CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 28TH, 1881.
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
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OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
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OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
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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 Monday, February 28th, 1881, and following days,
Including certain cases committed to this Court under order in Council, pursudnt to the Spring Assizes Act of 1879,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM McARTHUR, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir NATHANIEL LINDLEY , Knt., one of the Justices of the Common Pleas Division of the High Court of Justice; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., M.P., and Sir THOMAS DAKIN , 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., GEORGE SWAN NOTTAGE , Esq., JOHN STAPLES , Esq., and REGINALD HANSON , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHABLEY, Knt., Q.O., D.O.L., 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.
HEBBERT JAMESON WATERLOW, Esq.,
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
McARTHUR, MAYOR. FIFTH 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 he the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, February 28th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 28th, 1881.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
271. CHARLES KING (36) PLEADED GUILTY to having in his possession a mould for coining. A previous conviction was proved, and it was stated that 13 moulds were found in his possession. — Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
272. JOHN JOHNS** (57) ; to unlawfully uttering a counterfeit half crown, and to a previous conviction for a like offence in March, 1875.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
275. HENRY HEMMING HERITAGE (24) , to two indictments for stealing six postoffice letters, the property of the Postmaster-General — [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude. And
276. LOUIS LEWIS (27) , to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for 4l. 1s. 4d. and 3l. 4s. He received a good character.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Month' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAWFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
CHARLOTTE JAMES . I attend my mother's shop at 109, Rotherfield Street, Islington—on 19th February, about 2.30 p.m., I served the prisoner with one penny worth of mixed sweets; she tendered this shillings; I tried it in my teeth; I asked my sister in the prisoner's presence to take it to the public-house opposite to see if it was good and get change—the
prisoner ran away; I ran after her; she went into a public-house; I met her—she had the sweets that I sold her in a tissue bag in her hand—I said, "Give me back those sweets"—she said, "I have not got them," and put her arm behind her and threw them away, bag and all—she was brought back to the shop—she said she had left a penny on the counter; there was no money there; she moved some bundles of wood with her right hand and dropped a penny with her left hand between the bundles—the constable was there—she picked up the penny and said, "Here is the penny; it has got knocked down"—the constable took it and the shilling.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. No other shilling was on the counter.
ESTHER PHILLIPS . I am the last witness's sister—she told me to take the shilling to the public-house to ask if it was good—Mr. Brooks at the public-house looked at it, said something, and put it on the counter—I brought the shilling back; the prisoner snatched it from my hand; she ran away up Essex Road to a public-house; my sister ran after her.
JOHN CAVANAGH (Policeman N 75). I saw the prisoner going into the Three Brewers—Mrs. James laid hold of her—she gave me the counterfeit shilling and gave the prisoner into custody—the prisoner put her hand behind her and dropped the sweets; they were scattered about—she said, "You have made a mistake, I have not been into your shop"—I went back to the shop with the prisoner and Mrs. James—the prisoner went to some piles of wood under the counter and moved three or four bundles and said, "Here is the penny; it must have dropped off the counter; I know nothing at all about the shilling"—she said at the police-station that she was an unfortunate woman, and had no homenothing was found on her.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. CRAWFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
EDWARD HEARNE (Police Sergeant N). About 4.15 on 3rd February I saw the prisoners together in Islington; I was in plain clothes; I followed them to Mr. Nicholson's, a chemist, of 216, St. paul's Road, Highbury Smiles gave Wallace something; I saw him pass it into his hand—Wallace went into the shop for a short time; he came out; the three prisoners ran down St. Paul's Road into Essex Road; I and Nutkins followed them to 374, Essex Road, where Smiles gave Brown something—that was about 5.20—Brown went into a tobacconist's—I afterwards went in and saw Mrs. Newton—from what she told me I still followed the prisoners along the Essex Road; they separated and rejoined; we secured them; I took Smiles—I said, "I am a police-officer"—he said, "What do you want me for?"—I said, "I believe you have got bad money about you"—he asked to be allowed to put his hand into his pocket to get a bit of tobacco—I said he would have to wait till he got to the station—at the station he dropped two florins and half a crown through the leg of his trousers; I saw them come out at the bottom; I picked them up—I searched him; I found 11 sixpences, six shillings, and 1s. 3d. in bronze—I went the same evening to Mr. Nicholson's shop—I saw Mr. Dalkin, and received from him a counterfeit florin, which I saw him take
from his till; I marked it in his presence—Smiles made no reply to the charge. (Smiles and Brown here stated that they intended to PLEAD GUILTY.)
CHARIES NUTKIN (Detective N). I confirm Hearne's evidence—I arrested Wallace; I told him I should take him into custody for having bad money—he said "I have got no sniding on me," which means, I think, passing bad money—I took him to the station and searched him—I found a seidlitz-powder and two corn plasters on him with Mr. Nicholson's label in his pocket; also some pawntickets and playing cards—he took the corn plasters from my hand, chewed them, and spit them out on the floor—I searched Brown also, and found a counterfeit florin in his coat pocket and two corn plasters.
Cross-examined by Wallace. I did not tell you you were taken for snidepitching—we had a difficulty in getting you to the station—I did not hear you ask what you were charged with—I did not say to you "If you get him off I will give you best, you cannot lick me;" nor that I would give you a chalk, nor anything of the kind.
FREDERICK DALKIN . I am assistant to Mr. Nicholson, chemist, of 216, St. Paul's Road, Islington—about 4.30 p.m. on 3rd February I served Wallace with two corn plasters and a seidlitz powder—he tendered a two-shilling piece—I gave him the change, the price being threepence—I put it in the till—no other florin was in the till—about an hour and a half afterwards an officer came, and in consequence of what he said I looked in the till and found this bad florin (produced)—it was marked in my presence—I recognise the mark, also the seidlitz packet—I gave the prisoner a shilling, sixpence, and three coppers.
Cross-examined by Wallace. You Were fetohed out of the cells with several prisoners—I recognised you—it is not true that I said I could not swear to you till the detective knocked my arm, when I said all right—I picked you out at once; I had a good look round to be perfectly sure, but I did not hesitate.
SARAH NEWTON . I am the wife of Benjamin Newton, tobacconist, of 374, Essex Road, Islington—I served Brown about 4.40 p.m. with a twopenny cigar—he tendered a two-shilling piece—I tried it in my teeth—it was not good—I said "This is not good;" he said "Isn't it? I believe it is"—I gave it him back, and took back the cigar—he did not ask me for it—my husband was ill at the time, and I was so troubled I did not know what I was doing for the moment—Hearne came into the shop five minutes afterwards—I told him what had passed.
Cross-examined by Wallace. I did not see you get out of the police van—I did not swear to any one at the police-court, I said it was to the best of my recollection—I am positive now it was Brown.
Wallace's Statement before the Magistrate. "I met the two prisoners at the corner of Essex Road, and walked with them as far as Windsor Street. Then the constable caught hold of us and said he wanted me for snide-pitching. I said I had no snide, and had nothing on me. I had neither corn-plasters or seidlitz powders, and no bad money either."
Wallace in defence, called,
GEORGE SMILES . I have pleaded guilty. I met Wallace at the corner of Britannia and Essex Roads—I asked him whether he was going towards the Angel—Brown said "We are going somewhere, and do not want you"—I was just leaving when we were taken into custody—no corn-plasters
or seidlitz powders were found on wallace; they were found on Brown—the detective said if I got Wallace off he would give me best—I do not remember your saying "Where is that corn-plaster?" and the detective saying "You have swallowed it"—he did say at the police-station "I saw so corn-plasters in Wallace's mouth"—we were all called put of the cells—the chemist said he could not swear to Wallace at first—the detective did something, I do not know what it was, them the chemist said Wallace was the man that was with us that day.
HARRY BROWN. I have pleaded guilty—Wallace was not with us till we came to the Britannia and Essex Roads—no seidlitz powders or corn plasters were taken from Wallace—the detective said to me "If you get Wallace off I will give you best."
GUILTY .** WALLACE also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in October, 1879.— Two years' Imprisionment.
BROWN and SMILES— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.
MESSRS CRAWFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
ALICE BIGGS . I am assistant to Mr. Henry Adams, draper, of Goldhawk Road, Hammersmith—on 11th February about 3 p.m. I served the prisoner with a pocket-handkerchief at 7 3/4 d.—he gave me half-a-crown with a penny on the top of it—from what I saw I called Mrs. Adams—she came and asked him if it was his and if he knew it was bad—he made no reply—she said "I have tad so many bad half-crowns that I have said the next one that came in I would prosecute"—she sent me for a police-man—the prisoner ran to the door—he took the handkerchief with him—she ran after him; he pushed her aside and got away—she followed him he was brought back in about twenty minutes—he had left the half-crown and the penny—I gave the half-crown to the constable—this is it.
ANNIE ADAMS . I am the wife of Henry Adams, who keeps this shop—I was called by the last witness—she showed me the half-crown before I got in the shop—I said to the prisoner "Is this your half-crown;" he said "Yes;" I said "I have had so many cases of trying to pass bad money that I have made up my mind to prosecute; do you know it is bad?"—he said nothing—I sent Biggs for a policeman—I stood with my back to the door, and said "You will not leave this shop"—he gave me a push and got by—the door opened outwards—I followed and cried out "Stop him"—I went about four houses and lost sight of him—he was brought back in some little time—he took the handkerchief with him—he had not it when he was brought back by the inspector—I said "This Is the man with gloves"—he had fur top gloves on—the handkerchief was brought back to the shop.
WILLIAM WOODS . I am a bricklayer of 3, Broadmoor Park Villas, Hammersmith—I saw the prisoner run out of the shop, and run near the Shepherd's Bush Station, and throw something, away—I lost sight of him for several minutes—I saw him again in the Uxbridge Road, walking sharply—I pointed him out to the inspector—he went into the public-house.
JAMES WALLACE . I am a railway ticket collector, at Shepherd's Bush Railway Station—I heard people running—I saw the prisoner throw Something over the barrier—I got across and picked up this handkerchief wrapped in a piece of paper—about twenty minutes afterwards a policeman Drought the prisoner, and I handed it to him.
EDWARD PITTS (Police Inspector X). On the 11th February, in consequence of what Woods said to me, I what into a public-house with him, where I saw the prisoner—he came with me to Mrs. Adam's shop—the prosecutrix there said the prisoner had passed a bad half-crow—Woods said in the prisoner's presence that he had thrown the handkerchief into the railway station at Shepherd's Bush, and I called there and this handkerchief was handed to me by Wallace—at the shop Mrs. Adams looked in the prisoner's face and said "This is the man"—the prisoner made no remark to that, but he said to another person who is not a witness "I will answer it at the proper place"—the prisoner took a penny off the counter and put it in the ticket-pocket of his coat—I asked him why he did it—he said "It belongs to be," and the prosecutrix explained that he had placed it over the half-crown—she identified the handkerchief—she said to the prisoner "Why did you run away if you were not guilty?"—he said "I was afraid I should he locked up"—I said "What is your address"—he said "I have got a wife who is sick, and I do not wish to give any address"—I said "Why not? If you do not it will possibly he worse for you"—he said "I am the best judge of that"—I found on him a shilling, sixpence, and fourpence in bronze good money, and a pawn-ticket.
Prisoner's Defence. It never entered my head that the half-crown was bad till the lady came down like a mad woman and said it was bad I bought the pawn-ticket found on me.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 1st, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
280. HENRY MONTAGUE (31) PLEADED GUILTY to five indictments for feloniously forging and uttering bills of exchange for 525l., 272l., 120l., 47l., and 115l., with intent to defraud,— *Ten Years' Penal Servitude
MESSRS POLAND and GORE Prosecuted; MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. and HOLLINS Defended.
WILLIAM PENROSE . I am manager to Matthew Rose, a draper, of Mare Street, Hackney—he has had business transactions with the prisoner for some tune—in September last he was indebted to us 4l. 17s. 4d. as a customer—I had applied to him several times for payment—at the latter end of September he called at our shop, produced this bill for 10l. 8s., dated 21st September, at two months, drawn by J. Crewe and accepted R. Larchin, payable at the Royal Exchange Bank—he said he could not pay the amount of his debt and would we accept this as security; we agreed to do so—the bill became due on 24th November—he called on Friday, the 26th, and asked if it had been presented—I said "Yes"—he said "You have made a mistake, it is not due yet," and he wished ns to send to the bank to see if it had been paid—we sent on Monday morning, and found that it had been paid—he called again on the Monday and our clerk handed him the balance of the 10l. 8s., after deducting the 4l. 17s. 4d.
Robert Larchin kept an account there—on 24th November this cheque was paid through the clearing.
Cross-examined. I have not had many bills drawn by Crewe and accepted by Larchin pass through my hands; I only know of one; they would not necessarily pass through my hands—10l. 10s. was paid in by some one on 29th November to Mr. Larchin's account—this is the credit slip; I can't say whose writing it is—I have seen Mr. Larchin's handwriting; I cannot tell whether this is his.
ROBERT LABCHIN . I carry on business at 4, Finsbury Circus—I am secretary to an Italian sulphur company—I kept an account at the Royal Exchange Bank, Cornhill—no part of this acceptance is my writing—I never authorised the prisoner or any one to sign it for me; I always sign my own cheques—I first ascertained about 10th or 12th December that it had been paid at the bank and entered to my account—I immediately wrote to the prisoner to call on me; be did not come—Mr. Mobbs, a friend of his, called about two days afterwards; I had a conversation with him—afterwards a warrant was obtained by the bank—on 13th May, 1879, the prisoner applied to me by this letter to make him an advance of 30l. on a bill at three months; it was sent in to me while I was at a board meeting, and I wrote on the back of it that I could not procure him anybody else's acceptance, but he might have mine—he thereupon drew on me for 30l., which bill matured on 30th August—I have here the entry, "My acceptance to Crewe, he to pay 30l. 15s."—he was to meet the bill either by payment of the money in or by withdrawing the bill from circulation, which he did; it was never presented; I never had the slightest benefit from it—according to the entry in my diary that bill was renewed for 31l. at two months; therefore I presume he was not in a position to meet it—the 31l. bill was due on 1st November, 1879—on that occasion it was retired by a payment of 5l., and renewed at 26l. that became due on 9th December; it was paid into my bankers, that being the only bill that was presented there—I handed that bill to Mr. Mobbs, at his request—there is not the slightest truth in the sugges-tion that I authorised the prisoner to sign my name, or that he was to pay in 10l. 10s. to meet this bill.
Cross-examined. There was only this one bill transaction between us—I never accepted any other bill but this, and its renewals—as a commission agent he has procured discounts for me, for which I have paid him commission—I have had several transactions with him in business, not acceptances of mine, drafts of mine accepted by other persons, about a dozen, perhaps, not more—on one or two occasions I accepted these renewals in blank for him to fill in the amounts—they were on a 3d. bill stamp; he told me he hoped to reduce the amount—I should say I have accented six or seven bills at his request, two or three of which were in blank; he was to pay in the money to meet them; he never did so till the last occasion—I have a record in my diary of the different bills; they all relate to the same bill—this pay slip of 29th November for 10l. 10s. is not my writing; I believe it is his—he did not advise me that he had paid in 10l. 10s. to meet the 10l. 8s. bill; he generally came to me the day before the bills came due to renew them—I have negotiated with him about advances on property and sundry matters—I never repudiated a bill and subsequently admitted that it was my writing—the bank sent to me on one occasion to take up a bill which they said was my
signature; I said it was not, that it was a forgery; they compared it with the signature-book, and said they could see no difference in the signature—that was some time in January this year; it was one of many bills drawn by the prisoner; 17 of them have turned up since—I have known him 20 years; we were on very intimate terms.
Re-examined. The limit of a 3d. stamp is 25l.—the object of leaving the amounts in blank was that he hoped to reduce it, if not he would have to renew for the full amount.
JOHN MOBBS . I was trustee to pay the prisoner's creditors in full, and the residue to the wife and family—I called on Mr. Larchin on 28th January; previous to that I had received a communication from the prisoner—it was not altogether on that account that I called—he handed me over this 25l. bill, which was due on 9th December.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that in my opinion the 10l. 8s. bill was in Mr. Larchin's handwriting; I am still of the same opinion—I have known the prisoner several years—he was on very intimate terms with Mr. Larchin—he has always borne the character of a respectable man—he was in the habit of carrying a pistol for three or four years; he had a pocket made expressly for it.
Re-examined. I say now that I think the bill is Mr. Larchin's handwriting—I have not made an opposite statement to Mr. Larchin or his partner, Mr. Gush, or to the police-sergeant—I have had several conversations with Mr. Gush; I produced to him a list of bills which I said were in the prisoner's writing; I called out the amounts—it was not a list of bills which the prisoner said he had forged; he merely handed me a list of bills which were then floating—they were not all bills purporting to be drawn by the prisoner on Mr. Larchin; I can't say how many were—I said if the bills were forgeries he ought to be punished; I did not say there was no doubt they were forgeries.
JOHN MITCHELL (City Detective Sergeant). On 10th January a warrant was put into my hands for the prisoner's apprehension—he carried on business in Chancery Lane, but he had not been there for some considerable time—I was not able to find him until 2nd February; I was then watching the London and North-Western booking-office at Albert Gate, when I saw the prisoner enter; I addressed him as Mr. Crewe; he said "Yes"—I said "I am a detective officer of the City of London police, I hold a warrant, for your arrest, which I will read to you;" I read the warrant; he said "My name is not William John Boulcott Crewe, but Joseph Boulcott William Crewe"—I said "Are you the person referred to in this warrant?" he said, "Yes, I believe I am, it is all a mistake; I have paid the money in to meet two bills of Mr. Larchin's, one of which is a bill of 14 guineas referred to in the warrant"—I then took him to the City; on the way he put his hand into one of his pockets, and took from it this pistol, and said "Be careful, it is loaded and capped; lean do no mischief now"—he was searched, and a bill was found on him, one of the renewals for 25l.
The bills and other documents were handed to the Jury for comparison, and they expressed their opinion that the signature alleged to be a forgery was the genuine signature of Mr. Larchin.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GORE Prosecuted; MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and HOLLINGS Defended.
ANDREW WILLIAM TIMBRELL . I am a clerk in the employ of Mr. Eyre, a solicitor, of Eastcheap—in August, 1879, he recovered judgment against the prisoner for 52l. 12s. 6d., a balance of 8l. 10s. was still unpaid last year—the prisoner came to our office with this bill for 14l. 14s., and left it with me as security for the payment of that balance—it came due on 4th December—I did not myself present it.
GEORGE HARPER . I am cashier to Mr. Eyre—I received this bill from Timbrell—I presented it at the bank, it was cashed, and I handed the balance, 6l. 4s., to the prisoner, and he gave me this recoipt for it.
Cross-examined. It was cashed at the Royal Exchange Bank—I presume that was Mr. Larchin's bank—they made no hesitation in paying it.
ROBERT LARCHIN . This acceptance is not my writing, or written by my authority—I produce a genuine signature of mine; I can point out differences between the two; the "d" in the word "accepted;" the "B" in "Bank;" and the "k" in "bank;" and the "r" in the signature—I have an entry in my diary of every renewal of the 30l. bill—with the exception of those renewals I never accepted any bill for the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I still flay that the 10l. 8s. bill is a forgery—15l. was paid in to my bank on the same day that the 14l. 14s. bill became due; but not by me—the 25l. bill was due on 9th December; the 15l. was paid in on 4th December.
MESSRS. POLAND, MONTAGU WILLIAMS, and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted;
MESSRS. BESLEY and MEAD Defended. There being no actual proof that the child in question was the prisoner's, the JURY found the prisoner
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, March 1st, 1881.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
JESSIE ELLEN JESSOP . I am barmaid at the Cross Keys in Endell Street—on the 11th February, about 11 p.m., I served the prisoner with a pot of sixpenny ale—some one was with him—they drank the ale—Hurley tendered this medal—I showed it to the landlady—she asked him where he got it from—he said from his employers in the afternoon—I marked it—Mr. Cribb, the landlord, also asked him where he got it
from—he said from his employer—Mr. Cribb asked him for money to pay for the ale—he said he had not got it—the potman went for a constable.
FRANK CRIBB . I am the landlord of the Cross Keys—I saw the medal produced marked—my wife brought it to me—I said to the prisoner "Are you going to pay for this pot of sixpenny ale?"—he said "I have given the missis a sovereign, I want my change"—I told my potman to fetch a policeman—I then went to the department the prisoner was in—as I was going a young man put his head in at the door and said "Sh—t! sh—t!" and ran away—the prisoner said "I got it for a week's work at the Graphic"—that was in answer to my question where he got it from.
JOHN PARSONG . I live at 124, The Grove, Hammersmith—I am manager of the Graphic printing office—a boy named Hurley left our employ on 27th March, 1870—he was like the prisoner—I cannot speak positively—he had 8s. a week—this is the first Hanoverian medal I have seen.
ROBERT JESSOP (Policeman E 143). I took the prisoner into custody—I found nothing on him—I asked him where he got the medal from, he said from Mr. Parsons, he was paid at 3 o'clock on Saturday at the printing office of the Graphic.
Prisoner's Defence. I was asked by a man and a boy if I wanted to earn anything by wheeling a barrow, and while the man sent the boy to fetch "Joe," as he said, he gave me this coin to get a drop of beer. I did not know what it was. This is the frist time I have been looked up.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, March 1st, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HENRY NICHOLLS . I am the manager of the City Bank, Limited, Holborn Branch—I know the prisoner as a printers' broker or appraiser—he opened an account at our bank in December, 1879—on the 20th October last he brought me this bill of exchange for 67l. 10s. at four months. purporting to be accented by C. Rowland Brown—I discounted it—I placed the amount to his credit—on the 2nd November he brought me this bill for 35l. 15s. dated 26th October, 1880, at four months, and purporting to be accepted by C. Rowland Brown—I discounted it and placed the amount to his credit—on the 23rd January last he brought this bill for 76l. 15s., drawn at three months, and purporting to be accepted by C. Rowland Brown—he asked me to discount it and I declined—he called again the following day, when I advanced him 30l. on security of the bill until the following morning—on the 24th we cashed this cheque for 50l. towards which the 30l. was advanced—on the 3rd February the prisoner came to the bank with another customer—I
asked him if the bills he held purporting to be accepted by Brown were forged, and he said they were.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. When you asked me to cash the bill in January for 76l. 15s. there was a balance of 68l. of yours at the bank—the portion of reserve that you left with me was to stand against any bills under discount.
CHARLES ROWLAND BROWN . I am a printer, of 40, Sun Street, Bishopsgate Street—I have had business transactions with the prisoner—in October I gave him an acceptance as an ordinary business transaction—in due course it was paid in January—neither of these bills are accepted by me or by my authority—I know nothing of them—they are rather an imitation of my signature.
Cross-examined. You called at my office and admitted that you had forged my signature and that you wished to take the bills up.
HENRY RANDALL (City Police Officer). On 4th February I took the prisoner in custody on a warrant in Norfolk Road, Dalston—I told him the charge was for forging an acceptance for 67l. 10s.—he said "I must have been mad to have done such a thing"—I then conveyed him to the Snow Hill Police-station where he was charged, and when it was read over to him he said "I admit it, I am guilty"—he said he did it to oblige a friend.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate read. "I should like to say that I had no intention to defraud. It was my fully fixed determinato pay each bill."
By the Prisoner. I have known you eight or nine years in connection with machinery and believed you to be a respectable and honest man.
The Prisoner in his defence said that he had been working very hard in London for 30 years to maintain himself his mother and sister, and during the last ten years he had started in the printing business, but through want of capital and introduction to a loan society he had lost everthing, and it had affected his brain, and that two years ago he lost his mother, which had affected him much.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
RICHARD LOWE (Policeman X 90). On the 4th February I went on my beat at about 10 p.m.—shortly after 12 I passed 53, Ossington Street—I tried the door and found it secure—at 12.45 I was in Victoria Grove Mews, where I saw three men about three yards from me—I recognise the prisoners as two of them—Hayes got on a low wall at the rear of the Champion public-house and looked over—he got down again and joined the other two—I was concealed—they went down Ossington Street—I
saw one of them go into a front garden—he came out again and joined the other two and went as far as the top of Leinster Mews—I then lost sight of them—I went down the street, and in about 20 minutes I heard a noise at 53, Ossington Street in the passage—I saw the door open and turned my light on and saw the prisoners—I pushed the door and it was slammed to me—I sprang my rattle, and Police-constable X 78 came up and we got over the wall—we found the prisoners in the yard at the back of No. 53—we took them into custody.
Cross-examined. I should pass this street about four times between 10.30 and 12.45—I saw no light in the shop—there are shutters and a blind—I hid in a doorway—I was in uniform—the prisoners stood with their faces towards me for about a minute, about 100 yards from No. 53.
GEORGE EGGLETON (Policeman X 787). On the morning in question I was in Moscow Road, when I heard a rattle sprung—I ran to Ossington Street and ran down the mews, where I saw a ladder, by which I got over into the yard of 53—the prisoners were trying to scale the wall but they fell back, and I immediately apprehended them—they said nothing.
FRANCIS FEWSTER . I am a carpenter and builder, and occupy 53, Ossington Street—I let apartments and use the lower part of the house as a workshop—I don't sleep there—I left the previous evening at 8.45 having shut up the place—I was called up at 1.30 and met the constable bringing the prisoners down the Moscow Road—in the shop I found a desk wrenched open and different tools moved and other things shifted; I missed my boots, which I put in the fender to air, a file moved off the mantelpiece, and a five-inch mortice chisel off the rack—the window on the first landing was knocked out and the water-pipe pulled down; they were safe the night before when I left.
Cross-examined. My boots were found in the closet.
The Prisoners received good characters.
GUILTY. STEVES PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment
HAYES— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
AMOS ATKINSON (Police Sergeant X). On the night of 7th February I was in the Stewards' Arms public-house, Notting Hill, between 9 and 10 o'clock, where I saw the prisoners with another man—I heard Bryan say to them "We will do it after the house is closed, I have a good thing in my pocket"—I went out, and about 12.5 I saw the prisoners leave together—I followed them, and saw another man join them—I don't know whether it was the same who was with them before—in the Pharaoh Road I saw Bryan take something from his pocket which shone, and he put it in a door and rattled the lock—after a few minutes he came away and spoke to Kelly, who was standing on the kerb—he then came back and put a key in the door, and left it again, and spoke to Kelly, and then went to the window—he went back again to the door and to
the window, and was unsuccessful—I then heard him say "We will go to the back," and I and Police-constable Hannah, who was with me, went to the back of the house, and took them info custody—there were several young men round Bryan—I said "I am a police officer, and shall take you info custody for attempting to break into a house in the Pharaoh Road"—Hannah said "What have you here?" and he put his hand down inside his coat, and took out this large screwdriver—I said "What do you call that?"—he said "I borrowed that to do a job in the morning"—I searched him, and found two latchkeys, knife, memorandum-book, and this screw implement—I am certain of the men; they were drank.
RICHARD HANNAH (Policeman X 879). I was with Atkinson in the Stewards' Arms, and saw the prisoners—I overheard the conversation, and went to the back of No. 19 with Atkinson, where I saw Kelly being held by some young men—Young took him into custody—I said to Bryan "What have you got here?"—he said "I have that to do a job with"—Kelly was searched, and these gloves and knife found on him.
Cross-examined by Bryan. You went three times to the door of the house, to the best of my recollection, and then you said to Kelly "It's no good here; we will go round to the back"—I saw you strike a light.
— YOUNG (Policeman T 598). I took Kelly into custody, who was being detained by some young men—he said "This is a matter of form"—the young men said they had seen him trying to get into a house.
FREDERICK HICKS . I am a plumber, of 61, Pharaoh Road; Hammersmith—I was passing down the Pharaoh Road shortly before 1 a.m., with some friends, when I saw the prisoners—Bryan was at the door of No. 19, and, passing a little farther on, we noticed Kelly and another man named Smith, not in custody, leaning against the railings—Bryan appeared to be trying at the lock, and one of my friends called to him to know what he was doing—I fetched Young—I went with him to the back of No. 19, and found that Atkinson had arrested Bryan—Kelly was coming round the comer, and I informed the constable who Kelly was, and he took him in charge.
Cross-examined by Bryan. I did not see any light at the door—it is about a six-roomed house, such as would be used by a working man.
By MR. WILMOT. It is occupied by Mr. Hoy.
Bryan, in his defence, said that he was merely striking a light at the door, and that, if he wanted to commit a burglary, he should not have gone to a houses of that class, that the tools found on him were not housebreaking implements, but such as any working man might carry. Kelly, in his defence, said he had been working in good houses, where he could have committed robberies if he had been so disposed.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 2nd, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. POLAND for the Prosecution offered no evidence on the Inquisition The Jury had ignored the bill.
ROBERT WILLIAM GOODING . I live at 127, High Street, Putney, and am a clerk in the South Western Railway Company—on Tuesday night, 25th January, about 11.30 I was going along the Strand with my wife, to the Waterloo Station, from the direction of Temple Bar—at the corner of Arundel Street I saw a hansom cab coming towards me from the west—it was just on the City side of the Opera Comique Theatre, by a builder's hoarding—it was coming at a reckless canter close to the kerb—the cab was swinging a great deal—it nearly ran into a lamp-post on the opposite aide to me—that was oil his proper side, his near side—it then came more out into the middle of the road—I watched it till it got opposite me, and directly opposite to where I stood the shaft of the cab hit a gentle-man forwards, away from a lady he was with—the wheel came along, knocked the lady down, rind the cab went over her, and afterwards over the gentleman—I am not certain whether the Wheel went over him, but the cab did—they were about two and a half or three yards front the kerb—the cab continued to go on in the same style, and about thirty yards after it had passed me the cabman's hat fell off into the road—I continued to watch the cab till I lost sight of it by the church, in the traffic—the cabman was standing up on the board it the back of the cab—the reins were as they would be if a man was loosely driving, or urging—the reins were slaek—I did not see him do anything to pull up or try to stop the horse—I do not believe he altered the pace from the time I first saw him to the time I lost sight of him—I then crossed the road—the gentleman had been picked up by some persons—I picked up the lady and held her in my arms—she said her leg was hurt—a policeman took her away in a hansom—I gave information to the police two days afterwards—I do not recognise the prisoner—on Saturday, the 19th February, I went to a cab rank in Tottenham Court Road with Inspector O'Callaghan, and there recognised the horse that I had seen in the cab on the night in question—it was a very extroardinary looking horse—it had been clipped—there were three persons inside the cab on the night in question.
Cross-examined. I did not give information to the police on the same night, my wife was with me and I had to catch a train—I had not seen any published bills when I gave the information on the 27th—I left my card at Bow Street on the 27th, and I wrote to the Criminal Investigation department at Scotland Yard, having seen a paragraph in the Daily Telegraph that it would be taken as at favour if certain persons would communicate with the police—I had no reply to that, and on about the 15th or 16th of this month I spoke to the police at Putney and I believe
they telegraphed, and Inspector O'Callaghan came down to see me—I do not think I mentioned on the first examination before the Magistrate anything in reference to the slack reins—I was not asked—you asked me on the second examination whether I noticed anything particular with the harness, and I said yes, I noticed the reins were slack, and they should have been tight—I knew nothing about the reward of 20l. being offered on conviction—I do not expect any reward—I expect to be out of pocket—I first saw the cab at about 80 yards' distance—it was coming along at the same speed then as when it knocked down these people—there was nothing to intercept my view—it was particularly clear—there was a block at Temple Bar—it was a very light night—there were a great many lamps and the shops were open—I lost sight of the cab at the corner of St. Clement's Church—he was still standing up with the reins in his hand—he was not whipping the horse or pulling it up—I did not notice whether the breeching was undone.
SIDNEY TAYLOR (Policeman E 122). About half-past eleven on the night of 25th January I was on duty at the east end of St. Clement's Church—I heard a noise, and then saw a hansom cab being driven towards me, going towards the City—the prisoner was driving—it was coming at a great pace; galloping; coming as fast as possible—the horse fell almost directly opposite Essex Street, close to the flags; the near side; the proper side—the prisoner had no hat on—he was sitting down—he appeared to me to be doing all he could to pull up—there were three young midshipmen about 16 or 17 years of age in the cab—they jumped out and ran towards the City—they did not speak to me, or give me any information—I went up as the prisoner was about getting off the cab—a gentleman came up and said "This cabman has knocked a gentleman down in the Strand"—I asked him whether he had witnessed it—he said "Yes"—I asked him for his name and address—he said "It has nothing to do with me"—he did not give it—I said to the prisoner "You have knocked down a gentleman in the Strand"—he said "No, I have not knocked down any one, there you are"—I asked him where his hat was—he said "It blew off a little way down the Strand"—I asked why he was driving so fast—he said "It is a high-spirited horse, and the breeching got under the feet and threw it down"—the horse was got up while I was there—I noticed that the breeching was broken—I thought it was broken by the horse falling down; it could not have got under the horse's feet and thrown it down—I took the number of the cab, 6,774, and the prisoner's badge was 11,381—when the horse got up the prisoner took it to the cabman's shelter—he was perfectly sober, but excited.
Cross-examined. I heard the shouting, and in consequence of that I went into the roadway—that enabled me to have a clear view towards the Strand—when I first saw the cab it was just opposite Milford Lane, between Essex Street and Arundel Street—the prisoner was doing all he could to pull up the horse—I had not noticed the harness till the horse fell—I could not say how long he stopped at the cabman's shelter; I saw him there for some few minutes—it was rather a dark night.
JOSEPH KAY . I am a cab proprietor, of 6, Albany Mews—the prisoner was driving for me on 26th January—he went out in the middle of the day, and came back about half-past one in the morning—on the 19th February I took the same horse and cab to the stand in Tottenham
Court Road—the prisoner did not bring the cab home with him on the morning of the 26th—he said the hone had run away; it got the best of him, or something to that effect—it was one of the quietest, most docile horses that any one could sit behind, with quiet usage; if you knock him about he will get restive, and perhaps get the best of you—he is quiet over a railway, and not timid of the noise of anything like that—the prisoner only drove for me on that one day—I knew nothing of him before.
Cross-examined. I have described the horse as "light-hearted"—he is a good-bred horse, a nervous horse—the prisoner said he had left the cab over Waterloo Bridge, at the first lamp-post on the right—I asked if he had run over anything or hurt anybody—he said "No," there was nothing broken, only the two shafts—he said the horse had got the best of him; that he went to the cabman's shelter to get some string, and he supposed the string must have broken, and that made him kick again, and, to prevent further accident, he ran against the lamp-post, and two police-men came up—I have had the horse seven or eight months—I don't think he would be likely to be upset by three noisy young fellows in the cab, unless they hit him, or touched him with a stick; then he would go away, and you would have to pull him in hard to stop him.
PHILIP SHEIYES (Detective Sergeant E). On the 19th February a horse and cab belonging to Mr. Kay was plated on the cabstand in Tottenham Court Road, by my direction, with about 10 others, and Mr. Gooding went there to see if he could pick out the horse, which he did—on Sunday morning, the 20th, I saw the prisoner in Castle Street, Holborn—I told him I was a police sergeant, and that I wanted to speak to him about the accident in the Strand on the 25th January last—he said "Yes, sir"—I said "Where did you take up your fare?"—he said "Do you mean the three young gentlemen?"—I said "Yes"—he said "Somewhere near Norfolk Street; I don't know the exact spot; I drove them towards the City, and they went away when the horse fell down"—I asked where—about he lost his hat—he said about halfway between where he took up his fare and the shelter—I asked him why he did not go back for it—he said it was a dark night, and there was a lot of traffic about, and he thought he should not find it if he did—I told him I should take him into custody for causing the death of Mr. Lunn, and there was also a lady injured at the same time—he said he had enough to do to look after his horse and cab; he did not see any lady and gentleman—it was a dark night, and a lot of traffic about—the charge was read over to him at the station, and he replied "Wantonly driving! I could not stop the horse when he broke away as he did."
WILLIAM JOHN PENNY . I am house surgeon at King's College Hospital—on Tuesday night, 25th January, the deceased was brought there by a constable shortly before 12; he was quite dead; he had been bleeding from the ears, nose, and mouth—there was a small semicircular bruise on the right cheek and a bruise on the left ear; the skull was fractured—I knew him before, as Mr. Lunn; his initials were E. C., I don't know his Christian name—he was about 24 years of age and had just recently qualified as a surgeon—the injuries he had received were the cause of his death.
saw some people running—I ran up and saw a crowd at the top of Arundel Street—I found a gentleman there injured, and also a lady—I took her to the hospital and seat the gentleman there in a cab—I afterwards saw him there dead—Mr. Penny the surgeon saw him.
Cross-examined.—I was about half-way down Norfolk Street when I heard the noise, not near enough to lee the horse and cab.
GUILTY. Recommended to Mercy. — One Month's Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday. March 2nd, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BESLEY the Prosecuted offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
The prisoner was indicted at the last Session under the 3rd sub-section of the 13th Section of the Debtors Act for removing property "with intent to defraud his creditors;" the indictment only alleged an intent to defraud one individual. MR. HORACE AVORY, for the prisoner, contended that this allegation was not warranted by the words of the section—that, therefore, it was no offence within that section, and he applied that the indicment might be quashed. After hearing MR. PURCELL for the Prosecution, in the absence of Mr. Besley, the RECORDER held the objection to be good, and the indictment was accordingly quashed. Upon a subsequent day, applications being made by MR. BESLEY, leave was given to prefer a new bill in the same form, in order that the matter might be more fully argued. The new bill was, however, ignored by the Grand Jury.
MR. KISCH Prosecuted; MR. WARNER SLEIGH Defended.
ABRAHAM SIMMONDS . I am a coach builder, of 79, Pentonville Road. Islington—In the early part of 1880 I had financial transactions with the defendant—on 1st May, 1880, I lent him 9l. 14s. 6d., and on 29th May a further sum of 6l. 4s. 6d., and received from him two I O U's—I saw him sign them in the presence of Mr. Kennedy, and Henry Roberts a shopman, who is how dead—I drew the I O U's, and the prisoner wrote the dates and the signatures in each case—I have not received either amount—on 24th June I lent him a further sum on a bill of exchange; on the 28th. October neither amount had been paid—between May and issuing the writ I sold him goods for 1l. 8s.—in October I instructed my solicitor to sue for 38l. 7s., and instructed him to make an application for judgment, and attended before the Master—the defendant was present, and was examined by my solicitor—he was duly sworn—he swore he never signed the I O U's, and knew nothing about them; he was asked a good many times, and still said he knew nothing about them—they were given to him to look at—he obtained leave to defend on those amounts—I met him one evening after I had taken proceedings, and in the presence of Mr. Kennedy, he said "Yes have taken proceedings; I will put you to all the expense I can."
Cross-examined. I am a coach builder; I do no other trade—I am not a money-lender—I may hate lent money the last two years; a trifle, 5l. or 6l., or 10l., probably—I charged a shilling in the pound for
as long as Stediford wanted money—he only had One bill of exchange—I took a bill from him for 20l. 14s. 6d.—that may have been for 10l. I lent him; that was so, as a fact—I cannot recollect the dates of the I O U's—I could not say when I first lent him money about two years, or two years and a half ago—I could not say what the first amount was—I did not charge 260 pet cent.—when I took the bill for 20l. 14s. 6d. I did not toll him I had destroyed all his small 10 U's—that is my statement of claim (produced), and those are the amounts that I lent him, and the amounts for goods supplied—I am sure he did not give me a bill to cover four of these items; the bill he gave me had nothing to do with these I O U's.
ABRAHAM ABRAHAMS . I am a solicitor, of 46, Bedford Row—I was solicitor in the action against Stediford—I attended before the Master upon the examination of the defendant in an application, under Order 14, for judgment—I saw the bath administered to him—I examined him—he said he never signed the I O U's, and never received any money or consideration for them (I do not remember the exact words), and that he knew nothing whatever of them—the result of the trial was, judgment for the amounts—I do not recollect my client returning the I O U's to the defendant; I never heard of it—to the best of my belief the I O U's were signed by the prisoner, and drawn up by Mr. Simmonds—the dates are 3rd, 11th, and 29th May, 1880—the bill for 20l. 14s. Was dated 24th June, 1880, according to my draft Statement of claim—I put the I O U's into his hand before Master. Dodson, and Said "Will you read it?"—he looked, and read it—I said "Is that your signature?"—he said "No"—he did not say it was forged, not that the prosecutor had told him he had destroyed the I O U's for a bill of exchange—I put the question "Do you mean to say it is a foregery?"—he siad "It must be so"—the Master warned him—he said he knew what he was about.
JOHN KENNEDY . I lived at 21, Gravel Street, Holborn—my present address is at No. 2, Bow Street—I was present on 1st May, in Mr. Simmond's shop—Stediford was there—I saw him sign an I O U on each occasion—I saw money pass between the parties—on the 8th October I was with Simmonds in the Cloudesley Road, Islington, when the prisoner said to Simmonds, that on account of his having sued him, he would put him to all the moon venience he could in getting his money.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. FILLAN Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
EDWARD HOGAN . I reside at 32, New North Road—I have evening classes there, and a middle-class school in Southgate Road—the prisoner came into my employment in March, 1879—he had no testimonials—he was to receive 20l. a year, and his food and lodging—I explained to him I did not want a man, and he said he would be glad of the place, although it was a boy's place—a disagreement took place between us—he threatened me—I turned him out—I took him to the door—he made a fuss, and I called a constable to complete the expulsion—I afterwards received certain anonymous communications—I destroyed most of them—this letter was put under the door late on Saturday night—I also received these postcards (produced), according to their dates. (The letter called the
prosecutor a mean our, and stated "For a day or two I can do nothing, but rest assured I will make you pay the uttermost farthing." The postcards stated the house was dirty; there was small-pox and fever, and a drunken home.) I have suffered great injury from these libels, and some of my pupils have received them—the first scholar left on account of these communications on the 4th January—I have taught writing 30 years—the letter is the prisoner's writing—the postcards are his writing disguised—all the imputations in the postcards are quite false.
Cross-examined. I am 40 years old—I began giving lessons at 10 years of age—I cannot tell you how many postcards I received; between 20 and 30—I did not hear my solicitor ask for a remand in order that the letters might be submitted to Mr. Chabot—Mr. Chabot is not a witness—the peculiarities in the prisoner's writing are that he calls the school the Southgate Road School, instead of the Southgate Road Middle-Class School—there is a remarkable peculiarity about the "y;" the strokes are not parallel—I have 80 reasons, altogether—I know Mr. Dawson—I did not know my wife went to see him—I heard her say at the police-court that she met him—he is a builder in Highbury—there was no matter of account between me and the prisoner when he left—I have not had a personal interview with him.
Re-examined. My wife had a business reason for going to see Mr. Dawson—we supposed he was the Mr. Dawson my wife knew, and she called upon him for pupils—this is the receipt for the prisoner's salary up to the 8th May, 1880—he was turned out on the 15th June—I was asked at the police-court whether I owed him 26l., and other sums—I had no postcards before 15th June.
MARY ELIZABETH HOGAN . I am the wife of the last witness—I remember the prisoner's engagement by my husband as tutor—a dispute arose on 15th June last year—I was not present, but the prisoner asked me to plead for him so that Mr. Hogan should give him another trial—a few days afterwards we received numerous postcards; a letter, written by the prisoner, was also put under the door—I am almost sure it was open—I immediately formed an opinion that the postcards were in the prisoner's writing; I feel perfectly sure of it—I have seen him write after his. committal—no postcards were sent after his committal—I had an interview with one of his witnesses, and, immediately after, I received two postcards—we did not owe him any money when he went.
Cross-examined. Some were not the defendant's handwriting, but the majority were—we did not summons him at first, because he had not sent them to the pupils—we did not try to do him any injury—I did not say to Mr. Dawson "You have a nice man in the neighbourhood"—I said at the police-court "I did not mean it"—I did not mean it—I meant the reverse—I went to Mr. Robinson to know if the prisoner had paid him, as I considered he had been swindled, but I did not tell Mr. Robinson so—Mr. Robinson called upon us. and asked for his address, and I promised I would call, or send it, and I did—I said at the police-court "I am sure I did not say anything good of the defendant; I was not five minutes with him"—I could not say anything good of him—I agree with my husband in every particular, but I would not say how many reasons I have for saying the cards are the prisoner's writing—my first reason is, the peculiarity about his "y's"; the second he makes his "s" in a peculiar way, like a printed one—that was impressed upon me
by having heard my husband rebuke him for doing it, and saying it was not businesslike—then he used the Greek "e;" he also called our school the Southgate Road School—there are not a number of schools in Southgate Road; there are two or three ladies' seminaries—I have always heard our school called the Southgate Road Middle-Class School—I believe he has opened a school himself—I cannot tell you what distance it is from ours, but it is far enough not to interfere with us—I never wrote a letter to the prisoner; certainly not an anonymous letter—this letter was not put to me at the police-court—I can give you an explanation of it—this is in answer to one of Ketchin's letters asking me to ask Mr. Hogan to give him another trial, and not dismiss him—I said "Do not go for an hour, and I will do the best I can with Mr. Hogan" and I wrote that letter. (Stating: "I cannot help you with Mr. Hogan. You had better send a letter apologising; perhaps that will.") The letter commencing "Dear K." is not my writing, I swear.
Re-examined. There is a peculiarity in the way he spells "neu," for "new"—Mr. Martin is the assistant master—he must have known he was there—a postcard was written to Martin, and I did not know that any one else knew him—Mr. Robinson thanked me for giving the prisoner's address, and told me he had put the matter in the hands of his collector, who would enforce payment; that ho had already applied to his address in Cross Street, and had been told that he did not live there, he had one room; that is why I said he was a very nice man—I did not go to Mr. Dawson to hurt the prisoner.
CHARLES WILLIAMS . I am a writing master of over 47 years—I have not been examined in Courts of Justice, but have been engaged as an expert on cases which have not come to the Court—I have made it my business to compare handwriting with a view to identity—the cards marked A, B, C, and D, have been put into my hands, and I have compared them with some of the prisoner's admitted letters—they are the same writing, but very much disguised—a fifth card is the same writing, but the sixth is a female's writing—in my opinion the five cards are in the same writing as the letter signed "John G. Ketchin."
Cross-examined. I examined the cards very carefully a day before I was called at Worship Street—I said at the police-court that I had examined them in a hurried manner, because two days would not be more than sufficient—I heard that Mr. Chabot examined the postcards—I very seldom see the Greek "e" in letters—the letter "s" is also a reason for saying the writing is the same; it slopes like an italic "s," and is very uncommon, except by reporters, or persons who have to write rapidly; then the "y" is like his "y's" having a peculiar angle, the pothook not being parallel with the loop, but at an angle of 45 degrees, like the figure "7;" the capital "Rs" also bears a good resemblance—there is no idioscyncrasy or characteristic in the writing, but the letters named are written in an unusual form.
Re-examined. The Greek "e" used here is not used by uneducated persons—I was not aware Mr. Chabot advised the defendant.
HEADLEY FELTHAM . I reside at 67, Springfield Road, Stoke Newington—I know the prisoner—I remember seeing him the latter end of June, or in July last, in company with Mr. Minchin and some boys belonging to the defendant's school—I heard the defendant say that Mr. Hogan owed him money, and that he owed his baker money—he said much more than
I can remember—I left him standing with the boys, and they had met before I went up.
THOMAS TURQUAND CHOATE . I live at 59, New North Road, Holloway—I know the prisoner—I remember seeing him the end of June, or the begining of July—he came into my shop and said "I believe Mr. Hogan deals with you;" I said "Yes, he has had a running account for the last two years;" he said "It is his intention to petition the Bankruptcy Court" or something about liquidation, and if I wanted my money, the best thing I could do was to press for it immediately—he said something about a grievance between him and Hogan, and about Hogan's wife being a sort of housekeeper or servant—he also said Hogan would be sorry for what he had done, and he would not benefit by the steps he had taken—he seemed excited and angry—I did press for my money, and made inquiries in the neighbourhood.
Cross-examined. I found Hogan was not indebted where the prisoner told we he was.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFF . I live at 7, Theobald's Road, Red ford Row—I have been an expert in handwriting for the last 35 years—I have compared these postcards with the prisoner's admitted writing, and have arrived at a decided conclusion that they are not the same—I have seen Hogan's writing—there are more similarites to his writing in the postcards than to the prisoner's.
Cross-examined. I did not know that a great part of the cross-examintion at the police-court was directed to show that Hogan wrote the post-cards himself—I am frequently called upon to give evidence—I have been constantly engaged at Assizes—I do not wonder that Juries do not always believe me, because they have to decide in five minutes what has taken me hours—the letters pointed out are not similar—one is a mercantile "s." the other is anything—the "R" is formed as any one would form it—I think the, "y" is totally different from that on the postcard—thousands of people use the Greek "s."
WILLIAM SMART . I am a writing master, of 79 B, Quadrant, Regent Street—I made an examination of the defendant's writing, and of these postcards, at the police court—the postcards are, not the defendant's writing—I have had forty years' experience.
Cross-examined. I heard Mr. Netherelift's evidence—I should imagine the cards were written by an educated man who had purposely disguised his writing—the letters and the cards are not at all alike.
Re-examined. My opinion is unshaken.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROUMIEU Prosecuted.
HUGH COCHRANE . I am a tobacconist of 21, Craven Terrace, Paddington—on the 6th of February about 11.30 p.m. I was going to bed—I heard a noise on the stairs—I looked up to the first landing—I saw a man resembling the prisoner go out at the window on to the roof of an ante-room, on his belly, with his back towards me—he closed the window after him, and then I saw the shape of his face and hat—it was moonlight—he went to the left towards a party wall—I ran round to catch him, and saw him on the top of the wall, and distinctly recognised him—I said "Stop
or I will shoot you"—he immediately dropped down into Mr. Gill's premises—I went for the police, and came back—I found Mr. Gill holding him—Mr. Gill said "What made you do this?"—he said "Poverty."
EDWARD GILL . I am the landlord of the Mitre public-house, Craven Terrace—I heard the window of my bagatelle room opened—I went out and found the prisoner coming up the steps—he said "Poverty made me do it."
ROBERT KELLY (Policeman X 434). I found Mr. Gill holding the prisoner—Mr. Cookrane gave him in charge—the prisoner said "I went into the yard for a purpose, but finding the doors all shut. I opened the window and went out through it"—I found this chisel, this candle, and this match-box on him.
THOMAS MILES (Police Inspector X). I examined the premises about one o'clock on the 7th—there were distinct foot marks on the roof of the ante-room, and along the party wall, between Lancaster Mews and Craven Terrace—the dust had been swept from the window.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not at Mr. Cochrane's. I never said poverty made me do it. Kelly's amount is perfectly right. The chisel I use at my trade, and the candle I bought to light me to bed. I found myself locked in after I had gone to the back, and I got out of the window. I had no felonious intention, as I shoved the window up as hard as I could. I told Mr. Gill I went to the back and was locked in.
EDWARD GILL (Recalled). He told me those things, but not till he was charged—the house had been closed about hall an hour—the yard was searched about 11. 5 p.m.—he could get into all the houses on the terrace from the wall and from a shed.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, March 2nd, 1881.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
300. MARGARET McKENZIE (25) to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 6l., with intent to defraud, and to two other indictments for larceny and false pretences.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted.
JOSEPH WILLIAM HISCOX . I keep the Rose and Crown, Little Britain—I took the prisoner into my employ about the first week in January last—his wages were 11s. per week and board, and what the gentlemen chose to give him who dined there—he used to leave about half-past 10 o'clock at night—I have been shown the property which Detective Lawley found at his lodgings—I have brought one piece of the china service, which I have had about 14 years—it is a part of that which is in the possession of Lawley—I went with him and saw all the articles found—I identify this saltcellar; they were a present nearly 26 years age—this china plate I have had for the last 25 years—they are things we don't use—some are broken, and they are kept in the cupboard, which is not locked—the
total value of the property found at the prisoner's lodgings I should think would be 3l. or 4l., including a lot of cigars and tobacco—I have no doubt as to the property—the billiard ball is not mine—the gold chain and watch have not been found.
FREDERICK LAWLEY (City Detective). I took the prisoner into custody and went to search his lodgings at 142, Stamford Street, Blackfriars, on the 12th February last, with Mr. Hiscox—I found two plated saltcellars, one glass ditto, two old china plates, two bread-and-butter plates, two small ditto, and two half ounces of tobacco; five cigars and two or three cigarettes, two liquor glasses, three champagne glasses, and two ale glasses; I also found a billiard ball and two dinner plates, but I have not been able to find the owner of those—the others are what Mr. Hiscox has identified—the prisoner said "I was hard up; I got drummed out of the Royal Artillery last May, and I wrote this character myself"—I found 2s. 10d. on him and a silver watch—the room he occupied was used as a bedroom—the silver watch is not a part of the stolen property.
Prisoner's Defence. I am guilty of writing the character, but I am not guilty of stealing the things. Some of the things were in my possession before I went into Mr. Hiscox's service.
GUILTY** of receiving. — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and LEVY Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
WILLIAM BURTON . I live at 33, Beaumont Street, and am a job master—the prisoner was for some time in my employ as foreman of my stables in Oxford Street—his duty would be to take money from customers and pay it over either to me, my wife, or clerk, directly he received it—in November last I had a horse of Mr. Ward's standing at livery, which I had had some few weeks—about January last Mr. Ward applied for the horse to be given up to him, which I declined to do, as his account was not paid—the bill was made out and sent to him, and when he got the bill he came to my place and said the money was paid, and produced this cheque for 2l. 12s.—that was the amount of the livery up to the 8th November, I believe—the cheque is payable to me, and is endorsed "W. Burton," which is not my handwriting—I believe it is the prisoner's—he had no authority from me to endorse cheques—he had to bring his book every week—he has never accounted to me for that 2l. 12s.
Cross-examined. He was in my service something like three years—I do not know how many children he has got—he would look after horses that I had for sale—I did not promise him remuneration for selling at an advanced price—I cannot say 1 remember a pair of horses sold to the Duke of Somerset for 230l.; I cannot say without my books; it may be so, and that I told Gard I should be satisfied with 200l.—Gard sold to Mr. Stud, of Exeter, a roan gelding for 150 guineas on my account; I did not tell him I should be perfectly satisfied if I got 100 guineas for it—I do not know that I should have been satisfied with 130l., it may be so; I did not promise him anything for that—my wife and clerk, not Gard, had charge of the books at Oxford Street; there were two or three books; I very seldom write in them myself—there is no cash-book for him to keep—he had to pay over his money every day, if he took any—I
have two cash-books, and I keep two banking accounts—Gard had only a book for the men's wages, which he put down on a Saturday night—he had no right to pay into the banker's—my clerk or wife did that—I have not heard of my wife forgetting that she had given the prisoner 4l. as a gratuity, and offering it to him again, and his returning it—my wife is not in good health—my clerk is not here—I did not get a cheque from the prisoner for the 2l. 12s. and another sum amounting to 7l. 12s.; the money was sent to my house, and I returned it—I said to the Magistrate that I would withdraw the charge of 5l.—every Saturday night, when the prisoner made out the books, there was 5l. left in his hands to pay little sums he might want in the week—I do not remember the Magistrate saying that with regard to the 5l. petty cash it could not be treated as a criminal matter; I said to the Magistrate, if he would permit it, I would withdraw from the prosecution as to the 6l. only—to the best of my belief the Magistrate did not dismiss the case of the 5l.; I did not hear him say it was only a debt—no one attended for me at the police-court—the Magistrate did not say if I withdrew from the prosecution he would send the papers to the Public Prosecutor; the Public Prosecutor was mentioned—I only mentioned to the Magistrate about withdrawing as to the 5l. as the man had a wife and family.
Re-examined. The prisoner was paid 35s. per week and his rooms—there is no pretence for saying that I owed him any money for commission or anything else.
By the JURY. He took his money every Saturday night—he received certain money from time to time—he did not pay anything out of that; he had to account for that separately.
SAMUEL WARD . I reside at 63, George Street, Portman Square—in October last I had a horse standing at livery at Mr. Burton's—I handed the prisoner a cheque for 2l. 12s., for which he gave me this receipt (produced)—I subsequently sent for my horse; I forget the date—I was applied to for payment a second time, together with another amount incurred since for another horse—I showed the cheque and receipt to Mr. Burton; I think it was in December—the cheque was drawn in Mr. Barton's office by me on 8th November—I had known the prisoner as Mr. Burton's foreman—I do not know that he has been kicked by a horse, and laid up—I believe we were alone when I gave him the cheque.
Cross-examined. I was present before the Magistrate, but did not pay any particular attention to what took place—I believe the prosecutor said he would withdraw the charge as far as the 5l. went—the Magistrate said if he withdrew he should put it in the hands of the Public Prosecutor.
WILLIAM KING . I am barman at Mr. Hartridge's, licensed victualler, near the prosecutor's yard—Mr. Hartridge is confined to his house—I saw the prisoner bring the cheque for 2l. 12s. to him, and saw Mr. Hartridge hand him the money for it.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear to the date; it was in November, in the middle of the week, Wednesday or Thursday.
GEORGE EDWARDS (Detective D) I took the prisoner into custody on the 10th February—I said, "I shall take you into custody on a charge of stealing and forging a cheque received by you for and on account of Mr. Burton on the 8th November; he did not seem to understand the charge; he did not say anything—I took the cheque and receipt from my pocket, and showed them to him—he said, "I know when that was
done; I was short of money at the time, and could not pay it in"—I took him to the station, where he was charged with forging the endorsement of the cheque, and also stealing 5l. petty cash given to him by Mrs. Burton—before the Magistrate the prosecutor asked to be allowed to withdraw the charge of the 5l. and the Magistrate said, "No, certainly not; if you do I shall put it in the hands of the Public Prosecutor."
Cross-examined. The Magistrate did make some remark about the 5l. being merely a civil debt; that was after the evidence was given; that was when the other case was being gone into.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. ROBERTSON Prosecuted.
GEORGE OSBORNE . I live at 4, Parsenage Walk, Newington, and am a hackney carriage driver—about 1.30 a.m. on 3rd February last I was on the rank at Whitechapel, when I saw the prisoner trying to unlock the iron gates of Mr. Lyon's shop, a carcase butcher—I saw a policeman come up and speak to him, and the prisoner turned away and ran—my face was towards the City, and the prisoner and the policeman went towards Whitechapel—shortly after I heard a cry of "Step thief" and rapid running.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not interfere when I saw you at the gates, because I thought you were entitled to go into the shop—I saw you show the police-constable a market ticket.
By the JURY. There were about half a dozen people near the spot at the time—the gates were under the pent-house, which sticks out; they lie right back from the pavement, perhaps about 16 feet—there was nothing to cause any suspicion—the prisoner appeared to be sober—I thought that he was letting himself in.
FRANK BLUNT (City Policeman 818). I was in Aldgate at the time in question, when I saw the prisoner; he was tampering with the gate leading into Mr. Lyon's place—I passed down the foot pavement about eight or nine feet from him—as soon as he saw me he left the gate and said, "Good morning, it is a fine morning"—I thought it was a curious remark to make, as it was raining hard at the time—I said "Yes"—I went down as. far as Manchester Street and came back again, and saw the prisoner at the gate again; then he turned round and left the gate—I was in uniform—I went as far as the Minories, and passed him again, the third time, and he was at the gate again—I went down as far as Harrow Alley, and crossed the street and stood in a sort of triangular position and watched him; I was on the opposite side; it might have been 14 or 15 yards off—I saw him working his arms, and them I heard the chain rattle—I crossed back over the street, and walked up and turned on my light, and I then saw the padlock was forced open, but hanging in the links of the chain—the prisoner said, "Oh, sir, there is a man just come out from here with a slop on; I will show you where he is gone"—I said, "You belong to the cab rank, don't you?"—he said "Yes"—I went to catch hold of him but missed my hold, and he dodged down and ran away, and ran through Harrow Alley, which is about 20 yards from the gate on the same side of the road, out of Manchester Street—I called out "Stop thief," and he was apprehended by a police-officer, and I am up at the same time—we took him back to the gates,
and I turned my light on and asked him if he knew anything about that, and showed him the lock—he made no answer—the lock was all right previously, because I had tried it before several times—that is the only entrance to the place—the chain goes round, and the padlock is inside the shop, but by twisting the chain you can bring the padlock outside—when I tried the lock about ten minutes before I saw the prisoner at the gate; the padlock was inside the gateway; there was no other security to the gate.
Cross-examined. I had been watching you for about half an hour previously.
OLIVER ROWEGTTOM (Police Sergeant 33). I examined the gate, and found the padlock hanging to the chain (produced); it was outside the iron gate—I found this hook immediataly outside the gates; it is a hook used by butchers to hang on iron bars—it does not belong to the premises—it was lying on the ground about a foot off—I searched the prisoner, and I round this badge on him (produced)—it is a metropolitan porter's badge, which was stolen from, the Metropolitan Meat Market with two coats, previously—I roused Mr. Huekle, the foreman on the premises—I saw through the iron bars of the gate a quantity of fat hanging up—the bars were four or five inches apart—these are some out houses at the back, I believe—the office is immediately behind the gates on the right of the shop—there is an iron safe there which was all right—you could not see it from outside.
Cross-examined. The hook has not been on the sliding red lately, on this part would have been quite bright—it is clogged with dirt.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I wish to have the case settled here. I call no witnesses."
GUILTY .**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GREENFEILD Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HUTCHINS (Policeman CR 22). While on duty in Oxenden Street, at 12 p.m. on the 19th February, I heard a noise in the shop of No. 26—I tried the door, and found it loose at the top—these was something standing against the bottom inside; I pushes it sharply, and the door opened—I went in and found this jemmy and some umbrellas (produced)—I then searched the place, and when I got to the top front room I found the prisoner—I asked him what he was doing, and he made no answer—I brought him downstairs and left him in charge of another constable, and examined the premises again, and found nobody else—I found on him a box key and some ordinary matches—I took him to the station, and sent a telegram to the prosecutor—the prisoner was charged, but made no answer—he told the inspector he should not give his address—there were marks en the door corresponding with the jemmy.
THEODORE DELAROE . I have a shop at 26, Oxenden Street, and am a hat manufacturer and sell umbrellas—I left the place safe at about 8.30 p.m. on the 19th February—at about 2.30 I received a telegram from Vine Street Police-station—I went to the shop with the inspector, and saw these umbrellas on the floor, ready to tie up in this cloth—they had been removed from their proper place; about 14l. or 15l. worth—I identify them—these looks were on the front door.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted of felony.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. KELLY Prosecuted.
CHARLES VARNEY . On the night of the 12th February I was in Cranbourne Street, with two men named Scott and Coombs, coming from the Alhambra, when about a dozen or fourteen fellows came behind us, and the prisoner and another put their knees behind my back and pulled me down—Scott picked me up, and the prisoner went into the road to challenge him to fight—when on the ground I saw the prisoner draw his hand from my trousers' pocket, and I missed 8s. 6d.
ERNEST CHARLES COOMBS . I was with Varney and Scott at the time in question on our way from the Alhambra—on passing through Cranbourne Street Varney was between us—when between Leicester Square and St. Martin's Lane the prisoner and another came behind and caught hold of him and put their knees to his back and threw him to the ground—there were about a dozen with him—we helped to left him up, and the prisoner then challenged me to fight—there were about five more round, one hitting me one way and one the other, and I found it was no good my going back to my friend—the prisoner went back again to where my friend was lying, and I went for a constable—the constable came round the corner, and I saw the prisoner run out from the crowd—we gave chase to him, and the constable caught him.
By the JURY. I was perfectly sober—Varney was a little the worse for drink, but he knew what he was doing.
ARTHUR SCOTT . I was with Varney and Coombs when in Cranbourne Street I saw a party of at least a dozen coming past us—the prisoner and another man caught hold of Varney by the back, and threw him to the ground, and after we pulled him up on his legs again the prisoner ran out into the road and offered to fight Coombs—after he got into the road he was joined by at leant half a dozen more—he came back to where Varney was lying, and I saw him rifling his pockets—there was another man on the top of Varney as the prisoner came back—I cannot say whether the prisoner was the man who took his money, but I saw his hand go into his pocket—Coombs and I then called a police constable—Varney was a little the worse for liquor.
JAMES SHEERARD (Policeman C 298). Coombs came up to me and called me, and I went with him to Cranbourne Street—as soon as I got to the crowd I saw the prisoner run out of the crowd—I immediately gave chase to him—I did not know what the nature of the case was at the time—I ran him down Cranbourne Street and Castle Street, and another constable ran up and stopped him and fell over him—I took him into custody, and asked him what he had been doing—he said he had been doing nothing—I said "You have been doing something to a man in Cranbourne Street, robbing him or something"—he said he had not—I brought him back to the prosecutor, and he said he had stolen 8s. 6d. from him—I then took him to the station and charged him—I searched him, and found on him 7s. in silver and 3d. in bronze and a very curious knife (produced)—Varney identified the prisoner at once—Coombs and Scott said at the police-station that night that the prisoner was the man who first came up to him and pulled him on his back.
Prisoner's Defence. I was going down Cranbourne Street and saw a crowd of people, and I looked in the crowd, and heard they were robbing somebody. When the policeman came up, the crowd ran, and I ran to see what it was. The constable caught hold of me, and said "You have been robbing somebody, come back, and he took me to the station and took the money out of my pocket, and asked the prosecutor what I had been doing, and he told him.
GUILTY of robbery. — Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
ROBEBT SLATEUM . I live at 18, High Street, Rhyl, Flintshire, and am a fancy dealer—I produce a certificate of marriage between George South and Georgians Shortgate on 24th November, 1878, at Liverpool.
MARY ANN SHORTHOUSE . I live at 186, Bromsgrove Street, Birmingham, and am a shopkeeper—I have a brother named Henry Shorthouse; I saw him on Monday morning last; he lives close to me—I was present at St. Warburg's Church, Derby, when he was married to the prisoner, then Georgians Hassell—they lived together about two years and nine months—the last time I saw the prisoner before I saw her at the police-court was at my house in Birmingham, about four years ago—my brother was living in Birmingham at that time.
ELIZABETH PERRY . I was living in Birmingham in 1876, and knew Henry Shorthouse, who was living there then, and lives there now, in Bromsgrove Street—I saw the prisoner at Birmingham in the beginning of December, 1876—the last witness lives at the top of the yard; I do not know the number—in December, 1876, just as I came out at the top of the yard to go an errand, the prisoner was getting out of a trap to go into Miss Shorthouse's house; she embraced Miss Shorthouse—I saw Henry Shorthouse, with a little boy, coming up the street; I said something to him—the prisoner then came out and went to shake hands with the child, when Henry snatched the child away from her, and he never spoke to her—he lives next door to me, a few houses from Miss Shorthouse.
Cross-examined. I was never at Marlborough Street—Mr. Turpin came to me on Sunday, and in consequence of some conversation with him I am here to-day—I have lived in Birmingham since I was seven years old—I have known Mr. Shorthouse near upon eight years—I was at his house on Monday morning—I see him almost every day—I have never seen the prisoner more than once there—I do not keep a diary—I know the date in December by the marriage of my daughter—I don't know that the prisoner left Shorthouse because of his cruelty to her—I believe the was about 17 when she married him—I have heard that she has run away, and he has fetched her back.
Re-examined. My daughter was married four years last June—it was after her marriage that I saw the prisoner in Birmingham.
CAROLINE HELEN BUCHANAN . I live at 4, Hanway Street, and am the wife of David Buchanan—I was present on 24th November, 1878, at Liverpool, when the prisoner was married to George South, jeweller, of Bond Street—I was one of the witnesses.
in Great Marlborough Street—I told her she was charged with marrying George South, her husband, Henry Shorthouse, being then alive—I told her she would also be charged with marrying Henry Jones, her husband being alive at that time; she made no reply to either charge.
Cross-examined. This case was not originally taken up by the Public Prosecutor—I understood that the gentleman who first made the charge had a claim against the prisoner for money—there was an action commenced against her by him at the Bloomsbury County Court—there was a solicitor who appeared for the prosecution who was solicitor for Mr. Slateum.
NOT GUILTY . (See Page 460.)
OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 3rd, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.
JAMES HILL . I live at New Street Chambers, Bishopsgate—about 1.30 in the morning of the 8th instant I was in Commercial Street—I saw the prisoner there driving a four-wheeled cab towards White-chapel, and another cab, driven by Nathan, was coming in the opposite direction—the prisoner ran into Nathan's cab, knocked him off his cab, and turned the cab over on the top of him—the prisoner's cab was on the same side as Nathan's, that was his wrong side—he was going at the rate of 12 miles an hour—after Nathan's cab was knocked over four people got out of it, and with assistance got the cab up and Nathan was drawn from under it and taken to the hospital—the prisoner had been drinking.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that he was drunk; I might have said "very drunk"—he must have been, he could not walk straight to the station—they put me down as a cab loafer—I am a carman by trade, not a cabdriver—Nathan's cab was going about six miles an tour—the prisoner's cab was about two minutes walk from me when I first saw it; I can't tell the number of yards—I know Nathan's son—I did not see any cab following Nathan's.
By the COURT. There was no traffic in the road at the time; it was a fine night—there were lamps on both sides of the street; it is wide enough for five vehicles to pass.
WILLIAM FROST . I live at 34, Vardon Street, New Street, Commercial Road—I am a cabdriver—I was driving a cab on this night, following Nathan's cab, eight or ten yards behind him—we were both going west, and going between six and seven miles an hour—I heard the collision and saw Nathan's cab go over—the wheels of his cab were I should think between four and five feet from his near kerb just previous to its going over—a lady and gentleman in my cab got out there were four persons in Nathan's cab and two in mine; one party—I was much confused at the time; I saw the persons get out of Nathan's cab; I then steadied my horse and got down to give assistance, but it was not required—Nathan had been got out before I got down—the road is 33 feet wide between the kerbs—Nathan was on his right side—I did not notice his cab swerve at all from its right side.
the 8th I was in Commercial street—I saw these two cabs—the prisoner's cab was about the middle of the street, and the prisoner was lying on his back in the street—Nathan's cab was lying on its side on the other side of the street—I got assistance and lifted up Nathan's cab and found him underneath—I got him out and carried him to the Metropolitan Free Hospital, which was about 100 yards away—I returned in about fifteen minutes and saw the prisoner by his cab—he did not seem to be drunk, but he seemed to be unaware of what had happened—I took him to the station.
WILLIAM HAMMOND (Police Inspector H). I was in charge of the police-station when the prisoner was brought in, and in consequence of Hill's statement he was charged with reckless driving and causing serious injury to Nathan—he said "I know nothing about it, my head is all duzed"—my opinion was that he had been the worse for drink; he was not in a state that I could charge him with being drunk, but I was under the impression that he had been drinking; I told him so, and he requested the divisonal surgeon to be sent for to examined him as to his state? that was done, and the surgeon said that he had been drinking, but he would be capable of driving a cab them; he could not say that he had been the worse for drink—I saw the place where the accident happened a few hours afterwards, and I saw a pool of blood where the injured man had laid; it was 8 feet from the near kerb—I measured the roadway; it is 30 feet from kerb to kerb.
Cross-examined. I heard the prisoner say before the Coroner that he was about the centre of the road, and that the other cab was about the time, that he pulled his near rein, and expected the other man would do the same, but that the other man's horse swerved into him, and that caused the collision—the Coroner's Jury returned a verdict of accidental death.
MOSS COHEN . I live at 49, Tavistock Square—I was in the cab with my family, driven by the deceased—the windows were up—I did not see anything of the accident—I felt a collision, and felt she horse fall, and the cab turning over—we were on our proper side, and going about six or seven miles an hour—there was no luggage on the cab.
JEFEREYS McCARTHY . I am assistant to Mr. Phillips, the surgeon to the H division of Police—I saw the prisoner at the station on the 8th—I could not say that he was drunk; he appeared to have had something to drink, but seemed perfectly capable of driving a cab—I asked him if he had been drinking—he said "I have taken a little; I take a little to drink every day.
ABRAHAM COHEN . I am senior house surgeon at the Metropolitan Free Hostipital—I saw Nathan when he was received there on the 8th—he was in a state of insensibility, from which he did not recover, and he died in that state at 6 the same morning—on a post mortem examination I found five ribs fractured on the right side, extensive laceration or rapture of the liver, and a comminuted fracture of the left collar-bone, such a state of things as might have been caused by the accident described.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RIBTON Prosecuted; MR. A. B. KELLY Defended.
MADELINE BIKE . I am an unfortunate girl—I did live at 5, Rich Street, Limehouse; I am now living at No. 3—I have known the prisoner about three years—she lives in Nelson Court, about two minutes' walk from me—I have been away from London for a long time—on the 28th January, about 20 minutes to 10 at night, I came out of the Eastern Hall, in the West India Dock Road, and was between there and the Oporto—I can't speak positively to the time to a few minutes, but it was between 20 minutes and half-past 10, for I was at home by half-past—as I passed along I saw the prisoner standing under a lamp outside the Eastern Hotel—I did not speak to her—I am quite sure it was her—I felt some liquid thrown over me—I did not know what it was—it fell over my ulster and bonnet; none of it touched my face—I believed at the time it was water, or some slush—it was a snowy night—I walked home, and took off my things as usual—about 2 o'clock I went to brush them, as they were muddy, and then found they were marked all in yellow spots—I had had a quarrel with the prisoner before this—she had used violent language to me several times—she had told me she would strike me, and do one thing and another to me—I lived in her house, at one time—she keeps a house of ill fame—I took my ulster and bonnet to Mr. Hatfield's, a chemist, and asked him what it was.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that this occurred from a quarter-past 10 to half-past 10; I could not say positively—I first knew the prisoner three years ago—she threatened me then—of course we are not friendly—we do not speak—there was no one with me on this occasion—I was near the edge of the pavement, and she was standing underneath the lamp—I did not stop to look round—another woman was with her—I did not get up till late the next morning—it was about two, or half-past, when I brushed my clothes—there was some one with me that night—he went out—there was no other young woman living in the same room with me.
Re-examined. The last time the prisoner threatened me was about five weeks ago—I distinctly saw the prisoner's face when she threw this at me—I believe the woman who was with her was Lizzie Earle.
MARIE JORDAN . I live at 5, Rich Street, Limehouse—I am an unfortunate girl—I do not know the prisoner—I have known Madeline Birks for three years; we both came up from Liverpool together—on the Thursday night, from nine to half-past, I was in the West India Road, and saw the prisoner standing under the lamp with another young girl—she said "Where is Milly?" meaning Birks—I said "I don't know where she is at present, but I think she is at home"—Milly passed the Eastern public-house, and the prisoner said "I have a good mind to go after her now, to beat her"—I said "What do you want her for?"—she said "I have got some old aggrievance to deal with her; I don't forget her for three years ago; I have got an old quarrel to pick with her"—I said "Why don't you go and tell her that? don't tell me"—she said "Well, if I don't tell her that, I will do something else to her; I will leave her for an hospital case, and not fit for anybody to look at her, if I live for 20 years"—I said "It has nothing to do with me; I like to tell a woman to her face, not go behind her back"—she said "I have a good mind to go after her now, she is passing the Eastern Hotel; but, never mind, I will pay her a different road."
Cross-examined. The prisoner was a perfect stranger to me when she
came up and said this—I had never spoken to her before—I and Milly live together in the same house, but different rooms.
EMILY CLELLAN . I am a girl of the town, and live in Rich Street—I have known the prisoner about two years—on Friday night, between nine and ten, I saw her in the True Briton beerhouse—she said "Have you seen Milly?"—I said "Yes; she is down home"—she said "I want to see her on some old aggrievance"—she was in the tap-room, with her husband, up to about 10 or half-past—Annie Nutter, who was with me, left about 10.30—the prisoner did not leave then—I was with her for about an hour after that, or a little more—she was with me all that time—I heard on the Saturday of the vitriol being thrown—it was on the Friday night that the prisoner asked me this question.
Cross-examined. I did not notice the prisoner leave the house—I was in and out of the room, but not out of the house.
ANNIE NUTTER . I am a girl of the town, and live at 5, Rich Street, Limehouse, in the same house as the last witness—on a Friday night, a month ago, I was with her in the True Briton—I went there about 9 o'clock, and left about 10, or five minutes to 10—the prisoner came in directly after me, with a pail in her hand, for some water—we drank together—she merely asked after the prosecutrix—she said if she did not keep her tongue off of her she would pay her—I left her and her husband in the tap-room, about 10 minutes to 10—she did not go out at all during that time.
Cross-examined. When I came out I left Clellan there—the prisoner looked as if she had been washing—she came in in her body and skirt, but no shawl on—we treated her, and she treated us.
GEORGE HATFIELD . I am a chemist, in Commercial Road, Limehouse—the prosecutrix brought a bonnet and ulster to my shop, and asked me what I thought it was that was thrown over them—it was undoubtedly vitriol—several holes were burnt in the hat and ulster—if it had touched her eyes it would have blinded her.
GEORGE CLANFIELD (Policeman). On Saturday, the 29th, the prosecutrix made a complaint to me, and I went that same night to the prisoner's house—I told her the charge—she said she did not do it; that she was washing up to 9 o'clock, and, after 9, she spent the evening at Mr. Lane's, the True Briton beerhouse, and about 12 she went to the Eastern Hotel for some spirits, and that she had two witnesses to prove it—I know the lamp-post at the Eastern Hotel; it is about 200 yards from the True Briton.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARK LANE . I keep the True Briton beerhouse—I know the prisoner and her husband, by seeing them backwards and forwards at my house—they were there on Friday night, the 28th, from a few minutes before 10 till 20 minutes past 12—I am Sure she was not out of the house five minutes—I did not miss her at all—I was in my bar and parlour all the evening—she was in front of the bar, and in the latter part of the evening, in the tap-room—I saw Clellan and Nutter there that evening, about 10.30—I could not say when they came in.
ELIZABETH GOLDING . On Friday night, 28th February, I was in the True Briton—I saw the prisoner there at 120 minutes to 10—I left about 20 minutes past 12—the prisoner was there all that time, with her husband—I
am positive she never left the house during that time—there is a clock over the bar—I live in the same house with the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY . There was another indictment against the prisoner for a common assault, upon which no evidence was offered.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, March 3rd, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MOORE ANDREW CUFFE . I am a member of the firm of Orellano, Collis, and Cuffe, carrying on business as scholastic agents, at 32A, George Street, Hanover Square—the prisoner was in our employment up to the 19th February, at 10s. 6d. a week, for three or four weeks; before that he had 8s. a week—he left on the 19th February, and subsequently went into other employment—we keep an account at the Hanover Square branch of the London and County Bank—the cheque-book was kept in a drawer of Mr. Collie's table—the drawer was locked, but the keys were left in it during the day—the series number of the cheque-book is L 1846—five cheques at least have been abstracted—the five produced agree with the series number—they are dated, the 26th January, 10l.; two of 3rd February, 10l.; the 16th February, 10l., and 19th February, 5l.—they are not signed by me—the writing is like the prisoner's, slightly disguised; the letter r is similar—I have no doubt they are written by the prisoner—I gave no one authority to fill them up—they have all been paid—the prisoner had no authority to fill them up—he sometimes filled in the figure, but in those cases the cheques were crossed—I found this business letter on the prisoner's desk after he left; it is his writing, signed by him, per procuration—this letter is also the prisoner's writing, but he must have abstracted one which I wrote, to copy it from, which I entrusted him to post.
Cross-examined. The letter is a certificate of his character given by me—the dates and the amounts in the cheques are also like the prisoner's writing—the whole of the writing resembles his, especially the letter "s," and the words "ten pounds;" the "p" in pounds is like it—Mr. Collin and I usually draw cheques—Mr. Orellano never did draw cheques more than about twice—the practice of my partners has been to take cheques from the end of the book—the prisoner has been employed by us about four months; part of the time he was ill, and we kept the situation open for him—we had confidence in him—he left because we no longer required his services—we gave him a recommendation to Foster and Co.'s, into whose service he went—this is it (produced)—that was the letter he must have abstracted—we find situations for teachers—they wait in the office; the office is not left.
Re-examined. The writing is not like my partner's—we did not fill up the counterfoils.
WILLIAM ROBERT FITZGEBALD COLLIS . I am a partner in this firm—these cheques are in the prisoner's writing—the signature is like Mr. Cuffe's—I did not know anything about them till I saw them returned from the bank.
Cross-examined. The "F" in "February" and the "S" in "Solicitor," the "p" in "pounds," and the "81" in the date, are like the prisoner's—I have not studied under Mr. Chabot—I take cheques for my private account—I do not fill up the counterfoils—I was at the office daily.
Re-examined. The general appearance of the writing on the cheques is like the prisoner's.
WILLIAM HENRY HUDSON . I am chief cashier at the Hanover Square branch of the London and County Bank—Messrs Oreflano, Collis, and Cuffe kept an account there—the cheque book with the series No. L. 1846 was issued to them—the five cheques produced were all presented to me on different days, and cashed by me in gold—I have no recollection who presented them—the signature resembles Mr. Cuffe's, not Mr. Orellano's—the writing resembles the writing in the letter produced (the prisoner's writing).
Cross-examined. The general character of the letter is similar, but the "s" is a peculiar one, as well as the "F" in "February" and the figures "81"—the "8" starts from the top—I had an opportunity of examining them, when Mr. Cuffe said they were not his signatures.
DANIEL WILLIAM CANT . I am a clerk of Orellano and Co.—the prisoner had, on or about the 5th of February, a cheque—he covered it partly over with a piece of blotting paper, but I did not take much notice, as he said he had a cheque book, and I was busy—it resembled the colour of the London and County Bank cheque—I know the prisoner's writing—to the best of my belief these cheques are his writing.
Cross-examined. I have cashed cheques at the bank—Pickett, the other clerk, did not while I was there—Reed did—I did not mention the cheque I saw him with to any one.
FREDERICK CHURCH (Policeman C). About 1.30 on Monday, the 21st February, I went to 47, Wood Street, Cheapside, and saw the prisoner—I told him I wanted him to see Dr. Cuffe respecting forged cheques—he said "Yes, I will go and see him"—I took him to 32A, George Street—Dr. Cuffe showed him a cheque, and asked him if he knew anything about it—it was one of these five—he then showed him the letter (the prisoner's character) and asked him if he knew anything about that—he said "Yes, that is my handwriting"—Dr. Cuffe then gave him into custody for forging the five cheques—the prisoner made no reply—I took him to the station—I searched him—I found seven rings, a silver watch and hair guard, two pocket books, two cigarette cases, a card case, and two cigarette tubes, also the receipts (produced). ("Feb. 14th. Received from F. J. Reed the sum of 2l. 2s. on account of three guineas fee for one quarter payable in advance, of music hall tuition." "Feb. 17th, 1881. Received 1l. 1s. balance of fee," and one of Samuel Brothers, of Ludgate Hill, for 1l. 10s. for goods delivered, and Phillips and Co., tailors, High Holborn, 3l. 3s., dated 15th February, 1881.) I also found 1l. 8s. 10d. in cash—I should value the jewellery at 10l.; they are gold settings.
Cross-examined. I know Reed's father is respectable—he did not tell me his son boarded and lodged at home, but he said he thought his son was going wrong some time ago—I did not forget to tell the prosecution that.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANNIE REED . I am the prisoner's sister, and live at 9, Arthur Street, Gray's Inn Road—my father travels as a wholesale tobacconist—this is my watch produced—I lent it to my brothers—he lodged and boarded at home—he was allowed to keep his wages except 1s. a week reserved by his mother for his clothes—mother gave him the money to buy his clothes at Samuels's—I saw her do so—my father has comfortable means—this ring is mine—I lent it to my brother.
Cross-examined. I lent it him about three weeks before Christmas—he said he was going to a party—I did not ask for it back, I never wear it—I have seen one of the other rings on my brother at home in September last—I hare not seen him wearing the others—he has not given the 1s. a week to his mother except during the last three or four weeks—he had his luncheon before he went, and his dinner when he came home—I know nothing about the receipts for music hall tuition—I did not know he was taking lessons—the writing on the cheques is not like his—these two letters are—the one on the top is not (a press copy).
CHARLES REED . I am the prisoner's father—he is 17 next birthday—Messrs. Orellano's was his first regular situation—he slept at home—he came home when he left the office, went out again till about 10, and if he asked me to stay later he had permission to do so—I never interfered with his wages, I was away from home so much that I left that to his mother—he has always been a decent well-behaved lad—his mother is confined to her bed.
Cross-examined. I knew nothing of his music hall tuition—it was not with my approval—I never had to complain of his being late—I never made any observation to the officer about his conduct—I said I was thunderstruck when I knew the position the boy was in—I did not know of his having a cheque book.
Re-examined. I never said I knew he was going wrong.
MORRIS WOLFE . I am cashier to Messrs. Phillips, tailors, in High Holborn—the receipt in full for three guineas was given to Reed on his paying 1l. 15s. 6d.—he had paid a previous instalment of 1l. 7s. 6d.
Cross-examined. He paid it to our agent, Mr. Fletcher—I cannot tell where he lives.
EDGAR RITCHES . I am a salesman, of 1, Arthur Street, Gray's Inn Road—I know the prisoner well—he has been in the habit of buying and exchanging cheap jewellery—I have exchanged articles of that kind with him—he sold some to Mr. Cott, who is in Paris.
Cross-examined. I supplied him with some of the jewellery—I sell patent medicines—I deal in jewellery in my overtime—I have friends jewellers—I knew the prisoner intimately—I knew something about his music-hall tuition—I have not been there with him—I dare say I should recognise his writing; the writing on these cheques is not like it—the writing on two of the letters resembles that on the cheques, but not the bottom one.
Re-examined. This is the prisoner's writing (an admitted specimen).
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury, who considered the prosecutors ought to be more careful with their cheque book. — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and MEAD Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and SAMPSON defended Oliver, and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Aaronson.
ABRAHAM BROMET . I am a wholesale jeweller, in partnership with Emmanuel Levy, of 38, Jewin Street, City—I deal in cheap jewellery—Hutchinson was a watchman in my service—he drove a traveller's trap—on the 8th of September last he was out with it; when he returned he reported the loss of a bag of jewellery of the value of about 40l.—on the 7th of October he returned home and reported the loss of another bag of jewellery of the value of 30l.—believing his story, I still continued him in my service—on the 26th October he returned, reporting the loss of the whole things, horse, trap, jewellery, and everything, including a rug and a waterproof coat—the contents of the trap were worth 120l.; the horse and trap were worth about 80l.—he gave me a description of the way he lost it—I discharged him—I placed the matter in the hands of the police—I was taken to various places, where I identified my property, some, produced by Mr. Motcham, of the wholesale value of 23l. 17s. 4d.; by Mr. Hayes, 10l. 18s. 8d.; by Mr. Wortowitsch, 3l. 10s. 10d.; Mr. Muggeridge, 2l. 11s. 3d.; Mr. G. Wortowitsch, 8l. 3s. 9d.; Mr. Dorer, 2l. 14s. 1d.; Mr. Schwar, 12s. 6d.; Mr. Fernbach, 21l. 16s. 4d.; Mr. Schworer, 1l. 10s. 4d.; Mr. Knight, 19s.; Mr. Sullivan, 4l. 13s. 3d.; Mr. Kesler, 6s. 3d.; Mr. Warren, 2s., and Mr. Wallace, 3l. 7s. 10d.—I have also seen my property found on the prisoner's premises, of the value of 29l. 16s. 9d.—the total value of property stolen is about 190l.—I saw the rug at the police-station—the horse and trap were returned the day after the loss, after my partner went to see it at Walthamstow.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The rug is worth about 10s.—this is it (produced).
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. The jewellery is not sold at barbers' shops—the articles clean up well—I have no invoices here.
Re-examined. I have given the cost, prices—I sell to hosiers.
JOHN ROBINSON (Detective Sergeant G). On 3rd December I saw some jewellery in Mr. Joseph Knight's shop, a barber, of 73, Green Street, Bethnal Green—I made inquires—I produce here 19 pins—I afterwards went to Aaronson's place, 32, St. Peter's Road, Mile End, at about 7 p.m. with Stephen Marony—I showed Aaronson the pins—I said I had seen them at a barber's shop in Green Street, Bethnal Green; they were stolen on the 27th October last, "and the barber told me he bought them from you"—he examined them, and said "Yes, I did sell them; I bought them off two men"—I said "How much did you give for them?"—he said "50l. altogether"—I said "Have you any receipt or entry of them?"—he said "No; I do not keep books for entries"—I then told him I should take him into custody for stealing a large quantity of jewellery on the 27th October last—he said "I did not steal them; I bought them"—I told him I should search his place, and asked him if he had any more of the property—he said "Yes, I have some more, downstairs"—I then searched the front parlour and the front kitchen—under the sofa in the front kitchen I found two boxes containing 224 scarf-pins, and other jewellery, and another box at the end of the sofa, and a third
box under the arm of the sofa, containing 140 pairs of solitaires, 48 studs, and other articles of jewellery—I showed these things to the prosecutor, who identified them—it was a private house—the prisoner occupied four rooms, he told me.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have found since that he was a dealer—he answered all my questions—he gave me five addresses where he had sold a portion of the jewellery.
STEPHEN MARONY (Detective G). I went with Robinson to Aaronson's premises—I heard the conversation which has been deposed to, and I saw this property found—he said he had a letter on the file from the person from whom he bought some of the goods—I followed his wife into the front kitchen, and she took off the file this letter, dated 10th October—I said "That appears to refer to some other goods"—these are the goods here now—he gave me the names of several persons to whom he sold them—the letter purports to come from 22, Smith Street, Clerkenwell—on the 3rd December, about 8 a.m., I went to that address. (Read: "October 10th, 1880, 22, Smith Street, Clerkenwell. Dear Sir,—I want you to oblige me by keeping those things I left at your place last Saturday, till I see you again. I do not want to show them, as I bought them very cheap, and I have my doubt about them; so, it you will oblige me, I shall take it as a very great favour. Do not forget what I tell you. You will hear from me about Monday evening, or first thing Tuesday morning. Oblige me, and I shall take it as a great favour. I am, faithfully yours, G. Oliver.") I found Oliver there, in bed—I told him I should take him into custody for stealing a quantity of jewellery and other articles on the 26th October—he said "I do not know anything about it"—I then went into another room, where the prisoner's father was—the father said in the prisoner's presence "The goods were brought here by a man named Alexander, which my son sold to Aaronson"—the prisoner said "That is true"—upon further search I found the rug produced—he said Alexander also gave him that—I asked him where Alexander lived?—he said he knew where he did live, but he had removed, and he did not know where he was living now.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not know who he meant when he said Alexander—Oliver's is a jeweller's shop—he occupies the whole house.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I ascertained that Aaronson knew Oliver, and Oliver senior—Aaronson did not say he had asked Oliver's father whether the jewellery was all right before he sold it.
Re-examined. I did not refer to the letter to Oliver.
JOSEPH KNIGHT . I am a hairdresser, of 73, Green Street, Bethnal Green—shortly before Christmas Aaronson sold me some jewellery and some pins—these are the pins (produced) which I gave to Bromet—I gave 19s. for the 38 pins.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have known Aaronson before—I gave what I believed to be a fair price.
GEORGE MOTCHAM . I am a jeweller, of 138, Globe Road, Mile End Road—I have done business with Aaronson for about three years—on 17th September last I bought 2l. worth of jewellery from him, on 2nd October 35s. worth, and on 10th October some more—he said he got it at Clerkenwell in a sale lot—I pay a fair price—he said he bought them cheap, and he could sell them cheap—on 19th October and 8th
November I bought some more to the value of 13l. 14s.—on 13th December Marony and Mr. Bromet came to me—I handed over the property to them.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. The prosecutor identified all the 13l. worth as his property—I bought them openly in the ordinary way, and put them in the window directly—I gave a fair price.
Re-examined. I had sold about 30s. worth—I had never bought new jewellery of Aaronson before, only second-hand.
WILLIAM GEORGE HAYES . I am a jeweller, of 91, Hackney Road—in September, October, November, and December last I bought jewellery of Aaronson—I gave about 15l. for it altogether—at the end of December I produced the property to Mr. Bromet, but not all; I had sold about 1l. worth—I found some afterwards, and gave it to the detective—Aaronson said he bought them of a young man whose father was a commercial traveller, and who had died, so that the son had them to dispose of—it was a larger lot than usual, and he said he had had a windfall and he bought largely.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have had other transactions with him, and always found him a respectable man, who dealt in the ordinary way of our business, and gave a fair price.
HERMANN WORTOWITSCH . I am a watchmaker and jeweller, of 108, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich—in October last I purchased some jewellery of Aaronson, and afterwards on one or two occasions—altogether I paid him nearly 3l.—I gave it up to Mr. Bromet—he said he had some cheap jewellery if I could do with some.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I had a good many transactions with him—I gave him a fair price, and bought in an honest and open way.
WILLIAM MUGERIDGE . I am assistant to Mr. John Harris, pawnbroker, of 65, Church Street, Greenwich—on 13th October I bought some silver jewellery from Aaronson and some other articles for 3l. 8s.—on 1st January I gave up what was left to the prosecutor; I had sold some—Aaronson usually dealt in second-hand jewellery; I had never bought new before—I had known him about three years.
Gross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. He used to buy from my employers—he was a respectable man, gave a fair prioe, and it was an ordinary business transaction.
GOTTLIEB WORTOWITSCH . I am a jeweller at Greenwich—on 20th October, and on two or three occasions since, I have bought jewellery from Aaronson—I paid him 2l. 5s., and still owe him 2l. 5s.—I have returned the goods to Mr. Bromet, except one or two articles worth about 1s. 6d.—he said he had bought a job lot.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have known him between five and six years; he is a respectable man—I gave him a fair price, and bought in the ordinary way of trade.
Re-examined. I never bought new jewellery of him before, but mostly; second-hand.
JOSEPH SCHWORER . I am a jeweller, of 14, Green Street, Bethnal Green—I have known Aaronson about four years—I bought some plated solitaires of him in December last for 18s. and a pair of black earrings—I had mostly bought second-hand jewellery before that—he did not say where he got them from—I gave them up to Mr. Bromet.
Gross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. He was a respectable man—they were sold in the ordinary way at a fair price.
PRIMUS DORER . I am a jeweller, of Lewisham Road, Greenwich—at the beginning of November last, and once since, I bought some jewellery from Aaronson; I paid him 25s. altogether—I have given it up to Mr. Bromet—I only bought new jewellery from him on those occasions.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I had bought old stock of him—I had known him four years—he bore a good character—the sale was conducted in the ordinary way at a fair price.
PAUL SCHWAR . I am a jeweller, of 20, Blackheath Road—in November last I bought some plated jewellery of the prisoner for 18s.—part of that sum was represented by old gold—I had dealt with him before in old jewellery.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have known him for five years—he was a respectable man—we dealt in the ordinary way at a fair price.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I have carried on business 16 years—I made no entries in a book—I always found Aaronson a respectable man; I have known him 16 years—we dealt in the ordinary way, and I gave a fair price.
JOHN HUTCHINSON . I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—from May to 26th October last year I was employed by Mr. Bromet—previous to the 8th September I had known Alexander—on that day I was outside my master's premises with a trap; it was loaded with jewellery—I waited there two hours whilst it was loaded; I spoke to Alexander—a porter put a bag of jewellery on the front; Alexander asked me what the bag contained—the bag was left there—three days afterwards I missed it; I told my employers—I drove the trap all day, and put it up at night—three days afterwards Alexander came by and took it off the trap; I was standing against the horse—he went away with it; I reported it to my master—I saw Alexander the next morning; I had conversations with him—I saw Oliver in Petticoat Lane; Alexander was with me; Oliver spoke to him; I did not know Oliver then—I heard Alexander ask Oliver what he dealt in; Oliver said "Buying and selling"—Alexander said "I have something I can sell you," and they made an appointment for the next day—I saw Oliver two or three days after in the St. John's Road; he said "I am going to Black's, to get some money for some goods I have left up there"—afterwards he said he had sold some goods to a man named Aaronson; he did not say what Aaronson had given him, Alexander always paid me—Alexander was there—on 7th October my master ordered me to go to Brixton with the trap—I drove round to Smith Street, Clerkenwell; I do not know the number, it was a beer-house—Alexander asked me to go; I saw Alexander, not Oliver at all, on that occasion—a bag of jewellery was inside the trap; I opened the trap, and gave Alexander the bag—he took it in the beerhouse—I went back to my master, and made a statement—the next morning I went to Alexander's lodgings in Berkeley Court—I saw Alexander and Oliver in bed together; I asked them whether they had got the bag; Oliver said it was in Alexander's box, and that they had not got rid of it yet—they showed me the bag—Oliver said he would take the goods to Mr. Aaronson and sell them—I saw them again on the Sunday morning; they said they had taken the bag to Aaronson's, and got 12l. for it; but they had not
got the money; it was the money Aaronson had offered them before—I cannot tell how much I had—Alexander always gave me the money; it was given to me the share of the bag—I had not seen Aaranson before 26th October—Oliver, Alexander, and I used to meet at night-time in a beerhouse in Smith Street—I mentioned that I was going to leave; Oliver said "Don't leave, we will see if we cannot get some more yet," and they gave me some money and persuaded me not to leave—I saw a man they told me was Woody in a public-house—Oliver said Woody would ransack the trap for 5s. or 10s.—they asked for my key, and they would get a key like it that would fit my trap—afterwards they said they could not get one like it—it was arranged they should get a pony and cart, and follow me round till my master left me and I went to go to dinner when they would get up and drive my trap away, and one of them would drive the other trap—on 26th October I drove the trap with a traveller in it; when the traveller got down I went to the Crown coffee-house, opposite Farringdon Street Sation—before that I had seen Alexander and Oliver in Smith Street; Oliver asked me where I was going to my dinner, and I told him, and he said he would be round—I went to the Crown coffee-house, leaving the trap outside; the rug was on the trap, and the jewellery inside—I saw Oliver get up and drive the trap away; Alexander drove a pony and cart behind—I waited about 10 minutes—I then went to kings's Cross Police-station, and reported the loss—I told my maser—I was discharged—I saw Alexander the same night; I saw Oliver the next Sunday—I went to Aaronson with one parcel of jewellery, which he bought in the shop—I was not present when any of the rest was sold, nor when Oliver and Aaronson were together—afterwards I asked Oliver how much he got for the goods; he told me 12l.—Oliver said they would hire the trap of a Mr. Nicholls, who lived at the bottom of Percival Street.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Inspector Peel read over my statement—I heard him read that Oliver proposed that Woody should ransack the trap—when I said at the police-court that Alexander proposed it I made a mistake; they both proposed it—I knew what Alexander meant when he spoke about the bag—I knew he meant to steal it—I did not hesitate about it; I agreed with him the next morning—I told the police a lie when I reported the loss of the trap—I told my master another lie as well as two previous lies—I commenced to tell the truth after being arrested, because it was the truth; that was the only reason.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I was an honest lad till corrupted by Alexander—he suggested that I should rob my master—if it had not been for him I should never have done it—it is true that I asked Alexander where he was going—he said "I am going to look for some work"—I never said "There is no occasion to look for work; I can put a few pounds in your way, that is if you can sell the goods"—I did not give him the bag to take—I made an appointment with him, but I did not ask him for money to get a pair of boots—I cannot tell you how much money I had; about 6l. or 7l., just what Alexander chose to give me, because he could not get rid of the goods—I never said to him "You can have all the lot for what I care"—I first knew, him when we worked together—he never suggested to me to be dishonest before—he said he could get rid of the bag—I carried the parcel for Mr. Aaronson
from Oliver's father's shop—I did not go in—I waited outside till Oliver came out, and said "Take this parcel down to Aaronson's"—I did not see what was given for it, and only know from what they told me.
CHARLES ALEXANDER . I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—I was acquainted with Hutchinson before the 8th September—I met him that day, and had some conversation with him—about the 8th I saw him with a trap in Jewin Street—I was waiting outside Mr. Bromet's plane by appointment with him—as soon as Mr. Bromet got off the trap Hutchinson got off with a bag in his hand—I took it in my hand, and want home to my lodging—the bag contained lockets, alberts, scarf-pins, and sunday articles of jewellery—shortly afterwards I met Oliver—I knew him before—I asked him what he was doing; he said "I'm doing a bit of buying and selling with father"—I made an appointment to meet him on the morrow, and I met him at his father's shop—when I asked him his said he could do with some jewellery—at the shop I said "This is some of what I have got," and produced some jewellery—he said he would come round and look at it, and he came round and saw the bag—he asked me one or two questions, which I did not exactly understand, but I made him understand they were stolen, and he said "I know how to sell them"—he spoke what is called "back slang"—he took some of it away, and afterwards gave me 2l. 10s. or 3l.—he afterwards had all therest, and gave me some more money—I saw Hutchinson after that and gave him some—before the 7th October Oliver asked me if it was possible to let him have another bag—I told him I would see Hutchinson—I saw him; Oliver was present—I said "Do you think we can have another bag?"—he said "I dare say you can"—Oliver said "I will come round the first opportunity I have"—he came round on a Thursday—Hutchinson drove round to a beerhouse where Oliver and I were waiting—he said "Where is George?"—I said "Downstairs; I will go and fetch him"—he said "All right"—in the meantime Oliver drove round George Street—I said "Oliver wants us to have another bag"—Hutchinson said "All right, go and fetch it"—I went and fetched it and brought it to Oliver—it was then taken to my lodgings; from there Oliver and I took it to Aaronson's—Oliver suggested our taking it there—I waited outside while Oliver took in the bag—when he came out he said Aaronson would not give more than 12l. for the bag—I gave Hutchinson some move money afterwards—Hutchinson said to me and Oliver that he was going to leave his situation, not because there was any suspicion against him, but because he did not like stopping there—Oliver said "Do not leave yet; perhaps we might have some more," and he gave him some money—Hutchinson said "You can have all the lot for what I care"—we arranged to meet him near Farringdon Railway-station the following Tuesday, when I was to drive another trap—we met accordingly—Hutchinson went through Charles Street, Hatton Garden, and came to a coffee-house—he went in—Oliver got up into the trap and drove it and its contents away—I followed Oliver with the other trap as far as Finsbury Park, when my trap broke down; then I drove the other trap and Oliver the broken one, and the contents were transferred into the broken trap—I went on and put up the broken trap at Chingford or Walthamstow—I left Mr. Bromet's trap there—the jewellery was driven home to Clerkenwell—it was taken to my lodging, and afterwards sold to Aaronson at Oliver's shop, Oliver, hit father, Aaronson, and myself
being present—I was in the parlour during some of the conversation; but Oliver came into the parlour and told me to go in to Aaronson—I went in, and Aaronson said he could not give more than 12l.—I said it was a very low price, but that would do—the horse and trap were hired of Mr. Nicholls, of Percival Street, Clerkenwell, by me, Oliver being present—it was taken back the same night by Oliver and me.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I did not tempt Hutchinson to rob his master; he tempted me on each occasion—had it not been for him I should not have been dishonest—he said he could put a few pounds in my way if I could sell the things, and as far as he cared I might have the lot—I made a written communication to the police before I was in custody—I was in custody on another charge, it was for robbing a boy of a bag and four silver rush boxes—Hutchinson had nothing to do with that, no more did I—I was remanded and discharged—I cannot remember a word of the back slang—I expect to be punished—I shall be surprised if I get lighter off.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I heard of Mr. Hadoock, a detective, from talk with Oliver—it was a made up affair between me and Oliver that I should say the goods were my father's, who had died, so that Oliver's father should not know they were stolen—Oliver mentioned it, and I said "Yes"—both Oliver and I paid Hutchinson—Oliver proposed to take the second bag of jewellery—if Hutchinson—says I proposed it, it might be correct, but I think I am correct, and I stick to my version—I could not say who proposed driving off with the horse and trap—I do not recollect Woody's name at all—I remember him being in a public-house—Oliver said if Woody had a key he would ransack the trap for 5s.—I was in the dock when Hutchinson's statement was read—it was not a made-up affair that Oliver should say I had given him the rug, he took what he wanted, and I took what I wanted.
Re-examined. Whilst I was under remand upon the other charge, and before I saw Hutchinson, I communicated with the police; I made a statement, and was brought up and charged with this offence—the statement was read—I have made no other—nothing was said in Oliver's father's presence as to who Hutchinson was.
JONATHAN NICHOLLS . I am a greengrocer, of 32, Percival Street, Clerkenwell—on the 25th October Oliver and Alexander hired my pony and cart—they brought it back about 10 p.m.—on the next morning Alexander came for it and took it away for Oliver—I next saw it about 11 o'clock at night, when Alexander brought it back—I saw it delivered, it started from my door—it was broken both days.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Oliver has had the horse and trap several times, and always paid for it, except the last two days, then he did not.
WILLIAM PEEL (Police Inspector G). I received a communication, in consequence of which I went to the House of Detention at Clerkenwell, and saw Alexander—he was under remand upon another charge—it was upon the 6th January—I wrote his statement and got him to sign it—on the 21st January, in consequence of information I received, I went to the cell at Clerkenwell and saw Hutchinson, he made a statement at his own request.
AARONSON received a good character.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude. OLIVER†**— GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in October, 1879.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
HUTCHINSON— Two Years' Imprisonment.
ALEXANDER. received a good character, his friends promising after sentence to get him out of thecountry.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, March 3rd, 1881.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
MR. HURRELL Prosecuted.
CHARLES HENDERSON . I live at 169, Copenhagen Street, Islington, and am a dairyman—at about 1.30 a.m. on the 8th February I was in Pentonville Road, going home, when the prisoners came up to me—Russell took hold of me behind while O'Callaghan took 2l. 10s. 7d. out of my pocket, and a latch-key and stable-key—as soon as Russell released hold of me I turned round and caught hold of him, and he struggled away, and I ran after him and called out "Police!"—just as I caught hold of him a constable came and caught hold of them, and Russell took a belt off and started to ill-use the constable with the buckle of the belt—O'Callaghan got away—I then gave a description of O'Callaghan to the police—I was fetched out of bed about 1 o'clock on the following Sunday morning—when I got to the station I saw about half a dozen men in a row, and the Inspector asked me to look along the faces and see if I knew any of them, and I saw him directly—I had an opportunity of observing him when he robbed me, because he stood partly in front and partly at the side—I have no doubt as to him.
Cross-examined by O'Callaghan. I told them at the police-station that you were a short man with a clean face, had a rather a prominent nose, and a short coat on—I was perfectly sober at the time—I had been down to my lodge and that kept me out so late—I had nothing except two glasses of beer—it was dark at the time—there was a gas lamp close to you.
JOHN KELLY (Policeman G R 28). I was on the north side of Pentonville Road at the time in question, when I saw Russell running as fast as he could and the prosecutor running after him, calling out "Stop thief!"—I ran after him and the prosecutor just caught him at the same time—he said "I have done nothing"—I said "I don't know yet"—the prosecutor said "You have robbed me"—I said to Russell "You hear what the prosecutor has said; you will have to come to the station with me"—he drew this belt from his pocket and hit me several times across the head; I knocked him down and held him till I was relieved by another constable—I took him to the station and he was charged—I searched him and only found 6d. in silver and 7 3/4 d. in bronze—the prosecutor gave a description of the other man—he told me he was a smart fellow, clean shaved, with a round pea jacket—he said he was about 5 feet 5 inches or 5 feet 6 inches—he said he had a very good look at him when he was at his pocket—he said he had high cheek bones—I afterwards arrested O'Callaghan on Pentonville Hill, outside the Belvedere public-house, at about 11.45 p.m. on the 12th—he
was with his back towards me cleaning out his pipe—I said "I am going to take you into custody for being concerned with another man who I have in custody, for a robbery in Pentonville Road"—he said "I have done nothing; I shan't go"—I said to him "You had better come quietly" and another constable came up and took him to the station—he went quietly—I searched him at the station, but there was nothing found on him—the charge was read over to him—he said "All right, I can account for myself"—I afterwards called the prosecutor out of bed between 1 and 2 a.m.—he came to the station with me—I was not present when the prisoner was identified.
Cross-examined. I had another prisoner in custody—I let him go—you were not speaking of him—the man I took first was in one bar and you slipped out at the other side—I found out my mistake and let him go and came back to take you.
O'Callaghan's Statement before the Magistrate road, "I was not there, I was in bed. I shall call witnesses."
Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE RUSSELL . I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I saw the prosecutor first at the corner of Red Lion Street, at about 1.15—he picked up with a young woman and he came towards the Angel, and I and another man, who is not in custody, were together, and he and this young woman were going into a bawdy house, and in front of the bawdy house was a garden with a long area—there was just room enough for about two persons to walk up, and just as he got up there the man not in custody laid hold of him, and when he laid hold of him I put my hand in his pocket and robbed him, and took the money from him and the keys which are now at Bagnigge Wells Police-station—when I got his money I ran to the bottom of the street, when the prosecutor got hold of me and asked me for his money—I said "I will give it to you," and just as I was going to give it to him the policeman came up and there was a tussle between us, and the man who was with me came across the road—the prosecutor never recognised him, and I gave him the money—the policeman chucked me in the road and kicked me in the jaw; I pulled off my belt to hit him, and if I had hit him no doubt I should nave hurt him, but I did not—the proseoutor was drunk—the other man's name was Shontoe—that is a nick-name I know him by—I had known him about five weeks.
Cross-examined. I had the keys when I was taken to the police-station—they were in my pocket—they never searched me, and when I was in the cell I chucked them down the w. c.—there was a hole in my left-hand pocket, and they slipped through and went down—the other man was close by when the policeman was there—I suppose it happened about 10 yards this way towards King's Cross and the Angel—I am the man who stood in front, and the other man held him back—the other man did not attempt to run away—I thought the proseoutor was my companion—he asked me for the money—I said I would give it to him, and just as I was going to the policeman laid hold of me—I tried to push him off—the other man came across the road with the policeman and I gave it to him, and the policeman threw me in the road.
JOHN KELLY (Re-examined). The prosecutor was sober—it was impossible for Russell to hand the money to another man without my seeing him—there was no other man, only the other constable and, myself—the
keys I cannot find; I searched every pocket; I think lie said he threw them down the closet—I think there was a hole in one of his pockets—if the keys had been on him I should have found them—I have a small knife which I found in his pocket—the closet is in the cell.
CHARLES HENDERSON (Re-examined). I was not with a prostitute at the time in question—two or three spoke to me as I went along, but I went quietly along and never opened my mouth to them—I was not going to any bawdy house—there was nobody near at the time for him to pass the money to—I am positive that O'Callaghan is the man who took my money.
O'Callaghan, in his defence, said he had five witnesses who ought to be present to prove his innocence.
O'CALLAGHAN**— GUILTY .
The indictment also charged Russell with having been convicted of felony at this Court on the 15th December, 1873, in the name of Thomas Dewson, to which he pleaded NOT GUILTY.
JOHN MOINTYRE (Session Warder of Coldbath Fields). I produce a certificate of conviction relating to Russell, dated 15th December, 1873, for stealing a scarf pin, when he was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude and two years' police supervision—I was present and had known him previously—I have known him for 11 years as a convicted thief—prisoners give different names and ages—I should say he was about 28.
Cross-examined by Russell. I can swear to you—I have not got your marks with me now—your photograph is gone for.
O'Callaghan PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. M. WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
MARY ANN SHORTHOUSE . I live at 186, Brumsgrove Street, Birmingham, and am the sister of Henry Shorthouse—I saw him on Monday last—I was present at Derby when he was married to Georgiana Hassall, the prisoner (certificate produced)—they lived together about two years and nine months—they travelled with writing-desks and tables, &c.
Cross-examined. I am not sure it was two years and nine months; I might have said at Marlborough Street that they lived together three or four years; she said in her own letter it was two years and nine months—I have not that letter here—I heard from my friends they were travelling about with small wares.
HENRY JONES . I live at 21, Queen Street, Rhyl, and am a dealer in fancy goods—I was married to the prisoner in Dublin on the 26th October, 1869—she left me about November, 1878, I think—I knew her former husband, Shorthouse; I saw him in Birmingham about eight years ago, when the prisoner said, "There goes Shorthouse"—she did not say who he was; she knew that I knew him—I knew them to be living together some little time after I saw Shorthouse in Birmingham—I knew she was a married woman.
Cross-examined. I have instructed Counsel, but not exactly in this case—I have a Counsel watching for some other little matter that might come out—I knew Mr. Shorthouse very well as a hawker, and the prisoner,
and that they were living together—that was about 1866—I lived with her for four years as my wife before I married her—I was ultimately married to her at St. Anne's Church, Dublin—she did not run away from me when I took her to the church—I wish to correct a statement I made at the police-court—I am very nervous—I said at the police-court "I cannot say whether she ran away when I took her to the church to be married; I don't recollect" but I have had plenty of time to consider now, and I swear she did not—I did not get any one to marry us by farce—I knew one of the witnesses to the ceremony—he introduced the other as his wife—I did not pick him up in the street—I knew him well as a traveller—I was not aware that the prisoner was married to Mr. Shorthouse—I never met him till I met him in Birmingham—I did not take his wife away—I met her in Manchester, and she said she had left Shorthouse, who she had been travelling with, and wanted to travel with me—I married her niece soon after she left me and sold me up—I am not sure whether it was her niece; there was some doubt about it—the prisoner did not complain that I did not provide her with proper means—I have Counsel here to watch, for this reason, I knew Mr. South, or rather Mr. North, in this way; we kept a lodging-house and three fancy shops; I had a little drink once, was in bed, and the prisoner got me to make a sort of deed of gift—she thought I was dying, I suppose—I said "What would you like?"—it was put down on a bit of paper and put behind the looking-glass, and while I slept she took it out and got it made into a deed of gift, and three months after she sold me up and was married to Mr. South—I hope to get my property back afterwards; that is why I have Counsel here, not because I am afraid that certain questions may be put to me which may be unpleasant to answer—I never told the prisoner that Mr. Shorthouse was dead, I swear—she always persuaded me to marry her.
NEWMAN TURPIN (Police Inspector C). On the 7th February I arrested the prisoner at Great Marlborough Street—I said "I arrest you on a charge of marrying George South, your husband, Henry Shorthouse, being then alive; there is also another charge against you of marrying Henry Jones, your husband, Henry Shorthouse, being at that time alive"—she made no reply.
ROBERT SLATEMAN . I live at 18, High Street, Rhyl, and am a fancy dealer—the prisoner does not owe me any money; she has paid—she told me soon after the sale that she was not the wife of Jones, but of Henry Shorthouse—I mentioned the matter to the police—she is not related to me, nor is Jones, nor South, nor Shorthouse.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
EDWARD KELLETT . I am an upholsterer, warehouseman, and manufacturer, of 89, Queen Street, Manchester—the prisoner entered my employ as traveller and manager of the mat department on the 8th May last at a salary of 2l. per week and a commission, to be determined when we took the stock and knew the exact amount of business done—he was also paid all legitimate travelling expenses—the arrangement was that all accounts he received should be by cheque if possible, and they were to be
remitted the same night as received—he had authority to sign receipts "pro Edward Kellett"—in October last I received an order through the prisoner from Messrs. Rylands and Co., amounting to 20l. 19s., for which the prisoner never accounted to me—he received the account on January 27th—I received this telegram from him, dated January 31st: "Could not get any money on Saturday to get home with; entirely without; shall be at the warehouse at 5 o'clock"—a sale of goods was made to Messrs. Spencer, Turner, and Co. on the 9th November, amounting to about 6l. 13s. 6d., which the prisoner never handed over—on the 9th February I received this letter from him, dated the 8th. (Read: "Dear Sir,—I have received as below, and will remit to-morrow. Yours, J. Grimshaw. Cash, Spencer, Turner, and Co., 5l. 13s. 6d.; Rylands and Co., London, 19l. 16s.") I received a communication from the warehouse on the 11th that the money had not come to hand, in consequence of which I saw the prisoner at Anderton's Hotel, Fleet Street—I said "Mr. Grimshaw, the money you reported you had received has not arrived at the warehouse"—he said "I have sent it off this morning in two envelopes in half notes, one addressed in our own addressed envelope and the other a plain directed one"—I went home by the 12 o'clock train that night from Euston, and on opening the letters on Monday morning I naturally looked for this money from the prisoner, and could not find it, and never had it—I saw him again on Tuesday, the 15th, at Anderton's Hotel—I said "Mr. Grimshaw, your money is not yet to hand; I think it very strange and very unbusiness like"—he replied "It was very careless on my part, but I omitted to send the money on Saturday, but I posted it in Fleet Street at 11.30 this morning"—that night I wrote to the warehouse—I afterwards made inquiries as to other matters—I had been supplying a quantity of goods to a firm trading as Bryan and Co., in respect of which the prisoner received 20l. from Mr. Halford, for which he never accounted to me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The first wages you received from me was on 8th May, 1880, on the terms of 2l. a week and a commission, which should be determined when we knew the profits of the department—we have not yet had a stock-taking of the department—you have not gone into it with me, for the simple reason that there were no profits—at Christmas I saw that with your expenses there could be no profit to the department—it was arranged that all legitimate travelling expenses should be paid like any other traveller—I sent for you home when you were away, and you did not come—sometimes your expenses would be 12s. to 15s. a day; sometimes they might be 18s. or 19s.—I will not swear that your expenses have ever been under 25s. a day in London—you have not been away 42 days on my business.
By the COURT. He was not allowed to attend to other business—he would have to give an account of receipts and expenses on returning from a journey—it was an arrangement between the cashier and himself—supposing he broke into money he received from a customer to pay expenses, I should not object, if he gave a proper explanation when he came home.
By the Prisoner. Mr. Scoles, the cashier, gave you 5l. on the 10th January, on account of expenses—he gave you 30s. on 3rd February for your fare to London—I met you several times at Anderton's Hotel, from February 3rd to February 7th; I paid you 6l. for hotel bills—I have no receipt for it.
By the COURT. On February 4th I was at Anderton's Hotel, and his bill was presented to him; which, I think, was nearly 4l.—he said "Mr. Kellett, I have very little money, let me have some of yours, will you?"—I said "With pleasure," and to make up his account to pay his hotel bill at Anderton's I gave him 2l. 10s.—that paid his bill up to that date—from that time forward up to the day of his arrest he paid no account at Anderton's—he was not stopping there at my desire—from February 4th up to the day of his arrest we have had a bill sent from Anderton's for his hotel expenses for a fortnight.
By the Prisoner. I should say you were away on my business about a week—we allow no one to interfere with a cheque—I believe we had a customer in Oxford Street named W. S. Burton—I know nothing of the cashier giving you 6l. 12s. 6d. the first week in December for travelling expenses—(Referring to a book from the prisoner)"Edward Kellett 10l."—I never received a farthing from you—I have never seen that account before—there is 1l. 16s. for advertising, which is rather peculiar—I had 10l. from Halfhide, a customer, for which I gave him a receipt—I don't recollect that he told me who he received it from—I had a telegram from Anderton's Hotel, saying you wanted to see me, and I met you there on the Tuesday morning—you told me that Halfhide had been advertising, and you had been trying to get him a partner—I said it was not my business—I have no doubt you wrote this letter dated 26th January. (Read: "Mr. Edward Kellett. Dear Sir,—I called upon Mr. Halfhide to-day, and he told me you had written him to say the cheque dated the 25th had been paid in. This is entirely contrary to what I told Mr. Scoles, and if it is returned unpaid the injury is greater to your credit than Halfhide's, as your time had not arrived for going for what he owes us. I believe I told you plainly I would either one way or the other get you sufficient money to meet Whittle's bill, &c. (Signed) J. Grimshaw.) I said before the Magistrate at Guildhall, "I found Mr. Grimshaw's books in his department up to December satisfactory"—we render a statement of account each month to every customer, in which every transaction is noted, and if it were not correct the customer would let me know, or we should take it for granted it was correct—when you entered my service you asked me to lend you some money—I declined, hut found somebody to do it for you, and lent you my name—you did not ask for money on account of your commission.
Re-examined. I believe at the time I received that letter of the 26th January I was going to take proceedings against Messrs. Bryan and Co. for the recovery of 42l. 6s.—I did not know of any money being received from them at that time.
By the JURY. We have thought it better not to pay Anderton's hotel bill until after this trial.
WILLIAM BRYAN HALFORD . I live at 98, Bartholomew Close, and trade as Bryan and Co.—I started there in October last—I have known the prisoner for five or six years—I saw him last July or August, when he said he was in the mat and matting trade—he asked if I should like to be agent in town for the firm—I said I should; and he afterwards sent me some samples from Manchester—he told me he was a kind of partner in his own department, and received a commission,'and had the sole management of the department for Kellett—I took a warehouse by his wish at 93, Bartholomew Close—I traded as Bryan and Co. in the
retail, and Halford in the wholesale—the prisoner sent up 85l. 3s. 9d. worth of samples, in two or three lots, which I paid for in December, and I received other goods the following month—altogether I received about 427l. worth in three months—at different times I have paid him 298l. 10s.—the goods were pressed upon me—I wanted the commission—I supplied the goods in my own name in the wholesale—I was not introduced to Mr. Kellett until February.
Cross-examined. I paid you 20l. on 5th February, when Mr. Kellett was in town with you; it was 10l., and two 5l. notes, I think—I know Halfhide, a customer of yours—you told me he gave you a cheque for 7l. 10s., which would be 6l. for your expenses to go on with, and that they cashed it at Anderton's Hotel, and that it was returned dishonoured, and that, under pressure, you had to give the hotel proprietor 7l. 10s. out of that 20l. for that cheque, and that Halfhide told you that I said you were to pay that cheque out of my money—I demanded the whole 20l. back; 17l. 10s. of it had gone, and you handed me the 2l. 10s., and had a sovereign back—I believe the 427l. worth of goods does not include the 85l. 8s. 9d. worth; I remitted that to the firm—I can only show receipts for 20l.—I paid you at your own request—I have had no statement rendered for January—you first told me you were a partner, and afterwards that you drew out 4l. a week, and had 10 per cent, on net profits—I have paid the money over in notes and gold, without receipts—Halfhide told me he had had 10l. from you for Mr. Kellett.
Re-examined. I did not take receipts—there was an arrangement that I Would pay accounts when due.
By the Prisoner. I sold a good many of the goods at a profit—my books will not show the profit—the price was submitted to yon before they were sold.
WALTER HOGGAN . I live at 55, Wood Street, London—I am cashier in the employ of Ryland and Son, Limited, wholesale warehousemen—my firm was indebted to Mr. Kellett in the sum of 20l. 19s.—on the 27th January I paid the prisoner by a cheque for 19l. 16s.—he afterwards asked me to make it payable to him, and I struck out "E. Kellett," and wrote in "Samuel Gnmshaw "(produced)—I have a receipt.
ALBERT HARRIS . I am a cashier in the employ of Messrs. Spencer, Turner, and Co., wholesale worehousemen, of Lisson Grove—on the 3rd February the prisoner called at our place for payment of 5l. 13s. 6d., for which I gave him a cheque (produced)—he applied for the correct amount—the cheque came back to me endorsed "Edward Kellett"—the receipt is signed "Edward Kellett"—no procuration.
JOHN MITCHELL (Policeman). I arrested the prisoner on a warrant on the 17th February—I read the warrant to him, and he said 10l. of the 20l. referred to in the warrant had been paid to Mr. Kellett—I found the letter that has been read upon him.
The Prisoner in his defence said that if the cashier were present he could prove that if he had gone home and presented his account at the warehouse it would have been passed as all others had been, and that if Mr. Kellett had asked him to sit down at Anderton's Hotel and account for his money he could have done so, but he had no opportunity, and urn given into custody at once, and that Halferd's amount he had never had.
GUILTY.** Recommended to mercy on account of the loose way in which Mr. Kellett kept his accounts. — Five Years Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, March 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. MONCTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.
JOHN RAYMOND BOYCE . I am a timber merchant, at Granite Wharf, Wapping—I have had transactions with the prisoner for some years—in the first instance for cash—subsequently I drew on him, taking his father's endorsement to the bills—about 12 months before last October that arrangement was altered, and I then drew on him without taking his father's endorsement; that was at his request—prior to 26th October I had on several occasions assisted him to meet the bills which I had drawn on him—on 23rd October there was a current bill for 150l. odd, Ming due on 17th December, and also one for 152l., falling due on 25th October—there was also about 40l. standing on the books, undrawn for—on 28rd October a son of the defendant's brought me this letter, asking for 40l. to meet the bill, and I sent back a reply enclosing a cheque for 40l.—on the 25th, the day the bill fell due, the prisoner came to me—I asked him if the bill was paid—he said "Yes, that is all right"—he said he had come about the purchase of more lath wood—I said I was extremely dissatisfied with having again to advance money to meet a bill, that I had met with several losses, and I was determined to prevent a repetition of them—he got rather out of temper with me, and said he was doing a bood business, and getting a large price for his Work, that he had heavy accounts outstanding, and that temporary pressure alone made him require the money; that he had to renew some bills to the amount of about 160l., which he then had in his possession, but had not been able to discount them—he also told me that he was the owner of two houses, and that he was obliged to keep by him a sum of money in order to purchase a public-house, which at any moment he might be called upon to do—I asked him what his stock was—he said at that time it consisted of about four frames of lath wood, and he desired me to give him 16 more frames to make up the 20—I let him have the wood, which he selected at about the value of 163l. 6s.—the exact amount of wood he was about to take was not determined, owing to there being a small amount of Petersburg wood, and he was not certain how it would work—I received this letter from him, dated the 16th October, after he had tested the wood, stating that he liked it very much and would take the remainder—the letter enclosed a cheque for 40l.—I drew on him this bill for 198l. 12s. 6d.—I agreed to date it the 16th October, after he had tested the wood, stating that he liked it very much and would take the remainder—the letter enclosed a cheque for 4l.—I drew on him this bill for 193l. 12s. 6d.—I agreed to date it the 16th October, making it fall due at four months on the 19th February—that bill has been returned by my bankers dishonoured—I was induced to enter into the contract with him from his statement as to his position—he took away all the wood he had selected, including the Petersburg wood, between the 25th October and 20th November, and these are his receipts (preduced)—on the 3rd November, for certain reasons, I wrote him a letter asking him to lend me 100l.—I had at that time a large balance at my
banker's, 2000l. and securities besides—on 15th December I received this letter from him (This stated that he was unable to meet the acceptance on Friday, and he was compelled to stop payment and call his creditors together)—in consequence of that I went and saw him on the 17th at his house—I told him that after his statement to me I could not possibly understand why the bill had not been met, and said "What are you prepared to put to the bill"—he said he had not 5l.—I told him that he had robbed me, and that I should put the matter into my solicitor's hands—he said perhaps his father might do something—nothing was said about stock; I was rather too indignant to listen about stock—I did not hear any more from him—the bill was dishonoured, and was deducted from my account—on 1st January I received the notice of his having filed his petition—I attended the first meeting with my solicitor, Mr. Beard, on the 17th, and proved for the amount due to me, 401l. 5s.—the defendant was present, and was examined by Mr. Beard—an offer was made of 1s. in the pound—I objected, but it was carried against me—subsequently before Mr. Registrar Murray, when the defendant was present, I again objected, unsuccessfully.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's father used to endorse the bills at my request—I cannot say up to what date, exactly; possibly up to March, 1879—I should not think later—the letter for the 40l. was written on the 23rd October, and on the 25th it was still owing—on the 25th I had supplied him with wood to the amount of 85l. 9s. 8d.—that was the old balance that was then owing—he had sufficient wood for me to draw on him for 189l.—very possibly none of the wood had left the premises between the 25th and 28th; my books will show—the first delivery took place on the 25th, to the value of 20l.; on the 27th, three loads, to the value of 30l.—on the 28th I received the letter with the 40l. cheque—I continued to supply him with goods after this—I did not believe him to be a man of large capital; at the same time I knew what his business was, with large amounts outstanding—I always thought he was in a fair position—on the 31st March, 1879, I lent him 40l. to meet a bill of 120l. 10s.; on 17th March, 1880, I lent him 60l. towards meeting a bill of 190l.; on 21st of April I lent him 30l. to meet a bill of 123l., and on 10th July, 25l. towards meeting a bill of 170l.—he did not tell me the name of the public-house he was about taking, or where the houses were—each time I advanced him money it was to be the last, he said he should not require it again—I always protested against it—I should not have asked him a lot of questions if I had been satisfied—I had received a notice from my bankers a little time before, and they said they did not care about receiving Andrews's bills—that was before the 23rd October—my letter of the 23rd December, saying I was wanting money, was a ruse—I did not want money at that time—invoices were not delivered with the wood, because it was impossible to ascertain what the amount would be until all the goods were delivered—the wood was set on one side for him to take away as he liked—I said, before taking out the summons, that I was prepared to wait and see what his father would do—if his father had come forward and paid the money, I should not have prosecuted him—I should have been very glad to have got it—this is a prosecution by myself—I doubt if there are any creditors but myself—finding I could not get my money, I took out the summons for fraud—I had previously conferred with my solicitor.
Re-examined. A correspondence passed between us—the prisoner first suggested about his father doing something—it was in consequence of a communication from my bankers that I put the question to the prisoner on the 23rd as to his position.
By the JURY. I considered that there was one man who might be entitled to be called a creditor, who supplied some nails, bat everything else was for money lent, and discounts without securities.
WILLIAM THOMAS CLEMENTS . I am clerk to the prosecutor—on the 25th October I was present when there was a conversation between Mr. Boyce and the prisoner—I was at a table, writing—Mr. Boyce first asked him if the bill was all right that was due that day—he said "Yes, that is all in order"—he said he had come down about more wood—Mr. Boyce said "Before going into the question of any more wood, I have suffered some very heavy losses lately, and I intend to avoid them in future; therefore, I should like to know something about your position, as I am not at all satisfied about your borrowing money to meet these bills"—he then stated that his position was very good; that he had a lot of money owing on his books; that he was doing a good business; that he. was the owner of two good houses, and this was a little temporary pressure in consequence of his having to provide a sum of money, as he was about taking a public-house, and he might be called upon at any moment to complete the purchase, and also that he had to take up a bill of one of his customers, which had caused him to be rather short at the bank, but he should be all right in a few days; that he was doing a very good business, and getting good prices, and there was no fear at all of Mr. Boyce trusting him—Mr. Boyce then told him that he had better go out on the wharf and select what wood he wanted—on the 18th, after the bill of the 17th had been dishonoured, I went to the prisoner's house by Mr. Boyce's direction—I told him it was a very serious matter for Mr. Boyce his not meeting that bill, and what did he propose to do—he said "I can propose nothing; things have been so bad with me lately that I shall have shortly to call a meeting of creditors"—I asked him what had become of the goods—he said "All worked up and sent out"—I said "Have you no stock at all?"—he said "No, nothing to speak of"—I said "Then you must have a large amount owing on your books?"—he said "Yes, I have, but I don't think it would realise much"—I asked what amount he owed—he said "Altogether about 1,200l."—I said "I suppose Mr. Boyce is the principal creditor?"—he said "Oh no; I owe Mr. Williams about 600l., and about 200l. besides in small debts, amounting altogether, with Mr. Boyce's debt, to about 1,200l."—I asked what Mr. Williams's debt was for?—he said "Money lent"—I said "I suppose he holds security?"—he said "No, he does not; he holds no security; I had none to give him; I should have given him a bill of sale on my furniture, but I owed three quarters' rent, about 40l., therefore the bill of sale would have been of no use"—I then asked what had become of the two houses he spoke of when he was last at the wharf—he said he did not say two, only one, and that was mortgaged to its full value—I then asked what had become of the public-house he was about taking—he said that had been misrepresented to him, and that had fallen through; he would not have anything to do with it—the four frames which he said he had, and those which he bought from Mr. Boyce that day, when they were worked up, would be worth about 400l.
Cross-examined. The 18 frames would have cost very nearly 200l., and the labour very nearly the game amount, and there would be the cartage, and also the manufactured article—I was not staying in the room on the 25th for the purpose of taking a note of his conversation; I was told by Mr. Boyce to listen to it—I was writing and listening—Mr. Boyce and I have talked over the matter generally—we have not alluded to that conversation in particular; that I swear—I made no note of it.
JOHN WORTHAM . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the liquidation of George Andrew, of 119, Latimer Road, lath render—the petition was filed on 31st December, 1880—the total liabilities are 2,077l. 2s., net assets 118l. 6s. 3d., stock-intrade 10l., book debts estimated to produce 84l. 5s. 3d., cash in hand 10l., furniture 50l.
WILLIAM TYLER BARWELL . I am secretary to the Banking and Commercial Permanent Building Society, City Bank Chambers, Threadneedle Street—I produce a mortgage from the defendant to the society of a house, 12, Wilton Road, Hammersmith, on 23rd July, 1880, to secure 300l. and interest, repayable in 12 years by monthly instalments of 3l. 1s. 8d.
DOUGLAS STEWART PRIEST . I am an auctioneer, of Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush—on 14th December, 1880, I made the last of a series of advances to the defendant on this house; I gave him 10l. on that day, making up a sum of 50l.—he gave me a second mortgage on it—I had, prior to that, discounted bills for him—on 1st October he owed me about 160l. on bills then current; they were not his own acceptances.
WILLIAM CHAPMAN WILLIAMS . I am a builder and decorator, and am secretary to the Bayswater and Notting Hill Loan Society, 72, Queen's Road, Notting Hill—the defendant was one of the trustees of that society—on the day he filed his petition he was indebted to the society 963l. 19s., and he was indebted substantially to the same amount on 25th October—it was for money lent and bills discounted which had not been honoured; some portion of it had been owing for some years.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Friday, March 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. MEAD and PURCELL Prosecuted; MESSRS. WARNER SLEIGH and FILLAN Defended.
WILLIAM ROBERT SMITH . I am a clerk, and live at Mona Place, St. Paul's Road, West Smethwick, near Birmingham—on 3rd September I saw an advertisement in the Bazaar and Mart of some canaries for sale—I kept the paper for some time, but I have destroyed it—in consequence of seeing that advertisement I sent 3s. 6d. in stamps to the address given—I received no answer—I sent a letter to No. 17, Dean Street, Fetter Lane, to Henry Harper—on 8th September my wife, by my instructions, sent to that address a postcard, which was afterward returned from the Dead Letter Office—I afterwards observed another
advertisement in the Bazaar and Mart—that newspaper is also destroyed—in consequence of seeing the second advertisement I sent a letter to a certain address, and signed it B. Brown, my servant's name—I received this postcard (Addressed B. Brown, dated 13th September, 1880, offering a pair of good German canaries for 4s.; address, 2, Warren Street, Chapel Street, Islington)—I communicated to the secretary of the Bazaar and Mart—I parted with the 3s. 6d. because I thought the advertisement was a true one, and that I should get the birds.
EMILY PONDOR . I live at 17, Dean Street, Holborn—the prisoner took a room in my house on 27th April last year—she left in the beginning of September in consequence of an ejectment summons—I received a number of letters and parcels for her, and also some birds—I knew her by the name of Smith, and Harper, and one or two other names I do not remember;—I was dangerously ill at the time—the rent was 3s. 6d.; she owed a fortnight.
Cross-examined. I caused her to be ejected because of the tiresome rows, disturbances, and quarrels—I did not quarrel; X was ill in bed, and she disturbed me—I did not eject her before her notice expired—the keys were taken away several days before she left—I had three other lodgers; one's name was Jones—there was no lodger called Smith, but letters came for Smith, and Harper, and people inquired for those names.
Re-examined. She came in the name of Harper—it is not from what my daughter told me but from my own knowledge that I know she went by the name of Harper.
SAMUEL BUSHBY . I live at No. 2, Warren Street, Islington; the prisoner occupied the first and second floor baok—she was there about three weeks, in the name of Davis; she received letters addressed to Davis, Harper, and Jones, a goodish many, and there were some panels.
Cross-examined. It was just before Christmas last year—I have a shop in the back parlour, and a kitchen downstairs—she also had par of a kitchen upstairs—she had nothing to do with me no more than coming to purchase things—I took care of the house for the landlord—two other persons lived there; I cannot remember their names—there was no other Jones on the first floor; there was a Mrs. Brighton, who did mangling—the prisoner had a little girl who took in the letters—I could not say if the letters came to her husband—there was a man, but we could only see him first thing in the morning; I do not know whether he was her husband—I cannot read this certificate (produced)—letters came after they left, which the little girl received—I know they were addressed "Harper," because the postman said "Harper"—I never took any of the letters in—Mrs. Harvey and Mrs. Brighton lived there—I did not live there—I do not know whether I shall get any remuneration—I was told by Inspector Peel that I should have to go to the Old Bailey—I told the postman the circumstances, and to take the letters back again, and they went back to the Dead Letter Office—the little girl came running backwards and forwards, and some of the letters were given to her.
LIZZIE BERRY . I live at 78, Stanley Terrace, Lincoln—in October last I had a black cloth jacket for sale—I answered an advertisement in the Bazaar and Mart—in reply I got this letter enclosing a card (Dated October 20, 1880, asking for the jacket to be sent at once, and promising a post-office order, signed Ellen Wilson, of 21, Sandiland Street, Red Lien Street, established 30 years as a mantle maker and milling)—I replied, and
received this postcard (promising to deposit with Editor for four days and stating that she was well known, signed E. Wilson)—the next day I sent the jacket—I received no post-office order; I thought I should receive the money—I believed the statement in the letter.
Cross-examined. I expected to get the money in return.
Re-examined. The letters and the card led me to expect it.
SARAH PHILLIPS . I am a widow—I occupy the parlour shop at 21, Sandiland Street, Red lion Street, Holborn—I have been there four years—it is a milliner's shop as well as sweets, tobacco, and newspapers—I know the prisoner as Ellen Wilson—she occasionally came into the shop with a little girl—after October she asked me if I would take in a few letters for her, as her landlady was ill and objected to take them in—I agreed to do so—I was to receive 6d. per dozen—I received letters addressed Ellen Wilson, also a case of pigeons by the Great Western Railway—I do not remember anything else—she paid me about 1s. 6d.—she did not carry on the business as a mantle-maker there—I have not known any one carrying on that business there for 20 or 30 years—she never lived there—a few letters came afterwards; I gave them to the policeman—it was about the middle of October—I could not exactly say the time.
Cross-examined. I have taken in letters; only for customers, for the landlord, Mr. Lovell, and Mr. Young, a friend of the landlord—they are customers sometimes—also for people that belong to the house—no letters came in the name of Harper or Jones—I have not seen the prisoner write.
WILLIAM BICE . I am a foreman porter in the employ of the Great Northern Railway Company—I produce my delivery book—on 11th October last I delivered a parcel from Lincoln addressed to Miss Ellen Wilson, 21, Sandiland Street, Red Lion Street, Holborn—the prisoner came for it and signed her name in this book.
WALTER GEORGE TAYLOR . I am a farm labourer of Woodhurst, Sussex—in November last I put an advertisement in the Exchange and Mart—I received this letter from Francis Jones, 14, Oswald Court, Clerkenwell. (Asking for 12 canaries to be sent at once, and promising post-office order for 36s. and references if required.) I sent my canaries to that address—the value of the birds was 3s. each, and the cage 1s. 6d.—I never received any post-office order—I saw two of my birds at the police-station—I instructed Mr. Durrant to write to heir—he lives near me—I sent the birds because I wanted to sell them—I saw the letter the prisoner sent me before I sent them.
JOHN THOMAS DURRANT . I am an agent, and live at Walsh Farm, Ticehurst, Sussex—Walter George Taylor is employed on the estate—he came to me after he had sent some birds—at his request I wrote a letter—it was returned through the Dead Letter Office.
IGENUS BYE . I formerly lived at 14, Owen's Court, Goswell Boad—the prisoner took a room at my house on 6th October—she paid 4s. a week—she left about 17th or 18th December—she received letters addressed Jones, also some rabbits and birds alive.
Cross-examined. I believe her husband lived with her (looking at a certificate), I have no reason to doubt it—I believe they dealt in birds and the husband went out with a barrow—they lived there together—he seldom went out at all—I have seen him go out on a Saturday—I
cannot say he did not go out every day, because I went out of a morning myself and did not return till night, but I do not believe he did go out every day—he had a little daughter—he always paid his rent.
Re-examined. He had not been established 19 years as a dealer in all kinds of birds, but only three months—he did not deal in mantles, nor was he an optician.
WILLIAM HEWITT . I live at Bridge Street, Andover—in December last I had nearly a new set of fancy harness for sale for 3l.; also a pony—I advertised in the Bazaar and Mart—in answer to that advertisement I received this letter. (With a printed heading. Established 19 years. A dealer in new and secondhand microscopes, 254, Waterloo Road, Lambeth, and dated 15th December 1880, and promising to send a post-office order.) I wrote a letter asking if a carriage jack would be of any use—I received a telegram to say it would not—I received this letter. (Asking to send the harness by passenger train.) I sent the harness—I never got the money for it—on 21st December I wrote again to the same address—the letter was returned from the Dead Letter Office—I sent the harness because I received the letter.
Cross-examined. I believed the letter to be genuine, and that the business had been established 19 years.
MARIAN PARNELL . I live at 254, Waterloo Road—on 13th December the prisoner took a room at my house at 6s. 6d. a week, in the name of Smith—a man lived with her as her husband—they stayed a week and left on the 20th without our knowledge—she received a great quantity of letters, also parcels and live birds—there was no microscopic business, photographic apparatuses, or anything of that kind; it is not true that such a business has been carried on there for 19 years.
Cross-examined. There was no little child there—she said her husband was an agent for a London fire insurance company, not a bird fancier, or I should not have received them as lodgers—they went one Monday morning before 10 o'clock.
WILLIAM RUSHBY . I live at 83, East Gate, Louth, Lincolnshire—I am a dealer in sewing machines—in consequence of what I said to Mr. Howsom an advertisement was put in the Exchange and Mart—we had a Howe sewing machine for sale for 35s.—after the advertisement appeared Mr. Howsom handed me this letter. (From Madame Hare and Son. Wardrobes, &c., purchased. Established in 1878. Dated January 10th, 1871, and asking for machine to be sent.) I had sold it but had another for sale for 37s.—I wrote to the address given, and in reply received this letter. (January 12th, from Madame Hare, for machine to be sent by passenger train, and the would send 37s. on its receipt, and pay the carriage.) This is the Howe machine I sent—as I did not receive the money I wrote another letter; it was returned from the Dead Letter Office—I sent the machine because I expected to receive the 37s., and I believed the letter and printed heading.
Cross-examined. It was not sent on sale or return.
MARY ANN SAUNDERS . I live at 128, Hoxton Street—the prisoner took a room at my house the beginning of January, at 3s. a week, in the name of Madame Hare—a little girl lived with her, but no man; she was there about a week—she received many letters and parcels; this machine was one; also a case of bullfinches.
Cross-examined. She did not live there, she only took a workroom—if
a man had come to see her I must have seen him; there was one entrance—ours is a wholesale confectioner's business; all are men who are employed there.
EDWARD TALLIN (Policeman G). On Saturday morning, the 15th January, acting under Inspector Peel, I watched the prisoner—I saw her walking in Pitfield Street, Hoxton, with a box, which contained a sewing machine and a roll of cloth; I stopped her—I said "What have you got there?"—she said "A sewing machine"—I said "Where did you get it from?"—she said "Somewhere in the country, I don't know whereabouts"—I said "Where did you get the cloth from?"—she said "In the country, I don't know whereabouts," and that it belonged to a woman at Peckham named Emma Jones—I said "I shall take you into custody for not giving a satisfactory account of the machine and cloth"—she was charged at the police-station with being in unlawful possession of it—she said she had got it from the country for a woman at Peckham—I searched the premises at 10, Wood Street, Hall Street, St. Luke's, where Mr. Edie lives—I found a number of cages, pictures, and other articles—I showed two birds to the witness Taylor, and he said they were his.
JAMES EDIE . I live at 10, Wood Street, Old Street—the prisoner took a room at my house on 21st December, and came on the Thursday after Christmas at a rent of 4s. 6d. a week, as Mrs. Davis—she was there about three weeks, when she was apprehended—a quantity of letters came—a parcel came after she was apprehended, and I objected to take it in—a parcel of birds also came from the country afterwards—I showed the constable the room.
Cross-examined. I saw a man come once—I never told her he was not her husband—he said he was Mr. Davis—I said I was glad to see Mr. Davis, I had not seen him before—he told me he had been to the police-station, and he wanted her things—I said I would not give them up, and he threatened me with a knife, and I was going to give him into custody—I kept the things to be given up on payment of rent—I would not swear he did not come in every evening while she was there—he never tendered the rent.
ELIZA MCCARTHY . I am a warder in the House of Detention, Clerkenwell—the prisoner is in my custody—I supplied her with this paper to write a letter; I know it by my initials; I left her alone to write it—I believe this is her writing; it is not any other officer's writing that I know.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court I could not swear who received the letter from her; it might have been another warder, or I might have received it—I did not receive it from another prisoner.
WILLIAM PEEL . I am the inspector having charge of this case—the letters produced are some that I have received from various persons, signed "Jones," "Davis," and "Harper"—I have been an inspector of police eight years—I have had many cases in my charge where it is necessary to compare handwriting—some were "Long firm" cases.
By MR. FILLAN. I cannot remember the individual cases—the writing has gone to the Jury in those cases—I was not called as an expert—it is an everyday occurrence to examine handwriting, to assist my judgment as an inspector—I did not know I was called as an expert to-day—I have heard of Mr. Chabot and Mr. Netherclift.
MR. FILLAN submitted that the witness was not an expert, and therefore was not competent to give evidence on a comparison of handwriting, and cited Reg. v, Harvey in 11 Cox to show that a policeman was not an expert. The COMMON SERJEANT admitted the evidence.
WILLIAM PEEL (Continued), The postcard addressed to B. Brown and received by Mr. Smith, the signature of "E. Wilson" in Rice's book, the letter written to Miss Berry in reference to the jacket, the letter to Taylor as to the canaries, to William Hewitt as to the harness, and the two letters sent to Rushby as to the sewing-machine, are in my opinion in the same handwriting as the letter produced by the warder—those letters generally ask for goods to be sent to Tarious addresses—they are written in the names of "Madame Hare and Son," "Jones," "Davis," "Wilson," and "Smith"—I have received altogether about 40 such letters.
Cross-examined. I have not given similar evidence in Courts of Justice before—I do not consider an expert an elevation for a police inspector—I give my evidence as to this writing with great confidence, but not as an expert, or any such professor.
MR. FILLAN submitted there toot nothing to show that the prisoner did not receive these letters in her husband's presence, or that her husband did not receive them and give them to her. The case was left to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
CHARLES CARTWRIGHT . I am the landlord of the Queen's Anns, Portland Street, Walworth—on 29th January I served Finn with an ounce of tobacco—he tendered me this bad florin—I gave it to a police-constable—I gave Finn 1s. 6d. change, and put my hand into my pocket as if to get the other 4d.; then I put my hand across the counter, took hold of him by the coat, and shook the 1s. 6d. and the tobacco in his right hand on to the counter—I then gave him into custody—he was taken to the police-court, remanded, and subsequently discharged.
Cross-examined by Finn. You said you got it for a day's work at Billingsgate Market.
ANN MURREN . I am the wife of the proprietor of the Prince Albert public-house, George Street, Greenwich—I was attending the bar at 2.30 p.m. on 16th February; I served White with twopennyworth of gin—she tendered this bad half-crown—I bit it, and returned it to her, and said it was bad—another prisoner named Hall came in, and snatched the half-crown out of my hand—White rushed out—a person who was standing there rushed round the private bar, and stopped her—Hall was detained—I gave the half-crown to the policeman.
Hall and Finn about 2.30 p.m.—White went into the public-house, Finn and Hall stood on the opposite side of the way.
STEPHEN SHEATH (Policeman 2 RR). I saw Finn a little before 2 o'clock at the corner of Egerton Road and Blackheath Road with Hall—he passed something in paper to Hall—I was in uniform—two hours afterwards I discovered Hall was in custody, and I went to the station at Blackheath Eoad—I gave a description of Finn, which was circulated in the usual way, and in consequence two police constables went to the house where Finn and White were found.
GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant M). About 7.30 a.m. on 18th February I went with three officers, Pickles, Martin, and Bowles, to a lodging-house called the Blue House in Tabard Street, Southwark—Martin and I went upstairs into the second-floor back room; Finn and White were in bed together—I said "You will have to go with us for having been conerned with Army Bill," that is Hall, "in passing bad money at Greenwich"—he said "All right"—I searched Finn's clothes, and then gave them to him to put on—the clothes were on the bed—he put his coat on, then leant over the bed, and lifted up the mattress on the side White was lying, and took a scarf and a piece of paper—I said "What have you got there?"—he said "My money"—I said "Give it to me"—he said "No, it is only my money"—I, Martin, and Bowles seized his hand, and took it out of his hand; there were eight shillings and a sixpence, five of them were wrapped up singly in this piece of paper—I said "There are eight shillings; they appear to be counterfeit"—he said "Are they? I did not know that"—I put them to my teeth, and on further examining them I found five were bad, and 3s. 6d. was good money—we then handcuffed him, and sent him to the station with Bowles and Martin—White began crying, and I sent her off to the station with Piokles—I further searched the room, but found nothing; these are the shillings (produced)—I went to the house in consequence of a telegram I received from the R Division.
Cross-examined by Finn. This is not a got-up case—I did not keep the coins myself—a sergeant of the M Division has not been convicted for false swearing—he has been promoted from a second to a first-class sergeant.
GEORGE MARTIN (Policeman M 300). I went to this house with Harvey, Bowles, and Pickles—I have heard the evidence of the last witness; it is perfectly carrect—I saw Finn pull the scarf from under the bed on the side White was lying—Harvey asked what he had there—he said "My money"—Harvey said "Give it to me"—he refused—Harvey seized his hand; he still refused to give it up, and I and Bowles assisted Harvey to take it from his hand; in the struggle the skin was taken off my fingers—Finn was then handcuffed; it is a bad neighbourhood—Finn said "The woman knows nothing about this; she only came to sleep with me last night"—after he got to the station witnesses were called to identify White—when White was away Finn said "Where is the woman?"—I said "Don't fear, you won't lose her"—he said "I don't want her to get me into this b scrape; I lay now if the woman likes to speak the truth she knows where they came from."
THOMAS PICKLES (Police Sergeant M). I went with the three officers; they went upstairs, and I stopped downstairs in the passage—I took White to the station; I said "You will be taken to the station for being
concerned with Army Bill in uttering counterfeit coin at Greenwich"—she said "I know nothing of Army Bill or Greenwich; the money found in the bed I know nothing whatever of, as I only went home to sleep with the man last night"—I did not then know of any money being found in the bed; she was afterwards identified—she said "If the money was bad I got change for half a sovereign, and the bad must have been in the change."
FREDERICK BOWLES (Policeman M 244). I went with the other officers to this lodging-house—I have heard the evidence of those who were in the room; it is perfectly correct—I assisted to wrest the money from Finn's hand.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coins to Her Majesty's Mint—these five shillings, this florin, and this half-crown are bad; they are of different moulds—the object of wrapping coins up in paper is to keep them from rubbing; they are dark when in the paper, but are taken out and rubbed to brighten them.
White's Defence. I had to leave my man because he ill-used me, and I have been with this man about a week. I did not know the shillings were bad."
Finn in defence called—
Finn. Yes, I have just changed, because I thought he would get a longer sentence.
FINN*— GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
WHITE— NOT GUILTY .
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
ADA SHALLES . I assist my father at the Swan public-house at Greenwich—on the 16th February, in the afternoon, about 3.30, I served White with twopennyworth of gin; she tendered this half-crown—I showed it to my aunt—I afterwards gave White 2s. 4d. change, and put it in the till; no other half-crown was there—I went upstairs; when I came down 10 minutes afterwards my aunt showed me the half-crown—I did not speak to the prisoner.
CAROLINE SMITH . I am aunt of the last witness—I was in the bar when the prisoner came in; I found the half-crown in the till; it was between 3 and 3.30—I examined it; no other half-crown was in the till—my niece had previously shown it to me—I bit it.
JAMES DOWERS . I am the manager of the Guildford Arms, Guildford Road, Greenwich—on 16th February, about 2.30, I served White with twopennyworth of gin; she tendered this half-crown—I picked it up, and said "This looks a fanny half-crown"—she said "That is all right"—I said to a little girl "Take this down to father, and ask him whether it is a good one"—father was in the cellar; she brought it back, and gave it to White—I asked her if she knew where she got it from—she said "I think I do," and went away—Hall came in after the woman was gone—my
father tested it—I have no doubt White is the person—I pointed her out from half a dozen others at the police-court.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You went out too quick for me to ask you about it.
(The evidence of Ann Murren and Emily Nolan in the previous ease was repeated.)
THOMAS O'LEARY . I am an inquiry agent, and lire at Kennington—I heard what Mrs. Murren said about the half-crown—I saw Hall take the penny from her hand quickly—I saw him outside looking In—I got the half-crown from Hall as quickly as possible—a man came round, and said "Take charge of him while I go out, and take care he does not drop anything."
WILLIAM NUNN . I live at No. 1, King George Street, Greenwich—I am a cab proprietor—on the afternoon of 16th February I was in the Prince Albert public-house—Mrs. Murren served the prisoner; I heard her say "This is a bad half-crown"—I went round to where the prisoner was; I saw her go out—I have heard Mrs. Murren's evidence; it is correct—I went within a minute of that time to look for the woman, but I could not find her; Bowles minded the door, and another constable came up.
CORNELIUS DOWERS (Recalled). When I bit this coin the sound seemed to go to my temples—I made such an impression on it that it would be useless to tender it again, and I broke the rim by twisting it in my mouth.
The prisoner repeated her previous defence, and added "I have been made we of."
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy on the ground that the was under the influence of the men. — One Month's Imprisonment.
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH CORBET . I am the wife of George Corbet, a shoemaker, of 69, Church Street, Woolwich—on the 12th February, about 9.30, I sold the prisoner some boots—he asked me to send them to 16, Orchard Street—I told him I had no one in, and could not send them till past 10 o'clock—he went out and came back in a few minutes—he said he would take the boots, and I put them in a piece of paper—he put on the counter this coin and two threepenny pieces—he took the boots away—the coin looked bad, and I sent my little girl to the Golden Cross public-house with it—Mr. Roffey came back with her—after some conversation I went to 16, Orchard Street; the prisoner was not there—I afterwards found him in Parry Street—I went across and took hold of him—James Hall, a postman, who lodges in my house, crossed and took hold of him—he twisted himself away from us—Hall took hold of him again, and took him to the station—the prisoner said "I want to square it"—Hall said when near the station "Never mind, my boy, we will square that inside"—a constable came up, and he was taken into custody—he still
had the boots wrapped up in a piece of brown paper, just as I had given them to him—I had not tied them—I gave the coin to the constable—Parry Street is about 10 minutes' walk from my house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not mention about squaring it at the police-court; another witness did.
JAMES HALL . I am a postman, and live at 59, Church Street, the house of the last witness—on Saturday, the 12th February last, I was in Powis Street, "Woolwich—Mrs. Corbet spoke to me—I saw the prisoner loon after—in consequence of what she said I took hold of him by his arm—he broke from me, and tried to run away—a fellow postman helped me, and we took him to the police-station—Mrs. Corbet was the first to take hold of him, but he got away from her—near the station he said "What am I in your debt? will you square it?"—I said "Never mind about squaring it, old boy, you will go inside now"—Constable Rose came up and took him—my mate's name is Harvey—he was not examined at the police-court.
SAMUEL ROSE (Policeman R 176). I met the prisoner in company with Mr. and Mrs. Corbet and Hall—Mr. Corbet said "I wish to give this man into custody for uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign at my shop about half an hour ago"—I took him to the station and searched him—I found a florin, 3s., and 2d. bronze good money upon him—he asked for mercy on account of his family—Mr. Corbet said "You did not care anything about mine; what did you run away for?"—the prisoner said "I knew it was bad"—I took him directly to the police-station.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not mention at the police-court the first time that you said "I know it was bad"—I forgot it; I said it on the remand—I remember an altercation about your handkerchief in consequence of part of it being cut out—I do not remember what the inspector said in giving it to you.
GEORGE CORBERT . I keep this shoemaker's shop—I met my wife, Hall, the prisoner, and another man in Powis Street on the 12th February—I went with them to the police-station—I asked the prisoner "What have you to say about passing this half-sovereign?"—he would not answer me—when we met a policeman I gave him in charge—he said "I hope you will think of my wife and family and let me go; I know it was a bad one"—he also said "I will give you five or six shillings to pay you for the trouble you have been put to"—I said "No, I shall charge you with wilfully having in your possession counterfeit coin," and I charged him.
ELLEN CORBERT . My mother, who has been examined, gave me half a sovereign on the 12th February—I took it to the Golden Cross public-house, which is near 59, Church Street—I showed it to Miss Moore, the daughter of the landlady; she showed it to Mr. Roffey, and I went back with him to my mother, and I gave the half-sovereign to her.
JAMES ROFFEY . I am a baker of 48, Church Street, Woolwich—I was in the Golden Cross public-house on 12th February—I saw the last witness show the half-sovereign to Miss Moore—she showed it to me; I examined it, and handed it to the little girl, and then followed her to her house.
The prisoner in a written defence stated that he received 35 s. at Woolwich, and received half a sovereign in exchange for a sovereign.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
EMILY MILLS . I am barmaid at the Star and Garter—on 1st February I served the prisoner with a glass of ale, which he paid for with good money—I afterwards served him with a twopenny cigar; he gave me a florin, and I gave him 1s. 10d. change—he went away—I put the florin in the till; no other florin was there—he came again on 9th February—I served him with a glass of ale, which he paid for with good coppers—I served him with another glass; he tendered a florin; I found it was bad—I told him it was bad—he looked at it and said "So it is"—he gave me a good one; I gave him the bad one back—I spoke to George Munden, the potman—the prisoner stayed a few minutes, then went out—the potman went out; the prisoner was brought back in the custody of a policeman—I am sure he is the same man—these are the coins (produced).
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I took particular notice of you the first time you came—you called me back and said that I had given yon a penny short in change.
MARY MEERIMAN . I live at 16, Francis Street, Plumstead Common, and am the wife of James Merriman, a labourer—on the afternoon of 1st February I was at the Star and Garter, Powis Street, Woolwich; I saw the prisoner there—he called for a glass of ale, and paid for it with coppers—he afterwards called for a cigar—I picked him out from others on 17th February at the police-station.
GEORGE MUNDEN . I am potman at the Star and Garter—Miss Mills showed me a counterfleit florin on the 9th—I followed the prisoner in consequence of what she said—I spoke to a police-constable—the prisoner was brought back.
THOMAS HENRY HOBSON . I am landlord of the Star and Garter—on 1st February I was clearing the till about 5 p.m.; I found this bad florin; it was the only florin in the till—I showed it to Miss Mills—I saw the prisoner given into custody on the 9th.
EDGAR BARNES (Policeman R 11). About 4.45 on 9th February the prisoner was given into my custody—I said "You are wanted back in a public-house for passing a bad coin;" he said "I did not know it was bad till the girl told me"—I was about to search him when he produced this florin from his trousers pocket, and 1s. 10 1/2 d. good money—I searched him, but found no other money.
WILLIAM READER (Police Sergeant E). On 22nd August last I watched the prisoner in Seven Dials—I afterwards apprehended him in King Edward Street; I said "I suspect you of having counterfeit coin in your possession;" he said "I have nothing"—I put my hand into his left coat pocket, and took out a packet containing eight counterfeit florins; they were wrapped up separately in a piece of newspaper—I took him to Kennington Road Station—I found a counterfeit half-crown in his trousers pocket and 4 1/2 d. in coppers, also a certificate of discharge from the Army Hospital Corps and a private character from his commanding officer, dated 10th April, 1879—on 13th September last I again found the prisoner in Seven Dials with another man who has been convicted—I found a counterfeit half-crown on the prisoner; it was put in the store with others, but was not marked—the prisoner was discharged by Mr. Marsden—he did not give me his address.
The prisoner, in defence, handed in a written statement to the effect that he was not near Woolwich on the 1st, and on the 9th he had no intention to defraud, that he had never been convicted, and bore a good character.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. FILLAN Prosecuted.
SAMUEL EDWARDS . I live at the Northumberland beerhouse, Regent Street, Deptford—on 7th February, about 7.30 p.m., I was called by my wife to the prisoner; she was using very violent language—I persuaded her to go out for about 20 minutes—I then put her out—in about two minutes she returned; she took an ale glass and broke it on the counter, and struck me on the top of my head with a piece; the blow severed the arteries of my head—she took two more glasses, and threw them at me—she then took a glass biscuit holder, and threw the main piece at me—the then took hold of my Cardigan jacket, and hit me with the lid on the top of my bald head; she broke the glass; the blood came from my head so that I could not see—she ran out of the house—I heard her words, "I have done it for you"—I became insensible—I never saw the woman before; I had not insulted her—my wife died of fright on the Friday following.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not use the expression written on this paper (produced), nor anything of the kind—I did not harbour you; I do not keep brothels—I know nothing of your blind baby.
WALTER WICKHAM . I live at 120, High Street, Deptford—I am a surgeon—I was called about 6.45 p.m. on 7th February to see Mr. Edwards; I found him lying on the sofa, bleeding profusely from the head and face—on examining him I found two major wounds; the temple artery was severed on the left side—there were also numerous small wounds; they were dangerous in their effects, but not in themselves; they may bring on erysipelas—he is improving, but not out of danger—I attended his wife; she died of apoplexy—the immediate cause of death was excitement.
THOMAS PEEL (Policeman R R 9). On 7th February, about 7.30 p.m., I went in search of the prisoner with another constable—I found her at about 9.30 p.m. at her father's house—I told her the charge; she said "Strike me dead and blind I never did it"—I said "I shall have to take you on the charge to the station;" she rushed to the table, got a knife, and said she would run it through my heart—her father took the knife from her—then she got a jug, and was about to throw it; I caught hold of her arm and overpowered her, and kept her on the sofa for some time—she said if I let her go she would be quiet; I let her go, and stood by her till I got assistance, and took her to the station—at the station she said "You have got the wrong woman"—I did not know her.
strike him with some glasses and a biscuit cover—I ran across, and tried to stay the blood till the doctor came.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not intend to do any harm at all. I was insulted very much, and a shocking expression was used.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
323. BARTHOLOMEW DONOVAN (31), JOHN CLARK(31), WILLIAM CRANE , and BENJAMIN WOOD (57) , Stealing six sacks of oats, the goods of Albert Keen and another, their masters, and Benjamin Wood also receiving the same, well knowing them to have been stolen.
MR. LILLEY defended Clark; MR. FRITH defended Crane, and
MR. PURCELL defended Wood.
FREDERICK FORTH (Policeman R). On Tuesday 1st February, from information I received, I communicated with Detectives Francis and Craggs, and went with them to the Greenwich Marshes—we kept observation on Bethel's Wharf—we got there about 9 p.m., and remained until about 1.30 the next morning—there was a barge lying there at the time we arrived, about 50 yards below the wharf on the same side, anchored, I believe—about 1.30 we saw the barge row towards Bethel's Wharf; it came alongside, and I saw Donovan and Clark land six sacks of oats and push them down to the wharf, then they rowed towards London Bridge—I procured the assistance of two officers and went on a barge, and overtook them at Deptford—I told them I should take them into custody for stealing six sacks of oats—Donovan replied "I have lost eight sacks"—pointing to the corner at the head of the barge he said "There are three gone from here, and no doubt there are three gone from there; I have worked for Mr. Keen eight years, and this is the first time"—we took them to Park Bow Station—Clark made no statement at that time—the barge was left at anchor, in charge of a Thames officer—afterwards, when I was in the station, Wood was brought in—he said "I should know the two men I had the dealing with"—pointing to Clark, he said "That is one; I had about half an hour's conversation with him"—pointing to Donovan, he said "I think that is the other, but I am not so sure"—on the following day I went with the other officers and searched the house where Wood lived, where I found two more sacks of oats corresponding with the others—the name on the sack was, "Thomas Gillett, Faversham Mills"—there was also a quantity of rice, and two bushels of wheat, and some flour in the yard.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. We were concealed where the men could not see us—there was another barge lying alongside of the wharf—I cannot say whether the men crossed the empty barge to get to the wharf—at times it was foggy, but it cleared off occasionally.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. There, was no light there of any sort, not even a bull's-eye—I was two or three yards from Donovan and Clark when they came on the wharf—I was concealed under a crane standing in the wharf.
JOHN CRAGGS (Detective R). I was with Forth concealed under the crane on the night in question—about 1.30 a.m. I saw a barge come alongside, and Clark and Donovan put six sacks of oats on shore—afterwards Donovan assisted Clark to put them on his back, and he carried them on to a trolley, and dark sent it down to Bethel's Wharf.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I was some distance from the edge of the wharf; I was not near enough to see if they came across the empty barge—I saw a man, about a quarter of an hour afterwards, come by—he did not come from the barge; there is a thoroughfare there—I saw Wood, Clark, and Crane with a sack of oats on their backs—they put them down on a sort of ledge; they left three sacks on the trolley—when we got to them we told them we should take them into custody for stealing the oats, and Wood for receiving them—Wood said "I must put up with it"—Crane made no reply—we found three sacks still on the trolley—the sacks were marked "Gillett, Faversham."
Cross-examined by Mr. LILLEY. I know Clark by sight—I was about six feet off when I was watching them behind a wooden erection; I looked round the corner.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I know nothing of Crane; I have been informed that he is a respectable man—he was admitted by the Magistrate to bail in one security of 20l.—he was not running at the time I saw him.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Francis and I watched the trolley after the barge had gone away—at about 6.45 I went to where the trolley was, where we saw two men' who have been discharged—I am certain I saw the men receive the oats from the trolley—I saw two men come on the wharf and place their backs to the trolley and push it 20 yards farther into the wharf; they then took hold of one of the sacks and raised it—I took them into custody—one of them told me he did not know what it was—I returned half an hour afterwards and saw Wood and Crane there.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I went on the night in question to the wharf at East Greenwich, a little after 9, where I saw a barge lying at the wharf about 100 yards below—I and the other officers kept observation on the barge until 1 a.m.—I saw two men come up presently from the cabin; they hoisted the anchor, and rowed the barge alongside of Bethel's Wharf—when they got close to us we could see they were Donovan and Clark—dark went on to the wharf and made the barge fast, and Donovan placed six sacks, which afterwards turned out to be oats, on the wharf—when they got on to the wharf Donovan assisted Clark with the sacks on his back, one by one, and he went and placed them on the trolley—after they had placed the six on the trolley they moved the trolley into the wharf, and it ran down the incline into the wharf about 150 yards—at about 7.15 I saw Crane and Wood come on the wharf; they each took a sack from off the trolley and carried it into the shed some distance farther in the wharf—in company with Craggs I followed them up and met them as they were coming out of the shed—I asked Wood what his name was—he said "Wood"—I said "We are two police officers, and want to see these oats that you have been taking in there"—Wood said "I thought so"—I saw three sacks standing out side the shed—I told Wood I should take him into custody for feloniously receiving the oats, well knowing them to have been stolen—he
said "I must put up with it; it is a bad job"—he called "Charley!"—I told him it was no use calling, as we had got the lighterman in custody—we took Wood and Crane to the police-station—Wood said "I wish I had not bought them, but they kept bothering me so to buy them; if you make it as light as you can for me you can have 2l. or 3l., and your mate can have 1l. or 2l.; I have not paid for them, but have agreed to give 2l. for them"—I asked him if he knew the men of whom he bought them—he said "Not by name but by sight; one is a tall, big man, and the other a shorter man"—he said he had been talking to them about half an hour—he said "I do not know what I wanted to buy oats at all for; I can always get plenty of sweepings"—I and the other officer were in plain clothes—I should think it took Donovan and Clark about 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour to bring the oats ashore off the barge to the trolley.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I was within three or four yards of the edge of the wharf—the barge laid off in the Thames, and there was another between it and the wharf—I was concealed under some timbers in a lying position.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I ascertained that Wood has worked for a number of years at that wharf.
Re-examined. There were no oats in the other barge.
ALBERT KEEN . I am in partnership with Percy Keen as wharfingers in Horselydown—Donovan and Clark were in my employ—we have a customer of the name of Gillett, of Faversham—on the 24th January we had an order to deliver 1,000 quarters of oats to Bethel's Wharf, and I instructed Donovan to load the barge and to take them to the wharf, assisted by Clark—most of the sacks had on them "Thomas Gillett, Faversham Mills"—they were to wait for the tide—Bethel's Wharf is at East Greenwich—I have seen the six sacks of oats, the subject of this charge, and have compared them with the samples that have been worked, and they are the same oats—when barges take a large order it is usual to take more sacks—1,000 sacks would be a portion of the cargo—Donovan and Clark had no business to stop at Bethel's Wharf—I did not know Wood—they were Russian oats—we do not allow lightermen any sweepings.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Donovan was a lighterman, and had been with me eight years—I believe he has been honest, although very indifferent in attending to his work very often—on this occasion he ought to have remained on the barge, and Clark ought to have come back by rail or boat—they often have an excess of sacks on a barge—as a fact we had in the barge four sacks over and above what ought to be there—it would be the duty of the officers of the Dock Company to weigh the sacks on the barge and to tally them.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Donovan was in charge of the barge; he had instructions to load the barge—Clark was what we called "second hand," to assist the other man—the delivery order was given to Donovan.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. They were not sweepings—there are such things as sweepings, but they are not allowed to sell them as far as I know—I have samples in my pocket now—Donovan and Clark are licensed by the Watermen's Company.
GEORGE NASH . I am a weigher in the employ of the Millwall Docks Company, and I delivered the oats to the barge Acme—I kept account of the sacks and saw them put on board—the greater part of them were
marked "Lee and Co."I believe, and the others "Gillett"—the foreman of the dock delivered the delivery order to me.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I did not receive the delivery order.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I cannot say whether lightermen are allowed to sell sweepings.
CHARLES BETHEL . I am the son of the owner of Bethel's Wharf, East Greenwich, where the business of timber preserving is carried on—Wood is our foreman, and Crane is occasionally employed there—the six sacks of oats were not delivered on our account.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have known Crane for 14 or 15 years, during which time we have employed him off and on—I do not know of his being employed by the Postal Telegraph Company—when he has been working at the wharf he has been under the orders of Wood—Wood would have the engaging of the men.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Wood has been in our employ over 20 years, during which time he has borne a good character.
DONVAN— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
CLARK and CRANE— NOT GUILTY
WOOD— GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. HEWICK Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HENRY GIBBONS . I live at Deptford, and am a dyer—the prisoner had been in my service, and on Saturday, 15th January, he came to me to give him work, which I did, to take parcels home—I gave him about ten, including one to Mrs. Bedford, Mrs. Millard, and Mrs. Horton, amounting to about 2l. 3s. 4d. in all; he was to be back in about an hour and a half—I told him I should come from Forest Hill by that time, and he was to meet me—he was to have 6d. an hour—I received the money for a parcel that he took to Peckham, and then I gave him other parcels and bills to collect—he has never attended me since with the money—I charged him on Monday, 17th January—he was in my employ seven or eight weeks before.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I cannot say how much you returned to me—I have not had 2s. 6d. from a lady for dyeing her pelisse—I have known you about 15 years—you have only been in my service 13 hours altogether—when I came to yon on Monday, the 17th, I asked you for the money.
By the COURT. On Monday, the 17th, I took the detectives with me, and knocked at the prisoner's door—I said "Mr. Wyborn, how is it you did not bring me back that money on Saturday night?" he stood and did not answer; the detectives were in the house then, it being a house that anybody could have access to—it was a house he was keeping possession of from which they could not eject him—the detectives came and took him in the passage, and said "Where is this money? Why could not you return the money to Mr. Gibbons?"—he said "I have got it upstairs"—he was very obstreperous, and resisted a great deal—his wife acknowledged in his presence that the money was not upstairs—he said "Let me go upstairs, and they said "No, we do not intend to let you go," and he was then taken to the station.
By the Prisoner. There was 3d. found on you when you were searched—I had given you a character, I am sorry to say, to a gentleman—you did not disgrace yourself with him.
Re-examined. I heard the detectives offer to accompany him upstairs, and he did not go.
By the COURT. I did not bring the receipt with me—I saw him receipt the bill—it was for dyeing some things.
The Jury here stopped the case, and returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. RAVEN
HENRY SLYFIELD . I live at 169, Union Street, Borough, and am a since worker—the prisoner lived in the same house with a woman named sarah Ross; it is a lodging-house—there are three rooms for lodgers on the ground floor; they occupied the middle one—there is a kitchen common to all—about 9 o'clock on Saturday night, the 12th February, the deceased came into the kitchen; she was intoxicated—the prisoner was there; he had finished his tea—when she came in they might have had a word, I can't say what it was, and then he flew at her, and smacked her face twice, and gave her a sudden push, and she struck her head against the form—he picked her up, and pushed her outside the door; he remained in the kitchen—I did not see what became of her then—I next heard her in the w.c. half an hour after, as if she was in pain; she was moaning—about a quarter to 11 I saw her going into her bedroom; Mills, the night watchman, was letting her in—at a quarter to 1 I saw the prisoner going to his bedroom; the same room was occupied by him and the deceased—he was in the room about 10 minutes altogether before I saw him again—he came into the kitchen, and said "She is gone;" there were several others there in the passage and in the kitchen—some man said "Who?" and he said "The old woman"—a constable and a doctor were fetched, and then, the woman being dead, he was given into custody.
Cross-examined. When the first occurrence about 9 o'clock happened there were several persons in the kitchen; it is a small room; there must have been about 40 there—the prisoner was there when the woman came in; she was intoxicated—he might have said a word to her, but I did not overhear it—he did say "You have come back," and he smacked her face with his open hand and pushed her; she fell against a form, and
struck her forehead—I don't suppose I was three yards from him at the time—nobody tried to prevent him—it was about a quarter to 11 when she went to bed—I sleep in a different part of the house—there was no clock in the house, I only guessed the time—I said before the Magistrate that he was in his room about seven minutes before he came back into the kitchen; it might have been three or four minutes—he was in the kitchen all the time, from the time he pushed her out, to the time he went to bed.
JOHN HAYES . I was living at 169, Union Street on Saturday, 12th February—I was in the kitchen when the row commenced—I saw Sarah Boss come in; the prisoner had just gone out; she was saying that she could not. have a cup of tea without the men going to tell her old man about it, and just as she said that the prisoner walked in, walked over to her, and hit her in the face with his hand, and said "I will make you take notice of me"—she fell on the floor; he picked her up, and gave her a shove towards the door, and her forehead came against the corner of the form; she went down on her face; he picked her up and shoved her outside, and she went staggering to her room—he still stopped in the kitchen; he did not go out at all till half-past 11—I did not see her any more after she went towards her room; that was something about 9 o'clock—the prisoner stopped in the kitchen till 10 minutes to 12—he went out about half-past 11 to have a drink along with one of the men at a public-house opposite; he was not gone above 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour—at 10 minutes to 12 I went to bed, leaving him in the kitchen; he was sober, the woman was the worse for drink—she was in the habit of drinking along with other men, to my knowledge—I did not know she was dead until the next morning.
Cross-examined. There were from 80 to 40 men in the kitchen that evening—no one tried to stop him when he struck her—one man walked up and said "Tom, don't do it"—sometimes if you interfere between man and wife you most likely get the worst of it yourself—that was why I did not intefere—he hit her two or three times in the face with his open hand, and she fell and struck her head against the form.
ELIZABETH HAMMOND . I live at 15, Little Ghildford Street—about 9 o'clock on Saturday, 12th February, I was passing 169, Union Street—I saw the prisoner and deceased at the door, and saw him knock her down with his fist, and kick her behind—I said "Oh, Tom, don't"—the deceased said to me "Lizzie, did I not give your mother a purse?"—I said "Yes, Sarah"—she said "When did I give it to her?"—I said "The day before yesterday"—she said "Did I not give it to her to-day?"—I said "Yes"—the prisoner said "You go away with your stories," and he made a kick at me and went in the house.
Cross-examined. It was in the passage that he struck her—I was standing against the street door—he hit her in the face with his fist shut—I knew the deceased before, by living with my mother.
JOHN SLATTER . I am a leather dresser, and lodge at 169, Union Street—the prisoner lodged there something like two months before this ocourrence—the deceased had been living with him for about a fortnight—they had a bedroom on the ground floor on the right-hand side—on Saturday night, the 12th February, I was at the Roebuck public-house, which is nearly opposite—the prisoner and deceased were there—he asked her if she was coming home to have some tea—she said "Yes, in a few
minutes"—he went over, and she stopped for about a quarter of an hour afterwards—the deceased, and I, and her sister then went up to the Lion—that was about a quarter to 7 o'clock—she remained there till about half-past 9 o'clock—while we were there the prisoner came in—he said "Have you got my tea?"—she had some meat in her hand, and he pulled the meat out of her hand and pushed her outside the door—he went home to get his tea—he returned back into the house again for a very few minutes—I went back with her to the lodging-house—she was a little the worse for drink—she followed me into the kitchen, and as soon as we got in the prisoner passed me and went up to her and gave her a smack in the face with his flat hand—it knocked her down, and her head struck against the form against the door—he then pulled her up and pushed her out of the kitchen, and said "Now get into your own place—he then came back in the kitchen and pushed the door to—about 11 o'clock I saw the deceased standing at the door of her room—she said "Good night, Jack, I am going in"—the door was open; she went in and pushed it to——about a quarter to 1 o'clock the prisoner came into the kitchen, took off his coat and waistcoat and undid his braces, and said "I will bid you good night, I am going to bed"—about four minutes afterwards he came back in the kitchen and said "Good God, the old woman is gone, Jack!"—Mills, the porter, was there at the time.
Cross-examined. I met them both at the Roebuck; they seemed friendly then—that was between 6 and 7 o'clock—I was not aware that she had to get anything for his tea until she was in the Lion—she went out then and came back with some meat—when the prisoner came in again he asked her when she was coming over to get him his tea—we were drinking in that house from between 6 and 7 o'clock to 9.80—he could see the state she was in when she came into the kitchen—she seemed all right when I saw her at the door at 11.30—she was leaning against the door—I did not hear her moaning.
EDWARD MILLS . I am the night watchman at 169, Union Street—it is a registered common lodging-house—on Saturday night, about 10 o'clock, I saw Sarah Boss come out of the street—the prisoner was coming out of the kitchen, and met her in the passage—I saw Elizabeth Hammond there—I heard them talking in the passage—he said, "What are you showing me up for like this?"—he struck her in the face with his open hand, and knocked her down—something was said about a purse—she said, "The purse was empty, Tom; I gave it to her mother"—he said to Hammond, "When did she give it to your mother?"—she said, "A night or two ago"—he got hold of the back of the girl's neck and pushed her out and kicked her, and said, "We don't want none of your nonsense"—I was then called away—later in the night, about. 11, I saw the woman standing against the bedroom door—she asked me to open the door, and I opened it for her with the key—she said, "Don't tell Tom I am in"—she went in and slammed the door—there was no light in the room; she did not take any candle in with her—there is glass at the top of the door, and gaslight in the passage shows into the room—I did not notice what state she was in—I only had to unlock the door and let her in—about a quarter or 20 minutes to 1 I saw the prisoner in the kitchen—he came and asked me to let him in, and I opened the bedroom door and let him in—he went in and shut the door—that was the same room that the woman had gone in—I then went to the street door—I stayed there
something like three or four minutes, when the prisoner opened the door and called, "Ted"—I went to the door—he had his coat off; so he had when he went in—he said, "I believe my old woman is dead"—I said, "Shut up"—I went and got a piece of candle from the deputy, Mr. Saunderson; I lit it, and the prisoner went into the room first, and I followed him—I looked over his shoulder and said, "I'm d—d if she ain't dead"—the woman was lying in the middle of the bed, flat on her back, outside the clothes; she was dressed all but her boots, and hat, and crossover—she had her hat in her hand when she went in, and her crossover across her shoulders as usual—I can't swear whether she had her shoes on—when I went in the crossover was hanging on the bed-post—I did not see where her shoes were—her clothes were unbuttoned at the neck, all undone to the bosom—I did not touch her, only looked at her—I went and told the deputy, and then fetched the sergeant—the prisoner is a labourer; he went out to his work in the daytime.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's room was the third door from the street—the kitchen is farthest away from the street door—I give the time by hearing the chimes from the church clock at the bottom of Union Street—all was quiet when I shut the prisoner in his room—I went and stood at the street door till he called me—I had never seen them quarrel before—on this occasion I saw nothing that caused me to interfere.
ALBERT WHALLEY SAUNDERSON . I am the manager or deputy at 169, Union Street—on this Saturday night, about 20 minutes or half-past 9 I saw the prisoner in the passage; he met the deceased at the door—the little girl Hammond was there—I heard the prisoner say "You have come then, have you?" or something of that kind—I didn't hear her reply—he struck her on the face—she went down in the passage and asked him not to strike her again—some words passed between them, and he hit her again; I can't say whether with his open hand or his fist, and I think she fell—she cried out "Oh, Tom, don't nit me," and so did the little girl—he then asked her where the purse was—she said she had given it to Hammond's mother, and she asked the girl if it was not so, and she said "Yes"—he wanted to know when; she replied "Two or three days ago," and the girl said "Yes"—he said he did not want any of her speaking in the matter, and he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her out—he then returned down the passage towards the kitchen—the woman was standing in the passage—I wished them to retire, and not have any disturbance there—I went into my office, and did not see what became of them—I heard nothing more till about a quarter or 20 minutes to 1, when Mills called me and said the woman was dead—I went into the room, and saw the woman lying in the centre of the bed on her back—she had all her clothes on except her crossover, hat, and shoes—the upper part of her dress was open at the neck—I did not touch the body—I went for a policeman and doctor—the prisoner said he was sorry for it—I said "Yes, I am afraid it will be a bad job"—Dr. Roberts came in about 15 minutes; I followed him into the room—he asked who had struck her—the prisoner said "I did, with my open hand"—the policeman said that the blow from an open hand could not have caused the wound on the eye—the prisoner said "What, do you know better than me?"—I saw a mark right On the centre of her throat—when Dr. Evans came he said he thought the bolster ought to be placed under the woman's head—the prisoner said "No, it ought
to be taken from under her"—he also said "Do you think some one has been throttling her?"—that was all that passed—he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. I am quite clear that the word "throttling" was used; it was not "strangling—I was in my room when the disturbance commenced in the passage about 11 o'clock—I was in the passage when the prisoner went into the kitchen to tell them the old woman was dead—I had been in the passage about five minutes—about three buttons of her dress were undone in front—I did not examine it closely—I was in the kitchen four or five minutes after the prisoner went to his bedroom—I heard no scuffling or struggling in the bedroom—I think I was in a position to hear If there had been any—the partitions are not very thick.
GEORGE GIBSON (Police Sergeant M 4). On Saturday night, 12th February, shortly after 1 o'clock, I was on duty in Union Street beween 200 and 300 yards from 169—I was fetched to the house—I heard that Dr. Evans was at the station, and I ran there and took him to the house—I found Dr. Roberts in the passage near the prisoner's room—it was about 25 minutes past I when I got there—I went into the bedroom with Dr. Evans; the prisoner was there, and the deputy, and several were near the door—the woman was lying on her back with her clothes on—her dress was loosened at the breast—the lower part of her dress was smooth—she had no boots on and no hat—her arms were lying by her side, her head lay back, and Dr. Evans told the deputy that there ought to be something put under her head to raise it—some one who was standing at the door said "Yes, and she ought to have a bandage round her chin"—the prisoner replied "Do you want to make people believe she has been strangled?"—the witnesses Mills and Sanderson then told me that she had been assaulted by the prisoner that evening, and that she had no marks on her face before—the prisoner said "That is quite right; I gave her them to-night"—I told him I should take him into custody on suspicion of causing the death of the woman—he said "Mind, if you do you will have to pay for it"—he repeated these words two or three times going to the station—he was sober.
Cross-examined. I am quite clear about what was said in the room—somebody suggested that a bandage should be put round her neck as her mouth was open, and it was then the prisoner said "Do you want to make people believe that she has been strangled."
JOHN DUNGEY ROBERTS . I am a registered medical practitioner and M.R.C.S., of 73, Southwark Bridge Road—that is about three minutes' walk from Union Street—on Sunday morning the 13th February, about 1.10, I was fetched to 169; I was in bed at the time—I got up at once; it took me about five minutes to get there; I got there between 1.10 and 1.15; I was as quick as possible—I at once went into the bedroom, and saw the woman lying on her back outside the bed with all her clothes on except her boots and hat—her dress was a little open about the throat; I concluded it had been opened simply to ease the throat, as is usually done—her head was resting face upwards; her arms were by her side—the lower part of her clothes were all smooth; she had a recent bruise on each eye; such as might be caused by a blow from a hand or fist—I noticed a little dry blood in the left nostril, and a recent bruise on the throat—there was an ecchymosed
patch on the lower part of the larynx, just over the windpipe, and on the right it was rather swollen; it was about the sue of between a sixpence and a shilling—it was such a mark as would have been made by external pressure; it could have been made by a blow—her hair was not disordered—there was a bruise on the left side of the chin at the lower edge of the jaw—a slight mucus was exuding from the left corner of the mouth, which was nearly closed; the pupils of the eyes were equally dilated; she was quite dead—the body was not stiff; the rigor mortis had not set in; in my judgment she had been dead within an hour—it is difficult to say the exact time, but I should think about that time; she might have been dead during the last 20 minutes—Dr. Evans afterwards came; I did not interfere with the body any further that night—on the 15th, in the presence of Mr. Evans, I made a post-mortem examination; she was a woman somewhere about 30, well nourished—I saw the bruises on the eye where I have mentioned, and there was a recent bruise above the left elbow, and two above the right elbow; around the windpipe there was effusion of dark blood corresponding to the external marl; the throat was swollen—I could not trace any external marks of fingers on the throat; the thyroid gland was congested—there was extravasation of blood slightly clotted; there was frothy mucus inside the trachea and congestion, and even at the back of the throat; there was congestion' in front of the vertebrae; the brain was congested; there was one external mark of violence at the upper part of the forehead, and on removing the scalp I found a bruise there, which might have been caused by a woman being pushed and falling down; there was nothing serious in that—the membranes and the brain were congested; the internal organs were all healthy; the lungs were gorged with dark venous blood; the bladder was empty; the stomach contained partly digested food; the heart was quite empty—her linen inside was stained with urine and faces; the liver and kidneys were congested—in my judgment the cause of death was external violence, causing pressure on the windpipe—all this was compatible with suffocation—I mean such pressure as to stop breathing—such pressure would take about five minutes to cause death if kept on; it might be less in some cases—I should suppose from the internal appearance that there must have been complete pressure continued until death was caused—all the appearances were consistent with death having been caused in that way—I could not account for death in any other way—it was not possible for her to have caused her own death in that way—I should not think it could be caused by a woman going to bed in a state of intoxication with her mouth against the bed-clothes—that would not account for the bruise or for the condition of the throat.
Cross-examined. It would not be impossible for death to be caused in that way—I do not go further than to say that the symptoms were consistent with suffocation—it is very difficult to say whether death is caused by suffocation or not—the data are very few on which to base the fact that death is so caused, and with a person intoxicated it would be still more difficult; all the symptoms I have described are not consistent with death by apoplexy; the state of the throat was not—putting the throat out of the question altogether, it might be so—it is possible in apoplexy to have the same internal symptoms, but I could not account for the effusion round the throat; I opened the windpipe and all the parts around—there was no foreign substance in the throat—there was undigested
food in the stomach—it is possible, but not probable, that in the act of breathing something may come in the throat and stick in the passage—I know the case of the piece of potato skin being breathed back in a man's throat; of course I cannot say whether the body may not have been turned over before I saw it; in an ordinary case of strangulation one would expect to see marks of fingers on the throat, but not necessarily.
Re-examined. The woman was a strong, muscular, vigorous person—from the state of the throat I should say external violence must have been continued—the congestion inside would probably be caused by pressure on the windpipe; I believe that pressure did it, but possibly a blow might do it—in apoplexy you would not expect to find the heart empty, but it might possibly be; the condition of the throat could not have been caused by apoplexy, neither the swelling nor the congestion—the woman must have been helplessly drunk to have been suffocated in the way suggested—I have not seen her before—I cannot say whether she was helplessly drunk or not; if she had been able to walk about and go into the room of her own accord I should not think it likely that she would be suffocated by lying down on the bed-clothes.
By the COURT. The congestion of the back of the throat might possibly be caused by a very severe blow; great violence in front might produce it—she might live some considerable time after it; a couple of hours—suffocation has been known to take place in less than five minutes; experiments on animals generally show five minutes; four minutes is recorded.
THOMAS EVANS . I am a M.R.C.S.—I was sent for on the Saturday night or Sunday morning to the lodging-house—I noticed the clock at the police-station when I left; it was a quarter past one, and I think it would take us from seven to ten minutes to get to the house—I went with Sergeant Gibson—I went into the room and saw the woman lying there—I should not think she could have been dead more than an hour—the body was quite warm—she may have been dead some minutes; it is difficult to say—I noticed the condition of the throat—I was present at the postmortem examination—I have been present in Court, and heard the description of the body given by Mr. Roberta—he has accurately stated what the appearance weres; I have nothing to add—in the absence of any indication of death from natural cause I came to the conclusion that she had died from suffocation induced by pressure on the windpipe—I do not think the appearances were consistent with any other cause—it would take from four to five minutes to produce death by continued pressure.
Cross-examined. It is a very difficult thing for a doctor to make up his mind as to the cause of death in such a case—if the woman had been helplessly drunk and had gone and laid upon her face it might have been possible for her to be suffocated—supposing she had been slowly strangled for five minutes I should hardly expect, if she had made a struggle, to find her clothes lying over her feet—I should have expected to find some signs of a struggle—if there had been a struggle I should have expected that a person standing just outside the partition would have heard something of it—I came to the opinion that death was caused by suffocation in a great measure because I failed to assign any other reason for it—that taken in connection with the great injury done to the throat—I think the external bruise and perhaps the internal bruise might have been caused by a blow on the throat—it might cause syncope,
and death might be caused in that way—it must be caused within a very short period, not altogether instantaneously—it would be a very few minutes; it might possibly not be for five minutes; I cannot speak very accurately.
Re-examined. Syncope would be caused by the shock to the system; death might be very sudden—the internal appearances would be different if produced by suffocation—I should not expect to find the organs in the same state—I should not expect to find the gorged state of the longs, nor such a condition of the Teasels of the brain—I should not say it could not exist, but I should not expect to find it—I do not think it would be difficult to say whether a person died from syncope or suffocation—it would be more difficult to say whether she died from apoplexy or suffocation—I came to the conclusion that she died from suffocation, from pulmonary apoplexy; that is produced from the gorging of the lungs.
THOMAS BOND . I live at 17, Delahay Street, and am a F.R.C.S., assistant surgeon to Westminster Hospital, and lecturer on forensic medicine there—I have been many times examined in Courts of Justice on inquiries of this description—I have been in Court while the doctors gave their evidence—I have carefully attended to the description given by them of the appearance of the body, externally and internally—assuming that they are accurate in their description, the cause of death in my judgment was suffocation; I think sudden suffocation, by an absolute stoppage of the air into the lungs until death happened—that opinion is justified because of the condition of the heart—in slow suffocation the right side of the heart is usually full of blood; in very sudden suffocation we get the ordinary appearances of suffocation without the gorged state of the right side of the heart, what is termed an empty heart—supposing the pressure continued so as to stop the passage of the air, in two or three minutes death might be complete—in ordinary suffocation, that is slow suffocation, it would take four or five minutes, perhaps even more—it pressure was continued on the windpide that would be very likely to cause death quite suddenly, especially in a woman of low vitality from drinking, which does cause low vitality—I do not think the appearances were consistent with death from cerebral apoplexy—I should expect to find a great deal more congestion and effusion in the brain than I have heard described—a very violent blow on the throat might cause a shook sufficient to cause death from syncope—I do not think it a likely cause of death, but possible—Dr. Evans, I think rightly, said that he should not have expected the lungs to be so gorged, nor the brain so congested, nor should I; but apart from that, a drunken woman might have congestion of the lungs and brain—supposing a blow given to the throat sufficient to cause death from syncope, death might be quite sudden, from the immediate shock—it would be slower from a prolonged shock; the heart would be empty in that case—in a prolonged shock there is no absolute certainty in the condition of the heart, but we take it as a general probability that the heart will be empty—I do not believe that the woman herself could have caused pressure to the windpipe—I mean the woman would have to be very helplessly drunk to suffocate herself—there is a reflex action, which either raises the body or pushes away the object—I have tried that in a great number of cases of dead-drunkenness.
Cross-examined. In dead-drunkenness the action of pushing away might
be done absolutely quietly, without any noise—in less drunkenness there might be a noise and an exclamation—I have said that syncope was a possible cause of this death, but I do not think it nearly so likely as the hypothesis that the other gentlemen have taken up—I think it a possible cause.
By the COURT. In death from syncope I cannot imagine any other cause than a blow on the face—it is not an unusual cause—there are a great many large vessels there—if this woman died of syncope it must have been produced by a most violent blow on the neck, and most probably death would follow on the blow—the sympathetic nerves are freely developed at that point, and the circulation is very free, so that it is a very likely place to cause syncope, but it would require a very violent blow.
CHARLES GRAHAM (Police Inspector). I was at the station on the 13th when the prisoner was brought there about 2 a.m.—he was quite sober—he was charged with the wilful murder of this woman—he said "I know nothing at all about it."
ELIZABETH HARRISON . I live at 17, Harriet Street, New Cut, Lambeth—the deceased Sarah Ross was my sister; she was a widow, 31 years of age—she had been living with the prisoner two weeks before her death at this lodging-house—I saw her on the Saturday night in question at 9 o'clock—she was then sober and in her usual health; she had very good health.
Cross-examined. I never saw the prisoner ill-use her.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I will make my statement at the Court; I call no witnesses here."
GUILTY of manslaughter. — Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MOSELEY Prosecuted.
HARRY BEECH . I am day time-keeper in the employ of the London. Brighton, and South Coast Railway Company, at Battersea station, and am corresponding clerk to Mr. Eichardson, the Locomotive Superintendent—I make out the pay-tickets and check them with the time-book—on 19th January, at 4 o'clock, I made out this ticket in the name of H. Witham—I left at half-past 5, leaving the ticket on the desk in the general office—it was not within reach from the window—I came to work again at 6 o'clock next morning—With am came for his ticket at 12 o'clock and I could not find it—I informed Mr. Eichardson, and he gave me some instructions, and I made out a duplicate ticket on the 21st—I gave it to Witham—this is it.
GEORGE ARTHUR WESTON . I am employed as night time-keeper at the works at Battersea—I went on duty at 8 p.m. on the 19th January, and came off duty at 6 a.m. on the 20th—I saw the pay-tickets in the time office, on the window-ledge; they had been placed there by another clerk—the window was open—persons pass that window in going to and coming from work—it was possible to reach in at the window and take any of the tickets—the window was open the whole time I was there—I am not always in the office—I am often called into the general office at
the back—about 2.40 a.m. I heard a noise outside the window; I came down and saw the prisoner at the window—I asked what he wanted; he said his time was wrong, and he handed me a piece of paper with a memorandum of his time on it—he had previously had his ticket—I was seeing to his time, and two other pair of drivers came to sign off, and while I was attending to them the prisoner disappeared, and I saw no more of him till the Saturday night, when he came with Mr. Richardson and accused me of having given him the ticket on the Friday morning at 7 o'clock, when he went off duty—I told him that I was away at my work then; I had done at 6 o'clock—I next saw him on the Sunday morning, at Mr. Richardson's office, by appointment—Mr. Richardson then asked him how he got the ticket, and he said "I took it"—he had nothing to do with the time-keeper's office; he was a fireman—he could reach the ticket from the window—that was the proper place for them, to be handy for the men.
EDWIN KEIL . I live at 11, East Terrace, Queen's Road, Battersea, with ray mother and father—my father is an omnibus conductor—on 22nd January, about half-past 1 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner came to our house—he produced this ticket and asked mother if she would mind my going to cash it at York Road Station; she said I could go—he gave me the ticket and said "Do not say it is for Mr. James, but a lodger in your mother's house"—I went with it to York Road Station and handed it to the pay-clerk, and he took me before the station-master.
FREDERICK EDWARD BASSETT . I am senior pay-clerk at the York Road Station—on 22nd January the last witness presented this ticket to me—I immediately saw that the duplicate of this same ticket had been cashed, and that this was the original—I detained the boy and took him to the station-master, and he was taken to Mr. Richardson.
JOHN JAMES RICHARDSON . I am locomotive foreman at the Battersea Works—the prisoner was a fireman there—his pay day was every Thursday—on Thursday, 20th January, I received information respecting a missing ticket, in consequence of which I stopped the payment of the original ticket, and ordered a duplicate to be issued—I heard nothing more of it till the original was presented for payment—I went to the boy Keele, and in consequence of what he said I called on the prisoner on the Saturday night—I asked him if he had sent this ticket to York Road Station; he said he had—I asked him where he got it from; he said the timekeeper gave it him—I confronted him with the timekeeper; he still stuck to his statement—I ordered him to come down next morning (Sunday); he came, and he then said "I put my hand in the window and took it"—I then gave him into custody.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. BESLEY and WOOLFE Prosecuted; MESSBS. KEMP, Q.C., and OPPENHEIM Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CARTER Prosecuted.
WILLIAM MEREDITH . I am a shoemaker, of 51, St. George's Buildings—on 23rd February I went to bed just after I a.m.; the house was closed—I was called between 3 and 4 by the police; I found the front parlour window wide open, which had not been opened for some time—I lost two pairs of my shop work, also my own boots and my wife's, which were worth about 17s.—the police showed me one odd shoe.
JAMES BLOMFIELD . I live at 22, St. George's Buildings—it is a model lodging-house—I am a lithographic printer—about 3 a.m. on 23rd February I was woke up by a cough—I saw a flash of light come across the window—I got up, and saw the prosecutor's window right up, and the prisoner inside the window with a bandage tied round his head, handing some things out to another man—the outside man was holding the light; they blew it out, and I saw no more—I went to the policestation, and gave a description of the prisoner.
HENRY ANEY (Policeman M 17). The last witness gave me a description of a person—I first went to the premises of Mr. Meredith; I found the lower sash of the window, which is about two feet from the ground, open; this boot (produced) was lying outside, and I found these matches and a lot that had been burnt lying on the window sill—I called Mr. Meredith—I showed him the boot—from Blomfield's description I went to a coffee-stall in the Boro' High Street, about 100 yards off—I saw the prisoner with two other men standing there; he had a white bandage round his head; he attempted to walk away, and said "I know nothing about it"—I had not then spoken to him—I said "How long have you been here?" he said "About 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour"—I took him to the station, and he was identified by Blomfield—when charged he said he said he had been at London Bridge a great part of the night, and that he had not been at the place since about 11.30—I searched him; I found this door handle; I believe it has been used for raising the sash.
HENRY HAY (Policeman M 82). I was on duty in the neighbourhood of St. George's Buildings—I know the prisoner well—I saw him twice on the night of the 22nd February, once at about 11 p.m., and once just before 12, about half or three-quarters of a mile from London Bridge—I told him not to be loitering—I removed him the first occasion; on the second occasion he went away before I could do it—the first time a taller man was with him, the second time he was alone.
The Prisoner's Defence. When I was turned away from Mint Street I went to London Bridge; I know it was late. I do not know the time when I came to the coffee-stall, but I was only there a few minutes when the constable came and said "Where's the boots?" I said "I don't know anything about the boots," and he took me into custody and searched me, and found the handle of my mother's door, which I picked up in the passage, and forgot to return to her.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROBINSON Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
GEORGE HADLIEGE HUNT . I am a professional singer—on Friday, the 4th February, I was engaged in the West End; I afterwards went to the London Bridge Tavern and passed the evening with several friends—about 12,45 I was proceeding towards home; I was in Southwark
Street, near the railway arch—my legs were kicked from under me; I received two blows in my face; I fell forward, and was turned over on to my back; my coat was opened, and my watch and chain taken from one of my waistcoat pockets, and 2s. 9d. from the other, and all my pockets were searched, including my under pair of trousers; I had two pairs on—this was done by two men; the prisoner is one, the other was taller—they gave me a parting kick, and ran away—Cowen and Descombe asstated me and brought the prisoner back, whom I recognised as the one who had held me down and ill-used me.
Cross-examined. I was engaged at a concert—I left at 10.80—I saw no one hanging about the railway arch—I used the word "confederate" at the police-court, not "confederates"—my professional black trousers were underneath—the prisoners were from two to three minutes rifling my pockets—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket; its value is about 10s.—a property watch is a showy one to appear before the public with.
GEORGE COWEN (Policeman M 177). I was on duty in Southwark Street on Saturday morning, the 5th February—about one o'clock I heard footsteps coming through the Grove; I saw two men running from the Grove—I stood in a narrow part of the road—I tried to trip up the other, and Caught hold of this one—I said "What is the matter?—he said "Oh, nothing, only my pal" or "mate has upset a woman in South wark Street, and I want to get home out of it"—I said "That won't do for me; you will have to come back"—I took him back—I found no woman in Southwark Street, but I found the prosecutor supported by another constable—the prosecutor said "That is the man; he kneeled on my chest while the other one robbed me"—the prisoner made no reply.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said "My mate," not "My pal;" I swear it was not "a man."
THOMAS DESCOMBE (Policeman M 176). I was on duty in Southwark Street—I saw the prosecutor, and assisted him; he was bleeding from the nose and mouth—the prisoner was brought back, and the prosecutor said "I have been knocked down and robbed by two young man," and "That is the man who knelt on my chest while the other one felt in my pockets and had my watch and chain and money"—I took them to the station, where the prosecutor was attended to by the divisional surgeon.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
BUMSTEAD PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. POLAND Prosecuted.
GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant M). Before the 8th February I had been watching the prisoners for a month—I had seen them together several times in the street, and at 15, Etham Street, Long Lane, Bermondsey; I saw them on Sunday evening, 28rd January, in the first-floor back room—I went there in plain clothes with two uniform constables—Skinner was with them, who is now awaiting hit trial—I said "I am come to search for counterfeit coin"—Fletcher said "So help me God, Mr. Harvey, you will find none here"—I found nothing—I said "You have bested me, and I give you credit for it"—I went again on 8th February—I
stationed Martin in the back yard—I went in the front with Pickles to the first-floor back room; Bumstead was there—I could not get in at first, the door was locked; I looked through it and saw the window lifted—I tried to force the door but could not; then Bumstead opened the door and let me in—I searched and found nothing, but while I was there Martin came up and produced eight counterfeit florins—no one was in the room but the woman—I spoke to her about them, and then took her into custody.
GEORGE MARTIN (Policeman M 300). On 8th February I went with Harvey to 15, Etham Street; I was stationed in the back yard—I heard Harvey knock at the door—the window was opened by the female, and she threw out something which struck against the wall opposite—I jumped over the wall—the parcel had burst, and I picked up eight counterfeit florins; I took them up to the first-floor back room and handed them to Harvey—I afterwards went with Pickles in search of Fletcher—I found him in a public-house in Nelson Street—Pickles said "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with a woman at 15, Etham Street, in being possessed of eight counterfeit coins"—he said something, but I did not understand the remark he made.
THOMAS PICKLES (Police Servant M). I was present when the woman was taken into custody—she made a statement about the eight florins—after that I went with Martin and found Fletcher at a public-house in Nelson Street—I said "I shall take you for being concerned with a woman at Etham Street in possessing counterfeit coin; she is now at Stone's End Police-station"—he said "I know nothing of the counterfeit coin"—I said "The woman said you brought it home for her to mind"—he said "The woman can say what she likes; I know nothing of the coins; I sometimes live at 15, Etham Street, and sometimes with my mother."
CAROLINE HERD . I have lived at 15, Etham Street four months—the prisoners occupy the first-floor back room over me; they lived there when I went; I knew them as man and wife; I did not know their names—the woman told me he was her husband—I have seen them together in the room.
WILLIAM SALES . I keep the Ivy Leaf beerhouse at Dartford—on 2nd December Fletcher came to my house about 9.30 p.m.; I served him with half a pint of beer—he put down a florin; it was handed to me; I found it was bad; I bent it—I said "Young man, I believe you are in the habit of passing bad money, I shall fetch a constable;" he said "So you can"—the constable was fetched, he was given into custody; he said he took the florin in Bermondsey on Wednesday afternoon, and that he went to Maidstone, and came from Weston to Dartford—he was taken before the Magistrate, remanded, and afterwards discharged.
ALBERT SAMMER (Policeman Kent County Constabulary 24). On 2nd December the prisoner was given into my custody at Dartford—the last witness gave me a bad florin; I gave it to my superintendent—I bent the coin with my fingers on the table, and found it was bad.
CHARLES FREED (Superintendent Kent County Constabulary). On 2nd December Fletcher was brought to the police-station—when told the charge he said "I took it in Bermondsey; I went from Bermondsey to Blackheath by train, walked to Weston, and back to Dartford to-day"—the florin was given to me by the last witness—I showed it to Mr. Leach,
a silversmith at Dartford, who sounded it; it sounded very bad; it has been mislaid—he gave the name of Walter Leath, of somewhere in Bermondsey, not Etham Street.
Fletcher's Defence. I knew nothing of what was in the room; if I did I should have run away.
FLETCHER— GUILTY **.— Fifteen Month's Imprisonment. BUMSTEAD— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted.
SARAH MYERS . My husband keeps a china shop at 93, Newcomen Street—about midday on 2nd February I served the prisoner with a fourpenny jug; he gave me a florin, and I gave him 1s. 8d. change—I put it in the till; no other florin was there—when I examined the till about 5 or 6 at night I found a bad florin; that was the only florin taken during the day—I gave it to my husband, and he took it to the station; the next morning I showed the prisoner some egg-cups—he gave me a florin—I bent it; I found it was bad, and gave it him back, and said "This is a bad one;" he said "My employer most have given it to me; I will try to change it"—I recognised him as the man who had come the previous day—I was alone in the shop—I saw him in custody on the 9th; I identified him from six men—I have no doubt about him.
FRANCES MINNIE NORTON . I live at 8, Newcomen Street, a milk shop; I assist my father—on 2nd February, about 3 p.m., I served the prisoner with a half-quartern loaf of Nevilrs bread; he tendered half a crown—I felt it, and told him it was bad; he said he took it for his work—I gave it to him back; he left—I afterwards saw him in custody at the police-station, and identified him from several others.
ELIZABETH MORRIS . On 6th February I served the prisoner at my mother's shop, at 54, Union Street, Borough, about 3 p.m., with a pennyworth of tobacco and some cheese—he gave me a two-shilling piece; I saw it was bad—I tried it with my teeth—I told the prisoner it was bad—I called my mother—the prisoner took it out of my hand and ran out into the street; he left the things—I identified the prisoner at the police-court on the 18th from six men.
THOMAS PICKLES (Metropolitan Police-Sergeant). On 15th February, about 10 a.m., I went with Harvey to Rodney Street and took the prisoner into custody—he was in bed—I said "We shall take you to the police-station for identification for uttering counterfeit coin"—he said "Yes, and if I am not identified I shall go to the Magistrate and make you pay for this"—I took him to the station—he was identified by Myers and Norton—he said he did not tender the second coin, and he did not know the other one was bad.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not say when I came up to your room "Be quiet, Charlie, I could have had you before now if I liked"—you mentioned about a saw.
GEORGE HABVEY (Metropolitan Police-Sergeant). I went with Pickles to Bodney Street—when the prisoner was taken into custody he said, "If I am not identified I shall go to the Magistrate and make you pay for it"—I said "I think you ought to think yourself lucky; if I had taken you the other night when I turned you and Fletcher over at Etham Street, where do you think you would have been now?"—he said "Well, yes; I suppose I should have been doing penal now"—I referred to the case of Fletcher and Bumstead—I found a peice of paper in a workbox with "Bumstead" on it in pencil.
Cross-examined. I did not say "I gave you plenty of chance when Fletcher was took;" but you said when I went into the room of Fletcher, Bumstead had 20 florins concealed under her stays—I did not know that at the time; you said it in a public-house.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know the florin was bad. I never saw the other gentlemen in the case, and I have never been convicted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted.
GEORGE HARVEY (Metropolitan Police-Sergeant). On Saturday evening, 29th January, about 5.45, I was with another officer—I saw the prisoner at the corner of the York Road and Waterloo Road—I said "I shall arrest you for being a deserter from the West Surrey Militia"—he said "I am no deserter"—he struggled hard to get away, and attempted to put his hands into his pockets—I and Stratton held him till two uniform men came to our assistance, then we pushed the prisoner into a shop—I saw Stratton place these four half-crowns on a shelf in the shop—I took this florin from his right hand pocket—I said "This is bad; how do you account for it?"—he said "A man threw it away, and I picked it up"—on the way to the station he said "A man gave it to me to hold whilst he went into a public-house"—when charged at the station he said "Did not you see a man with me?"—I said "No"—he said "There was one; he was boozed, and I eased him of his money, and now you say it is bad; so I suppose if you don't charge me with having bad money in my possession, you will charge me with robbing my mate"—he said he came from Dover, and was an Irish comedian—I found on him threepence-halfpenny in coppers—the florin was loose in his pocket, and no paper with it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do not know you; you evidently do not belong to the gang the others belong to.
AMOS STRATTON . I was with the last witness on Saturday evening, the 29th January—I have heard his evidence—it is correct—I found four half-crowns in the prisoner's right-hand coat pocket, with a piece of paper between each coin—the paper was torn to pieces in the struggle—I put the coins in the shop till the prisoner was secured.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "All I can say is I picked them up, I did not know what they were."
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. DOUGLAS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
HERBERT MATTHIAS ROMBACH . I am an apprentice to Matthias Rombach, of 21, Spring Street. Paddington, jeweller, my father—about the middle of the day on the 6th December I was in the shop when the prisoner came in and wanted to look at some little pencil cases—I showed him some which he looked at; about three minutes afterwards another man came in and wanted to look at some gold watches, and I took out a tray and he picked up one and looked at it, and said it was rather too large, and asked if we had one smaller—I told him we had not got one—he said "Never mind, don't trouble," and went off—the prisoner was looking at the pencil cases, and I saw him put something into his pocket; a pencil case and seal—my mother came into the shop and I told him I was going to get some more pencil cases—I gave her the signal that there was a robbery, and then I went into the private passage and went out at the private door, leaving the prisoner in the shop—I went as far as the corner of the street to see if I could find a policeman, and as I was coming back he popped out of the shop—Iran after him through Conduit Place, then down London Street and Sussex Court, and I lost him close to Hyde Park—I returned to the shop and found a watch missing, a pencil case, and a gold seal (watch produced)—I am positive this is the watch—I saw it at Lambeth Police-court—I do not know anything about the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I never saw him before the 6th December, and never again until he was in custody—he was placed with two other men much younger than himself—I described him to the police—my mother is not here—she gave a description of the man to the police—he was looking at the pencil cases at the middle of the counter—he was about five minutes in the shop—I know what five seconds means—I cannot say for certain he was there five minutes—it is a German watch; we do not manufacture them ourselves—we got that of a friend of ours who is a dealer in watches—I cannot say whether that is stamped with a private mark—I did not take the number of it—I identify the watch by the case—the chasing on the back is very rare; I never saw such chasing—I identify it also by the size—it has no other distinguishing mark.
Re-examined. It was in Detective George's hands that I saw the watch—(Detective George called in)—that is the man.
Cross-examined. I got a description of the two men—Mrs. Rombach did not describe the man who came into her shop as a dark, swarthy man.
The indictment further charged the prisoner with being convicted of felony on the 21st of October, 1878, at Brighton Quarter Sessions, in the name of James Smith, to which he
There were two other indictments against the prisoner, which were not proceeded with.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
335. CHARLES GOODRIDGE (20) to breaking and entering the church of St. Jude, Southwark, with, intent to steal. The indictment farther charged him with having been convicted of felony at Guildford in July kit, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PURCELL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence upon this and also upon another indictment.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GREFFITHS Prosecuted.
MARY ANN EARWICKER . I live at 213, Commercial Road, Peckham, and am the wife of William Earwioker—on the night of 4th February I went to bed at about 10 o'clock, and bolted the front door—I got up the next morning at 6 o'clock, and when I came downstairs I found that the door was opened and the parlour window was broken; tome flowers that were in the window had been put in the front garden—I missed three coats, a pair of trousers, a compass box, two umbrellas, and a walking-stick—I identify that umbrella (produced)—the value of the property is about 3l.
Cross-examined by the male Prisoner. I recognise the umbrella by the handle and the way it is worn.
Re-examined. I have had this umbrella about 18 months.
By the JURY. The other umbrella had a hooked handle, and was much older than this—it was silk.
CHARLES VINEY (Detective P). On the 16th February I went to 40, Green Hundred Road, Commercial Road, where I found the prisoners lodged—I was shown by the landlady the room they occupied, and by her permission I broke the door open, as it was locked—in the room I found this umbrella—the last witness had given me a description of them, which this answers—I waited until the female prisoner came home—I showed her the umbrella, and said "How did you come by this?"—she said "I bought it of a man in the street about twelve months ago"—I said "It has been identified by a lady in the Commercial Road as having been stolen from there on the 5th of this month"—she said "I may as well tell you the truth, then; my husband brought it home one night"—I said "You will have to go to the station with me and be charged with him for stealing this umbrella and other property"—she said "Very well"—after she said her husband brought it home I said "Then you are married, I suppose"—she said "Yes"—I said "Where were you married?"—she said "At Bethnal Green about six years ago, on the 4th July"—I said "Have you the certificate?"—she
said "No, I have lost it"—I said "Are there any witnesses about here who were at the wedding?"—she said "No, there was no witness except the church-keeper"—she could not tell me the name of the church she was married at—I took her to the station; she was searched, but nothing found on her—I hare since searched at Somerset House for the names of Emily Kelly (her maiden name) and Henry Parsons for the years 1873, '4, '5, '6, and 7, and there is no such marriage—the male prisoner was previously apprehended by another officer—she was taken to the police-court on the 17th, and remanded until the male prisoner came up on the 23rd—I told the male prisoner in the presence of the female that he would be charged with her for stealing these umbrellas—he said "That is my umbrella; I gave a shilling for it to a man in the street some time ago."
Cross-examined by the male Prisoner. You did not say I could not charge you with your own property.
Re-examined. After I found the umbrella I took it to the prosecutrix on the 16th, who identified it; she lives only 200 or 300 yards from the house that was broken into.
ELLEN JUDGE . I am the wife of George Judge, costermonger, of 40, Green Hundred Road, Peokham—the prisoners lodged with me for eight months as man and wife—he said he worked in an oil-cloth factory, and used to come home late—I have seen the female prisoner carry out parcels occasionally—the detective came in, and I gave him leave to break open the door—I saw him find the umbrella; the prisoners were backward in their rent—when I have asked the female prisoner for it she has said she would go and make the money, and then would pay me, and I have then seen her leave the house with a bundle; they were unfurnished lodgings.
Cross-examined by the male Prisoner. The parcels taken out were a good sue as a rule—I did not notice the size particularly—you said you had been out of work for some time—I have not seen inside the room, except when the constable was in.
The male Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "Whatever has been done my wife is innocent of."
The female Prisoner's. "I am innocent."
The male prisoner, in his defence, said that the things taken out were of their bed and floor, &c., and that he was lawfully married to the female prisoner on the 4th July, 1875; that he took his mother's name, and was now in his father's.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MARCH 28TH, 1881.