CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
McARTHUR, MAYOR. NINTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two start (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, June 27th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
CAROLINE PALMER . I live at 30, Hastings Street, St. Pancras, and am the wife of Peter Palmer, a greengrocer—about 11.15 on Saturday night, 4th June, the prisoner came for two bundles of rhubarb, which came to 9d.—she said she had not quite enough change, but would I change a sovereign, and she produced a Hanoverian medal like this—I said it was a bit of brass worth nothing—she said it was quite good, for she got it in change with four others at Parkins and Gotto's for a 5l. note that afternoon—she showed me the four others, they were similar—I called a constable and gave her in custody; on the Tuesday following, I saw my husband pick up another coin like that, off the floor, exactly where she stood—I gave both those coins to the constable.
JOHN GRIFFIN (Policeman E 478). The prisoner was given into my custody—I said "Have you any others?"—she said "Yes," and gave me these four—they were loosely wrapped in tissue paper, all four together—she said that she got them in change for a 5l. note at Parkins and Gotto's, in Oxford Street—I took her to the station—she refused her name and address.
HENRY WILLIAM LEE . I am cashier to Messrs Parkins and Gotto, stationers, of Oxford Street—it is my duty to give out all change required in the shop, and on the 4th June I gave no coins of that description in change for a 5l. note—I do not know whether coins of that sort are kept in the shop, I have never seen any—there was a 5l. note brought to me for change.
GUILTY.— Judgment Respited.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
FOURTH COURT.—Monday, June 27th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
ALFRED GIBBS . I am a confectioner, of 63, Bengal Road, Isle of Dogs—on 23rd May Jones tendered me a bad half-crown for a fourpenny cake—she said that she took it in change on Saturday night, and gave me a good one, and I gave it back to her—she had tendered a bad one on the previous Saturday for some nuts—I put it in my pocket and did not find it was bad till she had left—I marked it and gave it to John Smith—when she left on the 23rd I followed her and saw her join Shepherd and give him the cake, she also gave him something which he threw into a field—she then passed something to him, and he went into Maskell the grocer's shop, where Godsell joined her—he was carrying a bag—I gave information at the station, and then followed them to the Lord Nelson, where Jones went in—we went into another compartment, and she asked the landlady how long the bus would be—she got into it, and Smith got outside—I afterwards saw Shepherd go into Mr. Green's shop in Emmett Street, about a mile and a half off, and then Jones went in—the woman ran out and said "Where has that woman gone? she has given me a bad half-crown"—I fetched Jones back, and she was given in custody—the cake was found on Godsell, who carried the bag.
Cross-examined by Shepherd. I did not say "I think that is the man," nor did the officer say "When you get to the station you must not think, you must be sure."
ROSETTA GREEN . I am a tobacconist, of Emmett Street, Poplar—on 23rd May, about 9 p.m., Shepherd came in for a cherry pipe, and while he was looking at it Jones came in for two half-ounces of tobacco, and tendered a half-crown—Catherine Cotter gave her the change and she left—I took it from her hand and gave it to the potman, who put it to his mouth—I had seen Jones there on 12th May, when she gave Catherine Cotter a florin, which I afterwards found was bad and gave it to a constable.
Cross-examined by Jones. You usually came on Sunday and Thursday afternoons—I noticed you because you came so regularly.
CATHERINE COTTER . I am a widow—I assist Mrs. Green—on 23rd May, Shepherd came in for a penny pipe, and Jones two or three minutes after him for two half-ounces of tobacco, which came to 4d.—she gave me a half-crown—I kept it in my hand and gave it to Mrs. Green, who gave it to the potman after Jones left—it was found to be bad, and given to the police—on 12th May, Jones had given me a florin for two half-ounces of tobacco—it was afterwards found to be bad, and given to the police.
CHARLES HIND . I am a labourer—on 12th May I went to Mrs. Green's shop and tendered a half-crown for some tobacco—Mrs. Cotter gave me a bad florin in change, and I gave it to Mrs. Green, and left the house with her—it was not out of my sight.
JAMES MASKELL . I assist in a grocer's shop in Poplar—on 23rd May, about eight o'clock, Jones came in for one ounce of tea and some sugar, which came to 2 3/4 d.—she gave me a half-crown—I put it in the till, where there were only a few sixpences, and afterwards gave it to Mrs. Chambers
in change for a half-sovereign—I give her two half-crowns and some shillings and sixpences—a constable brought it back next day—I do not know where the second half-crown came from, but the one Jones gave me was bright.
MARTHA CHAMBERS . On the 23rd May, about 8 p.m., I bought some articles at Mr. Tredgett's shop, and put down a half-sovereign—Maskell gave me the change, among which were two half-crowns—a constable came and sounded them next morning, and I marked one and handed it to him; I then went to Mr. Tredgett's shop and received goods for it, and 2d. change—I had one other half-crown and no other silver.
HENRY SMYTHE . I am a dental surgeon, of 46l. Manchester Road, Cubitt Town—on 19th May, between one and two o'clock, I saw Shepherd walking up and down the road, between one and two o'clock, and saw Jones join him—I had seen them three or four months before, when Jones came to the shop I manage for a Seidlitz powder and twopenny worth of zinc ointment, and tendered a bad half-crown, and Shepherd came in about two minutes for one pennyworth of ant bilious pills, paid with a penny, and went out; my wife said in the presence of both the prisoners that the half-crown was bad, and I said to Jones, "Where did you get this? it is bad"—she said, "At a butcher's a few doors higher up;" and gave me a good one—I followed, and saw the prisoners join about two hundred yards down, and did not see them again till 19th May.
JOHN SMITH (Policeman K 155). On the 23rd May Mr. Gibbs came to the station, and I went with him to the Lord Nelson public-house, where I saw Jones get into an omnibus; I got on top of it, and Shepherd and Godsell walked on till it overtook them—Jones afterwards got out and waited for Shepherd and Godsell—I saw him drop something; one of them picked it up, and they all three went round the corner—Shepherd and Jones went into Mr. Green's shop—I watched through the window, and saw Mrs. Green give her two half-ounces of tobacco; she tendered a half-crown—Shepherd pointed out some pipes in the window, and Mrs. Green came out and said that Jones had given her a bad half-crown—Gibbs fetched her back, and I went in and detained Shepherd, and found 39s. on him—he denied all knowledge of Jones—going to the station I saw Godsell a little ahead with the bag, and told him to come to the station, and I should lock him up; he said that he had never seen them before—no bad money was found—there was a loaf in the bag, and some tea and sugar, cake, two boxes of ointment, two spirit bottles, and some camphor—Gibbs pointed out a field to me, and I found this bent half-crown there—I received this bad florin and half-crown from Mrs. Green, the bad half-crown from Mr. Gibbs, and the other from Mrs. Chambers—I found 10d. on Godsell.
Shepherd's Defence. I never saw Jones before in my life.
Jones's Defence. This is not the young man I was with. I was never in the shop before. It was my own money. He took the change out of my hand, and said, "I will give you another half-crown," but I never received it.
SHEPHERD and JONES— GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour. GODSELL— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
ELIZABETH REEVES . My husband is a tobacconist, of New Compton Street, Soho—on 18th May I served Reece with twopenny worth of tobacco; she put down a florin—I gave her the change in coppers, and put the florin into the till, where there was no other florin—Hales came in behind her, asked for half an ounce of tobacco, and gave me a florin—I thought it strange, and bent them both in the trier—Reeves had then gone—I seized Hales, but he tore away from me—on 28th May I recognised both prisoners at Bow Street—I knew Reece because she had two black eyes—these are the coins, I marked them—I described the prisoners to the police.
Cross-examined. The gas was alight—I saw eight or ten women at Bow Street, and picked Reece out by her two black eyes—I was not certain about Hales at first, but the longer I look at him the more certain I get—I don't know how many men were present when I picked him out, I was worried.
ALBERT GREGORY (Policeman E). I received a description of the prisoners from the last witness, and took them at the Two Spies public-house, a quarter of a mile from the prosecutor's shop—Hales said, "You have made a mistake; I never passed a bad shilling in my life"—Reece said, "Me pass a bad shilling I would rather cut my throat"—I found on Hales 4l. in gold and 8s. in silver—the prisoners were placed among seven or eight women, and I dare say eighteen men, and Reeves identified them—I stood near the cell while Reece was searched—Sergeant Berry searched Hales a second time, after which I asked him what he had done with the four sovereigns; he said, "Never mind, that is my business;" I gave it to a constable.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoners on the 24th in Seven Dials—I was in plain clothes—I went for assistance, and when I came back they were gone—I did not charge them with stealing the 4l.—among the men with whom Hales was put there was a man very much like him, who I asked to come in.
CHARLES BERRY (Police Sergeant E). On 28th May I went with Gregory to the Two Spies, and saw the prisoners—I said, "We are about to take you into custody for passing a counterfeit half-crown on the 18th of last month, in Compton Street—she said, "A bad half-crown! I would rather cut my throat"—as I took her out she said to Hales, "This is what you have done for me by bringing me to dirty old Massey's"—I took them to the station and found 8s. 6d. on Hales—I asked him what he had done with the gold which Gregory found on him; he said, "I gave it to a policeman"—the female searcher gave me 1s.—Reece said if she had had any gold she should have been too clever for us; she would have swallowed it.
Cross-examined. I did not say that at the police-court; I was not asked—Massey was the proprietor of the Two Spies; he has had to close his house because he is a convicted thief.
JOHN MACKINTOSH . I am a glass-blower, of 45, Queen Street, New Cut—my mistress let the prisoners a furnished room, and I was standing at the door—they came on 21st May, and stayed a week—Reece had a black eye the day after they came.
THEODORA DILLON . I searched Reece at the station on 21st May, and found 1s., which I gave to Berry, and she said to him that if she had had any gold on her a better man than he could not have found it, as she would have boned it.
GUILTY . They both PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions of a like offence in April, 1880.— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. DUFF Prosecuted.
HENRY VINCENT . I lire in Queen Street, Long Acre—on 10th May I locked up the house at 10.15, bolted the door, and went up to supper—I bolted the door under the house and the kitchen door—at 11.30 I came down to lock the door and found it open—I went into the lobby and found one of my drawers containing pyramid balls empty—I went into the club and missed all the pool-balls and the billiard-balls from the table—I also missed 57 spoons and 37 forks, plated, and a letter from the letter-rack addressed to Mr. Parker—only my wife and servant were in the house—the cellar-flap was disarranged, as if somebody had been concealed there—the prisoner was in my employ some months before.
EDWARD TALLIN (Detective Officer). I went into a public-house in Provost-Street, and saw the prisoner showing a piece of paper to some persons—I asked him what he had, and he tore it into small pieces, which were afterwards put together and formed a cheque for 20l.—I asked how he came into possession of it; he said that his master's place in Great Queen Street' had been broken into, and two men gave him that cheque.
RICHARD REVELL (Policeman). I was with Tallin when the prisoner was taken—I apprehended Hampshire, and told him I should take him for being concerned with Brown, then in custody—he made a statement about a man named Clark—I apprehended Clark, and told him it was for being concerned with Thomas Brown in breaking into his late employer's premises—he said that he knew Brown, but knew nothing of the robbery—he was remanded for three weeks and discharged.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not commit the burglary, but I know it was done, and I received the cheque in a public-house. A cabman said he saw three young men, and recognised one of them as being there dressed in black. I had no black clothes. The one he recognised was discharged. I no sooner had the cheque in my hand than I was taken. I tore it up because I knew I should be accused of it if I was locked up, and I did not want him to see it, but I did not commit the burglary.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SICHEL Prosecuted.
HUGH GAUTIER . I am a pianoforte manufacturer, of 172, Euston Road—on 22nd May, at 11.15 p.m., I entered a urinal at the end of Seymour Street, and was immediately struck by what appeared to be a stone on my hand—I turned and saw the prisoner standing in the road within three or four feet of me, and a lot of fellows by a public-house—I said "What are you doing that for?" and he struck me in my eye—my hat went off; I tried to pick it up, and he kicked me on my head—I then gave up the chase after my hat—I fell, and the prisoner struck me a final blow—I had never seen him before—I am sure he is the man—I threw him down, and kept him till he was apprehended.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not push you against some white stuff; there was some there—I did not rub against you or threaten to strike you—I had no stick.
THOMAS COLEMAN (Policeman A 178). On 22nd May, about 11.20 p.m., I received information, ran to Seymour Street, and saw a crowd, and Gautier and another man holding the prisoner—Gautier gave him in custody, and produced the leather strap, and said that the prisoner struck him six or seven times with it—he came quietly about 100 yards, and then put one of his legs between mine and tried to throw me down—a man assisted me to take him to the station—he had been drinking, but was not drunk.
Cross-examined. I saw no chloride of lime, and saw no white stuff on your clothes.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CHAPMAN Prosecuted.
ANN WILLIAMS . I am a servant at 50, Ansell Street, Fulham—on 7th June I was out shopping with my sister and her husband—we went into the Greyhound public-house, and the prisoner and another man were there—he was using violent language to a woman, my sister told him he ought to know better, and he struck her in the eye and gave her a black eye—he was turned out, and I said "You are a cruel man; you have almost killed my sister"—he said "I will do the same to you," and stabbed me on my arm and head—I went to the East London Hospital, and was detained there a week—here is a hole in the sleeve of my dress.
Cross-examined. You did not have a stone—you are a perfect stranger to me.
ELLEN CALLAGHAN . I am the wife of Daniel Callaghan—on 7th June I was with my sister at the Greyhound about 11.15—I saw the prisoner there, and asked him if he would go outside with the language he was using to a middle-aged person—he said "What has that to do with you, you b——cow?"—I said "Perhaps you would have somebody to take more interest in you if you were at home," and he hit me on my eye with his fist, causing a black eye—he and his friend were turned out, and my sister said "You nearly killed my sister, you beast"—he said
"I will do the same for you," and struck her—she went to a chemist's, and next morning to the hospital.
Cross-examined. My eye was sore on the Monday before the Magistrate—he ordered me to take the bandage off; he did not the laugh at me.
DANIEL CALLAGHAN . On 7th June I was at the Greyhound with my wife—the prisoner was using violent language, and my wife said "Young man, I should feel much obliged to you if you will take your conversation a little farther off"—he hit her twice, and caused her two black eyes—I met him outside, and asked him what he had done it for—he never answered, and my sister-in-law spoke to him and said he was a very cruel man—he went about 15 yards down, and returned with a knife in his hand, and put his arm round her neck—I went to catch hold of him, and the blade of the knife stuck out from his hand—he hid himself—I walked down the road, and my mistress said "There he is"—he ran, and I caught him—he hit me with the knife and I knocked him down—a policeman came up—I was forced to let him go.
Cross-examined. I swear you used the knife—I was sober.
SARAH, FANNY CHILDS . I was outside the Greyhound on 7th June looking for my brother, and saw Mr. Gallaghan trying to get his wife home, and soon after that the prisoner came up and struck her on her head and arms, and I saw her bleeding.
HENRY JAMES BARRETT . I am house surgeon at the West London Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there on the morning of 8th May suffering from a punctured wound on the left side of her head, and an incised wound on her left arm, caused by an instrument of some kind.
Cross-examined. She appeared tolerably sober.
JOSEPH HAMMOND (Policeman T 473). I took the prisoner next morning and told him the charge—he said, "Very well, policeman, I will go with you"—the charge was read over to him at the station, and he said, "All right"—his eyes were discoloured, and he had spots on his face.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDWARD BAXTER . The prosecutrix came in and said to the prisoner, "Are you going to treat me?"—he said, "No, why should I treat you?"—she struck him with a pint pot, and the landlord jumped over the bar and shoved her out—we stopped there 10 minutes after that, and when we got outside Callaghan knocked the prisoner down, and kicked him from one side of the road to the other.
Cross-examined. The landlord turned out the prosecutrix and the two women, all except the prisoner and me—I saw him kicked across the road; I did nothing to prevent it.
MARY ANN WRAYERS . I saw the prosecutrix and Gallaghan attack you—there was a crowd outside, and one said to the other, "Wait till he comes out"—I stayed to look on, and Gallaghan caught one man by his throat, and they all knocked him down in the road—they followed him half a mile, and Gallaghan got him round the neck against a shop and said, "Look at the b—y b—," and a woman said, "Hold my baby, mother, and I will give it to him," and a man with Gallaghan took off his coat to fight—you had two black eyes.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoner before—I saw the two women at the Greyhound, but did not see either of them bleeding from the head—an old woman held the baby while Mrs. Callaghan kicked the prisoner on his head—I did not see him kicked across the road first, but Callaghan told me of it—Callaghan caught him by the throat.
— MORGAN. I saw Callaghan holding the prisoner on the ground, kneeling on him, with his knuckles in his collar—the prisoner had two block eyes, and blood was running from his face—I asked Callaghan if he would allow the prisoner to get up—he said "No"—I said, "You know where he lives, and if he has done wrong let him get up; if you hold him there he will die"—he said that if I interfered with him he would serve me the same—I told him where they lived, and said I would be answerable—they would have killed him if they had not released him.
Cross-examined. I am a fellow-lodger of his—he made no attempt to get away.
Prisoner's Defence. I told the prosecutrix I had no money to treat her, and she gave me a push. The landlord had them turned out, and me and Baxter waited about 10 minutes. When I got out Callaghan and his sister attacked me, and the prosecutrix struck me with a stick. I got away twice, and they ran after me again and said that they would strangle me. They were all mad drunk, but I was quite sober.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 28th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. RIBTON Defended.
GEORGE HOPKINSON (a prisoner). I am at present awaiting my trial at the Appleby Assizes, Westmoreland, on a charge of burglary—I have known Hewson two years last February—when I first knew him I was living as servant to Sir John Holker, the late Attorney-General, in Devonshire Street, Portland Place—Hewson came there once to see me with a man named Bache, who was then valet to Mr. Mansfield—after leaving Sir John Holker's I was out of place for some time—while I was out of place I met Hewson in the street on several occasions—I first went to his house on 5th September last, 29, Hogarth Road—I went there alone by previous appointment on the Saturday—he said he had got a man to go down with me to Ampthill Park to commit a burglary and get a dressing-case—I knew that Mr. Lowther lived there—I went to Hewson's house about 8 o'clock on the Sunday morning, the 5th—he told me he had seen this man, and we were to meet at Earl's Court Railway-station—I went there at 11 and met Joseph Taylor and Hewson there—we walked along the street and talked over how the robbery should be done, and then Taylor and I arranged, in Hewson's presence, that we should go down to Ampthill Park from St. Pancras—we were to be at the station at 4.30 that afternoon—I left Taylor and Hewson in the street at Earl's Court, and met Taylor as appointed at St. Pancras Station—Taylor took two tickets, I am not quite certain whether it was to Ampthill or to Bedford—when we got out of the train we went through the wood and park, and on to the lawn in front of Ampthill House, about 8 o'clock—the servants had just come home from church—I and Taylor
concealed ourselves in the house—I went up to Mrs. Lowther's dressing-room and stole the dressing-case—we took it away about half a mile and broke it open and took out a quantity of jewellery—we left the dressing-case in a corner of a field—we then went to Bedford—Taylor's wife's mother lived there; we knocked them up, and they let us in—Taylor remained there, and I took the train back to London close on 3 in the morning—I got to London about 4—Taylor gave me the money to pay my fare—I went to the Pitt's Head, Cumberland Place—on Monday, 6th September, I met Taylor at Hewson's house in Hogarth Road; I did not think of meeting him there—Taylor had possession of the jewellery at Bedford; he brought it to London to Hewson's—Taylor said he had been offered 100l. for it—I said that was not much—Hewson joined in the conversation—this was not at Hewson's house, it was in a public-house close by; I don't know the name of it, about two or three hundred yards from Hewson's house—I then went home with Taylor to 15, Canal Road, Dalston—I believe we left Hewson in the street—I remained there all night—next morning, the 7th, we left the house together about 10 o'clock, and separated—I met him again at 12 o'clock at noon at the Marble Arch with Hewson, as we had arranged—Taylor said he wanted to go into the City to show some person the jewels; it was agreed that he and Hewson should go together—I believe they went, they left me for that purpose—two days after I again went to Hogarth, Road, and saw Hewson there—previous to that I had seen a man named King, a friend of Taylor's—I cannot say whether the jewellery was produced when I went to Hewson's on this occasion—it was in its setting at that time; I assisted in taking out the stones—Taylor had them in his possession for a day or two, and then King, Taylor, and I went together to a man named Anthony in Helmet Bow, Old Street, St. Luke's—the gold and silver setting was sold to Anthony for 19l. or a little over, and that was divided between Hewson, myself, and Taylor, and 1l. was given to King for his trouble—I had a few of the loose stones a day or two after, I can't exactly say how many, perhaps 80 or 100; I also had this little brooch and this pendant—Taylor said he did not think some of the stones were any good—I kept the stones five or six days—I then took them to Hewson, the brooch, the pendant, and these two little pieces with diamonds, and another piece which is not here—he said he thought some of them were good, and he would have them made into rings—a short time after that he gave me one stone to sell—two or three days after I saw Hewson again at his house, and asked him to give me the stones back; I said I wanted to sell them—he said he had given them to his daughter—he still continued to keep the brooch, pendant, and diamonds; I never got those from him—Anthony is a melter or refiner—I had not sold property of the same kind to him before; I have since—on 18th April last I was taken into custody for a burglary committed in. Westmoreland—I then made a statement, in consequence of which I was seen by the authorities, and my evidence was taken, and the prisoner was subsequently given into custody on this charge.
Cross-examined. I was about five or six months in Sir John Holker's service; I left in March, 1879, and I was out of employment till October, when I went to Mr. Biddulph—I went out waiting when I could get anything to do; sometimes perhaps two or three nights a week—the prisoner never employed me as a waiter—I believe he has said so; I deny it—I was engaged as an occasional waiter several times by Mr.
Lowther at his house in London—I lived with Mr. Lowther at Ampthill Park from '66 to '71—I knew all the arrangements of the house—I remained with Mr. Biddulph about five or six months—about a month after leaving him I went to the Carlton Club on his recommendation, I believe—on 1st April, I believe, somebody broke into Mr. Biddulph's house, after I had left; they thought it was me—I was taken up, and the Magistrate discharged me—I was at the Carlton Club two or three months; I left there about the end of June—I was not out of employment from then till October, 1880—I never had any regular employment after I left the Cariton—I was discharged from there—I did not hear of any plate being stolen; there was some missing—I am not aware that anything was said about a letter with notes in it being missing; I never heard of it—I believe some sugar-tongs or something was missing, that was not the reason that I was discharged; I believe Mr. Biddulph said some-thing to some of the men; that was what I was told—that was before the robbery—two of the houses in which I lived have been broken open—I first saw Hewson at Sir John Holker's; he came there once with a friend of mine who was a friend of his; that was perhaps three weeks or a month before I left Sir John Holker's—I saw him frequently in the street after that, when I was out of place, but never went to his house till the 5th September—I never asked him to lend me any money—he has given me a glass of beer sometimes and I have given the same to him—he gave me 2s. on 5th September to get some refreshment with, not to defray my expenses to Ampthill Park—I know that he has stated that he lent me money on one or two occasions—I saw him on 4th September—the robbery had been arranged between myself and Hewson a day or two before, I could not say the dates—I did not see Taylor till the 5th; I met him on the Saturday—there had not been any appointment to meet on the Sunday—I have not got any witness here to prove that we three were seen together before the robbery—I believe the diamonds were in paper, not in any case—they were in paper when I gave them to Hewson—I could not say whether they were in paper or in a little pill-box; they were in the dressing-case when we took them away from Mr. Lowther's—we left that about half a mile from the house, after taking out the contents, which were put into Taylor's pocket—I believe some of them were missing when we met at Hewson's on the Monday night—I cannot say whether Taylor showed him all the jewellery that he had got—Taylor did not go with me to Anthony's; he got part of the 19l.—I got about 6l. 10s.—Taylor told me that Hewson had got about the same; I did not see him get it—Hewson keeps an hotel at 29, Hogarth Road, and he has a private house in Drayton Terrace; it was at Hogarth Road that I left the pill-box; it was not an hotel then, it was a private house, a sort of boarding-house—I have been there frequently—he was not called out of the dining-room to see me when I gave him the pill-box; it was in the pantry, between 9 and 10 o'clock in the evening—I can't say what he did with it; he looked at the stones—no one was present—I stayed there that night—when I saw him on the 4th he said he would get the man to go down to Ampthill Park—I don't know where Taylor is now—I believe he is at the Cape—I was taken in custody for the robbery in the north on 7th April this year—it was for a burglary at Colonel Gandy's; I am to be tried for that at Appleby Assizes—I knew the footman at Mr. Lowther's—the prisoner gave me 3l. to go down to Sir John Holker's in Lancashire
to commit a robbery there; I did not go—that was in September last, after the Ampthill business—I went to him some time afterwards to ask him to give me the stones, I wanted to sell them—I afterwards went to his daughter; she refused to give them to me, because she said she had lent her father 5l. on them; she did not say she would not give them till I had paid the money he had lent me; I swear that—I saw her at Drayton Terrace.
Re-examined. The robbery at Mr. Biddulph's was planned by myself, Taylor, and Hewson—Taylor and I committed it, and the proceeds were divided between Hewson, myself, and Taylor—that robbery took place in October, 1880; a month after this one.
FRANCIS BROWN . I live in Bedfordshire, and am a son of a farmer there—on Monday morning, 6th September, I found this dressing-case broken open in a ditch in a field about half a mile from Mr. Lowther's; I also found this small pendant—I took them home, and they were afterwards given to Mr. James—I also found a small brooch in a little case.
GEORGE JAMES . I am superintendent of police in Bedfordshire—on Sunday night, 5th September, I received information of this robbery at Mr. Lowther's; I went and examined the place; there, were no marks of violence; it had been entered by the door—this dressing-case, pendant, and brooch were given to me by the last witness.
ANN BYCROFT , I live at 100, Tavistock Street, Bedford—on a Sunday night in September I went to bed about 9 o'clock, and between 11 and 12 I was knocked up by Joseph Taylor, who married my sister; another man was with him; that man only remained a short time; Taylor remained all night and left next morning after breakfast—I don't know the other man; I only saw him for a very short time.
HENRY MARSHALL (Police Inspector). On Monday, 2nd May, I went with Inspector Dowdell, and got a search warrant from Bow Street Police-court to search 7, Drayton Terrace, South Kensington—it is a lodging-house kept by the prisoner and his daughter; she takes charge of the house; the prisoner lives at 29, Hogarth Road—on 3rd May I went to 7, Drayton Terrace, with Mr. Lowther, saw the prisoner's daughter there, and had a long conversation with her; I made a search, but found nothing—in consequence of what she said to me I went with her to No. 6, South Parade, Trafalgar Square, Fulham Road, where she handed me a bag from a chest of drawers standing in the front room; it contained this brooch with some of the stones knocked out, this little pendant, and these two small pieces of jewellery containing diamonds, and 92 stones; they were in this little box—I showed the things to Mr. Lowther, and he identified them—I then went with the daughter to the Kensington Police-station, where the prisoner was, and in his presence I said to her "I want you to account for how you got these stones in your possession and this brooch;" I produced them all—she said "I got them from my father"—he said "Yes, and I got them from Hopkinson; I gave him either 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7l. for them"—I had seen Hewson about three hours before on that day at his own house, 29, Hogarth Road—I made inquiry of him about Hopkinson; he said he knew nothing of him; he had told me that before; I had seen him several times before, and on one occasion he told me that he simply knew him as a servant out of place, and that he had employed him to dean windows—I asked him several times if he had received property from him, and he said he
had never received a thing of any sort—after the conversation at the station with the daughter I said to him "This does not correspond with what you have said"—he said" No, I have been a fool; I ought to have told you the truth at first"—I think on one occasion he told me that he had sent Hopkinson out waiting somewhere.
Cross-examined. He did not tell me that he had lent him money—the daughter gave me this case with the stones in it—I think the prisoner's wife and family reside at Hogarth Road and the daughter at Drayton Terrace—I have made inquiries about Hewson, and have found out a good deal about him; he was in the employment of Sir Thomas Bernard, a very aged gentleman; Hewson was butler there and his wife housekeeper; that was before he took the hotel; I also found that he had been at Sir John Hartop's, 23, Eaton Square, and at Lord Gardiner's—I did not hear a favourable account of him from all those I went to—Sir John Hartop charged him with stealing his brandy, and he was acquitted at the Surrey Sessions; Sir Thomas Bernard told me he had got money from him, and Lord Gardiner said he believed he was concerned in a burglary in his house.
JOHN DOWDELL (Police Inspector). I obtained a warrant on 2nd May to search the prisoner's house, 29, Hogarth Road—I saw him there, and told him who I was and what I had come for; I said that a statement had been made by Hopkinson that he had some stones in his possession, and had sold them or given them to his daughter; I told him they had been stolen from the Honourable William Lowther; he said "I have never had any stones, I never gave any to my daughter, and I know nothing about it"—I asked him if he knew a man named Joseph Taylor—he said "Yes, very well"—I asked him if Taylor and Hopkinson had been in the habit of coming to his house; he said they had occasionally—later in the day I told him that he would be charged with Hopkinson and Taylor with receiving this brooch and stones knowing them to be stolen—he said he knew nothing about it.
CAROLINE SMITH . I went into the prisoner's service at 29, Hogarth Road, on 20th December last, and remained there till 26th March in the present year—I have seen Hopkinson there now and again, and Taylor; they used to visit my master.
THE HONOURABLE WILLIAM LOWTHER . I live at Lowther Lodge, Kensington, and also at Ampthill Park, Bedfordshire—the diamond brooch and the stones produced are my property—on 5th September Mrs. Lowther had a quantity of jewellery at Ampthill Park of the value of about 2,000l.—this is Mrs. Lowther's dressing-case, in which it was kept.
Cross-examined. This is a very small portion of what we lost—some of the things were paste, but there is a sentimental value attached to them—we have not recovered anything valuable—I have no doubt about the brooch; I have known it for many years, and also the pendant.
GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.
living at 38, Rawlings Street, Chelsea—I know the prisoner—at that time he was a servant out of place—he told me that he had seen a man of the name of Quelch, and we were to go down and see him, that he lived near Earl's Court Station, that he knew of some place to break into to steal a dressing-case—I went with him to Earl's Court Station, and met Quelch there, and we and Quelch went to Mr. Cook's in Cromwell Road, at the corner of Laxton Gardens—Quelch pointed out a room as Mr. Cook's dressing-room, and said the dressing-case would be on the table, and there would be likely to be a lot of money and jewellery in it—he pointed out the area-door, and told me the way to go upstairs into the room—I think he said he had been accustomed to wait there—about two days after, on the Friday, I and the prisoner met again in the Brompton Road, and an arrangement was made for the thing to come off—we bought a chisel in Titchfield Street, the prisoner paid for it 1s., I believe—we went to a public-house at Earl's Court, and remained there till about 12 at night, and then went to Mr. Cook's house—I got over the area-gate, and over the door, and down to the back door; I cut a hole through the panel of the door with a knife—the prisoner was there while I cut it—I put my arm through the hole, put down the chain, opened the door, and went through—the prisoner was outside—I went upstairs, found the dressing-case, and brought it down into the dining-room, broke it open with the chisel, and took the jewellery and the silver fittings, packed them in a cloth, and carried them out—I saw the prisoner in Cromwell Road, and said I had got the stuff out of the dressing-case, but there was not much—we then went to a public-house at Notting Hill and waited till it opened—we remained there about two hours alter it was opened—I then went into the City to a man named Cross, a working jeweller in Columbia Market—he was not at home—I then tried to pawn one of the pins, but was not able—I brought the whole lot back to the West End, and left it with the landlord at a public-house in a little street leading out of Sloane Street, in a brown-paper parcel—on the following Monday I got it back from the landlord—the prisoner joined me at Knightsbridge at 10 that morning and we went to the City together—I pawned one of the plain rings in the City Road—the prisoner waited outside—I got 1l. or 1l. 5s. for it—we then went to Cross's—I went in while the prisoner waited at a public-house—Cross took out some of the stones to disfigure it and to make it ready for melting—I and Cross then joined the prisoner, and we went to Lever Street and found a man named Haslar, and we all four went to Anthony's, in Helmet Row—I waited outside while Haslar went in with the settings—he came out and said he had got 14l., I think—he handed the money to me—I gave him 10s. for his trouble, and I gave Cross 10s.—we then all four went to a public-house near Aldersgate Street Station—I had kept a platina and gold albert chain, and Cross said it could be gilded over to make it all appear gold, and he took me to a man in Spencer Street, Goswell Road—I waited close by while he did it, this is it; it took an hour and a half or two hours; I paid him 2s. for it—the prisoner and I then went down Aidersgate Street, and he took the chain and pawned it for 3l. 10s.—he gave me the money, we divided it afterwards—I was with the prisoner some time afterwards, when he gave this monogram ring to a man named Dwyer to pawn for 10s., he gave the ticket to Slade—I redeemed the albert chain, and repawned it at Harrison's, in Aldersgate Street, for 4l.—the
other things were melted down by Anthony—I afterwards saw Quelch in the prisoner's presence, and gave him his share.
Prisoner. Everything he has said is untrue.
JAMES JOSEPH CROSS . I am a watchmaker, of 124, Columbia Road, Hackney—I remember Hopkinson coming to my house with some things to be broken up, including a pair of spectacles—I went with him and met the prisoner, and we went to Clerkenwell—Hopkinson had a gold and platina chain—I told him he could get it gilded at Mr. Swift's, near Percival Street—he went and got it done—I was in a public-house—ho brought it back and gave me 5s.
THOMAS SWIFT . I am a gilder in Percival Street—some time ago, it may have been in February, a gold and platina chain like this was brought to me to be gilded—I don't know who brought it, I charged 2s.
OWEN LE MARCHANT . I am assistant to Mr. Bowman, pawnbroker, 70, Goswell Road—on 14th February a gold and platina chain was pledged by the prisoner for 3l. 10s. in the name of George Price, 36, Columbia Road, Hackney—it was redeemed the same evening or next day—the prisoner signed the contract book in my presence—to the best of my belief he is the man.
JOHN PRESTON . I am assistant to Mr. Harrison, pawnbroker, 41, Aldersgate Street—I produce this albert chain pledged for 4l. on 15th February, I can't say by whom, in the name of George Clark, and a horseshoe pin on 17th February for 5s. in the same name, both had been regilt.
JAMES DWYER . I am a carpenter, of 13, Oakley Terrace, Chelsea—I know the prisoner—I met him in Sloane Street three or four months back—I had not seen him for two years or more—we had several glasses together; he had no money and I treated him—he asked me to pawn a ring for him, something like this—I pawned it for 18s., and gave the first name and address that came into my head—I gave the prisoner the money and the ticket.
Cross-examined. Hopkinson was not there—I saw nothing of him.
JAMES DENBURY YOUNG . I am assistant to Mr. Gammon, pawnbroker, of 196, Sloane Street, Chelsea—on 8th March this ring was pledged by a man I cannot recognise, in the name of John Roberts, 8, James Street, for 10s.—this is the ticket I gave.
JAMES EDGAR . I am a dealer in curiosities, of 57, Goldney Road, Harrow Road—on the 25th March I gave the prisoner into custody on another charge—I accompanied him from Walton Street Station to Kensington; on the way I saw some pieces of pawn-tickets fall from his hand; I picked them up and gave them to the police—I walked back and found several more pieces near the grating; I gave them to the policeman.
JOHN WINDSOR (Police Sergeant). On 25th March I was with Mr. Edgar when the prisoner was in custody—I saw the pieces of pawn-tickets; I picked them up—Mr. Edgar picked up some—they have been put together and the pieces shown to Young—one of them relates to the ring pledged at Gammon's on 8th March.
HENRY JONES (Police Inspector T). On 24th May I found the prisoner at Shepherd's Bush—I said "I shall take you into custody for being concerned, with George Hopkinson, in breaking and entering Mr. Cook's premises, in Cromwell Road, and stealing a quantity of jewellery, value
200l."—he said "I know nothing about it; this is a pretty fine game, all through being seen with those fellows"—he said "Is Hewson coming up to-day?"—I said "Yes"—Hewson at that time was under remand for the case that has just been tried—he said" Hopkinson too?"—I said "No"—he said "He has made a fine mess of it"—when the charge was read over he said nothing—I have looked after Quelch and Haslar—I know Anthony's shop.
THOMAS WILLIAM COOK . I live at 162, Cromwell Road, Kensington—on Friday, 11th February, I was the last up—I went to bed about 12 o'clock—next morning, a little before 6 o'clock, the maid servants spoke to me; I came down and found my place had been broken into—my dressing room is on the first floor, looking on to Saxton. Gardens—my dressing case had been removed from there into the dining room and broken open, and jewellery worth about 150l. taken out, among other things an Albert gold and platina chain, a monogram ring, a plain gold ring, a pin, and other articles—I recognise these produced—a man named Quelch had been in my service five or six months as butler—he was discharged in March, 1879—I do not know the prisoner or Hopkinson.
Prisoner's Defence. I am perfectly innocent. This man Hopkinson stole my clothes and things and I told him I should give him in charge. The ring I bought of a man who I met one day in fall Mall. I know nothing of the robbery; I was always at home with my wife and family, and never had a stain on my character.
GUILTY.*— Five years' Penal Servitude.
596. GEORGE MEAD (32), JOHN STONE (47), and HONOR STONE (44) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of John Mathison Fraser, and stealing two watches, four rings, and other goods; also feloniously receiving the same.
MESSRS. POLAND and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. BRAXTON HICKS appeared for Mead; MR. KEITH FBITH for John Stone; and MR. LEVEY for Honor Stone.
After the case had commenced, MR. HICKS stated that he could not resist a verdict. The Jury accordingly found
MEAD GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at Clerkenwell on 19th April, 1879.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . No evidence was offered against JOHN and HONOR STONE, who were acquitted. There was another indictment against the prisoners upon which no evidence was offered.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, June 28th 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
CHARTERS.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. DAVIS.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. HORACE AVORY. for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against BAXTER.— NOT GUILTY. MR. PURCELL defended Welch.
HENRY LEWIS . I am a commercial traveller, of South Moulton Street—on 4th June I was going home; I had had three glasses of port wine—I was surrounded by four men; the leader of the gang, Handley, struck me and I fell—my coat was buttoned, and the only thing they could see was a seal—I became unconscious and did not feel my pockets interfered with, but while on the ground I was kicked on my side, which seemed to paralyse me, and I feel it now—a policeman pulled me up—I saw three men making off and pointed them out to him—I missed a handkerchief and a pencil and knife from my trousers pocket, and my watch and chain and keys and 3l. 10s. in gold—they rifled five pockets—Welch was brought back and I identified him as soon as I saw him—on the following Monday week I picked out Doncaster and Handley from among others—I afterwards identified Doncaster.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether Welch kicked me; he did not strike me—I was very slightly under the influence of liquor.
JOSEPH DEATH (Policeman E R 48). I saw Lewis lying on his back on the pavement, drunk and insensible, and nobody near him, but he pointed to three men—I went after them; two ran away, and one, Welch, stopped, and I took him back to Lewis, who identified him—Lewis required assistance to the station—I saw a bump there on the back of his head—Welch said at the station that he did not know anything about it, he had been robbed himself—I received information, and on Monday, the 6th, I took Handley and Doncaster, and told them the charge; they both said that they knew nothing about it—on the 7th I took Baxter at his address, and he was called as a witness before the Magistrate—Welch was very drunk, but he was walking away with the assistance of the other two.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Lewis was not very drunk, but he appeared to have been drinking heavily—he did not complain to me of violence—I know Welch four years as a respectable hard-working lad, employed at Combe's brewery, where he can get a good character.
EDWARD BAXTER (The Prisoner). I am a bricklayer's labourer, and live with my father at 23, Compton Place—on Saturday night, 4th June, I was taking Welch home; he was helplessly drunk, and could not stand—he fell, and I assisted to pick him up—Lewis was leaning on his elbows on some railings, and I saw Handley's hand go across, and heard the breaking of a chain—I said to Welch "Will you come along with me?" he said "No," and I went away, leaving him on the ground, and Handley and a detective watching by him, close to the prosecutor—I went straight home.
Cross-examined by Handley: Doncaster had hold of him as well—I went home when I saw what you had done—I saw you put your hand out, and heard the chain break, and you told people on Sunday morning that you had it.
to go and have something to drink with them; I said "No"—they said "Come on, we have plenty of money;" they both said that—I afterwards saw them standing with a number of other men, and heard them say something about a lady's watch and 5l.
The COURT considered that there was no case to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted; MR. FRITH defended Burbridge.
ARTHUR SIMMONDS . My father is a grocer of 9, Robert Street—on 13th May I went to bed about 11 o'clock, leaving the house safely locked up and the cellar grating securely fastened—you can get from the area into the cellar, and thence into the shop—next morning I was aroused by the lodgers, went down, and found the shop in confusion and the things strewn about—some eggs and bacon were in the cellar which were in the shop when I went to bed—I saw this chisel there; it is not ours—my brother and I sleep in the house.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. There is a communication between the shop and the house—lodgers sleep in the house, but they do not go into the cellar.
ALFRED BALDING (Policeman C 136). I was on duty in Robert Street, and saw Mclvor run from Mr. Simmons's house—I followed him through Thomas Street, Duke Street, and. Robert Street, where I caught him, and asked him why he was running; he said "I was not running"—I. asked him what he was doing out at that time of morning; he said "I was going home"—I asked him where he lived; he said "23, George Street"—I said "This is a funny way to go home," and asked him how he trot that dirt on his coat and trousers; he said he had been in a row at a lodging-house—Earnshaw came up, and said that he had been loitering about—I saw him go into his own house, and then went back to Robert Street, and saw Burbridge; he ran up Robert Street across Duke Street, into 15, Brown Street, but I never overtook him—I went back, and saw the area grating broken open; I went down, and found some eggs and butter and a chisel—I knew Burbridge before, and am quite sure he is the man—I took Mclvor about 3 a.m., and told him the charge; he said "I shall say nothing"—I found Burbridge in bed at his house about 5 o'clock with his brother; he said "I was in bed about 12 o'clock or soon after," and his mother said the same.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Burbridge was 50 or 100 yards ahead of me when he saw me, and began to run instantly—that was between 2 and 3 a.m.—he was about a yard from the spot where the robbery took place—I know a man named Haines—he is not about the same size and age as the prisoner; he may be about the same height—his age may be 23—I don't know where he lives—Burbridge said that he was indoors at 12 o'clock or soon after—the Magistrate took bail for him in 20l.
Re-examined. I know Burbridge well, and am clear tint it was he.
Street just after 12 o'clock, and saw the two prisoners standing at the corner; I am certain of them—they went over to the other side of Oxford Street, and I watched them along Duke Street—I saw them again at 1.30 at the corner of Thomas Street and Robert Street, and on seeing me they both ran away—I went down Robert Street, and saw Balding talking to Mclvor—he asked me if he was the man I had seen before—I said "Yes"—he asked if I had any charge against him—I said "Not at present, but this is one of the two men who have been on my beat"—I afterwards saw Burbridge in Baldwin's custody—I searched him, and found a box with a lucifer in it—I went down the grating, and found two lucifers of the same kind there.
Cross-examined by Mclvor. I first saw you in Oxford Street just after 12 o'clock, and you crossed over to the division—I was watching your movements.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I was 10 yards from them at 1.30—I came round a corner, and they were almost opposite, and when they caught sight of me they ran.
The COURT considered that there was no case against the prisoners.
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM NORRIS . I am a cabinet-maker, of 12, Gibraltar Street, Bethnal Green—on 2nd May I was in Thrall Street, and the prisoner and a man not in custody knocked me down by a blow on my mouth—they tore my trousers, and took out 1s. and two or three pence—I struggled with the prisoner; he gave me three kicks while I was on the ground—I described him to a constable, and on the Tuesday I identified him at the station—he is the one who was on my right side.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Norris said that you kicked him, and assisted in robbing him—I don't recollect his saying that the other man knelt on him.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction at Worship Street in November 1880, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. M. WILLIAMS Prosecuted; and the evidence was interpreted to the prisoners.
GEORGE BLUNDELL . I am in Mr. Rossio's employ—on a Thursday evening at the end of May, I was sitting at the shop, and saw the prisoner at the corner of the street—they spoke to me in French—Dorsin said that I was in a very good place, and he would not mind having my place—I saw him again on Monday night, and he asked me if I was man enough to keep a secret—I said "Yes"—he asked me if I would do a robbery
of 200,000 francs—I said "I don't mind," and asked him how it was to be done—he said that they wanted to steal Mr. Rossio's things, and go away to America, and asked me how it could be done—I said that I would think of it, and tell him in the morning—he told me to take the manager out, and keep him out as long as I could—both the prisoners were present—he asked how much things were in the shop—I said that I could not tell him—he said "There is a glass case on the counter"—I told him the safe was too strong to break, and he could not have anything to do with it, but there was 300l. worth in the case, and the same in the window—he said "That will do for us to go to America, where we want to do what has never been done before," and that he would give me some cigars to give the manager, which would make him sleep, and there would be one for me to smoke which had not been prepared, and they asked me for a model of the key in soap—I told the manager next morning, and then told my master, and the police were communicated with—I said "Suppose the manager comes in, and he has a revolver?"—he said "Oh, we are not frightened of a revolver; we can give him a punch in the stomach and tie him up!" and he said that he had a bag to take the jewellery in—I met them, and took the key of the place—they said they could not do a job like that without having some drink, and while we were having it the key fell from Dorsin's hands.
Cross-examined by Lapie. Although you were together you never said anything but "Yes" and "No" all the time.
FREDERICK CHURCH (Police Sergeant 8). I was near Leicester Square, and saw the prisoners loitering near a cab-rank about 8 o'clock—Blundell came out of the shop, and crossed the street—Dorsin whistled, and Lapie came up Wardour Street, and they went to the corner of Mead's Court—on Wednesday 31st I saw Blundell come out and join the prisoners, who then left him, and went to St. Martin's Lane—I had had information from Mr. Rossio, and orders to watch the place—on the same night I saw Blundell in Coventry Street, where the prisoners joined him; they remained in conversation two or three minutes—Blundell handed them something, but I cannot say whether it was a key—I took Dorsin; he dropped the key of Mr. Rossio's shop, and Smith picked it up—I found on Dorsin an iron chisel, a knife, and this bag between his waistcoat and trousers—I acted under the inspector's orders in. not allowing them to get into the shop.
THOMAS BOWDEN (Policeman). On Wednesday, 1st June, about 9.30, I was passing Mr. Rossio's shop, Blundell was at the door, and I saw Mr. Rossio hand something to him, and he and the manager walked away—about half an hour afterwards the prisoners walked across the street, spoke to the boy, and went in the direction in which Mr. Rossio had gone—in about five or ten minutes they came back and followed the boy.
NEWMAN TURPIN (Police Inspector C). On Tuesday evening at 8 o'clock I saw Mr. Rossio and Blundell—on the Wednesday evening I gave the boy the key; the prisoners met him, and I caught hold of Lapie, and said "We are police officers, and arrest you for persuading the boy to rob his master"—a key fell from Dorsin—I found this bag on Lapie; he declined to give an address—when the charge was read he said "We incite him to rob! he came to us and told us to do it."
Cross-examined by Dorsin. I think Blundell was on your left when he
gave you the key—it was not the real key; I thought it was too risky to give that as there were thousand of pounds' worth of property in the shop—it is a low neighbourhood, and there are many narrow courts.
The Prisoners produced defences written in French, in which Lapie said that he found the bag the same day, and that it contained the chisel and some food, and that he did not meet Blundell, as had been arranged. Dorsin stated that the proposal to rob the shop was made by Blundell, who offered to take an impression of the lock, and take the only employee who slept there away and make him drunk and give him some drugged cigars, saying that there never would be a better opportunity, as his master had gone to a concert, and had given him the key to keep, and each was to take his share, and he would go to work just the same next day.
Witness for Dorsin.
EDGAR FRANK . On Tuesday evening, 31st May, Dorsin told me that George Blundell wanted to speak to me—on the Monday night we were five together, and George said "Be off, we don't want you"—on the same night George told me as an excuse for having spoken to them that he had to go with them on a pleasure party to the country which he had proposed.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
For other cases tried this day, see Essex and Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Watkin Williams.
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.
WALTER CROW (Policeman). On 11th June, about 5.10, I was on duty in Uxbridge Road, Shepherd's Bush, near the railway station, and saw the prisoner driving a two-wheeled cart towards me at the rate of about 12 miles an hour—I held up my hand, but he took no notice—a man was pushing a barrow under the railway arch, about five yards from the near side carriage-way, and going in the same direction as the prisoner; there was room for two vehicles to pass at the time, and the road was comparatively clear—the prisoner's wheel caught the man with the barrow on his back, knocked him down, and the wheel passed over his shoulder—the prisoner went on for about 20 yards before he stopped his horse—the cart was about 50 yards from me when I judged of the pace; the
reins were quite loose—I picked the man up, and then went to the prisoner, who was drunk—I said "You are drunk, and I shall take you to the station;" he was then standing in the road—he got up into his cart, and tried to drive away; I took him in custody—the deceased was going quite steadily, and tried to get out of the prisoner's way—I have ascertained that his name was William Planchette—I afterwards saw him dead.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was on the pavement—your horse was coming as fast as ever he could, trotting—your cart was fitted for hoops, but the hoops were not there; there were two parcels in it.
By the JURY. The deceased was quite sober—he was quite sensible when I picked him up—the prisoner was not urging the horse.
FRANCIS CHARLES PALMER . On 11th June I was on a visit at 18, Bloomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush; I was near the railway arch that day, and saw the prisoner driving a two-wheeled cart furiously, with a loose rein—I went into the post-office, and when I came out the occurrence had happened, and the prisoner was hanging on by the horse's head in the road, and the police were trying to take him off; he was drunk—I examined the deceased, and found no bones broken, but the wheel had passed over his abdomen—he was perfectly sensible and sober—I spoke to him for about five minutes; he told me he was in no pain—one witness stopped the prisoner's horse, or he would have driven away, and he got out and hung on to the snaffle, and the police had great difficulty in getting him off—he was drunk, and would have fallen if he had not held by the horse—I have been in the medical profession—I am perfectly satisfied he was drunk.
Cross-examined. You were sitting-loose on your seat, rolling about, and the horse was going at 12 miles an hour; he was evidently frightened—you were not urging him—I have ridden to hounds and in steeplechases, and am a pretty good judge of pace.
By the JURY. Twelve miles an hour is only a mile in five minutes—it was a light cob, about 15.1 or 15.2.
CHARLES HARBISON . I am a pianoforte hammer coverer—on 11th June I was coming from Shepherd's Bush Station, and saw a man driving a two-wheeled cart; his furious driving attracted my attention, and when I turned the corner, under the bridge, I found that an old man had been run over—a gentleman and a policeman picked him up; I laid hold of the horse, and told the driver to stop; he did so, and got out—he tried to get up into the cart again to drive away, but the policeman pulled him back—he was drunk.
Cross-examined. I did not give evidence before the Magistrate, I did before the Coroner—you were not driving off when I got there—you had a man with you; he got out and stood by the side of the horse, after running back to see if the man was injured—it was not you who went to see what was the matter; I am not confounding you with the other man.
WALTER CROW . (Re-examined.)There was another man in the cart, I did not think it necessary to mention that, as the prisoner was driving—the other man was sober; he is in the employ of the same firm as the prisoner was driving for—he was not called before the Coroner or Magistrate.
Saturday, 7th June, the deceased was brought there with a graze on each wrist—he complained of slight pain in his abdomen; I treated him for that, and let him go home—he came again next morning, suffering from acute pain in the abdomen; I admitted him, and he died next day—I made a post-mortem examination; the cause of death was peritonitis, due to perforation of the intestines—any blow on the stomach would cause that; a wheel passing over the stomach would cause the inflammation, and the perforation arose from the inflammation: that would accrue in that short time even to a person in perfectly good health—when he first came he was perfectly sober; I stripped him, examined him carefully, and found no mark—he did not complain of any local pain, but when he came at 10 on Sunday morning he said he had been very sick all night, and had acute pain in the lower part of his abdomen—he died within 48 hours of the accident.
WILLIAM HENRY PLANCHETT . I am a carpenter of 23, George Street, Latimer Road—the deceased was my father; he was a wood sawyer; his age was 67—my wife employed him to take home some laundry on Saturday afternoon, 11th June, and I saw him start between 4 and 5 o'clock—he enjoyed very good health; he was in his usual health, and quite sober—he was a hale and hearty man.
Prisoner's Defence. The only witness I have is the man who was riding with me, who belongs to the firm, but I have never seen him since. I had several parcels in the cart; the shaking of the cart shook one of them off, and I should have lost it if one of the passers-by had not called my attention to it. I went on, and was not aware that I had gone over the man till afterwards. My horse had been in harness since 11 a.m., and could not keep up a pace of 12 miles an hour at 10 minutes to 5 in the evening. I admit having had some drink, and as I had taken no food since breakfast it took more effect on me. The horse going his own pace would not go 11 or 12 miles an hour.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Three Months' Hard Labour.
WILLIAM WELLS . I am a carpenter, of 131, Cambridge Road, Kilburn—Briggs rented two rooms of me, and lived there with his father, mother, sister, and brother—his father was away on 5th of June, and the mother and sister occupied one room and the prisoner the other—twenty-three persons slept in the house that night—I occupied rooms under the prisoner—I was going to bed about 1 a.m., and heard a knocking at the door, as I thought; I went up to see what was the matter, and when I got on to the landing by Briggs's room the two prisoners were standing there with their backs to the wall; Briggs in his shirt only, and Ball in his shirt and trowsers—it is a six-feet landing—Briggs's room door was slightly open—I asked what was the matter, and one of them, Briggs I think, said, "The place is on fire," in a laughing manner, making fun of it—I saw smoke coming from the door, and crawled on my hands and knees to see if the window was closed, and found the under part of the bed, the palliasse, was on fire; there were no curtains; the top part of
the door was also on fire—I got some water—the prisoners did not assist me; in fact, they were in the way; they did not attempt to put the fire out, but I put it out with the assistance of the lodgers—I had never seen Ball before; he had no right in my house; I afterwards saw him down stairs, and asked him what right he had there; he said, "None;" I said he had better take himself off out of the place—about ten minutes after that I went out for a policeman, and met two policemen bringing Ball back without his coat, he having left my place—I charged both the prisoners with setting fire to my house—three boards under the bed were burnt almost through, and the door was burnt, and two skirts which were hanging on the door were partially burnt and on fire at the time—there was a washhand-stand between the bed and the door, which are 2 feet 6 inches apart when the door is open, so that the two fires could not have communicated—the prisoner's family had given notice to leave.
Cross-examined. I had not seen the prisoners that day—it was Mrs. Briggs's bed and bedding which were burnt, and her daughter's clothes—the prisoners seemed sober when they were charged.
HORATIO LOCK . I am a labourer, and lived in this house, on the second floor—I was awoke between twelve and one on Sunday morning by some one knocking and halloaing, "Ada! Ada! the place is on fire; that was Ball's voice, I believe, but I did not know him before—I ran up to Briggs's room in my shirt, and saw the prisoners both in their shirts—some dresses were on fire: I ran down and fetched a bucket and some water, and assisted to put the fire out.
Cross-examined. I don't know whether they had been drinking; they were both trembling, and they appeared to be frightened and stupefied—I had never seen Balls there.
Re-examined. I was also stupefied at first, but I came to my senses and helped to put the fire out.
EDWARD JOHN TRUST . I occupy two rooms on the second floor of this house—my wife awoke me—I went down and saw Briggs on the landing—the fire was out when I went into the room—I saw that the top panels of the door were burnt, and the bottom railing—I did not see Briggs that evening.
WILLIAM BENFOLD . I am an engineer in the Metropolitan Fire Brigade, and have been a fireman for twenty years—on 10th June, about 4 p.m., I inspected these premises, the bedding had then been cleared out and put on the leads; there was a box by the side of the bed which was very badly burnt; the fire tad gone round the whole of the bed underneath, and there is no doubt it commenced under the bed—it is an iron bedstead, but I could see that heat had been under it—the door was burnt very much, top and bottom; the fire was worse at the top, and had been done while the door was shut, but the fire at the bottom Lad been while it was open—there was nothing to connect the fire under the bed with the door, but the inside of the wash-hand-stand was scorched-thaw had been two distinct fires, and I have reason to believe that the fire under the bed was under way much longer than that on the door.
Cross-examined. A very large percentage of fires in the metropolis are from causes unascertained.
WILLIAM KERSEY . On Sunday morning, 5th June, about 1.30, I was in Kilburn, and saw Ball coming along in his shirt and trowsers; I asked him what was the matter, and he said he had come from a fire; I said,
"Where?" he said, "Cambridge Road;" I said, "You will have to come back with me;" we met Wells, and I said, "Do you know this man?" he said, "Yes, I believe he is the man who set my house on fire;" Ball made no answer; I went upstairs and found there had been two fires; the bedstead had been on fire, and the paint was scorched off—I saw some shavings from the palliasse—Briggs was in the passage: I fetched him up, and said, "Do you know anything about the fire" he said, "No, I did not know it was on fire until he woke me," alluding to Ball—Ball was sober, but Briggs had been drinking—I took them to the station, and then returned and examined the room; I found a small piece of candle in a candlestick, near the head of the bed; there was furniture on which it could be put, but the things had been removed then—there was no gas in the room—I found a box of matches and two knives on Ball, and this cigar-holder—there was a grate, but there were no signs of a fire in it.
JOHN MOLONY (Police Inspector). I entered the charge against the prisoners, and before reading it over, Briggs said, "May I make a remark?" I said, "Yes;" he said, "I don't know anything at all about it, I was lying on the bed when he called me" (meaning Ball)—Ball was sober, but Briggs was not.
Witness for the Defence.
ADA BRIGGS . I am Briggs's sister—I met him and Ball on the afternoon of 4th June at the Carlton Bridge—we stopped a quarter of an hour in a public-house, and then I left them together—I was not gone long—I came back and met Ball by himself—he was sober—he came home with me—it was then about 11.30—I went into our house and left him lying on the doorstep—I said, "Joe, get up; you will get yourself into trouble "—he did not seem to move, and I said, "You had better lie aside of Bill," that is my brother—he came in and went into Bill's room, that is the room in which the fire occurred—I lit a candle and left it on the box by the side of the bed—he had laid down on the bed in his clothes—I then went down to a person in the parlour, stopped there a little while, and my brother William came in—he had had some drink—he went into his own room, and I went into my room, and banged the door—my brother said, "You make as much noise as 40 people"—I went in and said no more'—I went to bed—the next thing I heard was somebody at the door knocking, and saying, "Ada, Ada, get up, the room is on fire"—I don't know whose voice it was—I ran on to the flat, and went to the door of the room, but did not go in at first—I did not see the candle which I had left on the box till next morning, it was then on the floor—the mattress, which was a shavings one, was utterly ruined—I heard Mr. Wells tell Ball to leave the house.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Ball appeared to be sober, but he had had some drink—he is a friend of mine—I had known him some time, and called him by his Christian name—he was not in the habit of coming there to visit me—I never knew him stop there before—when I told him he had better go and lie by the side of Bill, Bill was not there, he came in afterwards—the last I saw of Ball he was on the bed in his clothes—my brother came home between 12 o'clock and half-past, and I was roused by the cry of "Fire!" soon after 1—we were going to leave the premises on the Wednesday week following this Saturday—we had given noticed.
Re-examined. My brother had no reason for destroying our bed—we are still living there.
NOT GUILTY .
607. ROBERT WITHEY (18) , Feloniously setting fire to a shop and warehouse belonging to William Clements, with intent to injure him. MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. CUNNINGHAM Defended. FRANK WEBSTER . I am potman and waiter at Mr. Bevan's, the Bull's Head, Wood Street, adjoining the prosecutor's premises—on Saturday, 11th June, about 7.5 p.m., I was talking to a friend outside the prosecutor's premises, and saw the railing outside his shop being pushed back by the prisoner from the inside—I said, "What the devil are you doing down there?"—he said, "Work"—I went to the door and found that the padlock was on—I said, "Do your people allow you to work with the place locked up?"—only the window where he was open, the rest were closed—he fastened the gate, closed the window, and said, "Don't say anything about it; I have only gone down for a book"—I told my master, who communicated with the police, and I stayed there till two constables came, and showed them where the prisoner had come out—they then entered the premises.
Cross-examined. He had opened a window in the area to get out from the basement—it is the bottom floor—I did not see him open the window, but I saw him pushing the railing open—the constables got in the same way.
GEORGE CAULOEY (Police Inspector). Webster spoke to me, and I went to 96, Wood Street—I got through a window in the basement, near which I found a T gas-bracket alight, forced under a shelf; one end of the bracket had been tilted up, which-let the other end down alight under the shelf; this (produced) is a piece of the shelf, it was alight; I turned the jet out and extinguished the shelf; I examined the premises, and at the back of the shop near the lift I found another gas T bracket alight, and forced in the same way under the woodwork, which was alight, the other end being tilted up—there were two fires, both caused by the tilting of those two brackets, and there was also some paper alight—I took the prisoner on Monday morning between 12 and 1 o'clock, and told him I should charge him with breaking out of the warehouse of his master, 96, Wood Street, between 7 and 8 on Saturday evening—he said, "I was not there"—I said, "You will be further charged with setting fire to the warehouse, with forcing a gas bracket under a shelf, and another against a partition"—he said, "I went into the warehouse to get a pocket-book for a mate of mine, who asked me to get him one"—I said, "You will be further charged with stealing 17s. worth of postage stamps, and about 2s. of petty cash from the drawers in the warehouse"—he said, "No; I never stole them"—he then made a statement to me, I reduced it to writing, and he signed it; I offered him no inducement to make it, nor did I threaten him—the gas bracket could not possibly have been in its natural place in the state in which I found it—I did not give him any caution; I should have done so if he had not known who I was; but he had been in custody some time then; this is the statement, it is in my writing: "Moor Lane Policestation, 13th June, 1881. Statement of Robert Withey, charged with breaking out of a warehouse and setting fire to it at 96, Wood Street: 'I went up to the top of the house after some glue, when I returned from
the top I went on to the second-floor landing, and was there when the street door was closed; I went up there about 40 minutes after 1 on Saturday last, and came down the lift about 40 minutes past 6; I turned the gas on at the meter, and afterwards lit the gas in the shop and pushed the burner against the shelf; I can't think what made me do it, and I am now very sorry for what I have done. (signed) R. Withey.' Read to the prisoner, who says it is true. J. Foulger."
Cross-examined. My name was signed to that at the police-court—the Magistrate's Clerk told me to do so—after I had told the prisoner the charge his mother told him to tell the truth, and he said "I did come out of the basement; I went in to get a pocket-book for a mate of mine"—he made no statement till I told him he would be charged with stealing the stamps—he then said "No, I did not," and made that statement—that was when he was before the Magistrate—nothing is said in this written statement about stealing the stamps; we did not know that there had been any robbery of stamps at first, but I stated it in my evidence—the gas-burner was close under the shelf, pressing up into the hole, and the gas was fully turned on; the wood was actually blazing, and a white flame was curling round the shelf—I went in about 8 o'clock, and if the prisoner came out at 6.55 the gas must have been touching the wood all that time—if the jet was perfectly true and the shelf perfectly true the shelf would have stopped the hole in the jet—I put down the prisoner's statement in pencil, and afterwards in ink—I then read it to him, and asked if he could read it; he said "No"—I destroyed the pencil writing when the prisoner said that the ink writing was correct—it was the ink document which I read to him; I am positive of that—ten minutes might have elapsed before I wrote it out in ink; I went into the office to do so—I made the pencil writing in the prisoner's cell—I had some paper in a pocket-book—I have not got my pocket-book here; I carry it with me when I am on duty—the pencil writing was not so plain as the one in ink, but it could be read—I transcribed it word for word, and I wrote the pencil one word for word as he said it—I did not tear a leaf out of my book; it was a piece of paper which I had in it—I took the prisoner at 10, Ship and Mermaid Court, Bermondsey—he lives there with his widowed mother—my book contained no paper; it is simply a case to carry reports in; it is the inside of a banker's book torn out.
Re-examined. This is the ink document I wrote; it was signed by the prisoner in my presence—he had not signed the pencil writing—as a rule I carry some pieces of paper, and keep them for this very purpose. (The witness was directed to send for the book.) Another constable was with me in the prisoner's cell when he made this confession—I went there to tell him the further charge about the stamps, as he had been before the Magistrate—I was not sent for.
JOHN ROBERT FOULGER (City Police Inspector). On Monday, 13th January, about 11.30, Cauldry brought me this statement in ink, signed by the prisoner—I sent for the prisoner, showed it to him, asked him if he understood it, and whether he wished it to be understood that it was his voluntary statement—he said "Yes"—I said "Are the contents of it true?" he said "Yes"—I held it to him and said "Is this your signature?" he said "Yes"—I said "Can you give any reason for committing such a wicked act?" he said "I cannot; I cannot tell what
made me do it"—I examined the premises, and saw the two brackets; they were not forced under the shelf then, as the sergeant had put the lights out—the proper height of the arm of the gas-bracket is three or four inches above the shelf; it could not touch the shelf in its natural position—I tried it by lifting one end, which lowered the other, and it then went under the shelf, and the leverage kept it very tight, so that the gas could scarcely escape—as I bent it there was no elastic force; it was rigid—the weight of the arm in pressing? up would move the other end—it moves in a ball and socket joint at the ceiling. (One arm of the gas-bracket was here brought into Court; the burner was not upright, but was inserted at an angle.)I have been within a few months of 40 years in the City Police, and have risen up to my present position—I-tried the bracket on the Saturday, and it pressed very tightly under the shelf.
Cross-examined. I have been in Court while Cauldry gave his evidence—I was not ordered out—I did not tell the Magistrate as to the position in which I found these things; I was not asked—the constable had not taken down the fittings when I saw them; he only shifted them, and they fell into their proper places—I found that the jet would reach the burning wood—I tilted the burner against the partition, and I know that it touched the same place, because there were marks of fire there—I did not advise Cauldry to "tear up the pencil writing, but I saw the pieces with writing on them—I thought it my duty to ask the prisoner if he understood the statement; if he had altered his mind, and said "No," I should have torn the document up as worth nothing, although the constable was ready to swear that the prisoner signed it—if he had said that he never signed it at all I should have torn it up, and assumed that the officer misled me—if he had said that it was not his wish that it should be understood as his voluntary statement I should not have given it in, but should have torn it up—I did not caution him that it might be used against him; I did not consider it necessary—I did not ask him if he knew the meaning of the word voluntary—I asked him a second time, because I wished to give him an opportunity of answering in what way he pleased.
WILLIAM CUSHNEE (City Policeman). On 11th June I accompanied Cauldry to 96, Wood Street—I got in at the window, and found a gas burner alight in front of the warehouse, and forced under a shelf which was burning; I found another gas bracket alight at the back of the shop, and against a wooden shelf which was on fire—I put it out.
Cross-examined. I was in Court while Cauldry was examined—the wood was actually blazing when I went in, but it was a very small blaze—I heard Cauldry say that the gas was full on.
"WILLIAM ELLIS LINDSAY . I have been assistant to Messrs. Clements and Newling, stationers, for 25 years; I have been for the last 12 years in the habit of locking up the place—they occupy the whole premises except the second floor, which is tenanted by Stevens and Cannon—the business shop and counting-house are in my charge—I am accustomed to see that the gas is turned out—I close the outer door, and keep the key—on Saturday, 11th June, I locked up as usual, assisted by Joyce, and apparently all hands had left the premises—no gas was alight—I told the assistant-packer to turn it off at the main—the gas brackets were in their proper positions when I left, and none of them were alight—this shelf was not burning when I left.
Cross-examined. I did not fasten the basement myself—the meter is in the basement above the sink—it is more than a 10-light meter.
Cross-examined. I did not see the basement closed, but I gave instructions—I saw the place closed outside.
HENRY HOLLAND . I am an errand boy in the prosecutor's employ—about 11.30 on 17th June I saw the prisoner down in the basement—he asked whether a truck was wanted—I saw him go upstairs through the shop—I did not see him again that day—Mr. Stowe told me to fasten the window, and I fastened it all right.
GEORGE JOYCE . I am general assistant to the prosecutor—prior to the 11th June postage-stamps were kept in a drawer at the back of the shop, which was kept locked, and the Key hung up close by—on 11th June I went to the drawer, and took out 7s. worth of stamps from a set of 1l., locked the drawer, and hung the key up—on the Monday morning I found the key hanging there, but missed 17s. worth of stamps.
Cross-examined. I left on the Saturday about 2.40—the upstairs places were shut up shortly before 2 o'clock, but persons would have a right to to be downstairs; people had a right to be in the shop till 2.40—the locker up was there, and Stowe, and Holland, and the errand boy—I left with the locker up, leaving nobody behind that I saw.
WILLIAM BULLWORTHY . I am assistant to the prosecutor—money was kept in this desk as well as stamps—I left at 2 o'clock on 11th June, leaving a half-sovereign, 2s. 6d., and 6d. in the desk, which was all gone on the Monday morning.
THOMAS STOWE (Re-examined). Before I left on the 11th, I told the boy Holland to fasten the basement window, and saw him jump down and do so—it is only in that way that the gate railings under the shop can be opened; that window leads to the basement from the street—there are railings first of all, and half a foot behind the railings there is a window which you can slide down.
Cross-examined. I did not state this before because I was not asked—you must open the window first; there is an iron railing gate which you have to open, and a window behind it, and you go through the window into the house; it slides down—that is the regular way in for goods.
GEORGE CAULDRY (Re-examined). This is my book (produced)—I do not have a book with a pencil—if I wanted to take a cabman's number I have little slips of paper here which I should take out. The Prisoner received a good character. NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
609. THOMAS KINGSFORD BOHN* (25) to six indictments for stealing 100l. of Charlotte Mary Tombs, his mistress, and forging endorsements on cheques and bills to the amount of 100l. 11s. 10d., and to a conviction of felony at this Court in April, 1878.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five years Penal Servitude. And
610. SARAH alias MARIANNE WILKES (30) and ANNEPARKER (33) to unlawfully conspiring together to deceive John Tanner, and obtain a situation for the said Sarah Wilkes as servant to the said John Tanner. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] PARKER.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. WILKES.— Six Month' Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BESLEY and GILL Prosecuted.
REGINALD HASTINGS . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Josiah Firth and Co., woollen manufacturers, at Ackmandyke, in Yorkshire—I am one of the firm—the prisoner was for some years employed by the late firm of Edward Firth and Sons—his connection with the firm ceased about eight years ago—in January this year I received some letters from him in reference to the sale of goods on commission—the first was on 7th January—I received one on 20th January, and I sent three rugs value 1l. 5s. 9d.—these are the letters produced—I sent an invoice with the value opposite—I sent the goods by the Great Northern Railway—I got this letter on 31st January (asking how many of the 8s. 6d. rugs the firm had, and what was the lowest they would take to clear them)—I got another from the prisoner saying that McCarthy could do with 200 rugs—in consequence of that I sent him on 7th February, by the Great Northern Railway, 50 rugs value 19l. 9s., consigned to F. McCarthy, 50, Milton Street, Fore Street—I sent this invoice by post the same day—it came back a few days after endorsed "Not ordered"—on 9th February I received this letter referring to Messrs. Noble and Co.—I had never heard of them before—I believed the goods I sent to McCarthy to be at the Railway Station—I afterwards communicated with Mr. H. Richardson, of 104, Southgate Road—we did not know him—we would not have parted with our goods to him without cash—we communicated with him to that effect—I received this letter on 19th February, from F. McCarthy (asking for a correct invoice)—we had sent him an invoice for 100 rugs—Richardson did not send any money, consequently we would not deliver to him—we sent samples of rugs to Noble and Co. value about 5l.—about that time a communication was received from Messrs. Hewitt and Co., job masters—I was in the meantime in communication with the Great Northern Railway Company—this order was shown to me by the Company—it is the prisoner's writing: "29, Carter Lane, E. Great Northern Railway Goods Department. Be good enough to send bale returned by Mr. McCarthy to Richardson and Co. Josiah Firth and Co., A. C. C." The prisoner had no authority to give such an order, nor to sign for our firm—I had no knowledge that he had done so till afterwards—at this time our firm had no London office—the prisoner was not authorised to pledge the authority of the firm—he had never asked for it in reference to hiring
a brougham—he wished to do so but was not allowed—we received orders from him which we did not execute—amongst them, one from 0. Noble and Co., of 102, Worship Street—we made inquiries about that firm, and in result refused to part with our goods without cash—the order amounted to about 200l.—the samples were "not returned to us—when we parted with those samples we believed Noble and Co. were a respectable firm—after I saw the order signed by the prisoner I swore an information—the prisoner was arrested—I was then making inquiries about Richardson—after the prisoner was in custody we received a communication from Richardson enclosing bank notes for 20l., and 1s. 6d. in postage stamps—that was in May—this is the order for the samples.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. No other person represented Josiah Firth and Son in London—manufacturers sometimes send their bales' to the depots in London for convenience—it is not usual for the agent in London to sign for the firm without special authority, when goods are lying at the station—I sign for the firm, but I have instructions—you would sign as agent only—you could have the name printed on—I used the expression "Our Mr. Coutts" in a letter I wrote—I meant "Our agent"—we took the letter stating McCarthy could do with "about 200 rugs "as an order—you mentioned the price—we sent 50 as an instalment—we sent an invoice for 50 after the invoice for 100—you wrote for a correct invoice—I wrote accepting the order—I do not think you had time to write and stop the rugs after the order was executed—there would have been a discount within six months from date of the invoice—Richardson remitted for the rugs on 7th May—you advised ub to credit McCarthy and debit Richardson—I am not aware of any references being sent with the order—if there are no references the firm would usually make their own inquiries, and decide as to giving credit—you advised us that Noble and Co. would communicate with us direct—your samples would be too heavy for a man to carry, it would be necessary to have a conveyance—you wrote for a remittance as you could not afford to pay the expenses out of your own pocket—you came down to Ackmandyke—I was not present when you saw Mr. Firth—he informed me that you—had no authority to sign for the firm.
CHARLES HENRY GILSTHORPE . I am a clerk in the Inwards Goods Department, King's Cross—I have the charge of all goods declined to be received by the consignees—the bale marked C and a diamond and 1593 came to my notice on 8th February—it was returned from Mr. McCarthy on 9th February at 10 a.m.—the prisoner came about that time—he said "You have a bale here refused by Mr. McCarthy, of 50 Milton Street, Fore Street, from Ackmandyke"—I referred to the book, and finding X had, and as he gave the marks and number, I said "Yes"—he said "I want that bale delivered to Mr. Richardson, of 104, Southgate Road, Islington"—I asked him who he was; he produced cards with the name of Josiah Firth on them—I had advised. Mr. McCarthy that the goods were lying at the station at his expense, and I said "I want the advice from McCarthy, also a note transferring the goods back, from the consignor's order"—he said he would go and get that, as he wanted the goods very important, and he went away—he brought the advice note next morning, and this order was written—in consequence of that I caused the goods to be entered to this, address, H. Richardson, 104, Southgate Road—he said "I want these goods delivered at once; they are wanted
for shipment," and I went to find the carman who goes with the first delivery about that time, so that I could put the address on, and he followed me pressing the importance of it, and I told him I would do my utmost to get it out at once—the entry of the change of name appears in my book.
Cross-examined. On my oath you told me the goods were for shipping—I have not heard of goods packed in canvas for shipment, but it is not for me to judge—I am simply a servant of the company, and do my duty—the weather was severe at the time—I did not know the goods were railway wrappers, but if so they would be wanted to be sold immediately.
HEPZTBAH MAJOR I am the wife of Thomas Major, of 104, Southgate Road, Kingsland—Mr. Richardson and his wife occupied the front parlour and a bedroom; they were private lodgings at 12s. a week; no business is done there—they had no children—the prisoner came there almost every day; he seemed intimate with Richardson—I remember the bale of rugs being delivered by the railway carman on 10th February—the prisoner was there and Mrs. Richardson, but not Mr. Richardson—I did not see who signed the receipt for the delivery—the bales were taken upstairs and piled up in the bedroom—they disappeared a few at a time—the prisoner and Richardson were intimate about a month—I saw a man with a long dark beard come, Masters—I have seen a brougham there, and I have seen Mr. Counts and Mr. Masters go out frequently in the morning—some samples of carpets came there; I then interfered, and would not allow it—I saw Coutts take them away—I last saw Coutts there on the Thursday before Good Friday—Richardson gave us a week's notice and left the Saturday after Easter—they are nearly all private houses in Southgate Road.
Cross-examined. The carpets were there two nights—I do not know when you came; I did not always answer the door—I only saw you one morning in the brougham—Richardson did not tell me he had some property—I did not see you take the things away.
By the JURY We did not like the sight of the carpets in our bedroom, and my husband said he would not allow it.
FRANCIS MCCARTHY I am a woolens merchant of 50, Milton Street, City—I knew the prisoner when he was employed by Edwin Firth and Co. many years ago—on 20th January he called upon me and showed me some samples of rugs; he asked me to buy some—I said "I cannot buy at present; I can buy a hundred or two occasionally"—the samples lay on the counter for a few days and he called; they were returned to him—on 8th February a bale of rugs was delivered by the Great Northern Railway; I returned them, as I had not ordered them—he called and I said "Coutts, you sent me some rugs; I did not order them"—he said "Well, I did not order them; I only suggested you could buy; but give me an order to remove them"—I said "No, I won't; if you take them from the railway it must be on behalf of Josiah Firth"—I gave him an order on behalf of Josiah Firth—I did not know Richardson, of Southgate Road—I said nothing about selling to a customer of mine—I had returned the invoice.
Cross-examined. I had had goods previously—I always found you honest—the order was the usual order—you told me you had a customer you could sell them to—you said it was stupid to have sent the goods.
to make inquiries into this matter—a warrant was issued to apprehend the prisoner—I went to the Southgate Road and saw the place—I afterwards saw the prisoner at King's Cross—I told him a warrant had been issued against him for obtaining a truss of rugs by false pretences—he said "McCarthy has ordered the goods; he cancelled his order and I transferred the goods to Richardson, at 104, Southgate Road; Richardson was in want of money at the time; he either sold them or pawned them, I don't know which. He has got plenty of money now, if you go to him he will pay for them"—I handed him over to a constable.
Cross-examined. The officer who met you in the City is not here—I am not aware that he called at Richardson's—he went with me after you were in custody—he never told me he had seen Richardson—he would report to me—I asked you nothing.
Re-examined I made every effort to find Richardson but was unable.
ALBERT ROBINSON (Policeman G 254). I took the prisoner on a warrant—he said "All right, I shall lick the lot of them"—when the warrant was read to him at the station, he said "All right, I shall go through four-in-hand, as the money is there if they like to fetch it."
Cross-examined. I met you at a public-house with a detective—you had been drinking.
JOSIAH FIRTH . I am the only partner in the firm of Josiah Firth and Co.—the prisoner formerly represented the old firm of Josiah Firth and Co., as a traveler—this year I received a communication from him—I employed him as traveler on commission, and he was to pay his own expenses—I gave him no authority to hire a brougham—he mentioned after the engagement about the expenses, but we refused to alter the arrangement—I do not know that a vehicle was mentioned—I gave him no authority to sign in the name of the firm—I would not have parted with my goods to Richardson without cash—I got the money after the prisoner was in custody—the sale was upon special terms, cash was to be paid beforehand and the balance in three months—our terms are 2 1/2 per cent, cash in a month, a four months' bill, or credit for five months from date of invoice—I had done business with McCarthy before.
Cross-examined. You met me at Mr. Allen's, in Carter Lane, London, by accident—I recollect your partner—my nephew and you then represented our firm in London—we have employed travelers on similar terms before in the retail—we sent an invoice to Richardson; we do not send a statement of account—you saw me at Ackmandyke after the transfer—we did not know the bale was transferred—I did not tell you in my room that McCarthy was no account and I did not care a rush about his account.
By MR. GILL. I had seen the prisoner about twelve months before this affair—I lost sight of him for about a year, but I have spoken to him at intervals.
The prisoner in his defense stated that he acted in the usual way of an agent, doing the best he could for the form, and according to the custom of the trade, and in an open manner.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and MEAD Prosecuted.
JOHN BRANSCOME I am a jewelers, of 27, Paternoster Square, trading under the style of the City of London Supply Association, with partners—on 3rd May the prisoner was acting as our agent—he obtained orders and we supplied him with the article—it was his duty to obtain a receipt from the customer in all cases and then to pay the deposit, on which I should pay him his commission, the remaining money being paid by instalments—on 3rd May he gave me an order for a silver chain from a Mr. Preston, value 1l. 2s., which I supplied—the next day he brought me a receipt and 5s.—this signature, "William Preston," is his writing—it is not disguised—I subsequently went to the address on the order, as he had failed to report concerning three watches he had taken away, and which he purported to have received orders for, and asked him to come with me to Preston's address—he knocked at the door and asked to see William Preston—the landlady said no one of that name resided there—the prisoner said "I am astonished"—I applied for a warrant—a fortnight elapsed after I called at his house before my giving him in custody—he had been in my employment only a few days—his commission would be 7 1/2 d.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner The order was written in my office—part is my writing—I should not have allowed you to sign another man's name.
Re-examined I have not been able to find Preston—I said to him "You are wrong"—he attempted to excuse himself by saying that he had met a party in a public-house.
Prisoner's Defence I met two working men I am acquainted with in Kingsland Road and took their orders; they gave me two addresses; the orders were written in the office. I can find the men. They are not here.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. BAYLIS Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.
SAMUEL GILL (Policeman E 349). I have not been able to find the prosecutor—on the morning of the 24th May I was in Portland Street, when I heard cries—I ran from Portland Street, a little way through Marylebone Street, and I saw the two prisoners walking fast up George Street, followed by two young men—I stopped them, and asked what was the matter, and they said "Nothing"—the two young men behind shouted to me that the prisoners had stolen a watch and chain from a gentleman—I took them back to the young men, and they told me a robbery had been committed in Union Street—I took them back with another constable to see if I could see the man who had lost his watch and chain—the only thing I found was his hat very much battered about—I found the watch on Holmes, which I took from him with the assistance of the other constable—the prosecutor had run away—he saw it the next day, and identified it before the Magistrate—6s. 6d. in silver was found on Ross, which was returned to her by order of the Magistrate—when I first saw the prisoners they were walking very fast; Holmes in front of Ross, some 10 or 12 yards—the witness Stevens told me to stop them, and another young man whom I have been unable to find since.
Cross-examined. I first saw Holmes in George Street, Marylebone Street, perhaps 300 yards from the place of the robbery; Ross was following him 10 or 12 yards behind—Stevens was following them up at about the same distance—Holmes was perfectly sober—he might have been drinking—he had a cane in his hand and a pair of gloves—they were conveyed to the Tottenham Court Road Station—my attention was called to the watch being in the soldier's hand just after I left the place where the robbery was committed—I was told either the soldier or the woman had the watch.
GEORGE STEVENS I am a bookmaker, of 6, York Street, Marylebone—on the 24th May I was walking through Union Street, about 2.15 a.m., when I saw the soldier and prosecutor fighting, and the woman came up and asked me to protect her friend—I asked her who was her friend, and she said "The soldier"—I said I should have no hand in it—I tried to part them afterwards, but I found they were fighting desperately, and I should very likely have got the worst off as they were big men—I stopped a few yards from them, and the soldier got the best of the other man, and knocked him down, and picked him up—he either fell up against the shutters or the soldier put him against the shutters, and the woman then came up, and I saw something glitter in the soldier's hand—I could not swear what it was—he picked up his gloves which were on the ground and commenced to run, and my friend said "Follow the soldier, and I will take charge of the woman"—he ran up Richfield Street, and I followed, when a constable stopped him at the bottom of George Street—he was walking then—I gave the soldier in charge; I said I thought he had the watch, and I asked the constable to search him, and he said he could not search him there, but must take him to the police-station—he took him back, and then we met Ross coming up; I saw the watch on the prosecutor when he was fighting—he ran away, and left his hat in Union Street—the woman did not interfere in the fight, nor did she say anything to the soldier or the prosecutor that I know of.
Cross-examined. Holmes was the worse for liquor, and the prosecutor was
very drunk; the woman was sober—I did not hear the soldier say "Give me my gloves"—I saw him pick them up—he did not say to the woman" Give me my gloves"—I cannot swear whether she gave him the gloves, but I know he returned for his gloves—I saw them in his hand—my friend said that the soldier picked them up—I saw the soldier return for the gloves, but I did not see him pick them up, or see the woman give them—my friend was not called before the Magistrate; he is not here—it was the corner of Union Street that I saw something glitter in the soldier's hand—directly he picked up the prosecutor—I did not tell the constable Gill that I could not tell which of them had the watch—I said "I suspect he has the man's watch," or words to that effect—I did not look in his hands then—I saw something glitter in his hand, and then he ran away—it was not in his hand when the constable was bringing him back, but in his pocket—I have not said a word about that before—I saw him fumbling about, but I did not know what for—I saw the constable take his gloves at the police-station—he had a cane in his hand, but I cannot recollect whether that was taken from him at the station—I heard the woman say to him "Go," when he commenced to run up Titchfield Street after he came back for his gloves—my friend stayed with the woman; she followed up—I did not see him pick up his cane—I did not see it in his hand when struggling with the prosecutor—I know some canes used by soldiers have a silver top and a bright ferrule.
Cross-examined by Ross. You were standing about 10 or 12 yards from me when the soldier and prosecutor were fighting—I did not see the prosecutor's hat fall off—I saw you pick it up—I did not hear you say 'The soldier has robbed the man," or "Go after the soldier, he has got the man's watch"—I ran after him for about 150 yards—you followed on with my friend, and I saw you at the top of George Street; you were not in charge then—I said something to my friend, and the other constable took you—there was a scuffle in Union Street to get the watch out of the soldier's hand—I did not hear it said that he had got the watch up his sleeve—I did not hear the policeman say to the other "Policeman Smith, you had better take the woman into custody"—I did not see you hand anything to the soldier; you were not near enough when they were fighting—when the soldier ran away you were about five or ten yards off—I did not say to you "He has got the watch; I saw him take it"—I said "I think he has got the watch"—my friend said "Follow him, and I will take charge of the woman"—I did not look behind to see if my friend was following after the soldier as well; he was not by my side—he came up with you, or a little in front of you—the soldier ran towards the barracks.
Re-examined The woman was left alone—it was in George Street that I said "The soldier has the watch"—I was not asked any question at the police-station as to what occurred on the way back, and that is the reason why I did not mention about the fumbling in the pocket—I do not think there is any ground for the suggestion that the glitter on the top of the cane was mistaken for the watch.
JOHN SMITH (Policeman E 124). I was in Mortimer Street on the morning in question, when I saw the prisoners and the prosecutor together, walking towards Mortimer Street; the woman appeared to be crying—the prosecutor left them, and went towards Regent Street—they followed, and the prosecutor turned round, and came back and joined them—they
stood talking some time, and went along Mortimer Street again towards Great Richfield Street—I took no more notice of them, but proceeded on my beat—I afterwards heard cries of "Stop thief," and met the soldier in company of Constable Gill, who said that the soldier had knocked a man down and taken his watch—I took the woman in custody, and came back along Union Street—I heard them say the soldier had got the watch in his hand, and I said to the constable "Take the watch out of his hand"—it was in his left hand—he had gloves in his hand, I think—the prosecutor identified the watch at the police-court.
Cross-examined. They were all together when I first saw them—I understood Stevens to say on the way to the Tottenham Court Station that the soldier had the watch in his hand—there was an officer on each side of him—the watch, I believe, was in the gloves—Holmes was not drunk—the prosecutor was a little that way—I have never seen him since he was at the police-court—I heard him say that he first saw the soldier at Regent Circus—I did not hear him say how long he had been with the woman—he said that he did not know which prisoner had taken the watch—the woman cross-examined him at the police-court; she suggested that the soldier and the prosecutor had been in company all day, and the prosecutor said he had never seen Holmes till he got to Regent Cirous—he did not say how long he had been with the woman, but that he met them at Regent Circus.
Cross-examined by Ross. I took you at once when I met you and the soldier—I said I had been watching you previously—I had to take the watch from the soldier's hand—I did not have much scuffle—I do not remember one or the other saying "He has got it up his sleeve"—the prosecutor did not say at the police-court that he was certain the soldier took the watch—he said he did not know which of the prisoners it was. Holmes received an excellent character from his superior officers. Ross, in a long written defence, stated that she met the prosecutor, who was bleeding from the right temple; that she wiped his face, and he gave her a few shillings; that Holmes came by, and seemed friendly with the prosecutor, but when they got to the corner they had a fight, and Holmes ran down the street; that two young men came up, and she said to them "Run after the soldier, he has got the man's watch;" that they then ran after him, and she stood there till they came back, when she was taken into custody.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HYDE Prosecuted.
AMOS JEWELL . I am a furniture dealer, of 385, Oxford Street—the prisoner was in my employ as a porter—his duties would be to dust and clean the place, and when I was out to attend to the shop—his wages were 25s. per week, and two and a half per cent. on what was sold; it was paid weekly as I received the money—in March last I discharged him on finding him drunk—at the time I had paid up everything owing—I have a customer named Captain Lister Kay, who owed me 5l. 8s. 6d.—I sent him the account last Christmas; I have not received payment of it—the endorsement on this cheque is not my signature (produced); it is the prisoner's—he had no authority to write my name or to open the letters or pay in cheques—I have never changed
a cheque since I have been in business, and he would not have the authority to do it—if I wanted cash I would draw my own cheque for it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were only engaged as porter—I allowed you to sell on commission soon after you came—this is my day. book (produced)—the first entry in the book has nothing to do with the matter; it is in October—I cannot say this entry refers' to the first day you came into my employment—I employed you in the shop, and told you at that time that if you made yourself generally useful I should serve you as your predecessor, and allow you sixpence in the pound, but I did not engage you as salesman—I know you were a salesman to my firm in Wardour Street for some time—if I had engaged you as salesman I should not have asked you to do porter's work—I had others in the place to take things home—I was at home a good deal; I kept you inside—I employed King and Goldsmith—I have never represented you as being the representative of the firm—I remember you selling a cabinet to Mrs. Leeman, of 5, Savile Row; this is the entry—I delivered the cabinet myself—I did not represent myself to the lady as the man that only took home the furniture—I cannot say how long I was gone—she paid me the money for the cabinet on my receipt—if you put "Jewell" you put "S. Harvey" also—I do not know that I dined with the servant and had lamb chops—I know I had a glass of wine with the lady—she gave me half a crown for myself because I did work for somebody else—she did not say when I left that she was very pleased with the cabinet, and that I was to tell Mr. Jewell if she wanted anything else she would call and look at the furniture—I have never represented you as being part proprietor or my brother—I do not remember taking home any chairs to Mrs. Rich, of Shepherd's Bush—I remember putting some chairs into a sale which came from Streatham way and a round table—I know a Mr. Askell, of Walton-on-Thames; you sold him a table, but he never had it—I remember going to Upper Seymour Street, and I went down to a sale to his country house at Walton-on-Thames—my brother went with me, and I saw Mr. Askell—I did not tell him you were my cousin, and it was never understood that for business purposes you were to be my cousin—you had no authority to open any letters—it is not the fact that from the very day you came there the whole correspondence was under your control—I opened them and gave them to you—I was always there before you—it was not your common practice to open the letters—you did open them once, and I stopped you doing it—I know Mr. Meek, cabinet maker, of Bloomfield Street, Hackney Road—he has worked for me for many years, and has made many wardrobes—I dare say he has worked for me since Christmas, 1879—I do not remember his making a birchwood wardrobe at Christmas, 1879—I was at Manchester, I think—I think when I went away I left you some money—I did not leave you a cheque for 4l. 10s. and say that you were to do the best you could with it—I paid Meek when I came home—I must have left you the money to pay him—I cannot name any letter I wrote while you were in my employ, but I wrote to several people I do business with—it is not the fact that it was your duty to acknowledge the whole of the letters and give receipts—I have not any receipts here—if a customer called to pay money when I was absent you would be entitled to take it—I never asked you to endorse a 5l. note with my name—you could put your name for so-and-so—I sold a gentleman of the name of Ingham, of Sloane Street, an inlaid chest of drawers for 4l. returned from a customer at Colchester—I
was not in the shop when a lady called to pay for it; I suppose I was out—I do not know that I was talking to Young, the hatter, close by—I do not remember your coming to ask me if I had change of a 5l. note—I swear I paid you your wages of 25s. per week and your commission when I got the money—I have a book showing what money I received; it is not here—you sent down this note (produced), and I have brought the day-book, which I thought was what you wanted—if I had thought it essential I should have brought the other book—it is not the fact that there has not been a settling up since March, 1880—there was no statement made out showing the amount due for salary and commission—you owed me 15s. for a watch which I let you have for your boy—you have not been to my place of business to go through that account—when I knew what a lot of money you had received I saw your wife about it, and then you came round and told me that there had been 1,050l. received on which there was commission—there was not a balance of 11l. 4s. 6d. in your favour—there was no statement delivered to me; I did not want any; you bad it every week. By the COURT. He has not made any claim for it. By the Prisoner. I do not owe you any money—I cannot remember everything sold from one year's end to another—I sold to a company in Cannon Street goods amounting to 9l. 10s.; I got the money for them—I was not in the habit of coming home when dark and the shutters were up—I do not owe you any commission on 72l. worth of furniture sold to the Vicar of Sidcup—I paid you that before you left, and you had half a sovereign for expenses—I do not owe you commission on 48l. 5s. for furniture sold to Stevens of Elm Park Gardens—I turned you out of my shop when you were drunk—I said, "Here is your money, and go"—I never kept accounts—I know what I paid you by a little book at home. By the COURT. I do not know whether the prisoner received any cheques while I was in Manchester.
By the Prisoner. You did not pay Meek 3l. on Boxing-day for two book-cases for Mr. Cunningham, of Fig Tree Court, Temple—this last entry in this book is in your writing—you sold an umbrella-stand—I have not had the money for it, but it has been paid—I cannot produce the receipts—I wrote to the Vicar of Sidcup twice for 10s. expenses, which you said you never had—I sold some furniture to Sir Charles Stirling and to Sir Robert Leighton by his recommendation—I never saw him or his lady—I went down there to take some chairs, not to pack any furniture—I took somebody with me—I remember sending you one morning—I remember asking you to get the money if you could—I think it came by cheque—the bill was signed by me before you took it—I could not swear whether the cheque for 50l. came by post or whether you brought it.
Re-examined. This post-card is signed by Mr. Marshall Tweddle, a customer of mine (produced)—it is dated 23rd March, and is, "Reply to an application for payment of an account for which he holds a receipt, 'Amos Jewel, per S. Harvey,'"—there is no ground for the suggestion that the prisoner was in partnership with me, or that I was a brother or cousin—he wrote many letters for me under my direction, and he was authorised to receive money for me when I was not in the shop, and if he got a 5l. note to change he would be justified in changing it and putting his own name on it—it was his duty to account to me when I returned to the shop—his commission on receipts was paid as the money came in—I
suppose I owe him about 1l. or 25s.—the amount due from Captain Lister Kay stands as unpaid, and there are several others which I have since ascertained were got in by the prisoner—if I left a cheque with him payable to order I should not leave it for him to endorse—since I have oeen in business I have paid every cheque into my own bank—just before he left I found him out in one case of a cheque for 9l. 10s., when he admitted forging my name, and I forgave him it—I thought of his wife and family—he never made any claim on me from the time he left my employ till I gave him into custody.
CAPTAIN LISTER KAY . I reside near Rugby, and was indebted to the prosecutor 5l. 8s. 6d., for which I sent him this cheque on 1st January—I received the invoice receipted—the cheque was paid into my bankers.
Cross-examined. I remember purchasing an oak bureau of Mr. Jewell—I do not remember you personally—I came back from Dunmow in July, and made rather a fuss about the account not being sent me, and then you sent it signed "For Jewell, S. Harvey."
CHABLES SWAIN . I am a dairyman, of Marylebone Street—the prisoner brought me this cheque the first week in January, and asked me if I would oblige him by cashing it—I believe this is the one—I said I had not got enough in the house at the time, but I gave him 2l. on account, and said I would give him the remainder after—he sent his child for the balance, and wrote on a piece of paper requesting me to give it—I saw the endorsement on it—he said he wanted it to pay the carmen with—he is an occasional customer of mine—I wanted to be sure that the cheque was right before I gave him the whole.
Cross-examined. I gave the balance (3l. 8s. 6d.) to your child—I have not the piece of paper, but I met you afterwards, and asked if you had received it, and you said, "Yes"—I knew you were with Mr. Jewell—I should not have cashed a cheque for you if I had not known you.
Cross-examined. I took you into custody at Mr. White's, in Wardour Street—I had seen you there. The prisoner in his defence maintained that he had implied authority to endorse cheques. He received a good character from his present employer.— NOT GUILTY . There were four other indictments against the prisoner, arising out of the same facts on which no evidence was offered, and a verdict of
NOT GUILTY was taken.
MR. BRAXTON HICKS Prosecuted.
JAMES ALLCOCK (Policeman T 468). On the 18th May I was on duty in Harmansworth, when my attention was attracted to a window of the church, at about 10.45 p.m.—I got the key of the vestry, and went in with Thorpe and Blondell, where I found the prisoners covered with cassocks—I asked them what they were doing there—they said they were let in by a couple of strange men, and one man had taken away their clothes—I searched the church, and found the clothes, and took them to the prisoners, who owned them as theirs—I searched the coats,
and found in them two boxes of matches—I took them in custody, and they were charged at the police station—underneath the clothes I found a sacramental knife and altar cloth, the property of West Dray ton church.
FREDERICK THORPE . I live at Harmansworth, and am a licensed victualler—at the time in question I went in with the last witness and Blondel, at the church vestry door—I saw the prisoners lying beneath some cassocks—I took charge of the prisoners, and the policeman made search of the church—I saw the broken window, where there was room enough for me to go in—the prisoners were then taken into custody.
Johnson's Statement before the Magistrate. "I plead guilty to being in Harmansworth church, but not the other one."
O'Gaddy's Statement before the Magistrate. "I plead guilty to being in Harmansworth church, but the statement of Amelia Butcher is utterly false."
O'Gaddy's Defence. As to being found in the church, we were found there, and were asleep when they came, and that shows that we did not intend to commit a felony. I had 6 1/2 d. taken from me, but it was not sufficient to pay our lodgings, and that is the reason we went in there; but we had no idea of committing a felony in the church, as everything was found safe, as the policeman or other witnesses will prove, nothing being touched except the cassocks. If we had intended to commit a felony we should not have left the matches in our coats.
Johnson's Defence. I am guilty of being found in the church. I should have pleaded guilty yesterday, only I heard a gentleman say that something was missing out of the church. I never entered there with the intention of committing a felony.
O'GADDY PLEADED GUILTY to having been convicted of felony on the 1st Nov., 1880, at Clerkenwell, in the name of CharlesLum.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, June 30th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
620. MARIE McILVEY (20) was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the wilful murder of William John Martin. MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MESSRS. GROGHGAN and ROBINSON Defended.
JOHN HIGQINS . I am potman at the Rising Sun public-house, 12, Clare Street, Clare Market—besides myself there were Mr. and Mrs. McIlvey and their two daughters, Marie and Madeline, living in the house—Marie is about twenty and Madeline eighteen years old—the woman Donovan does not live in the house—I knew the deceased Martin; he was a frequent customer, coming nearly every day—on the Monday or Tuesday before the 5th May the mistress gave me directions, and I went to Walpole's, the chemist, for some prussic acid; it was for cleaning brass—Miss Madeline gave me the money—I did not get the acid—when I returned I saw the prisoner, and gave her the 4d., and told her that I had been for some acid, and could not procure it; she said, "Who gave you the
money?" I said, "Miss Madeline;" she said nothing more—between eight and nine o'clock on Thursday, 5th May, I was coming from the back of the premises with a piece of paper tied on a stick, for the purpose of lighting the two lamps outside—as I passed out through the door I saw Mr. Martin leaning against the partition—the prisoner was on the inside of the bar talking to him, leaning on the counter; there was nobody else behind the bar; there were two men standing inside the large compartment, where Donovan was sitting down against the side of the wall—I went out to the front of the house and lit the lamps—my attention was attracted by hearing a bottle smash, and I saw Mrs. Donovan passing in the road, with Martin leaning on her arm—I heard Martin say, "Oh, my God, I am blinded!"—it was about two minutes after I had come out that I saw Martin and Donovan come out of the same door—I went inside with the stick, and saw the prisoner there with her hand on the engine, behind the bar; she said, "There is something the matter with Martin, John," and she told me to run after, him—while I was outside I did not notice any one pass in or out at the door except Mrs. Donovan and Martin—I did not see which compartment they came out of—I did not see them till they were in the road—when I left the place they were in separate compartments—when this was said to me by the prisoner I went to King's College Hospital, after Martin—'there are doors in the compartments, but only two outer doors—before I went out to light the lamps I saw Mrs. McIlvey sitting at the end of the bar parlour, the other side of that door, towards the stairs—Mrs. Donovan and Martin had got to the hospital before I arrived—I saw Martin standing on the mat in the hall—I spoke to him; the house surgeon came down, and I spoke to him again in the house surgeon's presence; he was then taken into the surgery; there were white marks down his face and forehead, and his eyes were closed; his face was dressed, and then I helped to take him to the ward, and stopped with him till the bed was ready—during the time I was at the hospital he made two or three statements to me—when I first saw him on the mat I said to him, "Can you tell me what is the matter with you?" he said, "John, there is something been thrown in my face"—I asked him if he could tell me who had done it, and he said he had not the remotest idea—I repeated that to him when the house surgeon came down, and he made the same answer—when I took him up to bed I said to him again, "Now come, Mr. Martin, if you have any idea who has done it, tell me?" and he said, "If anybody has done it, it was not done intentionally"—he then gave me some papers to take to his wife—when I went back home the prisoner was in the bar with her mother; she asked me what was the matter with Martin—I told her somebody had thrown something into his face, and she said, "Good Lord, I wonder who has done it!"—this little door underneath the flap is generally kept open—they have a large dog in the bar—about eleven that night I saw Mr. Mcllvey and his daughter Madeline come home; they had been to Drury Lane theatre—the prisoner is sometimes called "Polly".
Cross-examined. I have been with Mr. Mcllvey about six months"—during that time the deceased had been in the habit of using the house—I I saw him on the 3rd May, and heard him bid them good-bye, as he was going to Hounslow to take possession; he said he thought he should be there about a week—the two men I saw come out of the large compartment were perfect strangers; I saw them come out just be fore I heard
the bottle smash; I had never seen them in the house before; I did not notice their dress—Mrs. Mcllvey could not from where she was sitting see anything that took place in the bar—I did not see the girl Newbury come to the door and look in while I was outside lighting the lamps—the last thing I saw was the prisoner and Martin talking together on friendly terms, laughing and chatting—I never saw them on any but friendly terms—I never saw any quarrelling or ill-feeling between them—I did not know his wife; I had heard that he had a wife—their house is a minute or two's walk from ours—Mr. Martin knew Mr. Mcllvey before he took the Rising Sun; he has only had it about six months—Martin sometimes had his meals there; he and Mr. Mcllvey were on intimate terms—Mr. Mcllvey is a Roman Catholic; I did not know Martin's religion—when I asked him at the hospital what was the matter with him, he said "As I was going out of the door something was thrown in my face"—there was no vitriol kept in the house; we used hartshorn and oil to clean the brass, and Davis's Powder afterwards, in consequence of Mr. Mcllvey complaining that the brasses were not bright enough—there are a number of costermongers' stalls in Clare Street; it is a very narrow street—all that the prisoner said when I came back was "Good Lord, I wonder who did it"—she did not seem excited.
ELIZABETH DONOVAN . I am the wife of John Donovan, a costermonger, and lived at 9, Gilbert Street, Clare Market—I am a charwoman; I work for Mr. Mcllvey at the Rising Sun—on the evening of 5th May I was there from 8 o'clock; I was in the large compartment reading the newspaper against the partition close to the private bar—there were two gentlemen in the same compartment; the prisoner was behind the bar talking to Mr. Martin, who was in the small compartment; they were chaffing something about his dinner—he said he had some lamb and green peas—they were both laughing about it—I heard no more until I heard him halloa "Oh, my God, I am blinded; take me to the hospital"—I went through the little trap-door in the partition and ran to him, took him by the arm, and led him out immediately—I saw no one but him in that compartment, and no one behind the bar but the prisoner, and nobody in the other compartment but the two gentlemen—the prisoner began to laugh when Martin said "I am blinded"—she ran to wake up her mamma, who was asleep in the bar-parlour—I went out with Mr. Martin; I did not see Higgins; I had seen him come through the bar with a long stick in his hand and go out to light the lamps; that was about ten minutes before Martin called out—I saw no one when I got outside, only people passing by—on the way to the hospital I asked Martin who had done it, how it had happened, and what it was—he said he did not know, to lead him as fast as I could to the hospital, he could not see which way he was going, and to mind that nobody pushed him—nobody assisted me with him to the hospital—just as he halloaed I heard a break of glass; I don't where it was, whether inside or outside, I heard something fall—I left him at the hospital and came back, and I met the prisoner half way going there; she said "Where is Mr. Martin?"—I said "In the hospital; they have kept him in; I believe he is blinded;" she said she should go and see the doctors herself to tell them how it happened—I went back to the hospital with her—she saw the doctors; there were two; one of them asked her if she was his wife; she said no, she was the person who was in the bar at the time, and they walked
away from her—she did not say how it happened; she said she did not know nothing about it—I left the hospital with her and went back to the house—I saw Mr. Mcllvey and his daughter come home about 11.
Cross-examined. Martin halloaed out as loud as he could; the two gentlemen could have heard him—as I went through the bar I saw them leave the counter as if to go out; they did not go to assist Martin; I have never seen them since—I noticed them while they were in the bar, one was reading a paper and talking about betting on horses, something about the races; that was why I turned round to look at them—I had never seen them before; they were respectably dressed, better than the usual run of customers; one was young—I believe they were something like foreigners by their accent; they spoke broadish—what the prisoner said was "I am going to the hospital to tell the doctor what I know, as I was the person behind the bar at the time," or words to that effect; I can't say the exact words—I had known Martin about two years—I have been with the McIlveys about ten months, off and on—they knew that Martin was a married man; the prisoner knew it—he used to spend a good deal of his time there; he sometimes had his meals there; he was on very intimate terms with all the family; he would chaff and joke with any one—directly after he said "I am going to have some lamb and green peas for my supper" he cried out "My God, I am blinded"—I don't know whether he was going out then—before that they were laughing and joking together—I never heard of any quarrel between them; if there had been I must have heard it—I never knew of any vitriol being kept on the premises; if there had been I dare say I should have known it—I did not notice the child Newbury or anybody when I took Martin to the hospital—I asked him who did it, directly we came out of the house, and again at the hospital, and he said he had not the slightest idea.
Re-examined. The door I went through was fastened on my side; I unbuttoned it and went in—as I ran in the two men left the counter to go out—they had been there about 10 minutes—they only had a pint of ale.
ALICE TAYLOR . I am the wife of George Taylor, of 11, Gilbert Street, Clare Market—I have a stall in the street—on the night of 5th May, about a quarter to 9 o'clock, I was sitting at my stall, opposite the next house to the Rising Sun—the first thing I saw was Mrs. Donovan leading Mr. Martin out of the house—I asked her what was the matter; she made no answer, but went away leading him to the hospital—I heard some glass thrown out at the private entrance two or three minutes after Mrs. Donovan came out, about as near one time as the two gentlemen came out from the big entrance; the glass came out of the small entrance just about the same time—I did not see it, I heard it go into the road—Mrs. Donovan came out two or three minutes before the two gentlemen—I don't think she had got 20 yards, not so much as across this court—I had never seen them before; they walked in the road, towards Glare Market.
Cross-examined. I did not go and look in the road for the glass—I judged by the sound that it came out of the bar—I would not swear that I it did—the gentlemen came out as I heard the glass smashed—one of the gentlemen spoke to the other as a foreigner, I could not understand what he said—they went in the same direction as Mrs. Donovan, only
she walked on the pavement and they in the road—I can't say how far they were behind—I did not Bee any girl or any person at the door.
ELIZABETH CARR . I am the wife of Robert Carr, he is employed at a coach-builder's—I am housekeeper of 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields—on Thursday night, 5th May, between 8 and 9 o'clock, I was passing the Rising Sun; I heard a noise, and turned round and saw a man on the pavement with his hands up to his face, and a woman holding his arm—he said "Oh my God, what have I done," or "what have they done"—I could not distinctly hear the exact words—I saw the prisoner at the door, and said "What is the matter?"—her reply was "He had a bottle in his hand, and he asked me to smell it, and the stuff flew over his face"—those were the words to the best of my belief—she was standing at the door when she said it—I did not see anything more of the man, he had gone away with the woman, and I passed on my way home—I had seen him before, passing through the Inn, but I did not see his face, and I did not know it was Martin—I did not know Donovan before—I had seen the prisoner before, by passing by.
Cross-examined. I was examined before the Coroner—before I took the oath I declined to be sworn, because I did not distinctly hear the words, but to the best of my belief those were the exact words—while I was giving my evidence the detective Scandrett was by my side—he did not speak to me while I was giving it—I would not like to swear that he did not—I don't think he did—I don't think a second hardly passed after Mrs. Donovan left the house when the prisoner came to the door—I was in a great hurry, I did not wait a second—I do not know Mrs. Martin.
WILLIAM GEORGE EVANS . I am house surgeon at King's College Hospital—on 5th May I was there when Martin was brought in to the surgery—he was suffering from a burnt face, he was quite sensible—I am not sure whether I saw Mrs. Donovan or the prisoner—Martin was put to bed, and I attended to him at once; he was under my care till he died, on 26th May, about a quarter past 7 p.m.—it was a serious case—Mr. Henry Smith, one of the surgeons of the hospital, saw him from time to time—the injuries extended over the whole of the face, with the exception of a little of the chin, up to the hair, the eyes, nose, and part of the lower lip and chin—it was burnt to the depth of the skin—he was blinded at the time, his eyes were closed; if he had recovered from the injuries he would have lost the sight of one eye—I formed the opinion that the injury was caused by sulphuric acid, vitriol—I tried it—I saw his clothes, they were marked by the same acid, and his hat was damaged underneath—he progressed very satisfactorily for a fortnight; on the 19th, the Thursday week before he died, he became delirious and seriously ill, and got gradually worse until his death—I did not speak to him with regard to his dangerous condition—during the last week he was sometimes delirious, and sometimes conscious—I subsequently made a postmortem examination—Mr. Barrow was present—the heart was seriously diseased, the liver slightly—he had erysipelas, the result of the injury; the immediate cause of death was the heart disease—the throwing of the vitriol would undoubtedly tend to shorten his life, and in my judgment it did so—irrespective of being injured, there was nothing to cause his immediate death—a thing of this kind would cause a great shock to the system—he had recovered from the shock, that lasted for a day or two—the erysipelas
acting on the heart disease killed him—he might hare lived for month or years as far as the heart disease went—the state of the liver had nothing to do with the death; that was not produced by excessive drinking—I should think it was the result of former inflammation—I believe the kidneys were very slightly diseased, that had nothing to do with the cause of death—I think I had one conversation with the man some time in the week following the injury—he told me he did not know who did it; nothing more.
Cross-examined. He said that to the man who brought him in, in my presence when he was admitted—I think it was Higgins—I don't think the prisoner came and offered to describe to me the position in which she was standing—the decided; symptoms of erysipelas only intervened two days before the death—he was delirious a week before his death; he might have lived for months with the heart disease, or he might have dropped down dead at any time—there was a considerable quantity of fluid in the brain and lungs, consequent upon the heart disease; it was a disease of one of the valves—I do not think there was sufficient fluid to react on the heart and stop its action; it might, but, in my opinion, it did not—it might paralyse the nerve centres, and so end in death—I have been house-surgeon some months this year—I have been five years in the hospital; six months as assistant house-surgeon, at other times dresser and student—the aggravation of the heart disease was caused by the erysipelas without doubt, it was of such a severe, nature—there is such a thing such as idiopathic erysipelas without injury, but it is not common—he raved; I did not hear him mention names—a sister and a nurse attended him—I saw him on the morning of his death; he was conscious then—his relations constantly visited him.
ALFRED BOYCE BARROW . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons and a M.B., and am pathological registrar at King's College Hospital—I did not see Martin during his life—I assisted in the postmortem examination with Mr. Evans—I have heard his description of the state of the organs, it is correct—with regard to the face, the skin was charred as from sulphuric acid—the left eye was more affected than the right; it was the cornea, not the whole body of the eyeball; the skin was thoroughly charred; it was like a piece of parchment; it is very difficult to state the immediate cause of death—he had heart disease, and in addition to that there was the state of his face, and the serous fluid in the brain—no doubt the injuries accelerated the death—the predisposing cause was the state of the heart, and the diseased state of the kidneys and liver was accelerated by the injury and the erysipelas.
Cross-examined. When there are several parts of the body affected it is a difficult matter to decide which is the principal factor in killing—the disease of the kidneys was very slight; it possibly arose through drink—there was a small quantity of fluid in the lungs, and some serous fluid in the brain—I did not notice a considerable quantity, I should think about two or three ounces; it was not measured; if; might possibly react on the heart; but it is very common to see a much larger collection of fluid in the brain without affecting the heart; it was valvular disease of the heart, and there was also adherent peritoneum, adherent to the surface of the heart.
By the COURT. Supposing he had had no injury to his face in my opinion he might have been alive now—I consider that the injury which
produced the erysipelas acting on his weakly condition caused his death—I did not see the erysipelas.
HENRY SMITH . I am Professor of Surgery at King's College Hospital, and one of the principal surgeons there—I saw the deceased the day after he was brought in, and from time to time up to the 24th, when he was transferred to the medical ward—I saw the state of his face and eyes, they were exactly as Mr. Evans has described—I was not present at the post-mortem—I have heard the description given by Mr. Evans and Mr. Barrow—supposing the state of the man's organs were such as they have described, the injury to the face inducing erysipelas would tend to accelerate his death, and in my judgment it must have done so; but for that injury he might have lived for an indefinite time.
EDITH DOLBY . I am a sister at King's College Hospital—the deceased was under my care from the time he was brought till he was removed to the medical ward on 24th May—two or three days before he was removed I asked him how he was—he said, "I am very ill, I shall die, I shall never get over it"—I remember one of his brothers coming to see him one Sunday—I think it was after that that he made this statement, but I cannot positively say.
Cross-examined. I cannot fix the exact time when he said this; I should think it was within a week of his death—he never expressed an opinion afterwards to me that he was going to recover—he never got better afterwards.
REV. THOMAS DENNY . I am a Roman Catholic priest, and live at 54, Lincoln's Inn Fields—I attended the deceased at King's College Hospital on the Sunday previous to his death about 9.30 in the evening; he was very ill—on the Tuesday following I told him that I considered he was very bad from what I had been told, by the nurse in the ward, and I thought he would not get over his illness, so he had better prepare for death—he seemed to agree with what I said; I judged so from his manner, not from anything he said—I administered some of the rites of the Church to him in the afternoon of the day on which he died; he was not conscious, and I did not administer the Sacrament of the Holy Communion—I administered extreme unction, but at that time he was unconscious—I had taken his confession on the Sunday night in consequence of the state he was in.
Cross-examined. I think it was between 2 and 3 in the afternoon that I administered extreme unction—one of his brothers was there, and one of his sisters, and I think his wife, but I am not certain—he did not repeat a part of the prayer after me; he did not make an act of contrition—he was moaning; he was not in a state to speak articulately—I did not see him again before he died—Elizabeth Martin was not one of the sisters who was present by his bedside—the sister was kneeling down by the bedside; I was standing on the other side, close to his face—he did not think he was so bad on the Sunday when I spoke to him—that was my first visit—he did not express any hope of recovery on that day, he merely alluded to the pain he was in; he did not express any opinion one way or the other; he did not appear to think he was going to die.
ELIZABETH MARTIN . I am the sister-in-law of the deceased, and the wife of his brother Thomas, a wardrobe dealer—I went to the hospital to visit the deceased on Monday, 23rd May, about 4 in the afternoon—we were quite alone—I said to him, "William, you are very bad"—he said,
" I am dying"—I was sitting by his side, and about five or ten minutes after I said to him, "William, I am quite alone; who committed this dreadful crime?"—Miss Dolby was not there that day, it was her rest time; the nurse was there.
WILLIAM GEORGE EVANS (Re-examined). He took a decided turn for the worse on the 19th; I never considered that he was better after that—on the Tuesday previous to his death I do not think there was any prospect of his recovery; I did not think there was any hope after the 19th.
MR. POLAND, proposing to give in evidence the statement of the deceased as a dying declaration, MR. GEOGHEGAN objected; in order to make such a declaration admissible, he contended that it must be shown that the man was under the impression that death was impending. After hearing MR. POLAND and referring to the authorities, MR. JUSTICE STEPHEN, having consulted MR. JUSTICE WILLIAMS, decided to admit the evidence.
ELIZABETH MARTIN (Re-examined). When I said to him, "Who committed this dreadful crime?" his reply was, "Polly Mcllvey done, it"—we had a little conversation concerning business matters, but nothing more about this—I stayed with him an hour and a half—I did not see him again until the Thursday, the day he died, about half-past 1—I then said to him, "William, are you worse to-day?"—he said, "Yes, I am dying fast"—I said, "Would you not like to see the clergyman?"—he said "Yes"—his brother James was standing by the bedside, and he fetched Mr. Denny—I was present when the extreme unction was administered; lie looked very bad—Mr. Denny told him to say some prayers, and I knelt at the left-hand side of him and repeated the prayers, and he prayed with me—I could not thoroughly understand the words he said, but in between I knew that he was praying—Mr. Denny left, and James came in about 10 minutes or half an hour afterwards—we said to the deceased, "William, you have not long to be in this world with us, and we want you for the last time to tell us who done this dreadful crime"—he replied, "Polly Mcllvey done it"—James said, "Are you sure Polly Mcllvey done it?" and he said "Yes"—I said to James, "You had better let it be known to your brother Tom," and he left to see Tom—that was all that passed then—about 5 o'clock James came back with Detective Scandrett, and James again asked him who done it, and with a good deal of struggling he got out, "Polly;" that was all, he was not able to say any more—I left about a quarter to 7 to have some tea, and when I got back he was dead.
Cross-examined. On the last occasion when Scandrett was there all the deceased said was "Polly;" he did not say "Polly Mcllvey did it"—James did not say to him "Did Polly do it?" nor did the deceased say "Yes"—the deceased made an act of contrition, with me; I repeated the prayers; he did not speak them distinctly, but I heard one or two words in between—he prayed with me; he was conscious at the time; I swear that—the priest did not administer the Holy Communion to him—I told James to go and tell Thomas that the deceased confessed who had done it—I had told Thomas myself on the Monday evening when I came home from the hospital—I do not know why James was to tell him also; I wished to impress it on his mind—the deceased was quite conscious for the hour and a half I was with him—he asked me to have a cup of tea with him—I told his widow on the Tuesday evening what he had said; I did not tell the police—I did not tell the widow on the Monday, I had business
to attend to—I go to sales, and had some goods to clear—my husband did not tell me that the deceased had confessed the same thing to him, till the Monday evening; he said he would not mention it till he should die; he did not tell me anything about it; he said, "He has confessed to me, but I will not mention it till he dies"—I asked him to tell me what he had said to him, and he said, "No, he may recover, and I don't wish to tell you; he wishes to see you to-morrow without fail"—I only visited the deceased on the Monday and Thursday; I went every day, but the porter told me no visitors were allowed, in consequence of the small-pox being so much about—I told my husband to go and see him on the Sunday afternoon, but he said, "I do not wish to go, as I have not gone for these two days." JAMES MARTIN. The deceased was my brother; he was clerk to Mr. Nathan, the Sheriff's officer, of Chancery Lane, and was 41 years of age—I went to the hospital, and saw him on the Thursday that he died; I had seen him once before, on the Saturday previous; it was between one and two on the afternoon of Thursday that I saw him; the last witness was there; I said to him, "Bill, you haven't long for this world; a few moments and you will be before your Almighty; now, tell me who did this?" he hesitated for a minute, and then said, "Polly Mcllvey did it"—the sister of the hospital was standing by, and I said, "What do you think of that, sister? you heard it;" she said, "Yes;" she gave me a nod of the head, a kind of recognition—the nurse came round the bedside and said, "I think he wants the priest; you had better go for him"—I immediately went for Father Denny; he came in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I did not go to the bedside with him; I went afterwards, and I asked him whether he was certain that Polly Mcllvey did this crime, and he said as before that Polly Mcllvey did it; Elizabeth then said to him, "Are you sure Polly Mcllvey did this?" I believe he answered "Yes"—that was all that took place—I then left, and consulted the secretary of the hospital—from what he said, I went and saw Scandrett, the officer, and brought him to the hospital; I took him to the bedside—Elizabeth Martin was there, and I said, "Bill, tell me once again who did this?" and he said, "Polly did it;". or "Polly," I won't be sure—I said to him, to make certain, "Are you certain Polly did it?" and he said "Yes"—he was not quite so strong then as he was the first time he made the statement to me; he was sinking, but he was perfectly conscious—I believe the priest came to administer the last rites of the Church on the 26th, between three and four o'clock—it was about half-past four or five when I took the detective to his bedside, perhaps earlier it may have been as late as six—the detective did not go to his bedside more than once with me—I witnessed the priest administer the last rites, through a little glass door in the corridor—the deceased was conscious—I could see he was praying when I was by his bedside—my first interview with him was about two hours, from between one and two to between three and four—the conversation about seeing the clergy was perhaps half an hour or an hour before he told me who did it—it might have been a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes before the priest came—I swear that the deceased was perfectly conscious at the time the priest administered the rites of the Church, because when I went to his bedside after Father Denny left and spoke to him he answered me, and appeared perfectly to understand—I told him the position he was in, and that he had only so-and-so to live—he simply shook his head and said "Yes," or
something similar to that, in a very low tone; he was sinking fast—I am a compositor, with Mr. Richards, in Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields; I am not a porter—the deceased was perfectly conscious when I came back with Scandrett; perhaps that might be an hour after the priest left—Elizabeth Martin was there then—my brother did not appear so strong then; there was a change, but nothing very extraordinary; he was weak in body, his intellect was quite clear—he seemed to know that he was going to die—I was consoling him in his last moments—I was standing right over him when he said "Polly"—I had not to bend down to hear him—he had not to make a great struggle before he spoke; he hesitated, but he turned round and answered me—Scandrett was not leaning over him with his ear within three inches of his mouth—he certainly did struggle when I mentioned the word "Polly;" he did not seem to like it—I did mention the word "Polly" after he answered me I said, "Are you sure Polly did it?" and he seemed to be wild that I should ask him again; he seemed to be annoyed at my asking him so many times, after admitting that she did it—he was strong enough to turn round and make an expression of indignation—at the time he said "Polly" he was not almost unconscious and sinking rapidly; I thought he was near his death, and he seemed to know it—the death-rattle was not in his throat—he was not moaning—his lips were not covered with saliva—one of the sisters heard this statement; it might have been one of the nurses, I believe it was; it was the one who gave him his last dose of medicine—I said to her, "You heard him?" and she said, "I want nothing to do with it"—I might have seen my brother four times between Monday the 23rd and Thursday the 26th—I don't think I saw Mm on the Monday; I saw him on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday—I asked him on the Tuesday morning who did it—I said, "I think it is your duty to tell me;" and he said it would not do me any good to know who did it—I can't say whether Elizabeth Martin told me on Tuesday night that he had confessed—she told me on the Wednesday that he had told her who did it—she mentioned the name of Polly Mcllvey, and she told me so again on the Thursday, at the hospital—I think I saw the deceased's widow every day since the occurrence—I won't swear that I mentioned to her on the Wednesday that the deceased had confessed that Polly Mcllvey did it.
Re-examined. It was on the Saturday night after the occurrence, the first time I saw him, that he told me it would do me no good to know who did it—his face was tied up with bandages; his nose and ears were exposed.
THOMAS MARTIN . I live at 1, Green Street, Leicester Square—I am a sorter in the General Post Office, and also a wardrobe dealer—the deceased was my brother; I am the husband of Elizabeth Martin—on Sunday afternoon, 22nd May, between 3 and 4, I went to see my brother at the hospital—I said to him, "William, this is a very serious case; have you got any secrets to tell me, if you have, tell me?"—he did not say anything to show that he believed himself to be in immediate danger—he made a statement to me—I saw my wife the same night—I can't say that I spoke to her on the subject of the statement he made to me, I may have possibly told her that he had said something to me; I don't know that I went into the facts of the case—I went again on the Monday and saw him, nothing further took place between us.
ISABELLA MARTIN . I live at 9, Sardinia Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields—the deceased was my husband; he was 41 years of age—on 5th May I left home at 7 in the morning to go to my work as a laundress in Clement's Inn—when I last saw my husband that morning he was in his usual health, he had been better—about a quarter to 9 in the evening the potman at the Rising Sun came and told me something, in consequence of which I went to King's College Hospital, and saw my husband—I called daily, but was not allowed to see him again till Saturday, the 21st; he died on the 26th—on Tuesday, the 24th, I was at the hospital with Elizabeth Beasley, and saw the prisoner coming down the steps—Beasley said to her, "How dare you come and see my brother after what you have done to him"—she said, "I don't know what you mean"—Beasley said, "Ask your own conscience"—the prisoner said, "If you say much to me I will serve you the same"—I told Beasley to have no altercation with her—I followed them to the gate and told the porter not to admit her again—she made use of some very filthy expressions to me, which the porter was witness to—the words are scarcely fit to be made use of; it was vile language; it had nothing to do with this business, only abusive language to me—in a chest of drawers of my husband's I found two photographs of the prisoner, they were in a pocket-book, secreted in a drawer.
Cross-examined. I have one of them with me, the other was mislaid—my husband slept at home on the Wednesday preceding the 5th May—he went to Hounslow—he did not tell me he was going for a week, he was expected back the same day; he was put in possession on the morning of the 5th—he was in the habit of using the Crooked Billet public-house and the Rising Sun—my business took me a great deal from home, and I cannot tell when he went out or came in—I forbad him to go to McIlvey's, that was not because I was jealous of the prisoner—I knew that he went there—I do not know Mrs. Newberry, I have nover spoken to her, I saw her waiting outside to-day—she was present at all the inquiries since her child was called, but I never spoke to her, or she to me—the Rising Sun is in a very low neighbourhood—I forbad my husband to go there simply because keeping company with Mcllvey kept him away from his employment, that was my only reason—his meals were ready at home for him if he had been there to eat them—he was in the habit of dining at home; he did not always have his tea at home, not as a rule—I did not ask him where he had it—we were on good terms—I know that gentleman; I believe he is the clergyman of my parish—I never told him that my husband had not confessed anything.
Re-examined. We had been married fifteen years, and always on good terms—the photograph that is lost was smaller than this, suited more for a locket—I have seen the clothes which my husband wore when this took place.
ELIZABETH BEASLEY . I am the wife of Percival Beasley, a dock clerk, and live at 34, Robert Street, Chelsea—the deceased was my brother—on Tuesday, 24th May, I was in company with his widow at the hospital—we met the prisoner on the stops coming out—I said to her, "How dare you come to see my brother after what you have done?"—she said, "What did you say?"—I said, "Don't your conscience prick you?"—she said, "If you say much more I will serve you the same."
Cross-examined. Before I was married I was living with my father—I
did not do anything before I was married—I was a barmaid after my mother's death, at Gatti's, at Cremorne Gardens; I was there about seven years on and off; I was not dismissed; I never threw a bottle of champagne at a gentleman—the prisoner made use of foul language to my sister-in-law; she called her a b—cow, and put her finger to her nose—I have never mentioned that before, I did not like to.
JAMES SCANDRETT (Detective). On 5th May I heard of what had occurred at McIlvey's, and went there about 11 that night to make inquiries—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Mcllvey, the prisoner, and her sister—I said to Mr. Mcllvey, "Can you tell me anything about this, or how it occurred?"—he said, "No, I was away at the theatre at the time; my daughter, perhaps, can tell you more about it"—I said, "Which one?—he called Polly, the prisoner—I said to her, "Can you tell me how this accident occurred?"—she said, "I was standing leaning on the bar; Martin stood with the door in his hand and said, "I am going to have lamb and green peas for supper to-night;' we were just having a joke, when some one threw the vitriol into his face from the outside; some of the stuff went on my fingers and on my dress"—I asked if any one else was there at the time—she said the potman was there—I called the potman, and said to him in the prisoner's hearing, "I want you to tell me all you know of this"—he said, "I was outside lighting the lamps, and heard a bottle fall; I immediately ran into the same bar where Martin was; he stood with his hands up to his face; I heard him say, 'My God, I am blinded;' I saw no one outside, I saw no one leave the house; I saw two women and a man I did not know walking up Clare Street as if nothing had occurred; I took my stick in that I had been lighting the lamps with, and ran to meet him going to the hospital"—he said, "There were not many persons about at the time"—I noticed that two fingers of the prisoner's right hand were marked with some spirit, as if some spirit had been thrown on them, and also a little in the palm of the hand—I examined the place, and found four marks of some kind of stain on the counter flap, which the prisoner pointed out; one was running down towards the outside—I also saw similar marks on the floor in the bar about three and a half feet from the counter; the prisoner pointed them out—I saw some marks on the oilcloth directly under the centre of the flap; they were the same colour, and about four inches from the door that closes under the flap; she did not say anything about those—that was all I noticed at the time—I searched outside, and in the road, exactly opposite the house, I found some portions of glass—I then went to the hospital, and returned to the house and saw Thomas Martin there talking to Mr. Mcllvey—I made no further inquiries at the house that night—Inspector O'Callaghan asked her to explain to him where she was standing at the time of the accident—she said, "I was standing leaning into the compartment where the two gentlemen were; I did not see Martin at the time it occurred; I heard him say, 'My God, I am blinded;' there were two gentlemen with black kid gloves"—she put her hand to show where she was, and it was a few inches from where the vitriol marks are—she showed me her dress on the night it occurred, and there were vitriol marks on the right side a little below the hip—I also noticed some marks on the oilcloth under the flap, which I cut out and took to be examined, but it was a stain of some other kind—I saw the deceased in the hospital the day after he was admitted about 5 o'clock or later; James and
Elizabeth Martin were present—James Martin leant over the deceased's head, and I stood at the opposite side of the bed with my head about three inches from his face—James Martin said, "Now, William, you have not long to stay with us," or words to that effect, "tell me what you told me before; who did it?"—after two or three seconds the deceased said, "Polly"—James said, "Did Polly do it?"—he said "Yes"—I then left the ward—I had told him who I was the first time I visited him.
Cross-examined. When he made the statement about Polly he was almost dying, in my opinion—I bent down and put my ear within three inches of his mouth; James was not so close—in my opinion the man was sinking rapidly—I had two interviews with the prisoner; she answered my questions fully and freely; she pointed to the stains on the counter and on her dress, and to her fingers, which were burnt—there were four stains dotted across the bar in a slanting direction, the first had trickled down over the moulding—it was on the second occasion that the prisoner said that she was talking to the two gentlemen—I took down what she said, this is it—supposing she was standing as she said with her hand like this, her right hand would be in the compartment from which the vitriol is said to have been thrown—I think I made this note late the same night—the burn on her hand was nearly the size of a sixpence—I should have noticed if there had been any stains on the bosom of her dress—Sergeant Partridge assisted me next day in making inquiries at the oil shops; he is not here—I found out the girl Newberry on 13th June through a woman working in Clare Market, whose name I do not know, and I took the girl to Bow Street the same evening at 5.45—Mr. O'Callaghan was present, and her mother and myself, but not Partridge—no reward had been offered, but the prisoner's father told me he would have bills printed offering a reward of 5l.—Newberry comes here to-day in her mother's care.
Re-examined. I attended the inquest on all occasions—the prisoner also attended from time to time, and on the last occasion—after the verdict she was taken on the Coroner's warrant, and brought to Newgate—Newberry was examined by the Coroner on the last day but one—the stain on the oilcloth under the flap was brown, and similar to the others; that was the one I cut out.
JOHN O'CALLAGHAN (Police Inspector E). On 1st June I went with Scandrett to McIlvey's, and saw the prisoner behind the bar—her father, mother, and sinter were there—I had previously asked the father whether he had any objection to the prisoner answering a question—I then said to her, "Will you show me where you were standing, and where Martin was when the vitriol was thrown?"—she moved and placed herself in a position right opposite the partition, and placed one hand on the bar of each compartment, and said, "This is how I was standing; I was looking into this bar," the large one, "and my hand was on this," the small one, "where Martin was; I do not know where he was standing, I could not see him, but I heard him say 'Good night;' I then heard him cry out, and I turned round and saw what was the matter; there were two men in the other bar, and after Martin had cried out they came round into the bar where he was"—I said to Scandrett, "Where are the marks?"—the prisoner said, "Here they are," and pointed out the stains on the counter—the father said, ", There is another stain on the floor outside"—the
prisoner said "Yes"—the sawdust was brushed aside, and she pointed to the stain—I inspected the floorcloth under the bar and immediately inside—I thought it better that the surgeon should see it, and fetched him—there was a mark on the right side of the prisoner's dress where the pocket would be, and she said, "That is where it fell on me; "she wore the dress at the inquest—I left and returned in about an hour with Mr. Callaghan, assistant to Dr. Mills, a surgeon—these (produced) are the deceased's clothes; they were produced by his friends at the inquest, and the police took charge of them—the coat is stained above the skirt from the collar; there is very little stain below the waist; the main stains are on the upper part in front—here are two very small stains on the trousers above the waist, not more than one-eighth of an inch square—the hat is stained under the brim only.
Cross-examined. The prisoner volunteered to show me the stains—her father swept away the sawdust—she answered my questions fairly and fully, there was no hesitation whatever—her father offered every assistance—I did not understand her to say that she spoke to the two gentlemen, but I did not put her statement down in writing.
HARRIET NEWBERRY . I am 10 years old, and live at 18, Holies Street, Clare Market—on 5th May, a little before 8 o'clock, I went to the Sun public-house for a pint of beer—I just opened the door and saw a lady behind the bar throw a cup in a gentleman's face—the prisoner is the lady—she threw the cup out of her hand, and the man stooped down and put his hands to his face and said, "I am blinded, and I am done for"—I went and got the beer at the Artichoke and went home—I saw another lady behind the bar, who I should know again.
Cross-examined. I saw her at the inquest—it was the prisoner's sister—I said that she was behind the bar at the time the vitriol was thrown—a lady standing outside Cook's, the grocer's sent me for the beer—I had not seen her before—she said "Little girl, will you go and get me a pint of four ale, as there may be somebody in the bar I know?"—she had black hair and eyes—she had no veil or jacket—she had a black shawl and a hat—I go to Vere Street Board School—I do not go to a Sunday school, I have not got time—other ladies live in the house besides my mother—Mrs. Wilson, Mrs. Blackman, Mrs. Miles, Mrs. Markham, and Mr. Coe, who keeps the shop, and Mr. Carey in the kitchen—my mother only occupies one room—I have no father—I have a little sister and brother—I go to bed at 8.30 or 9—my mother was out when I went home on 5th May—I did not go to school next day, I was not very well—I had been in McIlvey's house once or twice before—the lady who gave me the money to buy the beer told me to go to the Rising Sun—the Artichoke would have been nearer—I have never seen her since—I have not seen the prisoner since I was before the Magistrate on 5th May—I told my mother next morning that I had seen this stuff thrown, and I told a little girl, Annie King, on Sunday—she was going to the Sunday school—I did not tell my teacher—I know a boy named Blackman, he lives in the next house—I have played with him once or twice—I did not tell him what I had seen—I do not often tell my mother things which she does not take heed of—that gentleman (Scandrett)came to see me on the Monday—I have only seen Mrs. Isabella Martin speak to my mother once, that was in Russell Court—I do not know what they said—it was on Tuesday after 3 o'clock, the day I gave evidence before the Coroner—Mrs. Johnson, who
lives two doors off, has sent me for beer in that way, and so has Mrs. Coe and other people—I have not been to the Rising Sun since May 5th, I went to the Artichoke—I told Mrs. Johnson what I saw, about a week after—I did not tell her or any one that I had been put through a window of the Rising Sun, and dropped into the arms of a potman, but I have heard that that has been said; my mother heard Mrs. Johnson tell Mrs. Cole so—I did not see a potman outside lighting the lamp—I saw Mrs. Taylor outside, but no one else—a man does not occupy the same room as my mother.
By the COURT. I saw the vitriol thrown in the man's face—I did not hear of it afterwards—I heard Mrs. Taylor talking about it, but I was not much about the market—my mother cannot read a newspaper, but some of the people in the house can—I heard them say as I was going to the Sunday school, that a man had been burnt to death—I did not say "Why, I was there and saw it"—I kept it to myself.
EDMUND BLAKE (Policeman). I understand surveying—I made this model and plan—the model is to scale, two feet to the inch—it does not show the whole of the premises—the ground-floor is made to the same scale—from the door to the counter is 8 feet 2 inches—this little compartment is 4 feet 3 inches (explaining the different measurements)—this shows the position of the lamps outside.
This being the case for the Prosecution, the Jury stated that they did not wish the case to proceed further.
NOT GUILTY .
There were two other indictments against the prisoner, for feloniously throwing vitriol, with intent to disfigure, and to do grievous bodily harm, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, June 30th, 1881.
For cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, June 30th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
625. WILLIAM JARVIS (23) to stealing a purse and 11 postage labels and 9s. 9d. of James Curtis from the person of Eliza Curtis.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MEAD Prosecuted.
at the corner of Charles Street drunk, quarrelling and making a noise—I went to them in company with Robert Gentry (Policeman B 142), and requested them to go away—the woman did go, but the man remained, and I was compelled to take him into custody—the woman returned—a crowd assembled—we drew our staves, but were overpowered, and could not use them—the prisoner wrenched my staff from my hand, and Gentry was struck across the head with it, and he fell down—he bled profusely—I saw the prisoner in the crowd—I was thrown in the street with the prisoner, and with the man I had in custody—the prisoner was then kicking me on the legs and body; he kicked me on the legs while I was standing—when I was on the ground I was kicked on the head by a man named Crawley, who was convicted last March—Crawley was then down by my feet—some costermongers' boards were thrown over me—I became insensible; when I became sensible I crawled on to the pavement where I found Gentry bleeding from the head—the crowd had disappeared—Crawley and the prisoner had gone—I was taken to the station, and attended by Dr. Capon—I have not done duty since—Crawley was taken into custody the Tuesday following—a warrant was obtained for the prisoner's apprehension—I live in the neighbourhood; I did not see him again till 24th May—I had known him two or three years—I had to turn him out of the public-house—there was a gas light five to seven feet from where I lay—the row lasted from 10 to 15 minutes.
ROBERT GENTRY (Policeman D 142). I was on duty in Charles Street, Lisson Grove, with the last witness—I found a man and woman drunk—the woman went away; we took the man into custody—a crowd came, and we were hustled and thrown down; we got up and drew our truncheons—the man we had in custody took Middleton's truncheon away and struck me across the head with it—I fell down insensible; when I got up I saw Middleton and the man we had in custody lying on the ground, and Crawley was kicking him in the face and eyes, and the prisoner kicked him three or four times in the legs and body—I attempted to get to Middleton's assistance, but I was knocked down by a costermonger's barrow, which was running behind him; the barrow was thrown on the top of me, and I received a kick in the face—when I got up I got to where Middleton was; he was getting out from under some barrows and boards on to the footway—the men had escaped; we very very much exhausted, and went to the station—I afterwards obtained a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension—I did not know where he lived at that time I knew the prisoner was called Bullock—I was not able to apprehend him till the 24th of May—I saw him standing outside 35, William Street, which is close to St. James's Street—I said "Bullock, I suppose you know I have a warrant for your apprehension"—he said "You have got the name right enough, but not the man; there is one man doing seven years now"—with the assistance of another man I took him to the station—in Hereford Street he made a desperate attempt to escape; he tried to throw me down; I had a tight hold-of his coat sleeve—I had known him about three years or more—this was about 200 yards from where the assault took place.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have been on duty in that neighbourhood for eight years—I am sure you are the man.
John Street, about 1.40 a.m.—I saw Middleton—he had a wound an inch and a half long running obliquely across his lower lip, half an inch below the margin of the lip, and extending through it into the mouth; a piece of the lower lip three quarters of an inch long and an eighth of an inch thick had been struck away, the ragged end was remaining; three teeth in the upper jaw, two double teeth, and one single tooth had been knocked out, and a fourth was loosened, and with a portion of the jaw which was broken off was held in place by the gum; he had a bruise as large as a hen's egg on his right temple; his right eye was blackened; he complained of bruises to his ribs and legs; he was much exhausted, and required the use of brandy—the wounds were dressed, and he was placed with the other constable Gentry on the sick list—he has done no duty since, and from time to time has had portions of the bone removed from his jaw—I have attended on and off with the surgeon for the division—he is still incapitated from duty—it is doubtful how long he will be so, he is anything but well—such injuries could have been inflicted by kicks.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate)."I passed Constable Gentry night after night."
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN STANLEY . I am a widow, and live at 35, William Street, Lisson Grove—I have known the prisoner since Christmas; I do not know where he lived—I was in bed at the time of the row—the prisoner was in my room that night at 1 o'clock—he came to visit my daughter; she was in the room—I was awake till 2 o'clock—the place is never quiet, there is always a row on a Saturday night in particular—he left my room at 9 o'clock in the morning when he went to his breakfast.
Cross-examined. The prisoner keeps company with my daughter—we occupy one room—he came first at 9 o'clock—he left at about 10.30, and came again between 11 and 11.30, and gave four knocks at the door, and shouted "Eliza," and the landlord was angry—he went downstairs at 1 o'clock to smoke his pipe because of my cough—he remained 15 or 20 minutes—he came back; he had some tea with me at 2 o'clock—I was very ill, and was requested to have some one to sit with me—I fell asleep, and when I awoke he was asleep—I was in bed—the rest did not go to bed—William Street is about 150 yards from James Street—I do not know Crawley nor any of the men in the neighbourhood; I have lived there 12 months last January—I know the women there—I have seen Julia Reardon—I heard of Crawley being charged with committing this offence—I do not know that Reardon swore at Crawley's trial he was passing the night in her room under the same circumstances as the prisoner was passing the night in mine—I was not at the trial—I do not know that Crawley said he was elsewhere—I did not know of the warrant till the prisoner was apprehended—I have seen him two or three times a week, between 26th February and 24th May—he was never out of the neighbourhood.
GEORGE DAVID FAULKNER . I live at 68, Wigmore Street—on the 27th February I saw the prisoner at the door of 35, William Street, at 1 a.m.—I was collecting rents, and I had to wait till after the public-houses closed, and I was going to put a broker into one house—I said, "Is not it time you young people were in bed?"—you went upstairs at my request—you keep company with a girl there.
Crow-examined. I heard the church clock strike 1—the prisoner was
smoking—six or seven persons were there—I had heard complaiants of disturbances—I knew he did not lodge in the house—I did not see the row, I heard it—that was over three-quarters of an hour—that was about 12.15, at the back of the house—I had seen the prisoner three or four weeks before, but had never addressed him—he was in the house at 12; he went for the beer, and wanted to mollify me, as I complained of the noise in the house by his shouting "Eliza" and giving four knocks at the door—he has not been out of the neighbourhood—I was his bail—I found him at Lisson Grove every night.
Cross-examined. He came in about 9 o'clock—he remained about an hour and a half—he came back about 11.30—he remained till the next morning in the same room with me—he left the room occasionally—he was not away very long, about 10 minutes—he went down to smoke a pipe at 1 o'clock—he remained down about a quarter of an hour—he did not come to sleep at my place, he came to see mother, and me too—he was keeping company with me—I did not go to bed that night—my mother was ill in bed—he fell asleep; that was between 1 and 2—I did not go to sleep, I sat reading; I had to sit up with mother—the prisoner was sober—I asked if I should wake him, and mother said, "No; let him remain there"—he came there before, and has come since—I do not know where he lived; I have known him nine months; I never asked asked him where he lived, and he never told me—I know Julia Reardon—I never knew Crawley till I read the case in the paper—Reardon is not my friend—I was not here when Crawley was tried.
ANN MCCULLOCK . I am a single woman, a laundress, and live at 35, William Street—I remember the 27th February—I heard the row; it was a good bit after 12, nearer 1; I did not see it—I was in Mrs. Stanley's room at the top of the house—Eliza Barnett, her mother, and. the landlord were there; Murphy was there too when I heard the row—I saw him after 11, and he stayed there all night—I heard the girl went to sleep and he fell asleep in a chair—I was giving Mrs. Stanley medicine.
Cross-examined. I was in the room all night—the mother was in bed—Faulkner went at 1 o'clock—I did not go to sleep—the prisoner left the room sometimes—he was at the door a little before 1; he went down to smoke his pipe; he was away not half an hour, about 20 minutes—he went to sleep after he came back—before the girl a long time we all sat talking.
The Prisoner's Defence. I got home about 7, washed, and had tea, and about 8 went to this house, and gave four knocks; the landlord jawed me; Eliza Barnett asked me upstairs; I eat about an hour and a half reading a book, had a walk, and returned about 11.30, and eat reading again—I went down about 12.45 for a quarter of an hour; the landlord was talking to a man who keeps a tailor's shop; there were two or three girls who lived in the house, and women, and he said, "It is time you girls and boys and young people were a-bed," that was five minutes to 1, and I never left the room till 9 the next morning—I am quite innocent.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RIBTON. Prosecuted; MR. THORNE COLE Defended.
JOHN SHILLINGLAW . I am carman to Mr. Coopman, of 36, Commercial Road, cheesemonger—on the 17th May I was delivering goods in Union Street in a cart—I had to leave the cart for a few seconds: when I returned I missed a tub of butter from the tailboard—I saw a man at my van as I turned the corner—he had a tub of butter—I did not see his face.
ANNE BRITTON . I live at 54, Fann Street—on 17th I saw Mr. Coopman's van about 6.15; I saw the prisoner get on to the wheel of the cart; he looked in; then he got down; then he went to the back of the cart and took a tub of butter out and went away with it—I spoke to Mr. Shillinglaw—I next saw the prisoner at Commercial Street Police-station the following Friday morning—I picked him out from eight chaps—I am quite sure he is the man—I am 19 years of age.
Cross-examined. I was at the station about 10 minutes.
GEORGE WRIGHT (Police Sergeant H). I took the prisoner into custody at a public-house in Fann Street, Spitalfields, on the 20th, from information and a description of him—I said, "I am going to take you into custody on suspicion of stealing a tub of butter from a van on the 17th"—he made no reply—Anne Britton came to the station—she picked him out from eight others—he said, "I am innocent."
Cross-examined. The inspector and another constable were present—the others were all young fellows, the oldest not 25—we got them from the street—I never heard anybody but you complain of constables being present when a prisoner is picked out—the prisoner stood about the middle.
Re-examined. The butter was not recovered.
NOT GUILTY (seepage 318).
MR. CUNNINGHAM Prosecuted.
ALFRED FAULKNER . I reside and carry on business at 85, Mare Street, Hackney—on the 27th May we closed the premises about 9, and went to rest about 1—I keep a watch dog—I was awoke by him about 2 a.m.—I went downstairs and examined the premises—I did not then find anything wrong—about 7.30 a.m., when the girl was beating the mats, we found four holes had been bored in the shutters about an inch and a quarter—the shutters were wedged tight by this key—I also observed footmarks in the garden—I communicated with the police—the following morning I again secured the premises, and went to bed about I—I was awoke at 2 by the dog—I heard voices in the front—I knew the police were on the alert and went to bed—about 3 the police woke me up—I came down and opened the shutters—I found jemmy marks upon them, and fresh footprints in the garden—I compared the marks on the shutters with the jemmy produced, they fitted exactly—I went to the station and saw the prisoners in custody—No. 81 is an unoccupied house, it has been burnt out and not redecorated—there is one house between that and ours—a person by getting over two walls could get to the back of my premises.
Cross-examined by Smith. I did not see anybody on my premises upon either occasion.
WILLIAM BOOTH (Policeman N 477). I received instructions at the police-station that these premises were attempted the night previous—about 2 o'clock on the 28th I was in Mare Street, Hackney, with other constables—I tried the stable-door and found it was pulled back; I gave it a sudden jerk, and it came open; I saw Smith—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he made a run towards the back premises—I heard another person; I took out my rattle and sprang it; I returned to Mare Street; I saw the prisoners come out of 81, an unoccupied shop, and Police-constable 85 coming to my assistance; he was on the opposite side—I closed with Steed and took him into custody—he threw this jemmy into the road—on the way to the station I was joined by Police-constable Lewis, who took a lamp from Steed's left-hand pocket—Steed said, "Oh, that is nothing, that is only an attempt"—I afterwards examined the shutters of No. 85—I found three marks to correspond with one end of the jemmy and one with the other—it is a rasp turned into a jemmy—I was present when Lewis searched Steed at the station—this large key was found on him—it opened 81, Mare Street—he also had a steel from a woman's stays.
Cross-examined by Steed. You did not say "It is only a lamp."
Cross-examined by Smith. I can swear to you because I stopped you and spoke to you, and by your face—Steed said to you, when the constable took the key from your pocket and said "It is a skeleton key," "No, it is a common street-door key."
CHARLES VALLENDER (Policeman N 85). About a quarter to 2 a.m., on 28th May, I heard a rattle spring in Mare Street—I went in the direction and saw the prisoners come out of No. 81 in a bustle—when they saw me they ran—I saw the last witness at the corner of Essex Street and Mare Street—he stopped Steed and took him into custody—I followed Smith—he turned into Essex Street in a road which leads into the Duncan Road—I called out "Stop thief!"—I saw Police-constable 489 N—between us we caught Smith—Lewis only, I believe, was in plain clothes—we took Smith into No. 81—I saw him put his hand into his side pocket and throw this gimlet down—489 had a lantern.
Cross-examined by Smith. My lantern went out, and I asked the other policeman for a light—I tumbled over a stone, but I did not stop a second—Essex Street is about 200 yards long—I did not lose sight of you—from Essex Street to Duncan Road is 100 yards—you had no chance to throw anything away.
Re-examined. Smith struggled and kept saying "What do you want to choke me for?"
JOHN MORRIS (Policeman N 489). About 2.20 I was in the Duncan-Road, Hackney—I heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I saw Smith running, being pursued by Police-constable 85, 9 to 12 yards behind—I caught Smith—he had got his hand in his pocket trying to pull out this gimlet—I seized his hand and the cork came off the top—he said "You have got the wrong man, you ought to have run after the other man"—I took him back to No. 85 in company with the last witness—while I was looking round the shop I saw this gimlet on the floor—we took him to the station, he was charged with attempting to break into a jeweller's shop—he said "All right"—I searched him—I found on him these two wedges, three
keys, one is a skeleton key, and a box of silent matches—the large key opens the door of 81—he did not say it fitted his door.
DAVID LEWIS (Policeman N 293). About 1.30 a.m., on 28th May, I was on duty in plain clothes in Mare Street, Hackney—I saw the prisoners in the middle of the road just past Essex Street, walking in the direction of Bethnal Green, from Essex Street—I kept behind them till they went over the bridge—I stood and they came back and passed me—when they went on the bridge where I was they looked over the wall; Smith said "Let us go this way;" Steed said "No," and then Smith took hold of Steed's arm and pretended to be drunk—I lost them at the corner of Essex Street—I waited at Mare Street some time to see if I could see anything further of them; I went up Essex Street and returned—I saw Police-constables 85 and 477, we had some conversation—five minutes afterwards I met Steed in custody—I saw him put his left hand to his coat pocket; I caught hold of his hand; I said "What have you got here?"—I pulled out this lamp; he said "Oh, that is nothing, it is only an attempt"—I took him to the station; he was searched—this stay steel was found upon him—it is used by burglars for pushing catches back—this skeleton key and the three mortice-lock keys were found on him—this key unlocks the door of the unoccupied house—this jemmy was handed to me by one of the officers who was directed to go and look in the road—I went to the rear of 85 and called Mr. Faulkner up, and he came down—we found marks on the shutters corresponding with the ends of this jemmy—the key that opens I was also found in the shutters at 85—when the inspector read the charge over Smith said "You understand it is only an attempt."
Cross-examined by Smith. When you appeared to be drunk you were on the Cambridge Heath bridge—you were not drunk.
Steed's Defence. The key that was taken off me is a common door key. When asked what the lamp was, I said "Only a lamp," and not "Only an attempt." I did not have the other thing in my possession, nor throw it away.
Smith's Defence. I was at the Three Greyhounds that night, and missed the train to Hackney. I was making the best of my way to the Kingsland Road. There is no skeleton key. Would anybody go and break into a jeweller's shop with such tools as these?
BENJAMIN BRYCE . I am a warder at Millbank—I produce the certificate of the prisoner's conviction—the prisoner was uder me afterwards—he was discharged from Millbank on 20th September, 1879—I had daily opportunities of seeing him—it was after a previous conviction in 1866, when he had seven years—this is his photograph—his leg is fractured.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. RIBTON Prosecuted; MR. STEWART WHITE Defended.
in Hanbury Street—he is a sewer of soles of boots—on the 26th May I was sent out by my master with a barrow, three baskets, and 99 pairs of boots, to Mr. Bowley's, in Union Street—I met the prisoner about 1 o'clock, in King William Street—he said "Tommy, are you going over the water?"—I said "Yes"—he said "Will you go and get me some sausages?" and he gave me a shilling—I went and bought them and came back—the barrow, baskets, and boots were all gone—I went to the policestation about 1.10, and told the police the place of the robbery, and gave a description of the prisoner—one of the baskets has been recovered, not the boots—I picked the prisoner out from seven or eight at the station.
Cross-examined. I have been with my present master nearly two years—I cried—I told a man of my loss—I told my master afterwards—two detectives told me they had caught this man, and me and the governor went to the station—I noticed the prisoner's hat and scarf, and the spots on his face.
JAMES JOHN PERKINS . I sent Brown with a barrow, three baskets, and 99 pairs of boots, about 20l. in value—about 1.30 he came back crying—he made a complaint to me—I went to the police—I got one basket—the boots are not recovered.
GEORGE WEIGHT . (Police Sergeant H.) I took the prisoner into custody at the Northumberland Arms, Fann Street, Spitalfields, on another charge on 20th May—in consequence of a description I had received, I sent for Mr. Perkins—the boy came—the prisoner was placed with seven or eight others, and the boy momentarily picked him out and said, "That is the man who stole our boots"—on the 28th I said to the prisoner "You will be further charged with stealing three baskets and 99 pairs of boots"—the barrow was afterwards found in the street, and one basket.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, June 30th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr Esq.
MR. CUNNINGHAM. Prosecuted.
HARRY GOWLAND . I am a blind maker, and live at 26, East Beacons-field Buildings, Caledonian Road, Islington—my apartment is on the top flat of the buildings, surrounded by a veranda, and the prisoner occupies an apartment on the same fiat across a flag-stone about two feet wide—I fastened up my door and window on going to bed on the 2nd June at about 11 p.m.—between 4 and 4.30 a.m. I was awoke by the alarm of my American timepiece—I heard a rattle a£ the window, and my missis said "Some one is very industrious cleaning their windows"—I did not get up for 10 minutes or so—I then got up and went into my
sitting-room, and found the blind up six inches, and the sash of the window open, and the box which my wife keeps her money in open, and I missed a watch and the money—I went to fetch a constable, and accused the prisoner of taking them—he said "I have not taken them"—I said "If you have got them, give them up"—he said "No, I have not got them"—I said "Then you must take what comes," and I gave him in custody—his box was searched, and the watch found, and the constable took him to the station-house, and came back and found the money—the prisoner is my brother-in-law—he said my wife had put the watch in his box—when the constable went in he was in bed with his trousers and stockings on—it was 5 o'clock when I fetched the constable.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I cannot swear I saw you take the watch or the money—I did not get in at the window, but the policeman did, and let me in.
The Prisoner. As the constable went to open the door, I put my trousers on.
EMMA GOWLAND . I am the prosecutor's wife; the prisoner is my brother—I last saw my husband's watch on the Thursday night at 10.30 in the tea-caddy in the drawers, and the 1l. 1s.—the constable showed me the sovereign and shilling; the latter had a black mark on it—it is not true that I put the watch in the box—this is the shilling (produced.)
JOSEPH BRADLEY . (Policeman G 383). I was called by the prosecutor at 5 a.m. on the 3rd June, and went to the top-story window of Beaconsfield Buildings—the catch of the window had been forced back—I then went to the prisoner's window; the catch was undone, and I got in and saw the prisoner in bed with the clothes over him, either asleep or pretending—when he got out of bed he had his trousers and stockings on—the prosecutor in my presence asked him about the watch; he said he knew nothing of it or the money—I lifted the lid of his box, but did not take the things out—I looked on the mantelpiece, and then unlocked the door and let in the prosecutor and last witness—the latter took the watch out of the centre of the box under some clothes, I looking on—the prisoner said that his sister must have put it there—on further searching the room I found this purse, with the sovereign and shilling (produced.)—the shilling has a black mark on it.
Cross-examined. I am sure you had your trousers and stockings on—I was standing by the side of the last witness when she found the watch. The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say here."
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROBERTSON. Prosecuted
WILLIAM JAMES . (Policeman E 60). I was in Great Portland Street on 24th April at about 1.30 a.m., when I saw the prisoner with another man who has been convicted—they were standing near a lamp by the corner of Weymouth Street—I passed them, and noticed a third man on the left-hand side—they followed me and stood at the corner of Devonshire Street—the man on the left side crossed over and joined the other two on the right side, and they proceeded to 220, Great Portland Street, and stopped and turned round, and commenced to force the door—the prisoner
was trying to push it open with his shoulders—I was on the same side as the prisoners, and I crossed over to get a better view, and a young man stepped from the door of No. 198, opposite 220, and ran along and met me and said three men were trying to break into the shop over the way—I said yes, I had seen them for some time—they ran away, and I pursued them and caught one who has been convicted, and one not in custody escaped—I particularly noticed them—the prisoner escaped—on the 5th of this month I went to Tottenham Court Road Station, not knowing the prisoner was in custody, and saw him with four others, and I immediately identified him as one of the three I saw in Great Portland Street—I have no doubt as to him—I had frequently seen him before—he lives in the same neighbourhood as I am stationed.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I passed close to you—I did not apprehend you, because you had not committed any offence when I first saw you—I did not see anything of you from the 24th April till the 5th of the present month.
By the COURT. He gave an address at a common lodging-house—he slept there twice after this date, but not afterwards, and those two nights I omitted to go there—I went there several times.
The Prisoner. I went down to Epsom and came back on the Oaks day. He had seen me day after day.
ALFRED BROWN . (Detective Sergeant.) I apprehended the prisoner at about 12.30 on the 5th inst.—I got information of him on the 25th April—I know him very well—I went to the lodging-house first in St. Giles's; I also went to several other places which the prisoner used, but was unable to find him—I found him in Upper Rathbone Place on the morning of the 5th—he became very violent, and I had to throw him to the ground till I got assistance.
Cross-examined. I told you the charge—I was in private clothes—you were in liquor, but not drunk—you know me very well—when I first got you in Rathbone Place I pulled you into a court to get you out of the crowd, knowing the class of persons you know there and your character as well.
WALTER BROWN . I am a bookseller, of 220, Great Portland Street—on the 23rd April I locked up my shop and left it all right at about 9.30 p.m.—on the Sunday afternoon I received information from the police that there had been an attempted burglary—I went to the shop and found the door greatly injured and forced, apparently by a crowbar—an attempt had been made a few nights before, and it was very much interfered with then.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not one of those three gentlemen on the night of the 24th April, nor have I any connection with them. I have been eighteen months in one firm at work, and I hope the gentleman is here to give me a character. I have lived three years in this house, where I could have been found if wanted. I have never had any trouble in my life before, and I hope you will not take my character away.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
the 6th May last, between 3 and 4 p.m., I was in Lichfield Street—I was carrying a bag with one arm and a chicken with the other—I had been out shopping—in ray bag I had a large red purse with the change of a sovereign, about 10s., and a lace handkerchief—I had been about ten minutes on my journey, and when coming back the prisoner watched me from the opposite side—I should have gone across, but could not do so for a van—there were five men boxing, two were near and the other three farther away; two came over, and one struck me on the chest very hard indeed and nearly knocked me backwards, and he wrenched my bag away—the prisoner went into a passage and I followed him—he went into a house; I waited outside; he came out again in about three minutes; he saw me in the midst of a lot of children; he had his hands in his pockets—I got a policeman to follow him—shortly after three policemen came up and brought me my bag; the purse was missing—next day I was at my own door in St. Martin's Lane and saw the prisoner; he saw me looking about and he ran away—I afterwards saw him in custody at Marlborough Street among seven or eight others, and I picked him out without any difficulty.
Cross-examined. I think it was about six o'clock when the bag was brought to me—I gave an instant alarm to the police—I think it was about 9 or 10 o'clock on the Saturday night that I saw the prisoner, or somebody very much like him, but he looked at me and ran across the road—I was asked by one of the constables to see the prisoner five weeks after the robbery; I went alone; I think it was last Monday fortnight, about 11 or 12 o'clock—there were about seven men in the room; there were several officers; I do not know how many; I did not take any notice of them—I think Mrs. Pennymold went in with me—I think I did not go so far up the room as she did—when I saw the prisoner I did not say to him "You are the man," but I looked at him, and he knew by my look that he was the man—I went past seven or eight and came back again, and I said "He is there," But there was another there I think standing with the group, and I said "I think I see another in the group that belongs to the same lot of men, but he did not rob me or strike me"—I said the first time "That is the man."
Re-examined. I think the name of the officer I had the bag from is Stone—I believe he is here; he took my name and address and brought my bag and keys later on in the evening—when I complained of being robbed I gave a description—the prisoner looked in my face, and I knew him.
ANNIE PENNYMOLD . I live at 6, Lichfield Street, which is a corner house—I saw this man with four others coming out of a public-house, and they sat on my husband's barrow—he said "I won't have these scamps on my barrow," and the first one said "I will knock your b—head in"—I said "Mind who you are talking to; I shall know you again"—these men were wrestling in the street with one another—there was a van in the street—they were boxing between 8 and 9, Lichfield Street, and this lady tried to avoid them and went against the kerb, when the prisoner snatched her bag, and the other man struck her on the arm and snatched her bag again, and the bag gave away and they ran away—I called to the constable and told him to come along, as there was a robbery in Lichfield Street—I next saw the prisoner in Vine Street on the 13th June—I picked him out from eight or nine other lads—I am sure he is the one who spoke to my husband, and was going to hit him.
THOMAS BOWDEN . (Detective). I had the prisoner in custody on the 13th inst.—I charged him with being concerned: with another man in robbing a lady on the 6th May last—I had a description of him from the prosecutrix—he said "You hare made a mistake; my name is not Beading; I do not know anything about your neighbourhood; I belong to Leather Lane."
GEORGE STONE . (Policeman C 193). I was on duty in Lichfield Street at the time in question when the prosecutrix made a complaint to me—I found this bag about four o'clock in the closet at 9, Princes Road., which is about fifty yards from the place of the robbery, a private house; it is the house where the prisoner is alleged to have gone.
GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of felony on 27th September, 1878, at Marlborough Street.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOT. Prosecuted.
RICHARD FREDERICK HODGSON . I am a solicitor, of 96, Grosvenor Road, Highbury New Park, Islington—on 3rd June I retired to rest about 11 p.m., and left the house safe—a plate-basket, containing plated and silver articles, was left in the breakfast parlour—at about 6.30 next morning my attention was called to the window of the breakfast-parlour, the fastening of which had been pushed out, and the plate was gone—I have since seen it, and identified the whole of it.
WILLIAM JAMES BODMIN . (City Policeman 102). On Saturday, 4th June, I was on duty in Golden Lane, at about 10.15 a.m., when I saw the prisoner carrying a paper parcel containing a fork and two dessert spoons—I stopped her as she was coming out of a pawn shop—I examined the parcel, and asked her what she had been in the shop for, and she said, "To pledge them"—I asked her where she had got them from—she said, "From a man in Brushfield Street, by Bishopsgate Street," but she did not know his name—I told her I should charge her with the unlawful possession of them—I took her to the station, and she was searched, and this broken silver was found on her, and all these articles (produced)—I found out the owner the same day—I went to the Vintners' Company, the forks having the Vintners' mark on the back, and that is how I traced the owner.
The prisoner in her defence stated that a man stopped her and asked her to take the articles to Barbican and sell them for old silver; that she took them to the refiner's but was too early to see the party; that when she opened the parcel she found it contained broken silver and she would not have taken it if she had known that; that on having the shop she saw a pawnbroker's, and took them in there where they said it did not suit them and as she came out she met the policeman who charged her.
WILLIAM JAMES BODMIN . (Re examined). Brushfield Street is the opposite side of Bishopsgate Street, about three-quarters of a mile from Barbican—previous to my stopping her I had traced her to two refiners, where she had taken in silver answering to this description—she said the man who gave her the parcel was dressed in a, light coat and light hat, and had on a blue tie and a turned-down collar.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOT. Prosecuted; MR. WAITE. Defended.
ELLEN COGGER . I am housemaid to Mrs. Ann Bell, widow, of 17, Highbury Grange, Islington—shortly before 10 p.m. on the 13th June I heard a noise in the attic, as I was going to bed—the room was kept locked, as a lumber room, and there was a padlock outside the door, and a bell over—I went down to give an alarm, and on coming up I heard the bell ring—I went upstairs with a policeman and found the padlock burst open, and one of the windows broken—the next house was empty—I did not miss anything, and I did not see any one going off.
HAROLD WALL . I live at 4, Highbury Grange, opposite No. 17—I was leaving my house in company with two friends on the night in question, and in consequence of the alarm I got on the wall at the back of No. 17—I had been on the wall between two and three minutes when three men came over the wall with a jump—they did not see me, because between me and the wall there was a lamp which cast a dark shadow—they walked away about 150 yards—there was another gentleman with me, who, having slippers on, could not run—I jumped down and raised a cry of "Stop thief!"—the three men ran about three hundred yards, and after that one went one way and two another—I followed the two; they turned to the right—after I got round the corner I should think I followed them about ten yards, when the prisoner turned and came back, and said to me, "What is the matter?"—I said, "It does not matter what is the matter, come and chase these thieves," and he did so—we ran for about one hundred yards, and he dodged about—I then kept him in conversation, when a policeman came down and I said, "A burglary has been committed, I want your assistance to find the thieves; they are somewhere about here; there are three of them"—he said, "All right"—I said, "You can take this one; he is one of them"—the prisoner appeared much astonished—I saw nobbdy else running.
Cross-examined. This was about a quarter to eleven—it was a darkish night—I followed them about three hundred yards before one of them turned away—when the prisoner broke away he was about twenty yards ahead of me—I was near to them when they went round the corner, perhaps five or ten yards—I could not identify the other men—they had darkish clothes, and were respectably dressed, as far as I could see—I never lost sight of the prisoner, except on going round the corner for about five seconds—I swear it was nobody else who came back—I ground that upon the fact simply that when I went round the corner the two were still running, and he turned back—I followed the two—I had not heard him speak—I do not identify him by his voice or his clothes, but by his turning back; if it were not for that I could not identify him.
DAVID PARKHURST . (Policeman N 231). I received the prisoner into custody from the last witness, who was holding him, with several gentlemen round him—he said, "I give this man into custody for robbing 17, Highbury Grange; I saw him come over the garden wall"—I afterwards went to the premises and examined them, and found a window and the door broken.
GUILTY .— Twelve Month' Hard Labour.
MR. WAITE. Prosecuted; MR. J. P. GRAIN. Defended.
JAMES CORNER . I live at 107, Parker Street, St. George's-in-the-East, and am first cousin to Mary Donovan, deceased—I have known the prisoner for two years; I saw him at the deceased's house in April last, and I asked him if his friends knew anything about the death of Mary Donovan—he said they were all dead—I told him I was first cousin to the deceased—he said I was nobody—I told him there was an uncle and a sister in New York—I bade him good night and came away; I also told him she had a brother living in Ireland—I have seen the deceased's brother—he came about eight days after she died—when he was written for.
Cross-examined. I am a labourer in the employ of Deane and Grant—I am no relation to the prisoner; I do not know whether he can read or write. have nothing to do with the Probate suit—the claimant has the Brother; I do not claim any part of the deceased's property—I did not assist in the burial; I believe the prisoner buried her—I know he works on board ship; I do not know that he is the relation of the deceased's—the detective and brother and the brother's wife took me to Bow Street to charge the prisoner with perjury—there was no solicitor with us—I do not know Mr. Leathey—I do not know the parish priest of the neighbourhood where Mary Donovan died—I saw the solicitor at Bow Street; I did not know who he was—I do not know whether he is here—I had not told the prisoner of the brother before her death—I said so at Bow Street—I was never in Ireland.
JOHN HARLOW . I am a solicitor and a commissioner for taking oaths, of 39, Southampton Row—the prisoner was brought to me on the 28th April last—he swore this affidavit; the words "died intestate" and "next of kin to the deceased" were in the affidavit when he swore it; also the words "to the best of my knowledge, information, and belief"—I very carefully explained it to him as he was a marksman.
Cross-examined. The affidavit contained the words: "Died intestate a widow without the children or parent, uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, child or grandchild, and that I am the lawful cousin german and the next of kin of the deceased," and its ends up "to the best of my knowledge, information and belief."
PATRICK O'CONNOR . I live at 16, Green Arbour Court, Golden Lane, st. luke's, and am a labourer—I knew Mary Donavan; she was my niece—I last saw her alive about two months ago in Old gravel Lane, where she lived—I was afterwards told that she died on a Tuesday night, and I never knew anything of it till Friday evening, and I went into the house where she was lying dead—I saw the prisoner there; he asked me who I was—I told him I was her uncle, and that there were two brothers of hers in Ireland; he made no answer—he went out of the clergyman's house, and I went out after him—when he went down to the clergyman's I asked him what the clergyman said, and he asked me what I wanted of the clergyman—I went to the clergyman, and told him I was her uncle, and that she had two brothers in Ireland. and if there was anything the brothers ought to ought to have it.
Cross-examined. I do not know anything about the prisoner being any
relation to the deceased—I do not know whether I said at Bow Street he was the deceased's husband's brother—I knew her husband—I do not know the name of the parish priest—I was told he had some of the woman's money—the name is Angelo Lucas—I went to the lawyer's office—they took me to Bow Street—I was in Ireland about two years ago.
HENRY MORRIS SPELLAIN . I am a greengrocer's assistant, and was first cousin to Mary Donovan—I was living with her when she died—I know the prisoner, and have seen him since her death—I told him the night she died that Mary Donovan had brothers in Ireland; he said he was master of the house, and all the property was going to him—I saw her brothers Michael and John in Ireland about a year ago and spoke to them.
Cross-examined. I am about 18, and am employed in the Commercial Road—I only saw the prisoner twice before Mary Donovan died—I do not know exactly where he lives, but I know he lives in Wapping near the deceased, who kept a little general shop—I do not know that the prisoner used occasionally to assist her after her husband's death—I saw him once in the shop when drunk, and once when he came to borrow 10s.—I know that the deceased's husband was his brother; he died before her—I am first cousin to the deceased; my grandfather and her father were brothers—I have seen the brothers in Ireland, but never in England—I saw Connor after Mary Donovan died; not before—I never saw the Connors in company with the prisoner; one of them came the following night after her death—the prisoner attended to the necessaries of her burial—I did nothing because it was not in my power—the prisoner's wife is downstairs—I have not been threatening her outside the Court; I have not told her that I could get this man twelve years—I did not say to anybody that I would get him twelve years—I was talking about some other case to another person that I heard some one talking about—I said he would get 12 years—I heard some person talking about a case down below just before going into the indictment room—I swear I have not told anybody that I would get the prisoner 12 years or a very severe punishment—I was never in his wife's company except at the time of the funeral.
Re-examined. I do not know that there has been a general quarrel downstairs among the witnesses in this case—I do not remember the detective cautioning me not to speak to the woman.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—July 1st, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
GUILTY. of the attempt. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, July 1st, 1881.
Before Mr. 'Recorder.
MR. RIBTON. Prosecuted; MR. THRONE COLE. Defended.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am in the service of Robert James Farnham, horse-cloth maker, of Cheapside—on 10th May, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I was sent with three rugs, value 35s. to Mr. Grant's, Bishopsgate Street Within—the prisoner came up to me at the corner of Liverpool Street, and said" Are you going to Mr. Grant's?"—I said "Yes"—he said "That is my parcel"—I had the book with me and asked him to sign it—he said "No, there is another one to come; I will sign when you bring the other parcel; I will wait for you at the corner by the public-house"—I went back and described him, and when I got to the public-house he had gone—I picked him out from about a dozen others at Worship Street Police-court on the 28th, and have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined. It was eighteen days afterwards when I picked him out—it was in a passage outside the cells, where prisoners wait their hearing—I saw some policemen there.
GEORGE WRIGHT . (Police Serjeant H.) I received a description of the prisoner and took him on 20th May—he was remanded for a week, and Taylor saw him on the 28th, with ten or twelve others, in the cell passage, and walked right up to him—he denied the charge.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY**. to a previous conviction at Westminster in August, 1878.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
641. WILLIAM MUEPHY (18) , Unlawfully wounding William Middleton. The prisoner hating been acquitted of the felonious wounding (See page 312),and the facts being the same, the Court directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL. Prosecuted; MR. FULTON. Defended.
WILLIAM PLOWRIGHT . I am a carpenter of 71, Skidmore Street, Stepney—I met the prisoner in April, 1880, at a public-house; he wished me to have a glass of drink on the success he had met with in being appointed broker to the Inland Revenue—he said that Mr. Humphreys, the coroner, was a great friend of his, and had asked him if he knew of any person who was likely to become a candidate for the office of collectorship to the Inland Revenue; that the registration fee was 1l. 1s., and Mr. Humphreys would appoint on his recommendation—I met him next morning by appointment; he had a letter drawn up which I signed and paid him the fee—the appointment was to be worth 100l. or 150l. a year—he gave me this receipt: "Received of William Plowright 21s., as registration fee re Inland Revenue Collectorship, to be returned if not appointed. Henry Marks"—nothing had been said about the fee being returned—he called on me ten or twelve days afterwards, and said that me and Mr. Knight must consider ourselves very fortunate if we got elected for the paltry sum of a guinea each, and in future if anybody asked me what fee I had paid I was to say two guineas, as Mr. Humphreys, seeing a lot of money in his desk, asked him what it was, and he said that it was the registration fees of the candidates, and upon being told that the fee was a guinea, Mr. Humphreys said "That is not sufficient, Marks, you give me one, charge two, and. keep the other yourself—I gave the prisoner the guinea,
believing the tale to be correct—I afterwards went to the Inland Revenue and saw Mr. Humphreys—I have not been appointed collector.
Cross-examined. I am not aware that the appointment has been made—I have known Marks two or three years—he said that there were sixteen vacancies—he did not say that I was a very lucky chap, my letter had been handed in, and he thought I had got it.
THOMAS RICHARDS . I am an engraver of 143, Grove Road, Mile End—on 10th June the prisoner called on me and told me he had a vacancy which he recommended me to fill up, and that Mr. Skinner, of Mile End Road, sent him to me as a likely person to fill the vacancy, which was a collectorship of Inland Revenue—I told him to call next day and I would give him an answer—he came next day with a written form, and asked me to write a copy of it, stating that I had never been a bankrupt or liquidated, and that I could find sufficient security—I paid him two guineas, and he wrote this receipt: "Received of Mr. T. Richards 2l. 2s., to be returned in full if he is not elected to the post. Henry Marks"—I paid him because he told me he would put my name on the nomination paper on payment of the fee—I saw him afterwards and he told me I should have the money back the following Friday—I had received a telegram before that.
GEORGE SKINNER . I am a printer of 524, Mile End Road—at the end of May or the beginning of June the prisoner called on me and said he had been appointed broker to the Inland Revenue, and was authorised to obtain candidates for collectors—he asked if I would become a candidate and I consented—he said that it would not take much of my time and the remuneration would be considerable—I copied an application and he said he would lodge it—I paid him two guineas registration fee, half then and the other guinea two days afterwards—he gave me this receipt (produced)—I printed 50 copies of these forms by his instructions, but he never had them(These were headed "H.M. Inland Revenue Department," and were blank applications for candidates to appointments.)
Cross-examined. I have not heard that he gave my application to Mr. Waldron—I have known him about fifteen years, and never knew anything against him.
MOSES MORRIS SANDERSON . I am a traveller—in May last year the prisoner called on me and said "Morris, I think I know of something very good for you"—I said "Well, what is it?"—he said "The fact is I have been appointed broker and appraiser to the Commissioners of Inland Revenue"—I said "What do you mean by that?"—he said "It is the office where the Queen's taxes are collected, and I have to distrain on those parties who are in arrear; you must know I am particularly acquainted with Mr. Humphreys, the coroner, in fact we are almost like brothers; it is a situation which will not, I think, interfere with your time; it will cost you a guinea for registration fee, but you will have to find security for a large amount, which you can obtain through the Guarantee Society; a letter dictated by me, written by you to Mr. Waldron, will be given to him"—he said that Mr. Waldron was chief clerk under Mr. Humphreys—I gave him a guinea, and he wrote this receipt in my presence (produced)—he said that my parish would be Hackney, and the election would come on in about a fortnight—I afterwards received this letter. (Dated May) 18, 1880, from the prisoner to the witness, engaging to secure his election, and stating that he could still hold his own post.) I afterwards
wards received this letter from the prisoner: "Sir,—I am sorry to inform you there is no election, and according to agreement I shall return you the registration fee on 2nd August"—he absconded before that date.
WILLIAM SANDERSON . I am an oil and colourman, of 62, Burdett Road—in July last I saw the prisoner; he said that through another party's default in not paying him the second guinea there was another vacancy open in the Inland Revenue Department, and if I paid him 2l. 2s. registration fee he would endeavour to get me appointed—he said that he was broker to the Inland Revenue—I gave him 19s. worth of goods and the remainder in cash, and he gave me this receipt for 2l. 2s.—I saw him a day or two afterwards, and requested to have my fee returned—he said that he would do so in a day or two—I asked him if he would pay for the goods—he said "No, you may send for the goods and have them back"—I saw no more of him—I never got the situation.
Cross-examined. I had known him for two or three months before.
LORD KNIGHT. I am a stone merchant, of Devon Square, Mile End—I saw the prisoner in May last year; he said that he was a broker to the Inland Revenue, and there were likely to be eight vacancies for collectors, and asked if it was worth my while to entertain it—I said "Yes"—he said "you must send a letter to Mr. Waldron, and there is a guinea to pay for registration"—I said "To whom is it to be paid?"—he said" you can pay it to me if you like," and I gave it to him—he gave me this receipt, which says "To be returned if not elected"—I never got my money back.
JOHN THOMAS CRADDOOK . I am a grocer, of 84, Clinton Road, Mile End—the prisoner used to call on me—I told him I was getting on badly, and wanted a little extraneous help—he came one day and asked if I could get security for 1,000l.—I said "I dare say I might it necessary"—he said that he was broker to the Inland Revenue, that there were five vacancies, and Mr. Humphreys and he had been going through the books, and found that several of the income-tax collectors had got too much upon their books, and they were going to subdivide it, and if I liked no doubt he could get me one—he afterwards told me there would be a guinea registration fee to pay—he gave me a draft, and I wrote this letter. (Requesting Mr. Waldron to place his name on the list of applicants for collectorships.) I paid him 1l. 1s. and received this receipt. (For 1l. 1s., to be returned if not elected.) I was not elected, and the money was not returned.
HENRY WEATHERALL . I am a zinc worker, of Stamford Road—in June last year the prisoner asked me if I should like to be a collector of Inland Revenue, as there were 16 vacancies, that the fee was 1l. 1s., and that he was the Queen's broker in the Inland Revenue Office—my brother paid him 1l. 1s., and got this receipt. (For 12. 1s. to be returned if not elected.) He drafted this letter to Mr. Waldron, and I wrote it—I parted with my money because I believed his statement—I never got it back.
JOHN HUMPHREYS . I have been Coroner for one of the divisions of Middlesex for the last 21 years; I am also Commissioner for the Tower Division of Taxes—Mr. Waldron is my clerk—the Commissioners appoint collectors—I have nothing to do with the appointments, but I read the applications to the Board—I never saw the prisoner in my life—there is no registration
fee of one or two guineas—he is not the Queen's broker; his son is an errand boy in the office, but I do not know his name; he is called by his first name—I know nothing of these transactions.
Cross-examined. In consequence of my numerous duties I leave the management to Mr. Waldron—he has authority to do what He likes, subject to my approval—there may have been one or two collectorships to be filled up, but certainly not 16 or 18.
WILLIAM WALDRON . I am assistant clerk to the Commissioners of Taxes, Tower Division—23 or 24 collectors are appointed to that district—I engaged the prisoner for election work, checking cabs, or something of that sort, and afterwards took his son into my employ—there is no registration fee for collectorships—I never told him there were 16 vacancies—I never authorised him to write letters, and never employed him as broker; there is no such office—about the end of May he brought me three applications for collectorships—there were no vacancies at the time, but there was a probable vacancy—I did not know that he was obtaining these fees—he had no authority to use my name.
Cross-examined. He asked me if it was likely there would be a vacancy for a collectorship, and if there would be any harm in a friend applying—I said he could if he liked, and a day or two afterwards I received an application from Teesdale, and afterwards from two other people—I told him it was no use sending any more—the vacancy did not occur—I did not say that I would get him appointed broker to the collectors of the district—I dare say we have 200 applications a year—there is one vacancy in five years.
Re-examined. I have no register and no books.
WILLIAM HUNT . (Detective Officer). I received a warrant in July last for the prisoner's apprehension in Plowright's case, but could find no trace of him—I afterwards found him in custody at Crawley, in Sussex, and read the warrant to him—he said "Yes; I received the money; I had the money by me to repay them, but I heard there was a warrant for me, and went away; others induced me to do it; Mr. Waldron knows all about it; he received their applications, and threw them in the wastepaper basket; they would all have had their money if they had waited.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, July 1st, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILMOT. Prosecuted.
HENRY BLYTHER . I keep the Golden Lion public house, King's Cross—on the 21st June the prisoner came there about 11 a.m.—I was present—an envelope was brought to me containing this letter: "June 21, 1881. Dear Sir,—Would you mind let me have 3l. as I have got a Large order and I want to send it away by to-morrow. I would have come myself but I have got the Rhumatic Gout in my foot, it will be all right by my Brother son. I will come down and Pay you on Saturday morning. Your Friend B Constantine. Mr. Blyther."—I said to the prisoner, "You are not Mr. Constantine's son"—he said "No, I am his nephew; we are very much alike"—I said "I do not now either of you"—I
knew Mr. Constantine, of 19, Hope Street—I kept the prisoner waiting some time, and gave him 2l. in gold and the rest in silver, believing that he came from Mr. Constantine—he wrote this receipt: "Received of Mr. H. Blyther the sum of Three Founds for Mr. B Constantine 19 Hope Street Old Bethnal Green Road June 21 1881 [stamped] Thomas Constantine 8 Lucas Street Commercial Road East"—I asked him to go to the telegraph office, and took him to the station instead and made inquiries—I asked him from whom he came; he said from Mr. Constantine.
BENJAMIN CONSTANTINE . I am the prisoner's father—I live at 19, Hope Street, Bethnal Green Road—I know Mr. Blyther—I did not send my son with a request for 3l. on the 21st June—I did not write this letter—it is his writing.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy on account of his youth.—Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. POLAND. and CLARKE. Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY. Defended.
GEORGE HORACE BELL MOGER . I am an insurance broker, of 79, Cornhill—on Thursday, 14th April, the day before Good Friday, I saw Yelverton Daly—I had a conversation with him; he said he had a craft, the Firefly, that he wanted to insure her for 600l., and to proceed the next day—I effected the insurance, gave him the policy, and he paid the premium—he said he was the owner—he gave me this written order for the insurance: "Please insure the steamship Firefly, London to Boulogne; I go to-morrow morning; the underwriters are Sir Thomas Perkins and others"—it was between 8 and 4 in the afternoon of Thursday when I handed him the policy—I received a letter from him on the Wednesday, dated the 19th (Read, stating that the craft was lost, and that the prisoners had been drifting about in the dingy in a heavy sea till 6.30, when they succeeded in landing near Shellness Point, leaving the boat at the Coast Guard Station, and that he, Yelverton Daly, had just returned to town.)—he repeated the substance of the letter to me on the 21st—I believe I said he would require to extend the protest; it is usual to do so—Daly sent the policy in on the 25th—I made a claim on the underwriters, and endorsed the policy—the underwriters declined to pay—I had known Yelverton Daly four or five months before; he was on board a vessel called the Princess Lydia, which was insured by Mr. Hezeltine from London to Brighton.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. The premium was 1 per cent.—I do not remember Yelverton Daly saying "Won't you have the launch surveyed?" nor my saying" I think the insurance could be managed without a survey,"—I did not know the launch was lying at Greenwich—if this is the photograph he gave me it was not then mounted, and there was no name at the bottom, but I did not take much notice—this letter is endorsed "Firefly" by a clerk; my letters are put up in that way for reference—I did not ask for a survey—Percival Daly took no part in the matter, but simply stood there—I only had three letters; they were written by Yelverton Daly; the order for insurance, the report of the loss, and the letter referring to the policy.
City—on the 19th April Yelverton and Percival Daly came to my office to note a protest—Yelverton Daly, the other Daly being present, said he was the owner of the steamship Firefly—he mentioned Mr. Moger's name, and produced a policy of insurance and receipt—from what he said I prepared a protest—they both made a statement, which was afterwards reduced to writing—they came the next day and saw the draft—they arranged to come with the deck hand the next day—on the 21st the three prisoners came, and the statement was read from beginning to end—I read it over to them, and they signed it in the usual way, and each of them made a statutory declaration confirming the same, and I put my signature to it (The statement was read, and was to the same effect as the letter, stating the loss of the vessel. At this stage John Percival Daly and John Wentworth Dill withdrew their pleas, and each PLEADED GUILTY. MR. BESLEY. withdrew from the defence of Yelverton Daly, who afterwards conducted his own defence.)
WILLIAM WALTON . I am solicitor to Lloyds Committee—I was instructed by the underwriters to make inquiries into the loss of this vessel—Yelverton Daly called at my office on the 3rd May—he said he was sent by the underwriters—that was the first time I had seen him—he made a statement with reference to the loss of the vessel; I took it down in writing—I also saw the other two defendants, who made statements—I read the statements over to each; they said they were correct—Yelverton Daly afterwards brought me a letter, which he stated came from Sir Valentine Blake—he said he had bought the vessel of Sir V. Blake, and I asked him to send me a letter from him saying the vessel was in good order—this is the letter (Headed from St. John's Wood, and stating that Yelverton Daly had bought the vessel from Sir V. Blake for 600l.)—I also said I wanted the certificate of the engineer, and he sent the letter of the 7th May enclosing a certificate of Sir V. Blake's engineer, dated 7th May, and stating that he had examined the Firefly, and it was all right—he also wrote on the 8th: "Since writing I have obtained a sketch, and send a sketch showing the exact place where it broke"—these are my notes (produced) of what I took down.
Cross-examined by Yelverton Daly. It was said the vessel was in the river 10 days before—I do not know of any Chancery suit with Sir Valentine Blake—I know from the peerage' there is a gentleman named Valentine Charles Blake—we made sundry endeavours to arrest a Valentine Charles Blake; you were traced to his house—I have never seen a person of that name—Sir Valentine Blake is in Court, not Valentine Charles Blake—I have sent to Hatton Garden to find him—I did not succeed.
GEORGE WALKER . I am the landlord of the Ship and Lobster public-house, at Denton, below Gravesend—on the Thursday before Good Friday I saw Yelverton Daly about 11 p.m.—the other two prisoners were with him—they all slept at my house—Yelverton Daly said he expected a yacht called the Firefly, and wanted to know whether I had seen her—I said no—my public-house is on the river bank—I saw no yacht that resembled the one described to me—on Wednesday, May 4th, I saw Yelverton Daly, who asked me if anybody had been to make inquiries respecting his sleeping at my house—I said nobody had—he said "Should anybody make those inquiries, you don't know everybody who sleeps at your house"—I said "Of course you cannot remember everybody, some you can and some you cannot"—that was said in the presence of some boatmen.
Cross-examined. You mentioned nothing about a policy—you left my house before I was up—it was 6.20 a.m.—perhaps I did not get up before 10—I should not have seen the Firefly if she had come after dark—you said "I expect her down from London to-night, and we are going away in the morning to Boulogne"—I did not see her in the morning.
Re-examined. I did not see her on the Friday at all.
THOMAS BAND . I am a licensed waterman, and live at the Ship and Lobster Cottage, at Denton—on the Thursday before Good Friday I saw the prisoners—they asked me if I had seen a launch called the Firefly lying about there—that was after 11 p.m.—one of them said "I suppose she has gone on to Holy Haven," and Yelverton Daly engaged me to go down there with a boat to go to the Firefly—they asked me if I could hire a boat for two or three days to go with the yacht—I was up at 6 o'clock the next morning waiting for them—they said they were going in the town and would come back—I saw no more of them till three weeks after—I saw nothing of the Firefly.
Cross-examined. I did not say I had seen the Firefly go past—I came off the water at 9 o'clock—it was coming on dark—I was up at 5 o'clock on Good Friday morning—I came for you, and woke you up—you did not say if you found her below you would not come back, you said "We are going to walk to Gravesend, if we fall in with the launch was shall not come back, if she is not there we will engage you to take us to Holy Haven;" and you asked me if I could engage a dingy to take with you to Boulogne.
WILLIAM WILLIAMSON . I live at Strood—I am a water policeman on the Medway—I own several boats—last Good Friday I saw the prisoners on the esplanade at Rochester, about 11 a.m.—Yelverton Daly asked me if he could have a boat at 2 o'clock in the afternoon—he paid a shilling deposit to my father—they returned about two—I had a boat ready called the Violet—I had also a smaller boat lying there, and Yelverton Daly wished to have that one—it had no name—I said it was not for hire, and tried to put him off, but he would have that one, and I let him have the boat without a name—they paid three hours in advance, half-a-crown—they rowed away from Rochester and did not return, nor did the boat—you can get to Shellness and Warden Point by rowing—I inquired for the boat and could hear nothing of her—on Friday, the 13th May, I went with Mr. Greenley to Laisdale, near Sheerness—I there saw my boat in charge of the coastguardsman—she was much better for a dingy than any other boat—I have no doubt about her being the boat—I afterwards went to Newgate and picked the prisoners out—I have no doubt about them—my boat is not much use now.
Cross-examined. It could not be seen that there was no name—the boat had a mast and sail—you took them out and gave them to me—some people don't understand a sail, and I do not take notice of such little matters, because I have seen plenty of people who appeared to belong to the water who know nothing about a sail—I should think they would rather have a sail if they wanted to run away with a boat—I cannot see from my place to the other side of Rochester Bridge—I could not see any steam launch there, and I do not think there was any that day—masted vessels would remain below bridge—I said "If you can't get through through the bridge, leave her at the sun Pier, below bridge"—I did not say my name was Wells, but Williamson—I got no letter from you
addressed Wells—I should be glad to let the boat at 1l. a week—I thought there was something wrong when the boat did not come back, and I said "The boat is gone, we shan't see her no more"—you could have had her for the time for a few extra shillings—Rochester is 16 miles from the mouth of the river—a steamer could do it in two hours each way—you would be altogether seven hours out of your course going to Boulogne—passing the mouth of the Medway to go to Boulogne you have the tide against you, but by turning up into the Medway you had the tide with you.
WILLIAM SIMMONS . I live at the Coastguard Station at Shellness—the prisoners came to see me—Y. Daly made a statement to me about a steam-launch—he told me he had lost it about 12 miles off Whitstable—I saw the small boat—he said the screw shaft had broken—he gave me a report, and I reported to the Board-Trade—he told me to look after his boat—afterwards Mr. Williamson came and identified the boat as his.
Cross-examined. The weather was very bad the day you made the report—the swell had been very heavy from the Sunday evening; the Saturday was fine—I know nothing of the Channel—no doubt the vessel could be found if she is there.
WILLIAM GROVES . I live at Brunswick Road, Poplar—I was formerly engineer of the steam-tug Commerce—on Friday, the 6th May, I was employed on the Susannah—I saw Y. Daly on the 7th at a public-house; I was introduced to him by a man named Smith in Coleman Street; he was speaking to Smith about losing a yacht, and he told me he wanted a man to certify that he had overhauled the yacht on or about the 24th February—he promised me 10l.—I cannot read or write—I did not write "William Groves" to the certificate produced—Y. Daly said, "I will write for you"—I said, "You can if you like"—I know nothing of the Firefly; I never overhauled her.
Cross-examined. You did not say, "Are you the man who made a survey of the Firefly?" nor did I say "Yes;" you asked whether I was King, and I said, "No; I am Groves"—Smith instructed me, that is why I come to you—you said, "This is the engineer I was speaking to you about last night"—I cannot say what you required me to do, or where you wanted me to go; I lost my way and went home—you required me to go to the insurance company, and gave me a promissory note for 10l.—I burnt it—you gave me two—on the Sunday it was burnt by my wife—you said you wanted me to go and make a statement at the insurance office on the Saturday afternoon that I overhauled the Firefly on or about the 24th February, and I told you I wanted to go outside, and I forgot to come back; I expect I was drunk; I cannot remember how I got home—it is not probable I did tell you I made a survey of the boat—I did not sign the certificate, you guiding my hand, you wanted to guide my hand—whatever was written you wrote—I said you could if you liked—all you read was "William Groves, late engineer of the steam-tug Commerce"—I suppose the 10l. was for what you told me on the Saturday afternoon, you required me to go round to the insurance office—I did not make any survey—I did not know where I was going nor where I was—I have seen Mr. Greenley for the prosecution—I never said I made a survey. (Deposition read; "I was quite willing to take 10l. to say I had made a survey of this boat")—I said I might say it, it was the way the question
was put—I was not willing to tell any number of lies for those who paid me best; I never got the 10l., I have been paid my expenses, about 4l. 5s., I have been three or four times to the Mansion House besides coming here; I think I was to be prosecuted if I did not come here; I never knew such a yacht as the Firefly.
Cross-examined. Mr. Marsh lives there; I do not know that he is Charles Blake's friend; I cannot say Blake never dined there; Mr. Marsh is lodging there now.
JAMES CARD . I live at 12, The Terrace, Gravesend—I am the master of a coal hulk, commanding a view of the river off the Ship and Lobster, at Denton—I was on board on the 14th April, and on Good Friday—I saw no steam-launch Firefly on the river on those days, nor 10 days previously; if one had been there I must have seen it.
Cross-examined. I got up about 5, and was there at 6—I cannot swear no steam-launch came in the night; I was not there after dark—no Firefly has come there for the last three years.
EDWIN FREDERICK CROFT . I am managing clerk to Mr. Hazeltine, solicitor, of 15, Coleman Street, City; Y. Daly was a clerk in his service till about three weeks before Good Friday at 30s. a week—he called himself a civil engineer—he was there for three years.
Cross-examined. you made overtime—you mentioned an invention you had brought out connected with the electric light, and that you had got some money—you left because you had some cash.
HENRY WEBB . (City Detective Sergeant) I took Y. Daly into custody on a warrant on the 9th May—I told him I was a detective officer, and held a warrant—he said, "Who are you? you are a fool, go away man; my name is not Daly, my name is Henry"—I said, "I hold a warrant"—he said, "What do you hold a warrant for?"—I said, "Conspiring with other persons in defrauding Mr. Perkin and others in insuring the Firefly"—he said, "Yes; that was my yacht; I bought her of Sir Valentine Blake"—he said, "You are talking nonsense; I won't go;" he resisted, and I and another officer made him go—we searched him and found on him a card with Mr. Groves's name and address.
Cross-examined. You said "Do they mean to say I have scuttled her?" and I said "No, I do not believe you scuttled her, because I do not believe there was any such yacht at all"—I went to Charles Street, Hatton Garden, to find Valentine Charles Blake—I found Blake's wife—I had a conversation with her about this matter; she did not admit the signature of the letter was her husband's—she said she thought you had got him into trouble, and he wished he had never seen you.
Re-examined. I cannot find Valentine Blake—the address at Hatton Garden is Dill's address—Dill's mother resides there.
SIR VALENTINE BLAKE, BART . I live in Ireland—I have seen this letter at the police-court; it is not signed by me; I know nothing of it—I am not Valentine C. Blake, but Valentine Blake—I know nothing of this case, but I have travelled from Ireland to come here.
Cross-examined. It is a fact that my half-uncle claimed to be Sir Valentine Charles Blake, and there was a troublesome lawsuit which the High Court, of Chancery in Ireland has now decided in my favour—I
once wrote to the Irish Times complaining that they had reported Mr. Blake as Sir Valentine Blake.
(The prisoner in defence stated that the other prisoners had thrown up the sponge rather than contend against Lloyds, but they did not say they were guilty not one fact in their claim was contradicted. They left England about 5 a.m., and the details in the protest were correct; they went to Rochester because they did not want to go against the tide, and so took a run up the Medway, leaving the boat below bridge. They hired a boat for a row in the river, and as their own boat was leaky they took it on the launch. He wrote to Mr. Band, asking for his account, but the letter must have been lost. It was not his fault if V. C. Blake was a timid man and disappeared, and therefore could not come and say he had sold him the boat; the vessel was still to be found, about 15 miles from Herne Bay or Whitstable, and Lloyds could search for her, but the prosecution having been begun by some hot-headed member of that body, they knew the effect of a failure to convict, and felt bound to go through with it.)
GUILTY . Y. DALY.— Two Years Hard Labour. P. DALY and DILL.— Twelve Months Hard Labour Each.
MR. BESLEY. Prosecuted;. MR. PURCELL. Defended. The alleged libel was contained in a letter addressed to the prosecutor, accusing him in opprobrious language of ill-treatment of his son's (the prisoner's) wife, and also of having got rid of his own wife. The writing was spoken to by several witnesses as resembling the prisoner's; the prosecutor stated that arrangements had been proposed to stay all proceedings, but had failed on account of non-agreement as to costs.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, July 2nd, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BESLEY. for the prosecution, stated that an explanation having been offered and accepted by the prosecution, he offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
647. JAMES FOSSETT (40) and HENRY THOMPSON (49) were indicted for unlawfully conspiring by false pretences to deceive and prejudice the creditors of Thompson, and to contravene the provisions of the Debtors' Act of 1869. Ten other Counts varying the form of charge.
MESSRS. BESLEY. and WOOLFF Prosecuted;. MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS.
appeared for Fossett, MR. GEOGHEGAN. for Thompson.
HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I am Superintendent of Records in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the matter of Henry Thompson described as of No. 99, Columbia Road, Hackney, and 38, Victoria Dock Road, Camden Town, Essex, leatherseller and bootmaker—the petition was filed on 9th June, 1880—in the requisition for notice to be sent of the first meeting I find the name of James Fossett, 45, Globe Road, Mile End Road, alleged to be a creditor
for 170l.; the statement of affairs was presented at the first meeting on 25th June—I find the name of James Fossett as a creditor for 181l. 9s. 2d. on five bills of exchange, 170l. is the amount of them, with interest at 10 per cent., 11l. 9s. 2d.—I also find an affidavit of Fossett on the file stating the particulars of the five bills—on the back of the proof there is an objection by Mr. Morris, the chairman, on the ground that certain bills are dated prior to the dates of the stamps; there is a resolution for liquidation by agreement—on the meeting of 26th June Mr. F. A. Rawlings was appointed trustee—there was a committee of inspection—the unsecured creditors are put down at 1,598l. 10s. 3d.; the assets are estimated at 299l. 14s. 6d
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was solicitor for Thompson during the bankruptcy proceedings—I filed his petition—he is very deaf—my impression is that he was not present when Fossett was cross-examined as to these bills, but I should not like to swear one way or the other—I think he was sent for after some conversation between Fossett and the chairman—I can't say whether he is an illiterate man; I know nothing about him except that he came to me on 9th June recommended by a client.
Re-examined. I did not prepare his accounts; I did not know that the last two bills were on stamps of June—I was very much surprised when it was pointed out to me by the chairman at the first meeting.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I know nothing of Fossett beyond having seen him at the first meeting of creditors—I was present at the meeting when the genuineness of the bills was discussed—there was a great deal of squabbling and talking, as there often is at these meetings—I should think there were 12 or 13 creditors, and solicitors and clerks—I did not hear the question put as to when the money was advanced; I did not take any notice of the conversation between Fossett and the chairman until the question of date was pointed out, and then I remember when this objection was put on the back of the petition, Fossett denied that he had used the words" at the time the bills were given"—he said "I said I advanced the money about the time," but whether he used that word or not I can't say, I was not paying attention.
THOMAS LEWIS NOTTAGE . I am clerk to Messrs. Munns and Longden, solicitors to Mr. Rawlings, the trustee under this liquidation; they are also private solicitors to Messrs. Bevington and Morris—I attended the first meeting of creditors on 21st June at the office of Mr. Hill; Mr. Morris was elected chairman—I should think there were 12 or 15 creditors present; there were about 20 persons in the room; there was no disturbance at the meeting until after the dates on the stamps of the bills had been pointed out—the first thing done is for the creditors to hand in their proofs—no creditors are allowed to vote except those who hand in proofs; I believe the proofs were all handed in together—the bills were produced on that occasion; that was the first time I had seen them—I examined the dates on the face of the bills with the dates of the Inland Revenue stamp, and I saw that one of the two last bills purporting to be dated on 2nd March was on a stamp of 5th June, and the other purporting to be dated 5th April was on a stamp of 4th June—I at once called Mr. Morris's
attention to that privately, and I heard Mr. Morris put the question to Thompson "When was this money lent to you?"—he said "At the time the bills were handed over"—I think the question was repeated twice, because Thompson was deaf—Mr. Morris then asked Fossett when he lent the money to Thompson, and he replied "At the time the bills were handed over"—Mr. Morris then explained to the meeting the discrepancy between the two bills—Fossett then said I said about"—Mr. Morns did not tell the meeting what Fossett had just stated, because they had heard it; I am sure he had not said about—this note was then made on the back of the proof—Fossett more than once said he had said the word "about," and the creditors said "No you did not."
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I did not take any memorandum of what was said—I put it on the back of the proof—there was no short-hand writer present—I don't think I said be fore the Magistrate that he used the word "about"—it is so stated in the deposition; it must be a mistake—I did not correct it; I did not observe it—it was not a noisy meeting for a meeting of creditors—we got an order from the Bankruptcy Court directing a prosecution, we took that to the Treasury, and they appointed us as their agents.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. There was no other proof objected to at this meeting—I will swear that Thompson was present while Fossett was examined—I believe I was filling up a resolution at the time—I believe the question was put twice to Thompson—I believe he understood it.
FREDERICK HALL MORRIS . I am one of the partners of the firm of Bevington and Morris, wholesale leather merchants, 28, Cannon Street—we were a creditor of Thompson's for 358l. 1s. 7d.—I produce a bill of exchange of Thompson for 67l. 17s. for goods supplied, which fell due on 4th June, 1880—it was not paid—we pressed for the money, but had not time to take proceedings—on his petition being filed we got the usual statutory notice for the first meeting of creditors, and being the largest creditors I was elected chairman—amongst other proofs Fossett's affidavit was put before us, with these five bills, which were the securities referred to therein—my attention was called privately by the solicitor's clerk to the difference between the dates of the last two bills and the stamps—before saying anything on the matter I put some questions to Fossett—Thompson was in the room at the time—I asked Fossett when he received the bills that he tendered, and his reply was, "When I lent the money"—I asked him if he was sure; he said, "Yes"—I said, "At the time?" he said "Yes"—I then said to Thompson, "When did you give these bills?" he said, "At the time the money was lent to me," or, "At the time I received the money," I won't absolutely say which—as far as I was aware, no one but Mr. Nottage and myself at that time knew of the discrepancy between the dates and the stamps—I then asked Thompson if he was sure, he said "Yes, I am"—he heard what I said to him—I was particular in making his answer distinct—I then turned to the meeting, and pointed out the discrepancy on the last two bills, and immediately I said that Fossett shouted out, "I said 'about!'"—I said "You did nothing of the sort," and I appealed to the meeting, who had my question and his answer, and the whole body of them were of my; opinion—the endorsement was then made by Mr. Nottage—I objected to the proof, and stated my intention of accepting no composition whatever, in face of the facts that had just been brought forth.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I was not called before the Magistrate—I had all the bills in my hand, or in front of me, at the time this passed.
Cross-examined by M. GEOOHRGAN. I cannot tell how often I repeated the question to Thompson, but I asked him till he heard it—I don't know his handwriting—I asked him a great many questions previous to this—this question terminated the examination—I can't tell you how long he was under examination—I did not take notes, only of assets and liabilities—there was no other proof objected to—there was a suggestion that Thompson's brothers should be objected to, or looked into, but it was not acted on at that meeting—I don't know that Fossett's brother's was objected to—the meeting was as quiet as any meeting I have attended up to the time this was found out—as a rule, a great many questions are asked, sometimes by two or three people at the same time, but that was not the cass at this time—when Thompson was under examination the man was so deaf I had to shout.
Re-examined. The questions I put were about the general disclosure of affairs, until Fossett's proof—I believe a composition was proposed before this discovery, and afterwards I would accept none.
By the JURY. I saw the whole of the bills—there were no discrepancies between the others, only these two.
BECHARD TINE HOOPER . I am a partner in the firm of W. Hooper and Co., wholesale leather merchants, of Bermondsey—we were creditors of Thompson for 81l. 14s. 8d. on two bills, one for 38l. 14s. 1d., another for 43l. 0s. 1d.—none of those bills had matured at the time of the filing of the petition.
CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am one of the official short-hand writers to the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce my original notes taken on 28th October and 29th December, 1880, of the examination of Thompson, and of the 15th December of the examination of Fossett—the transcripts are on the file—they are correct transcripts of the original notes. (The examinations were put in and read in part.)
FREDERIOK ADOLPHUS RAWLINGS . I acted as trustee of Thompson—as such, certain books of his came into my possession—Mr. Chitty, my clerk, under my supervision, has gone into the contents of those books—one of them is a book referred to by Thompson in his examination as containing all the credit sales—altogether about 250l. has come into my hands as assets, but I have disbursed some of that—deducting Fossett's claim there is about 1,400l. due from Thompson—I sent a notice to Fossett, through my solicitor, of the rejection of his claim, and received a letter from him expressing his surprise.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. I was examined before the Magistrate, and stated, "I was present at the examination of Fossett; he gave no explanation as to the date of the stamp and the date of the instrument; he said, 'I think the money was lent at the time the bills were dated; he stated that he borrowed 40l. of his father and 20l. of his brother, the money that he lent to Thompson."
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Mr. Chitty made up these figures; he was not in my service at the time of the petition, not till about six months afterwards—it was Mr. Dunbar who made up some of the figures, he is not here; Mr. Chitty made use of his figures—out of the 250l. about 70l. is the balance in hand left for the creditors—the 250l. was
made up partly from the sale of stock; it was sold by auction in the usual way—I was not present at the sale—I don't know that the goods were sold at a sacrifice, or at less than half cost—I have seen a loan-book of Thompson—I don't know how much he had to pay weekly for it.
THOMAS CHITTY . I am clerk to the last witness—I have paid close attention to Thompson's books—there is no trace in them of any loans by cash from Fossett, or of any securities such as bills—those five bills are not entered at all—I find entries of goods supplied by Thompson to Fossett in the name of Weston amounting to 21l. 6s. 1d., and 8l. 13s. 4d. was paid by him on the 18th May, when the first bill would be falling due—I find between 11th June and 14th December entries of goods supplied to Fossett, and cash payments made by him when the third, fourth, and fifth bills were falling due, so that it would appear as if nothing was due at the time of the liquidation.
Witnesses for the Defence,
WILLIAM THOMAS FOSSETI . The prisoner is my son—I live at 45, Globe Road, Mile End—I am now out of business—I was 45 years a wholesale boot and shoe manufacturer at Bethnal Green—I have some freehold and leasehold property—the prisoner has been in business for himself at Walthamstow, in the name of Weston—there have been some unfortunate disagreements between himself and his wife, which have been the reason of his taking the shop in that name—he was foreman to Thompson—I have several times lent him money—I lent him 40l. last February twelve months—I gave 40 sovereigns to his brother for him, and he paid me 20l. of it in about four months—he owes me 20l. now.
Cross-examined. I was examined at the police-court—I keep no banking account, I always keep my money in the house—I took no memorandum for this loan—I keep no diary—it was at the latter end of February, 1880, when I lent him the 40/.—I am worth between 6,000l. and 7,000l.
ROBERT FOSSETT . I am a boot and shoe manufacturer, of 45, Globe Road, and am a brother of the prisoner—I have leasehold and freehold property—my brother has borrowed money of me many times—I lent him 20l. in March, 1880—I remember my father leaving a bag of sovereigns with me for him—I attended the meeting of Thompson's creditors—I was a creditor, and proved my debt—my brother was asked when he lent the money, and he said "About the time the bills were drawn"—there was a great deal of confusion at the meeting.
Cross-examined. I was examined at the police-court—I proved for 81l. 18s. 1d.—William Thompson, the prisoner's brother, was a creditor—I don't know what his claim was—it would be the end of February when I gave my brother the 40l.—I did not hear that Thompson was in difficulties until long after that—I don't think I heard of it until two or three days before he filed his petition—I keep no banking account—I did not take any receipts from my brother—I never lent money to any one but him, it was all in gold—I have not had any of it back—I heard that he wanted it for Thompson—I voted for Mr. Rawlings at the meeting—my claim was allowed.
Fossett received a good character.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutor. — Two Months' Hard Labour each.
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday july 2nd, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.,
MESSRS POLAND and PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. DIXON Defended.
ERNEST LUPTON . I am a stationer, of 4, Orchard Terrace, Starch Green—on 29th September, 1880, the prisoner owed me 6s. for paper; he brought me a cheque for 3l. 10s. on the London and County Bank, Oxford drawn by Blythe B. Brown—I gave him 8l. 4s. change, paid it to my bankers, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I ascer tained the prisoner's address, wrote to him, and afterwards received 2l. by letter, alter which he left 10s. at an office in the City—that is all I have got.
Cross-examined. I got a letter a fortnight afterwards—I have destroyed it—it said that he was sorry the cheque was not met, but he would endeavour to pay it—he lived close to me, and had a house full of furniture.
WILLIAM CORBETT . I keep a public-house in Goldhawk Road—I knew the prisoner when he lived in Dashville Road, Shepherd's Bush—on 2nd October he gave me this cheque for 7l., drawn to Self by Blythe B. Brown and asked me to cash it—I did so paid it to my bankers, and it came back marked "No effects"—I tried to find him, but he had left his house—I did not know that he was going to leave—I found out where I could communicate with him, and wrote to a friend of his—I pressed the matter and got 2l. on 12th October, and 1l. in November by postoffice orders—I got no more.
Cross-examined. I cashed a cheque for 3l. for him a month before, which was paid—on 7th October I received a letter from the prisoner which said, "I am afraid it is possible my cheque, which you so kindly cashed, may be returned, and if it should be, if you will let me know at the above address, I will let you have the amount at once, &c. I fully relied on an amount being paid in."
CHARLES WILLIAM GONGE . I am manager of the stationery department, 59, Pall Mall—on October 26th I received a letter from Blythe B. Brown, of Newington Manor, Bletchley, Bucks, asking for a catalogue and price list, which I sent, and shortly afterwards received this order for a ream of paper and envelopes stamped, 100 ladies' and 100 gentlemen's cards and a die, which amounted to 2l. 5s. 9d.—I executed the order, but have never been paid—I have seen the letters produced, the paper is similar to that which I supplied.
Cross-examined. We sent the order on October 30th—the paper is not the best quality, nor is it next to the cheapest—the account went in at Christmas—I have no reason to know that it will not be paid, only from what has happened since.
AUGUSTINE ROBERT WHITWAY . I am a barrister, of 9, Old Square, Lincoln's Inn—I have a house at Newton Manor, Bletchley, with shooting, attached—I advertised it last autumn, and received a reply from Blythe Barrington Brown, Dashville Road, Shepherd's Bush—letters passed, and then I saw the prisoner and let him the house and the shooting, at 170l. a year, soon after 29th September—he was given possession soon after—he never paid any rent, but since his incarceration
Rome arrangement has been made which satisfied my solicitor—the Sheriff went in and went out.
Cross-examined. The references were satisfactory, or I should not have let him have the house—he bargained a great deal to get it cheaper—the shooting is of some value—there is an orchard, but no land.
WILLIAM HENRY BOYD I am a commission agent, of 162, Coventry Road, Birmingham—in October or November last I received some letters from Blythe Barrington Brown, in consequence of which I sent him two guns, one at 6 guineas, in October, and one at 10 guineas, in, I think, November—I received letters acknowledging the receipt—I have never been paid—I took proceedings in the Mayor's Court.
By the COURT. That was because both the guns were sent from the City—the solicitor said that he might run the proceedings up to any amount, he should not pay—I had no wish to take proceedings in any Court particularly, I had given it up as a bad debt almost—I did not make an affidavit that I know of.
Cross-examined. I tried to get the money by civil proceedings in the Mayor's Court—I am not accessory to the criminal proceedings—I did not receive a letter from the prisoner offering to return the guns when I put him in the Mayor's Court—I do not have business in guns once in five years—I do not think I made an affidavit that the cause of action was in the City, I left that to my solicitor—I sent one of our apprentices to Bletchley, and the prisoner offered to pay the money, but he did not get it—the offer was 15l., and if a cheque had been enclosed I should have been delighted to have received it—I always open my business letters—I sent all these letters to my solicitor—the offer was not to return the guns, it was never mentioned—the apprentice told me what the offer was worth—the prisoner's father is a large farmer in that neighbourhood—I have never refused to receive the guns back—I was compelled to come here—he deliberately made a statement at the Lord Mayor's Court so as to run the costs up—the person who went to Bletchley is not here.
Re-examined. Fortunately I have no solicitor, but I consulted one—this prosecution was not commenced by me, but I was required to attend as a witness—I have seen the guns and the ticket of one of them—when the case came on I discovered that they were pledged.
RICHARD HILL . I am clerk to Cogswell and Harrison, of 226, Strand—the prisoner applied to them for a gun, and I sent this gun (produced)in part payment—we kept it in consequence of a communication from Mr. Skinner, and did not send the one asked for—the first letter is dated Feb. 9, 1881 (Mr. Boyd identified this as the ten-guinea gun, and stated that he thought it had not been used)—I do not think this gun has been used.
Cross-examined. There is no trace of it being used, but it would require a more practical man than me to tell—the prisoner did not exactly order a gun; it was simply an inquiry—I should prefer Mr. Harrison explaining why the prisoner's gun was not returned; he is not here.
EDMUND FRANK ANGEL . I am a watchmaker, of 10, Strand—on 9th November I received this letter from Newton Manor, signed "Blythe B. Brown" (asking for a gold watch to be sent, price not to exceed 12l.)—I sent five watches for selection, correspondence passed, and three were returned and two kept, value 26l., for which we offered to take 25l.—we have received nothing—this is one of them in Mr. Vaughan's possession, value 12l., and they say that this other one is ours, but I do not recognise it.
Cross-examined. The three seat back were the most expensive—the prisoner bargained, and we took 30s. off the two watches—we put an execution into his house for payment, or to get the watches back, but did not succeed—I do not know whether the prisoner paid the Sheriff's officer—we received a reference from the prisoner, wrote there, and got an answer that all goods sent down would be perfectly safe.
Re-examined. He also asked us to send a coffee-set, but we refused till the watches were paid for.
THOMAS LARNEY . I am a clerk to William Jenkinson and others, of 44, London Wall—in December we received a letter on stamped paper, from Blythe B. Brown, Newton Manor, Bletchley, asking for a price list of saddles—we sent, and received an order dated 15th December, for a full-sized set of harness with silver-plated mountings, to be sent, if possible, by Christmas day—we sent the goods by rail, with a bill for 9l. 3s., but have never been paid—I identify the harness here.
Cross-examined. I sent it because I made inquiries of a person who knew Bletchley, who said, "You need not be afraid of sending anything to Bletchley Manor."
JAMES FOSTER PENNY . I am manager to Parkins and Gotto, 24, Oxford Street—on 22nd December I received a letter asking me to send before Christmas day a bagatelle board and balls, as advertised in the Field—I did so, and received this letter, saying, "I have received your note, and will remit the amount in a few days"—I have never been paid—I have seen the board since, but not the balls.
Cross-examined. I sent them on the 23rd December—the letter-paper was stamped with a heading which. implied that it was from a gentleman's seat, and I presumed that a person of respectability lived there.
ALFRED CHARLES HODGES . I am manager to Negretti and Zambra, of Regent Street—on 29th December I received this letter, asking for a price-list of field opera glasses—I then received this (requesting the witness to send a six-guinea opera-glass as soon as possible, as it teas wanted for a new year's present)—I sent this field-glass (produced), and an invoice for 6l. 6s., but have never been paid.
Cross-examined. I got no letter acknowledging the receipt—I have applied for payment—we sent in a quarterly statement as usual last March—I supplied the goods on the appearance of the paper and the address.
WILLIAM LANGDON . I carry on business at 9, Duke Street, Manchester Square—I received this letter from Blythe B. Brown, of Newton Manor (ordering a hunting saddle with ventilating panel, for a stout horse 15.2 high)—I sent a saddle and box in January, which came to 6l. 4s.—I knew Newington Manor, and had sent things there three years ago—I have since seen the saddle in pawn at Mr. Vaughan's.
Cross-examined. There is no statement in the letter, which I have since found is correct—I made no inquiry about the prisoner before sending the saddle—I have not applied for payment, for all I know I shall be paid now.
EDWIN OLIVER . I am manager to William Wellington Greener, of 68, Haymarket, gunmaker—I received this letter: "Newton Manor, January—Please send me your price-list of breech-loaders;" and this: "Sir—Please send me one of your guns, 12-bore, rather strong and stiff, rather under 71bs,; I should like the left barrel cylinder and the right
choke, &c.—B. B. Brown;" and this: "Dear Sir—I shall be glad if you will send me one of your hammer guns; with regard to reference, I refer you to my banker's, in Oxford; please send a plain leather case"—the gun was sent; the value was 32l.—on 4th February I received this letter: "I like the gun extremely, &c.; I killed a pigeon this afternoon, at a very long distance, with the right barrel, too"—I also received this letter (stating, "I will remit you the amount at the end of the month, but must remind you that the price agreed on was twenty-seven guineas for the gun")—this (produced) is the gun I sent; it may have had a shot fired from it (other letters were put in, in which the prisoner offered to give a bill for the amount, and promising to call and see the witness)—he never did call.
Cross-examined. When a gun is cleaned you cannot tell whether a few shots have been fired out of it—I did not endeavour to obtain the money by civil proceedings—I sent it because from his letters I took him to be a gentleman of means—I took his postcard to the bank.
WILLIAM HENRY SKINNER . I formerly lived at 16, Eversley Road—I received this letter on this stamped paper: "Jan. 10, 1881. Sir,—If you have not sold the breechloader advertised in the Field I shall be glad if you will send it to me on trial," &c.—I afterwards received this letter (Referring, to the London and County Bank, Oxford, and ordering the gun to be sent; also enclosing a postcard from the bank which acknowledged a remittance)—I sent the gun, and then received this letter (Acknowledging the receipt of the gun, and saying that he would give 9l. for it, but that hammerless gum were now the favourites)—I then received, this letter (This said, "I will take the gun and case at 10l. and hope you will pay carriage; I will send cash next week, and leave it to you to return me a liberal discount"—I went to his house to get payment, and afterwards received this letter stating," Before I pay you for the gun I shall require a written apology from you and your friend for the abominable language at my house on Monday"—this is my gun (produced)—it went to the pawnbroker's—I heard that Mr. Boswell had received letters from the prisoner, and I stopped his sending a gun—I sent the gun believing he was a gentleman and would pay me.
CHARLES BOSWELL . I am a gunmaker at Edmonton—on 3rd December I received a letter from the prisoner stating that he should be glad to see the gun advertised in the Field, and asking if I would receive another gun in part payment—I was about to send three guns on trial, but received a communication from Mr. Skinner, and did not send them.
Cross-examined. The prisoner sent me a postcard of the bank, and I telegraphed to the bank, and was advised not to send them.
JOHN GEORGE TREDGOLD . I am a field and marine glass maker of the Old Kent Road—on 9th April I received a letter, "Please send me your price list. Barrington Brown"—on 26th April the prisoner called and said that he wanted to see a field-glass of great power—I showed him one, and he said "It is too heavy; I want it for hunting purposes; this one will make my arms ache while I am on horseback; I do a deal of hunting"—I said "What you require is an aluminium glass; that is very expensive"—he said "The expense is no object," and that he was staying at the Bedford Head Hotel, and was going home at 7 that night—I went there at ten minutes to six; he gave me some tea; I showed him a glass value 12l., but the light was not very good—he signed an approbation note, and I told him distinctly that it was on the understanding that the glass
should be returned in two days or a cheque—I afterwards received this note: "Dear Sir,—I was obliged to leave home this morning, and have had no opportunity of trying the glass, but hope to do so to-morrow"—I next received this: "I like the glass very much now that I have tried it properly, and will keep it; I will send you mine on Monday"—he had mentioned a glass by Negretti and Zambra, and I said "I dare say I can allow you about 3l. for it, but cannot say till I see it"—I then received this: "Dear Sir,—I am sorry I was from home when your letter arrived; I am coming down next week, and will bring the glass and the musical box"—he had said that he had a musical box which his children had got at, and it was out of order, and I said that I would put it right if possible—I went to Bletchley on 6th May, and went to Newton Manor, but the prisoner was not there—I then received this letter, dated May 7th, stating that the prisoner was very much annoyed, and thought the best thing was for him to return the field-glass, as he should not be able to pay the money for some time—I have never seen him since—I afterwards received this letter from Oxford: "Sir,—I am in receipt of your extraordinary letter, and considering your extraordinary conduct I should prefer returning them to the firm from whom you obtained them"—I have seen the glasses since; they were produced by a pawnbroker.
Cross-examined. I am ignorant as to whether hunting has ceased in April—I did not try to induce him to take the glasses; I had not got them when he called on me.
GEORGE LITTLECHILD (Police Inspector). On 25th May I went to Oxford, and found the prisoner at the police-station—I said that I was a police officer, and held a warrant for his arrest on a charge of stealing a fieldglass from J. J. Tredgold—he said "I did not steal it, I bought it of him; he pressed it on me"—I said "You will be taken to London, and charged with obtaining goods of Mr. Greener"—he said "I bought those likewise"—I asked his address—he said "Wheatley," which is a village six miles from Oxford—I said "It will be necessary for me to go there, as I am desirous of finding these goods and the gun"—he said "It is no use you going there, they are not there"—I afterwards went there, and received all these pawntickets from a woman who told me she was Mrs. Brown, and some I found in a drawer with a quantity of letters—among the tickets was one for a gun pledged at Whistler's in the Strand on 5th February, also one for a hunting-glass at Vaughan's, one for a bagatelle table and opera-glass at Gascoigne's, one for billiard balls pledged at Rolls's, of Bedford, on 20th March—one relating to Mr. Jenkinson's saddle, pledged with Mr. Vaughan; one for Mr. Angel's watches, pawned on 5th March for 7l. 10s.—Skinner's gun was pledged on 24th January for 5l. 10s.—here is a ticket from Powell for a double breechloader pledged on 8th January for 8l. 1s.—I found that the prisoner. pledged some harness, and I found all the correspondence from the various tradesmen at his lodgings relating to these articles.
Cross-examined. The only address he gave me was Post-office, Oxford, and I had observation kept on him there—none of these articles were ordered since he left Newington Manor.
THOMAS NEWSTEAD . I am assistant to Mr. Vaughan, pawnbroker, of 39, Strand—I produce a field-glass, an opera-glass, a double-breech loader, and a gold watch, and here are the tickets for them; Newton Manor is the address on all of them.
produce a gun pawned on 5th February for 9l., sent with this letter. (Requesting an advance on the gun.)
RICHARD PEAKE . I am manager of the Oxford branch of the London and County Bank—the prisoner opened an account there on 18th October, 1878—we at first credited him with several hundred pounds to commence with—the account went on, and the last transaction was a discount charge of 9l. 9s. in July last, which left a balance of 12s. 5d. to his account—on 30th September 5l. was paid in and something drawn out, leaving a balance of 2s. 1d. on the wrong side of the account—after that items were paid in to meet cheques—I returned cheques on September 21st, and subsequently, there being only a few shillings to meet them—these cheques for 3l. 10s. and 7l. were afterwards presented—on 28th November a small sum was paid in, and then there was 2s. 7d. against him.
Cross-examined. We did not close the account; the 2s. 1d. was repaid—when I was written to I wrote to Mr. Whileway saying that I could not give any information as to Mr. Brown's pecuniary position—this is a copy of my letter—I did not mention the state of his account—we retain title deeds of his, on which we have advanced 560l., which I consider is the mortgage value of the property—I have a valuation of the adjoining building land, which sold at a very high price—the land which we have the title deeds of is 43 yards frontage and 53 yards in depth; that comes to close upon 1,200l.—I told the prisoner that I would not advance any more upon that security—several cheques were returned after these two—the prisoner's property has not been valued, only the adjoining property—it is freehold—I allow 25 per cent, margin for the safety of the bank—at a forced sale it would realise about 700l.—we renewed the promissory note several times after serving the valuation.
Re-examined. Nine cheques have been returned—we took some property conveyed to him by his father—notice was given to him that nine guineas was charged against him for charges, and he paid it in cash.
Cross-examined. I received one cheque which was paid—I then received another for 9l. 17s., but was written to not to present it.
Cross-examined. He left between Midsummer and Michaelmas.
MR. DIXON contended that there was no case to go to the Jury, as all the cheques but the last had been paid. The COURT overruled the objection, but would if necessary reserve the point.
GUILTY on all the counts but the sixth and seventh .— Judgment Respited.
OLD COURT.—Monday, July 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
THOMAS PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. WITTY Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.
EDWARD LATTER . I am a City detective constable—on 17th May I received information of a robbery having been committed in Guildhall Chambers, Basinghall Street—I went and saw Herbert Thomas, a lad employed in one of the offices there—I took him to the police-station, where he said something to me—I afterwards went to the business premises of the prisoner Bourne at 2, Moor Lane, and saw him there—I asked if he had bought any goods from a lad during the last three months; he said "What sort of lad?" I said "A lad about 15;" he said "What sort of goods;" I said "Office goods;" he then said "Yes, I did, I bought an arm-chair and some waste paper the other day;" I said "Anything else?" he said "Yes, I think so;" ne went to the back of the shop, and produced two office chairs—I then searched the prisoner's premises with his consent—I produce a list of goods I found at his shop, and another list of goods I found at his private address, two office chairs, two door-mats, two post-office directories, &c.—I asked the prisoner if he kept a book, and if he had entered any of these articles in his books; he said "I don't know, I will look"—he looked and found no such entries—I went to Bourne's private residence next; he did not accompany me, his nephew did—I found there a portion of these goods—I left word at his place that I wanted to see him, and I showed him all these things; he said "Yes, I had them from the boy;" I then asked him what he gave for the letter-cabinet; he said 2s. 6d.; I asked him what he gave for the inkstand and fittings, he said If.; for the office arm-chair 2s. 6d., and 9d. for the others, and 1/2 d. or 3/4 d. per pound for the books—I went with him to the station and confronted him there with the boy Thomas—the boy said "That is the man that I have sold the things to; if it had not been for him I should not have taken anything; he told me to search in every corner of the office, and anything I could find, bring it to him and he would buy it"—Bourne said "I said no such thing"—I confronted him with the boy on a second occasion; the boy said "That is the other stuff I have stolen, and I have not received 10s. for the lot"—I told him in the presence of the boy the statement the boy had made about him; he said "No such thing"—the prisoner carries on business as a rag-merchant.
Cross-examined. There are several sets of offices at Guildhall Chambers—when Thomas made the statement against Bourne he said "I never told him any such thing"—Bourne's shop is exactly opposite the police-station—he did not hesitate before he brought the chair to me, or in telling me the prices he gave for the things—he gave me permission to go wherever I liked about his premises—I don't know that he—deals in waste paper—this was the first time that I had seen him to my knowledge.
Re-examined. I have some of the things here (producing them)—the lock of the cabinet was forced when I found it.
RICHARD ASSBETON . I am housekeeper at Guildhall Chambers—I identify the whole of these things produced—the arm-chair and inkstand belong to me; I had lent them to One of the tenants—I missed some of the things three or four months before Thomas was given into custody—the arm-chair was the last thing taken.
THOMAS FORRESTER . I am an inquiry agent and occupy an office" in Guildhall Chambers—Thomas was in my employ; I never authorised him to sell any goods belonging to mo—I did not give him one of my cards to
take to Bourne but they were open in my cabinet, and he could take one without my knowledge—I did not miss any property until it was shown to me at the police-court; it was only a few letter-books, a law list, and one or two little things.
Cross-examined. This is an old law list of 1877—I may know Thomas a writing (looking at a paper)—I should not say this was his I should rather say it was not—I have been in these chambers since Christmas last; I moved at Christmas time from an office below—the furniture in this office is not mine, it is a furnished office—I was at one time in partnership with a gentleman named Death—I did not at that time send to Bourne for the purpose of selling him some samples, I don't know whether my partner did; he might, have done.
JAMES WILLIAM SMITH . I occupy some offices at Guildhall Chambers—I identify the bulk of the property produced, this chair, a lot of books and papers, two drawers, and a box—I did not miss them till the discovery was made—I did not occupy the offices myself; they were in my own occupation, but I had sublet them to Mr. Forrester.
RICHARD ALFRED MARCH . I am an accountant, and have chambers in the Guildhall Chambers, on the third floor—I don't occupy them, but I store some goods there, and occasionally use the office; but my own offices are in Old Jewry, where I am secretary to a public company—I identify some of the property produced—this case was locked up in my office the office was broken into, and this was taken—I found my letter-paper was there as I left it—I discovered the loss of these things at the end of December, or the beginning of January—I sent my boy there for letters and he came back and told me that the office had been broken into and these things stolen—the lock had been forced—I believe the cost of this cabinet was from 30s. to 2l., I can't swear to the exact value.
HERBERT THOMAS (the Prisoner). I have known Bourne since January last—I went to his place, and took him a large ledger—I have visited his warehouse with goods, it might be once or twice a day—I took the ledger to him, and asked if he wanted to buy it—he said "Yes, and any other property in the office I will buy; I will buy any office property."
Cross-examined. He was a stranger to me when I took the ledger—there might be one or two gentlemen who are in Court, when I took the property there—I did not go right into the place, I only went just round the corner where they sort some cloths or something—I did not cell him I was employed at the office when he said he dealt in office property—I saw that gentleman (Mr. Houghton) there I think once, but not when I took the property first—I didn't know that he was Mr. Bourne's assistant—he has not bought anything of me—another gentleman has—I don't know his name—I don't know that I took any woollen patterns there when I first went—I don't know that he deals in woollen patterns—I can't remember that I took him any, it is such a long while back—he did not pay me 5d. a pound for the woollen patterns—he did not give me 5d. a pound for anything—I do not remember going there with woollen patterns more than once—I asked him whether he bought woollen patterns, and he said "Yes"—I did not say "Will you lend my governor a big"—I said "Will you lend me a bag to bring it in," and he said "Yes"—I believe that gentleman sitting there (Mr. Kromray) gave me the bag—he was not there when I took the waste paper—he was when the bag was given—Mr. Bourne never told me any price for it, he gave me a halfpenny a
pound for it—I did not say I came for Mr. Forrester, of King Street, Cheapside—I said "We have offices in Guildhall Chambers"—I said nothing about King Street, I said Cheapside—I did not take him a piece of paper with Mr. Forrester's name written on it—I took him a card—I don't know why—I don't remember pretending to give him Mr. Forrester's private address—I can't remember, it is so long back—I did not tell him it was old office furniture—I said the governor was changing his offices—that was true, because he had changed his offices from downstairs to upstairs—I said "He wants to sell his old office furniture, will you buy it?"—he said "I will buy office property, is there anything else you have to sell?"—I said "I don't know"—he said "Well, look round, and see if there is anything else"—I told him that my master had some old suits of clothes to sell—that was after I had taken the office furniture—I did not say four suits—I said "My governor has some suits of clothes at home that he wants to sell," that was not true; I do tell lies—when I handed the card to him he said, "Bring the furniture to me and I will buy it"—he did not say, "Can I see it?"—I did not say, "The governor will send them round"; I said, "I will bring them round"—I brought two chairs round openly on my head between I and 3 o'clock in the day, after I went back from my dinner—he said, "How much do you want for these?"—I can't remember if he said, "How much does the governor want?"—I said, "I don't know how much he wants"—I cant remember whether he said, "If the governor is not satisfied with the price bring back the money, and I will let him have the goods"—I can't swear he did not say so—when I told him about the clothes, I said, "Can you send for them?"—I don't remember his saying, "Why does not the governor send all the things at once?"—I don't remember saying, "Because he has not got all his new furniture in"—I won't swear I did not say it—I don't remember saying, that as my master purchased the new furniture he sold the old; I won't swear I did not say it—Mr. Bourne bought two door-mats of me, and some other gentleman bought some door-mats of me also—I know Mr. March's room; I broke it open with an old poker—I did not break the lock, I put the poker and the door went open—I did not break open the cabinet, I believe it was open when I stole it, I can't swear it—I had not got the suits of clothes at the time I said my master had them to sell; there were no clothes at the office—I did not intend to sell any; I don't know why I said it—this paper is not my writing; I don't remember taking it; I can't tell whether I did or not.
Witness for the Defence.
FREDERICK HOUGHTON . I am assistant to Mr. Bourne; I have been in his employment a little over five years—I know the lad Thomas by his coming into the shop; I believe the first time was six or seven weeks before the police came; he first brought a few pounds of woollen patterns; Mr. Bourne deals in those things, and he bought them; he then brought some more patterns the same as the first, and he then asked Mr. Bourne if he bought wastepaper; Mr. Bourne said "Yes;" he then asked if he would lend his governor a bag; Mr. Bourne said, "Who is your governor?"—he said, "Mr. Forrester, of Cheapside," I can't exactly remember whether he said any street or not—I gave him a bag by Mr. Bourne's direction; and I believe I paid the lad the money; he afterwards brought a bag full of wastepaper with some old books in it in a dirty condition, and Mr. Bourne
paid him 7s. a cwt., that was at the rate of 3/4. per lb.—he came a few days afterwards with some more paper; I believe the second time he came he said to Mr. Bourne, "Can you buy some old boxes and old chairs?"—Mr. Bourne said, "Can I see them?"—he said, "My governor will send them round"—Mr. Bourne asked who was his governor, and he gave him a printed card of Mr. Forrester's—I took the card from the boy and gave it to Mr. Bourne—the lad afterwards came with two chairs on his head; I took them from him; Mr. Bourne examined them, and said, "How much does your governor want for them?"—he said, "My governor did not say the price, but do the best you can for him"—my governor gave me 1s. 9d., and said, "Pay the lad 9d. for one and 1s. for the other," and he said, "If your governor is not satisfied bring back the money, and I will return the chairs at any time"—on one occasion he gave me this paper, and said, "My master has got some old suits of clothes, can you come and fetch them?"—Mr. Bourne said it was not worth his while, and put the paper in his pocket intending to give it to Mr. Levy, who deals in old clothes, but he forgot it, and it was kept in his pocket, where it was found about a fortnight after he was taken—I sometimes bought articles of the boy myself, and paid him with my master's money—I never had the slightest suspicion of the lad, or we should not have bought the things.
Cross-examined. We do occasionally buy furniture, but not to deal in it—I took the chairs off the boy's head, and I and Mr. Bourne purchased them together—we gave plenty for them, they were in such a dirty condition—I heard them talking about 5s. for the writing-case, but I did not take much notice.
THOMAS SUMMERS KROMRAY . I am a German—I have been in Mr. Bourne's employ about 18 months—I have been present from time to time in the shop when Thomas has brought articles to sell, he first came with some woollen patterns—I am always in the shop, I take my meals there, I was present at all times when the boy came—there was no concealment; I had no idea it was a dishonest transaction.
WILLIAM TANDELER . I live at 39, Ash Grove, Mare Street, and am a leather and shoe merchant—I have known Mr. Bourne about 10 1/2 years as a thoroughly respectable man—about two months before this charge I was at his shop between 1 and 2 o'clock waiting for him to come in, and while there I saw the boy Thomas bringing some books and some paper, which were bought by Summers Kromray—it was done perfectly openly.
HERMANN KROMRAY . I have been in Mr. Bourne's employ about two years—I was present when Thomas first came with some cloth patterns; I took them myself—everything was done perfectly openly—I bought this cabinet of him, and gave him 5s. for it, two half-crowns—I gave him 5d. per lb. for the cloth patterns and a few books and wastepaper.
THOMAS JOLLY DEATH . I was formerly in partnership with Mr. Forrester—I have known Mr. Bourne 15 years—I had some dealings with him with some cloth patterns; it was not a complete dealing, he was sent for to offer a price for some cuttings which Mr. Forrester had bought, but he did not offer sufficient money.
Bourne received a good character.
BOURNE— NOT GUILTY .
There were two other indictments for stealing and receiving some of the same goods, upon which no evidence was offered.
THOMAS— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
After opening the case MR. MANN, at the suggestion of the Court, offered no evidence against the Prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted.
SOPHIA BEAVER . On the 24th May last I was lodging at 1, Ford Street, Canning Town, in the house of Mrs. Goes—a woman named Elizabeth Maddison lives at No. 2—I saw the prisoner in the house between six and seven o'clock, and also the prosecutor Hart, who was in Elisabeth Maddison's room, and Harriet Grouse and Mrs. Maddison—I went out to fetch some ale and change for a sovereign—when I came back I found the prosecutor and the prisoner and the two women still in the room—they drank the ale—Hart was intoxicated—I got a second half-gallon when the prisoner gave me a two-shilling piece, and I brought him 1s. change—he was then standing by the bedstead—when I got back he and Mrs. Maddison left the room—Mrs. Maddison came back immediately after, leaving Hart outside—I saw the prisoner standing by the table with a purse in his hand, counting the money, and he laid out the silver and coppers on the table—I saw the purse contained gold, but I did not see how much—Mrs. Maddison then said to the prisoner that Hart was coming back—at that moment Hart opened the door and came in, and Harriet Grouse picked up the coppers from between the silver, and said to the prisoner, "The coppers belong to you," and she put them in her own pocket, and the prisoner picked up the purse and put the purse and the silver in his pocket—the prisoner and the two women went out and left the prosecutor in the room—I followed them out, and they went into a little room on the next landing—I stayed on the landing—I attempted to open the door, and the prisoner said, "We don't want to have the blot in it"—Harriet Grouse came and shut the door—I stayed outside and heard her say to one of them, I think it was to Maddison, "What will he do when he finds his money cone?" and the prisoner said, "You leave that to me, I will see him all right"—there was no other man in the room besides—the prisoner then came out, and as Mrs. Maddison and the prisoner were going into Mrs. Maddison's room again I said to Mrs. Maddison, "If anything comes to light you know I am chief witness," and she said, "Go down stairs, we are going to try to get him away now"—I afterwards went down, and heard a quarrel upstairs, and Mrs. Maddison went upstairs before me—I saw the prisoner strike Hart in Mrs. Maddison's room—he knocked him across the bedstead, and the second time he knocked him along the washstand, which I believe caused him to cut his head—I said to Mrs. Maddison, "You had better give it back to the prosecutor, and if anything comes to light I shall have to go as witness," and she said, "Wouldn't you like to see it?" I said, "You might well like to see it, when you have got the poor man's earnings"—Hart was then asleep—he was not asleep when
the prisoner struck him—when he struck him I heard him say, "Are you coming? I am going"—then I heard him hit him in the face, and when I came down stairs I saw Hart standing by the bed, and that is where he punched him—Hart said to him, "Jack, you are a rogue and a thief"—I heard him say to him again, "You are a thief and a liar, Jack"—I said to Hart, "Master, look in your purse"—he looked in his purse, and said, "It is gone," and he found 2d. in it; and I said I would go for a policeman—I went for a policeman, and told him what had occurred—when I came back they were all downstairs in the kitchen—they all appeared before the magistrate.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I drank some of the beer upstairs—when you pulled out the gold I did not see how much you had—you pulled out silver and coppers—I think I drank a second glass of beer—Hart was naked—he did not offer me any money—he did not run after me—Hart said afterwards that you had knocked out one of his teeth—I do not know whether it is a respectable house, except that I live there, and am treated respectably—I am a servant, and always stay there when out of a situation—there are six rooms in the house—I am eighteen years old—all the rooms are set up with beds—I do not believe you were quite sober.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. LEVY Prosecuted; MR. FILLAN Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
EMMA SMITH . I live at 189, Lewisham High Road, and am shop-woman to Mrs. Smith, who keeps a Berlin wool shop—on Saturday, 14th May, about 1.30, the prisoner made a purchase in the shop—I did not serve her—on 19th May I saw her in the shop about the same time—she
asked for a ball of ice wool that came to 6d.; she gave me a half-crown in payment—I looked at it and took it upstairs to get change, and tried it—I came down and told her it was a bad one, and asked her if she knew it—she said she did not—she gave me a good one in the place of it; I gave the bad one back to heir—I then fetched a constable—I locked the shop door, locking the prisoner in, and went to a neighbour's house to send Mr. Atkins in—I brought a constable back to the shop—I told him she had given me a bad half-crown, and that she had given a bad two shilling piece on the Saturday before—she denied coming in the shop before then.
Cross-examined. I told her I was going for a policeman, and called for the servant, and she took hold of me and put her arm round me to prevent my going—she said she had not a friend in the world and she aid not know it was bad—she seemed very much agitated—she did not try to get away in my presence—she was in the shop alone for several minutes while I was gone upstairs for the change.
ELIZABETH SMITH . I serve in the shop—I am the daughter of Mrs. Smith, who keeps it—on Saturday, 14th May, the prisoner came in between 1 and 2 o'clock, and asked for some crewel silk, which came to fourpence—she tendered me a florin in payment; I gave her change and she left—I took the florin up to my brother, who tried it, immediately after she had gone—I found it was bad—I kept it by itself, and on 19th May, when she was given into custody, I gave it to the constable—I was with her while the last witness went for the constable—I said to her "You came in on Saturday and gave me this bad two shilling piece"—she said "Oh, no, I know nothing at all about it"—I said "I know I took it from you"—she persisted in saying she knew nothing about it—she said she had taken the half-crown at the hospital—she did not say what hospital.
Cross-examined. She was rather excited—she spoke rather hurriedly and said a great many things—she said she did not remember coming into the shop on the Saturday—she had the opportunity of getting away—she was alone with me two or three minutes while my cousin went upstairs for change—the shop door was locked when she went for the policeman.
CHARLES TURNER (Policeman R 199). On 19th May I was fetched to the shop and saw the prisoner there—Mrs. Emma Smith said that the prisoner had tendered a bad half-crown—I asked where it was; the prisoner had it in her hand and gave it to me—Mrs. Smith also said that the prisoner was in the shop on the Saturday previous and gave a bad florin; at the same time giving me this florin—the prisoner said she did not remember being in the shop; as to the half-crown, she said "I am an unfortunate girl, and a gentleman gave me this bad half-crown last night"—I asked if she had any more bad money—she said "No," and handed me this purse; it contained a few halfpence and a good half-crown.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries about the prisoner, and found she has always borne a good character; her father is an old man-of-war's-man of 20 years' standing, and has a pension—her right name is Angel; she said she gave the name of Wilson because she. was afraid of her father losing his pension if any stain was thrown upon his name—she said she was in service at a wine stores near the Elephant and Castle,
and that a man had taken her away and drugged her—she left her last situation in September last.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I know nothing whatever about the two-shilling piece. The young man I was living with gave me the half-crown. He took me from my place, saying that my sister was ill, and gave me something which drugged me. He has since been convicted, and got 12 months for uttering.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.
The Jury in this case being unable to agree were discharged without giving a verdict. The prisoner was subsequently charge before another Jury with the same offence, when no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BAYLIS Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN CORRINGTON . I am foreman to Hicks and Co., who have a contract for laying a tramway in Plumstead Road, and there were some granite stones there—on 12th May I was going to breakfast, and saw a horse and cart loaded with stones—I saw no name on the cart—Richard Newman was the carman; I spoke to him—I had given no order for the removal of the stones, and no one else had authority to give orders—I went to Bridge Tavern, and found some more stones, which I identified as Messrs. Dick's, value 6l., including those in the cart—I went into the bar of the public-house, and found the prisoner there—I did not speak to him, but asked the landlord in his presence if he knew anything about the stones; the prisoner answered that the landlord did not—I asked the prisoner what he was going to do with the stones; he said that he was very sorry for bringing them there—after we left the tavern he said that if I would not say anything about the stones he would take them back—I told him I had no authority, and went down the tramway; he followed me—I then went to the station and gave him in charges—he said "There is more than one in it; Lovedale gave me permission to take them."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said that the landlord had nothing to do with the matter; you were the person who brought the stones there—you did not say then that you bought them of Lovedale; you said you had arranged with Lovedale—I went into the yard of my own accord, and you followed me—you did not say anything about one of your men placing them in a small heap, so that Lovedale might measure them—you laughed and made light of it—I live close to where I found the cart—it is half a mile from where you took the stones to where my men were working—you did not say that you had bought the stones of Lovedale,
and he was responsible for it—the tramway is 4,000 yards long, about two miles and a quarter.
RICHARD NEWMAN . I am carman to George claydon, of 26, Jackson Street—on Wednesday evening, 11th May, he gave me orders to let him have a horse and cart in the morning—I went round on the morning of 12th May with a horse and cart, and saw the prisoner—I asked him where I was to go to; he said "On the Plumstead Road," and that he would be there—I went there; he stopped at some stones, and said "These are them"—they were lying by the side of the road—I loaded them, and took them to Bridge Tavern—he went with me, and showed me where to put them—he assisted me with three loads, but he did not go with me with the fourth—he said he thought that would be sufficient—he gave me a pint of beer, and told me to go back and fetch another load, and while I was doing it Mr. Corrington came and asked what I was doing—I gave him every information I could.
Cross-examined. There was nothing in your conduct to lead me to suspect that anything was wrong—you assisted me to load the cart, and spoke to several people who were passing—a gentleman in a trap stopped and spoke to you, and you went into the public-house opposite—I believe it was market day—I am workman on the tramway—they were at least 300 or 400 yards from the railway bridge.
Re-examined. Those men were laying the new tramway down—I took the stones from the other side of the railway bridge, not nearer the works, about 400 yards away.
GEORGE CLAYDON . I am a corn and coal agent, of 4, Herbert Buildings, Plumstead—on the Wednesday previous to 12th May the prisoner came and asked me if I could let him have a horse and cart next morning to remove some stones; he said that he should want it till 11 o'clock, and he would come in the morning and show the man where the stones were, which he did—I have known him a very short time.
HENRY SAUNDERS . I am a licensed victualler of Bridge Tavern, Plumcould not leave the stones in the street or the children would take them away, and I took the liberty of putting them in your yard"—the foreman afterwards came and asked my wife if I was aware the prisoner had stolen them—I said "No"—the prisoner was at the bar—they walked out, and nothing more was said in my presence.
Gross-examined. You did not ask my permission to place them there—I never spoke to you—I had only just taken the house, and you had only been there once, and I cannot say the date—I have no convenience outside; persons have to go into the back yard, and would see the stones—my impression is that Corrington asked if I was aware that you had stolen the stones, not that he said "What are you doing with those stones?"—the house is not a quarter of a mile from the tramway.
Re-examined. Persons could see the stones through the gate without going into the yard.
GEORGE LOVEDALE . I am a paviour under Mr. Corrington—on a Sunday morning in April I saw the prisoner; he had a paper with him—nothing was said about paving-stones, nor did I give him authority to take any—I had no authority—there is no truth in the statement, and he knew that I had nothing to do with the work.
Cross-examined. Previous to 12th April I had given a contract for 5,650l. to the Plumstead Board of Works; my tender was not accepted, and you came to me on the Sunday and read in the paper the result of the tender—we walked along the road and saw some stones, but you did not say" Those are very nice stones; if I want a ton or two could I have them?"—I deny making arrangements with you about the stones—I did not wish you to pledge your word that you would not send in a tender—you said that I need not be frightened of you—I did not say "What about those stones about which we spoke at Easter?"—I said nothing about the stones, and you never asked me for any.
GEORGE DEAR (Policeman R 266). On Thursday, 12th May, Mr. Corrington gave the prisoner into my custody for stealing a lot of paving-stones; he made light of it, and said "I have just made arragements to have them taken back."
The prisoner called the following witness who had been a witness for the prosecution before the Magistrate:—
JENKINS. I am a foreman in the Royal Arsenal, Wolwich, and quarter-master serjeant in the Royal Engineers—I have served over 21 years—I was in your company when you met Lovedale—you did not introduce me to him as contractor for the tramway, but as foreman pavior for the contractor—you said nothing about the purchase of stone—I do not think I was above three or four feet from you all the time, and I must have seen it—we went and had a glass of beer together, and were together about a quarter of an hour.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he bought the stone of Lovedale at 30 s. a ton, and openly assisted the carter in removing them where they were to be stacked up and measured; he thought he was dealing legitimately with them; that he was well known in Woolwich, having done all the work for the garrison in the engineering department, and he contended that it was not likely that he, living close to the spot, would jeopardise his position, and disgrace himself for these tons of stone, Mr. Lovedale and his two sons passing and repassing to their breakfast at the time.
NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS CLAYDON . I am a draper, of New Cross Road—on 17th between 8 and 10 a.m., I saw the holland (produced) safe in the lobby—it was outside the shop, but not in the road—I went out, and did not see it again till a policeman brought it into the shop.
JAMES FLETCHER (Policeman R 82). On 17th May, about 12.30, I met the prisoners; Young was carrying this holland in her apron—I spoke to policeman R 244, went into a lodging-house, and saw Young lying on a form with this price-ticket under her—I said "Where is that which you had when you came into the house?"—he said "I don't know what you mean"—I then saw O'Brien putting the holland under the bed—she said "It is a fair cop"—I took her in custody.
JAMES MAYNARD (Policeman R 244). I was with Fletcher, and saw the prisoners in Mill Lane—Young had something bulky in her apron; they went into a lodging-house—I went in, and found Young lying on a form—I lifted her up, and found this ticket under her—Fletcher asked what she had done with the stuff she had in her apron—she said "I don't
know what you mean"—while he had gone to look for it she said "A man gave it to me to get a night lodging."
The Prisoners, in their defences, stated that they were drunk.
GUILTY . YOUNG was further charged with a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in 1875, sentence Seven Fears' Penal Servitude.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. O'BRIEN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
WILLIAM LUCOCK . I am a greengrocer, of 52, Tower Street, Waterloo Road—on 23rd May I closed my house about 7.30 p.m., and on returning found that it had been entered by the staircase window, which was wide open—I missed a suit of black clothes, a child's cap, and a necktie from a first-floor bedroom—I have not seen them since.
AARON TOPHAM . I live next door to Mr. Lucock—on 23rd May, about 10.30, I saw a man on the wall of the back yard with something on his arm like clothes—I can't swear to him, because it was dark, but I spoke to him.
MORRIS JACOBS . I live at 56, Tower Street, next door to Mr. Lucock—on 23rd May, between 10.30 and 10.45 p.m., the prisoner asked if he might come through my shop—he said "I have been having a row in a lodging; will you let me pass through?"—I said "Yes," and he walked through from the back—he first walked to a cupboard thinking it was the door—he had nothing with him.
SAMUEL VANDERLUCHE . On 23rd May I was sitting in Mr. Jacob's room, between 10.30 and 11 o'clock, and the prisoner came in; I asked him what was the matter—he said "Oh nothing, Mr. Charlie, I have only had a row at the back"—I did not know him—he went over to the cupboard; we both pointed the way out, and he walked out.
AARON TOPHAM (Re-examined). When I saw the man on the roof I wanted to see what he had got—I followed him along; he left the things on the roof, and I found them there; they were a black frock and jacket—I gave them to the police—I stopped on the roof till the police came—the man went down Mr. Jacob's yard, and I saw him go through the door—I never lost sight of him.
He was further charged with having been convicted of felony at the Surrey Sessions in September, 1868.
BENJAMIN BRIGHT . I am principal warder at Millbank—the prisoner was under my charge there under a sentence of 12 years, which expired last September—he was under my supervision on several occasions—he was backwards and forwards.
Cross-examined. He was backwards and forwards to a lunatic asylum; on several occasions he went to Broadmoor—there was also a sentence ofthree years' penal servitude against him in 1864 for possessing house-breaking instruments.
GUILTY.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. STEWART WHITE Prosecuted.
GEORGE NATHAN CHART . I live at. 25, Elliott Road, St. George's—on 21st May I was going home, and within a few doors of my house the prisoner came behind me, put his arm round my neck, put his hand into my right-hand pocket, took out 15s., threw me down and nearly stunned me—when I recovered I went down Kennington Road and informed the police—I found my watch chain broken and my watch gone—that is it (produced).
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had had a glass of ale, but I was not drunk—you kicked me about the body and knocked my head on the kerb stone—I went to work next day, but I was very sore—I went to the watchmaker's next morning and obtained the number of my watch.
GEORGE WALDER (Detective L). On 21st May, about 11.30, I received information and went to Mr. Bone's shop, a jeweller, in Southwark Bridge Road—I remained there a quarter of an hour and the prisoner came in; Mr. Bone handed him this watch; he paid 10s. for repairing it, and then I took him in custody—he said "All right"—on the way to the station he said "I knocked a man for it last night whom I used to lodge with, named Taylor"—I found 6s. in his boots and 2s. 2d. in his pocket.
Cross-examined. There were nine persons with you when you were identified—some of them were your size.
SAMUEL BONE . I am a jeweller, of 106, Southwark Bridge Road—on 21st May, about 10.30, the prisoner brought this watch and asked me to put a hand and a glass to it, as it was his govenor's, that is Mr. Morley, who keeps a shop a few doors off—he said he had to get it repaired for him as he had broken it—I had repaired it six weeks before, and had kept the number and the owner's name—Chart afterwards came in and asked me to give him the number as he had had it stolen—I gave him the number, and afterwards the detective came, waited till the prisoner came to fetch it about 11.30, and took him in custody.
The prisoner produced a written defence stating that he was employed in the secret service of the police, and that Sergeant Harvey could account for the watch being in his possession; that a gentleman offered a reward of 100l. for a gold watch and chain which had been stolen from him, and he had made use of the watch in the present case us a means of detecting the thieves; that Taylor said he did not like to go into the jeweller's shop in case he should be detained, and that he (the prisoner), not wishing to lose the means of discovery, took the watch to the jeweller's shop and told Taylor when it would be done, promising to be at the corner of the street; that Sergeant Harvey then came up, asked him if there were any reports of the previous night, and he said "no," but that he should have something else for him, meaning the present case. He further stated that when arrested he told the detective the name of the thief and that he would be at the corner of Great Suffolk Street at 12 o'clock, but that they were satisfied with having somebody in custody and did not go there. He contended that a gross injustice would be done by convicting him, and that Taylor would escape; but that if he was set at liberty he would aid Sergeant Harvey in bringing Taylor to justice.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell in August, 1879, in the name of Thomas Nolan.
RICHARD HUMPHREYS . I am a warder of Cold Bath Fields—on 26th August, 1879, I was at the Clerkenwell Sessions when the prisoner was convicted of stealing money from the person—he hadnine months' imprisonment—the money was found in his boot then—I produce the certificate.
Cross-examined. I swear you are the man—I saw you every day duringduring your imprisonment.
GUILTY.*— Five Yars Penal Servitude.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted; MR. THORNE COLE defended Pulley.
MARY ALICE BELL . I am a widow, living in Compton Street, Soho—on Saturday, 7th June, I was in Lambeth Road carrying my purse, which contained 1l. 12s. 6d.—I was sauntering by, as I had some little time to wait—three men came round me, a stick was put between my feet, and I fell on my chin; I rose up and got two fearful blows on my face, and dropped my purse—I can't identify the man—I staggered to some steps almost unconscious—a woman bathed my face, and two hours afterwards I met a gentleman, who gave me information, and I went to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. The road was not crowded, there were no stalls in the street—my purse contained a sovereign, a half-sovereign, two shillings, a sixpence, some papers, and a ring—this all happened in a moment—I went to the station at 9 o'clock.
GEORGE GILLIS . I am 11 years old, and live in Lambeth Road—on 11th June, about 5.30 or 5.45 p.m., I saw Mrs. Bell in the road and her purse in her hand—I saw the two prisoners—Pulley gave her a blow on her face and took the purse out of her hand—they came back in half an hour into Joiner Street—I told a policeman, and he took them to the station—another man was with them.
ALBERT HANSON . I am 13 years old, and live in Lambeth Road—I was with Gillis about a quarter to 6 o'clock, and saw Mrs. Bell, and the prisoner Wallis pulled her down with a piece of string, and Pulley knocked her purse out of her hand, and ran away with it—they came back in about half an hour—Gillis spoke to the police, and we gave them in charge.
CHARLES DIBSDEN . I am 12 years old, and live in Lambeth Road—I saw Pulley give Mrs. Bell a punch in the mouth—they snatched her purse from her and ran away—they came back half an hour afterwards to St. George's Tavern, and Gillis gave them in charge—I have no doubt about their being the men.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I saw them taken—we did not call "Stop thief!"—there was a glassblower with the lady.
HENRY MELLOR (Policeman L 115). On 11th June, about 6 o'clock, I received a description and took the two prisoners—I told them the charge—Wallis said, "I know nothing about it"—while he was at the station he said, "It is hot"—Pulley said nothing—Mrs. Bell came to the station about 9 o'clock, and them I charged the prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I did not: see Mrs. Bell at the station that evening, I did on Monday morning—the inspector is not here.
GUILTY . Wallis was further charged with a conviction at Lambeth in January, 1876, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
WILLIAM CUNDY . I am a carpenter, of 41, Market Street, Southwark, near Newington Causeway—on the 19th June last, about 12 p.m., I was in that neighbourhood standing at the corner of Rockingham Street, when a young man came up and said something to me—I did not take any notice, and he moved away towards Southwark Bridge Road—as I went on he joined some more, and when I got past them I was attacked by two or three and thrown on the ground—I was hit under the chin; I do not know who hit me—the prisoner got hold of my watch and I caught hold of his coat, and he dragged me along on my face, and pulled me over the stones, and I had to go to the doctor—he left his coat behind, and a constable took it to Stone's End Police-station—I got up and followed him, and saw him running up London Street, and then I lost sight of him—when crossing London Road I saw him again at Gaywood Street; when I came up I found him being held by the witness Lockwood—this is my watch which I lost.
THOMAS DEAR . I am a decorator, of 21, Ellis Square, Walworth—on the night in question I saw a scuffle outside a public-house, when I saw the prisoner and three young men pull the prosecutor down backwards, and the prisoner hit him under the chin, and as he fell down he snatched at his watch and pulled it away—the prosecutor had hold of his coat, and I was just going to catch hold of the prisoner, but he ran away—I ran after him, and kept at his side—I was frightened of having a blow.
JOHN LOCKWOOD . I am a carpenter, of 34, London Street—the prosecutor is in my employ—on the night in question I was standing at my door a little after 12 o'clock, when I saw him running—in consequence of what he said I ran in the same direction, and came up with the prisoner—I took hold of one arm, and said "Where is the watch?"—he said "I have no watch," and I said "Where is it?"—he said "I have not got it"—the prosecutor took hold of his other arm, and we handed him over to the policeman—his coat was torn off his back.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you take the watch—your coat was not found outside the South London Music Hall.
HORACE HERBERT . I shall be 12 next birthday—I live with my mother at 21, York Street, London Road—on the night in question I was in York Street, when I picked up a watch at the corner of York Street and Southwark Bridge Road; it was in the middle of the road—I took it to my father, and he took it to the police-station.
HENRY BRIERY (Policeman L R 21). I was on duty in the London Road on the night in question, when I saw the prosecutor and another man holding the prisoner—they asked me to take him into custody for assaulting the prosecutor and stealing his watch, and I did so—the watch was brought to me; I have not got it here—the prisoner was not wearing a coat at the time.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "Please settle it have. I have no wish to go for trial."
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder,
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
CAROLINE PEDMAN . I am a widow, of 6, Tabard Street, Borough—I was living with the prisoner as his wife for about 10 months—I left him two days before this occurred to live with a man named Vincent—on the evening of 7th June, about 7.45. I was standing in the Walworth Road looking at a man selling some books, and while doing so I felt what seemed like a blow; it did not seem like a cut—I fell into a young man's arms, and was taken in a cab to the hospital—I had not had any quarrel with the prisoner.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had no quarrel with you before I left you—it was no use coming back to you without having the money to pay the rent—I am in the family-way; more's the pity—you blocked me about last Christmas-time; you were in the habit of doing so when drunk—you used to carry a razor about in your pocket—I did not remain in the hospital; I am an out-patient still.
JOHN LINEGAN . I am a bricklayer, and live at 19, Regent Street, Camberwell—about 7.45 on this night I was walking down the Walworth Road—I saw the prisoner take a razor from his pocket and open it—I followed him about 15 yards, and saw him put his arm round the prosecutrix's neck and cut her throat with the razor in his right hand—he drew it across her throat and ran away—I followed him about a quarter of a mile before I caught him; I had a sharp chase; I asked him where the razor was; he said in his pocket—I took him to the station.
JAMES TAIT (Police Inspector). I was at the station when the prisoner was brought there—Linegan said he had cut a woman's throat—the prisoner said "Yes; she was talking with another man; jealousy caused me to do it; it was done in a fit of temper; she had promised to come back to me"—I found this razor on him.
HERBERT PATON BUTLER . I was house-surgeon at St. Thomas's when the prosecutrix was brought there—she was suffering from an incised wound on the left side of the neck, about four inches long; it was very superficial, a little deeper in the middle than at the edges—it was not at all dangerous; I should say not given with much force—it was such a wound as might be caused by a razor.
Prisoner's Defence. I was excited at the moment, or I should not have done it.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Four Month's Hard Labour.
MR. FOSTER REID Prosecuted; MR. FILLAN DEFENDED.
THOMAS SATCHWELL . I am a glazier, and live at 59, Savonna Street—I was at Rugby on the 7th June (Whit Tuesday)—I returned to Battersea Park Station with my bag of tools about ten minutes past twelve at night—I went into a urinal about twenty minutes past twelve—my bag was attached across my back with a strap—I was holding the strap in my hand—it was about 70lb. weight—when I came out of the urinal the prisoner hit me in the mouth, knocked me down, and then kicked me in the corner of the right eye—I had not done anything to him—I saw one of his companions run down the mews with my bag—I said, "Is it robbery you mean?"—then three or four other men set on me and knocked me about—one put his hand in my left-hand pocket and dragged my purse out—I had got hold of the purse with one hand—he had it in his hand—I pulled my left hand down to my mouth and bit his hand—he let go—the purse dropped on the ground—I put it in my pocket—I lost sight of him—they all cleared away as a party came round the corner—I had about 5l. in the purse—Mr. Tapson and a little girl came up—Mr. Tapson helped me to walk, as I had received a kick in the ribs, and one in the groin—he accompanied me home—I was in bed all day on the Wednesday—I gave information to Tapson—I was sober—I had had one glass of ale at Victoria Station while I was waiting for the train—I am positive the prisoner is the man—I picked him out from three or four other men at the police-station.
Cross-examined. He struck me immediately—I suddenly came up against him—I accused him of assaulting me—his companion robbed me—they were all together—I had only one glass of ale after I left Rugby—I had one at Rugby, about four o'clock, as Mr. Murray gave us a half-sovereign—I said at the police-court, "I may have had a glass or two, or more than two—I was quite confused, as I had never been in a court before, and it was the way the question was put—the tools did not poke out of the bag—it is not true that I knocked up against him and he turned round and asked what I was doing, nor that I knocked him down—I did not see him on the ground—I did not see him go into a door near.
Re-examined. When he Knocked me down the other men came on the scene at once—I saw him as I was lying on the ground—this is my bag.
ELIZABETH WILLIAMS . I live at 17, St. Honor Street—on Tuesday, 7th June, I was going for the beer to the Duchess of York—I saw Mr. Satchwell down, and three men on the top of him—the prisoner was not one—I knew one of the men—the one I knew smacked him in the face—I saw one run down the mews with a bag; the others walked up the street together.
JOHN WILLIAM TAPSON . On the morning of the 8th June, as I was returning home, I saw Mr. Satchwell in the street—I assisted him home—he was quite sober—he could scarcely walk from being kicked—from information he gave me I went to York Mews—I discovered this bag—the prosecutor said it was his.
WALTER VAGG (Detective Sergeant W). From information I received I took the prisoner into custody at his mother's house—he was in bed—I asked him if his name was Horsley; he replied, "No"—he gave me the name of Ellacott—it turned out that his mother had been married twice—his
father asked what he was charged with—the prisoner said, "Oh! I know what it was, I stood at the corner of the 'Duchess' the other night, a fellow came round the corner and pushed against me, I asked him what he was doing, when he hit me in the mouth, I then knocked him down, I said, 'What are you doing?" when he knocked me in the mouth and kicked me—I left him there—what I did I did in self-defence"—I then told him he would be charged with being concerned, with others not in custody, in assaulting Thomas Satchwell and robbing him of a bag of tools and a purse containing 5l.—he said nothing.
Cross-examined. He evidently thought he was charged with assaulting this man; he did not say anything about robbery.
NOT GUILTY .
JAMES WILSON (Policeman W 220). I was with Vagg on the evening we arrested the prisoner; we found him in bed—Vagg asked him if his name was Horseley, he said "No"—Vagg said "You will have to come with us to the police-station"—his father being present in the room said "What for?"—the prisoner sat up in bed and said "I know what it is, I was at the corner of the 'Duchess' the other night with three or four other fellows when a man came round the corner and pushed against me; he hit me in the mouth, I knocked him down and left him lying there"—we told him we should take him into custody for assaulting the prosecutor and stealing his purse and a bag of tools—he made no answer to the charge—when the prosecutor came to the station he appeared very ill, his right eye was very much blackened—he had severe bruises and cuts and walked lame; I had to assist him a portion of the way home.
Cross-examined. The prisoner added the words "What I did I did in self-defence"—I did not hear Vagg's evidence at the police-court—I corroborated his statement—I heard his evidence read.
WALTER VAGG (Re-examined). It was the prisoner's father who asked me what the prisoner was charged with, not the prisoner—I told him he would be charged with several others with robbing Thomas Satchwell and taking his tools—I have been in the force about eight years.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was talking to a few friends, and walked across to the urinal, when the prosecutor came behind me and knocked against me. I asked what he was doing. He said "Who are you?" He turned round and hit me and knocked me down, then I hit him back. Then my friend took me to the corner, and my brother took me indoors.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EMMA CLEAVER . I was talking to the prisoner on this night at the Duchess of York—I saw the prosecutor intoxicated—the prisoner crossed to go into the urinal—a few minutes afterwards I heard a quarrel; I went over and saw the prosecutor push the prisoner and knock him down—both wore intoxicated—the prisoner said "What did you do this for?"—then he struck him again—then the prisoner struck him again and returned the blow—me and my friend, whom I was returning home with, wished the prisoner "Good night." and he went indoors with his brother.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not fall down—my friend was the
prisoner's brother—the prisoner did not kick the prosecutor; he struck him—I am not a prostitute—I never saw the prosecutor on the ground.
SAMUEL EATON . I live at 21, Ceylon Street, Battersea—I am a waiter—on Whit Tuesday night I was with the prisoner; he was intoxicated—he left me to go to the urinal—I heard a bit of a row, I went across, and saw the prosecutor knock the prisoner down just outside the urinal—the prisoner got up and ran after him and knocked him down; he did not kick him—I was looking at him all the time—I took the prisoner up to the top of tie street, and left him with his brother; he lives round the corner.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not strike the prisoner before he went in the urinal—the prosecutor stood there—I am friendly with the prisoner, also with Emma Cleaver.
WILLIAM POTNTZ . I was in the street near the Duchess of York—I saw no fighting—I came a little afterwards—I saw the prosecutor and spoke to him—he was swearing in the street about b—thieves. and said "They have robbed me of my tools and about 20l.—I asked him if he knew who had taken it, and he said "No"—I did not see the prosecutor before the row—I did not know him—he was in the middle of the road—the accused stood there, and any one could have put his hand on him if he wanted—the prosecutor did not call for a policeman—I do not know what became of the prisoner—I went away when I saw the man was intoxicated—I am not aware that my son is in this matter; I do not know that the police have been to arrest him—they have applied to me about him, but I do not know where he is—I told the Magistrate he might be produced—I did not say he was not very far off.
GUILTY of a common assault. — Two Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
ADJOURNED TO TUESDAY, AUGUST 2ND, 1881.