CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
NOTTAGE, MAYOR. FOURTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, February 2nd, 1885.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN defended Evelyn.
WILLIAM OLDHAMPSTEAD (City Detective). Prior to 17th December I received instructions from Hyams and Sons, tailors in Cannon Street, in consequence of which I watched their premises at 1 o'clock with Bryant—we saw Kyle leave and go to Evelyn's, 5, Cloth Fair, Smithfield, about 12 minutes' walk off, a small woollen and trimming shop, with windows back and front, so that you can see light through—just inside the passage on the left-hand side of the door is the shop, and looking down the shop on the right side in the back corner is a little office—any one in the office could not be observed from the street—Kyle went into the office, and I could not see what he was doing—he stayed 15 minutes the first day, and then came out and returned to Messrs. Hyams's—on the same day at 6 o'clock he went again to No. 5, Cloth Fair, and into the back office, where he stayed about 15 minutes—on the 18th I watched the premises again—Kyle went at 1 o'clock to No. 5, went into the small office, and stopped five minutes—at 6 o'clock on that day he met Evelyn and they had a conversation right opposite Evelyn's shop, and I saw something pass from him to Evelyn, and I heard Evelyn say, "We must both be careful, good night"—I passed them a third time that afternoon—on 19th December I again watched the premises at 1 and 6 o'clock, and Kyle went to 5, Cloth Fair to the back of the shop out of sight, remained a short time, and came out—the same thing happened on the 22nd, 23rd, 24th, and 29th, and Bryant observed it on the 30th and 31st—on 1st January I was watching, and stopped Kyle after he left the warehouse and had some conversation with him, took from his pocket two pieces of Italian cloth, and left him with Osborne, who took him to
the station, and I then went to Evelyn's premises in Cloth Fair, called him outside, and told him we were police-officers, that we had got a person in custody named Kyle for robbing his employers, Messrs. Hyams and Co.—Hardy and Osborne were with me—I said, "He has made a statement that he has brought the Italian cloth here to you, and you have received it every day; have you any now?"—he said at first "No," and then paused a minute, "No, I don't think I have," and then he went inside to see—before doing so I said, "Do you know where he is employed?"—he said, "Yes, at Messrs. Hyams's in Cannon Street"—I said, "We shall have to go inside and see if you have anything"—I went inside with Hardy and Osborne and Evelyn, and the latter handed me two pieces of Italian cloth, which he said he had bought from Kyle on the previous evening—I said Kyle had made a statement that he had been bringing the whole of it there, all that he had stolen, which was twice a day—Evelyn said he acknowledged that he had received it, but that he did not steal it—he was taken to the station and formally charged—I searched the premises—there was a small roll of cloth and several short pieces in the window, and a number of large parcels round the shop, which we found to contain waste paper, dummy parcels—I also found one or two bills and one or two invoices which had been paid—that was all there—when charged at the station he only said that he had received the goods, but that he did not know they were stolen—the next morning at the station I showed Kyle in Evelyn's presence the two pieces of cloth—Kyle said he had taken them to him the night previous, and Evelyn said, "Yes, it is quite right"—Kyle said, "I have taken it all to Evelyn, and Evelyn knows how I got it."
Cross-examined. Several little short pieces of cloth were in the window exposed for sale, so that any one could see them from the street—about 3 1/2 to 4 yards long—I do not know that Kyle carries on a business himself—he lives in a private house—the firm are Jews, and shut up on Saturdays—Kyle is not a Jew—I have heard the prosecution say he does business at his own house on a Saturday—the stuff I saw in the window was woollen, not like this Italian cloth: it was about the same length as this—the little place at the back is under the staircase; it is his office where he makes out his invoices, I should judge—it is lighted from the shop; the partition is not up to the top—any person in the street who stopped and looked could see him going into the office—I do not suppose Evelyn knew I was there—a dozen people could stand in the office—Evelyn said, "I send my traveller out to sell it"—a man came into the shop while we were there, and he alluded to him as his traveller—he said he sold the cloth to small tailors—the traveller brought a bag in with him; I did not see at the time if there was anything in that, I took nothing out of it—I did not say at the Mansion House that I saw the traveller take two pieces of cloth out of it—I did not hear the prisoner say he gave so much per yard for the cloth, I understood him to say 1s. a piece—I did not take the conversation down—I am prepared to say that I did not hear him say "per yard."
Re-examined. It was not Saturday when I watched Kyle go to Evelyn's, and he was going from Hyams's premises, not his own.
JOHN BROWN (City Policeman 628). On the 17th, 18th, 19th, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, and up to 30th and 31st December, twice a day, at 1 and 6 o'clock, in company with the last witness, I watched Hyams and
Co.'s premises, and saw the prisoner leave them and enter Evelyn's shop, where he remained a short while and left—I corroborate Oldhampstead's evidence.
Cross-examined. I was never in the office, and cannot say how long it is. WILLIAM OSBORNE (City Detective). On 1st January I was with Old-hampstead, and arrested Kyle on a charge of larceny of cloth from Hyams and Co.'s, of Cannon Street—he handed me these two pieces of cloth—I was present next morning when Evelyn was brought up and shown the cloth in Kyle's presence—Oldhampstead said that Kyle had made a statement about being concerned with Evelyn—Kyle said, "Oh yes, I have been taking this cloth from my employer since last August almost daily, Evelyn has had it all, and knows where I got it"—I searched Evelyn, and found on him County Court and judgment summonses.
WILLIAM HARDY. I live at 46, Lorne Road, Finsbury Park, and am manager to Messrs. Hyams and Co. at 69, Cannon Street—Kyle was in their employment about 11 months—his wages were about 9s. a day—he worked on the top floor of the warehouse—there is a recess round the top floor where the goods are kept—he used to keep his coat and hat in the recess, and worked alone in a corner—I have identified these pieces of Italian cloth as my employers'—pieces of this description would be regularly served out to Kyle for lining the garments he was at work upon, and he would cut from the roll what he wanted—he was not allowed to remove any of it from the premises—in consequence of information I instructed Oldhampstead to watch Kyle on 17th December and following days, and on 1st January went to Thames Police-station and found Kyle in custody—he made a statement to me—subsequently Evelyn was brought, there—I went to Evelyn's premises in Cloth Fair with Oldhampstead and Osborne, and saw there two pieces of Italian cloth, which I identified as Messrs. Hyams's property—I think the total value of all this cloth is 15s. or 16s.—there are various qualities, it varies from 1s. 6d. to 2s. a yard.
Cross-examined. The price depends on the length—the average price of pieces 45 yards long would be 1s. 9d.; this piece would be 1s. 6d.—we have similar articles in our warehouse—there is no mark of ours on this—it may be made for every house in the trade; Italian cloth is a common article—these cloths would be about 2s. a yard; there is no fixed price for a remnant—remnants are valuable to us, we can use them up—they would be valuable to small tailors—I don't know anything about small tailors; we sell nothing to them.
CHARLES CAKEBREAD. I am in the employ of Hyams and Co., Cannon Street; I buy the trimmings—Kyle was their cutter at 9s. a day—in the course of business pieces of Italian cloth would be handed out to him, and he would cut off as much as he required for the garment and leave the rest in the piece—he worked on bespoke goods—he would not be allowed to remove any piece of Italian cloth from the premises.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ROBERT BANKS. I have been in business for myself as a wholesale warehouseman for the last nine years—I have known Evelyn for about 20 years; for about 12 years as a tradesman—I have done business with him—he is a piece-broker and trimming-seller; he buys pieces over the counter, remnants and odds and ends, from time to time, and sells to small tailors—as a rule, tailors are allowed to make up their own stuff
after hours for orders they have got hold of, and if with Jews they work for themselves on the sixth day and Sunday as well, many of them—I have sold Evelyn Italian cloth, and he owes me money now for some—a piece is 52 to 55 yards—I have sold him half-pieces and remnants, and all manner of lengths—I have been to his shop scores of times on business—I have seen Kyle bring remnants in and sell them to Evelyn before me—I saw nothing of going in a back closet, or anything of the kind—I should be glad to produce this Italian cloth for 1s. 5d. a yard in the piece—the length of a remnant is everything in regard to its price—I should think for these pieces, 3 or 3 1/4 yards long, Evelyn should have paid 1s. 1d. or 1s. 2d. a yard—it did not excite my suspicion seeing Kyle there—I saw nothing more than an ordinary sale going on.
Cross-examined. I am a tailor's warehouseman—I have no record of what Evelyn owes me—I keep books—I make out an invoice when I sell goods, and give a receipt for any money—I saw Kyle at Evelyn's about the beginning of December selling odds and ends of Italian cloth—he left something in the shop—sometimes I saw him paid and sometimes not—when Evelyn was not at home Kyle left them—I was there at 3, or 4. or 12, and at 1 and 6—I did not know Kyle was a tailor at Hyams's, it might perhaps have startled me if I had.
J. LUPTON. I am a manufacturer in the City, and have known Evelyn about eight years—I have purchased remnants of woollen cloth from him; he is a dealer in all kinds of remnants, including Italian cloth—I had dealt at the shop before Evelyn took it—it was the same class of shop then, where they buy and sell cloth over the counter; that has been a recognised business for 30 years, the length of my experience in London—I have seen Kyle transacting business with Evelyn in his shop; there was no concealment—I believe there were two or three policemen lodging in Evelyn's house at the same time.
Cross-examined. I am Evelyn's bail—when I saw Kyle in the shop I did not know he was a tailor at Hyams's.
ROBERT FLEMING FELL. I am a woollen agent—I was in the shop when the detectives came—Evelyn came in, and three men followed and insisted on seeing the stock—it was expos✗ed to them; it was ranged up and down the shop on shelves—they opened the goods and insisted on seeing the invoices, several of which were shown to them, and they found nothing in the place to excite suspicion—after searching the town traveller came in, Mercer, with a leather bag, which they wished to see—he opened it in Evelyn's presence—it contained two remnants of Italian cloth, which Hardy swore were Mr. Hyams's property—in the meantime a Mr. Aaron was endeavouring to sell Evelyn some goods from samples he had, and the police insisted on taking Aaron into custody, saying his goods had been stolen from the Government Stores, as they had the broad arrow on them, and they asked Evelyn to go to Snow Hill Station as a witness against Aaron, not as a prisoner—Aaron's explanation was afterwards found correct, and he was discharged and Evelyn was locked up—Evelyn invited the police to look in everyplace; he said "I have been here ten years and have had nothing against me before."
Cross-examined. The bailiffs were not in possession of the shop at this time; they had been the week previously, and had gone out—the police searched the premises and found nothing—there were brown paper parcels there and pattern books; I do not know of any ledgers there—he
produced some invoices—I am not aware he found any County Court summonses; there may have been some.
THOMAS HENRY MERCER. I have been employed by the prisoner for two years as traveller—I have taken out remnants of cloth of this description and gone round to small tailors—I have been in the woollen trade a great many years—I came in with a bag in my hand when the police were at the shop—Evelyn said "Have you anything in the bag?"—I said "Yes"—he took the bag up and placed it on the counter, and threw out what there was before the police—then Hardy said he could swear to it, that it belonged to his master—the police asked me where I sold the things and I told them the names and addresses of my customers as far as I could remember—I said my usual selling price for this was 1s. 6d.
Cross-examined. Evelyn kept no books, it was a ready-money trade—I took many goods out, and brought back the goods or money—Evelyn handed me the goods and told me the price, and I sold it to other tailors—Evelyn bought, I only sold.
EVELYN received a good character.— GUILTY. —Recommended to mercy by the Jury and prosecutor on account of his character.— Six Months' Hard labour each.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
FRANCIS FOLSHAM. I am assistant to James Fulsham, tobacconist, of 97, Lupus Street—on 12th January, about 11 pm., I fastened up the shop and went to bed, leaving everything safe below—I was called up by the police at 6 a.m., and found the side and front shop doors wide open; they had been closed the night before—the boxes and things, in the shop were all in confusion; thimbles, button-hooks, and lots of things were on the floor, and about 15l. had been taken out of two boxes, and button-hooks, tobacco-pouches, and boxes of hairpins and other goods—these (produced) are some of the things taken—I do not know either of the prisoners.
Cross examined by Lebe. We have goods like these—these have no private mark on them—I don't know if shops in the neighbourhood sell goods like these—these are not all the goods we lost.
WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman D 492). On 13th January, at 5.50, I was on duty in Lupus Street, and found the door of 97 open—I looked inside the shop, and found it all in disorder, and called up Miss Fulsham—the door had been forced open; the bottom bolt looked as if it had been forced off from the outside—I know neither of the prisoners.
PHILIP FIELD (Inspector D). On 13th January, about 1.15, I was in Cambridge Street, Pimlico, on duty, and saw the two prisoners there together going towards Lupus Street—they looked me and I them full in the face—they turned the corner and I lost sight of them—at 6 a.m. I received information and went to 97, Lupus Street, where I found the street-door had apparently been forced from the outside—on the morning of the 15th the prisoners were brought to Rochester Row Station, and I recognised them as the men I had seen on the morning of the 13th—they were changed then with loitering, and afterwards with breaking into Mr. Fulsham's house—they said nothing.
Cross-examined by Lebe. I asked you no questions.
Cross-examined by Murray. I met you under a lamp, and you both looked me full in the face, and I noticed small blotches on your face—I mentioned that when you were brought in, and that you were the two two men I had seen on the Monday night.
DANIEL BROWN (Sergeant B). On 15th January I went to 54, Paradise Street, Lambeth an address given by Lebe—I searched the back room on the ground floor, and there found these nine tobacco-pouches, six knives, two tobacco-boxes, and two fusee-boxes—I showed them to Lebe on the morning of the 22nd—he made no answer then—I went to 80, Cobourg Buildings, Westminster, the address given by Murray, the same day—I found nothing there—I found some keys on him, which he said belonged to the house-door; they did not fit it.
Cross-examined by Lebe. The room door at your place was open—I found the property in a box with a lot of paint-pots—I found no tobacco or cigarettes, nor money there, only the property produced—your land-lady said you kept very late hours and came home early in the morning, and that she did not know what you did for a living—she did not say you had a policeman to call you at 5 o'clock in the morning.
JOHN ROCKINGHAM (Policeman B 81). On 15th January, about 1.30 a.m., I saw the prisoners in the Vauxhall Bridge Road, in a doorway, and took them into custody for loitering—I had seen them together for three-quarters of an hour—I took them to the station.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Lebe says:"All I can say is, I was at home by 1 o'clock on this night, at Paradise Street. I went out at 9 o'clock next morning to look for employment, and as I was walking along the waterside I found the articles in a garden, in a white rag, the same as now. I took them home and came out again. These things were lying on the table when my wife came in and asked me what I was going to do with them; I said 'Put them in a box with the pots, there might be an owner for them.' I left them in the box." Murray says:"I was in bed on Monday, the 12th, from between 12.30 to a quarter to 8 next morning. I never saw the things before I saw them produced."
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAMES LEBE. I am Lebe's father—I am a house-painter and decorator, of 15, Bird Street, Vauxhall—my son does not live with me—on Saturday night, the 12th, at midnight, he left me and said he was going home—I don't know if he did—he lives at 62, Paradise Street, I think.
ANN MURRAY. I am Murray's mother—he lives with me and his father—on Monday, 12th January, he went out in the afternoon, and came home again to tea, and went out about 5 or 6 o'clock, and I saw no more of him till 12.30 or 12.45; I had just gone to bed, but he came into my room to fetch the lamp to go to his own room with—I always leave it burning for him—I was awake; I know the time by the public-house opposite; he came in just as it was closing.
Cross-examined. I said at the police-court I heard him come in, but I say now I saw him; he came and took the lamp—I first heard of the charge when the officers came to my house on Thursday the 16th—I could not recollect till they had gone what time he had come in on the Tuesday—on the Sunday, I think, he came in about 11.30; on the Saturday
he was in to supper with me at 12 o'clock, just after the house was closed.
Re-examined. He borrowed sixpence of me on the Tuesday evening.
Lebe, in his defence, stated that he had picked up the things by the waterside and put them in the box in case somebody should own them. Murray said that he first saw the property at Rochester Row, and that the only evidence against him was that of the inspector, who said he had seen him that night.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
CHARLES ROWES. I am a carpenter, of 60, College Place—on the 26th of December, about 8.10, I went into the Hospital public-house in the Pimlico Road, just opposite the College, and had a pint of beer, which Mr. Judge served me with—the prisoner and two women were in the same compartment, and no other men—they went out just before me—when I got outside I was pinned by two men from behind, and pulled back down on the pavement—a man, not the prisoner, got me by the throat, and stuck both hands into my throat so that I could not halloa or say anything, and one of the women pinned my legs—the prisoner, who I can swear to, tore my trousers down the leg, and tore my pocket clean out when I put my left hand to protect my pocket—I clasped his wrists when I found my purse was gone—the two women were holding on to me—I could not halloa—I saw my purse in the prisoner's hand, and tried to hold him—he put his feet on my wrist and nearly broke it—I was obliged to let him go—I followed him about 100 yards to where there were six or seven more men—there was a light where this occurred; you can see plainly—I afterwards went to Cottage Road station, made a complaint, and gave a description of a man—I received information and went to the station on the Tuesday after the 26th, and identified the prisoner from six or seven men—I went straight to him; I knew him at once—in this pocket I had two sovereigns, a half-sovereign, a half-crown, a florin, and some pawn-tickets—I had been paid 3l. 10s. on Christmas Eve at Her Majesty's Theatre, where I had been working.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were sitting in front of the fire at the public-house with the women—you were not turning an organ; the bar was not full of people—they took my evidence at Cottage Row—I was not drunk.
THOMAS WILSON (Detective B). I received information of this robbery on the 27th, and got a description of a man—I made inquiries, and on the night of 30th December went to 61, Carpenter Street, Battersea—the prisoner came into the house from the back yard; when he saw me he said "Good evening, Mr. Wilson, do you want me?"—I said "I do"—Sergeant Scott, who was with me, told the prisoner the charge was being concerned with other men and two women in stealing a purse containing 2l. 10s. in gold and 4s. 6d. silver and some pawn-tickets from a man named Charles Rowes in the Pimlico Road on the night of the 26th—he said "I am innocent, I was at home early that night; I left Mr. Judge's house about 6 o'clock, and arrived home about 7 o'clock; I was in Judge's when he gave us six pots of beer; an old College man brought his organ in, and I turned the handle; we had more beer; I left there
about 6 o'clock, and got home at 7 o'clock"—at the station when charged he said "I am quite innocent of it; I was in the tap house; I went in there about 11 o'clock; I stopped there till 6 p.m.; I came straight home, me and my wife"—Mr. Judge's is the tap house.
Cross-examined. I have known you for some years; you have only been charged with drunkenness once or twice—that is all I know about you.
SAMUEL JUDGE. I am landlord of the Hospital Tavern, Pimlico Road—on Friday night, 26th December, I saw the prosecutor in my house, and served him—the prisoner was in the same compartment—I cannot say if a woman was with him; I am not certain—I believe his wife was there during the evening, I am not certain if at the same time—I do not know what time the prosecutor left.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, asserted his innocence.
NOT GUILTY .
244. FREDERICK ALBERT GOULDSTONE (29) to embezzling the sums of 320l. and 415l., the moneys of John Richard Finlay and another, his masters; also to wilfully and with intent to defraud omitting certain particulars from his masters' books.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
245. JAMES SMITH (21) to breaking and entering St. Thomas's Mission Church with intent to steal therein; also to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Ormerod Dearden, and stealing therein a watch, other articles, and 2s. 7d.; also to breaking and entering the North Finchley Baptist Chapel, and stealing a clock and other goods of Charles Wilkes and others, the trustees, after a conviction of felony in October, 1883, in the name of John Smith.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 2nd, 1885.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and CRANSTOUN Prosecuted.
SARAH EMMA KING. I live with my husband at 1, Warwick Place, ✗Ealing—I know the prisoners by sight—on 2nd January Flynn, the one with crutches, came in and asked for twopennyworth of corned beef—I said that I did not sell it—he said "I will take a piece of cheese"—I served him; he gave me a shilling—I put it in the till, where there were no other shillings, and gave him a sixpence and 4d. in coppers—about 10 minutes afterwards Johnson came in for some cough drops, which came to 1/2 d.—I rolled them up in a piece of an old almanack—he gave me this shilling, and I gave him a sixpence and 5 1/2 d.—I took the shilling to my husband, who went out and followed the prisoners—I afterwards handed the two shillings to Detective Clany.
brought me this shilling—I found it was bad, and partly bent it with my teeth—I kept it in my hand, went out, and met both the prisoners in the road, about 100 yards from my place—they stopped me and asked me to come—I followed them and saw Johnson go into Mrs. Stephens's shop—Flynn went straight across Ealing Common to Acton—when Johnson came out I went in and spoke to Mrs. Stephens, who showed me this bad shilling—I followed Johnson towards Acton; he overtook Flynn—I met a gentleman in a trap and got him to take me to the police-station—we went close behind the prisoners—I gave information to Cluny and we followed them to the London station, where Cluny took them—Johnson said "I might have come into your place and passed the shilling, but if it is bad I must have had it given to me."
MARY STEPHENS. My husband lives at 16, St. Matthew's Road, Ealing—we keep a general shop—on Friday evening, 2nd January, Flynn came in for twopenny worth of cheese; he gave me this shilling—I gave him a sixpence and 4d., and put it in the till, where there was no other shilling—I went into my back room and heard somebody talking in the shop about a quarter of an hour afterwards; it was Mr. King, and my stepdaughter produced another shilling which she had received, and showed Mr. King, who bent it in my presence—I marked both coins and gave them to Detective Cluny.
ELIZA STEPHENS. I am the stepdaughter of last witness—on 2nd February, about 8 p.m., I was serving in the shop; Johnson came in for a pennyworth of cough-drops, and gave me a shilling—I gave him elevenpence in coppers, and put the shillings into the till, where there were two half-crowns and one or two shillings—Johnson went out—Mr. King came in, and in consequence of what he said I looked in the till and found the shilling which I had taken from Johnson was bad—I knew it because I had left it on the top of the other money—I gave it to Mr. King; this is it.
SAMUEL CLUNY (Detective Officer X). On January 2nd, about 7.30 p.m., Mr. King pointed out the two prisoners to me—I followed them with Miller to High Street, Acton—they went into the London and North-Western Railway Station, and Johnson was about to take a ticket—I took hold of them and told them I should take them for uttering a counterfeit shilling to Mr. King—I took them into the waiting-room, and on Johnson found 9s. 6d. in good silver, 2s. 3d. in bronze, a halfpenny-worth of sweets, and twopennyworth of cheese—he said to Mr. King "I recollect going into your shop, but if I passed that shilling some one must have given it to me"—Flynn said "Hold your tongue"—I took them in a cab to Ealing station—the inspector asked their names, which they gave, but when he asked their addresses they each said "I have not any."
WILLIAM MILLER (Police Sergeant X 242). I took Flynn and told him the charge; he made no answer—I found on him a good sixpence, four-pence, two thimbles, a pocket-book, and a penny packet of stationery.
WILLIAM T. WEBSTER. I am Examiner of Coins to the Mint—these shillings are both bad, and from different moulds—these two from Stephens are bad, and from the same mould; neither of these is from the mould of this uttered to King.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Flynn says:"I picked the money up and was not aware it was bad. I was seeking employment
at the time, and in the evening I used the money to get some supper. I never knew Johnson before." Johnson says: "I met Flynn in Ealing and asked him for a match; I told him I was going to Brentford. He gave me a shilling or two of his money; I did not know whether it was bad or not. I never saw this chap before in my life."
GUILTY. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and LLOYD Prosecuted.
ELEANOR RENDLE. I keep the Eleanor beerhouse, South Hornsey—on 7th January, about 5.30, the prisoner came in for half a pint of ale and put down a half-sovereign—I said, "Have you any loose change?"—he said "No"—I gave the half-sovereign to the potman—he went out, came back in two minutes, and gave me the change, and I then gave the prisoner two florins, five single shillings, a sixpence, and 5d.—Mr. Smith, my manager, was present—the prisoner then pulled out a shilling from another pocket, laid it on the counter, and asked me to change it—he said, "Give me sixpence for sixpenny worth of coppers, please"—I then recognised him as having given me a bad shilling four months ago—Mr. Smith said, "Yes, I'll give you change, this is some of your old games," and took it up and bit it in two pieces, nearly in half; it fell on the counter, and one half was nearly rolled up—the prisoner picked them up and put his hand to his mouth—I said, "Don't swallow those pieces"—he said, "I am trying the rest of my money, I will go across the road and tell them of it"—Mr. Smith said, "No, I'll go," and jumped over the counter—the prisoner made a rush for the door, but it was bolted—he said, "I am not going to mess about here," and rushed at the other door and did a bolt.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can swear that the shilling which will be produced is not the one Mr. Smith broke—your shilling was broken in two and rolled up—a good shilling would not break like that—the shilling Mr. Smith brought laid flat, and this one was rolled up—it was early in October that you gave me the first shilling—I do not remember your calling early in December and my giving you a tea-kettle to mend and paying you 4d.—I had a kettle mended, but you did not do it—I have seen the man who mended it since—he must have been a friend of yours, for I saw his wife with your wife, and that is how you know about the kettle—you never did any work for me whatever—the first shilling you gave me was burnt about a fortnight ago, and I have a witness who saw me burn it—when you came the second time I said to Mr. Smith, "That man has passed a bad shilling, you had better give him change"—I was too artful to give you change that time—the shilling I gave you was good—I did not know till I was at the police-court that you had sent a shilling out of the House of Detention—Mr. Smith did not break a good shilling, he knows them too well.
By the COURT. Mr. Smith put the pieces on the counter, and the prisoner picked them up, put them towards his mouth, turned his back to me, and I did not see them again—I knew that the half-sovereign was good, but I would not give him change because I recognised him—I thought I would send for it so that I should have a witness.
about 5.30, I came home and saw the Prisoner there—the Potman had gone out for change—he came back and gave it to Mrs.Rendle, and I saw her give it to the prisoner—I noticed that it was all good—the prisoner put his hand to his left trousers pocket, and then to his right, while the change was lying on the counter—I saw something in the palm of his hand—he picked up the change, dropping a shilling and asked for a sixpence and sixpenny worth of coppers—I put the shilling to my teeth and broke it in half easily, and one half doubled up—I placed them on the counter and said, "This is your old game"—he said, "I'll go over and tell them of it," and made for the door—I said, "You need not trouble, I'll go," and jumped over the counter and stopped him—I saw him putting his hand to his mouth, and Mrs.Rendle said, "Don't swallow those pieces"—he said, "I am not swallowing them, I am trying the other money to see if it is good"—he made for the door, but it was bolted—I stopped him, and sent the potman for a policeman—he was gone so long that I went outside myself, and while I was outside the prisoner stepped behind me and went down the court—I followed him with a constable, who took him—he gave his address, 2, Sandford Lane, Stoke Newington, and began to run, but I kept him in sight till I gave him in charge—the pieces of a shilling produced are not the pieces I broke—I have tried to break them with my teeth and could not—the one I broke was very soft and gritty, and these pieces are hard and not gritty-this piece has been stained.
Cross-examined. Part of the one I broke was turned over double—I should not have sworn that this was the same if this had been a bad one—I go by the way it is broken, and swear this is not the one—I threw the shilling on the counter to show you the pieces, and you did not give me the chance of keeping them.
JAMES SMITH (Policeman N 648). Mr.Smith gave the prisoner into my custody about 100 yards from Mrs. Rendle's—he was running, and Mr. Smith had stopped him and told me in his hearing that he believed he had swallowed a shilling—he said "I never swallowed any shilling, I never had any bad money on me"—I took him to the station—Mr.Smith said that he had broken the prisoner's shilling in half, as near as possible, and one half bent up—the prisoner said it was not bad money that he put on the counter, and denied having any broken coin or bad money—I found on him two florins, five shillings, a sixpence and a half crown—the inspector asked him if he had swallowed any money; he said that he had not, and that he had no place of aboae; but afterwards he said he lived at 2, Stamford Lane, that is not correct—the inspector at Clerkenwell Prison gave to me this broken shilling—I said to the prisoner "How did you come to swallow this shilling?"—he said "I was rather excited when I swallowed it"—I said "Do you mean to say that shilling has been in you ever since?"—he said "Yes."
Cross-examined. You did not resist when I took you—I took no bad money from you—I did not know that the broken shilling was good when the inspector gave it to me at Clerkenwell, not till I opened the envelope before the Magistrate—I did not say to you "This is a good shilling; you might as well have spoken the truth at first."
WILLIAM ENGLAND . I am Warder at the House of Detention—on the 20th of January I was called to the prisoner's cell—he rang his bell about 6.30 p.m. and said that he had saved his motion, and this was what he
found in it, producing the largest part of a shilling he said he was charged with uttering—he afterwards produced the other bit from the soil—I told him to wash them, which he did, and I afterwards took them from him—these are the same pieces—they were, I believe, sent to the Clerkenwell Police-court—he found the second piece while I was standing in the cell.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These are the pieces of a good shilling; a bad coin can ho broken with the teeth, and I have heard of a good one being broken so, but it requires great leverage—this coin may have been wrenched—it is a jagged break—I cannot say whether it could have been broken with the teeth, but it is so perfectly flat that I doubt it being in the teeth at all.
Cross-examined. It would be possible to break it with the teeth if it had a flaw in it, but this shilling has no flaw.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that the shilling he gave Mrs. Rendle was one of those which she gave to him, and that when the manager broke it he picked up the pieces and swallowed them being over excited, and that the shilling which passed from him was the same, which was the reason he called attention to it.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of a like offence at this Court in January, 1881, in the name of Charles Newton.— Five Years Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, February 3rd, 1885.
249. EDWARD JOHN MOODIE (35), was indicted for a common assault on Alfred Wilkinson. Other Counts, for using violence to him and intimidating him, in order to compel him not to work at his trade. Other Counts, for watching and besetting the house where he was employed, in order to intimidate him and others.
ALFRED WILKINSON . I am a compositor in the employ of Messr. Abraham Kingdon and Co., printers and publishers, 52, Little Moorfields—last Friday week, 22nd Jan, about 2 o'clock in the day, I was in the street, going into Mr.Kingdon's premises—I saw the prisoner at the corner of Moortields, at the side of Mr.Kingdon's premises—I spoke to him first, and asked if he was the man that sent me away to Manchester two years ago—he said he was—I told him that ho had sent me away under false pretences—we had a few words—he said ho would get me a memorandum—he paid I could please myself whether I went in or not, and I went in to work at Messrs. Kingdon's—I came out again about 4 o'clock and went into the Bull and Bell public-house just by, about 20 yards off—I waited there about 20 minutes, then the prisoner and several more came in—he said I had better get out—I said I had as much right as he to stay there, it was, a publi bar—ho said if I didn't get out he would dash my brains out—after that I went out—later on in the evening, a little after 7 o'clock, I went into the public-house again; the prisoner came in, he repeated the same language, that he would dash my brains out if I didn't get out—he said he was not fool enough to do it himself, he might get three months for it but he would get some one else to do it for him—he left the house
for a short time then, and returned in about half an hour—he said "Are you here still? if you don't get out I shall do what I said, I shall dash your brains out"—he took me by the shoulders with both his hands, pushed me out of the door, and hit me on the side of the head with his fist and knocked my hat off; it was a pretty keen blow—upon that I went across the road into Messrs. Kingdon's premises, and just before I went in somebody hit me behind; I can't say whether it was he or not, he was shouting out at the time—I was knocked down, I got up and ran into Messrs. Kingdon's premises—I saw Mr. Abraham Kingdon and he came out into the street with me shortly afterwards—I saw the prisoner two or three yards from the premises in custody of a policeman—at the station he called me a scoundrel and all that sort of thing, and he called Mr.Kingdon a thief, and said he would ruin his business.
Cross-examined. When I saw him in custody I was asked if he was the man that had assaulted me, I said "Yes"—Mr. Kingdon brought me out of the hat shop, where I had been to buy a new hat—when I accused the prisoner of being the man who had sent me to Manchester under false pretences there was pretty strong language on both sides—he said I might please myself about going to Kingdon's; he didn't exactly interfere with my going there; he said I should regret my going, and I did go and worked for a couple of hours; I then asked leave to go and get my pay from my former employer—I had got my money in the morning, but I said that in order to go out into the Bull and Bell—I was not aware there was any strike taking place, nor was I when I went to Manchester—I got 1l. and my fare paid—that was with respect to Messrs. Head and Mark's—there was not a similar case with regard to Morley's—I am not a loafer, I am a workman—I went away at Waterlow's, but I never got anything there—I told the men I was a machine-minder, and they said they had telegraphed to Manchester and found it wasn't true—I wasn't expelled from the Society, I left and tore my card up; they told me to he off and I did walk off—Mark's case was some little time after that—I told the manager at Kingdon's that I didn't feel comfortable, and he said I had had too much Perkins; I said I might have had—it was after that I went into the Bull and Bell—the row didn't begin then—they didn't complain to the landlord about me—I went for a policeman to save any trouble—I was trying to get away—I wasn't drunk, far from being drunk—I don't admit that I had had too much Perkins, I wasn't quite compos—I stayed there for about an hour and a half waiting for a friend to come in named Young; he came in with the prisoner and several more—when the prisoner said he would dash my brains out I did not say "You had better try," I said "Don't be a fool"—I didn't fancy he could do it.
Re-examined. I had not been a member of the London Society; they gave me a card to go away to Manchester, and told me I should be recognised by the Manchester Society, but I was not—this was the first day I had been employed at Kingdon's—there was a dispute at Head and Mark's, something similar to what has taken place now—there were people waiting outside Head and Mark's—there was a row there, and the prisoner was waiting outside and a number of others as well—I was not drunk on this day, I understood perfectly well what was going on—I
was in a state of fear when I was struck by him; there was a number of others besides him, Society hands.
ELIZABETH BISH . I am the wife of Edwin Bish, a book-folder, 3l Bowling Green Lane, Clerkenwell—last Friday evening, about 8.30 I was in Messrs. Kingdon's warehouse—I heard a slight tapping at the window; I have always described it as a slight tapping—I did not say a violent tapping—I saw Wilkinson come running in without his hat; he was in an excited state—1 didn't see any marks on him.
Cross-examined. He seemed as if he had had some liquor; he was excited.
ABRAHAM KINGDON . I am in partnership with Charles William Cook as printers and publishers, 52, Little Moorfields—on Wednesday, 21st January, I discharged eight or nine men—we usually employ about 40 hands, including apprentices, machine minders, and boys—I discharged all the Society men; the prisoner amongst others—we advertised for non-society men to fill the vacancies—we got some, Wilkinson amongst them—he commenced to work for us—on Friday afternoon, January 23rd, I noticed men outside the premises during the day accosting the men who applied for work—I constantly saw the prisoner and his companions—I saw him constantly in the course of the Thursday and Friday walking up and down in the front of the place—every man who came in was laid hold of; he entered into conversation with the men, and also with Mr. Ball, the editor of a trade newspaper—I generally leave the premises at 5.30 or 6 o'clock; on this Friday afternoon I stayed later—I saw the prisoner in front of our place during the evening—about 8.30 I heard a noise outside, and Wilkinson rushed in without his hat rather excited followed by two women, who said he had been knocked down and badly served—I went out with him in a few minutes; I went to buy him a hat—the police were quite aware of what was going on, and they had the prisoner—I asked Wilkinson to point out the man who had assaulted him, and he pointed out the prisoner—he held up his clenched fist, and said to me "If that policeman wasn't here I would blacken your b——eye"—he also said he would have his eye on me, and see that I lost my business—I went to the station, when the prisoner was there in custody, and he called me a thief and a scoundrel, and made use of repeated threats—he said again he would have his eye on me, and that I would lose my business; he repeated that again and again.
Cross-examined. I only remember his working for me recently—he said he worked for me some time ago, but I don't remember him—I never endeavoured to induce him to go to America or Madagascar; nothing of the sort—I never was in Cape Town—I believe, as a rule, the Society is fair—I belonged to it at one time in 1867, 1868, and 1869—I left it in 1872—I left England to go to Madagascar—I did not try to get several men to go with me; none at all—I had employment to go to there—I didn't want hands there—I went there for the Society of Friends—I didn't ask anybody to go—I went outside with Wilkinson about three or four minutes after he came in—a policeman was outside; he was talking to the prisoner—he made a threat to me before I gave him in custody, in presence of the policeman—I did not know that he was then in custody—I gave him in custody on his making such a threat to me; Wilkinson was there at the time—I gave the men notice because they refused my
terms, which was to get things done on the piece—I wanted to make a change and they would not agree.
ERNEST KIDNER (City Policeman 163). Last Friday week, about 8 o'clock in the evening, I was on duty in Finsbury Pavement—I saw Mr.Kingdon in the street; he came to me, and said he wished to give a man in custody for assaulting one of his employes—I went with him, but the man was not to be found—about two or three minutes afterwards the prisoner appeared, and Mr. Kingdon said "That is the man I wish to give in custody"—as soon as he was taken in custody he commenced to use very violent and threatening language both to Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Kingdon—he said to Mr. Kingdon that he would smash all his face in if I had not been there—he did not do anything with his hands at that time to my knowledge; he was threatening Wilkinson in the same manner—he said he would do for him, and that he would smash his b——face in if I was not there—Mr.Kingdon said he would also charge him with intimidation—the prisoner said "lam here picketing, and I glory in the fact"—I took him to the station; he was very violent there, and used very violent and threatening language to Mr. Kingdon, Wilkinson, and myself; it was a repetition of what he had said before—he was so violent that he had to be removed from the dock while the charge was being taken—he said he would ruin Mr. Kingdon and his business.
Cross-examined. He was very angry, and he was very much under the influence of drink—I saw Wilkinson when he came to the station—I should say he was not drunk; he was excited, but certainly not drunk—I did not see the assault—the public-house is in Ropemaker Street, opposite Mr.Kingdon's; you can see the one place from the other when you are outside; it is only about 40 yards off.
HENKY WILLIAM JOLLY . I am a compositor, and live at 80, Gloucester Boad, Peckham—on Friday, the 23rd of January, I was in Messrs. Kingdon's employ—I was not then a member of the Union, I am now—I am not receiving pay from the Union on this day I was waiting outside Kingdon's warehouse about 2 o'clock for the purpose of going in to work—I saw the prisoner there—he came up to me in the usual way of things, and asked me whether I had had my card—I said "What is that to do with you?"—he said "It is something to do with me"—he said "This man will only play with you and make a convenience of you"—I said "How do you know that?"—he said "I know he will, you had better take up your card"—I said "I don't know; what can you do if I take up my card?"—he said "I will pay you your day's work and give you a free card"—I said "Will you?"—he said "Yes"—I crossed the road and said "Man to man, is to be the business"—he said "I can't guarantee you will get your day's pay"—I said "Then I can't have anything to do with you; I will go to my day's work"—that finished it up for about three hours—about 5.30 he came up to me as before and said, "This man is only going to make a convenience of you, he will pay just what he likes, 2d. and 3d., that will be the per," that is per hour—I said "Oh, don't you believe that"—he said "Well, how are you going to get it?"—I said "The same as other people; the same as I have had to get my money before."
Cross-examined. I didn't hear him use any threats or any violence, not the slightest; on the contrary, I saw him raise his hat to Mr.Kingdon three times in the most respectful manner.
CHARLES JOHN TARR . I am apprentice to Messrs. Kingdon—on the Thursday and Friday about 10 days ago I saw the prisoner outside the premises—I didn't count how many times; I saw him several times; he was simply walking up and down outside—I didn't see him speak to anybody—he spoke to me once; he requested me to go upstairs and speak to a gentleman that had just gone up, and tell him to come down and speak to him—I don't know who the gentleman was, he was a compositor.
Cross-examined. He didn't frighten mo at all; I didn't see anything to frighten me—he was behaving himself all right.
MR.HOPWOOD submitted that the evidence did not support the allegation of "besetting" and that although he could not deny the assault upon Wilkinson, il was a more personal matter, quite unconnected with the trade dispute MR. BESLEY also urged that the prosecution were bound to elect upon which count they would proceed. THE RECORDER left the case to the Jury.
GUILTY of a common assault.— To enter into his own recognisance in 20l. to keep the peace.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 3rd, 1885.
Before Mr.Common Serjeant.
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
WILLIAM BICKNELL . I am a butcher, of 36, Exmouth Street, Clerken-well—on the 3rd of January, about 10 a.m., I served the prisoner with a quarter of pound of suet, which came to 2d.—she put down a shilling—I put it into the tester, and it broke in two pieces—I did not use much force—I gave the pieces back to her, and told her it was bad—she said it was a shocking thing; it was given to her husband for a Christmas-box, and she was blind—she then gave me some coppers out of her handkerchief—she had about a shillingsworth tied up iu it—she said that was her landlady's money; and she must pay for it out of that—I spoke to Mr. West about this the same day—I was in Mr.Macklin's shop on the evening of the 14th of January, and made a communication to him—I saw the prisoner there, and said to her in his hearing, "You gave me a bad shilling about a fortnight ago"—she said "Yes, I know it was,"
ENOCH WEST . I am a baker, of 16, Tysoe Street, Clerkenwell—Mr. Bicknell made a communication to me last month, to the best of my knowledge, on the first Saturday in the new year—a few days previous to that I served the prisoner with a half-quartern of bread, price 2d.—she put down a bad florin—I picked it up and felt it was bad—it felt greasy, and different to a good one—I said "Are you aware this is a bad coin?"—she said "No"—I said "It is a bad one, and if I were you I should take it back to where I got it from as quickly as possible, and get it exchanged for a good one"—she said she had received it as alms—she said nothing about a Christmas-box.
WILLIAM MACKLIN. I am a corn-dealer, of 61, Exmouth Street, Clerkenwell—between 7 and 8 o'clock on the 14th of September the prisoner and another woman came in—the prisoner asked for half a pint of pearl barley—she first asked if I had any Nevill's bread—I said "No," and I then served her with the barley, which came to 1 1/2 d.—she put down this counterfeit shilling, and I gave her a 6d. and 4 1/2 d. change—the
moment she was gone I tested it and found it was bad—I sent my daughter after her, who brought her back—I said "What do you mean by giving me this coin?"—she said "What have I done?"—I said "You know well what you have done"—Mr. Bicknell then came in and said "That woman tendered me a bad coin eight or nine days since"—I sent for a constable, and she was given in custody with the coin—I have heard Mr. Bicknell's evidence, and agree with it.
CHARLES COLLINS (Policeman G 474). On 14th January I was called to Mr.Macklin's shop—the prisoner was in the shop, and Mr.Macklin charged her with uttering this counterfeit shilling (produced)—she said she did not know it was bad, it was given to her husband for a Christmas box—she was searched afterwards; nothing was found on her.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling is bad—a good shilling would not break easily—I have heard what the witness said about the florin feeling greasy; that is owing to the amount of pewter in it—a good coin would feel smooth owing to the circulation—it is also much lighter.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "The shilling I handed to Mr.Bicknell and the florin I passed to Mr.Weat were both good coins."
GUILTY . She was further charged with a conviction of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin in September, 1871.
EMMA SPENCER . I am female warder at Millbank Prison—I produce a certificate. (This certified the conviction of Caroline Williams at this Court on 18th September, 1871, of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, and her sentence to two years1 imprisonment.) She was under my charge at the City Prison, Holloway—I saw her daily—the prisoner is the person—after she came out of prison the Chaplain sent her to Nottingham to her brother's—I saw her off.
GUILTY.**— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MR. LLOYD Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH PALLET . I am barmaid at the Fountain Tavern, Minories—on 10th January, about 10.30 p.m., I served Cole with a pint of ale, price 2d.—he tendered a sixpence—I told him it was bad—I tried it with my teeth, and they sank into it—he said it was not bad, and he then tendered a good shilling, and I gave him the change—I threw the sixpence on the counter, and he picked it up—about five minutes afterwards Davis came in—she took no notice of Cole—he said it was very hard to lose the sixpence, he had to work for it—Davis said, "It is very easy for the critics to be deceived sometimes," and took the sixpence and looked at it—I bent it again with my hand and said, "There now, is that bad?"—she said, "Yes, it is bad," and said to Cole, "If you wanted 6d. I will give you one"—he said that he did not want it—she paid 1d. for her drink, and they went out together—we close at 11 o'clock—Mr. Glover is the manager of our house, and also of the Three Nuns public-house—for the purpose of taking my cash I went to the Three Nuns about 11.10—it took me about three minutes to go there—I saw Davis there, and recognised her as the woman who had been with Cole at our house—after that I saw Cole—upon seeing him I said in their presence to Mr. Glover that he was the same man as had
attempted to pass a bad sixpence at my house—I am sure he was the same man.
HENRIETTA LOVERIDGE . I am a barmaid at the Three Nuns, Aldgate—on the evening of 12th January the prisoners came in together—Cole called for half a quartern of rum, which came to 3d.—I served him, and he gave me a sixpence—I put it in the till and gave him 3d. change—soon after he asked for a penny worth of tobacco—I served him, and be gave me another sixpence—I put it in my mouth, bent it, and gave it to Miss Debenham, another barmaid, aud sent for Mr.Glover—I then went to the till and found three sixpences there, one of which was bad—no one else had been to the till—there were other coins in the till, but the bad sixpence was on the top—Cole was the last one I served.
Cross-examined by Cole. You did not say that you were a dealer in Petticoat Lane, and sold a pair of trousers, and was paid with that sixpence.
Cross-examined by Davis. You asked me for a piece of lemon to put in your rum.
WILLIAM GLOVER . I am manager to Samuel East, proprietor of the Three Nuns Hotel, Aldgate—near 11.10 p.m. on 12th January Miss Debenham handed me two sixpences at my office—the prisoners were not present—I went into the bar; I saw the two prisoners there—I said to Cole, "These sixpences have been handed to me, they are bad, you passed them over the bar, have you any more about you?"—he said "No"—I said, "Can you tell me where you got them?" and he then appeared to be half drunk—I kept him in conversation and sent for a constable—when Plumbridge arrived Davis ran away—I followed her with one of my men, and caught her, and brought her back into the bar, and I charged her with being in company with Cole, aud I charged him with uttering the bad sixpence—while I was talking to the prisoners Miss Pallet came in and said, "That woman has been in my bar with a man, and the man tried to pass a bad sixpence"—they made no reply to that; I do not know if they heard that, I could have heard it if I had been in their place—they were then taken to the station, where Davis said that her name was Cole, I think.
Cross-examined by Cole. Davis said at the police-station that your name was Smith—I made a mistake just now—you were not drunk in reality—I did not hear you say anything about being a dealer in Petticoat Lane.
ALFRED PLUMBRIDGE (City Policeman 971). About 11.15 p.m.on 12th January I was called to the Three Nuns; the two prisoneis were at the bar, and Mr. Glover handed me two sixpences (produced)—Davis was brought out to the door—they were both very violent, and I was obliged to get assistance to take them into custody—Cole threw himself on the ground and struck me, and we were obliged to carry him to the station—I should not say he was drunk—we were obliged to take his boots off and handcuff him—at the station I found on him threehalfpence and a pennyworth of tobacco.
both very violent, and used very bad language—Cole's boots had to be taken off and he was handcuffed—Davis said at the station "It is a nice thing for me, I only went in to have a drink with that man."
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Cole says: "I am innocent of knowing the coins were bad." Davis says: "I am very sorry, I know nothing of the man."
GUILTY . COLE— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. DAVIS— Three Days' Imprisonment.
MR.MUIR Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
JAMES FREEMAN . I am a bookbinder, of 2, Playhouse Yard—on 30th August, about 3 p.m., I was at Snow Hill railway-station with my son—a train came in, I opened a carriage-door, and my son went in first—I was about to follow him, but was hustled by one man on my right, one on my left, and one behind—I looked behind and found a person I did not know had got hold of a man named Florence, who has been convicted—I found my guard dangling and missed my gold watch, worth 15l.—I never saw the prisoner till I was at Guildhall.
Cross-examined. This was at the darkest part of a very dark station—there was not a great crowd.
JAMES HENRY RACKLEY (City Detective). On August 30th, at 3 p.m., I was with Cross on Snow Hill, and saw Mr.Freeman and his son followed by four men who I know by sight well—the prisoner is one of them—they went on to the platform, and two men named Florence and Holt were there; the prisoner pushed Florence against Mr. reeman and Florence took Mr. freeman's watch chain, and with his other hand took the watch off the chain—I seized him, and Mr.Freeman said "That man has got my watch"—I was struggling with Florence and the other man when the prisoner, who was behind Florence, ran and jumped into a second-class carriage—the other man got away from me and jumped in front of the engine and ran up the tunnel—Holt went up the stairs and Cross took him—Florence and Holt were charged, convicted, and sentenced to seven years' penal servitude.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was with the others on Snow Hill, who were all within four feet of each other; he was behind Florence—I afterwards saw him sitting in the station and said to the inspector "What is that man here for? I want him"—he was by himself—I had not the slightest idea he was there.
Re-examined. The prisoner and Florence were talking together—the prisoner's description was circulated and he answers to it—they all turned round once or twice.
WILLIAM CROSS (City Detective). I was with Rackley outside Snow Hill Station, and saw the prosecutor followed by the prisoner, who I knew by sight, and three others—I lost sight of the prisoner when he went into the station behind the prosecutor—I did not go in then, but I
went in afterwards, and met another man coming out with Holt, who was chewing the railway ticket he had just bought—he has been convicted.
Cross-examined. I had an equal opportunity of seeing the faces of all four—I afterwards saw the prisoner in the House of Detention exercising with about 50 others—he was not placed with others of his height and complexion.
ALBERT ALLCOCK (Detective Police Sergeant Y). I received a communication from Cross, and on the 12th, between 2 and 3 p.m., I saw the prisoner, who I knew by sight, and told him I should take him in custody and he would be charged with three others with stealing a gold watch from a gentleman on the Underground Railway—he said "I don't know anything about it"—I took him to the Snow Hill Station, where he was charged.
Cross-examined. He was not put into a cell till after he wag charged.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am innocent, I was not there at the time they say."
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, February 3rd, 1885.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr Esq.
FREDERICK WILLIAM CLARK . I am cashier at the Greenwich Branch of the London and County Bank—on 23rd December this order for 50 cheques, signed W.Neave, was presented to me—I gave a book of 50 cheques, numbered 69526 to 69575, to the person presenting the order—Mr. Neave has an account there—this cheque, dated January 16th, and signed Smith and Co., is out of that book—the signature of the order is a very good imitation.
Cross-examined. I am not certain whether I gave it to man, woman, or child.
WILLIAM NEAVE . I am a bootmaker—about 12 months ago I purchased a business from the prisoner, and in the course of the business gave him a cheque—this order for 50 cheques is not signed by me or by my authority—it is as much like my signature as they could get it.
Cross-examined. It was before Christmas, 1883, you got a cheque from me—I don't swear this signature is in your writing; it is not mine, I know—I have some of your writing here—I am not sufficient judge to say if that is similar—I carry on my business by cheques—you are not the only person in 14 months I have paid cheques to—I never did business with anybody named Bennett, or any such name—I never saw the forms in your possession.
ANNIE MOLONEY . The prisoner is my father—I remember his giving me a piece of paper to take to the bank—I did so, and the gentleman at the bank gave me a book for it—I gave the book to him outside the bank.
ROBERT TURNER. I am a licensed viotualler's assistant in the Old Kent Road—on 16th January this cheque was presented by Annie Moloney to the head barman, who brought it to me—I looked at it, thought it suspicious, and sent the potman to No. 329, Old Kent Road, to see if it was right—the potman went out, and subsequently we were not satisfied and gave her over to the police.
JOHN MITCHELL (Detective City). On 21st January I went with a policeman to 5, Russell Court, St. George's-in-the-East—in a back room on the first floor I saw the prisoner—I said "We are police officers; I believe your name is John Moloney, and that you are the father of a little girl now being detained in St. George's Workhouse for uttering a fictitious cheque in the Old Kent Road"—he said "I am not her father"—I said "Do you mean to say you are not her father?"—he said "I am"—I said "Last night your little girl told us that you, on the 23rd December, gave her a piece of paper to take to the bank at Greenwich, and that a gentleman there gave her a cheque-book to hand to you, you being outside"—he said "That is true; I am in a mess"—I said "I shall charge you with forging and uttering a request for a cheque-book of 50 cheques on the London and County Bank, Greenwich"—he said "I formerly had an account at the London and County Bank, Stratford; I have been in great distress, and I took the request out of one of my old cheque-books."
The prisoner in his defence asserted that the child had been put up to her statement by the police officers, who 'had given her sweets and oakes and money, and threatened to send her abroad if she did not state what they told her to.
GUILTY. It was stated that the prisoner had obtained goods and 40l. or 50l. from the Stratford branch of the bank by means of fictitious cheques.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
EDWARD CROSS. I am a decorator, of 139, Manor Street, Clopham—about12.30 a.m. on 22nd January I was in Gray's Inn Road—my coat was open, showing my watch chain—the prisoner and other men assaulted me—the prisoner grabbed me with one hand, and snatched my watch out of my pocket with the other, while the others abused me, kicking me—I was struck on the head, I think, with something other than a fist; it seemed very hard—the prisoner hurt me most—I cried out "Police," and a constable came up and took the prisoner—he gave me back my watch.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had had a glass; I knew what I was doing.
Re-examined. I suffered afterwards—this thumb was struck on the joint—I could hardly use it afterwards.
JOHN DAMPER (Police✗man E 274). I was on duty in the Gray's Inn Road on the morning of the 22 nd January—I heard cries of "Policce," ran up and saw the prosecutor struggling with the prisoner—he had got hold of the prisoner, and said he had his watch, and the prisoner gave it up to him in my presence—this is it—there were several other roughs
with him, and as soon as they saw me going towards the prisoner they ran away.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he saw the prosecutor was drunk, and stopped to look on, when he seized hold of him, and being a cripple they fell to the ground together.
GUILTY. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in July, 1882.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
HARRY HARVEY (City Policeman 267). I was on duty on the 13th of January, about 12.55, in Greystoke Place, Fetter Lane—the prisoner and another man, Bennett, who is now doing three months' imprisonment, hurriedly passed me—Bennett was carrying this five gallon jar of whisky—I followed and called out—they dropped the jar and ran away—Bennett was caught, and after the case against him was disposed of at the police-court I went round to the prisoner's house, called him outside, and told him he would be charged with stealing a five gallon jar of whisky out of a van in Holborn—he said "You have made a mistake"—I said "I have made no mistake"—he said "Did he tell you I stole it?"—I said "No"—after he was charged at the police-court he said "You have made a mistake; I am innocent of this; I can tell you where I was that day, I was in the country doing a job for Mr. Broadway"—he said afterwards "Now I remember where I was that day, I was walking about looking for work, and was at home from 3 to 5"—he stated afterwards that he was in bed from 3 in the afternoon, and got up at 5, and came out with some mates to the corner of Catford Street—he also said "Take me and let the other man see me, and if he says I am the man, I will admit it is me"—I have no doubt about the prisoner, I had full view of his face twice when I met him and when he turned round, and I have not the slightest doubt it is he.
Cross-examined. You did not say that you were with Mr.Broadway concerning work; you said you were doing work for him—I said to the best of my opinion you wore light coloured trousers.
FRANK GEORGE NEWMAN. I am a carman in Pickford's service—on the 13th of January I was with my van getting whisky from Anderson's distillery, Holborn—my van was standing in Holborn, a few yards from Fetter Lane—I had taken a jar from the distillery, and put it in the front of the van—I went to fetch another, and when I came out my jar was gone—this is it—the value is 5l.—I did not notice the prisoner there, nor anybody hanging about.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM HUDSON . The night before this was committed you were at work, and you were in bed on the day itself to within a few minutes before 4, and then you got up and went to work, but came back and said the regular man was back, and you did not wish to take his place.
(The witness produced papers giving the prisoner a good character, and his discharge from the Army.)
Cross-examined. I am the prisoner's brother—he lives with me and our parents at 28, Cock Hill—I was at work on this day—I went to work at 6 o'clock—I came home at a quarter past six with my
brother to breakfast—my brother went to bed; I saw him at home at dinner, he was snoring—he went to work with me because the washer had stopped away, and our foreman asked me to find him one—I first heard that the prisoner was apprehended when I went home to tea on the Wednesday and saw Broadway and my mother crying, and they told me—Broadway does not live in the country—I cannot say if my brother has done a job in the country for him—he is a superintendent at the East India Dock Company's warehouse—I believe the police had sent to him to know if my brother had worked for him—I am positive about this day, because 77 barrels had come that day, and my brother was unloading it, and the foreman said the old washer had turned up—my brother has not worked there before—he worked all night and stopped in bed during the day—he has not worked at night before—he has done a little for Parneil, in Bishopsgate Street—he had no regular employment.
—CHAMBERS. I saw you on the Tuesday that this happened—on Monday the 11th you asked me to wash a shirt by the next day, and the next day your mother called me up and asked me if I had done it—I saw you in bed; your bed was facing the door—I said it was drying, and between 3 and half-past your mother called me up again—I took the shirt up and I saw you in bed then—you were in bed and asleep at 3.30.
Cross-examined. I live opposite—I go across and do his mother's errands and washing, as she cannot go out—I have known the prisoner since he came from the war—they live at the top of the house, and when the mother called me I went up there—I have not talked the case over with his brother—I noticed it because a man in our house quarrelled with a policeman on the Monday and got seven days, and this happened on the Tuesday, and I said I knew where he was because I took up the shirt—I do not know Bennett—the prisoner's mother asked me to come here—she said "You know what time he was in bed and what time you came up"—I said "Yes"—I knew the time because of getting my father's dinner ready—I put it on at 11, and he comes home to tea at 4—I first went to the prisoner's house at 11—he was then in bed, and his eyes were shut.
The Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent; I know nothing about it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
JESSIE THORP. I live with my husband at 55, Theobald's Road—on the 16th of January I was walking down Wardour Street about 7 p.m., carrying a little handbag—Woods ran up against me and tried to take it—I struggled with him for some time, and at last I began to let go, and I was kicked down by some one and thrown ilto the middle of the road, and seriously hurt—I am under the doctor now—I can't say who kicked me—I caught hold of one of their waistcoats when down—Woods certainly took my bag, I can speak to no one else—about 20 minutes afterwards I went to 49, Rupert Street, where I saw my bag and the two prisoners—the bag was open, its contents were untouched.
Cross-examined by Smith. I did not see you at all.
Cross-examined by Woods. The more I see of you the more certain I am it was you.
ALFRED BREWER. I am an engraver, of 6, Frith Street, Soho—I was running down Wardour Street about 7 on this evening, when I heard screams, and saw the last witness just rising off the ground—I asked her what was the matter; she said something about being robbed—I ran in the direction she indicated down Rupert Street—I saw some people collected at the door of 49—I stopped and saw the prisoners and the two witnesses Horwood on the threshold of the door; they asked me if I would go and search—I went inside, closed the door behind me, and then the younger Horwood picked up a bag just at my feet at the top of the kitchen stairs—we went downstairs, but saw no one—Horwood the landlord requested me to go upstairs—I asked whether either of the prisoners resided in the house—I went for a constable, and when I came back with one, he said to Woods "I believe you are the man"—Woods took his hat off and said "Don't put an innocent man away"—the constable took the charge against Wood and I fetched the lady; when I came back the other prisoner was in custody in the passage.
Cross-examined by Wood. You, I, and the son went downstairs together.
JOHN AMEY. I am an estate agent of Hornsey Rise—on this evening I was at the corner of Richmond and Wardour Streets and saw the prosecutrix struggling with Smith on the pavement—Mrs. Thorpe was thrown into the middle of the road; I saw one man running away very near the end of Richmond Street when I got up—I ran after Smith—when he had thrown the lady down he ran away in the same direction as the other man—I did not see him go into a house—I saw him brought out of 49, Rupert Street, by a policeman—I lost sight of him; he started some distance before me.
Cross-examined by Smith. I saw you push the lady down; I can't say how it was done, because she was between you and me—she had no bag then—I was walking along talking to a friend; it was a few minutes to 7 o'clock.
Cross-examined by Wood. I saw a man running away; I could not recognise him.
FREDERICK HORWOOD. I am a porter, and live with my father at 49, Rupert Street—on this evening, a little after 7 o'clock, I was in the parlour, and heard a disturbance outside, and when I went out I saw Brewer with a crowd collected—he told me some one was in the passage—the door was shut—at the end of the stairs I picked up the bag and gave it to the constable when he came—as I came back with the bag I saw Wood standing by my father at the foot of the stairs—I saw my father go upstairs, he brought down Smith—the two prisoners had no business in our house, they do not live there, and know no men upstairs; I don't know how they got into the house.
FREDERICK HORWOOD. I am the last witness's father, and am a cook—I was in my parlour a little after 7 o'clock; I heard a disturbance, went to see what was the matter, and there was a crowd of 30 people—some one said "A lady has been knocked down and robbed, and the thieves have got into you house"—I got a light, went upstairs, and on the second floor found Smith looking down, at me as I approached—I told him to come down, I wanted him—he followed me down without making
any remark; when we got down into the passage a constable who was there took the two prisoners away—I had never seen them before; they had no business in my house.
Cross-examined by Smith. You were not with my son in the passage.
JAMES MAN (Policeman CR 27). I was on duty in Wardour Street—I saw the prosecutrix in Richmond Street, surrounded by a crowd, and from what she said I went to Rupert Street—the door of 49 was shut when I arrived—Horwood, the son, admitted me, and I found Wood standing in the passage and Brewer just behind the door—I asked Wood if he lived there—he said "No, I have been looking for the thief"—I detained him till Horwood came downstairs with Smith—I asked him if he lived in the house—he said "No, I have been looking for the thief"—I detained him in the passage till the prosecutrix came, and she identified Wood—Horwood picked up the bag from where we were standing.
—HUTCHINGS (Policeman CR 22). I was in Rupert Street about 7 o'clock—I went to 49, knocked, went inside, and saw both prisoners, and Brewer and Horwood—I took Wood and charged him with being concerned in robbing a lady of a bag—he said "It would be a d—d shame if you put me away"—I saw the bag in the other constable's hands—at the station neither of the prisoners made any answer to the charge.
Smith, in his defence, stated that he saw a crowd in Rupert Street, and hearing that a lady had had her bag stolen, he pushed his way through and entered the passage. Wood stated that seeing the crowd, and hearing the statement, he went into the passage, and then the lady came in and charged him, and he asserted his innocence.
GUILTY. SMITH then PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in January, 1882, in the name of John Bryant.— Two Years' Hard Labour. WOODS— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
THOMAS BULL. I am a private in the 15th Hussars and servant to Colonel Field—on the afternoon of the 17th, in consequence of something the stable-boy told me I went to the stable—I missed a horse-roller, Colonel Field's property—I had seen the prisoner in the morning in the barracks—I gave information to the police, who went in search of the prisoner——we met him on the road coming back—the constable told him to undo his coat, and this roller of Colonel Field's fell down—he said nothing—I had last seen it safe about 2.20—we did not see it until he unbuttoned his coat.
DANIEL PALMER (Inspector T). About 3.30 p.m., in consequence of information, I drove in a cab to the Isleworth Station, Bull following roe on foot—I overtook the prisoner walking towards Brentford, carrying a parcel in his hand—I asked him what he had got in his hand, I did not then know what had been stolen, he said "Books"—I asked him where he got them, he said off a stall at Brentford—I said "Come back with me"—we got to Bull two minutes afterwards; I asked him what he had lost, he said "A horse-roller"—I undid the prisoner's coat and saw the roller—I said "You will be charged with stealing this from the barracks"—he said "I have not been to the barracks, I gave a shilling for it."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. After you were remanded you said that if I inquired of Palmer he would say he had seen a man give it to you—I
have a letter from Palmer saying you did not ask him about it—the boy is here.
JOHN BUNKIN (Not examined in chief). Cross-examined. I saw you take this roller from the stable; I saw the end of it—I was close to the stable door—I did not give you the roller to take to Isleworth Station—I did not give you a shilling.
GUILTY. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in January, 1883.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
258. JOHN AZZI (62) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing an umbrella, the goods of the Civil Service Supply Association, after a conviction of felony in September, 1880, in the name of Daly Horcarti.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
260. JOSEPH TWYDELL (32) and JAMES MILNE (40) to stealing and receiving six dozen steel files and eight dozen keys, the goods of Richard Hughes and another, the masters of Twydell.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
261. WILLIAM LAWRENCE (62) to stealing a flannel shirt, the goods of Benjamin Dickenson; also to stealing two trowels and a line and pins and other goods of James Payne, and two trowels and a hammer, the goods of Alfred Cook, having been convicted of felony in April, 1884, at Newington.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February 4th, 1885.
Before Baron Huddleston.
MR. RIBTON Prosecuted.
SOLOMON GENTRY. I am a fruiterer and greengrocer, of Uxbridge Road, Notting Hill—I have known the prisoner about 16 years, but have not seen him for some years—on the night of 15th January he came into my shop and said "Hallo, Mr.Gentry, I have not seen you for a long time"—I said "Possibly not"—he said "How are things looking, all right?"—I said "As far as I know"—that was all I said to him—he went out and I closed the door—I was about closing the shop when I observed the door opening—I went and pulled it open a trifle, and just as I put my face to look out there was a crack and a flash close to my face, like a percussion cap going off—I then opened the door and saw the prisoner walking away from the door—he came back in a minute or two and stopped quite opposite to me, within about a yard, and there was another report, as if from a percussion cap, and a flash—he held it like at my body—I could not see what it was, it was in the dark, but I saw the flash and heard the report—I became rather alarmed and closed the door—I looked out in a few minutes; he was still there, and I sent for a policeman—about 16 years ago the prisoner was sentenced to four months' imprisonment at the Middlesex Sessions for an indecent assault upon a child of mine—I prosecuted him.
been doing?"—he said "That is best known to Mr. Gentry"—I took him to the station, and found this single-barrelled pistol upon him—I examined it; it was loaded with powder and a piece of wadding—I drew the charge; there was no bullet—I also found on him 15 percussion caps and a large piece of wadding.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment for a common assault upon the prosecutor, and upon the same evidence the Jury found the prisoner
GUILTY. — Six Months' without Hard Labour.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted.
GEORGE NELSON (Policeman N 100). On Saturday, 17th January, about three in the afternoon, I was called to the premises of Mr. Randall Perry at 4, Lea Bridge Common, Clapton—there is a front shop and a room behind—there is a doorway in the passage from the shop to the room behind, but no door—the room is 18 feet by 8 feet 6 inches, and the height 11 feet—I was called there with reference to a charge against the prisoner of stealing—there was a box on the counter—the prisoner unlocked it and I opened it—I called his attention to what I was about to do, that he was to see that I did it fairly—as I was taking out the articles the prisoner was standing at the far end of the box—I had only taken out a few articles when I heard a shot fired—I had taken out a purse, and was just handing it to Mr.Perry; it was afterwards found to contain some pawn-tickets for articles which Mr. Ferry claimed—on hearing the shot I turned sharp round and saw smoke coming out of the revolver in my face; it was about two yards from my head; the prisoner was standing about three yards from me, with his hand out straight at my head—I dodged my head down, thinking a second shot was coming, and went towards him, and as I was doing so the manager rushed in from the other shop and struck his arm; the second shot was fired and the bullet struck the wall on the left-hand side of the room—the pistol was pointed at me; I could see up the barrel—I took the prisoner by the throat and pushed him back into a corner; the manager wrenched his arm behind him and pulled the revolver away from him; it dropped at my feet, and I picked it up—the prisoner did not speak—I held him there and sent Mr.Perry after another policeman—I afterwards searched him and found this packet of bullets in his breast pocket; there were six large and eight small ball cartridges in a purse—the large ones fit the big revolver which I took from him, and the small ones fit the little one, which is a pin-fire; that was in his breast pocket; that was fully loaded; it is a six-chamber revolver—on the way to the station the prisoner said "I did not mean to shoot you when I pointed the revolver at your head; I was re-cocking it to shoot again; if I had had the little one it would have been all right; the big one kicked"—I could have counted 20 or 30 between the first and second shots—he asked me to post this letter—the inspector afterwards picked up two other bullets.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I found the bullets in your breast pocket; you did not hand them to me out of your trousers pocket.
RANDALL PERRY . The prisoner was in my service—on this Saturday afternoon I was in the room behind the shop, when the prisoner's box was put on the counter and unlocked—I had sent for a policeman in consequence of suspecting the prisoner of robbing me—I accused him of stealing 13s. and two pawn tickets, and he denied it—when the constable came the prisoner immediately said "I own to having done it, will you forgive me?"—I refused, and ordered his box to be searched—we were proceeding to do it when I heard a movement and a shot fired; the bullet came whizzing over my head, and seemed to strike two or three places—Nelson was between me and the prisoner at that time—on looking round I saw the prisoner standing, deliberately pointing the pistol at the constable—as we were making towards him my foreman sprang forward and threw up the prisoner's arm, and the second shot was thrown up on the wall—he was laid hold of, and the pistol fell on the floor—he put his hand in his pocket and said "I have another one for you," and it was taken from his pocket—I found three of the barrels loaded, and two had been discharged—the small one was fully loaded with ball cartridges, which I extracted—the prisoner has no sight in his right eye—he has a glass eye, which I was kind enough to subscribe towards getting him, to improve his appearance.
DANIEL JAMES REVELLY. I am foreman to Mr. Perry—I was in the back room with him and the prisoner—I was called into the shop to attend to a customer, and whilst there I heard a shot—I returned to the parlour; the prisoner was standing in the doorway with his back towards me, with his arm out and a pistol pointed in the direction of the constable—just as I got to him he fired; I struck his elbow and the ball went up in the wall; if I had not struck his elbow I think the shot would have struck the constable—I took the large revolver from him and threw it on the ground—I told the constable to take charge of him—he then said "Revelly, old man, I have another, and he took the small one from his breast pocket and gave it up.
JOSEPH HUDSON (Police Inspector N). The prisoner was brought to the Hackney Station—I read the charge to him; it was for robbing his employer of 13s., and also shooting at the constable with intent to prevent his lawful apprehension—in reply to the second charge he said "That I deny; I intended to commit suicide; I have hurt my head"—I sent for Dr.White, the assistant-surgeon of the division, and he found his hair slightly singed on the right side of his head—I afterwards went to the room behind tho shop, and found a bullet divided in two pieces in a cardboard box—I found two bullets on the Saturday, and one on the Sunday—I saw a mark on the wall on the left hand side, the plaster was torn away, and I found this bullet in the fender opposite the wall, covered with plaster—there were several marks of bullets all round the room, as if they had been flying about.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he had no intention of shooting the constable, his object was to shoot himself.
GUILTY. — Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 4th, 1885.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
MATTHEW COLLINS. I am a porter at the Queen's Hotel, St. Martin's-le-Grand—on the 7th January, about 1.45, a parcel which I had made up by instructions was in a chair in the hall; it contained an old porter's jacket and a few other things—I was watching, and saw the prisoner come in and go to the billiard room, and then to the coffee room, where he read the newspapers for three or four minutes, and came out into the hall, took up the parcel quite carelessly, put it under his arm, and went out—I followed him through Gresham Street, and took a constable with me, who stopped him—I told the constable that he had stolen the parcel from the hotel—he took him back and confronted him with Mr. Best—he was not staying in the hotel.
Cross-examined. I did not see him enter the hotel—a number of commercial travellers stop there—he said that he had seen somebody at a refreshment place, who asked him to fetch the parcel.
JOSEPH HORNBY (City Policeman). Collins spoke to me, and I stopped the prisoner with a parcel under his arm; he said it was his own—I took him back to the hotel and then to the station, where I found on him some duplicates relating to bags—he said that he met a gentleman, that they went to the hotel together to have some refreshment; and the gentleman asked him to take the parcel to some place for him.
Cross-examined. I found some letters in his hand, they were given up to him at Guildhall—he said that he had been a surveyor for some years.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY. — Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR.BURNIE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
JOHN NICHOLL. I am warehouseman at Messrs. Cook, Sons, and Co.'s, of 22, St.Paul's Churchyard—on 6th November, about 12.45, I saw the prisoner coming out from the gangway of the merino department in his shirt sleeves—I lost sight of him—on the 13th, about 1 o'clock I saw him again coming from the merino department in his shirt sleeves and carrying a black canvas bag which appeared to be full—he went to the hosiery department, which adjoins the merino departmemt on the same floor, and dropped the bag in one of the recesses and left the house immediately—I followed him to the door in Carter Lane and saw him off the premises—I then went back and looked at the bag and found in it these four pieces of merino, value 30l., which are the property of the firm, they came from the place where I saw the prisoner on the 6th; I gave information—on December 22nd I saw him again in the print department between 1 and 2 o'clock in his shirt sleeves—he went out at the door into Carter Lane and turned iuto Sermon Lane, where he joined a man holding a coat; I did not wait to see if he put the coat on, but went back and got assistance and sent Hooper to watch him—I then went out with Holdford, who seized him in Knight Eider Street, and he was given in custody.
Cross-examined. I was examined twice at the Mansion House, but I never mentioned the prisoner being there on the 6th till last Session, when he was tried before the Common Serjeant, and the Jury disagreed—there are a great number of persons in the warehouse without their coats—when he crossed over the bridge to Carter Lane I was a few yards from him and recognised him as the man I had seen on the 6th—I did not call out "Stop thief" I was under the impression that no one could be convicted of theft while he remained on the premises—men have been convicted of loitering on our premises—on 22nd December Henry Cox was taken in custody—that was about a quarter of an hour before I saw the prisoner that day—I was 20 or 30 yards from the prisoner; I followed him—he did not go downstairs, he left by the lift, and I saw him two or three minutes afterwards in Sermon Lane—I then went back for assistance, met Hooper, and left him to watch him, and saw him in custody three or four minutes afterwards.
ALFRED HOOPER. I am a warehouseman at Messrs. Cook's—on 6th November, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I saw the prisoner in the gangway of the merino department in his shirt sleeves—the gangway is a passage between stacks of merino and a fixture—he began writing on a piece of paper—I watched him and saw him leave—I saw him again on November 12th going through the merino department into the woollen room in his shirt sleeves—that is up two floors—I followed him into the reserve woollen room upstairs and through the cambric handkerchief department and then downstairs out of the house; he went down a different staircase to the one he had come up, he did not speak to any one in any of the various departments—on December 22nd Nicholl called me, and I went out into Sermon Lane and saw the prisoner and recognised him, he had no coat on—I watched him; he went towards a man who was holding a coat, which he took and put on, and they walked together into Knight Rider Street—I got Policeman Hodson and followed him, and Hatfield met them and stopped them.
Cross-examined. He was not under my view many minutes on November 6th—I followed him on November 12th the bottom of the stairs and recognised him as the man I had seen on the 6th—on the 22nd I went out by the Knightrider Street exit and saw the prisoner standing about the middle of Sermon Lane, I was on a level with him on the opposite side of the street—I went to get a policeman, and when I came back he was still there—I followed him into Knightrider Street, and he went down Old Change, I had him in my view till he was taken.
HENRY HATFIELD. I am a packer in Messrs. Cook's employ—on the 22nd December, between 1 and 2 o'clock, Nicholl sent for me, and I saw the prisoner and another man in Sermon Lane; the other man walked sharp for a few yards, and then ran away as hard as he could—the prisoner had his coat on then—Head and Hooper came up, and the prisoner was given into my custody—I had seen him before, a dozen times or more, loitering about outside the warehouse with the man who ran away—I have been in the employ a number of years—four pieces of merino like this could be carried in this black bag—I carried them in it to the Mansion House without difficulty.
Cross-examined. I have seen him outside, and had several glances of him passing in and out—there are a number of workmen about who take parcels—he attracted my attention by the suspicious way in which he
loitered about—I did not seize him because I did not see him with anything—I laid hold of him first and said "I want you, young man, back at Cook and Co.'s"—he coloured up and said "What for?"—I said "You shall see when you get there," and the man in uniform came up.
EDWARD BOWDEN GEORGE . I am a warehouseman to the prosecutors—on November 12th, between 1 and 2 p.m., I saw the prisoner in the fancy woollen department in his shirt sleeves; he went into the cambric handkerchief department, and I lost sight of him—on the 22nd December I saw him again about the same time in the fancy woollen department; he had his coat on then—a man named Cox was with him, who has since been convicted of loitering on the prosecutors' premises; Cox had no coat on—both went to the reserve woollen department, into a gangway between two rows of goods—I followed and stopped Cox, and he was given into custody; the prisoner walked off by himself sharply—I picked up this black bag (produced) in the gangway.
Cross-examined. I think it was rather before 1.30 on the 22nd that I saw him—I did not see him again till he was at the station—he was not placed with the others.
Cross-examined. I never saw a bag used for this purpose; they generally carry bales on their shoulders.
MALACHI BLIGHT . I am a warehouseman at Messrs.Cook's—on November 12th, between 1 and 2, I saw the prisoner, in his shirtsleeves, coming from the fancy woollen department—he ran into the cambric handkerchief department and went downstairs—I have seen him on the premises several times, and once with somebody else, who has been convicted since of stealing silk; that was not Cox.
Cross-examined. I don't know that man's name—I went to the station with the other witnesses and saw the prisoner—he was not placed with others—I did not see him taken in custody.
WALTER HOTSON (City Policeman 192). On the 22nd December, about 2 o'clock, I was in Carter Lane—I received information, and found the prisoner detained by Hatfield in Knightrider Street—I told him he would be taken in custody—he said "I don't know what you have got me for"—I took him to Cook's warehouse, and he was identified as having been there—when the charge was read over to him at the station he said "I know nothing whatever about it"—15s. 9d. was found on him.
Cross-examined. I never saw workmen carrying parcels in bags like this.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS AYRES . I am a chair and couch manufacturer, of 21, Wickhampton Street, Shoreditch—the prisoner is my son; he has worked for me ever since he came from Liverpool in August—I keep a book in which I enter the wages which are paid to him—this is it—I am able to say by looking at it that he was working for me on November 6th—it contains the money I pay him on Saturday afternoons, and on November 6th he took 1l. 5s.—he did not work full time for me that week, because he worked at a job in Holborn; but I am able to say he worked on my premises on November 6th—he takes his midday meal with us between 1 and 2 o'clock—I have nothing but the book to fix my recollection as to whether he took his midday meal with me that day, but he did so daily,
and I can say that of the whole of November—he works in the workshop where I am, and takes his dinner in the kitchen with us—last Session was the first time I heard November 6th mentioned—on 12th November my wife and I and my son and one or two friends were at the next door neighbour, Mrs. Pike's, at a birthday party, till 12.30 p.m.—I am able to recollect from that that my son was at home on the morning of the 12th; he took his dinner with me as usual that day—as to November 13th, when it is said that he was at Cook's warehouse between 1 and 2 o'clock, I am able to say that he was at home at that time; I can bring two customers of mine, one of whom is downstairs now—just after 12 o'clock on the 13th Mr.Platt, of 223, Curtain Road, came to me about making some seats for a music hall, and we went back into the workshop, and the prisoner drew a sketch on a board of how the seats were to be planned—Mr.Platt went away, and Mr.Bircham, who is here, came in at the workshop; my son was there, he had just done his dinner—two or three other persons came, and one was Mr.Williams, who we were making six chairs for, and he had them home on November 15th—I was at work in my shop on 13th November till 8.30 at night, and left my son there; he took his dinner with me, and his tea too—it is a good half-hour's walk from Wickhampton Street to St.Paul's Churchyard—since the last hearing I found the prisoner's time-book in his jacket pocket in his bedroom; his wages are so much per hour, which he enters here, and I keep check against the time on a board in the shop, and at the end of the week they bring their time-papers in for so many hours—he has entered on November 13th, that would be Thursday; he puts the day of the week at the beginning; he started on the Thursday at 10 and worked till 11—I have found this book since the last trial—here are daily entries in it of the hours he worked on November 6th, 12th and 13th—on 22nd December, the day he was taken, I saw him about 9.30 a.m. till about 11.15; he was not going to stop at home then—I had just taken an order to make four chairs, and everything was cut except four pieces, and when he was having his breakfast I told him to get those four pieces cut; he then went out to buy a hat, and I never saw him again till the constable came.
Cross examined. His dinner-time does not count—he has an hour for dinner and half an hour for tea—he has never gone away at his dinner-hour—Mr. Platt is not here—Mr. Bircham was not here on the last occasion, I did not think it necessary—going to a birthday party on the night of the 12th helps me to remember the 13th—I do not know that he said on December 22nd that he was going to buy a hat at Hope's in Cheapside; I said at Hope's on tho last occasion, but I did not say "Cheapside"—I did not hear observations on the last occasion about Hope's in Cheapside being a good deal short of Knightrider Street, nor is that the reason that I hate not mentioned Cheapside to-day; I thought you knew where Hope's was.
Re-examined. I recollect the day the customers called, because it was the day after the birthday party—you kept talking about Hope Brothers of Cheapside on the last trial, but I do not know whether my son and told me which shop he was going to.
working there with me—he was at work when I left at 1 o'clock for my dinner, and was at work when I came back at 2 o'clock.
GEORGE WILLIAMS . I am a wood turner, of 68, Pearson Street, Shoreditch—I work out of doors for Mr.Ayers—he was making six chairs for me, which were delivered on 15th November—I called there on Thursday, November 15th, about 1.20—I fix the time because I go to dinner at 1 o'clock, and I went in my dinner-hour and saw Mr.Ayers and the prisoner—I remained about five or ten minutes, leaving the prisoner in the workshop about 1.30.
Cross-examined. I go there occasionally—I have been there more than once about these chairs, not always at dinner-time, but when I went at dinner-time I mostly saw the prisoner.
Re-examined. On this occasion, instead of my doing work for Mr. Ayers, he was making chairs for me—I remember it was midday on the 15th because it was the Saturday after Lord Mayor's Day.
CHARLES BIRCHAM . I am an upholsterer, of 48, Paul Street, Finsbury—I was at Mr.Ayers's on 10th, 11th, and 13th November, and I will not say whether I was there on the 14th—I was there on November 13th between 1 and 2 o'clock, and also about 8 p.m.—I saw the prisoner in the workshop between 1 and 2 o'clock—I remember the time because I received an order from a customer for a suite of chairs on the Monday, and I went to Mr. Ayers's to order it—this is the order (produced) which enables me to fix the date—it is my customer's writing—the date is to it—I remember in consequence of a conversation with the lad who brought a lady's chair.
Cross-examined. I generally saw the prisoner there when I went, and his father too—I am quite positive I went there at dinner-time on the 13th.
Re-examined. I am positive because the lad brought the lady's chair on Tuesday, and told me the small chairs would be in about 1 o'clock, and I said to my wife, "As soon as I have had my dinner I will go down and see about it"—that is why I fix it at the dinner-hour.
SARAH PILE . I am the wife of John Pile—we live next door to Mr. Ayers, but ours is No. 10a and theirs No. 21—November 12th was my birthday—I had a few friends in in the evening, and among them the prisoner and his father—I heard the prisoner singing in the workshop next morning, and saw him going into the workshop at the end of the yard about 2 o'clock, from the house, and asked him if the children were at home—he said that they had gone to school—they go when the bell rings.
ELIZABETH AYERS . I am the prisoner's mother—on 12th November I was at Mrs. Pile's birthday party—on the day after that my son took his dinner with me as usual between 1 and 2 o'clock—he always dines at home.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
266. GEORGE MONK (33) , Stealing the sums of 5s., 2l., and 4s.; also 3s., 3s. 2d., and 7s.; also 4l. 11s., 5l., and 16s., of Herbert George Lousada and another, his masters; also unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 3s. from his said masters, upon which MR.M.WILLIAMS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 4th, 1885.
Before Mr.Common Serjeant.
HENRY LOTT PEACH . I am an oil and colour warehouseman, of 3, Wentworth Road, Mile End—about 12.15 a.m. on 12th January I was outside the Plough, Mile End Road—Tompkins came up and wanted me to fight—I said I did not understand fighting, I was going home—he then struck me on my face and knocked me down—I got up and attempted to strike him with my stick, but another person, who I cannot identify, threw me, and I fell on my face—I immediately rose again and told him I did not wish to fight, I was going home—Pinnock came behind me, put his right arm round my neck, and threw me to the ground—I turned round and was thrown on my right side; Pinnock laid somehow on my face, and Tompkins laid across my feet, and two other persons with them held my arms straight out across the pavement for some minutes—I was struck in the face—I got up and saw Pinnock running away, and Tompkins struck me in the chest and knocked me down again—I called out "Police; stop thief"—a constable came up; I made a statement to him; he gave chase to the prisoners—they were both perfect strangers to me—I was sober—I am quite sure they are two of the four men who assaulted me—after they had gone I missed my watch and chain—I always carry them loose in a pocket inside my waistcoat, the button of which was torn off; the waistcoat was torn open—the chain was not visible from the outside—I lost my cap and cane and 15s., which had been loose in my right-hand trousers pocket—soon after the robbery I saw the prisoners in custody in British Street, about 250 yards off—I looked on the ground afterwards, but saw nothing there of anything I had lost.
Cross-examined by MR.WARBURTON. I had been at Stratford for an hour—I left off work at 8, and walked back—I had only been in one public-house since 8 o'clock, about 10; I was in one at 6—at 10 o'clock I had one glass of ale; I was not fogged—it is dark in that street—this took place just outside a public-house; it was in a main road—there was not a soul to be seen then—I did not notice that Tompkins seemed to be in liquor when he wanted to fight—I was walking at a pretty good speed, and had done nothing to quarrel with him—he said "Halloa, you will have a fight with me, won't you?"—I had not pushed against him—there were not people coming out of the public-house then—there is another public-house 150 yards off, round the bend—the chain was on the watch, but loose inside my pocket; I never carry it fastened to a button—I had last looked at my watch at 12.5—it was a P. and O. cap and a bamboo cane.
WILLIAM FOREMAN . I am a provision merchant, of 13, Union Street, Malmesbury Road, Bow—a few minutes after midnight on 12th January I was in the Mile End Road, about to get off a tramcar, when I saw the scuffle; I was about 40 or 50 yards off before I got off the car—I turned back—when I got up Peach was on the ground and Tompkins was lying full length on the top of him, with his hands working here, as if he was
sponging him—I could not make it out for a few minutes—Pinnock was in a half-stooping position over him, but he turned as soon as I got up, and said "I have hurt my wrist; he has struck me with a stick; he has broken it; take this stick away from him"—I turned and ran down Coburn Road—not finding a policeman, I crossed the road, and was turning back when I heard the cry of "Stop thief," and recognised Tompkins running by me and the police after him—I gave chase, and a constable caught him within a few yards from me—as the constable was taking Tompkins to the station Pinnock came up and said "I have been insulted, I have been struck; I will give a man in charge"—Peach was not there at the time; he came up and I said directly "That is one of the men; take him"—the constable held him—I followed to the station afterwards, and gave my name and address.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I did not know Peach or the prisoners—this is a main street; there were plenty of people about, but not where this took place—the light is very bad; it is very dull.
THOMAS JARVIS (Policeman K 568). I was on duty in Mcklin Street, Mile End, heard cries of "Police" three times, went towards Mile End Road, and saw Tompkins knock Mr.Peach down outside the public-house—Tompkins ran away; I pursued him for 300 or 400 yards—I blew my whistle, and Lake 584 caught him.
HENRY LAKE (Policeman K 584). On 12th January, about 12.30 p.m., I heard a constable's whistle, went towards Mile End Road, and saw several men running—Tompkins was in front—I caught him in British Street after running 300 or 400 yards—I took him back to Peach, who stated that he had been robbed of a watch and money, and had lost his hat and cane, and described what had been done to him—Tompkins heard that, but made no reply.
GEORGE ORME (Policeman K 226). I was on duty in the Mile End Road, and heard a policeman's whistle—I went a little way and saw Pinnock running—I chased him about 120 yards, caught and detained him—he was by himself—Peach came up and said, "I shall give him into custody for being one of the men that assaulted and robbed me"—Pinnock said, "I will give him in custody for assaulting me"—Pinnock was taken to the station and charged.
Cross-examined by Pinnock. I chased you from the corner of Macklin Street to British Street.
Tompkins's Statement before the Magistrate. "I don't know any of the other young men. I was talking to a woman, and the prosecutor struck me with a stick."
THOMAS JARVIS (Re-examined). On Pinnock was found 9l. 10s. in gold, 1s. 3d. silver, 8 1/2 d. bronze, a cent piece in a purse, a gold watch and a silver chain, which have not been identified, a gun licence, a knife, a bunch of keys, a pipe, key, neckerchief, and this stick—nothing was found on Tompkins.
The prisoners received good characters.
Pinnock in his defence stated that Tompkins was a perfect stranger to him, that he was coming along the Bow Road when he saw the prosecutor flourishing a stick about that he spoke to him, when the prosecutor drew back the stick to hit him, and that he put up his arm, to save his head and the stick woke his wrist, and that then the prosecutor knocked him down; that he
afterwards met the prosecutor outside the King's Head and wanted to give him into custody, but was charged himself.
PINNOCK— NOT GUILTY. TOMPKINS— GUILTY of assault with attempt to rob. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
268. AUGUSTUS FREDERICK FURBY (32) , Feloniously altering an order for the payment of 5l. so as to make it appear to be an order for the payment of 305l., with intent to defraud. Other Counts for uttering and for forging and uttering.
MESSRS. BESLEY and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MESSES. GEOGHEGAN and
MR. GEOGHEGAN submitted that under Section 12 of the Married Women's Property Act, 1882 (45 and 46 Vict., c. 75), which was relied upon by the prosecution as the authority for calling the wife as a witness against her husband in this case, the wife could not give evidence against her husband except upon a charge of larceny, as the words "wrongfully taken" applied only to such a charge, and had no reference to forgery or uttering a forged valuable security, and he argued that the wording of Sections 10 and 17 supported this view. MR. BESLEY contended that the words "wrongfully taken" applied equally to larceny, false pretences, and forgery, and could not be limited to larceny; that the Legislature would have inserted the words "steal, take, and carry away" if they had intended such a limitation as Mr.Geoghegan argued for, and that Sections 10 and 17 were merely assisting sections with regard to the restitution and possession of property, and had nothing to do with taking property at the time of desertion. The COMMON SERJEANT, having consulted MR BARON HUDDLESTON, ruled that the words "wrongfully taken" could not be limited to a case of larceny, but were sufficiently large to include a forgery, and that therefore the wife's evidence was admissible.
ALICE MARGARET FURBY . I am the prisoner's wife—we were married on 11th October last—prior to that time I had carried on business in partnership with my sister as a greengrocer at 20, High Street, South Norwood, and when I married I had an account at the Croydon branch of the London and County Bank, with a balance of 245l. standing to my credit—after the marriage I did not continue to carry on the business—my husband induced me to go to the bank and have the account transferred to our joint names on the day we were married, after the wedding—a few days before the marriage I had advanced him 10l. to buy clothes with to get married in—I asked him why it was to be placed in our joint names—he said it would be much safer and botter for the business accounts in going to the market and if anything happened to me—we lived together up to 6th November at 4, Campdell Terrace, Tufnell Park—on 3rd November the account was transferred to the King's Cross branch of the same bank—he said nothing to me at any time about altering the account to his own name, or that he was going to the bank to do so, I did not know he had been—on 6th November he brought me this cheque (he kept the cheque-book), with which he said he wanted to pay the gas deposit, 5l.—there was nothing on it except the figure "6," which was where the "5" is now—he said the gas deposit was 6l.—I said no, it was 5l., and I altered the 6 to a 5, and then I signed a cheque and gave it back to him—there was
then nothing on it but the 5 and my signature—he said he was going to pay the gas deposit and would soon be back, he went out with the cheque and never returned—the next morning at 4 o'clock I gave information to the police and went to the gas company and then to the bank, where I found that the cheque had been altered to to 305l.—I then took a warrant out—I did not see or hear from him again till he was in custody, nor did I know where he had gone to—we were going into a new business in the same line after we were married—he told me after the marriage as we came to the house that the shop was prepared, and he took me to an empty house—we never started the business—I know his writing, this signature to the cheque is his and this "Pay self and wife," and the words "Three hundred and five" are his writing, all but the 5l. is his—after the marriage I paid into the bank the money I had for dissolving partnership with my sister—no money was paid into the bank after our marriage except mine—I gave the prisoner no authority to alter this amount from 5l. to 305l.
Cross-examined. Cheques were signed by both my husband and myself, and I had no power to draw out money by myself, it would require his signature as well as mine.
Re-examined. I gave him no authority to draw a larger amount than the 5l. for the gas—I had this letter in my husband's writing after he was in custody.
MR. CLUER submitted, under S. 6 of the Married Women's Properly Act, 1882 (45 and 46 Vict., c. 75), that by the act of transferring money belonging before marriage to a wife into the joint names of herself and her husband after marriage, her husband and she became the joint beneficial owners of that property, and therefore such joint property could not be "her own separate property," in respect of which a married woman had a right to institute criminal proceedings against her husband under S. 12 of the Married Women's Property Act, 1882. MR. BESLEY relied on S. 2 of the Act, which provided that a married woman shall hold as "her separate property" "all real and personal property which belonged to her at her marriage," and that the facts in the case would raise the question for the Jury whether by fraud the husband obtained the wife's assent to the transfer; and, if by fraud, her consent to the transfer would be void, and she would retain the property as "her own separate property." The COMMON SERJEANT, having consulted with MR. BARON HUDDLESTON, ruled that if the transfer were made in further and of a subsequent forgery the property would remain the wife's separate property, and that it was a question for the Jury whether the transfer was so made.
CHARLES WATERS . I am manager of the King's Cross branch of the London and County Bank—on 4th November an account of Alice Margaret Furby and Augustus Furby was transferred from Croydon branch of our bank—the amount was 375l. 17s. 5d.—on 5th November one of our clerks, Mr.Judd, came to me to get directions, and I said something to him about the account, he is here—on 6th November the account was operated on by this cheque withdrawing 305l.—I can't say if that was cashed over the counter, it was a Croydon branch cheque, the Croydon was struck out and King's Cross written in—on the 4th 5l. had been withdrawn, nothing was paid in while the account was at King's Cross.
in and said he wished to transfer the account into his own name, as it would be more convenient for him when in the market—I referred to the manager, and in consequence of what he told me I told the prisoner it would be necessary to have both signatures for the account to be transferred to his name—he then went away—the transfer of the account did not take place.
FREDERICK SMYTH . I am manager to Mr. Lavington, a builder of 1A, Woodberry Terrace,—I let a house in Huntingdon Terrace, Green Lanes, Wood Green, to the prisoner under this agreement, dated 13th January this year, and signed by the prisoner in the name of Frederick Roberts—I afterwards saw the prisoner in the premises, and a woman whom he introduced as Mrs. Roberts, or his wife; she was not the prosecutrix—he paid 5l. deposit on the 9th and 20l. or 21l. on 13th January for fitting up a shop—I first saw him with reference to this matter a few days before January 9th.
JOHN ROBINSON (Detective G). I first received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension about 17th or 18th November—I found him on 22nd January at 15, Huntingdon Terrace, Green Lanes, Wood Green, Tottenham, where I saw him leave the house—I said "I will charge you with forging a cheque for 305l. on 6th November last"—he said "Who took out the warrant, the old woman or the bank people?"—I said "The old woman"—he said "I can make it all right with her; I have just taken a business down here, I will turn the woman out that I am living with and take her on"—he also said "I did not forge the cheque, I only placed another figure on"—I took him to the station, he was charged—I searched him at the station and found on him nine 5l. notes, two silver watches, 1l. in gold, and sixpence in silver, a gold albert chain, and other articles—I afterwards went to Huntingdon Terrace and saw a quantity of new furniture there and also a woman who answered to the name of Mrs. Roberts—some fresh furniture came in while I was waiting there.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
269. SAMUEL WILSON PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences from William Stubberfield, on behalf of the City Bank, 42l. 10s., with intent to defraud. (There were two other indictments against the prisoner for forgery. He received a good character).— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 5th, 1885.
Before Mr. Baron Huddleston.
270. KATE PHILLIPS (48) was indicted for feloniously using a certain instrument upon Fanny Lynch, with intent to procure her miscarriage, and ELIZABETH CALEY for feloniously inciting her to commit the said offence.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. FULTON
appeared for Phillips, and MR. GEOGHEGAN for Caley.
PHILLIPS— GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude. CALEY— NOT GUILTY . ( There was another indictment against the prisoners for a like offence upon Elizabeth Windram, upon which no evidence was offered against Caley.)—
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, February 5th, 1885.
Before Mr. Recorder.
271. THOMAS ROBERT MASON , Unlawfully conspiring with Henry Turner to induce Walter George Holborough to take Turner into his employment as barman. Second Count, inducing him to take Turner into his employ by false pretences. Other Counts for conspiring to steal the moneys of W.G. Holborough.
The prisoner, by the advice of his Counsel, refused to plead to the Second Count, and pleaded NOT GUILTY to the other Counts, and the RECORDER directed a plea of NOT GUILTY to be entered upon the Second Count.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MESSRS. BLACKWELL and HOPKINS Defended.
WALTER GEORGE HOLBOROUGH . I keep the Golden Anchor, Park Street, Southwark—on August 11th I was in want of a barman, and a man called for the situation who gave his name Henry Owen—I asked him for his references, and in consequence of what he said I went on 11th August to see Mr. Mason, of the King and Queen, Shadwell—on alighting at Shadwell Station I saw Owen, who walked with me to the King and Queen—there are three compartments—I went in at one, Owen at another, and there was a compartment between—he stood about three yards from me, but the conversation was not loud enough for him to hear—I said to Mason "I have been referred to you by Henry Owen, who gives you as a reference as barman; he says he has been with you some months"—he said "He has been with me eight or ten months; he thoroughly understands his business; I discharged him because I was coming into the business myself, and did not require his services" said "Have you any doubt about his honesty?"—he said "No; certainly not," and turned to his wife, who said that she had none—he said "He has been away from here a month"—we spoke about business, and it came out that the prisoner had been a clerk at some docks ten years, or some such time—it did not occur to me to say "He is in the house now"—the prisoner did not mention him by any other name than Owen—he came into my service on Wednesday evening, August 13th, and remained till midday on the Monday, when I told him I had heard that he had been convicted, and had a bad character generally, and told him to pack up his boxes and be off—I keep a daily takings book, and while he was with me the takings fell off, but after he left they resumed the same standard as before—I have not seen him since—I did not go back and see Mason; I placed the matter in the hands of the Society.
Cross-examined. I am not prosecuting; I did not charge Owen—it was the week following Bank-holiday week that he was with me—customers would be more flush of cash the following week—Owen did not mention at what house he had been barman with Mr.Mason; he did not say "Mr.Mason, of the King and Queen, Tite Street, will give me a reference"—he did not say when we got to Mason's that Mr.Mason would give him a character—I did not know that there was a Mrs. Mason, but the barmaid fetched her, and I may have told her I came to get a reference for Owen—I did not see any potman; I did not see any man there till Mr. Mason came—I was there under half an hour—I did not know that before marrying Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason was a Mrs. Pusey, and that Owen had been some time in her service, but I have found it out since—I do not know that she kept the Surrey Light Horse public-house, or that
Owen was in her husband's employ, but I have heard since that during her late husband's illness he managed the place for two years—I did not mention the falling off to Owen.
Re-examined. On the Friday on which Owen was with me I first heard Turner's name mentioned by a customer in connection with Owen—some weeks after I turned Owen away I made a communication at Shadwell Police-station; it was in October—I received a letter from the Secretary to the Society during the week Owen was with me—when I asked for Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason came forward, and I had a conversation with her about Owen, but did not apply to her for the reference—she said nothing about having been Mr. Pusey's widow; I heard that from somebody who knew her—I knew nothing about Owen being at Mr.Pusey's.
GEORGE STUART (Police Inspector II). It is part of my duty to attend to matters relating to licences in the district where the King and Queen is situated—Henry Owen was the previous tenant; the licenco was transferred to him on January 12. 1884—the previous tenant was George Jarbom—he continued uuder that licence up to the annual licensing meeting, when his application was adjourned in consequence of my serving him with a notice of opposition—I had had him identified by an officer who knew him—the Magistrates heard it through, and directed him to withdraw his application for a licence, and the house was closed, and remained closed till May 5—I may have allowed him to continue for a few days—when Mason applied the usual inquiries were made by me—I saw him on the evening of transfer day, May 5, when the licence was confirmed, and said "I have been deceived by Mr. Owen, and he will deceive you, or any one else if he can"—the grant was made under Sec. 14—I spoke to him about Owen; he is in the licence as Owen, not as Turner—on May 16 Owen was charged with being drunk and riotous in the street, and the defendant bailed him out—I said "I am surprised, Mr.Mason, that you should bail that man out, after what I said to you some time since"—he said he would do it for any one in trouble, he did it with the best intention—he was in the name of Henry Owen, barber, of Rotherhithe—Owen was only employed at the King and Queen, where he was the master, and had the licence; he was not a servant there.
Cross-examined. He might not bo employed casually without my knowing it—an excellent character was given to Mason; he was nine years in one employment—he is still the holder of the King and Queen; there is no charge against him—Owen's conviction was in 1878, in this Court; he was also convicted at Rotherhithe—his licence was taken away by the Commissioners in consequence of his conviction.
Re-examined. Owen has also been charged with an assault.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 5th, and
~NEW COURT.—Friday, February 6th, 1885.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and GOODRICH Prosecuted; MR. WILLES Defended.
fore Mr. Paget with by force and fraud taking away a male child, Charles George Dollar, under 13 years old, from the possession of Margaret Powney, his guardian—these are the original depositions—Elizabeth Bailey Dellar, of 118, Elthorne Road, Hornsey, was charged on this warrant, dated 22nd September—she was remanded till 2nd October, and then till 9th October, when she was committed—on 25th September the prisoner, Mary Powney, was examined, and the depositions were taken down by Mr. Halle, the second clerk—on the second occasion I acted as clerk, and took the evidence—on the 9th she was brought up again, and the evidence she had given on 25th September and 2nd October was read to her, and she said "My evidence now read to me is all true," and she signed both depositions—on 9th October she gave further evidence, which was read to her; she signed it—on that day three witnesses. Adelaide Butler, Simmonds, and Saltwell, called for her, were produced to her—Mrs. Dellar was kept in custody for about a fortnight, and on the 9th a woman named Lovelock, who had assisted in taking the child away, was charged, and they were both committed to this Court on a charge of felony. (The prisoner's deposition was then read. The portions upon which the perjury was assigned were that she had never received anything for taking charge of the child, that she took it and provided for it on her own account, that she was in the habit of writing her own letters, and never got any one else to write letters for her, and that she had expressed no intention of giving the child up, nor said she did not wish to keep it, and that she never told Hunter, or Simmonds, or Saltwell that she received 5s. a week for the keep of the child.)
Cross-examined. Mr. Paget gave no reason why he remanded Mrs. Dellar in custody—on 2nd October he asked from the niece Lovelock's address, the warrant was not executed against her, and then he asked for her address—Mrs. Dellar consulted her solicitor then, I think—I can't say if she refused to give the address, nor whether that was the reason she was remanded in custody—as far as I remember he said that he would remand her till the other prisoner could be charged with her.
MAYO FORBES . I am a solicitor of 97, Cannon Street—I acted as solicitor to Elizabeth Bailey Dellar and her husbaud—before taking away the child in September she had consulted me as to getting possession of the child—I advised her, and as her solicitor wrote various letters to the prisoner with a view of getting the child, and then Mrs. Dellar, assisted by a niece, took the child—I appeared before the Magistrate on 2nd and 9th October, and, acting on Mrs. Dellar's instructions, cross-examined Mrs. Powney—I showed the two letters of November l5th, 1882, and March, 1883, and stated the substance of them; she looked at them—the denial that she wrote the letters, or that she got anybody to write letters for her, is with regard to those two letters, and so the Magistrate refused to allow me to use them—I could not trace them to the prisoner at that time—Mrs. Dellar was committed for trial here—I got bail for her, and in November, before the long vacation ended, applied to Mr. Justice Chitty for a writ of habeas corpus to have the child delivered up to my client—that was before the next Session of the Central Criminal Court—Mr. Justice Chitty made the order, and the child was delivered up to us—the Grand Jury throw out the bill against Dellar and Lovelock and I reported the matter to the Director of Public Prosecutions—I was acting as Mrs. Dellar's solicitor in April, 1884, when she summoned the prisoner at Clerkenwell for taking away her child in March, 1883—that
summons was dismissed, as the defendant put up what she considered a claim, but Mr. Hosack said he agreed with the judgment of the Master of the Rolls in the Queen v. Nash which I quoted, that the relations on the mother's side should have the care of a child although illegitimate.
Cross-examined. Mr. Hosack said that was the law, but that it was not the point now before him, and the summons was dismissed.
LOUISA STOCKS . I am the wife of Alfred Stocks, of 8, Ladbrook Terrace, Vicars Road, Upper Teddington—I know Mrs. Dellar as coming to Mrs. Powney's at 38, Helmer Street, Kensington—I remember Mrs. Dellar's daughter coming there in November, 1881, going to the hospital for her confinement, and Mrs. Powney having the child after that—I have seen Mrs. Dellar going to Mrs. Powney's since then—I lived at No. 31—I remember Mrs. Powney asking me to write some letters for her, she can write—I wrote this of 15th November, 1882, for her on the day it bears date—she asked me to, and I wrote what she told me, and I signed it for her—she gave as a reason for my doing it that she was busy—I directed it, I did not post it—I wrote this of March, 1883; she asked me to and told me what to say, and I wrote it—I signed her name for her, she was very busy at the time—I have not seen her write, I know she can—I directed it—those are the only two I wrote for her.
(The letter of 15th November, 1882, from the prisoner, stated that she must have the child back again, that if Mrs. Dellar could not bring him she would fetch him, and that he must stay for the winter, and in the spring he would better understand going away; that she did not wish to keep him from Mrs. Dellar, but thought it better for him, and that she wanted nothing for keeping him if Mrs. Dellar would find his clothes.)
(The letter of March, 1883, stated that the weather was too cold for the child to go to-morrow, but that as soon as it permitted he should come, and contained the passages "You can have him, I don't want to keep him, and you ought to have had him two years back; but... when there is any work to do you are ill, I am very sorry I ever had him.")
Cross-examined. I was living opposite to Mrs. Powney's when the young girl came there—I knew she came to be confined; I saw Dr. Collinson Morley there, he attended her—I did not hear that the doctor advised her to be taken to the hospital on account of fits she had—I used to take the child out when it came; I can't say when it was vaccinated—I can't say how soon after the child's birth I saw Mr. and Mrs. Dellar—I knew them as Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, I did not know them to speak to—I dare say it was about two months after the birth that I saw them first—I used to go across to the house sometimes—Mrs. Powney took charge of the girl Blake, she has no father or mother and lives with the prisoner—the prisoner nursed the infant from its birth, she was in the house all the time—Sarah Blake would know all about the child, she used to nurse it—Emily Butcher is my sister and used to live in the same house as I did, she used to go across to nurse the child sometimes—Louisa Priest is a friend of the prisoner and continually in the house.
Re-examined. They are all friends of the prisoner—Blake is not a relation, but a little orphan girl.
he is a tailor—we then had a daughter, Amelia Jane, unmarried, aged 17—in November, 1880, I was aware she was pregnant, and she and we were desirous that she should leave our house and be confined elsewhere, and we arranged that she should go to the prisoner's house, 34, Helmer Street, Kensington—I had known the prisoner for some years, and my daughter went in November and remained there till 4th December, when she was removed to St. George's Hospital—while at the prisoner's I had visited her on two or three occasions to take her things—we were on friendly terms, I had not ejected her from our house—I was fetched to the hospital by the prisoner, and my husband came in the evening, and that same Saturday evening my daughter was confined of a boy, who was named George Bailey Dellar—I remained at the hospital till about 5 o'clock on Monday evening, when my daughter died—she did not speak to me or the prisoner, she was incapable of doing so while I attended to her—after the child's birth I took charge of it during the Sunday and Monday at the hospital—I think the prisoner was not there—on the Monday evening when my daughter died I, my husband, and the prisoner were at the hospital together—as we left together I asked the prisoner "Will you take charge of the baby for a little while, till I can take it?"—she said she would—afterwards when I went to see her she said that she could not have taken it but that having two little girls with her she could—I handed her the baby on leaving the hospital, she took it to Kensington, and I and my husband went home—before that I bought a feeding-bottle, which I gave to the prisoner, and my husband bought a little brandy for us—I next saw the prisoner about a fortnight afterwards; I then said "Will 5s. a week satisfy you for taking care of the baby?"—she said "Yes"—I saw the baby and paid her half a sovereign I think, and then I paid her every time I went down—I went once a week or once a fortnight after that without a break—there was never an interval of three weeks between my visits—during that time I regularly paid the prisoner 5s. a week—if I went after a fortnight I paid her 10s.—if it went over the fortnight I would pay up on the next Saturday—I always paid either in advance or afterwards, I never failed for a week—that went on for about a year and nine months, and then the prisoner suggested taking 1s. a week off—I did not wish to do so, but I agreed, and paid her after that 4s. a week instead of 5s.—that continued for about three months, up to the first week in November, 1882, when I fetched the baby home myself from the prisoner's house—she gave it up willingly to me without objection—in addition to the money every week I provided nine frocks, six petticoats, four or five flannel petticoats, four pairs of socks, and six or seven shirts and nightgowns—in fact I provided clothing during those two years, and sent it by the Parcels Delivery Company—I proposed to give the clothes, she did not ask me to find them—my husband accompanied me on several visits on Sundays, and sometimes on Saturday evenings he has gone—I have paid the prisoner money in his presence—after I had taken the child to my house I received this letter dated 34, Helmer Street, 15th November, 1882, and this of 15th March, 1883—the child had been well cared for when I took it—it stayed with me about five weeks till a week before Christmas, and then I went to see the prisoner, taking the baby with me; the prisoner then asked permission to keep the baby for a fortnight—I assented, she kept it three weeks, and then in January I and my husband
fetched it—we went to 34, Helmer Street, and said to the prisoner we had come for the child, and offered her 15s. for the three weeks—she said she would not take more than 5s.—we gave her 5s. and came away—I think about the end of January or beginning of February the prisoner came and I went out with her and took the child—I carried it some way and then she carried it some way, and when she got it in her arms she kept it, and would not let me have it—I followed, she got into a tram and she took the child home with her, and said if I would come next day she would let me have it—I went next day, she would not give the child up—I went again on Palm Sunday with my husband—that was before 28th March; it was some time in March—I then got the child, she gave it up willingly and I brought it home—this letter dated March I had got just before Palm Sunday—on 28th March the prisoner came through my niece's shop into the parlour without speaking—I and my husband live with our niece Mrs. Crook at her confectioner's shop; we have rooms behind—when I got into the parlour she was sitting down with the child on her lap—she said she was going to take the child home with her—I said no, I could not spare it, I could not let him go—I went to take him out of her arms, she pushed me back and opened the door in the passage and ran out of the private door at the side which opens into the street—I followed her—when she got a little way she stopped and unpinned her dress and brought out a shawl and hat from underneath her shawl and put them on the child—she got into a tram; I asked a constable to make her give the child up; he would not do it, and I went home again—after that I went several times to her house to ask for the child; she refused to give it up—this letter of 18th January, 1884, was the last I received—the Sunday after that I and my husband went to see the prisoner at Helmer Street; he asked her to put the child's things on and we would take it home—she said she would do no such thing and refused to allow it to go; we did not take it—I had not been paying her money after she stole the child—I communicated with our solicitors, and in consequence of their advice took out a summons at the Clerkenwell Police-court, charging the prisoner with abducting the child from our care—the Magistrate dismissed the summons on the ground that it was not within his jurisdiction to determine it—I went afterwards and made repeated claims for the child, she always refused to give it up; sometimes she would not let me see him at all, but shut the door in my face—on the 13th September I went to Helmer Street with my niece Lovelock and took the child up, and my niece drove it to our house in a cab, and I returned by railway—I did did not see the prisoner on that day—on 25th September I was arrested on a warrant and kept in custody for a fortnight till Lovelock was taken up—I refused to give the child up and preferred to remain in custody—the child was given up while I was in prison—I was committed for trial by Mr. Paget and then admitted to bail—my solicitors applied to Mr. Justice Chitty for a writ of habeas corpus to bring up the child, and the child was given to me and I have had it ever since—the Grand Jury ignored the bill against me here and I was not called on to take my trial—Mrs. Crook, my other niece and landlady, has been with me to see the prisoner more than once—she has been alone—Caroline Simmons and Adelaide Hunter were lodgers with the prisoner—Mary Ann Salter and Sarah Butler lives opposite the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for 20 years, I care say, intimately; she is a respectable woman—I don't know much about her, more than she was a neighbour of my husband's father—my husband is a journeyman tailor; he gives me 25s. a week, I can't say how much he earns—the prisoner is a widow—I saw her husband once or twice; I don't know if he was a sergeant in the Guards, I don't know what he was—the prisoner was not present at my marriage—I don't know who was the father of my daughter's child; she did not tell me; I made no inquiry—the prisoner came to my place and offered to let my daughter go to her place, and I agreed—I had no other children living at that time, there was only myself, my husband, and daughter; my husband was not particularly angry—he did not threaten to turn her out of doors—it was her wish to go to the prisoner's to be confined, and the prisoner agreed to it—I told her I would pay her whatever she wished—my daughter was there a month and two days—I offered to pay the prisoner and she pushed me out of the door; that was the last time I was down there—I offered to pay her before, and she said it was not money she wanted; whatever she wished I was willing to pay—I offered to pay for the board and lodging many times, and she would never tell me what she wanted—my daughter was attended by a doctor, and it was settled I was to pay him, but he never charged anything, because she went to the hospital—the prisoner has never mentioned that she paid it; I have not inquired if she did; she would have told me if she had—the prisoner took a cab for my daughter to go to the hospital; I gave my husband a half-sovereign to pay the prisoner for that cab; I wanted to pay her the same evening, and she would not have it—the arrangement that I was to pay 5s. to her for talking the child was after I went down to Helmer Street—no arrangement was come to at the hospital; I only said "If you take the child till I can take it, I will pay you whatever you ask," and I said, when going to the railway, "Shall I pay you anything to-night?" and she said "Don't give me anything"—I could not take the child, because I was not at all well at the time; I was unable to do anything for a long time, and we wanted to remove too; I could not say exactly when we removed—my husband registered the child's name—the prisoner said she had it christened in the name of Thomas George—my husband gave the prisoner the paper to have it vaccinated, and she said she had taken it to the public vaccinator, and did not pay anything—the arrangement of 5s. a week was made a fortnight after she had the child, and remained till I had it home—I should have had it home before, but she made excuses till it had got another tooth through—the child first came to my place the first week in November, 1882, when it was getting on for two years old—it was not then intended that the child was only to go home for a visit of a week—I took part of the child's clothing and things—I found all the clothes myself—I did not see the child wearing any clothes which I had not provided, except a little bit of lace which the prisoner had put on—Mrs. Ashford was not friends with the prisoner at that time—the prisoner wanted to claim the child; she alleged that my daughter had asked her to look after it—my daughter did no such thing—the prisoner did not tell me this till after she stole the child, in March, 1883—she did not say my daughter had told other people that she wanted the prisoner to have the child—the child came to me in November, 1882, and stayed till a week before Christmas,
then I took it back to tho prisoner—I next had it at Holloway a fortnight after Christmas, 1883, for a week and a day, then the prisoner took it away out of my arms—I asked her to give it up, and visited her regularly, but took no legal steps till March, 1884, and then I consulted my solicitor—she took the child away twice before March, 1883—I paid nothing after I paid the 15s. down in January, 1883, when I claimed the child—prisoner kept it from January, 1883, to November, 1884, for nothing—I provided clothes, boots and socks, and other things—I went to the house continually—I didnot take tea with the prisoner after she stole it—I accepted no hospitality in her house—we were not so friendly after 1883 as before—I did not once send out for something stronger than tea—the summons I took out in April, 1884, was dismissed, and the prisoner took the child back again—after that I went inside the prisoner's house and asked for the child—I am positive I did not see her then on friendly terms, and take tea with her; I never had anything there; neither I nor my husband had anything in her company anywhere—I took no legal steps from March to September, 1884, when I went with my niece to Kensington—I was arrested for stealing the child—I don't think I was asked before Mr. Paget to give my niece's address.
Re-examined. After I tried to get the child back, and could not, I paid no more money for its keep—after the failure of the summons I acted under my solicitor's advice, and carried off the child—my niece who was taken into custody is about 31 years old—I asked her to assist me.
THOMAS BAILEY DELLAR . I am the last witness's husband—we have been living at Elthorne Road, Upper Holloway—I have known the prisoner for about 20 years—I heard she was good enough to say my daughter might be confined in her house—we had then been living in Camden Town about two years—I am a journeyman tailor—we were anxious she should be confined away from home, and made arrangements with Mrs. Powney to that effect, and she went to live there—my wife and the prisoner came to fetch me to the hospital on Saturday night—I got there after the confinement—on Monday one of the hospital attendants came to fetch me about 6 o'clock—when I got there my daughter was dead—my wife had been at the hospital before me—the prisoner was not at the hospital then; she did not go there till after the death; I went to fetch her and met her coming there—we handed the child over that night to the prisoner to take care of, and she did take care of it—we asked her if we gave her 5s. a week if that would be sufficient, and she said "Yes"—up to the autumn of 1882 I used from time to time to go over with my wife to see the baby; she went oftener than I did—I have been on Sundays and Saturday nights—when I have been with my wife I have seen her pay the money to the prisoner; sometimes, if a week were missed, I have seen 10s. paid for two weeks; I have not seen 15s. paid for three weeks—I cannot remember if I ever paid money—afterwards my wife told me she had reduced it to 4s.—she had to pay this out of the 25s. or 26s. a week I allowed her—I should say I have seen my wife pay altogether about half a dozen times—after a time the prisoner did not want to part with the child, and after that we paid her nothing—I remember the child coming home in March, and being taken away—ultimately we found we could not get it back, and my wife went to a solicitor, Jennings and Forbes, in February, 1884—I had to pay the solicitor's bill—we left
it to them—I registered the death of my daughter and the birth of the child.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's husband was a sergeant pensioned from the Guards—I might have heard them say that she accompanied him through the Crimean War, I can't remember—I always took her to be a thoroughly respectable woman—my daughter was my only child—I was not angry with her—we did not keep her at home because we did not want all the world to know it, we wanted to keep it quiet till it had blown over—I did not know the father of the child, my daughter was outraged and she never knew the father, I have made no inquiries—an arrangement was made that the prisoner should be paid what she charged for keeping my daughter—nothing was paid, because my daughter, while there, worked about the place, I understand, and Mrs. Powney would not take anything—a doctor was engaged, and the prisoner told us his charges would be 2l.; and we were going to pay him, but the doctor, when he saw her, said he did not care about the case and sent her to the hospital—I asked the prisoner if the doctor expected to be paid, and she said "No"—I understood my wife to say she had paid something for some medicine and for the cab in which my daughter went to the hospital—I did not, I was not there at the time, my wife gave me no money to pay for it—I don't remember her giving me half a sovereign to pay for it—the arrangement of 5s. a week was made about a fortnight afterwards—I don't know if I and my wife then went together—the arrangement was for as long as the prisoner could keep the child; first she said she did not know how long she might be able to take charge of it, there was no time settled for the time being and the termination of it depended more on her than on me—I allowed my wife 25s. or 26s. a week, out of which she paid the 5s.—I made no difference to her house-keeping money for keeping the child—25s. or 26s. a week is not all I earn, that is for housekeeping and incidental expenses—when I paid the 5s. my wife had given it to me—to the best of my recollection I always paid it to the prisoner myself, I could swear to it, I don't think anybody else was present when I did so—she generally had children knocking about the place—Sarah Blake was never there, I never paid anything in her presence—my wife was queer after my daughter's confinement, not laid up—I have heard that the prisoner said my daughter had requested her to look after the child, I have heard that from the prisoner.
Re-examined. The doctor was to be paid 2l., but he did not like the case and had her removed to the hospital, I don't know if the prisoner paid him for that visit—my wife bought and paid for the feeding bottle after we left the hospital, and the prisoner took it.
MR. GUNNER (Re-examined). This is the deposition of Caroline Simmons taken by me—she was sworn and examined on the prisoner's behalf—the deposition was read to her, and she signed it as being correct.
ALFRED GEORGE WELLS . I am a registered medical practitioner—I have been attending Caroline Simmons at 15, Elmar Street, Kensington, the last nine days, she is is too ill to come to the Court and give evidence.
The deposition of Caroline Simmons being read stated: "I had been a lodger at Mrs. Powney's for about 12 or 13 months; I had known her,
having seen her a great number of times before I went to lodge there. I had lived in the same street. I knew she kept a child, she told me she received 5s. a week for keeping it, afterwards she told me she received 4s. a week. She said she was fond of the child and did not want to lose it. She told me she had on one occasion gone to the grandmother's with a hat under her cloak and a shawl round her waist. She said she went through the shop and took up the child, and she was going to take it, but the grandmother would not let her. She said she walked out with the child and put on the hat and shawl and took it away. She said Mrs. Dellar came and tried to get the child back. Mrs. Powney told me she had received no money since she had stolen the child away."
SARAH BUTLER . I am the wife of Robert Butler, 87, Queen Street, Hammersmith—in December, 1880, I went to live with the prisoners and lodged there till June, 1881—during that time I saw both Mr. and Mrs. Dollar there—I saw them come about every fortnight, sometimes one used to come and sometimes the other, and sometimes they came together—when I went there the child was there—I was present on one occasion when Mr. Dollar had a conversation with the prisoner relating to the child—Mrs. Dellar said she would give Mrs. Powney 5s. a week until they were able to take the child—Mrs. Powney said "Very well"—subsequently I have seen Mrs. Dellar pay to Mrs. Powney 5s. and sometimes 10s.—I was frequently there when the money was paid—I am quite sure of that—I have also seen Mrs. Dellar bring clothes for the baby besides money—Mrs. Powney has told her what clothes the baby has wanted, and then Mrs. Dellar brought them the next time she came—I sometimes worked at the baby's clothes out of kindness.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Powney is a laundress in a fair way of business—I went away from Mrs. Powney's about the middle of June—I have some children—the husband did not leave when I did, he remained behind at Mrs. Powney's with our children—I was not turned away, I went away of my own accord, and I came back and kicked up a row and broke a window because they would not let me in, and I was charged at the police-court by Mrs. Powney and got a month—I said at the Hammersmith Police-court that I was not fined—I said at Bow Street that on one occasion I received half a sovereign from Mrs. Dellar for Mrs. Powney; that is quite true—the child was two or three weeks old when I first went there—that was the first time that I had seen Mrs. Dellar when she made the arrangement of 5s. a week—I don't know how old the child was then, but it had not been christened.
Re-examined. The evidence I have given here to-day as to this money is perfectly correct—I did not come forward and give this evidence, I was supoenaed here.
ADELAIDE HUNTER . I live at 21, Ely Street, Kensington, and work as a laundress—I knew the prisoner from September, 1881, till June, 1883—I was living at her house, 34, Elmar Street, during that time—she had charge of a child, and I used to see Mrs. Dellar come to the house, and the prisoner has told me that Mrs. Dellar was the child's grandmother, and she showed me clothes which she had brought, and she said the grandmother always made a mistake in making the clothes too small—I have not seen anything given to the prisoner by Mrs. Dellar, but she said she received 5s. a week for the baby from the grandmother—I remember that distinctly—at a later time she told me the 5s. was lowered
to 4s., so that she might be enabled to keep the child longer, as she never intended the grandmother or grandfather to have the child till he was 4 or 5—I have seen Mrs. Dellar come to the house on several occasions, several times on Sunday.
Cross-examined. I first heard about this case at Bow Street—I was served with a paper to appear there—no one came to see me about this case; I gave no information about it—I left Mrs. Powney's in September; I had paid up all my rent; I left in debt, but I paid it in the County Court—I did not owe her 13s., only 6s. 6d., but unfortunately I did not think I required any witness at the County Court, and therefore she gained the day, and I had to pay 1l. altogether with the costs—I never received a judgment summons—I have paid all the money, and I can bring the bills to show—I attended at Bow Street on a subpoena.
MARIA SALTWELL . I am the wife of John Saltwell, of 31, Elmar Street—I know the prisoner—I remember the child being brought to her house in December, 1880—I knew that as a neighbour; I live right opposite—I worked for her two years as a laundress—the next morning after the child was brought I was asked to wash it, and I washed and dressed it every morning for the first month—I first saw Mrs. Dellar at the prisoner's house about a fortnight after the child was brought there, and frequently afterwards—Mrs. Powney said that Mrs. Bailey Dellar paid 5s. a week for the child, and that she often came—some few months after the child came the prisoner gave me a velvet jacket, asked me to pledge it, and said she would take it out when Mrs. Dellar brought George's money—I have seen clothing brought by Mrs. Dellar for the child.
Cross-examined. I know Sarah Blake; she acted as nurse to the child from the commencement to the end, and lived in the house—I know Mrs. Chapman—there was a little dispute between us about a box—she took a box from my place and left it with Mrs. Powney—she alleged I took something out of the box, and Mrs. Powney came to my house and spoke to me, and we had a few little words, but it was nothing to do with this case.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOSEPH COLEMAN . I am a railway guard—I have known Mrs. Powney six or seven years—I do not know a girl named Dellar—I knew one named Bailey being brought to Mrs. Powney's house four years ago, and she sent for me to render what assistance I could, as the girl was taken with fits—I did so, and a doctor came and ordered her to be taken to a hospital—I took her there in a cab, carrying her on my lap as much as possible—previous to arriving there she said to the prisoner "If anything happens to me will you take charge of the child?" she said "I will do the same with that as I have done with you"—the girl requested me not to take her home, as her friends were ashamed of her—I took her to the hospital and paid for the ca✗b out of my own pocket, and neither the man or the woman have ever asked me yet whether they should compensate me.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner from four to six years—I formerly lodged in her house, and we were on very friendly terms—the doctor came to the house, but did not attend the girl through her confinement—she was very ill—I saw her have two fits, but she had had some previously—she was not unconscious in the cab to my knowledge—I was
called at Hammersmith—I did not appear when the prisoner was charged at Clerkenwell.
SARAH BLAKE . I am 14 years old—I lived with Mrs Powney—my father died four years ago, I am no relative of the prisoner—I remember Miss Bailey coming to our house a little over four years ago, she used to come to see Mrs. Powney as a friend—she came to our house to be confined, she said her mother did not want her there—I had no conversation with her, I remember her being taken ill and taken away—I remember Mrs. Powney coming with the boy, and two little girls who were staying at our house used to mind it—I remember Mrs. Dellar coming to our house for the first time, just after the baby was vaccinated, and it was then about three months old, I remember that perfectly—I did not see her in the house before it was vaccinated—it was vaccinated at the public vaccination place—when Mrs. Dellar came she would be shown into the parlour, the child would be taken in, and sometimes she used to take him and sometimes he ran about the room—I never saw or heard of any money passing—I remember the child going to the Dellars' house on a visit, he was then about two years old—the Dellars were still in the habit of visiting, sometimes every three weeks, sometimes every month, and sometimes every six weeks—they did not come till after he was two years old, because they wanted him, and she would not let them have him.
Cross-examined. I was ten years old then—Mrs. Dellar came to see the child about every three weeks, sometimes on Saturday and sometimes on Sunday, generally on Sunday—Mr. Dellar came with her sometimes, but not very often—Mrs. Dellar stayed two or three hours nursing the baby and chatting—I have seen her bring clothes for the baby about half a dozen times in the two years nicely made up, and one pair of boots—I was outside the Hammersmith Police-court one day when this case was heard, I did not go down with Mrs. Powney—I went out of curiosity, I was not called as a witness—I did not talk with Mrs. Hunter outside, I only said a few words to her—I did not tell her that I knew Mrs. Powney had received money for the child and that I had seen her receive it—I only waited there about two minutes, I was walking by.
Re-examined. I know Mrs. Hunter—there is no truth in saying that I told her that I saw Mrs. Powney receive money—Mrs. Dellar did not buy all the clothes that the child wore, she used to buy some, and sometimes Mrs. Powney, and Mrs. Ashford did sometimes, a relation of Mrs. Bailey—Mr. Dellar has spoken to me about the child—sometimes I used to call the baby "Tommy," and he told me not to do so, but call him by his right name, as he would not have him called after him.
By the JURY. I stayed there the whole time, Mrs. Dellar was there on several occasions—I burned my hand and I was not allowed to go out of the room, I stayed in that room over a year and was there every time Mrs. Dellar came.
EMILY BUTCHER . I live at 31, Elmar Street, and am Mrs. Stock's sister—I know Mrs. Powney, she lives at No. 34, right opposite—I remember Miss Bailey coming to the prisoner's house—I did not know her to have any conversation with her, but I knew she was there and I remember a little baby coming afterwards—I was in the habit of going in to see Sarah Blake—I knew Mr. and Mrs. Bailey Dellar by sight, I first saw them at the prisoner's house on the Monday after the child was vaccinated—I was not there all the time they were there, I was not there
constantly, I saw them there sometimes on Sundays—I never saw any money pass or heard of it.
Cross-examined. I shall be 13 next May—I often saw Mrs. Dellar there on Sundays, but not every Sunday, about once in three weeks—Mr. Dellar did not come very often—Mrs. Powney had one other baby besides this one to take care of, she used to take in children to nurse and was paid for it—I used to go in to Mrs. Powney's pretty often on Sundays, I was a friend of hers, not a servant.
AMELIA ASHFORD . I have been a friend of Mrs. Powney for years—I am stepmother to Mrs. Bailey Dellar—I knew Miss Bailey Dellar perfectly well, she was my grandchild, I did not know anything about her getting into trouble till after she was dead—I live in the next street to Mrs. Powney—I remember the child coming to Mrs. Powney's, but I didn't go to see it till after the Clerkenwell trial, but I had seen the child many times before—I first heard that the child was born about a week afterwards from Mr. Butcher, though I went to see the girl lying dead—I know nothing about any money—I have bought clothes for the child, and had them made.
By the COURT. I did not enter the prisoner's house from April, 1880, to 1884, not till after the Clerkenwell affair, because they never allowed the girl to come to my house.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of her previous kindness to the child. — Four Months' without Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, February 6th, 1885.
Before Baron Huddleston.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. FULTON
WILLIAM TOOLE . I am a printer of 62, Compton Street—on Sunday, 4th January, at 12.15 a.m., I went to the Crown coffee-house in St. John Street for a pot of ale—I was outside at the door when a man named Bartlett stood on the step and prevented my going in—he struck me a violent blow on the left cheek which knocked me down—the witness Rogers came to my assistance, and as he was assisting me up the prisoner ran out of the coffee-shop with about eight or nine others; he said to Rogers "What do you want?"—Rogers said "Nothing;" with that the prisoner aimed a blow at Rogers, who made a blow at him back again—I saw the prisoner put his hand in his coat pocket behind—Rogers said "Look, he is drawing a knife"—I said to Rogers "Let's run away," and we both ran away—as I was running I heard the report of a pistol the bullet whizzed past our ears—we were running arm in arm—I turned off and ran up John Street and Rogers up Mitre Court—the prisoner followed Rogers and fired a second shot, I heard the report—I then saw the prisoner run out of Mitre Court into John Street; he had a revolver in his hand; he pointed it at somebody at the bottom of the court, and said "Do you want one?" he then ran away—a constable came up andfs
gave chase and the prisoner was stopped by another policeman—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. When I went to the Crown it was past 12, and the house was closed—I did not go there with Rogers, I went by myself with a can to get some beer—the servant and landladly, Mrs. Miller, did not refuse to serve mo because it was past the hour and I was drunk; I swear that—I did not force my way in and say if she did not serve me I would make it b—hot for her—she did refuse to serve me, and I said "I will take no for an answer"—I said "If you won't serve me you shan't serve anybody else"—I did not strike Bartlett with my can, he knocked me down and I fell in the road—a gang of roughs did not come out of Mitre Court, only Rogers came—he made a blow at the prisoner, I don't know whether it hit him—I did not see his mouth and nose bleed.
WILLIAM ROGERS . I am a tinman's labouror, and live at 9, Albert House, Bell Alley, Goswell Road, St. Luke's—about ten minutes past 12 on the morning of 4th January I was standing in St. John Street at the bottom of Mitre Court talking to Harry Toole, the last witness's brother—I saw Bartlett knock William Toole down—I ran across the road and assisted him up—the prisoner and eight or nine more rushed out of the side door of the coffee-house—the prisoner came up to me and asked what I wanted—I said "Nothing;" he turned round and punched me on the left cheek—I returned the blow—he put his hand into his inside coat pocket—I halloed out to the people round "Look, he is pulling out a knife"—I ran backwards; as I was running he pulled out a revolver and fired—I and William Toole were running with his right arm by his side—I heard the report of the pistol, and the bullet whistled by my right ear—I saw the pistol; it was presented at me and fired—I was about eight or nine feet from him at the most—I then turned round and ran across the road up Mitre Court; the prisoner followed me—I had got about thirty feet up the court when I heard a second report and felt something going through my right arm like a needle—I ran up the court and tumbled down in a doorway, where I remained till somebody came and picked me up; the blood was running down my arm—I was taken to St. Bartholomew's Hospital and was there eight or nine days—the bullet has never been extracted—the prisoner was a perfect stranger to me.
Cross-examined. I did not go across with Toole and seek to force an entrance into the beerhouse—there was no gang of roughs, only those who rushed out of the coffee-house—I was the only one that ran across the road—I did not set on the prisoner—I was not drunk, nor was Toole that I know—I do not belong to a gang of roughs known as the Compton Street gang—I am nineteen years old—I have been in prison four times for loitering; the last time was two years and six months ago, all summary convictions, not for felony—I have been earning an honest living ever since—I did not say to the prisoner "You are about my size, I will have a go at you"—I did not strike him till he struck me.
HENRY BASTIN . I live at Peabody's Buildings, Bunhill Row—I drive a commercial trap—at a quarter past 12 on Sunday morning, 4th February, I was walking up St. John Street towards Clerkenwell Road—I saw some persons standing opposite Mitre Court—I saw the prisoner come out of the crowd and go after William Toole, who was running
away from him—he pointed a pistol at him and fired; it missed him—I then saw him fire a second shot at another man who was running up Mitre Court; that man was wounded—the prisoner held the pistol up at my face and said "Do you want one?"—I said "No," and I fell against the shutters.
Cross-examined. There were about a dozen persons in the road round the coffee-shop, and the prisoner ran out from them and fired at Toole, who was running away.
CHARLES GALLOWAY (Policeman G 297). I was on duty in Peter's Lane, Smithfield—I heard two reports of a pistol—as I went towards the place the prisoner came round the corner with something in his hand shining in front of him—people were shouting out "Stop him"—I caught hold of him, seized his hand, and took this revolver from him—some persons came up and said he had shot some one; he made no answer—I took him back into St. John Street—I there saw Rogers, who said "That man has shot me in the arm"—I took him to the station and handed the revolver to Inspector Clark—the prisoner was perfectly sober.
PARKER CLARK (Police Inspector). I examined the revolver—two chambers contained empty cartridges and four had ball-cartridges in them—I read the charge to the prisoner and cautioned him, and took down what he said. (Read:"When I came out of the coffee-shop a friend of mine was out there, being ill-used by some of these people, four or five, I won't be sure which; the one that was shot came up and said 'You are about my size, I will have a go with you.' Some persons came in between us and punched me on the nose over that fellow's shoulder. I had had a drop of drink, it made me mad; I pulled it out and shot at him, not at anybody else; I shot at him twice. That is the truth; I should not have done it if 1 had been sober.") He appeared perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. Blood appeared to be trickling from his nose.
WILLIAM THOMAS HOLMES SPICER . I was house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital when Rogers was brought there—he had a bullet wound in his right arm; I found no bullet—it is possible it may be in his arm still, or it might have fallen out—he was in the hospital little more than a week, and is still under treatment as an out-patient.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDMUND BARTLETT . I am a packer and warehouseman—I have been lodging at the Crown Coffee House two years—on Saturday, 3rd, the prisoner was also lodging there with two other young men—they were having supper; I had just returned home—we were in a back room at the end of the shop—my attention was first called to some one putting their head over the fanlight of the shop, and immediately after there was a knocking at the private door; there was a second knock, and I went and found that the door had been opened by the servant, and admission was refused—I heard Mrs. Miller counsel the servant to tell them to go away—I saw Rogers and Toole endeavouring to push their way past Mrs. Miller with two quart cans in their hands—she said she could not serve them, it was after hours—Toole then said "You won't serve me, then?"—she said "No"—he said "Then I will make it hot for you, and all your b—y lodgers"—at the same time he raised his quart can, and I being nearest to him, he struck me on the head—I parried the blow and caught it on my arm—I pushed him and he fell out into the side walk—he was decidedly drunk—immediately on that a number of roughs and
women came rushing across from Mitre Court, I should say at least 10, in addition to the two that were already there—they immediately commenced hustling me about and threatening me—I had slipped off the step and pulled the door after me, to try and prevent their entering—Rogers gave his quart can to one of the girls—about this time the prisoner came out from the house, followed by Batt and Moore, the other two young men that were at supper—Rogers said to the prisoner "You are about my size, I will start on you"—Batt stepped between them, Rogers reached over Batt's shoulder and struck the prisoner a violent blow in the mouth with his fist, and immediately on that the mob all closed around, making a great noise—I then saw Batt holding Rogers and Toole, but Rogers broke away and again followed the prisoner, endeavouring with the rest of the mob to strike him—the prisoner was in the middle of the road—he then pulled out his revolver and fired at Rogers—the prisoner gradually retreated down St. John Street, and seeing the whole mob following him he fired a second shot at Rogers, who at that time had gone up Mitre Court—Toole was then about 20 yards up the street—Rogers had his back to the prisoner at the time he fired, running away—the prisoner purchased the revolver some weeks ago, as he was going to Texas—I have known him three years; he is a pocket-book and purse maker—I never knew him to do an injury to any one; as a rule, he was a well-behaved man—I should not think he was very drunk on this occasion—he was rather excited when I went in, as if he had had rather more than usual.
Cross-examined. Both Toole and Rogers were drunk—I first saw the prisoner's revolver about a fortnight before this—he also had an old pistol with one barrel—I said before the Magistrate that he had had a revolver for several months, but I did net mean to convey that he always carried it about his person—I supposed he fired at the man to free himself, to keep him from striking him again if he returned—I think he did it to frighten him, not to hurt him.
GEORGE BATT . I am a lithographer—I was at the Crown Coffee House on this Saturday night a few minutes before 12—I was not lodging there; I generally stopped there on Saturday night; I had engaged a bed—I had been to a music-hall with Darcy and Moore that evening—we were having supper when Bartlett came in—I heard a disturbance, and with Moore went into the passage after the prisoner—I saw Rogers and Toole outside with their coats off challenging the prisoner to fight—I stepped in between them and tried to persuade them to go away—Rogers struck the prisoner in the face over my shoulder—Rogers and Toole seemed half drunk, they were very unsteady on their feet—there was a crowd of, I should say, quite 50 people, persons who were passing and strangers—Rogers broke away from where I was standing, and rushed at the prisoner—I was still holding Toole when I heard the first shot fired—I did not see it fired; I had my back towards the prisoner, keeping Toole away—the people seemed to be quarrelling, and pushing up against the prisoner, and hustling; the best part were Irish, I should say, a rough class—I heard a second shot fired up the court; I saw the flash and heard the report—I afterwards saw the prisoner; his mouth was bleeding and his face covered with blood—the prisoner had had some spirits that night, which he was not used to.
Cross-examined. I did not know that he had a revolver with him that
night—I have known him about nine years—I saw the revolver two or three weeks back—I did not examine it—I don't know whether it was loaded—I heard that he was going to Texas or America in two or three weeks' time—I don't know whether he had taken his passage.
ARTHUR MOORE . I am a waiter—I was with the prisoner and the last witness at the Crown coffee-house—I was with them at the music-hall that evening—a few minutes past 12, after Bartlett came in, I heard a disturbance at the private door; we went out and saw about 30 or 40 people outside—I saw Rogers and Toole standing in front of the prisoner—Bartlett got between them to try and stop them from fighting—Rogers struck the prisoner over Bartlett's shoulder; I then saw Rogers break away from Bartlett, and rush into the road—the people were all round the prisoner—Rogers ran at the prisoner again, and then I heard a shot fired—I saw the flash—I saw the prisoner take the pistol out and fire at Rogers, who was two or three yards off, with his face towards him; it seemed to me as if he fired more in the air—Rogers then ran away towards Mitre Court, the prisoner followed and fired at him again.
Cross-examined. I live at 5, New Street Hill, Shoe Lane—I sleep there, but I generally sleep at the Crown on Saturday—we had very nearly finished supper when this occurred—I did not know that the prisouer was carrying a revolver that night—I have known him about two and a half years—Rogers was very drunk.
ELIZABETH MILLER . I keep the Crown coffee-house—on 3rd January I closed my house as usual—after closing there was an application for admission—my servant went to the door, she called me, and I found Toole and Rogers there—they pushed their way in—it was about five minutes before I could get them out—the prisoner and the witnesses were having their supper, and I was getting the lights for them to go to bed, when a second knock came to the door, and they said "Let us have a pot of ale"—I said "I told you no, I won't; go away, why do you want to annoy me?"—Toole put his foot against the door so that I could not close it—I said "If you don't go I shall have to call some one to help me"—Mr. Bartlett came, and pushed Toole off the step—a lot of people came across from Mitre Court—I did not see the shots fired—I have known the prisoner five years as a customer; he boarded with me nearly four years, a very respectable, quiet young man.
Cross-examined. He does not sleep there, he lives in Norway Street, Old Street, close by—he generally slept at my house on Saturday—I am not allowed to serve drink after hours except to lodgers; I served them with a glass of ale and bread and cheese that night—I did not know that the prisoner had a loaded revolver that night—I knew that he had one three or four months ago.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on Second Count. — Eighteen months Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. CRANSTOUN Prosecuted; MESSRS. CRISP and LOW Defended.
The defendant was a tenant of the prosecutor's, who stated that he had given the prisoner a written notice to quit; the prisoner swore at the County Court that he had not. Upon this the perjury was assigned. It was a voluntary prosecution, the Magistrate having refused to commit. The prisoner was tried for this offence at the last Session, and the Jury being unable to agree were discharged without giving any verdict. On this occasion the Jury found the prisoner NOT GUILTY .
MR. FULTON Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON Defended.
EMMA MORSLEY . I live in Ivy Street, Plumstead—I have a daughter who was barmaid at the Forester's Arms, Plaistow—on 12th January she was taken ill, and was attended by the prisoner—I saw him at the Foresters' Arms on that day; he thought my daughter was suffering from inflammation of the lungs—on Wednesday, the 14th, I saw him again; he then said she was suffering from smallpox—my nephew, Walter Morsley, was present—the prisoner asked me if I would pay three guineas to have her taken to the Smallpox Hospital at Highgate—of course I consented, as I could not take her home—he said "If you will pay me the three guineas I will take her, and a guinea for the brougham, she will be there till she is quite restored, and I will bring her home and give you a letter for her to go to a convalescent home for a month"—I borrowed the three guineas of my nephew and gave it to the prisoner, and my nephew gave him the guinea for the brougham, and the prisoner gave me these two receipts—he told my nephew that he had got an ordor for her admission to the Highgate Hospital, and he would come with the brougham at ten minutes past 6 to take her—he did not come till half-past 11 at night—my daughter was put in, and the prisoner drove away with her—he said he was going straight to Highgate, and he thought he should arrive there about 1—I saw him next morning, and he said he had left her at the Highgate Hospital with every care—he said he should see her twice a week and he would write to me on Friday; not hearing from him I sent a boy to him on the Sunday to know why he had not written—on the 20th I saw him again—he said he had seen my daughter again, and she was going on favourably, and if I would give him 5s. he would get her some oranges and grapes—I had not 5s., but I gave him 1s.—I gave him the four guineas, thinking she would be taken to Highgate to be taken care of there till she was well; if I had known she was going to be taken to some place round the corner I should not have parted with my money.
Cross-examined. I did not say anything before the Magistrate about the order for the hospital, my nephew did—I asked the prisoner if it was for a week or more, and he said until she was perfectly recovered—I have seen my daughter since—I don't believe she had been properly cared for; she is much better now, I have had to get a nurse for her—I don't know that the prisoner paid 2l. 17s. 6d. for her at the lodging; the woman says he gave her 10s. 6d. and promised to send her nourishment, but he never saw her or sent hor medicine or anything up to the time I saw her on the Monday—it was nearly a fortnight after she went away that I saw her—I don't know that he called in Dr. Meyer and paid him
twice—he said he had sent a nurse, but there has been no nurse or any nourishment.
WALTER WILLIAM MORSLEY . I am landlord of the Foresters' Arms—the last witness's daughter was my barmaid—on Sunday, 11th January, she was taken ill, and on the morning of the 12th I sent for her mother—I met the prisoner casually in the street, and knowing him as connected with the medical profession, I asked him to go and have a look at the girl—he first of all said he thought it was typhoid fever—he saw her again on the 13th, and then told me it was a case of smallpox—I said "What is the best thing to do?"—he said "We must have her out of this, she cannot stop here," and he proposed sending her home to her mother—I said "She can't go home, because there arefive children at home"—on Wednesday her mother came—the prisoner then said "I have been down to Plaistow (there is a small-pox hospital there), Plaistow is full, but I have got an order for Highgate Hospital for you;" he said he would go and get an ambulance and be back before six—I paid him a guinea first for the ambulance—he said "The charge for admittance to Highgate would be three guineas"—my aunt had not the money, and I gave it to her, and she gave it to the prisoner—the prisoner drew out these receipts in my presence—he did not come till about 11, and she was then taken away—on 20th January I saw the prisoner again, he then said he had been to see her at Highgate, and she was getting on nicely, he was going to see her again the same afternoon, and he wanted to get her a few grapes and oranges, and I gave him 5s. to purchase them, and he gave me this receipt.
Cross-examined. He said three guineas would be the charge for the hospital—it was not at my request that he came for her late; after closing time he proposed to come at 10 minutes to 6, and as he did not come I went to him, and he said he would come as soon as he could.
HERBERT GOULD . I am medical officer of the Smallpox Hospital, Highgate—no written order has to be obtained by persons applying for admission; they have to get my consent to come, and pay five guineas—the only order is in the case of Local Boards—I did not receive any application for the admission of Catherine Morsley in January, no such person has been a patient there—I know nothing of the prisoner—I never saw him to my knowledge, or had any communication with him.
Cross-examined. Application is always made beforehand to know whether there is room and whether I can admit the case—if application is made to a relieving officer he would telegraph to me—the hospital has been full for the last few weeks; of course cases go out at times, and if we have vacancies we admit.
WILLIAM BETTERIDGE . I am a cab-driver of Albert Road, Plaistow—on 14th January, at half-past 11 at night, the prisoner took my cab to the Foresters' Arms for a smallpox patient—my cab is called an ambulance, and is only used for smallpox patients—I drove the young woman to 22, George Street, Plaistow, it is only 200 or 300 yards from the Foresters' Arms—she was taken out there and taken inside the house.
FREDERICK DICKER (Police Serjeant). On 27th January, about a quarter past 6, I went to Stock Street, Plaistow, and there saw the prisoner—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest—he said "Yes, over that vaccination case"—I said "I will read the warrant and you will hear"—I read it to him; it was for obtaining four guineas by false pretences—he
said "How can I cheat and defraud when I have paid for the girl's maintenance elsewhere than the hospital?"
Cross-examined. I took him at his house where he lived—he has been living there for some little time—there was no name on the door—it was an ordinary private house.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate."I have nothing further to say except that she was being well cared for where she was, and I have been spending the money in buying things for her use."
NOT GUIITY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted; MR. FOOKS Defended.
SIDNEY DOWNER . I live at 24, Wool Exchange, and am a clerk to Sydney Herbert Jewel and Co., merchants, who have a house in Sydney and one in London—about the end of December I received this bill of lading, dated 31st December, referring to a case of merchandise marked "J. D. and Co.," as being shipped on the Garonne from Sydney to London—I also received an invoice which stated what the goods were. (The invoice was dated Sydney, 13th November, 1884, and gave a list of gold and silver watches.) That invoice is supposed to be the contents of the case, the value altogether was 195l. 18s.—the Garonne arrived at the Royal Albert Docks on 13th December—I attended at the Custom House and passed the entry and declared the true contents of the case as they appeared on the invoice—I then transmitted the bill of lading to the office of the London and St. Katherine's Dock Company that they might obtain possession of the case, which they were to forward to our address—I received instructions that the case was not to be found—there are about 40 watches here (produced), the numbers on which correspond to the numbers on the invoice—they would not be sent over tied on strings like these are—the case was marked with the same mark as appears on the bill of lading, "J. D. and Co., O'Rell"—these are all ✗ve have been able to recover.
Cross-examined. We sent out a large parcel of watches 18 months ago to Australia on sale invoiced as jewellery worth about 1,200l., and these were some of them returned—the others were sold, and these were returned as unsaleable out there.
Re-examined. They were all sold but this 200l. worth returned.
JAMES STEWART . I live at 21, St. Andrew's Road, Plaistow, and am a shore engineer—on 6th January I was examining the machinery in the lower hold between 1 and 2 o'clock in the afternoon and observed a light in the lower hold about 40 feet from where I was, where the red cross is marked in this plan (produced)—I turned my back, and when I turned round shortly afterwards it was extinguished—I then went towards the place and I found a silver watch similar to these on the ship's floor underneath the shaft tunnel, there was a deck over it—I took possession of it—there might have been cargo there when the ship arrived—I then went on deck, and before I left the hatchway I called Napier and stationed him there—there is no other exit from the hold except that particular hatchway—I reported the matter to the superintendent engineer, who was on board at the time, and came out of the engine-room
with him and went in the direction of the hatchway—we met Napier following the prisoner immediately behind him—Napier said "This man has just come out of the hold"—we all went on the upper deck then—the place where he came up was the entrance to the same hold where I saw the light—the watch was found in the centre tunnel in the narrow part—the hatchway goes through all the decks perpendicularly from top to bottom, and you can get into the hatchway from each deck—the tunnel is in the middle of the ship; I was on one side of it, and a person to go to the hatchway would go on either side of the tunnel.
Cross-examined. The after hold is very dark—no light but artificial light can get into it, it is below water, and there are no port holes in that part—I only set Napier to watch, and as soon as Gilbert came up Napier came away with him and there was no one to watch then, I don't know if any one else might have been down and came up—it is possible that some one else was down, but barely probable—the after hold includes all the after part of the ship—the lower hold is the hold under the lower deck and is included in the after hold.
Re-examined. I had a lantern—I did not search the after hold thoroughly when I got to the spot where the light was—a person could have hidden himself in the after side of the tunnel when I was there.
JAMES DUNCAN . I live at 371, East India Road, Poplar, and am chief engineer to the Garonne—on Tuesday, 6th January, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I went with Stewart down the after hatchway to the lower after hold and was examining the machinery with him—the only means of access from the main deck to the lower and orlop decks and lower hold is down the after hatchway, which is where it is said the prisoner came up—Stewart made a communication to me and I accompanied him towards where he had seen the light, and he showed me a watch after he had picked it up—we went on deck, placed Napier by the hatch, and were present when Napier came along following the prisoner—I heard what he said—the hold had been declared empty that morning by the prisoner's brother, I believe—the lower hold is the open space under the screw, you can walk underneath the screw chamber—I went with Stewart, Napier, and the prisoner to the chief superintendent engineer Dunlop—he asked the prisoner "What were you doing in that hold?"—he said he had been sent down there by the foreman to look for a case that was missing—he was then sent forward to the main hold—it was about 15 or 20 minutes after I came up with Stewart that I saw the prisoner followed by Napier.
Cross-examined. Anybody searching the hold would have to use a light; it would not be extraordinary for the foreman to send a man who had been at work on the ship to make a search—it would be quite possible for some one to secrete himself in the after hold—it would take about twenty minutes to search the after hold.
Re-examined. No one came down the after hold after I and Stewart went down to examine the machinery—about ten minutes after we had been down there we saw the light.
THOMAS NAPIER . I live at the Newton Road, Plaistow, and am third engineer—on Tuesday, 6th January, between 1 and 2, I received instructions from Duncan, and stood by the hatchway from fifteen to twenty minutes when the prisoner came up; he was the only person I saw come up after I received instructions—he went forward to the main deck and I followed him—he did not seem surprised to see me; he might have seen
me on the vessel before I went towards the engineer's room—I saw the superintendent engineer—I said in the prisoner's hearing, I believe, "This is the man that has come up the hatchway"—he was then going up the companion-ladder to the spar deck; he said nothing.
Cross-examined. There might have been some one else down in the after hold when I went to watch—the prisoner did not attempt to avoid me in any way when he came up, and gave me no suspicion by his manner that anything was wrong; I was only told to watch him—I did not know him previously—I had been told a watch was found—after I left the hatchway I did not think it necessary to keep a further watch.
Re-examined. I don't know if he was a regular hand on board the ship.
FREDERICK ROBERT GILBERT . I live at 17, Rayner Road—I am contractor with the Dock Company for clearing the Orient line of ships—on 6th January I was clearing this vessel and employed my brother, the prisoner, as one of the hands—he was not a hand on board the vessel, but was employed from the start of my contract as a dock labourer—it is my duty to report the hold clear; I had fifteen men in that hold; several of them, the prisoner among them, declared the hold was clear—about ten minutes to 1 on the 6th I had information that a case was missing—I sent my brother down again about ten minutes past 1 to see if he could find the missing case, and I next saw him about a quarter or twenty minutes to 2 on the spar deck against the main hold with Mr. Dunlop—Mr. Dunlop asked me if I knew him, I said "Yes"—I had told him to go down to look for the missing case, that would include the whole of the lower hold and a part of the after hold—Mr. Dunlop said he was seen coming up out of the after hold, and asked me what he was doing there; I said I had told him to look for a case—he said "All right, keep your eye on him"—I sent him down the main hold to finish his work, during the interval after I sent him down, at ten minutes past 1 I was looking after the work in the main hold, the fore and after holds were empty, it was not known in which hold the supposed case was—it was twenty minutes to 12 the hold was declared empty—I heard Dunlop say to my brother that he had been seen down the after hold with a light, and said "It was a funny thing you could not find anything down there, and I could find this," and produced a watch—my brother said nothing.
Cross-examined. I have been in the Dock Company's employ for eleven years—it was impossible to search the hold without a light—it is possible for a light to be blown out there; there is sufficient draught there at times to put it out.
JEREMIAH JOBSON . I am a seaman—on 7th January, about two o'clock, I was sent to the after hold to clear it up—I found one of these boxes with six silver watches in it about twenty or thirty feet, I should say, from where this red cross is marked in the plan, towards the stern—I handed the watches to Mr. Inslip.
CHARLES SMITH . I am a seaman—I was engaged at work on the Garonne on 7th January—I had instructions to clear up the main hold between seven and eight in the morning—I found twenty-three watches on a piece of string lying in a heap, with a spare hatch covered over them; there was nothing else in the hold but dunnage and iron; no cargo—I took the watches to Richardson, a shore boatswain—the main
hold does not communicate with the lower hold—you can't get from one to the other; you have to go down separate hatchways.
JOHN LOCKWOOD. I am a seaman on board this vessel—on 7th January, about twenty minutes to two, I was sent down the after hold to clear away the dunnage wood—I found a small box like this, containing six watches, in the after lower hold, about twenty yards from where the other was found—I gave it to Mr. Storey.
Cross-examined. I did not search all over the lower hold; only the place where I was working clearing up dunnage wood—the lower hold is twenty or thirty feet across, and longer than this Court—there were seven or eight candles there alight; each man had one; there were six of us down there—it was by accident I found it.
HERBERT INSLIP. I live at 431, East India Road, Poplar, and am second officer of the Garonne—on Tuesday I saw a silver watch, and on Wednesday it was given to me—on the following morning I received twenty-three watches from Richardson, and the other small boxes were handed to me as found—I handed them all to the police inspector—I searched the after hold on the 6th, but not thoroughly—I did not complete my search; when I came up I had the hatches sealed down about four in the afternoon, so that no one could go down till I went on the following morning—the next morning, about half-past nine or ten, I broke the seals myself, and took men down and made another search—when a case is missing the men working on the ship should report to the officer—I was officer in charge at that time; no report was made to me that a case was missing until afterwards, not before I heard of this robbery—I found on the 7th a case myself with Lockwood; I also found the remains of about eighteen boxes stowed away under some old iron in the after lower hold; I should say that was not the proper place to stow boxes—I know where the light was, and I should say it was impossible that there could be any draught there which would put out a light—I believe part of the original case and the tin lining which contained the watches were found some days afterwards in the lower after hold; there were no marks on the case the same as on the bill of lading; there are so many pieces of wood down there, it is impossible to recognise one case.
JOHN DUNLOCH. I live at Galton Road, Clapton—I am superintendant engineer of the Orient Company—on 6th January I was on the Garonne between one and two, and saw the prisoner coming aft on the maindeck, apparently coming from the after hold—he was on the maindeck, and went on the upper deck to go forward towards the hatch of the maindeck; I went into the after hold towards the spot marked on the plan, and there found a piece of a burnt tallow candle without a candlestick standing on the floor—I received a communication concerning the prisoner from Mr. Duncan and Mr. Stewart, and I then said to the prisoner, "What were you doing in the after hold?"—he said, "I was looking for a case"—I said, "Who sent you there?"—he said, "My foreman"—I said, "Where is your foreman?"—he pointed out Mr. Gilbert standing at the mainhatch—I went towards him and asked him in the prisoner's hearing what he was doing down the after hold—Gilbert said he had sent him there to look for a case of watches—I replied that the case looked very suspicious; he had better keep his eye on him—I afterwards put the matter in the hands of the police to get an explanation—Gilbert contracts with the Dock Company for clearing the cargo.
JOHN FORD. I am a Customs officer—I produce a declaration made by Jewel, Davis, and Co., relating to the case of watches marked "J., D., and Co.," dated 1st January, 1885, shipped in the Garonne—the importers make the declaration; I received it on 2nd January.
THOMAS GRIGG. I am superintendent of the dock police—on 6th January I received information about a watch being found in the after hold of the Garonne in the Albert Docks—I was present on the following day when all the watches were produced by Inspector Lecocq—I made inquiries and found the bill of lading was in the Dock Company's hands, and ascertained that the case referred to should have been on board the vessel—the bill of lading only describes it as a case of merchandise, but I understood from the witness that he had made a declaration that it contained watches.
JOHN LECOCQ (Police Inspector). On 8th January, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I received the watches and afterwards apprehended the prisoner the same day on shore—I said "I shall take you in custody for stealing a case of watches from this ship," pointing to the Garonne; he made no reply—I sent him on to the station with a plain-clothes officer—at the station I charged him with stealing the case of watches, the property of Jewel, Davis, and Co.; he made no reply—I had previously searched the lower after hold and had found a lot of broken cases similar to this piece of wood, which could not be identified; and a tin case, where no doubt the watches had been, had been broken in very small pieces; it could not be identified at all.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Baron Huddleston.
MR. HOLL Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
278. JOSEPH LAWRENCE CONNE✗LL (26) and HENEY JAMES BOSTICK (32) (a Soldier), Stealing two telephone receivers, a telescope, field-glass, four carbon rods, and other articles, the property of Her Majesty the Queen.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN
appeared for Connell, and MR. KEITH FRITH for Bostick.
HENRY HUTTON FLOOD (Lieutenant Royal Artillery). My battery is stationed at Bombay—on 21st October I was present at Bombay with Colonel Willard when the prisoner Bostick's heavy luggage was searched in his presence, the evening after the ship arrived there, and I saw the two telephone receivers, a galvanometer, some stocks and dies, and insulated wire—Colonel Willard placed them all in a box, which I brought home with me (An inventory of the articles was here put in)—Bostick said that they were his own, except the stocks and dies, which he knew were Government-marked, and ought not to be in his possession, but they were given to him by a m✗an in the Arsenal at Woolwich.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. He did not mention the man's name—he was under arrest when the box was searched.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I understood that he was under arrest,
but it may be true that he was only placed under arrest on the Wednesday morning—he was a store servant, I believe; I know nothing about his being the schoolmaster—I know nothing of his character—I should say that it would be an offence for a soldier to have Government property in his possession, even though it had not been dishonestly come by.
JOHN DOWDELL (Police Inspector Scotland Yard). On the 20th, on the arrival of the Paramatta at the docks, I received Bostick in custody, and a sealed box—I took him to the station and opened the box in his presence—Mr. Collins, who was present, identified the different articles—Bostick said "The whole of these articles were given to me by Joseph Connell, a writer in the dockyard, and I paid him 3l. 2s. 6d. for them"—that was with the exception of three small articles which he pointed to, which he said were his property; two of these were fuse cases and a detonator.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have made inquiries into his character in the Army, and was told that he bears a very high character.
JOHN COLLINS. I live at 31, Raglan Road, Plumstead, and am a store-holder—Connell was employed there as ledger-keeper, and left, on 8th November—I identify these two telephone receivers as the property of the Dockyard—I saw them safe in the store on 17th September, and missed them next day—I had received them on September 12th—I received 54 numbered 22289 to 22343; these two are numbered 22293, 23036—I missed this galvanometer on 3rd January this year—I took the stock of them, and found one short—this was all right when I last checked, three months before—the Government galvanometers are all marked in the same place; there is no mark on this now, but a piece has been taken out where the mark ought to be—these stocks and dies bear the Government mark, the broad arrow; I missed them on November 26—all these others are similar to what I have in stock—Bostick was in the store going through a course of instructions—I once saw him and Connell together at the store; Connell had access to the articles in the store—I missed two binocular glasses, and believe this to be one of them—Connell had to ask my leave if he wanted to go outside the dockyard—he asked leave to go out on September 7, and I signed his application.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. In addition to Connell I had ten other men under me—these telephone receivers were kept in the viewing room; a person who passes through to my department has to go through the viewing room, and would see the telephone receivers, nothing would prevent their taking them but honesty—Bostick was never in my department under me, but was in the stores three days, but the goods were not there at that time—Mr. Romsley has countersigned this—the initials J. C. are mine, this "Telephones two missing" is my writing—the door of the viewing room was never locked at that time—half a dozen dockyard people would visit me in a day—I am sometimes away from 9.45 till 11.30 a.m., when my foreman, William Parson, relieves me—he is still in the service, he is not here—when I told Connell the things were missing, he said "No wonder, from the way that they were left about"—he left with the usual three days' notice from September 19th, when the loss was found out—every one connected with the department was under suspicion for a month, and inquiries were being made, but Connell remained on; he slept off the premises, and he would be liable to be searched by the sergeant at the gate whenever he left for the night—I do
not think he was liable to be searched—no person had access to the galvanometers and the dies, they were not in the viewing room—when the store was closed a month ago they were put in the cupboard in my office; they may have been taken outside my office on account of the dust—January is the Government stock-taking, but we go through the articles frequently—the stocks and dies are made in the laboratory—Bostick was employed under me in the ordnance department.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Bostick was known to the police at the gate, I can't say whether he was liable to be searched—the articles were in the store-house excepting the telephones—I do not believe he was in the store-house carrying these things out—if they were carried I don't believe it would be him.
Re-examined. Persons leaving the dockyard at night are not liable to be searched—if the police touch a man he has to be searched; they touch one man one night, and another man another night—a man going out for an hour in the afternoon might be searched or he might not.
By MR. FRITH. These telephones are made in Paris—I do not identify them by the numbers only, but by other marks—there is a sale of Government stores monthly, and it is the business of the officials at the sales to see that the condemned mark is put on the goods.
By MR. POLAND. New things are never sold at a Government sale, only old stores, tons of brass cartridges, and old blankets, and things of that kind.
JAMES THOMAS GOSLING. I am a store-keeper at the Royal Arsenal—I have examined this telescope through a magnifying glass, I can see the place where the broad arrow has been, and I can still trace the W. D. which means "War Department"—100 of these binocular glasses were received from Negretti and Zambra; the mark has been taken off this one—two were missing.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. The Government binoculars are made from a pattern of our own, but the maker may make more.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have a store of my own. Mary Ann Fish. I am the wife of Charles Fish, of 39, Charles Street, Woolwich—Bostick and his wife lodged in that house; they came in July, 1833, and left in September, 1884, to go to India—I have frequently seen Connell come there; he came between 5 and 5.30 on the night before they left for India, I was in the room—Bostick said "Have you brought a parcel?"—Connell said "No, I will bring it later on," and went away and returned at 8.30 or 9, with a parcel wrapped in brown paper—Bostick was not at home then, but he handed it to Mrs. Bostick; it contained two telephone receivers and two green cards like this (produced)—I afterwards gave information.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have known Bostick from the time he came—we became good friends and were very intimate—I had these things in my hand, and saw the broad arrow on them; that is the way I knew them again—it was on the very edge—it has been rubbed out now—I say that one of them is marked—I said at the police-court that I mistook the letters "C. L." for the broad arrow—that was because you confused me so—I did not examine far to look for it—I have not seen any of the dockyard authorities since to refresh my memory—I lived upstairs; Mrs. Nagle, my landlady, lived downstairs the greater part of the day, and usually opened the door to persons who called—I
have frequently seen Connell with parcels—there was a reason for that—I did not mention about Connell till Bostick came home from India.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I had a quarrel with Mrs. Bostick—she is now out in India—we made up the quarrel; I did not quarrel with Connell—I never spoke to him except on the night he came there, September 17th; I have no reason for saving what is untrue—I have seen him frequently bringing parcels; Bostick spoke of him as a friend; Bostick did not explain to me that he was leaving the army and trying to get into business as an ele✗ctrician—there was no concealment.
JAMES COLLINS (Re-examined). The metal on this telephone receiver has been rubbed away where the broad arrow and "W. D." was—the spot is yellow now and not white—the other one is not marked with a broad arrow because it is a bad one, and it was taken to pieces and made good.
MARY ANN NAGLE . I live with my husband at 39, Charles Street, Woolwich—this is where Mrs. Fish lives—it is a few minutes' walk from the dockyard gates—Bostick and his wife lodged with me from July 1883 to September 18; Connell used to come and see them from time to time—I let him in on the 17th, the day before Bostick left—about 8.30 or 9 o'clock Bostick was not at home, and he went away and came again—Mrs. Bostick was then at home, and I saw him go into her room with a parcel.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. That is the only time I saw him come in with a parcel.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. Bostick had a latchkey—I don't know how often Connell called; I was out sometimes.
WILLIAM SMITH (Dockyard Policeman). On 17th August, 1884, I was on duty at the dockyard gate about 4.30, and Connell passed out with this pass (produced)—I did not search him—on 7th January, about 5 o'clock, I arrested Connell at Mr. Whiteley's in Westbound Grove, and told him he would be charged with a man named Bostick with stealing Government property at the dockyard, Woolwich—he said "I can explain the whole matter; the only thing against me is that I was seen in the company of Bostick"—I took him to Woolwich and charged him—he said "I deny the whole of it"—I asked him why he absconded—he said "I did not abscond, I merely left to better myself"—I received information of the robbery about September 20th, and between then and January 3rd I saw Connell once or twice—the last time I saw him was about December 21st.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I knew that he gave three days' notice to quit the dockyard, and that he stopped more than a month after the inquiries were made about the robbery—only labourers are liable to be searched at the dockyard; Connell would be liable to be searched.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. We search a man if there is anything bulky in his pockets.
The prisoners received good characters.
GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. DILL Prosecuted.
JOHN SPENCER . I am a lighterman in Mr. Laws's employment, and live at 13, Burgess Street, Bow—I assisted to load the barge Maude on the 30th—I saw some kegs of red lead and 340 kegs of white lead loaded, and two tarpaulins were covered over the goods: I nailed them down—at seven o'clock I left the Mau✗de, and returned at eleven o'clock, and as I did so I saw a boat with three men in it row away from the barge—it was too dark to see what the men were like—I stopped on board the barge—about 12 or 12.30 she went back to the East India Dock, and next morning I missed thirty-four tins of red lead and one firkin with 1 cwt. of white lead—the red lead was marked with three connected diamonds, "S" in the first, "175" in the middle one, and "S" again in the third diamond—the white lead was marked "J. B. and Co.," I think.
JOSEPH JOYCE (Detective R). On 31st December at seven o'clock I was at Union Stairs, East Greenwich, and saw the two prisoners rowing in a boat; after staying a little time and trying to land at High Bridge Dock they landed at the Union Stairs—Shea got out and passed into a public-house—I looked into the boat and saw Galloway moving some tins of red lead—I could not see the mark, but I could see the lead on the top of them—I then went and met Shea coming from the public-house, and told him he would have to come to the station with me—he said, "Suppose I don't go?"—I said, "You will have to"—I took him to the station as soon as I could—on the way he asked me what I was going to do, what the charge was—I said he was going, there to be identified—when I got back I found Galloway had gone in the boat, paint and all—I detained Shea for some time and then let him go out—he was watched, and about eleven o'clock in the morning these men saw this paint in his smack—it had been removed, and they laid information—I went on board the smack, and the paint was brought to the station—on the 6th I saw Shea again, and told him he would have to go to the station for stealing a quantity of paint✗, and I took him to the station and there told him he would be charged with stealing twenty-eight kegs of red lead and 124 pounds of white lead—he said, "My boat was there, but I have heard it was found in Black's boat, not in mine. I know all about this job; you know nothing. Why don't you brings the others in? You have got me for something this time. I had 1 cwt. of coal to day at Bingsley's; why don't you charge me with that?"—on the 8th I saw Galloway in the Union public-house—he said, "Well, governor, how many do you want?"—I said, "I want you for stealing that paint"—he said, "It is all right," and went to the station—I told him he would be charged with the other prisoner—he said, "That is right enough; you are only kidding me. I was not in the boat; I did not get up till six that morning; I know nothing"—I am quite certain I saw both prisoners in the boat and land, and that I saw paint in the boat.
ALEXANDER LAWS . I am a master lighterman at Bow—I own the Maude—1 received information and went to the police-station, where I saw some tins of red lead and a firkin of white lead—I identify, that as my property.
towards the end of last or the beginning of this year at a few minutes before 6 a.m.—he came and asked me the price of white and red lead—I said, "You can buy it at oil-shops for 3d. a pound."—that is all the conversation I had with him.
HENRY BLACK . I am the owner of the smack Elizabeth, and live at Union Wharf, East Greenwich—on 1st January I received information which induced me to go aboard my smack, and there I found kegs of white and red lead—I called the Thames police, and saw them counted out—there were thirty-four I think—they were well marked—they were not mine—the Thames police took them away—I had not been on bo rd my smack for a fortnight.
Shea in his defence denied all knowledge of the lead, excepting that he had heard some had been found in Black's boat.
Galloway's Defence. I never stepped in the boat.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. FOOKS Prosecuted.
ANNIE AYERS . I live at 53, Wickham Road, Brockley, and am servant to Mrs. Kersey—on 13th August, 1884, about 12.30 p.m., I was in the hack kitchen and received a communication from Annie Marchant, the servant next door, in consequence of which I went to the front door and saw a man going down the road about six or seven houses off; he was going from our house pushing a hand barrow with hearthstones and bones in it—I followed him to Brockley Station, where he stopped; I then accused him of going into our dining room—he said I had made a mistake, and if I wanted him I must follow him—I followed him along the Brockley Road to the Malthus Road—a gentleman came forward and called out "Stop thief," and the prisoner dropped the truck and ran away down one of the streets—I lost sight of him—I am quite sure he is the man—when I returned home I missed from the plate basket eighteen silver spoons and nine plated ones—the plate stood on that morning on the dinner waggon opposite the window—that could not be seen from outside—there are glass doors to the room through which anybody could have easily come from the private entrance, which is usually locked, but which on this morning had been left open, as some men had been in to measure for a blind—I did not see the prisoner after the 13th August until a month last Saturday, when I saw him at Brockley Police-station, and picked him out from a number of others.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said to the constable as I came out of the door that you very much resembled the man, but were much thinner.
cleaning the windows of my house and saw the prisoner go along through Mrs. Kersey's private entrance—I saw him come out with some silver in his hand through the glass doors about ten minutes afterwards, he was carrying a bag—I could not see the barrow from my house—I went to Mrs. Kersey's and spoke to Annie Ayers, and then followed him with her down the Wickham and Brockley roads—I heard Ayers say to the prisoner at Brockley Station that he had been into her drawing room—he said she had made a mistake, took his barrow and went away—I did not see him again till three weeks ago at the police-station with other men—I did not identify him at first till I saw him walk away, and then I saw he limped with one leg—the man I saw on the 13th August limped—I cannot say whether both legs limped—I am positive this is the same man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner I said you were not the man till I saw you limp.
Re-examined. I heard the prisoner speak on 13th August, his voice now is the same as that voice.
EMILY FRANCIS WYLIE . On 13th August I was staying with some friends at 165, Brockley Road—my attention was attracted to a noise in the road opposite—I saw the prisoner coming with a barrow and the two last witnesses running after him; they spoke to him, I did not hear what they said—I did not see the prisoner again until a month last Saturday, when I saw him at Brockley Police-station with 12 or 14 others; I identified him—when I saw him on 13th August it was for three or four minutes, his face was turned towards me, he limped a little; he is much thinner, but I am quite sure he is the same man.
EDWARD FULLER . I live at 33, Penmartin Road, Brockley, and am a milkman—on 13th August, about a quarter past 12 o'clock, I was coming off my round and saw Ayers and Marchant running after the prisoner and they accused him of stealing something from her drawing-room, I was close to the prisoner—I picked him out at the station without any hesitation from others, I am quite sure he is the same man.
GEORGE HARVEY SEABROOK . I live at 33, Oscar Street, Newtown, Deptford—on 13th August, between 12 and 1 o'clock, I was at work in the Wickham Road opposite Kersey's house—I saw somebody open Kersey's gate, go in across the front of the house, and open another private gate which is used to take the tricycle in—six or seven minutes afterwards he came out with a sack on his shoulders, he shut the gate after him, and said something to another man in the Wickham Road; they both laughed, and the other man left him—he came back to Mr. Kersey's, went round to the second gate, crossed the front of the house the same way, and was not in a minute before he came out and went down the road—I saw him followed—I could hardly see his features, I saw he limped on his right leg—I did not pick him out at the station till I saw him walk, but directly I saw him walk I said to the detective "That is the man."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I can only say that I know nothing of this charge. On the morning when this robbery was done I sent my little brother for a barrow, and a chap standing at the
corner said "Are you going out to-day?" I said "No." He said "You might lend me your barrow," and I lent it to him. What happened when he had it I can't say. Between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon they came home and said they had lost the barrow, that they had something to eat at a coffee shop and left the barrow outside, and when they came out they found the barrow gone. I said "Do you know where you lost it?" They said "In Peckham, somewhere." I told them to wait while I told the man to whom it belonged. He said I was to make inquiries, and when I returned the men that borrowed the barrow were gone."
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY ** to a previous conviction of felony in June, 1883.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WARBUBTON Prosecuted.
GEORGE ASH . I live at 51, Lewisham High Road, and am an agent—on 19th January about 9.45 I was smoking in my smoking-room, which adjoins the area in front of the house, and heard the sashes of an area window shaking—I let it vibrate, pulled the curtain on one side, and heard a noise as of something between the sashes—I dropped the curtain, pulled the bolt down of the door that opened into the area, opened it quickly, and found the prisoner in the corner of the area—I called out, "Who is there?"—there was no answer—I called my housekeeper—she had a candle and brought it out, and the light from the road showed up the steps—I said, "Come up, you vagabond!"—I collared him—he said, "I am not the man"—I did not lose sight of him—my housekeeper called out, "There is a knife between the sashes"—I said, "Here is a burglar"—he walked across the green—I followed him—my other servant sang out, "Murder! stop thief!"—I sang out, "Stop the thief!"—I never lost sight of the man—I collared him and took him down to Lewisham High Road, past the dram-shop, and gave him in charge of the police, who took him to the station—I afterwards charged him at Blackheath station—on returning home I found a small match in my area—I did not retain it, but there are no matches of that kind in our house—my housekeeper took the knife out from between the sashes in my presence.
CLARA PRIOR . I am housekeeper to the last witness—my attention was called by Mr. Ash calling out for a candle—I got one, went to the area, and found thin knife between the meeting bars of the sashes—I saw the prisoner going up the area steps—a lucifer match was found unlike those we use.
CHARLES LEBAR . I live at 29, Vane Street, New Cross Road, and am a decorator—in this road, a little before 10 on the 19th, I heard cries of "Stop thief!" and "Murder!" and saw two men pass—one of them I recognise as the prisoner—the other I don't know; he was not the prosecutor—I followed the prisoner, and after about twenty yards put my hand on his shoulder—he said, "I am not the man; the man has just run by"—I said, "If you are not the man come quietly and you will not be punished"—he came back, and the prosecutor caught hold of him directly, and we took him down to the policeman on the point.
Cross-examined. I caught you about 40 yards from the public-house,
about 40 yards from the prosecutor's—I brought you nearly to the corner before we met the prosecutor.
—WARD (Policeman P 88). The prosecutor brought the prisoner to me, and in consequence of what he said I took him with Burrell to the area—he was then charged and taken to the station—he said he was not the man—I searched him and found on him a box of matches of the same kind as that found in the area.
JOHN BURRELL (Policeman R 242). On 19th January I found the prisoner in the custody of the last witness—I went to the prosecutor's house and found some marks on a latch and marks on the paint where a knife had been put between the sashes—I said he would be charged with attempting burglary—he said he was walking along Lewisham High Road when stopped, and that he was not the man; the man ran past him.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Baron Huddleston.
MESSRS. POLAND and MONTAGU WILLIAMS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HUDNOT . I am a waterman, and live at 7, Barrratt's Cottages, Strand-on-the-Green, Chiswick—on Wednesday evening, 31st December last, between half-past 4 and twenty minutes to 5, I was in Mr. Maynard's boathouse and heard screams of children on the towpath on the opposite side of the river, the Surrey side—the screams were "Oh, don't! Mamma! Murder!" and a few minutes after I heard these screams I heard a splash in the water—I and my mate Barnham got a boat and a pair of sculls and rowed across in the direction of where I heard the screams, and when I got near the other side I saw a ripple on the water; I handed my mate the sculls—I saw a black object in the water, and caught hold of it, and found it to be the prisoner—I pulled her into the boat, and when I had done that, about six yards lower down I saw something else floating—I pulled it in and found it was one of the two little children; and then rowing a little up stream I saw another object floating, and took it into the boat, and found it was the other child—on looking at the prisoner and the two little children they appeared to be dead—I put them in the boat as dead—a little farther down I found two hats, one child's hat and the prisoner's hat—I got them all three on shore, and took them into Mr. Maynard's house; medical aid was sent for and they were attended to, and ultimately recovered.
WILLIAM BARNHAM . I am a boatman, and live at 12, Nelson Place, Strand-on-the-Green, Chiswick—on the evening of 31st December I was with the last witness on the Middlesex side of the river and heard screams, and went with him in a boat to the Surrey side and helped to rescue these persons; Mr. Maynard came to our assistance in another boat, and they were all three taken to Mr. Maynard's at once and put in hot blankets; a doctor was sent for—the tide was about a foot up the bank.
Pritchard, of 93, Percy Road, Shepherd's Bush; at the end of last year the prisoner was in our service, about five weeks and four days, she was general and only servant—my sister, Mrs. Weir, came to stay with us with two little girls and two little boys; the two little girls were Amy, aged seven, and Maud about five; the two little boys were older—my sister had been staying with us about three weeks; besides the household work the prisoner looked after the children; it was not her place to do so, but she wished to do it while we went out—on 31st December I went out with Mrs. Weir about twenty minutes past 1 p.m.—I left the prisoner in the house with the two little girls, the boys were out, and my husband was away as well—before I went out I had seen the prisoner, she was very sulky and very sullen; I had spoken to her about my bedroom, I told her that it was much too late to commence my bedroom, that she ought to have commenced it at 10 o'clock in the morning—she said "I will do it, mum:" instead of saying "I will do it, ma'am," which was her usual way of speaking—I said "You will not do it to-day, Emily; I will help you to-morrow," and left the kitchen—I went upstairs and locked the bedroom door, and put the key in my jacket pocket and took it away with me; this conversation took place about twenty minutes or a quarter of an hour before I went out—I had noticed before that she was rather sulky, but not sullen; she was self-willed—I noticed nothing about her demeanour or manner besides that—I and Mrs. Weir went out and returned about 6 o'clock; we knocked and could not get in—the house was in darkness—afterwards Mr. Weir came with the boys, and he got round to the back and opened the door; when I got in I found in the sitting-room things knocked down and broken; some bronze candlesticks, some castors out of the cruet-stand, bottles out of the inkstand, and a large desk opened and papers and letters scattered all over the room—some pictures that I had from America had been taken out of the hall and carried downstairs into the cellar and the glass broken; the pictures were not broken—in the kitchen I found that the dinner, tea, and coffee services had been smashed, and a portion of it down in the cellar—the silver salver out of the hall stand was bent, and was in the cellar also—I found in the front cellar the prisoner's box; that was not the place where it was usually kept—it was kept in her own bedroom before my sister came over, in the second-floor bedroom—I saw one of the prisoner's dresses which she had worn in the morning ripped into strips—the police were then communicated with, and in the evening about half-past 8 I and my sister went to Maynard's boathouse and there found the two little children and the prisoner—the children were very ill for three or four days; they were looked after and now they have quite recovered—before the prisoner came into my service I believe she had been with Mrs. Best; she gave me a reference there.
By the COURT. I had not the slightest doubt of her being in her right senses.
AMY WEIR . I am 7 years old—I used to go to school, but I don t go now—I came over from America—I know the prisoner—on the day I was in the water my mother and aunt went out, and the prisoner and I and my sister Maud were left in the house—my sister is 5 years old—the prisoner took us both out, down to the river—I could not tell how far the river is from Shepherd's Bush, and I could not tell how long it took us to go there—before we got down to the river I and my sister and the prisoner
sat down on a seat—from there we could see the river—while we were sitting there the prisoner said to us "This is where I am going to take a ducking," but I made a mistake the other time I was examined and said "That is where we are going to have a jump"—we all three then went over the bridge to Kew Gardens—we remained in there about half an hour and then we went down to the river again—there were two men standing on one of the little bridges—the prisoner said they were robbers, and she said "Now I am going to throw you in the water"—she had two bags in her hand at that time, one aunty gave to Maudie and one was auntie's—she threw them away on to the land, and she said that she could not go home any more because she had broken the dishes up with the poker—after she had said that she took hold of my hand and pushed me into the water—the water went over my head and went into my mouth, and after that I went to sleep—I felt myself going to the bottom, my feet touched the bottom—I pushed a little way with my feet and then I fell asleep—when she was going to push me I said "Don't, don't! Mamma!"—I called out as loud as I could—the prisoner had on a grey boa and she put it round my mouth, and she took it off again before she pushed me in—I had not got it round my mouth when I was pushed in—she put it on before I called out and then took it off again—the prisoner had always been kind to us before this—it was just getting dusk when this happened.
By the COURT. She took us out a little after mother went out—I did not hear any noise of breaking of plates after they went out—I was out by the gate—the prisoner told me and Maudie to go up to the gate, and then she said she was going back to fix her boot up.
EMILY ELEANOR WEIR . I was staying with my husband and children at Mr. and Mrs. Pritchard's—Mr. Pritchard is in the audit office of the Great Western—on this morning I saw the prisoner—I was in the kitchen—I helped her wash up—she came forward and wished to wash the things—I said I would do them as there were only three plates left—she said no, she would do them, and I left the kitchen—this was about 9.45—I noticed then that she was rather sulky and sullen—I noticed nothing as to her not being in her right senses on this particular morning—nothing occurred between us of any unpleasant kind—I went out with Mrs. Pritchard about 12.45, and when I came home I found this had happened to my little girls—the prisoner had had no authority whatever to take them out, sometimes she was left to take care of them in the house.
JAMES REW . I am a surgeon, of Grove Park, Chiswick—about 5 o'clock in the evening of 31st December I was called to Maynard's boat-house—I there saw the two little girls and the prisoner—they were in an extreme state of collapse and suspended animation—I applied remedies and they were restored to consciousness—I applied warmth and ordered beef-tea—Dr. Purkiss arrived—from the condition of the three I thought they had had a very narrow escape of their lives.
ARTHUR PURKISS . I am a registered medical practitioner at Kew Bridge Road—on 31st December I saw the prisoner both before and after she had recovered consciousness—when she came to I asked her her name—I had ordered her removal then to a sofa in front of the fire—she said "Emily Redston"—I said "Where do you live?"—she replied "93, Percy Road, Shepherd's Bush"—then I asked her if she had a
father or a mother living—she said she had a mother living at 1, Linfield Lane, Isleworth—I said "How did this occur?"—she replied "I quarrelled with the missus and could not stand it any longer, so I broke up the dishes and came out"—after that I abstained from any further questions, except as to her condition, medically speaking—I did not ask anything further about other parts of the case—that was the first time I had seen her, afterwards I attended to her and she was removed to the infirmary.
THOMAS THOMPSON (Detective Sergeant). About a quarter to 9 on the night of 31st December I went with Mrs. Weir and Mrs. Pritchard to Maynard's boathouse—I there found the two little girls and the prisoner—the prisoner at that time was unable to speak—I took the two little children home and took the prisoner to the Isleworth Infirmary—about 4 o'clock next afternoon I went to the infirmary and saw the prisoner—I told her she would be charged with attempting to murder Amy and Maud Weir by throwing them into the River Thames on 31st December, 1884, and she would be further charged with attempting to commit suicide—she said "I did not do it; I don't know how they came there"—I then took her to Chiswick Police-station, where the charge was read to her; she replied the same words she had previously said.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am Medical Officer of Holloway Prison, Clerkenwell—the prisoner was brought to the gaol on January 2nd—in consequence of information given to me I have seen her nearly every day up to Saturday; during the whole of that time she has been sane, as far as I have seen her.
ESTHER ANN WEST . I live with my husband, John Richard West, at 97, St. Stephen Avenue, Shepherd's Bush—the prisoner was in our service from 16th January, 1883, to 10th November, 1884—she was a nurse to five children, the eldest eight and the youngest a baby—during the time she was in our service she always bore the character of a kind, humane girl, and behaved well to the children in every way—I had no fault to find with her at all—she left to get a situation as housemaid—she considered she was too old to be a nurse—she always did her work in the ordinary way; nothing remarkable about her manner or demeanour.
By the COURT. She was in her right senses—she had bleeding frequently from the nose, and used to suffer from dreadful headaches, but nothing to indicate that she was out of her mind—I was not aware that she suffered from not having her usual courses.
MR. GILBERT (Re-examined by the COURT ). The prisoner has never menstruated—I think that would very likely have some effect upon her mental condition—I think she was suffering from that condition; it would at times prevent her knowing right from wrong—she might have been seized with an impulse to do certain things—I found no indication of that impulse while in the gaol—I think at the time she did this she might have been seized with a sudden impulse—I believe a person suffering from suppressed menstruation might do such acts as the prisoner has done, not knowing right from wrong.
ELIZABETH REDSTON (Examined by the COURT ).I am the prisoner's mother—she was 16 on 25th November last—she has been in service as a general servant in several places before she was with Mrs. West; she has always been out since she was about 10 years old—she has been a good girl, every one liked her wherever she lived; she did her work well—she has always been used to children—I have never had any trouble with her
in any way, not in her health—she has suffered from headache very much indeed, for months; she has told me that where she lived she has suffered from headaches—I have seen her suffering from them when she was at home preparing to go to another place—she could not rest at night, she said her head was so dreadful—I said she must see a doctor about it; she took some medicine, she did not see a doctor; she went to her place—I could not say anything about her being wrong in her mind, only suffering so violently with her head—she did not go direct from Mrs. West's to Mrs. Pritchard's; she came to me for a few days to prepare to go.
ARTHUR PURKESS (Re-examined by the COURT ).I have seen several cases of suppressed menstruation—at such a time they generally act in a somewhat irrational manner—it may even amount to not knowing right from wrong—it disturbs the whole functions of the body—it causes headache and bleeding from the nose—that generally gives relief—I have not myself known persons in that state commit acts of violence—I have known of several such cases, and have had others brought under my notice—one case especially, which occurred at Rockstone in 1845, mentioned in Taylor's "Medical Jurisprudence," where a girl about sixteen, without any apparent cause, one night tore up her clothes, and next day took a carving-knife and cut the throat of her mistress's baby, and immediately afterwards went into the dining-room and told the parents what she had done—the girl was tried and was acquitted on the ground of insanity, from some functional derangement—the medical witnesses swore that under those circumstances she might not have known right from wrong—the functional derangement in that case was, I believe, suppressed menstruation.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on the ground of her youth.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS Defended.
MARTHA RANSOM . My husband Joshua is a sawyer—we occupy the top back at 42, Wootten Street, Cornwall Road, Lambeth—the prisoner lived in the room underneath us on the ground floor—on the morning of 24th January I was in bed and asleep at about 3.15, and woke up and found the room full of smoke—I woke my husband, and while he was getting a light I rushed to the door—there was such a body of smoke coming up to the door that I was nearly choked—I went hallway downstairs and saw the prisoner in the passage in a stooping position making to the front door—she appeared to be nearly suffocated with smoke—I said, "What have you done?"—she said, "Nothing, Mrs. Ransom; only my room is smoking and my chimney wants sweeping"—I said, "It is something more than a chimney; it must be rag burning, for the house is full of smoke"—she then went back to her room, and I went upstairs again and woke up the woman who is living in the next room to me, Mrs. Row—she ran down to the prisoner's room—I partly dressed myself and then went down after the policeman came—the prisoner was fully dressed when I saw her in the passage.
3.15 she woke me up—I went down to the prisoner's room, pushed the door open, and saw the prisoner sitting on her bed opposite the fireplace, in which there was no fire—between the cupboard and the window there was a lot of wood smouldering away, still alight, but not blazing, about 3 feet from the bed and 3 from the grate—the room was full of smoke—you could not see your hand before you—I said to the prisoner, "What have you been doing?"—she said she had just put the wood there, alluding to the burning wood—I ran out of the room and called my landlady—the prisoner did not appear to be sober—she had not been sober for over a week—a police-sergeant was fetched—on the Monday morning previously prisoner came home the worse for drink, and said, "I will set fire to the house because Mrs. Edgar asked me for some rent"—she was very drunk then and did not seem to know what she was doing.
ESTHER EDGAR . I am a widow, and the landlady of 42, Wootten Street—the prisoner lodged with me—I let her the room unfurnished for 2s. 9d.—on 24th January she came home the worse for drink and I heard her say two or three times that she would set fire to the place because I asked her for rent—I told her that if she could get money for drink she could pay me my rent—in consequence of what she said I did not take my things off, but sat up watching her all night—on the previous Monday, the 19th, I looked through the window into her room all night, and I saw her make up a heap of wood on the fire, so much that it was a long distance from the grate—there were long pieces of wood sticking out from the grate—there was no fire in the grate then—she set fire to the wood, and then she fetched a bottle of paraffin from the side of the cupboard and poured it upon the firewood—it set the room in a blaze—on the night of the 24th, when I heard the place was on fire, I immmediately got my bonnet and shawl and went for a constable.
JAMES BRISTOW (Police Sergeant L 5). About 3.20 on the morning of the 24th of January I was called to the prosecutrix's house—I went up into the prisoner's room, the back parlour, which is used as a bedroom, and found the room full of smoke; the prisoner was in the room—I saw there had been a fire, and I asked her how she accounted for it—she said, "I came home shortly after 12 o'clock at night with a can of beer. I sat down in front of the fire; I had a thin apron on, and I suppose it caught fire, and I laid on the bed; it must have set fire to it"—I examined the flock bed in the room—about a foot from the bottom of the bed I found a place about a foot square had been burnt, and it was surrounded by several burnt holes about the size of nuts—on the top of the bed there were two pillows; one, at the head, was three parts burnt out, and the other pillow, about a foot lower down, had a burnt hole about the size of the palm of your hand—I turned the bed over and found another burnt hole near the foot about the size of the palm of my hand—there were four distinct burns in the bed—by the cupboard a pail was standing on the floor, which was three parts full of flock—I pulled some out, and about half way down found it was smouldering—that was put out—in the corner, about three feet from the fireplace, were three or four sticks of wood nearly burnt out; there were no signs of fire in the grate—at the police-court she said, "I was sitting in front of the grate; a cinder must have fallen into my hair and set alight to the pillow"—when I went there on the morning of the 24th she appeared to be under the influence of drink.
room; I made a plan, which is a correct representation of it—the size of the room is 10 feet 3 inches by 8 feet.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate."It is false."
The prisoner in her defence stated that the fire must have been accidental.
GUILTY . She received a good character from several witnesses, who stated that in their belief she would never have committed the act except under the influence of drink.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CRANSTOUN Prosecuted.
ALFRED JAMES . I keep the Bull's Head, Fulham Road—on 28th November, about 10.5 p m., the prisoner came in with another woman, who asked for some hot whisky and lemonade in separate tumblers—she gave me a half-crown; this is part of it (produced)—I gave her 2s. 2d. change, and they left—I then examined the half-crown and found it was bad—I gave it to the constable—I saw the two women again ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards at the Britannia public-house.
JULIA NICHOLLS . My husband keeps the Britannia, Fulham Road, about ten minutes' walk from the Bull's Head—on 28th November, about 10.30, the prisoner and another came in—the prisoner asked for some neat whisky and some hot rum, which I supplied in two glasses, and they each drank—it came to 4d.—Harvey gave me a half-crown, and I gave her 2s. 2d. change, and put the half-crown in the till; there was no other half-crown there—Batchelor came in and made a communication to me—I sent for a constable, and then said to the prisoner, "You have given me a bad half-crown"—the other woman said, "I did not know it was bad"—I gave them in charge—the prisoner did not speak.
FRANK BATCHELOR . I am a cabinet-maker, of 68, Highfield Road, Fulham Road—on 28th November I was in the Black Bull—Mr. James spoke to me, and he and I and a constable went to the Britannia—I went inside and saw the prisoner and another woman there—I spoke to Mrs. Nicholl, and they were both given in charge—Mrs. Nicholl showed me this half-crown, and Mrs. Batchelor gave it to the constable.
HENRY WILSON (Policeman T 244). On 28th November I was called to the Britannia, and Mrs. Nicholls charged the prisoner and another woman with uttering this bad half-crown (produced), which she gave me—I told them the charge—they said nothing then, but on the way to the station Harvey said that she was unfortunate, and met a young man who gave her the half-crown, and she knew this girl as an unfortunate, and asked her to have a couple of drinks with her—Harvey said at the station in the prisoner's presence, "The man who gave me the money was in the public-house"—I said, "Why did not you say so at the time?"—she said, "I did not think of it"—they were both searched by the female searcher, and 4s. 4d. was found on Harvey—they were charged before Mr. Paget at Hammersmith Police-court, and he dismissed them—I asked the prisoner her name; she said, "Lily Chapple"—the inspector asked her address; she said, "20, Penrose Street."
of gin—she gave me this bad half-crown—I spoke to the manager, and the prisoner said she was not aware it was bad—she was given in custody.
WILLIAM FOSTER (Policeman M 104). On 21st January the prisoner was given into my custody at the Dun Cow with this half-crown—she said, "I did not know it was bad"—going to the station she said, "I have been with a gentleman who gave me a half-crown and a shilling," and she gave me a half-crown and a shilling at the station—she gave her address, "Manor Place, Walworth Road."
(They had been broken by the Magistrate.)
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know it was bad.
The prisoner's mother stated that she was expecting her confinement every minute.
287. GEORGE FRASER (32) PLEADED GUILTY ** to unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it. He was out on a ticket-of-leave under a sentence of seven years' penal servitude, and had failed to report himself.— Five Years' Penal Servitude, to commence after the expiration of his former sentence.
(See the two following cases.)
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
JAMES SCOTT (Detective W). On 16th January I was at the Lambeth Police-court in the case of George Fraser, who has pleaded guilty. (See last case.) I saw the two prisoners there, and heard Levy ask a question about Fraser—I followed them some distance down Vassal Road, Brixton, and saw Young give Levy something—Levy then went into Boreham's shop, and came out and rejoined Young—I went in and spoke to Mrs. Boreham, and then followed the prisoners to the Russell public-house, Brixton Road, and again saw Young give Levy something—Levy went in, and I saw her tender something at the bar—the landlord detained her, and I arrested Young and said, "I shall apprehend you for being concerned with another woman in that public-house in passing counterfeit coin"—she said, "I know nothing about it"—I took her to the station, and afterwards, in consequence of information, I went into her cell with Dalton, examined the pan of the closet, and found these three bad half-crowns wrapped in tissue paper—Young had been searched in that cell—the prisoners gave their names but said, "No address"—Mrs. Ender afterwards showed me a locked box—I forced it open, and found in it four double moulds for making half-crowns, three double moulds for florins, two triple moulds for shillings, a can of plaster-of-Paris, some copper, zinc, portions of a battery, some acid, an iron ladle, three lamps, a can of sand, and other articles.
ALBERT PEDDER (Policeman W 409). I was with Scott, and was called to the Russell public-house, and the landlord charged Levy with uttering a bad half-crown—she said "I did not know it was bad, it is the only money I have"—I have heard Scott's evidence and confirm it.
Brixton—on January 16th, between 12 and 1 o'clock, Levy came in for a quarter of a pound of bacon, price 2 1/2 d., and offered me a half-crown—I took it to my aunt, who tried it, and I told Levy my aunt could not take it—this is it, I know it by the tooth-marks—she told me to keep the bacon till she came back, and left the shop—Scott came in, and I told him and gave it to him.
FRANCES HUTCHINGS . I am barmaid at the Russell public-house, Brixton Road—on 16th January, about 1.30, I served Levy with a glass of beer, she tendered this half-crown (produced)—I saw it was bad and gave it to the landlord.
EDWIN RICHARD COLES . I keep the Russell public-house—on 16th January Hutchings handed me a half-crown—I went to the bar and told Levy it was bad, and said "Where did you get it from?"—she said "I shan't tell you"—I said "If you don't give me a satisfactory explanation I shall send for a policeman, I have been looking for you and your party for some time; have you any other money about you?"—she said "No"—Pedder came in and I charged her—she said she knew nothing about it.
LUCY BURTON . I am female searcher at Brixton station—on 16th January I searched the prisoners in different cells, but found nothing—Young asked if she could go to the closet—I said "Not till I have searched you"—after searching her, I let her go there alone—I stood at the door and heard something drop; I searched the closet, but finding nothing, I told Scott—the police afterwards showed me the coin.
ARTHUR DALTON (Detective W). I assisted Scott in searching the pan of this closet, and found three bad florins in tissue paper, which I handed to him—they were not visible when I looked into the pan, they were in a second pan, and until it was flushed they would not go away—a prisoner cannot flush the pan—that is done by the police only.
HARRIET ENDER . I live with my husband at 17, Chepstow Place, Tottenham Court Road—Young took our top room back on 2nd December; a man was with her, and they passed as Mr. and Mrs. Morrison—he was ill with bronchitis—I turned them out on the 15th, and put the brokers in as they paid no rent—this box (produced) was in their room, and the brokers wished to open it, but young said that her husband had the key—I grave it to Scott.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These two half-crowns uttered are bad—the half-crowns found in the pan are bad, and from the same mould as one of those uttered—the florins are all bad, and from different moulds—in this box there are two double moulds for shillings, but none of the coins uttered were made in these moulds—here are plaster-of-Paris, wire, part of a battery, acids to put in it, and all the stock-in-trade of a coiner.
Levy, in her defence, stated that a young man sent her to buy the bacon, and she did not know the coin was bad, but he put it into her hand again and told her to go and get something to drink, and she was taken and the man escaped. Young stated that she was living with a man who left her in the lodgings with the box, but she did not know what it contained, or she would not have left it there six or eight days.
GUILTY . LEVY.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. YOUNG.**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
ALEO SELBY . I am barman at the Crown and Anchor, Brixton Road—on 19th January I served the female prisoner with threepennyworth of rum—she tendered a half-crown—I broke it with my teeth and said, "This is a bad one; I have had two of these in seven days. I shall see into the matter"—she gave her name as Emily Wilson, 58, Tulse Hill, and that she had been known there four years—I allowed her to pay and leave—I told Dolton.
Cross-examined by Emma Wilson. I did not lock you up because I had the governor's orders not to lock any one up.
THOMAS COX . I collect the rents for 12, East Street—the female took the whole house on June 9th and gave the name of Edward Wilson—I never saw the husband when I called, the daughter generally paid me—on January 19th I went there to collect the rents, and Emma Wilson paid me 20s. in various coins, among which was a bad shilling; it was dull, heavy, and slippery, I put it to my mouth and it was gritty—I returned it to her and she gave me a good one—she offered me a bad half-crown about three months before, and I bent it and returned it to her.
WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Detective L). On January 21st I saw the female with two other women at Lambeth Police-court and heard the female prisoner say, "I should not be at all surprised to be taken for this at any moment, I am going to see Davey in the morning in the Infirmary, we must get him out of the way for a while, and I must clear out myself"—I followed them to 12, East Street—I did so again next day, and saw Bowles, a well-known coiner, go in and stop half an hour—I went with Detective Scott and Sergeant James and saw two other men go in—on the 23rd, about 1 o'clock in the night, we knocked at the door and a lodger answered from the window; I knocked again, and the male prisoner said, "Who is there?" without opening the door; I said, in a low tone, "Davey;" he said, "Who?" I said, "Davey;" he said "All right, I will open the door;" he opened it, and I went in and found Emma Wilson in bed in the ground floor back room—I said "I she take you for being concerned with a person in custody for possessing counterfeit coin and implements for making the same;" she said, "Oh, God! that is all through a letter I received from that woman; I am sold; she is a bad, vile woman"—she jumped out of bed and a purse which laid on a small table; it had a letter in it—Scott said, "She has got something in her mouth"—I attempted to get it, but she swallowed it, and while Scott was examining the papers she rushed to the bed and placed both her arms between the mattress and the bed—Sergeant Jones and I got her round the waist and pulled her away and took her to the station, where I said, "Where is the letter you received this morning?" she said, "It is on the table;" I said "No, it is not;" she said, "Which letter do you mean? do you mean the letter I had from the Infirmary or the one I had from Mary Young from the House of Detention?" I said, "The one you had from Mary Young;" she said, "I have burnt it"—the male prisoner said, "Don't tell them, let them find out themselves"—
the daughter was in bed screaming under the clothes with a little girl about four years old.
Cross-examined by Emma Wilson. You were outside Lambeth Police-court when the two women who have just been tried (See last case) were having their hearing.
JAMES SCOTT (Detective W). I was with Williamson—when the female prisoner got out of bed she rushed to the table, seized this purse, opened it, took something out, and swallowed it—I took the purse and found this letter in it, and four bad half-crowns wrapped in newspaper, a good six-pence, and 4 1/2 d. in copper. (The letter was signed "D. E," requesting some paper and envelopes to be sent to the Infirmary.) When she had swallowed the coin she went to the bed and put her hand between the mattress and the bed, as if she was going to take something out—we dragged her back and then went into the front parlour and found a portrait of Mary Young, who I had in custody.
WILLIAM JAMES (Detective Sergeant L). I was with the officers—when the female prisoner was taken away from the bed I searched it, and on the mattress under the bed I found this double mould for half-crowns—we took the prisoners to the station, and before the charge was taken the female prisoner said, "This is what I get through that woman"—I said, "Who is the woman you mean? what do you know about her?" she said, "All I know about her is, she sent me a letter to come and see her on Saturday last, but I would not have anything to do with her"—after the charge was read over she said, "Oh, you are all base, vile men, this is all I have got for having a letter from a woman I don't know anything at all about; if those things were there one of you placed them there"—the male prisoner said, "I am quite innocent of any of these things; I did not know they were there; I have worked at Matver, Berks, for the last 15 years, and you can get my character"—Detectives Scott and Williamson, the male and female prisoners, the daughter, and a little child were in the room—when we searched the male prisoner he said, "This is a nice thing, but it is no more than I expected."
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This crown uttered by the female prisoner to Selby on the 19th is bad and from the same mould as the others—these four half-crowns found in the purse are bad and from different moulds—this is a double mould for half-crowns, but it has not been used.
Edward Wilson's Defence. I cannot move my hand, I know nothing about this.
Emma Wilson's Defence. What these men have produced against us is, what they have brought themselves, and they know what I am saying is correct. Scott took this mould from his pocket and pretended to place it under the bed. It is cruel injustice, I would not accuse them of doing it if it was not true. I am guilty of knowing a woman who has been charged before you to-day, but had not seen her for some years till I did some washing for her. She got into trouble and wrote to me and asked if I was going to visit her. I said "No." My husband is in very bad health and is perfectly innocent. I am guilty of being two or three times with Mary Young, but I had not seen her for eight or nine years till six or seven weeks ago, and knew nothing of what she was doing.
GUILTY . EDWARD WILSON— Eight Years' Penal Servitude. EMMA WILSON— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
The COMMON SERJEANT considered that the officers had acted with great
experience and tact in bringing the gang of prisoners in the last three cases to justice, and sincerely trusted that they would each be promoted.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. BESLEY and GILL Prosecuted.
During the examination of the accountant (the only witness called), it appearing that there was no proof of the definite receipt by the prisoner of any of the sums mentioned in the indictment, the case was not further proceeded with.
NOT GUILTY .
291. CALEB TITCOMB was again indicted for embezzling 24l. 10s., 100l. 10s., 26l., and 15l., of his said masters. MR. BESLEY offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY . (Another indictment against the prisoner was postponed to next Session. )
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
292. BERNARD BOALER was indicted for a libel on that Directors of the Grosvenor Bank Company, Limited, to which he put in a ple✗ of justification, stating that the libel was true, and that it was published for the public benefit.
MESSRS. BESLEY and GILL Prosecuted.
MR. BESLEY submitted that the onus of proof was upon the prisoner to prove his plea, but the prisoner contended that MR. BESLEY must first prove his case. The COMMON SERJEANT having consulted MR. BARON HUDDLESTON decided that the onus of proof was upon the prisoner, who then addressed the Jury.
THOMAS WARAM (Examined by the Prisoner). I am at present manager of the Grosvenor Bank—I was appointed on 31st March last year—I went through the books in May—I did not examine the register of members—you drew my attention to it in June, and you paid to inspect the books—you said they were in a mess—I took steps to ascertain if that was true; I went to Somerset House and found it was not—you as good as said there was no return, but I found a return there which purported to be a copy of the register, made perfectly, according to my view—this is the register (produced)—there is a copy of 1881 here made up to 11th October; it is a summary of capital and shares of the Grosvenor Bank Discount Company, Limited—it is "Amount of capital, 100,000l., 1l. shares; number of shares taken up 10,635, 10s. on each share called up; total amount of calls received 4,481l. 5s., amount of calls unpaid 836l. 5s."—at the bottom of the page here is "Filed by Caleb Titcomb, secretary"—that is not Titcomb's signature, it is a copy of it—that entry has been made since I have been in the bank, the whole of it is in Percy Penfold's writing, I believe; he was a clerk in the bank; he was called deputy manager, but he had no appointment—he made the entry by my direction—I can't say whether this is a copy of the bank register, I was not in the bank at the time—the first entry of a member's name appears to be on 11th October, 1881—up to that time I find 10,635 shares in the register—this is not an annual return, but a four-monthly return only—the annual return purports to be a list of members made up to 11th October, 1881—these are your letters of 13th and 14th August. (The first requested a copy of the Summary for 1881,
as required by the Act, enclosing sixpence fee; and the second requested the addresses of Elliott and Penfold, and the number of shares held by them.) This is a letter in Penfold's writing; no doubt that was sent to you—I find in the list of 1881 the name of William Elliott, 50 shares, and Penfold 15—it is impossible for me to say whether the return made to Somerset House was made from this book—this (produced) is the register of the Grosvenor Finance Company previous to the one now in existence—that is correct—the book is made by Whiteman and Co., of 104, Regent Street, and has in it "580, June 16, 1882"—the first entry is in 1881—I cannot swear that that is the original register; there is nothing inside the cover of the other—I do not remember having my attention drawn to these entries on page 60, but it is a fact that page 60 is altered into page 1 in my writing; "60" is scratched out and 1 is put in—this one made in 1882 is a copy—the other is the previous register; that goes up to November, 1882—Barham, 12th October, 1883, is the last name; Penfold's name appears with 15 shares—it appears that the bank used this register up to a certain time, then copied it into the other one—Titcomb has 200 shares on page 14—Titcomb's shares look like 75 altered to 80, and in Titcomb's returns to Somerset House it is 85—I can't see a list and summary in this book, it might be in some other one; they are not bound to keep it in the same book—I showed you this when you came to the bank on 13th June and asked for the register of members; it was the only one I had seen at the time—you called three times at the bank and have paid me several shillings—I arranged with you in June to meet you at Gatti's—you gave me a category of your past proceedings in relation to the Joint Stock Companys, and stated that many things were wrong in the Company's books; you acted fairly—your memorandum of 13th January is a deliberate false statement; there was never any contract entered into—you told me you were in an accountant's office with Boyle and Child for four years; that was not false—very possibly you showed me a copy of the first summary filed at Somerset House on 13th June, and said that that original did not appear in the bank register of members—you asked if I had any other register, and I said "No, I did not know of it"—I asked your name; you refused to give it at the office; you said you were paid to come there by a shareholder—I said if you gave us all the information you could you should be amply remunerated, if it was worth the money—you said that your knowledge of limited companies extended far beyond the extension of the register, and that your knowledge was very valuable—you might have said it was worth 10,000l., I can't say—I think on the 17th June you said you had been to the Old Kent Road—you showed me a great many papers—very possibly you told me you got one, two, three, and four balance sheets—I offered you 500l. if you gave valuable information—I wrote a letter to you to meet me, and you came to the bank on a Saturday—you told me the form I had got was wrong; you summoned us for it wrongfully—I placed all your correspondence and the balance sheet before Counsel, and he said you were perfectly right, and that our contract between the two Companies was perfectly right and legal—I submitted a case to him; I have not got that—I did not tell Counsel we had two registers, there was no necessity for it; one was only a copy of the other—I cannot say if I knew when that case was submitted to Counsel that there were two copies—I believe it was said the latter returns would cover the first—I cannot say I told the Counsel there was no
original list and summary in that book—I cannot undertake to produce the case; I believe I read it—I had not examined the minute-book to see that the summary was right with regard to the calls made—I did not tell Counsel that—I had not referred to anything connected with 1881—I knew nothing prior to my coming to the bank—returns were entered in the book which were not there when I went there, but I did not verify particulars prior to the time I went there in any way—I can remember nothing the Counsel was told except about the agreement between the two companies. (The agreement between the Grosvenor Finance Company and the Grosvenor Bank Company was here read. It stated, among other things, that the nominal capital was 100,000l., in 100,000 shares of 1l. each, and that no shareholder in the old Company should be called on to pay more than 10s. in respect of each share he might hold in the new Company.) The shares were all handed over, they were not assigned—I have neither seen nor heard of any assignment—this contract is signed 12th October, 1881; it was entered in the register on 11th October, the day before it was filed—the directors always met in the evening—the shares could not be entered at the registry till the 12th—the agreement was dated the 11th, and registered on the morning of the 12th—I should say the shares were entered at some time after this was registered—the date of register is 11th October—Titcomb, Holder, and James Birch signed as directors of the Grosvenor Bank Company—Titcomb signed as liquidator on behalf of the old Company—there is nothing in the minute of 21st May, 1881, referring to any agreement as to the formation of this Company—no shares were alloted on that occasion—on the 26th Mr. Wells applied for 200 shares, Mr. Thomson for 175, Titcomb for 50, Seymour for 50, Moore for 60 and 30, Booty for 13, John for 10, Holder for 10—the minute book would not say the amount to be received per share, nor whether anything was paid on account—there is no reference to any other Company there—in the cash account it says, "Received on shares half-crown per share"—there was nothing about a call being made at this meeting—on the next meeting, 2nd June, there is no mention of any other Company—I find 2,608 shares allotted—I find Mr. Holder paid half-a-crown a share, 7l. 10s. on his 700 shares, and Birch the same; Wells paid 10s. a share on his 200, and the others a half-crown a share—there is nothing about any calls on that day—on 2nd June all the Grosvenor Finance Company shares had been allotted—among the last 10,000 I find Titcomb, Holder, Wells, J. Birch, W. S. Birch, Rintoul, Riddell, Dodson, Cox—half the nominal capital was bought up by those—100,000l. is called the nominal capital; the remainder of the nominal capital was all taken up from 24th March to 2nd June, and it appears the majority of it by the directors—they paid half-a-crown and some paid 10s. on application—Wells paid 100l. on 200, and Cox 200l., which was 10s. a share; Dodson paid 150l.; Riddell's creditors have paid 17l. 10s. on 100, James Birch paid 87l. 10s. on 700, and Rintoul and Holder the same—W. S. Birch paid 43l. 10s. on 348; Titcomb 6l. 5s. on 30—that completes the whole nominal capital of the Company, and it is all taken up on that date—there is no reference in the book up to 2nd June of any agreement or any call—there is no such entry on 9th or 30th June, or on 7th and 12th July—on 21st July there is a reference to an agreement—the minute of 21st July is "The manager (Mr. Titcomb) reported that he had received an offer to purchase the Company for 10,000l., to be
paid in fully paid-up shares"—the offer was from the Grosvenor Bank Discount Company—I believe he was appointed manager and secretary of the Grosvenor Bank—the directors present on 21st July were Messrs. Holder, J. Birch, Cox, Rintoul, W. Cocks, Thompson, W. S. Birch, and Baker—with the exception of Mr. Baker those gentlemen were all directors of the bank when I went there—the Grosvenor Bank and Discount Company was registered on 11th July, 1881—the minute I have just read was a meeting of the Finance Company after the incorporation of the bank—here is the memorandum and articles of association of the Grosvenor Bank—the seven directors took twenty-five shares each—the same seven names appear on the balance sheet of the Finance Company—the assets of the Finance Company at that time appear as 6,408l. 11s. 10d.—the balance sheet is made up differently to any balance sheet I ever saw—the net profit on the half-year appears to be 257l. 16s. 6d., and the dividend to shareholders 131l. 7s. 9d.—205l. is carried from the balance sheet of the Finance Company into the balance sheet of the bank; it naturally would be—the balance sheet of the bank put forward as shares issued at that date 12,074l.—Mr. Harry M. Spinks, of 3, Marchmont Street, Westminster, is registered as a subscriber to the Grosvenor Bank and entered on page 45 of the register—the date is omitted—the money was not paid till March 21st—this (produced by the prisoner) putports to be a copy of the registered members from the beginning—it says here that it was supplied to you in August last—it is not a full register, it goes up to September, 1881—the last name is Susannah Burroughs, No. 12,074—that agrees with the last number in the balance sheet. (The COURT informed the prisoner that he must confine himself to matters connected with his plea of justification.) I do not find Mr. Spinks's name in the list of members returned to Somerset House on 11th October, 1881, in respect of the twenty-five shares he subscribed for—every shilling of the 10s. on the 10,000 shares oi the Finance Company has been paid up—Mr. Edwin Harper has paid up now, but he had not when this letter (produced) was written—this (produced) is a statement of all persons who had not paid their money—I cannot say whether you paid for this, I received so many payments from you for copies and inspections—I see Mr. Titcomb's name here. (The prisoner here put in requests to the Company to be furnished with lists of members and other documents. ) One of these lists states the balance owing, and the other the amount paid, and I should say that they were furnished in compliance with your letter—this is your writing at the top, and this is the writing of a clerk in the bank—I gave instructions to send you one or other of these—this (another) was made by Penfold—I never saw it—I find in the register of members book, "Caleb Titcomb, 8395—8474"—I do not see that he is in arrear—I distinctly state that I never examined this paper—I find Mr. Titcomb paid up on those eighty shares on October 11th—Schofield's shares are paid up in the register—those are shares which were carried into the register after they were fully paid-up—I was not there when the entry was made—if there was any amount in arrear that would come afterwards; and it is a matter of common sense that it would be registered—Mr. Titcomb's shares, as far as the new Company was concerned, were fully paid up in October 8—I cannot say what were the returns to Somerset House at that time; I am not resposible for this document; why don't you call the man who entered it?—I find here the name of Pattison, ten shares,
6691 to 6700 fully paid up; and Mr. Rudolf's we the same; that is through the ignorance of the man who returned it—the Grosvenor finance Company has nothing to do with me; I have, never seen their books, and cannot produce them—I found this prospectus of the bank printed when I got there—I think this is correct, "The board of directors are all well known men of business and practical knowledge"—they are men of great practical experience in their own business—they have not all had large experience as directors—it is true that "no promotion money whatever has been paid;" the premium paid for the business of the Finance Company could not be considered promotion money—none of the directors object to these proceedings against you—the Magistrate advised you to apologise for the libel; you objected to do so, and said it was true; there was no desire to punish you, merely that you should apologise—I received from you this letter of 20th December, 1884. (This stated that he never intended to include the witness in his charges against the directors. ) In answer to that I wrote this letter of 23rd December. (This referred to the last paragraph of the libel, which the witness said clearly referred to him. ) I then received this letter of 25th December from you. (Repeating that he never intended to attack the witness. ) On the 26th I appeared against you before Mr. D'Eyncourt; you then said that you were sorry you had included me in the charge—I appear against you now because I identify myself entirely with the directors in the matter—Mr. Wontner appeared for the directors and myself.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. There were about one hundred share-holders in the Finance Company, including the directors—when the defendant first came to the office he gave the name of Frederick Pope as the person he was acting for—Pope was convicted last Session with Pryor; he had no interest in the original small Company—the report of the directors points out that the small Company had been sufficiently succeesful to warrant them in fusing with the larger Company and enlarging the capital; of the total capital of 65,000l. 23,000l. was held by the directors—nearly 40,000l. is now paid up, and the directors have paid up 15,000l. of that—calls have been made since May—the whole of the directors have paid up their calls; there are about three hundred shareholders in the larger Company—the larger shareholders are friends of the directors—in spite of the defendant's, proceedings votes of confidence in the directors have been passed by the shareholders, with two or three dissentients—it was stated at the meeting in October last that the losses amount to 10,000l. in Titcomb's time; a greater portion of that loss has been consequent upon the introduction by Pryor of insolvent persons—the October meeting was held at the Westminster Palace Hotel—I saw the prisoner in the hall of the hotel on that occasion distributing papers to the different shareholders as they passed in, explaining to them that the meeting was illegal, he not being a shareholder—I know of my own personal knowledge that he has borrowed money of Pryor, 4s. or 5s. at a time, and given I O U's for it—he has paid me altogether about 1l. for what he has had—when he first came he did not mention any particular sum that he wanted to get out of the Company—on the Saturday after he saw me at Gatti's he called on me to see what the directors were about to do—we thought the information he had given was not valuable, except in a very unimportant particular as to some person named Allen, who turned out to be a half-brother of Pryor; up to that time we
thought Pryor and Allen were the same person; I told the prisoner as I had promised to give him something I might make him some recompense, say 5 guineas, but the bank being closed I had not the money by me—he said, "I should be very glad if you would let me have 3 guineas to-day"—I found I had just four sovereigns, and I said, "I will let you have the 3 guineas"—no mention was made about any further sum than 5 guineas—I said, "You had better give me an IOU for this"—there was not a word about lending money—I requested him to call again the following week—he did not, and I wrote to him about 10 days afterwards, and when he called I said, "I wish you to take the 2 guineas to settle the matter," and he said, "I should not think of it, my information is worth hundreds"—with that he went away, and so it has remained to this day—no doubt if he had had the information to give which he thought he had, it would have been worth a considerable sum of money—the first vexatious proceeding against me was in July at Westminster Police-court—the next was 88 summonses on 13th August at Bow Street—these (produced) are some of them—there is no imputation in these of anything false or fraudulent, simply a default—he went to the Greenwich Police-court on 19th November because there was a branch of the bank there—the summons there was dismissed with costs, which he did not pay—on 26th November he went before the Lord Mayor against Messrs. Birch and Spinks with regard to another company—that was heard on 11th December and dismissed with 10s. costs—on 18th December the matter of the 88 summonses was finally heard before Sir James Ingham, who said he acquitted the directors of being privy to the false return, but convicted them of a technical violation of the statute—the sole question was whether the 10,000 fully-paid shares given in respect of the 15,000 10s. paid shares in the old coucern, and 5,000l. for the goodwill and premises, should have been entered as 10,000l. fully paid shares or as 10,000 fully-paid shares—this is the draft agreement of 11th September—there is a memorandum, "Sent to Waterlow Brothers and Layton for engrossment on 8th October," and the date is altered from September to October—an agreement was signed on behalf of the old Company by the official liquidator—it sets out the meeting of the shareholders of the old Company and the new, the terms on which the transfer was to be made, and the actual transfer by Titcomb of the assets and liabilities—this is the case submitted to Counsel with his opinion thereon (Read)—to the best of my belief not a single person in the new Company got a fully-paid-up share till he paid the 10s.—it is the duty of the secretary or manager of a limited company to make the returns to Somerset House—it would be Titcomb's duty, he was both secretary and manager—if there were errors it would be entirely his fault—I new knew a director in any company look at the return—I find imperfect book-keeping in the register—as far as I have seen there is no trace in the books of a single director taking extra advantage of a shilling over and above the ordinary shareholders.
Re-examined. The directors received 10 per cent, on their fully paid-up shares, as the other shareholders did—I have been in the London and Westminster Bank—I was in a bank called the Britannia—it was registered, but it never did any business, they never had a shilling of money—I do not imply that your association with Pryor had and
fraudulent intention—you told me that Pryor told you you were to represent him and Pope—as far as I know the registers are in the same state now as they were in June last—except with regard to the entries made since with regard to the transfer of shares and the alteration of members' addresses, I do not think I have caused entries to be made in this register with regard to a list and summary for 1881, '2, '3, and '4—I caused the list and summary to be entered in the register for 1881 in August, 1884—for 1882 the summary was entered by my instructions, and the list by Titcomb in August, 1882—the list and summary for 1883 were entered by my instructions—the summary is in Penfold's, and the list in Marley's handwriting—the list for 1884 is in Juniper's handwriting—he was a clerk—I should say that was not entered by my instructions—I do not remember giving instructions about it—I don't remember seeing it in when I came to inspect—there is no summary to 1884—I should imagine it was not put in since I have been there—I have read out of the Grosvenor Bank minute-book—I left the London and Westminster Bank in 1866.
By MR. BESLEY. I had been there 20 years—lists and summaries were not sent afterwards by Titcomb to Somerset House—it must have been inadvertence or ignorance that he did not have a copy in the register—apart from the word "paid" being used, instead of "considered as paid," I can speak of no inaccuracy or fraud upon any shareholder or any one outside the Company by reason of the returns to Somerset House—the main charge is the 10,000l. being carried out as "paid," instead of "considered as paid"—I can suggest no fact to justify a suspicion of fraud in regard to that—I knew Mr. W. Birch was the purchaser of shares making up the difference—when the fusion took place in October I found the record in Titcomb's writing that the shares had been transferred—on 5th August, 1880, he purchased 25 shares of Tiger—10 shares were transferred to W. S. Birch on 13th August, 1880, and 10 shares in June, 1881—that makes up 558 shares to which he was entitled in the Grosvenor Bank—there is no fraud in respect of them—10s. was paid on all of them—10s. has been paid on all the Grosvenor Bank shares—the point the prisoner made was that half-a-crown was paid on each share and that no call of 7s. 6d. could be found entered in the books—in many cases the shareholders have paid in advance of a call, and I have given instances of that—neither a director nor any shareholder would have the shareholder's certificate for ✗1l. till the 10s. was all paid—the allotment took place on the half-crown in some cases—the full amount was paid on application—the 10s. was largely paid up in advance of call—the Grosvenor Finance Company's shares were 1l. but 10s. only was paid when the fusion took place—those shares were considered as 10s. paid by the Grosvenor Bank, and the Grosvenor bank delivered certificates of 1l. or that 10s.—all the directors had paid up 10s. before certificates were issued—I know that there are certificates now in possession of the Bank which have been signed and sealed, but not issued because the 10s. as not paid up.
By the Prisoner. You asked me for the transfer-book on Saturday—this is the certificate-book—I have not got the transfer-book—that is not in the bank now—I believe Titcomb took it out—there are a great many Finance Company's certificates not there—if a man chooses to hold
it and not bring it up for exchange he would have it still—this certificate of the old Company to F. A. Rudolf does not show it has never been issued—the next one to J. W. Birch has not been issued, nor the one to Thomas Rintoul—none of these have been signed by the directors—those are of the Finance Company—Wells's is signed and issued and exchanged—Titcomb's has not been issued nor signed—money has been paid for him—I have seen the books—I find in the Grosvenor Finance Company register that W. Birch has 558 shares, and in the Grosvenor Bank register W. S. Birch has 558 fully paid up under the agreement on 14th October 261l. was owing them according to this book—John Birch, 260, 130l.—it shows he has an arrear on 11th October, 1881, 262l. 10s. at 10s. a share—that was paid on 4th January, 1882, when the 526l. is entered, instead of 262l., as if it was 1l. a share—Thomas Holder has 1,000, the whole of which has been up on 11th October—the London and Westminster Bank was unlimited when I was there and when I left.
By MR. BESLEY.. The arrears of J. W. Birch means those three half-crowns we have been talking about—I have no doubt the entry of 262l. in January, 1882, is a cheque entered by Titcomb as security, representing the same entry as in the book—the cheque is signed by Titcomb, and shows that 262l., the three half-crowns were paid. (The minute of 11th October was read at the prisoner's request. It stated that it was then determined to affix the seal of the Company to a deed purchasing the Grosvenor Finance Company, and gave the names of the members to whom shares were allotted, with the number of shares allotted to each. )
By the Prisoner. I did not find the name of Crouch there—I found Spinks's name there—there is nothing on 11th October to show any call was made—on 11th December, 1879, in the Grosvenor Finance Company's book is Crouch, three shares, and on 11th October, 1881, in the Grosvenor Bank Company's book, Charles Crouch, three shares transferred to Elliot.
MR. BESLEY. in reply called
THOMAS HOLDER . I have been a cab proprietor 30 years—I live at Westminster—I joined the Grosvenor Finance Company, and a number of friends joined me in the Joint Stock Company, which was carried on in the same street where the Grosvenor Bank was carried on afterwards, Great Smith Street—Titcomb was the manager of the Grosvenor Finance Company—I joined in 1879—I took something over 1,000 shares, and paid 10s. on each—it was very successful, and the shareholders were properly paid their dividends—the greatest confidence was placed in Titcomb—there were about 100 shareholders altogether—the new Company was started for the purpose of enlarging the operations, actually on account of the success of the small Company—I am the chairman of the new Company—I had fully paid up my 10s. a share before I got the share certificate—the new Company bought the old Company for 10,000l., that is 10,000 shares, and 10s. each was to be paid upon them, and all the shareholders who chose to have fully paid up shares took them; 10s. only was paid at first—5,000l. was given by the old Company to the new to be distributed equally; that was for the goodwill and assets—it was sold, and every shareholder got a fully paid-up share of 1l. for what he had paid 10s. for—5,000l. was to represent the Loan Company and 5,000 l. for the goodwill; no one got his share before the 10s. was paid—Mr.
Rudolf was appointed solicitor by the shareholders, and this fusion was managed under his advice, with the consent of the shareholders—the matter was laid before Counsel—I had implicit confidence in Mr. Titcomb in the new Company, such faith in him that I took up 1,300 shares with 10s. paid, which was 650 hard sovereigns, and it went on apparently prospering down to the time of Gauntlett's trial—that was a matter for which Titcomb was responsible—it was the best thing that ever happened to the Directors, because we should never have found this out if it had not been for Gauntlett's trial—it was Titcomb's duty down to the time of his leaving to send the returns to Somerset House—I never interfered with it in the slightest—I had no knowledge of the papers he sent forward—I had not the least knowledge of his not keeping the originals of the returns to Somerset House—Sir James Ingham said that there was no fraud whatever, it was a technical error—Titcomb could have availed himself of the, solicitor if he wished—I did not interfere in the slightest with the way he made the returns—since Mr. Titcomb left, an examination of the new Company's valuables and assets has disclosed a deficiency of some thousands—he lent largely to the swindlers, Pope, Errington, and Pryor, who have been convicted—I called the shareholders together and told them of the state of the affairs—Boaler was in the passage trying to upset the shareholders—one or two of them came up to me and said, "Who is that outside?"—I said, "Boaler, who has been taking us all to the police-court," and Titcomb and Pryor said that they would smash up and wreck the Bank—the shareholders passed a unanimous vote of confidence, and in me individually—we have had to make calls upon the shareholders in consequence of the prisoner's and Pryor's proceedings, but only upon those shareholders who had not paid up the 10s. on the new shares; the old shares were all paid up—there was an end of that Company up to the fusion taking place—the whole of the shareholders in the old became shareholders in the new Company—besides Pryor, who employed the prisoner, no shareholder has accused me of any improper could not—they have been trying to shut up the Bank, which would have been very detrimental, but the directors are keeping it open; they are resolved to keep it going without any call upon the shareholders—the shareholders say, "Why don't you make a call?" and we say, "No; we will keep it open ourselves"—Pryor's proceedings damaged the Bank every time they were put in the papers—the prisoner wanted black mail from us; he wanted 1,000l., and he took proceedings because we would not settle with him—my friends and I subscribed from, 30,000 to 40,000, and the remainder up to 60,000 shares were taken up by strangers—some of the Directors have got 2,000 shares each; I have got 1,300.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw a number of letters which you wrote; I believe I answered this one. (This stated, "I only desire to be fairly remunerated," &c. ) I don't remember ever writing to you; I will toll you why; when you came and wanted so much money we knew that you were working for Pryor, and I said, "We can have no faith in this man, he tried to sell his own employer"—I can't say when you came, to the Bank first, you came so often—I did not keep your letters—you came once to give us important information about Pryor, and asked what remuneration we would give—I said I did not know, I would lay it before the Directors, and I don't think I saw you to speak to you again—you made
no specific demand for money at that time, but afterwards you wrote us letters, which are here—we sent them to the most celebrated solicitors in London, Ashurst, Morris, and Crisp, and got their advice—I had nothing to do with submitting the case to Counsel, Mr. Rudolf did it—I do not think I read this memorandum, but I think I heard it read—you were the last man in the world we should send for, for we found you were selling your own employer—I do not imagine that you made a demand for 1,000l. by this memorandum, but you said a month before that that you must be squared—on 17th July we were convicted in a penalty of 2l. for not having form D up in the Bank; we had the balance-sheet up instead—I don't think I was in Court when the Magistrate put on the penalty; I was suffering from paralysis, and was kept out of Court as much as possible—I don't think this paper (produced) is Penfold's writing; it is more like Titcomb's; it is dated 30th January—the balance-sheet was always up in the Bank—this balance-sheet is dated 7th February, 1884, but it is made up to December 30th, 1883—it is false that I made that balance-sheet knowing that the Bank had lost 10,000l. of its capital; I never knew it till after Mr. Titcomb had gone, not for months after this was out—I can't say whether this account if an exact copy of the balance-sheet—we put up a full statement, and the Act of Parliament does not require half so much—we gave it all in detail instead of all in a lump—the same number of shares are here as are in the balance sheet—I did not know it was false—we have filed a Bill of Indictment against our late manager—this balance sheet was put before the shareholders unsigned by the auditor, but it was adopted and passed at the meeting of shareholders and a dividend paid—Mr. Laurie did not write to me as Chairman and say that he would not sign it, or that he did not approve of it—10,000l. was not lost at that time, not over 4,000l.—the balance sheet was printed, but I do not think I signed it—the report was attached to it—I believe I signed the report; I suppose I must have, as my name is here—the report adopts the balance sheet—this report put the Company's shares at a premium, and I bought some shares afterwards at a premium from different people; I bought all that I could pick up, but I did not apply to the Company for any—I did not take any for bad debts—if it is down in the balance sheet that we have received 31,615l. for shares, that is true—the balance sheet did not go out without my authority; we passed it at the Board as correct—we went through it—I have not said that Mr. Laurie did not approve of it—he approved of it afterwards—it went out before the Directors knew of it—I believe there were two Directors and two shareholders when it was audited by the committee—I was not there—two shareholders have not signed it; I don't think they had to sign it—I do not know who F. G. Saunders is; I suppose he is a shareholder—one of these balance sheets is signed by two shareholders and the other by only one—all our bank-books were taken out of the bank clandestinely by Penfold, and have not come back, I do not know where he has hid them—I believe the statement of the capital being 31,635l. 5s. is true, and I believe that amount was received on December 31st, but I did not examine any of the books or the register of members—when I got your letter in June, telling me that the register was false, I did not examine it—I could not tell whether it was false or true—we went through our accounts and found they were all correct—I went through my own account and each Director went
through his—I believe the register is here—the whole of it is true as far as the number of members is concerned, to the best of my belief, but I never saw it—I knew all that was going on at the Board—I have done everything that came before the Board—I did not know before the meeting that the balance sheet was false, Mr. Laurie said that it was true—I asked him why he had not signed it: he said that he had written a letter to me—I had asked Titcomb, who said that he expected Mr. Laurie went away in a hurry and forgot to sign it; but afterwards he said "There is 70l. mistake between the two branches"—I said "We must sign the balance sheet before the meeting"—he said "No, we shall have to go through the Secretary"—I said "Why did you not tell the Trustees at the time?"—he said "I shall have to sign the balance sheet afterwards"—I said "Is the 70l. there?"—he said "Yes"—we are prosecuting Mr. Titcomb—the deficiency is more than 5,000l., it is 10,000l.—I paid ten per cent. on all my shares—I did not find out the fraud till after Mr. Waram came—when we paid the dividend we believed that the balance sheet was true—Mr. Laurie never did sign it, for after that he found out a lot of mistakes through Mr. Waram, and he found out that the books had been altered—I have not got Mr.Laurie's letter telling me that he would not sign the balance sheet; it was before the meeting—he was at the meeting—I do not think he was at the meeting when the balance sheet was adopted, but if he has sworn so he was there—he did not tell the shareholders he had not signed it, because he told me he believed it was correct—he was sent for—I have not heard his evidence—I can't produce the minute book showing when Mr. Laurie was sent for—I have not received any fee as manager for 18 months, not a shilling, or the Directors either, I would not take it—we lost 700l. on the previous balance sheet, and I said I would not take anything till we could afford to pay the directors their fees—we gave up our fees that we might have a fair balance sheet.
By the COURT. There has always been a list at Somerset House, but I did not know till now that there was no original of it—we had a list printed of the number of shareholders, and I thought it was all correct; there was no obligation upon us to do that, but we had it done.
By the Prisoner. I always believed that the lists were in our books, I did not know that they were not—I never read the summaries—I am suffering from paralysis; they were afraid I should lose my reason, and I kept out of all the Courts—we never made a call of 10s. per share at one time, as the business of the bank increased we paid our money up without a call—some paid half-a-crown, and some 10s., I never saw the books—I was at Bow Street when the conviction took place, and I paid the fine—I have signed the Articles of Association, and have paid nearly 3,000l.—I attribute hundreds of thousands of losses to your agency, but I do not impute to you that you have sent to the bank any borrower who has lost—Titcomb was the liquidator of the Grosvenor Finance Company, and our manager—the Directors always met in the evening, but the office was open in the day time—Titcomb had been relieving officer at Camberwell, I do not know whether he was then—we only opened two hours at night—the shareholders passed a resolution which sent up the shares of the Company—10s. was paid upon them, and the securities were handed over—we paid 10s. to the Finance Company—if it was not all paid then it has been since; every shilling—the Grosvenor Bank gave me 1l. for every
10s. I paid—part was paid to one company and part to the other—I am down as holding 1,000 shares; it does not say "Cash," it says "Credit 1,000l." this entry is a true entry—I received 1,000 fully paid up shares for the 1,000 I had had in the old Company, on which I had paid 500l.—I don't recollect if any call was made on the last 5,000 shares taken; they have certainly been paid without any call, as we wanted money we paid it without any calls—I have received tea per cent, dividend on all my shares—10,000l. was given for the goodwill of the old Company—the old Company was sold according to a resolution of the shareholders; it was sold for 5,000 profit—I have not got the balance sheet of the Grosvenor Finance Company for 30th June, 1881—I will admit that it is supposed to be true—I believed it was a true balance sheet when it was taken out—it showed we had a profit of 267l. 5s. 6d., and were owing our bankers 600l.—that was covered by assets on the other side and securities—I should think all these securities are realised by this time—I should not think some of the loans were renewed again and again and form part of the present case—we have done a good business since then—the bank went all right till Pryor got hold of Titcomb—I know nothing about form D—I should think there were rather over than under three hundred shareholders—I put half of your memoranda in the fire; you sent me postcards for the postman to read, threatening to wreck the bank and make us bankrupt if we did not do these things; and I put them in the fire.
Re-examined. I am forty-eight years old—up to the present time there has been no breath of suspicion against me—I have always earned an honest living—I always tore the postcards up.
By the Prisoner. I did not have a copy of this, and never saw it.
The prisoner contended that as the onus of proving his case had been thrown upon him he had the right of reply. MR. BESLEY submitted that he (Mr. Besley) had the usual right of reply, the prisoner was merely in the same position as one who had called witnesses to prove an alibi. The COMMON SERJEANT ruled that although there might be some doubt as to whether the case was not in the nature of a cross-indictment, Mr.Besly should reply after the prisoner.
The Jury returned the following verdict: "Our opinion is that the directors were not privy to the reports sent to Somerset House being false and fraudulent, but that the prisoner issued the libel believing it to be true, and in view of the gross inaccuracies in, the books we recommend him to the most lenient consideration of the Court."
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
GEORGE EDWARD MUDDYMAN . I keep the Dorwent Tavern at 94, Glengall Road, Peckham—early on the morning of 25th January last I heard my front door bell ringing—I went down and found a neighbour from the opposite side—from something he said I examined my premises and found the taproom window glass had been cut, taken out, and laid down on the floor—my till, which was screwed to an upright, had been tampered with, but not unlocked—we keep our takings in it—my wife
blew a whistle; the constable came—I found the prisoner on the stable in the back yard; I saw him brought by the policeman flown some steps against the stable—he was lying on the roof crouching up by the lantern light.
HENRY PARISH (Policeman P 46). I was called to the Derwent Tavern about 20 minutes past 2—I examined the window; a pane of glass had been cut away—I searched the yard, and found the prisoner lying on his face against the skylight—I asked him what he was doing—he said, "I came here for a night's lodging"—on the way to the station, he threw away a pricker and said, "Now you have lost the best of it"—I afterwards went back and picked it up—I also found a screwdriver, a box of silent matches, a piece of candle, two knives, and a shilling and a halfpenny—the landlord pointed out the marks on the till, they corresponded with the poker—I afterwards went to the prisoner's cell and showed him the pricker—he said, "It does not belong to me."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "It was not me broke into the premises. I come there occasionally when, drunk, and lie down, and I came there on Saturday night about 10 o'clock, and was asleep till the constable came."
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in April, 1884.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
ALEXANDER RAE . I live at 59, Larkhall Late, Clapham—on Sunday morning, 18th January, about half-past 12 o'clock, I was returning home; as I got near 47, Larkhall Lane, I heard a crash of, glass, which seemed to come from the garden of 47, in the front of the house—I went back, and saw Fitzgerald standing two or three yards off; I went past him and then returned, and saw he had been joined bv another man—I went and came back with a constable; the prisoners had then disappeared—the constable sent me on in front—I stood at the corner, of Paradise Road—as I passed No.39 I heard the shrubs rustle and looked in, and saw the two prisoners looking under the front window—the constable came up and took them to the station—in the garden of No. 39 I found a small pocket-knife with an open blade, broken, and in No. 47 we found the glass had been broken and the shutters forced—the prisoners said something about going there to ease themselves.
By the COURT. When standing at the corner of Paradise Road I saw a young fellow and a girl come across, and the fellow came and asked me for a light and gave me a rather low look, they were close by to this—I I saw Jones leave the gate where this crash came from, the other prisoner was standing outside.
EDWARD TURNER (Policeman W 54). The last witness spoke to me on this night, and I went back with him to No.39—we went into the garden, and I saw the two prisoners—they said they went to ease themselves, and one of them stooped, pretending to do up his trousers—I could see they had been doing no such thing—I examined the other house close by and found the glass in No. 47 broken and marks on the window sash and putty cut from it—I found the knife at No. 39 just under the sill—the mark at 47 corresponded with the knife—I got assistance and took them to the station. NOT GUILTY
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted.
FRANK GURTON . I am a salesman in partnership with another at 222, Wandsworth Road, I am a dealer in unredeemed pledges—on Thursday night a few minutes after 10 o'clock I secured the premises and went out, leaving the house shut and nobody in it—I came back at 20 minutes to 12 o'clock—I found the door forced open, there were two locks on it, and I had double-locked it; one lock was picked and the other forced, I saw the place inside in confusion—I went upstairs for my revolver—I found that was taken—I came downstairs and called a constable—on the following Saturday I went to the police-station and there saw the prisoner, he had a pair of my trousers on, I knew them by my private mark on it behind—he said he had bought them for 11s.—another prisoner, Cook, was apprehended and discharged by the Magistrate—I also identify a pilot jacket.
ROBERT ALFRED URRY . I am a pawnbroker, at 102, Acre Lane, Brixton—I produce a coat pledged at my shop on Friday, 16th January, by the prisoner, in the name of John Jones, 6, Rupert Road—I advanced him 6s. on it.
JAMES GODDARD . I was lately a police constable—on Thursday, 15th January, I was on duty in the Brickland Road at ten minutes to 11—I saw some lads coming towards me the prisoner is one of them—when they saw me they ran away—I picked the prisoner out at the station—they got 100 yards before they turned—it was a dark night—there is a public-house on the opposite side of the way—a lady spoke to me at the corner, and I went with her to the corner of a garden in Wandsworth Road, where I found five pairs of trousers and two vests—the lads in running away would pass the corner where I found these things.
CORNELIUS MARCHE (Policeman W 275). I apprehended this lad on the 17th at 2.30, the following Saturday, in Bromley Street, Wandsworth Road—told him I should charge him with being concerned with others in breaking and entering the dwelling-house 222, Wandsworth Road, and stealing the following articles, giving him a list of them—he said "I know nothing about it"—he was afterwards taken to the station and charged—the coat from the pawn shop was shown to him, and I told him he would be charged with stealing it—he said "The trousers are my own, and the coat is all right"—he was wearing the trousers produced to-day.
The prisoner stated that he bought the trousers and coat of a man for 11s.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MARCH 2ND, 1885.