, and treated him as a gentleman, and went with him and showed him over the place—three persons came, I did not know who they were—I afterwards heard that they were the relieving officer, the inspector, and the Coroner—I heard that there had been inquiries, because the inspector had been there—I received some information as to who had directed the distress to be put in.
By the COURT. I did not know who the three persons were when they came—I saw two gentlemen at the gate one night, I think one bank holiday—they were the same two that I saw afterwards, but I had never seen the Coroner before; they did not tell me who they were when first they came, and I did not ask them.
HANNAH ADDISOOTT . I am the prisoner's sister—I am 27 years of age—I know the home, and was frequently there—I was living with my mother the first 18 months, the last of the time I was with my sister at the home assisting her—I know Ellen Smith—I was at the Greenwich Police-court when this matter was first commenced with a charge of assault on Ellen Smith—I was present when she alleged that she had some coffee thrown over her at the home on 6th March—you appeared on behalf of my sister—I never saw my sister strike her with a poker or throw hot coffee on her chest—we have not had any coffee in the home since last Christmas—I was daily there, and have often seen the children at our own house—Helen Smith was at our house four days out of seven—I never saw my sister lay a finger on the children—I never stood between her and them when she has been beating them; I never had occasion to do so, she never beat them—they never complained to me in any form—I have never received any pecuniary benefit from this home, nor has my sister as far as I know—she slept at the home, and me or my other sister; she never slept alone—the front room where she slept was very humbly furnished—we had everything for our use in the home—she slept on an iron bedstead which folded up in the day—I was there during last winter, off and on—there were fires in the front and back parlours—I was present when Kate Smith took to her bed—I was with her during the three months of her illness—I attended mostly to her—she was a very delicate child when my sister took her, and very slight—I used to wash her every morning, make her bed, and attend upon her during her illness—I was not present when she died, I saw her the night before—she had medical attendance, Dr. Ayres or his assistant—I saw her after death—there were no bruises upon her—I never saw my sister beat her with a clothes line; it is utterly untrue, she never did so—for breakfast the children that were well, used to have sop, and for dinner on Sundays roast meat and potatoes, and boiled suet pudding, that was the rule; I can't swear exactly what they had on other days, but they used to have rice twice a week, soup once, and baked currant pudding, and sometimes a pie with potatoes and meat in it—we used to vary their dinners every day—they were treated with every kindness, as much as if with their own parents—I never saw my sister lift her hand to the children, I positively swear it.
Cross-examined. They had every nourishment, and were perfectly clean—they were clad in winter as well as most children; they had a flannel petticoat, two skirts, their dresses and an apron—I was not sleeping with my sister the Saturday night Kate Smith died—I sat up with her on the Friday night—I did not hear my sister direct Nelly Smith to keep the door closed because the moans of Kate disturbed her—Nelly Smith never slept in the room with her sister while she was ill—she did not sleep by her side—I am positive of that—my sister did not see me at all on the Sunday morning—I was at home in Douglas Street—she did not come to call my mother; my sister Emily did—I went to the home on Sunday evening, not before—I have seen lice in the children's heads when we received them—they were generally dirty and ragged; they improved—I never saw a bruise on Kate Smith—I never saw the itch matting the hand together up to the first knuckle—I have not done anything to earn my livelihood.
Re-examined. I have always lived at home with my father and mother.
Cross-examined. I went to the home on Saturday morning, 6th April, and remained there the whole day—I never went out—I had supper with my sister in the back parlour, where Kate Smith wag—we stayed there all night with her—I swear that—the fire was there all night—Ellen Smith was not there at all, only me and my sister—I had on several occasions stayed up all night with my sister—the child died on Sunday morning at a quarter or half-past 12, mid-day, just as they were coming out of chapel—I had not left her at all—she was alive up to the middle of the Sunday: that I swear—my sister was there all the morning—I went and fetched my mother a few minutes after, leaving my sister there—she did not in my hearing tell Nellie Smith to keep the door against any one that called, and that when she returned she would call Nellie through the keyhole; nothing of the kind—I saw Kate Verch—I was not there when she died; I was there a few minutes after her death—I never saw any bruise upon her, or upon any child—I never saw my sister strike one of the children—the food was plentiful in quantity and excellent in quality—I was there when they had their meals—I don't know whether they improved in health; I am not a doctor—I think Mrs. Toway came and made complaints—I was not there—I cannot tell how many children were taken away on complaints made.
JAMES WILLIAM AYRES . I am a licentiate physician practising at Deptford and the neighbourhood, and a M.R.C.S.—I first became acquainted with the Home for Friendless Children some time in September last year—I had not the slightest knowledge of Miss Addiscott before I was called in professionally—I was called in off and on from that time up to April last, on a number of occasions; myself and assistant together paid from 50 to 60 visits—occasionally the children were brought to me at my surgery by Miss Addiscott, and I prescribed for them—I saw Kate Smith; I think it was about seven or eight days before her death that they called my attention to that particular case—she was suffering from the very worst form of scrofula—she was thoroughly wasted, thoroughly emaciated; very large head, and every symptom of scrofula that there could possibly be; in fact, what is known in the profession as quite the old man appearance—I hold that scrofula must necessarily be hereditary—she presented the appearance of being a scrofulous subject for some time previous to my seeing her—I should think I might have seen her perhaps five times—I prescribed for her what I considered to be right and proper—I sent medicine, not cod liver oil; I never send cod liver oil if I suggest it; I merely order it—I believe I did prescribe it; I did not see her taking any—I remember advising it, and seeing it in previous cases in the same home—I rather think I saw her last, not my assistant—I saw her after death on the Sunday in the back parlour—I was sent for by Miss Addiscott on account of the death—she came to me for my certificate on the Sunday evening, and I said I would come and see the child—I saw no indication of lice crawling about the bed or the head—I did not take particular notice of her head when I saw her before her death—she had not long hair—I believe the hair of all the children was cut close; I cannot charge my recollection, but generally at the home I have seen the hair cut close, as generally with children—it is always so in every Institution, to keep the head clean, and it was so in this home—I saw the body before I gave the certificate—there were no bruises upon it—I simply looked at the child; I did not examine the body—I did not notice anything—I noticed the linen in the bed—I have a very large practice amongst the poor classes
of my neighbourhood—I have seen considerably inferior accommodation in the houses of honest working men which I have professionally visited—the place did not look over-clean, I must say that—I have seen considerably greater squalor in working men's homes.
Cross-examined. I believe the mortality in the metropolis is usually returned at 23 in 1,000, including all diseases—3 children out of 15 in a house, within six months would give about 200 in 1,000—I have had nine die in one house from smallpox—I have constantly known tabes mesenterica carry off three persons in the same house within six months, without the slightest negligence—I did not make any charge for these visits; I think all we have had for the whole attendance has been 7s. 6d.—there had been a bill sent in, but we took it to be so thoroughly charitable that I said, "It is no use going on like this; at least, they ought to pay for the bottles, and if not we had better give it up"—I had not, to my recollection, attended Kate Smith before the time I mention—I have a memorandum in my books of my attendance on her—I have not said within a very few days that there was no means in my book of identifying the visits to any particular child—I showed Mr. Wontner the books from September, day by day almost until we came to the case of Kate Smith, and that was after Christmas—there was an entry as to one child named Ernest, for inflamnation of the rectum—I should generally put it down to "Girls' Home"—I should only derive my knowledge as to which child it was by the medicine I gave—Kate Smith's name does not appear, that was after Christmas—the name of Ernest, a boy, appears—I think that was Phillips—all the rest were girls—I will not charge my memory whether that is the only name in the books from September—the books are there to be examined if necessary—I did not suggest that it would be desirable for the authorities to interfere and take the children away from the home—this (produced) is my certificate. (Read; "21st April, 1879.—This is to certify that from my medical knowledge of the Girls' Home, managed by Miss Addiscott, at Deptford, I have come to the conclusion that from want of funds or other reasons the children in the home, to a large extent, suffer from want of nourishment, considering that nearly all the children are poor, disposed to scrofula and tubercle, and in such cases efficient nourishment and warmth are most desirable elements in the treatment of such diseases.") I do not know whether the persons I gave that to are the authorities of the Greenwich Board—I think three detectives came to my house, Inspector Phillips was one—I did not write that voluntarily or under pressure; I wrote it at their suggestion—they asked if I would give a certificate to get these children away from the home—I said "I don't see what I have to do with the home or the certificate"—they said "They had been there with the Coroner and Dr. Long, and they believed the children were all starved"—I said "If that is your belief the best thing will be to get them away, and, rather than allow any suffering I will give you a certificate with pleasure"—it was my opinion that there was not sufficient warmth—I do not know of proceedings against Miss Addiscott after that by the guardians—I telegraphed or wrote to the Home Secretary—I did not introduce the solicitor for the defence to Miss Addiscott—I did not introduce my own solicitor to her—I did it exactly in this way, I have never seen Mr. Clark or her together in my life; he is my solicitor—he has been my solicitor six months—I did not suggest that he should be
employed by Miss Addiscott—I did not sit by his side at the Court and suggest questions to be put on her behalf—I sat by his side because I was interested in the case—I attended once I think—I certainly did not prompt Mr. Clark—I thought this was a case of starvation and that I had been duped at the time; that was my impression when the case was brought forward—the conclusion I have come to since then is this, that the children might have been better cared for if they bad had more money; but I came to the conclusion that these children have not been starved—I came to the conclusion that it was a case of starvation and that I had been duped, when everybody in Deptford was talking about it; I don't know that that was at the time I was at the police-court; it was the general topic in Deptford—I never made up my mind that it was a death from starvation, and that I had been duped—I might have so expressed myself on 10th July; it was my impression—I said if it were true about the collections made by the children who brought in moneys to Miss Addiscott that it was a case where she had neglected her duty; that is my belief now—I do not believe that the children were starved even under those circumstances, but that death was slightly accelerated, if sufficient funds were coming in, because I attended them as a matter of charity, and if they were collecting 8s. or 9s. a day they certainly ought to have hail better comforts than they appear to have had—I made inquiry in September about the funds of the home—I attended Alice Edgar, the first child, who died on 12th November, a considerable number of times; I can't say how many; I gave her every proper attention—I have not said that I had not been to the home more than twenty times altogether; I should say altogether I might have been there personally 35 or 40—I cannot charge my memory exactly, because when I was driving past I generally stopped there—I noticed that the children suffered from itch—I noticed that when a child was brought to me with the itch; I think that was after Christmas—I forget the name of the child—I said "I really think it is scarcely justifiable to bring the children here; we are receiving no payment for it; you had better take them to the hospital," and I believe she did—I don't think the itch was general—I noticed that the children looked very bare—it never occurred to me that such a thing as starvation was going on; they looked clean, but bare—when I said death was slightly accelerated I would make this proviso with regard to the funds, that is to say, you shall have a person to-day suffering from scrofula, and by great kindness, attention, warmth, and nourishment that person may live two years, whereas being destitute in every way and impoverished, that person might not live two months—I never went upstairs to the bedrooms or to the basement till yesterday—I generally saw the children in the front room, ground floor—supposing them to be seated on a form in the front kitchen without a fire, in an inclement winter, I should not consider that proper frentuieut; it would be very unkind treatment—I attended the death of little Kate Verch—I was not called in when she had a fit—I am not sure that I saw her within 24 hours of her death, but I did see her constantly—I certified that as a case of tabes mesenteria—I judged myself that she had had it from her birth—I came to that conclusion without inquiring of any one; I don't require to inquire of the parents in such a case; I have had considerable experience in such cases—I attended the child constantly, as I did the other one—I remember the circumstance of the child having a fit—I was told of at the
next day—I saw no marks on the child—I have never seen any marks of ill-treatment or anything of the sort, or I should have spoken about it directly.
Re-examined. I say if the children collected 3l. 10s. a week that money was not expended properly—if they were really poor, and it was a charitable affair altogether, I say they were properly treated according to the means at command—from beginning to end I have been perfectly open as to what I had to say about the matter to all parties—I was visited by Mr. Wontner before this trial commenced, and I gave him my books and notes; he came to my house and stopped with me an hour, and both my assistants were present and gave him every information—he desired to see the home, and he went with me and I broke open the padlock and we went in and he inspected the rooms and bedrooms—I afterwards received a letter from him, stating that I was not required.
By MR. BESLEY. After he had seen my books I said "We are very close to the home, and we can see it"—Mr. Finlay was with us—one thing I may say, that both Mr. Wontner, myself, and Mr. finlay were fairly staggered at the unexceptional good condition of the beds in the bedroom, and the decency of the place generally—that does not apply to the water-closet; the sanitary arrangements were very bad indeed, but the bedrooms were excessively nice.
By MR. GRAIN. I have been in some thousands of homes where they were far worse—before I wrote that certificate it had been suggested to me by everybody that the children were being starved; it was the common topic, and upon that I imagined I had been duped—my opinion now is that death was accelerated provided they had funds to carry it on.
By the COURT. A poor person might die of consumption, but if he had 500l. to go to Mentone he might survive; that is exactly what I mean—seeing the condition in which these children were, nothing could have saved them from death; the best of treatment could not have saved them in my opinion, but life might have been prolonged—I am perfectly sure this baby had always been scrofulous—I am perfectly ready to argue that scrofula must always be hereditary; it may never be set fire to, but there is always a spark in the system ready to be ignited—I have noticed fires when I have been there—I think I was only in the back parlour once—I noticed a fire constantly in the front parlour last winter—I have seen children sitting round the fire, and one nursing the baby that died—that was the usual way in which I saw the baby—I did not see Miss Addiscott most of the times when I went there—I saw her a considerable number of times—I walked in—the place was always open to anybody—when I did see her I thought she acted with perfect honesty in the matter, and to the best of her ability in the treatment of the children in every way—I thought she was excessively kind to the children—I did not examine the body of the dead child; I simply saw it lying on a bedstead in the back room on a sheet, with a sheet over it—it looked very proper and clean.
Cross-examined. I did not go to the home on Saturday, 6th April—I went four or five days before the child's death—I did not see it after death—I might have said that I was not surprised at the inquiry with regard to the home, and that it ought to lave taken place long before—I can't call to my memory who I said it to—it is very likely I did say so when the excitement was so strong
—I don't think I said it was so bad that I did not like to go there—I hare only been once, at 11 at night—if I had known that Kate Smith was dying at mid-day on Sunday I should have gone to satisfy the friends; I always go if called.
By MR. GRAIN. After the inquiry was instituted by the guardians there was enormous excitement; I have seen a crowd of 200 persons collected outside the home—there was a great deal of hearsay going or, adverse to the prisoner—I heard it—I have had no communication with the prisoner or any of her friends in the matter—I have attended Miss Addiscott By the Court. I went four or five times before the death—her condition was such that by no treatment could her life have been preserved—I thought then that she would not live till morning—I saw Mrs. Addiscott that evening attending to the child in the back room; there was a fire—I examined the child, she was clean, and the bed linen also—that was the only time I was there when the children were there—I do not consider I could have been of any service if I had attended the child again.
MRS. ADDISOOTT (Re-examined). My daughter paid the rent of the home—I think it was about 25l. a year—I think some rent was due.
WILLIAM PILOHER (Re-examined). I do not know the rateable value of the house, I think it would be about 19l. or 20l.—I don't know that the post-office people pay 20l. out of it—the taxes would be about 25s. or 30s. a quarter.
DR. AYRES (Re-examined). I do not remember turning down the sheet from the dead body of Kate Smith on the Sunday so as to see whether the body had stiffened—it was about 9:30 in the evening when I saw it.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments against the Prisoner which were postponed to the next Session.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. GILLESPIE Prosecuted.
JOSEPH RIBBONS . I am a marine store dealer, of Bridge Street, Greenwich—on 25th June the prisoner brought me 8 lb. of horsehair, which he said were his perquisites—this is some of it (produced)—I gave him 6s. 8d. for the 8 lb.—I knew him as a respectable man in the employ of the Tramways Company.
ALFRED SIMMONS . I am in the service of the London Tramways Company—the prisoner was then horse-keeper—he had 70 horses in his charge—I noticed about the middle of June that their tails were very thin—I had to cut them off to make them look decent—I charged the prisoner with pulling them—he said that he had pulled some of his own—we had some American horses with very long tails, some of them dragged the ground—this hair is similar to theirs; it is pulled hair.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. On 24th June I gave Albert Woodley the privilege of trimming the horses' fetlocks, but not their tails—he is not here; he quitted our service the next week after you were given in custody.
JAMES CAMPBELL . I was horse-keeper in the employ of the London Tramways Company, 52, Greenwich Road—I have left now—the prisoner was a horsekeeper there—I saw him pull the tails of a little chesnut horse
and a bay horse in May—some of this hair may be from a chesnut herse—on 25th June, seeing him with a parcel of hair tied up in a handkerchief, some of which was sticking out, I said "Well, Jim, you are doing well;" he never spoke, but walked on and left—I made no report, it was not my place—he said that he sold it to the man who buys our dead horses, but he did not say the name—I saw him taking out two parcels on 24th June, but I cannot say what was in them.
Cross-examined. I saw you do more than was necessary to the horses' tails—I saw you do it with a rake, with four teeth; if you had done it with a comb only I should not have spoken about it.
By the JURY. Rakes are not commonly used to horses, I never saw one used for combing the manes, and the Company do not allow them—the rake has four prongs and a handle, the teeth come downwards; it belonged to the prisoner, he was there years before me, and he claimed it as his.
The Prisoner. I found it on the Company's premises. Re-examined. The foreman had to cut the horses' tails to make them look decent to the public, they were so scandalously pulled—it was not necessary to remove the hair to get their tails in order, and if that amount of hair did come away the prisoner had no right to dispose of it; he ought to return it to the office.
ALFRED SIMMONS (Re-examined). No rakes are kept in the Company's service, but a small quantity comes out with the curry comb—orders are not given to the horse-keepers when they come into the employ that the hair combed out is to be taken into the office—I have been there 12 years, and have taken in 2,000 horses, and never saw one pulled like that—the prisoner has been there 18 months, not as horse-keeper but as feeder.
Prisoner's Defence. It is a horse-keeper's perquisite to have what he combs from the tails and manes; is it likely that I should steal hair and tell Campbell that I was going to sell it to a person who is employed by the Company every day?
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
CHARLES HAYSTEAD . I am a boot manufacturer of 24, Plumstead Road—on 3rd June the prisoner came and said that she wanted a pair of boots and a pair of shoes for Mrs. Alford—I asked her it she was servant there, she said yes, she had been there about 10 months—she wanted them immediately, as Mrs. Alford wanted to go to London—I let her have them, and she took them away.
PATRICK DAVIS (Police Sergeant). I took the prisoner and told her she would be charged with obtaining six pairs of boots from three places—she said, "I know all about it"—I asked her what she did with the boots—she said, "You had better find them."
Prisoner's Defence. The note that I took was not written by me, but by somebody whose company I got into.
GUILTY . She was further charged with having been convicted at Woolwich in October, 1877, to which she
PLEADED GUILTY>.*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
HARRIET MARGARET O'NEIL . I am the prisoner's wife—we had been' living separate for some time and on 14th June he came to ask me to live with him again—I said, "I will if you will alter and behave well to me," and I took him back and he lived with me for five days, when we parted again on 19th June—he was continually coming to the house to me, and on Saturday, 12th, we had a quarrel and I took out a summons against him on the 15th—a little before 10 p.m., on the 19th July, he came down in the kitchen where I was living and struck me, and then stabbed me in the breast with a knife—I cannot say whether he spoke or not—I did not see the knife, hut have seen it since.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You came one Monday morning, but I do not recollect if it was the 14th, and asked me to live with you as I had promised, and I said I would do so if you would get a furnished room—you told me you had done so and it would be ready that night, and I said I would come, but I only said that through fear and to get rid of you, as we were alone in the kitchen—I would not go when you came for me—I heard you come after, but I did not see you till the night you stabbed me.
THOMAS ALEXANDER MITCHELL . I am a surgeon, at Woolwich, and was called to the police-station soon after 10 p.m., and found Mrs. O'Neil bleeding from an incised wound on the left side of the chest, about one and a half inches long and three-quarters of an inch deep above the right breast—this knife (produced) would inflict such a wound—I considered it a dangerous wound, but it was not very dangerous.
GEORGE MILLS EDWARDS . I live at 19, Rope Yard, Woolwich, and was in the house of Mrs. O'Neil at 10 p.m., on 19th July, and saw the prisoner run at her and stab her with a knife—he said nothing—I ran upstairs when he came out of the door—he said he was too drunk—he was the worse for liquor.
WILLIAM REGAN . I am a shoemaker in Union Street, Woolwich, and know the prisoner by sight—he was in my shop on 19th July, about 4.16 p.m., and this knife was there then, but I did not see it afterwards.
EDWARD WHITTICK . (Policeman R 178). I was called to the house of Mrs. O'Neil, about 10 p.m. on 19th, and asked her what was the matter—she pulled her dress aside and I saw she was stabbed—I saw the prisoner afterwards in a public-house in Bernard Street, and said, "I shall take you in custody for stabbing your wife, where is the knife?"—he said he gave it to a man standing by—the man was there and pulled this knife out of his pocket.
The Prisoner in his Statement before the Magistrate said that he went to prison in December, and on coming out found that his wife had been keeping company with a lot of West Kent Militiamen during his absence, and made his house a brothel and disposed of his furniture, and went to lite with another man at Woolwich; that she promised to give up her evil habits, and he remained with her a few days, when he caught her carrying on with another man and lost his temper.
The prisoner in his defence further stated that on 7th December, 1878, his wife had him put in prison for threatening her, and he repeated his statement about his wife's conduct that he remonstrated with her, and the other man struck him, but afterwards tried to get her to return to him. He took a furnished room and she would not come to him, and he was driven to drink by her conduct and was out of his mind and did not know what he was doing, and had no intention of injuring her.
HARRIET MARGARET O'NEIL (Re-examined). I never went with the West Kent Militiamen—he never charged me with it till the day he was taken—I know a man named Dennison, but have never lived in the same house with him or in the same street, and I deny that I have had letters from him.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. METCALFE, Q.C., and BAGGALLAY Prosecuted.
HARRIET PICKTHORNE . I am servant to Miss Brown, Higham House, Shooter's Hill Road, Blackheath—on 23rd December I wrote this letter (produced), and put it in an envelope, enclosing 1 1/4 yards of ribbon, and addressed it to "Mrs. J. Pickthorne, Hatherley Fields, near Gloucester," and handed it to my fellow-servant, Grace Miller, to post it, giving her two packets at the same time and the money for the postage.
GRACE MILLER . I remember Pickthorne giving me two brown-paper packets and a letter to post on Christmas eve—the letter was addressed to Mrs. Pickthorne—I took them into the office at Shooter's Hill Road, stamped them, and put the letter in the letter box—Boecher was on duty there and weighed the packets for me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am positive I put the letter into the letter box with other letters, and did not leave it with the parcels behind the counter.
SARAH PICKTHORNEM . I am the wife of Mr. Thomas Pickthorne, Hatherley Fields, near Gloucester, and Harriet is my daughter—I received two parcels from her through the post at Christmas, but did not at the same time receive a letter, and have not received any letter containing ribbon.
ROBERT BRADFORD . I am travelling clerk in the Missing Letter Department—in consequence of complaints at Shooter's Hill Branch I instructed Poliee-officer Fry to search the prisoner on 4th July—Fry took from him a bunch of keys—I accompanied the prisoner to his lodgings, 28, Bedford Place, Shooter's Hill Road, and saw him unlock a hat-box there, and found in it the first part of the letter produced, and subsequently the second sheet—I said "How did this come here?"—he said "I don't know"—I said "Do you know anybody living at Higham House?"—he said "No"—I said "This letter appears to have contained something, and is I believe a post-letter; I shall want some satisfactory explanation as to how it came here"—he said "A young woman left it one evening on the counter at the office"—I said "You had no business to break it open"—he said "It contained a piece of blue ribbon; it was not properly fastened down or addressed"—
I said "Then you ought to have sent it to the Returned Letter Office"—he said "Yes, I know that, but I meant to have returned it to the young woman herself. I forgot it was here"—I said "Do you know where the ribbon is and the envelope?" and he said "No"—I said "Where is Higham House?" and he said it was about two minutes' walk from his lodgings—I subsequently charged him.
PETER RICE . I was receiver at Shooter's Hill Road Post-office last Christmas, and the prisoner was employed under me, and was on duty there on 23rd and 24th December, and had access to the letters posted on that day, and it was his duty to clear the box—there was no one else.
The prisoner in his defence stated that the letter was found on the counter with-out any address, and neither sealed or stamped, and it was placed aside in the office, and he put it in his pocket, intending to take it to the girl, and over-looked it; but was certain he mentioned it to Mr. Rice at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Field
MR. DENISON Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.
HARRY SHEPHERD . I am a travelling musician—I am married—I have have no fixed abode; I am always travelling—I came up from Brighton on Monday—I have known the prisoner two or three months—I became acquainted with him by stopping at his coffee-house in Oakley Street about half a dozen times—my wife does not travel with me; she does not live with me—I am 22 years of age—on 3rd July at 2 a.m. I was sitting in the coffee-shop humming a song; I had been to a race meeting, and came in that night—the prisoner had unpleasant words with his mother and she went to bed; he then came into my box, and sat on the opposite seat; I Was looking at a hole in the ceiling, and asked him what it was—he said it was a ventilator, and then leaning forward said "Would not this place burn well? I will pay you well if you will set tire to it, for I am well insured"—I said "Oh, would you?"—some one came in, he was called away, and I want to bed; later on in the day he went and bought a glass oil lamp—I did not see him buy it, but I was in my room and heard his sister ask him why he had not bought a 6 1/2 d. one, a small one—I did not catch the answer—I was at the top of the street that evening, and saw the prisoner helping to move the furniture out at the front window—I went to the station, gave information of what I heard, and took Sergeant Elton back with me; but before that, at 2 o'clock I was standing opposite, and saw the prisoner going to an oil shop in Oakley Street with a bottle—he said he was going to get paraffin and order coals—before that he said he said he would move the best of this furniture, as he did not wish the best destroyed; that was Thursday night—I went to bed at 1.55 by his clock, which I don't think was right—he gave me a glass oil lamp to take upstairs, and I went up without saying anything—I was sitting in the shop all the evening according to my orders; I went to my room, he followed me soon after, and went down again and brought
up a pint bottle of paraffin; the same bottle I saw him with the day before—he began saturating the carpet in front of the bed with paraffin; then lie said "It is time now," and he set light to the mattress with the lamp; previous to that he had tried to break the glass of the lamp, but could not, so he took the globe off, and said "I shan't throw it down, as it will make too much noise"—he put it under the carpet, and tried to break it with his fist, but did not succeed—he then set fire to the mattress, and upset the lamp on the floor, and pushed the whole of it under the bed—he told me to stay two or three minutes, and see it well alight—I said nothing, but rushed and gave the alarm to the detectives who were in the street—they sent me for the fire-engine—to the best of my belief on that Saturday morning at 2 o'clock his mother and sister were in the house, and a man Dick who lodged there—I did not see them go to bed; they had rooms at this end—no one occupied the room over me.
Cross-examined. I have been a travelling musician about six years, since I came out of prison—I was in prison seven years ago for stealing coats, and had six months for it—I sing and play the guitar at seaside places—I am living nowhere; I slept at a coffee-house last night—I separated from my wife a month ago; it was not at her desire, but at mine; I could not agree—it is not a fact that she separated from me because I would not support her—she has lived with me since I left prison—I won a bit of money at Epsom races, and then she came to live with me; that is not why she came—I was always earning money, but she would not stop at home—I have known the prisoner two months—I just sleep there; sometimes I stop and take my meals—I may have been there eight or nine times—the sister was not in the shop when the prisoner had the altercation with his mother, nor was Dick there—when he said he would pay me well to set fire to the house, he had been drinking; his eyes were sparkling, he seemed agitated, and he smelt strongly—I don't think he had drunk too much, but the little he had had got into his head; he seemed to know what he was about—I did not tell him I should inform any one—I went to bed and stayed there till a quarter to two next day—it was then I heard the conversation about the lamp; it was in the shop, and my window was open—they burnt candles before that—I think he spoke of the furniture more than once—while I was there his mother in his absence had a notice from the parish authorities to clear out—that was on Friday morning at 11.30—the furniture was being moved when I gave information to the police—I had not informed any one of what I heard him say on Thursday morning, because I could not get up and open the door or walk out—I did not know that the furniture was taken to Brook Street—the prisoner said on Friday evening, "The fire will take place about 2 o'clock, so as the neighbours will be asleep"—we had had no preliminary conversation—he also said "I will run the water off, so that the young, fellow if he gets up shall not be able to get a pail to put it out"—I have not said this before; I told the Magistrate about running the water off I am quite certain of that—I heard my depositions read over, but they read them very quickly—I know now that there was no water found in the tank when the firemen came, and I mentioned that to the Magistrate—I remained in the shop on the Friday evening after that conversation, to hear all I could, but I went out to inform the detectives between 10 and 11 o'clock—the prisoner's mother, I think, went to bed at the same time that I did—I do not know whether his sister had gone to bed
or where she slept—I do not know whether Dick's name is really Charley Colerick—I have slept with him several times, but I did not sleep with him on the Thursday night before the fire—I slept by myself, I am sure, and on the Wednesday night I do not think I was in London—I did not sleep with him when I went to bed at 2 o'clock on Thursday morning—I am certain he was not sleeping in the room over me on the Friday nighty because I know his bed-room is not on that side of the house—I know his bed-room, because I have slept with him—he was in the house that night to the best of my belief—I did not tell him that the prisoner was going to set fire to the place, nor did I tell the mother or the sister—I had only been in my room a few minutes when the prisoner came in with a bottle of oil—it was a dark-brown wine bottle—I got a reward two days afterwards for communicating the fact of the fire.
JOSEPH HELSON (Police Sergeant L). On 3rd June, shortly after 10 p.m., Shepherd made a communication to me outside Kennington Road Police-station—I went to Oakley Street, and saw a van standing outside No. 118, a coffee-house, and a bedstead, bedding, drawers, boxes, and bundles being placed in the van, and some were being brought out at the first-floor window—I saw it removed to, I believe, 52, Brook Street, Kennington Road, not above 300 yards off—I have since seen it in some rooms there—I saw Shepherd again next morning between 9 and 10 o'clock, and gave him certain directions—he came again that evening about 10 o'clock and made another communication—I told my inspector, and then obtained Inspector Chamberlain's assistance, and he and I, and another inspector and a constable, remained in Westminster Bridge Road and watched the house—I saw Shepherd run out a few minutes to 2, shouting, "Fire! He has set the place on fire," or "set the room on fire"—I told him to call the fire-escape man, and told the constable to spring his rattle—we then went to No. 118—the door was open; we shouted, and ran up the staircase, and saw a, light under the door of the first-floor back room—on opening the door we saw a bed, the foot of which was facing us; the left side was against the wall, the right side was flaming, and there was fire underneath—I heard a voice downstairs, and saw the prisoner's sister in her nightdress, with a blanket on her—she said, "Where is my mother? Save my mother"—she directed us to another staircase—Chamberlain and I went together, and found the prisoner dragging his mother out of a room—we took her downstairs, and I asked him if there was any one else in the house—he said, "Yes, there is a lodger upstairs," pointing to No. 118—we went to the second-floor back, over the room Which was on fire, where I found a man asleep in bed—I believe his name is Charles Colerick—we came down, and I asked the prisoner if there was any one else in bed—he said "No"—I told him I should take him in custody for setting the house on fire—he said, "I know nothing of it"—he had his arms full of clothing; he was dressed, except his boots—I took him to the station, and ran back to the house, and with the fire-escape man, and water-jugs and tea-leaves, we extinguished the fire—I found this parcel under the bed—it is common drugget; it was wet, saturated with paraffin oil—I also found there this top of a paraffin lamp, and in the shop I found a bundle of bread, butter, cheese, bacon, and ham—the cupboard doors were open, and old papers were all over the floor—I charged the prisoner at the station, and found 13 or 14 keys for all the doors, two or three pounds in gold, between seven and eight pounds in silver, nearly 2s. in bronze, and a deposit note for 25l. which had been deposited in the London and Westminster Bank the previous day, and also some brass taps—he gave me a key to open the door of 52, Brook Street, where I saw the furniture which I had seen removed, and in a box I found these two policies. (These were both dated 21st February, 1879, one for 600l., and the other for 300l., on the furniture, wearing apparel, and stock-in-trade of William Best.) I also found there this covenant of a lease—this board (produced) is part of the floor under the bed just where I took the lamp from—I saw what remained of the furniture of the coffee-house, a few old bedsteads with mattresses and sheet coverings—I should say that all the furniture in the bedrooms would not fetch 10l. if sold—the furniture at Brook Street was better.
Cross-examined. The room I saw the prisoner bringing his mother out of was on the same floor as the room where the fire was, but in the other house, which communicated—I asked the prisoner where he had removed his furniture and papers, he said to 52, Brook Street.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Police Inspector L). I have heard Helston's evidence; it is correct—I assisted the mother and the man Charley downstairs, and then went into the back yard of 118 and 120, but found there was no water in the butt, but the yard was saturated with water as if it had recently been let out—a ladder or steps was against the butt—I went up, lifted the head off, and saw that there was no water; but there had been recently, because the tank was very wet up to within a foot and a half of the top—I said to Shepherd at the station, in the prisoner's presence, "State now to me what you stated last night in the presence of this man"—he then said "This man asked me to assist him in setting fire to his house, I did not care to do that"—the prisoner made no remark—Mr. Hamborough, the chief of the fire brigade, called my attention to a very strong smell—I took hold of the sleeve of the prisoner's coat and found it was saturated with paraffin; also his right trousers leg—Shepherd said "I asked him if his mother and sister were not taken out of the house before he set fire to it"—he said "No, never mind them;" I then thought he was a bad man, I listened to what he had to say and I communicated with Sergeant Hilson"—the prisoner said "That is not all the truth you are saying"—I told him—I should charge him with setting fire to the dwelling-house, 118, Oakley Street—he made no reply—when the charge was read over by the inspector he said "I did not intend to set fire to the house."
Cross-examined. I went into the yard and turned on the tap of the tank—I drew a jug of water and took it up stairs, but the flames were out before that—there was some water in the tank, that was five or ten minutes after Chamberlain had been there.
Witnesses for the Defence.
also lived there—he kept us both—he was always a good son, and was very fond of me—on the Wednesday night before the fire I was up in the shop when Shepherd was there—I did not go to bed till 2 a.m. on Thursday—I always see everybody upstairs before I go to bed—on the Thursday night, the night before the fire, Shepherd and Charles Colerick slept together in the back room, the room where the fire occurred—I have not the least doubt of that, but on the Friday night Colerick was sleeping in another part—on the Wednesday night Shepherd came and asked for a lodging; he said something about having fallen out with his wife—I was sitting up in the shop with my son and Shepherd on that night, and went to bed about 1.45—Shepherd had then gone to bed—as to an altercation with my son in Shepherd's presence, I merely asked him whether I should move my furniture, as I had had notice from the parish authorities to clear it out—he said "Yes, mother, you had better clear it away"—no angry words passed between us that evening while Shepherd was there, and nothing was said about the place being set on fire—we were all sitting together—I went to bed about 1.30—I slept on the Friday in the other house, No. 120, with my daughter—Charley Colerick was the only other person in the house—I heard a commotion about 2.5, and my son broke my door open and pulled me downstairs, saying, "Mother, the house is on fire"—he seemed frightened—up to that time I had heard nothing about any fire taking place in the house—the furniture had been removed to 52, Brook Street, on the Thursday night on account of the notice from the vestry to clear out, but there is loads of furniture in the house now—after the notice was received from the vestry I said to, my son on the Wednesday "You buy a lamp that will do for us"—that was in consequence of the mess the candies made—up to that time we had no lamp—I saw the lamp on Thursday—on Friday night, when Shepherd went to bed, I gave him the lamp, and he went out of the shop with it.
Cross-examined by MR. DENISON. There are eight bedrooms in the two-houses—we are three in family—tenants come in just to pass one night; we do not ask them who they are—I have not got the vestry notice here.
ELIZABETH BEST . I am the prisoner's sister, and live with him at 118, Oakley Street—I remember the lamp being bought on the Thursday; I asked the prisoner to buy it because the candles made such a mess—I saw it used on the Thursday night—I went to bed on Friday night about 11.30—I heard my brother come to the door when the fire broke out; he woke me—up to that time I had no knowledge that a fire was going to take place.
CHARLES COLERICK . I have lived at this coffee-house four years—I remember Shepherd coming to lodge there on the Thursday night before the fire—he slept me with that night in the room where the fire occurred—that was not because the house was full, for there was no one there—I slept on the Friday night in the other house—I was in bed when I heard of the fire, and they came and got me out—I heard the prisoner calling out—I had not had a conversation with Shepherd before that; he had said nothing about fire—I had no knowledge that it was going to happen.
Cross-examined. On the Friday night Shepherd only was in the part of the house where the fire occurred—the prisoner was not on that side of the house that night—I was with him till 1 o'clock—I did not see him go to bed; I left him and his mother downstairs.
Re-examined. I saw the mother give Shepherd the lamp to go upstairs, and saw him go out of the shop.
GUILTY of setting fire to the house with intent to defraud the Insurance Company. — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
The COURT considered that the Insurance Company ought to give Shepherd a reward.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
FANNY DYMES . I live at 12, St. Agnes Terrace, Kennington Park, and am a dressmaker—on 18th July, or 1 o'clock on the 19th, I arrived at the Elephant and Castle by an Atlas omnibus—I was alone—I went down Kennington Park Road on my way home, and some one who I believe was the prisoner spoke to me—I walked on and made no reply—he followed me till I got to South Place, which is about five minutes' walk, and spoke to me again, but I did not catch his words—I told him to go away and mind his own business—that is rather a dark part—he came up again and said that he was going home with me—I said that he was not—he said that he had lost his train to Wimbledon, and must go home with some one—I said "I live here"—he said "I shall go home with you, for I have given you 5s."—that was not true; I had never seen him before in my life—he said "You b——, I have given it to you, and if I do not have it I will have the worth of it," and dealt me a blow between my eyes which knocked me down—when I got up I was bleeding,'and saw him at some distance stopped by a constable—I missed my watch, and my chain was broken—I did not miss my bracelet at that time.
Cross-examined. I have Jived there about four months—I lived with my mother before that—I am here for the benefit of my health—I suffer from heart disease, and, I believe, consumption—I went out and sat in the Park first, and then took an omnibus to Charing Cross and met a friend, and kept with her for a time—her name is Charlton, and I believe she is on the stage—I had not seen her for some time—it was rather showery, and I took the last omnibus at Trafalgar Square—the prisoner spoke to me first—he told me that he came up from Wimbledon—he did not say that he was a seaman on board the Excellent—I swear that I did not invite him to come with me—I have never accosted anybody in the streets at that time of night—I did not ask him if he had any money, nor did he tell me he had only 5s., nor did I ask him to give me the 5s.—I stopped at South Place, where I turned down—the prisoner paid for nothing for me—I did not tell him I was a singer—I said that I lived in very respectable apartments, and therefore if he came with me I should call for help—I did not leave him at the corner of the road and go down to the back door saying that I had the key; there is no back door or side door—I did not leave him for a time—he did not tell me where I had put the 5s.—there was no struggle before he knocked me down—I do not know that his lanyard was found there, but possibly I might have caught hold of the cord when he knocked me down—he made a dash for my pocket and tore my dress at the side—I did not see my watch on the ground or see the prisoner take it up—some of my chain was found on the ground with his lanyard—I was living with my mother at
Ramsgate before this—she is independent—I have heard of Mr. Buss there, he is the Superintendent of Police—I still say that my mother is independent—she does not keep a brothel that I know of—I do not know that she was convicted of keeping one in October, 1874, I was in London at that time—I was not on the town at Ramsgate, that I swear, nor in London—the policeman lent me his lantern when I went back, and I found my watch and trinkets.
Re-examined. What I have said is true—I never received any money from the prisoner—the watch was in my watch-pocket outside, the chain was partly outside, a portion of it could be seen—as a rule I wore the trinkets inside my dress, but I cannot say whether they were out or in then—I had the bracelet on.
JESSE PETERS (Policeman P 103). I was on duty in Palmer's Road about 2 a.m, and heard cries of "Police!"—I saw the prisoner running up the middle of the road and stopped him and asked him what he was running for—he said "That woman has robbed me of my money"—a few seconds afterwards the prosecutrix came up and said "He has robbed me of my watch and chain"—he said "She has got 5s. of my money;" she said "It is wrong, I have not; he has robbed me of my watch and chain and knocked me down"—I asked him where the watch and chain were, he gave them to me and a bracelet—they were in his right hand—I went back with them and we looked about and found the trinkets on the ground and a portion of the chain and the prisoner's lanyard.
Cross-examined. The prisoner made no attempt to get away—the prosecutrix told the Magistrate that she did not wish to injure the prisoner's character—when I picked up his lanyard she said "I held him by that as long as I could"—I have made inquiries and find that he bears an excellent character on the ship; he was selected to go to Wimbledon as one of the working party, who were all good-conduct men—he showed me his discharges from several ships, they were all very good.
Re-examined. I stood ready in the middle of the road in case he should dodge me, and he came right up to me—he said nothing about having her watch and chain till she charged him—she was bleeding from the nose, and crying, and she had her handkerchief in her hand—I saw at the station the marks of a blow at the side of her nose—her pocket was torn—she was perfectly sober.
FANNY DYMES (Re-examined by MR. WILLES). I did make some remark at the police-court about not wishing to press the charge; I was very ill, I had been in bed for a week after this, and only got up that morning to go to the Court, and I asked the Magistrate if he would kindly settle it; he said that he could not, and the next time I asked him again, and said I had no wish to hurt the prisoner's character—the Magistrate let him out on bail the second week.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. S. WHITE Prosecuted.
HENRY GIFFARD (Policeman L). I took the prisoner on 9th August, at 52, Broad Street, Lambeth, and told him he would be charged with intermarrying with Caroline Curtis, his wife being alive—he said "I thought she was dead, it is quite right"—I received this marriage certificate from Caroline Curtis at the same time.
ISABELLA SHEW . I am a widow and live at 81, Dudley Street, Bloomsbury—I know the prisoner's wife, her maiden name was Curling—I was present at their marriage 24 years ago last Christmas Day, at St. James's, Piccadilly.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I heard last Christmas twelve months that your wife was dead, but she is alive.
CAROLINE CURTIS . I was married to the prisoner on 29th August, 1878—I think the Church is called St. John's, Camberwell—I had known him about ten months—he told me he had been married, and his wife was dead.
JAMES WILEY . I am a labourer; the prisoner is my father—I saw my mother last Christmas twelve months at Highgate Infirmary when I came from the country—ray father has been living at the Rose and Crown, Com-mercial Road—I saw them together there two years ago.
Cross-examined. I did not hear that my mother was dead—I told you that she was coming out of the infirmary and things were awkward—I did not suggest that you should get out of the way—I had a letter, but I did not show it to you—I said "Father, if you take my advice, go and. see mother because she has been very bad"—you said "That I shall not, your mother has been no good to you or to me either"—I said "You had better send a kind word"—that was after the second marriage.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I would not have done it if I had known she was alive."
GUILTY .— Six Weeks' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. M. WILLIAMS and GILL Prosecuted; MR. D. METCALFE appeared for Simkins and MR. RIBTON for Kippar.
ROBERT ROGERS . I am a convict in Pentonville Prison—I was convicted on 15th October, 1878, with the prisoner Workman and Harding, but Harding was not charged at the same time—at the end of July or the beginning of August I went by appointment to Workman's house, 42, Stafford Street, Peckham—the appointment was for 12, but he did not come till 3—he apologised for being late, and said that he had been to see a man named Kippar, an old friend of his, who had a friend who had a safe job on, but he did not seem to like the idea of it; and he was going next day, Saturday, and should take a wax, and it would not be his fault if he did not bring an imp, meaning an impression—I asked him if it was worth attending to—he said "Yes, there is 300l. in it on Mondays, and on quarter days there is generally between 700l. and 800l."—I went again next Sunday to Workman's house, and he showed me the impression of a key on wax, and it was to be attended to at once—I said "Do you know it to be a perfect one"—he said "Yes, I took it myself at Kippar's house; we looked over a lot of keys, and I found one which could be altered to suit the wax impression instead of making a new key—in the evening I went to his house again and saw Workman and his wife, and Mr. and Mrs. Chandler and Baker and Jane West—Baker and Chandler were talking about Maudslay's affair in Westminster Bridge Road, and Baker was shown the impression of the key—Workman fetched it
from the next room—I assisted Workman in making the key daring the week, and on the next Saturday I went with him to Kippar's house, in York Street, London Road—Workman introduced me to Kippar as his friend, and gave him a key—the prisoner went out with it and returned in a few minutes and said "I have given it to Simkins, he will be out to lunch presently, and then we shall know the result"—shortly afterwards Simkins came in; I had not seen him before—Workman introduced me to him as his friend, and Simkins gave him the key, and said "It does not fit, old fellow; I have had it in the lock, and had a hard job to get it out," and showed his hand where he had knocked the skin off—he gave me the key, and I pointed out the fault, one of the wards was wrong in front—Workman said that as Simkins was going to give the key up in a day or two we had better take a fresh imp. of it—I did so on the same wax, and gave it to Simkins, who said that he would not stay, he was going on an errand, and we were to meet him in a public-house at Southwark Bridge Road, and talk it over—a few minutes afterwards I met Simkins in a public-house, and Kippar asked me to go with him to Union Street—I said that it was not safe for me to be seen in his company, but Simkins said "Go with him, and hear what he has to say"—they went, and two hours afterwards I met Workman in the London Road—he said that the arrangement he made was to enter the premises through 'the passage door, which was to be opened by a false key—he said "We have plenty of skels" meaning skeletons, "which will open them"—I asked him what time it was to be done—he said between 8 and 10 o'clock in the evening—I went on the Monday morning to Kippar's house with the key, and as we passed Mr. Yate's office Workman pointed it out as the place we were going to do—we found Kippar at home—Simkins came in, and said that he knew we were there, for he saw us from the office—Workman gave him the key, and he said that he thought it would do—Simkins said that he thought it would do, and he would very soon see, and he came back in half an hour, and said that it opened the safe quite as well as the original, and the only thing we wanted was the cash—he said "By the by, the scheme we made on Saturday will have to be abandoned, because nobody can open the office door without being seen by the people living in the kitchen, and fresh arrangements will have to be made"—he said that he was going out, and we asked if we could not see the safe—he said "Yes, if you wish, come over in about an hour's time"—in about an hour Workman and I went over; we saw Simkins and a female in front of us—we went in, and he said "Oh, you have come"—we said that we had to complain of the rain which was coming through the roof of the house in Bale Road—that was merely to get behind the counter—we fixed upon Dale Road because Simkins told us he collected rents there for Mr. Yate's property—we passed behind the counter, and saw the safe under the counter—Simkins said that he would send a plumber to see to it—two gentlemen were in the back office, one of whom Simkins said was the governor—I saw Kippar return to his lodging about 12.30, and about 5 o'clock the same evening Simkins called—we stayed there all the afternoon—Workman asked how much cash there was in it—he said "Only a few pounds," and if we were ready to do it it was not worth doing that day, for the new collector came in just about 4 o'clock, and took it to the bank—the revolving shutters fasten inside with a thumb screw at the bottom, and it was arranged that Simkins was to leave the screw out so that we could lift the shutters, and after we entered we were to put them
secure, and pass out at the passage door so that no suspicion should be thrown upon him—I went to Kippar's during the week—he said that the collector brought home Jess than 250l. on Mondays, but every quarter it varied from 700l. to 1,000l., and that the bank closed at 4 o'clock—he said that the new collector was Sergeant Hammond, who had recently left the police, and that he had been collector prior to Hammond; that the governor had a small private safe in his office, but he did not know the contents of it—a few days afterwards I saw Kippar again—we had arranged that he should come to Workman's house; he came there and told us that there was between 60l. and 70l. in the safe, and asked us if we would do it for that; we both said no, we would rather wait a little longer—he said that he had to be back before Sim kins left to tell him about arranging the shutters—we said that if there was more than 200l. in it we would do it—I went to Kippar's place the next week, and Workman asked him if he could account for the small amount being in the safe lately—he said "Yes, the new collector was very punctual in taking all the cash to the bank"—we then agreed to put it off till quarter-day—Workman was arrested on 15th September and I on the 21st—I left the key with my mother at Bermondsey—I gave evidence last Sessions against Workman and others in Maudslay's matter—I gave information to Inspector Hunt, who showed me this key (produced)—it is the one I made to fit the safe—I know a man named Liddicott—I did not see Simkins talking to him.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I spoke to Mr. Hunt on, I think, June 24, and wrote an order from Southwark Police Court for thorn to go for this key—it was about the beginning of July that I gave information which led to the prisoners' arrest—I first met Simkins about the latter end of August or the beginning of September, 1878, at Kippar's house—I know it was five or six weeks previous to my apprehension for housebreaking in the Old Kent Road—my friend Workman was arrested previous to me, and a man named Harding, but Baker is his proper name—the first time I saw Simkins was when I took the key to him at Kippar's house—I mostly saw him there—I was not a friend of Kippar's till I was introduced by Workman:—I only visited Simkins while this thing was going on—I went several times to his house during the present case, and I saw him once in a public-house on the day we went to Union Street—we had a glass when we all met at Kippar's house—Simkins drank a glass or two; he never stayed more than a quarter or half an hour—we generally met about 11 a.m. when he came out to lunch, and Simkins would run over sometimes for a minute if he was going on an errand—I have been at Kippar's two or three hours, and Simkins has called in twice—we made it a rule to be there at 11 o'clock to catch him when he came out to lunch, and I have seen him there in the evening—I do not know that he was engaged to be married to Kippar's daughter—I do not know that I have seen her at the house—I saw a girl at the police-court who was represented as his daughter—I have not spoken to Harding or Baker since I was apprehended—I did not see him at the police-court giving evidence—Mr. Hunt told me that he was a witness. Cross-examined by Mr. Ribton. My age is 33—I have been convicted I believe six times prior to this, and am now under sentence of penal servitude for 20 years—I have been sentenced to penal servitude twice—I gave evidence last Session against my friend Workman, and his brother-in-law and his wife—I have been tried at the Surrey Sessions once too often, that
is where I got the 20 years—I have been engaged in three or four burglaries not in London, but in country parts, but this was in London that I am doing this for—I was first convicted 16 or 18 years ago, I think that was for being drunk—the first time I was tried by a Jury was in 1866, for housebreaking, I got 7 years—since that I have been selling things in the street, and have been at work at an engineer's—I do not expect my sentence to be remitted a day, but they may do it—I am giving evidence from pure patriotism, because I want my friend Workman to come and help me on with it—I had three months' twice, and then two years—I was sentenced to 7 years before that, and now to 20 years—I had heard Kippar speak of Workman before this case, but had never seen him.
Re-examined. Nobody has held out the slightest inducement to me to give evidence here.
JAMBS HARDING . I am also called Baker—I am now in Wandsworth Prison—I know Workman and Rogers—I was at Workman's house about the middle of August and saw him and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Chandler, a woman named West and Rogers—Rogers and Workman showed me this key of an iron safe, but it was not in its present form—they asked me if it could be made to fit the impression, I tried it to the impression and expressed the opinion that it could be, the wards being similar—they told me it was to open an iron safe, and that there were folding shutters, the thumb screws of which were to be left out.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I have been convicted three times—my first sentence was 12 months in 1869, then I had three months in 1871, and then nine months in 1877—I had 12 months at Slough Sessions, and am under that sentence now—I was tried at the last Surrey Sessions for house-breaking and got 12 months, but the sentence was postponed for me to give evidence against Patterson and Workman, after which I was sentenced to 12 months—the Court knew of my previous convictions—that lenient sentence was in consequence of my giving evidence and succeeding in convicting Patterson and Workman, and of other things.
WILLIAM CHANDLER . I am a prisoner in Pentonville—I was discharged from Wandsworth Prison on 3rd August, 1878—I know Workman, Patterson, and Rogers—I went to Workman's with my wife on two or three occosions, and saw him and his wife and Rogers, and a young woman—I was shown impressions of a key—Rogers compared some keys with it, and Baker said that with two or three alterations he thought it would fit a safe, which they were going to break open—Workman said that sometimes there was 60l. or 70l. in the safe, but that would not pay them, as there were four people to cut it up, but if they waited till October, there would be 700l. in it—I did not know the premises, but they all told me it was Mr. Young's—I know Liddicott, I went to his house and walked with Workman to the. Crown and Anchor, New Kent Road; he looked into two or three compartments and spoke to a man, I only just saw him sideways, but my impression is that it was Simkins—Workman said, "That is the man I have to see, the party who has put up the place in York Street"—I saw Kippar many times at Mr. Liddicott's, and five or six people who were pals of his. Cross-examined by Mr. Metcalfe. Supposing that was Simkins, it was the first time I saw him.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I have been convicted once, and am sentenced to 10 years' penal servitude—I do not know that I am wrongly
convicted—I was tried at the Surrey Sessions before that for having a lot of stolen property in my possession, and got nine months at Wandsworth—I have given evidence in another safe job against "Workman—my wife was tried with me at the Surrey Sessions, and was acquitted on the ground, I suppose, of her acting under my coercion—Mr. Hunt asked me to give evidence—if I behave well I shall get two years of my sentence remitted—I do not know that I shall get anything for giving evidence against Workman. Ann Chandler. I am the wife of the last witness, and live at 15, Albany Street, Walworth—a few days after my husband came out of gaol I was at Workman's house with my husband, Mrs. West, Douthwaite, and Baker or Rogers—I saw Rogers and Workman show a piece of wax with the impression of a safe-key on it.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I was tried at the Surrey Sessions—I know Harding—he also went by the name of Baker—he was lodging in my house when my husband was in prison.
EDMUND YATES . I am a builder, of York Street, London Road, and own a considerable amount of property in York Street, Dyson Road, and Dale Street—Simkins was my confidential clerk, and Sergeant Hammond succeeded him as collector—Simkins never told me of any project of entering my office, nor had I the slightest idea of it till I heard of it from the police—I have three safes on the ground floor, and the collector's money is put into the largest of them, which is in the front office—the collectors are collecting every day, but there is most money in the safe on Mondays and Thursdays, and two days shortly after quarter-day—I heard Rogers at the police-court describe my premises as nearly as possible—if Simkins was there last it would be his duty to fasten up the revolving shutters, which are fastened inside at the bottom with this screw—Inspector Hunt showed me this key—I tried it, and it opened my safe, where the collector's money usually is—some of the wards of the lock appear to be shams, and of no use.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Simkins was in my employ about three and a half years—I always considered him thoroughly honest previous to this—I had three references with him, and I was thoroughly satisfied that he bore a good character.
RICHARD KING . I am in Mr. Yates's employ—the messenger usually closed the shutters, but when he did not Simkins did—he did not live on the premises—he did not inform me of any projected burglary, or that he had found out that some persons intended to break open the safe.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I have very rarely seen him the worse for drink.
WILLIAM HAMMOND . I succeeded Simkins as collector—I know Kippar, he occupied the first floor at 29, York Street, which house is Mr. Yates's property—I have seen Kippar and Simkins together—Simkins was in the habit of going there—I saw a report in a newspaper of the apprehension of Rogers and Workman for burglary—Kippar said that he knew Workman over the way—I was collecting with Simkins—he ceased on August 7—the most I have collected in a day is a little over 700l.—I once missed the key of the safe; it is generally in the safe during the day unless I require it—I remember Workman well, he reported himself on one occasion to me—I have not seen him since that; he is wonderfully altered—if the bolt was left out the shutters could by raised quite easily.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Any one could take the key of the
safe out without my knowledge—I have gone into the office and found it quite unprotected.
MARY RUDD . I am the wife of Isaac Rudd of 29, York Street—in August last Kippar occupied the first floor, and Simkins visited him there sometimes once and sometimes two or three times a day—about the end of July or the beginning of August he said to me as I came through the kitchen, "Allow me to introduce to you my friend John Rogers"—I understood it was "John," but I know it was Rogers—I should not know the man again.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Kippar has a daughter, she did not live in the house—I did not see her there from "Whitsuntide to November?—she was often there before Whitsuntide—Simkins used to see her there—he was, I believe, more fond of her than he ought to be.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. I have not seen the convict Rogers—I am sure I could not identify the man, but I am sure the name was Rogers—I never heard the name of Odgers till last Wednesday.
DANIEL HUNT (Detective). I had Rogers in custody in the Old Kent Road, and received information from him and from Harding in reference to the intended burglary at Maudslay's—I have seen Rogers since, and he gave me information in consequence of which I went to his mother with a written authority from him—he gave me her address, and I received from her the key—I received certain orders from the Home Office as to taking out a warrant—I took Simkins and read the warrant to him, he said "I know nothing about it"—Mr. Yates then came from the back office, and I took this key out of my pocket and said, "Mr. Yates, will you be so kind as to fit this key into your safe?"—Simkins said, "I know all about it; they got my key from me while I was drunk, I had heard them say they intended to break into our place and I came back and told Mr. King so"—I asked Mr. Yates whether he had told him of the project to break into his place—he said "No"—Simkins said "No, I did not tell him"—I made this memorandum at the time—he afterwards said, "It was all through drink or I should never have known them"—Mr. Yates pointed out a safe behind a desk—I tried the key to it, and it fitted very nicely—I found on Simkins a pocket-book, some papers, and a loan society's book, showing a loan granted to him, and this letter.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Baker or Harding was convicted at the Surrey Sessions, and sentence was postponed—before that he gave evidence in another case, and they were convicted, and he was then sentenced to 12 months' hard labour, which was to run concurrent with another sentence, so that it was only equal to a sentence of two months—I know nothing against Kippar.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Police Inspector L). On 24th July, about 12. o'clock, I saw Kippar in a shop, 80, Lambeth Walk—I said "I hold a warrant for your apprehension—I read it to him and told him the charge—he said that he knew nothing about it—he afterwards said "I know Arthur Workman for some 15 years; I knew him as a grocer's assistant; I know Simkins very well; I have known him some time; Rogers was introduced to me in my house about 12 months ago; he has been five or six times; they used to talk over some very funny business, but I did not hear all; they used to send me out for beer when they came in"—he said that he met Simkins and Rogers at Kippar's house five or six times.
Camberwell, which belongs to Mr. Yates—I had to go to him about some repairs to the house, and saw Simkins—he said "You have been busy in your line"—I said "Yes"—he said "Who is this Mr. Bailey?"—I said "He is a returned convict named Workman"—he said "Is he a tall man, who looks like a policeman, with his chin shaved?"—I said "Yes"—he said that he knew Rogers and Workman and the lot, and if it had not been for drink he should not have got mixed up with him, and that he overheard their conversation, but was told not to take notice of it as it did not concern him; that it was about breaking into the office, and that he sat up all night for fear they should do so; that he also overheard their conversation about other affairs which they had done, but was told to mind his own business—he said "I can tell you one thing, the hat that Workman had on when he was arrested for the Kent Road job, was one he took in mistake when he was doing a job down in the country"—I said "There is a verbatim account in the Camberwell and Peckham Times, and if you like we will go and get a paper—we met Simkins on the way, and I said "I have found a man who was dead and is alive again"—he said "Who is that?"—I said a man named Kippar, who used to live at Chatham—he said "It is all right; he is the man; I will send down to Chatham to see; he is Kippar; you put it to him too straight"—Simkins said that he was connected with Mrs. Sinclair—she is Simkins's daughter—I saw Kippar at Lambeth Walk, and asked him if he lived at Chatham—he said "No, you mean my brother"—I said "The one that lived at 18, Davis Street"—he said "He is dead—I said "Where was he buried?"—he said "I don't know"—I said "Where is he registered?"—he said "I don't know; is not your name Joseph?"—I said "No; I think you are the man."
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE., I did not know that Simkins was connected with this.
Simkins received a good character.
GUILTY . The Jury recommended Simkins to mercy. — Two Years' Imprisonment each.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. REID. Prosecuted; MR. FRITH appeared for Harford, and MR. S. WHITE for Small.
JAMES EARLEY . I am a bricklayer of 6, Elizabeth Place, Old Kent Road—on Sunday night, 20th July, I was by the Elephant and Castle, it was very wet, and I had an umbrella in my right hand—Lingard came up to me and put his hand in my left waistcoat pocket, and snatched my watch—two men were with him who I cannot swear to—I caught hold of his hand, but only for a second, he was too quick for me, as I could not use my right hand—two officers caught hold of him. Cross-examined by Lingard. I found my chain hanging down, I did not see the watch in your hand.
HENRY GEORGE (Detective Serjeant L). On 20th July I was on duty at the Elephant and Castle with Weatherhead just before 11, and saw the three prisoners—I directed him to watch them—we parted, and I went into a doorway, it was raining very hard—they went down the Walworth
Road, turned back, and came into the doorway where I and Early were—Lingard caught hold of Earley's chain—I seized him and held him—he became very violent—we got assistance, and he was conveyed to the station—he made no reply to the charge—I wrote out a description of the other two prisoners, and gave it to the Inspector on duty, saying that it was "Josh," and from that description Sergeant Macey took Harford on 22nd July, and I identified him at the station—he was wearing the same clothes as he is now, but he had a black felt hat the same shape as this (produced), and a snuff-coloured suit—I took Small on the same day, and said, "You will be charged with stealing a watch"—he said, "I was not there"—the Inspector said to me in his presence, "Are you sure, George, that this is the man?"—I said, "I am certain, I have known him over twelve months, and have seen him daily; he was wearing the same clothes as he has on now"—when I took him he had a white felt hat; he said, "I never had a light felt hat, and I can prove it"—the Inspector said, "Who can prove it?"—he said, "My hatter at the corner of Marshall Street, London Road"—he gave his address 29, Longueville Road, and I have since that seen his wife, and in a box under the bed there I found this white hat—I have seen him at the Waterloo Station when he went to Kempton Park Races—I have seen Small and Harford together nightly at the Elephant and Castle, and also at the Princess of Wales—I know him personally.
Cross-examined by Lingard. I saw the chain in your hand, but not the watch, that was gone—I was behind you—I did not see that he had a watch, but I know where he bought one—the swivel was not undone, nor was the chain undone from his buttonhole, it was dangling down—I had stood by him and saw you for a quarter of an hour previously.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I was standing behind Earley in the doorway—the whole thing was done in an instant—I said before the Magistrate that I would not swear Lingard was pushed—I had said, "The only person I saw pushed was Lingard"—they came up together and they may have pushed one another—I said that the other two men were at Lingard's side, I never said they were behind him—I said, "I seized Lingard from behind"—that was about 11.15—I heard witnesses called before the Magistrate to account for Harford's whereabouts, that had nothing to do with my fixing the time—I did not fix the time before the Magistrate, I only said that I watched them about a quarter of an hour—I said that it was after 11, I did not say a little after.
Cross-examimed by MR. WHITE. I was on duty—I had not been into the public-house, I had only just come out—I had been in to change my clothes, I was wet through—I was nearly touching Earley—we both stood up in the doorway, and the prisoners came to the same door—I stood at the public-house door nearly a quarter of an hour, I don't think Earley came up till afterwards—Earley was smoking a pipe—he could not see me—this was at the place where the omnibuses and trams stop—there were not 20 people there, there may have been 15—it was raining in torrents—the pavement is about 3 paces wide—there were not many umbrellas up—I will not say how much after 11 it was, as I was not looking at my watch—it was about a quarter of an hour after the houses were closed—I seized Lingard first—it may be true that two other constables seized him—Small and Lingard were before me and Earley, I was behind the
three—I did not take Small—I knew the others and knew that I should have them, I did not trouble about their getting away—Small had on the same olothes and this white hat—I said at the police-court that he had a light suit and a light felt hat—I handed this description (produced) to Mr. Chance, the Magistrate—it was not dark, the lights of the Elephant and Castle were not out—it was not a dark night. Re-examined. I believe Earley stated at the police-court that it was at a quarter past eleven, this was dune in an instant, the whole affair did not take a minute.
ALBERT WEATHERHEAD (Detective L). On 20th July, about five minutes to eleven p.m., I was at the Elephant and Castle, and saw the three prisoners inside dressed in the same suits as they have on now; Small had a white felt hat, and Harford a black felt hat; I saw them come out, they went into Newington Causeway and moved about the pavement among the people, they then placed themselves nearly opposite the doorway, just by the corner of Walworth Road, near one of the entrances of the Elephant and Castle; I saw Earley, Lingard went in front of him, and the other two behind, covering him; Earley shouted, "You have got my watch," I rushed up and took hold of one of Lingard's hands; George had him in custody then, and he was struggling very hard—we took him to the station—I know Harford and Small very well, they both ran away, I am certain they were there—I never lost eight of them from 10.55 till they committed the robbery.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have heard of constables making mistakes, it was a little after eleven when the robbery occurred; I said at the police-court, "One or two people were standing between me and Small."
Cross-examined by MR. WHITE. Harford and Small were together behind Lingard, 15 or 20 people were there; it was very wet, I was not taking shelter in a doorway; I let Small off; we always make it a practice to apprehend the man we do not know, those we know we can get afterwards—I had been with George for hours before; he was on the pavement—we had the same object in view.
Re-examined. There was a woman with them when they came out of the Elephant and Castle.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. He was going towards his house from the Elephant and Castle.
Witnesses for Harford.
ANN COUTTS . My husband is an engineer at 5, Mount Gardens, "Westminster Road—I know Harford—on the Sunday before he was arrested, he was going out at the same time as I was at 9.30.—I have seen him in the suit he has on now, once before, but he had a dark suit on then, and a dark cloth cap with a peak—the light suit was then in ray kitchen—his wife brought it down and I took care of it in consequence of what she said—it was on my chair when he went out—these are the clothes he wore (produced)—I have been in that house 17 years, and the Harfords have lived there since December.
Cross-examined by MR. REID. This is the first time I have been in a Court of Justice—I have never been charged, not even for drunkenness—Harford gets his living by betting—I know of no other way—
I was going out fur my supper-beer and he was going out at the same time—I did not take any umbrella—his wife brought the clothes here—is was not raining then—I cannot tell you whether it rained at 11 or 12, I was in bed at 11.15—I did not see him then—I did not hear him come in.
Re-examined. I was spoken to about it on the Tuesday and had no difficulty then in remembering what I saw—I went twice to the police-court, but was not called the first time—it was about 8.80 one Sunday evening when his wife brought me the clothes and asked me to take care of them, she was anxious that he should not go out—I have no doubt he wore the dark clothes on that Sunday night and I saw hitn wearing them at dinner time—X have no desire except to speak the truth—I told his wife before I went to bed that she had better take the things into her own place, as he might want them in the morning, and she took them.
By the COURT. Harford had not access to my room when I was out—I was not out 5 minutes, and then I remained at home until I went to bed.
ALFRED EICKETTS . I am barman at the Princess of Wales, London Road, about 2 minutes' walk from the Elephant and Castle—I attended the police-court as a witness for Harford on the Monday before I actually gave evidence, but was not called—I gave my evidence on the remand on the next Saturday, and was bound over—on the Wednesday or Thursday following Sunday the 20th, the prisoner's wife said something to me, in consequence of which I knew that he was in our house on the Sunday previous—he came in about 10.80 p.m., and was talking to two or three friends of his—I served him—he stayed between 25 minutes and half an hour, and left about 5 minutes before closing time, which is 11 o'clock—I described his dress at the police-court before seeing these clothes—he was wearing a kind of corded coat and this cloth cap—I know Beckwith's Baths in Westminster Bridge Koad, it would take about 7 minutes to walk there briskly from the Princess of Wales, and about a quarter of an hour to walk from the Elephant and Castle to Westminster Bridge—the Baths are about 5 or 7 minutes from Westminster Bridge—it is about 9 minutes' walk from the Baths to the Elephant—I did not see his trousers, his coat was buttoned right up—I did not see Lingard and Small there, they were not the men he was talking to—the police have not spoken to me about this—I have no interest or desire beyond speaking the truth—I am sure he was not out of my sight from 10.30 to 10.55.
Cross-examined. It is about 2 minutes' walk from our house to where the robbery was committed—it is a regular thing to keep clocks 5 minutes fast, and our clock is so—I cannot remember what I served him with, or whether it was raining, I only saw him on that evening—I see him there two or three times a week—I have been there about 7 months—I have not seen him there in a light suit of clothes, and in the very suit he now wears, and a Jim Crow hat—I have seen him with Small.
Re-examined. I did not know the other persons in the bar, but knowing Harford I took more notice of his dress than-of a stranger's—I made a remark about his hat to my brother barman—Hsrford was never there afterwards—the hat (produced) is not the one he was weuriug—we close
about 3 minutes after the hour by our clock, and when I speak about 5 minutes to 11 I mean by our clock, 3 minutes after 11 by our clock is really 2 minutes before, so that that would really be 8 minutes to 11.
Lingard's Statement hfore the Magistrate. "I am entirely innocent of the charge; I was by myself all day; I have never seen the other two prisoners before I was in custody. The gentleman never had a watch in his pocket."
Lingard's Defence. I was pushed against the prosecutor and seized by George and the prosecutor; his chain was neither broken or unscrev ed, or detached from his button-hole. Is it possible that George could have taken the chain out of my hand without seeing the watch if there was one? but there is no proof that there was. I am charged with stealing a watch, not with attempting to steal a chain.
Witnesses for Small.
ANNIE DONOVAN . I am tne wife of Richard Donovan of 3, Little Place, St. George's Road, Newington—Small is my brother—he called on me on Sunday 20th. about 8.30, with his wife, and left in a few minutes—I saw them again about 10.40 or 10.45 the same night, the "houses" were open—I went home with them—I cannot give you their address, but it 16 at the bottom of the street—I stopped with them about 10 minutes, because they went up stairs—I just tasted some supper there—he had dark clothes on. but he took off his coat and waistcoat to have his supper—the "houses" were closed when I left, they close at 11 on Sundays—he had *a dark round hat, not a billy cock—he was not wearing light clothes or a light hat—he only wears light clothes occasionally, just for races; that is his living.
Cross-examined. I do not know the name of Dicky Sprike, or that my brother or my husband ever went by it—my husband's name is not Habbitt, it is Donovan—my brother goes by no name but Small—I don't know whether he ever lived in London Street—I cannot tell whether he was ever in Newcastle, or whether he ever went by the name of Stanley—he gets his living by backing horses only—I have seen him wear a hat like this. (The white one.)
Re-examined. I do not know his movements altogether, I have my children to attend to.
EMMA JANE KELLING . I am the wife of John Kelling, of 22, Longueville Eoad, Newington Butts—Small and his wife live in my house, and occupy the first-floor front room, which is opposite my bedroom—on 20th July I saw Small in his room about 8 o'clock when I went out for a walk with my husband—I returned at 10.55—the public-houses were not closed—I went up stairs and saw Small sitting at the supper-table in his shirt sleeves with his slippers on—I saw him during the day wearing a black coat and hat.
Cross-examined. It rained just a little when I returned—I have seen him go out repeatedly, and never saw him wear a hat of this description—I never saw Mrs. Donovan at the house—I heard laughing and talking on this night but did not see any one—I did not go into the room where he was sitting in his shirt sleeves—I could not see all through the room—he nodded to me and I returned it—the door opens inwards, and I could only see half the room—I heard Mrs. Small talking but oould not see her.
LINGARD and HARFORD PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Lingard in July 1875 at Clerkenwell, and Harford in Oct. 1876 at Wandsworth.
LINGARD** and HARFORD**— Seven Years each in Penal Servitude. SMALL— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted.
JEMIMA PLACE . I am single and assist my brother at 105, Blackman Street, Borough—on Tuesday, 1st. July, I served the prisoner with some pork and potatoes which came to 5d.—he gave me a half-crown—I put it in the till and he left with 2s. 1d. change, smiling as he passed the window, upon which I examined the half-crown—it was the only one there—it was bad, and I put it on one side and afterwards gave it to Underhill—on 4th July the prisoner come again for some mutton, and then altered his mind and had some pork, which came to 8d.—he said he could not afford more than 6d. and gave me a bad half-crown—I gave him in charge with the coin, and said to the constable, "This man came on Tuesday and gave me a bad half-crown, and he has brought another now;" he said, "I have never been in the house before, you are mistaken"—I recognised him instantly on the 6th July.
MILLICENT THOENTON . I am the wife of Joshua Thornton—I saw the prisoner in Place's shop on Friday, 4th July, and Mrs. Place showed me a bad half-crown in his presence, and he was given in custody; he said he had not been there before, but I am certain he was, Ice I saw him there on the Wednesday previous.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. While you were being served I went for a constable.
AMOS UNDBRHILL . (Policeman M 259). On Friday, 4th July, Mrs. Thornton fetched me to Mrs. Place's shop and the prisoner was given into my custody for uttering two bad half-crowns, one that evening, and one a day or two before—he said, "I hare never been in the shop before, and I did not know the half-crown was bad"—I found Id. on him—he said he would give me his address as well as he could, but he did not know the name of the street—I produce the half-crown.
Cross-examined. You told me you had been at work at Spear's the coppersmith's at Bankside, and were discharged through the slackness of trade, and that they would give you a character—I went there, but they did not know you by the name of Robinson—you also gave me an address at 27, Goodman's Yard, Minories; I went there and found that you had been discharged from there—I found your lodging because you told me what streets to go down—they described you there, but did not know you as Robinson.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was out on the Friday, and feeling hungry, I went to the cook's shop, ordered something,
and gave her the half-crown, and thought it was good." He repealed the same statement in his defence, adding that he got the two half-crowns by playing at skittles.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
WILLIAM ELY . I keep the Bed Lion public-house, Wandsworth—about 10.45 a.m. on 23rd July, Smith came for a pint of 4d. ale, and gave me a shilling—I put it in the till and gave him 10d. change—there were only half-crowns, 2s. pieces, and sixpences there—about 5 minutes after he left, Sheen came in for half-a-pint of four-half and 1d. worth of tobacco—he put down a shilling—I said, "Look here, that won't do for me; I don't want those sort of tricks played here!" and I took it and examined it, and saw it was bad—he said, "It is good enough; what do you mean? I should not have brought it in if I knew it was a bad one"—I said, "It won't do for me"—he put it in his pocket and pulled out two halfpence for the beer, which he drank, and put back the tobacco, and went out towards Battersea—I watched him round as far as Grapes Court—I then went back and looked at the shilling Smith had given me, and found it was exactly like the one Sheen had tendered—later in the day I gave it to a detective.
JANE LADLES . I live at York Tavern, York Road, Battersea, where I assist in the bar—between 11 and 12 a.m. a man came in and asked for half-a-pint of beer, and tendered a shilling, which I put in the till—I gave him the change and he left—I do not identify him—almost immediately after he left Wyatt came in, and asked for 1d. worth of tobacco and tendered a shilling, which I could tell by the grating of it was bad—I put it on the counter—I said it was bad, and he put the tobacco back, took up the shilling, and went out—I then looked in the till and found that the shilling the other man had given me was bad—later in the day Detective Conquest came to the house and I gave it to him—two men named Rogers and Weston were in the house.
Cross-examined by Wyatt. I swear you came in—I don't know that you are different in appearance now—I don't know whether you had whiskers.
Cross-examined by Smith. I do not recognise you.
EDWIN WESTON . I am a labourer of Marl Street, Wandsworth—I was in the York Tavern between 11 and 12 on 23rd July—Sheen came in—I saw him served, take up his change, and leave—almost immediately after Wyatt came in—he had a little hair on the chin—I see no difference in him—he tendered a shilling which was bad—I afterwards saw him go over to Sheen outside, about 50 yards from where I was standing—they went away—I communicated with Detective Conquest.
Cross-examined by Sheen. I cannot say what you put down—it was a bit of money—you had your drink and away you went with your change—I swear to you.
GEORGE ROGEES . I live at 64, Usk Road, Battersea, and am an engine driver—on 23rd July between 11 and 12 I was in the York Tavern—Weston was there—Sheen came in and had half a pint of beer and 1d. worth of tobacco, and Wyatt came in and asked for 1d. worth of tobacco, and was refused.
Cross-examined by Wyatt. I know you by your appearance—you had the same clothes on, I believe—I don't think you had any whiskers—I identified you at the police-court without any difficulty.
Re-examined. I saw the prisoners in custody not half-an-hour after they went out of the house.
RICHARD CANTRILL SHARMAN . I keep the Clarence public-house at Clapham Junction—at about 12.20 on 23rd July Wyatt came in and my wife served him with 1d. worth of tobacco for which he tendered a shilling, and she gave him 11d. change, and put the shilling in the till—Detective Conquest then spoke to me and I looked in the till, where there was the shilling and some sixpences—the shilling was bad—I saw Sheen in another part of the bar—I gave the bad shilling to the detective.
CHARLES WAKELEY . I keep the French Horn public-house, at Wandsworth—on Tuesday or Wednesday, 22nd or 23rd July, Wyatt came in and had some ale—after he left I looked in the till and found a bad shilling.
Cross-examined by Wyatt. I picked you out of about twenty men at the police-station the week after I served you—I cannot swear what with exactly.
GEORGE CONQUEST (Detective V). At about 12 o'clock on 23rd July, Weston spoke to me, and in consequence I went with two other officers in search of two men—when I got to the York Road I saw the three prisoners together—I watched them turn up Plough Lane and go along Winstanley Road—they stopped at the corner of Currey Road, and Sheen gave something to Wyatt, who then left the others and went to the "Clarence" in Winstanley Road—I followed him into the same compartment, and I saw Sheen in the opposite compartment—Smith followed me in—I was in plain clothes—I saw Mrs. Sharman serve Wyatt with some tobacco, and give him his change—Smith was then served with some beer, for which he paid 1d.—Smith left, and Wyatt picked up his change, filled his pipe, and left—I told Mr. Sharman to look in his till—he did so, and gave me a shilling—I went out and took Wyatt, who was walking away very fast—I said, "I shall take you into custody for uttering a counterfeit shilling;" he said, "All right, I know nothing about it"—I then took him into the "Clarence" and searched him, and found on him a good sixpence and sixpence in bronze—he must have had a penny when he tendered the shilling—I said to Mrs. Sharman in his presence, "Look at your other till"—with that she went and searched it, and brought out another bad shilling, which we supposed was tendered by Sheen, who was in that compartment—I produce those and the one given me by Ladler—Wyatt said he lived at Whitechapel. Cross-examined by Wyatt. You were walking away sharp—on the way to the station after a time you began to limp, and I said, "You have bad feet," but when you were searched it was found to proceed from another complaint.
Cross-examined by Smith. You followed in close after me.
WILLIAM SHOOBRIDGE (Detective B). I was with Conquest on 23rd July, and followed the prisoners to the corner of Currey Road—Wyatt went into the Clarence, and Badger and I watched the other two outside—they went into the Clarence and left one shortly after the other—I followed Smith and Sheen—they walked down the Currey Road into the Meyrick Road and joined, when Sheen passed something to Smith—I
caught hold of Smith, and Badger took Sheen—Smith threw something away, and struggled to get away—in so doing his coat sleeve was torn, and I caught him by the collar and told him I was a police officer, and should take him—I took him into the Shakespeare public-house and searched him, and found 15 sixpences and 5s. 5 1/2 d. in bronze, all good, and a quantity of loose tobacco, evidently sold in pennyworths or twopennyworths—when I told him the charge he said, "You have made mistake"—I searched the place where Smith threw something away; but found nothing—Ely produced to me Smith's shilling—I produced a shilling given me by Wakeley.
JAMES BADGES (Detective B). I was with the two last witnesses, and saw the three prisoners together—I saw Wyatt leave Sheen and Smith and go in the direction of the Clarence—when they came out I followed them with Shoobridge, and stopped them in the Meyrick Road—I took Sheen and searched him—I found on him a counterfeit shilling wrapped in paper and two half-pence.
SMITH'S DEFENCE . I work for a fish-salesman in Billingsate—I went into Mr. Sharman's to ask for some ale, and after that Sheen stops me to ask if I had a lucifer—I put my hand in my pocket and gave it him; two detectives came up, and said they wanted me for passing bad money—I know nothing about it—I have been five years at work in one place. Sheen's Defence. I left my place at a greengrocer's shop in Lambeth on account of his son coming up from the country. I had been a work there since 28th June. On Monday morning I went down to Kingston, and then I went to Wandsworth, where I changed a 2s. piece, and got 1s. 9d. change. I went as far as the Currey Road, when I was stopped. I had 1s. 1d. left, having spent 8d. more. I asked Smith for a lucifer, when Detective Badger came up and said, "I put your father away for 10 years, and no I will put the son away." I can swear my father never done anything of the sort in his life.
GUILTY . Wyatt also
PLEADED GUILTY** to having been convicted at Newington in July, 1878.
WYATT— Two Years' Imprisonment.
SMITH and SHEEN— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
Before Mr. Recorder.
750. FRANCIS TARRINGTON (49), HENRY ATKINS (23), and SAMUEL TARRINGTON (44) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Stephen Barron, and stealing therein a quantity of plate and other articles, the goods of Cassandra Barron.
MR. REID. Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY appeared for Samuel Tarring ton, and MR. FRITH for Francis Tarring ton and Atkins.
CAROLINE MOON . I am housemaid to Mrs. Barron, of 16, Norfolk Terrace, Bays water, and was left in charge of the house in June—I went out on the evening of the 27th about 8.10—the windows were all fastened, and I believe all the doors, but am not certain that the area door and the door leading from the area to the kitchen were fastened, but I always fastened them when I went out—I returned about 9.30, and found the front door key on the mat—there was no light in the hall—I went into the housekeeper's room and into the kitchen to light the gas,
and found the door open between the kitchen and scullery, and I supposed I had forgotten to lock it—I also found the scullery door open—I went to the front doorstep and sent a young man for a policeman, and he went down with me and found the things disturbed in the drawing-room—in the Major's bedroom the wardrobe was broken open, two drawers were lying on the floor, and articles were lying about—I did not miss anything—I do not. know what was in the wardrobe.
ELIZA CONYBERE . I am lady's maid to Mrs. Barron—on 16th June I put the plate in this green bag in a wardrobe in the drawing-room, and have given a list of it to Chamberlain—I have seen all the articles produced; they are part of them.
WILLIAM KEETH (Policeman L 223). At 4.50 p.m. on 28th June at the York Hotel, York Road, Waterloo Road, C 174 pointed Atkins out to me—he was carrying a box—I followed him, and he went into 56, York Street—a woman was standing at the door—I then saw Samuel Tarrington coming down the street—the woman at the door called "Samuel"—I went to the house and said, "Has a young man brought a box here?"—Samuel Tarrington said "Yes"—I said "Is the box yours?"—he said "Yes"—I said "What is in it?"—he said "Clothes"—I said "It's too heavy for clothes"—he said "Come upstairs and see if you don't believe it"—I went up and saw Atkins in the room, and the box was on the chair—I said "Open the box and let us see"—Atkins said "I have not got the key"—Samuel Tarrington began to feel his pockets, and said "I have not got the key"—Atkins said "Ah! I forgot, it is not looked," and he partly untied the cord and lifted the lid a little, and said "You can see it is only clothes"—we untied the string and lifted the sack at the top and saw this plate (produced) underneath—this is the box—I said "We can see it is not clothes"—he made no reply—Samuel Tarrington said to Atkins "I wish your—neck was broken before you brought it in"—Atkins said nothing—I took him in custody for stealing the plate.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Samuel Tarrington said at the station that he was innocent and knew nothing about it—I did not hear him say he did not leave work till 4 o'clock, and I do not remember telling the Magistrate he said so—he said he had only just left work—he paid for a cab to the station rather than go with me through the streets—I have made no inquiries about him—he did not tell me he had been working at Lucas and Aird's, contractors—I expect Elson has made inquiries—I went into the house a few minutes after Atkins went in—Samuel Atkins came down in his shirt sleeves—he said yes in answer to my question whether the box was his—I told the Magistrate I asked him that question—I could not see the box was not locked until we untied it—Mahoney (L 174) was upstairs with me all the time—after Atkins said he had not got the key Samuel Tarrington began to feel in his pocket and said "I have not got the key."
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I did not speak to Atkins outside—he said there were clothes in the box.
JOSEPH ELSON (Police Sergeant L). Shortly after 5 p.m. on Saturday, June 28th, I saw Atkins and Samuel Tarrington in custody at Kennington Road Station, for having this box and plate in their possession—Atkins told me that Francis Tarrington, his stepfather, at 19, New Compton Street, Soho, gave him the box to carry to Sam's—I went there
and saw Francis Tarrington and asked him if he had a son-in-law, Henry Atkins, in his employ—he said, "He works for me on and off; he is out of employment"—I said, "Has he been working for you to-day?" and he said, "No, he was at my shop about 10.30 this morning" I said, "He is in custody for having a box of plate in his possession, and has made a statement implicating you, and you must come with me and hear what he has to say about it"—he said, "I know nothing about it," and went with me—on the way to the station he said, "I suppose some one must have asked him to carry a box, and he has been foolish enough to do so; that is a thing I would not do for any person"—I made no reply—at the Kennington Road Station I repeated in his presence the state-ment Atkins had made to me, and Atkins said, "That is right"—Francis said, "It is false, I know nothing about it!" and afterwards called me and said, "I remember now, a man came to my place this morning and asked if I had a young man who could carry a box for him over the water; I said, 'Yes;' I suppose this must be the box; but it was not brought in my presence, and I have not seen it"—they were all three then charged with unlawful possession of the silver—we afterwards ascertained that it had been stolen from Major Barron, and on examining the premises, I found the area door leading to the scullery had been forced open and the barrel (produced) of the bolt broken off, and the door leading from the scullery to the kitchen had been forced open with a jemmy; the thieves had then gone through the kitchen, up the staircase into the second-floor front bedroom; I saw there a wardrobe which had contained the plate had been opened by force, and another wardrobe from another room from which the linen had been taken—I afterwards searched Francis Tarrington's premises—he is a coal-dealer, and has a forge under the shop—I took several chisels and screwdrivers to compare the marks on the door, but I found Major Burron had caused the house to be put in repair.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Atkins had been out of employment and worked for Tarrington on and off within three weeks of his apprehension—I found a forge and tools at Tarrington's; I don't know if he is a blacksmith.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I have made inquiries and found that Samuel has been in the Army, and I have heard the certificate of his discharge read, and that for the last four years up to the day of his arrest and while out on bail he was in Messrs. Lucas and Aird's employ, and bears an irreproachable character—he has been working there since his committal.
JOHN MAHONEY (Policeman L 174). I saw Atkins on Waterloo Bridge with this box and followed him, and then stepped up to him and said "It is a nice cool evening"—he said, "Yes, it has been a very nice day;" I said, "Have you come home from abroad, or are you carrying a box for a friend?" he said, "No, sir, it is my own"—I said, "What have got in the box?"—he said, "Some clothes"—I said, "Where have you brought the box from?" he said, "From New Compton Street, Soho"—I said, "From what part?"—he said, "My master, the man I work for, sent me with it to a friend of his in York Street"—I said, "What part?"—he said, "I don't know the number, but I know the house, if you don't believe it's all right, come down to the house and see"—I said, "I am perfectly satisfied," and I bade him good evening, and then followed him on the opposite side and met Keeth—what he has stated is correct.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I went up stairs with Keeth in front of him, and Samuel was in front of me, and showed me the box in a room occupied by himself and wife.
CHARLES STEPHEN BARRON . The plated goods produced are my property—the silver value 200l. is still missing—the soup tureen was last used about 15th June, before we left for Folkestone—I have heard the evidence of the breaking and entering, and concur in it—I went up the next day and examined it.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Detective Officer). On the 23rd July, with the Magistrate's permission, I saw Francis Tarrington in a cell—he said, "I wish to tell you the truth about this affair, and then that young woman who gave evidence this morning will be the first one you will take. There were four other men in the job; one of them is her young man, and Scotty is another man; Tom Green is another; I do not know the name of the other young man—the servant's young man I mean. The servant's young man put up the job, and let them in or kept her away, I don't know which, till they got in; they took the stuff to a house in Queen Street, Soho Square, first, but there they would have nothing to do with it; they were back to my house a little after ten the same night, and took it down into my cellar. I saw it was silver or silver plate; it was wrapped up in a sheet, or something of that kind. They wanted me to buy it, but I could not, I had not got the money. They went out saying they would get a buyer, and soon after came back with Tommy Farmer; he bid them 2s. 6d. per ounce for it, but they would not take that, and as Farmer went out of my house he said to me, 'They want all for themselves.' They then brought a man named Stone, a barber, who keeps a shop in Drury Lane, and he gave them 3s. per ounce for it; he (Stone) brought the scales and weighed it in my cellar, and it fetched 57l. odd. I went down again after they had weighed it, and said, 'Ain't you gone yet? Are you going to stop here all night?' Scotty then said, 'There will be an outcry about this soon, as they won't pay the young fellow who got them.' Stone then hired George to carry the things to his house. They all four came to my house on Friday night. I know Scotty and Tom Green, but I had never seen the other two before. The servant's young man is a tall smart young fellow with a dark moustache. The plated stuff that you have got was to be taken to the York Hotel, York Road, and I think it was Tom Green who was going to meet it there at 6 o'clock that evening. I do not know where it was to go from there. My brother (Samuel) does not know anything about it, he is as innocent as a baby"—I took the words down at the time.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. He did not tell me it did not come near his place.
Atkins and Samuel Tarrington received good characters.
F. TARRINGTON and ATKINS— GUILTY of receiving.
SAMUEL TARRINGTON— NOT GUILTY .
F. TARRINGTON— Five Tears' Penal Servitude.
ATKINS*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
751. EDWARD SCOTCHER (55) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Isaac Wendall, and stealing therein two pictures, a decanter, and other articles, and 3s. 7d. in money, his property.
Mr. Austin Metcalfb Prosecuted.
ISAAC WENDALL . I keep the Prince William Henry public-house, Bermondsey Street, and on 26th June about 12 o'clock I was the last person to go to bed, and saw the house safely shut—I fastened and barred the front door—the prisoner is a fellmonger, and was secretary to a society which met in my house, and he was often there—he was there on 26th June till near the time I shut up—I went to bed soon after 12 o'clock, and was roused by the police just after 3 a.m., and told the front door was open—I found standing close to the door ready to be taken away a picture, "Ramsgate Sands," which had been hanging up in the public parlour; another picture of Constantinople had gone altogether, which ad been hanging in the room where the society's meetings were held—I also missed a decanter of port wine, eleven half ounces of tobacco, 3s. 6d. in money, and a small money-box—they were all safe when I went to bed—the value of the goods was from 8l. to 10l.—I examined the premises and found some one had come through the public parlour window, which was left open—the fastening was defective, but it had been closed—nobody could get into the back yard except through the house—these articles produced are all mine.
FRANK BISHOP (Policeman M 325). I was on duty in Bermondsey Street at 3 a.m on 27th June, and saw the prisoner carrying this picture, "Constantinople"—he knocked at the door of a coffee-shop, and I stopped him, and said "How did you come by that?"—he said "I am a picture dealer, and have been going about trying to sell it since 9 o'clock last night"—I asked where he lived, and first he said New Church Street, Jamaica Row, and afterwards at a coffee-shop—I took him to the station, searched him, and found on him eleven half ounces of tobacco, a pocket-book, 3s. 6d. silver, and a penny, two pawn-tickets, a key, and this bowl—I searched his lodgings, 153, Bermondsey Street, and found a tankard of port wine and two bottles of shrub.
SARAH RUSSELL . I am wife of John Russell, of 153, Bermondsey Street, coffee-shop, and prisoner came there on 21st June, and slept there four nights—on the morning of the 27th he knocked at the door and I let him in—he said he had some bottles of colours, and asked me to take them—I said "No; put them down," and he put them down—I was in my night-dress with a waterproof round me—I did not look at them—I saw the policeman search his room—the prisoner had take them from there and put them down in my room—the goods I saw on him were those the policeman has.
JOSEPH PAGE (Police Inspector M). I examined prosecutor's premises on the 27th June—there is a conservatory about 8 feet high at the back—a portion of the wire-netting on the other side of the yard adjoining had been broken away so that a man could pass through—the window level with the roof of the conservatory was pushed down—the fastening was defective.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. FRITH Prosecuted.
Lower Road, Eotherhithe—on Friday night, May 9th, I secured the house and went to bed at 11.30, and on getting up at 4.45 next morning found the drawers wide open, and one pulled out, and the contents strewed about the floor—I missed from the drawers five sheets, a child's coat and cape, an overcoat, a silk scarf, five pairs of stockings, a chemise, a guernsey, and from the cupboard a table-cloth—I called in the police and found the window-fastening in the back yard broken off—and I saw two marks—a person could get over the gates from Maynard Road into the yard—I went to the pawnbroker's at the policeman's request, and saw this shawl and other things there—they are what I missed. Edward Treadaway. I assist Messrs. Adams and Hiilstead, pawn-brokers, 171, Jamaica Road, Bermondsey, and produce a sheet and shawl pledged in the name of Ann Jones, on 10th May, by a woman giving the address on the duplicate—I have since seen and taken pledges from a woman named Ann Jones, but am not sure that she is the same woman.
FRANK BRIERS (Police Sergeant R). On the morning of 10th May I examined the premises at 211, Lower Road, and found the back window had been forced by some instrument, and the catch broken—I found the things strewed all over the room—on the 15th I went to 30, West Lane, Bermondsey, the address given on the pawnticket, with a uniform constable, in consequence of information received, to. the second-floor front room, which was pointed out to me as the prisoner's room, and found the prisoner alone, lying on a mattress—I told him I was a police officer, and I should arrest him tor an attempted burglary—he said, "All right"—he was partly dressed and had his boots and trousers on—I searched him and found in his pocket a pawnticket referring to a pair of boots in the name of John Jones, 30, West Lane—I handed him over to the constable and told him to look after him while I searched, and under the mattress where he had been lying I found this rope and. hook (produced) which is used by housebreakers to throw up to a veranda to pull themselves up—while I was examining the room the prisoner jumped from the top of the stairs to the bottom and escaped—I pursued him, but was unable to find him—he was subsequently arrested by an officer of the M Division—I also found this jemmy—I have compared it With the marks or the impressions on the window—these parts produced containing the impressions have been cut out, and they correspond with tike jemmy.
HARRIET JONES . I am wife of Charles Jones of 30, West Lane—the prisoner took a room from me last February, and slept there about three months—I have never pledged anything for him except his own wearing apparel, and do not know these things produced—I pledged things for him at Mr. Adams's, 171, Jamaica Row, and know Mr. Treadaway—I never pawned these goods—my name was never asked, I only gave the name of Jones—there is no other Jones at 30, West Lane, but I believe there used to be—my husband was not in regular employment. Walter Wag (Detective W) I took this jemmy from the prisoner on the morning of 25th December, and have seen it at the police-court.
GEORGE PAYNE (Police Sergeant N 36). On 20th June I met the prisoner in High Street, Kingsland, and followed him in consequence of information received—I said to him "Let me see; where is it you live. Don't I know you?"—he said "I don't know. I'll tell you where I work'?—I said "Where is it?"—he said "At Nightingale's, Vauxhall"—I said "What are you doing up here?"—he said "I have left that
place and am looking for another shop?"—I said "You answer the exact description of a man wanted for a burglary, and you will have to go with me—he made no reply, but suddenly ducked down and darted away at full speed—I followed him about three-quarters of a mile, and then felt exhausted, and jumped into a cart and followed him till he fell down in the front garden of a house in Queen's Road—he was with some difficulty apprehended and taken to the station.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted at this Court in September, 1876, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY**†.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
MARGARET MILLS . I am wife of Benjamin Mills, of 14, Lombard Street—I have separated from him—I have only known the prisoner about a month before this charge—he had been coming backwards and forwards to see me—I went in a public-house the day this happened, the 27th, with two young girls, and met the prisoner there, and spoke to him—on leaving we both said good-night, and I went home—he came to me an hour after, and knocked at the door three times—I asked what he wanted; he did not answer me—the door was open—he knocked again, and immediately came upstairs and said something to the two girls in the next room, and I went in and shut my door—he pushed the door open, and said "I have got you," and threw me on my little girl's bed and stabbed me in my right breast with a penknife, and said "Will you speak?" and I said "Yes," and got up and went to the door and he followed me—on the landing he said "You can get a policeman and lock me up;" and when I was outside the door he said "You can fetch a policeman, you have got more than you will get over; if I had a bigger knife I'd do for you right out"—I went up the Bridge Road and told a constable, and was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not taken to the hospital before you came down stairs, but while you were standing at the door—there were plenty of larger knives in the room, and you could have got one—on the first day you promised to take me to the Surrey Theatre, and we went into a public-house and had some drink, and when you come down to my house I said, "Wait outside for me," and there was a soldier standing at the door, and he made a hit at me, and you said, "That's your chap," and walked away, and I said he was nothing to do with me—lie was not absent on leave from the barracks that night. Clara Brown. I live at 13, Lombard Street, and know the prisoner and Mills—I was with Mills in her room on Sunday night, the 27th, when the prisoner came—Mills looked out at the front-room window and asked what he wanted, and he would not answer—she said, "If you don't like to answer me you can do the other thing," and came back into her room—he then came up stairs—he looked first in the front room and then dashed her room door open and said, "Now I have got you"—he had a knife in his hand, and I saw him stab her with it twice—I went for a policeman.
Cross-examined. I remember bringing a letter out to you from Mills
one Sunday night—I was in the room when she was stabbed, and little Lizzie was sleeping in a bed on the floor.
CHARLES KING . I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—Margaret Mills was brought there on Sunday at 9.15—she had three stabs in her right breast and three on the left side of her chest—the one in the right breast penetrated the cavity of the thorax, but whether it injured the lung I cannot say—there were also two small cuts on her right thumb—the wounds were caused probably by a small knife, and the one penetrating the thorax was dangerous.
JETHRO BLACK (Policeman M 261). At 9.40 on 27th I was in Southward Bridge Road, and heard screams of "Murder" and "Police" at the bottom of Lombard Street, and on going to the spot I saw a woman bleeding, and asked her what was the matter; she said she was stabbed—I arrested the prisoner; he said, "I stabbed Moggy Mills with a small penknife; if I had a larger knife I would have killed her."
The prisoner in hie defence stated that he had been living with Mills five-or six weeks, who told him she was not married; he saw her with a soldier, who asked him to go to a public-house with him, where there were other soldiers, and the first soldier took off his belt and struck him on the ear, and he thought Margaret Mills had put him up for a hiding, which put him out of temper, and he went home and stabbed her.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, 1879.