CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
STAPLES, MAYOR. EIGHTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoner's 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, May 31st, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted.
This case arose out of an accident to the defendant's son, who was in the employ of the North London Railway Company. An action was brought against the company for damages, and on the trial Mr. Park was examined as a witness for the company; the verdict was for the company. The defendant applied to Mr. Flowers at Bow Street for a summons against Mr. Park for perjury in misstating the date on which he examined the engine which had caused the accident. The application was refused. He was then, at his own request, bound over to prosecute Mr. Park at this Court. The Grand Jury threw out the bill. He then published and distributed a pamphlet accusing Mr. Park of perjury, describing him as a villain and a scoundrel, and posted placards to the like effect in the neighbourhood. On his trial he pleaded justification and persisted in his accusations. The Jury found him GUILTY , and he was sentenced to Two Months' Imprisonment, and . to find sureties for his good behaviour for twelve months
600. MARY JUDGE (37) , to forging and uttering an application in the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society for the payment of 1l. 9s. 8d.; also to another indictment for obtaining by false pretences from Henry Thompson, a clerk in the Hearts of Oak Benefit Society, a postal order for the payment of 1l. 9s. 8d.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Four Months' Hard Labour. And
601. CHARLES MAFFEY (25), to stealing a post letter and postal order of the value of 2s. 6d., the goods of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General, he being employed in the Post Office; also to forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of 2s. 6d.; also to stealing a post letter and three postal orders, value 10s., 2s. 6d., and 2s., and to forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of 2s.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. CLUER Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 31st, 1886.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
FRANK LARVILL . I am assistant to Richard Gryce, a grocer, of 15, Gloucester Road, Kensington; he also keeps a post office—on May 1st, a little before four o'clock, the prisoner came in for 4s. 1d. worth of stamps—she put down four shillings and a penny—two of the shillings were bad; and I said, "These two coins are bad, where did you get them?"—she said, "I came in a bus from Brompton, and the conductor gave them to me in change for a half-crown"—another assistant, Friend, who is not here, put one between the counter and the till, and snapped it in half—Mr. Gryce gave the prisoner in charge with the two coins, they are of the same date—about 5.30 the same day I received these coins (produced) from McClacken, and saw the Inspector mark them; I see the marks here—I have never seen the prisoner at the shop; I only attend to the post office.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The coins were taken to the station on Saturday night, May 1st, about eight o'clock, and given to the Inspector.
CHARLES MCCLACKEN . I am warehouseman to Mr. Gryce—on Saturday May 1st, about 5.30, I was sweeping outside the shop and found these two shillings outside the door behind a box—I gave them to Mr. Larvill, I brightened them—I did not see the prisoner go in or come out, I was out when the stamps were bought and was away about two hours, but as a rule I am never out—I never saw the prisoner there; I saw her first at the police-court—I returned at 5.30 and began sweeping at once because I saw that it was dirty.
Cross-examined. I cleaned the coins directly I found them because they were so dirty; they were black—I don't know who cleaned the others.
By the JURY. The box had only been there two hours, it is not there as a rule; it was not there when I went out—black came off the coins on my fingers, a kind of metal; I did not wash them, I rubbed them with my dry hands as if it was pewter.
GEORGE OAKLEY (Policeman F 350). I was called to Mr. Gryce's shop, who said that the prisoner had been attempting to pass bad money—I said, "I shall take you in custody for attempting to pass bad money"—she said, "I don't know the money is bad"—I said, "What is your name?"—she made no reply—I said, "How did you come by it?"—she said, "I don't know"—I said, "Where do you live?"—she said, "I ain't a-going to tell you"—I asked her to let me look at her purse, and found in it a good half-crown, a shilling, and twopence farthing—I received these two shillings from Mr. Larvill, and these other two from the Inspector on Monday morning—when the charge was taken the prisoner old the Inspector that she was riding from Brompton and got the two bad shillings in change for a half-crown from the conductor—she gave her name as "Spears" to the inspector, but after she was searched she gave the name of Mary Hill—she was asked her address and said, "I ain't a-going to tell"—I afterwards received fivepence from the female searcher.
Cross-examined. You did not say that you had just come out of Fulham Infirmary and had no home, and would not say at what lodging-house you were.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These four shillings are bad, and one of them is from the same mould as the ones uttered—if blackened with lampblack it would come off with the fingers, without washing—black is put on to give them a tone; it is rubbed off before they are uttered.
The prisoner in her statement before the Magistrate and in her defence said that she got the two shillings from an omnibus conductor, and was going to repay 4s. which she had borrowed, and bought 4s. worth of stamps and one stamp for the postage of them
She then PLEADED GUILTY. to a conviction of a like offence at this Court in September, 1883.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD. and WILKINSON Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE . On 21st April, in consequence of information, I went with Sergeant Reader, and Constables Tanner and Tremlett, to a carpenter's shop at the back of 8, Stacey Street, St. Giles—I opened the door, and saw the two prisoners at a carpenter's bench—I said to the elder prisoner, "We are police officers, and I have information that you have stolen property in this place"—he said, "We have got nothing here but what is our own"—I said, "Have you any china here?"—he said, "No, I told you we have got nothing here"—I said, "We shall have to search the shop"—we did so, and under the bench where the prisoners were standing, we pulled out a box covered with shavings, in which we found two sovereigns and 25 half-sovereigns, all wrapped separately in paper; 216 half-crowns, 81 florins, and 138 shillings, all counterfeit—they were in loads and half loads—I also found some watches and jewellery in the box—I said, "How do you account for having this quantity of base coin in your possession?"—they made no answer—I told them I should charge them with having these coins in their possession with intent to circulate them—they made no answer—at the station they were told the charge—they made no answer.
Cross-examined. I went there about come china which they were supposed to have in their possession—I found in the box two silver watches one with the bow broken off, a gold watch, a gold necklet and cross, a coral chain, five metal chains, and other articles of jewellery; also a watch which had been stolen in the February riots, also the proceeds of burglaries and larcenies extending from June last—the eider prisoner said they had been brought there by different persons and left—I asked him if he knew the persons—he said, "No"—Stacey Street is very near Seven Dials—I also found some Nixey's black lead, and some pots of pickles—they both appeared to be working when we went in.
Cross-examined. The black lead was in cardboard boxes, it is sold at grocers' shops—we have had complaints of that article being stolen from outside shop doors.
SIDNEY TREMLETT (Policeman E 350). On 21st April I went with Partridge, Reider, and Kenner, to this shop at the back of Stacey Street—I searched under the bench where the prisoners were working, and found five jars of pickles, and 26 bottles of sauce, some of them bad Crosse and Blackwell's name on them—I also found a counterfeit sovereign on a shelf under some tools—I asked Frederick how he accounted for the pickles—he made no reply.
JAMES SPILLER . I am a picture-frame maker, of 5, West Street, St. Martin's Lane—I own the house where this carpenter's shop was—Frederick Barton has rented that shop of me for two years at five shillings a week—I have always seen the two working together there.
Cross-examined. I have known them eight or ten years—they have borne the characters of hard working honest men—the son, I believe, worked as a journeyman for his father—he is unmarried—they rented the shop of some one else before me.
Cross-examined. I have always understood them during that time to be honest hard working men—I knew nothing to the contrary—a daughter lived there with them.
Re-examined. It is about a quarter of a mile from my house to their shop in Stacey Street—I saw them every morning while they were at home—I know nothing about who came to their shop.
By MR. PURCELL. They used to go out regularly about 7 o'clock to their work—they kept the hours of ordinary working men.
T. PARTRIDGE Re-examined. I have known the elder prisoner for some time—I have seen him in the company of coiners, and especially with a man named Smith—I have seen him visiting the shop, and have seen him visit public houses in Crown Street, which these men used—I cannot pay anything about the son.
Cross-examined. I often go in public-houses where thieves are—Smith is not in custody—we found a bag in the shop with Smith's name on it—I have also seen him with a man named Loraine, who has had 14 years at this Court for forgery on the Bank of England. (See Vol. 102, page 202.)
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I have examined these coins, they are all bad—here are three sovereigns, 25 half-sovereigns, 216 half-crowns of George III., William IV., and Victoria; they are of various dates and moulds—here are also 181 florins of Victoria, several of which are from the same mould, and 138 shillings, several of which are from the same mould—this piece of metal (produced) could be used in the manufacture of counterfeit coin—Nixey's black lead could also be used, anything of a black nature—the coins are blacked over and then wrapped up separately in paper in loads and half loads, and when they are wanted to be used, they are taken out and made bright by rubbing on the trousers."
The Prisoner Frederick's Statement before the Magistrate. "My son is quite innocent of anything he is charged with, he simply worked with me as a journeyman, the same as any stranger.
GUILTY .— Thomas Barton to enter into recognisances (see Third Court, Thursday).
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 1st, 1886.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
EMMA NEWHAM . I am matron of an Industrial Home known as Trewint, at the Green, Tottenham—the prisoner became an inmate of the Home on lath April last—I believe she is 15 years old—there were 40 girls in the establishment at the time, they slept in dormitories—the prisoner and nine other girls slept in the same dormitory, No. 4—between a quarter and half-past two on Tuesday morning, 27th April, I was aroused by loud screaming—I went out to see what was the matter—I found the screams proceeded from some of the girls on the staircase—I went into No. 4 dormitory—I there saw clothing hanging on the wall, on fire, they were the girls' ordinary clothing, print dresses, petticoats, and other clothing; they hung up on a peg between the prisoner's bed and the bed occupied by Margaret Fox—the prisoner was not in the room—I can't say how many girls were in the room, but Margaret Fox was there—I examined the prisoner's bed, the clothes had been hastily turned back and the bed was wet where the water had gone—we extinguished the fire—I went round the dormitories to count the girls and then returned to No. 4 and saw the prisoner—I did not speak to her or she to me, she only stood, there, apparently very calm and quiet—I told her to get into bed with another girl as her bed was wet—the clothes that were burnt were only the clothes she was wearing in the day time—it had been partly extinguished when I saw it—I ascertained that same night that the clothes belonged to the prisoner, they were hanging in their proper place, there was a peg for the purpose—on the previous Monday, the 26th, my attention had been called to a basket used for collecting waste paper and kept in the bath-room—I noticed a piece of burnt paper lying beside that basket—on the Tuesday morning I examined that basket more carefully, and I found that the paper inside the basket had been lit, and the ends of a piece of rope—there is a rule in the Home that matches are given
out one or two at a time to the girls who have fires to light, they were Henrietta Reynolds and Annie Wells, and the girls in the laundry who took it in turns—on the morning of the 27th, after I had been round the dormitories, I picked up an empty match box on the top landing, the same Landing as No. 4 dormitory, about two yards from the door—I was present when the prisoner was given into custody on the morning of the 27th, she said nothing in my hearing.
Cross-examined. The dormitory doors were not fastened at night—the wall of the dormitory was alight and damaged, the rack on which the clothes hung was charred, the wall paper was burnt off and the wall itself was burnt—a place about the size of the palm of my hand was disturbed, actually burnt—the beds are about 18 inches apart—the rule as to matches being given out was rule of some standing, long before the prisoner came there—there had been no attempt to burn the Home before, or any threat that I knew of—the only reason why one or two matches at a time were given out was because they waste them so—when I first saw the basket my suspicions were not excited—I had no conversation with the prisoner about the fire—she never mentioned any person's name to me as having matches who should not have them—she told me that some girl had heard some other girl say she wished the house was burnt down—I can't remember which girl said it—I did not make inquiries about it except of the prisoner herself—I asked if she had said so, and she then charged it to Edith Coleman as having beard her say it—she did not sleep in a dormitory on the same landing as the prisoner—at the time the prisoner was calm the fire had been put out—the clothing that was burnt was not uniform clothing, but ordinary clothing—the girls Chamberlain and Drewitt did not sleep in the same dormitory or on the same landing as the prisoner—since the fire I have had no occasion to warn a policeman about these girls—I asked a policeman coming by the same train to keep the girls together, I was afraid of their running away.
ANNIE DREWITT .I am one of the inmates at Trewint House—I am 14 years old—on Saturday morning, 24th April, I had a conversation with the prisoner—she said, "I want to run away, and if I can't run away I will catch the house on fire"—the game evening she said, "Will you help me to catch the house on fire?"—she said "I will go down in the kitchen and see if I can see any matches down there"—she went down, came back and said she had been down in the kitchen and got some matches—I told her I should not help do it—on Sunday afternoon we went out in the garden, another girl and I were walking round and the prisoner came and asked us if we would help her—she said would I catch the linen room on fire—on the Monday, about dinner time, she said, "I am going to do it to-night, and I want you to help me"—I told her I had heard enough about it, and told her to be quiet; she called me a sneak—that evening she came into my dormitory about nine o'clock as I was undressing and getting into bed and said, "Mind, to-night," that was all she said, she then went away.
Cross-examined. I have been two months in the Home—we have monitors set over us, Kate Harding is one—I did not tell the matron of these conversations with the prisoner at the time, I did afterwards—I told Kate Harding before I told the matron, she asked me about it on the Tuesday morning after the fire—I told the matron on the Monday evening—I did not tell her before, because the prisoner said she would not do it—
I did not know exactly what she meant by "Mind, to-night"—I did not sleep in the same dormitory as her—we have to stay in our dormitories, we do not run from one dormitory to another after the matron has gone to bed—I never thought the prisoner meant anything, I thought she was joking.
MARGARET FOX . I am 16 years old and am one of the inmates of this home—I slept in the next bed to the prisoner—early on Tuesday morning I was aroused by the heat of the fire and the girls' screams, and I saw the prisoner sitting up in her bed, she was not making any attempt to move—the fire came from the clothes hanging by the side of the prisoner's bed, they were in flames—I got up and ran out—most of the girls left the room—the prisoner got up and said "I am not going to stop here"—we poured some water on the clothes and put out the fire—some of the water went on the bed.
ELIZABETH THOROGOOD . I am 15 years old—I am an inmate of the Home—about 12 in the day, on Monday, 26th April, the prisoner showed me two matches in a box and said, "I am going to set the bath room on fire—I said nothing—I mentioned this after the fire.
Cross-examined. I mentioned it to the matron then—I had no conversation with Drewitt about this—I did not mention this to the matron before the fire, because the prisoner said she was not going to do it—I told her she ought to get rid of the matches—she said she was going to get rid of them—I thought she was joking.
HENRIETTA REYNOLDS . I am 16 and am an inmate of the Home—I acted as cook—I am entitled to have matches—on Saturday, 24th April, I had two matches in a box in the kitchen—I saw them safe about half-past six in the morning on the mantelpiece—I missed them about seven.
ALICE CHAMBERLAIN . I am 18—I am an inmate of the Home—on Saturday morning, 24th April, about eight, the prisoner said she wanted to go away from the Home and wanted to set the house on fire to get away—she asked me if I would set the linen room on fire, and she wanted Annie Drewitt to set the lockers on fire—she said on Sunday night "I am going down to the school-room to set the hats and jackets on fire," and asked me to help her—I said I would not do it—on Sunday afternoon, in walking round the garden, she asked me if I would help her to set the place on fire, and I would not—she said she did not like the matron taking away her box key—on Monday morning she said she had come down on Sunday night and waited for me in the hall for an hour.
Cross-examined. The parlour-maid and the cook generally have the matches, I don't know where they keep them—I did not think the prisoner was in earnest about it—I told the matron on the Monday morning after the fire, Drewitt told her first and said I knew it as well, and then she asked me about it—I have been in the Home two months—I don't recollect having spoken to the prisoner about running away—I did speak about running away after I had been there two days; I said so to some of the girls, not to Drewitt or the prisoner—I slept in No. 1 dormitory, I was not in No. 4 where the fire took place.
ELIZA COOK . I am 16 and am an inmate of the Home—I slept in No. 4 dormitory—it was my duty with another girl to make the beds; on Monday morning, 26th April, the prisoner asked me if I had made her bed,
I said no, and asked why she asked, she said "Because I have got something under my bed I don't want any one to see"—I did not ask what it was—I had not made her bed, Maggie White did—I was aroused by the screams and saw the fire.
ANNIE COLEMAN . I am 16—I slept in the same dormitory as the prisoner—I was awake about 2 in the morning and saw the prisoner sitting up in bed, she looked as if she was putting her hand into her pocket, her dress hung up on the wall—I heard the clock strike two before I went to sleep—I was aroused by screams, and seeing the fire I got up and ran downstairs.
HENRIETTA QUICK . I am 16—I slept in the same dormitory as the prisoner—early on the Tuesday morning I heard the screaming—I heard a match struck before that, I don't know what time it was, I was half asleep and half awake—I did not see the clothes burning, I saw the wall burning, the girls put it out by pouring water on it.
Cross-examined. I slept on the same side of the dormitory as the prisoner—after I heard the match struck I heard some person moving about the room, I was not quite awake then—there was no gas burning in the room, it was put out by Annie Wells the parlour-maid.
CAROLINE BIRD . I am 16; I slept in the same dormitory as the prisoner—I was aroused by the screams early on the Tuesday morning—saw the prisoner standing at the foot of her bed, she was not doing anything—the fire was burning at that time, it seemed to be getting very near the ceiling—I got up and ran out.
Cross-examined. The prisoner appeared to be very frightened.
FLORENCE HAMILTON . I am 17—I slept in the same dormitory as the prisoner, she came on Tuesday, I don't know the day of the month—the day after she came she told me she would either run away or set the place on fire—two or three days afterwards she said "I will set the house on fire"—I told her not to be so silly—on the morning of the fire I was aroused by the screams and saw the prisoner standing at the foot of her bed—I saw the flames there, all the girls were getting out of bed and rushing out of the room.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was the first girl who ever told me she intended to set the place on fire—I have been in the Home three months—I am very fond of the matron and am good friends with her—we sometimes go and tell her our troubles—I did not tell her of this threat, I did not think the prisoner intended it—I never had any conversation with Drewitt or Chamberlain about going away from the Home—the prisoner never asked me to help her put the place on fire, I never said so, I don't remember tolling the Magistrate so. (The deposition stated that the prisoner had asked her to do so.)
MARY ELIZABETH ROBARTS . I am the honorary secretary of the Trewint Home at Tottenham—I attended at the Home on 27th April at half-past 11 in consequence of receiving a telegram—I saw the prisoner and said to her "This is a sad thing that you have done"—she said "I did not do it"—I said "I am afraid you did"—she made no reply—I sent for a constable and gave her into custody—I went upstairs to the dormitory and examined it, I saw the wall was scorched from the floor to the ceiling, and a piece of paper was burnt off the wall quite as large as my hand would cover, and the plaster underneath was blackened—the wooden rail was scorched and blistered, and the varnish blistered off—on the floor
between the prisoner's bed and Fox's I found a match, and the matron picked up two others in my presence, they were charred at the end.
Cross-examined. They were among a heap of burnt clothes—I think the prisoner was the latest coiner of the girls—I have given the matron no instructions to have the girls watched by the police.
MRS. NEWHAM (Re-examined). It was the day before the fire that I saw the burnt paper outside the basket—I am not sure of the time; it was about noon, just before dinner, which is at 1 o'clock—the girls go to bed at a quarter to 9—there is gas in the dormitories over the mantelshelf; the parlour-maid puts that out at 9 o'clock—I went round all the dormitories at 11 o'clock, and everything was perfectly safe then—if the conduct of any of the girls is very serious they are dismissed—they are kept at the Home to keep them from mischief.
GUILTY Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecution.— . Discharged on recognisances to appear for judgment if called upon.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted; MR. MOYSES Defended.
JULIUS TABAK . I am a diamond merchant, and live at 5, Belgrave Street, Euston Road—on Wednesday, 24th March, about 10 a.m., the prisoner and another man came to my house—they were stangers to me—I opened the door to them—the prisoner said, "Your name is Mr. Tabak?"—I said "Yes," and asked what he wanted—he said he was recommended by a French firm to buy some diamonds—I took him into my hall, and asked him his name and residence—he said his name was Touissant, and he stopped at the Bath Hotel, Piccadilly—I then took them both upstairs to my office, and took from a case there some diamonds, 138 carats, to show them—the prisoner looked at them through an eyeglass, and selected six or seven with a pair of plyers, 60 carats—he asked the price—I said 5l. per carat—he divided them in two, and put them in a piece of paper, and put them in a scale—he afterwards said he wanted some large stones for a necklace—I showed him a larger parcel, 80 carats, and he took the large stones out of the parcel, 40 carats; that was 100 carats altogether—the second lot was 8l. per carat—I put both parcels into an envelope, and wrote his name on it—he said he had got nothing but foreign money, he would go to the bank and get English money, and settle with me in the afternoon; he said they would call at 5 o'clock punctually—they did not come back that day; I got a telegram saying they would come next morning—they came next morning at half-past 9—I opened the door—the prisoner said he wanted to buy some large stones for a bracelet—I took them both up to my office—he said, "I want the two parcels that were sealed up the day previous, and to buy some other diamonds for a bracelet"—I showed him some more stones—when I gave him the diamonds he had selected the day before he put them on the table on his left arm, and he selected the other stones for the bracelet—I was sitting down at the time—while he was selecting the stones I felt several blows on my head; I was stunned—I looked round, and had a heavy blow on my temple, which
blackened my eye, and I was bleeding very fast—I took up my diamonds and as I was taking them up I got a heavy blow on my hands, and this hand is paralysed—as soon as the diamonds fell on the table the prisoner took them up—he had the plyers in his hand, and they both left immediately, leaving their hats on the table and the life-preserver—I was screaming "Oh" because I was bleeding so much—my wife came into the room, and after about 10 minutes the prisoner was brought back into the hall with a policeman—I charged him, and went to the station in a cab—they took away about 180 carats of diamonds—this (produced) is the paper they were wrapped in, and these (produced) are the diamonds, but there are 80 carats short—the value of these is about 600l. or 700l.—that is only half; I have got back 94 out of the 180.
Cross-examined. When I was struck I was seated alongside of the prisoner; I had been seated there about 10 minutes—I was struck by the other man—they did not both talk to me, only the prisoner; he acted as interpreter for the other man—the prisoner was the man that bought the diamonds, not the other man—they were both talking together—the other man ran away first; he was next to the door; the prisoner was sitting next to me to pack the stones; at the time I was struck he had the plyers in one hand and the diamonds in the other; he ran away immediately, very fast, with the plyers—they did not speak a word to one another before they ran away.
ELEANOR TABAK . I am the prosecutor's wife—on the morning of this occurrence I saw the two men pass the window before my husband opened the door for them—after they had gone upstairs some little time I heard my husband scream and moan fearfully—I went to the dining-room door and opened it, and as I rushed out of the door the two men passed me, opened the street door, and rushed out—I then saw my husband come down, bleeding fast, and I screamed out "Murder" and "Help."
Cross-examined. The other man was considerably younger than the prisoner, a man about 30, and more active than this man—I saw them the previous day; I saw them as they ran out of the door after the robbery; I could not say which was first—the younger of the two talked most—the prisoner said he was the merchant, and asked if I could speak French—I said "Yes, a little," and he seemed pleased—I spoke more to the other one, as the prisoner could not speak English fluently.
SARAH UTTING . I am housemaid in the employment of Mr. Tabak—on the Thursday morning I remember his opening the door while I was in the kitchen—I heard some people go upstairs—about 20 minutes afterwards I heard screaming coming from upstairs, and heard the noise of people running downstairs—I went up from the kitchen, and saw the two men disappearing through the street door; they had no hats on—I looked up the stairs and saw Mr. Tabak bleeding from the head—I then ran into the street, and saw the two men running; I followed them—when they got into Argyle Square they separated, one went to the right and the other to the left—the prisoner turned to the left into Chesterfield Street; he ran through Chesterfield Street; I followed him there, and across the Euston Road; I kept calling out—when I got into the Euston Road I saw the prisoner in front of me going in the direction of King's Cross; I then got exhausted, and had to lean against the railings—in a few minutes I saw the constable bring him back—the
prisoner is the man I had seen running—he was then in the same state without his hat—I told the constable I thought he had murdered my master, or tried to—he was brought back to the house—as soon as he got there he said in French, "Give me my hat," that was the only remark I heard him make—he was then taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I did not follow the prisoner because he was the nearest to me, there was no remarkable disturbance, but as he was the first one I had my eye on I followed him.
STEPHEN CHAPMAN (Policeman B 61). On 25th March, a few minutes after 10 o'clock, I was in York Road, King's Cross, and saw the prisoner coming towards me without a hat on, and some people following him—I stopped him and took him back, and met the last witness—I took him back to the house, and he was charged—I searched him, and found in a pocket-book this diamond; I also found a list of the sailings of the Cunard steamships—this diamond was afterwards shown to Mr. Tabak, and identified by him—I also found on the prisoner 2l. 10s. in money—he had a pair of gloves, but I did not take possession of them, I put them back in his coat pocket—I might be able to identify the gloves if I saw them again; they were a dirty brown dark kid.
WILLIAM HAYLOCK . On Thursday morning, 25th March, I was playing in Argyle Square—I saw something on the ground which I thought was a bit of glass—I picked it up and took it to school, and later on that night I gave it to my mother; she showed it to a jeweller, and after that it was given to the Inspector at the station—this (produced) is what I found; I am quite sure it is the same.
WILLIAM CROSSMAN . On Thursday, 25th March, I was delivering some fish at the corner of Argyle Square, and saw two men run out of 25, Belgrave Street, without their hats; one ran past me on one side, and one on the right side, and turned round towards Argyle Street—I saw them throw a pair of plyers away; I picked them up and put them in my pocket, and afterwards gave them to the Inspector—I did not follow them then, because it was not my business.
Cross-examined. I saw both of them come out of the house—it was in Chesterfield Street that they threw the plyers away; that would be about 50 yards from the house—when they came out of the house they split; one crossed towards me, and one kept on the same side as the house and turned round towards Argyle Street—they took different directions as soon as they left the house.
ALFRED HENSON (Police Inspector E.) This diamond, which was picked up by the boy, was handed to me on the 26th; it was shown to the prosecutor on the 29th with this pair of plyers which was handed to me by Grossman.
ROBERT WILLIAM BANYARD . I am assistant warder at the House of Detention—on Thursday, 25th March, I was on duty at the entrancecorridor seeing the prisoners from the van on the remand from Bow Street—I saw the prisoner—there is a staircase leading to the reception ward—about 6 o'clock that evening I found this thumb of a glove in a pail, floating in the water—I took it out and put it in my pouch—I afterwards examined it, and found that it contained three separate parcels of diamonds—they were wrapped in three separate pieces of paper—I handed
them to the deputy-governor—the prisoner would pass quite close to that pail.
Cross-examined. I do not know that the prisoner suffers from rupture—I found this thumb in the pail about a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes after ho had been admitted—I do not know whether he had made any communication to any one during that quarter of an hour; he pretended that he could not speak English when he came in.
JAMES THOMPSON (Police Superintendent E). On 25th March, at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I saw the prisoner at Hunter Street Police-station—I asked him his name, and he gave it me—I asked him if he had anything to say with regard to the charge—he said that he was a jeweller's designer, and that he had recently come from abroad; that he had been walking about the streets for two or three nights; that he met a man the day before, and that he went with him to get a few stones—I afterwards went to Clerkenwell, and the Governor handed me these parcels of diamonds that were found in the glove—there were 158 loose diamonds—they have been shown to Mr. Tabak.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said he had been asked by the other man to go with him to get a few diamonds; that was all he said—I have not given this evidence before; I was only called at the police-court to produce the diamonds.
JAMES HENRY SHEPHERD . I am deputy-governor of Her Majesty's Prison, Clerkenwell—Banyard handed me a number of diamonds in three separate pieces of paper—I handed them, in the same state I received them, to Mr. Thompson.
Cross-examined. I cannot say if the prisoner suffers from rupture—I think his age is about 60.
JOHN BRUTON , M.D. I am a surgeon, at 21, Euston Road—on 25th March, between half-past 9 and 10 in the morning I was called to Mr. Tabak—I found him in a state of collapse, lying on a sofa or a large arm-chair—he was scarcely able to speak—there was blood over his face and running down his neck and the back of his head, and on to his chest—the wound on the back of his head was a ragged, star-shaped wound reaching to the bone; blood was flowing from it freely—there was also a wound of a similiar character on the outside of the right eye, just on the edge of the temple, also reaching to the bone, and from which blood was flowing freely; that was all the injury to the head—the ring-finger of his right hand was badly damaged by a very severe blow; it had produced such an effusion of blood that I was obliged to excise the finger to save the nail—there was also a large contusion on the back of the left hand—he was in a very serious condition—they were precisely such wounds as might be inflicted by a blow from a life-preserver—I saw the instrument in the house—I also saw some drops of blood all the way up the stairs into his office, and a pool of blood on the office-floor where he had been sitting.
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction of felony in August, 1876, when he was sentenced to eight years' penal servitude. Three other convictions were also proved against him upon which he had also received sentences of penal servitude for three years, six years , and eight years respectively.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
A reward of 10l. was ordered by the Court to be given to Sarah Utting for her conduct.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, June 1st, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. E. CLARKE, Q.C., Defended.
The libel was of a filthy description, and some equally filthy letters were put in, written by the prosecutor to the defendant. By the consent of Counsel on both sides the Jury were discharged without giving a verdict, and the defendant was ordered to enter his own recognizances in 50l. to keep the peace for six months.
MESSRS. COWIE and BAGGALLY Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
BENJAMIN WALKER . I live at Wixton Cottage, Hendon, and am a grocer's assistant—I have a Post-office Savings Bank account at the Hendon Post-office; this is my deposit-book—on 18th December I went to that office and handed 1l. to the prisoner, who was the clerk there, and he made this entry in my book, "December 18th, 1l."—I received an acknowledgment from the head office, but did not open it for eight or ten days—I then discovered that it was an acknowledgment for 1s., and not 1l.—I spoke to the prisoner about it and he told me to write to the secretary of the General Post-office and say there had been a mistake, which I did.
Cross-examined. He entered it correctly in my book—when I told him about it he said he knew I had paid him 1l.
JAMES GEORGE THOMASIN . I reside at St. Anne's, Hendon, and am honorary secretary of the Hendon Provident Coal Club, which keeps a Post office Savings Bank account at the Hendon Post-office—on 19th December I paid into that account at the Hendon Post-office 1l. which I handed to the prisoner, and he made this entry in my book, "December 19th, 1l. 1s."—I received no acknowledgment from the head office.
Cross-examined. I made no inquiries about it—I made another deposit on the 23rd, and got an acknowledgment for that—I had made a deposit on 9th December, and got one for that—26th January is the last entry—I made several payments between 23rd December and then, one on the 8th and one on 13th January, and I drew out some on 22nd January; there was a balance left then—the prisoner put these initials here.
MARIAN ENGLISH . I am a widow, living at High field, Hendon—I had a Post-office Savings' Bank account at Hendon Post-office; this is my bank-book—on 19th January I deposited 7l., which I handed to the prisoner, and he made this entry in my book, "January 19th, 7l."—I subsequently received an acknowledgment from the head office; I have not got it now, I gave it up—I did not notice that it was for 7s., and not 7l., I only read the word "seven."
Cross-examined. Previous to 19th January I had paid it to Stockbridge
—this lining through of 16th September, 1884, was an error Stockbridge made—I saw it before I left the office, and he altered it; I did not notice that he didn't put the same date—this is the only sum I have paid to the prisoner—I didn't read the acknowledgment, I got it on 23rd January; I had sent my book up on the 20th—I knew my book was right, and I assumed that their letter was right.
Re-examined. I am quite sure I paid the 7l. to the prisoner—Stockbridge's error was two years ago, I think.
MARY SMART . I am the wife of Alfred Smart, the son of the post office receiver at Hendon; it is a grocer's shop—the prisoner was employed in the post-office there—he entered the service in July last year, I think, but he did not have sole charge of the office till November—he had sole charge in February last—it was part of his duty to receive deposits from depositors in the savings bank; the three entries in these three deposit books are in his writing—it was also his duty to make out a daily savings bank account—this (produced) is the one of 18th December; it contains an entry in Walker's name of 1l.—it was also his duty to make out a cash account of all moneys—this is the one of 18th December (produced); it contains no entry of 1l. 1s., only 4s. that day—it does not show an excess of 19s., no excess whatever—the entries in these two papers are in the prisoner's writing; this is his signature at the bottom—the savings bank account of 19th December shows no entry of 1l. 1s. from the coal club; the total of savings bank deposits on that day is 6l. 3s.—the savings bank account on 19th January contains an entry of a payment of Mrs. English of 7s.; the total amount of receipts on that day is 12s.—the daily cash account of that day shows the savings bank deposits as 1l. 2s.; that is made up by a cross entry, that is an entry made in a book not issued from the Hendon Post-office—it shows no cash excess on that day—on 3rd February the prisoner had notice to leave—I was not present when the notice was given; he went out that evening and did not return; he had sleeping quarters in the house—he had balanced up his books before he went out—the following morning we found his keys in his bedroom, and with his assistant, Stockbridge, I opened the post-office cash-box, examined the contents, and found some cheques—I took an account of all that was under his control, and found a deficit of 38l. odd—the first I heard of this was Walker's entry of 1s. instead of 1l.—I discovered about Thomasin's entry and Mrs. English's the day after the prisoner left.
Cross-examined. My father-in-law is not here; he is 76 years old—a foreman superintends the grocery shop—my husband is a grocer's valuer—he has a London address, but no office—I live at my father-in-law's house—my husband was a partner in the grocery business when the prisoner was there—I think the prisoner came in July—he came from St. Ive's, Cornwall, with a good character—my husband engaged him by letter I believe—my husband does not assist in the shop, he buys, but does not sell—I do the books—there are four or five assistants in the shop, Stockbridge is one of them—postal-orders are sent from London and sold—they can be paid without any signature—this is the stamp account, the details are made up every day I think—there is a separate line for Inland Revenue stamps—I cannot tell what denomination of stamps were sold on the 18th—I judge them at 7l., but cannot say whether they were Inland Revenue stamps or not—Stockbridge would sell postalorders,
I do not think Walker, but he could ask the clerk for one, and he could sell stamps—they are both there now—I don't know that they know where to find Inland Revenue stamps—the shop tills were accessible to all the assistants, but they would not take money for postal orders and stamps and put it in the shop till—my husband had to pay 28l. as overdue—he would not take, money out of the till—I only kept the shop books, I did not balance them every night—the shop till was balanced once a week—it is the assistants' duty to put everything they receive into the till, but the post-office is entirely separate from the shop—my father-in-law has never to my knowledge cashed post-office orders, leaving the persons to bring the orders next morning—I never heard of a Mrs. Gover having post office orders for 20l., and my father-in-law paying her the money and allowing her to bring the orders next day—the Post-office people would sometimes let him know when they were coming down to inspect—I do not know whether 26th January was an inspection day—I did not put 29l. among the post-office cash to answer for money my husband had had, he was not at home; his father put the money there—during the time the prisoner and another assistant were in charge of the post-office there was a deficiency of 8l.—I do not know whether there was a deficiency before the prisoner entered the service—the 29l. my father-in-law put in made nominally a surplus of 13l.—I do not know whether he took the 29l. out after the inspection, or whether I took it out; it was taken with Thomas's knowledge, because the account was disputed—if money was wanted for change in the shop they would probably ask Thomas, or whatever clerk was there, for change—they would not ask for it without parting with the coin—my father-in-law of 76 sells stamps, and he would take money from every till in the place—my husband had access to all the tills—the Jury have to say whether the post-office money and the business money were mixed up—my husband has had postal-orders given him by the clerk without paying for them, that is how the 28l. was made up, and also stamps and telegrams—if the prisoner was away at his meals he would be called when wanted, no one else was left in charge—he had to answer letters for my husband, but not away from the post-office—my husband and my father-in-law had the power to dismiss him—the marks on these three sheets were not made at the Hendon office; I think they show that the sheets passed before some official in London—there is no detail on any of them of how the cash was made up; that is the neglect of Thomas—when he left on February 3rd he left a box behind, which he wrote for, and complained that it was detained—he afterwards came down with an official of the Post-office—the keys of his desk were left in his bedroom, but he usually had them in his pocket—Mr. Batty came about February 11th, and when he went into the 28l. deficiency the figures shrank, but I do not know what they shrank to—the cash on the debtor side had been increased to 30l.; that had not to he set aside before we began to count the cash—cash received means that we keep that amount to carry on the post-office business, if we have anything beyond it should be remitted to the Post-office—the accounts are connected one with the other, there is never a full stop—if there was an error in the account we might put it right without a voucher, we should correct it in a moment.
Re-examined. The particulars of the stamps not being given for the 19th is the neglect of the clerk—the shop money is kept in a different till
to the post-office money—if my husband required stamps or postal orders he had an account with the prisoner who rendered an account but not periodically—it was rendered before he paid in the 29l. at the time of the inspection.
By the COURT. The prisoner's duty was to keep an account of all advances made to my husband, and debit him with them afterward, but the account has been rendered in such a loose manner that my husband did not think it was correct, and one day when he was absent some one came down and the 29l. was put with Thomas's cash—when I examined the money after he left I had given him credit for 29l., otherwise the deficit would have been 67l.—none of these items of bank deposits were included in this 38l.
WILLIAM BATTY . I am senior clerk in the sayings bank department of the General Post-office—it is the duty of a post-office official receiving savings bank deposits to fill up these forms showing the deposit he receives—he should first make the entry in the daily savings bank sheet, and then in the savings bank deposit-book of the customer, sign the entry in the book, and stamp it with the official stamp—these three sheets of 18th and 19th December, and 19th January I received from the prisoner, I have compared them with these other sheets and they correspond, there is no excess of cash shown—neither the 19s. balance or 13s. 6d. balance or the 1l. 1s. have been accounted for as savings bank receipts at Hendon—on 11th February I saw the prisoner at Dulwich Road, Herne Hill. I told him who I was, I did not go through the accounts with him, he said probably the stock had been wrongly taken, and I said "If that is the case you had better go to Hendon and go through the accounts with the assistant," and he went there with me next morning, and in my presence Mrs. Smart and the assistant handed him over the stock, and a deficiency of 33l. or 34l. was ascertained—the savings bank books were then shown to him, he said he had received the 7l., and with regard to the other two accounts he admitted having received them and that he had put the money in the till—I spoke to him subsequently about Mr. Thomass guinea and he said he had received it and put it with the rest of the money—these three sums were apart from the deficiency of the accounts which had been made up.
Cross-examined. Smart gave me this letter with the prisoner's address on it where I found him—when I spoke to him with regard to the deficiencies he said "Well, I am quite sure my cash was all right when I left"—he also said the men in the shop and the post-master occasionally sold stamps and took them out in his absence—the cash sheet of 19th December represents the hard cash in hand as 30l. 12s. 11d., the reserve of that time was 50l., that was not a reason why the cash in hand should not be described—in the other two sheets there are no details of stock or cash, that is not because they were using up the old forms, it was negligence I should say—those red marks show that the entries had been checked—this 40l. 12s. 10d. I should think was a supply of stock from Somerset House, and entered at the chief office on a wrong place; it would appear in another account—it is examined and initialled by "R. H."; I can't tell you who he is—postal orders can be used as money orders equally by any one who purchases them as by any one who steals them.
Re-examined. This entry in red was made at the head office in
London, in the wrong place, and has been erased, it was not done at Hendon.
GEORGE WOOLLEY . I live at Kill Hill, Hendon—on 4th January I made up this Inland Revenue form requesting licences amounting to 2l. 2s. 6d., and sent it to the Hendon Post-office with a cheque for that amount—I did not take notice when I received the licences—I did not receive them on the 3rd or 4th January—these (produced) are the licences—they are all dated 29th January.
WILLIAM WHITE ANDREW . I live at Brent Street, Hendon—on 14th January I made up the usual declaration fur Inland Revenue licences amounting to 6l. 18s., and on 23rd January I drew this cheque for that amount, dated 23rd January, and sent it with the declaration to the Hendon Post-office—I received the licences on 5th February.
Cross-examined. I do not know Mr. Smart's writing—I don't know that this cheque is perforated as having been charged against my bank in Chancery Lane, on 31st March, the prisoner having been taken in custody on 3rd March—I have the counterfoil of it in my pocket—it was presented and perforated at the bank after Mr. Smart had put his name to it.
IRVING EDWARD B. COX . I live at Ivy House, Barnet Gate, Barnet—on 25th January I made up this declaration showing 20l. 8s. as my request for licences to the Inland Revenue—I drew a cheque for that amount the same day, and sent them to the Hendon Post-office—I received the licences about a fortnight afterwards.
Cross-examined. The cheque is charged against my account on 8th February, and it is endorsed "J. Smart; Tax Collector, Hendon"—I do not know his writing.
ALFRED EBENEZER SMART . I am the son of John Smart, the receiver at the Hendon Post-office—I have superintendence of the post-office there—I cannot say that I personally received either of these three cheques for Inland Revenue licences—all letters that came through the post addressed to the post-office would be opened by me or my father, and then handed to the prisoner, who was in charge of the post-office—these two letters, containing cheques for 6l. 18s. and 20l. 8s., were either opened by me or by my father, they would then be handed to the prisoner, and it would be his duty to issue the licences, forward them to the addresses given, and the cheques would be passed into his official cash, and ultimately handed to me or my father with other cheques for remittance to the chief office—that would be only when the balance requires it being sent there—these two cheques are endorsed by my wife—I was not present when the examination was made on 4th February—until the licences were issued, it would be the prisoner's duty to attach the cheques to the declarations, and they should not be detached until the licences were issued—he should not put the cheques into his cash account until he had issued the licences or he would show the amounts twice over—Mr. Woolly's cheque looks as if it was paid on 23rd January, it is endorsed by my wife—it passed through our bankers—it was not handed to me personally.
Cross-examined. It is the regulation of the Inland Revenue that licences will not be sent unless a stamped envelope is sent, but they are seldom sent, in these oases they were not sent—Andrew's cheque is signed by my wife, and was paid into our bank, the London and Joint
Stock Bank—the declarations were not found with the cheques pinned to them after the prisoner had gone to his friends at Dulwich—the clerk unpinned it who received it—this other cheque was cashed and paid on 8th February, three days after he had gone to his friends at Dulwich—we get credit for them on the day we pay them in—I don't think Mr. Woolley sent a stamped envelope, his letter was sent by hand—I engaged the prisoner by letter, he had the salary he asked for, board and lodging and 8s. a week—I had the control of his time entirely, he filled up his time answering letters for me—Mr. Proud left in November, after he left the prisoner was the only one who could telegraph; all the shillings he had to account for in the telegraph part were accounted for, if they had not been he would have been discovered in a minute—he has to fill up a sheet of the telegrams put in—if telegrams were sent to us, and the prisoner was not there, our bell would be kept ringing—the postal orders that I had from the prisoner should have been entered in a book, I gave him no voucher or 10 U for them, nothing beyond correspondence—I use postage stamps in my business, I never gave him any money for them—I never took postage stamps while the prisoner was not there—I never remember taking one, I don't believe I have, I think I might safely swear I have not; certainly never any postal orders or Inland Revenue stamps, not one—I don't think my father ever paid 20l. away without getting the warrant, nor did the prisoner complain to my wife that he had done so, nor did she say, "Oh, he is getting old and stupid."
MARY SMART Re-examined by MR. BESLEY. I have not the slightest recollection of the prisoner calling my attention to my father-in-law having paid 20l. of a savings bank withdrawal to a Mrs. Gover without getting the warrant, and my saying that he was getting old and stupid; I did not say that he could not be trusted, if so, I should have recollected it distinctly.
EDWIN FINCH PAGE . I am a clerk in the N.W. District Post-office—on 28th January 1 went to the Hendon Post-office and examined the accounts, and found an excess of cash of 13l.—cheques were produced to me amounting to 29l. 8s. 6d.—if he had produced cheques to me for licences not issued, that would show the amount twice over—no declarations were produced to me at all.
Cross-examined. I didn't ask for them—I should not have accepted these cheques if they had been pinned to the declarations of licences not issued.
CHARLES WILLIAM STOCKBRIDGE . I am assistant to Mr. Smart, a grocer, at Hendon—the prisoner was in the Police-office there up to 3rd February, and on 4th February, after he had gone, I assisted Mrs. Smart in going through the cash in the Post-office—we opened the cash box with the keys which we found in his bedroom, and found these two cheques (produced) (those for 6l. 18s., and 20l. 8s.)—I also found these two declarations in the office, not pinned with the cheques, but separate—one was under a pad on the counter, and one behind a pair of scales used for weighing letters—the cheques and declarations were quite separate—either the next day or the day after, I issued the licences—we did not give credit for these two cheques in going through the stock and cash—after we had given the prisoner credit for everything in the cashbook we found a deficit of 38l.
Cross-examined. When the licences were sent out the cheques were passed to the Post-office and cashed, and they have passed through the bankers and we have got credit for it on 31st March and 8th February—Mr. Woolley's cheque is endowed by Mrs. Smart—I know nothing about that cheque—I understood from the prisoner that Mr. Smart owed him 29l. and that deficit was made up, but whether by cheque or not I do not know—with regard to Mrs. English's book I put 12l. down and she only gave me 7l., she then told me I was defrauding myself and I made another entry, cancelling that of 16th September, and I must then have put 15th instead of 16th; we all make mistakes sometimes—the stamps are the same, they are both the 16th.
MR. BESLEY submitted there was no evidence to show that the prisoner was in the service of the Post-office, they did not engage him, pay him, or dismiss him, he was only in the service of a person who was employed by the Postmaster-General. MR. BAGGALLY contended that Reg. v. Graham covered this case. The prisoner was performing the duties of the Post-office and receiving money on behalf of the Queen and was therefore in the public service. The RECORDER considered that the prisoner was only the clerk to the receiver and not a public servant, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, June 1st, 1886.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
LAZARUS FIELDCOVITCH . I am a tobacconist at 87, Oxford street—on 24th May, a little before nine, the prisoner came in for half-an-ounce of tobacco and put down half-a-crown—I served him with the tobacco, gave him 2s. 4d. change, and then picked up the coin, when I saw it was bad—it felt light and greasy—he started to go away, I called "Stop," and then he started to run out of the shop—I ran after him and called out "Stop thief"—a person stopped him after he had run for about two minutes—I ran after him and did not lose sight of him for one moment—he ran round a post at the corner of a public-house; I could see him every minute—when I came up to him I said, "You gave me a bad half-crown"—he could not answer, he was out of breath or something like that—a constable came up and the prisoner was given into custody, and was taken back to the shop and then to the police-station—at the shop he said he did not know where it came to him—this is the coin I received from him.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You turned back and came past me and then my friend came out of the shop and caught you; my friend is not here.
Re-examined. We had much difficulty in catching him; he really tried to get away—I could not catch him as he came past me—my friend could
not speak English; his evidence was offered but the Magistrate refused to bear him.
JOSEPH JONES (Policeman C 107). I was called to this shop and the prisoner, who was there detained by the last witness and his friend, was given into my custody—I said, "This gentleman wishes to give you into custody for possessing a bad half-crown"—he said, "I don't know hot I got possession of it"—I found on him a good 2s. piece; the 2s. 4d. was On the counter at the time, be bad given it up with the tobacco—on the 25th, when he was in the waiting room of the Marylebone police-court, he voluntarily said to me, "I have been ill these last three months; I have been into an asylum in Cleveland Street. I have only been out of prison three months; I was sentenced at the Old Bailey to nine months' in 1885"—I said, "What for?"—he said, "For possessing five counterfeit florins"—this half-crown was handed to me by the first witness, who marked it in his presence—the friend who stopped the prisoner was at the police-court; the Magistrate said he did not think his evidence necessary.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he had only just come out of the asylum with 14s., among which was the half-crown, which he had received in change from a man in the asylum, and which he did not know was bad.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of uttering in May, 1885.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
LEARY PLEADED GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
SARAH WOODTHORPE . I am the wife of William Woodthorpe, who keeps a general shop at 33, Cornelia Street, Roman Road, Islington—on 4th May, about 1 p.m., Kennedy came in for a bottle of ginger beer, price one penny; he threw a half-crown into the butter scale so that it rang—I gave him the ginger beer and tried the coin with my teeth; it was very soft—I returned it to the prisoner and told him it was bad—he then gave me a good shilling; I gave him a sixpence and fivepence change, and he left—I soon after made a communication to Mr. Woodthorpe and he followed the prisoner—this is the same coin, here is the mark I made on it with my teeth.
WILLIAM WOODTHORPE . My wife made a communication and described Kennedy to me—I then went out and saw him turning the corner of Barnsbury Grove, near my shop—I followed him down the road, he met the other prisoner and they went along the Roman Road, Kennedy looking behind him several times—they entered the urinal at the Alfred Tavern and remained there from 15 to 20 minutes—I crossed the road and went into the Brewery Tap and called for a glass of ale, and watched the urinal, which I could see from where I stood—when they came out together I followed them and called a constable's attention to them, and he followed and arrested both of them—I did not hear what passed, I went back to my shop.
I stood for about 12 minutes behind a cart which was standing in the Roman Road—they came out of the urinal and went farther along the Roman Road in the direction of the Caledonian Road—I remained there till the prisoners passed where I was standing behind the cart—an omnibus was coming along, the last witness came and made a communication to me and I followed along behind the bus, and when I got close to the prisoners I sprang out from behind it, caught them by their collars, and took both into custody—I told them I should take them into custody for uttering bad coin—they were quite dumbfounded, and could say nothing till I got to the station—at the station I found on Leary 16 half-crowns in his right and left coat pockets; one of the 16 has been identified by Mrs. Woodthorpe, there is a number on it—he also had 17d. in bronze on him; he made no answer to the charge—on Kennedy I found a good sovereign, three half-crowns, two good and one bad, 13 single shillings, fire sixpences, seven pence in bronze, and one half-franc—that money was all good except the one half-crown—before I searched him he said, "I have only one bad coin on me"—he gave a correct address.
Cross-examined. I also found a silver watch and chain, a gold ring, and a key on you.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These 17 half-crowns are counterfeit—the one found on Kennedy is from the same mould as one of the 16, and the one found on Leary, which had been given back to Kennedy by the prosecutor, in from the same mould as one of the 16.
Kennedy's statement before the Magistrate. The bad half-crown found on me I had from Leary in part repayment of four shillings I had lent him.
The prisoner in his defence stated that Leary gave him the coin, that he put it in his purse, not knowing it was bad, and thought he must have had it in change for a sovereign, but that when he came out of the shop he saw Leary in the street and went and spoke to him about it, and was then arrested.
GUILTY — Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
CAROLINE ADAMS .—I am a barmaid at the Green Dragon public-house, Garden Place, Stepney, kept by Alfred Walter—on 21st April, about half past 8 p.m., the prisoner came in for half a pint of four ale and gave me 2s., which I tried and bent readily in the tester—I called to Mr. Walter who came in—I gave the coin to him—before I did so I told the prisoner I thought the coin was a bad one—he made no answer—Mr. Walter broke the coin in the tester into pieces, which he gave back to the man—he then paid with two good halfpence and left the house.
By the COURT. I should know the man out of a thousand—I can swear to him—I identified him at once by his face at Arbour square.
ALFRED WALTER . I am landlord of the Green Dragon—I was called into my bar and Adams handed me the counterfeit coin, it was then slightly bent—she said to me (the prisoner was standing close by) "This man has given me a bad two-shilling piece"—I said, "This is a bad two shilling piece, where did you get it from?"—he said, "I got it from the market"—there is a new fish market at Shad well, near my house, and there is a sort of market place at the back of Stepney Church—I broke it in several pieces and gave them back to him, and
he paid me with two halfpence—I had not seen the prisoner before—I took particular notice of him—I followed him, and eventually he went down Anchor Street and into a private house there—I made a communication to a police officer and described the prisoner to him—I next saw the prisoner on the Tuesday, about a fortnight afterwards, when I identified him at the station from four or five others without any hesitation—I recognised his face and general appearance—the coin broke easily in the tester, it felt gritty between my teeth and in my hands it felt greasy and light.
Cross-examined. I should know the house you went into—I saw you at the station before I picked you out—the door was open and I saw you amongst them passing out, your hat was on—I positively swear to you.
WILLIAM MARK GAUGE .—I am landlord of the Hermit public-house, Bedford Square, Mile End—on 24th April, the prisoner came in a little before eight for half a pint of four ale and gave me a two-shilling piece in payment—I saw it was bad and bent it with a pair of plyers—I asked the prisoner where he got it and he said Billingsgate; he then paid me with a good penny—I sent for a constable, kept the prisoner waiting nearly 40 minutes, and then, as I could not get a constable, I let him go—this is the coin—seventeen days after, on the Tuesday, I saw the prisoner among six other persons and picked him out—he was in my sight all the 40 minutes he was in my shop—he waited there voluntarily and then went.
Cross-examined. I did not have my hands on you—I was on the other tide of the counter—you at last said, "I have been here half an hour and I shall wait no longer, and you then went.
Re-examined. I had told him to wait and said I should give him in charge, and he said he would wait—I let him go without attempting to bring him back—other customers were there—my house is about three-quarters of a mile from the Green Dragon.
ROSE JARVIS . My husband keeps the Devonshire Arms, Burns Street, Limehouse—on 27th April, a few minutes after 8 p.m., the prisoner came in for half a pint of four ale and put down a bad two-shilling piece in payment—I tested it and found it was bad, it bent easily—I said it was bad and asked him where he got it from—he said, "From off the Flats," and that he was not aware it was a bad one—no doubt he meant Wanstead Flats—I gave the coin back to him bent—he gave me a sixpence which I also bent, it was good—a constable was in my house in private clothes, off duty—I made a communication to him and he went out and brought the prisoner back—I gave him into custody—the potman took the florin from the prisoner, this is the one I bent and which I gave back to the prisoner.
GEORGE REYNOLDS (Policeman 368 H.) On 27th April I was off duty and in the Devonshire Arms public-house—Mrs. Jarvis made a communication to me—I saw the prisoner at my bar—I saw him leave the house and followed him and overtook him—I said, "Have you any more bad coins about you?"—he made no answer, but showed me a florin and sixpence, good silver, the florin was bent—I took him back to the public-house and he was then given into my custody—I took him to the station, on the way he was very violent and I had call in the assistance of a civilian—at the station he was asked how he came by the florin—he said
he got it on Wanstead Flats, that he had got it in exchange for coppers which he had earned by turning a skipping rope.
Cross-examined. I told you I was a constable when I took you into custody—I brought you 100 yards and then you tried to get away.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he knew nothing about the last coin being bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
GEORGE STOCKS . I am barman at the Blue Anchor, Whitechapel Road—on 8th May, about a quarter or twenty minutes past 9 p.m., the prisoner came in for half a pint of ale, price 1d., and gave me this florin in payment; I found it was bad and showed it to the landlady—I went and told the prisoner it was bad—he said, "Give it to me back, I will go and get some money to pay for it"—I did not do so—he then made a rush out of the house; he was stopped by the neighbours and given into custody—this is the florin I received from him, I gave it to the constable—the prisoner was taken to Worship Street police-court and discharged.
CHARLES ANDREWS . (Policeman R 187). I was called to the Blue Anchor and the prisoner was given into my custody—I told him he was charged with uttering this florin; he said "I must have taken it in the City this afternoon"—I found nothing on him—he was taken before the Magistrate on the 10th, remanded till the 18th, and discharged—this is the bad florin I had from the last witness.
CAROLINE LOUISA GRUBER . My husband keeps the White Swan, in Farringdon Road—on 21st May the prisoner came in at half-past 11 p.m. for a half-pint of fourpenny ale, and gave me a shilling, which I found was bad and handed to my husband—I told the prisoner it was bad; he said "Give it me back again"—I said "No"—he then offered to pay a penny for the half-pint, I refused—he was sober.
GEORGE GRUBER . On this night the prisoner came in for half a pint of fourpenny ale, and I saw him slide a shilling along the counter in payment—my wife picked it up and handed it to me—I found it was bad—it was light, greasy, and gritty—I said to the prisoner "You passed base coin before, two or three months previous, in my place, and I will give you in charge this time"—he made a rush to the door and tried to go by, and pretended to be drunk—I called my potman to detain him—two or three months ago the prisoner tendered this bad sixpence, which I have kept separate ever since—I did not notice it till I gave it to another gentleman in change, who said "This is a bad coin," and when the prisoner heard that he drank up his ale and went out, and I had not seen him since till this time—he was sober, and only pretended to be drunk when he was found out.
JOHN TURNER (Policeman G 456). On 21st May I was called to the White Swan, and took the prisoner into custody—he said nothing then in answer to the charge—he was sober, but began to act drunk as soon I entered the house—he went very quietly with me after I got him out—at the police-station I searched and found on him two halfpence—he then said "I am drunk, I know nothing about it"—I received a shilling from Mrs. Gruber.
The prisoner asserted his innocence, and stated that he was very drunk when he received the shilling in a public-house at the corner of White Star Street.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
SWAIN PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
MERCY TOWNSEND . I am barmaid to Mr. William Butcher, at the Elephant and Castle public-house, Great Peter Street, Westminster—on 10th May, about 8.30 p.m., the prisoners drove up in a cab—they brought the cabman into the house—swain called for twopenny worth of ginger brandy for the cabman; he paid my sister 2d. in bronze—I then served him with two pots of ale; he tendered a half-crown; I gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and 4d. change—I put it in the till by itself in a glass—Swain gave the ale to customers in the bar, and Murphy drank the ginger ale; he was by the side of him—I again served Swain with two pots of ale and twopenny worth of ginger brandy; he paid with a half-crown; I gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and 2d. change—I put the half-crown in a glass with the other—Swain gave the beer to the customers—Murphy drank the brandy—I then served swain with two twopenny cigars; he paid me half-a-crown; I gave him four sixpences and 2d. change—I put the half-crown in the glass with the other—Swain said, "Have you got larger silver?"—I said, "I will go and see"—I returned with the two-shilling piece for the four sixpences—Murphy then said to Swain, "Never mind"—Swain smoked one cigar, 1 think he gave the other to Murphy—I afterwards served Swain with two pots of ale and twopenny worth of ginger brandy; he paid for that with a half-crown again; I gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and 2d. change—I put that half-crown with the others—Swain gave the ale to the customers, Murphy had the brandy—I served Swain with two more pots of ale; Swain laid down a half-crown; I put it with the others; I gave a shilling, a sixpence, and 2d. change—Swain gave the ale to the customers; there were about half a dozen customers—after I had received the fifth half-crown I spoke to my sister, Mary Butcher; she came into the bar—Swain said, "I must be getting home because my wife is waiting for me"—swain asked my sister for five shillings' worth of coppers—after my sister went to look at the glass Murphy said "Never mind"—I heard Murphy say to Swain, "If you lose I'll be half; "that was when Swain asked for the coppers; they were in conversation about the coppers, I could not hear what it was—my sister went to the glass, found the money was bad, and sent for a constable; Chandler came—Murphy was a customer—these are the coins (produced) I received—I saw them handed over to the constable, three together, and my brother gave him the other two—we only tried three first, as the prisoners were going, and we were in a hurry—I had seen Murphy there on the same day; he
was standing by Swain all the time—I have been a barmaid with my sister the landlady a fortnight; this is the first public-house in which I have acted as a barmaid; I have been a general servant.
Cross-examined by Murphy. I served for my sister a year and six months ago; I was there nine months.
Re-examined. I knew Murphy as a customer daring the fortnight, also during the nine months I was there before—he had only come from the Militia on the Saturday—I had not seen Swain till this night.
MARY BUTCHER . My husband keeps the Elephant and Castle—the last witness is my sister, and assisted in the bar—on the evening of 10th May she made a communication to me—I saw the prisoners standing together in the bar; Murphy was in the corner, the other one was passing the money—I served Swain first with twopenny worth of ginger brandy—I stood some time for my money, and he said, "I suppose I must give you the money," and got out of the way—a great many customers were in the bar—I have never seen Swain before—I went to the other end of the bar to serve my customers, as it was the jug trade time, and I left my sister to serve—Murphy has been a customer since I have been there, four years—my sister showed me a half-crown; she asked me for the coppers to give change—I looked at the five half-crowns; I tested three, and gave the others to the constable—only the five were under the glass—I gave Swain into custody—Murphy stopped in the house a quarter of an hour—before I sent for a constable Swain said, "I want five shillings' worth of coppers, missus," but I discovered the had money and would not give it to him till the constable came—I did not say anything or he would have been out of the house—when Murphy left he said, "I am going to bed."
HARRY CHANDLER (Policeman A 962). On 10th May, about 9 p.m., I went to this public-house—Mrs. Butcher made a communication to me, in consequence of which I went to the bar where the prisoners were—she said, "I shall give him in charge for uttering five counterfeit half-crowns," referring to swain—he did not say anything to that—I said, "I shall take you into custody for uttering five counterfeit half-crowns"—I took him into custody—outside he struggled violently to get away; with the assistance of another constable I took him to the station—on the way I saw him throw a half-crown from his hand; I picked it up; this is it (produced); it is bad—on being searched at the station eight shillings and seven sixpences were found on him, and 4 1/2 d. in bronze, good money—I received five counterfeit half-crowns from Mrs. Butcher, and two others afterwards.
JOSEPH SAMMARS (Police Sergeant A). In consequence of information form Mrs. Butcher on 10th May I took Murphy into custody at 1.30 the same night at 90, Great Peter Street, first floor back room—he was lying on the bed with his clothes on—it is about 100 yards from the public-house—I said, "I am a sergeant of police; you will be charged with being concerned with another man in custody in uttering five counterfeit half-crowns at Mr. Butcher's over the way"—he said, "I know nothing at all about it"—I took him to the station; he was placed in the dock and charged—he was then asked what he was by profession; he said, "I am a thief"—he had had a little to drink, but he put it on a great deal more drunk than he was—I found a shilling silver and 2d. bronze
upon him, good money—a half-crown was picked up by a lad and brought to the station.
JOHN HOGAN . I am an apprentice, and live at 5, W Block, Peabody's Buildings, Pimlico—on 10th May, about 9 p.m., I saw swain in the custody of Chandler; they passed me in Grey Coat Place—I picked up this coin when they had passed me about 50 yards—I took it to the police-station and gave it to an officer.
The Prisoners Statements before the Magistrate. Murphy says: "I was not aware it was any bad money; I was simply drinking with swain." Swam says: "This man has nothing to do with the money. I changed the money. I did not know it was bad. We knew each other in the Militia. The man did not know anything about the money more than I."
Murphy's defence was that he met Swain, whom he had known in the Militia and went with him to the public-house in Great Peter Street to drink, where he had been well known. He knew nothing about the money being bad, and that he was drunk and did not know what he said.
Witness for Murphy.
BARTHOLOMEW SWAIN (The Prisoner). I live at 4, Langley Court, Long Acre—I am a newspaper seller—you (Murphy) knew nothing about the coins being bad—you were in my company drinking—we were in the Militia together, and as we met we drank together—I passed the money—we were both in the cook-house in the Militia, that is how I came to know you.
Cross-examined. We met in St. James's, and came to Great Peter street in a cab together—both were three-parts drunk, that is why we' took a cab—I met him casually in the street.
MURPHY— NOT GUILTY .
SWAIN**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK JOHN NEAL . I am a butcher, of 147, Middleton Road, Kentish Town—on 27th March I served the prisoner with fourpennyworth of steak—he tendered what appeared to be a half-crown—I noticed it when he put it on the block, it was bad—I said "This is a bad one"—he said "If it's a bad one, governor, put the chopper through it," or "Hit it with the chopper"—I said "I do not want to knock your money about, man, hit it yourself," and I put it on the block—he took the chopper in his left hand and cut the coin across, and picked it up—the blow bent the coin—he took out another half-crown from a leather bag or purse; I thought that was a bad one, but it was good—I sent for the constable and gave him into custody—he was charged before the Magistrate and remanded—this is the bad half-crown (produced).
BENJAMIN PRY (Policeman Y 76). I was called to this shop and took the prisoner into custody—he said "I am very sorry; I did not know it was a bad one"—this coin (produced) was handed to me by Mr. Neal—I said to the prisoner "Where did you receive this half-crown, how did you come into possession of it?"—he said "I received it in wages from my employer, Mr. Yorke, one of four half-crowns"—I took him to the
station—he said he was employed by Mr. Yorke, of the Stanhope Street Saw Mills—I made inquiries there; he gave me the name of George McCormack.
WILLIAM HARRISON . I am the landlord of the Bay Malton public-house, 158, Great Portland Street—on 22nd May, about 2 p.m., I served the prisoner with some drink—he tendered a two-shilling piece; the drink came to 1 1/2 d. or 2d.—I looked at the coin, I thought it was a bad one, so I put it in a separate part of the till by itself—about two minutes afterwards I discovered it was bad; the prisoner had then left—I bent it; this is the coin (produced)—on the 23rd he came again, about 9.50 p.m.; I saw my son serving him—I spoke to my son, who brought the coin to me—I looked at it, it was bad; I broke it as it is now, in the rack of the till—I gave him into custody.
ARAGOA HARRISON . I assist my father—on Sunday, 23rd May, I was serving about 10. p.m.—I served the prisoner with twopennyworth of port wine—in consequence of something my father said to me I took him the two-shilling piece which the prisoner had tendered—this is it—I saw the prisoner on the Saturday about 2 o'clock; we have a clock in our shop—I know it was 2 o'clock because we stop the dinners then, and the dinners were just over—the dinners begin about 12 o'clock.
HENRY FREEMAN (Policeman S 104). The prisoner was given into my custody on the night of 23rd May—on being told the charge he said that he did not know that he had received the money—he said "I am innocent, I didn't know I had it; I got it in change in a public-house in Tottenham Court Road"—this is the coin (produced)—he was searched in a compartment of the public-house—I found on him two half-crowns in silver, and 1 1/2 d. in bronze, good money—he didn't say anything in answer to the charge—he was asked his address and refused it—he said "I do not want my friends to know this has happened to me, I do not want to disgrace them."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say, and have no witnesses to call."
Prisoner's Defence. I didn't get my wages till half-past 2 on Saturday—I was there the other night.
GUILTY .†— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, June 1st, 1886.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
619. JOHN NEWTON (26) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Herring, with intent to steal and to a previous conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in September, 1884.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
622. CHARLES NEWMAN (20) to stealing 4s. 6d., the moneys of Abraham Mullins, and to a previous conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in July, 1885, in the name of William Caveley.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. WOODGATE defended Keating; MR. PURCELL defended Worssam and Harvey.
ELIZA ANNIE WHITE . I lire at 3, Hornsey Road, Holloway—I am saleswoman to Mr. Cook, of 12, Old Bond street, furrier—on Friday morning. 7th May, in consequence of receiving a telegram, I went to 12, Old Bond street, to go through the stock with Mr. Cook—I found the house broken into, and a large quantity of goods missing—I left the shop at 7.15 the previous evening—I then saw the stock perfectly safe—I was the last person to leave—I locked the shop myself—the goods were kept in drawers which were not locked—I gave the keys to Mr. Cook on 6th May.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The upper part has a studio being built quite independent of the shop—I did not see the workmen when I left.
ANDREW PRIDE . I am a carpenter, of 45, Okehampton Road, 8t. Peter's Park—about the 7th May I was employed in repairs and in an addition to the top of 12, Old Bond street—I left the premises on 6th May about 7 p.m.—I had seen all the workmen off—I locked the place up—on the 7th I went about 7 a.m.—I found two or three empty boxes in the passage, and a panel cut out of the shop door; the previous evening I had seen those boxes standing up against the door in the passage—the door divides the shop from the passage—I found a pad saw, a screw driver, and a knife—the screw driver and saw belong to Mr. Lock, my employer; the other tools belong to workmen employed on the place—the tools were left on the 6th on the second floor, on a bench; any one getting into the place could get those tools—I do not know the prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. In the morning I found the street door in the ordinary condition—I opened it with a key—there were no ladders—the working operations were conducted by going through the street door and upstairs.
CHARLES COOK . I am a furrier, of 12, Old Bond Street—I do not live there—a constable came to my house on the morning of the 7th—I went with him to my place of business—I found a panel had been cut out of the shop door—on opening the drawers of the shop I found most of them empty—I received the keys of the shop the night before from Miss White—I telegraphed to her, and went through the stock—I missed about 500l. worth of property—this is a portion of it produced; I have received the rest of it back.
JOHN CONQUEST (Police Inspector). On Friday morning, 7th May, I received information, and went to 12, Old Bond Street—on Saturday morning, from information I received, I went with Richards and Tallin to meet the witness Van Boolen—from what he said I gave certain directions—about 12 noon on Saturday a cab was seen approaching the London and County Bank, Oxford Street, with two sacks on the roof—Keating and Worssam were inside—the sacks were filled with furs—the cab was seized with the property and the two prisoners, and taken to Vine Street—Keating gave his address as 79, Oakley Street, Westminster Bridge Road—I went with Sergeant Tallin to that address—I searched the back room—Mrs. Crook, the landlady, gave me some information—Harvey
came to the door of the room—I said, "Who are you?"—he said, "I don't think you ought to ask me that question"—I said, "We are police officers, I want you to tell me who you are; what is your name?"—he said, "My name is James Howard"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "I decline to tell you"—I said, "Your friend Keating is in custody for stealing a quantity of fur"—he said, "I did not want to see Mr. Keating, I wanted Mrs. Keating; Mrs. Keating is ray friend"—I again asked him for his address; he still refused it—I told him he answered the description of a man concerned with Keating in this robbery, and he would have to go with me to the police-station—when charged, he gave the name of James Harvey—he again declined his address—on the Sunday evening following he gave an address—when charged at the police-station he said nothing—he was identified by Van Boolen as one of the men who had dealings with him in the property.
Cross-examined by MR. WOODGATE. Keating said to Richards, when arrested, that Van Boolen brought the goods to his house—I had been making inquiries about the robbery—I did not know Van Boolen before this; Richards and Tallin knew more about him.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I received the usual information that is circulated amongst the police on the Friday about 8 am., describing the property—I received information from Tallin, who had known Van Boolen—I knew him by repute as a marine storedealer—Harvey came to the room about an hour after the apprehension of Keating and Worssam—Richards went to search Harvey's residence.
EDWIN TALLIN (Detective Officer C). I was with Conquest, and corroborate his statement—I took Keating into custody—I told him he would be charged with being concerned in stealing a large quantity of furs at 12, Bond Street, on the 6th inst.—he said, "That man brought them to my place," pointing to a man in the cab—Van Boolen came to me at the police-station and gave me information.
Cross-examined by MR. WOODGATE. The police had been making inquiries about the robbery—I have known Van Boolen some time, I Know tome of his relations.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Van Boolen was alone when he came to the station about 9 o'clock on the Friday, but he said he had been running about all day to find me—I know his store shop—he lives away in a large house, his wife lives there.
CHARLES RICHARDS (Police Sergeant C). I was with the other officers when the prisoners were taken into custody, and confirm their statement—I told Warssam I was going to take him into custody for stealing the furs which were on top of the cab—he said "What is the matter?"—I repeated it—he said "You are going to plane me under arrest?"—I said "Yes"—he said "All I know is that the man Van Boolen asked me to have a ride"—when taken in charge he said "I wish to make a short statement as to how I got into this trouble. I left home at 11 a.m. and was walking down the Westminster Bridge Road by myself when a man I should certainly know again asked me to lift this up for him, when I had done so he gave me a shilling and asked me to get out again and take it out and he would give me another shilling"—he was searched and 1s. 5 1/2 d. found on him and this memorandum book with this memorandum: 26 caps at 2, 15 dol at 5 52l. and 75l. 127l."—he gave me an address—I went to his house and found two small laws, a screw driver, and a chisel
—I afterwards went to 79, Oakley Street, Keating's house, it was after Conquest had been there—I found between the slanting roof and the ceiling on the top of the staircase above the room occupied by Keating a brown paper parcel containing a sealskin jacket and sealskin capes—they are part of the stolen property—about half an hour after the cab was stopped I saw Harvey close to the Bank in conversation with Van Boolen.
Cross-examined by MR. WOODGATE. Keating's address was correctConquest told me Keating said I should find goods on the premises.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I did not go with Conquest to Keating's house—I had seen a man with dark moustache speak to Van Boolen—they parted and Van Boolen went to the public-house—I did not stop the dark man, I did not know them—I was there for a purpose—Van Boolen spoke to me afterwards, he stayed a few minutes.
MARK VAN BOOLEN . I am a general dealer of 6, Leicester Place, Leicester Square—I have a shop at 15, Little Newport Street—on 7th May, a man called and said something to me—I went with him to 79, Oakley Street, where Keating lives—I saw Keating and went upstairs with him to the second floor back; he showed me two bags of capes, jackets, and tickets, 41 pieces—I examined them and put them back into the sacks—we crossed over the road to a public-house; I saw Worssam and Harvey; Keating and Worssam asked me 112l. for the furs, both spoke; I offered them 60l., they communicated together and with Harvey they said I could have them for 62l. 10s.—I agreed to that; the bargain was to be completed the next day—the next day I went to Keating's house and saw the furs again; Keating put them into two sacks again—we carried them into the Westminster Bridge Road; Keating and Worssam were there, not Harvey—we got into a four-wheel cab; we took the bags; we were stopped by the police—I asked no questions of Keating, I saw the furs were worth double the money—I made a communication to the police directly after I saw them on the evening of the 7th—about 10 minutes after Keating and Worssam were in custody I saw Harvey about two doors from the London and County Bank—he asked me if I had sold his furs, I told him no, and he went away after we had had a drink—I did not tell Harvey the others were in custody—I spoke to the police about Harvey.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I did not go to Keating's house alone—I made a mistake when I said before the Magistrate no one else was with me—I went with another person than the ginger-whiskered man—it did not strike me as unusual that a strange man should take me over Westminster Bridge—the second man came in my shop, I do not know his name nor where he lives; I never showed him to the police, I never mentioned his name; he understood fur—I had never gone to Keating's before, certainly not at 9 o'clock on Thursday night to carry in a bundle of furs—the landlady swears to a man similar to me, but on my oath, I have never been inside Keating's house before, and never saw him before—after going to Keating's house and the public-house there were five men present, one was a dark-whiskered man, I saw him on the Saturday near the Bank—the police were on the other side of the way then—I had never seen Harvey before—Keating and I each carried a bag from the house in the Westminster Bridge Road, where we met Worssam—I did not ask Worssam to help lift the fur on to the cab, Keating did it—we did not discuss the prices in the cab—that is not how the entries came to be made
in the memorandum book—I went to Vine Street with the cab; I came back to the bank and saw the dark whiskered man—the officers were waiting about; the dark whiskered man went away—I went to the public-house with Harvey to have a drink—Harvey and the dark whiskered man asked me where Keating was and I would not tell—I have carried on business at Little Newport Street 16 years—I live in Leicester Street; I have more houses, they are not mostly occupied by ladies, but only married women, shoemakers, and tailors, and so on; I do not keep brothels—I have a brother, he is living in the Euston Road—he has been there two years—he lived in Newport Market before it was pulled down—he has not visited the Middlesex Sessions—the billiard balls matter concerned a different man altogether—I heard of the man getting five years' penal servitude—he is a relation.
Cross-examined by MR. WOODGATE. I never told Keating to place the things in the roof.
Re-examined. When I went to the police I did not know a burglary had been committed.
EMMA CROOKS . I am the landlady of 79, Oakley Street—Keating has lodged there since 26th December—I let him a room on the second floor—he said he was a dealer in jewellery and fancy goods—on Thursday, 6th May, Keating came in a few minutes before 9 p.m.; he came down alone and went to the front door—a truck drew up outside and two parcels—one was a long parcel and the other a bundle—Keating took the long one and carried it upstairs, the other was carried up by another man whose face I did not see—they came down again; the man and Mrs. Keating went out a few seconds afterwards—I believe Van Boolen was the man who carried them out; I believe it was the same man who carried them in as carried them out; I saw his face on Friday with another Jew; it was the same figure—I have seen Harvey come to the house to see Keating; Harvey came whilst Conquest was there; he asked for Keating, I told him Keating was out but Mrs. Keating was at home; he said he would see her—I would not swear that I have seen Worssam there.
Cross-examined by MR. WOODGATE. Van Boolen came on the Friday with another man head and shoulders taller than himself.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I said at the police-court, "Another man I believe to be Van Boolen carried up the parcel. I saw Van Boolen twice; I believe it was he who carried it up, and "I recognised him when I came to the Court last week," and in reply to the Magistrate, "I believe my husband is the only person I told before to-day that Van Boolen came"—I saw Van Boolen passing along and recognised him as the man carrying up the sack, and mentioned it to my husband—I did not tell Harvey Keating was in custody till he came down with the detectives.
The Jury found the prisoners NOT GUILTY of dealing but GUILTY of receiving. There being no Count for receiving they were subsequently tried before the Recorder, New Court, Friday, for receiving.
MR. SAUNDERS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Roberts.— NOT GUILTY .
BROTHERTON PLEADED GUILTY .— Judgment respited.
627. FRANK MASON (28) to breaking and entering the shop of Albert Amsden and others, and stealing two pairs of boots and other articles; also to assaulting two constables in the execution of their duty, after a conviction of felony in December, 1880, in the name of Thomas Keefe.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
CLEMENT SHEPPERD (City Police Constable). At 9.30 a.m. on 30th April I met the prisoner in Liverpool Street and followed him from there to New Street, a turning leading to Petticoat Lane; he looked round Several times—I followed him to the top, stopped him, and told him I was a police officer, and asked him to tell me what he had got beneath his coat, which was buttoned—he said he would not, it had nothing to do with me—I said I would see what he had got; he said I should not—I said I should take him into custody—we had a struggle; I forced him into a door and on to his back, called for assistance, and took him to the station—this parcel slipped down in the struggle in the street—he said he got in at Aldersgate Street and travelled to Bishopsgate Street station by the Underground Railway, and that he found the parcel in the carriage—I found 1l. 0s. 8d., a silver watch, chain, and keys on him.
Cross-examined. There are marks on the wrapper of the parcel, but nothing to show where it came from—I was in uniform—the keys were latch keys; there was nothing suspicious about them, or the police would have detained them.
JOHN WILLIAM ROSE . I am warehouseman at Messrs. Cook's, 32, St. Paul's Churchyard—this parcel of 31 1/4 yards of satin is our property; I identify it by this private number on it—that mark would have been cleared off if it had been sold—I cannot say when it was last safe or in what part of the building it was.
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in August, 1883, in the name of Allen.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 2nd, 1886.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
From MR. POLAND'S opening it appeared that the prisoner was a fourthdoss fireman in the London Fire Brigade, having charge of a fire escape, that on the occasion in question he was absent from his post when a fire occurred in which the deceased lost his life, and the allegation was that this was caused by the prisoner's culpable neglect of his duty. MR. BESLEY submitted that there was no direct connection between the prisoner's neglect of duty and the cause of death, and MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS concurring in this view, MR. POLAND did not proceed with the case, but offered no evidence, and the prisoner was Acquitted. The following cases were referred to in the argument: Reg. v. Hughes, Dearsley and Bell's Crown Cases, p. 248; and Meg. v. Smith, 11 Cox, p. 210; also to Russell on Crimes, 5th edition, p. 834.
(For other cases tried this day see Essex and Surrey' Cases.)
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, June 2nd, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN Defended.
HENRY ISIDORE SELIM . I am a broker, of 4, Lansdown Place, Brunswick Square—on 6th May, about 4.30 p.m., I went to Mr. Aldhous' place of business, Bishopsgate Street—the prisoner was in the shop, he has an office there upstairs, and he and I were friends—I went up to his room by myself and wrote on a slip of paper, "Return in ten minutes, this is me," and made this sketch and put it half way into his letter box—I then came down and the prisoner went up—I went up to him and he said "I suppose this is some of your doing," pulling the paper from his pocket—I made no reply, I only laughed and went down into Mr. Aldhous' shop—the prisoner came down and said to Mr. Taylor, the manager, "Did you do this?" showing him the paper—he said "No," and turned to me—the prisoner said to me "I suppose this is some of your work"—I sat down and laughed as much as to say that it was my work, and all at once the prisoner took a pistol from his pocket, it went off and the bullet went into my chin—I was taken to the hospital—the bullet has not been found, it is somewhere down here—I have never had words with the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have known him off and on, and saw him once in three mouths; he is a little eccentric—it appeared to me to be an accident.
ROBERT TAYLOR . I am manager to Mr. Aldhous—on 26th May Mr. Selim came into the shop, and while he was there the prisoner came in and they shook hands in a friendly way—they both went upstairs and came down again, and the prisoner came up to me with a piece of paper and asked me if I wrote that nonsense on it—I said "No"—he said, "Who did?"—I nodded towards Mr. Selim, who was sitting there, and the prisoner said, "Did you do this?"—Selim laughed and the prisoner said, "I am not to be trifled with, I have a pistol in my pocket and will shoot you," and took out a pistol, pointed it at Selim, and fired it—I called out and the police came—he showed no anger—they were both friendly together—I have known him some years.
ELI ING (City Policeman 921). On 6th May I received information and went to Mr. Aldhous' shop—I went up to the first floor and saw the prisoner—I asked him if he was the man who shot the man downstairs—he said, "The man has gone to sleep who shot him"—he was searched and a revolver found in his coat pocket—he was very nervous and excitable—he was taken to the station and said that he did not mean to do it—he appeared delirious, and when he was brought to the court he could not be examined as he had a very bad fit and we had to send for a surgeon.
CHARLES EVANS (City Policeman 923). On 6th May I went to Mr. Aldhous' shop, saw the prisoner, and took the revolver from his trousers pocket, four barrels were loaded, and one barrel appeared to have recently been discharged.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ALFRED PATTISON . I live at Reynoldstown Road, Clapton—I have been in the habit of attending insane persons—I attended the prisoner at his home—he was under my supervision for a fortnight in 1883 suffering from acute delirium from drink, and I warned his family that he was not fit to be left alone, they were to be sure and take care of him.
DR. APPLEFORD. I am a surgeon of Finsbury Circus—on 7th May I saw the prisoner at the instigation of the police—he was just recovering from a fit—I should say that he is not responsible for his actions.
----FOREMAN. I practise at 156, Stoke Newington Road—I have attended the prisoner's wife in her confinement and at other times—I have noticed the prisoner's demeanour and condition, and I do not think he is responsible for his actions—he is a dangerous man.
GUILTY, but not being responsible at the time.— To be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
AGNES DAY . I am a carpet-sewer, of 35, Wynyatt Street—on the morning of 15th May I was in Goswell Road—I had had a glass of drink, but was not the worse for it—the prisoner came up and spoke to me and hit me across my nose and knocked me down—I had this basket in my hand containing my purse and 12s.—it was not tied as it is now, it had a strap which was fastened—he took my basket away—I called "Police "and he ran off, leaving my basket—I was stunned, and when I recovered he
was not there—I saw him in custody at the corner and said, "That is the man that took my money."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not fall down drunk when I waft with the policeman—I was detained as being drunk and incapable, but I had been knocked down and stunned—I did not ask you to tie my basket up, nor did you do so.
WILLIAM SMITH (Policeman G 45). On 15th May, about 1 a.m., I heard a woman shouting "Police," went to the corner of Brewer Street, and saw the prosecutrix lying on the pavement and the prisoner just leaving her and saying, "You can b—y well scream"—he turned round, saw me, and ran down Owens Court, where there is no outlet, and I met him and said, "What is the matter?"—he said, "All right, governor"—I asked what he was doing with the woman—he said, "Nothing"—I took him back to the corner where the prosecutrix was standing, bleeding from the nose—she said, "That is the man who has got my money"—I asked her how much he had got—she said, "About 12s."—she was the worse for drink and the lid of her basket was broken off—I turned my light on, got assistance, and took them both to the station—she had her purse in her hand with 1s. 6d. in silver in it—she said she had had a half-sovereign and had changed it—the prisoner said that he did not know anything about it—I asked him how much money he had—he said, "I have got a lot of money"—16s. was found on him and 2 1/2 d. in bronze.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prosecutrix fall in the road drunk, nor did a gentleman pick her up and look in her purse—I locked her up as she was very drunk.
The prisoner in him statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that he met the prosecutrix, who was very drunk, and asked him to the her basket up, that she stooped to find it and fell and he picked her up, and then she asked him for her money and he mid that he had not got it, and he got away from her and went down the turning where he was taken.
Cross-examined. The edge was not round the basket—I never saw the edge, but you said that you had torn the edge off to give to her to tie her basket up—there was no string on her basket.
The Prisoner called
ELIZABETH GARNER . I am the prisoner's affianced wife, and have been living with him at 28, South Crescent Mews, Burton Crescent—he left the Militia on the Saturday before this—on 15th May he sold some rabbits at the market, and he had a good bit of silver, as near as I can tell about 8s. or 9s.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BROMLEY Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
NELLY GRANT . I am barmaid at the Fountain Hotel, Minories, which was being repaired, and the business was carried on in a temporary building—on Saturday night, 8th May, I was the last to leave—I took all the money away with me and locked up the only door, with a padlock, which was on a staple—that was at 12.30—I was taken back shortly
afterwards and found the door broken open, but nothing taken away of tampered with—there were spirits and cigars there.
GEORGE ARMS (City Policeman 715). I was on duty near the Fountain on 9th May, and saw the last witness come out and fasten a padlock on the door—I examined it in her presence and found it securely fastened—about 10 minutes afterwards I went back and found the prisoner in custody.
FRANK BLUNT (Policeman 819). On 9th May, about 12.30 a.m., I was passing the Fountain Hotel, and saw the prisoner come out—he pulled the door to behind him—I examined the padlock and found it broken, and locked on the staple—I followed him into Church Street, told him I was a police officer, and said "What were you doing in the Fountain public-house?"—he said "You have made a mistake, governor, it was not me, I am going home over the water"—I took him back to the house and the sergeant came—I charged the prisoner with breaking in for the purpose of committing a felony—he made no answer—I found three keys on him, but they did not tit the lock.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, June 2nd, 1886.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BAYLISS Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL defended Hogan.
JOHN MARTIN . I keep the King's Head public-house, Cumberland Market—about 8.30 on 5th May, Hogan came in, and I saw my barmaid pick a shilling off the counter in front of Hogan—she put it in the tester and it bent; she then brought it to me, and I examined it and broken in halves in my teeth easily—I or the barmaid gave the pieces back to Hogan—he, who had seen me break it, said, "so help me God, governor, I did not know it was a bad one; you can lock me up if you like"—I said "No,.1 don't care about the job; I gave one six months' imprisonment about six months ago, and I have had enough of it"—I told him he had better be off about his business—he said nothing more, but went away—one of them paid for what they had with good money, I believe it was Pamplin, but I cannot swear which—a third one came in before they went out, and had a drink out of his pint and went away—shortly alter they had gone out a detective came in, and in consequence of what he said I went out into the hampstead Road with him, where we saw the two prisoners with several other men standing outside a beershop; we stood on the other side a little while, they saw us and walked to the Euston Road, about the Temperance Hospital—I pointed out the prisoners to the detective, he ran across in front of a 'bus, and when I got a cross he was handling Pamplin—I said "That is not the one that passed the shilling to me, it was the big one;" that was Hogan—we took them to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. My barn aid served them—I dare say 10 or 12 persons were in the bar at the time, but none at the end of the bar where the prisoners were—I and my barmaid were the only persons serving—Hogan was five minutes in the house I dare say—I think pamplin
paid the good twopence—I should not serve a man with liquor if I noticed he was the worse for drink.
Cross-examined by Pamplin. I swear you were the man in the public-house—no one was near the two men in the bar.
ALMA RODDA . I was barmaid at the King's Head—on 5th May, when the prisoners came in at 8.30, Hogan called for a pint of fourpenny ale, and gave me a shilling; it felt rather smooth—I put it in the tester and bent it, and made a communication to Mr. Martin, giving the coin to him—he broke it in two pieces, which were given back to Hogan—Mr. Martin said to them "You had better be careful"—Hogan said "I know nothing about it, you can lock me up if you like"—Pamplin was standing by Hogan's side when the shilling was paid, and it was he who afterwards paid the twopence—he took it from his pocket—they left, and Mr. Martin afterwards went away.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have been a barmaid two years and a half—this was on a Wednesday—there were several people in the house—the prisoners first went into a compartment were there were some people, and then they came out and into another compartment where nobody else was—they paid in the second compartment.
MART ANN CROWSTHER . I am the wife of Charles Crowther, who keeps the Sultan beerhouse at 150, Hampstead Road—about 9 o'clock on 5th May the two prisoners and another man came in, and Hogan asked for a half a pint of fourpenny ale, and then for one of bitter six—while drawing it four or five men came in on the other side who recognised the prisoners, and they spoke together, asking if they were going to stand—amongst those other men was Plamplin—he called for a pot of fourpenny ale—Hogan paid for the pint of bitter six, I believe, and gave me a shilling, which I mistook for a sixpence and put in the sixpenny bowl by itself, I put threepence-halfpenny change on the counter—Hogan said "I gave you a shilling"—I said "Did you?"—I took the bowl and said "Yes, you did," and put sixpence more on the counter—I don't know if Hogan or the other man with him took it up—Hogan said "Put my beer there, I am going round to the other compartment to my pals there"—I did so; Hogan and the other went round to the other men, and one of them said Hogan was going to drink his beer—they remained a little while, and then the whole party went away—some time after a detective came in, and from what he said I looked in the sixpenny till, and there saw this shilling which I had from Hogan, I believe—I saw it was bad, and gave it to Francis—this is the coin—the prisoners had gone then.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I was the only one serving in the bar—Hogan and the other man were strangers to me—I think Hogan called for the drink, but I am not certain—I had seen Plamplin before—I do not remember who gave me the bad shilling nor who took up the change—Plamplin paid for the other drink with fourpence.
RICHARD MASSEY (Police Sergeant S). Between 8.30 and 9 p.m. on 5th May 1 was in Osnaburgh Street, and in consequence of a communication made to me I went and saw Mr. Martin, who accompanied me to the bottom of Edward Street, Hampstead Road—I saw Plamplin and several men come out of the Sultan, which is about three minutes' walk from Mr. Martin's—I spoke to Mr. Martin, and he crossed the road with me—Plamplin and Hogan had separated from the others—Mr. Martin
said "That is the man that put down the shilling"—I said to Plamplin "I believe you are uttering counterfeit coin again; what have you got about you?"—I searched, but did not find any counterfeit coin on him—Martin spoke to Hogan, who then said to me "Who are you?"—I was in plain clothes—I said I was a police officer, and that bad money had been passed at a public-house, and that Mr. Martin had recognised them—Mr. Martin said "You are the man that passed the shilling"—Hogan said to Plamplin "You b—, you hare done this for me," and he struck him in the face with his fist—farther on Hogan got again within striking distance of Plamplin, and again struck him in the face—Hogan was very excited—I don't think he was drunk—at the station I found on Hogan a shilling in silver, four sixpences, and 13d. in bronze, and on Plamplin 3d. in bronze—after taking the prisoners to the station I went back to the Sultan, where Mrs. Crowther showed me this shilling—she afterwards went to the station and identified the prisoners from several others.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Hogan was a stranger to me—at the police-court I gave Hogan's words, "You b—, you have got me into this"—I have heard that Hickey is Hogan's father, not his stepfather—the prisoner answered to the name of Hogan, but I have found out since that his name is Hickey, I have heard he drives round in a cart with poultry.
Hogan's Statement before the Magistrate. "I plead guilty to being in the lady's house, but I never uttered any coin there at all. I never remember being in the gentleman's house at all."
Plamplin, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, stated that he was waiting for a friend when four or five chaps asked him to come and drink, that he refused, but went with them and got a cigarette, and came out; that he saw Hogan, whom he knew slightly by wording at Spottiswoode's, and was speaking to him when the detective came up.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BAYLISS Prosecuted.
SOLOMON METZGAR . I am a fishmonger at 14, Pimlico Walk, Hoxton—about 11 p.m. on 5th February the prisoner came in for some fish and laid down a florin—I saw it was bad and told him so, and said, "I will break this for you"—he said, "Don't break it, I borrowed it from my friend"—I said, "I will give you change," he walked out—I had told him to lay the fish, which was only worth 1d., down—I gave the florin to the police, this is it—I walked out after him and gave him in charge—the charge was heard before the Magistrate on the following day and the prisoner was discharged.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I sent for a policeman as soon as I saw the money; you did not tell me there was a constable outside, as I got to the door there was a constable there, you had another mate with you who I suppose had all the coins, and he ran away as soon as I called for the policeman.
said to me, "The man at the fishshop wanted to give me into custody for trying to pass a bad 2s. piece"—this was seven or eight yards from the shop—I looked towards the shop and saw Mr. Metzgar coming towards me—Mr. Metzgar said, "That chap has been in my shop and tried to pass a bad florin," which he handed to me, "this is it"—to my knowledge the prisoner was alone, I saw no one else—I found on him two good shillings and 1d. bronze, and I took him to the station—he was charged and said nothing in reply—at the police-court he said some other man had given it him to go in and had run away when he went inside—he was discharged, there being only the single uttering against him—he came to me outside the court, and asked if I would have a drink—I said no, not at his expense—he said, "I have bested the Magistrate to-day, I passed five bad old George IV. half-crowns previous on that day, and my mates wanted me to go in with the 2s. piece which got me stopped"—the name he gave me was that in which he is now indicted—I asked his address, he said it was a common lodging-house or anywhere.
Cross-examined. You first told the inspector you were living two doors away—you also said to me in the waiting-room, "Arthur, are you coining down against me? if you are coming against me I will get something up against you."
By the COURT. I had not known the prisoner before; he was not living at that lodging-house to my knowledge.
THOMAS WEBSTER . I am a barman at the King of Prussia Tavern, Brompton Road, Hoxton—on 24th April the prisoner came in for half a gallon of four ale in a bottle, that came to 1s. 2d. altogether—he tendered what I supposed to be a sovereign, I could tell it was bad by the weight—I said, "Halloa! what have you got here?"—he said, "A sovereign"—I said, "Hold on a bit, I will give you change for it"—I called the governor to the other end of the bar and told, him I had got a job on—the prisoner could hear, he was in front—I lifted up the flap of the bar and walked round and said, "You had better come out of the crowd, I want to talk to you," and I pushed him into the clubroom, which was empty—there was a crowd at the bar, as it was five minutes before closing time—I bolted the door and sent the potman for a policeman, and gave the prisoner into his custody—I gave the coin to the policeman—I said to the prisoner when the policeman came, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "I got it from a man outside; if you will let me go, I will find the man"—I did not do so.
ANTHONY PHELAN (Policeman G 131). I was called into the King of Prussia Tavern, Hoxton, where Webber charged the prisoner with uttering a counterfeit sovereign, which he gave me and I produce—the prisoner said a boy gave it him outside—I searched him in the clubroom, and found four separate shillings and 6d. silver, and 1 1/2 d. bronze, all good—on the way to the station he attempted to pull his coat off and get away, but could not—he then fell down—he gave the name of Frederick Walham, and said, "I can give no address"—afterwards at the station he gave the inspector the name of Arthur Williams.
Cross-examined. I was not choking you, nor did I tear your collar down—you made a rush to get away, and tried to pull your coat off, you never complained that I was hurting you.
the sovereign is pewter gilt in a battery—the difference in weight between a good and bad sovereign is about half.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "The sovereign was given to me by some men I was drinking with to go and get half a gallon of ale."
The prisoner in his defence asserted his innocence.
GUILTY **.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BAYLISS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM CRANE . I am a butcher at 325, Edgware Road—on 22nd April, at 8 o'clock—the prisoner came in for fourpennyworth of meat; a piece was weighed which came to 5d.—he gave me a half-crown, 'which I took up—I said, "What is this?"—he said, "If it isn't a good one break it up, and I will pay you with a good one"—I walked round in front of him and said I should send for a constable and give him in charge—he offered me a good half-crown when I said that—I refused it and sent for a constable, and gave him in charge with the bad half-crown—my charge was the only one against the prisoner, and the Magistrate remanded him till the following Thursday, and discharged him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not tell you it was bad, you appeared to know what it was—you said you would cause me some trouble if I locked you up, because it was a good one.
ALFRED CONDON (Policeman F R 14). The prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Crane with this half-crown—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what Mr. Crane says, where did you get it from?"—he said, "Where I work"—he afterwards said, "I am out of work"—I searched and found on him a good half-crown and 2d. bronze—at the station, in answer to the charge, he said, "I did not know it was bad"—on the following Saturday he said, in the passage adjoining the police-court, that he had bought a pad of watercress at Covent Garden Market, and that finding they were not so good as he thought he had sold them to a ma a for 6s., he having given 4s. 6d. for them, and that that was how he got the half-crown—he was discharged at the police-court, that being the only uttering against him—I and the prosecutor marked the half-crown—I identify it.
HENRY BULLOCK . I am a greengrocer at 22, Quadrant, Kentish Town—on 22nd May, about 1.30 on Saturday afternoon, the prisoner came into my shop for two eggs, which were 1 1/2 d. each—he gave me a florin which felt greasy and light—I concluded it was bad, but gave the prisoner a shilling, a sixpence, and 3d. for it—he put the eggs in his pocket, saying, "I must mind I don't break the eggs," and went out—I let him get as far as the corner of Malton Road, and then followed him to the Wellesley Road; I overtook him and said, "Do you know what you gave me?"—he said, "A two-shilling piece"—I said, "Yes, and a nice one too, isn't it? look at it"—he put it in his mouth—I said, "Have you got any more about you?"—he pulled out a good half-crown from his pocket and gave it to me, and I gave him the florin and another sixpence—I followed him—he spoke to two men at the corner of Ashdown Street; then I think he saw me and went on—as he went down Carlton Street I saw a constable and pointed to him—when the prisoner gave me the
two-shilling piece I saw three more two-shilling pieces in his hand, and a shilling, I think.
Cross-examined. You put the florin in your mouth, I do not know if you bent it, you put it in your pocket—you did not go into a public-house to light a cigarette, you went round a corner to do so before I got to you.
Re-examined. It was not bent like this is when he took it out of his mouth.
JAMES MCINTOSH (Policeman Y 71). On 22nd May Mr. Bullock called my attention to the prisoner, and in consequence of what he said I said, "I shall take you into custody for uttering counterfeit coin to Mr. Bullock; where is the money?"—he said, "If you want to see it take me to the station first, then search me"—I searched him on the spot, and found on him a counterfeit florin, two shillings, and 5d. bronze—he took them out of his waistcoat himself—he said a betting man gave them to him in the Hampstead Road.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This half-crown and florin are counterfeit. The prisoner stated that as to the last ease he did not know the coin was bad, and that as to the first he had lent a man 2s. to back a horse, and that the man afterwards said he had to on 10s., and gave him 5s.
GUILTY .†— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
639. JAMES SCOTT (59) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from James Edwards 2s. 6d., from Henry Wititch 4s., from Mark Barnes 5s., with intent to defraud, and attempting to obtain money from Henry Goffin.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, June 2nd and 3rd, 1886.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
640. HENRY ANDREWS (41)alias ROBERT KING was indicted for feloniously stealing out of a post-letter 20 Russian bank-notes of 100 roubles each, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General. Second Count, receiving the same, well knowing them to be stolen. Third Count, for feloniously stealing the same on the high seas within the jurisdiction of this Court, and Other Counts laying the property in Benjamin Wilhelm Blydenstein.
The ATTORNEY-GENERAL (SIR CHARLES RUSSELL), with MESSRS. COWIE, Q.C., R. S. WRIGHT, and ERNEST BAGGALLAY, Prosecuted; SIR JOHN GORST, Q.C., with MESSRS. B. HOPKINS and L. EDMUNDS, Defended.
JAMES JANES . I am a clerk at Messrs. Blydenstein and Co.'s, foreign bankers, of Threadneedle Street, London—on 18th April last I enclosed in a letter for Berlin 20 Russian banknotes of 100 roubles each—they were enclosed in a grey envelope similar to this one (produced), marked "A"—I then put that envelope, in the presence of another clerk, into this linen envelope "B" with this statement or invoice, and addressed it, "Germany. J. Lowenhertz, Esq., 69, Baronstrausse, Berlin"—before enclosing the notes in the inner envelope I took the numbers of them in this book (produced)—the numbers of these three notes, 160,550, 11,038, and 41,354, are entered here, and also the numbers of these other two notes, 17,469, and 10,332—I put those live notes in the letter sent to Berlin—I put these seals on that envelope—another clerk named Wilhelm
Wennick was present when I made up this letter, and after I had sealed it up I handed it to him to post.
Cross-examined. These letters "R. O.," in pencil, in the corner, were not put on by me—I put into the coloured envelope, besides the 20 notes, some German and Russian coupons—nothing but the coloured envelope and the memorandum were put into the linen envelope—the coloured envelope was not directed, it had merely the name "Blydenstein and Co." printed on the head of it.
By the COURT. The coloured envelope may or may not have been fastened up; it is only used as a cover to keep them together till we put them in the linen envelope, that is sometimes gummed, sometimes not.
WILLIAM WENNICK . I am a clerk in Messrs. Blydenstein's office—on 8th April last I saw the last witness put some rouble notes and this invoice into an envelope similar to this for Berlin; I cannot tell whether it was gummed or not—I saw him fasten the outer envelope and direct it, and he then handed the letter to me, and I took it to the Cornhill Post-office a little before 5 o'clock and registered it there.
Cross-examined. The blue envelope was folded up small like that when it was put in the linen envelope—several coupons were put in the coloured envelope besides the notes; they are all mentioned in this invoice.
GABRIEL DE KAMENSKY . I am assistant engineer at the Russian State Paper Mills at St. Petersburg—I am now staying in this country on business—I am acquainted with the manufacture of Russian rouble noteseach note has a number and two letters—there are never two notes manufactured in the same series with the same number—the series is denoted by two letters on the lefthand side of the number—there are 200,000 notes in each series—a 100 rouble note is worth about 10l. in English money.
ALICE MARY HODGERS . I am a clerk in the Cornhill Post-office—I was on duty on 8th April last, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, attending to the registered letters—this figure "9" on this envelope (B) was made by me, and I made a corresponding entry in the registered letter book, and also wrote down the address—this (produced) is the book—my entry is, "Cornhill, 8th April, J. Lowenhertz, Berlin," and my initials "A. H."—that does not show where the letter came from—after I had made that mark on it I tied it up with other foreign registered letters and put it into a foreign registered letter-bag, and tied it up and sealed it, and then put it into an inland registered bag, and that again was put into a common town bag and sent off to the General Post-office about 5.20 in the afternoon.
GEORGE OSMAN . I am a sorter in the registered-letter department at the General Post-office—I was on duty there on 8th April, about 6 o'clock, and opened a foreign registered letter-bag appearing to come from the Cornhill Post-office—I sorted out the registered letters for Berlin, and handed them to Thomas Kidsley and other sorters—I don't remember the addresses or appearances of these Berlin letters, but should know them again if I was to see them—I don't remember this envelope (B).
THOMAS KIDSLEY . I am a sorter in the registered-letter branch at the General Post-office—on 8th April I was on duty there from 5 till 8 p.m.—it was my duty to make up the separate registered-letter bags for Berlin—there were 62 registered letters for Berlin, one of which came
from Cornhill—I first of all made a list of the original post-offices where the letters were posted, the name of the addressee, and the place of destination, and I then tied them up in bundles with a list enclosed with them I—this, produced, is my entry: "Cornhill. Lowenhertz, Berlin"—there would be 30 letters in a bundle—I tie the letters in bundles and wrap them in brown paper, And place them in the registered-letter bag for Berlin—I seal the brown paper with sealing-wax—it was a bag of this sort I put them in—I cannot identify this as being the one; it had "Berlin" on it—a man named Belcher, in my presence, then tied it round the neck and sealed the knot—I cannot tell whether these cuts on the bag are wearings or cuts—if there had been any on this bag which I dispatched I should have noticed it—I finished with it at 7.49.
Cross-examined. There was string passed under the seal—I should not think that cut could have been there when I made up the bag, I think I should have noticed it—it was not big enough to get a letter out of—I made out two lists, one for each bundle—there were 30 letters in one bundle, and 32 in the other—one list was tied up in one bundle, and the second list was tied with the last two letters—there might be one or two bundles without any list—there might have been three or four bundles, and the lists were put in at haphazard with one or other of the bundles—the lists would be on carbolic paper; one of them was a reproduction of this—nothing was put in the brown paper parcels except those letters and lists; they were not directed outside—there might have been an empty bag for the return mail to this country in the registered-letter bag besides the brown paper parcels—nothing else.
By the COURT. The letters are tied in convenient bundles, if they are bulky they might be tied in two bundles.
CHARLES BELCHER . I am a postman attached to the Eastern Central District Office—on 8th April I helped Kidsley to make up the registered letter bag for Berlin, and in his presence I tied and sealed it—I then took the bag, about 10 minutes to 8, to that part of the foreign department of the General Post-office which is known as the Berlin and Hamburg road—the road is a long table partitioned off, and one of these partitions is allotted to the Berlin and Hamburg road—I there handed it to Elder, a clerk.
By the JURY. It was sealed down with liquid wax, boiled in a pot; it was not brought in contact with fire.
JAMES ELDER . I am a clerk in the foreign branch of the General Postoffice—on the night of 8th April, between 50 and 55 minutes past 7, I was on duty in the Berlin and Hamburg road, and received the registered letter-bag for Berlin from the last witness—I put it in the Berlin general unregistered letter bag, and my assistant tied it up about two yards from me—I don't remember whether it was sealed, it might have been—the bag was similar to this one (produced), marked on the outside like this, "From London for Berlin, vid Belgium, for letters."
GEORGE JAMES CLARKE . I am a sorter in the foreign letter branch of the General Post-office—on 8th April I was on duty close by the last witness, assisting him, and I received from him the general letter bag for Berlin; it was a similar one to this (produced)—I tied and sealed it and passed it to a porter about a yard from me, and he threw it down the shoot, about a yard off, on to the platform below, where the mail carts stand.
JAMES VEITCH . I am a sorter in the foreign branch of the General Post-office—on the evening of 8th April I was on duty at the platform of the General Post-office where the mail carts stand—I was at the place where the mail bags come down the shoot from the foreign branch from 7.15 to a few minutes past 8; I was the dispatching officer—as such it was my duty to tick off the Continental bags as they came down the shoot—I am called a "ticker-off"—I ticked off the Continental bag as they were called out by the porter—a porter above, before sending then down would call out "Berlin," and when they got on the platform the porter there would call out to me, and I look on the stencilling on the bags to see that it corresponds, and that the bag is put in the proper van—I keep a list; this (produced) is the one I made out on 8th April—by that it appears I ticked off three bags for Berlin, two newspapers and one letter.
Cross-examined. There is nothing on this list to distinguish newspaper bags from letter bags, but the bags are stencilled "Newspapers"—if there had been more letter bags I should have noticed it.
DAVID PANTON . I am a sorter in the foreign branch of the General Post-office—on the evening of 8th April I was acting as receiving officer at the Cannon Street Station, receiving the Continental mails from the General Post-office—Cannon Street is the only station at which Continental mails are received, none go from Charing Cross—there were five vans that night, and it was my duty to tick off the bags as they came from the vans—I prepare a list for myself, and I receive the bill made out by the last witness—the numbers 1, 2, and 3 mean first, second, and third vans—there were four vans for the Ostend mails on this night—that does not show which van brought the Berlin bag, the newspapers came first—there were three bags for Berlin—there was nothing in the fourth van for the Ostend boat—I have the yellow paper here on which I ticked the bags off on their arrival; it shows three Berlin bags and two for St. Petersburg; the usual number for Berlin is two newspaper and one letter—a letter bag was received in the fourth van, that came at 8.5—the fifth van brought nothing for the Ostend boat—the Berlin and St. Petersburg bags were about the last to arrive—after I had ticked off the bags I went into the sorting carriage and went in it to Dover—Mr. Bell, the clerk in charge, looks to see the bags are put in the proper vans, and I gave the bill in charge over to him—there were two sorting carriages and one tender, all of which were in communication—they were all distinct from the van where the mail bags were—there were nine sorters and one clerk, ten altogether, engaged in the sorting carriages and tender from Cannon Street; they were all under the control of Mr. Bell—this paper (produced) contains entries made by me on the journey—that accounts for the amount of bags made up between Cannon Street and Dover; four were made up between there—other letters for Berlin would be sorted on the road, from bags which we received from provincial towns—they would not be put in the Berlin bag, but in the Dusseldorf bag; they would not interfere with the Berlin bag made up in London—the signature "Fourcault" on the last yellow paper is that of the officer on board the Belgian boat; it is his acknowledgment of having received the mails from me.
Cross-examined. The vans driving into Cannon Street find us on the left-handed side; the same side as the train—it is on the opposite side of
the platform to that at which the Greenwich and Charing Cross trains start—porters of the South-Eastern Company put the bags into the van, and after that I get in the sorting van and trouble myself no more about what is going on outside.
Re-examined. I get in at the last moment as the train is starting.
By the COURT. I make out the way bill in the sorting van—once in the sorting van I take no more trouble about the bags that are delivered in the train, but give my attention to other things—Mr. Bell superintends the porters as they put the bags into the train.
JOHN BELL . I am a clerk in the Foreign Branch of the General Postoffice—on 8th April last I was clerk in charge of the Continental mails from Cannon Street to Dover—I was at Cannon Street to see the mails put into the train; it was my duty to see that the French and German mails were separated from each other—the Cannon Street portion of the train was first made up; it consisted of the engine, guard's break, two sorting carriages, and a tender, a luggage van, and a first-class carriage—I cannot say how many compartments there were in that—the sorting carriages and the tender were in communication with each other, and all separate from the luggage van—the Ostend mails were put in the luggage van—the Berlin bag would go via Ostend—I went in charge of the mails to Dover—I move about the sorting carriages from one to the other—there were nine sorters there and a porter and myself—when the mails were put in the van I saw the van door closed and bolted; it was fastened by an iron pin let through a staple—this is a correct drawing of the van (produced); it shows the pin going through the staple—as the train was made up the van was in front of the first-class carriage—there was a lamp light in the van in the centre of the roof; it gave an excellent light—the van has double doors—supposing these doors were closed nobody could be seen inside; there was no glass, it is all wood—no one could have left the sorting carriages or tender without my observing it—when I arrived at Dover Pier the mails in my presence were given out by a sorter named Robert Hambley to the man who takes charge of them from the sorting carriage to the Ostend boat—he is assisted by sailors from the boat, but he is responsible for them—I saw that done—I had finished then.
Cross-examined. The mails at Dover wore brought out at the opposite door to that by which they were taken in, the near side; next the packet—the tender is where the mails are stacked, where there is no sorting—it communicates with the sorting carriages by an internal door—each sorting carriage has two doors—there would be six doors in the carriages and six windows, through which a sorter could put his head, but it is never done—the doors are never opened.
Re-examined. A sorter has a good deal to do on the journey—I did not see any of them look out or open the doors.
By the COURT. It was my duty to see the things all put properly in the van and the van fastened—before the bags are put in I look at the doors, and gave them both a kick—there is a bolt on one of the doors, there are not two bolts—the doors open outwards.
By MR. COWIE. This plan (produced) represents the inside of the van—this was only a temporary arrangement—I put the mails in at the off fide door, and take them out at the near side—I examined the doors to see that they were secure—I can't say whether there is anything to secure the doors inside—the train is shunted at Cannon Street till the Charing
Cross portion comes in, and then that is attached—I put the letters in on the off side, and I got in on the near side—there was no window at all on the off side, except one in the tender—there are three windows on the near side—the length of the sorting carriages and tender is 99 feet.
THOMAS READER . I was one of the guards in charge of the Cannon Street portion of the Continental train on the night of 8th April—I saw the mails loading by the staff, and saw part of the mails for the Ostend boat put in a van; it was my duty when they were loaded to see that it was properly fastened on the outside—the off side was fastened by a pinner dropped in a slot, it was fastened on the near side in the same way—immediately behind the van was a first-class carriage, that was the only passenger carriage on the Cannon Street part of the train—we left Cannon Street at 8.14, and arrived at Dover Town at 9.57, we stayed there a minute and arrived at the Admiralty Pier about 10.1—the train at Chislehurst bank going up the incline would slacken about five or six minutes, I don't book the time, the head guard does that—it was a dark night, there were four compartments in the first-class carriage—I did not notice how many passengers there were.
Cross-examined. I was in charge of the Cannon Street part of the train till the Charing Cross part came, and then I became under-guard for the remainder of the journey—the near side door was fastened on the outside, I could not say about the inside, it opens outwards—it was not my duty to see that the van was got ready for the mail bags—I have to see that the couplings are right—when the Charing Cross part of the train comes in, the Cannon Street portion draws ahead on to the bridge to back on to Charing Cross part—I do not go on to the bridge with it, I stop on the platform, it goes on the bridge by itself, no guard with it, there are pointsmen at the signal box, no one on the bridge, it takes about a minute to go out and come back again—the train goes about 30 miles as hour at its slackest speed—there is a tunnel just before you get to Chisle-hurst and one seven or eight minutes past Chislehurst, and another long one called Polehill.
By the COURT. It is my duty to inspect the doors about 20 minutes before starting—we load on the off side, and when the train comes back from the bridge we look along the near side—we do not as a rule consider ourselves bound to see whether the doors are bolted on the inside, we do sometimes—there is a long bolt which fastens the inside, we have not always time to put the bolt in—we guards exchange signals between each other as we leave the station, and also at Tunbridge Junction—we continually look out on each side of the train as we go along, we have observatory windows on each side so that we can see right along the carriages on a clear day, but we cannot see right along on a dark night.
FRANCIS BROOM . I am an overseer in the Eastern Central District Post-office, and employed there to prepare plans—I was directed to make a drawing of the luggage van No. 222 at Cannon Street—I prepared the plan marked F, that shows the van 222, and the first-class carriage 1875 the first-class carriage has a continuous footboard on both sides, and at the ends of the carriages there are projecting handles, they are called "accommodation" handles—on the van 222, I don't know which is the off side and the near side as it travelled—supposing a person came along the footboard on the off side the door of the van which would open first would be the one coming towards the carriages, but if he went on the other side
the door first to open would be the one farthest from him—this (produced) is a plan of mine showing how they open—one leaf would be bolted inside, the other would be capable of being opened—there is a continuous bolt with two claws, one at the top and one at the lower portion, which go the whole length of the door; that would fix one door, the other could be opened from the outside—you could fasten the door on the inside so that nobody from the outside could get in—this plan represents the distance from the end of the footboard of the passenger carriage to the end of the footboard of the van an three feet, but I have not had an opportunity of getting the exact measurement; there is a hand-loop at each end of the footboard.
Cross-examined. The first-class carriage has no hand-rail, you can reach the handle of the door from one door to another, the distance would be about seven feet, you would have to walk along the footboard that distance without anything to hold by—I should not like to do that with the train going forty or fifty miles an hour, the breadth of the footboard is nine inches—the luggage van has a continuous footboard on both sides—when one leaf is bolted inside, the other leaf opens outwards—if a man was on the footboard and opened that door it would knock him off on to the rails—he would risk his life, if the door was properly secured inside.
Re-examined. That is, if the door was not bolted on the inside, if that was secure the half of the door farther away would remain secure.
EDWIN DENBY . I am foreman in the carriage department of the South Eastern Railway Company—the Company have only one luggage van, number 222, and one carriage numbered 1875—I should say it would be quite easy for a person standing astride from the footboard of the passenger carriage to reach across to the luggage van.
Cross-examined. I have never tried the experiment when the train was going thirty miles an hour, I should consider that dangerous; it could be done, I have done it frequently when trains are moving at slow speed.
WILLIAM BUNTING . I am a guard in the employ of the South Eastern Railway Company—on the night of 8th April I was head guard of the Continental mail train—we started at 8.5 from Charing Cross, and at Cannon Street that portion of the train backed on to us at 8.10, we took no mails from Charing Cross—when the Cannon Street portion joined us I took the front break next to the engine, and the under guard took my van that I brought from Charing Cross—we do not lock the doors of the carriages before we start—I put in my pocket-book the times of the journey, from which I afterwards make a report; this is my book and report, showing the times we pass the principal stations—we passed Chislehurst at 8.84 and arrived at Dover town at 9.67, and the pier at 10.1.
Cross-examined. It is my duty to have the care of the train, we have windows on each side from which we look, and we guards signal to each other on the journey—on this particular night I did not perceive anything wrong in the train going to Dover—I have never gone along outside the train when in rapid motion, it would be almost impossible to reach from one carriage door to another when travelling thirty miles an hour; if the windows were down between the two handles I could do it, not without—if going at an excessive speed, of course I should not like to do it—you might reach from one handle, to the other by a sudden jump,
but you could not catch hold of both handles at the same time—if a man got the van door open it would not be easy to shut it again, not for one man, two men could shut it easier of course—if both flaps of the door were unbolted inside he could get it open from the outside—we should not travel at much speed until we got to Chislehurst, and we go slow again between Chelsfield and Elstree, that is a steep incline, after that we run very hard.
By the COURT. In getting into Dover we do not slacken speed until after we come through the Shakespeare tunnel—we are fitted with the vacuum break and can pull up in a very short distance, we reduce speed before we get on to the viaduct—we go very slow from the town to the pier, it only takes a minute or two, it is to be done in a minute unless the metals are greasy or wet—a shunter is supposed to go out with the train from Cannon Street to the bridge and to bring it back, and there is the under guard to look to it—the Ostend bag is put on at my portion, it is left on the platform till my portion comes in—the train comes to a standstill on the bridge, but it would not be there a minute; we are only allowed three minutes from the time we get into the station till we leave—it would not take a man long to get into the luggage van, unless one of the bags had been thrown up against the doors, if it was he could not get in—the near side in would be the off side when we left Cannon Street—of course the shunters could not be on both sides of the train at the same time.
WALTER CHARLES ARTHUR LONGLEY . I am a ticket collector on the South-Eastern Railway at Cannon Street—on 8th April I collected the tickets from the Continental night mail which leaves at 8.10—the Cannon Street tickets are taken there and the Charing Cross tickets at Charing Cross, we take them from the passengers before the train starts; the train does not stop till it gets to Dover—there were nine passengers from Cannot Street that night, they were not all first-class—there was one second-class ticket, and that passenger would go into the Charing Cross portion; there would be eight first-class passengers from Cannon Street—I could not say how many were in one carriage.
Cross-examined. Three of them were season-tickets, the other five were foreign coupons—I don't know how far the coupons went, we take off the coupon from London to Dover, leaving the rest; those tickets would be beyond Dover.
ROBERT HAMBLEY . I am a sorter in the foreign branch of the General Post-office—on the night of 8th April I accompanied the Continental mail from Gannon Street to Dover—when we arrived at Dover Pier I left our sorting carriage and went into the luggage van which contained the Ostend Mail—I opened the off side of the van, the platform side—I go in to examine the bags before they are put out of the carriage into the truck, to see if they are all for the Ostend packet, merely to see the stencilling on the outside—they are put out on the near side; I saw them put out—they are put into trolleys and wheeled down to the boat; that is a distance of 300 or 400 yards—the Ostend boat is some distance beyond the Calais boat—Mr. Panton would be in the sorting carriage—it was not my duty to examine the seals on the bags or to make any farther examination.
Cross-examined. I did not see the bags put in at Cannon Street, I was in the sorting carriage doing duty there—I got in at the same side of
the carriage as the hags bad been put in—they did not appear to me to have been disturbed in any way on the journey—I did not notice anything wrong with any bags as I took them out—I could not say now how many bags there were in the van—there were four for Ostend and two for Dover in the sorting carriage—I could not say in what part of the van the Berlin letter-bag was—I got in at the off side—I could not say whether both doors were bolted on the near side—there is a bolt inside which bolts both doors; if that bolt is shut the door could not be opened from the outside—I could not say whether the near side dour was bolted or not.
By the COURT. I got in at the off side, the bags were put out on the near side; I got out on the near side after the bags were out—the door was opened from the outside, I had nothing to do with that—I did not go into the van before it left Cannon Street—I could not say whether anything had been disturbed or not, the bags appeared to be in the usual state—they are thrown in; that is, they are not packed one upon the other, they are just thrown in and the door is shut; there is no particular mode of stowing them unless they are large bags, then they are stowed one on the other—there were some large bags that night—the Berlin bag was not a very large one—some very large bags would weigh 70 or 80 pounds—I could not say whether any were stowed in the van that night, or whether they were stowed opposite the door—I could not say the position of any particular bag.
GUSTAV ADOLPH FOURCAULT . I am a lieutenant in the Belgian Navy—on the night of 8th April I was doing duty in the Louise Marie steamer from Dover to Ostend; I was the officer in charge of the mails—this is my signature appended to this list of the bags of mails which were put on board, arriving from London and going to Ostend—there were 62 altogether, but only three for Berlin—they were put on board at 10.15, and placed in the mail room, which is under the second-class cabin; that is below deck, and practically part of the hold; it is all railed round so as to make a room—it is entered from the second-class cabin by hatches in the floor—I did not superintend placing them there that night, Villain did that—I saw the hatches unlocked for putting the mails into the room, I did not see them locked afterwards—we steamed from the pier immediately the mails were put on board—there is no other way into the room except through the two hatches in the second-class cabin—we arrived at Ostend about 3 o'clock—the hatches were then unlocked, and the mails were carried ashore to the station and put in the train which was waiting for them—this is a plan of the cabin; there is on hatchway on each side of the cabin 2 1/2 feet square—any one standing on the bridge could see down the companion into the second-class cabin—the captain or I were on the bridge all the voyage—a fire was kept up in the cabin, and a person was told off to see that it was burning; he would go down sight or ten times for that purpose—there is a ladies' cabin adjoining the second-class, and there is a stewardess; she was there that night, though there were no lady passengers.
Cross-examined. From the time we took these mails on board I saw nothing of them till 3 o'clock next morning—the companion which goes to the second-class cabin goes down from the deck towards the bows, and the hatches are on each side of it in the corner of the recesses—standing on the bridge you cannot see the hatches, though you can see into the
cabin—the hatches lift off, they are not hinged, there is a hasp and a lock—there was no tarpaulin or carpet or anything over them—the height between decks is between four and five feet—a man getting into the mail room could not lie there snug and comfortable, when the mails were in there there would be very little room left—the mail room is not quite the whole breadth of the vessel as there is a grating to prevent the bags going against the side; it reaches from one side to the other of the second-class cabin; it is perhaps 15 feet from stem to stern—62 bags were put in, it might hold 100 bags—we only carry one stewardess, she has to attend to the first-class as well as the second; the first-class saloon is at the stern, and the second at the bows; it is her duty to go from the first-class to the second; there were no first-class ladies there that night—there is an open stove in the middle of the second-class cabin, and looking into that cabin from the bridge you look upon the stove—it was a fine night, and we had a calm passage.
Re-examined. There was no light in the mail room—the stewardess' sleeping quarters are in the second-class cabin, and she would remain there, as there were no lady first-class passengers.
By the COURT. There is some one in the mail room to carry the bags from the hatches—there were 10 second-class passengers.
JOHN BELL (Re-examined by the COURT). I saw the bags put into the van at Cannon Street myself, they were placed on the right and left, so that the middle of the luggage van would be clear—the newspaper bags would be right and left, because they came down first, and the letter bags were afterwards placed right and left, and one or two letter-bags were thrown in at the last moment—the bags are placed by porters first on one side and then on the other to balance the van—they are carried in by the porters, not thrown in; but at the last moment one or two were thrown in—I do not think the vans came up late that night, if I had the way bill I could tell—about 50 bags would be carried in, and the rest thrown in—there were 62, including newspapers—I cannot say whether the Berlin bags were thrown in or carried in, and I don't think anybody can say.
ARTOIS FRAUTINOUL . I am chief of the marine engineering department where the plans are made—I made this plan showing the secondclass cabin of the Louise Marie, and the hatches by which the mail room is entered—it is correct—one of my men measured the mail room, and we have compared it with the plan in the office which I made—the dimensions of the mail room are 16 or 18 feet long by 12 feet broad.
Cross-examined. The depth is a little over four feet.
HIPPOLYTE EDWARD VILLAIN . I am a carpenter belonging to the Louise Marie—I was on board on the evening of 8th April when the mails for Ostend came on board—I saw them placed in the mail room under the second-class cabin—I opened the hatches which had previously been locked—before the mails were put in I went down with a light to see that nobody Was there; nobody was there—a sailor went down to receive the mails, I stood by the hatch the whole time they were being put in, and counted them, and after they were all there I went down again and examined them—they were all right—the sailor came out as soon as the last bag was in—I shut the hatches and locked them—there is a brass plate over the lock to keep dust from the keyhole—when we got to Ostend I took out the mails—the cover over the lock was in the same trim as
I had left it—I moved it aside with a screwdriver—the lock was in good condition—I unlocked it—I kept the keys during the voyage.
Cross-examined. I could nut bring the keys here because the ship could not sail without them—the hatches are not taken off the ship in the daytime, not till all the mails are on board; and as soon as the last bag is down the hatches are closed—a man goes down to receive them—I went down half an hour before the boat sailed to see that everything was in order in the mail room—I first mentioned that on Saturday—I was not asked it before—George, the sailor that went down to receive the bags, is not here—no one went down into the mail room that night except George—the bags are thrown down the hatches to him—when we have many bags we open both hatches—only the hatch on the port side was opened on this night—the one on the other side was looked, and had not been opened since two journeys before—I examined that lock every journey—I did not say at the Mansion House that after the mails had been put in I locked the hatches, because I was not asked—nor was I asked if there were two keys, one for each hatch—I did not say there were two keys that locked both hatches, there is only one—it is my signature to the deposition—there is room for 150, 160, or 200 bags in the mail-room if necessary—I take them by the neck of the bag and look at the seal—as I hand them up I look at them again—I look at them as they enter and as they leave—I am able to say that all the bags were right when they came on board, I looked at the seal—there was a ladder from the second-class cabin down into the mail room by which I could get down the batches—I did not go near the hatches of the mail room from the time they were locked up till the boat arrived at Ostend.
Re-examined. I saw George come up from the mail room, he was the last person who left the mail room before I looked the hatch.
EDWARD BENS . I was ticket collector on the Louise Marie on the night of 8th April—there were 10 second-class and two first-class passengers on board—I went into the second-class cabin three or four times during the voyage and saw nothing unusual going on—the passengers were not moving about—I did not go in or out the first part of the voyage—there were six or eight down there.
Cross-examined. All of them were lying in the bunks asleep—I had to look at all their tickets, some of them had taken tickets at Dover from Friend's Company, four, I think; they were in the second-class cabin when I went down—the first part of the passage two or three walked up-stairs on deck, and afterwards they went down in the cabin and lay on the cushions.
By the COURT. I did not count them—I saw a lot of people lying down.
EMMA WORMLIGHTER . I was stewardess in the second-class cabin of the Louise Marie on the night of 8th April, when she crossed from Dover to Ostend—sometimes I go in there before the mails are put in the mail room, and sometimes afterwards—on this evening I went down after the mails were put in—there were no lady passengers that evening—you go through the gentlemen's saloon into the ladies'—I never left the saloon all the evening, I went to the door of the ladies' saloon and looked in several times, but never passed through the gentlemen's saloon—I laid down, not directly we left Dover, but a little later—there were passengers in the saloon; they were lying down and all
quiet—the bunks are merely sofas on which passengers lie down—as far as I saw, looking into the cabin occasionally, there was nothing to attract my attention—I did not notice anything wrong, or anybody apparently dealing with the hatches.
Cross-examined. There are sofas, and behind them, a little higher up, and with a sort of framework round, are the bunks—gentlemen could lie down there and sleep if they had not mal de mer—it was a quiet night; nobody was seasick, and I had nothing to do—I slept a good part of the passage that night—there are two lights in the second-class saloon fastened to brackets on the bulkheads, one on each side of the folding doors that lead into the ladies, cabin—they are common ship candles.
Re-examined. There were eight or ten passengers in the second class cabin, I think—I was up and down two or three times during the night; it was very quiet.
JOSEPH DEKNNYT . I was cabin boy attending to the second-class saloon on board the Louise Marle—on 8th April I was on board and went in and out of the second-class cabin attending to the lights and fires, and seeing if anybody was ill; it was a fine night—there were sometimes six and sometimes five passengers down there, they were in and out during the night; two only laid down, none were sleeping—my attention was not attracted by anything being done to the hatches during the whole evening; all was right as far as I knew—I went down ten or twelve times during the passage to see to the fires and lights.
Cross-examined. My duty first of all is to look at fires and lights—I carry basins and walk round the first and second class cabins, and passengers ask me for anything they want—I never sleep on the voyage—I come down sometimes for the fires, sometimes for the lights, sometimes for the passengers—the hatches are not in a very dark corner of the cabin; they are not very far away from the lights, which are on each side of the doors going into the ladies' cabin—only two people were lying down, and they were not sleeping, I saw them winking at times; they did not speak to me—the others were walking up and down, sometimes in the cabin and sometimes on deck—it was fine weather all night to walk—I never get a chance to sleep on the voyage.
JULES DE WERT . I am a guard on the railway at Ostend, and live at Ostend—I was guard of the train leaving Ostend for Brussels at 3.47 a.m. on 9th April, and containing the German mails—I saw the mails put into the van, and then four leaden seals were fixed on the door of that van by the Customs House officer, and four by the railway authorities—I cannot say how many passengers there were—my van was next to the engine at the head of the train; my van has projecting windows, so that I can see down the length of the train on both sides—there are mirrors in the van, so that I can see what is outside the train without putting my head out of window—when the train left Ostend it was daybreak—another guard was at the other end of the train; his van had mirrors too—it was not possible for any one to get into the van where the mails were without any one seeing it—at any place where the train stopped it was our duty to examine the leaden seals; I did so, and found them intact—I am responsible for the state of the mail bags during the journey.
Cross-examined. The seals were put on two minutes before the train started from Ostend—the van had four doors; two seals were put on each
door—between Ostend and Brussels the train stopped at Bruges and Ghent; I examined the seals at each place—I was only asked to give evidence four days ago—I remember that I examined all the four doors at each of the places the train stopped at—I finished my service at Brussels, and there handed over the charge of the sealed waggon to a man who had the service between Brussels and Vervier—I don't know his same.
FRANCOIS JANASSENS . I am a Customs House officer at Ostend, of the rank of brigadier—I was on duty on the early morning of 9th April at the station—I saw some parcels put in the train, but did not pay any attention to them—my sub-brigadier sealed the doors of the van after the mails were put in—a piece of string is doubled and fixed to two rings, pulled underneath, and then the two ends are passed through the top of the lead, a knot in made, and the lead is pulled through that knot downwards; then the ends of the string are again drawn up, and the lead is punched and the string fixed by that to the door—a powerful instrument is used to punch the lead, you cannot seal without it—the door of the van would first be opened after leaving Ostend at Vervier, by a brigadier or sub-brigadier, who would cut off the leaden seals, I believe—the seals are put on at Ostend and removed at Vervier by a Customs House official.
Cross-examined. A Belgian official would cut them off—the pincers for lead make the impression.
Friday, June 4th.
GUSTAV ADOLPH FOURCAULT (Re-examined.) The prisoner did not belong to the Louise Marie—the Louise Marie is a Government vessel belonging to the Belgian Government, and employed in the service of the Belgian Government—I am a lieutenant in the Belgian navy—the Louise Marie carries no cargo, only passengers and mail—the Government gets the profits.
ROCH BEHGT (Interpreted). On 9th April I was guard of the mail train from Ostend towards Brussels, leaving Ostend at 3.47 a.m.—my van was about this Court's length from the van containing the mails; there was a van between them—between Ostend and Brussels I am responsible for the bags in the van, for which I had signed—I superintend watching over the van—I was at the end, at the right-hand side of the van—I was constantly looking at it during the journey to see whether anything happened—there was a window in the van—I could see that van through my window—if any one had entered during the journey I should have seen him.
Cross-examined. There were three carriages between my van and the post-van—the doors of the post-van were sealed with leaden seals affixed by Custom House officers—I was compelled to look after the mails, as I had signed for them—it could be seen if any one got in—I have never known the vans that are sealed broken into—I was first asked to give this evidence last Saturday.
CHARLE VAN HOORBEKE (Interpreted). On 9th April I was breaksman on the train from Ostend to Brussels leaving Ostend at 3.47 a.m.—during the journey I was looking at the train to see it was all right—the windows of my van project so that I can see along the train—I was looking out on the left side.
Cross-examined. I looked on the other side from the last witness—the post-van was sealed; no one can get in unless they break the seals—I
look out in case anybody should try to get in—I was asked to give this evidence last Saturday.
DESIRE SCHOONVAERT (Interpreted). I was chief guard of the mail train on 9th April leaving Ostend at 3.47 and passing from Brussels to Vervier—I took charge of the train at Brussels at 5 a.m.—I saw the train arrive at Brussels—the mail-van for Berlin was not opened at Brussels; the leaden seals were on it, and I verified that fact—the seals are similar to this one (produced)—I proceeded with the train as for as Vervier—I examined the seals three times during the journey, at each place we stopped at, and also at Vervier, I was present—I travelled in the same van as Victor Goffe—the mail-van for Berlin was three carriages off my van—my carriage has projecting windows, and also mirrors, for the purpose of examining the train on the journey—during the journey I first look at the signals, and then from time to time watch the train through the mirror to see that nothing happens on the road—I was looking out on the right-hand side, and sometimes on the left—Goffe had some writing to do, and when he had finished he went to the left-hand side.
Cross-examined. The train is due at Brussels at 5.43, but on this day it did not arrive till 5.50—the mail-van is taken outside the station and taken on to another siding; it does not go outside the station—when the train arrives from Ostend another one is made up for Vervier—we are responsible for anything that happens on the journey—it is our duty to watch constantly as the train goes along—I had been spoken to about giving evidence a month ago, but I only came to London on Tuesday last.
Re-examined. During the shunting from one rail to another the mailcarriage is watched by the second chief of the station.
By the COURT. Two trains arrive at Brussels at the same time, one from Calais and one from Ostend, and they are then made up into one train for Vervier—on the leaden seal of the company is "chemin de fer" "railway of the State of Belgium"—I think it is a little smaller than the one (produced), but the same shape, and fastened in the same manner by the same instrument—before it is pressed with the instrument for sealing it would be almost the same as this—when I got to Vervier I saw both the Custom House seals and the railway seals, and everything was intact—it would be impossible to get in the mail-van without cutting or breaking the seals.
HENRI JOSEPH LE PRANCE (Interpreted). I am sub-brigadier of the Custom House at Vervier, in Belgium—I was on duty at Vervier Station on 9th April, on the arrival of the mail train from Ostend at 8.36 a.m.—my duty was to see that the leads on arrival were intact; I examined them and found they were intact.
LEONHARDT MENTZ (Interpreted). I am Secretary in the German Postoffice at Cologne—it is my duty to attend at Vervier, and to make the journey between Vervier and Cologne, which I did on 9th April when the mail train arrived from Ostend—the Ostend van at Vervier was opened in my presence, and the bags were taken out from the van and put into our German post-office—it is my duty to superintend this removal—the two vans from which the mails are moved are about 10 foot apart—I stand between the luggage-van and the post-van and see the mails removed, and I then look in the Ostend van to see that all is removed—I then travelled with the train to Cologne in the van where the Berlin bags
and other bags were—it is a sorting-carriage; six others traveled in there with me—I am in charge to Cologne—it would be impossible for any one to tamper with those bags on the journey.
Cross-examined. There are two mail vans on the Vervier-Cologne train, but they are coupled together so that they cannot collide together—the officials can get from one carriage to another by going outside along the footboard; we do that twice, once at Aix la Chapelle and at Duren—there are six assistants in one van and five in the other—the Berlin bag is not opened between Vervier and Cologne, it is put in the middle of the van towards the side—there were three Berlin bags on this day; we do not know what they contain, they are locked up—the train arrived at Cologne at 11.16—the return mail train to London starts from Cologne at 10.50 p.m.; I don't know what time it gets to Ostend—the mail train from Berlin to London arrives at Cologne at ten minutes to eight, and leaves at 1.13 p.m.
ANTOINE SCHLOSSER (Interpreted). I am post secretary of the Cologne station post-office—I was on duty there on 9th April when the mail train, arrived there at 11.20, and I superintended the unloading of the mail bags from the train and the transfer of them to the post-office carriage No. 8, from Cologne to Hanover and Berlin—that train left Cologne at noon—it was impossible for any one to have access to the mail bags during the transfer without my seeing it—when put in Post-office No. 8 they were in the same condition as when taken out of the other post-office.
Cross-examined. They are taken straight across from one van to the other by two subaltern officers, and they remain in No. 8 till the train starts—several officers were in the van, I don't know how many—they take the bags into their possession and sort the letters, but not the bag to Berlin, that remains closed to Hanover.
JOHANNES SCHMELTZ (Interpreted). I am senior post assistant in the railway Post-office No. 8 to Hanover—on 9th April I was on duty in the train which left at noon for Hanover, and received the mails which came from Vervier, among which were the mails for Berlin and St. Petersburg—they were under my personal supervision the whole journey to Hanover—it was impossible for any one to tamper with them without my seeing them—there were five persons in the carriage.
AUGUSTE JOSEPH LIEFELD (Interpreted). I am assistant in the Postoffice at Berlin—on the evening of 9th April I was in the travelling railway office in the train from Ostend to Berlin, and I was in the office between Hanover and Berlin—the letter bag for Berlin was opened in my presence by Schonock, and inside the letter bag was the registered letter bag—Schonock cut the string of the registered letter bag and handed it to me, and I emptied the contents of it on to the table—there was loose paper and envelopes which had either been out or torn—this envelope (B) was there, it was empty; I noticed the name of Blyderstein on it—this bag (produced) is the same bag, the seal on it is broken and black; that is not usual—the bag was cut then just as it is now—I then put the papers back into the registered letter bag again and put that into the large bag—there was no list of registered letters in the bag—I then sent the bag on to Berlin and sent a telegram from Standau to Berlin.
Cross-examined. I think from the appearance of the seal that it has been burnt.
Re-examined. I believe the old sealing wax had been used again to affix it to the remnant of it.
JULLIUS AUGUSTE SCHONOCK (Interpreted). I am a post packer—on 9th April I cut open this bag in the presence of Schmeltz—I mean by cutting it that I cut the string round it—I did not make those holes in it—I helped to put the papers back in this bag, and then it was tied with string and put into a sack, and that was tied up and sent to the Berlin Central Post-office.
HENRAM OTTO KOEPCHEN . I am post inspector of the Imperial German Post-office at Berlin, and I act as surveyor of the travelling post-offices at Berlin—No. 1 belongs to my district—on 10th April I went to the office of the department in Berlin, having previously in the evening received a telegram and report of a mail robbery—I found this sack at the office and took out of this sack this red one, and the string of that was cut in my presence and I examined the contents of the red bag—in it I found wrappers and envelopes without contents, and some patterns—there ought to have been 62 registered letters in the bag, and I found traces of four patterns and the parts of 14 letters—I found the bill of the total number of letters sent, but not the list to which the letters were addressed—this blue envelope (A) I found in the bag, broken open as it is now—I also found this envelope (B) in the sack, it was broken as it is now—I also found this invoice (produced); I noticed the name of Blydenstein on the envelope and on the invoice—I placed the small envelope and the invoice in the larger envelope and took them to Mr. Lowenhertz, 69, Baronstrausse—I found no Russian rouble-notes in the bag—Mr. Lowenhertz's clerk afterwards gave me back this envelope, and subsequently it was sent back to London; it was made up in my premises.
ALEXANDER BEHNACK . I am principal clerk to Mr. Lowenhertz, at Berlin—I saw this envelope (A) and this invoice (C) on 10th April; it is addressed to our firm, and contains a reference to some rouble notes—we have never received the Russian rouble notes contained in that invoice—all letters and moneys for the firm go through my hands.
WILLIAM SLEE BROWN . I am assistant in the Registry of the Secretary's office, London—these bags came to my hands some time on 13th April, in a registered packet—I opened them and examined this outer sack—I had heard of the robbery—I noticed this rough sewing on the side, it is about 12 inches or more in length.
ALFRED MARSH . I am in the postal store department of the General Post-office—I am storeman—the twine supplied to the General Post-office is mostly supplied to us by Messrs. Buckingham, of Broad street, with the exception of some we have from Liverpool and Holloway Gaols—the re-sewing on this sack is not done with any of our string.
By the COURT. It appears to have been done by some one who is not accustomed to sewing up bags—the string we keep in store is harder than that—our bags are chiefly made at the prisons, sometimes they are made by contract—we do not supply our materials to the prisons.
By the JURY. I should say the re-sewing is not done like a tailor, there is not the least uniformity in the stitching, it appears to have been done in a hurry.
JOHN BUCKINGHAM . My firm is Buckingham Brothers, of Broad Street, Bloomsbury, rope and twine manufacturers—we supply the General Post-office—this twine in the re-sewing is not supplied to the General
Post-office; it is what they call Bridport twine, it is used in sailmaking.
Cross-examined. I said at the Mansion House "I think it is Bridport string, I cannot say for certain that it is English string; they imitate us so abroad"—I say that now.
HENRY GEORGE WEBB . I am overseer of the bag-room at the General Post-office—I produce a sample of the thread used in the Post-office—I have seen the string with which this bag is sewn up, it is not string used by us.
FERDINAND GOLDSMITH . I am in the office of Blydenster and Co., 55 and 56, Threadneedle Street—on Monday, 12th April, about 3.30 p.m., the prisoner came into our office to speak to the cashier; I was standing next to him—he asked the rate of exchange for Russian rouble notes; the cashier gave him the rate of exchange—Messrs. Blydenstein buy and sell Russian notes at the counter—the prisoner handed these three notes to the cashier, numbers 160,550, 41,354, and 11,038—I compared those numbers with the numbers in my list of those sent in the registered letter, and they corresponded—I then sent for a policeman and went with the prisoner into a back room—the policeman came, and I then asked the prisoner to go into a back room and asked him how he got the notes, as they belonged to a parcel of notes sent by us to Berlin, and which were stolen—his answer was "I just got them a few minutes ago from a friend of mine who owed me the money for a betting transaction"—I asked him "Could you find your friend?" and his answer was "Yes, I just left him at a public-house at the corner of Leadenhall Street, where he paid me the money"—I called Sergeant Outram, who spoke to the prisoner in my presence, but it was too far off for me to hear.
THOMAS FREDERICK ROPER . I am cashier at Cook and Son's, tourist agents, Ludgate Circus—these two 100-rouble notes, numbered 17469 and 10332, were changed by me on Saturday, 10th April, about 2.50 p.m.—we close at 3 o'clock on Saturdays, and this was the last transaction—I gave 19l. 3s. 4d. for them—on Monday I received a notice of the notes having been stolen.
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Detective Sergeant). On Monday, 12th April, I went to Messrs. Blydenstein's office shortly after 4 p.m.—I saw the prisoner and Mr. Goldsmith in a room there—I received these three 100-rouble notes (produced) from Mr. Goldsmith; I then said to the prisoner "I am a detective officer, you have offered these notes for change; where did you get them from?"—he said "I do not see why I should answer that question"—I said "They have been stolen, that is the reason why I ask you how you became possessed of them"—he made no answer—I said "Will you give me your name and address?"—he said "No, I shall not do that until I have seen my solicitor"—he then said "I received them from a gentleman who I met accidentally in the City to-day, he owed me a debt of 30l., and he gave me these notes"—I said "Do you know the gentleman's name?"—he said "Mr. Rosseau"—I said "Do you know where he lives?"—he said "No, I lent him the money in Paris about four months ago, and I expect to meet him in a public-house on the left-hand side of Leadenhall Street"—he did not say at what time—Detective Rouse and I entered a four-wheeled cab, and went to Leadenhall Street with the prisoner—on the way I said to him "Are you an Englishman?"—he said "Yes, but I speak French"—on arriving in
Leadenhall Street, and before arriving at the public-house, he pointed to a public-house and said "That is where I was to meet him"—we found the public-house closed in consequence of a funeral—the name was the Hercules—the prisoner then said, pointing to the Peninsular and Oriental gateway close by, "That is where I left him"—I said "You will be charged with the unlawful possession of these notes," and took him to the station, where he was charged, and asked for his name and address—he said "I certainly shall refuse to give it"—he was asked more than once, but still refused—I searched him, and found on him 14l. odd in English money, two 50-franc notes, and a five-franc silver piece—I was present on the morning of the 13th at the Mansion House Police-court when he was again asked for his name—he said "Henry Andrews," but again refused his address—on the way to the police-station he said the gentleman was a French gentleman, and he had met him at various gambling places on the Continent—he gave me no information by which I could fold him.
By the JURY. He said "That is where I was to meet him," not "I met him."
GUILTY of receiving. The Jury found that the robbery was committed before the mails were put on board the ship.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, June 3rd, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MEAD Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
In this case the prisoner and another were trustees under the prosecutrix's father's will and after the co-trustee's death the prisoner, becoming sole trustee, sold securities, value 3,000l., and appropriated the proceeds to his own use. During the progress of the case MR. BESLEY stated that the prisoner did not desire to resist a verdict of
GUILTY upon the Counts for appropriating the money, upon which the Jury found that verdict — Judgment respited.
MR. FOOKS Prosecuted.
THOMAS HONEYBUN . I live at 134, Canterbury Road, Kilburn, and let the ground floor to Mr. Hamblin, who called me about 1.30 on 19th May, and I saw the prisoner on the kitchen stairs; Mr. Hamblin detained him and I sent my son for a constable—I found a glass panel; a quarter
of an inch thick, in the area door, broken, which was all right when I went to bed—as my son did not find a constable I said to the prisoner, "You had better make the best of your way off"—I then discovered that the side windows were broken, the centre window raised, and the coal cellar door in the area had the lock and staple wrenched away—I went with the prisoner, met a constable, and gave him in custody—he said that my life would not be worth a fortnight's purchase if I gave him in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were not drunk, I believe it was sham.
MR. HAMBLIN. I occupy the parlours at No. 134, Canterbury Road—on 19th May, about 1.30 a.m., my wife awoke me, I got a light, met the prisoner on the stairs, and said, "What do you want here?—he said, "Halloa, governor, have you got any tobacco?"—I said, "No, none for you"—I got him down into the kitchen—Mr. Honeybun came down and the prisoner said, "You b—, I will blow your brains out"—I went into the street with them and gave the prisoner in custody—I was the last to go to bed over night—all the doors were fast—I found the padlock wrenched off the coal cellar door—I think the prisoner feigned drunk, he might have had a glass or two, but he was no more tipsy than I am—he threatened to blow my brains out, and he blew the candle out.
SIDNEY JARMAN (Policeman). I took the prisoner—he told me to stand back, and used most foul language—he was very violent, but he did not strike, he only threatened—he said that if the prosecutor came forward his life would not be worth a fortnight's purchase—he was sober.
Prisoner's Defence. I was labouring under the effects of drink, and was not responsible for my actions, neither can I remember anything after a certain period.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. FRITH defended Fitzgibbon.
MICHAEL KELLY . I am a labourer, of 19, Western Place, Maida vale—on May 2nd, about a quarter to one a.m., I was in Lisson Grove, coming out of a urinal, and the prisoner Moore came up and knocked me down, and Leach came directly and caught hold of my hands and rifled my pockets and took two separate shillings, a pocket-handkerchief, three Halfpence, and a bacca box—Fitzgibbon stood in front of me—Donoghue came up and the prisoners went away—I was knocked down about three times—I was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I had had a glass of ale—Fitzgibbon was only about two yards from me, he took no part in the robbery, that I own—I never saw him before—there was a crowd there.
Cross-examined by Moore. I was not turned out of the public-house that night, nor did I start fighting with 30 or 40 people round me—you were not pointed out to me at the station—I put my hand on you.
Re-examined. I have no doubt that Moore and Leach robbed me.
WILLIAM DONOGHUE . I am manager of a public-house, 111, Drury Lane—on the night of 2nd May I was in Lisson Grove and saw the three prisoners and the prosecutor, in the centre of the road—Moore went up in front of Kelly and struck him two blows on his face and felled him—Moore and Fitzgibbon picked him, up and Leach tripped him and felled him again, they picked him up and all three of them led him to the urinal—I went up and said, "What are you doing with him?"—they held his hands behind him and Leach searched his pockets, and previous to that Leach struck him—I asked them what they were doing with the man—Moore said, "What the b—h—has that to do with you?"—I tried to get into the urinal, but they would not let me, and I ran to the other side and got in that way and saw Moore give Kelly another blow, he fell and they made off—I gave chase towards Great James Street and met Sergeant Record and told him, he pursued them and I went back to Kelly and led him home—on the night of the 5th, about 12 p.m., I picked Moore out from a number of others—the other two were taken last week and placed with others, and I picked them out.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have once before given evidence in a case in which Sergeant Outram was, but I have never given him information before—I am not called his jackal, or a policeman's nose—it was purely an accident that I met Record—I have never drunk with him at the Yorkshire Stingo—I am manager to Mr. C. Moore—I saw two young men, Hookham and Keyser, at the robbery—I did not say to them "What has been the matter?" nor did they answer, "There has been a fight"—there were five persons there and I made six—I do not know Fitzgibbon.
Cross-examined by Leach. I was not with Record if he met you three weeks before he took you—I lived at No. 60 in that street but never at 68.
WILLIAM RECORD (Police Sergeant D). On the morning of May 2nd I met Moore and, to the bent of my belief, Fitzgibbon, but he was on the other side, they were walking very fast—Donoghue gave me information and I went after them, but could not find them—I came up to the prosecutor, but Donoghue had gone—about midnight on the 5th I saw Moore in Chapel Street and told him I should take him in custody on suspicion of being concerned with a man in assaulting and robbing a man in Lisson Grove on the morning of the 2nd—he said, "Did you see me?"—I said, "No, but I saw you just afterwards with another man in Lisson Grove"—he said, "That is all right, then"—he was taken to the station, placed with eight or nine other men of similar appearances, and identified by Kelly and Donoghue—on May 22nd, about 10 a.m., I went to Lisson Grove and saw Fitzgibbon, that is about 60 yards from where this robbery took place—I said I should take him on suspicion of being concerned with James Moore and another in assaulting and robbing a man on the morning of the 2nd—he said, "I saw Johnto Moore fighting with a man that night, but I had nothing to do with the robbery; I have heard that I have been suspected of being concerned with him"—I said, "Yes, I saw you outside the Crown public-house that night with him"—he said, "Not me"—I said, "Yes, you were wearing a peak cap"—he said, "I have not worn it since my child fell away with it just afterwards"—he was taken to the station, placed with a number of other men,
and picked out by Kelly and Donoghue and Leach—I did not see him between the time of my receiving the information and my arresting him.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I know Mr. Hawkins well, he is a tradesman of Marylebone—I saw him on the night of the robbery about 11 o'clock or a quarter past, standing with Moore not very far from where this occurred—I have not got a note of that, but I know where I came from and where I was going—this happened on Sunday, and I arrested him on Wednesday—I knew Donoghue before, but had not seen him for some days—he once gave evidence in a case in which I was concerned; he did not then meet me by accident in the street; he gave information at the police-court—he may be called Record's "note" for what I know, but if so it is untrue—I know Inspector Dodd; I do not know Mr. Dodd of Marylebone.
Cross-examined by Moore. I had no difficulty in getting you to the station—I then sent for some men like you—I afterwards searched you, but only found a pipe—I told you to place yourself—the prosecutor did not look to me, nor did I say, "Touch him if you know him"—he pointed to you, and the inspector said, "If there is any one there you know, don't point to him, but go and touch him."
Re-examined. I arrested Fitzgibbon three weeks afterwards—I had been looking for him, but he had shaved and altered his appearance greatly—I never knew where he lived.
ARTHUR NICHOLAS (Policeman D 100). On the evening of 21st May I took Leach in Lisson Grove standing by Mr. Hawkins's auction rooms—I said, "I shall take you in custody on suspicion of being concerned with other men in custody in robbing and assaulting a man in Lisson street on the 2nd"—he said, "Highway robbery, this is a nice mess for me to get into, I thought it was all blown over"—I took him to the station, where Donoghue identified him, and Kelly identified him the next morning at the police-court.
Cross-examined by Leach. I have been on that beat about a fortnight—I have seen you before—I did not take you for three weeks, because we were not certain you were the man.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Leach says: "On the 2nd I was at home and in bed; I was not there at all." Fitzgibbons says: "I leave off work at 9 o'clock every night. I was standing outside my door at 12 o'clock at night, when there was a row in the street, but I had nothing to do with it."
Moore's Defence. I have lived in Marylebone all my life. Is it reasonable that I should be guilty of such a thing, and walk in and out of my house for days afterwards, waiting to get apprehended?
Leach's Defence. I have got a witness to prove that I was at home and in bed at the time. (This witness did not appear.)
Witnesses for Fitzgibbons.
CHARLES HOOKHAM . I am a blind-maker, of 30, Nightingale Street, in Mr. Muller's employ—I attend here because I have been subpoenaed—I did not go to the police-court because I did not want to get mixed up in the case and lose my day's work—I only know Fitzgibbon by flight—on the night Mr. Kelly was robbed there was a row in the street, and I saw Fitzgibbon standing at his own door five or six yards off—I saw no robbery—I took no part in what was going on—I did not see Donoghue till the fight was over; he then came up and spoke to me,
and I and a lad named Keyser made a statement to him—there were about 20 people there—I only know Fitzgibbon by eight, and have lost my day's work by coming here.
Cross-examined. The urinal is about 14 yards from Fitzgibbon's house on the right in Lisson Street; he lives in Lisson Street—Moore and Leach were fighting with the prosecutor; I saw them both strike him, and he struck them back—I saw them go to the urinal, the prosecutor and the two prisoners, and me and my friend walked in after them because we thought there would be another fight there—Fitzgibbon was then at his own door—no fighting went on in the urinal, they had had the fight out—when we came out of the urinal Donoghue came up.
By the COURT. I only knew Fitzgibbon on the night in question, I had never known him before—the prosecutor fell once in the fight, but I cannot say whether he fell before we came up—the quarrel was outside the urinal—I believe Fitzgibbon's face was as it is now, there is no change in him—I saw him about a fortnight afterwards going along James Street, but did not speak to him.
GEORGE FREDERICK HAWKINS . Fitzgibbon was in my employment seven years till he was taken in custody, and I noticed no difference in his appearance—he never wore whiskers; he had a slight moustache, which he has now—I knew where to find him; he lives about 15 yards from this urinal, and is a respectable honest man.
JOHN KEYSER . I am a stencil-plate cutter, of 62, Salisbury Street—I am subpoenaed in this case—I knew the case was coming on at the police-court, but did not go there because I did not want to lose a day's work—I did not know Kelly before—I was coming with a friend through Lisson Street, and saw two men in the middle of the road fighting with Kelly—I believe he went down and got up again—they went into the urinal, where strong language was used, and we led him out—Donoghue asked me what was the matter, and I made a statement to him, and he spoke to the tallest of the prisoners—I led Kelly away with my friend, and saw nothing more—I saw a man looking on who was a stranger to me; he never interfered; I do not know whether it was Fitzgibbon; that man took no part in assaulting the prosecutor—I do not remember his face—I cannot speak to the other two.
Cross-examined. I was with Hookham all the time the two men were fighting, looking on, but I cannot recognise any of their features—Kelly went down; I cannot say whether he was knocked down; two men were fighting him—he got up and went into the urinal; the other men followed him, and we followed, thinking he would get another hiding—we led him out, and left him by himself in Devonshire Street—Donoghue did not lead him away, it was me and my friend—this affair lasted about five minutes, but Donoghue never came up till we came out of the urinal—though I was there five or six minutes I cannot identify the men, it did not interest me, I did not think I should be called upon to know their faces.
MOORE— GUILTY .
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell in December, 1884.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
LEACH— GUILTY. — Six Months' Hard Labour. FITZGIBBON received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, June 3rd and 4th, 1886.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FREDERICK BARTON PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Detective Sergeant). In consequence of information I went on 21st April, about 11.30, with Sergeant Reader and Constables Tremblett and Kenna, to a carpenter's shop at the back of 8, Stacy Street, St. Giles's—both the prisoners appeared to have been at work at the carpenter's bench, and had planes in their hands; they had left off when I opened the door—I said, addressing chiefly Frederick Barton, "We are police officers, and we have information that you have stolen property in this shop"—Frederick Barton said "We have nothing here but what is our own"—I then said "Have you any china here?—he said "No, we have told you we have nothing here"—I said "We shall have to search the shop"—Thomas said nothing—we commenced to search, and from underneath the bench where they were standing I pulled out this box, which contained this gold watch, two silver watches, one with bow broken off, a gold necklet and cross, a coral chain, several metal chains, and various other little articles of jewellery—I also found two counterfeit sovereigns, 25 counterfeit half-sovereigns, 216 counterfeit half-crowns, 81 counterfeit florins, and 138 counterfeit shillings, and pieces of metal which might be used for making counterfeit coin—the coins were wrapped separately in paper—both prisoners were present at the time of finding—I addressed both the prisoners, and said "How do you account for these watches and jewellery?"—the elder prisoner said "They have been brought here by different persons and left"—I said "Do you know the persons who brought them here?"—he said "No, I don't"—the younger prisoner said nothing—I then told them they would be charged with having it in their possession, supposed to be stolen—they made no answer.
Cross-examined. I know the neighbourhood well, but did not know there was a carpenter's shop there till the last few months—I believe they were carrying on genuine work there as carpenters—I have seen the father in suspicious company, but not the son; as far as I know, the son has been following his trade as carpenter.
WILLIAM READER (Detective Sergeant E). I went with Partridge, Kenna, and Tremblett on 21st April to this carpenter's shop, and there saw the prisoners—underneath the bench at which they were working, amongst some shavings, I found this box containing the works of nine watches, the glasses of seven, the back cases of three other watches, two sets of billiard balls, and a blue box containing another set of billiard balls, and a set of glasses, without tops, belonging to a lady's dressing bag—by the side of the box, among the shavings, I found a lady's handbag, in which was a purse—I found a cash box, which had been forced from the top—on a shelf near by I found books and a musical box, covered with shavings, a duplex tucker, and surgical instruments—I said to both of the prisoners "How do you account for these things?"—Thomas Barton, who was nearer to me (Frederick Barton being near Partridge), replied "They have been left here by different persons, I
cannot say by whom," or words to that effect—the prisoners refused to give their address—I went later on the same day with Kenna to where they lived—we searched there, and I saw Kenna find a set of billiard balls and some pickles.
Cross-examined. We went into the shop at the same time practically—the search began directly after Partridge had spoken to the prisoners—the shed is 25 feet long, I should think—directly we spoke Thomas Barton walked and stood by the spot where these things were found—there were two benches, with just room enough to work between them—these things were found under the right-hand bench, where the father was working—there were only these two working benches in the shed, there might be room for more than two to work there—another man was sitting down inside, near the fireplace, he was not in working clothes; I had not seen him before—I heard Partridge ask Frederick Barton to account for the watches, and he replied "They have been brought here by different persons and left"—Partridge said "Do you know the persons?" and Frederick Barton said "No, I don't," I believe—the younger prisoner did not speak, but he said, in answer to me, "They have been left here by different persons, I don't know whom"—the father was close by—I am of opinion that both spoke, but I addressed my question more to the younger prisoner—I went into both the rooms the prisoners lived in, it was on the first floor; they are both bedrooms, one is used as a living room and bedroom—the landlady was there, and the daughter came in directly afterwards—a child came from school, and we got the key from her—the billiard balls were found in a drawer in the larger room, which was used as a living and sleeping room—in the same room we found a couple of unopened bottles of pickles and a number of empty bottles.
SIDNEY TREMBLETT (Policeman E 350). I went with Partridge, Reader, and Kenna to this carpenter's shop at the back of 8, Stacy Street, St. Giles's, where I saw the prisoners, who were working at the same bench, the first as you go in—I helped to search underneath that bench and found five jars of pickles and 26 bottles containing sauces and pickles—they were on the floor covered with shavings—some bottles bore Crosse and Blackwell's labels—I also found four pairs of leather uppers of boots—on a shelf near at hand I found, underneath a plane, a counterfeit half-sovereign in paper, and a hair guard—I asked the elder prisoner "How do you account for these pickles?"—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I saw no box found, both prisoners were working at the bench to the right of the door—I heard Frederick Barton say in reply to Partridge "They have been brought here by different persons and left"—he also said he did not know who brought them, Thomas Barton was close by at the time, he made no answer—I saw Header find the black lead and other things, I cannot swear I heard him say anything to the prisoner—I will not swear Reader did not address the prisoner nor that they did not reply to him—Partridge and Header were called before me at Bow Street, and I was in Court while their evidence was given—I said at the close of my evidence "I corroborate the evidence of the two sergeants"—I meant I did as far as I could.
JOSEPH MCKENNA (Detective E). I accompanied Partridge, Reader, and Tremblett to the carpenter's shop on 21st April, and later in the same day went with Reader to 1, Peter Street, Soho, where the prisoners occupied
two rooms—we searched and in a drawer found three billiard bails, which have since been identified by Messrs. Thurston and co of Catherine Street—in the cupboard I found three bottles of sauce, labelled "crosse and Blackwell."
Cross-examined. I went in the shop some time after Partridge and Reader; the prisoners were standing near the door, I did not hear Partridge say anything.
ARTHUR ELSDEN WEBB . I am the son of James Thomas Webb, a watchmaker at 446, Oxford Street, and assist my father in his business—on 8th February, the day of the riots, we had a quantity of property to the value of 400l. or 500l. stolen from the shop windows—this watch is my father's property, and formed a portion of that stolen—its value is about 5l.
THOMAS WILLIAM CONYEARS . I am assistant to Thomas Potts and another trading as Thurston and Co., billiard table makers, at Catherine Street, strand—these two sets of billiard balls are their property and form portion of 28 sets stolen from their shop on the night of the 23rd June, when it was broken into.
FRANK BELL . I am manager to Thomas Francis Blackwell, trading as Crosse and Blackwell, pickle manufacturers, 21, Soho Square—these five jars of pickles (found at the shop) are our property, and these other bottles are also—they have not been sold, but have been stolen from the place, I cannot say when, but I should say since last summer, because we sell out one stock before we make another, and they were stolen since the last fruit season—we have been continually missing goods; these are of last year's make—these found in the drawer may have been purchased, I cannot speak to them.
Cross-examined. We are continually being robbed, these are full bottles of pickles, fruits, and sauces—they might have been stolen before 21st April, 1885—I say they are stolen because they are in an unfinished condition—occasionally our employee put a bottle or two in their pocketes.
MARK JACOBS . I am cashier to Messrs. Burroughes and Watts, billiard table makers at 13, Soho Square—this ball is one of our make, and these others are similar to those we make, but I cannot speak positively to them—this box has never been sold—we always mark the box.
Cross-examined. I cannot say that this ball was stolen since 21st April, 1885.
KATE COLLINGWOOD . I am the wife of Henry Collingwood, of 112, Wardour Street, Soho Square, a stationer's assistant—this musical box and these two brooches are our property—they were last in out possession on the morning of Christmas Day, 1885, when we left our house—we returned between 12 and 1 o'clock the following morning and found the house had been broken into, and that we had been robbed of a good deal of property, of which these things formed part—I found the stone from this brooch on the carpet—the works were in the musical box when we left, now all the works have been taken out, it is only a case—we gave 10 guineas for it.
JAMES SPILLER . I live at 15, West Street, St. Martin's Lane, and am a picture frame maker, and landlord of 8, Stacy Street, and the carpenter's shop at the back of it—Frederick Barton has been tenant of the shop at 5s. a week for two years—the other prisoner is his son, who has been working with and helping his father at the shop.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had been tenant for fire years before I
bought it—they were always at work when I saw them—as long as I have known them the son has always borne the character of a honest, hardworking man.
THOMAS HENRY JENKINS . I am the son of Mrs. Jenkins, who lives at, and is the landlady of, 1, Peter Street, Soho—the prisoners have been tenants of two rooms in that house, a bed and sitting-room—I cannot say if they slept in different or in the same room; I never go in the tenants' rooms—they hare been there 13 or 14 years.
Cross-examined. My sister waits on them—the prisoner had a sister—the son always bore the character of a hard-working, honest man—Messrs. Tooth, Wheatley, and Scott have employed the father, who had Always enough work—the son was employed by the father.
By the COURT. Another man was sometimes employed and worked in the shop with the prisoners.
THOMAS WILLIAM CONYEARS (Re-examined). We manufacture our own balls on the premises entirely—we did not sell many of these; the thing was absolutely a failure as far as the composition was concerned—there were perhaps 200 on the market—there are other billiard manufacturers in London—we had travellers who would take balls about as samples—the composition shows they are our manufacture—we never sell this size in England—we made 100 sets this size, and we sold none of them—we have no agencies abroad for these—we never sent any to our foreign agencies, and only sold them at our office in Catherine Street—we possess the 200 sets of these balls.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM PARTRIDGE (Re-examined). The benches were parallel along the middle of the shed, and at such a distance apart that if a man worked at one his back would touch the other—most of the goods were under one bench, but the boot-uppers and some things were under the other—the shelf was nearer one bench than the other.
There were four other indictments against the prisoners for receiving goods.
offered no evidence against Thomas Barton. NOT GUILTY .
Upon the indictment on which William Barton was found guilty, he entered into his own recognisances in 50l. to appear for judgment if called upon.
The Grand Jury commended the conduct of Partridge, Reader, Tremblett, and Kenna, and the COMMON SERJEANT awarded 8l. to be divided between them.
MESSRS. POLAND and GOODRICH Prosecuted.
GUILTY on 1st, 3rd, and 4th Counts.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, June 4th, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
647. WILLIAM HENRY DOBB (23) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 3 1/2 yards of silk of Frank Debenham and others, his masters; also to embezzling 6l. 6s., 11l. 0s. 8d., and 2l. 8s. 3d., of his said masters; also to forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of 1l. 2s. 6d., with intent to defraud. (He received a food character).— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BESLEY, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. GILL and SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
JAMES FREDERICK KNIGHT . I am in the employ of Mr. Whiteley—on Nov. 3rd I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph for a confidential clerk, which I answered and received this letter, asking me to call at 59, Chancery Lane, which I did, and saw the prisoner, who said be wanted some one who could manage a branch establishment at Clapham Junction; that he had a large business, and lots of renter were waiting to be collected, and he wanted me to take the management of that, because he had opened in Chancery Lane, and could not attend to the two properly; that he wanted 100l. security, because there would be large sums of money continually passing through my hands—I was to call again, as he had several applicants—I then received another letter, asking me to call to-morrow, and stating that it would be useless unless I could give cash security of 100l.—I had not got the 100l.—I paid him 2l. deposit, and then he said that he should not require me for nearly a month; that he had got the furniture all ready, but had not got an office, and his previous partner was such a drunkard he had to dissolve partnership with him—I afterwards paid him another 3l., and then the balance, 95l., believing his statement that considerable sums would pass through my hands—he gave me this receipt for the 100l., and this agreement was drawn up between us (produced)—I went to Chancery Lane for a week, but the only business done was a licensed beerhouse—after a week I went to Clapham Junction; he bad no business there whatever—I mentioned that fact to him several times, and he said he expected a lot of business after Christmas—I was there from December 19th to January 26th, when he promised to come at 2 o'clock to pay me my salary—I waited till 7 o'clock, and he did not come, and again on the Monday, and he did not come, and on the Tuesday I went and found that nothing had been heard of him, and I ceased to go there—I was paid up to January 16th.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Several people came, but in answer to your advertisements of businesses—you said that you had been at clapham Junction 11 years, but I did not go down there to see because you said you had given it up in consequence of your partner—you gave me no instructions to collect any rents—you bad names on your books given to you through advertisements, and you said that you were apprenticed to Hunt and Vance, for which your parents paid 150l., and your brother said the same; I found that that was false.
to my son, who wrote a letter to the address given and received a reply, in consequence of which I went with him to 59, Chancery Lane, and saw the prisoner and asked him if he thought my boy would suit him—he said "Yes"—I asked his terms—he said "30l. premium"—I asked the wages—he said 5s. a week for the first three months, 10s. a week for the second three months, and 15s. for the last six months—he said that he had a very good business, and had been in business for himself 12 years at Clapham Junction, and had to leave because his partner was such a drunkard that if any female clients came he began insulting them—he referred me to the Birkbeck Bank and several other places, but I did not go to any—he said he had several applications, and if I could arrange with him that night he would call at my house, which he did, and brought this agreement (produced) which we both signed, and I paid him 5l. on account of the 30l.—he gave me this receipt—on 17th October I received this letter and gave my boy 25l. to take to the prisoner, and he brought back this receipt the same night—in the middle of January my son told me something and I told him to give notice—I made an appointment with the prisoner and went to Chancery Lane, but did not see him.
Cross-examined. You are not an auctioneer, and never were.
ALBERT STOKES . I am the son of the last witness—I paid the prisoner 25l.—the only business was a transfer of an off-licence beerhouse—I do not know who did that—I spoke to my father from time to time, and ceased to go there in January when the landlord seized the furniture.
Cross-examined. I entered your employ in October—you put an advertisement in the paper of 200,000l. to invest—you asked people to allow you commission in the event of property being sold; they said yes and you entered it in the books, but you had got nobody to my knowledge who wanted to invest 200,000l.—I went once or twice to Mr. Williams, who had property on the books—orders to view were sent off and the names were entered in the clients' book—Male, a clerk in your office, paid 50l. and got it back.
Re-examined. Male was paid the same day that the prisoner got 100l. from a clerk named Hill who went to Sydney—the prisoner said that in six weeks there was to be a sale of property at the Mart, but it did not come off.
DANIEL BROWN (Police Sergeant). I held a warrant against the prisoner, and hearing that he had surrendered I went down to Aston on 23rd April, and said, "Is your name Cromer?"—he said, "Yes"—I read the warrant to him; he made no reply—I took him to town, and in the train he said "I suppose if I give myself up my sentence will be much lighter?"—I have searched and find that he is not an auctioneer.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been in the auctioneering 10 or 11 years, and last September, having some money, I started a business and did all I could to make it pay. I had a clerk named Male who stayed with me till November, and I paid him back his deposit of 30l. when he left. When I received this money there was no idea of defrauding, but business was so bad that instead of staying and facing it, I left London, but afterwards I found I could bear it no longer and gave myself up.
GUILTY . Inspector James stated that Hills had lost 100l. which he deposited with the prisoner, which entirely ruined him, and he had to emigrate.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
ELIZA ANN WHITE, ANDREW PRIDE, CHARLES COOK, JOHN CONQUEST, EDWARD TALLEN, CHARLES RICHARDS, MATTHEW VAN BOOLEN, and EMMA CROOK repeated their former evidence, (See page 166.)
ADOLPHE COHEN . I am a general dealer, of 10, Gerard Street—on 7th May, about 3.30 p.m., I was passing Van Boolen's shop, Little Newport Street, and saw him speaking to a fair man—in consequence of what he said to me I went with him to Oakley Street and saw Keating—I was shown two sacks containing a quantity of fur—we went to a public-house opposite, the other two prisoners were there—the five of us then had a consultation—they then asked me 112l. for the furs, and afterwards came down to 62l. 10s., which was the price agreed upon—I consider they were worth 300l. or 400l.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have known Von Boolen a long time, because I go through the street every day—I have spoken to him now and then—I have a private house in Gerard Street and a shop—I did not say to Harvey and Worssam at the beginning of May, "The things are not worth so much as your friend is offering," nor did I tell any one that if they had been diamonds, which would go easily in the pocket, they might be worth 1,000l. or 2,000l.
The RECORDER considered that if the prisoners were guilty of anything it was of stealing and not of receiving.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, June 5th, 1886.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted.
GUILTY of the attempt. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, the offence being committed under the influence of drink, and his previous character being good.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
GUILTY .— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON Defended.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. WILDEY WRIGHT Defended.
GUILTY of the attempt.
The prisoner then PLEADED GUILTY to an indictment charging him with an attempt to have carnal Knowledge of Alice Louisa Smith, under the age of 13, and indecently assaulting her and Ada Rosina Smith, Penfold, and Georgina Smith.— Two Years' Hard labour on each indictment, not concurrent.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, June 5th, 1886.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WILLIS, Q.C., and MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. JELF, Q.C.,
MR. CANDY, and MR. CLUER Defended.
The prisoner put in a plea of justification, to which the Prosecution demurred, and after argument, the RECORDER held that the plea could not be sustained. The prisoner then retracted his plea of
and PLEADED GUILTY to the indictment.— To enter into recognisances to appear for judgment if called on.
for the case of W. F. Branch, tried this day, see Essex Cases.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, June 5th, 1886.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and MUIR Defended.
The Jury, having seen the prosecutrix, stated that in their opinion the prisoner might reasonably have supposed that she was over 16 years of age.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARKES Prosecuted; MR. FRITH Defended.
PETER WEBBER . I am a baker, of 61, Earl Street, Long Acre—on 24th January, between 12 and 1 o'clock in the night, I was in Homer Street—I left some friends, and was then followed by three men; one knocked me in my face and wrenched my umbrella from my hand—the police captured two of them, and they have been convicted. (See Vol. 103, page 416.) I cannot identify the prisoner, it was very dark—I am a German—I got a black eye—they attacked me one on each side and one in front—besides my umbrella I lost the contents of my right-hand pocket, a tobacco pouch and handkerchief—I had had a glass or two of drink with my friends.
WILLIAM RECORD (Police Sergeant D). On 25th Jan., just before 1 a.m., I saw the prisoner with Kenealey and Imber—I knew all three—I was with another officer—we were in plain clothes, and they were walking five or six yards in front of us—as soon as Webber came up, the prisoner turned round and followed him and passed us again; we followed them
to Bell Street; they tried to push Webber down Bell Street, but he struggled, and they got him up against the grocer's shop at the corner; the prisoner got hold of his right arm, pulled open his coat and waistcoat, and Kenealey had him on the left side pulling his overcoat open—it was all done very quickly—his undercoat was fastened—Imber put his hands in Webber's pockets, and they all four went into the middle of the pavement—Imber got hold of Webber's umbrella, and was straggling with him, and hit him in the face with his fist and knocked him into the middle of the road—I halloaed out and they all ran away—the prisoner and Kenealey ran down Bell Street and up Edgware Road—D 79 pursued Imber; the prisoner escaped, but 1 arrested him on 28th April, at 14, Orchard Street, Marylebone, in a house about 200 yards from the place—I said "I shall take you in custody for being concerned with two other men in a highway robbery some time ago"—I did not mention the time or the men's names—he said "I thought that was all over; I have been here nearly ever since"—he was taken to the station and identified by other officers.
Cross-examined. None of the bystanders identified him, only policemen, no one else was in the street at the time—it was raining and very foggy—I did not stop him in the street on the night of January 26th—I did not say to him two or three nights after the occurrence "Where are you going?" nor did he say "I am going home"—I was keeping observation on the house—Orchard Street is about half a mile from the station—I did not meet him in the street and say "I think I have seen you before"—I never spoke to him—I may have called at his father's house twice or three times—his father said he was not at home, but if I would call in the morning I should see him—I did not call, as I kept observation on the house, because as a rule fathers do not get their sons into a house to arrest them—I could almost swear the prisoner was not there—I have not seen him half a dozen times since the robbery—I do not know where he was working—his lather said when I went there on the 28th April "You ought to have come before and you could have had him, he has been working here"—he did not say when I took him "I have been living at home, and if I was guilty of this you could have had me long ago"—he said "I thought it was all blown over"—it was well known in the neighbourhood about the other two being convicted—I did not say at the station "I don't know whether I can get enough evidence against him," nor did I say so to Mr. Cooke—I asked for a remand on the first occasion to get the prosecutor—it was police evidence on the last trial exactly the same as now—when I took Kenealey he said that it was a man named Jerry Wise who was with him—Kenealey had complained of me to the Commissioners about an inquiry which I had with him before his arrest.
Re-examined. I did not think it likely I should find him at his father's.
CHARLES GROVE (Policeman E 79). About 1 a.m. on January 25th I was on duty with Record in plain clothes, and saw the prisoner with Imber and Kenealey—I knew him by sight, but did not know his name—they forced Mr. Webber against the shutters of a shop in Bell Street—Kenealey took hold of his left hand, and the prisoner his right—they pulled his coat open, and Imber snatched his umbrella and struck him on the eye, and ran away—Webber struggled and fell, and Kenealey and
the prisoner ran down Bell Street, and Imber up the road towards Kilburn—I gave chase and assisted in taking Imber—on May 5th I saw the prisoner at the police-court, and have no doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined. It was raining, and rather dark, but there was a large lamp there.
HERBERT RAIKES (Policeman D 272). About 1 a.m. on 25th January I was coming down Edgware Road in plain clothes, and saw the prisoner who I knew by sight only, and two others—they got Webber against the shutters, and the prisoner had hold of his right arm, and unbuttoned his coat; Imber had hold of his left arm, and assisted in rifling his pockets, and then struck him a blow in the face which caused him to fall; he then took his umbrella away and ran towards Earl Street—I took Imber—the prisoner escaped, but I have no doubt that he was the third man.
Cross-examined. It was dark and raining—it all happened very quickly—there was a lamp just where it happened.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I reserve my defence. I was in bed at the time the thing occurred."
Witnesses for the Defence.
PATRICK MORONEY . I am a shoemaker, of 14, Orchard Street, Marylebone—the prisoner is my son—I heard of this robbery from Sergeant Record on the Thursday night following when he came to my house and inquired about my son who was not at home—I told them to go upstairs and wait, and they waited a quarter of an hour, and soon after they left my son came home—I told him that the police had called about him but he did not go away, he kept there with me—he had been going about the neighbourhood and working in the same room with me—I remember the night of the robbery because I looked at the almanack; it was Saturday the 23rd—I heard of it from Record on the Thursday—my son came home and was in bed by a little before 12 that night—we both sleep in one room—he did not get up and go out again; he could not, unknown to me—he has not left home since; he worked with me every day—I am talking of a Saturday night.
Cross-examined. Record only called once, when he took my son out of the room when we were having our tea—my son said that he met Record on Sunday night and shook hands with him, that he knew the chaps he mentioned, and they were bad characters, and wanted to get him into it, but he was never in trouble in his life.
ELIZA MORONEY . I am the prisoner's mother—I heard on a Thursday of imber and Kenealey being taken for a robbery on the previous Saturday night—my son came home about 7 o'clock that night, and he was in bed before 12—he did not go out again; he could pot, unknown to me.
Cross-examined. Why I thought of where my son had been on Saturday night was this, I heard that they mentioned his name, and I said it could not be him, for he was in bed—I don't remember the day of the month—Record only called once, to my knowledge—my two daughters sleep with me in one room, and my son and my husband in the other.
By the COURT. I was not in bed when he came in; I did not go to bed till between 2 and 3 in the morning—he has been staying at home ever since, the best part of the time—I have two clocks in the room.
GUILTY .†— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
The Common Serjeant considered that the police had acted with great caution and care, and commended their conduct.
OLD COURT.—Monday, June 7th, 1886.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted.
LOWRY— GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
SUNDERLAND— NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
DAVID BROWN . I am a plasterer, of 1, Leigh Terrace, Upton Manor—on Good Friday I was on Wanstead Flats, watching a fight in a crowd—I lost my watch; the chain was left hanging—the bow of the watch was broken—I gave information to the police—on being sent for I went to the police-station—I was shown this watch (produced)—it is mine.
FREDERICK DICKER (Detective K). About 4.15 on the 23rd of April I was on Wanstead Flats—there was a fight, and a crowd gathered—I saw Baylis's hands leave the front of a man's breast, and he handed something to Garnett—I heard some one say "My watch is gone"—I tried to get at the prisoners, but was unable to do so because of the crowd—I communicated to Sergeant Fox, and followed the prisoners about 200 yards, when they went behind a screen at the back of a cocoa-nut shying place—I saw them examine this watch—we rushed at them—Fox got Baylis and I got Garnett—Garnett said "What are you going to do; what have I done?"—I said "I am going to take you into custody for stealing a watch"—seeing Fox struggling I went to his assistance, releasing Garnett—we took Baylis to the station—he was charged—I identified Garnett at the station from several men when he was taken.
FREDERICK FOX (Detective Sergeant V). On the 23rd April I was on Wanstead Flats—a fight was going on—I saw the prisoners in the crowd—Dicker spoke to me—we followed the prisoners behind a screen—the sun was shining, and we could see their shadows through, and that they were holding something in their hands—we rushed to the back—I seized Baylis and touched Garnett, saying "I am a policeman"—Garnett rushed away; I got hold of Baylis—he struggled hard, kicking and hitting me, and got away—I chased him and caught him again; he got away again, and ran towards a fence, threw himself between the bars—I caught his legs between mine, and tried to get hold of him over the bar but could not; he got away—just as I was catching him again Dicker came to my assistance—I found this watch in his left hand—I told him to give it to me; he would not—I said "I shall have to use violence if you do not"—with a little violence I got hold of it—he said "Don't knock me about; you have got me straight; I will give in"—
he said nothing in answer to the charge—I went to the police-station and identified Garnett on the 6th May.
In his defence Baylis said he picked up the watch; and Garnett that Baylis called his attention to it and he went behind the screen for convenience, but knew he could not give a good story about it.
They then PLEADED GUILTY to convictions of felony, Baylis at Clerkenwell in April, 1884, and Garnett at Worship Street in September, 1885.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
660. WILLIAM BUCK (19), EDWARD HELLIER (36), and ELIZABETH WADE (40) were indicted, Buck for unlawfully carnally knowing Minnie Jenkins, a girl under 16, and Hellier and Wade for unlawfully aiding and abetting him. Other Counts charging Buck with attempting the offence, and Hellier and Wade with suffering the girl to be on their premises for the said purpose.
HELLIER PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON defended Buck.
MR. WARBURTON withdrew the charge against
WADE— NOT GUILTY .
BUCK— GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY of an indecent assault.— Six Weeks' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. JONES Defended.
ALLISON SUTHERLAND . I am a widow—in April last I was living at Ormeston House, Walthamstow, the prisoner lived next door to me about six years ago, and I knew him and his family—on 16th April my servant was out, and my nephew, Jefferies, was at, home—he usually goes out about 7.20 p.m. and returns at 9 o'clock, but on that evening he returned about ten minutes after he went out, and he and I were at supper in the front parlour about 8.30—I heard a loud knocking, and he went to the dour—I heard talking in the passage, and went out and saw the prisoner—I did not recognize him at first, but I did afterwards—I said to my nephew "What does that young man want?"—the prisoner said that he had come from the coffee-shop in Selby Road, that he was in a box there, and heard two men say "We are going to have a job to-night at Mrs. Sutherland's in Milton Road," and that hearing my name mentioned he thought it right to come and let me know—I said that I was very much obliged—I then said "Why, you are young Branch"—he said "Yes"—he was asked to wait—he appeared excited, and said that he had run all the way on purpose to tell me—he then said "There they are at the back"—there is a door at the back—I went there with my nephew, and he followed—I heard no noise and saw nobody—he then came and sat
down, and had a glass of beer—I said "Never mind, let them come"—he then said that he heard them again—my nephew rushed out, but there was nobody—the prisoner then said "Stop, stop, I can see them"—I could see nobody—my nephew went into the greenhouse, but there was nobody there—we then went into the kitchen, and my nephew was opening the kitchen door, about three feet from the prisoner, when I turned round and saw the prisoner with a revolver in his hand, pointing it at my nephew's head, and before I could scream I saw a flash and beard a report—my nephew said "I am shot, and I have lost my eye, and this boy has done it"—I rushed to the front of the house, and turned round and saw the prisoner following my nephew with the pistol again—I called "Murder!" and "Thieves!" and he went out the back way and escaped—my nephew was bleeding very much from the face—I got assistance, end he was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. My nephew has lived with me 12 or 13 years—he was living with me when the Branch family lived next door in one of my houses; his mother was my tenant up to the time my husband died—he never visited us when he lived next door—I can't say whether he knew the ins and outs of my house—he was not a child then—I am still on friendly relations with his mother, and always respected her—we visit each other once or twice every year—the prisoner's father died next door to us—my nephew shut the parlour door when he went out, the blinds were down and the lamps alight—I am certain that I went into the passage before the prisoner came into the room, he had his hat on, I am certain of that because I had to look down to recognise him; he never took it off-the whole time he was in the house—I suggest that he was rude enough to sit in my room partaking of my hospitality with his hat on—I was excited and nervous, but I am sure he never took his hat off—he sat on a couch at the corner of the room farthest from the table—there is a door from that room into the pantry and you pass another door by the coal cellar, and three doors before you come to the kitchen, that is the passage through which I went three times, I did not go-into the main passage of the hall—my nephew led the way to the back part—we did not go into the greenhouse—I stayed with the prisoner in the corridor—he had the glass of beer with his hat on, my nephew had not his hat on, I think it was lying on the table or chair and he took it up—my nephew went out into the open air—what the prisoner said the third time was "I can see their faces through the window," and my nephew asked him to remain with me while he went for Mr. Neave—there was no one in the house but my nephew and the prisoner and me, and if my nephew had gone for Neave I should have been left alone with the prisoner—my nephew did not go outside—it was the kitchen window through which the prisoner said he could see faces—my nephew looked out at the greenhouse, which faces the same way—I was then in the kitchen right at the back of the pantry—the prisoner was nearer the sink than the door, and I was almost in a line between him and my nephew—my nephew was in the act of pulling up the chain, and his head was down so that it did not obstruct my view—I saw the pistol pointed at his head—the prisoner had a largish great coat on with pockets at the side—I do not remember whether I said before the Magistrate that I saw the prisoner following my nephew with the revolver—there was a light in the breakfast room, in the passage, and in the kitchen—there is a hat rack in the
hall opposite the stairs, the prisoner did not go there to get his hat—I can say that although I was standing at the door crying "Thieves"—when my nephew was hit the prisoner did not put his hand to his head and say "Good God, what have I done," I may have said so before the Magistrate—the pistol was 9 or 10 inches from my nephew's head—I told my nephew that I had seen two suspicious persons about the house a little while before the prisoner was sitting there, but I don't know whether he heard that—I may have said before the Magistrate "I did not tell him I had seen suspicious characters watching the house," I had seen none—I don't know which hand the prisoner held the revolver in—there has been no ill feeling between us—I know nothing about the boy.
PETER JEFFERIES . I live with my aunt, Mrs. Sutherland, and have done so for 13 years—on 16th April I had been out for a quarter of an hour, and came home about 8.15—I generally came in about 8.45—while my aunt and I were at supper some one came, I opened the door, and the prisoner was there—I asked him what he wanted—he was very much excited—he said that he had been at a coffee-house in Selborne Road and heard two men arrange about a robbery at Mrs. Sutherland's—I recognized him and asked him if his name was Branch—he said, "Yes," and I asked him in—he said the men were going to break in after they came from some booth in the High Street—he then said something about hearing a noise at the back—I went there, but found no one—I went a second and a third time, and as I was pulling open the door between the kitchen and the conservatory, he was standing to my right, and a flash came from where he was standing—I heard a report and was struck on the right side on my face as I was stooping down to put up the chain—I called out, "I am shot; I have lost my eye, that boy Branch has done it"—I found blood coming from my face—I was not aware that he had a revolver—a surgeon came, and I was taken to the Hospital, and was there two weeks—I have completely lost the sight of one eye, and the bullet has not been extracted—the prisoner rendered me no assistance.
Cross-examined. I have a recollection of him when he lived next door—he was a mere boy—there was no ill feeling between us—I did not know him—as far as I know he had no malice towards me—I knew his mother—I was only out about ten minutes, I went to get the supper beer—I had seen him once about 18 months ago, I said, "You are Willie Branch, are you not?"—I noticed his hat, I fancy he kept it on the whole time he was in the house—I think he had the beer with his hat on—I put my hat on, I think it was in the parlour—I had just come in—I heard my aunt say that she had seen a suspicious party about, which was another reason why I thought there was something in it—each time I went out I took the chain off the kitchen and conservatory doors—the prisoner had a longish coat on—I asked him to stay with my aunt while I went to get Neave, and just as I was going he said that he saw some faces at the window—Neave lives just across the road—if I had fastened the front door nobody could have got in from the outside—I had some conversation with him as to his mother and family—he said he was going to a situation the next Monday, this was Friday—I did not see him follow my aunt after I was shot, I was almost insensible—he kept his hands in the side pockets of his coat—after he
fired he did not say, "Good God, what have I done!"—I should have heard that in spite of the injury.
ARTHUR CORNELL . I am a waiter at the coffee-shop in Selborne Road, Walthamstow—on Friday, 16th April, I was there from 6.30 to 9p.m.—there were several customers there, but the prisoner was not there.
Cross-examined. I mean I did not see him—there were about twenty people there that night at 7 o'clock—their numbers would gradually get thinner—I had never seen him in my life, and do not know what difference a his would make—it is my business to take the money—the proprietor and her daughters wait—there are boxes about two feet above the seat—they do not rise above customers' heads—there is a large room upstairs, but it was not used that day.
Re-examined. The daughters were in the kitchen, they were not serving the customers—there was not a stranger in the coffee-house that night, all the people there were customers.
ANN INGLETON . I am a widow—I manage a coffee palace at Selborne Road, Walthamstow—on Friday, 16th April, I saw all the customers between 6 and 8.30 or 9, I saw no strangers—I do not know the prisoner.
JAMES JEFFERIES . I am a builder's foreman, of Walthamstow—on Saturday, 24th of April, I was playing at cricket on a piece of ground near Musk House—I had to go after a ball, and at the edge of a pond I picked up this revolver—it was lying on some leaves, it was not wet—I gave it to Inspector Glass.
Cross-examined. It was loaded, and one barrel was discharged—I kept it more than a fortnight—I read the report in the newspaper of this case, but had not heard that the police were searching for the pistol—it was four or five yards from the path, under a tree.
----GLASS (Police Inspector). After the prisoner was remanded I had this pond searched, but nothing was found—on 12th May Jefferies gave me this revolver, five chambers were loaded and one had been discharged.
Cross-examined. The cartridges were not found in the same place as the revolver—I found them in consequence of information from the prisoner's solicitor, and the inquiries about the purchase of the revolver came from the same source.
Re-examined. The solicitor was acting for the prisoner's brother as well, who was also in custody—the cartridge was found half or threequarters of a mile from Mrs. Sutherland's.
JAMES SQUIRES . I am a gunsmith of Castle Street, Whitechapel—I have examined this revolver—five chambers were loaded, and one has been discharged—it is double action, but it will not stand at half-cock; unless you pull the trigger the chamber will not come under the hammer—these are pin-fire cartridges, and fit the revolver—the bullets are small.
Cross-examined. I extracted five cartridges from the revolver—there is no trigger guard—it is a lay-down trigger, and requires about a twopound
pull before it will go off—it is the cheapest and commonest that can be made.
JOSEPH JUDSON (Police Inspector). On 16th April, about 10.30, I went to 5, Victoria Grove, Walthamstow, nearly a mile from Mrs. Sutherland's, and equally distant from the pond—I found the prisoner in bed, and asked him if his name was William; he said "Yes"—I said, "Have you been to Milton Road to-night?"—he said "No"—I said, "Do you know Mr. Jefferies"—he said "No"—I said, "Do you know Mrs. Sutherland?"—he said "Yes"—I said, "M?. Jefferies has been shot, and you will have to get up and come with me to the police-station"—he said, "I did not come down till the 9.30 train," that means from London—I took him to the station—he was placed with five others, and Mrs. Sutherland said, "That is the man that shot my nephew"—he said nothing then, but in answer to the charge he said, "It is a lie"—I examined the spikes at the bottom of the garden at daylight, and found a piece of the lining of a coat, which fits the prisoner's coat where a piece has been torn off.
Cross-examined. The pockets of his coat are full of holes—I am sure I did not say "Mrs. Jefferies" to him—he put on a round felt hat.
RIGINALD LUCY I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—on 17th April I examined Jefferies, and found a wound on the right side of his face and a hole; his eye was injured—there was a circle of gunpowder or an inch round the orifice, showing that the revolver was somewhat close, not nearer than a foot—he was an in-patient for about a fortnight—his right eye is completely destroyed; his life was in danger for some time—the bullet has never been extracted—he is out of danger now.
Cross-examined. The wound was just behind the lobe of the ear, and went forward and struck the eye—I believe the bullet is in the orbit.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Four Months' Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
664. GEORGE ASER (37) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a spirit-level, trowel, and other tools, the goods of William Nobbs and Thomas Vaughan; also to a conviction of felony in May, 1885.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DENMAN Prosecuted.
CHARLES JAMES CLAPHAM . I am an agent to a forage contractor at Woolwich, and live at 56, Marion Road, Charlton—some years ago I was acquainted with Thomas Witchell, an officer in the military train—I had not seen him for some considerable time till 8th February, when he stopped me in the road and asked me to lend him two sovereigns, and after that he had various sums of money—at that time he showed me two letters to himself from Mr. Leonard Lincoln in reference to 350l.—
altogether I advanced him 16l. or 18l.—he was the person I had known before—on 5th March the prisoner came to my house and gave me a long detailed account of the distress she had been in—she said she was Mrs. Witchell, junior, and that I knew her father, and that this money that Mr. Lincoln had got was to come to her, but she wanted money to go down to Morbath to get it, and she asked for and I let hex have 3l. 10s. to go—she said 350l. was to come to her, and that she expected property to the amount of 50l. a year that would come to her afterwards—she said Leonard Lincoln was to pay the money to her, and he lived at Morbath—she did not give me his address then, but at the last interview but one I think she did—I gave her the money, believing what she told me—she said she should be back again and the money would be returned on the following Tuesday—she came on the Tuesday and said she would not be able to get away herself, that her husband was going, and then she asked me to give her 3l.—I hesitated, but she pleaded hard, and I let her have it—she told me she would return it on Friday—on Friday the did not come, but sent me this letter. (In this the prisoner apologised for not calling, but said she would do to the next day.) On the following day she came and told me she had been waiting at Waterloo Station for her husband to come home, and then she handed me this letter, which congratulated her and said her husband had received the 350l., and that as he was coming to London on Monday he would accompany her—it was signed "M. Lincoln," I think, I am not certain about the initial—she said the cheque was made payable at the London and County Bank in Lombard Street—I asked for Mr. Lincoln's address, and took it down on this paper from her dictation—that was 15th March, I think, at our last interview—I afterwards wrote to that address, Morbath Grange; the letter was returned through the Dead Letter Office—on the Saturday week following the prisoner came again, and said she wished to apologise for not coming on Tuesday, but that her husband was still at Morbath—on 13th March I made a further advance of 30s., when she showed me the letter supposed to come from Mr. Lincoln—I should not have paid that if I had not believed her statement—on the 22nd she came and said her husband was still at Morbath, and she offered an apology for not coming before—I said, "Have you got the money?"—she said "No"—I said, "You must kindly walk out of my house"—she said, "I am going to explain"—I said, "No, you must walk out"—the case was at that time in my solicitor's hands—I afterwards went down to Morbath—I found Morbath Grange was an empty house in charge of a caretaker; I could find no one who knew Mr. Lincoln—I afterwards applied for warrants—the Magistrate granted summonses against Colonel and Sarah Witchell—at the time I made the payments I believed the prisoner's statements.
ROBERT TRICKY . I live at the Grange, Morbath, Devonshire, as caretaker—that house is Montague Beard's, the Court County Judge's—I have lived there since last year—I have lived in the village of Morbath all my life—during February and March this year, no person of the name of Lincoln was living there, no one but myself—I am not aware of any one of that name ever having lived at that house or in the neighbourhood—the population of the village is 300 or 400—I should be sure to know him if there had been such a person there—I was at the house all through
March and did not see or hear of any person named Witchell coming there or being in the neighbourhood at all.
The prisoner in her defend stated that she went on each occasion at the request of Colonel Witchell, who instructed her what to say and said she should not get into trouble about it, and that he gave her money out of what she obtained on the first two occasions.
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM HENRY HAYS . I am an able seaman, of the ship Princess, lying in Woolwich Arsenal—on 18th May, about two a.m., I met the two prisoners outside Woolwich Arsenal gate and went with them down Cannon Road—I had been drinking over night, but was getting over it; I knew what I was doing, because I asked the officer what time I could get in at the gate, and he said "Not till four o'clock"—we went to the Duke of Cambridge, Knight knocked the landlord up, and I paid him 2s. 6d. for a bottle of rum, and we then went into Self's yard and drank some of it—I lost consciousness, and when I came to myself I found my nostrils stopped up, and a lightish brown substance on my nose—I missed my watch and chain and 19s. 4 1/2 d.—I saw my watch at 2.15, when a man asked me the time—I saw the prisoners at the police-court next morning and recognized them as they were brought in one after the other.
Cross-examined by Knight. I had never seen you before—you spoke first and told me you were chaps out of work—you had some of the rum, but you were not drugged as well as me.
Cross-examined by New. I did not ask you for a lucifer.
MICHAEL LEAHY . I keep the Duke of Cambridge, Cannon Road—on the morning of 18th May I was knocked up and found the two prisoners and the sailor at the door—the sailor paid me for a bottle of rum—they all appeared sober—they went in the direction of the Arsenal Gate—Self's yard is that way, 250 yards off.
Cross-examined by Knight. It was daylight—it was I think about four o'clock—you did not come into my house about 7.30 and show me a chain and a compass, that was the day before.
GEORGE BRENCHLEY (Police Sergeant R). On 19th May, about 10 a.m., I went to 3, Warren Lane, and saw Knight in bed—I said, "I am going to take you in custody, Jumbo, for being concerned with another in robbing a sailor of a watch and chain and money, in Self's yard early yesterday morning—he said, "So help me God, Mr. Brenchley, I know nothing about it; I admit that I was out; my girl had a friend with her and I had to be out and went to a lodging-house, and she came and called me in the morning"—Hays was in the street and followed us to the station and identified him—I found on him a sealed packet of powder which Hays smelt and said, "That is the name sort of stuff as I found on my nose and mouth when I came to in Selfs yard"—I do not know what it is, but I know there is a powder used for putting in drink.
Cross-examined by Knight. You mentioned my name—I did not expect to find the property on you.
Cross-examined by New. I did not know that you were robbed.
Houlding's Lane, and found New in bed—I told him I should take him for being concerned with another man in custody in stealing a watch and chain and 19s. from a sailor in Cannon Road, on Tuesday morning, the 18th—he said, "I did not steal the money, I and two other men went into Self's yard, we obtained a bottle of rum from the Duke of Cambridge in Cannon Row; we went into Self's yard and there we drank it; I became insensible in consequence of something being put into the drink, and when I recovered 1 found myself in the passage of Cook's house"—that is in Warren Lane, about 200 yards from Self's yard, and from the public-house to Self's yard is about 50 yards—I took him to the station and Hays identified him.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Knight says: "I was in bed at the time; I am not the man who did it." New says: "I know nothing about the watch; I don't believe he had a watch. I was drugged and robbed too."
The prisoners repeated the same statements in their defence, and Knight said that the powder found on him was only camphor, which he bought at Aldershot to keep among his clothes.
KNIGHT then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Aldershot in November, 1882.— Nine Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. MOYSES Prosecuted.
WILLIAM LADD . I am a builder, and live at Andrew's Hill, Greenwich—on Sunday, 16th May, I had a horse in Westcombe Park; I saw it grazing there at 5 o'clock, and on Monday morning I could not find it, and gave information to the police—I then went to Tabard Street to a Mr. Nicholas, a horse slaughterer, and saw my hone with its mane and forelock cut off—I afterwards received some information and communicated it to the police—the horse is worth 10l.—I swear positively it is the horse I left in the field; I have had it eight years.
BENJAMIN NICHOLLS . I am a horse slaughterer, of Tabard Street, Borough—on 17th May, between 11 and 12 a.m., the two prisoners brought a bay gelding to me; they wanted 30s. for it—I said I would give them 25s. and 1s. for Fielder, which they took—they said it would not work, it was broken-winded—about 7 p.m. Mr. Ladd came and claimed it.
Cross-examined by Buck. he horse was not worth 2l., it was poor and broken-winded; I bought it for slaughtering.
Cross-examined by Fielder. I bought the horse of Buck—it is a regular habit to give the man a shilling—you have brought other horses to me, but never worked for me.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I took Buck in custody—I said "I shall apprehend you for being concerned with John Fielder in stealing a horse from Westcombe Park this morning"—he made no answer—at the station I said "The horse was sold to Mr. Nicholls in the Borough by you and Fielder"—he said "I sold one there to-day for 25s. I was standing outside the Duke of Cambridge, High Street, Deptford, on Saturday afternoon, when Jack Fielder and Charley Harris brought a man to me who looked like a bricklayer; they took me to Westcombe Park and showed me a horse, and asked 2l. for it, I gave him 25s. He
said I could leave it there as long as I liked, it had been turned out there for two years. Jack Fielder and Charley Harris were present, and I paid them at Westcombe Park"—I read that to him and he said it was true—Buck told me he had given 25s. for the horse—I went to 35, Bale Street, the same night, at 11.55, saw Fielder, and told him he would be charged with Charles Buck with stealing a horse from Westcombe Park—he said "Me! I did not steal it; Charley Buck bought it of a man who looked like a bricklayer, on Saturday in the Broadway; he gave him 25s. for it. Buck came and called me up this morning, and I went with him to Nicholls's, and he sold it for 26s.; I got 1s. for going with him"—when at the police-station he said "I and Charley Buck were in the Broadway, opposite the Fountain public-house, and a man asked me to buy it of him; I had not got the money, so Buck paid for it. I waited in the Broadway till Buck came, I never went to Westbourne Park with them"—I read that to him and he said it was true—Harris was called before the Magistrate as a witness.
Cross-examined by Buck. You said that you paid him in Westcombe Park, and that Harris and Fielder were present.
Re-examined. Fielder denied going to Westcombe Park.
Buck produced a written defence, stating that Fielder brought a man to him who had a horse for sale for 30s.,and who agreed to take 25s., and he gave him 10s. and promised him the rest on Monday, and sold the horse to Nicholls, giving his name and address as usual, in a book, when horses are sold for killing, and that he believed he bought the horse of the owner. Fielder put in a written statement to the same effect.
Witness for the Defence.
CHARLES HARRIS . I am a hawker—I know both prisoners; I saw Fielder on this Saturday outside the Centurion, High Street, Deptford, and saw a man go up and ask him to buy a horse—he said, "I have no money," and took him to Buck, who said, "I have some money," and they went away together—about an hour and a half afterwards Buck came back with the man, and I saw him give him some money—he told me he gave 20s. for the horse.
By Fielder. I have no idea how much he paid Lim, but I heard him say that he gave the man a half-sovereign in the field when he bought it—I did not hear him say that he went home to fetch 15s. more.
Cross-examined. I left out about the half-sovereign because I forgot it; I also forgot it at the police-court—the man to whom he gave the money was like a bricklayer—I had never seen him before or since, and do not know who he is—I was there when he went up to him; it was between 3 and 4 o'clock—Buck and the man went to the field together, and came back in about a hour and a half—I saw some money pass; I did not hear him say he had been to get the 15s.—he brought the man back with him.
By the COURT. I was there for an hour and a half, because I generally stop there when I have nothing to do.
They then LEADED GUILTY** to previous convictions, Buck on 4th April, 1882, at St. Mary, Newington, and Fielder at Clerkenwell in March, 1875.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted; MR. MOYSES Defended.
After the case had commenced the prisoner expressed his desire to
upon which the Jury found him GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POLAND Prosecuted. GUILTY .— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH GREEN . I am the daughter of Edwin Green, a tobacconist, and live with him at 299, Rotherhithe New Road—on Sunday evening, 2nd May, about a quarter to nine, a man came in for a bottle of ginger beer and tendered a sixpence, which I tried on the slate and took to my father—the man left the shop, my father went after him.
EDWIN GREEN . My daughter brought a sixpence to me; I examined it—there was only a strange man in the shop; he stopped a minute, I looked at him; he went out and I followed him—I saw two others join him farther on—I followed him to the Old Kent Road, where the prisoner joined them—I followed them to Mr. Tabra's shop—I heard them conversing as they went along, but could not catch anything they said—I noticed them pass their hands to and fro very quickly, but I could not discern anything in their hands—the prisoner went into Mr. Tabra's shop—I waited outside for a minute, and then followed him in; he was in front of the counter and Mr. Tabra was serving him—the prisoner had a sixpence in his hand looking at it—I said, "What have you there? Have you a bad one?"—Mr. Tabra said "Yes"—I said, "I have just had one in my shop; I have a good mind to give you in charge"—Mr. Tabra sent for a constable and gave him in charge—the sixpence I had was broken, I sent it to the station; these are the pieces—I lost eight of the man that tendered the coin—the other two went on down the road separately.
ALFRED TABRA . I am a tobacconist, at 564, Old Kent Road—on the evening of the 2nd May the prisoner came in for a pennyworth of tobacco, and tendered a sixpence—I said "Have you any more like this?"—he said "Is it bad?"—I said "I will soon show you"—I put it in the teeter and bent it—the prisoner said "I had it given me last night"—Mr. Green was at the door—I sent for a constable.
where I saw the prisoner, and Mr. Tabra said "This man came into my shop for a pennyworth of tobacco and gave me a sixpence, and I saw it was bad, and I asked if he had got any more, and he said 'No; I had this one given to me last night'"—the prisoner said nothing to that—I took him into custody; he said nothing—when he was asked at the station where he lived he said he lived anywhere when he had got the money—these are the sixpences.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
EMMA WEST . I live at 121, St. James's Road—on 21st May, about 8.30 a m., I was at my brother's coffee-house, 98, St. James's Road, when the prisoner came in for a pennyworth of tea and two slices of bread and butter, which came to twopence altogether—I served him, and he gave me this half-crown—I took it to my sister in the kitchen at the back of the shop, and then went to a neighbour with it, and then came back—I had no conversation with the prisoner.
CHARLOTTE WEST . I am the wife of Thomas West and sister-in-law of the last witness, and live at 98, St. James's Road, a coffee-house—about 20 minutes to 9 on 21st May I was in the kitchen—the little girl brought me this half-crown—I bit it and marked it—I said I did not think it was good, and sent her to a neighbour with it—I spoke to her only just inside the kitchen-door—the prisoner could see us speaking—he sat in his seat till she went out with the half-crown, and then he got up and went out without waiting for his change or eating his bread and butter—I went into the shop, and followed him and stopped him under the railway arch—I said "You have given me a bad half-crown"—he said "You have made a mistake"—I said "I can make no mistake; there was no one else in the shop"—he asked me to forgive him, and said "Forgive me this time; the first time"—he said he was only a poor working man, with a wife and two children—I said "I am only a poor woman, with four children"—he offered me sixpence in payment; I would not take it—he made a move; I held him by the collar of his coat and his sleeve, and said I would lock him up—he threw his arm up; I don't know if he intended to get away or not—I took hold of the neck of his guernsey, and held on—I could see a policeman coming—when the policeman came I gave him the half-crown, and told him the prisoner had given it to me—I believe the prisoner uttered a bad half-crown in January to me, but I am not certain.
SAMUEL EDWARDS (Policeman M 77). I saw the last witness holding on to the prisoner by his collar and cuff—she would not let him go till some time after I had hold of him, and now and then gave him a shake up by the collar—she said, "He has given me this half-crown, and I have no doubt in my own mind he has given me some before"—I said, "You have heard what she says?"—he did not speak for about five
minutes—he turned very white—after a time he said, "She has made a mistake"—I said, "Have you any more about you?" he said "No, I have got a shilling in good money, and a halfpenny"—I said, "You must come to the station with me," and he walked to the station and never spoke a word—at the station he gave his address 11, Gaspin Street, Church Street, Camber well New Road—at the station all he said was that Mrs. West had made a mistake—I found two good sixpences and a halfpenny on him.
Cross-examined. You did not say to me that you did not know the piece was bad.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, stated that he must have received the money in payment from his ganger at the docks; that he went out of the shop because he saw some friends passing, and that he had only gone a few yards when the woman seized him, and that he then offered to pay for what he had had.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
GEORGE WORLAND . I am a barman at the St. George's Tavern, kept by Mr. Taylor—on 13th May, about a quarter past 8, the prisoner came in for a email lemonade and tendered a half-crown, which I bent in my fingers—I told him it was bad—I asked him if he had any more—he said yes—I meant good money—he gave me another shilling, which I bent in the same way and found to be bad—I called for the landlord, jumped over the counter and locked the door, and sent for a constable—Edwin Smith, the other potman, came to my assistance—in my presence Smith picked up these two half-crowns from the prisoner's feet—I gave all three half-crowns and the shilling to the police.
EDWIN SMITH . I was called by last witness on this evening—I jumped over the counter; as I did so I thought I heard something drop—I pushed the prisoner on one side and found these two bad coins under hit feet.
WILLIAM LAWS (Policeman L 44). The prisoner was given into my charge—I said to the prisoner, "I shall have to search you"—he said, "All right"—I found five sixpences in his right-hand vest pocket, and 1s. 4d. in bronze in his right-hand coat pocket, two counterfeit shillings in his right-hand vest pocket; that makes six coins altogether, three half-crowns and three shillings—at the station he was asked his name, and said "Arthur Wyld"—he was asked his address, and said, "I refuse it"—I further searched him at the station and took this paper from him.
(This stated that Messrs. Robert John Rose and Company, grocers and tea dealers, of the Whitechapel Road, had employed a man named Haggis, and found him honest.) The prisoner said, when I took the paper from him, "Be careful with that, this is my proper name."
The prisoner in his defence said that he picked the money up, and that he did not know it was bad.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
GEORGE LEE . I am a card maker, living at Garrett Lane, Wandsworth—on 16th May I was at Dunse Hill, Wands worth, about 11.15 p.m.—four men attacked me and knocked me down—the prisoners are three of them—Smith hit me in the mouth, the others held me round the neck and stole my watch—they ran away—I ran after them and caught Doyle and Reed—the girl Chester was about 80 yards off—I told a constable—I gave a description of Smith.
CHARLOTTE CHESTER . I am single, living at 3, Wardour Street, Wandsworth—I was with Lee at Dunse Hill, Wandsworth, on 16th May, about 80 yards ahead—I saw his chain hanging down—I went back with Lee—I saw Reed and Doyle—Lee went for a policeman.
JOHN MACKENZIE (Policeman V 289). On 16th May I was on duty in Garrett Lane, Wandsworth—Lee made a complaint to me, in consequence of which I went near to Earlsfield Station—I saw Doyle and Chester—I took Doyle into custody—Reed ran away—I told Doyle to consider himself in my custody for being concerned with three others in knocking the prosecutor down—he said "I was there, but did not touch him"—I brought him to the station—Reed came to the station about 4.30 on 17th and asked if he was wanted; I was sent for from the Court, and told him he was—I identified him as the man who ran away—the charge was read to him—he said "I do not know anything about the watch"—I took Smith into custody at 8.45 a.m. on the 18th, in a van—I told him I should take him on suspicion of being concerned with other men in knocking a man down and robbing him of him watch—he said "I do not know anything about it, I was not there"—I had seen him come out of the Halfway House the night this occurred, in company with others, about 11 p.m.—the prosecutor was trembling with fear, but quite sober.
Cross-examined by Doyle. Chester was not with Doyle when he came to me.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
677. MICHAEL BOWEN CAREY (24) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully attempting to obtain three suits of clothes and other other articles by false pretences, also to stealing a cheque-book, the property of George Moss Brock Arnold, also to forging and uttering a request for the payment of 12l. 10s., having been previously convicted.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted.
—on Saturday night, May 8th, I shut my front sitting-room window about 11.80, and went to bed at a little before 1 o'clock—shortly afterwards I heard a noise, went downstairs, and found the police there, my sitting-room window open, and the hall fanlight broken—I missed this cloak, which was near the sitting-room window when I went to bed, also a portrait album.
HENRY GEORGE GILL (Policeman L 121). On 9th May, about 1 a.m., I was passing Mr. Oakley's house and found all secure—I went back about 25 minutes afterwards and found the shutter of the front window open, and the glass in the fanlight broken, and the window wide open.
LEWIS JACKSON (Policeman WR 10). On 10th May, about 1.15, I met the prisoner in Wandsworth Road, 200 or 300 yards from the Albert Embankment, carrying this coat over his arm—I asked what he was carrying—he said "A coat"—I said "Where did you get it?"—he said "I picked it up at Vauxhall"—I said "I don't believe your statement, I shall take you to the station"—he said "I bought it at a coffee-stall for a shilling"—he was charged at the station with the unlawful possession—he made no reply.
WILLIAM NEW (Detective L). On 10th May I examined the prosecutor's premises—I found the fanlight broken, but no one could get in there—the window had been opened by forcing back the catch with a knife—I found marks on the catch, and the woodwork was broken—on the 17th I told the prisoner he would be charged with burglary—he said "I know nothing about it; you can do as you like."
GUILTY .†— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. DOUGLAS Prosecuted.
JOHN HURREN . I am a lather, of 14, Garden Hill—the prisoner and her husband lived in a room above mine—on Saturday, May 9th, they were going on the whole evening, and about 12.30 I went up to the landing and knocked at their door, which was rather open—they both came, and I said to the prisoner "Are we going to have any sleep?"—he said "Yes, Jack, we are going to bed"—the prisoner had a lighted lamp in her hand, and as I was going downstairs she threw it at me, and it set my coat and waistcoat and shirt on fire (produced)—Mr. Whitehorn pulled my coat off and threw it into the street—the flames played about my head and singed my hair—I was taken to the hospital, and was there a fortnight.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not call your husband names or want to fight him, we have always been the best of friends up to that night—I did not hit him—I did not call you a b—Irish cow and say I would break your b—head and your jaw—I did not bring another man to fight as well—the lamp was not knocked off the mantelpiece through my fighting with your husband, nor did the three of us fall with the lamp under us—I never went into your room.
By the COURT. The noise had been going on about two hours before I went up—the prisoner brought the lamp out of her room.
going to be any peace that night, and when he got down three stairs she threw the lamp at his head and he ran down all in a blaze—I dragged him down, dragged his coat off, and threw it into the street—he ran into the kitchen and put the flames out with a basket—I put my handkerchief round his head and sent him to the hospital—the noise in the house had been going on for a fortnight—Hurren had no boots on—he and Brooks were the best of friends, he did not call them any names.
Cross-examined. I did not go into your place when you had no light—I did not call you an Irish cow, or try to drag you downstairs—I did not break the cups and saucers—I never put my foot inside you room.
FRANCIS ALWRIGHT (Policeman B). I went to this house and found the stairs saturated with paraffin, and the paint at the top of the stairs scorched and burnt—I went into the prisoner's room and said I should take her for assaulting Hurren with a lighted paraffin lamp—she said "What did he want to come up here for?"—this lamp and waistcoat were handed to me—the room was in great disorder—she told me that a woman had broken the things after the disturbance took place—the neighbours are all against her.
Cross-examined. Your table was turned over and a lot of crockery broken—there were pieces of meat on the bed and on the floor—you said that the things were broken after the assault.
JOHN WILLIAMSON . I am house surgeon at the Richmond Hospital—Hurren was brought there on Sunday morning, the 9th, with two incised scalp wounds, one was very long, they were done by some sharp instrument—he had a burn on each shoulder, his forearm was burnt and also the back of his neck—he was about a fornight in the hospital—I smelt paraffin about him.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
ADJURNED TO MONDAY, JUNE 28TH, 1886.