CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
McARTHUR, MAYOR. TENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denote that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—on obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, August 2nd, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. BOURNIE defended Bollon.
CHARLES REITZ . I am a baker, of 183, Mare Street, Hackney—on 26th July, 1879, Waller was a customer of mine; he owed me 1l. 4s. 10 1/2 d. for goods—he brought me this cheque for 3l. 10s. drawn on. the Central Bank by G. Mills, he endorsed it in my presence; he asked me to deduct the amount of my account, and give him the balance; I did so—I paid away the cheque, and it was returned dishonoured.
CHARLES MAYHEW . I am a tailor, of 250, Mare Street, Hackney—on 19th February Bollon called and ordered a suit of clothes to the amount of 3l. 16s. 6d.; he gave me as his address 56, Darnley Road, Hackney, and said he would pay cash on delivery—on 6th March he called on me with this cheque for 6l. 12s. on the Central Bank of London, asked me how much the amount for his clothes was, and asked me to give him the difference, making it up to 4l.; I gave him 3s. 6d., and when the cheque was cleared at the bank I was to give him the balance, 1l. 12s.—he asked me to send the clothes to his address that evening; I did so, and they were sent back, as there was nobody there to receive them—the cheque was endorsed "William Brown," and signed "E. Bollon;" it was afterwards returned, marked "No account"—on the following Tuesday, just after I had received the cheque back, he called in; I asked him what he meant by giving me a fictitious cheque, and who Brown was, and he said "Mr. Brown is a nurseryman at Lower Edmonton," and that he would go and see him, and get the money to pay me; ne said he had received the cheque from Mr. Brown—I saw no more of the
prisoner till 12th April, when I gave him into custody—at the time I gave him the change out of the cheque and when I sent the clothes I believed it was a genuine cheque.
Cross-examined. I had not known him before—I should not lend a customer 3s. 6d. because he ordered 4l. of clothes from me—I should not have advanced him more—I had considerable doubts about the cheque, but I thought it was all right—I won't swear he mentioned the name of Brown first—my shop closes on Saturday nights at 11 or 12, on other nights 9 or 9.30—I am nearly always there; if I am not, my man, George Wilkinson, is—I did not see him again till 12th April; he was going to give me into custody for an assault, he asked a constable to take me into custody.
GEORGE WINGFIELD . I am the manager to Charles Miller, who trades as the North London Railway Coal Company at 87, Amhurst Road, Hackney—I know Bollon—on 11th February he called and gave me an order for a ton of coals to be sent that same day to 56, Darnley Road; he was to pay in a month—the coals were delivered on 23rd March—he called upon me again and brought me this cheque, drawn by James Armstrong for 6l. 15s. 6d., payable to H. Allen, and dated 27th March, to pay for the ton of coal, which came to 1l. 4s.; he said he was in a great hurry, and would I give him 30s., and he would call for the balance in a few days—I asked him if he knew the drawer of the cheque, and he said "Yes, a respectable person"—I gave the cheque to my employer; it went through the bank, and was returned—the prisoner never called again—I wrote to him on the subject, and left the letter myself at the address, with a young person; I got no answer—he had said he had leased the house for seven years.
Cross-examined. I gave the cheque to Mr. Miller; he passed it through his bank, and I never heard anything more about the coals—he did not ask for the full change, only for 30s.—I had no doubt in my own mind but what it might be good—I did not hear the name of Johnson mentioned.
WILLIAM MCKAY . I keep Dick's Coffee-house, 8, Fleet Street—I had known the prisoner Bollon for some months before 8th March, and on that day he brought me this cheque on the Central Bank of London, dated March 30, 1881, payable R. J. James or order, 5l. 5s., purporting to be drawn by James Wilson, and endorsed "Ed. James;" he said he had got it from Johnson, who was a respectable grocer and a good man, and for whom he had been working—I declined to cash it, and he said he had to go out of town, and would I give him a few shillings on it; I gave him 6s., and he said he would call again in a few days for the balance—I gave the cheque to my butcher, and it was returned marked "No account"—Bollon called before I had received the cheque back; he asked me if I had received the money—I saw him again after the cheque had been returned, and I showed him the cheque marked "No account"—he said "I will go to Johnson and get the money and pay you back;" he said he had to meet Mr. Johnson at the Court—I never saw him afterwards; before that time he was frequently at my house—I kept the cheque—I never got my money back.
Cross-examined. When he came in before I had got the cheque back and asked me if I had got the money, it was a day or two after he first came; I had passed it away to Mr. Geary in payment for an account—when
he came to me on the first occasion I declined to cash the cheque because I do not believe in cashing cheques for any one—I should not have lent him the 6s. if it had not been for that cheque—I lent him money before on one occasion—I did not have a cheque on that occasion.
GEORGE BRODIE . I lived at Canada Yard, Bow Lane, until 1878, and am a timber merchant—I formerly banked at the Central Bank, Cornhill—I had a book with a number of unused cheques in my office—I have known Waller for three years—I never authorised him or anybody to draw cheques on forms out of my book; I did not know he had done so until lately—the book was in a box, and I found some cheques missing from it—he was in the habit of coming to my office frequently—I did not know the cheques were missing until my attention was called to it at the police-court—these cheques are out of my book—I never gave them to anybody, or authorised them to use them.
HUGH WILLIAM JAMIESON . I am an accountant at the Central Bank of London, Cornhill, the chief office—this cheque purports to be drawn by G. Wills on July 25, 1879; at that time we had no customer under that name, nor any customer of the name of Rogers or Armstrong or James Wilson—all these cheques seem to have come out of Mr. Brodie's book—his account was closed in 1878.
EDMUND WOOD . I used to keep the Woodberry Hotel, Seven Sisters Road, Holloway—on March last Bollon called at my house; I had known him before—he tendered me this cheque for 5l. 5s., dated March 19,1881, on the London and Westminster Bank, signed James Armstrong, and asked me to change it for him—I said I had changed so many in the neighbourhood that I did not mean to change any more—he came again and asked me to lend him two sovereigns upon it—I asked him who the drawer was; he said, "A publican who keeps a large house in the Borough," and on the faith of that I told my man to advance him 2l. on it, and he said he would call on Tuesday night or Wednesday morning for the balance—at my request he wrote his own name at the back of the cheque and the name of the publican—I passed the cheque to Messrs. Wetherall and Green, in Chancery Lane, and received it back marked "No account"—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined. I gave him the two sovereigns believing that he had got the cheque from a publican, a friend of his—I would not have given them to him if the client had been a florist—I did not know the publican.
ALFRED SAVAGE . I am a cashier at the London and Westminster Bank, Borough branch—in the month of March no person of the name of James Armstrong banked there—a book of forms was issued on 10th April, 1875, to a potato salesman, Wheeler, and his account was closed in 1877—I have seen the cheque produced, it is not in Wheeler's handwriting.
JOHN BAMBOROUGH . I am a grocer, living at 47, Greenwood Road, Dalflton—in March last Bollon called upon me, I had known him before—he gave me this cheque (produced), dated 4th February, 1881, for 12l. 3s. on the London and Provincial Bank, Newington, drawn by H. Cartwright in favour of J. R. Johnson, and endorsed by J. R. Johnson and E. Bollon—he asked me for the change—I said, "I have not got it"—he left it with me, told me to pass it through my bank, and he would call again, and then he asked me to let him have a guinea upon it—I asked him
who the drawer was—he said a client of his, a nurseryman and florist, named Cartwright—he owed me 1l. 5s. 11 1/2 d. at that time—I called at the bank that evening and showed them the cheque, and they marked it "No account"—the same evening Bollon called upon me; I said I had been to the bank and the cheque was not genuine—he said, "I will go to see Mr. Cartwright at once"—I did not see him again—some time afterwards I received this letter from him. (Read: "House of Detention, 14th April. Dear Sir,—Will you kindly let me have the number of the private house next to the builder's in the Queen's Road, near you; it is opposite the Middleton Arms, kept by a man named Johnson. By doing this you will greatly assist me in bringing Johnson and Cartwright under my finger, and assist you in getting the money.") I don't know which house he referred to.
Cross-examined. I knew him before as a customer—I can't be sure if it was Cartwright or Johnson he said he would call upon, or which one he said was a florist—when he called the same evening he asked me if I had the money for the cheque.
WILLIAM HUNT (Policeman N 156). Bollon was given into my custody on 4th April by Mr. Mayhew—the prisoner wished to charge Mr. Mayhew with assault—I searched him and found on him a letter from Wingfield, dated 31st March—I put it on the table, and the prisoner snatched it from the table with the intention of putting it on the fire; the table was near the fire, and it tumbled into the fender; I picked it up—he gave 56, Darnley Road, as his address when he was charged.
WILLIAM HENRY WOLVERTON . I am a cashier in the London and Provincial Bank, Stoke Newington—during this year no person named H. Cartwright has had an account at our bank—I believe this cheque was from a book issued to a customer named Hunt in 1876, whose account has been closed two years.
ROBERT MACKENZIE (Police Sergeant N). On 26th April Bollon made a statement to me at the Police-court, Worship Street—I made a memorandum of what he said—he said the cheque that he gave to Mr. M'Key he got from a man named Johnson, who lived at Edmonton—I said, "Where did you get the cheques you gave to Mr. Wood and Mr. Bamborough?"—he said, "I got them all from Johnson"—Bollon said that the leader of the cheque business was a man of the name of Waller, who was known by the names of Foster and Rogers—I have seen this letter written to Mr. Bamborough, it describes Waller's house—Bollon described Johnson to me—he was arrested on the 28th; Waller on the 30th.
Cross-examined. Johnson made a verbnl statement to me when he was taken into custody.
THOMAS GLASS (Police Inspector). I know Bollon's and Waller's writing; I have seen Johnson write—the cheque dated 25th July, 1879, is in Waller's writing—this cheque of Mr. Mayhew's for 5l. 12s., of 4th March, 1881, is written by Waller and endorsed by Bollon—I do not know the writing of "Brown" on it—the body of the cheque of 19th March (Mr. Wood's) is Johnson's writing, the endorsement is Bollon's—this one on 22nd March, 6l. 15s. 6d., J. Armstrong, is in Johnson's writing, the endorsement I don't know—the cheque of 23rd March, 5l. 15s. 6d., is Johnson's writing, that for 12l. 8s. on 4th February is in Waller's handwriting, endorsed by Johnson and Waller—Bollon
sent for me to the House of Detention before the other men were in custody, and stated where he got the cheques from—he made one statement to me on 21st April and another on 26th April—I went to him at his urgent request—they are as I took them down. (The substance of these statements was that he had received like cheques from Johnson.) This I O U for 18l. 2s. 6d. was handed to the solicitor for the prosecution at the police-court on Bollon's behalf—I searched Johnson's house and found a bill for 24l. 16s. 4d., drawn and endorsed by Ballon, accepted by Wilson.
Cross-examined. I believe these two papers (produced) to be Johnson's writing.
BOLLON— GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court in October, 1867.— Eighteen Months Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, August 2nd, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
CALEB CULLEN . I keep the Lamb and Flap, Rose Street, Covent Garden—on 19th July, about 6 o'clock, the prisoner and Johnson (see next case) came in for a pint of ale; they both partook of it, and Johnson gave me a shilling, I gave him the change, and they left—I then found that the shilling was bad, and spoke to Ward, who went out for a constable, and I went into the street, but could not see the prisoners—on the same evening Johnson and Fredericks came in, had some refreshment, and Fredericks put down a bad half-crown—Ward went for a constable, and I went round, closed the door, and shut them both is, and when the constable came I went out and found Nugent lighting a pipe at my window—I told him his mates wanted him inside—he said "What do they want to see me for; I shan't come in"—I took him by the shoulders and brought him in—they then said that they would defy all the policemen in Bow Street to lock them up—I gave them in custody with the coins.
JOHN WAND . On 9th July I was in the Lamb and Flag public-house, and saw Johnson and Fredericks there—I went for a constable, and when I came back they had gone—I saw them there again that evening, and Nugent was outside—the landlord secured hire and got him in—three policemen came, and the prisoners were given in custody.
WILLIAM HALLETT (Policeman C 132). I was called to the Lamb and Flag with two other constables, and the prisoners were all taken to there station—Mr. Cullen gave me this half-crown and shilling—I found on Johnson a shilling's worth of coppers, but no bad money.
WILLIAM THORNE (Policeman E 403). I took Fredericks and asked him how he came by the half-crown; he said that he changed a half-sovereign in Bays water Road—I found on him two florins, four shillings, and a Belgian farthing.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about it, the publican did not charge me with anything.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of a like offence in November, 1871, to which he
676. WILLIAM NUGENT was again indicted, with JAMES JOHNSON (40) and ADAM FREDERICKS (43) , for unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin. This being the same transaction, the witnesses repeated their former evidence.
Johnson produced a written defence stating that he could not account for having the bad shilling.
Frederick's Defence. I took the half-crown in change for a halfsovereign; I had the rest of the change in my pocket.
GUILTY . JOHNSON and FREDERICKS— Two Years' Hard Labour each. NUGENT— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
GEORGE MATTHEWS . I am assistant to Mr. Barrett, a brush maker, of 63, Piccadilly—on Friday, 17th June, the prisoner came in and asked for the cheapest nail brush I had—I offered him one at sixpence—he gave me a florin—I told him it was bad—he said that he was not aware of it; he took it of a man named King for a bet on Bend Or beating Robert the Devil—I took back the brush and gave him the coin—I was taken to Marlborough Street ten days afterwards, and picked him out from a lot of men and women.
JOHN DONNISON . I am assistant to Mr. Trullier, a draper, of Coventry Street—on 29th June, about 9.30, the prisoner came in for two collars, which came to eightpence—he gave me a bad half-crown—Mr. Trullier went for a policeman, but could not find one—the prisoner left the shop, I followed him to Rupert Street, and gave him in charge with the half-crown.
Cross-examined. You said that you got it from a shipping office, not from the skipper of a ship—you said that you would get another for it.
ARTHUR TROTT (Policeman C 131). I was on duty in Rupert Street, and Donnison pointed out the prisoner to me—he saw me and moved away very fast—I followed him, caught him, and charged him—he said, "I know nothing about it;" Donovan gave me this half-crown—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found a good florin on him—he said, "If I had put down that I should not have been here now."
EMILY WILLEY . I serve in a cook's shop, 45, Old Compton Street—on 26th April I served the prisoner with a cup of coffee and a slice of bread-and-butter—he gave me a florin—I bit it, and left the mark of my teeth in it—I gave it to Mr. Plummer, the manager—the prisoner was
given in custody, remanded from Tuesday to Thursday, and then discharged.
EDWARD PLUMMER . I manage this coffee-shop—Willey gave me a bad florin, and I asked the prisoner if he had any more; he said no—I gave it to the constable, and gave him in charge—he was remanded for a week and discharged.
Cross-examined. You said that you had been paid off from your ship, and did not know where you got the change.
JOSEPH JONES (Policeman C 107). I took the prisoner and received this bad florin—I asked him where he got it; he said he did not know—I found 1 1/2 d. on him, just the money required for the refreshment.
Prisoner's Defence. I was paid off, and received two 5l. notes and 2s. 7d.; one of the notes was stolen from my pocket in a barber's shop while I was having a wash. I got this half-crown for carrying some things to the docks. I got the florin from a person named King, and it was proved on further trial to be good.
GUILTY . He was stated to be under ticket of leave on a sentence of ten years' penal servitude in India.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour on the Second Count , and Twelve Months' Hard Labouron the Third, consecutive.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
LOUISE GODWIN . I assist in a baker's shop, 62, Regent Street, kept by Madame Petrywalski—on 5th June, about 12.45, I served the prisoner with two penny rolls—he gave me a bad half-crown—I showed it to Madame, who marked it with her teeth, sent for a constable, and it was given to him—the prisoner said that a traveller gave it to him for carrying a portmanteau—he produced a shilling, which Madame gave back to him.
SALOMI PETRYWALSKI . I keep a confectioner's shop at 62, Regent Street—I received this half-crown on 27th June, and found it was bad—I gave it to the policeman, and gave the prisoner into custody, saying "I believe you have been here before"—I forget what answer he made.
JOSEPH ELLIS . I am foreman to Madame Petrywalski—she gave the prisoner in charge—he said that he did not know the half-crown was bad; a gentleman gave it to him for carrying a portmanteau from Charing Cross to Park Lane—he produced a shilling—I told him to put it in his pocket, and when he got to the station I tested it, and found it was bad.
Prisoner's Defence. I received 3s. 6d. from a gentleman for carrying a portmanteau. I offered it at the baker's shop, and they said it was bad. I then offered the shilling, which I should not have done had I known it was bad.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted; MR. HICKS Defended. WOODFORD DUDLEY. On 19th July I was at the ticket office at the Alexandra Palace, and at a little past 5 o'clock Harris came for a glass of ale, and I gave him a 2d. ticket—he gave me a florin—I gave him 1s. 10d. change, and he left—he afterwards brought another florin, and had another glass of ale—I said "These two florins are bad"—I had given him change for the second also—he went away about 100 yards, but I did not lose sight of him—he then gave me two more florins, one good and one bad—Hickey was with him in the grounds—I saw them both running down the hill—I was with the sergeant when they were taken in custody.
Cross-examined. This was a race day—I kept the first florin in my hand, and he came for a second ticket two minutes afterwards—a policeman stopped Hickey.
JOHN BABINGTON (Police Inspector). On 19th July, about 6.15, I was in the Alexandra Palace grounds off duty, and saw the prisoners running from the south entrance down the steps into a walk, and Hickey threw something into a clump of trees, which I found was a veil containing six half-crowns and two florins, counterfeit, wrapped in separate papers—I handed them to the sergeant who caught the prisoners.
Cross-examined. They met me, and Hickey was about seven yards from me when he threw the parcel—nothing is known against either of them.
RICHARD WILLIAM BANKS . I am manager at the Alexandra Palace. I saw the prisoners in the hands of the police, and as they went up the steps Hickey dropped a florin—I picked it up and gave it to Moore.
THOMAS MOORE (Police Sergeant 39 Y). Dudley pointed out the prisoners to me running down the park—I pursued them, and just as they passed a clump of trees I saw a parcel thrown, but cannot say by which of them—I pursued them half a mile, and Hancock stopped them—I took them into the refreshment booth, and Harris dropped a florin, which Banks handed to me—Babington gave me these six half-crowns and two florins, and Dudley this florin—I found on Hickey 6s. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 8d. in bronze, good money.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour each.
MESSRS. LLOYD and A. METCALFE Prosecuted.
CHARLES BARKER . I live at 9, Beaumont Street, and in April I was assistant to Mr. Harris, a stationer of Oxford Street—on 25th April I served the prisoner with some paper and envelopes, which came to 4d.—he gave me a half-crown, which the manager found to be bad, and he was given into custody, taken to Marlborough Street, and discharged.
FREDERICK CHAPPLE . I am manager to Mr. Harris, stationer, of 57, Oxford Street—Barker showed me a half-crown—I weighed it, found it light, and asked him where he got it; he said, "From a public-house on Ludgate Hill"—I gave him in custody.
THOMAS MCGWYRE (Policeman 75 E). On 25th April Mr. Chappie gave the prisoner into my custody, with this half-crown (produced)—I found on him a good sixpence, and a threepenny piece and two halfpence—he said that he got the half-crown at a public-house on the Saturday night previous.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The young man told me that he gave you the halfpence and the silver in change fur a shilling.
JAMES DARMSTATTER . I keep the Vienna Restaurant, Strand—on 24th June the prisoner gave me a bad florin for a glass of beer—I asked him where he got it; he said, "From a gentleman, for carrying luggage"—I gave him in custody, with the coin.
Cross-examined. You paid for the beer with twopence and two halfpence—there was a large halfpenny.
ROBERT WARE (Policeman 10 E. R.) On 24th June the prisoner was given into my custody, with this florin—he said that he got it from a gentleman for carrying his luggage from King's Cross to Charing Cross Station.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he got the florin for carrying a portmanteau, and the half-crown in change far a sovereign; that the Magistrate let him out on his own recognisances, and if he had been guilty he would not have appeared.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in September, 1880, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. LLOYD and A. METCALFX Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH WELCH . My husband keeps the Railroad Inn, Potter's Bar—on 7th July the prisoner came in for a pot of beer, and gave me a florin; it "jinked" very well—my husband looked at it, and believing it to be good we gave the prisoner the change—he went out without finishing the beer, and my husband went after him, caught him, brought him back, and said, "Did you know it was bad?" he said "No"—this is the florin.
THOMAS WELCH . I saw my wife serve the prisoner—she showed me the coin, and I found it was bad—the prisoner went out, and I went after him—he got 100 yards from the house—I called him: he came back and met me—I said, "Do you know what you gave my wife?" he said, "Yes, a two-shilling bit"—I said, "You had better go back to her;" he said, "No"—I said, "I shall send for the police;" he said, "Send for the police if you like, and give me three months; it will not "be the first time in my life"—he came back and as good as knocked me over, but I held up my stick and said, "You dare to touch me," and gave him in charge, with the coin.
THOMAS REEVES . I keep the Bridge House, Potter's Bar—on 17th July, at 7.30, I served the prisoner with some beer; he gave me this florin—it did not look right, but I put it in the till, where there was no other, and gave him 1s. 8d. change—I afterwards found it was bad, went to the station, and picked the prisoner out.
WILLIAM PARISH (Policeman 239 Y). On 17th July, a little before 9 p.m., I saw Mr. Welsh detaining the prisoner—he said, "This man has just passed a two-shilling piece to my wife"—I said to the prisoner,
"Have you any more money about you?" he said, "I shan't tell you"—I took him to the station, searched him, and found three shillings, four sixpences, eleven pence, and two halfpence—when he was charged he said, "You will give me as much as you can, and I intend to get off as light as I can."
Prisoner's Defence. "I got the money from some person who gave me change."
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour.
ARTHUR SHERISS . I am manager to Mr. Crisp, of the Brewer's Arms, St. Pancras—on 25th July, about 2.30 p m., I served the prisoner with half a pint of beer—he gave me a half-crown—I gave him four sixpences and 4 1/2 d. change, and put it in the till, where there was no other half-crown—he left half of the beer and went out—I then went to the till, and found the half-crown was bad—I went out, and found the prisoner at Mr. Chitty's shop, sixty yards off—Mr. Chitty showed me another bad half-crown, and I sent for a constable.
JAMES CHITTY . I am a grocer, of St. Pancras Road—on 25th July, about 2.30, the prisoner came in for a pennyworth of cheese and a half-pennyworth of bread—he put down a half-crown—Mr. Sheriss came in and accused the prisoner of giving him a bad half-crown—I then tested the one he gave me, and found it bad—the prisoner said that he received the coins that morning for work done—I gave them to the policeman.
WILLIAM TODD (Policeman 300 Y). I was called to Mr. Chitty's, and the prisoner was given into my charge—he said, "I had the two half-crowns given me for unloading some corn"—I found on him a good sixpence and a halfpenny.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour.
683. CHARLES GEAY (34) PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for stealing jackets, the goods of Albert Stern and another, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell in Sept., 1870; also to feloniously marrying Eleanor Jane Gray, his wife being alive.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, August 3rd and 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Grove.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MESSRS. RIBTON and ROBINSON Defended.
DR. THOMAS BRAMAH DIPLOCK . I am coroder for the Western Division of Middlesex—on 17th May I held an inquest as to the death of Ann Susannah Bond, Eliza, Jane Clark, John David Bond, Philip Clark, Harry Church, and Louisa Church—on the second hearing on 25th May the prisoner William Nash was examined before me—I cautioned him before he was sworn—I took down the effect of his answers, and at the conclusion of the inquest read over his deposition to him, and he signed it—this
is it—on the same day the prisoner Wright was also examined, under the name of Anne Maria Nash—at that time it was not known she was not married—she was not cautioned; I have her deposition also—on the next hearing, on 30th May, she was recalled, and further questions put to her, and then her entire deposition was read over to her, and she signed it.
Cross-examined. Both the prisoners attended on the first occasion—I can't say whether they did so voluntarily; there was a roomful of people—I can't say whether they attended on the second occasion of their own accord—the woman was examined before Nash on the second occasion—I cautioned the witnesses in the usual way, and put down their own words as far as possible—I do not know whether either of them had any legal adviser.
The depositions were read as follows:—William Nash. "I live at 48, Golborne Boad, Kensington; I did live on the 15th May at 422, Portobello Board. I am a dairyman. I was out on Sunday evening, the night of the fire, my wife with me. We came in at a little after 11 o'clock, not as late as half-past; we were both in bed by half-past 11. I did not hear anybody go out after that. I went to sleep; my wife woke me; she pulled me, and said 'For God's sake, what's this?' The room was full of smoke and illuminated up. We got out of bed, and my wife ran up the stairs. I believe I got out of bed, and took what clothes were on the chair and my wife's dress off the bedstead. I pulled my trousers and drawers on in the passage, and I believe I gave my wife her dress somewhere, she says in the passage. I went for the escape after that. I do not know where the fire was; I did not go to see where the fire was; I saw no flames. I do not believe the fire was in the bedroom. I took my clothes and went out. I went out by the door in the Warrington Board. I do not know if the fire was in the shop; I did not go to see, I had no time. I took nothing but my clothes and my wife's dress. I went for the fire-escape, and somebody had been there, and it was pulling off the path in Ladbroke Grove Road. I went round by Sutton's, the pawnbroker's. I believe the Portobello Board door was that which I left at. I do not know if my wife had gone out there or not; I think I left her there, she had only a dress. Mr. Keen was standing on the stairs when I came out of the parlour. I did not hear my wife at the top of the house; I could not say if I heard her knocking at the doors at the top of the house, and I did not see Mrs. Keen until I came back with the escape. Mr. Keen broke open the door leading to the shop; he was on the stairs in his trousers. In that time I had got my clothes off the chair, that's all. There were no combustibles in the shop. The passage was boarded off from the shop up to about 8 feet high, and open above that. The illumination came from the Portobello side. The stock-in-trade and everything was insured for 120l. There is no fireplace in the shop, it is all bricked up. The latest time I saw a fire in the parlour was between 3 and 4 in the afternoon—the latest time I was in the shop on Sunday was at about half-past four. I did not look into the shop when my wife awoke me. The glass was cracking in the door, and the smoke pouring through. My wife did not have her boots in her hand when she went up stairs. Keen was on the stairs. I did not say 'Save yourselves, or you will all be burnt'. He did not say 'You have on the same clothes that you wore
yesterday.' I put on my boots in the passage. I left the house in a low-crowned hat. I had on the same shirt I have on now, not a night shirt. I had my waistcoat and a "brown Cardigan jacket under my arm as I went for the escape, and I put them on as I came back with it. I had not those things on when I left the house. I did not wear an overcoat on Sunday at all. I have no idea what caused the fire in the front shop. I did not take any furniture to Portobello Road from Golborne Road. The articles I had in Portobello Road were a table and an iron bedstead, a mattress or flock bed; I had them from Keen for a cow and calf and some cash. I have not had all the money yet, there is some 7s. owing; he has paid me, I think, 1l. 4s. I value the lot of bed and mattress and table at about 2l. I think I sold the lot I bought of Collins. I had five chairs, three cane-bottomed and a horsehair arm-chair. I brought part from Golborne Road where all was not sold. I had one or two ornaments and some photographs and a fender worth some 4l. or 5l. then; I had my clothes and my wife's clothes. I do not know in what amount the furniture was insured. The policy we have not got; it was burnt, I suppose; it was in the house. I had not paid any rent for six weeks, and I had borrowed 2l. from a loan office about five weeks ago. The landlord asked me to sell some furniture for him, and I bought some myself for about 1l. 1s., of which I sold a music-stool for 2s. I had in the shop also scales, show tubs, milkperambulator, and other things, which I value at 16l. or 17l.; there was one pair of scales also that was not mine. There was a door from the passage into the shop; no one could get into the shop except through the parlour door if that into the passage was fastened, unless they got over the partition. I have made a claim on the Yorkshire Fire Insurance Company for 79l. My wife did not say anything when she came down stairs, except that the doors were locked; I do not know if they were in the upstairs rooms. My wife said Mrs. Bond spoke to her. I do not think I told the escape man that there were people in the house. (Signed) William Nash."
"Ann Maria Nash. I live at 48, Golborne Road, Kensington; I did live on 15th May at 422, Portobello Road. I am wife of William Nash, he is a dairyman. We were both at home all day on the 15th, except when my husband went out with his milk. We went out in the evening at 6 or 7 o'clock for a walk round the houses about there. We came in at 11 or a few minutes after; we went straight to bed then; my husband went to bed at the same time, he did not go into the shop before he went to bed. I went to sleep; I was awoke by a suffocating feeling. My husband was not awake then, I awoke him; I did not hear the fire at that time, but the room seemed full of smoke and light. I got out of bed, as did my husband; I do not know what he did, for I went up stairs to wake them at the top of the house and the Keens. I did so; I awoke the Keens first, I did not see them come out of their room. I went up to the top of the house, and I knocked at the door until I was answered by Mrs. Bond; neither of the others spoke to me—not Clark nor Church. The suffocating feeling was not at the top of the house when I went up, it was when I turned to come down stairs. Neither of them on the top floor came out to me. Mrs. Bond said 'What is the matter, Mrs. Nash?' I said 'The house is on fire; 'I never heard her answer me. I believe the Keen' door was open as I was going down;
I did not hear or see anything of Mr. or Mrs. Keen as I was going downstairs. When I went down I found my husband in the passage near the door leading to Portobello Road. I did not see Mr. Keen then; the first time I saw him was at the fire-escape. There is a glass door between the shop and the parlour. The light seemed everywhere when I woke. I do not know where the fire was, in the front of the house I suppose; I could not say if it was inside or outside the house, it was all illuminated everywhere. When I found my husband by the door leading to Portobeilo Road he gave me my dress, and he seemed to be arranging his own dress. I went out, and I knocked at next door. I have no recollection whether my husband came out with me or before me. By the time I came out the fire had got much ahead; I do not know if it was in the shop then, it seemed everywhere. I then turned and met the escape, and said there were people up stairs. The engine did not come for some time. There was a fireplace in the front kitchen in the basement, but it was never used. I went out at the hall door; that door was not shut. I had my nightdress on when I went up to call them, and when I came out of the house I had only my dress and nightdress on. The landlord retains the front kitchen as a lumber room, and that is kept locked. I cannot say if the front room was on fire in more places than one, it seemed all illuminated. I did not take my boots up in my hand, nor give them to Keen. My husband was undressed in bed, except his night-dress; if he said he had slept in his boots and clothes it would not be true. After the fire he went to his cousin, who lent him a coat; he did not take away an overcoat from the fire; I cannot say if he was wearing a hat when I saw him with the fire-escape. Before the fire he had a brown cardigan jacket, and he has that now. He always made a practice of putting all his clothes together on a chair, but not his greatcoat. I cannot recollect whether he had on the cardigan jacket when I saw him with the fire-escape; he had nothing round his neck, no scarf or tie. He had insured the property directly he went there; I believe the furniture in the parlour was insured for 50l., it was worth more than that. I cannot say what was the value of the property in the shop; some of it was furniture, some of it belonged to Darvill; there were two beds, two tables, a washstand, and a lamp, worth, perhaps, 5l. (Signed) A. Wright or Nash." Re-examined. "I lived at Brixton, I think, before Portobello. Road—no, Branstone Street. I have been married five years. I was staying in Grolborne Road before Branstone Road. I do not know where I was married. I am not married to Nash. My maiden name was Wright. (Signed) A. Wright or Nash."
JOHN BALDWIN DAEVILL . I am the owner of 422, Portobello Road—on 16th of May last the second floor, which is the top floor, was occupied by Mrs. Bond as my tenant—Mrs. Clark lived with her; John David Bond, Mrs. Bond's son, a boy Philip Clark, Mrs. Clark's son, and a little girl, Louisa Church; Harry Church, the father of Louisa, used also to sleep there on Saturday and Sunday—there were two rooms on the first floor occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Keen and their child, and there is a shop at the back occupied also by Keen, which fronts into the Warrington Road—you can get on to the flat zinc roof of that shop from a staircase window at the back—Keen also occupied the back kitchen in the basement—you get into the back shop from the house through a passage on
the ground-floor—there is a shop and a back parlour opening into the Portobello Road by a door in the middle of the shop, and over that door is a fanlight; it is a double-fronted shop—there is a private door at the side of the house, which opens into a passage—there is a thin partition, which does not reach to the ceiling, dividing the passage from the shop—there is a door, the upper part of which is glass, communicating between the shop and the parlour at the back, and another door at the back of the parlour, communicating with the passage, and there is glass also at the upper part of that; a person looking through that door can see into the parlour and shop—the prisoners occupied the front parlour and shop at a rent of 7s. per week unfurnished—I retained the front kitchen myself as a store-room for furniture; I kept it locked; I did not live on the premises—the prisoners came into occupation on 15th February—they had no kitchen—there were fixtures in the shop, which belonged to me, counters, scales, &c.; I left them there with the conagreed sideration that if he succeeded he would purchase them; no value was upon; their value was about 10l.—he opened the shop as a greengrocer's—he did not pay his rent, there were seven weeks owing when the fire occurred; I had pressed him for that often, I had been in two or three times a day sometimes—I wanted the shop—he owed me 1l. 19s. for gas up to March; 4l. had been consumed altogether, and he was responsible for 1l. 19s.; up to the date of the fire his portion would come to about 25s.—I had asked him several times about the gas bill due to March—he failed as a greengrocer, and abandoned that trade, but the shop was not entirely unused, he kept a few things there—I asked him a few days before the fire to give up the shop and occupy the parlour, I had a quantity of furniture which I wanted to expose for sale, and he offered me half the shop for my purpose, and said his wife would superintend it for me—at the time I put my furniture there I don't think there was anything in the front shop belonging to the prisoner—he afterwards purchased some furniture and placed it in the shop with mine for the purpose of selling; it was placed there after I had arranged for half the shop—I saw some furniture there which did not belong to me, and he told me he had purchased a portion of some furniture that had been left in a room for 21s—I recollect the fire; after it I went to the infirmary at Kensington Workhouse, where I saw two dead bodies amongst others, there were six altogether; one corresponded in size and sex with the appearance of Harry Church, and the other with that of Louisa Church.
Cross-examined. Nash was first a greengrocer, and after trying that for some time he was unsuccessful, and became a furniture dealer, but he did not give it up altogether, so there was a little greengrocery there at the end of the time—there are not gas pipes in every room of the house; there were two burners in the shop and two in the parlour—the meter was kept in the back kitchen downstairs in the basement—there was no gas on the first floor; there was no gas on the second floor—there were two gas-burners in the back shop—the gas bills are sent to me as the landlord; I called upon Nash for his share—the whole house tumbled in, it was gutted by the fire—I have since had men there clearing away and rebuilding; among them there has been a German named Flamme about the premises 14 or 15 days; he has made no statement to me about the state of the chimney; last evening I heard something about
the chimney from the next house being out of repair since the fire—there were 17 inches of bricks placed by me in the fireplace before the fire; they are there now, except a portion at the top which has been removed, and since then smoke has come down from one chimney to the other when the wind is in a certain quarter—smoke, or sparks could not get into the shop from the neighbouring house, the 17 inches of brickwork would prevent that—I heard yesterday afternoon from Flamme that there was a sort of aperture, by means of which smoke might come from one house to the other—there were 11 men there last week, yesterday there were only two—I did not make inquiries of the men some time ago—these were new houses, three years old—since the fire the gas pipes have been recovered and examined; I have seen nothing of a fracture myself; they are being relaid; they tumbled down when the woodwork was burnt away; the lead pipes were melted away, and the meter was destroyed—I have had no experience of gas igniting; I know if gas escapes it will ignite, and it will escape wherever there is the least opening for it—the Salvation Army burnt the gas there six months previously—I have no recollection of any case where gas has taken fire except by lighting; I do not think the slightest spark coming from the fire would ignite the gas—an explosion would accompany the ignition, and it would spread quickly if there was much gas about—I cannot account for this new house being so quickly burnt; I can attribute it to other causes than the escape of gas—I had not been down to the bottom of the house for a week or ten days before this; I know pretty well the state it was in; I found it after the fire in the same as it was before.
Re-examined. Seven or eight day's before I had been in the kitchen under the shop, that was all safe, and it was undisturbed after the fire—I had glass doors in. there, and have got them out since, unbroken—there was no fire kindled there—the gas-meter was in the scullery of the basement in Warrington Road; it was left for use, turned full on—there was an understanding with the people in the house to use the gas—before the prisoner came to occupy the shop it had been let to a previous tenant up to three weeks or a month before—I was in the shop with the carpenter fitting it up before the prisoner came in; it had been a public room for two years—there was a fireplace in the wall adjoining the next house quite bricked up, full of bricks right up, 17 inches in thickness—it is not possible, in my judgment, that any spark could have come from the adjoining house during the time the prisoner was there, from 15th February to 5th May, the prisoner never complained that anything was wrong with the shop—since the rebuilding I did myself observe once a small smouldering smoke come down the chimney, after I had taken out two rows of those bricks placed in the fireplace; that was when a draught was made, before that no smoke could have come through—it came from the other house—when it was bricked up there was no aperture for the smoke to come through—my own house had then no fire in it, and it would be colder than the other house—there was no grate, but where the grate ought to have been was bricked up—there was not a space left at the top; there might be room enough to get a thin knife up—the house adjoining is a beerhouse with an "off" licence.
FREDERICK WOOD . I live at Clifton House, Lancefield Street, Chelsea, and am a painter—on Suhday, 15th May, about 9.30, I went to 422, Portobello Road with Harry Church, a friend of mine—we went upstairs to
the top of the house where Mrs. Bond and her son lived, and Mrs. Clark her sister, Philip Clark, and Louisa Church—we stayed there chatting—the children had gone to bed, the other persons were up—we left about 11.30, leaving those six persons there—I said good-night to them, and came downstairs alone—I went through the passage and out of the private door into the Portobello Road—I shut the door after me—I believe it closed with a latch—I did not smell any gas, nor did anything attract my attention—I saw no light in the shop or back parlour or anywhere—I went home—I heard of the fire next day.
Cross-examined. I was not there above an hour or an hour and a half—I had no supper there—we had a little beer, that was all.
JOHN TREASURER . I am a tailor, and live at 3, Whetstone Road, Portobello Road, about two or three minutes' walk from 422—a few minutes before I on the Monday morning, the 16th, I was aroused by the alarm of fire—I was in bed and asleep—I got up at once and went to 422—it was then alight from the shop right through to the roof, in one blaze—my daughter, Elizabeth Jane Clark, lived there—my other daughter, Mrs. Bond, rented the floor, and the Clarke lived with her—about 9 that same morning I went to the Kensington workhouse, and there saw six charred bodies—I recognised one of them as the body of my daughter, Elizabeth Jane Clark, and the other bodies corresponded in size and age with the other persons.
Cross-examined. I did not go for the fire escape—I did nothing—I went home, and returned again and saw the six bodies lying on the pavement—when I got there the place was one sheet of flame.
JAMES KEEN . I am a milkman—on 16th May I lived at 422, Portobello Road—I occupied the whole of the first floor, the shop at the back, and the back kitchen—on the Sunday evening preceding the fire I saw Nash, about 6.30, in his own shop; he appeared to be pulling and shifting the things about from one part of the shop to the other—I and my wife went to bed at half-past 9—I was aroused about a quarter to 10 by Mrs. Bond to serve a person with milk—I then slept till something past 12—I was then aroused by Mrs. Nash (Wright) knocking loudly at the door, and saying, "Jim! Jim! get up, the place is in flames"—I and my wife and child got up and escaped on to the landing through the staircase door—we did not wait to dress—they were assisted down into the street—I went back and down the staircase into my shop—I made an attempt to go back into my room on the first floor, but could not succeed because of the smoke and flames coming through the door into my bedroom—after Wright had aroused me I heard her upstairs knocking at the door on the top floor, and calling to them to get up; that was before we got out on the leads—Wright passed me on the staircase as I went down—I said to her "Have you roused the people at the top of the house?" she said "Yes, and they will be down in a minute"—she had on her dress, no bonnet—her dress was not fastened in front, and I could see a white substance under it—she was barefooted, and she handed me a pair of boots as she passed—she made no remark—I saw her leave the house; she went through the passage and closed the door after her leading into Portobello Road—at that time I had looked at the front shop—as Wright passed me I glanced my eyes into the shop through the half glass door in the passage and saw two flames, one in the right hand corner, and one on the left—the right hand corner was at the farther end
of the shop, close to the parlour, the other was dose to the Portobello door, the passage door—I saw Nash at that time; he was in the passage at the bottom of the staircase—he had on a cardigan jacket, a hat, boots, and trousers, and the appearance of a scarf round his meek—I said to him "You know something of this;" he said "You must look to yourself"—he then assisted me to burst open the door leading into my shop, and I escaped with him through the shop into Warrington Street—I went that way for the purpose of saying what I could from my shop, and I took some utensils with me—I could not find the keys—I took the boots that Wright gave me to an empty house in Warrington Gardens—I did not go for the fire escape—I saw Nash about an hour after; he came to me and asked me for the boots—I said "They are in a house in Warrington Gardens"—I went with him and he got them—he went with them to a shop kept by Joseph Fry—I saw Nash again between 5 and 6 in Portobello Road opposite the fire; he was then wearing an overcoat—I had seen him with a coat on similar to that on the Sunday morning—I said to him "You have got the overcoat?" he said "Yes, I have saved that"—I said "You have got the same boots and all on that you had on yesterday morning when I saw you about half-past 6;" he said "Yes, I did not pull them off; I had been to bed, but I was not undressed"—I did not notice any smell of gas on that Sunday evening or afternoon—I moved into this shop in November—previous to my coming there I had some furniture where I formerly lived, and in exchange for a plaster cow and calf, gilt, I lent him a table and three chairs—I did not sell them—I allowed him 8s. for a bed and mattress and 9s. in money, and I still owe him 3s.—I have been in his parlour since 15th February, and I saw the bedstead and a deal box—I did not notice any other furniture—there were two large boxes, packing cases, and some dummy boxes; they were worth 15s. or a 1l.—I lent him a pair of scales—there was no fender in the parlour—I recollect an insurance agent coming in March; Nash brought him in from his shop to mine—the agent said "Mr. Nash has just insured his furniture against fire; if you will insure I can bring the policy for both at one time and save trouble"—I declined to insure—Nash said "Yes, I have insured, and shall have the policy in a week"—some week or two afterwards he told me he had got the policy—he mentioned again about being insured, and I said "You can't insure, for you have got nothing to insure;" he said "I have insured"—several weeks after he told me he had got the policy; be called me into his back parlour, and said "Would not this place burn well, Jim?" I said "Yes, but don't burn us"—I did not insure, I lost everything except a few cans and utensils which I saved myself.
Cross-examined. At the time Wright came to the door and roused me up there were no flames in my room—I got up immediately and put on my trousers and slippers, and roused my wife and child—I got them safe out before I went down stairs; it did not take many minutes—I did not save any of the property in my room, I lost everything except my troubers and slippers—I lost my watch and purse; there was some silver in the purse—after seeing my wife and child safe I tried to enter my bedroom, but could not get in for the smoke—Wright passed me on the staircase as I was going down to my shop, and it was then I said to her "Have you aroused the people at the top?"—I was then standing,
speaking to Nash; he was in the passage leading into Portobello Road—there was a good deal of smoke there, and flames too, and on the stairs—I saw how he was dressed from the reflection of the flames in the shop—there was no partition in the passage—I was able to see what dress he had on—to the best of my recollection he had on the same clothes that he had at 5 or 6 in the morning—I did not advise him to insure—I am sure of that—I did not go for the fire escape because I was told that someone else had gone for it—I don't know who told me; it was someone in the street—there was a crowd collected about the house—Nash had not got on the overcoat when I saw him in the passage—I don't know whether the officer from the insurance office came to solicit him; he asked me—Nash did not ask my opinion about it before he insured; I swear that—it was several weeks after he had insured that he said "Would not this place burn well?"—no one was present at the time—he said "I have got a largo fire and the gas on; would not this place burn well, it being all match board?"—he had a large fire in the room, in the grate, and the gas was burning in the room—I have not stated this conversation before; I have not been asked—the first thing he said when I went in was "Is not this room hot to-night? I have got a large fire and the gas well on; this place would burn well"—my statement before the Magistrate was read over to me—I believe I said then "He called me into his back parlour and said 'Would not this place burn well, being all wood?'"—I don't know whether I said anything about the gas being well on; I did not think of it—I never told anybody that I had recovered my money and my watch—I never said so to a person named Parsons—I never complained of the gas, or said that I could not sleep in consequence—he had the gas burning in the parlour when he called me in—I don't know whether it was lighted in the shop, I did not notice; it was past 8 in the evening, I believe—I don't know whether the shop was shut—the shop and parlour joined; I believe there was a glass door between them—I did not see whether the shop was lighted or not, I had my own shop to look after—I just opened the door and looked in as I passed—I don't know whether I mentioned to anybody about the gas being well on—I believe I mentioned it before the Coroner, not before—I don't think I mentioned it before the Magistrate—I did not think then that he was going to set fire to the house; I regarded it as a light passing observation, a joke, that was all—it was not many minutes after Wright had aroused me that I saw the fire in the two corners—the police assisted in getting my wife down—the shop was full of flame at the time; the two fires formed an archway—I could see through the glass door in the passage—I was on the staircase—there was a door leading from the shop to the passage—I believe there is a door from the shop to the parlour—that was not the door I was looking through; it was the passage door—there are twelve or thirteen stairs—the staircase is halfway along the passage, and I had to turn sharp round to the right to my shop—the staircase runs as far as the door leading from the passage into the shop—I can't say on which stair I was standing, I might be two or three steps up, I don't know—the door was on my left hand, and it was through that door I saw the two fires—I did not mention this to anybody till I was before the Magistrate—I did not discuss it with anybody—I know a Mr. Harris—I don't know what he is—I did not hear him
before the Magistrate describe the fire as forming in archway—the door I saw through had a thick plate glass, frosted half way up; the door was shut—I have been charged with being on the pavement with my milk perambulator—I was charged with embezzling 3s. 6d. (I was looked up about two hours) from a person of the name of Smith, a dairyman in Ladbroke Grove Road—I was in his employment—I was sent for trial at the Middlesex Sessions two or three years ago—I was acquitted—I was not acquitted because of the absence of a material witness—there was no witness absent that I was aware of—I will swear it was not so—I was not charged with stealing a load of grains—I was out on bail—the trial lasted about half or three quarters of an hour—Mr. Smith gave evidence—I did not bring an action for false imprisonment—I never had any quarrel with Nash—I was on good terms with him.
Re-examined. I was examined before the Coroner on the 25th—I then mentioned having seen what appeared to me to be two fires—the dispute with Mr. Smith was about a load of grains I was entrusted to sell, and I was deficient 3s. 6d—the same witnesses were examined at the trial as had been called before the Magistrate—I was acquitted by the Jury—after that I started selling milk for myself, and have ever since got my living as a milkman—it is true that I lost my watch at this fire, and everything except the few things I saved from my shop—I could see over the partition from where I was standing on the stairs—on the right hand corner of the shop close to the match-board the flames were working up the matchboarding against the wall, and cm the left-hand corner was a heap of sacks against the wooden partition near the door of Portobello Road—the two flames were working up together, the ceiling was all match-boards, and they formed an archway—I could see that the Backs were on fire.
ALICE KEEN . I am the wife of the last witness—on this Sunday night I went to bed just after 9—I had not been out during the evening—we had been sitting in the front room all the evening, and about 9 weal to the back room to bed—at that time I had not smelt any escape of gas or anything of the kind, all appeared to be right—after I had been in bed I heard the female prisoner knocking at my door—she called out "Jim, Jim, get up, the house is on fire"—she then went upstairs and knocked at the door there—I got up at once, and got out of the window on to the leads at the back—I did not see anything of the prisoner that night, not till next morning at 10.30—Wright and I were on finally terms—about six weeks before the fire she said to me "We have received the policy," and I saw it—I had heard that they had insured.
Cross-examined. It was about 5 or 10 minutes from the time I was first aroused till I got out into the street—I was out directly I was called; in a few minutes, I was in a great hurry, and very much confused—there was a chink in the flooring between our room and Nash's, through which I could see the light shining from the gas in the parlour—I had not been in the habit of throwing things down—I dare say the hole was about an inch or an inch and half wide, I could not say exactly—I heard Mrs. Nash knocking upstairs as I was coming down—I did not hear it more than once—I did not hear the people answer.
Re-examined. I could see from our front room the light shining into their back parlour—it was a little hole in the floor where the wainscot was not quite finished, near the folding-doors between the two rooms—I
could see through it when the gas was alight in the prisoner's backparlour, I could see the light shining—I did not notice it that night—they were out when we went to bed.
ROBERT HARRIS . I am a journalist, and live at 196, Ladbroke Grove Road—the back of the house faces the front of 422, Portobello Road—at half-past twelve on the morning of the 16th May I was in bed in the back room ground-floor—I heard a noise like the crackling of fire—I got out of bed, looked out of the window, and saw that the shop almost opposite my house was on fire—I could see through the fanlight over the shop door—I saw that the flames were reaching up both sides of the room, forming an archway—there was a blank space in the centre, a dark space—I went down-stairs as I was, without waiting to dress—I saw two men outside the shop—I at once went for the fire escape, which was about 300 yards off, at St. Michael's Church, and roused Moore, who was in charge of the escape—I assisted in taking it to the top of Ladbroke Grove Road, opposite my own door—I did not see Nash assist in fetching the escape—I did not notice any man putting on his clothes as he walked by the side of the escape.
Cross-examined. The escape was not drawn by horses, we were pushing it as hard as we could—there were not many pushing it, I was the only one on the right-hand side—I did not send any account of this to the papers—I mentioned the matter to the manager or one of the reporters of the Echo—I did not write any report of it—I describe the flames as reaching up both sides of the room, forming an arch—I have seen two or three fires, but I never saw one before like that—the road is about 20 yards wide—I did not know Nash before that night—I don't think it possible that he could have been assisting at the fire escape without my recognising him—he was not on my side—he might have been on the other side without my seeing him.
FRANK MOORE . I am a fireman—on the morning of 16th May I was in charge of the escape at the end of Ladbroke Grove Road—about 12.30 Mr. Harris called me, and I took the escape to 422, Portobello Road, with constables Leech and Meredith and Mr. Harris—no one else assisted—I did not see Nash there, or any man putting on his clothes near the escape—they were all dressed except Mr. Harris; he was in his trousers, I believe, without any boots or stockings—the fire had a good hold on the building when we got there—the floors were falling in, and the roof was just starting—the fire-escape was no use at all.
Cross-examined. There is another fire-station in the Harrow Road; that is about a mile off—a fire-escape did come from there, and an engine and escape from Notting Hill station—I saw them arrive about 25 minutes afterwards—there was no fire-escape that arrived five minutes after—I could not say exactly the time the engine from Notting Hill arrived, but I should say about 12 or 14 minutes after me—they were of no use; the whole place was burnt—I was called at 12.30, and arrived there at 26 minutes to 1 o'clock.
THOMAS LEECH . (Policeman XR 22). I was in Portobello Road on this Monday morning about 12.15 on duty in uniform—I passed by No. 422 in front and rear; the place then seemed all right—I saw no sign of fire—about a quarter of an hour afterwards, as I was standing at the corner of Bonchurch Road, I saw the flames suddenly burst through the shutters of the shop and crawl up towards the first-floor windows—I was then
between 300 and 400 yards from the house—I went quickly towards the fire, and seeing some people moving about in front of the fire I ran to the fire-escape, arriving there just half a second after Mr. Harris—I and Mr. Harris and Meredith and the fireman assisted with the escape—on the way Mr. Harris, having no shoes or stockings on, complained of the stones hurting his feet, and he fell out, and a man in the uniform of a railway-guard or signalman assisted us with the escape up to the house—I found it all in flames—the flames were up to the second-floor windows—I have known Nash 13 years—I saw nothing of him at all before getting to the house; he was not in any way near the fire-escape—I remained there till the fire was put out—I can't exactly say the time it was got under—I remained there till past 6 o'clock in the morning—I did not see the bodies recovered, but I saw them going away in the shells between 2 and 3 o'clock—after they had been removed I saw Nash—he came round the corner in the direction of Mr. Sutton's, the pawnbroker's, and went to Mr. Barlow's back door—he was wearing a brown Chesterfield overcoat, buttoned up to the top, a billycock hat, trousers, and boots; he was fully dressed.
Cross-examined. I had known him a long time—I know nothing against his character—I always considered him a respectable man.
JOSEPH FRY . I am a grocer, of 9, Hearn Terrace, Warrington Road, Notting Hill—on the morning of the fire, after the engines had arrived, the two prisoners came to my private door—Wright had her dress on, but no shoes or stockings and no shawl or hat—I asked her to come off the step, because of her bare feet—Nash was dressed as usual, in boots and socks—he asked Wright if she would have his socks; she refused to do so, and he said he would go and fetch her a pair of boots—he went and returned with a pair, and she put them on—she showed great distress with reference to people at the top of the house; she feared if they did not follow her directly after she knocked they did not escape.
Cross-examined. She was in a very excited state—the man was not saying anything, only he asked her to come to his brother's.
CHARLES HENRY BOULTER . I am a fireman at the Ladbroke Grove Station—on Monday morning, 16th May, I received a call at 12.44 a.m.—I went with a manual engine to 422, Portobello Road—I arrived there about 12.50—the house was then burnt right out, the floor and roof had fallen, when the fire was extinguished we searched for the bodies, and found three on the ground floor and three in the front basement—they were afterwards taken to the Kensington mortuary—I examined the ruins—the basement under the ruins was not burnt at all—there had been no fire down there whatever; only the ruins fallen in from the floor above—there was a lot of second-hand furniture there; there was a cupboard there, but not even a panel was scorched—I afterwards examined the shop—I saw the place where the front shop joined the next house, where the fireplace had been; it was blocked up with bricks only, no mortar, to a thickness of about 16 inches—the bricks were as close together as you could stack them—no fire could come through there at all—the flue of the chimney joins the flue of the adjoining house—last night, in consequence of what I heard, I examined that fireplace again—I noticed
that some of the bricks had been removed, and a piece of quartering run through into the flue adjoining—it was my impression that that hole had been recently made, by the appearance of it—I thoroughly examined it and found that the mortar was quite fresh—the hole appeared to have been quite freshly made—there was not the slightest sign of smoke or fire—I examined the chimney belonging to the shop—there was no sign of smoke or soot adhering to it; the mortar was quite new, fresh, and clean—soon after the fire was extinguished I noticed the gas meter in the basement; it was disconnected from the supply pipe, and the gas was turned full on—one of my men turned it off—no doubt the action of the fire had caused the pipe to be disconnected from the meter—I did not know Nash before this night—I saw him in the middle of the road near the fire between 2 and 3 o'clock—he seemed to be completely dressed then—he had on a brown coat, and some sort of a plaid sear round his neck; he had a hat on and boots, and appeared to be fully dressed.
Cross-examined. The cock was turned full on, to admit the gas through the meter—the leaden pipe was all melted—the action of the fire would not turn the cock on in that way—it would melt the connecting pipe.
CHARLES TYLER . I am a greengrocer, of 3, Portobello Road—I rent No. 424, next to 422, and let it to my brother, who keeps a beershop—the, two kitchens I let to Charles Pease—the parlour adjoins the shop of 422—on Sunday, 10th of May, I was taking charge of the beershop for my brother—I had no fire in the shop all that day, nor in the parlour; we did not require it, not living there—there was only a fireplace in the parlour.
CHARLES PEASE . I occupy the two kitchens of 424, Portobello Road—I recollect the fire occurring on that Sunday morning—there was a fire in the front kitchen from seven o'clock to between eight and nine, but pot fire after that.
ANNE ANDEEWS . I reside at 4, Branstone Street, North Kensington—in December last the prisoners came to lodge at that house—they occupied one room, for which they paid 2s. 6d. a week—they stayed there till they went to 422, Portobello Road—I saw the furniture which they took with them; there was an iron bedstead, two chairs (the remains of cane-bottom chairs, I think), and a deal table; that was all I saw—I never saw any fender—Wright has borrowed clothes of me—since they went to 422 I went into the shop there; I looked into the parlour as I stood in the shop; they did not seem to have any more furniture than they had in the room where they had lived.
Cross-examined. I have known Mr. Keen four or five years; I lived in his house three years—I was not examined before the Magistrate—Mr. Keen did not tell me to come here; Inspector Phillips came after me—I have never spoken to Keen about this case—I was only once in the shop in Portobello Road; never in the passage or parlour.
JOHN CHARLES GRAHAM . I reside at Nutting Hill—I have occasionally dealt at Nash's shop, in the Portobello Road—I proposed that he should effect a policy, and I filled up this form, from answers to questions I asked him; he signed it—I forwarded it to the Yorkshire Fire Insurance Company's office, and a policy was issued, (The proposal was to insure household goods for 50l., trade effects 20l., stock-in-trade 50l.)
Cross-examined. I canvassed for the order—I called on him three
times, I think, before he consented; that is the usual custom the Insurance Offices have agents they, send round—I did not value the property; we always leave the man to do that—a man can insure for any amount, but he must prove the actual loss.
— MCDONALD. I am a clerk in the Yorkshire Insurance Office—I have not brought my books with me—when a proposal is made a policy is made out from the proposal, and sent to the customer.
WILLIAM WOOLLETT . In May I was acting as surveyor to the Yorkshire Insurance Company—I received this claim, dated 5th May, from William Nash, for 79l. 19s. 6d., in reference to a policy issued, from our, office—the first payment was made before this was sent in; it was 3s. 3d.—the amount of payment varies according to the amount insured and the risk that is run—the amount insured is the first element.
DANLEL MORGAN (Police Inspector X). On Tuesday, 17th May, I saw the prisoner Nash, and he made a statement to me which I took down in writing—I read it to him; he signed it—on 23rd May I saw Wright, and she made a statement to me, which I took down, read over to her, and she signed it—at the conclusion of the inquest on 30th May I apprehended Nash—I told him he would be taken into custody for wilfully setting fire to his house, 422, Portobello Road, on the morning of 16th May, and causing the deaths of six people—he made no reply whatever—I took him to the police station at Notting Hill.
CHARLES PHILLIPS (Police Inspector X). I apprehended Wright on the 30th after the inquest—I said I should take her into custody for being concerned in setting fire to the house in which they lived, and causing the deaths of six people; she said, "It is all through the insurance"—the day after the fire I examined the fireplace in the front shop; it was bricked up to the top in mortar and bricks, about sixteen inches thick, the; thickness of three bricks—I should say sparks could net come through—I examined it again yesterday; three courses of bricks had been taken from the top.
JOHN BALDWIN DARVILL (Recalled). There is the shop door, and what is called the street door; the street door opens into a passage which leads to the foot of the stairs; the stairs are thirty feet from the street door; as you enter the shop from the street, the passage is on the right hand side, and there is a door into the passage at the farther end of the shop, on a level with the parlour door—there are two doors in one partition.
MR. RIBTON submitted that in order to establish the offence of murder there must be shown to exist malice towards the particular person killed, and an intent to kill that person; that the evidence here failed in that respect, and only justified a verdict of manslaughter: The doctrine of "constructive murder" he contended, was only founded upon a dicta, long acted upon, but not really coming within the meaning of the words "malice aforethought," MR. JUSTICE GROVE was clearly of opinion that the case must goto the Jury as one of murder, the argument submitted by MR. RIBTON being entirely contrary to the ruling always laid down by the Judges.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence:— LOUISA MARIA BOND. I live at 46, Norbury Road, Notting Hill—I have known the prisoner Nash seven or eight years, and Wright about five—they were at my house on 15th May—they came about 7 and left
about 11—it would take them from 7 to 10 minutes to go from my house to theirs—I always found Nash to be a very respectable man, and Wright has borne a very good character: I never knew any harm of her.
Cross-examined. I am a dressmaker—the prisoners spent this evening with me—they were both sober.
CHARLES NASH . I am a cousin of the prisoner's, and on the night of the fire I was lodging at 48, Goulburn Road, Kensal New Town—between 2 and 3 o'clock Nash came to my bedroom and asked me to lend him my coat, as he had not one to wear—he had his trousers and boots on, and a cardigan jacket, no great coat—I lent him a black overcoat with a grey lining, and he left—I saw him again between 9 and 10 o'clock the following morning.
FRANCIS FLAMME . I live at 1, Hartwell Mews—I was employed by Mr. Darvill to clear the ruins of the house that was burnt; I was engaged about five or six weeks after the fire occurred—on one occasion, while working down in the cellar, I saw smoke and sparks of fire coming down the front basement from the shop—I could not say where it came from—I sung out "If anybody is there be careful"—I got no answer, and I came out of the basement and looked round, and there was nobody—Mr. Darvill used to lock me in—I saw smoke afterwards a good many times, but I only saw sparks the second day I was there—I could not exactly say how many sparks there were, I saw a good few—I did not try to find out where they came from, I never troubled my head about it at the time—there was nobody in the apartment where I was—the carpenter called my attention to the place a few weeks after; there was then a hole in the fireplace of Nash's shop, about 8 inches in length and between 4 and 5 inches in breadth—the hole was in the chimney, the fireplace was bricked up instead of a stove; the hole was above the bricks.
Cross-examined. I think it was about six or seven weeks after the fire that I went to work there—I am a professional by trade—I was not in the profession at this time, I was clearing the ruins, doing labouring work—it was while I was doing it that I saw the smoke and sparks coming down—I could not say where they came from—there were shavings about—there were no carpenters in the place then, not when I saw the smoke and sparks the first time—Mr. Darvill did not discharge me, I discharged myself; I told him I did not like to work for a gentleman that did not pay me—he did not tell me that I had charged for work that I had not done, and that I must leave—I told him if he did not pay me I would take him to the County Court—the hole in the fireplace was just above where the bricks had been put—men had been at work there since the fire—when the carpenter called me to witness it, the smoke came in my face and his—none of the workmen were using the place for warming glue or anything, that I know of—there was nobody there when I was working there, except one day another man was clearing the ruins—the carpenter's name is Ted Bowman.
By the COURT. I cannot tell how many men were working there; sometimes there was a man and a boy—there had been a great many—I was not examined before the Coroner or the Magistrate, this is the first time I have been up—I should not have known anything about the hole if Bowman had not called me to the place.
over it—the last time was on Wednesday—I went through the hack shop into the front shop with Flamme—I saw a hole large enough to put my head into, directly under where the mantelshelf ought to be, hut there was none—the place was in a very dilapidated condition—I felt fire; Flamme drew my attention to it; he said "Put your hand in there"—I did so, and I could not bear it in there, the heat was so great—there was only a matter of 4 1/2 inches of brickwork between the two chimneys—I saw smoke, it was going up very freely; there must have been a good fire underneath, wherever it was—I have not been in the next house—the chimney seemed full of smoke—I could not see anything but smoke; I could not see the fire, I could feel it—it was not on the same level, it was evidently below somewhere—Flamme was with me all the time, and also a carpenter—I did not see any sparks.
Cross-examined. I have known Nash on and off for ten or eleven years—he is my wife's brother—he did not come to live with us after the fire—we lived in the same house—I rent the house, and his mother has apartments upstairs—it was last week that I saw this hole, that was the only time—it was a hole going into the chimney of the next house—it had not been recently made—the two chimneys back each other.
Re-examined. The first time I saw Nash after the fire was during the day when I went round to see the fire on the Monday; he came to my house the same morning, he and his wife.
NASH— GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on the ground that they considered he did not intend to take life.— DEATH.
WRIGHT— NOT GUILTY . She was also charged on two other indictments, one for arson and one for the murder of one of the other persons, upon which, no evidence being offered, a verdict of NOT GUILTY was taken.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, August 3rd, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
685. GEORGE SLOANE (62) was charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with feloniously killing and slaying Alfred Gearing . The Grand Jury having ignored the bill, MR. ABRAMS,for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
CATHERINE WILKS . I live at 11, Crockford Street, Hoxton—in February, 1880, the prisoner was brought to me by Mrs. Gulham, and asked me to take care of her child for 5s. a week, which I agreed to—she said that she was living as kitchen-maid at the Oxford dining-rooms—I kept the child till June 11, 1881—she very seldom came to see it—she paid me the 5s. a week regularly for the first month, and afterwards 4s. and then 2s. a week—I was very fond of it—she afterwards told me that she had removed from the Oxford to the Cambrian Stores; and I used to send there for my money—when she could not pay she told me it was because she could not afford to keep herself in clothes like the other servants—in April or May she came and said that she was going to take
the child away, but I from time to time made excuses—she said that her friend would keep it for nothing—she called for it several times; she called on Thursday evening, June 9, and wanted the child, but I made an excuse, and she said she would call the next Saturday night, which she did, and took it away between 9 and 10 o'clock—that was June 11—she said that she was going to take it to her friend at 21, Tichfield Street—I next saw it on 20th June at St. James's Workhouse, with a wound on its throat—she owed me about 4s. when she took it away—she said that it was her own child.
SUSAN BARNARD . I am the wife of Thomas Barnard, of 10, Bateman's Buildings—on 11th June, about 11.30 p.m., I saw a little child in Bateman's Buildings crying "Mamma, mamma"—this is the child—I saw something glitter, and found a knife sticking in its throat—I took it out and handed it to a policeman; it was covered with blood—I found a child's hood and a handkerchief in a public-house about thirty yards away, and gave them to the policeman.
MARGARET LEONARD . I am a servant at the Cambrian Stores, Regent Street—the prisoner was my fellow-servant—she was there when I went there—she showed a person two knives in my presence—this is like one of them (produced).
THOMAS CAWTELL . I am a greengrocer's porter, of 36, Bridal Lane—I have been acquainted with the prisoner ten months—she was living with me as my wife about six weeks before she was arrested—I did not know that she had a child—she used to go to work in the morning, and return in the evening—on 11th June, between 11.30 and 11.35, she came to the shop where I work and asked how long I should be—she went away till I had shut up and did not return—I went home and found her there—I was going to marry her.
WALTER BRADFORD . I am a surgeon—on 11th June, about 11.45, I was called to the police-station to examine, this child; and found a small wound in her neck behind the left jaw, apparently caused by a sharp instrument such as this penknife—it was in the vicinity of the jugular vein, and if it had touched it it would have been fatal.
NEWMAN TURPIN (Police Inspector): On 20th June, at 10.30 p.m., I saw Wilks and the prisoner speaking together in Bridal Lane—I said to Wilks "Is this the mother of the child you have seen in the workhouse?"—she said "Yes"—I said to the prisoner "I am a police officer, and shall take you in custody for trying to kill the child by stabbing it in the neck with a penknife"—she made no answer for two or three seconds; she then said "You don't want to show me up in the street; let me go and get my hat and jacket"—she did so, and I took her to the station.
The prisoner in a written defence stated that she was confined in the work-house, and found out that the father of her child, though he had promised her marriage, was a married man; that when she took it from the nurse, not being able to pay for it, she laid it down by the side of the Women's Hospital, thinking it would be taken care of, but had not the heart to hurt it much.
GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, August 3rd; 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. BESLEY and TICKSLL Prosecuted; MR. WILLIS, Q.C., Defended.
The circumstances of this case showing a very great complication of accounts, the RECORDER suggested that it would be difficult to expect a Jury to convict; in order to prove embezzlement the appropriation of particular sums must be shown, and not a general deficiency. Upon this intimation MR. BESLEY did not press the ease, and the Jury found the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, August 3rd, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
690. ALEXANDER JONES** (44) to stealing 4d. of Leon David, from his person, having been convicted of felony at this Court in May, 1879.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
692. GEORGE BURCH (29) and JOHN SMITH (20) to stealing a watch of John Furlong, from his person, and a watch from the person of Thomas Ball , Burch having been convicted in February, 1873, at this Court (See Fourth Court, Friday). [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. STEWART WHITE Defended.
CAROLINE MALVINA DICKLNS . I live at 1, Sussex Place, New Southgate—on Saturday, 23rd July, about 7 p.m., I was outside an omnibus coming to Farringdon Station—the prisoner sat next me—he got off abruptly and I missed my watch—the chain was hanging—I said "That man has got my watch"—I got down as quickly as possible and got hold of his arm—he said "You are wrong, I am not the man"—I said "You are; you have 'got my watch"—this is it (produced)—it is worth about 30s.—he was taken in custody.
Cross-examined. I cannot say how many were outside—I did not talk to any one—I said at the police-court that it happened about 5 o'clock—I was mistaken—I never felt him take it—my depositions were read over to me and I signed them—a little girl, who is a witness, said to me "There is your watch, he has thrown it there"—I saw it quite plainly.
JOSEPH HELLAM . I live at 6, Atfield Street, Goswell Road—I was selling newspapers at the corner of Farringdon Street and saw the 'bus come up, I stepped on it as usual, and saw the prisoner sitting by the
side of the lady—he got down, and the lady felt for her watch and it was gone, and she got down and caught hold of him and said "I want my watch"—he went round the other side of the 'bus and threw it from his sleeve under the 'bus.
Cross-examined. I jumped off the 'bus because there was no one inside—there might have been one more person on the lady's side of the 'bus.
Cross-examined. It was about 7.20 p.m.; I know that by a clock opposite—I heard the lady halloa out "You have got my watch."
THOMAS CHARLES UDALL . I am a Congregational minister—I was coming from the railway station and I heard the prosecutrix say to the prisoner "I have lost my watch; you have got my watch"—there was a little confusion, and directly after I saw the watch lying under the omnibus near the front wheel—this was about 7.20.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SMITH . I live at 19, West Block, Peabody Buildings, Westminster, and am a lamplighter—I was in South Audley Street on the morning of 28th June, putting out the lights—I saw three young men who I cannot swear to—I heard a smash like a shutter going down—I met a policeman, made a communication to him, and went back with him.
JOHN ROBINSON (Policeman C 168). On the morning of 28th June I apprehended the prisoners from a description given by Smith—I went to the Marquis of Granby public-house, found the fanlight had been torn down, and its two iron chains broken—the glass was not broken—I took the prisoners about 50 yards from the public-house—Labe said he was out of it, and made a dart out of my grasp—I called another constable, and he was brought back in a quarter of an hour—Brown said he was a fool for doing it—I took them to the station, where two skeleton keys and two pocket knives were found on Brown.
WILLIAM JACOB MORRIS . I keep the Marquis of Granby, 28, South Audley Street—I went to bed on 28th June, at 1.45 a.m.—the fanlight over the door was left about 1 1/2 inches open for ventilation—it was secured by two strong chains inside—at about 2.20 I was aroused by Robinson, and found the fanlight torn down, and the two chains snapped asunder.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Brown says: "I was coming from Covent Garden, through Glasshouse Street, into the square. We went through some stables and by a church, when a constable said he wanted us, and I said 'What for?' and he said 'Nothing.' He took us to the corner of the street and I asked what was the matter, and he said 'Nothing.' As we were waiting this man attempted to run and the
constable went after him. The constable rang the bell of the house. He did not tell us the charge till we got to the station—one of the keys is my street door key; the other is broken." Labe says: "I have nothing more to say than Brown says."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
EDWARD VANNICROP . I live at 58, Compton Road, Islington, and am a cattle salesman—on 23rd May, about 6 a.m., one of my servants made a communication to me and I went downstairs and examined the house—I found the staircase window open and missed seven coats, in which were a pipe and card case and some other little things—the value altogether was about 10l.—this is the property (produced)—I should say the window was fastened, it is always as a rule.
CHARLES NUTKINS (Detective N). About 2.30 a.m. on 4th June I went to the prisoner's, in College Street, Islington, and told him I should take him for breaking into 58, Compton Road—I cautioned him, and he made a statement which I took down—he said "I was sleeping in a baker's van, and Woodward called me and said 'I have got seven coats,' and we went to the pawnbroker's the same morning and pawned one for 8s., and took another to a shop in Petticoat Lane, and the tobacco box and pipe were sold at Red Hill. We went to Brighton." The charge was read over to him and he said there was a silver flask at Brighton—I made inquiry and found his statement true in every particular—Woodward is the son of an auctioneer living next door to the prosecutor.
By the COURT. He has gone to sea—his parents sent him away to avoid arrest—his father said he thought it his duty to avoid disgrace.
The Prisoner. I did not see Woodward come out of the prosecutor's house; I saw him come out of his own house.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
JOSEPH FRANCIS HILDICK . On 11th July I was walking with my wife in Lower Thames Street—I had a silk handkerchief in my pocket—my wife called my attention to something and, I missed my handkerchief, and I saw the prisoner in the act of dashing it to the ground—he went from my sight, but I believe him to be the man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I would not swear to you because I had not a full view of your face.
JAMES CROSS (City Policeman 793). I was in Lower Thames Street and heard a shout, and I saw the prisoner run between the lady and gentleman.—I have known the prisoner for years—I followed him ana took him.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I plead guilty to it."
The Prisoner's Defence. I did not plead guilty to it at all. I have worked hard all my life, and am quite innocent of the crime.
GUILTY .** He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in
March, 1876, at Ckrhnwell, in the name of John Cronin.—Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
FANNY PONTTNG . I am single, and am in the habit of receiving Post-office orders from the country every fortnight—I had four or five of my letters addressed to the prisoner's house—I have known her about three months—I went to her about 21st June to ask her for a letter, and afterwards met her in the street—I asked her if she had got a letter for me; she said she had received it, but had lost it out of her pocket—I told her I would come and see her at 10 o'clock, if possible, on Sunday, or on Monday morning at 9—I went on Monday at 9, and asked her if she had found it—she said a little boy had brought it, and she gave him a penny for it—I asked her what she had done with the order; she said she had changed it at a pawnbroker's, Mr. Button's—I asked her what she had done with the money; she said two women had stolen it out of her pocket—I never authorised her to sign my name, or any name, on the Post-office order; nor did I ever lead her to believe that she might do it—she had never done it before—the writing on this Post-office order is not mine (produced).
Cross-examined. It does not bear the slightest resemblance to my writing—the prisoner never lent me a shilling; she gave me twopence—she said she lost the money at the Feathers—I do not use the Feathers—she said she went to the public-house after she lost the letter—we were friendly together—I said if she did not get the money during the day I should have to lock her up—I do not complain about the Post-office order being cashed, but my not getting the money—she said that she kept receiving the letters a secret from her husband—she never lent me any money before that twopence—I believe she knew who I received the Post-office orders from—I mentioned the name of my aunt—she offered to get me a shilling or two until she recovered the money.
WILLIAM ELDRED . I am foreman to Mr. Sutton, pawnbroker, of 17, Stockbridge Terrace, Pimlico—on 18th June the prisoner came into the shop and asked me if I would change a Post-office order for £14s., which I did—I did not know her name, and did not ask her—I asked who sent the order, she told me the name that is written on the order—I cannot be certain whether it was written on the order when she brought it to me—I did not see her sign it in the shop—I passed it through the National Bank on the following Monday—they knew in the shop what her name was—she has brought things there—I do not know her address—I believe she lives in the neighbourhood.
Cross-examined. I believe I said that before the Magistrate—I have been in the force four years—I believe the prisoner is a respectable woman, and has not been in trouble before.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
CHARLOTTE EMERY . I am the wife of William Emery, of Popham Street, Islington—I was the last up on 28th June—I fastened all the doors and windows when I went to bed—I got up next morning about 7 o'clock and entered the front parlour at about 7.45, and missed a dress which I had bought the evening before and left on the sofa—I then missed a large shade of wax fruit and a dress which had been hanging on the door, and my husband's dress coat, value altogether about 5l.—they were all safe the night before.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you at the house—I have not seen you pass the house—the drawers had not been touched—you could have taken a good many more things—this is my stand (produced).
ELIZABETH MASTERS . I live at 40, Paradise Place, Islington—somebody called me on the morning of the 29th—I went out at the street door and saw the prisoner putting this shade of fruit into a sack—I told him he should not have brought such disgrace round my door—I knew him by sight—he had a parcel with him—he went round the corner up Pickering Street, and I ran after him in my chemise—my house is not far from the prosecutor's.
Cross-examined. I have seen you working in a stable—you did not tell me you found the shade at Mr. Butler's.
THOMAS BUTLER . I live at 8, Pickering Street, Islington—the prisoner lodged with me—I went into my parlour one morning, and saw a glass shade—I saw the prisoner at 11 o'clock, and asked him how it came there—he said, I went round this morning, and saw the glass shade in the yard; I thought it would get broken, and that in the morning somebody might be glad of it, and give me a few halfpence for taking care of it"—my wife found the stand in the yard.
Cross-examined. You have been working in the yard for three months—I always found you just and honest.
CHARLES NUTKINS (Detective N). I took the prisoner at 4 p.m. on 29th June—I told him the charge—he said, "Very well, I will go with you"—he said he lived at 8, Pickering Street; he said, "There is nothing there," but I went there and found this stand.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KISH Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGHAN Defended.
JACOB BRAND . I manage the business of a bill discounter at 82, Leman Street, Whitechapel—in February the prisoner applied to me for a loan of 50l. upon the security of house furniture and a sole-sewing machine for boots—I asked him if the property was paid for—he said "Yes"—as there was not much furniture in the place I asked him if the machine was paid for, as that seemed to be the principal security—he said "Yes," and he would produce the receipt for it; he afterwards produced this receipt at the office: "September 14, 1880. Received of Mr. E. Walters the sum of 75l. for the Black and Goodear Boot and Shoe Machine Company, Limited. H. Pocock"—I advanced him 50l. in notes
and gold, and he made this declaration, and signed it in the presence of Mr. Archer, solicitor, who is here, and myself—the second paragraph says, "The whole of the household furniture, fixtures, books, plate, linen, china, goods and chattels, sewing-machine by Black (No. 56), now in and about the house and premises aforesaid, and which. I am this day about to assign and mortgage to Isaac Brand to secure 70l. 4s., are my sole and absolute property, nor is any part thereof in any way entailed or charged"—it was explained to him before he signed it—the 70l. 4s. was the sum to be repaid for the 50l. by weekly instalments of 1l. 7s.—I have the bill of sale—he paid about 20l. In instalments—he afterwards received a notice from the Black and Goodear Machine Company, and they claimed the machine.
Cross-examined. We advance money; it is a loan office—we advertise in the papers; I have not the advertisement with me; it is to the effect that we will advance money, not to the effect that we will help tradesmen in difficulties on easy instalments and low interest—it appears in the Daily Chronicle—the loan of 50l. was to extend over twelve months—I believe we charged half a guinea for the visit to the house; I cannot say whether it was a guinea—I gave the prisoner 50l. cash—the half-guinea would be paid afterwards, and added to the amount—our office is about half a mile from the prisoner's house, and I could have gone there by tram for 2d.—we charge for going down and taking the valuation—I may have been there half an hour or an hour—I have been in business about 18 months, and have had several transactions with large and small tradesmen—I have heard of the hire system—there was very little furniture in the room—it was an expensive machine; I took it as paid for, or I should not have advanced 50l. on 10l. worth of furniture—I first saw the receipt when he brought it to the office, before I advanced the money—it was never arranged that he should have the money at 10 per cent., and pay it back by weekly instalments of 10s. each—our terms are according to the amount—I did not say, "It is very late, we have been waiting to go out; there is the money ready for you"—the papers are never completely filled in beforehand—I suppose the interview lasted half an hour—I never said to him, "Don't stop to read this now, but come up in the morning at 10 o'clock, as there will be plenty of time then," and he did not say that he would—I asked him for the receipt in case of any claim arising—on my oath I did not suppose that the machine was not paid for—we always take the receipts so that we shall know the articles are paid for—the declaration is taken before a Commissioner—the prisoner failed in paying the instalments for three weeks before we went into possession—he did not offer to pay 1s. 7s.—he did not say after the broker was in possession that he had the money; we never refuse money—there was no arrangement to take 4l. for the broker's expenses—it was on the faith of the machine and the goods that I lent the money, the machine would not be worth 50/. if it went into the market.
Re-examined. That is our advertisement in the Daily Chronicle, "Money advanced without sureties or publicity at a few hours' notice," &c.
EDWARD ARCHER . I am a solicitor, of Peckham Eye and Great Prescott Street, and am a commissioner to administer oaths—this declaration was made before me—I know nothing about the advance—this is the signature of the party who described himself by that name—I read the declaration to him and said, "It is the same penalty, if not true, as if
you committed perjury"—I took my fee of 1s. 6d.—I said, "That is your name and handwriting, and the contents of the declaration are true, in pursuance of the Act of Parliament"—he said "Yes," and signed it—I did not attest the bill of sale.
Cross-examined. I think I have made one or two declarations before for Mr. Brand—I swear a great many affidavits in the course of the day—I certainly did explain to the prisoner the contents of the declaration—the goods are enumerated in the bill of sale—that I know nothing about—I do not remember the prisoner's face; I cannot say. whether the prisoner is the person—I did not see him till I saw him in the police-court.
ALFRED POCOCK . I am accountant to Messrs. Black and Goodear, boot and shoe manufacturers—this receipt is signed by me—the prisoner about the date of that receipt paid me 25/.—the manager entered into a transaction with him for the hire of a machine—he is not called—the receipt has been altered; it is a very bad "75l.;" it was not altered with my authority or sanction.
By the COURT. The 25l. is in my writing, and the 75l. is not—the prisoner has paid me another 5/. since—he transferred the machine to another man—we have nothing to do with the prisoner now—the agreement was transferred to some mend of his on 6th May, 1881—there had not been more than 25l. paid on the machine when I gave the receipt.
Cross-examined. It is a machine for attaching soles to the uppers; they are greatly used by shoe manufacturers in London; they are expensive; we generally have a good number let out on the hire system to men in small businesses; that is generally known to men in the trade.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiry about him; he has gone through a lot of trouble; his wife has had typhoid fever, and there is misery at home.
JAMES METCALFE DOBSON . I am a solicitor, and attested this bill of sale on 17th February—I went through it with the prisoner, and examined it clause by clause—before the execution the inventory was upon the bill of sale, in which the sewing-machine is specifically referred to—he appeared to understand the nature of the instrument.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear that I read the inventory to him, but he went over it himself before he signed it—this took place at Mr. Brand's office at the time the money was advanced, and when the bill of sale was signed—I am Mr. Brand's solicitor, and have known him about 10 years—I do not think he has done a bill of sale since he commenced business, without my attesting it—the declaration was read through to him in my presence on the same occasion by Mr. Archer—I am not a commissioner to administer oaths—I saw the receipt the day the money was advanced—the money might have been paid over a few minutes before or after I saw the receipt—it was in notes and gold—it is usual for Mr. Brand to count out the money before the borrower—I did not hear that a guinea was charged for the visit; I heard something about "preliminary expenses"—a man has been prosecuted and convicted for swindling Mr. Brand.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, August 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MESSRS. CROOME and BRINDLEY Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended. GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. H. C. RICHARDS Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY Prosecuted; MR. LEVEY Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. A. M. SULLIVAN, M.P., Defended.
JOHN GEORGE LITTLECHILD (Police Inspector). On 10th July I went to 12, Upper Woburn Place, in consequence of an anonymous letter which had been received by the Commissioners of Police; it contained another letter—I saw the prisoner there and showed him the letters, he looked at them—I did not read the anonymous letter to him, but I did the other—I allowed him to read what he liked—these are the letters. (Read: "7th July, 1881. Dear Sir,—I think it only just to bring under your notice the following. There is a young gentleman named Patrick T. Hickie, stopping at No. 12, Upper Woburn Place, W.C., just come from Ireland. I happened to be in a public-house at Brixton a day or two ago; he and two others of the same appearance, also I think, they are Irish too by their accent. They were in a private compartment. I heard Hickie say to one of his companions, 'You, John, must come with me on the night I am to Bhoot that bloody tyrant Buckshot Forster.' They were whispering. He also said, 'Make the cartridges yourself, John, and load your six-chamber; you know we may have to use all chambers to escape; mine is only a four-chamber; it will be good enough for Forster; when it was for Boyd he swore it was a gun I had; it was a revolver. Did not we escape well? Poor Phelans suffered.' At this they all shook hands, and said, 'God save Ireland.' They were half gone with liquor. I found the enclosed, which they dropped in the shop when leaving. Yesterday evening I saw Hickie in Euston Road, and I followed him the address I give you, and found out his name to be the same as is to the letter he dropped. I was not going to take any notice of it until I told my brother, who requested me to inform the police. I am sure he is a Land Leaguer from Dublin. You ought to watch him. He is tall, wears a soft American hat, long overcoat, with velvet cuffs and collar, and dark pants. You will see by the letter that he is to do
the act on Sunday next. Look after him at once, before it is too late. I am, dear Sir, AN HONEST ENGLISHMAN." "12, Upper Woburn Place, opposite St. Pancras, 3rd July, 1881. Dear Malachi,—I will be prepared on Sunday next. I will watch him when coming from his prayers; if I do not get a chance then I will watch him on Monday night. John is to accompany me. We must kill him out at any rate, there is no use in doing it and not killing him then and there. I wrote to Paris and Dublin to-day. Now is our time. Forster is to live or I to die. God save Ireland. Your affectionate brother, PATRICK T. HICKIE. P.S.—John is to make the cartridges. 'I have the R. that shot old Bloody Bones, you know who I mean. Remember, if I do fail, I will get a bullet myself. P. T. H" Addressed, "The Chief of Police, Whitehall Place, Westminster. Very important." Post-mark, "July 8, 1881."—I was accompanied by another officer—I told the prisoner we were police officers, and asked him what he meant by writing such letters—he said, "Why would I write those letters?"—I took from a table close by a document on which was some writing, and said, "Who wrote that?"—he looked closely at it and said, "I did"—I said, "It is very evident whoever wrote that wrote these letters"—I pointed to some writing paper in a small pad, and said, "Here is some similar paper to that on which the letters are written"—he said, "Yes; it is"—he said that he had been in communication with the police, and showed me some printed forms to be filled up by candidates for the police—I said, "I see that you have been applying to join the police"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "In the name of O'Connor, a false name"—he said that he did not think there was any harm in that, and showed me this draft letter, which he said he was just about to forward to the Commissioners of Police. (This stated that he was fairly educated, and was the son of a solicitor in Dublin, and referring to his uncle, John Hickie, of 127, Leadenhall Street, and returning the forms filled up. Signed, William P. O'Connor.) I asked him if that was his writing—he said, "Yes"—I compared it with the letter of 7th July, and pointed out to him the similarity of the writing; it was undoubtedly the same, but he still said that he did not write it—I said that it was perfectly clear that he had written the letters, and he had better not do so again, or he would get himself into serious trouble—I afterwards received from Superintendent Williamson the letter of 14th July, the subject of this indictment; I have compared it with the admitted writing of the prisoner of July 3rd and 7th, and in my opinion they are in the same writing, the characteristics are so marked—I received instructions on 18th July to arrest the prisoner, and did so on the 19th in the Old Kent Road—I was watching, and saw him come from Silvan Grove—I told him I was about to take him in custody for maliciously writing and forwarding a letter to Mr. Forster threatening to kill him—he said, "Do you mean the letter you showed me the other night?"—I said, "Not only that but another, which I will show you at the proper place"—I took him to King Street, Westminster, and showed him this letter. (This was headed"Death," with a drawing of a pistol, a skull and bones, and a tombstone inscribed, "In memory of Buckshot Foster, M.P. R.I.P.""London, 14th July, 1881. Sir,—I deem it proper to give you a chance of saving your life. The only chance you have is to release the prisoners whom have been arrested under your infernal Coercion Act, and resign the office you hold as Chief Secretary for Ireland forthwith.
You know well the base way you have acted towards Ireland and her people, for which you long ago earned the bullet which you will get if you do not take this opportunity. I will, if you are man enough, meet you in the field, and then let the case be decided "you or I." I request an answer on or before Saturday next, to be sent to the following address, to say whether you will meet me or resign the post of Chief Secretary for Ireland, or else die like a dog. I request that you will keep this letter private and confidential, and make it known to no one except your seconds. God save Ireland. P. and H. Address, Post-office, Old Kent Road, for William Patrick O'Connor. The Eight Hon. W. E. Forster, M.P., 80, Eccleston Square." He said, "Who said I wrote that letter?"—I said, "You will be charged with it"—he said, "I can prove I did not write it; it is not my writing"—I found these two scraps of paper on him, they appear to be in the same writing as the other documents.
(The names of Hickie and O'Connor appeared on them.)
Cross-examined. I first went to see the prisoner on Saturday night; I think it was the 10th—I did not go to arrest him, but to caution him against writing these threatening letters—I had no authority to arrest him—I have cautioned people before—I thought him intelligent and smart, just fit for the police, but I did not go on that account—I had not received letters in which he introduced the names of his friends, nor did I go to them and say "Send this flighty young chap out of the country"—I was not acting on my own responsibility—since he has been in custody I have seen his father in Dublin, who told me that he had destroyed some briefs and legal documents which were entrusted to him, and had taken the safe out of the wall and sold it, and he thought none but a road man would do such a thing, and that he came home drunk and went down on his knees and prayed for his departed mother, and then jumped up and threatened to assassinate his father—what his father chiefly told me was that he was a disreputable scoundrel, who could not by any means speak the truth, that his mother was subject to fits, and he thought there was a little of his mother's blood in him—I told all that to the proper authorities—the prisoner answered all my questions fairly—I took no papers but what he gave me voluntarily, the draft letter to the Commissioners of Police, and a letter to his sister, I think, in which he begs her not to disclose his whereabouts or he will be ruined—I also brought away a photograph of Robert Emmett—I was present when he went to the Commissioners' office after my visit, and I thought whether he wanted to be arrested or not he very soon would be—he then asked me for a number of letters which I had taken away, and I referred him to the chief office—I searched the prisoner's room at his own request—I asked him if he had got a revolver; he said "No, you can search me, and search my place and my luggage," and I searched and there was no revolver.
HORACE WEST . I am one of the priyate secretaries to Mr. Forster, the Chief Secretary for Ireland—I received this letter of 14th July by post on the 15th, addressed to Mr. Forster—I opened it, read it, and showed it to Mr. Forster, who read it and sent it to the police.
Cross-examined. I am the second secretary—Mr. Forster gets a great number of these letters.
write this paper, dated the 18th—I have compared it with the letter of 14th July, addressed to Mr. Forster, and to the best of my belief they are in the same writing.
JOHN MOSS BRANDETH . I live at Dublin, and am in the service of the Prudential Life Insurance Society—the prisoner was employed in that office from April to the end of June—I have seen him write over and over again, and have a quantity of his writing here—these letters of 3rd and 14th July are to the best of my belief in his writing, and also the addresses and also this anonymous letter of 7th July.
GUILTY . >Recommended to mercy by the Jury and also by Mr. Ferster.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, August 4th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GILL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
706. CHARLES COOPER (48) PLEADED GUILTY to being found by night with housebreaking implements in his possession, to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Burton, and stealing an overcoat, and 72 handkerchiefs, and 1l. 5s. Also to a conviction of felony at this Court in August, 162.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
WALTEB GATES . I am a grocer, of 384, Essex Road—I engaged the prisoner as porter about the end of March—I had occasion to leave him about the beginning of April on the death of my father—I left on the Sunday and returned on the Monday—I missed my'cash-box from the till just outside the counting-house—I had left it safe there in the possession of my wife when I went away—nearly 100/. was in it—a cheque for 3/. was left in it for my endorsement—it was not there when I returned—the prisoner had gone; he had left his coat behind; he never returned—I knew him as Henry Wilson—this is the cheque; I got it from my customer, Mr. Langrish, a tailor, a fortnight or three weeks afterwards—the endorsement is "Walter Gates, 44, Argyle Square"—I did not write that nor authorise anybody to do it—I believe it is the prisoner's writing—the cash-box was forced open—my wife had sent some of the money to the bank, but two cheques were left in it for my endorsement.
Crow-examined by the Prisoner. I also left two young men, a boy, and my wife in the shop—the cash-box was found in a first-class carriage on the Metropolitan Railway—I adhere to my statement that this bill produced was received from a porter whose address was 94, Petherton Road—the bill was in the box, and I brought it to show your signature.
By the COURT. He was a week in my service, not sleeping in the house, but attending during the day—he wrote his name on the bill in my office—I had a character with him—I made inquiries, but got no information.
Re-examined. He was constantly under my observation, and I have no doubt he is the Henry Wilson I employed.
HENRY LANGRISH . I am a clothier, of 252, Pentonville Board—on the 12th April the prisoner came into my shop—he selected some clothes, and offered this cheque—I observe the endorsement "Walter Gates, 44, Argyle Square, Euston Road," on it—I asked him his address—I believe that was the address he gave for the goods to be sent to—I said to him "I do not take cheques; I shall not let you have the goods till the cheque is cashed"—he said "I want the goods or the cheque, and I will have it"—I said "Where did you get it from?"—he said his master gave it to him for wages—I said "What name is your master?"—he gave me a different name to what was on the cheque, and that made me suspicious—I do not recollect the name—it was between 8 and 9 o'clock at night—I said "I shall not give it to you unless you get a constable; there's a great many of these cheques stolen"—he said "If you won't give it to me will you send it to 44, Argyle Square, in the morning?"—he had said I was to send the clothes to 2, Argyle Square—I sent the cheque to my bank; it was returned dishonoured—the clothes came to 2l. 19s.—in consequence of what I heard from my bank I did not send the clothes—I next saw the prisoner at the police-court—I am positive he is—the man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You gave the cheque to me, not Henry Wilson, unless you are Henry Wilson—my shopman served you—you gave the address of the Elephant and Castle Theatre—you said your mistress was a play-actress, and your master gave you the cheque.
JOHN ENNIS (Policeman R 39). On the 20th May I took the prisoner into custody at the Grecian Theatre—I said "I shall take you for obtaining clothes from various shops"—he said "You have made a mistake"—at the police-station he gave an address as 100, Hawkesley Boad, Stoke Newington—Mr. Langrish identified him.
Cross-examined. You said at the Grecian Theatre "You have got the wrong man"—you asked to ride in a cab, and did so—at the station 12s. 4d. in bronze was found on you, and the suit of clothes which you were wearing—I went to the Hawkesley Road—the landlady said "You are welcome to look through the place, but we have no knowledge of the man"—I asked for Duncan and for Wilson—I did not say to you "What have you done with those watches? if you have sold them or got them tell me, and I will take good care that neither of these persons come against you, and you can depend upon me for that"—I said "If you like to tell me where the watches are, you can, and they may not come against you"—I did not produce a piece of paper for you to write an authority to receive the watches, nor say "If you write an authority it will be all right."
Prisoner's Defence. I was never in this person's employ. I should have employed Counsel and brought evidence, but my family have had the smallpox. I know nothing whatever about it. I am not the man at all.
GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony on 3rd May, 1880, at Clerkenwell, to which he
PLEADED NOT GUILTY.
RIHARD HUMPHREY . I am a warder at Coldbath Fields—I was present when the prisoner was convicted in 1880—I produce the certificate of conviction—I subsequently had him in custody at Coldbath Fields twice—the
mark on his face is in our description of him—he had been convicted before that, but it was not proved.
GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
WILLIAM VOLCKMAN . I am the senior partner in the firm of William and Charles Volckman, who carry on business at High Street, Stratford, as wholesale provision manufacturers—the prisoner entered our employment about the end of 1879—we have several town travellers—I had several interviews with him—I engaged him to travel for us in a particular district to be assigned to him by the firm, in London—he was to give up his whole-time, and to be paid a commission, which started at two per cent, upon moneys received—he drew a weekly sum at first of 2l. 10s., but latterly of 3l.—his duty was to account daily for all sums received, and to pay in daily all large sums, and smaller sums as frequently as possible, but latterly there was a hard and fast rule made that all sums should be cleared on the Friday evening—I instructed him myself that he was to make an absolute clearance of all moneys on Friday evening, in addition to reporting daily such sums—those were my general instructions, in order to facilitate the cashier paying into the bank all moneys of the week on the Saturday morning—that rule was brought into operation in November or December last year—when he entered our service he had been engaged by some house in the country, with whom there were a few outstanding accounts, and I gave him permission to settle those as soon as he could—in consequence of certain information I received I examined our books—the 13s. 5d. received from Mr. Assendon is not entered, nor the 3l. 9s. 3d. from Mr. Eltham, of Dalston—I had had occasion to speak to the prisoner several times in reference to a very considerable overdraft on his commission—on the 11th June I brought to his notice Mr. Eltham's and Mr. Assendon's accounts as not having been advised or paid in by him—in consequence of what passed I declined that he should further represent the firm—the two Raines were present at a portion of that interview—I received this letter on the 14th June. (From the prisoner, dated 11th June, 1880, enclosing statement of sums received, and asking for cash account to be made up and receipt forwarded)—the total is 32l.—I have not received a penny of it.
Cross-examined. The interview on the 11th June took place in my private office—I showed him the account—he did not say he had not received those sums, but he offered to pay them—I had suspended his right to draw 3l. a week by arrangement with him; that was suspended for about three weeks—he said something to the effect that if I would pay his commission ho would pay these accounts—I refused to pay him his commission on that occasion—I am not positive, but I believe one of the Raines was present at the interview—I believed the prisoner had a guarantee from the Guarantee Society—I said it would be a question for his guarantors—only Eltham and Assendon's accounts were mentioned at that interview—I did not then know of Mr. Fay's account—I there and then suspended him—his letter of the 11th was the first notice I had of Fay's account—seven sums are there mentioned—the last account rendered
to the prisoner would be the April account, showing the large overdraft by him—it might be March—Mr. Coulson came to me about the overdraft—no guarantee was effected—I received the prisoner's letter of the 23rd June, asking for a statement of account and settlement—I gave no reply, under the advice of my solicitor—I had been in correspondence with the Guarantee Society through my solicitor and one of our employes—I took my solicitor's advice about the 13th June, and afterwards the matter passed over to the police by his advice—I had no direct correspondence with the Guarantee Society—I had about five other metropolitan travellers besides the prisoner and an assistant—there may have been a difference in the rate of their commission—there have been modifications in the districts from time to time—the prisoner has been over the same ground the whole time—one of the modifications was Mr. Volckman had part of the prisoner's district—the prisoner succeeded our oldest traveller; the old traveller had a list of places—his district was north of the Thames, not the West End—the list would take a fortnight to go the round, or rather ten days, every day except Saturday and Sunday—he might do one day's work on another day, but it would be irregular and against instructions—sometimes a disorder of that sort occurs—this is the prisoner's book, with the names and addresses of the persons arranged in a particular order, according to the days of calling—the customers would write and complain if the traveller did not call on his right day—the practice of calling in that order was followed for the convenience of the customer, and specially for the convenience of the firm in its cartage and deliveries—two or three days elapsed between the order and delivery, not more—we had a traveller named Walters—we have one named Betteridge—I saw this little book of the prisoner's yesterday for the first time—it is not the firm's book, but his private book—I have not found in it any entry of Eltham's or the other account—I impressed upon the prisoner that he must give the whole of his time to the firm, or he could not do our work—he was at our beck and call whenever we chose to summon him—occasionally travellers paid in on the Saturday—that was a departure from the rule of the house—I do not recollect whether I wrote to Mr. Eltham—I found out about his account some few days before the 11th June—I think Mr. Eltham sent me his receipt—that is my letter of the 18th May, acknowledging the receipt given by our traveller for the 3l. 9s. 3d.—I spoke to the prisoner about it—he did not deny it when I showed him the receipt, of course—I do not recollect his saying "If you pay up my commission I will pay up that sum," nor what he said, but he did not say that—he said something about an oversight—the commission included expenses—travellers would be allowed to draw more than their usual sum if their commission account showed they were entitled to it, but I should call for a report before I paid anybody in advance.
Re-examined. The engagement was verbal—our travellers give the whole of their time to us—the prisoner ought to have the old traveller's book—his overdraft was about 30l.—I refused to pay his commission because we should be putting ourselves in a false position—this letter of the 9th June, which was found on the prisoner, was my dictation. (Stating that Mr. Assendon had written that his account was paid, and asking the prisoner when he collected it)—the prisoner drew over 3l. a week, but not by my consent—I first knew of it the week before I taxed him with it.
I am cashier to Messrs. Volckman—it was the duty of travellers to account to me for all moneys received—the prisoner's duty was to account for all sums he could every day, and others on every Friday night—I was present on the 11th June at the interview with Mr. Volckman and the prisoner—previously on the same day he had given me an advice of an amount received from Mr. Assendon—he asked me to tell Mr. Volckman the amount had been advised—this letter of 8th June was written to the prisoner—this is a press copy—the account should have been advised on March 11th—I said I would not tell Mr. Volckman the amount had been advised—at a second interview with the prisoner Mr. Volckman said "Why did not you pay in these amounts?" referring to Eltham's and Assendon's—the prisoner said "I should have paid them, but really for the last two or three weeks I scarcely know whether I have been standing on my head or my heels."
Cross-examined. I was at my desk when the prisoner spoke to me—my brother George would be at his desk; he would not hear what was said—very likely I said "Tell him yourself," or something to that effect—I believe he replied "Very well," "All right," or something of that kind—the prisoner did not say to Mr. Volckman "I will pay them when you make up the commission accounts"—he said he would pay them if his commission account was paid—Mr. Volckman said he should not touch it—I do not remember his saying "It will be a question for the Guarantee Society"—the last commission account was made up to June 11th—that was the account I made up against him—there has been no monthly settlement with the prisoner since the overdraft—the previous account was to May 31st—he was not-allowed to draw anything for three weeks—his district was a fairly large one, and his expenses would be considerable. I am a bookkeeper to the prosecutor—I am brother to the last witness and live with him—on the 11th June the prisoner told me he must leave—he first spoke to me about the amounts ho had not paid in—I was present at his interview with Mr. Volckman—the prisoner said he had been worried, and did not know whether he was standing on his head or his feet, and that he had lost his book—he mentioned that as his justification for not clearing his accounts—I said I could give him no advice in the matter—his commission account is in my writing—it goes down to 11th June, 1880—he owes to the firm 25l. 13s. 6d.—I cannot explain how he overdrew to that amount—it was not done to my knowledge.
By the He was entitled to a commission on all moneys received from his district—he accepted my account so far as I know.
Cross-examined. I could not say when the last account was rendered to the prisoner—my account is an extract from the ledger—I never acted as cashier—the prisoner saw the January and February accounts—he said some items were omitted; he said "I must live"—I understood him to mean he must have the means of living—I told you at Stratford there was so much said I could not remember half—I meant not that the prisoner was constantly bringing up these matters, but that there was so much from the beginning to the end of this business that I could not say what took place at a particular interview—he did not deny the amounts being paid by the customer—he knew that I knew that the sums were not handed over.
Re-examined. I do not think he mentioned the matter before the 11th June—he had drawn his commission up to three weeks before the 11th of June—I saw him several times on the 11th June before I went into Mr. Volckman's private office; then the amounts were mentioned to him—he had not previously mentioned them to me—I wrote this letter to him on the 8th June. (Asking the prisoner to hand over all moneys immediately on receiving them.) I am a customer of Mr. Volckman and live at Church Street, Stoke Newington—this is the prisoner's receipt for 13s. 5d. in his writing—I paid that to him on the 10th April—the receipt is on one of my bill-heads—the prisoner had not one. I paid 3l. 9s. 3d. to the prisoner on 15th March and received this receipt—I subsequently received a second account—I spoke to the prisoner about it—he said "It is a mistake in the books; it is all right; tear it up;" that was about the end of April; it was a monthly settlement.
(Police Sergeant K.) I arrested the prisoner at 11 p.m. on the 17th July at his residence, No. 1, Oakley Yilla, Chelmsford Road, Wood ford—I found upon him this pocket-book and the papers contained in that bundle.
submitted, first, that there was no evidence of embezzlement, there being no concealment and no denial; secondly, that the prisoner was not a servant within the meaning of the statute. He referred to the cases of Reg. v. Norman, 1 Carrington and Marshman, p. 501; Reg. v. Creed and Reg. v. Bailey, 12 Cox's Crown Cases; Reg. v. Negus and Reg. v. Turner, in 11 Cox, p. 551. The had grave doubts whether there was sufficient evidence to show felony, but such evidence as there was must go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, August 4th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and Prosecuted;
MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
CHARLES MARTIN . I am a labourer, of 6, Fairy Street, Stoke Newington—I bought a pony at Barnet Fair on 4th September last; it was about two years old, or eighteen months, and an entire pony—one testicle is down and the other up—you could feel the two—it has two marks under the chin where the flesh and hair were rubbed off by the halter after I had it; it also had a white star on the forehead—I brought it home, and Richard Scutching used to take it for me to Tottenham, and tie it up, and the halter used to run slack, which rubbed off the hair—I afterwards sent it to Aylesford, where William Crook kept it for about seven months—I fetched it up last Easter Monday, and turned it on to Stoke Newington Common to run loose where there were plenty of
others—I brought it home every day and turned it out every morning—I missed it on 29th April—the prisoners came to live near me after I lost the pony—I gave information to the police the same afternoon—I saw it in the possession of Farrow, a fish dealer, on 20th June, I think—he showed me a receipt, and in consequence of what I heard I went to see the lder prisoner with Farrow—Farrow said "This man has owned his pony," and he wrote out an address and went on a car with the prisoner, and I heard no more—we all three went to the police-station later on, where we saw Inspector Blackmail—on our way to Stamford Hill the elder prisoner said he bought the pony at Hampstead on 4th March; he repeated that, and when we got to the station he gave a card to the inspector, and said that was the man he bought it of—Farrow said "You must be telling lies, because you told us coming along that you bought it at Hampstead"—before going to the station Farrow and I and two others went to the prisoner's house in Marine Street, Hackney Road, where we saw the female prisoner—Farrow said "This man has claimed that pony I bought of you," and she said "It is not his pony; I can show the receipt for it; I can bring it over the first thing in the morning; I cannot find it to-night"—she said they bought it in Shropshire—she afterwards came to me in High Street, Newington, and asked what I was going to do about the case—I said "It is my pony, and I mean to try and get it"—she said "If you had not put it in the hands of the police I would have done what I could for you, but if you put it in the hands of the police you must put up with the consequences"—this is the receipt. (Read: "March 4th, 1881. Received of Mr. J. Gathercole the sum of 12l. for pony. By Chas. Jones, from Dowlais.")
Cross-examined. I saw it twice at Aylesford before I brought it up on 18th April—it was between 11 and 12 hands high; I have not measured it—I had not both testicles drawn a fortnight ago—Mr. Tagg, the veterinary surgeon, was examined for me at the police-court—when he examined the pony one testicle was higher up than the other—Cosgrove, the common-keeper, has had ample opportunities of seeing my pony—I did not think of branding it—when they tie ponies up they mostly do it so as for the halter not to rub them in that way—I am not sure that I have ever seen a pony in that state before—I am sure this is my pony—when I was examined at the police-court on 30th June, the only prisoner in custody was the boy—he was remanded three times from week to week—on 20th July the other prisoners were taken—I saw them at the police-court to give evidence for their son—I know Worsfold, of 10, Fairy Street, close to me, and also Wright—I never said to any one "I wish I had marked the pony so that I might know it," I should know it out of a thousand, and I told every one so—I might be mistaken to an inch or two in its height—I did not know what a hand was then—I am a bricklayer's labourer—I had the pony to try and do myself a little good—the prisoners came near me about the middle of May, and stopped three weeks—I do not know that the pony stood outside there—the eldest prisoner said he bought it of his friend Mr. Onslow—I did not hear him deny that the pony was mine—I swear it is my pony.
paid her she asked me if I would mind the receipt being made out for 9l., as her husband had refused to sell the pony for less than 9l.—I did not think there was any harm in doing so, but I would not make use of the receipt for anything—she met me as I was going home and said "I swear that is not Martin's pony"—she asked if I would take 1l. a month until the pony was paid for, as she wished not to go to law—I had seen the pony outside the prisoner's house—I do not know that I ever saw it in Martin's possession—I should say I had seen it in their possession for about three weeks before I bought it.
Cross-examined. I am sure of that—they lived about 50 yards from me—the pony was sometimes tied to an iron post and sometimes to the fence—it is a quiet pony—Martin parsing by might have seen it.
(Inspector N). On 20th June, about midnight, Martin, Farrow, and the eldest prisoner came to the police-court—Martin claimed a pony which Farrow had in his possession—he said he bought it from Mrs. Gathercole—the eldest prisoner said "I left instructions for my wife to sell the pony, as my boy I bought it for was too lazy to make use of a barrow"—he said he bought of Mr. Onslow, cattle dealer, of Broseley—I asked him when he went to Broseley—he said "I did not go for it, it was sent to me by rail a few weeks ago"—Farrow said "You must be telling lies, as you told us outside you bought it of a man at Hampstead Heath"—the eldest prisoner said, turning to Martin, "If that is your pony have it, and I will get the money back from my friend Mr. Onslow; but to show you that I came by it honestly, I will produce a receipt to you in the morning, you can always find me, I am a driver on a red car between Stanford Hill and Moorgate Street."
Cross-examined. That is true I believe—he was not to be found on the red car the next day—I do not know anything against his character—I do not know whether the two eldest prisoners are married—the boy was detained at Lea Bridge on 29th June.
WILLIAM CROOK . I live at Aylesford, in Kent, where I rent some land—I had possession of a pony belonging to Martin from September last until the Saturday after Good Friday—I took care of it all the time, and I know the marks upon it—it had a mark on its forehead and one of its testicles had not come down, but you could reach it with your finger—it had long hair when I had it and a long mane and a tail nearly to the ground—I have since seen it at Worship Street—it was shown to me by the police—on my oath it is the same pony which I kept for Martin.
Cross-examined. It would be about 2 1/2 years old; I cannot say for certain—it had a tidy star on the forehead, as big as a half-crown—I have never known the testicle of a pony which has been up, to drop again.
CYRUS ONSLOW . I live at 182, Southwark Bridge Road, and am assistant to Dr. Marsden—I formerly lived at Broseley, in Shropshire, where I carried on business until 12 months since—I sold the prisoner many horses while at Broseley—I cannot remember the date of selling him a pony—I have not seen the pony the subject of the inquiry—I have not sold him one within the last 12 months.
Cross-examined. I have know the eldest prisoner for three years, and have always found him a straight-dealing and honest man—I know he
was in the service of the North-Western Railway Company as inspector of the Horse Department—I spoke to a man this year about selling a horse, and mentioned Gathercole's name to him—it may have been a man named Jones; I cannot tell—I probably gave him Gathercole's address, because Gathercole told me if I knew of a cheap pony or horse to recommend it to him, and I kept the address by me in order to do so—I am a veterinary surgeon—when a testicle during the first year has not come down through the abdominal ring I have never known it to come down after.
RICHARD SCRUTCHING . I live at 18, High Cross Lane, Tottenham, and am a labourer—I know Martin's pony, and I used to take it to grass—I have seen the pony which the police have, it is Martin's—I was with Martin when he bought it and sent it down to the country—I saw Farrow with it one day—I knew Martin had lost it—I told Martin of it.
Cross-examined. I saw the pony after it came back to London in a field close to the common on a Sunday—I used to tie it to a piece of wood, and let it graze about.
FREDERICK MADELL . I am a greengrocer of Stoke Newington—I know Martin's pony; it is a bay pony, and has a white mark on the forehead, and one of the testicles is up—I saw it the next day he bought it at Barnet Fair—the more I see it the more it becomes Martin's pony.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court "I know the pony by its colour and shape and by one of the testicles being down"—that is what I say now—bay ponies often have a white star on the forehead.
JOHN POLLARD . I am a marine-store dealer, of 206, High Street, Stoke Newington—I knew Martin's pony before it was sent to Aylesford—the pony in the hands of the police is the same—I saw it three or four times a day before it went to Aylesford.
Cross-examined. One of the testicles is not down so much as the other—it might have altered a little. I live at 31, Otway Street, Hackney—on 29th April I was bringing my pony to the common, and saw the younger prisoner leading a pony which had a long tail; I asked how much he would take for that old pony—I had heard of the prosecutor's loss—it was between 12 and 1 o'clock—I did not see the prisoner again until I picked him out from several others at the police-station.
HENRY CARPENTER . I live at 14, Hill Side, Wood Green—on 29th April I was walking in Stoke Newington, and I saw the younger prisoner leading a pony off the common—I have since seen the pony in the hands of the police, and to the best of my belief it is the same.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear either to the young man or to the pony.
AARON COLE . I live at Hoxton, and am a labourer—I saw the younger prisoner with a pony at the back of the house, singeing it—that was about a week after he had it—I did not hear of the pony being stolen—it had two marks under the chin and a white star on the forehead—the marks on the chin were rubs from the halter—it had a long tail when it first came, and afterwards it was short—the first day I was examined at the police-court the female prisoner came up to me, and said she would give me 2l. if I would say the pony had only been there three weeks, and that if I got her son sent away she would send a bullet through me.
Cross-examined. I have a licence as a tram car driver—I have not it with me—my sister and Martin, the prosecutor, were present when the 2l. and a bullet were spoken of—I gave that evidence at Worship Street—I did not give it in open Court, but outside—I told the Magistrate that the last week I was examined there.
Detective Sergeant.) On 29th July I was at the police-court, Stoke Newington, and saw the younger prisoner there; I told him he was charged with stealing a horse on Stoke Newington Common—he said "You mean a brown pony;" I said "Yes, it is a pony"—his mother came and brought this receipt; she said "We bought it of a man on Hampstead Heath named Jones"—I was at the station on 20th June, when the eldest prisoner, Farrow, and Martin were there—I received a card from the inspector, and he told me to make inquiries about it, and I asked the junior prisoner where he got the pony from, and he said they bought it from a man named Onslow out of a drove on Hampstead Heath—on 13th July I took the elder male prisoner in custody and told him the charge, he said "I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined. I made inquiries, and the eldest prisoner is a respectable man, as far as I can learn.
JOHN BAKER . Policeman.) On the morning of 30th June I had a conversation with the younger prisoner—I told him it was a bad job about Martin losing his pony off the common; he said "I know it was Martin's pony, and that it was stolen off Stoke Newington Common"—he did not say who stole it—I took the female prisoner on 30th July; she said "I can prove it is our pony, I borrowed the money to pay for it."
Cross-examined. I had no conversation with the younger prisoner before I said about its being a bad job—he was in custody at the time; there was no one else by—he volunteered the statement to me—I would not swear that I did not mention Martin first—he did not say his father's pony—I took it down in writing, and gave it to Inspector Grace—I have not brought it with me, and the inspector is not here—we always take such statements down in writing—we are bound to leave them at the station with the inspector—I told him anything that he said might be used in evidence against him—I have been in the force going on for 14 years.
Re-examined. Our instructions are to hand over what we take down to the inspector, and I have followed them.
Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE TEGG . I am Veterinary Inspector of Essex, and live at Stamford Hill—I was a witness for the prosecution at the police-court, and attended here at the instance of the prosecution to-day—I have examined the pony in the hands of the police—it is 12 hands and half an inch; its testicles are both down, there is a very slight difference between the drop of one testicle and the other—I have not known of a case of a horse or pony born with one testicle up in the abdominal ring, and its coming down—it could not happen between September of last year and June of this year if he were two years old in September.
Cross-examined. If the testicle has not passed through the abdominal ring it gets too large to come down—there might be a slight contraction of the spermatic cord.
am in the service of the Metropolitan Board of Works—I have seen the pony that was grazing on the common and the one in the hands of the police—they are not the same ponies at all—I hare no interest on either side.
Cross-examined. They are not least alike—the horse Martin brought on to the common and said belonged to him I should call a light chestnut, and the one in the hands of the police is a very dark chestnut, and the appearance of the horses differs very much—he head of this is muck larger than the head of Martin's—the common is only 5 1/2 acres—I was called at the police-court—I do not care who takes the horses away; I am ordered to impound all horses that come on the common.
JOHN DEFRIEZ . I am a general dealer, of 47, Fanshawe Street, Hoxton—the younger prisoner was out on bail for a short time, and I was one of his bail—I saw him in possession of a pony in March—the pony in the hands of the police is the same—I could make no mistake about it, or I should not have bailed him—I went down to Stamford Hill.
Cross-examined. I could make no mistake about it—it is a dark chestnut pony, with a white mark on its forehead; it is not a star—I took a walk on a Saturday, and saw it standing outside with a barrow—I noticed the marks of the halter—I did not notice anything particular about the testicles—I first heard of it when the younger prisoner was charged; the father came to me, and said "My boy has got into trouble about that pony;" I said "What pony?" he said "The pony I bought for him to go to market with;" I said "Before I can be bail for that boy I must see the pony"—I went-to the police-station—Cosgrave was not called then—the case was remanded five times.
Re-examined. I was at the police-court to give evidence if required—I was bail for him each time.
JOHN WORSFOLD . I am a coach painter, of 10, Fairy Street—I live right opposite Martin—I saw him with a pony in September, it was a light chestnut; I also saw a pony in Farrow's hands which Martin claimed as his—I do not believe it is the same pony.
Cross-examined. This is a bay.
Re-examined. I am friendly with Martin—I came here to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.
JOHN and MARGARET GATHERCOLE— NOT GUILTY. JOHN GATHERCOLE, JUNIOR,— GUILTY Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
The Jury found the wife guilty as an accessory after the fact, which finding MR. GEOGHEGAN. claimed as a verdict of acquittal, there being no such Count in the indictment.
MR. WILLES. Prosecuted.
SARAH WRIGHT . I am the wife of Edward Wright, of Little. Marlborough Street—at half-past 4 a.m. on 1st July I was awoke by a noise caused by the chains of the door—t went to the window, looked out, and saw the prisoner leaving the front door—I called out "What are you doing? you had better go on"—he went on, a constable came up, I gave information to him, and he took the prisoner—the shop door was locked the night before by my husband—this is not my key (produced.)
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I disturbed you by opening the window-my husband was in bed, and asked me who I was speaking to he did not see you until you were in the hands of the police.
WILLIAM ATWELL (Policeman C 25). At 4.30 a.m. I was called by Mrs. Wright, and went in search of the prisoner—I met him in King Street—I asked him where he was going—he said "To the shop," and that he worked for Mr. Foxley in King Street—he had keys in his hand, and said "These are the keys of the shop; if you want any reference about me you can get it there; I have worked there for the last five years"—I asked where he came from; he said "From home"—I took him back to Mrs. Wright, who at once said "That is the man I saw at the door"—he said he had not been there before, and that it was a mistake—I found the shop door open on the chain—I took the prisoner to the station, and found on him twenty-five keys of various sizes (produced,) one of which opened the shop door—he also had two purses, 2s. in silver, 5d. in bronze, three pawn tickets, and a knife—he declined to answer any questions.
Cross-examined. I first saw you in King Street opposite the fire engine station—I am sure you told me you worked for Mr. Foxley; you did not say "Oxley and Son"—I asked you if you had any latchkey about you, and you handed one to me, which I tried in the door—I t did not take me some time to make it fit—the first key you gave me did not fit the door, and you produced the other—you wore a carpenter's white apron with a bib to it, turned up, and a black coat.
JOHN STEVENS . I live at 22, Bentinck Street—these keys belong to George Maddox, my employer—I last saw them, before I saw them at the police-court, on Wednesday, 29th June, in Mr. Maddox's shop, 33, Portland Street.
GEORGE MADDOX . I am a French polisher and carver in Portland Street—these keys are mine—I last saw them, before I saw them at the police-court, on 29th June—I hung them on a knob on my room door in Portland Street—I missed them next morning when the men came, and the shop door was open.
Prisoner's Defence. On 30th June, a little before 9 a.m., I found those keys in Soho Square. I believe there are two bunches of them. The others are ordinary keys which I brought from. Canada. As to the charge, I can only say that I had not passed the place, and she is certainly mistaken in my identity. If I had been working for Mr. Foxley I should not be going away from the premises next door to the fire engine station. His own sense would have told him I was going away from the shop instead of to the shop.
GUILTY .** He then PLEADED GUILTYto a previous conviction in September, 1879, >at this Court— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, August 5th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MESSRS. JPOLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MESSRS. WILDEY
WRIGHT and GREENFIELD Defended.
HENRY WARD (Policeman X 207). On Sunday, the 17th July, at 2.35 a.m., I was in Warrington Gardens, Notting Hill, when I heard a woman's voice calling "Murder" and "Police" at No. 40—I went towards the place and heard blows and thumps coming from that direction—I went into the house and up to the first floor, and opened the door, where I found the prisoner in the act of rising from the bed in his shirt, and trousers, but he had no boots on—blood was spattered over his arm and breast right down his trousers—I saw a woman in bed in her nightdress, ana the prisoner kissed her—he knelt down by the chair on the other side of the room, and mumbled something which I could not hear—when he got up I pointed to the woman, who was bleeding from the arm, and there was blood on the wall and on the floor—she was insensible—I laid to the prisoner "Who has done this?" he made no reply—I found this Russian club by the bedside, and on it I saw marks of blood and hair—the prisoner laid down several times on the floor—I said "I shall take you for violently assaulting your wife;" he said "All right"—he was perfectly sober as far as I could see.
Cross-examined. There were no signs of a struggle—the clothes were up to her knees—I believe no struggle occurred—I do not think the prisoner understood what was going on, or what I said.
JAMES DAVIS . I am the landlord of the house where the prisoner has lived for a year with the deceased as his wife—he is an artist—on Saturday afternoon, 16th July, I saw him—the next morning I heard a scream—I let in the policeman, who went to the prisoner's room—I heard the woman moaning—on the door being opened I said "Is there anything the matter here?" the prisoner said "Yes, there is something the matter here"—I have heard the constable's account, and it is quite right—there was a great deal of blood on the floor—the woman died about 7.15 a.m. on Monday, the 18th—she remained insensible from the time I went in with the constable until she died—I have not observed anything peculiar about the prisoner before this—he has lodged with me about twelve months—I have only seen him go out once all the time.
Cross-examined. I may have seen him about twice in a month—he came downstairs sometimes to ask my little boy or girl to go an errand, and that was the extent of my knowledge of him—I never heard any miswords at all between the prisoner and the woman—as far as I know they lived on affectionate terms—her son and his wife came to see him sometimes.
HANNAH SEAMER . I live at 40, Warrington Gardens, Notting Hill—about 3.30 a.m. on the Sunday morning I heard the screams of a woman, and I went into the prisoner's room after the policeman came—I saw the state in which the woman was, and I attended to her until she died, a litttle after seven o'clock on Monday morning—I went to live at the house on the 29th September, at which time the deceased and the prisoner were living together—they appeared to live very happily, and I never heard them quarrel—I used to see him now and then—during the whole time I was there I never saw him go out of the house; he kept to his room—we only said, "Good morning" to each other—I last saw the deceased on the Saturday evening, about eleven o'clock; she said,
"Good evening," and seemed in good health and spirits, and was apparently sober—she was a respectable, well-conducted woman, as far as I saw.
GEORGE DUNCAN DEAR . I live at No. 2, Warrington Mews, Notting Hill, and am a coachman—I am the son of the deceased—as far as I know she and the prisoner were married—I have frequently seen this Russian club—I last saw the deceased alive about 9.50 on Saturday—I know that the prisoner has been in a lunatic asylum, and on several occasions I persuaded my mother to leave him in consequence.
Cross-examined. Twice the prisoner tried to commit suicide within the last eighteen months—I frequently saw him at Davis's house—he was eccentric in his manner—I believe him to be a man of sound mind when the drink is out of him—the reason he was taken to a convalescent home, or lunatic asylum, was through drink—he has been ever since more or less of unsound mind—laziness and drink have been the cause of it—I know Mr. Dawe, the prisoner's father, who lived in Goldhawk Road, Shepherd's Bush—he was an eccentric man—I have heard Mr. Dawe speak of his uncle.
Re-examined. The prisoner used to drink to excess sometimes—he has been living at the address where this occurred ever since he came from the Convalescent Home at Wands worth, a little over twelve months—during that period he has not been doing anything for his living that I know of; he might paint a few pictures to get a trifle—my mother sold them, and she used to bring them to me—about six months back I noticed that he was very strange in his manner when I went to see him; he seemed to sit in one place, and took no notice of me or my wife—he was sober.
MR. BOREHAM. I am a surgeon, of 110, Goldhawk Road, Notting Hill—about 3.30 a.m. on 17th July I went to 40, Warrington Gardens—I went up to the first floor front room, where I found a woman lying on the bed covered with blood—there were two cuts on two fingers on the right hand; she had a compound fracture of the large bone of the arm, and there was a jagged contused wound about three inches long, through which the edge of the bone was peeping out—the head was very much injured—I made a post-mortem examination—she died about 7.15 on Monday morning—she had several contused lacerated wounds on the fore part of the head and face and behind the head—some of the bones of the face entering into the formation of the face also were smashed in—I should think there might have been at least six separate wounds—I saw no other instrument than this club which would inflict such injuries—it had hair and blood on it—the deceased was about 50—I saw the prisoner in the room, and made observation of him—he seemed to have a very restless eye, downcast I mean—he did not seem to be able to look you hard in the face—he is a man that I should not trust very far alone without keeping my eyes upon him—he appeared to be sober—he seemed very stolid—he was kneeling down over his wife when I first went in, and afterwards he put his head down on the table, and then he laid down on the floor—his shirt sleeves were turned up to the elbows at the time—the injuries to the arm were caused by its being raised, in self-defence in all probability.
Cross-examined. I came to the conclusion that the woman had been attacked while she was asleep—I had never seen the prisoner before
that morning, when I saw him for twenty minutes, and formed the opinion that he was non compos mentis, I cannot say direct insanity—I do not think he was responsible for what he was doing.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am surgeon of Newgate, in consequence of an intimation from the Solicitor of the Treasury I have paid particular attention to the behaviour of the prisoner and the state of his mind—I have seen him once every day, and lometimes oftener, since 25th July; he was then in a gloomy condition, and very taciturn—when spoken to he answered questions very slowly, with such a considerable pause that I asked him, in order to save time, to answer my questions quicker—it had no effect, however, upon him—I examined him from day to day, and found him in the same condition—I have had conversations with him about the deceased; he does not believe her dead, but that something is done to keep her away from here to give evidence against him—I am of opinion that he believes she is not dead—I think his non-belief arises from the state of his mind; that he has never realised that he inflicted the wounds that killed her—my conclusion is that he is of unsound mind, and has been so ever since I have had to do with him—it is quite impossible for me to say whether his weakness of mind has been of long standing or not—he has a mark on his neck from having attempted suicide—he told me he attempted suicide by cutting his throat—he also has scars on his chest from having burnt himself.
Cross-examined. I have been in Court, and have heard the evidence, and I think probably he was in such a condition as not to know what he was doing—I have had over twenty-six years' experience—I am unable to say whether his infirmity arises from drink—he remembered his attempting to commit suicide—he acknowledged that the woman was injured, and he remembered using the club, but he believed she was not injured sufficiently to account for her death.
By the COURT. There was a gloomy taciturn condition, and slowness in answering questions, and in his demeanour when speaking with others—I think he would be singled out by any one, without medical knowledge, as having something wrong with him—he casts his eyes on the ground.
JULIUS DAWE . I carry on business at Hammersmith, and am a brother of the prisoner—I have seen him about five times during the last year—he has been in a lunatic asylum for about five months—that was about 18 months ago—from the 24th December, 1879, until the 3rd April, 1880, he was in Wandsworth Lunatic Asylum, and before that he was in the lunatic ward of the Camberwell Workhouse—he has been very strange in his behaviour on many occasions—he has a cousin who is now in a lunatic asylum in Salisbury, I think, and also another cousin—my father was not of singular habits, but my grandfather was—he used to shut himself up in a room, and refuse to move out of it for months together, and was altogether very eccentric—the prisoner had a cousin named Wright who was in a lunatic asylum—I do not know the name of the place, but he was under Dr. Cockle—I believe the prisoner has five times tried to commit suicide—once about 23 years ago—he then bought a quantity of laudanum from different chemists, and took it—he attempted to commit suicide by cutting his throat—that was before he went to the Infirmary at Peckham, and that was the cause of his being taken there—I remember his stabbing himself in the left breast—I also remember his taking a
quantity of paraffin oil when we were living at Peckham, about two years ago—he was dangerously ill in consequence I believe—when he was at Camberwell he got inside the fender, and set fire to his shirt and caused several injuries, and he was wrapped up in oil and wool in consequence of the burns, when I went to see him at the Infirmary—at one time when he was living at Hammersmith, he shut himself up for three years—I have seen him apparently in his ordinary demeanour at one time, and then burst into a fit of temper and attack people—I remember his attacking my father some years ago, and rebelling against him very much—I do not know whether he intended to do him any bodily harm—I remember his purchasing a large quantity of pencils, and when he got a large store by him he burnt them—he was generally very silent under those circumstances—it was our belief that he was decidedly suffering from mania; 30 years ago I remember that being the impression of his father and sister, and more especially his poor mother.
Cross-examined. At times he was sober—he was a very sober man for three years together, and did not drink a drop of anything—he was all right then.
ARTHUR DAWE . I am a photographer, and am a brother of the prisoner—I have visited the prisoner since my return to the neighbourhood of London, a little over two years—he has during that time been twice in the Camberwell Lunatic Asylum, and once in Wandsworth—when I have seen him he has been sometimes silent, but sometimes cheerful—he seems very eccentric at times—there have been three of his relations similarly affected—I can speak of three attempts he has made to commit suicide—my sister was dreadfully frightened once when she found a letter in a box in the cupboard—she brought it to me, and said she was afraid he had gone and killed himself, but I traced him down the road, and found that at several shops he had bought laudanum—I found him in a bed, and I said "While mother is living don't do it"—I got him up, and walked him up and down the room for two hours—I think that was about 1856—he once attempted to stab himself with a small table knife under the breast, and they told me at home, another time, that he was in a fearful state upstairs, and they told me to go upstairs and attend to him—I found he had bought a bottle of rum, and had drunk it all, and had been taken in a fit, and some gentlemen brought him home—that was when we were living at Kensington—the paraffin oil I can only speak of from hearsay—I have never known him to raise his hand to a single member of his family, except on one occasion when he was under the influence of drink—he was very kind, and kind to animals—he has been so eccentric, that I should say it came to insanity.
Cross-examined. He has got his living by a little painting, but he has not been able to follow it with any real advantage to himself.
FREDERICK HENRY WARD . I am a surgeon, and am one of the surgeons to the Surrey County Lunatic Asylum at Wandsworth—I remember the prisoner being admitted to the asylum on 24th December, 1879—he was under my professional attendance until 3rd April, 1880—he had some delusions; he believed he had been charged with two crimes—he had a mark on his throat and several scars on his chest from recent bums—he was quiet and reserved generally—he was most decidedly of unsound mind—he improved very rapidly under my treatment—he was discharged after having been out three weeks, to see how he did at home, and he
was considered quite well—I think it would be rather difficult for me to give an opinion as to whether he was responsible for his actions or not when he committed this crime—I have not seen him lately—the prominent symptoms soon passed off—in drinking oases, the drink being removed, the disease very soon passes into abeyance, but it would be very apt to return again under the same influence.
Cross-examined. I should say that drink was the exciting cause of the insanity, but from what I have heard to-day I should say there was a predisposing cause, that it was hereditary.
NOT GUILTY on the ground of insanity .—Ordered to be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, August 5th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
On the evidence of MR. JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON, Surgeon to the gaol, the Jury found the prisoner of unsound mind and unfit to plead.— To be confined during Her Majesty's pleasure.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, August 5th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. STEWART WHITE Defended.
THOMAS BALL . I reside at Canning Town, near Victoria Docks—on 7th July, about 4 p.m., I was in Fenchurch Street; I was surrounded by four men, one on one side, one on the other, one in front, and one behind—the prisoner took my watch; I had an umbrella and a parcel, and the prisoner got away—I saw him two yards off, and had a good look at him before he came up—I gave information to the police—I afterwards went to the Guildhall, and picked the prisoner out from about five others; I had not the least difficulty in doing so.
Cross-examined. He was dressed in dark clothes and a hat—I described the one in front as being about five feet six or seven, and about 25 years of age; he had a nice sort of face—I was walking very leisurely to catch the 4.20 train; I was on the regular footway—I saw my watch safe a minute before.
Witness for the Defence.
prisoner worked for me the whole of the day to the best of my knowledge till 5.30.
Cross-examined. He came for work on the previous Monday—the 7th July was a Wednesday—he worked at five or six different places on that day because it was a roundabout job, whitewashing places for the parish—at 4 o'clock he would be in Grove Street whitewashing premises for the Board of Works—I had known him for about a month—I cannot tell you where he worked before—he only worked for me on that occasion.
GUILTY .He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in February, 1873.— Judgment Respited.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
JAMES ROBERT WALKER . I keep a clothier's shop at 305, Caledonian Road, Islington—on 14th July my house was fastened up perfectly safe when I went to bed at 11 o'clock—on getting up the next morning about 7 I found the back-parlour window wide open and the place upset; I missed several coats; these produced are my property—I communicated with the police—the value of this coat and waistcoat is 30s.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. This coat was made to measure by special order, that is how I can swear to it.
EDWARD LATTER . I am assistant to Mr. Day, a pawnbroker, of Copenhagen Street, Islington—I produced this coat and waistcoat to the police—the prisoner pledged them the morning after the burglary in the name of George Roberts, of 129, Bevington Street—he said he gave a guinea for the coat.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said they belonged to you, you asked me to put them in a drawer, but you did not say that you were pawning them for a young fellow.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a lighterman. I was going home from work about 8 in the morning when I met a young fellow I knew. We drank together, and he asked me to pawn these things, and I did it for him.
GUILTY .*He was also charged with a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in January, 1881, to which he pleaded
of the previous conviction.— Judgment Respited.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
GEORGE LLEWELLYN EDWARDS . I am a shoemaker, of 26, Newman Street—on the 6th July my bell was rung; when I came downstairs the prisoner was brought to me by a policeman—the shop was disturbed; nothing was taken—the catch of the window was broken, and the window let down—the house had been fastened up by myself and the servants—the window was shut.
saw the prisoner with Robert Ham; Ham had hold of. him, and said, "I give this man into custody for getting into a warehouse in Newman Passage"—I took him and went to the place—the window was broken, and partly down.
ROBRET HAM . I am a cabinet maker—on the 6th July I was at work in a shop in Newman Passage—about 1.30 a.m. I heard a report of a window breaking and went out to look—I saw a light; I went round to the front entrance; I kicked at the door; when I came back the light was put out—I went back to the shop where I work and put my hat on; when I came back there was a light again—I went to a door underneath the archway, I kicked there and rang a bell; the light was put out again—I went back to the shop and waited and watched—the prisoner came out of Mr. Edwards's shop door, opposite where I work—I ran after him and chased him up Newman Passage, Charlwood Street, and Greek Street—I apprehended him and handed him over to Police-constable 319—he asked me to let him go.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not catch hold of you in the doorway because I thought there were other men—I only saw you come out.
GUILTY.** He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in July, 1878, in the name Charles Ellis, at Marlborough Street,— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
THOMAS ROPER (City Policeman 925). On 5th July, about 11.45, I was in front of the Mansion House—I saw the prisoners pushing about in the crowd which was caused by the City of London Militia stopping to salute the Lord Mayor—I saw Moore place himself in front of a gentleman, and Cooper went and took something from his pocket—the gentleman moved on one side—I caught hold of Cooper's hand and took from it 2s.—I dragged him towards the gentleman, who was going away, and asked him if he had lost anything—he searched and found he had 2s. 1d., and said he had only about 3s. la. there—I took Cooper to the station—on the 8th July, about 7 o'clock, Moore was brought to Bishopsgate Street by Thick and Halse—I charged him with being concerned with others in stealing 2s. 1d.—he said he was in bed at 12 o'clock that day—I have no doubt Moore is the man, I had seen him before several times.
DANIEL HALSE (City Policeman 607). I was in front of the Mansion House on 5th July—I saw the prisoners go together towards the Poultry as the City Militia was passing—on the Friday evening I saw Moore standing with others in George Street, Spitalfields; I said "I am a police-officer, I shall take you into custody for stealing 2s. 1d. from a gentleman's pocket last Tuesday"—he said "I was not out of bed till 12 o'clock"—I said "I saw you at 11.30"—I took him to the station and he was identified.
Cross-examined by Moore. I went and spoke to another constable in case you turned up rough—he did not point at you.
Moore and Cooper in Commercial Street, Spitalfields, together, about 10 a.m., going towards the City—I saw Moore afterwards.
Cross-examined by Moore. I saw you at noon—you said to the other officer "You have got this up for me"—I did not say "You ought to have been put away long enough ago."
Witness for Moore.
ROBERT COOPER (the prisoner). I was not in your company the morning of this robbery—the constable said when he took me "I wish I had another man, I would have the curly-headed man"—that man is as innocent as a child unborn, and you know it.
Moore. I know nothing about it.
MOORE— GUILTY .** He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in May, 1878, at this Court— Five Years' Penal Servitude. COOPER—was further charged with a conviction on 20th February, 1871, at Clerkenwell, to which he
PLEADED NOT GUILTY.
GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. BOURNES defended Clarke;MR. GEOGHEGAN
THOMAS JOHN WHITTON . I am a Birmingham warehouseman—I have warehouses at 12, 13, and 14, St. John's Lane, Clerkenwell—on 24th June, a few minutes to 8 o'clock, I left the warehouse and locked the door we usually lock when we leave—I left my brother there—at 4 o'clock next morning I was called by the police—I went to the warehouse—I found the police in possession—I went in—I found this iron wedge sticking in one of the safes, and marks of two others—I opened the safe—it had been tampered with but nothing was gone—this was in No. 12, the corner house—I went into No. 14—I found the lavatory window fastening broken—it works on a swivel put on to the roof adjoining outside—when we opened the warehouse for business the porter drew my attention to a side window in Albion Place, and to this gimlet which was put into the shutter, and this string was fastened to an iron gas pipe at the side. (The witness here explained a plan of the premises which was produced.) The shutter had been forced away, and this plate was forced from the shutter and left in the window that slid up and down; the window was open—all these things were found on our premises. (A lamp and other articles,)
SAMUEL HAYNES . I live at 30, St. John's Lane, Clerkenwell—I am a fancy box worker—about 2 a.m. on 25th June I got out of bed and looked into St. John's Lane—I saw two men; one went to a door—a policeman came round on his beat and told them to move on—they were standing about the middle of Albion Place, near a lamp—I called my brother—he went to my father, who got his things on—we came down, got a pair of steps, and watched out of the fanlight—when
the policeman came round on his beat we told him what we had seen—I went after more police—when they came my father got a lamp—somebody went up a ladder—they walked along the leads and tried to open the windows; at last one policeman broke a window and entered the place—he came out with these tools—I recognise Lamb, he was the last that entered the place—I went after him; I and my brother caught him—I was 20 yards from the two men when I saw them.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was 20 yards away and up in a window 30 feet high—I know Lamb by his coat and hat.
JAMES HAYNES . I was called by my brother—I called my father because I saw two men go into Mr. Whitton's, opposite—I was about 20 yards away, looking from my bedroom window on the third floor—I afterwards went out into the street—I and my brother gave information to the police—I went back to the warehouse—I stopped opposite it—I saw one man come out—I followed him—I did not catch him, but I saw two men run down Albion Place, when I heard my brother call out—I caught Lamb.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I caught him at the corner of White Horse Alley—there was a man who ran in front of him I could not catch.
ANTHONY BELLOTTI . I live at No. 8, Prince's Court—betweet 2 and 3 o'clock on the 25th I was awakened by the screams of two of my children—I ran out in my shirt on to the roof—I saw some men on the roof—I called to them to stop—they took no notice—two, made their escape—Clarke remained—I saw a jemmy; I took it in my hand and told him if he attempted to move I would hit him on the head with it—he made no attempt to escape—I was six or seven minutes calling for the police—Clarke said "Don't make so much noise, I am going to help you to catch the other two."
Cross-examined by MR. BOURNIE. Clarke did not stop when I called—the jemmy was lying on the wall—I said before the Magistrate that I stopped till the policeman came—I did so—I was not holding Clarke; he was sitting on the wall—the wall was about 20 feet high at the back of No. 10—I should say the other two men went through the window; I saw one go downstairs; the other I did not catch sight of—my window opens on to the roof—I have never been called Cook—I work at 5, Paradise Street, Curtain Road.
Re-examined. I saw one man go into the back of No. 10, Albion Place—that was over the wall—I am not sure which way the third went—my children were excited; it was Clarke I threatened—he remained there the police came.
JOHN MCCARTHY .(policeman G 299). On the 25th June, about 1 a.m., I was in St. John's Lane—in consequence of what Mr. Haynes, of the puplic-house, said, I went round the back into Prince's Court; I heard the screams of children; I opened the door; I saw Bellotti in his shirt; from what he said I got out on the roof—I saw Clarke on the roof; he had this stick in his hand; I said "I have you now," and I caught hold of him—Bellotti said "This is what I found on the wall" (the jemmy)—Clarke said "You have made a mistake; I only came up here because I heard there were burglars, to see if I could catch them"—I got him through the window and the room where the children were sleeping, took him downstairs, and gave him into the custody of Police-constable 303—I
ran down St. John's Lane, and saw Lamb in the custody of 309—I walked with them to the station—I afterwards examined the prosecutor's premises; I saw one jemmy or wedge knocked into the safe, and a lot of things pulled about, and a bit of string tied to the gas pipe.
Cross-examined by MR. BOURNIE. Bellotti's door was closed; I pushed it open and saw him on the window ledge and one foot on the roof standing in his shirt—Clarke was standing with a stick as if he was lame—no one was holding him—I showed Clarke the jemmy, and he said "I know nothing about it."
BENJAMIN DIMOND (Policeman G 282). I received information, and went to the prosecutor's premises—I tried to force the front door; eventually I broke a first-floor window and got upon the premises and searched them—I came across these tools; these three wedges were in the safe—I went through the window of No. 14 on the leads, which lead to Bellotti's back window or to the window of 11, Albion Place—I saw footmarks on the leads and traced them from the back window over the roof to the corner of the wall leading to the back window of No. 10, Albion Place.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I know nothing of Lamb.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I said that at the police-court-Lamb. slipped down when I caught him.
ARTHUR MAT . About 2.30 a.m. on June 25th I was on duty in Clerken well—in consequence of what I heard I ran to this place and tried the windows—as I stood at No. 12 I saw Lamb run out of No. 10 down Albion Place and the two young Mr. Haynes running after him—I went to. No. 10; I saw Clarke on the roof of No. 12—as soon as he saw me he bobbed—I said "Look out, mate; there's another one on the top"—I went to the back and saw Clarke in custody of 299.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have been in the force five years—this is my first case of burglary—I told Inspector Peel of it the second day after the prisoners were remanded—I was at the police-court, but was not called.
GUILTY .It was stated that Clarke had been previously convicted, and that he was known as Cook, an expert burglar.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. H. AVORY Defended.
ALFRED ANDREWS . I am coachman to Mr. Eoper, of West Street, Chichester—I was at Aldridge's on 6th July—a man came and spoke to me in the prisoner's hearing, and said "Do you know the conditions of these sales?"—I said "I do not"—he said "I sent my man up with a horse; I have had bad luck; the man was too late for the sale; I shall either have to send it down or keep it till the next sale"—he said he had been using it in a van—I said I did not want to buy a horse, but would look at it presently—afterwards the prisoner came up and said "I have been trying to buy him, but he wanted 2l. commission, as I am buying for another man; I should like to have the horse; would you be kind enough to buy him; the horse is worth 30l. to me; I will
give you 24l."—he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handful of coin—he said "I will go round with you"—I went round and he followed me; he said "Do not have the horse out; I know all about him"—I went and looked at the horse—there was a new piece of wood on the stable door—the horse was not bad to look at, and I thought about worth the money as he stood; the prisoner stood behind the door; I stepped across the road, and the man asked me 24l.; I offered him 20l.; at last we bargained for 21l., and I paid him two 10l. notes and a sovereign—I ran after the one I paid the money to, and caught hold of him; he came back to the stable door, but tried to move away; I held his coat; he moved two or three yards round the corner; a crowd gathered, freed him, and stole my watch, chain, and pin—on 16th July I saw the prisoner at Aldridge's under one of the bidding boxes, and I told the detective and he apprehended him—I took the horse to the police-station—I sold him to a costermonger for 3l.; he was a complete roarer.
Cross-examined. I had been at Aldridge's before—I had never seen the prisoner nor the other man before—the prisoner told me I could buy the horse as cheap as I liked and he would give me 24l. for it—I did not want the horse; I bought it to make a profit—I did not speak to the prisoner before I gave him in custody.
WILLIAM PUGSLEY (Police Sergeant). The prisoner was pointed out to me on the 16th July—I said to him "I am a police sergeant, and I have a warrant for your arrest, charging you with obtaining 21l. by fraud on Wednesday last at Newport Market"—he said "I do not know where Newport Market is"—at the station X read the warrant to him; he said nothing.
Cross-examined. Newport Market is within a stone's throw of Aldridge's'—the prisoner gave me his correct address at a common lodging-house.
RICHARD LOCKER . I live at 13, Princes Row; my father has a stable there; it is in Newport Market—my father put a piece of new board on the door—on the 6th July a man asked where he could put a horse in—it was put in the stable; it was there four hours—I do not know who took it away—I was paid 1s. for letting it stop there.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. STEWART WHITE Defended.
DAVID HOHN . I am a clerk in the Foreign Art Pottery Company, 22, Hatton Wall, Holborn—I live there—on the 11th July I closed the premises and made them all fast—about 3 the next morning I heard voices downstairs; afterwards I heard steps, and some one came to try the door; it was locked and the key in the door—they ran downstairs, and I behind them—I called a policeman—we looked over the house, but could not find them—I afterwards looked into the closet; the window was open.
Cross-examined. It is a swing window; it only opens half part—I think it was shut that night.
JANE TABLEMAN . I live at 32, Clerkenwell Green—on the 12th July, about 3 a.m., I was going along Hatton Hall to my sister, who was ill, and had sent for me—I heard a shout for police—I saw John Nutley run out of a door and a policeman catch him—it was next door to a public-house; it was not occupied.
Cross-examined. The unoccupied house is in Hatton Garden, not the same street—he was sober.
GEORGE GOULD (Policeman G 249). About 2.40 a.m. on 12th July I was on duty in Hatton Garden—I saw the prisoner come out of 64 with another one; he ran and I pursued him along Hatton Garden down Cross Street into Clerkenwell Road, where I came up with him—he was taken back to 64; the door was open.
Cross-examined. He was perfectly sober.
JAMES LEONARD (Policeman G 18). About 2.45 a.m. on 12th July I was in Hatton Garden—I saw the last witness running after the prisoner; he caught him; the prisoner seemed to be exhausted; he was dressed as he is now without a hat—I searched the prosecutor's premises; I found some marks on the wall leading to the closet window, and also the tiles of the roof of the closet were broken—this hat was lying underneath the wood in the yard—I asked the prisoner if he knew the hat; he said "Yes, that is my hat," and snatched it out of my hands—the unoccupied house abuts on the prosecutor's garden wall.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, August 6th, 1881.
Before Mr. Justice Grove.
MR. SMYTHIES Prosecuted; MR. HOLLAND Defended.
MALCOLM ANSTEY RAFFERTY . I am clerk to the Master of the City of London Workhouse at Holloway—the prisoner and his wife were inmates of that workhouse—on the 17th July, about 10 minutes to 3 in the afternoon, I heard cries proceeding from the laundry drying ground—I went to the ground and saw the prisoner's wife coming from the water-closet with blood pouring from a hole in her throat—the prisoner was about three yards behind her, running after her with this knife in his hand—I took it from him—the master, Mr. Hawes, was behind me—the prisoner was in an excited state—he said "I meant to do for her"—that was about five minutes afterwards—he was still excited when he said that—I sent for a police constable—the prisoner attempted to strike me with his boot—he has been in the house about two years, and during that time I have seen him several times daily, I have been there very nearly two years myself—his conduct has been quiet and well-behaved with the exception of a very jealous feeling towards his wife.
Cross-examined. When he came out of the water-closet I secured him—I had a small struggle with him—I did not knock him down—he did not fall—he made the statement "I meant to do for her" after I had secured him—he was not drunk—during the two years I have known him, although well behaved, he has talked incoherently about his wife; he accuses her of adultery with me and other officials—she is an old woman of 42—there is not the slightest ground for such suspicion—the men and women do not mix in the workhouse—the prisoner has not been in the infirmary to my knowledge; he is blind with one eye—the dinner is at 1 o'clock—I believe that is one of the knives they use at dinner, but it has been ground off to this shape—the prisoner was employed in
carrying coal about the house, and his wife in the washhouse—the water-closets are on the same level as the dining-room, but out in the open air—I said before the Magistrate that he was talking incoherently—that expression was the only one I could catch—I can swear he said he meant to do for her, not for it—he was undressing himself at the time he struck me, and had his boot off.
Re-examined. I could catch that he was talking about his wife, but I could not understand what he said; he talked aloud—the inmates of the work-house are allowed to go outside at stated times, and it would be possible for the men and women to meet one another at different times—he would have an opportunity of seeing his wife at different times, in carrying coals about the house—the men's and women's water-closets are on different sides of the house—this was the women's water-closet—he went to visit his wife, which he was allowed to do on Sunday afternoon.
ANN HUGHES . I am the prisoner's wife—up till lately I resided with him at the City of London Workhouse—on Sunday afternoon, 17th July, I was upstairs in my bedroom making my drop of tea—he came up on the landing, called me out to him, and asked me to go down the garden, and I said I would go—I went downstairs and along the passage, I happened to go into the water-closet, and he rushed after me directly and stabbed me on the left side, and a little place on this side, and I know no more after that—I had no words with him—I also had a wound on my little finger—I went to the infirmary—he has threatened me several times on former occasions—I have been married to him two yean—he began twelve months after our marriage with his fooleries and stupid ness, saying I was after the men; I never was—he has been threatening me for the last twelve months.
Cross-examined. I did not believe in these threats, or that he would do such a thing—I should not have gone with him if I had thought he was going to kill me, or to try to—the master was in the garden when I went into the water-closet—the prisoner could not see the master before I went in—I have been in the workhouse a long time, because of my sight—he came and visited me in the workhouse—I said before the Magistrate that I did not think he was fit to be at large, and that he had been in an odd state for about a year—that is true—he has been kind to me with that exception.
JAMES DAVISON . I am a surgeon, and live at No. 8, Oxford Terrace, Upper Holloway—on 17th July I was called to the City of London Workhouse—I found the last witness there suffering from a wound in the left side of the neck about two inches in length and three quarters of an inch in depth—it was near the carotid artery, and was dangerous from that proximity—she had lost a great quantity of blood—I dressed the wound—it was of such a nature as could have teen inflicted by this knife—I saw the prisoner afterwards in the custody of the police; he was in a state of very great excitement—I only noticed the one wound.
AMOS CRANE (Policeman Y 522). I was called to the City of London Workhouse on 17th July last, about 4 in the afternoon—the prisoner was given into my custody—on the way to the police-station he said "I meant to do for her, as she is a bad woman"—I am quite clear that was what he said—he seemed a little excited when he made that statement, not a great deal. The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I found my wife
guilty two or three times with the clerk, and I complained to the master and asked him to turn him out of my way. On Sunday afternoon she brought a man, and a woman came and made me a sign that I ought to cut her head off. I went to the bedroom and saw her. She thought I was going to make free with her. She went into the yard, and I followed her. I pulled the knife out of my pocket and hit her with it, and her fancy man, the clerk, came at once and knocked me down."
NOT GUILTY on the ground of insanity .— To be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, August 6th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
726. CHARLES MATTHEWS (40), WILLIAM SEARES (34), CHARLES SMITH (20), GEORGE LEONARD (36), and THERESA WILLIAMS (30) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edward Lukin, and stealing a coffee-pot and other articles. Other Counts for feloniously receiving the same.
MESSRS. CROOME and RAVEN Prosecuted; MR. EDWARD CLARKE, Q.C., defended Leonard, and MESSRS. T. COLE and STEWART WHITE the other Prisoners.
EDWARD LUKIN . I live at View House, Sunbury, and am a dentist—my drawing-room opens on to a verandah, and there is a lawn which goes down to the river—on 21st April, at 6 a.m., I discovered that my house had been broken into—I had gone over it before going to bed, and I believe all the windows and doors were fastened—I found the drawing-room window broken open—this gun is mine, I left it in the dining-room the night before the burglary; it cost 35 guineas new—my initials were on the case somewhere, but they are not here now—it was locked, the lock is now broken—I also missed a coffee-pot and card-case—these (produced) are them—I also missed an umbrella and two coats.
SARAH ROGERS . I am Mr. Lukin's servant—on 21st April I went to bed at a quarter to 12; I bolted the street door and put the chain on—the doors leading into the verandah were both shut—I came down next morning at a quarter to 6, and missed a tea-pot from the dining-room—I called the nurse, and we went into the drawing-room, but did not miss anything till Mr. Lukin came down—the door was open.
JOHN MULVANEY (Police Inspector). On 11th April I examined Mr. Lukin's house, and found that an entry had been made through the drawing-room window, and the drawing-room door had been forced from the inside—on 5th May, after Seares's arrest, I found this; screwdriver in a cupboard in his house; I compared it with the marks on some cabinets in Mr. Lukin's house, which were broken open, and they corresponded.
Arms, Hackney, and saw Matthews and Williams drive up—Salter, who had been introduced to me about an hour before, said, "Here is a flyman who will do any business," speaking of Matthews—I went into the house and had some beer with Matthews, Williams, and a little girl—I told Matthews I was a commission agent, and sold him some beer—he gave his address, Clyde House, Ealing Lane—I went there on the Saturday previous to Bank Holiday and again on Bank Holiday with my son Henry, who remained during the interview—Williams said to Matthews, "Perhaps he can tell you where to get rid of any stuff," and Matthews said, "Do you know where to get rid of any stuff?"—I said "What sort of stuff is it?"—he said, "Silver," and Williams went into the front room and produced three silver spoons and three forks marked with a leopard's head—I told them I could get a buyer—he said, "They are part of 16lb. of silver which I have hidden on my form, but my chaps expect another crack in a few days, can you get a buyer?"—I said, "Yes," and on the following evening I called again, and Matthews said, "Have you been to London to get the buyer?"—I said,;"No; but I will go to-morrow"—Williams was present—I called again next evening (Wednesday), saw them both, and told them I had seen a buyer, and he would give 3s. an ounce for small quantities, and 3s. 2d. for large quantities, and Matthews told me to make arrangements with him, as he expected a big quantity in a few days—I saw him and Williams there every day, till Monday, the 25th, when he said, "Frizzy and Smith have done another crack, will you introduce the buyer?"—Frizzy is Sepsis—I said, "Yes; but he cannot come down, till Wednesday evening"—I went again on Wednesday morning and saw them both—Matthews said, "I and my mistress, will be down and see what Frizzy and Smith have got"—I called three times that evening and saw them—Matthews said, "Has the buyer been?"—I said, "Yes; I have to let him know what you have got"—he said, "I have brought nothing away with me, but Frizzy has got a splendid service of plate and a valuable gun," and he said to Williams, "Tell him what sort of a cruet-stand it is"—she described it as a very large one, and said that she had seen a smaller one sold at a sale for 35s.—I asked if there was any mark on it—Matthews said, "A crest, a bird or something like it; Frizzy and his pal got from the same house a valuable double-barrelled breechloader gun"—I asked if he knew the maker's name; he said, "No"—I promised to get the buyer down, and next day I wrote to Inspector Wildey—I saw Rolfe on 29th April, and next morning (Saturday) I again called, and saw Matthews and Williams—I told Matthews I was going up to town to see the buyer—he said, "Let me know positively in the evening what day the buyer will come down, and I will fetch the things"—I called again at 6.30, and told Matthews that the buyer would be certain to be down the following evening—he said to his son Samuel, "Go and put the horse in the trap"—Williams said, "Never mind, there is plenty of time, go to-morrow morning"—Matthews said, "I shall have Frizzy and Smith up on Sunday to see that it all goes right with the buyer; this is one of the cleanest jobs I ever knew; Frizzy and Smith rowed Up in a boat, and crossed the lawn, and the window was left all right for them by the servant; I have known Frizzy and Smith a long time; they worked both sides of the river for me, Chertsey, Kingston, Sunbury, and Hampton; I fetched Frizzy home from prison last August, where he had been for
18 months for assaulting a farmer"—when I got home I found this telegram. (From Inspector Wildey, putting off the buyer's visit to Monday.) That was so that I should get an opportunity of seeing the goods—on Sunday I wrote a note and sent my son with it to Matthews, and in the evening, at 6 o'clock, I went to Matthews's house and saw him and Williams, Frizzy, and Smith in a cart close to the house; the horse's head was towards Brentford—on the Monday morning I went again, and saw Williams and Matthews—Matthews showed me this plated coffee-pot and teapot (produced)—he pointed out the crest, and said he was sorry he had not brought the gun, but Frizzy and Smith had borrowed 2l. on it from a farmer, who put them up to the job, and I was to bring the buyer down—I went to town and repeated the statement to Inspector Wildey—I met Rolfe that evening by appointment at Ealing Railway Station and went with him to Matthews's house; we got there about 7.30, went into the kitchen, and saw Williams; I introduced Sergeant Rolfe to her as Mr. Moss, the buyer of stolen plate, from London—she produced weights and scales and these four silver spoons, three silver forks, plated teapot, and silver card-case (produced) from a front room; Rolfe weighed the silver in her presence, it weighed nine ounces—she removed them from the table and put them under the dresser, and covered them over-Rolfe said "Where do these things come from?"—she said, "A little way up the river, near Hampton; other things came with them; a cruet-stand, which was sold to a lady for 2l., and a valuable gun"—she then pulled this mourning ring off her finger and said that it was stolen with a big lot of silver; it had on it an inscription, "Marion Priestley, born 29th December," &c.—she asked Rolfe to give her a price for it—he offered her 1l. and she put it on her finger again—she said that Frizzy and Smith were two stars, and gave me a description of several burglaries, and about 9 o'clock Matthews came in, and said, "I am sorry to have kept you gentlemen waiting, but I have been to Acton to buy a horse—I said "This is the gentleman who will buy this property," pointing to Rolfe—Matthews said to Rolfe, "Have you seen the silver?"—Williams said, "Yes; he has seen it"—it was again produced by Matthews, and again weighed by Eolfe, and Matthews said, "How much will you give for it?"—Rolfe said, "I cannot be buyer and seller, what do you want?"—Matthews said, "3s. 2d. per ounce"—Rolfe said, "I cannot afford to give you that price for small quantities, as I have had to come a long way from London," and he offered 3s., which Matthews accepted, and Rolfe paid him 1l. 7s.—the silver coffee-pot and teapot were then produced, and Matthews said, "What about these things?"—Rolfe said, "What do you want for them?" and Matthews said, "30s."—Rolfe said, "I cannot afford to give you that, I cannot put them in a shop window, or show them, on account of the crest," and he offered him 10s.—Matthews said he could not take that—Rolfe offered him 12s., and he took it and said to his son, "I shall call you to prove that I have only received 12s. for them, as Frizzy will not be satisfied"—Rolfe said, "Have you got any other property?"—Matthews said, "I shall have a very handsome double-barrelled gun to-morrow, but Frizzy and Smith have borrowed 2l. on it from a farmer who knew the gun, and would like to have it, but it is too near, as he lives within two miles of where the gun was took; I wish I had known you a few weeks ago, it would have been another horse, or quite 20l. in my pocket; I have 16lb. some
odd ounces of solid silver with these spoons and forks; me and Frizzy were driving about for two days in my horse and cart trying to sell the silver, but we could not get a customer; at last we sold it at Hounslow for 18l.; while Frizzy and Smith were going away with the big lot of silver they dropped a pair of boots in a ditch which was full of water, and I believe they are there to this day"—he also said Frizzy and Smith broke into a jeweller's shop, and got a good many watches, and I got one for my son Sam from Frizzy last Sunday, and paid him 10s. for it—Rolfe was present during the whole of that conversation—it was then arranged between us that I was to see Matthews on his farm on Wednesday morning, and he was to go and fetch the gun—he left with his son, they went to the station, and I remained, and Matthews paid me 6d., which he said was all he could afford out of this little lot, but I was to have 1l. 1s. out of the gun, and there was a bigger lot coming on—I went to the farm on Wednesday, 4th May, and asked Matthews about the gun—he said, "I am sorry I have not got it, I was not home till 12; I offered the farmer 2l., and he would not take it, so I offered him 3l., but he said he would not take 20l. for it now, as I intend sending it to London to have the number altered from hundreds to thousands"—I asked him if he knew the maker's name; he said, "No; but it was in a leather case," and he gave me the particulars of another crib to be cracked, as he described it, next Sunday at 10, and I was to make arrangements with the buyer to take the proceeds, out of which I was to have 10l.—I communicated with Inspector Wildey, and went with him and Jones and Rolfe the same afternoon and saw them arrested at Matthews's house.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. Mr. Salter and Mr. Chandler may be here; I did not see either of them at the police-court—Salter introduced me to Matthews—I had only known Salter an hour and a half or two hours—Chandler introduced him to me—I had known Chandler some months, and have known his relations by marriage some years—I understood that Matthews and Williams were man and wife—Matthews's house is in Ealing Lane, eight or nine miles from Sunbury—I have lived at Han well since October—I change about a good deal; I sometimes go to the United States—my name is Matthew Henry Burridge Burnside, and I have many other names; I might change my name before I get home to-night—to give you the whole of my names I hope you have got a double sheet of foolscap paper—I have been in the House of Detention, the same as some of your clients have—I was innocent—I was charged with embezzlement, and Mr. Glossop, the Magistrate, said that it was a case for the County Court—for the last four months I have done nothing—I was in business as a commission agent at Hanwell four months ago, selling beer for the White Horse Brewery, Shepherd's Bush, kept by James Cowley; I may have been there a month—I did not walk off with any of his money; I never walked off with anybody's money—I know what you are trying to get at; if I owe money, it is a question of debt—I knew Sergeant Rolfe 12 months ago; he had me in custody—I first heard of this matter from a person named Uzeley; he is not here—I have received no reward from the police, and I expect none; I considered it my duty to take this case up on public grounds—my age is 34—I have been married 13 yean—I have received no money for the last four months; I have lived on money of my own—I have not received a penny from the police—I earned the
money I have been living on—I went on 19th April to Detective Cousins—I went perhaps 10 or 20 times to Matthews's house—my son is 12 years old—he went there twice, I took him once, and sent him once.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have passed by the names of Smith, Brown, Bailey, Blake, Jones, and it is impossible to say how many more—Purdon is one—I do not remember Perry—I have not received money from any source during the last four months—I had money at home, and my credit was good—I acted as agent for Mr. Cowley between September and April last, under the name of Purdon, and was acting at the same time as agent for Mr. Lacey under the name of Burnside—I received money on behalf of Mr. Cowley, and have paid him some, and I should not reckon there is 1l. between us—I received 24s. from Matthews for Mr. Cowley; I have not paid him the whole of it; there is a difference between us, and I have not paid it—I also received money on behalf of Mr. Macey, and have not paid in all the amount—as late as April last I received money from Mr. Coupal, and have not paid it, and do not intend to—it was about 10 guineas—I was in the employ of Pollaky Brothers many years ago in the name of Burnside—I did not abscond with 200l.; I don't know how much it was, it is 17 years ago—I don't know whether my friends paid it, and I think the less Mr. Pollaky says about it the better—I was also at Mr. Batty's, Finsbury Pavement; they charged me at Guildhall with embezzlement, and I had 12 months' imprisonment—I have been married 13 years, and it was some years before that—I was twice in the employ of Taylor and Simms, of Water Lane—I was never discharged for embezzlement; I discharged myself, and on the first occasion I got a situation from them—I had not money of theirs in my possession—I went into business, and obtained goods of Holborn and Son, of Mincing Lane, and paid for them all—I did not obtain money or goods from Whitear, of Water Lane—I gave Mr. Whitear a cheque for 10?. on the Metropolitan Bank, signed M. H. Burnside," which I fully believe was paid; if it was dishonoured I do not know it—in 1877 I made an agreement to unload the Ravenhill, and received 10l. on account—I worked the vessel on Saturday and Monday, and then threw it up on account of a dispute with the firm—I was then living in Hack Street; I owed money to Mr. Beecher, of Blount Street, and paid him—I may have told him I was obliged to keep out of the way because there were two writs out against me in respect of the Ravenhill—this (produced?) is my writing—there were no writs issued against me, but I thought there were, and kept out of the way and did not come home till dark, but those are simply disputed accounts; I fully expected all this—I employed a man named Mahoney to unload the Emma Lawson; I owe him from 35/. to 45/., but the firm has never paid me—I put down in a book the conversations I hate given you to-day, it is at home; I produced it at the police-court—I left it at home because it got very much damaged—I walked to Sunbury one day and cut the covers off, and last night I tore a leaf out.
Re-examined. I wrote down each conversation as it occurred—when I was charged with embezzlement the Magistrate said that it was a case of debt, and I was discharged immediately—there are outstanding accounts of 1l. or 1l. 10s. between me and Mr. Cowley.
at the railway station, and went straight with him to Matthews's house—we got there about 7.30, and Burridge introduced me to Williams at Mr. Moss from London, a buyer of stolen property—she asked us into the kitchen, and then went into the front room and brought the forks, spoons, card case, coffee-pot, and teapot, and got some scales and weights, and I weighed them; the weight was 9oz.—she then put them under the dresser, and covered them over—I asked her where they came from; she said "A little way up the river, near Hampton"—she said that a very handsome plated cruet-stand came with the goods, and it had been sold to a lady for 2l., and that there was a gun as well—she took a ring off her finger, and asked me if it was worth 1.2.; I said "Yes, but not to me," and she put it on her finger again—Matthews then came in, and said "I am sorry, gentlemen, to keep you waiting; I have been to Acton to buy a horse"—Burridge said "This is the gentleman from London I was speaking to you about, has the gentleman seen the things?" Williams said "Yes"—he then weighed them, and asked me what I was going to give; I said "I can't be buyer and seller"—he asked 3s. 2d. an ounce; I offered him 3s., which he took, and said that he would make a better bargain next time—I paid him, and took the things—he said "What about the coffee-pot and teapot?" I said "They have a crest on them and they are not silver, what do you want for them?"—he said "The man that stole them says they are worth 30s.;"I said "Not to me, 10s. is my price"—he refused—I said "I will spring another 2s.;"he accepted it, and said to his son "You see that I have only got, 12s. for these things; Frizzy will be not be satisfied with the price; I shall call you as a witness that I only received 12s. for them"—I asked if he had got any other things; he said "Nothing to-day, I shall have a very handsome double-barrelled gun to-morrow, which came with the plated goods. Frizzy and Smith have borrowed 2l. on it of a farmer about two miles from where it was stolen, but I will get it back, and you shall have it to-morrow; I wish I had known you before, I reckon it would be a horse in my pocket"—I said "How do you make that out?" he said "When we had the stuff first I had 16lb. of silver besides what you have got, and I sold a lot for 18l. to a man at Hounslow, and that is 20l. out of my pocket, and I reckon that as a horse"—I said that I was sorry; he said that when the stuff was first got it was sent to his farm, and buried under a mangold wortzel machine, and that there was a gun with the first lot of silver, which he had sold for 30s. to a friend of his—I took the silver and the coffee and teapot, and went back to the station and gave them to my superior officer—Matthews said that when Frizzy committed—one of the burglaries a pair of boots fell into the water, and had been left there up to that day—on 4th May I went to Matthews's house again with Wildey and Jones, and Matthews and Williams were arrested—I afterwards took Smith in a public-house at Sunbury—he went quiet for half a mile, and then became very violent—he had a dog with him—I had to use a life-preserver to get him to the station—I searched him, and found this knife and silver watch, No. 69,985, and chain (produced).
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I did not employ Burridge's son in any way—I was never in the neighbourhood before—I find since that Matthews and Williams lived together as man and wife—I saw a marriage certificate, but did not make a copy of it—another officer,
Brown, was with us; he lives 150 yards from where the struggle occurred—he did not want Smith to go to his house, nor were we on the way there—we had just turned to the right to go to the station, and Brown's is in the opposite direction—Smith did not mention Brown's house—I knocked him about with a life-preserver which I carry for burglars—I have not got it here; it is loaded with lead—Wildey also had a life-preserver; he hit the dog with it, but I do not think he hit Smith—the other officers had no life-preservers or sticks—Smith was so knocked about that blood was streaming from him—I saw one wound, and it would have been dressed at the station if he desired it—I asked him if he would like to see the doctor.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I took a note of the conversation—I have been in the force six years—I had Burridge in custody in April, 1880, at Bethnal Green Police-station, for fraud and embezzlement from Gammon, Son, and Carter, and Wright and Lawson—he was tried at the Sessions, and made a witness against the other prisoners, and then bound over to come up—he was also apprehended at Acton six months ago on a warrant, and I did not see him after that till he began to help me in this case—I did not seek him out to do so; he came to me—we have given him a little money—I saw Mr. Wildey give him a half-sovereign one day.
HENRY BURRIDGE . I live with my father, the former witness, at Hanwell—I went with him on Easter Monday to Matthews's house, and saw him and Williams and two other of the prisoners, and some silver spoons and forks were shown us—on Sunday, 1st May, I took a telegram and a note from my father to Matthews's house—I saw him and Williams and the same two men—I do not know their names; those are the men (Seares and Smith); they were having tea—Williams read the note and telegram aloud, and Matthews said to one of the men "Do you think it would be a good thing if we got these things into the country a little way?"—the tallest of the two men said "Ah"—I then left the house.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I go to school—I have never lived away from my father's house—I gave evidence at the police-court—my father has not spoken to me about this case; not a word.
JOHN DURRANT (Policeman T 161). On 3rd May I was near Mr. Gear's House, Feltham Hall, Sunbury, just after 10 p.m.—I saw Matthews come out of Seares's house, get into his cart, and drive away—I wished him good night as he passed me—I knew Seares and Matthews before—after he had gone Seares and Smith came out at the door and wished each other good night, and Smith said "Good night, constable"—I said "Good night"—he walked away—he lives about a quarter of a mile from Seares—only Seares and his wife lived in that house to my knowledge.
RICHARD WILDEY (Police Inspector K). I gave Rolfe some instructions, and on 2nd May he handed me these articles, all except the ring—on 4th May, about 5 o'clock, I went with Jones and Rolfe to Matthews's house at Ealing, and saw him and Williams—he was lying on a couch—I said "We are two police inspectors, and this is one of my sergeants," pointing to Rolfe; "we are going to take you in custody for receiving these things that he bought of you"—he said "I aren't well; I can't move"—I remained some few minutes trying to get him up, and he said "I
did not get a halfpenny or a farthing out of it; my missus don't know nothing about it, and if you lock her up you won't find out where the things came from"—they were both taken to Brentford Station and charged, and Matthews made a statement to Jones which I had taken down—I was present when Smith was apprehended on the Staines Road—he was taken to Sunbury Station, and afterwards to Brentford in a cab—we got there about 1 a.m.—Matthews was brought out of the cell and confronted with him, and Inspector Jones said to Matthews "Is this the Charlie Smith you referred to in your statement?"—he said "Yes; that is the man that brought the things to my house"—I said to Smith "You hear what he says; are you the man who brought the things to his house?"—he said "Matthews did not say so"—I then had him brought back, and he repeated the statement—Smith made no reply—I saw Seares in custody at Brentford Station; he is known as Frizzy—I had Matthews and Williams brought out of their cells and confronted with him—I said "Do you know this man?"—Matthews said "Yes, that is Frizzy; he is the man who brought the stuff to my house"—Williams said "I was lying on the couch and saw him go by the window," meaning Seares; she afterwards said "That is the man who brought the stuff"—Seares made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I had no life-preserver or stick; Sergeant Rolfe had a life-preserver—I don't know the neighbourhood—Inspector Jones went to Brown's house and called for him—I did not hear Smith say, "You can take me to the station, but I won't go to Brown's house;" but I heard that those words were used—Jones and Smith were fifty yards from me.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have given Burridge something like 3l. altogether, a half-sovereign now and then; there was no arrangement for his payment—I saw an advertisement of Mr. Lukin's, stating that parties would be rewarded—I went to Leonard's house, and heard him say, "I have got the gun"—it was handed over to Jones—when we were taking it away Leonard said, "How am I going on about my 2l.?" I don't know what Jones said—I heard Jones ask him to be at the Petty Sessions at Brentford the next morning, and he came—he was called into Court by Jones, who arrested him, and he was remanded without bail from time to time until the prisoners were committed for trial—I know that bail to any amount was offered, but the Magistrate refused it—I do not know whether an application was made to a Judge, but I know that he was out on bail after his committal.
HENRY JONES (Police Inspector T). My division embraces Sunbury—on 22nd April I received information of the burglary at Mr. Lukin's, and on 4th May I went with Wildey and Rolfe to Matthews's house, and was present when they were arrested; I took this mourning ring from Williams's finger; it has the name of Priestley on it—after Matthews was charged I made this note of what he said: "They are nothing to do with the woman; she was abed on the sofa when they brought them; Frizzy Seares, and Charles Smith are the men who brought them; Seares brought the teapot and coffee-pot, and both brought the silver spoons and forks, and the gun, which was afterwards sold to a stranger; I do not know why I should suffer for what they have done"—on the same night I went with Wildey and Rolfe to Sunbury, and on our way we called for Brown—we then arrested Smith at the Prince Albert public
house; he went about half a mile towards the station, and then commenced calling out "Murder!" and "Taylor!"—he struggled, and partly got away from Brown—he kicked Brown on the leg, and Rolfe used violence to restrain him, and he was taken to the station—I was present when Matthews was brought out in Smith's presence—I have Known Leonard some five years; he lives at Windmill Road, Sunbury, a mile and a half or two miles from Mr. Lukin's—on 6th May I went with Wildey to Leonard's house, and said, "I have come for the gun, on which I understand you have lent 2l.;" he looked at me and hesitated; I said, "I want the gun;" he said, "I have got it, you shall have it; it is hid in my loft, I will go and get it;" I said, "I will go with you;" we went together up into a loft; he opened a door, which let some light into the place, and commenced pulling away some straw punnets, and then Some tall boards; he used force to pull down the boards; they formed a kind of partition at the far corner of the room, leaving a space of four or five inches between them and the woodwork, and drew out this case; it seemed to be wedged in—I said, "How do you account for the possession of this?" he said, "Seares brought it to me one day last week; I lent him 2l. on it; he did not say how he got it, and I asked no questions"—I drew his attention to the lock, which was broken, and that the main plate was gone; he said, "It is just as I got it"—I said, "Have you not heard of the loss of Mr. Lukin's gun?" he said, "No"—the case contained a double-barrelled breechloader with appliances and cartridges—I took possession of it—on 7th May I saw Leonard, and told him to attend at Brentford Petty Sessions; he came there, and I took him in custody—I have known Seares about five years; he lived at Sunbury at this time; I have seen him and Leonard together at the end of February, at the District and Metropolitan Railway, South Kensington platform; I saw Leonard there, and saw Seares join him, and three men were in their company; I was in a train; they met and shook hands very cordially, and then my train went on—on 6th May I went to Walton-on-Thames with Mr. Parker, and found this pair of boots (produced) in a ditch; they were done up in brown paper, which had become saturated—I went there in consequence of something which Burridge told me—Mr. Parker identified the boots.
Cross-examined by MR. COLE. I have done duty in the neighbourhood for seven years—Seares lives six or seven miles from Matthews, and Smith about the same distance—it is about seven miles from Sunbury to Ealing—I took Williams; she did not say that she was a married woman, but at the time of her committal she showed me a marriage certificate—I took a copy of it, and then went to Somorset House, and found it correct—from what she said I drew the inference that it was her marriage certificate—I got this copy there (produced;) it certifies a marriage between Charles Matthews and Theresa Williams at Marylebone Church—I never saw them before I arrested them—I told Smith the charge, and handed him over to Rolfe and Browne; he called out "Murder!" lots of times—that was 150 or 200 yards from Brown's house, but in another direction altogether; we were at cross roads.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I took down a short note of what Leonard said, and have it here—when I told him to be at Brentford Sessions he said, "How am I to get on?"—I did not make a note of his asking me where he was to get the 2l.—he is a market gardener—the
loft is perhaps a quarter of the size of this Court—I did not know of Leonard employing Seares from time to time; Seares was living there when I was there—I do duty there, but I live at Hammersmith.
HENRY GARNER . I am gamekeeper at Kempton Park—on 27th April I was at the Reservoir public-house, Sunbury; Seares and Smith were at the public bar, and Leonard at the private bar; I left the private bar and went to the public bar, and Seares said to me, "I understand there is a new keeper come to Kempton Park;" I said, "I am the man."
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. Seares told me that he was a poacher-five or six people were there—I was a stranger; I took this as chaff.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have lived there sixteen years, and have known Leonard some time; he bears a good character for anything I know—I knew his father, a market gardener, who died two or three years ago; I don't know whether he employed Seares—Mr. Leonard's two sons were market gardeners, but I have not seen Seares helping them.
WILLIAM STOKES . I am a watchmaker and jeweller at Hersham—this watch was left at my shop by Mr. Wyeth, and was taken on 7th April, when my shop was broken into—there are two numbers on it, 50,985, and, the other is my own private mark, 381.
ARTHUR WYETH . I am a gardener; I also keep the Prince of Wales beer-house, Oatlands Park, Walton—this is my watch; I know it by a mark outside the case—I took the number, and afterwards left it with Mr. Stokes to be cleaned.
ARTHUR PARKER . I live at Walton-on-Thames—my house was broken into on the last Sunday in January—I had gone to church and left it safe; on my return I found the back door open, and missed a considerable quantity of property, silver plate and other things; these spoons and forks (produced) are mine—I was present when these shoes were found in a ditch close to the house—I also missed this mourning ring; I know it by the name on it.
ELIZABETH FOXLEY . I live at Percy Villas, Holloway Road, Leyton-stone, with my husband—in 1860 I was living at North Hill, Bedfordshire, with my parents—I was present when Charles Matthews was married to my sister; this is the certificate (produced)—she died in 1873.
JAMES ASHWELL . I am a carman of 22, Tweed Street, Battersea—I know Charles Matthews—I was present in 1874 when he was married to Eliza Wagstaff—I saw her last living with him about five years ago at Siddington, in Bedfordshire, but I saw her about two years ago.
LEONARD received a good character.
MATTHEWS, SEARES, and SMITH— GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
LEONARD— GUILTY OF RECEIVING .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Six Months' Hard Labour. WILLIAMS— GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Four Days' Imprisonment.
— NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, August 6th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.
WILLIAM FITKIN . I am a surgeon-dentist, of Hart Street, Leicester Square—on 23rd July, about 1.30 a.m., I was returning home through Garrick Street when three or four men came behind me; one touched me on the shoulder and demanded a shilling; I was knocked down, my hat was knocked off, and my purse was taken out of my pocket—I rose and saw a policeman coming towards me with the prisoner in charge; one of them was carrying my hat—5s. or 6s. was gone, and my purse, which had a few postage-stamps in it—I made a communication to the constable—this is my hat (produced).
EDWARD BELCHER (Policeman E 270). I was on duty in Hart Street; I saw Mr. Fitkin in Garrick Street with another man running out of Lazenby Court; I followed them about 40 yards; I caught Jones—I said, "What are you running away for?"—he said, "All right, police-man, we are only having a game with a friend of ours"—I said, "That game won't do for me, you must come back"—I took him back 200 yards into Garrick Street, where I saw the prosecutor—he said, "I have been robbed by that, man and two others"—this hat was in the prisoner's hand when I stopped him—the prisoner said he had been drinking with the prosecutor—when we were going before the Magistrate the prisoner whispered that he picked the hat up.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I found a knife, one sixpence, and 2d. on you—I did not ask the prosecutor to hold his noise.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was coming round the corner, and saw the hat in the gutter; I picked it up, and walked straight to the policeman. I was looking for the prosecutor to give it to him."
Prisoner's Defence. Four men 20 yards in front of me all ran away; no one was near; I had nothing to do with it.
GUILTY .*— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
729. THOMAS JAMES (39), WILLIAM BAKER (45), and MATTHEW CAEPENTER (45) , Feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Lafayette Cartwright Wooller with, intent to steal, and stealing a flask, a tankard, and scent-case, goods of Harriet Knight Forsyth.
BAKER PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and M. WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. WILDEY WRIGHT defended Carpenter.
MARTHA WOOLLER . I am the wife of Lafayette Cartwright Wooller, of 1, Oxford Terrace, Wellesley Road, Chiswick, a gardener—on the evening of the 3rd July I left home about 6.30—I left no one in the house—the doors were all safely locked, and the downstairs windows safely shut-about 7.15 I was sent for, and came home—I found the front door broken open, the back bedroom entered, and things in confusion.
HARRIET KNIGHT FORSYTH . I am a widow, and live with Mrs. Wooller—I left home on the 3rd July at about 6.30; my things were safe—when I returned I missed a jacket, a glass tankard, and a scent-case—I have seen these things and identified them as my property—their value is about 30l.
ELIZA WESTBY . I am the wife of George Westby, 2, Oxford Terrace—about 7.15 p.m. on 3rd July I saw Baker go to Mr. Wooller's door; I afterwards heard a wrench two or three times—I saw James come out of
the door with a bundle under his arm, and I caught hold of him; I asked him what he had there—he said it was no business of mine to interfere—I said it was and I should interfere, and I stopped and saw the bundle opened, and in it these things produced.
GEORGE WESTBY . I live at 2, Oxford Terrace—I was at my drawing-room window at about 7.20 on Sunday evening, the 3rd July; I saw Baker go up to the door and knock twice; he went away—in a few minutes James entered the door with his arms folded, and in less than three seconds I heard a tremendous noise, bang, bang, bang—I went round to the back; I saw no one there—I found my wife; she had seized James by the arm, and had got him in custody.
EDWARD GALE (Policeman T R 36), I took the prisoner James into custody on the evening of the 3rd July at the Pilot public-house; he was detained there—I searched him; I found on him five keys, two being skeleton, and a tankard—he said, "All right, do not ill-use me, I will go quietly with you; I was hard up, and obliged to do something"—on the way to the station he said, "I met two men near the bridge, who told me to go to the house and fetch the things."
THOMAS JAMES LOWE . I am ostler at the John Bull, Gunnersbury; that is about 300 yards from Mr. Wooller's house—on Sunday evening, the 3rd July, Carpenter and others came in a phaeton a little before 6—I did not see who drove the phaeton away.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. Ours is a roadside house in the main road—there is a quiet lane near which belongs to Baron Rothschild, and only two houses in it—I had no conversation with Carpenter.
JAMES PAYTON . I live at 11, West Pembroke Place, Kensington; I am a carman's boy—on this Sunday-evening I saw a trap drive up to the John Bull; I saw Carpenter, James, Baker, and another man get out of the trap and go into the public-house—two of them went towards Richmond, and Carpenter went to sleep in the trap.
ANN TAYLOR . I am single, and am a housekeeper living in the Wellesley Road—while people were at church I saw Carpenter in the garden at the back of our house; he was looking towards the house that had been broken into—I told him he had no right there, and to come back—he came back; two persons joined him.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. You can get from the road to the back garden easily—he was only there a few minutes—two men beckoned to him; that called my attention to him—he was not looking all ways, but only at the house that had been broken into—I had heard then that it had been broken into—I went to know what was the matter, seeing the two men looking.
HENRY CARTER . I live at the Coach and Hones, Pitman Street, Camberwell—on Sunday morning, the 3rd July, a tall and a short man hired a phaeton—I saw Baker before the Magistrate; James was the other man—they drove away in it; that was about 10—Baker brought it back a little after 10 at night; some one was with him—the next day the police came and made inquiries about it.
EDITH WYMAN . I live at 2, Gladstone Terrace, with my parents—I know the three prisoners—James lodged with us; Carpenter and Baker used to visit him there frequently—neither of them came to our house since 5th July; Carpenter and Baker came to see him that day, and he was out.
Cross-examined by James. I could not say how often they called—more than three times.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I swear I saw Carpenter call more than once—I cannot give you the dates—I have answered the door to him more than twice.
WILLIAM PUTTOCK (Police Sergeant P). On 4th and 5th July I watched 2, Gladstone Terrace, Camberwell—Baker went to the door—he left after it was answered by a female—he went into the Walworth Road and joined Carpenter—I stopped Baker and took him into custody for being concerned with James and others in a burglary.
DANIEL HUNT (Police Inspector P). On 5th July I took Carpenter into custody outside his house—he was brought to the station with Baker—Baker was identified; there being no witness to identify Carpenter he was liberated—he was again taken into custody at 2 o'clock on the morning of the 6th outside his own house—I said "After releasing you this morning I have made inquiries at Chiswick and Gunnersbury and that neighbourhood, and find you, James, and Baker took a horse and cart on Sunday morning from Camberwell to various places, and last of all to the John Bull, where you met James and Baker (I mentioned another name) and broke into a house; you and Baker waited to convey them home with the stolen property"—Carpenter said "Eyed, I told you this morning I went to Richmond on Sunday morning;" I said "I do not recollect your saying so"—he said he did say so.
Cross-examined by MR. WRIGHT. I swear that Carpenter used the word "Yes"—I believe I said so before the Magistrate.
WILLIAM BAKER (the Prisoner). I know the two other prisoners—on Sunday the 3rd July I was in their company—I went to James's house to call for him about 8.30 a.m. at No. 2, Gladstone Terrace, Camberwell—we then went to a jobmaster and got a horse and phaeton, then we went to the Lorrimore Road; we saw Carpenter, he was a few minutes getting ready; we drove towards Kensington, the three of us—we went through Kensington to Ealing, from Ealing to Han well; we stopped at the Duke of York at Hanweli, had dinner there, then we drove through Southall to Teddington—we stopped at the Waldegrave public-house in the Waldegrave Road—James went to a Mr. Toll, a builder, next door to the Waldegrave—Toll came out and went with us to Gunnersbury; we drove through Twickenham and Brentford, and stopped at the Star and Garter at Kew Bridge—I saw Carpenter show Toll some silver watches—we had some ale and went on to Gunnersbury—the landlord appeared to know Toll—we all drank—it was then about 6.30—Toll pointed out a place, No. 1, Oxford terrace, about 150 yards from the place where we stopped—he gave me some directions—I went and knocked at the door—I obtained no answer—I went back to Toll and reported all right—we had some conversation in Carpenter's and James's presence—we were going to rob the place that Toll pointed out, and where I knocked and obtained no answer—I said to James "Come along with me," and he came with me, and I left Carpenter and Toll there—I showed him the house where I knocked; he went in by the front door—I waited a little bit, and went back and told Toll and Carpenter that James had gone in all right—I went back to the place again—I saw a woman come into the forecourt of No. 1—I went back and told them—Toll got frightened and took a ticket at Gunnersbury Station to go home—I
stopped with Carpenter; then I went to the public-house to see if I could see or hear anything; then I minded the phaeton while Carpenter went into the house—when he came back he said he went into the public-house next door, and was going to the back, when a woman said "You have no business there"—we waited a little longer; I went in again and had a glass of ale; I could not see or hear anything; then I came back, and Carpenter went up again—I went up three times to the public-house and waited there, going backwards and forwards, till past 9 o'clock; then we drove home to Camberwell—I made an inquiry at James's at 9 o'clock the next morning, and again at night—Carpenter went with me both times—I went with Carpenter to Teddington to see Toll on the Monday—I pawned a watch at Clarke's, High Street, Clapham, for 30s., and took another one out for Carpenter—we went to the Lion public-house—I understood Toll was an old friend of Carpenter's—that was before we went down—I knew before we went down that a house was to be robbed opposite to the Lion Hotel at Teddington.
Cross-examined by James. You knew of the conversations with Toll—you were present with us in the bar, and you sat behind in the trap—Toll told you about this particular house—I did not say when I came back to you "I have found Mr. Wright"—I was not in the habit of using the words "Mr. Wright"—we all had some tools—I gave you two keys and a chisel—I did not say the door was open, nor that the catch was a little way over—I do not know what you are by profession.
Cross-examined by MR. WEIGHT. I have a tolerably good memory—I have been convicted three times—I have had twelve months' twice, and seven years'—I have had nine months'—that is all—I have not had six months'—I have only been four times convicted—I turned Queen's evidence because I thought it would make it better for me—I have not said anything that is wrong—decidedly I care, I am not a reckless spirit—Carpenter deals in jewellery and plate—I know he attends sales—it was not unusual for him to pawn jewellery—the conversations were open between us all—I did not tell Carpenter to take some jewellery, as he might sell it to my friend—Toll was his friend, not mine—we did not have a great deal of drink that day; we had a pot of ale between us at dinner-time, and three pints at the Waldegrave.
Re-examined. I have known Carpenter six years—I first became acquainted with him in St. George's Road in 1877—I knew him when I was convicted for a burglary—I have had dealings in jewellery with him—the jewellery was the proceeds of a robbery—I dealt with him once in a quantity of diamonds—they were the proceeds of a robbery.
William Wise, a late Inspector of Police, gave Carpenter a good character, hut Inspector Peel stated that for the last two years Carpenter had not a good character, but he was not aware of a conviction.
JAMES and CARPENTER— GUILTY . BAKER** also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in the name of James Harding in May, 1879, at Newington.— Judgment Respited.
730. GEORGE CLARKE (27) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Frances Moore Cave 1l. 15s. 11d. and 11s. Other Counts for converting to his own use money entrusted to him as a broker. MR. GREENWOOD Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.
year I expected a case of Emu eggs from my brother in Australia—there were three silver-mounted—on 23rd March I received this advice of the arrival of the steamship Chimborazo—I sent this bill of lading to the prisoner, enclosed in this letter, asking for the box to be forwarded—on 28th March I received this letter from the prisoner asking for 3l. 3s. to pay freight, 1l. 2s. duty (1s. 6d. per ounce), and expenses—I sent t cheque with a letter—I have lost it, with my purse in the train—the cheque was payable to order, and made out to the prisoner, with a letter requesting him to clear the box—I have received the cheque back from my banker's endorsed by the prisoner—on the 29th March I received this letter stating "The Chancellor of the Exchequer intends to remove the duty on silver; I propose not to pay till after Monday next"—I wrote a post-card giving him permission to delay till the duties were reduced—on 11th April I received this post-card acknowledging my post-card, and noting address—I received the second bill of lading—I wrote to the prisoner again that the freight was paid—he sent me a letter telling me the freight was paid from Sydney, and that the duty was reduced 3d. an ounce, and proposing to delay clearing till 6th July—I heard nothing more from the prisoner till I received the account on the 2nd June, showing a total of 4l. 18s. 1d., giving credit for 3l. 3s., showing a balance against me of 1l. 15s. 11d.—I instructed my brother to pay it—I have paid my brother—I parted with my 1l. 15s. lid. because I thought there was some more owing on the box, and I wanted to get the box—I believed the charges had been paid, or else I should never have paid any extra for it—I received this letter on June 17th, addressed to Colonel Laver, signed Herbert Clarke for his brother George Clarke, stating the case would have been forwarded by George Clarke had he not been laid up with fever, but that he would be at business the next week, and would attend at once to Miss Care's case, the charges on which all appear to have been paid—I wrote again to Clarke, and received no answer—hearing nothing more, I instructed Messrs. Grindlay to clear the box for me.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was an entire stranger to me—I did not expect him to pay the charges without first having the money, I therefore sent it.
EDWARD CAVE . I am a colonel in the army, residing at the East India Service Club—about 2nd June I was requested by my sister to pay 1l. 15s. 11d. on her behalf—I went to the defendant, at 82 and 83, Lower Thames Street, on 8th June, and paid him 1l. 15s. 11d. in cash—I was paid by my sister—I asked the prisoner why he made the charge of 1l. 15s. 11d., and he said taking one of the eggs to pieces the silversmith found the amount of silver was heavier than what he expected—I had called at the prisoner's office the day the letter was received giving reason for delay, but did not see him.
Cross-examined. There was a small office—the person there called himself a foreman.
WILLIAM HENRY BIRD . I am Examining Officer of Customs, living at 39, Haringay Road, Victoria Park—the case of Emu eggs arrived in the docks on the 25th March—it left the Dock Company's custody on 1st July; Mr. Baird, jun., paid me the duty—he is a snipping agent for Messrs. Grindlay—this is the receipt for the duty, 1l. 17s. 6d., on the freight, which was paid by Mr. Baird at the Albert Dock Office—the prisoner never paid it—if he had it would have been paid to me.
Cross-examined. A clerk never came to examine the package, a small boy came.
JOSEPH REDBEN TURNER . I live at 3, Lower Marian Road, Charlton—I am a clerk in the baggage warehouse of the Royal Albert Docks—I remember the case of Emu eggs arriving at the docks—the prime dock charges would be 2s. 6d., and a rental of 2d. a week—the dock dues and rental were paid to me on 1st July, by Mr. Baird, as agent for Grindlay and Co.—this is the receipt—no payment was made by Clarke in respect of these goods—no porterage expenses would be incurred by me up to 1st July.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate "I know your clerk (the prisoner's) came to the docks, examined the package, and ascertained the net weight of the goods"—that is a fact—the value of the case is payable in London.
Re-examined. I mean if the case had been lost 25l. would have been payable in London, the sum insured—it was a commission agent who came down, a lad.
WILLIAM DUNSFORD BAIRD . I have been shipping agent for Messrs. Grindlay and Co. 30 years, and an agent nearly 40 years—I know the prisoner's writing—he was my clerk, he left me last January—these letters are in his writing—we were instructed to clear the goods—I think on the 29th June we received the bill of lading from Grindlay's, and my son went down and had the case opened to see if the goods were all right—we paid the duty on the 30th, and my lad brought it away the next day under his arm—if it had been weighed it could have been cleared in an hour—we sent it down to Clifton the next morning—my charges include cartage to Bristol.
Cross-examined. I do not know the prisoner's brother's writing—I will not undertake to say this letter in the larger hand is not his writing-payments are anticipated by agents, but I do not do it myself.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I had the consent of the plaintiff for the delivery in the first instance. In proof of this I produce a post-card from her of 29th March, received on 30th, marked K I went to the shipbroker's on receiving a letter from Miss Cave, which stated that the freight was paid in Sydney, and I ascertained that that was so, although the bill of lading I had received from Miss Cave stated that the freight was payable in London. I obtained the freight release from the shipbroker's and sent down to the docks and had the case examined by the Customs officer, and the weight of the silver. As I did examine the case, I was justified in saying it was ready for delivery, as all it was necessary for me to do to complete the clearance was to go to the Docks again and pay the Customs duty, and the dock charges, and bring the case away. With respect to the 7s. 6d. such charges would not have been incurred had not the plaintiff prevented my removing the case from the docks; and with respect to the charge of 3s. 6d. for entry, this charge is usually made by agents. I had no intention to defraud Miss Cave, as I wrote to her solicitors offering to complete the transaction. I produce a printed form showing that it is the custom of agents to use such forms in advising parties of the arrival of their goods. It is the usual course of business.
Witnesses fir the Defence.
acquainted with the usual charges for clearing goods—I have seen a copy of Clarke's account—the charges are fair and reasonable—it is usual to anticipate payments to be made if you do not know the person—I have known Clarke 10 years—he was agent for Grindlay's—he bears a good character—his business is a bond fide one—he does my employer's lightering.
Cross-examined. I have not seen the package in respect of which the charges were made—I should charge cartage from the Albert Docks, because I should have to employ a carman, even if I could put the package under my arm—if I had received considerably more than I had paid for cartage I should return the difference; if it was only about 1s. 6d. my employer would pocket the difference—if Grindlays had only charged 1s. 6d. where I had charged 1s. 6d. by anticipation, I should refund part of the money—I should charge two guineas for clearing charges and cartage to a stranger—it is a rule to charge an entire stranger more; of course you may never see him again—I act for Howse Mead's, of St. Paul's Churchyard, and several other firms.
GEORGE FREDERICK KEY . I have been employed by Messrs. McDiarmid and Co., of Fenchurch Street, shipbrokers, 14 years—I have seen a copy of the prisoner's charges—they are proper charges; sometimes we make more—we get the money before we pay the clearing, charges in 95 cases out of 100—I have known the defendant as Mr. Baird's clerk—I always found him respectable—his is a bond fide business.
Cross-examined. We are shipbrokers in a large way of business—if we were overpaid we should return it—we have nothing to do with Grindlay and Co.
CHARLES COLLYER . I am a master carman, carrying on business at 118, Carlton Street, Mile End Road—I know George Clarke, and have been regularly employed by him for the conveyance of goods—I remember in May last his making inquiry about carrying a case of Emu eggs mounted in silver from the Albert Docks—I agreed to carry them for 7s. 6d. and 3d. toll—that is fair and reasonable.
Cross-examined. I agreed for the carting between the 8th and 20th June.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.
OLD COURT.—Monday, August 8th, 1881.
Before Mr. Recorder.
731. HENRY BANGHAM (25) and HENRY STREET (29) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for 282l., with intent to defraud. MESSRS. POLAND, MONTAGU WILLIAMS, and GORE Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH with MR. LEVEY appeared for Bangham, MR. FULTON for Street.
ELIZA CHANGE . I am the wife of William Chance, of 71, Graham Road, Dalston—we let apartments—on the 13th May last, between five and six in the evening, Street called—I was conversing with him between 5 and 10 minutes, and had every opportunity of noticing him—he asked what apartments we had—my servant had previously shown them to him—he agreed to take them—he was to call on Monday at 12, and let me have references, but he asked in the meantime that he might leave 10s. deposit, and to have any letters left there, as he was staying at an hotel—he paid the 10s., and gave the name of Charles Edmunds, of Chelmsford—on
the 17th a chest of tea like this (produced) arrived—I took it in—it was then quite entire, and had on it a label "W. Edmunds, 71, Graham Road, Dalston"—two letters also came, one thicker than the other—on the Tuesday Street called again—my servant opened the door to him—I did not set him to speak to—I saw him leave in a few minutes with the box—he did not send any reference—he never occupied the rooms, or ever called for his 10s.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I only saw him going down the steps, carrying the box—it was not wrapped up.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I did not see any one with him—I was looking out of the breakfast-room window—I did not see any cab.
CAROLENE SAYER . I was servant to Mrs. Chance—on the 13th May. Street called, and I showed him the apartments—I afterwards identified him in Newgate out of 30 or 40 others—he asked the rent—I said 12s. a week—he asked if that included gas—I said I did not know, and I called my mistress, and the arrangement was made with her—on Tuesday, the 17th, this chest of tea came, and two letters addressed to Mr. W. Edmunds—Street came that day—I let him in—he asked me if any letters had come, and he went into the parlour and opened one of them, and took out what I thought was a cheque—he said the box was a sample; he took it away, and said he would come in on Wednesday at 6 o'clock—I never saw him again till he was in custody.
GEORGE GOFFIN . I am a cabman, and live at 255, Queen's Road, Dalston—on 17th May last I was on a cab rank in the Queen's Road; that was on the Tuesday, I think, because a detective was buried that day—a young man came up, and ordered me to the Graham Road to pick up a job; that was Bangham—I drove to the Graham Road, and saw a young man standing at a door, he had a small square box; he got into the cab, and told me to drive to Dalston Junction; that was Street—when I got there Bangham came up, and they both went into the Junction together—I have not the least doubt of Bangham, but I did not take a lot of notice of him.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I said at the Mansion House that I believed it was Street whom I saw with the box—to the best of my belief these two prisoners are the men.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. At the time I saw Street he was on the edge of the pavement in front of the house—I did not see him come out of the house—I believe I next saw him about a fortnight or 10 days afterwards—a policeman asked me if I had had a fare out of the Graham Road on such and such a day; I said "Yes."
Re-examined. In the Mansion House the men were told to put their hate on, and I said "The two prisoners are, to the best of my belief, the two men"—I am satisfied they are the two men.
ALFRED COOPER . I am a member of the firm of Ridgway and Co., 4 and 5, King William Street, City—on 15th May I received this letter, dated 14th May, signed "W. Edmunds," addressed to my firm (Read: "Dear Sirs,—A friend of mine having recommended your 3s. mixed tea, I wish you to forward to the above address a box containing 15 to 201b. In payment I enclose a bank cheque for 9l., which is the only available ready cash I have at hand at the present moment, so you can deduct your charge, as I do not know the exact amount, and if you will forward me your open cheque for the balance at the same time you send your
goods I shall be obliged. I wish it to arrive not later than Wednesday evening"). This Cheque Bank cheque for 9l. was enclosed in it—I at once gave directions for the 201b. of tea to be dispatched to the place mentioned, and it was sent on the 16th—at the same time I sent the cheque for 6l., being the balance out of the 9l.; I also sent in the envelope with the cheque a receipted invoice and a price-list, that would make it a thick letter—this order for the cheque-book on the banker's is not signed by me or by my partners; it is dated May 20th; the heading is as if it was one of our printed forms, but is not—this cheque for 232l., dated 20th, is not signed by me, and I know nothing about it—this is the chest of tea I sent, and the mixture exactly corresponds with ours—I have also tested the tea in this canister, and have found it the same.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have one other partner.
Re-examined. The signature to this cheque purports to be mine, my partner's is a different one.
ARTHUR GREAVES . I am a cashier in Smith, Payne, and Smith's bank—Ridgway and Co. keep an account there—the cheque for 6l. was presented over the counter and paid by me on the 18th—this request for the cheque-book on 20th May was brought, and a cheque-book given out containing 100 cheques—at that time I thought it was the genuine signature of Ridgway and Co.—this cheque for 232l. is written on one of the forms out of that book.
ROBERT THOMAS RICHARDSON . I live at 48, Warrington Road, Camden Town, and am a cashier at Messrs. Smith, Payne, Smith, and Co.'s bank—I cashed this cheque for 232l. across the counter—I gave four 50l. Bank of England notes, Nos. 14,178 to 14,181, inclusive, and 32l. in gold.
ROBERT CHILD (City Detective Sergeant). On information received I arrested the prisoner Bangham in the Ferndale Road, Brixton—I saw him leave the house, and arrested him in the street—when I got him to the City he gave me the address Ferndale Road—I searched the house—I found a letter in an envelope addressed to Mr. Clinton; the prisoner said he was living in the name of Clinton at the time—I found an agreement in the name of Clinton on the prisoner, to take the house for 12; months; he is in that described as of 6, Bythorne Terrace—I found some cream-coloured envelopes, some betting cards, and a handbook of the Cheque Bank—I found this chest of tea there in this condition with the address label on it, "Mr. Clinton, 6, Bythorne Terrace, Ferndale Road, Brixton"—I afterwards went to Street's house; he had been arrested by some one else—I found there this canister and this small piece of wood off the chest; it exactly fits on the chest.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I did not find the letter in the envelope; the date on it is March 26, 1881—the letter refers to the Chester races; they came off at the end of May—the Cheque Bank send about handbooks advertising their bank.
concerned in forging and uttering a cheque—he gave the address 120, Faunce Street, Kennington Park—I went there, and found this bettingbook; it has "Harry Clinton, London," on it—he said he was living there under the name of Wilson.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. One bank-note 'and one cheque were found on Street; I made inquiries about the bank-note, and it is not connected with this charge—I found four other bank-notes at the lodgings; they were in no way connected with this case.
ROBERT OUTRAM . I am a detective sergeant City of London Police—on 19th December, 1879, I had possession of this letter; I showed it to the prisoner Bangham, and had a conversation with him—he said he had written it in answer to an advertisement in the Daily News.
ALBERT CHARLES PANKHURST . I am a clerk in the Inland Revenue Office, 183, Great Portland Street—Bangham was employed there as a writer from 2nd January, 1879, to 8th February, 1879; during that time I frequently saw him write, and I know his writing very well—I have a letter of his dated 21st January, 1879, stating his inability to attend at the office that day as he was suffering from neuralgia; it is addressed to the head of the office, and in Bangham's handwriting I believe—I believe this order for the cheque-book and this 232l. cheque to be his writing; also the endorsement "Charles Edwards"—as far as I can judge the endorsement, "W. Wilson," on the four Bank of England notes are also in Bangham's writing.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I do not pretend to any special knowledge of handwriting—I have not seen Bangham write since February, 1879—some of his alleged handwriting has been put into my hand, and I was asked to say whether other writing was his or not—I would not like to swear to it for certainty—I said at the police-court if this was a matter of life and death I would not like to express a positive opinion, and that I had no special reason for fixing my attention upon his handwriting—there is to a certain extent a great similarity in the handwriting of Civil Service clerks, more especially in copyists—Bangham was employed to copy documents—what is called a "Civil Service hand" is largely adopted in the Civil Service; I believe it is a handwriting greatly practised by candidates for the service.
Re-examined. To the best of my belief the address upon the chest is also Bangham's writing—to the best of my belief the handwriting I have spoken to is his also; I have no doubt of it in my own mind.
ROBERT THOMAS RICHARDSON (Re-examined). I have been cashier to Smith, Payne, and Smith four years—I find that the signature to the forged cheque for 232l. exactly corresponds with the 6l. cheque of Ridgway and Co.—the words stand exactly upon the same space; it appears to be traced and to be identical—the request for the cheque-book appears to be very similar—I have seen this letter and the admitted handwriting of Bangham in the letters, and I believe the order for the cheque-book and the 232l. cheque to be in the same handwriting; I have looked at them very carefully—in my judgment the endorsements on the four notes are in the same writing, I have no doubt of it whatever—I should also say that the letter signed Edmunds, the endorsement on the 6l. cheque, and the signature W. Edwards on the Cheque Bank cheque, are all in the same writing.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I believe the order and the 232l. cheque
to be in the same handwriting as Bangham's admitted letter—at the time I paid the cheque I believed the signature to be Ridgway's—I believed the signature to resemble theirs; the filling up resembled Bangham's—I did not take the filling up of the cheque to be Ridgway's, that might be anybody's; I think it is intended to be a copy of Ridgway's writing—it is not a rule in our house that the body of the cheque should be written by the customer or somebody whose writing we are acquainted with—I am bound to pay upon the signature, or we should never do any business.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I give it as a matter of opinion that the "Ridgway and Co." on the 232l. cheque is a tracing from the 6l. cheque—I do not know anything as to how the tracing is done, but the two signatures cover the same ground if you put them up to the light—the open part of the "d" certainly covers more space in one case than it does in the other, but I can't see any appreciable difference—there is also a little difference in the size of the bottom part of the "c," but you cannot detect it in holding them up to the light—I cannot see any other difference except in the "a"—I cannot see any in the"y."
ELIZABETH CROUCH . I live at 6, Bythorne Terrace, Ferndale Road, Brixton, and let apartments there—in March last Bangham took apartments there in the name of Clinton, and remained till the 1st June—about three weeks before he left this box came by the carrier—Street used to visit Bangham a great many times.
WILLIAM OLDHAMPSTEAD (City Detective). I know the prisoners and have been watching them—I first saw them in company on 31st May, and I have seen them together nearly every day at the Horns Tavern, Kennington, and various parts of London—up to the time of their arrest they were in company and known to each other.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. At the end of May there are races nearly every day at different places—a great many racing men go down by the same trains.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I do not know them as racing men except from what they say among themselves—I have seen them going to races and returning, and I have also seen them meet one another in the middle of the day at various places.
CHARLES EDWARDS . I am an upholsterer carrying on business at 16, Sharpie's Hall Street, Regent's Park Road, and I am the only person carrying on business under that name—this stamped endorsement on this forged cheque was not made by me, or my authority; it is not my stamp.
GUILTY . BANGHAM also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court in June, 1874, in the name of William Henry Clinton. BANGHAM.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude. STREET.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Monday, August 7th, 1881.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
The Jury being unable to agree were discharged without a verdict, and the case was postponed to the next Session.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
734. JOHN RAITH** (24) to stealing a horse and cart and bet of harness, the goods of William Brown, having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford in 1874.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
CHARLOTTE CURTIS . My husband keeps the Swan beerhouse, Barking—I served the prisoner with a bottle of ginger-beer; it was a little after 2 o'clock—he gave me a florin; I gave him the change, and afterwards found the coin was bad—I found him in custody.
JAMES SCOTCHES . I keep the Duke of Wellington, Barking—on 30th June, about 2.30, I served the prisoner with a bottle of lemonade; he gave me a florin, and as I had no change I gave it to my wife, who gave me 1s. 10d. change—I found two or three minutes afterwards that it was bad, overtook him, and gave him in charge with the coin, which I marked—this is it—he gave me the 1s. 10d. back.
LOUISA SCOTCHER . On 30th June, about 2 o'clock, my husband gave me a florin, and I gave him 1s. 10d. change and put the coin in my pocket, where there was no other florin—he afterwards asked me for it, and I gave it back to him.
RICHARD JEFFERY (Police Inspector). I received these two coins on 30th June, about 2.45—Burrroughs brought the prisoner to the station, Scotcher charged him, and afterwards Mrs. Curtis came and identified him—I read the two charges to him, and he said "I refuse to answer any more questions."
WILLIAM BURROUGHS (Policeman). On 30th June a little before 3 I went in search of the prisoner, found him at the railway station, and took him in custody and charged him with uttering counterfeit coin; he gave me his address, and I went there.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
736. HARRY LESTER (22)** PLEADED GUILTY to stealing two pieces of paper and 4l., the property of Robert Mackay, and to a conviction of felony at Newington in April, 1880.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
For the case of William Sutherland See page 407.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MESSES. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended. DANIEL COLLINS. I am a labourer living at 6, Cannon Row, High Street, Woolwich—I know the prisoner, and I knew the young woman who lived with him named Fanny Musson; they lived next door to me—on Saturday evening, 23rd July, they were turned out of their lodgings by the landlady about midnight—before and after they were turned out they were quarrelling and fighting—on the Monday, about 1.30, I saw them again in the Three Crowns public-house; he was calling her all manner of names, and he said "I will do for you before night"—I saw them again at half-past 4 in the afternoon outside No. 7, Cannon Row, next door to me; they were quarrelling and fighting all the time, and he chucked two half-bricks at her; she ran through the passage away from him; he picked up a bit of iron, what they call a matting needle; it was lying alongside of a large tub; it is a thing used for beating dust out of mats and carpets; it was three or four yards from where he was throwing the bricks at her—she ran from the front to the back yard, and was standing about four yards from the tub when he picked up the needle, swung it round, and said "Die, you b—cow," and hit her on the side of the head with it; she fell down, and said "George, you hare done it; Lord have mercy on my soul"—he then kneeled down and kissed her face, and then made for Plumstead; he chucked the needle on one side and said "Now I will give myself up"—I followed him about 150 yards from the house; I hit him on the nose and knocked him down, and kept him there till a policeman came—I said "You have killed Fanny"—he said "Yes, I am going to give myself up; I am going to see my mother at Plumstead"—a constable came up and took him into custody—I went for the doctor; the woman never spoke again—the prisoner had his senses; he had a little beer in him, but he knew what he was doing; the woman was sober.
Cross-examined. Nos. 6 and 7 are joined into one house, and the back yards join—the same landlord owns both houses—I was standing against my own door when they were turned out—I was in a public-house close to Cannon Row with them that evening—I went home between a quarter and half-past 12—I was not intoxicated—they were always at public-houses; they slept when they were turned out at a lodging-house called Raglands; I saw them come out the next morning—I did not see them on Sunday—I did not see them in a public-house where they were both turned out when it was closed—I don't know where they were on the Sunday night; on the Monday they both wanted to come back to the lodgings about 11.30 or 12 o'clock—they were knocking about the door all day—they went away from there into Makepeace's public-house—they started fighting at 1.30—I was in the public-house at the same time; I did not interfere in any way—they were not quarrelling with other men—the man wanted money from her to get beer—there were other men in the public-house—before that he had had enough to drink;
he was not drunk; he had been drinking all day—she had not gone with him from public-house to public-house all day; they were in the habit of going about together—I was in the public-house at 1:30—afterwards I went down to a rowing match, and got back to Cannon Bow about 4.30—I was doing no work that day; I was doing night work—I stood against my front door, and saw her run through the passage—he was calling her names—the two half bricks were thrown in the road in front; I did not like to interfere when I saw them thrown—I went after Durling when she went into the passage; I went through my own door into the back yard—I stood against the washhouse door—I heard what was said; I did not in any way interfere—he appeared to be in a great rage—there is a shed and a water closet in the yard—the bricks were not thrown against the shed; I did not see him throw anything against the shed—the piece of iron was kept in the yard—she was four yards from the shed in the back yard when she was struck—he swung it round, and she was hit on the back of the head, on the left side—immediately he had done it he seemed sorry for it; he kneeled down and kissed her; it appeared to sober him—he walked out of the passage, and said "I am going to give myself up"—when the constable came he handed him the matting-needle, and said "Constable, that is what I did it with," and he kneeled down and kissed her before the constable took him away—the house is inhabited by prostitutes.
MARGARET GILSON . I am a single woman, residing at 5, Cannon Row, Woolwich—I had known the deceased woman, Fanny Musson, for about 10 months—on Monday afternoon, between 4 and 5 o'clock, I was at my window at the back on the second floor—I could see into the back yards—the prisoner and deceased were there quarrelling about some money—I could not exactly hear what was said; the prisoner spoke about the money—I did not hear Fanny Musson say anything—the prisoner took up two half bricks and a whole one and threw them at her—they did not strike her; she ran into the shed for protection—I saw the prisoner go to the water-butt to find this needle; it was on the ground; he picked it up and ran to the deceased and struck her on the back of the head—he was about three yards from the water-butt when he struck her; she fell down—I heard nothing said at that time by him or her—he then knelt down and kissed her, and he pulled the iron out of her head and dropped it on the ground, and ran out of No. 7 through the house—the woman was then lying on the ground on her back—the witness Collins ran out after him and held him till the constable came—I heard so; I did not see him—I saw them in the public-house drinking about 11.30—the prisoner had a little drink, but the deceased had not so much.
Cross-examined. I can't say if they had been drinking together all day—I don't know what they were doing from 11.30 to 4.30—I went out of the house and did not see them again—the deceased was not quite so drunk as the prisoner—I had known them for 10 months—they did drink a good deal, both of them; they were always in public-houses together—he appeared to be in a great rage, very angry—he used the iron with great violence; he swung it round and hit her with it on the hat—I was leaning with my head out of the window; there was nobody with me—the yard is a large double one—after this had happened he seemed to be sorry for it; he was sober directly he did it—I don't
know what they were doing on the Saturday night—I did not see them turned out of a public-house on the Sunday—I had not seen them for two or three days before this.
ELIZABETH KNIGHT . I am a single woman, living at Cannon Row—I had known Fanny Musson prior to her death for about nine months—she and the prisoner lodged in the same house with me—on Monday afternoon I was in my room at the back of the house—I saw the prisoner and the deceased in the back yard quarrelling, a little after 4 o'clock—I heard the prisoner say that he would do for her before the day was over—the deceased came into my room after that and asked me to let her put her hat and jacket on—the prisoner came once to my door and asked me if Fanny was there; I said" No," but she was in my room all the time—he then went downstairs; I followed him—I came back to my room; the deceased was standing in my room—the prisoner did not come up again—I told the deceased that the prisoner was out of sight, and she went downstairs, and soon afterwards I heard them running through the passage—I looked out of the window and saw him throwing bricks at her—she went into the shed—at that time the prisoner was looking for the matting—iron—he picked it up two steps from the tub, in the middle of the yard—she was then out of the shed, and he struck her by the side of the left ear, with the thin end—she fell, giving one scream, and saying "Lord have mercy on me," and never spoke afterwards—he then fell down on his knees and kissed her—when she was in my room she did not look to me as if she had had any drink—the prisoner looked very heavily in drink.
Cross-examined. I was not present on the Saturday night when they were turned out—I saw them on the Sunday; she was sitting on the stairs; I don't know how they passed the Sunday—I saw them first on the Monday at dinner-time in the front of the house—there is a public-house four doors off—there was nothing to prevent her staying in my room if she wished—she put her hat on, rolled up her jacket, and put it under her arm, and went out of her own accord—I did not see that he went to the public-house—I did not see where he came from; he came from the public-house when he came back—they were in the yard about three-quarters of an hour, quarrelling all the time—during that time she could have gone into either of the houses 6 or 7; the doors were open—I saw Collins there all the time.
RICHARD STRETTON (Policeman R 219). About 4.45 on Monday, 25th July, I was on duty in Cannon Row—I there saw the witness Collins and the prisoner about 40 yards or more from No. 7—Collins said to me "Policeman, this man has killed a woman"—I asked him where the woman was, and I, Collins, and the prisoner went at once to the back yard of No. 7, where I saw the woman lying on the ground bleeding from a wound on the side of the head—I picked up this hat, lying by her side; it had a hole in it, and blood on the inside—some one in the yard gave me this iron, and the prisoner said "Yes, policeman, that is what I did it with; I threw it at her, and it struck her in the head"—I then went for Dr. Webb, who came and attended to the woman, dressed her head, and ordered her to be removed to the infirmary—I handed the prisoner over to constable Smith to take to the station, where he was charged with assaulting the woman—he was sober, and understood what was said—the woman was quite insensible—she never spoke in my presence.
Cross-examined. I did not notice that he had been drinking—he knew what he was about—he could walk very well—I could see he might have had a glass—he seemed more excited to me.
JOSEPH SMITH (Policeman R 108). The prisoner was handed to me by the last witness—on the way to the station he said he threw the iron at the deceased, it stuck in her head, and he afterwards pulled it out; that he knew she would die, and he was sorry for what he did—he was charged at the station—he was sober—he had more the appearance of being excited than of having been drunk.
JOHN GASOOIGNE WEBB . I am a surgeon, residing at Woolwich—on Monday afternoon, between five and six, I went to Cannon Row, and found the deceased lying on her back in the yard of No. 7, in a state of collapse, not totally insensible—she could not speak—I saw she was very seriously injured, and attended to the wound, and had her conveyed to the infirmary in an ambulance—I did not see her again until she was dead—I was present at the post-mortem examination which Mr. Rice made.
GEORGE RICE , M.B. I am the resident medical officer at Woolwich Infirmary—at 6 o'clock on the evening of July 25th, the deceased was brought to the infirmary—she was quite insensible, and had a wound on the side of her head—she died on the following Tuesday morning at 10 minutes to 6—she did not speak during the whole time—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—I found the skull was fractured at the point where the wound was—the wound which caused the fracture was about two inches above the back part of the left ear, and extended through the skull into the brain, a distance of about four and a half inches, slightly backward, and was just such a wound as might have been inflicted by the sharp end of this instrument—very considerable force must have been used to have inflicted such a wound—there was just a small circular hole in the skull, about a quarter of an inch in diameter in the outer table, and the inner table was shattered—there were some fragments in the brain—it must have gone in point first—there was considerable blood effused in the right side of the brain, about at the end of the injury, and that had caused some injury to the right side as well—the brain was punctured by it—the injury caused her death.
Cross-examined. The wound itself was a very small one—it was about a quarter of an inch long—the fracture must have been occasioned by the point.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "All I can say is I threw the iron, but I did not throw it with the intention of causing death.
Cross-examined. She has been living at different times with a man named Musson, that was how she got that name—she was an unfortunate woman—I have had her in custody for being drunk and disorderly.
Re-examined. I have also had the prisoner in custody.
GUILTY .— DEATH .
Before Robert Malcom Kerr, Esq.
CHARLES MUNGARD . I keep the Sussex Arms, Plumstead—on 6th June the prisoner came to my house about a horse that I had bought—he brought it on the 7th—he asked me if I would lend him a London and County Bank cheque—I said I could borrow it; he said he wanted to send it away to pay a mortgagor, it was due the day before—I told him I banked at the International, but he could cross "International" out and write "London and County"—he said he must have a London and County, as the money was invested at the London and County, Westminster—I went to a friend's house and borrowed a blank cheque and gave it to the prisoner—that was on the London and County Bank, Woolwich branch—he asked for pen and ink, which I handed to him and left him in the bar with it—he showed me the bill of costs (produced) of Mr. Edwin Hughes—he said he had settled with him and wanted to pay off the mortgage of 400l.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I believe Mr. Bartholomew received the money for the horse, I have not heard to the contrary—you did not tell me it was necessary to scratch out "Woolwich" and insert "Charing Cross branch"—you used the words that it was Mr. Hughes's bill of costs, I did not examine it only as to the probate duty—you said it was for some property which he had sold for you in the Maxey Road.
WILLIAM HARRIS . I am a grocer, of 55, Plumstead Road—on the 7th June Mr. Mungard applied to me for a cheque—I went to Miss Shelley, next door; she gave me a cheque on the London and County Bank—I gave it to Mr. Mungard.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not hear you say that the Woolwich branch would have to be erased and "Charing Cross" inserted.
KATE SHELLEY . I live next door to Mr. Harris—my sister keeps an account at the Woolwich branch of the London and County Bank—on the 7th Mr. Harris applied to me for a blank cheque—I took one from my sister's cheque-book and gave it to him—this is the counterfoil and this is the cheque.
JOSHUA BARTHOLOMEW . I keep the Golden Lion at Bexley Heath—the prisoner stayed at my house in June—on 8th June he gave me this cheque signed Edwin Hughes, and endorsed F. O. Wray, for 463l. 6s. 8d.—he said it was paid to him on account of a legacy left to him by his father by Mr. Hughes—he asked me to pay it into my bank and give him the balance, deducting the money he had borrowed of me—I gave him 9l. or 10l.—he said he wanted it to go to Croydon—I paid the cheque into Mr. Mungard's bank—it was returned marked "No account"—I next saw the prisoner in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have known you some years, and other branches of your family—I believe my brother accompanied you to a solicitor, who prepared a document as to your identification—I believe you posted the draft to Mr. Hughes yourself—I drove with you to Epsom and other places, and you showed me 3l. or 4l. which you said your solicitor had advanced you on account of your legacy—you showed me some papers—I understood Sir George Wyatt was your trustee.
By the COURT. I promised him the money knowing he was to going to have the cheque—I believed what he told me about the legacy—my brother told me something—he owed me about 20l. besides the 10l. I advanced.
EDWIN HUGHES . I am the only solicitor at Woolwich of this name—I do not know the prisoner—I never had any business transactions with him—this is not my cheque—I have no account at that bank—I never authorised anybody to write it—I saw these bills of costs this morning for the first time—the signature "Henry Hughes" to the receipt is not my writing—this appears to be "Wood and Hare to Edwin Hughes"—I know no solicitor named Mr. Edward Hughes—I have a son named Edward Talfourd.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am in practice at "Woolwich—I reside at Plumstead—I have been there 30 years.
HENRY PHILLIPS (Police Inspector R). I apprehended the prisoner on 9th June, at the Croydon Petty Sessions—I told him he would be charged with uttering a cheque on the London and County Bank for 463l., and with an attempt to defraud Mr. Bartholomew, at Bexley Heath—he looked at me and used the expression "Nothing"—coming from Croydon he said "I hope Joe will forgive me; you intercede for me, you will, won't you?"—he afterwards said "I feel full of remorse, and I was going to tell Joe the truth."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said "Full of remorse," not that you were sorry.
Prisoner's Defence. There are two Mr. Hugheses. Mr. Bartholomew and his brother volunteered to attend Messrs. Wood and Hare and sign a document as to my identity. I posted the document to Mr. Hughes, therefore there must be a Mr. Hughes who received it, as there cannot be any tampering with the post. Mr. Edwin Bartholomew, who could have told you the address of Mr. Hughes, was not called. The document came back three times from Mr. Hughes and once from my solicitor. The cheque was paid into the wrong branch.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in October, 1874, at Lewes— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
739. WILLIAM MUGGERIDGE (23), WILLIAM LEE, ARTHUR SPILLERBERG, THOMAS HANSON (16), JOSEPH ANDREWS, RICHARD SHIPTON (18), HENRY MUGGERIDGE (17), and JAMES MARCHANT , Stealing 2381b. of fat, the property of Thomas Davis and another.
MR. MEAD Prosecuted; MESSRS. PURCELL and LILLEY appeared for Marchant; and MESSES. LILLEY and CROOME for the other prisoners.
GEORGE PHILOOCKS . I am superintendent of the Foreign Cattle Market, Deptford—I know Hanson; he works for Mr. Follett, a butcher in the market—his foreman is named Olsen—a pass is necessary to take goods out of the market—on Saturday, 2nd July, about 2 p.m., Hanson came and said "Will, you give me a pass to take out calves guts from Follett's slaughter-house?" I said "I cannot do so unless you get an order from the foreman, saying that you have a right to them"—two other lads were with him, Andrews and Spillerberg, I think, but I am not certain—Hanson said "Well, I think it is all right, I work there;" I said "But you are not the foreman, and I cannot give you a pass"—the three came again in half an hour, and brought this order, and I signed it and allowed them to taker the guts away; it is, "Sir,—Pass bearer with calves' guts from Follett. W. Olsen,
foreman"—on Sunday morning, 3rd July, I pointed out Hanson to the inspector.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I have known Hanson working in the market for a long time—persons employed there are deemed to be honest.
GEORGE GURNEY . I am the prosecutors' foreman—Muggeridge was in his employ, and Lee was in my employ—my employers contracted with Messrs. Knight for buying the fat—they carry on business outside the market, and the fat is taken out in casks—on Saturday morning, 2nd July, I left the slaughter-house in Lee's charge; there were four sacks of fat there, and I told Lee to take them to Mr. Knight's if I was not back within an hour or two—it was my custom to meet him outside the Bock of Gibraltar public-house; he was not there—I had to pass the police-station on my way home about 6 o'clock, and found him there in custody, and William Muggeridge also—I said to Lee "What do you mean by telling the policeman that I gave you the fat?" he said "Gurney, I did not say so, all I said was that the foreman of the mutton butcher's gave me some fat guts for washing out the slaughter-house"—it is not true that I gave any of the prisoners any fat on that Saturday—it was all mutton fat in those four bags, and no fat guts—there are several parts of the inside of a sheep from which fat may be taken, but the caul fat has no connection with the guts—I went to Marchant's that afternoon, and the police showed me some fat similar to what the bag contained—I saw some mutton caul fat, and also fat taken from the guts; that was with calves' fat and calves' fat guts—we had killed no calves, and lost no calves' fat—the mutton fat I saw at Marchant's was in a very dirty condition; it was not whole, as it was taken off the guts in small particles, and it was clean when it was in our place.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. There are more than 100 slaughter-houses, but they do not kill sheep at all of them—when the slaughterers are killing sheep or lambs they pitch the cauls into a sack against the wall, and sometimes the fat sticks to the wall or falls on the floor, but it he supposed to be picked up and put in the sack—the slaughter-houses are swept out a dozen times a day, sometimes out at the doors, and the fat is collected—the guts are the slaughterer's perquisites—the four sacks in question contained all mutton fat; they were taken to Knight's; it is impossible to identify the fat in them as coming from our place, though, of course, it would be similar—I never saw the sacks, only the fat, but it was all mutton fat in them—the bag I saw at Marchant's contained a mixture, including calves' guts and everything.
Re-examined. The men are not entitled to mutton caul fat, or to any fat whatever—I did not see the four sacks weighed at Knight's, and I cannot say if anything was taken from them—fat ought not to be spilled on the ground when the sacks were being filled, and there was none on the ground when I left—the slaughter-house had not been cleaned up then, but the fat had all been picked up; there would not be a stone nor half a stone.
JOHN DRAPER (Policeman R 172). On 2nd July I was stationed at the gate of the Foreign Cattle Market, Deptford, and between 2 and 3 p.m. I saw Spitterberg with three or four bags of fat guts and calves' guts on a barrow—I only know that by asking him what he had got; I
did not see what the bags contained—he said that he got them from Mr. Follett's slaughter-house, and produced this pass, but it was not signed by the superintendent—I said "This is not the proper pass, it is not signed; you will have to go back and see Mr. Philcox and ask him"—he went away with the barrow, and in 15 or 20 minutes I saw him with one bag only on the barrow—he produced a pass signed by Mr. Philcox, and I allowed it to pass—later on that day I saw one of Mr. Delahay's vans containing horns driven out at the gate—Lynch was not driving it.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I did not take a memorandum of the conversation—he did not say that he got one of the bags from Follett's—there were three or four bags, but he only took out one—boys go round the slaughter-houses picking up fat.
Re-examined. They walk round, and pick up the pieces which are swept out of the slaughter-houses—I never saw 20 stone lying outside.
JOHN WHEELER . I am a slaughter man at the Foreign Cattle Market, Deptford—I was there on Saturday, 2nd July, near the Peter the Great public-house, 150 or 160 yards from Mr. Davis's slaughter-house, and saw William and Henry Muggeridge and Shipton put three bags of stuff from a barrow on to the hind part of a van loaded with horns—I do not know whose van it was, or who the driver was.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I had seen them before plenty of times in the market.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Among the men's perquisites there are things called slipps—there is never any fat in slipps—they are generally taken to Bermondsey in hide vans.
Re-examined. There were no hides on the van, only horns—no bags remained on the barrow; they took it away, and the van went on.
THOMAS LYNCH . I am a driver in the employ of Mr. Delahay, the carman—on 2nd July I drove a van into Deptford Market, where it was loaded with horns—before I left, some one asked if I would allow him to put two bags of guts on the tail of my van—I cannot identify him—a lot of persons were standing there—I can swear two bags were put on, and there might be more—when I got out a man said to me, "Pull up"—he had a coster's cart—he put the bags on it, gave me 1s., and drove away—he was one of the men whom I had seen in the market—I went over Black Horse Bridge—I do not know Church Street, and cannot say whether I went through it.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I did not pass the Tram Inn—when I passed where the tram stops I turned to the right, where the big public-house is, stopped for him to pull the bags out, and then went along the tram line—I do not know where Marchant lives.
Re-examined. There are not two trams, but there is a double line—I did not turn to the right when I came from the market; I went straight ahead to where the tram stops, and then turned to the right over Black Horse Bridge—I had never seen the man before, and should not know him again.
By the JURY. I was in the van driving—I had only 8 cwt., and it was not loaded so high that I could not see, and the tail of the van is five feet high when it is up.
WILLIAM GILL (Policeman R 221). On Saturday afternoon, 2nd July, about 3.30, I was in Church Street, Deptford, and saw a van laden with horns outside Marchant's shop, who was standing in his doorway—Lynch
was the driver, and a man who I cannot identify, carried a sack from the van into the shed at the side of Marchant's shop—the van was then driven away up Union Street—Ashley then came up, and I went into the shop and saw Mrs. Marchant, who called her husband, and I said to him, "What is that the van left just now?" he said, "What van? I have not seen any van"—I drew his attention to some water which had run out at the tail of the van into the road—Ashley and I then went into the yard with Marchant, and saw the two Muggeridges, Lee, Shipton, and Marchant's brother—I went into a shed, and saw a costermonger's barrow there, with two full sacks on it—I asked who brought them there—Lee and Muggeridge, who followed me, both said, "We did"—I said, "Where did you get it from?" they said, "Mr. Gurney gave it to us in part payment for work"—I said, "You will be charged with stealing it;" I told Marchant he would be charged with receiving it, knowing it to be stolen—he said, "No, you can't say that; for I thought if they got a pass it was all right"—I saw a tub there containing fat, and asked who brought it; Shipton and Henry Muggeridge said, "We brought that"—I said, "Where did you get it from?" they said, "We bought it of George Webster for eighteenpence"—Marchant's brother then went to the yard gate and waved his and; I could not see to whom—I went for assistance, and met Inspector Dowling—I afterwards met Spillerberg and Andrews in Wellington Street, and told them they would have to go back with me to Mr. Marchant's about some fat; they went with me to the yard, and pointed out another tub of fat, and said that they sold it to Marchant for 11*. 2d.—they were' all taken to the station—I weighed the two bags of fat which were on the barrow, one weighed 21 stone and the other 8 stone 6 pounds—I pointed it out to Mr. Gurney, and also that which Henry Muggeridge and Shipton pointed out, which weighed 18 stone, and Andrews's lot, which weighed 20 stone, and he examined it—besides those three lots there were other lots, 165 stone altogether.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I was in Church Street, about forty yards from Marchant's yard, when I saw the van draw up—I was not under cover, but at the corner of the street—I know a little about fat; this is mutton call fat, which has been torn up into little pieces and made dirty; there is very little gut—young Marchant did not wave his hand as if to a friend, it was a forbidding wave; I did not see to whom.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. There is a butcher's shop next door to Marchant's—there were a lot of foot passengers there but no carts—I was on the same side as Marchant's, and the van was outside his door by the kerb, and the sacks were taken out on a man's back, and put on the barrow in the shed—I was not recalled after Lynch at the police-court—this (produced) is a correct plan—Marchant's shop is the first round the corner on the right—among the fat at Marchant's was a lot of sheep's caul—there were some bottles there; he is a general dealer.
Re-examined. I only saw one sack carried in, because the van stopped before I got there—I have no doubt that Lynch was the carman.
CHARLES ASHBY (Policeman It 186). On Saturday, 2nd July, about 2 o'clock, I saw a van loaded with horns driven from Deptford Cattle Market—instead of going straight towards London it turned to the left, and went in the opposite direction up Wellington Street, and I lost sight of it—I afterwards went to Marchant's shop; the van was not there
then; I went in with Gill, and asked Marchant what had been left there just now—he said, "Nothing"—Gill said, "What was brought in from the van which has just left your door?"—he said, "There has been no van here"—Gill said, "Yes there has; you can see where the water has drooped from the van at your door"—I went out at the back and found Lee the two Muggeridges, Shipton, and Marchant's brother, who went to the gate, held it partially open, and went like this, as if to mean, Go away—that was to Spillerberg and Andrews, who were nearly 20 yards from the shop—I followed him up, and he pushed the gate to, and they turned and walked up Church Street—I told Gill what I had seen.
Cross-examined by MR. CROOME. Gill was 8 or 10 yards away when Marchant's brother made that motion, and I was three or four yards behind him—a few other people were in the street—I knew Spillerberg and Andrews before; they were just across the road; it is impossible that they could be 30 yards away.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I saw the van come from the Market, Lynch was the driver—I knew him by sight—Union Street is just below Marchant's shop—I did not take a note of the conversation; you cannot do so in the street, the order only applies to statements made at the station—I have been 11 years in the force—I ran after the van, but lost sight of it—I found a quantity of mutton called middles, that is the running gut.
Re-examined. The running guts had been pulled out—there was a quantity more fat than gut.
JOHN DOWLING (Police Inspector B). On Saturday, 2nd July, I was fetched to Marchant's yard, and took down what Spillerberg and Andrews said—they said, "We bought it from Mr. Follett, of Bill and Arthur," and at the station they said that they got 11s. 2d. for it from Marchant, and that it weighed 20 stone.
Cross-examined. Marchant applied to examine the stuff, but it Had been destroyed, the weather was very hot.
WILLIAM OLSEN . I am foreman at Mr. Foliett's—Hanson was employed by us—this pass is not signed by me or by my authority—I did not sell Spillerberg and Andrews any fat on the Saturday; I sold them about four stone of fat guts, value 8d.; they used to pay 5s. a week for lt—a certain amount of fat is attached to the guts.
Cross-examined by MR. CROOME. We sell them 30 or 40 stone a week on an average when we are busy—Spillerberg had some on Thursday night or Friday morning—Hanson has been employed there about 15 months; he bears a very good character.
Re-examined We do not sell any caul fat—you cannot dean calves fat—there are some hundred slaughtermen in the market—I saw some calves' guts and sweepings of the slaughter-house at the station, pieces of lean and bits of gristle, which are thrown on the floor.
GEORGE WEBSTER . I am employed at Kilby's slaughter-house, and on 2nd July I sold about 4 1/2 stone of calves' guts to Shipton and Henry Muggeridge—when they were cleaned there would be about 241b. of fat—I sold them no other fat.
Cross-examined by MR. CROOME. I have been in the market over four years, and have bought fat guts there—the guts, are the perquisites of the men employed, and very often they are swept out for the boys to pick up.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I saw the stuff at Marchant's, it was calves' guts and fat guts put together—it was dirty, and had the appearance of sweepings—I told the policeman that they looked like the calves' guts I sold.
Re-examined. There was no caul fat at Marchant's; if there had been I should have recognised it instantly.
THOMAS DAVIS . I am one of the prosecutors—we send our fat to Mr. Knight, the contractor, who pays 2s. a stone for it—we slaughtered 300 sheep before this Saturday, and the yield of fat would be 6lb. per sheep, that is, 1,800lb., which ought to have gone there on Saturday.
Cross-examined by MR. CEOOME. I only know by our books that 300 sheep were slaughtered—I have dressed sheep for 20 years, and 61b. is the average—I know the prisoners about the market picking up guts—Lee and William Muggeridge were employed by my foreman.
By the COURT. We have delivered 1,600lb. of fat to Knights on Saturday!—none of it would be unfit to go there even in very hot weather.
Cross-examined. I weighed it myself, and received the money—I was there the whole day.
Marchant received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
The Jury considered the system of perquisites very bad, as it led to robbery.
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. LILLEY
The prisoner was tried on 31st March last (See Sixth Session, p. 694) for feloniously wounding the said Catherine Davies on 14th December, with intent to murder, and teas then convicted of unlawfully wounding, and sentenced to fifteen months' hard labour. She subsequently died on 27th June, from the consequences of the injuries received in December. The evidence given on the first trial was repeated, together with surgical proof of the cause of death.
GUILTY of Manslaughter .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, to be concurrent with the previous sentence.
Before Mr. Recorder.
742. JAMES GODKIN (22) to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of a cheque book, and forging and uttering a cheque for 95l.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted.
EDWARD KNIGHT . I am a painter, of Penrose Street, Walworth—about 12.10 a.m. on 24th July I was in Blackman Street, Borough, and saw the prisoner and two others—the prisoner caught hold of me by my left shoulder, and asked me for a penny; I said I had none to spare—he struck me on my mouth and knocked me down—I got up, he snatched the chain from my waistcoat, left the watch in my pocket, and ran away; I caught him in Lawrence Street and gave him into custody—he was quite sober—he said "Old man, I know nothing of your chain"—the other two got away.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You hit me in the mouth with your clenched fist—you had had a drop, but were not the worse for liquor.
EMMA BAMMELL . I am a buttonhole worker—I saw the prisoner go up to the prosecutor; he asked him for a penny—Knight said "I hare not one"—the prisoner gave him a blow on the mouth, and knocked him down—I saw the gentleman struggling with the other men as if the prisoner had given the chain to them.
JOHN KEENAN (Policeman M 141). I was standing opposite Lant Street, saw a scuffle, and heard a shout of "Police" twice—I went across the road quick, when I got in sight of the prisoner and Knight—the prisoner got away, and I followed him—I did not lose sight of him—he met a man in the street and halted, and walked round him and down the side of a wall—I took him into custody—he was quite surprised and said "What is it?"—when Knight came up he said that he did not do it.
The Prisoner's Statement before the—Magistrate. "I really did not know what I was about at the time. I was drunk when I done it. I had money of my own. I don't believe I asked for a penny at all. I can bring up a witness, my brother-in-law, who knew where he left me; I was with no one else all night."
Prisoner's Defence. I don't know whether I done it. I did not do it intentionally. I was too bad with drink.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILLES Prosecuted; MR. RAVEN appeared for Watts, and MR. LILLEY for Searle.
WILLIAM CHANGE . I keep a grocer's and haberdashery shop at 66, Church Street, South Lambeth—on. 18th July Searle came in and had some dealings with my wife—20 minutes afterwards Watts came in—my wife called me into the shop—Watts showed me some drapery, and said he was in the habit of supplying my predecessor regularly every month, calling to know if he wanted any goods—I told him that I was full up, and he showed me similar boot-laces to these (produced)—I told him I did not want any—it ended in my buying halt' a dozen leather lacea at 2s., and a dozen mohair laces for 7d.—he then went away—afterwards Searle came in—my wife attended to him, and I came into the shop as he was going out—I went down to the police—I said "I suspect this is a trick"—Watts came in a second time and said that he would leave us a price list, and my wife handed me this order (produced)—I
said I could scarcely understand it, and asked if he would read it—he said "Yes, so many laces at 2s. per dozen; I sell hundreds of gross of them"—I said, "If that is so, and this gentleman is coming for them, I suppose I must have this quantity"—it came to 1l. 18s.; these are the laces—I think it was two gross of brown ones, and eighteen dozen black ones—I gave him 2l., and he gave me 2s. change—I sent for the police so that I could see whether they were really what he said—I should think the actual value of the laces is not more than 5s. or 6s.—I had only been in the shop a week.
Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. I kept a seed business once—Watts had a pony and cart with him, which he left standing outside—I did not go out and look in the cart—there was a good deal to throw me off my guard——I had the laces on the strength of the order—the two prisoners were never in the shop together—something was said about taking back two dozen over and above what the order stated if I did not sell them—I have not counted how many there are in a bundle—they are gross bundles—I did not examine them at the time—soon after the policeman came I said "I will examine them"—that was about 10 minutes after.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. When Searle came in the second time I was still in the back parlour—I had never seen them before—I went into the shop to see who it was—I did not see him have a bottle of ginger-beer.
Re-examined. I am positive as to Searle's identity—I did not see him till next morning, when I was with my wife, going into Lambeth police-court—when Watts was up for examination I recognised him—Watte represented the laces to be mohair, and the order states so.
HANNAH CHANCE . I am the wife of the last witness—on the afternoon of 18th July Searle came in and asked for a skin of blacking—I served him—he then asked for some boot-laces—I showed him some—he said they were not the ones he wanted, and he showed me some brown ones as a pattern—he bought one pair for a halfpenny and went away—presently Watts came up in a cart and asked if I wanted any haberdashery—I asked him if he had any laces; he showed me some brown ones—I called my husband, and they had some conversation, and he bought some brown ones—Searle came in again and asked me if I had any brown laces, and I said, "Only these short leather ones"—he said, "Oh, you have some mohair; these will do, I will have three dozen of those"—I said, "I have only one dozen;"and he took those and paid me 10d. for them and for some ginger beer, and went away—Searle came back a third time, and asked me if I could get him any laces—he said he would have a few of the first lot—I counted him out three dozen halfpenny ones, and he said if I would put those by he would call presently and pay me, unless I could change a cheque—I said I could not, and he said he would come in again, and then he gave me an order, ready written, and asked if I could get those for him in a few hours—I said I did not think so, but I might the next day—he went away—afterwards Watts came back and brought a list, and my husband showed him this order, and said, "This is a long price, twopence a pair for laces; is this right? I can't quite make the order out"—he gave it to Watts, who said, "Yes, that is right, I sell hundreds of gross of these in London"—my husband said, "If that is so, I had better have them"—he charged us
1l. 18s. for them—the police were called in, and Watts was given in custody—I next saw Searle outside the Lambeth Police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. This is the order, in pencil—as for as I know, Searle left that between one and two o'clock—he then went put, and Watts came in five or six minutes afterwards—he had a pony cart with him—he was in the shop seven or eight minutes the first time—we bought the first lot because we wanted them, and the second because my husband thought it was a trick.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I had never seen Searle before—I do not swear to him now—he is a little different in appearance—I know that he was attending the police-court to appear as a witness in a summons case.
LOT WHITE (Policeman W 29). I was called to Chance's shop, where I saw Watts—Chance said, "I shall charge this man with haying defrauded me of 1l. 18s."—I said, "You hear what this man says?" he said, "Yes, that is my price"—I took him in custody—he had a trap outside; I searched it, and found laces similar to these, and toys, pencils and hosiery—the next morning Watts was taken before the Magistrate at Lambeth, where Chance pointed out Searle to me as the man who came in with the order—I said, "Have you any doubt about him?" he said, "None whatever"—I told Searle he would be charged with being concerned with Watts, already in oustody, in obtaining 1l. 18s. by false pretences from Mr. Chance—he said, "You have made a mistake, I know nothing about what you are talking about"—he was then charged.
Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. The cart is called a village cart—there was a name on it.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Searle did not say to me that he had been elsewhere that day—he said so before the Magistrate—he Wits remanded from that Court for an assault.
CHARLES MAY (Policeman W 132). I was assistant for twelve years to a draper—these black laces are cotton, made to imitate mohair, and are sold in the trade at about 1s. 6d. a gross—the brown ones are hemp laces, sold in the trade at about 2s. a gross.
Cross-examined by MR. RAVEN. I have been in the force eight or nine years—I was formerly in several general drapers' shops—these laces are too common for most shops—I don't know the distance from South Lambeth to Walworth.
GEORGE SAWYER . I live at 71, Warner Boad, Camberwell, and am a grocer's assistant—I formerly kept this shop—I let it to Mr. Chanoe.—I only know Watts by seeing him about—he never supplied me with goods by calling once a month.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. I know the South Lambeth Road, near the Clapham Road—from the bottom of Fentiman Boad to Walworth Police-station in about two miles.
WILLIAM CHANCE (Re-examined). I know East Street; I could walk from my shop to it in half an hour; my shop is only a minute's walk from Kennington Church—Searle had on a tweed coat when he came, and Watts had sand-shoes, which he also wore in the police-court—my shop is not in Fentiman Road: I have walked to East Street and can it in a quarter of an hour.
Witnesses for Searle.
Walworth, fruiterer—I have known Searle four or five years—I saw him at 11.30 a.m. on 18th July, and from that time he was minding my shop till 2.30; I then saw another man named Mitchell, a potman; I saw them leave the shop together, and go to the public-house—I saw Searle return between 5 and 6 o'clock, but not with Mitchell.
Cross-examined. I was first asked about this on Tuesday fortnight, when he was taken, and I was a witness for him before the Magistrate on the following Tuesday—I cannot say where my husband had gone the day Searle was at the shop—I spoke when Searle came into the shop; I said, "Do you mind minding the shop a little to-day?"—he said "Yes"—he usually came on Saturday and Sunday mornings about 1 o'clock—it was not unusual for him to come on a Monday morning—he will call sometimes with his clothes-bag—his business is going about buying old clothes—he would come and stop as long as he thought proper—he has not very often stopped from 11 till 2.30 because he has his business to do—I should say he went out to the Royal Albert between 2.2 and 52.30 with the potman—I have never seen Watts that I am aware, nor heard his name.
Re-examined. I was examined at the police-court on Tuesday a day or two after the occurrence I have spoken of—I have entrusted Searle with goods, and left him entirely in the shop when he has been minding it.
EDWARD MITCHELL . I am potman at the Royal Albert, next door to Mrs. Oakley—I saw Searle on 18th July sitting on the corner of the slab in Mr. Oakley's shop between 2.30 and 3, and invited him to come to the Royal Albert; he did so, and remained in my company nearly 10 minutes—there was no one else in our company—I went away, as I had to take three or four gallons of beer to a laundry, and I did not see Searle again—I left him in the bar at about 2.45—I do not know much about South Lambeth.
Cross-examined. I first saw Searle between 10 and 12 in the morning, when I was passing the shop—I might go round and gather a few cam at different places that have been left with customers; they might ham been left there a day or two before—I go to the laundry every day except Sunday—I got back to the Royal Albert shortly after 3 o'clock—I went into the same compartment where I left Searle, and did not see him—I know Mr. Hatton—I did not see him there that day—I am certain the house was open when I went back.
JAMES HATTON . I live at Chatham Street, Rodney Road, about 400 yards from the Royal Albert—I saw Searle there about 3 o'clock on the 18th—he remained there about three-quarters of an hour as near as possible—when I went in first Searle was in the private side, and he handed me over a glass of something and then came in the middle box where I was, and we stopped there—we parted outside the house; he said he was going to have his tea.
Cross-examined. That was about 3.45—I did not notice Mitchell in the house; he is the potman—I was spoken to about this matter the week after—I don't know Watts, and have never seen him.
Re-examined. I and Mitchell and Oakley were all examined before the Magistrate.
SEARLE received a good character.—
NOT GUILTY .
WATTS— GUILTY .**— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL
WILLIAM LAWRENCE (Policeman M 128). On the night of 30th June at 7.45 I was on duty in Jamaica Road—my attention was called by several persons to a mob with the prisoner in the middle of it—I went to the end of Salisbury Street, where I saw the prisoner in the act of striking a man—I asked him what he was doing, and told him to go away—he turned to me and said, "You b—sod, I will serve you the same." and ran at me like a bull and butted me; he entangled himself round my legs, which caused me to fall with great violence to the ground, and I injured my head and lost a great deal of blood; we struggled for some time on the ground, during which time I received numerous kicks on my back and different parts of my body; I continued to struggle with him, up and down, and he continued butting, and striking, and kicking for a distance of 60 yards, until I got the assistance of Policeman M 166—he was still very violent, and he butted and struck me twice in the constable's presence—when I got to the station I was unable to walk—I am ruptured on the left side of the stomach from the injuries I received—lie was very drunk.
Cross-examined. He was foaming at the mouth—there were about 100 persons round—I was in uniform on special duty—it is rather a turbulent neighbourhood—I had no opportunity of pulling him away because he butted me immediately—the mob followed all round, but no one helped me—my back was most tremendously kicked—I cannot describe how many injuries I received—I cannot tell exactly who kicked; I know the prisoner kicked me several times—a man took hold of him once or twice, but instead of assisting by holding him by his necktie he tried to untie it—when the constable came up I had drawn my truncheon, and I struck the prisoner and did the best I could to protect myself and disable him from assaulting me—my head bled very much on my way to the station.
Re-examined. I am certain he kicked me.
ROBERT BONNY . I am a butcher, of 174, Jamaica Road—I was at my shop door about 6.30 and saw the prisoner standing with several others; he was very quarrelsome for some time, and squared up to some of his companions—he subsequently came up to a stranger and pitched into him—the stranger went away and met a constable—when the constable tame up the prisoner ran up to him and butted him and knocked him down, and the mob got round—when he got up he was bleeding very much about the head, and was holding the prisoner by the collar—he tried to get away and struggled violently.
Cross-examined. There is always a crowd outside my shop—I dare say there was quite a hundred people round—I went out in the road and saw all that took place—when the constable went over, the prisoner ran at him like a bull at a gate—he appeared to be in a mad state of drunkenness—I should say he knew what he was about; he seemed all right when he sobered down a bit—there was a struggle for forty yards—I never saw a more fiendish attack in my life—I saw no one else kick the constable—I stood in front of him, and he said "Mr. Bonny, will you send to Rotherhithe for help"—I said "Somebody is gone"—he was exhausted and excited; he was then taken away to the station—I dare say there
were a few persons between me and the prisoner and policeman—I was not asked to go to the police-court—I said that night "If I am wanted I will willingly go," and after the matter was disposed of at the police-court I was asked to come.
WILLIAM CROSS (Police Sergeant M 166). I was off duty, proceeding to Deptford to see some friends, when my attention was called to a disturbance in Jamaica Road; I went there and saw the prisoner in Lawrence's custody, I caught hold of the prisoner, and he said "It is all right, sergeant, I will go with you"—I got him out of the crowd, and he went ten or twelve yards quietly, and then dropped down and caught hold of the constable's legs, who went backwards; I caught hold of him, and the prisoner gave him a kick in the groin—I held him back, and I said to Lawrence "Take out your stick if he won't go quiet," and with that the the prisoner struck him a blow in his face with his fist—I said to Lawrence "Strike him on the arm;" he did so, and the prisoner went quiet after that—he made no complaint at the station.
Cross-examined. About three or four hundred persons collected; not one helped the police; they were near enough to kick the constable; they are a rough lot in that neighbourhood—I did not examine the prisoner's boots; I don't know that he has the same boots on now that he had when taken; they appeared to be heavy.
BENJAMIN BROWNING , M.B.C.S. I am Divisional Surgeon of Police—on 30th June I examined M 128 at the station in an exhausted state; he had marks of kicks over the whole of his body, especially over the spine—he was not able to stand without support or to walk; he no doubt received a great number of kicks and blows—I have since ascertained that he is ruptured—his spine appeared so injured that I did not examine him as to any rupture then—he was almost as powerless and exhausted as he well could be; he was cut on his head; he complained of pain all over his body, but my attention was called more to his back—I have no doubt he complained of his stomach.
THOMAS EVANS . I am Surgeon of the M Division of Police—I examined Lawrence the day after he received his injuries, and found a bruise on—his back the size of an ordinary dinner-plate or somewhat larger; I did not notice other bruises; I saw a scalp wound—on my next visit he complained of his abdomen being tender, and on examining it I found he had sustained a rupture, which might have been caused by a blow.
Cross-examined. Hardly by a fall—I think there must have been some direct violence.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was blind drunk. I could not attack three men. I was at the corner of Jamaica Road when a man asked me for money for beer. I had none, and he insulted me, and we struggled and fell together. I was going quiet enough when he struck me on the arm and bruised me. I was quite exhausted, and they hit me in the face and cut my nose."
GUILTY **.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
The COURT ordered 20l. to be paid to Lawrence.
746. JOHN WALKER (38) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the, dwelling-house of George Bennett, and stealing a tablecloth his property; also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Francis Revell, and stealing therein five pairs of boots and other articles, having been conivicted of felony in January, 1872, in the name of Thomas Young .—
Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
747. THOMAS HALL (32) to stealing 17 trowels and other articles, the property of Joseph Wood, his master, having been convicted of felony at this Court in 1867, in the name of Hulstead .— Two Years' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
748. GEORGE SIMMONS (28) to stealing a scarf ring and other articles of Edward Nicholson, his master; also to stealing a pair of sleeve links and other articles of Thomas Pugh, his master.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Before Mr. Justice Lindley.
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS . Prosecuted; MR. CROOME. Defended. CAROLINE BUNN. I am the wife of Henry Bunn, of Great Suffolk Street—the prisoner and his wife lodged with us; she has lived there five years, and she married the prisoner last September—on the Saturday before Christmas Day I heard a scream, and afterwards saw bruises on her—I have not seen him ill-use her, but I have seen the effects—I have spoken to him about it, and he said he was very sorry—on Whit Monday she had been ill for ten days; the prisoner came home that night between twelve and a quarter-past, and I heard him using abusive language, and then heard a heavy fall; I only heard one voice, as the woman could not speak above a whisper—I went on to the stairs and listened, but it was all quiet afterwards—I had seen her a few minutes before he came in; there were no marks on her face then, but she was very ill—I saw the prisoner going out next morning, and ran after him, and asked him if he was going to leave her again without anybody to look after her, or anything to eat; as if he did I should have to go some where; he said, "I will be back in five minutes;" I then went up and peeped through a crack of the door; she was sitting up in bed, and seemed quite out of her mind, playing with some papers—I sent for the relieving officer, went into the room with him, and found a bump, and a cut on the centre of her forehead, which was not there the night before—the prisoner came back about 4 p.m., and I told him he was to go to Dr. Matcham's, the relieving officer's, that day, or before ten the next morning, or he would be takes up and charged with cruelty and neglect—he said that he knew all about it, he should sell up the home and put her in the workhouse that afternoon, and I should not be charged for what he did to his wife—I took her before a Magistrate in a conveyance on the 10th, and she was afterwards taken to the infirmary—I saw her dead at the inquest—I never saw her drunk; she was a sober, hard-working woman, but the prisoner was very seldom sober.
Cross-examined. She had several attacks of illness, and was laid up for a time, and then got better; she had these attacks before she married him, and they continued afterwards—a medical man attended her, and I did a little nursing for her—the prisoner is a leather dresser; he used to work for a time, but did not do much; he drank very much indeed: he was very drunk on this night, when he came home over after twelve—I did not go into the room when I heard the fall—my husband was in the street at the time, but near enough for me to call to him.
HENRY BUNN . On the Saturday night before Christmas I heard cries of "Murder!" coming from the prisoner's room; I went into the room, and saw him striking his wife on her face with his fist—I said, "Charlie, what are you doing of?" he said, "Take this b—woman away from me, or I will kill her"—I saw him try to strike her with the poker eight or nine weeks before her death; I took it away from him.
Cross-examined. He was not sober on the Saturday before Christmas when he said that—I saw him strike her with his fist—he did not strike her with the poker, as I took it from him.
CHARLES GROSSE . I am medical superintendent of Newington Infirmary—the deceased was admitted there on the 10th June, quite out of her mind; I could not get anything out of her—there was a cut nearly healed over the right eye on her forehead, and several bruises on her legs and over her left buttock, and smaller bruises all over her body—she got better, and became a little more sensible the day before she died, which was on 24th June—I made a post-mortem, assisted by Dr. Matcham—the organs of the body were healthy, except the womb, where disease was commencing; the covering of the brain was adhering to the skullcap, especially on the right side, and the brain on that side was much softened, and contained a great deal of fluid—softening of the brain was the cause of death; I can't say whether that was from natural causes or not—continual ill-treatment of a person in bad health will accelerate death—Dr. Matcham saw her earlier than I did, and knows more about it—I had not seen her before she was admitted.
Cross-examined. The disease of the womb might act on the brain; if it lasted long enough it would be one of the effects producing the softening of the brain; I do not think it had existed many months—it it impossible for me to say whether the softening of the brain arose from natural causes, such as disease of the womb, or from ill-treatment—her age was about 46.
THOMAS PICKLES . (Police Inspector M). On 8th June, about 11 a.m., I saw the prisoner at the Believing Officer's, 55, Blackman Street, Borough—he said, "You want me"—I took no notice—he said, "I know you want me to go to the police-station with you"—I said, "Yes," and told him he would be charged with assaulting his wife, and endangering her life—he made no reply.
DR. MATCHEM, being called, did not appear.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
JAMES TURNER . I am a labourer, of 72, Grant Road, Clapham Junction—on 29th July I was with Savage at Rusham Road, Battersea, at my dinner time, 12.45; I worked not 50 yards off; we were in a field cutting some turf for some larks which I have at home; I saw the prisoner going through a fence with some cows; I had seen him with gun that morning, and after he had gone with the cows I saw him over the fence; he said, "You b, if you are not off I will shoot you," and
he had no sooner said the words than he fired, and the shots went all over me, on my head, behind my left ear, my left arm, and on my thighs, and on my back—I have been attended by Mr. Woodward and another surgeon.
Cross-examined. I don't know whether he was shooting birds when I first saw him, but he had a gun with him; that was about 11 o'olock—I have been told that there is an orchard there—it was not his field that I took the turf from—nobody pave me permission to out turf, it is an open road for building—Frederick Mann was standing outside the fence, it might be 10 yards from me—he did not say anything about pulling down a fence, nor did he say, "You can get through here into the orchard"—I was not more than 30 yards from the prisoner when he shot me—this was last Thursday, I have not been to work since.
Re-examined. I am lame now—I have some shots in my legs and body still, and the doctor has some.
GEORGE SAVAGE . I live at Livingstone Road, Clapham Junction, and am a bricklayer—I was with Turner on 29th July, and saw him cutting some turf—the prisoner drove some cows in, and he said, "If you b—aren't off out of here I will shoot you," and he had no sooner said that than he fired and hit me in my legs and head and hand—I had seen him between 10 and 11 that morning with a gun in his hand.
Cross-examined. The cows are there every day; he and his boy attend to them—I have never been in the orchard—I was over 30 yards from the fence—Mann said, "Somebody has been cutting down the fence," but he said nothing about breaking down a hurdle—I was not near enough to see if there was a hurdle where the fence was broken—we went through a gap into the field, but that was not near the orchard—the field is fenced for about 10 yards, and there is a hedge and a gap—we went by the footpath—I ran away after the gun was fired—Mann was not in the line of fire.
Re-examined. The cows were in the field which Turner was cutting the turf from—there is a gap in the hedge, and we went through it.
FREDERICK MANN . I live at Shirley Grove, Lavender Hill—on 29th July I was with Turner and Savage, and saw the prisoner go through the fence with the cows at a quarter to 1—I heard him say, "You b—, if you are not off this place I will shoot you," and almost immediately, before he got the word "shoot" out, he fired.
Cross-examined. I was taking a walk around the field with the other workmen—there were seven of us—we did not all go through the gap, the field was open at the other end—the gap was not protected by a hurdle—the prisoner had, I should think, 30 cows in the field—I was about 35 yards from him when he was standing in his garden, or orchard, and fired—the hedge which runs round his garden has a gap in it which is protected by a hurdle—I was about 50 yards from the hurdle when I saw him with the gun—I walked nearer to him—he was about 20 yards from the hurdle when he fired—I did not speak to him or take any notice of him—nobody gave me permission to go into the field.
Re-examined. There are building operations going on all round, and the fences are in disorder, so that you can get through almost anywhere—the other men got into the field where it is not fenced in—I often go into the field at dinner time, and sit down—I have never been molested or told not to go there.
GEORGE WOODWARD . I am a surgeon of Upper Tooting—I saw Turner and Savage at Wandsworth Common Police-station—Turner had twenty, shot marks on his body and legs; I extracted three shots, they were not dangerous wounds, but he might have been killed if he had been closer—the shot were sent well home, and imbedded in the muscles; some of them are past detection—they are No. 6 shot—Savage had six shots, two in his thighs, two in his heels, and two in his head—a rifle gives more force than a gun—Savage was able to go to work next day.
ROBERT EASTON . (Policeman). I took the prisoner and charged him with shooting Turner and Savage; he said "I done it because they were breaking down my fences to get into my orchard;" I went back and found this rifle (produced). in the summer-house.
Cross-examined. He told me at the station that the gun was in the summer-house—he did not look alarmed when he saw me.
Witness for the Defence.
GEORGE HOLMES . I live at the Bloomwood Estate with my father and mother—the prisoner used to fire off a gun there without shot, to frighten birds away, and he had fired it on this morning without shot—after that I saw it in the summer-house, took it up, and loaded it once or twice with powder, without shot, and fired it, and then I loaded it with powder and shot, and did not see any birds, and I left it in the summer-house—I did not toll the prisoner I had loaded it with shot, as he went away to look after his cows.
Cross-examined. I bought the shot, and kept them in my pocket—the prisoner never fired with shot; he never shot the birds—he has been very much annoyed by persons coming to take his apples—I have never seen the workmen get into that field from the buildings; the field is not open at the end, it is closed all the way round; there is no gap by the footpath, but there is one by the gate.
Re-examined. They are accustomed to trespass in the field; they go through the gap.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY. of unlawfully wounding . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Two Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PURCELL. Prosecuted.
LOUISA LANE . I am a widow, and live at Peckham—on 12th June, about 12 p.m., I was going home, returning from my daughter's, and saw the prisoner at my gate—I heard a noise like taking a cork from a bottle, and he said "Take that" three times; "I know that is spoilt"—he was close to me; I saw a bottle in his hand—it took my breath as it went over me, and I put up my umbrella to save my face—it went all over me, from the collar of my jacket, over my dress, gloves, and umbrella—when I went inside I found my jacket and umbrella wet—I informed the police next morning, and gave the prisoner in charge in the evening—he has been a lodger of mine, but has left twelve months or more—I have been a widow four years, and he wanted me to live with him, but I refused—he has asked me lots of times—he said my children should suffer, for it, for they should find me stiff at their feet—he had said that a few weeks before, and has said it more than once.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. My daughter came by rail—I met her at Broad Street station at 3 p.m.—I went to her house in the evening; it was not 12.30 when I got to my gate—you have persecuted me by your threats that my daughter should find me stiff at her feet—I did not speak to you at my gate—I did not offer to hit you with my umbrella, nor had you to ward off the blow—I did not charge you at once because my mother did not wish me to go out again—I knew where you lived—I have been there; I was bound to go because you would watch my mother's house if I did not—you have watched pretty well every house I have had, yet you took me to your lodgings on the Saturday previous, or else I should not have gone—I never went there by myself, except when you took me; only on one Sunday evening when you told me to come, and your niece began to quarrel; they were all drunk—my brother's wife asked you to settle a question between me and her—she said that I kept a brothel, but I never did—I told the inspector you had thrown vitriol. ever me—I have always spoken a good word for you on account of your being kind to my boy when he lay bad, and I shall ever say it.
Re-examined. This is my jacket and umbrella—it was not a rainy night, but I had my hand inside my umbrella, and put it up to save myself.
GEORE ETHERIDGE . I am a surgeon, of Queen's Road, Peckham—on 23rd June I examined this jacket and umbrella, and found marks of strong corrosive fluid—I have since tested them, and come to the conclusion that it is hydrochloric acid or spirits of salts—if it had fallen on her face it would have burnt her flesh, and it might have caused blindness.
Cross-examined. You said something about it being spirits of salts; I did not then know that you were the prisoner—it is used by plumbers for cleaning zinc—I was not asked to examine your coat.
JOHN JARMAN . (Detective P). I took the prisoner and told him he would be charged with throwing corrosive fluid over Louisa Lane; he said "No, I think you are mistaken"—on the way to the station he said "I did it for the purpose of keeping the umbrella out of my eyes," and he said the same at the station, but after the charge was read over he said "I deny it."
Cross-examined. I did not hear the inspector call you a liar.
FREDERICK FORTH . (Police Inspector P). The prisoner said at the station "It was not vitriol, it was spirits of salts. I had the bottle in my hand; I bought it for a man to mend some zinc gutters with."
Witness for the Defence.
MRS. TURNER. The prisoner took my lodgings and said he was a married man, and on the Monday his wife, as supposed her to be, came and looked to see what sort of lodgings he had; she stopped so long that I told my son I did not approve of it—the prisoner used to wait at the door for her to come and see him, and sometimes she came of her own accord; and on the Saturday night before that she was with him up to 10 or 11 o'clock in his bedroom—he generally went out and fetched refreshments for her, a little port-wine and pastry—he always conducted himself well.
The prisoner produced a written defence stating that he had the bottle of spirits in his pocket, and the warmth of his body caused the cork to blow out;
that he then made a paper cork, and when he spoke to the prosecutrix the lifted up her umbrella to strike him, and he put up his hands to save himself from the blow, and, having the bottle in his hand, the spirit went over her. The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MCCLYMONT. Prosecuted; MR. HORACE AVORY. Defended. JESSE REEVES. I am head keeper of Wimbledon Common—on Sunday, 17th July, I was watching and saw a fire break out near the Windmill—I went towards it, and just as I got to it I saw another fire break out nearer Wimbledon; I ran on, and a third fire broke out about 75 yards nearer Wimbledon—I saw Mason standing there in plain clothes; we went farther down the furze; I sat down and watched, and Mason left me for a minute or two—I then saw the two prisoners working their way through some high furze direct from the previous fires and coming towards me—Mason rejoined me, and I called his attention to them—Grain worked his way through the furze to the other side of the clump, and stood there keeping watch; Deverell went into a large, high clump of furze, came out, and went into another, where he appeared to throw something into the bushes, and immediately rushed into the open, ran about twenty yards, and then stopped and looked back, but seeing no fire he again returned, slipped one foot into the furze, struck a light and threw it in, jumped back about two paces, and the fire blazed up—he then ran and rejoined Grain, who came out from the other side of the clump; they both walked rapidly away together, and I ran after them—Deverell looked round, saw me coming, and ran away into Mason's arms, who had gone round the bushes to intercept him—I ran back and caught Grain, and before I could speak to him he said "I know nothing about this man"—I said "That don't matter to me; you were coming with him through the furze, and you ran away with him"—he said "I admit I came from Waterloo with him this morning"—there were nine fires' that day, and about an acre and a half of furze was destroyed—it would have been much more but for the volunteers turning out and working hard to put it out—several trees were destroyed.
Cross-examined. The camp had been there seven days; this was the second Sunday; that is the favourite day for visitors—it was very hot, and the furze was very dry—we have had fires so often that without looking at my book I cannot tell you how many, but we have caught most of the men and convicted them—the road is thirty or forty yards from where the first fire was, and about the same distance from the other two—I sat down and saw the prisoners working their way through furze four or five feet high, but some of which is seven feet high; they were three or four yards apart, one behind the other—they were not twenty yards apart—I could not see what Deverell threw into the furze; I was about forty yards from him; I said he apparently threw something—I presumed he was trying to set fire to the furze—I ran towards him—I am sure there was nothing else in his hand—I saw no cigarettes—when the fire actually broke out they walked away together—Grain was ten or twelve yards off when the match was thrown on the Wandsworth side of the bush, but not out of Deverell's sight—I did not see either of them
with cigarettes, and there were no other persona near, but I daresay people were wandering all over the common.
Re-examined. I saw the prisoners come from where the first fire was to where the other fire was, one behind the other—if they had been smoking I must have seen it—I saw Deverell strike a light deliberately and throw it into the furze.
MASON (Policeman V 235). On 17th July I was on duty in plain clothes at Wimbledon Camp—I met Reeves, who asked me to come with him—he sat down on the edge of a gravel pit and I went away for a few minutes, and then came back and went round a clump of furze—I then saw Deverell go into the furze, but could not see what he did—he came out and ran away a little distance, and then returned and looked—I saw him return a third time and stoop down, and then the bush went into flames and he ran into my arms—he had no pipe, cigar, or cigarette—I said "I shall take you in custody for setting fire to the furze"—he said "All right"—I saw Reeves run after Grain—I searched both prisoners and found a box of fusees on each, and some cigarette papers and tobacco on Deverell.
Cross-examined. I was about 10 yards from Reeves, standing up in the furze, so that my head was visible above the top—there were bushes all round, but there was boarding on one side—it was a calm day—I did not see Grain till after the bush was in flames—they were walking side by side as the bush went into flames—I do not think they began to run till Beeves began to run.
GEORGE SKEATES . (Police Inspector 2). On 17th July I was on duty on Wimbledon Common—about 8,20 I laid down at the edge of a gravel pit, and saw Deverell about 40 yards from me behind a furze bush—he went about three paces and turned round, and immediately the bush sprang into flames—I saw Beeves run towards him—I ran the reverse way behind the bushes—Grain was standing 8 or 10 yards away, apparently watching while Deverell was in the bush—when I got round the bush I found Deverell in Mason's custody—I took hold of Grain and assisted in taking him to the station—he said "I know nothing of this man," but he afterwards said "I came from Waterloo with him this morning."
Cross-examined. Grain was 10 or 12 yards from Deverell when he came from behind the bush—Deverell did not run till Reeves began to run—I saw no match struck.
ROBERT WILLIAM GOODEN . I live at 10, Winthorpe Road, Putney, and am a booking clerk—on 17th July I was at the camp, saw a fire, ran to it, and saw Superintendent Dig by—while I was speaking to him another fire broke out 50 yards away; that was put out, and, as I was walking away, I saw Grain come through the furze, and saw another fire break out about 70 yards behind him—I ran towards it, and about the time I got half way to it I saw a fire break out at the spot I had seen Grain—the fires were both put out, and in a quarter of an hour another fire broke out, and just as it began to blaze up I saw Grain in charge, and said "You have got one of the right ones"—I had previously described him to Digby.
Cross-examined. Everybody seemed to keep away from the furze; I kept away because I would not be accused—any person in the furze would naturally be suspected—Grain was the only person I saw in the
furze, bar the volunteers, who were putting out the fires, and moat of them had flannel trousers on.
Re-examined, No one could have thrown a match from the high road to where the fire broke out.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH,.1881.