CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
HANSON, MAYOR. THIRD SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two start (**) 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, January 10th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. COCK, Q.C., Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted.
HENRY WILLIAM PALEY . I live at 8, Bridport Street, Blandford square, and am a musician—on Friday, 12th November, I saw in the prisoner's pork butcher's shop window in Manchester Road, Poplar, a newspaper cutting similar to this, with an ink mark round the word "Sausages"—I read it, and one or two other men were there too, I believe. (The newspaper cutting was to the effect that William Patterson, a pork butcher, of 160, Commercial Road, had been sentenced to 14 days' hard labour for having on his premises meat unfit for food.)
WALTER HARRIS . I live at 94, Manchester Road, poplar—on 12th November I saw a newspaper cutting in the prisoner's shop window between 12 and 1 o'clock, and again about 6 p.m.; I read it—this is a Similar cutting—I saw the defendant himself outside his shop at o'clock cleaning the window, and I should say he must have seen the cutting in the window then.
Cross-examined. I swear I saw you outside your shop between 12 and 1 o'clock.
WILLIAM PATTERSON . I live at 95, Manchester Road, Poplar, and am a pork butcher in the same line of business as the prisoner—we live right opposite one another—this report refers to me; I had 14 days for possessing bad meat—I saw the cutting in the prisoner's window.
Witness for the Defence.
WILLIAM ESSEN . When this was stuck in the window between 12.30 and I you were at the back of the shop—you did not clean the window—it was taken out about 9.30—I put it in the window, you knew nothing about it—when you knew of it you gave me notice immediately.
Cross-examined. Nobody cleaned the window on 12th November—if anybody says he saw my master outside the window with a duster, that is untrue—I did not think there was anything wrong in the paper I put in the window; I read and understood it—I did not know it referred to the Patterson opposite, I thought it was the Patterson in the Commercial Road, a different man altogether.
WILLIAM PATTERSON (Re-examined by the COURT). After this matter had been taken notice of I applied to my solicitor, and requested him to write and ask for reasonable damages to be paid to me—the prisoner then came over to my shop and said he was very sorry it had happened, but he would do nothing else—I only asked him to pay for the lawyer's letter—he said he would do nothing, I could do my best or my worst—I received this letter from the prisoner. (This offered an apology, and stated that he was not aware till the evening that the paper had been in his window.) Essen had been in my employment, but knew nothing of my conviction—I had been in business in the Commercial Road.
NOT GUILTY .
138. THOMAS SMITH (21) to maliciously wounding Charles Cardnell to prevent his lawful apprehension and with intent to cause grievous bodily harm, after a conviction of felony in August, 1886.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
140. ALFRED SMITH (18) to burglary, with others unknown, in the dwelling-house of John Solomon Bates, and stealing cigars, a coat, and other articles, his and money.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 10th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
141. ROBERT HARVEY (17) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering a counterfeit half-crown to Edith Purchase. He received a good character.— Judgment respited . He PLEADED NOT GUILTY to the fourth count of the same indictment for uttering a counterfeit florin to Florence McDonald, and MR. CRAWFORD, for the prosecution offered no evidence on this Count.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and WILKINSON Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
ELIZABETH WATKINS . I am barmaid at the Crown public-house, 64, Cleveland Street, St. Pancras—on 6th December, about 4 p.m., the prisoner came in with a young man and called for some liquor, price 4d., and tendered a sovereign; I put it on a shelf where there was no other coin and gave him 19s. 8d. change, and they left—the landlady spoke to me at 5 o'clock and I looked at the coin and found it was bad—this is it (produced)—between 7 and 8 o'clock the same evening the prisoner came again with a young man, who called for some rum and some whisky; I served the rum, and while the landlady was serving the whisky the young man knocked over the rum, and as I was getting something to wipe it up I saw the prisoner standing behind a partition—I spoke to the landlady, and then said to the prisoner "Are you aware you gave mo a sovereign this afternoon?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Are you aware what it was?"—he said "Yes; I will come round and speak to you"—he then ran away, and the young man went out of the bar at the same time; the landlady and the potman followed them—I gave the sovereign to the constable at the police-station—the rum and whisky were not paid for.
Cross-examined. I can't say how far Fitzroy Square is from our house because I have only been there six weeks—it is a rule when gold is taken across the counter to put in on the mantelpiece—I was very busy and did not notice this coin—on the first occasion they did not holt out of the house the moment I gave them, the change; they remained about half an hour—no one was serving except me—there were other customers in the bar with them, but they could not see the money tendered across the counter, because they were up in a corner—in the evening they came into the private bar which I attended to—the coin was not like this when I got it, the gilding has been rubbed off the edge since.
Re-examined. They left on the second occasion without drinking the rum; the conversation took place and then they ran out.
WILLIAM JONES . I am potman at the Crown public-house, Cleveland Street—on 6th December, between 7 and 8 p.m., I saw the prisoner there—I did not see him come in—he was standing in the middle of the private bar; I saw no one else with him—I did not hear the conversation—about 7.20 I saw him run out—the landlady spoke to me, and she and I followed them—the prisoner went up London Street, and the other man up Cleveland Street—we followed the prisoner about 200 yards, and I caught him outside the Yorkshire Grey, at the corner of London Street, and said "I want you for changing counterfeit coin in the Crown public-house"—I caught him by his left arm, which? was towards the houses—he said "What do you want me for?"—I detained him till a constable came, and the landlady charged him with changing a bad sovereign in her house—before I got up to him I saw him put his hand in his right-hand pocket and wave his arm; that was about 50 yards past the house—it was a dark night.
Cross-examined. He had not got into Fitzroy Square when I overtook him—just beyond where I caught him there was a bit of a bother between two men, and there was a crowd and two policemen—I am
sure I saw the prisoner wave his hand before I caught him—I was examined at the police-court—I then said about his hand being waved—the case was remanded for a week, and I was examined twice—the Magistrate's Clerk read out to me about the man waving his hand—what I swore then was "It was dark at the time when I caught bold of his left arm; he put his right hand into his pocket and waved his arm"—he waved his arm before I caught him—I do not know Constable Pearce; I have not spoken to him about this matter—the constable in charge of this case told me in Court that some counterfeit coin had been picked up in an area, and I then suddenly remembered that the prisoner had waved his hand—I had forgotten it until then; that was the day after—the prisoner had an umbrella in his right hand when he was running—he put his right hand in his waistcoat pocket, I was close enough to see that, but I did not hear anything fall or see anything—No. 51 is in the middle of London Street, right opposite Southampton Street—the two men went into the middle of the bar, so that persons could easily see them; there was no attempt at hiding; the barmaid had an opportunity of seeing them—the landlady was not there then—they were in the house five or ten minutes.
AGNES CLARE . I keep the Crown public-house, Cleveland Street—on 6th December, about 6 p.m., I came into the bar to collect the money, and spoke to the barmaid about a coin supposed to be a sovereign which I found there—I believe this to be it; it was not so much worn then—about 10 minutes to 8 o'clock I was in the bar-parlour, and Miss Watkins spoke to me—I went into the bar and saw the prisoner—he had caught hold of the handle of the door, and was moving out—he said to Miss Watkins "I will come round and speak to you," but he moved to the right instead of the left, where she was—I saw him leave, and followed him with the potman—he ran up London Street—I did not see him stopped, but I gave him in custody, and charged him with passing a counterfeit sovereign at my house in the afternoon—he made no remark—I was close behind him—he held an umbrella in his right hand—I did not see him make any movement with his hands.
ERNEST LILY . I live with my uncle at 51, London Street—on 6th December, about 8 p.m., I was standing on the doorstep; it was a dark night—I saw several men run by and a lady following; they were going towards the public-house—as they passed I heard some money drop do in the area; I could not see who dropped it—I went down into the area, and found two half-crowns, one loose and the other in paper—I took them to my uncle, and in consequence of something he said to me I went down into the area again, and found these eight shillings loose in paper, and I gave them to my uncle also—one shilling was put in and wrapped up, and then another was wrapped in.
ROBERT CORRIE . I am the uncle of the last witness, and he lives with me at 51, London Street, about 30 yards from the public-house at the corner—on 6th December, about 8.15 p.m., my nephew brought me two half-crowns with paper wrapped between them, and then they were wrapped in paper so as to be a parcel—I said something to him, and he went into the area again and brought me eight bad shillings, wrapped in paper, with a piece of paper against each—I gave them to Sergeant Cobb on 8th December—they had been kept separate from the time my nephew brought them to me.
FREDERICK COBB (Detective Sergeant Y). On 7th December Mr. Corrie gave me information, and on the following day he handed me two half-crowns and eight shillings, all counterfeit—there were two packets in one piece of paper; the shillings were wrapped up in pieces of paper, and the half-crowns were under them—I recognise these by the marks I put on them—I handed them on the same night to Sergeant Urquhart.
Cross-examined. This paper was not crumpled up when it left me; it was only in my possession 20 minutes.
WALTER URQUHART (Police Sergeant D). I received two half-crowns and eight shillings from Cobb wrapped in tissue paper; this is it to the best of my belief—I handed them over to Constable Pearce; they were wrapped all together in one piece of paper.
Cross-examined. I cannot identify the paper; it was only in my possession a few minutes.
JOHN PEARCE (Policeman D 330). On 6th December I was on the Fitzroy Square beat, and about 8.15 p.m. Mrs. Clare called me, and said in the prisoner's presence that he had changed a bad sovereign to the barmaid at the Crown, and gave him in charge—he made no reply—I searched him at the station, and found on him 1l. in gold, a half-crown, five separate shillings, and a sixpence, all good—I received this counterfeit sovereign from Miss Watkins—on Wednesday, the 8th, I received two half-crowns and eight shillings from Sergeant Urquhart, which I produce; they were done up in this paper—he gave his address at 24, Weedon Road, Kentish Town, but it is Widdington Road—he gave a correct address in fact.
Cross-examined. He mispronounced the name of the road—there were two hearings at the police-court, one on 7th December and one on 9th December, and on each occasion the potman Jones was examined—I produced this money on the second hearing—I was not in Court on the first occasion—these coins have been sealed up at the police-station with other property—this paper is worn a little more than when it was given to me—I have opened it four times—I had not seen Jones between the two occasions, and I did not have a conversation with him before he went into Court nor when he left the witness-box—I told him counterfeit coin had been found in an area—he asked me how I got possession of it, and I told him, but not before he went into the witness-box, or at the police-court—I did not listen to Jones's evidence—I was in and out of the Court—I have been hero four or five times before in coin cases—the paper was all in pieces when it came to me—there was no paper between one coin and the other.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this coin is counterfeit, and these two half-crowns also; they are from the same mould, and these eight shillings are also counterfeit, and from two or three different moulds.
JOHN PEARCE (Re-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN). The sovereign was found in the prisoner's right-hand waistcoat pocket, and the silver and bronze was in his left trousers pocket—he had an umbrella in his right hand.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction in 1872 of feloniously possessing counterfeit coin.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, January 11th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
143. JOSEPH WILLIAM SMITH (34) PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, letters containing postal orders, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
145. JOHN GARRARD (30) to three indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of money whilst employed in the Post-office, and one for falsification of accounts in the ledger.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. BAGGALLAY and GILL Prosecuted; MR. SALTER defended Knapton, Seymour and Haines.
EBENEZER SCOTT . I am post-office receiver at the office in London Road, Southwark—on 10th December I issued this order (produced) for 1s. upon this requisition form; it has since been altered to 4l. 1s., and the writing has plainly been gone over with a pen—the name of the person on the requisition form asking for the order is "Alexander Duncomb, 14, Lancaster Street, Newington Causeway," and the order is payable to "George Johnson" at the office in Upper Street, Islington—having issued that order I should send an advice on to pay at that office.
FRANCIS WILLIAM SAUNDERSON . I am assistant to Mr. Smith, a pawn-broker, at Upper Street, Islington—on the evening of 10th December, about a quarter to six, I saw the first three prisoners outside the shop looking in the window at a corner case of jewellery; they stayed there two or three minutes and then the woman came in the shop with a baby in her arms and said, "Can you change me a post-office order?"—I said "We don't do such a thing as a rule, you had better go over to the post-office "—she said, "It is too late," she could not get it after four o'clock—I then said I would see what I could do, and she then said "I want to buy an 'Albert' for my husband," and selected one at 7s. 6d., and produced this order with this letter—I took it with the letter and showed it to my employer in the next shop, and we then saw that it had been altered—my master gave me some directions, and I went to the door of the shop and saw the two men in the centre of the pavement looking into the doorway—I came back and said "It is no use taking the woman, as I am sure there are two men outside concerned in it"—I then went outside again and spoke to a policeman, and then went back to the shop, leaving the policeman outside—I then asked the woman her name and address, and I think she said "Mary Titcomb, John Street, Liverpool Road "—an assistant in the shop named Dodd then asked the woman in my presence, "Do you know the two men outside?"—she said, "No, this order was given to mo by a gentleman outside to get cashed, and he was going to give me 10s."—at that point two constables came into the shop with Knapton and Seymour, and the woman turned round to Seymour as if she knew him and said, "This was given me outside by a man
get cashed"—Seymour frowned at her and said, "I never saw you before, I never saw you before "—they were then taken off to the station.
Cross-examined. I have told all that was said; I paid careful attention to it—my shop window was lighted up and was full of things, and the prisoners were looking at them like intending purchasers—the policeman said in my presence to the prisoners "You will have to come to the station to see about this order that has been altered."
CHARLES REED (Policeman N 221). I was on duty in Upper Street, Islington, and was spoken to by the last witness, in consequence of which I went with Police-constable Crofts to Mr. Smith's shop and saw Knapton and Seymour walking up and down together outside—I seized Seymour and said to him," I want you a minute "—he said "What for?"—I said "I will tell you presently "—I then took him into the shop where the woman was, and he turned round to the woman and said "I know nothing at all about this woman "—she said "I know nothing about this man; a gentleman gave me this near the Angel"—I then took him outside, and French then coming up, the woman was handed over to him, and the three then went to the station—I there charged them with being concerned together in forging and attempting to utter the order to Mr. Smith—Seymour was the only one who answered and he said, "It is a damned lie"—I searched him and found on him 3l. 10s. in gold and 2s. 3d., also a silver Geneva lady's watch—he was wearing an overcoat which was afterwards seen by Mr. Pullen.
Cross-examined. Knapton gave a correct address.
HENRY CROFT (Policeman N R 50). I went with the last witness to Mr. Smith's shop, and saw Knapton and Seymour outside on the footpath—I took hold of Knapton and he said, "What am I taken for?"—I replied "For being concerned with a woman inside who has tendered a forged post-office order"—he replied "I know nothing"—just as I was entering the shop, he replied "I know nothing of the woman "—I took him to the station, and when he charge was read over to him he said it was a damned lie—I found on him a shilling and 1 3/4 d. in bronze, and a pocket-book containing two envelopes not addressed, which I gave to the Post-office authorities.
Cross-examined. Saunderson told me I was wanted to go to the pawn-broker's, and told me the nature of what they suspected—I was close by when the other constable took Seymour—I did not hear him say "I will tell you presently "—a crowd had gathered round, and Knapton was flurried and wanted to know what he was taken for.
CHARLES FRENCH (Policeman N R 6). I took Haines in custody—on the way to the station she said she thought she was doing no harm in changing the order; a man gave it her by the Angel and asked her to change it for him, and promised her 2s. or 3s.—she also said it was neither of the prisoners who had given it to her.
PHILIP BICK . I am a police constable attached to the General Post-office—on 10th December a communication was made to me with regard to this case, and about midnight I went to Upper Street, Islington, Police-station, and there saw the female prisoner—I said to her "I am a detective officer from the General Post-office; I understand why you have been brought here, and I am told you are desirous of making a statement; you can say what you like to me, but what you say I shall take down in writing, and it may be used in evidence against you"—I then took down
this statement. (Read: "Annie Peace, 23, Little Canterbury Place Lambeth Walk, Lambeth. I have lived there about five weeks. I am single, a cook out of place. I have known the prisoner Seymour for about 14 months; he was working as a gasfitter. The man Knapton I have only known for a short time since I have lived in Lambeth; he in a gasfitter by trade. Seymour came home one day, he knocked me about, I had black-eyes. He brought an order to me one day; it was made out I believe for 19s. He asked me to go and get it cashed. I said Where did you get it?' and he said 'Mind your own business.' I eventually took the order from him and got it cashed at a tradesman's, but I cannot now say what one it was. About a week after that he brought home another order. I took that and got it cashed in the same way, but I cannot give the name and address of the person I cashed it with. In cases where I got goods I handed them to Seymour, and he went and sold them. I also gave him the cash I got in exchange for the orders. I should think that altogether I have gut rid of about six orders, all of which I have got from Seymour. A man lodging at a common lodging-house in Tufton Street has, I believe, got the orders at the post-offices. He has called at the house we were living at in Lambeth on several occasions and asked for Seymour, and the latter has asked him to come into the room. I have usually gone out with the child on those occasions, so did not hear what was said. The man in question is named Evans; he is about 40; he is tall, tuft on chin, and moustache turning grey. I saw him yesterday, he was out with Seymour; they went about 1 p.m., and Seymour came back alone. I first saw Evans when I was out with Seymour one day in Westminster. I have always known Seymour by that name. The order produced was brought into the house by Seymour about midday to-day (Friday). We had a row because I would not fetch some more beer for him, and he knocked me about after dinner. About 4 p.m. he told me to get the child ready as he wanted me to go out with him. I did so, and we all went out together. Shortly afterwards we came to Islington, and when we got to the Angel he handed me the order and the letter, and pointed out the shop of Mr. Smith and told me to go in and get it cashed. I did so, and Seymour waited outside, as he has always done when I have gone to cash the orders. We met the prisoner Knapton in a street before we got to the Angel; he did not appear to be waiting. He walked on in front with Seymour, and I could not hear what was said, but Knapton could hear what Seymour said when he handed me the order. Knapton has been with Seymour on about two previous occasions when he has handed me the orders.") I read this over to her and then said "You didn't tell me that Knapton was at your house to-day"—she said "No, you didn't ask me; he was there, and he and Seymour went out together."
Cross-examined. She told me that Knapton frequently visited there—I did not towards the end of the statement put questions more particularly as to Knapton; in the former part of it nothing was said about him—I asked a few questions about him and what she knew of him—I have made no inquiries about Knapton, my colleague has.
Cross-examined by Evans. She gave me that statement quite willingly.
there saw Evans, and said to him, "I am a detective attached to the General Post-office, and I am instructed to see you in regard to a number of post-office orders which have been taken out for 1s. each and altered to larger amounts, and negotiated by two men, Knapton and Seymour, and a woman named Haines"—he said, "Yes, I know them, and have taken out a number of money orders for 1s. each for them, from instructions that I have received from Seymour, Knapton being generally present; I have always given the orders to Seymour, I have never had any of the proceeds more than a glass of ale which I have been treated to for getting them; I know nothing of what they did with them"—I then produced two money order requisition forms which I had obtained from the post-office in London Road, Southwark, one of which relates to the money order which, was changed at Mr. Smith's, the other relates to another order—he said, "They are in my handwriting "—I then showed him the forged order, and he said that the money orders which he had taken out for the requisition forms he had handed to Seymour—I then told him that I should take him in custody and charge him with being concerned with the other three in forging and uttering post-office orders—he said, "I am innocent."
Cross-examined. This statement was not given in answer to questions, and I have not put it into writing, I have given my general recollection of what occurred at the interview—I have made inquiries about Knapton, and find that he has not been in any trouble before—his wife told me that there was an allowance made from a relative in Dublin to her daughter as an annuity—he has been in employment up to 12 months ago, since then he has done nothing—this pocket-book contains names and addresses of persons connected with the gas-fitting business in connection with Humphreys' Iron Works—all these letters are addressed to him in the name of Knapton, and are business letters—I am aware he has been conducting a sort of agency for getting work for men in the gas-fitting business who are out of employment.
Re-examined. He was employed last at the Cadogan Iron Works, and left there in December, 1885—I have ascertained that Knapton and Seymour are father and son—I did not take the statement down in writing, but I went before the Magistrate next morning and gave it as I have given it here to-day.
MARGARET SMITH . I am the wife of Henry Alfred Smith, of 5, Brunswick Villas, Grosvenor Park, Camberwell, and was employed at the branch post-office of the Westminster Palace Hotel—this requisition form and order for 1s. were issued by me on 26th November, and are payable to Walter Fry at Sand's End, Fulham, and is sent by Arthur Jackson, of 12, Church Street—I made out the order payable at Stanley Bridge, Sand's End, Fulham—it has now been altered to 14l. 1s.—I made out the corresponding advice, which was sent to the Stanley Bridge office.
Cross-examined. I should not like to say for certain who handed me the requisition, he was rather a young man.
GEORGE FRYER . I live at 616, King's Road, Chelsea, and am manager to Charles Pullen, a pawnbroker—on 27th November, between 8 and half-past in the evening, this order (produced) was presented to me by the female prisoner, who asked me whether I could cash it for her—I said "Yes," and she then said she wanted to purchase one or two things—she
said it was too late at the post-office—she produced this letter with the order: "Madam, your uncle's demise I am sorry to tell you of, by way of showing my sorrow I enclose you P. O. O. for 4l. 1s., the 1s. being to cover discount or other charges. Please acknowledge the receipt of same, and let me know if you are able to attend the interment. James Wilson, engineer"—I gave her cash for the order and took the 1s. for discount as suggested in the letter—she purchased this overcoat for her husband, and Seymour was wearing it at the police-court, and I identified it—I knew the woman by sight before.
Cross-examined. She had been in my place before—I have not seen her in company with Knapton.
JAMES GEORGE WHITE . I am foreman of the gasfitters in the employment of the railway fitters at the South-Western Railway, Waterloo—I know the two men at the end of the dock in the names of William Henry Knapton and Walter Knapton, the son—they were both in the employment of the South-Western Railway Company as gasfitters; Walter Knapton left in June, 1883, and William Henry Knapton in May, 1885—the son had been with me about nine months, and the father about two years and six months—I have time sheets at the works, and I produce some of them showing the son's time and his signature to it.
CHARLES JAMES STEVENS . I am senior clerk in the confidential inquiry branch of the General Post-office—I have had considerable experience in comparison of handwriting—on 10th December, when these people were in custody, I received the letter that had been handed to Mr. Saunderson, and on the same night I saw Seymour and showed it to him with the order, and after telling him I came from the Post-office I said "Do you wish to give any explanation as to why you have been brought here? I have just seen the woman Haines and she says that she received this order and letter from you, and that the letter is in your handwriting; the letter is similar to several I have at the Post-office in the same handwriting"—the prisoner replied "I admit that is in my handwriting"—that was the one handed to Mr. Saunderson—I said "If you wrote this one you wrote them all"—he replied "You are assuming that"—I said "There can be no mistake, they are all in the same handwriting "—I have compared the letter admitted to be in his handwriting with the letter produced to Mr. Bullen's assistant, and there is no doubt whatever that they are in the same handwriting—I have also seen the writing on these pay sheets, and also these requisition forms upon which the 1s. post-office orders were issued—they are in the same handwriting, but it is not Seymour's, it is Evans' writing.
JANE BROOKS . I am the wife of Albert Saunders; Brooks, and live at 23, Little Canterbury Place, Lambeth—about 15th Nov. Haines came to my place; she said she had come from Yorkshire and that her husband was a gas-fitting engineer—she took a furnished back room on the first floor, and then went away to bring her box, and said she was going to meet her husband at Waterloo Station, coming from work—she said he was employed at the South-Western Station—later in the day she came back in company with two men, who brought her box, and they all went upstairs—later she said "I don't know your name, but my name is Seymour; "I said "My name is Brooks "—I don't know when the elder Knapton left, but I should think they had tea—he came next morning—Seymour and the woman lived in the house as man and wife up to the
time they were taken in custody—I don't think the elder Knapton missed coming a morning during the whole time they were there—I can't say whether they had their meals in the house—they seemed to live comfortably—he did not do any work, as the woman said he was an invalid, and that they got their money from two sick clubs—I have seen the two men go out together twice—Evans came to the house about the second week I think, and asked for Mr. Seymour; he was not in, and he went away and came back again, and Mrs. Seymour then said "Come up into the room"—he came there frequently during the three weeks, and the last week before the arrest he was there every morning, I should think—I only saw Knapton, Seymour, and Evans go out together once; they have been in the house together, but I can't say how often—on the afternoon of the 10th, about 4 p.m., the day of the arrest, I saw Knapton and Seymour coming out of the Cock and Bottle public-house—I can't call to mind whether I had seen Evans there in the morning—the woman was at home when I left home a few minutes previously—that was the last I saw of them until they were in custody—after they were in custody I showed one of the policemen their room, and he took away property from there, but none of mine—they found this stationery with the deep black edging.
Cross-examined. Knapton was a constant visitor—I think he occasionally had a meal with them; he did not sleep there that I know of—I supposed when the woman told me about the clubs that it referred to her husband and herself, he had had three accidents—I didn't notice whether they frequently went out together because they had a key.
Cross-examined by Evans. You came about 12 o'clock in the morning, and once or twice you came in the afternoon.
By the COURT. The rent was 6s. a week, it was all paid but the last week, and that was not completed.
WALTER HIRST (Re-examined). I went to Mrs. Brook's house on Saturday evening, the 11th, and the prisoners' room was shown me by Mrs. Brooks—I found in it a number of articles, consisting of mantles and dresses, some of which have been identified—I also found 20 pawntickets, in various names and in different parts of London, and also this black-bordered stationery, which was laid on the table ready for writing—I searched Knapton's house, but found nothing there—Upper Street, Islington, is about a quarter of a mile from Southampton Street.
Evans's Defence. I have nothing to say more than I am entirely innocent of what I am charged with. I was working with these two men, and he asked me to go and get these orders and I went and got them, and I did not know anything till the policeman told me.
Knapton received a good character.
SEYMOUR and HAINES— GUILTY . Haines was strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Haines then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in 1884. SEYMOUR— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour . HAINES— Six Months' Hard Labour.
KNAPTON and EVANS— NOT GUILTY .
MR. BAGGALLAY, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BAGGALLAY and GILL Prosecuted; MR. LETHIBY Defended.
JOHN DOUBLEDAY . I am a clerk in the Confidential Inquiry branch of the General Post-office—in consequence of numerous letters being lost at the Putney office I was instructed to investigate the matter—I made up a test letter addressed to Mrs. Bass, 18, Sefton Street, Putney, an empty house—if a letter carrier cannot deliver a letter, it is his duty to return it to the overseer—I put into the letter throe postal orders for 1l. 10s., and 3s. 6d.—this is the letter—I posted it at noon on 9th December—the address was within the prisoner's district—the letter would come into his delivery at 1.40 that day—finding that the letter did not come back to the office, on the 11th I saw the prisoner at Putney in the presence of Constable Beck—I said to him "I posted a letter on the 9th December at 12 o'clock at noon, addressed to Mrs. Bass, 18, Sefton Street, Putney; it is an empty house, and it was your duty to return that letter to the overseer on your return to the office; what did you do with it?"—he said "I remember the letter; I believe I handed it to the overseer with the other undeliverable letters on my return to the office with the 5.55 collection"—I said "Mr. Dodson did not receive it"—he said "Then I must have left it in my bag"—he would carry a bag on his delivery in the ordinary course—I said "Are you sure you did not put it in your pocket?"—he said "No; I never put letters in my pocket"—the constable afterwards brought me this letter; it was unopened—he said he had found it in the pocket of the prisoner's coat or tunic at his lodging—I cannot say whether the tunics have inside or outside pockets—this other letter was produced at the same time; it is addressed to the editor of the Wandsworth and Putney Observer—that letter was open, and the cover was partially torn; at the same time a portion of a cover was handed to me, bearing two stamps, not obliterated—I asked the prisoner how he accounted for the possession of that letter—he said "A little boy handed me the letter, and said he had picked it up in the street; the letter was then open"—I said "Why did not you deliver it or hand it to the overseer?"—he said "Because I was afraid I should get into trouble on account of the letter being open"—the stamps on the letter were dated the 25th November—I asked him if he knew the boy that gave him the letter—he said "No"—when he was spoken to about Mrs. Bass's letter having been found in his pocket, I asked him if he had any other explanation to offer—he said "I must have left it there accidentally"—I gave him into custody—I afterwards opened the, letter; the contents were intact—I believe I did not tell him who I was—I am told I did not, but I was under the impression I had done so.
Cross-examined. I have been in my present position since May last—this is the first case I have personally conducted—I acted at first on my own responsibility, and afterwards reported the circumstances to my superiors—the letter was perfectly intact, presumably he could not have known what was inside—I believe there are means of testing the contents of a letter by feeling; I have heard of such a thing—as to the second letter, it was after a little hesitation that he said it was handed to him in the street.
prisoner has been employed there as a suburban postman two or Three years, part of that time, he was only recently promoted—on 9th December he was a letter carrier; he would have a bag to carry his Letters, as he delivered on the Parkfield Walk at 1.45 that day—a letter addressed to Mrs. Bass would be within that delivery—if the house was empty it would be his duty to return the letter to me, or place it in the cage after endorsing it; there is a cage for that purpose; it is not always used; sometimes they give them to me—a man on duty would wear a postman's tunic with an outside breast pocket; there was no inside pocket that I am aware of—I had received instructions with regard to this letter, and on his return I was on the look-out to see whether he would hand it to me—he did not do so, nor did he put it in the cage—I have seen the other letter addressed to the editor of the Wandsworth and Putney Observer—that would be in the prisoner's delivery on the following morning.
Cross-examined. I always found him satisfactory, he has done his duty well, I never had any cause to complain of him—he had a large number of letters to deliver daily, his duty comprised a large circle—I think undelivered letters are generally returned the same day; I could not answer that question positively; I took no particulars notice—I should not be surprised if a letter was handed in afterwards—the duty began to increase in December—the letter to the editor of the Observer had come in by the last collection the night previous—I know that by the stamp—new tunic are generally served out to the men on 19th November—the prisoner was ill about that time, and did not resume duty till the 22nd.
Re-examined. There had been a lot of complaints in the office of the loss of letter.
PHILIP BICK . I am a constable attached to the General Post-office I was present on Saturday, 11th December when Mr. Doubleday saw the prisoner—I searched his lodging and found this letter addressed to Mrs. Buss in the breast pocket of a post-office tunic—I can't distinctly Remember whether it was an outside or inside pocket—the letter had not Been tempered with—I afterwards found this other letter in the breast pocket of a uniform overcoat in the same room among a number of letters addressed to the prisoner—it was then open as it now appears—I took the prisoner to Bow Street—the Inspector read the charge to him—he said "I did not steal the one with the postal orders in it"—he had been told by Mr. Doubleday that the letter contained postal orders.
Cross-examined. I could not say whether the tunic in which I found the letter was a new one—I won't say it was an inside pocket.
REV. ROBERT RICHARD DUKE . I live at St. John's Lodge, Kingston vale—on 25th November I posted this letter addressed to the editor of the Wandsworth and Putney Observer between 7 and 8 in the evening, it only contained an advertisement.
Cross-examined. I have a letter box built in the front wall—no one has access to the office but my son—I have known the prisoner four or five years, he has been in the habit of sending me little items of news—I always found him a sober honest man.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
There were two other indictments against the prisoner, one for stealing a post letter and for unlawfully detaining another letter, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
149. WILLIAM DUNCAN CAMERON (29) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a coat of Tom Bird, also a milk jug, a tobacco pouch of Charles Nicholson Lailey, also to three other indictments for stealing other articles the property of other persons.— Judgment respited.
150. ARTHUR FOSTER (33) to four indictments for feloniously forging and uttering orders for the payment of 5, 200l., also to personating the person entitled to receive the sum of 2, 100l., also to unlawfully obtaining 5, 200l. by false pretences. He received a good character.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude . And
151. ELLEN GOODWIN (18) to stealing 1l. 10s. of Mary Kelcher, also a gold brooch value 1l. 1s. of Constance Buckley, and a ring value 5s. of Henry Buckley, also to having committed wilful and corrupt perjury before a Police Magistrate.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, January 11th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
MARY THOMAS . I am barmaid at the Pelican Hotel, All Saints Road, North Kensington, kept by my brother, Frederick Thomas—on 23rd December, about 4.30, I was in the bar by myself and the prisoner came in with Newman—Leach said "Have you got a half-sovereign for nine shillings, sixpence, and sixpennyworth of coppers?"—I gave him one, and he gave me the nine shillings and sixpence and sixpence in pence, which I put into the till—he then said "Will you give me a half-crown for a two shilling piece and sixpennyworth of coppers, which he gave me, and I gave him a half-crown—I put the florin where I took the half-crown from, putting a sixpence on the top to make the half-crown right—the money I gave him was good—Leach then called for a glass of port, three cigars, and a glass of bitter, which came to 1s. 2d.—he gave me a half-crown—the port was for Newman and the bitter for Leach—about ten minutes afterwards Leach called for the same drink as before, and cigars, and paid again with a half-crown and I gave him 1s. 4d. change—Leach then called for a glass of port, and asked me if I should like a glass of port—I said "I don't care for it"—he asked me again, and I had it—he asked the potman to have a glass of beer, which he did, and Leach paid with a half-crown—some change was given to him, but I cannot say what—I put the three half-crowns together on the top of the till—Leach then left, and Newman remained and called for a glass of port, and threw down a half-crown—I tried it between my teeth and in the detector, found it bad, and returned it to him, and he paid with a good sixpence, and left—I then looked at the three half-crowns on the till, found they were bad, and spoke to the potman, who went out—I gave the coins to my brother; these (produced)
are them—last Sunday week I went to the station and picked out Leach from I dare say half a dozen others.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I gave a description to the police of the man who was with Newman—I said that he was thin and delicate-looking, rather dark, with a high hat and a black coat, trimmed with blach astrachan—I was not half a second before I identified you—I had not got in at the door—my suspicions were not aroused because I did not believe Newman, our customer, would bring a fellow in to pase bad coin—Newman's presence disarmed me; I had never seen you before—I was serving customers, and going to the till frequently, but I took no half-crowns except from you two—you were there about an hour—I was serving only a couple of yards from the till—the drink came to 1s. 2d. at a time—you did not change the half-crown I gave you; you put it in your pocket.
HENRY DARVILLE (Policeman D 85). On 2nd January, about 8 p.m., I took Leach, and told him it was on suspicion of being concerned with Thomas Newman in. uttering counterfeit coin—he said "You are mistaken"—I placed him with four or five others at the station, and Mary Thomas came in, walked straight up to him, and said "That is the man"—he was dressed as he is now—he said "How do you know me? how do you identify me?"—she said "By uttering three bad half-crowns to me at the Pelican Hotel"—he said nothing to that, and made no answer to the charge.
Cross-examined. She came in alone, but her brother may have followed her in—I did not move and stand opposite you; I was behind the door—you went to the station quietly—I found on you three good shillings and fourpence, no bad money.
By the COURT. I arrested him in Church Street, Lisson Grove, in the open street, from a description which was received from Miss Thomas, and circulated—I said "What is your address?"—he said "43, Great James Street"—I took him in that neighbourhood.
JOHN CADY (Policeman). I have frequently seen the prisoner and Newtman ogether; the last time was on the Monday night before Christmas, three days before this occurred, standing outside the Ben Jonson public-house, Harrow Road; that is within half a mile of the Pelican; they were talking together—Leach wore a black overcoat, with astrachan collar and cuffs, and a high silk hat—that is the only coat I have seen him in this winter—I have seen him in it several times—I have frequently seen them together, and principally at the Red Lion, Edgware Road.
Cross-examined. If I had seen anything wrong in your movements I should have acted—you said "You can always find me at my father's," and I said "It would be indiscreet of me to ask your father for you"—you said "I was always there"—I said "I never saw you," because I had been watching the place ever since I saw your description circulated—I did not know for nine days that you were wanted—I saw Newman in the House of Detention on the 29th, and when I returned to the station I saw your description as wanted for being-concerned with Newman,
and I was in search of you from the 29th till you were arrested—I knew you well by sight—I did not come up on the very day of Newman's trial and speak to him in the cell.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "It is a got-up case against me, and I am innocent."
Prisoner's Defence. No bad money was found on me. My clothing does not resemble the description given. Will you allow me to ask Newman if I was in his company?
The prisoner called—
THOMAS WILLIAM NEWMAN . I am charged with Leach on another indictment, but not in this case—he is not the man who was in my company in the public-house bar—I gave a description of the man at the police-station; Leach does not resemble him; he is not the man—the man who took me in there and treated me, wore a little black coat and an overcoat, but he had it on his arm when I met him, and I cannot say whether it was black curly stuff or not—I have seen him several times at race-meetings; they call him George, and I believe his right name is George Blackburn—I have not lived in the neighbourhood of the Ben Jonson for five years—I am a teetotaler—I have been in trouble I admit—I have never been in Leach's company at the Eed Lion, Edgware Road, but I have known him from a baby, and I know his father and sister.
Cross-examined by MR. CRAUFURD. I know nothing against him; he is a respectable young man—I have not been his constant companion, because he has always been above my degree, too much of a gentleman, and I am a poor man—I did not see him in the course of 1885—I do not mean to say that he was at his father's place from December, 1884, to December, 1885; why should I look after him?—I do not know that he was in trouble at that time—I was 16 years fighting fur my Queen and country.
By the COURT. I was in trouble; six years ago I got twelve months, but I was as innocent as you are—it was for an oil-painting; one I man stole it, and from that day to this I turned over a new leaf and never drank anything till a week before Christmas—Miss Thomas knows me as a regular customer; I backed horses with her brother—I am a bookmaker; I go in for a bottle of ginger-beer and back a horse; I know the potman well, and it is not likely I should go there and pass bad money; my wife stood fifteen years in one place with a stand.
Evidence in reply.
WILLIAM RECORD (Police Sergeant D). I produce a certificate of Leach's conviction, on his own confession, at this Court, on loth December, 1884, of uttering counterfeit coin—he is the man—he was sentenced to twelve months' hard labour.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to the conviction in December, 1884. (See next case.)
MESSRS. CRAUFUED and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
MARY THOMAS . The evidence of this witness was read over to her from the shorthand writer's notes, to which she assented, and added:"I tried Newman's half-crown in the tester and with my teeth, and told him it was bad—he said 'Oh, dear, I must have taken it from Whiteley's'—I said 'Then they ought to have it back'—he said 'Give it to me and take it out of this,' giving me a sixpence, and I gave him the half-crown back—he had frequented the house; I knew him and the potman knew him, but my brother had not seen him—I spoke to the potman, who went out and brought him back—my brother said 'I will charge you with passing my sister bad money; where is the half-crown?'—he said 'I have not got it'—my brother had sent for a policeman, and during that time the prisoner said 'Forgive me, I have a wife and children, and took a handkerchief off of his neck and said 'That will repay you for the three half-crowns; give me them back'—my brother said 'No'—he stayed till a policeman came, and was given in custody with the coins."
FREDERICK THOMAS . My sister said to me in Newman's hearing "Look here, Fred, this man has passed me this half-crown, and is also concerned with another man who has gone out, in passing these three," handing them to me—I said to Newman "What have you done with the bad half-crown which was returned to you?"—he said "I have not got it"—I said in his hearing to the potman "Go and fetch a constable"—Newman said "Give me a chance, governor, I have a wife and family, and it is Christman time; let me go, this will repay you for the three half-crowns," taking a silk handkerchief from his neck and offering it to me—my sister had taxed him with being concerned with the man who uttered them—I gave him in custody with the coins.
HENRY BRICKNELL . I am potman at the Pelican—on 23rd December, between 4 and 5 p.m., Miss Thomas spoke to me, and I went out and saw Newman outside the Metropolitan public-house, 200 yards from the Pelican—I said "Mr. Thomas wants to see you about passing some bad money"—he said "I will go back and see Mr. Thomas"—he did so, and was given in custody.
HERBERT HAMMOND asssented to his former evidence, and added: "Newman Vas given into my custody—I told him he was charged with attempting to pass a bad half-crown, and being concerned with another man in passing three others—he made no reply—I searched him there and then, and found seven pence, three cigars, a knife, and a latch-key—he gave his correct address at the station, 5, Adela Street, Kensal New Town.
Newman, in his defence, stated that Leach was not the man who was with him, but that he met a man who asked him to have some drink, and that he would not have taken the man to a house which he used, had he known he had any bad coin, and that after the man left he passed a half-crown himself which he had taken at Whiteley's, and which he threw away when it was returned to him as bad, and that he did not say anything about giving him back the three half-crowns.
Leach's Defence. "I am innocent; the three pieces cannot be brought against me because I was not in the house."
GUILTY .—LEACH**— Five Years' Penal Servitude . NEWMAN**†— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WALTER QUINTON . I am barman at the Lord Palmerston, High Road, Kilburn—on 27th December, about 6.30 p.m., the prisoners came in and Jewell called for two glasses of bitter ale and one of stout, which came to 6d.; Jewell gave me a shilling—I put the shilling into a cup where there was no other shilling—I dropped one sixpence into the till and gave him another in change—an omnibus driver and conductor then came in and called for some drink and left—Charles Williams then called for an Irish warm and a glass of mild and bitter and one of stout and two bitters, and gave me a. shilling, which I dropped down the shilling compartment into the till, and gave him 2 1/2 d. change—the first shilling was not dropped down—two stouts and some ale were then called for by Williams, who paid with a shilling, and he had a threepenny smoke, for which he paid in coppers—I then left the bar, leaving Griffiths to serve.
Cross-examined by Charles Williams. The shillings were all put into the same till, but into different compartments—the cup of the till was empty, but I could not see what was in the drawer.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. It is a patent till—I do not know what was in it—there are four holes, one for half-crowns, one for florins, one for shillings, and one for sixpences—if we take for three drinks amounting to sixpence we have to take change for two sixpences and put a shilling into a little cup and drop one sixpence down and give sixpence change—if the three purchases amount to above sixpence the shilling is dropped into the till; if not it is put into a cup—there are six cups, and a little cup at the back for farthings—with all that complication we sometimes make mistakes—Jewell passed money first; his order came to sixpence, and his shilling was put into the cup—three of the shillings went into the bowl and one into the till, and perhaps there was one more in the bowl when I went away at 10 minutes to 7—there were not half a dozen.
Re-examined. I was present at 8 o'clock when Mr. Spenceley examined the bowl into which two of the shillings were dropped, and there were two bad shillings in it—the copper is in a bowl and the other five are cups—when we drop a coin into the slot it goes into a drawer below—I dropped one shilling into the drawer and the other two I put into the shilling cup.
CHARLES GRIFFITHS . I am barman at the Lord Palmerston—I took the service of the department from Quinton that evening and found the three prisoners standing at the bar, and shortly afterwards another man came to me for change and I gave him two shillings and a sixpence—I took two shillings out of one cup and sixpence from another—Trower then brought me a bad shilling, which I placed by itself on the crossbar on top of the till and gave him a good one out of the shilling till—Williams then called for two glasses of ale, price 4d., and gave me a shilling—I put it into No. 2, the shilling cup, took two sixpence out of the sixpenny, cup and dropped one of them down the sixpenny hole—Jewell then called for a glass of ale and a 2d. smoke, and paid with a shilling, which
I put into No. 2 cup—Jewell then called for two 2d. smokes and paid with this bad shilling (produced)—I took it to Mr. Spenceley and then went back to the bar and the prisoners were gone; they could see me speak to him—Mr. Spenceley then went to the till and found four bad shillings in the shilling cup—I afterwards saw the prisoners in the Red Lion, three-quarters of a mile off, and gave them in charge.
Cross-examined by Charles Williams. Other people were in the bar, but I cannot say whether I took a shilling from them.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. The Lord Palmerston does a very large trade, and a good many shillings would pass while the prisoners were there—this was Boxing Day—five bad shillings were found in the shilling bowl; I saw Mr. Spenceley take out four of them—I was the only person serving between 7 and 8 o'clock.
JOHN TROWER . I am cellarman at the Lord Palmerston—on 27th December, about 7 p.m., I went to Griffiths for change for a half-crown, and he gave me two separate shillings and a sixpence—I saw the three prisoners there—I found that one of the shillings Griffiths gave me was bad, and showed it to Mr. Spenceley—I then took it back to Griffiths, who gave me a good one for it—after the prisoners were taken to the station I put the second shilling in my pocket, and afterwards put it on a shelf as it was bad, and next morning I gave it to Mr. Spenceley.
----SPENCELEY. I am head barman at the Lord Palmerston—I saw Trower go to Griffiths for change; the shilling was bad and I cautioned Griffiths—at a quarter or 10 minutes to 8 Griffiths showed me a bad shilling—the prisoners had then gone, but I had seen them there—I examined the shilling cup in the till, and found four bad shillings and one good one—that was all that was in that cup—here are six shillings here, I cannot say which of them are the four—there were two shillings in No. 2 cup of the same date as the one Jewell uttered—Trower showed me a bad shilling and I examined the other shillings and they were bad.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. Four bad shillings and one good one were found in the cup—the money in the shilling cup was all good—if a man calls for something price 6d., and a sixpence is tendered, you drop the sixpence through, it is only when change is wanted that you put it in the bowl.
WILLIAM HAYWARD . I am potman at the Lord Palmerston—on December 27th, about 7.30 p.m., I went into the bar and saw the three prisoners there—Jewell said to me "What are you going to have to drink along with me?"—I said "I will have twopennyworth of port wine hot"—that was served, and he paid with a shilling, which Griffiths took up—I left after drinking my wine, and about 8.25 I saw the prisoners at the Red Lion.
ALICE DENNY . I am housemaid at the Lord Palmerston—on 27th December, between 7 and 8 p.m., I was in the bar parlour, and looked through a window into the bar, and saw the prisoners there—I saw Annie Williams pass money to Charles Williams—I could see that it was silver.
HENRY FEAKES (Policeman NR 13). On 27th, 'December, about 8.30 p.m., Griffiths called me to the Red Lion, Kilburn, and gave the two wale prisoners into my custody—Annie Williams followed to the station and was taken in custody—I found on Charles Williams a half-crown,
four shillings, thirteen sixpences, twelve penny pieces, two halfpence, and two farthings—they made no answer to the charge—Charles and Annie Williams gave the same address—it was correct.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. Jewell was asked his address, and said "I would rather not give it"—I know that he has been employed in the Government telegraph service for many years—he gave an address afterwards, when the inspector asked him a second time—he did not tell me that it was not his address, but I could take it down if I liked.
ROBERT BOWTON (Policeman F 525). On 27th December, about 7.30 p.m., I was called to the Red Lion, and took Jewell; Annie Williams took hold of his arm and said "Don't take him; he is my brother"—on the way to the station Jewell said "They are only some friends I have met during the holidays"—he said nothing about their being brother and sister—I found on him a half-crown, two sixpences, and a foreign coin, all good—Jewell said "I would rather not give my address"—Charles and Annie Williams gave their address 23, Luard Street, Caledonian Road.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I told the Magistrate that Jewell said "She is not my sister," and I also said that the prisoners had given false addresses, but not in my presence—Williams have a true address but a false name—the address he gave was an empty house.
THOMAS SOMERS . I am ground workman at the West Middlesex Water Works—on 27th December I was at the Red Lion, Kilburn, when some people were apprehended, but I cannot swear to the prisoners—some time afterwards I found three shillings where they had been standing—I took them home—my fellow-servant examined them and found them bad—I put them in the fire and they melted very quickly.
MARY DAY . I am the wife of Henry Day, of 26, Luard Street, Caledonian Road—on 16th November I let a furnished room at 2s. a week to the two Williamses, in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Nunn—they occupied the same room and told me they were man and wife—they remained seven weeks, down to their arrest—I left home on the 26th, and came back on Monday evening, the 27th, and they were gone, and have not been there since—their things are just as they left them—the prisoner Jewell visited them; he told me he was her brother—he sometime called every day, and sometimes only now and then—since 27th Dec. I have received a letter from Holloway Prison—I have not got it here—it was asking for the boxes which the female prisoner had left, and the key of the room.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These seven shillings are all counterfeit—they are all mixed up together, but this one passed by Jewell is from the same mould as two of the other six—coins which melt when thrown into the fire are bad.
Jewell's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am innocent of the charge. The reason I refused my address was that publicity would have caused me instant dismissal. The potman was standing at the bar when I asked him to have a drink."
Charles Williams's Defence. I was in the bar when Jewell gave the
shilling, but I did not know it was bad. I produce my marriage certificate.
Annie Williams's Defence. We were all in the bar together. I went down to the station, and they detained me.
(The certificate stated that Charles Nunn and Annie Porthers were married at Kentish Town on 13th June, 1886.)
Jewell received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, January 11th, 1887.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
WILLIAM PERCIVAL (Policeman K 243). About 2 o'clock a.m. on 31st December I was on duty in Boar Lane, Poplar—I heard a slight noise Like glass being broken, which seemed to come from Montagu Place, an Adjoining street—I went there, and saw in the area of No. 6 the prisoner with his arms through the two broken center panes of glass of the Window, apparently shoving the shutters inside to force them open—I Went up very suddenly and caught him pushing them—I asked him what he was doing—as soon as he saw me he made a leap up the area, which Is eight feet deep—he missed his grasp, and fell back—I asked him if He would come out; he refused—I blew my whistle for assistance—on The arrival of two constables we pulled him up, and got him over the Railings—the windows were so broken that his arms were through—his Coat was on the ground; he was in his shirtsleeves, with his hat and Coat off—on the way to the station he said, "I had no money to get any Lodging, but intended to get some."
ELIZA WIGGINS . I am a servant in the employment of Thomas Harvey, of 6, Montagu Place—on the night of 30th December I closed the shatters and window of the breakfast parlour opening into the area—none of the panes were broken then.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "It was only to get a lodging. I broke the window to get locked up."
The prisoner in his defense stated that he had asked the policeman to lock him up for vagrancy, before he went down there.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
ROBERT WESTON FEEDAM . I am a carver and gilder, at 49, Liverpoo Street—I knew the prisoner as Collins—he was in my service as fitter up—on 3rd November I gave him 2l. 30s. to get some mouldings with—he never returned, and I heard no more of him till he was arrested last Thursday—the prisoner had been in my employment a week—I had entrusted him with small sums before, and he had come back all right.
With me for stealing 2l. 10s. From Mr. Feedam in Liverpool Street"—he said "I did not steal it; I had it stolen from me; I did not like to go back "—I took him to the station, where he was charged.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was to the same effect.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SANDERS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM. CHAPMAN . I am a tobacconist, of 17, Essex Road, Islington—there is a room behind the shop, in which I live and sleep—at 20 minutes to 12 on the night of 13th December I shut up the shop safely and went to bed—at 2 o'clock next morning the police called me up—I found my shop window had been broken, and that the wire protecting it outside had been unhinged and taken off—there was a hole about 2 feet by 16 inches in the window about four feet from the ground—from inside I missed six boxes of cigars and two pipes, value 4l.—these are the pipes (produced).
WILLIAM MOTT (Policeman M 236). At half-past 12 a.m. on 14th December I was on duty with another constable in plain clothes in Essex Road, and noticed the prosecutor's window was broken and the wire guard torn down; another constable was standing there—there was blood on the glass—I went to Inspector Turner, who came and inspected the premises—on the road from there towards three common lodging-houses I picked up three cigars at different places, and a portion of a cigar-box—I made inquiries at two lodging-houses, but could learn nothing—I went to the third lodging-house in White Lion Street, about 500 yards from the shop—I saw the prisoner alone outside—I said to him "You have been turned out here to-night?"—He said "No"—I said "Let me look at the back of your hand; if you have a wart on it I know you are the man "—I looked at his hand; there was a recent cut on the back of it, and blood right down—I said "You are the man I want; I am a police officer; I shall take you into custody on suspicion of having committed a burglary, broken into 17, Essex Road "—I found a fancy pipe in his right-hand pocket—he said "All right Sir, there is another pipe in the other pocket."
The prisoner in his defense said that he had told the inspector he had had a quarrel in the City Road, and that was how his hand was cut.
GUILTY .†— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
GAPP PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SANDERS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN defended Landridge, and MR. MCCULLAGH defended Allcorn.
DAVID HUGO DANIEL . I live at 13, Addison Road, and am a surgeon—on 28th November I was called to 16, Norland Terrace, where I saw Miss Brady, who made a statement to me—I then went into the kitchen and saw Alice Gapp lying on her back on the floor—I questioned her, and found she was very weak, and ordered her to bed—next morning I called and found her better—on 3rd December I called again, and examined her, and came to the conclusion that she had been confined
Within a recent date—I saw no child—she made a statement to me—on the first occasion I was fetched by Allcorn, who said her fellow-servant was taken ill with flooding—Gapp, in Allcorn's presence, said she thought she had a slight miscarriage—I went with Mark ham to the house again, and he took down the conversation.
Cross-examined. When I saw Gapp on 28th November she had not the appearance of being far advanced in pregnancy.
ROBERT MARKHAM (Detective X). On 3rd December I went with the doctor to Miss Brady's house, where I saw Miss Brady and Allcorn—I said I was a police officer, and that the doctor was satisfied the housemaid had been delivered of a child—I gave no caution, and made no charge—Allcorn said "About 12.30 on the 28th I saw Alice Gapp get out of bed and walk about the room several times; I did not see any child; I thought she was only about two months gone"—she then accompanied me to another floor back room with the doctor; I saw Gapp there—I told her I was a police officer, and that the doctor was satisfied she had been delivered of a child—she said "I was delivered of a child on the 28th; I took it downstairs in the morning, and Eliza Allcorn, the cook, wrote for my young man Langridge, he lives in the Waterloo Road, to come; he came on Monday evening; she gave him the child, and he took it away"—Allcorn said nothing—I then returned to the dining-room with Allcorn and the doctor—I said to her "You have heard what Alice has said"—she said "The housemaid was taken ill during the night of Saturday last, and at about 3 a.m. on Sunday, the 28th, I went upstairs, and Alice Gapp said 'There is a baby in the cupboard under the stairs; will you send a note to my sweetheart?' She gave me his address; I wrote to him asking him to. come; he came on Sunday evening, and I gave him the child through the area railings; he asked how Alice was, and I told him as well as we could expect"—I was present when Langridge made a statement to the inspector, who took it down.
Cross-examined by MR. MCCULLAGH. I made these notes at the time—Miss Brady was present at the interview with Allcorn—I did not ask Allcorn many questions; she is rather deaf—I asked her no questions but those I have stated—I only told her I was a police officer; that the doctor was satisfied she had been delivered of a child, and that Miss Brady had told me Gapp had been sleeping in the same bed—when we came downstairs all I said to Allcorn was "You have heard what Alice has said, "and then she made the statement.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. She said "I was very ill, and laid on the floor for an hour, and afterwards became insensible."
MARY ANN BRADY . I am single, and live at 10, Norland Square, Notting Hill—Gapp and Allcorn were in my service; they slept in the same room—I had noticed Gapp looked different, but she made no communication to me about it—Allcorn told me Alice had been poorly in the night, but was better—I afterwards saw her, and desired her to go and lie down—I afterwards went into her room, where I found a quantity of blood on the floor.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Gapp had been in my service about five years—I cannot say I had no suspicion of what was the matter, but nothing beyond suspicion.
Cross-examined by MR. MCCULLAGH. I heard Markham question Allcorn on 3rd December—he asked her if she had given the child away to
someone—he made notes—Allcorn is completely deaf with one ear—I don't think he asked her any questions after we came downstairs—I am not sure.
DANIEL MORGAN (Inspector X). On 6th December I saw Langridge and told him I was an inspector of police; that a very serious charge had been made against him of taking a newly-born child from 10, Norland square, Notting Hill, and that I Wanted to ask handsome question as to the disposal of that child, and I cautioned him—he said "I will tell you the truth, "and made a statement, which I took down—I said "The bodies of two children have been found, one in Hyde Park, and the other in the River Thames "—he said "It is the one in the River Thames; the child found in the Thames is the one I took away from 10, Norland Square; I am a married man; I had a letter asking me to take something away; It did not say what, I thought it was her clothes "—I asked who did he Mean by her—he said "Alice; I thought she was coming away on Tuesday; I had a doctor and a home provided for her; the mistress would not let her come away; the cook gave it to me; I threw the old Clothes away and put a piece of sacking round it "—I told him after that I should have to charge him—he said he was very sorry, he did the best He could for the girl—I afterwards went back and told Allcorn I should Have to take her into custody for conspiring to conceal the birth of a male Child, and that Langridge had made a statement that she had passed him The child, and that he took it and threw it into the Thames—she made No reply that I remember.
Allcorn received an excellent character.
GUILTY LANGRIDGE.— six Months' Hard Labour . ALLCORN and GAPP— Judgment respited.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL defended McCarthy.
HENRY HAYWARD . I am a riveter, and live at 51, Ernest Road. Mile End—on the afternoon of 30th December I was in the Railway Tavern drinking with a friend, Dan Clark—I saw the prisoners there—I had two penny worth of rum and paid for a pot of ale—I went from there to the Crown, Commercial Road, on my way home—the prisoners followed just behind me down the road—I and Clark went in, and I called for a pot of ale; the prisoners came and we talked together—I knew them before by going down to the docks—I saw they became rather quarrelsome—I attempted to go out, but McCarthy got in front of the door and said "You don't get away from me so easy as you think"—I said "You would not take this liberty with me only you know I am suffering from bronchitis and consumption "—I made a second attempt—my friend said" Why don't you let him out? he is doing nothing to you "—I made the third attempt and got out—I saw them coming after me, I went into the private compartment; they followed me, I was frightened and jumped over the bar and said to the barman "I wish you would call for a constable "—the barman helped me over—when the constable came to the door I went out—I said "I wish you would protect me against these men"—a man not in custody said "He struck my sister "—'the barman and constable would not hear what I had to say; I could not speak very well owing to my complaint—he went along as far as York Road and left
me—I went down York Square, and in the middle of it the prisoners came running up, and two of them pinned me behind—Fox had this arm, and Murphy, not in custody, must have had the other—McCarthy seized me by the throat, put his hand into my pocket, and took out 2s. 6d., and the others got 1s. 5d. and a handkerchief out of my pocket—they got away as far as the turning, where I saw them count the money—McCarthy said "What have you got?"—Murphy said "1s. 5d."—McCarthy said "I have got nothing"—I got up and said "You have got 2s. 6d. of mine"—I went to see if I could see a policeman, and they made off—Clark seemed to go that way with them—I went to the Thames Police-court—I had had a good deal of drink, but I was as clear as I am at the present—I am not a great drinker, I drink moderately.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I came out of the Docks at a quarter to 5—I had been working there all day—McCarthy had been working there too—we were all men who worked about the Docks—we were not all pals, I have tried to avoid them as much as I could—I went into the Railway Tavern about 10 minutes to 5, and was there about 20 minutes—I went in with Clark—I was in the Crown about an hour—Clark was not much the worse for liquor, he could certainly stand—I was a little the worse for liquor—those were the only two public-houses I went to—I had paid for two pots of ale, and some of the others had paid in their turn; they wanted me to pay for a little more, and I refused, and they got to rough play with me—the policeman I applied to moved me on—McCarthy denied at the time that he had taken half a crown from me—then Clark followed them towards Commercial Road—they had been at work and had money—I have known McCarthy about two years by sight, I believe.
DANIEL CLARK . I live at 142, Charles Street, Stepney, and am a laborer—on the afternoon of 30th December I was with Hayward in the Railway Tavern between half-past 4 and 5—the prisoners and a third man were there—all went off sociably there—we went to the Crown, and the prisoners followed us shortly afterwards; we did not ask them to go with us—everything went off sociably for an hour and a half, and tune the prisoners began to get very noisy to Hayward, and threatened what they would do to him if he did not pay for drink and used very violent language to him—I tried to persuade them not to do it, they took no notice of me—they tried to prevent him going out—I said to McCarthy," Why don't you let the man go out of the house?"—he said, "No one is stopping him from going out of the house, but I mean to keep my eye on him "—he got out at last; the prisoners were on his heels; he ran into the private bar for protection, and jumped over the bar—the barmaid, seeing it was likely to come to a quarrel, brought a constable in and had the prosecutor turned out—the prisoners came out, and one of them said to the constable that he had struck the barmaid and his sister—the constable pushed the prosecutor on as far as York Square, and then left him—that was not in fun—the prisoners came in front and behind the prosecutor and pinned him—two went down his pockets, while the third held his arms—they took 1s. 5d. from him—I said they were no men to do such a thing, if I knew I was coming to such company I would not have done it—McCarthy struck me a very violent blow on the mouth and knocked me insensible—I went home; the prisoners followed me as far as Old Church Road, and there wanted
me to drink with them; I would not—they wanted to give me a share of the money, I refused.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. We were all more or less drunk—I had known McCarthy before as a dock labourer, and I knew the others as working in the same neighbourhood; we had worked together—we all paid for drink—the prisoners were persuading the prosecutor to stand treat—he paid about three to one.
FREDERICK KING (Policeman H 207). On 1st January I arrested McCarthy—I told him I was a police officer and should take him into custody for being concerned with others not yet in custody in assaulting and robbing Hay ward in the York Road on the evening of the 30th—he said, "I can prove I was at work at the time."
McCarthy's Statement before the Magistrate. "I told the constable I was going to work on the morning he took me."
NOT GUILTY .
161. WILLIAM DAY (29) to marrying Mary Jane Davis, his wife being then alive. There was another indictment against him for stealing her goods.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Two Years' Hard Labour.
165. THOMAS ELLIS (35) to marrying Francis Dunford, his wife being then alive, after convictions of house-breaking in March, 1876, and bigamy in July, 1884.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude.
167. OSWALD LEWIS COLES (41) to obtaining by false pretences from Edward Cunningham Boosey 1l., 7l., and an order for the payment of 8l., with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, January 12th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
168. LOUIS CHARLES LOYEN (35) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for larceny of articles of Thomas Cranswick, also of Ferdinand Finch, and to a previous conviction of felony— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour, and to pay 50 l. towards the expenses of the prosecution.
169. In the case of JAMES MAUCHLIN, ALFRED DAY, DAVID DAY , and HENRY REUBEN DAY , indicted for conspiracy with others to defraud the Great Northern Railway Co. by the re-issue of used tickets , MR. POLAND, for one of the defendants, before plea applied to quash the indictment on the ground that it contained 35 Counts charging a variety of conspiracies between the prisoners and others, and also charging each separately with conspir ing with other persons. There were separate indictments against each of the defendants for stealing the tickets, and these separate acts of felony were included in the charge of conspiracy, lie therefore submitted that such an indictment was
embarrassing to the defense and ought to be quashed. MR. GEOGHEGAN and MR. HUTTON, for other of the defendants, supported the application. MR. KEITH FRITH also contended that the Great Northern Railway Company ceased to have any property in the tickets after they were once issued, and that no fraud upon them could be sustained. MR. BESLEY, with MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, contended that by the Vexatious Indictments Act, 30 and 31 Vic. (the Amendment Act), power was given to add Counts, so long as they did not travel out of the depositions, and that the depositions here sufficiently disclosed the facts and prevented any embarrassment arising. The RECORDED overruled MR. FRITH'S objection, and after consulting MR. JUSTICE SMITH, held that the indictment was embarrassing and therefore must be quashed, but gave leave to the prosecution to prefer another indictment next session. Cases referred to: Reg. v. Bolton and others, 12 Cox C. C., p. 87, and Reg. v. Barry, 4 Foster and Finlaison.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
JOHN SINCLAIR . I am cashier at the Kensington branch of the London and County Bank—on 15th December, about a quarter to one in the day, the prisoner came into the bank and produced this cheque purporting to be signed by Mr. Symes, a customer—I asked the prisoner where he got it—he said "From Mrs. Symes"—he said she was very unwell, and Mr. Symes also; he said that Mr. Symes had no more cheque forms, and he had drawn it on blank paper—he also said that he had previously presented one that was crossed, but could not obtain the money for it—I asked him his name; he said "Cook "—I asked him to write his name on the back of the cheque, and saw him sign the same name as that on the face of the cheque—I referred the matter to Mr. Hawson, the chief clerk, but did not hear what passed.
Cross-examined. The writing is not much like Mr. Symes's—I know nothing of a previous cheque having been presented.
WILLIAM ROBERT HAWSON . I am chief clerk at this bank—I was there on 15th December when the prisoner came; Mr. Sinclair referred to me—I looked at the cheque; "Charles Cook" was written on the back—I asked the prisoner where he got it; he said from Mr. Symes—I said, "It is not in Mr. Symes's writing"—he said "Then I must go back to Mr. Symes "—I said "I can't give you the cheque back, I must impound it"—he again said he must go back to Mr. Symes—I said "Wait a while, I will send somebody with you"—I called Mr. Perks and instructed him to go with the prisoner.
HUBERT PERKS . I was called by Mr. Hawson, and in the prisoner's hearing he gave me instructions to go with him to Mr. Symes, and gave me this cheque—Mr. Symes's house is about a mile from the bank—when we had got about 200 yards he began to make excuses; he said, "I have to go round to the post-office to cash a postal order"—he said he knew that the cheque was all right and I had better go on by myself—he was going round the corner when I put my hand on his arm and stopped him and said, "You had better come on with me to Mr. Symes's, and if it is right that will enable us to pay the money "—he still refused to go; we
remained at a standstill for quite five minutes—I persuaded him to get on a road car and we went to Mr. Symes's house—I showed the cheque to Mr. Symes in the prisoner's presence—Mr. Symes said he had never seen it before and knew nothing of it—Mr. Symes left the room for a short time; the prisoner then turned to me and said, "Well, sir, I suppose I must confess my guilt; I have done wrong "—I asked where he got the cheque—he said "I picked it up near Westminster Bridge"—I sent for a constable and he was taken into custody—he said he was not Charles Cook.
BOWER SYMES . I am a Congregational minister and live in Russell Road—I keep an account at the London and County Bank—I know nothing of the prisoner more than he was a worshipper in my congregation—I never sent him to the bank—this cheque is not my writing, and does not resemble it in the slightest degree—I know no one named Charles Cook—when at my house the prisoner said "You know me very well"—I said "No"—he said "My name is not Cook, my name is Bailey "—I then recognized him by that name—I never employed him in any way.
Cross-examined. I know that he was employed by Denny and Thomas, drapers—I have heard that he had a good character.
FREDERICK MORRIS (Policeman F 258). I received the prisoner in custody—I cautioned him that what he said might be used in evidence against him—he said, "I found the cheque near Westminster Bridge and I offered it at the bank during my dinner hour; I know I am guilty"—I searched him at the station and found on him a blank sheet of note paper and other things, no postal order.
GUILTY of uttering. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. POLAND and MATHEWS Prosecuted; MESSRS. BESLEY and PURCELL Defended.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 12th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ELILZABETH HILL . I am single, and keep a provision shop at Richmond House, Avenue Road, Acton—on 9th December, about 2.30, I served the prisoner with half an ounce of tobacco, price two pence—he gave me a shilling—I found it gritty, and my teeth sank in it—I took it upstairs, showed it to a lodger, and brought it down to the shop again—the prisoner was still there—I said "I cannot give you change for the shilling"—he said "Why?"—I said, "Because it is bad"—he said "Let me see it "—I showed it to him in my hand, and said "Do you remember where you got it?"—He said "I took it just now in change for a two-shilling piece "—I said, "Do you remember where?"—he said "Somewhere in Turnham Green"—he took out a florin and penny,
looked at them, and put them back, put down the tobacco, and left the shop—I kept the shilling.
Cross-examined. I showed it to Mrs. Lennox, a police inspector's wife, who lives upstairs—she took it to her husband, who was in bed, and it was out of my sight for an instant, but I can swear it is the same, because it is bright and new.
MINNIE LENNOX . I am the wife of Inspector Lennox—we lodge at Mrs. Hill's, who gave me a shilling on 9th December—I put it in my mouth, and found it gritty, and my teeth left marks in it—I gave it to my husband, who was in bed; he put in mouth, and found it bad, it slightly bent—he gave it back to me, and I handed it back to Mrs. Hill very quickly—I gave her tone same coin as I took from her—my husband went after the prisoner, and brought him back, and put the shilling down on the table, and the prisoner picked it up quickly and threw it down his throat.
Cross-examined. My husband did not strip you before me; he took off your top coat.
GEORGE LENNOX (Police Inspector). I lodge at Mrs. Hill's house—on 9th December, about 2.30 in the day, I was undressed and in bed—my wife brought me a shilling; I bit it, found it gritty, and my teeth sank into it—I dressed myself as quickly as possible, and overtook the prisoner in Avenue Road, 30 or 40 yards from the house, going towards Acton in the opposite direction to Turnham Green—I took him back to the house—my wife gave me the coin—I put it in my mouth in the prisoner's presence, doubled it up, and throw it towards her for her to pick up, and the instant it touched the table the prisoner picked it up and swallowed it—I caught him by his throat, and endeavoured to prevent him, but he said "Don't choke me," and I left off pressing his throat—I found on him a good florin, a penny, and a number of ballads—I took him to the station—he was charged, and made no reply—when asked his address he said "No fixed abode."
Cross-examined. I searched you in the back kitchen, and took off your great coat, only I did not take off your waistcoat or undo your braces.
THOMAS HOCKING (Policeman X 389). On 9th December, about 2.30, I was called to Mrs. Hill's house, and found the inspector searching the prisoner—I assisted in taking him to the station—next day going to the station I said "I should have thought that a shilling would have killed you"—he said "The inspector is only making a fool of himself to charge me; I am sure to be discharged; you have not got anything to show, and he has not got anything to show; you said last night you would stop me from swallowing it; you nor he could not stop me from swallowing it when once I got it into my teeth."
The prisoner in his defense stated that he did not know the shilling was bad, and denied swallowing it.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin in January, 1883, when he was
sentenced to five years' penal servitude.— Six Years' Penal Servitude. (The Court commended the conduct of Inspector Lennox).
MESSRS. WILKINSON and PARKES Prosecuted.
HARRIETT RIMELL . My husband keeps a beerhouse at 365, Cable Street, St. George's-in-the-East—on 2nd December the prisoner came in and asked me to give him two shillings' worth of coppers—I did so, and he put down a florin—I put it on one side, and he said "Give me half a pint of four-ale," and put down a penny—I turned to serve another customer, and when I turned round to take up the penny the prisoner had gone, and left his beer—I found the florin was bad, and did not mix it with any other silver—I afterwards gave the same coin to Smith—on the 19th I went into the bar while my sister was serving, and saw the prisoner leaving the bar—I looked in the till and found a bad shilling—there was other money there, but that was the only large coin—I showed it to my sister, and afterwards gave it to Smith—on 23rd December, about 9.15 p.m., the prisoner came again for half a pint of ale; he gave me a florin, and said "Give me all coppers?"—I said "I can't spare all coppers"—I went to get change, and found the florin was bad—I recognized the prisoner, and went into the kitchen, and spoke to my husband—a constable was called, and the prisoner made for the door, but the constable caught hold of him, and said "Where did you get this from?"—he said "I had it from where I work "—these are the three coins.
EMILY BROWN . I live at Mr. Rimell's—on 19th December I was alone in the bar, and served a man very much like the prisoner with half a pint of ale and a pennyworth of tobacco—I picked the prisoner out from eight or nine others—he is the only man like him—he gave mo a florin—I put it in the till, and gave him 1s. 10d. change—he then asked me for a pipe, and my sister, Mrs. Rimell, came into the bar, and he left his ale and did not wait for the pipe—she then went to the till, took out the only florin there, and showed it to me; it was bad—this is it.
CHARLES JAMES RIMELL . I keep this beerhouse—on December 23rd my wife showed me a florin, and I called a constable, who took the prisoner as he was leaving—I was sweeping the bar about 8.45 next morning before the house opened and found this other bad florin (produced).
GEORGE WILSON (Policeman H 217). On December 23rd Mr. Rimell called me, and as I went in I met the prisoner coming towards the door—I stopped him and he went back and stood by the bar—Mr. Rimell handed me a florin in his presence, and I asked him where he got it—he said "I got it where I work in Thames Street carrying oranges"—this is it—he was taken to the station and charged—on the next morning I went to the same compartment, and as I stood at the door I noticed a florin, which I picked up—this is it; it is bad—a good florin and a penny were found on the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I was going into the next bar without my hat and coat—I only had my uniform trousers and waistcoat—Mr. Rimell called me and I went into the wrong bar.
another at the station, and I saw the prisoner there and told him he would be charged with uttering a bad florin to the same people at the same place two or three weeks ago—he said "I know nothing about that"—he was placed with eight other men, and Emily Brown picked him out as being like the man who passed the coin on the 19th.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about it, it is a made-up case.
NOT GUILTY on the First Count. GUILTY on the Second, Third, and Fourth. — Fifteen Months Hard Labour.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and PARKES Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.
ERNEST AUGUSTUS WEAVER . I am a draper's assistant, of High Street, North Finchley—on 30th November, about 3 or 3.15 p.m., the prisoners came in and bought two silk handkerchiefs and two pairs of gloves, which came to 9s.—while I was looking out the gloves, Mary Ann said "Can you give me change for this sovereign," and laid this Hanover medal on the counter this side up.—(The side with "To Hanover" on it.) I took it up and said "This is worthless, not worth a copper"—she said "Is it bad then?"—I repeated that it was not worth a copper—she seemed surprised, and I said "Where did you get it from?"—she said "My master paid me this morning"—I advised her to take it back to her master at once, as he must have made a mistake—she said she would do so, and gave me a good sovereign to pay for the goods—I gave her a half-sovereign and a shilling in change—she put the medal back in the paper with what looked like some sovereigns—she had taken the medal out of that paper—I saw them later on looking in at the window, and saw them pass the shop twice that evening, and saw a policeman take them.
Cross-examined. She took the medal from a paper in which there were several other coins, and handed it to me with the man on horseback upwards—she seemed to be taken quite aback when I said that it was valueless, and she at once said "I received this to-day from my master," and took from the same paper a good sovereign—I gave the medal back to her, she wrapped it up in the, paper, put it in her pocket, and went away—the Queen's head was on one side—they did not tell me who their master was, but I afterwards heard that it was Mr. Sewell, of Winchmore Hill, which is four miles off—I can get there from my shop by train to Finsbury Park.
WILLIAM FIELD . I am an assistant in Mrs. Marsh's shop, that is about 100 yards from High Street, North Finchley—on 30th November, about 5.30, the two prisoners came in, and I served Mary Ann with some fried fish, price 4d.—she said "Can you change a sovereign?" and put a coin on the counter—I said "Yes," and took it to Mrs. Marsh—she went into the shop and took the coin with her, and said "Where did you get this money from?" and said that it was worthless—Mary Ann said "My master gave it to me this morning, when we came out for a holiday "—Mrs. Marsh said "Do you know you are liable to get live years for passing bad money?"—Mary Ann said that she did not
know it was bad, and that her master gave it to her in the morning—she paid for the fish and the sweets with a shilling, and they left—she had other coins in the paper—she gave Mrs. Marsh another coin, and she gave me a sovereign and asked me if it was good—I said "Yes."
Cross-examined. There were two Hanoverian medals which she said she got from her master that morning—she wrapped them up in paper, and Mrs. Marsh advised her to communicate with her master—Alice took no part in it from beginning to end; she never uttered a word—Mary Ann said that their master was Mr. Sewell, of The Chase, Winchmore Hill; that was before they were given in custody—there was no concealment as to who they were—the two medals and the sovereign were taken from the same piece of paper.
Re-examined. Alice took no part in it, but she said that their master gave them to them.
ELIZA AGNES MARSH . My husband is a fishmonger, of Lodge Lane, North Finchley—on 30th November, about 5.30, Field brought me a Hanoverian medal like this; I found it was not a sovereign—the prisoners then asked for twopennyworth of sweets, and I served them—we have two separate shops—holding the medal in my hand, I then said to the elder prisoner," This is useless "—she then gave me another Hanoverian medal, which she took out of a piece of paper in her hand, and put the first one back in the paper—she said, "Is this good?"—I said "No"—she then gave me a good sovereign from the same paper—I gave it back to her, and asked her if she had any more money—she said "Yes," and gave me a shilling, and I gave her the change—I said, "Where did you get the bad money from?"—she said, "My master paid me my wages this morning "—I said that she had better take them back to her master, and asked her if she was aware that she was liable to five years for uttering them—she said she would take them back to her master, and would give him five years for giving her such coin—they left; I told a constable, and he took them.
Cross-examined. Mary Ann said that the coins had both been received from her master—the first one was brought to me by my assistant, and when I told Mary Ann it was worthless, she took out another and asked if that was good—she said that her master was Mr. Sewell, The Chase, Winchmore Hill—there was no concealment—the other prisoner never spoke, she simply stood there.
EDWARD HARRY SEWELL . I live at The Chase, Winchmore Hill—the two prisoners were in my service; Mary Ann had been there four months, and Alice about seven months—I discharged them summarily on 30th November about 7 a.m., in consequence of misconduct in my house—1l. 13s. 4d. was due to Mary Ann on 10th December, I believe, but I gave her 1l. 13s. 6d.—no wages were due to Alice, she had been paid on the previous Saturday—they were both together when I paid Mary Ann, and I believe I gave her a sovereign, a half-sovereign, a half-crown, and a shilling, and in addition to that I gave them a sovereign, and asked them to go home to their friends—I took the money out of my purse, which was in my pocket—I most certainly did not give them any Hanoverian medals, it is utterly impossible that I could have done so—I had a gross of them in my house, but since this they have all been destroyed—they had been used for playing at Nap, and were kept in a counter-box in the dining-room, open to everybody, any servant had
access to it—five or six weeks had elapsed since the counters had been used, because the house was shut up, my wife being ill at Brighton, one of my daughters was at home, but no company was kept, and therefore the counters were not used—I had been to a friend's house the previous night; I played at whist there—I took no counters there from my house, I did not go from my house to my friend's—I used counters there, but they were not Hanoverian medals, they were fish; mother-of-pearl.
Cross-examined. Nobody was in the house but my daughter and her cousin who was staying with her; neither of them are here—I discharged the prisoners because my daughter complained that they had both been a little intoxicated; I heard of it twice, and the second time I sent them away—I came home from Brighton on the Monday night, and sent them away on Tuesday morning—I should not have discharged them but for drunkenness—Mary Ann had received 1l. 13s. 4d. monthly for the four or five months she was there—I have heard that she comes from Norfolk from service, and she speaks the Norfolk dialect—I say that I gave her three sovereigns, two of which were to go home to her friends with.
GEORGE ETHERIDGE (Policeman S 273). On 30th November, about 5.40 p.m., I received information from Mrs. Marsh, and went in search of the prisoners, I found them on the high road leading from Finchley to Whetstone—they were not going towards Winchmore Hill, but in the direction of High Barnet—Mrs. Marsh's shop is, I should say, four or five miles from Winchmore Hill; it is not quite in an opposite direction, Winchmore Hill lies to the right, and they were going to the north; they could get to Winchmore Hill that way by going a long way round—Mary Ann was carrying a small parcel containing fish—I said that they would be charged with attempting to pass bad money—she said, "If it is bad my master gave it me as wages "—I said, "You had been previously told it was bad, at Mr. Weaver's"—she repeated the same statement—I took them to the station, where I received from the female searcher these two Hanoverian medals and a sovereign, two half-sovereigns, a sixpence, 5 1/2 d., a silver watch, and a bunch of key.
Cross-examined. I said to her," You have been previously told it was bad," I was assuming that it was the same coin which she passed two hours before, and that she was trying to pass it a second time; I did not know that she had two, till she was searched—she said that she had received them both from her master.
ALICE BANKS . I am female searcher at Whetstone Station—on 30th November I searched the prisoners, and found on Mary Ann two Hanoverian coins, one good sovereign, two good half-sovereigns, a sixpence, five pence, a silver watch, and a bunch of keys—I found nothing on Alice—I handed the articles to the constable.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Mary Ann Gaskin says: "The money I had was given me by my master; he never paid me a penny till the morning he turned me away; the money he gave me was 1l. 13s. 6d. for myself, and 1l. for my sister, which I took for her. I had other money in my purse." Alice Gaskin says: "I was present when Mr. Sewell paid my sister the wages, and he threw it on the table; I did not know it was bad."
MR. FULTON contended that there was no case to go to the Jury against the prisoner Alice, as her mere presence did not make her an accessory.
side when Mary Ann asked for change for a sovereign, but they were close together, and Alice said "Our master gave it to her," meaning to her sister.
The COMMON SERJEANT declined to withdraw the case from the Jury.
EDWARD HARRY SEWELL (Re-examined). I did not count the Hanover coins before I destroyed them—I had a gross of them, and there were six or eight dozen left—I won no money at cards the night before; I lost half-a-crown—my wife destroyed the coins as soon as she read the report in the papers.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, January 13th, 1887.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
175. JOHN LITTLE (42) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling the sum of 75l. of the Mayor, Commonalty, and Citizens of London, his masters; also to unlawfully omitting certain particulars from a receipt book, the property of his said masters.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. There were other indictments against the prisoner, and his defalcations were stated to amount to 1,100l. during the five years he had been in the service of the Corporation as Clerk and Collector of Billingsgate Market.
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, January 13th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Warder BOLTON stated that FROUGER** had been several times convicted of the same offence.— Two Years' Hard Labour . LIFFORD— Discharged on his father's recognisance.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and PARKES Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN EDMONDS . I am manager to Messrs. Barnes and Stewart, who keep the Coach and Horses in the Strand—on 3rd December, at a quarter to 3 p.m., the prisoner came in for twopenny worth of rum hot—my wife served him; he gave her a counterfeit shilling; she handed it to me, and said "Is it bad?"—I said "Yes," and I said to the prisoner "This is bad "—he said "Is it?" and then he gave my wife a good shilling—I gave the bad shilling back to him; I did not bend it—there was no other person in that compartment at the time—I found another counterfeit shilling on the till—I jumped over the counter and said to him "I shall give you into custody"—I communicated with the barmaid, and showed the shilling to her, and it was afterwards given to the police—a policeman came and searched the prisoner, and found a counterfeit shilling in his pocket—he moved him in searching him, and where he had been standing there was a paper packet on the floor containing four
counterfeit coins, with paper between each—the one found on him was the one I returned.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There were no people in the compartment which you were in when the constable came to search you—I found the coins about three feet from you when the constable moved you—I swear no one else was in the compartment then.
MARY EDMONDS . I am the wife of the last witness—on 3rd December I was in the bar—the prisoner came in about 3 o'clock for twopennyworth of rum hot, and tendered a shilling—I thought it was bad, and asked my husband; the prisoner could hear me—my husband said "Yes," came to the prisoner, and spoke to him—soon after the prisoner was taken into custody—I saw a paper parcel picked up containing four bad coins—no one was in the compartment besides the prisoner, the constable, and my husband—I heard no one say "Look on the floor, perhaps he has dropped something."
ROSE PITTS . I am barmaid at the Coach and Horses—on 3rd December I served the prisoner with twopennyworth of rum hot about 20 minutes to 3—after that I left the bar, and Mrs. Edmonds succeeded me—a little later she called me down, and showed me a bad shilling—I believe the prisoner paid me with a shilling; I am not sure—I placed the money he gave me in the till.
Cross-examined. The shilling would be visible in the till.
BENJAMIN EDMONDS (Re-examined). It is a patent till, with a bowl for coppers, and a change-rack at the back—the shilling would be placed on the shelf and two sixpences taken; and you could see the shilling there.
THOMAS FITZGERALD (Policeman E 292). I was called to the Coach and Horses—I saw the prisoner there—Mr. Edmonds said "I wish to give this man into custody for passing bad money "—the prisoner said nothing—Mr. Edmonds handed me a counterfeit shilling, which he said he had found on the till, and had been taken a short time previously by his barmaid—the prisoner said "I know nothing about it"—I searched him, and found a counterfeit shilling in his great-coat pocket—I kept it, having showed it to the prisoner, who said nothing—Mr. Edmonds picked up four counterfeit shillings, wrapped in this paper, from the floor, about a yard from where the prisoner was standing—I showed them to the prisoner—he said "I know nothing about them "—no one was in that part of the bar but Mr. Edmonds, myself, and the prisoner—I afterwards searched the prisoner, and found on him six sixpences, two shillings, and a halfpenny bronze, all good—when the charge was read to him, he said "There was only one bad shilling found in my possession"—he gave his address at a common lodging-house in Castle Street, Leicester Square.
GUILTY .** The prisoner had been previously convicted of uttering counterfeit coin.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH BELGROVE . I am the wife of George Belgrove, who keeps a dairy at 2, Frankfort Terrace, Harrow Road—on 8th December the prisoner came and asked for two fresh eggs and gave me half a crown—I gave him the eggs and change—as he turned to go out I bent the
half-crown easily in the crack of the counter—I called to him "You have given me some bad money"—he was just then on the doormat—he disappeared directly—I went to the door and looked out; I did not see him—I sent my man after him and he brought him back in about ten minutes—I said "You have given me a bad half-crown"—he said "I did not know it "—I said "Why did you not come back when I called you?"—he said "I was afraid "—I said "If you meant right you would not be afraid; I had a bad half-crown given me a day or two ago, and I believe you gave it to me "—he said "I take my dying oath I have not been in your shop before "—I had served him myself to two eggs on the Saturday previous—I said "I served you"—he said "I mean I have not been in to pass bad money before "—I put that half-crown on the Saturday in the till, and on the Monday sent the contents of the till to the bank—a bad half-crown was sent back from the bank—I gave the half-crown which the prisoner passed on Wednesday, the 8th, to the constable—these are the two coins—the prisoner took the eggs with him—I had them and the change back from him when he was given into custody—one of the eggs was cracked, I asked him for the penny for it—he said he had no money.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear what coin you gave me on the Saturday—I gave you change and a half-crown was sent back from the bank.
WILLIAM SHEPPERTON . I work for Mrs. Belgrove—on 8th December she called to me to go after the prisoner, whom I had seen go out—when I got outside he was running, and was about 30 yards away, going down the Ashmore Road—I ran and caught him—I told him I wanted him to come back; he said nothing, but came back.
CHARLES SMITH (Policeman X 194). I was called to this shop—I told the prisoner he would be charged with uttering a counterfeit half-crown, and I asked him if he had any more about him—he said "That is all the money I have; I did not know it was bad "—I searched him, but found nothing—he was taken to the station and charged—he said nothing—when asked his address he said "No home"—I received these two counterfeit half-crowns from Mrs. Belgrove.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that the fast time he went into the shop was on the 8th; that he did not know the coin he then tendered was bad, and that he hurried off as he had an appointment with a friend.
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of feloniously uttering in May, 1879, in the name of William Wilson.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted
LOUISA CARN . I am the wife of James Cam, who keeps a baker's shop at 38, Charlton Street, St. Pancras—on 20th December the prisoner and a soldier came in about 10 or half-past 10 a.m. for a loaf of bread, price 2d.—I think the prisoner asked for it, the soldier said very little—the soldier put down a half-sovereign on the counter—I rang it and found it was perfectly good—there was a stain in the middle of it—I asked if they could not find me something smaller; I laid it on the counter—the prisoner said he had only a halfpenny, which he showed me—the soldier was the worse for drink, the prisoner was quite sober—when the half-sovereign
was lying on the counter the prisoner covered it in his hand, which he moved towards the soldier, the soldier picked the money up and put it into his purse—the prisoner asked him if he could not find something different for the lady, the soldier pulled out the half-sovereign and put it on the counter—he said nothing—I immediately picked it up and put it in the tester and it broke—I said it was bad; the prisoner put his hand over the counter to try and prevent me breaking it, and then he paid me 2d., which he took from his pocket—I called for help from below—I did not try the good half-sovereign except by ringing it—I am very quick with money—I had a bad sovereign before—a constable came and the prisoner was given into custody together with the coins—I saw him searched, and this half-sovereign was found on him; that was the half-sovereign which the soldier first offered—when that was found him the prisoner said it was all his own money; he kept saying that.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You showed me a halfpenny and said that was all you had—you gave me the 2d. directly I broke the half-sovereign—I said to my husband "Don't lock the soldier up, for he is innocent"—you said when the constable came in, "I have done nothing wrong to be searched"—the soldier was not searched at our place but at the police-station.
DAVID KNIGHT . I am a gunner in the Royal Artillery, stationed at St. John's Wood—I was in the prisoner's company—I remember very little of what took place; I had had a good deal of liquor—I left home about 8.15 and had a few glasses; I met the prisoner about a quarter to 9 and had two or three glasses with him—he talked about going for a soldier—I said I would take him to St. George's Barracks, because I get 5s., for every one I bring who passes—he mentioned that he felt rather hungry and could do with some breakfast—I had close on 25s. with me; a half-sovereign and some silver, no coppers—I put down a half-sovereign in the baker's shop, and I remember picking a half-sovereign off the counter and putting it down again while paying for the bread—I had only one half-sovereign—I remember the policeman coming—I had not known the prisoner before I met him that morning—I think he spoke to me first—I don't remember his changing any money before we got to the baker's shop; I believe he had plenty of money about him, he paid for several drinks—I don't think he had any purse; his money was loose in his pocket.
Cross-examined. I did not meet you in Oxford Street on the Sunday morning—you did not come to my place on the Monday morning and have two cups of tea—I gave you my address that you might call there for me to take you to St. George's Barracks—you spent money with me; I can't say how much—I have no recollection of your changing a sovereign.
ELLEN KNIGHT . I am the last witness's wife, and live at 16, Star Street, Edgware Road, with him—he was at home with me from Sunday night, 19th December, till the Monday morning—he went out just after 8 a.m.—I did not see the prisoner at my house on the 19th or 20th—he did not have tea with us there—we never have tea in the morning—I had never seen him before I saw him at the police-court on the 20th.
Cross-examined. I did not admit you and say "Come upstairs" at 8 o'clock in the morning—we did not have eggs for breakfast—my husband has not got a light overcoat.
prisoner and the soldier—the soldier had had a great deal too much to drink—he walked to the station very well without assistance, but he appeared stupefied and hardly to know what he was doing; the prisoner was sober—Mrs. Carn said she would charge the two men with uttering a counterfeit half-sovereign; afterwards she said she would only charge the civilian—he said he had not done so; he had not tendered any bad money—I asked if he had any objection to my searching him—he said "I have not done anything and I won't be searched"—I called in another constable; I found in his right hand trousers pocket a half-sovereign and 3 1/2 d. good money, and in another pocket I found three florins and a shilling, good—Mrs. Carn was present, and said directly I put the money on the counter, "That is the half-sovereign the soldier gave to me; I recognise it by a spot in the centre"—the prisoner said "That is all my money"—at the station when charged he said he had not tendered any bad money, it was the soldier that tendered it—he said the money found on him was all his own money—he gave the address 18, Parker's Place, Westminster—there is no such place—on the soldier I found 12s. 6d. in good silver, no gold.
Cross-examined. Parker's Place, Westminster, is not known anywhere.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that he had met the soldier on the previous night, and had called and had breakfast with him on the Monday morning; that the soldier put down the half-sovereign; that he passed it to him and told him to pay with a smaller coin, but that the soldier put the same half sovereign down again.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and WILKINSON Prosecuted.
HENRY EDWARD DAGWELL . I am barman at the Blackfriars Tavern, 174, Queen Victoria Street—on 11th December, at 9.45 p.m., the prisoner came in for twopennyworth of whisky neat and offered half a crown in payment—I bounced the coin on the counter and tried it with my teeth, which sank into it—I said "Have you anything else, this is bad?"—I showed it to him—he said "I have a shilling," and gave it me—I tried it in my teeth and found it was bad and broke it; I had broken the half-crown as well—I asked if he had any more—he said "I have no more"—I asked him what he was going to do—he said his pal would pay for it—nobody was with him—he walked towards the door; I jumped over the counter and stopped him, and kept him there till a constable came, who took him—I gave the coins to the constable; they were marked in my presence—these are they.
JAMES ALTON (City Policeman 457). I was called and the prisoner was given into my custody by the barman, who said he had given him a bad half-crown and a bad shilling—the coins were handed to me—I asked the prisoner how he came in possession of them—he said "I cannot account for them"—then he said "My sister asked me to give her change for half a crown, but I cannot account for the shilling"—on the way to the station he said "I was selling the evening papers in the Strand when a gentleman bought the Echo and he gave me a shilling; I gave him 11 1/2 d. change"—at the station I searched the prisoner; I found nothing on him—I marked these coins in the last witness's presence—the prisoner gave
his address 14, Saffron Hill, Holborn—I am unable to find that number there—there is a No. 13, but no Donovan is known there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I could only find one lodging-house there, and that is 151; nothing is known of you there.
Witness for the Defence.
KATE HOLT . I live at 12, Running Horse Yard, Blackfriars, and am a paper-back maker, and am keeping company with the prisoner—on Saturday, about 9 p.m., you borrowed a half-crown of me, and promised to meet me in about an hour's time.
Cross-examined. I have worked for two years at this place—I received my wages that evening from my master, Mr. George Shuttleworth—he gave me two half-crowns, a shilling, and fourpence-halfpenny or fivepence-halfpenny—I had 9d. When I received that—I have been in the habit of lending the prisoner money—I did not examine the money Mr. Shuttleworth gave me, and could not say whether it was good or bad—Mr. George Shuttleworth generally pays the wages—before this there was a bad shilling paid in the shop by our master, and it was brought back—he gave a good one for it—I never found any bad money in the wages I have received for the last two years.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that the half-crown he had from the witness, and the shilling by selling papers.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ELIAS MENDOZA . I am assistant to Mr. John Isaacs, a fruiterer, at 2, Lamb's Conduit Street—on 3rd December a little boy came for a pound of apple and offered me a half-crown which I found was bad—I spoke to him, and in consequence of what he said went outside the shop and saw the prisoner, who was standing across the road, about 100 yards off, leaning against the shutters of a baker's shop—I said "What do you mean by giving this boy this half-crown?" showing it to him—he said he knew nothing about it—the boy said "You know you gave it to me"—I asked him to come across the road with me to the shop—I sent for a constable and gave him into custody—on being charged he said he did not know anything about it; he did not know the boy—I had broken the half-crown with a weight on the pavement before I went out of the shop—I gave the half-crown to the constable—this is it.
HENRY PAYNE . I am 14 years old and work for a newsagent—I live at 20, Walnut Street—on 3rd December I met the prisoner at the corner of Bedford Row—he called me and said "Do you see that shop over tehre?"—it was a tobacconist's—I said "Yes"—he said "Will you go and get me two twopenny smokes?"—he gave me a half-crown and I went over and went into the shop and asked for them—as the gentleman was getting them I asked him if the half crown was a good one before I put it on the counter—I was not served—I went to the prisoner and told him what had taken place—he said "Oh, that is all right"—he then asked me to get him half an ounce of best shag round by Lamb's Conduit Street, and gave me the same half-crown—I looked in the window; the prisoner came on the other side—I went in and asked for the shag and put down the half-crown, and said "I believe this is bad"—the gentleman
said "Take it out of my shop"—I went over to the prisoner with it; he was waiting for me—he put his hand into his pocket and said "You see that fruiterer's there?"—I said "Yes"—he said "Go and get me a pound of apples, twopence"—I went to the fruiterer's and asked for the apples—they put them in the scales—I said "I went to two shops and they would not take this"—he said "Who gave it you?"—I said "That chap there," and when I pointed he was gone—he asked me what sort of a chap he was; I told him—I went away and saw the prisoner in the Theobald's Road—I went to the fruiterer's and said "There is the chap, he is waiting for me up there"—he said "Go and speak to him, and I will come up behind you"—I went up to him—the prisoner said "Have you got it?"—I said "No, it is a bad one"—he said "Give us it"—I said "The gentleman has got it"—then the gentleman came across the road—while he was speaking to the prisoner the prisoner dropped a packet of tobacco, which I picked up—the prisoner said he never dropped it, and knew nothing about it—Mr. Mendoza is the fruiterer—he took the prisoner over to his shop, where he was searched—they sent for a constable.
JOHN WILLIAM PARKIN . I keep a tobacconist's shop at 20A, Lamb's Conduit Street—early in December Payne came in for some shag, and said, distinctly, "It is a bad coin?"—I said "Out of my shop you go, and your coin too"—I did not see the coin; I saw he had something—I did no see the prisoner.
THOMAS SAUNDERS (Policeman E 190). On 3rd December I was called to Mr. Isaacs's shop, where I saw Mendoza detaining the prisoner, whom he charged with uttering a counterfeit half-crown—I searched the prisoner, and found on him two florins, 14 shillings, nine sixpences, a threepenny piece, and fourteenpence in bronze, all good—Payne was there—he stated he had been sent by the prisoner to the shop—the prisoner said "I don't know anything of this boy whatever"—I received this half-crown from Mendoza—I took the prisoner to the station, and charged him—he said "If I am right and this man is wrong what recompense shall I get?"—I asked his address—he said "34, Hornsey Road, Holloway "—I have made inquiries there—I have made inquiries also at the tobacconist's shop in Theobald's Road—the man who was there on 3rd December has gone abroad.
Witness for the Defence.
KATE BURDEN . I am the prisoner's sister-in-law—he worked for me at a fruit stall from April 2nd to November 29th, and then I lent him 25s. as I could employ him no longer, as I had to remove the stall—I saw 25s. in his possession on the Friday night; he had no half-crowns then.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of uttering at this Court in March, 1885, in the name of Alfred Taylor.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
minutes to 1 on the morning of 29th December I was in Canonbury Road, Islington, and saw the prosecutor followed by the prisoner—the prosecutor was drunk and rolling about, but could have got home all right if he had not been interfered with—he did not know what he was about—I followed them—when he had got about 40 yards up Anstey's Row, the prisoner walked up and struck him with his right hand by the side of his face, and knocked him down—as soon as he was on the ground the prisoner commenced to unbutton his coat, and his hands went up to his vest, but I could not see what he did—then he saw me coming, and ran away—I saw the prosecutor's watch-chain was broken—I ran after the prisoner, caught him after he had run 10 or 20 yards, and told him I should charge him with attempting to steal a watch from the person, and violently assaulting—the prisoner said "It is a lie; I was helping the gentleman up"—after he was charged I went back with Blake, and found this portion of the chain lying on the ground, which the prosecutor identified—this other piece still remained in his vest; it is a hair-guard.
Cross-examined. I did not stop and ask him if he had lost his watch or any money—I did not say he would have to charge you—I took him as well, and charged him with being drunk—the prosecutor did not say he would not charge you, that you had done nothing to him.
WILLIAM PERCIVAL . I live at 18, Wallace Road, Islington, and am a clerk—I was drunk on the night of 29th December, and remember nothing whatever—I do not remember being knocked down—this is part of my watch-chain and watch—I was wearing them on that night—the chain had been broken before—I should have got home all right—I was taken to the police-station—I had had supper with a friend about 9 and became oblivious about 11.
Cross-examined. Next morning my ulster and hat and trousers were all over mud.
BLAKE (Policeman N 294). On this morning at a quarter-past 1 I was at the station on duty, when Holloway came there with the prisoner and prosecutor, who was very drunk—the prisoner was quite sober and understood everything—I afterwards went with Holloway to Anstey's Row, where I saw him pick up this portion of a chain from the ground—Anstey's Bow is only a footway—the prosecutor was quiet when at the station—I did not see there was a ring of India rubber at one end of the watch.
The prisoner in his defence stated that the prosecutor fell down, and that he was helping him up, when the constable came up and told the prosecutor to give him into custody for attempting to rob him.
NOT GUILTY .
184. CHARLES TORRENS (63) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining 7l. 10s. from John Munro, and 7l. 10s. from Edward Jennings, by false pretence, with intent to defraud. He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction* of conspiracy to defraud in September 1872.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, January 13th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
RILEY PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. CLURE, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against
TIBBLE.— NOT GUILTY .
188. WILLIAM WHISTLER was again indicted, with CHARLES RUSSELL (71) , for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Mary Eleanor Caldwell on 10th May, 1886, and stealing eight brooches, a Russian cross, a diamond cross, a Maltese cross set in diamonds, pearls, rubies, and emeralds, and other articles, value 2,500l., her property.
MESSRS. POLAND and C. MATHEWS Prosecuted.
MARY ELEANOR CALDWELL . In May, 1886, I lived at 3, Audley Square, and the next house was unoccupied—on 10th May I came home at 6.30, and was at home all the evening—I was in my bedroom on the second floor up to 7.30, and then went down to dinner, leaving some cases of jewellery on the dressing-table—about 10 o'clock one of my servants made a communication to me, and I went to my bedroom and missed my jewel-case and its contents, diamonds, pearls, rubies, some pear-shaped diamonds, a pair of earrings with gold balls, some pink diamonds, and other articles, value 2,500l.—I have been shown a quantity of diamonds, rubies, and pearls, but not in the condition in which mine were when they were lost; some of these are smaller and some larger than mine.
Cross-examined by Russell. I do not know whether these are imitations, but I know that mine were real.
ARTHUR GIBBS . I live at 92, Robert Street, Regent's Park—in May last I was living with my mother at 104, Little Albany Street, and was out of work—Whistler lodged there, and we slept in the same bed—early in May he said that his father (Russell) was coming out of prison, and was going to look over No. 3, Audley Square—he said "He has been watching the house for a month to see how the lights were, and I cannot do anything without him"—he also said, "I don't believe in work, it is only fools who work"—after that I walked about with him from time to time, and he said, "I want you to go into an empty house in Audley Square next door to No. 3"—that was to commit a robbery next door—I was to take a jemmy and a knife and hide them in a room, and hide myself under the furniture on the first floor, and wait for a signal—I was to go in between 3 and 4 o'clock—he said that there were a lot of workmen there, and if I saw them I was to say that I had come after a job—two fusees was to be the signal to go to work, to rob, and one fusee was for me to come out of the house—I was to walk along the parapet and rob the house next door in the corner—on 10th May, the day after that conversation, he went with me about 11 or 12 a.m. to Audley Square, and pointed out an empty house—he took his hat off as he passed for a signal, as he had told me before—we then went on to the Park, and he left me at Stanhope Gate—I went to 4, Audley Square between 3 and 4 p.m. with a jemmy and a knife—I found the door open and workmen employed there—I went up to the first floor, got under the furniture, and
about 8 o'clock, when the workmen had left, I went up to the top floor front, and about 8.15 I saw Whistler outside—he struck two fusees, and I went into the back room, got out on the parapet, and went along up to the next house, and got in at the back window into a room, and down a flight of steps into a bedroom, where I saw a lot of jewellery in cases on the dressing-table and in the drawers—there was no light in the room, but I lit a safety match and a candle—I took everything I saw in the way of a jewel-case, and put them in my pocket—I had a bobtail coat on—I took two jewel-boxes upstairs to a room at the top—I was told to lock the door and break the boxes open and the cases, which I did, and left them on the floor, and put the jewels in my pocket—there were diamonds, rubies, and pearls—I got back the way I came, and down to the first floor of No. 4—I then looked and saw one of the workmen downstairs, so I did not go down, but went into the drawing-room and out at the window, and got into the street by a lamp railing—I went to Stanhope Gate and saw Whistler—I took my hat off, as bad been arranged between us, to let him know that I had got the stuff—I told him we were being watched—he told me to go to St. George's Hospital and wait there till he, came—I went there and saw Russell there—I had seen him before, coming out of 92, Robert Street with Whistler, but I had not spoken to him—Whistler had told me that Russell was his step-father—I waited there nearly three-quarters of an hour, and Whistler came and spoke to Russell, who went into a public-house, and Whistler came over to me and said he had told his father I had the stuff, and he was crying with joy—he left me and returned, and he and I got into a cab and drove to Wardour Street—I gave him part of the jewellery on the way—he looked at them and said "They are real diamonds," and put them in his pocket—we got out of the cab and walked to Shaftesbury Avenue—I then gave him all the jewellery except a box with these three diamonds—he said he was going to take it to the old man, who would run it down and take the stones out—he gave me 5d. and told me to meet him at Castle's coffee-shop, Hampstead Road—I went there, and he joined me in about three-quarters of an hour, and said he had taken the stuff to the old man, and I was to meet him next morning at the same place—Whistler had not stayed at our house up to that date; when his father came out of prison he went to 92, Robert Street, and he said that I was to kick up a row, so as to get turned out of my mother's house, and he would take me with him to Dartford—I managed to have so serious a row with my mother that I was able to leave the house, and I went to a common lodging-house in St. Martin's Lane and slept there, and Whistler supported me—he gave me 6d. one night and 1s. another night—while I was there he gave me 1s. to go and buy some charcoal, which I did, at a greengrocer's in Hedley Street, Hampstead Road—Mr. Stephens sold it to me—Whistler said that the charcoal was to be used for the old man to "run the gold down" and sell it and the stones—I took it to 92, Robert Street, and gave it to Mrs. Maddison, and Whistler told her to give me an overcoat, which she did—that was about a week after I went to Dartford with Whistler—we went down there about the middle of May, because, he said, we should not be picked up by the detectives—we lived at the British Workman there three weeks—he passed as a dealer in old clothes there, and I was to be his workman——about that time I found a watch chain in an overcoat of his; I showed
it to him and he said that he forgot to give it to the old man, and that it came from Audley Square—we afterwards removed to Mrs. Page's, at Dartford, and were there about nine weeks—we were at Dartford altogether about three months, and Whistler paid for my board and lodging—during that time he made the acquaintance of Ellen Stephens, who he married—he used to have remittances every week, sometimes on Friday and sometimes on Monday, postal orders for 3l., which he said came from the old man—I saw the old man at Dartford two or three times—he came twice before the marriage and once afterwards—he said to me in Whistler's presence "You did that job very well in Audley Square, I think you got it all"—Whistler said "I don't think he did"—Russell said "Yes, he got it all"—Russell remained to dinner at the Pages' once, and they saw him, and the girl Stephens saw him also—while I lived at Dartford, Whistler and I went up to Queensborough Terrace, and Upper Brook Street, and Ledbury Gardens—after leaving Dartford I went to live with Whistler at the old lodging in St. Martin's Lane—the girl Stephens took it, and passed as Mrs. Whistler, and after a week Whistler went to live at 42, Hethpool Street, and I remained at St. Martin's Lane—after that Whistler introduced me to Evans, in Edgware Road; he told Evans that I had done a good job in Audley Square—he called me Arty—he said that he had got his old man to look over some houses, and Evans was to come to Finsbury Terrace with me—as we three walked along we saw this bill (produced)—Whistler went up and read it and came away and said "That is the job we done"—in October Evans and I broke into a house in Lancaster Gate, and Whistler stood outside and gave the signal—Evans and I robbed the house, and while we were inside an alarm was given, and we tried to escape—I had to drop from a wall into a mews, and sprained my ankle, and could not get away, and was caught—Evans was also caught—we were tried at Middlesex Sessions, I pleaded guilty and Evans was found guilty and Sentenced to seven years' penal servitude, but on the intercession of a gentleman who came forward I was allowed out on my own recognisances, and immediately went into the gentleman's employment—the police came to me and I told the whole story.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I had never been concerned in a robbery before—I was charged with stealing pigeons with my brother and Martin Mulberry—I cannot remember whether it was Good Friday, 1885—I have done anything else on my own account—in the summer of 1885 I was employed in the refreshment room of the Zoological Gardens—I did not steal any knives there, nor can I say that my mother sold some of them; I know nothing about it—my brother and I did not in 1886 steal a lady's bag containing gold, nor did my mother present Mrs. Matthews with the bag, or pawn it for 30s. at Mr. Batchelor's to my knowledge, or sell the ticket to Mrs. Matthews for 8s.—I did not towards the end of 1884 leave home for a week and break into several churches in the neighbourhood of Highgate—I did not commit a robbery at a wine merchant's in Camden Town at Christmas, 1885, and steal various articles, and among them a pistol, nor did I give you the pistol to look at, nor did you beg me to get rid of it, nor did you give it to Mr. Graham rather than see me use it—I did not steal a case of fishing tackle, a silver fish, or five envelopes bearing Mr. Carlisle's name—my father and I did not break into a factory in Eedhill Street and carry away tools bearing the names of Orton and
Taylor, nor did I place them under the bed when you slept with me—my broker Thomas was not convicted of breaking into a house in Regent's Park and into a chemist's, you have made a mistake—I did not about a fortnight before you left, sleep in a cow-shed loft at Jones's dairy till midnight so that he could let me in to commit a robbery—I did not conspire with my brother Thomas and others in 1885 to break and enter Mr. Leftwich's, the ice merchant's—I cannot say whether my mother has two of Mr. Leftwick's ice blankets in her possession—I did not some time back with a confederate commit a robbery with violence in the Regent's Park—I did not knock a woman down and take her purse and 6l.
Cross-examined by Russell. My mother has rented a house for some years under Mrs. Mattison—they were very friendly—I do not know that they had a quarrel.
STEPHEN JOHN DEXTER . I live at 79, Well Street, Camberwell, and am a builder's foreman—in May last we were making alterations at 4, Audley Square—there was some furniture in a first-floor room covered with cloths—a board was put up "This house to be sold"—I remember an old man who, I believe, was the prisoner Russell, coming to look over the house—he asked me if he could come inside and look at it—there was a night watchman there.
Cross-examined. I only got a slight look at you, but your nose and features and age are the same.
ELLEN STEVENS . I live with my parents at 91, Lockfield Street, Dartford—in May last the prisoner Whistler lodged with my sister, Mrs. Page, and on June 27th I went through the form of marriage with him, and we lived at Mrs. Pages's—he said that he was a dealer—Arthur Gibbs lived in the house, and Whistler paid for him—I saw Russell there twice before my marriage, but not afterwards—he came to see Whistler, and said he was his stepfather, and I was introduced to Russell as about to become a member of the family—Whistler used to receive postal orders from London in letters—he said that they came from his stepfather—that continued the whole time I was at Dartford—Whistler and the boy used to go out together—they some times went to London, and came back at the end of three months—we went to London, and I lived with Whistler at 42, Hethpool Street—I saw Gibbs and Evans constantly after I got to London; they were companions of Whistler—I went one night with Whistler, Evans, and Gibbs to Lancaster Gate—they were then going to do a robbery; I was told that a day or two before—up to that time I did not know that my husband was a dishonest man—I did not go to assist them, but while we were out Whistler stood in the street and struck some fusees, and the next day Whistler got the special Standard and read the arrest of Gibbs and Evans—he said he was sorry the boy had gone, and referred to a 100l. reward being out for him and the boy—before the robbery he asked me if I would take a gin bottle and put some gin in it, and try and get the policeman off the beat, and I refused.
Cross-examined by Russell. I know Mrs. Mattison, Whistler's mother—she sent me down a little parcel of curtains and other things after I was married.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I had had a fall out with another young man before I married you—there were some knives with plated handles
in the bundle sent to me—I was not aware what you were doing when you struck the fusees.
ELIZABETH PAGE . I live at 59, East Street, Dartford—the last witness is my sister—in May last Arthur Gibbs came down and stayed some time with Whistler, who paid me 6s. a week for rent, and paid for the boy's food and everything he wanted—I have seen Whistler receive postal orders for 2l. on Fridays—he said that his father sent them, who had plenty—on a Saturday in June he said that his father was coming to see us, and Russell came down, and Whistler introduced him as Mr. Jones, his stepfather—he showed me a 5l. note, which he said his father sent him to pay the expenses of the wedding.
FRANK OSBORNE . I am a watchmaker, of 25, Poland Street—early in June, Russell came to my shop and showed me some gold earrings and about five loose pearls, which had been mounted, as they were drilled—he selected the two which would match best, to make into earrings, which I did later on—he said that he was in the trade as a dealer—I charged him for them; he paid for them, and took them away—on 7th June he brought this diamond, produced, which I mounted as a ring at his request—he paid me 2l. 2s. 6d. for it, and this is my receipt—on the same day he showed me two emeralds and three diamonds, and said he should like to have them mounted in a half-hoop lady's ring, but he gave no order—on 29th July he brought them back, and asked me to make them into a half-hoop ring—I did so, and gave it to him, and ho paid me 35s.—he also showed me three rubies, and said he should like them mounted in a ring—I said that five would look better—he said he would get two more, and about 1 o'clock he brought three rubies and four rose diamonds, which he said were to be made into a half-hoop ring with four more rose diamonds, which I was to supply—he paid me 2l. 2s. 6d. for that—that was the first time he gave his name Mr. Russell—he has shown me precious stones several other times—he showed me a pear-shaped diamond—I asked him if he would go to a refiner's house—he said he did not know one, but he did afterwards with Johnson and Matthews—he wore whiskers only, then, and no moustache or beard.
GEORGE BARKER . I am a diamond merchant, of 69, St. Martin's Lane—on 1st June Russell came in, and gave the name of Mattison, and he said he was a diamond dealer—he brought a few small diamonds, which I bought for 10l., and paid him by this cheque (produced)—I made an entry in my book—on July 15th I purchased more diamonds of him for 17l. 10s., and paid him by cheque, and entered it in my book—on July 7th I bought more diamonds of him for 8l., and gave him this cheque (produced), and entered it in my book, and more diamonds on August 20th for 19l.—he gave me his card, or wrote down his name and address; it was Mattison, somewhere in Poland Street—I saw Russell in gaol, and picked him out.
FREDERICK CHARLES SMITH . I am chief bullion clerk to Johnson, Matthey, and Co., 74, Hatton Garden—on 19th November a man came and offered a bar of gold for sale, which weighed two ounces two pennyweights, and a bar of silver, 34 ounces three pennyweights; he gave his name Russell—he left them to be assayed, with the object of my buying them—he came next day and I paid him for them, 26l. 16s. 4d.; this is the account produced—he said that he was a friend of Mr. Whistler, which I associated with Mr. Whistler, a
customer of mine in the Strand—I perforate all my notes—I paid him 25l. in notes, and among them was a 10l. note and a 5l. note; these two notes produced are perforated "J. M. and Co."—these things produced might be used for melting gold and silver, the borax is used for the flux—this pair of tongs is used for taking crystals out of the fire—this piece of gold has had a small piece cut off it with the chisel, to ascertain the quality; it is what we call an assay piece—this iron spoon might be used instead of a ladle—our profit on the whole thing was 3s. 6d.
Cross-examined by Russell. I can't swear to you, but you are the man to the best of my belief.
JOSEPH BLAIR . I live at 16, Byham Place, Camden Town—I know Whistler and Gibbs—Whistler asked me to get him some charcoal last summer—he did not say what it was for—I got it and took it to him in the coffee tavern.
Cross-examined. You gave me a shilling, and I fetched fourpennyworth—I went a second time for the same quantity—I think it was on Bank Holiday—you went to some races, and I took charge of your room in your absence—I made no to-do about your room, I was asked and I told them—there was a concert for you at the Cross Keys coffee tavern—you said if we liked we could take the room for the night and make anything out of it we could, and we made 1s. 6d.
SARAH ANN GODDING . I am the wife of Harris Godding, a greengrocer, of Hampstead Road—a man very much like Russell came there in the summer for a bag of chat coal, price 2s. 4d., which he paid—I do not remember selling charcoal to Gibbs, but I did to a boy very much like him.
ELIZABETH JANE STEVENS . I am the wife of Richard Stevens, of 3, Hadley Street, Hampstead Road—I keep a coal and coke shop, and have been there 30 years—it is about five minutes' walk from Robert Street—I do not remember the boy coming there.
JOHN CONQUEST (Police Inspector E). On 5th November, Henry Gosling came to Vine Street Police-station and gave me some information—I then went with Sergeant Tanning to Leicester Square and saw Whistler and another prisoner who is not now on his trial—on 5th November I had Whistler taken in custody on another charge outside a house in Queensbury Place, South Kensington—I saw him searched; some vesuvians were found on him and other articles—on 25th November I took Russell at 20, Bolsover Street, Marylebone, in a bedroom on the first floor—I told him we were police officers, and he would be charged with a man named Whistler in committing a robbery at 3, Audley Square last May—he said "I know nothing about it; you have made a mistake this time"—I took him in custody, searched the room, and found 50 small diamonds wrapped in paper, and four other stones, I am not sure whether they are diamonds or not; a diamond ring, three pieces of broken jewellery, a part of which had a small diamond still in it—there was a piece of gold in a table drawer—I also found a 10l. note, two 5l. notes, and 5l. 10s. in gold—the 10l. note and the 5l. notes are perforated "J. M. and Co."—I also found these large tongs, a pair of pinchers, two bradawls, an iron spoon, burnt at the bottom, some borax, and two tin blowers, which will cover the whole of the fireplace and create a draft—they fit very close—also a pair of blue spectacles, and this bill spoken to by Osborne—when I found the borax I said to Russell
"What is this?"—he said "I don't know"—I took him to the station, where he was charged, and made no answer.
Russell. That tin has never been before the fire, but I had it to prevent smoke.
DENNIS SPENCER (Policeman F 80). On 6th October, about 9.45, I went to 9, Lancaster Gate, and saw a man on the leads of the house, who I found was Evans; I took him in custody—Arthur Gibbs was on the leads with him and jumped off—I said that it was 14 feet, but I think it was more—he got over the rails on to a wall and dropped down into a mews—he had sprained his foot previously, and he hurt it when he fell.
HARRY GOSLING . I am a porter—on 4th November I saw Whistler at the top of Swallow Place, Piccadilly—he spoke to me, and we had a long conversation—I met him again at 11 o'clock the same night at the Cambrian public-house, Beak Street—we went to another public-house, and I asked him who a man was who is not in the dock now—he said, "A poor man out of employment, and I am going to see what I can make of him, as I have lost my little boy, who did the job so well for me at 3, Audley Square"—I asked him what he got from there—he said "A good bunch," or "A good bundle"—I said, "How is it you are so hard up then, if you got that lot of stuff?"—he said that his captain did not part with one hundredth part of what he ought to have had—I asked him why he wanted to part with the little boy—he said that he had done a job for him so well at Lancaster Gate, after dropping a wall 14 feet high—I said, "Was you in that?"—he said, "Yes, but went away after seeing my little boy Arty, pinched," that is "caught"—I asked him how the boy got on—he said that a man named Evans was doing seven years for the Lancaster Gate job, and a gentleman had interceded on the boy's behalf, and he had to come up for judgment when called upon—as we left the public-house that night we saw a bill like this produced, and Whistler pointed to it and said, "That is the bill that is out for me and the boy"—I put myself in communication with the police on Friday afternoon—I acted under their instructions.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I did not inform you that I had just done three months for pawning a coat; I have never been in prison—I did not say that my wife caused me to do it by her keeping the ticket—I believe the bill was in a jeweller's shop in Windmill Street—we met that old gentleman (Russell) long before I left you.
By the COURT. I saw Russell when I was with Whistler; that was when they were going to do the second robbery—I did not mention Eussell in my first evidence, because he would have seen it in the newspaper and made his escape.
By Whistler. You showed me a self-loading revolver and called it a bull dog—gave it to Russell, and he went up White Horse Street, Piccadilly—I told the officers to be careful because the old man had a pistol.
Russell in his defence stated that Gibbs's mother rented a house of Mrs. Mattison, who knew that he was on ticket-of-leave, and vowed that she would get him sent back, but that he continued to report himself every month, and that the police could see that he got an honest living; that he bought jewellery at Debenham's and other sales to sell again, which he did openly; that he reported every change of his residence to the police within forty-eight hours, and that he was not living in Robert Street when the charcoal was fetched.
GUILTY . They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Whistler at this Court in the name of John Draper in February, 1878, and Russell at the Middlesex Sessions in July, 1878. (See page 221).
OLD COURT.—Friday, January 14th, 1887.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
189. THOMAS JOHN DELLER (19) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully sending to the Hon. Colin Campbell a letter demanding money with menaces, well knowing the contents thereof. He received an excellent character, and was recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— To find two sureties in 50l. each, and himself bound in 100l. to appear for judgment if called upon.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
ABRAHAM HOHLER . I am a cab driver, and live at 20, St. James's Mows, near Primrose Hill—it is immediately opposite No. 3, which has been occupied by the prisoner about three years—I have been in those premises on several occasions—there was a three-stall stable and coach-house, and dwelling-rooms above—the prisoner lived there with his wife and two daughters, one about 14 and the other about 11—I recollect a fire occurring on Wednesday, 22nd September—I got home with my cab about half-past 4 that morning—there was no cab standing in the yard outside the prisoner's stable at that time—his cab usually stood in the left-hand corner of the mews—as I drove into the mews I noticed a good light in his stable—as I drove up to my door the light was lowered; it was an oil lamp—I put my horse and cab away, and went upstairs to bed—my wife was partially dressed—she made a statement to me—as I was undressing and about to get into bed, I heard a peculiar sound—I went to my left door, and discovered Fuller's place in flames—I called out "Fire" at the top of my voice as loud as I could hallo a two or three times—there was no cry of fire before that—I slipped on my trousers and boots and rushed down and burst open his stable-door, and I broke open the coach-house door as wel—I then saw the cab and cart inside—the prisoner's dog rushed out with a Piece of rope attached to his collar and nearly threw me down—there was a fire over the first horse in the first stall and a fire in a large tub behind the horse in the third stall at the far end of the stable—the fire in the first stall was in straw packed up on some rafters close to the ceiling, that was all ablaze, and there was a blue fluid fire dropping from the; some fell on the horse and some on the floor, and where it continued to burn for some seconds—when the straw had exhausted itself and fell in burning masses under the horse, there was a hole in the ceiling, where the flooring-boards had been removed; that hole was not caused by the fire—there was ample space in the ceiling to take up a truss of hay—any one in the room above could have passed anything thorough—some few minutes after the fire I saw a quart beer can fall through the hole, and in its descent it struck the first horse on the quarter, and rebounded close to my feet, where it fell, and it was involved in a bluish fluid, which continued
to burn till it was exhausted—the second fire was in the corner of the third stall, in a large tub, that was a reddish flame—there was no communication between the two fires—the partition between the stable and coach-house was not burnt through, only in one or two little places, not sufficient for the fires to communicate—the horses were tied up very securely—I tried to release the first horse, but I could not get near its head, it was plunging about so—it was tied up so that it could lie down if it liked—a man named Avant came first to my assistance—I tried to get water to extinguish the fire—I have a large tub outside my premises, and I used as much as I could get out of that—I then went to Fuller's tap, just inside the coach-house door—I found the tap turned on and the water run off—I pulled out the cab, and my next-door neighbour and some one else assisted me to pull the cart out—after a time the fireengines arrived—I did not see any fire in the coach-house—I saw Helmer go in with a pail of water immediately after the cart was pulled out—I saw the prisoner on the roof about five or six minutes after I discovered the fire—he was dressed with the exception of his hat and coat—I could not say whether he had his boots on; he had on his collar and tie, and I noticed he had his watch and chain on—there was a trapdoor communicating with the roof about 11 feet from the ground—there would be no difficulty in dropping from there—the stable window was broken, and I believe two panes were out of the fanlight over the stable door, and they were blocked up with straw; also the vent holes in the coach-house door; that was done on the Monday previous to the five—after the fire was extinguished I went into the stable—it was 10 or 14 minutes before the fire was put out; it was all burnt through to the roof in 10 or 12 minutes—when I got into the stable, the stable lamp was knocked down as the flooring fell, and it lay there and continued to burn in the same way as the beer can, and it burnt till the lamp was partially unsoldered—there were upwards of a dozen beer cans lying about the floor, and there was one hanging up on a large nail in the coach-house—I examined it; it contained some paraffin oil and a bit of rag or something of that sort in it—that was a quart beer can, with a swing handle across the top—the horses were lying on the ground dead when I went in after the fire—the cart usually stood in the mews—I don't remember the prisoner having any horse on Barnet Fair day—three weeks previous to this fire he had sold one at Barnet Fair—I could not recognise the horse in the first stall, but I knew the horse in the middle stall, it was what we called a hollow-backed mare—I should say the prisoner had had that about a fortnight or something; like that—I had seen him drive it frequently in the cart—the outside value of it was about 3l. 10s.—the horse in the third stall was an old worn-out blind horse—I had only seen that in the cart once, about two or three days before the fire, the value of that was about 30s.—shortly before the fire I had also seen a very heavy horse, almost a cart-horse, in the prisoner's possession; that was not the horse in the first stall, it was a much heavier horse than that—the value of the horse in the first stall seemed to me to be about the same as the blind horse, 30s.—I should say the heavy horse was worth a 5l. note—I heard the prisoner asked on that morning by, I believe, the foreman of the Salvage Corps if he was insured, and he said he didn't know whether his wife had paid the last premium—during the morning, after the fire was extinguished, I saw
the prisoner in a public-house; a man named Frank Haley, myself, and his father were with him—I don't remember any conversation that morning; there was the day after, on the Thursday; the prisoner's father was not there then—Haley said to me "My brother asked me how you are going on, and I told him you were working hard with one horse, and his brother said 'Does he want a horse? if he do he can have one money or no money'"—the prisoner said "Yes, you can have a horse, mate; I will fill up your stable for you if you like, if you keep quiet"—from something I heard on 7th October I went to the Insurance office, and had an interview with Mr. Jobson, the secretary, and after that I was summoned by the prisoner to the Marylebone Police-court for using threats and attempting to extort money—Mr. Jobson was called on my behalf, and the summonses were dismissed.
Cross-examined. When I was inside the premises and saw these different fires I believed the premises had been wilfully set on fire; what my wife said raised that belief in my mind—next morning. I was drinking with the prisoner some considerable time at the Pitt's Head—I don't know whether the prisoner and his family took new lodgings on that day; I wept to their new lodgings, on the Thursday I think it was—he was not at home then, and I went on another occasion and found him at home and remained some time in his company and had a friendly conversation together—he did not tell me that his missus was very much cut up about the fire, and I did not suggest taking her for a ride; I gave them a lift from the corner to the Lord's Cricket Ground—we were going to have a glass together and the prisoner proposed to go to Lord's, and we went there and I drove them back to the Red House again—after that I had the use of the prisoner's cab for six days, and then his wife came up and said I was not to use it any more—there were several police in the mews on the morning of the fire, and also an inspector, whom I knew; and I also knew several of the policemen by sight, but not their names—I did not whisper to either of them that my belief was the place had been set on fire—the Insurance office was not the first place I went to on 1st October—I went first to inquire where the prisoner was insured; I did not go to the police-station—I never said to the prisoner in the presence of Haley "I think I ought to have 10l. when this is finished, and if I don't I will have it on the other side "—that is nothing more than a villainous invention on the part of the prisoner and Haley—I did not see the Insurance agent at the premises the day after the fire, or the second day; I never saw any one connected with the Insurance people—the prisoner complained that the 2nd and 9th of October were the dates on which I had threatened him—I attended before the Magistrate on Wednesday, the 20th, I believe, and I had received the summons on the Friday before—I had been summoned before that by the prisoner, in January of the past year; that was not for an assault, it was a little bother, but we were both dismissed—I was not bound over—I saw a good light in the prisoner's stable when I drove into the mews on this night, and when I got to my own door the light was lowered—there is only one window in the stable and that opens into the mews, but there is a fanlight over the door—the place was not particularly full of smoke when I burst open the door; there was smoke hanging about the ceiling, and after a few minutes it was filled with smoke—the horses were plunging about, and I could not get near them—I saw the prisoner on the top of the roof of his own house—he was not
calling out when I first saw him; a minute or two afterwards he was—he was then leaning up against a stack of chimneys, and I told him to get on two or three stables up—I did not go on the roof—I saw a ladder taken there but he did not come down at once—he was feigning distress—I did not see someone take him some hot rum and water on to the roof—it was taken some few minutes before he was brought down; I did not see him brought down—at the public-house the next day the prisoner said "If it had not been for the dog I should not have been here now "—he told me that the dog scratched him on his breast and woke him up—the premises were in pretty fair repair, about the same as the other houses; they are old stables—every hole in the window on Monday was stuffed up with straw, and also the holes—I have only seen straw in the bottom part of the stable window before—I have never seen him do it in the winter—if it had been there any considerable time I should have seen it—the cart horse was a black horse; I do not know that it kicked down the partition—I believe it was the prisoner's practice to get in the straw on Saturday—so far as I could see there was the usual quantity of straw on this Wednesday as he had on other Wednesdays—I know he had a horse afflicted with a malady called "The Duke," and I know that a compound of paraffin is used for that complaint—I don't know that he used to make that compound and sell it to others—he painted his own vehicles, but he did not keep the paints and varnishes in the loft to my knowledge—the upper part of the premises over the coachhouse is the living room, and there is a bedroom over the back part of the stable; the front room is what we call the loft—he never had any store of paints and varnishes; he bought it in small quantities—when he has been painting I have seen it in ordinary jampots—it is a ceiling through which the hole came—I had not seen the hole there before the night of the fire—I do not know that there was a forge on the premises before the prisoner came there, and that a hole was cut in the ceiling lined with tin acting as a vent-hole for that forge—I first gave evidence at the police-court on 5th November; that was the first occasion upon which the prisoner was brought to answer any charge of this sort—he used to be constantly buying horses—he used to do a bit of coping; that is how he got animals to pull his cab about.
Re-examined. The room above where the hole was was, I believe, used for kitchen purposes, for washing and all that sort of thing—I went to the insurance office to justify myself in consequence of the slander that the prisoner and his wife had circulated about the neighbourhood about me—the prisoner had been, I believe, to the Insurance people to have his claim settled, and when he found his claim was repudiated he thought himself justified in slandering me and my wife, telling people that we had been to the office and told them that he had set fire to the premises and prevented him from getting his money, and that I was to have six months—I had not been to the office before he slandered me.
By the COURT. When I went to the office I asked to see the manager or someone in authority, and I was shown into Mr. Jonson's apartment, and I asked him if he had received any information respecting this fire from my wife—he said "Who are you? what is your name?"—I told him and he said "I have received no information from your wife"—I said "You have none from myself; has anyone written a letter purporting to come from me?" and he said "No"—I did not see the prisoner get on the roof from the room beneath; ho was on the roof when I first noticed
him, about two minutes, I should think, after the dog rushed out of the stable.
ELEANOR HOHLER . I am the wife of the last witness—I recollect the time Barnet Fair took place—on a Monday night about that time there was a fire at the prisoner's coach-house; it was about 11, as near as I can tell—I cannot say where the cart was then, but the cab was in the coach-house; it sometimes stood in there, and sometimes in the mews—I was aroused on that night by Mrs. Fuller calling "Mrs. Hohler" from a window of one of the upper rooms—I went down as quickly as possible, and a Mrs. Smallman and I pushed the stable door open—we found the place full of smoke, and got some water and put the fire out, and then found a heap of sacks and rubbish under the stairs smouldering; there was no flame—we dragged them into the mews, and got some water from a tub at our door, and put it out—there was a tap in the prisoner's coach-house; we tried that, but we could get no water—Mrs. Fuller and her younger daughter Laura were the only persons in the house at that time that I saw—I recollect the second fire on the 22nd September—on the Friday previous to that I saw Mrs. Fuller and her child carrying bundles away, and a washing-bath was carried away also—it seemed like ornaments and different articles in that way, and on Saturday morning a blackbird in a cage was taken away—on Monday night about 10 a loaded cart went away with goods, with some straw on the top—I saw the prisoner on that night, and he asked me had I seen a lady and gentleman at his stable—he said that he had taken a load of straw to a friend who had some horses unexpectedly—I said "Yes, and moving too"—he asked me what I meant—I told him when he was going to do anything not to let children know—the child had said they were to have gone on the Friday night or Saturday morning—he then threatened the child very severely, and said he would punish her, but I didn't catch the words he used—this conversation was about half-past 10 on Monday night—I afterwards met the child on that night, and she was crying bitterly—during Monday I saw the prisoner on his premises putting up a sort of boarding along in the first stall, and filling it with straw, and he also filled the windows, and also the fanlight across the stable door, and the two holes in the stable, with fresh straw—on Tuesday night about 11 I saw the cart go away again, and Mrs. Fuller was sitting on the back, but I could not see who was driving—the prisoner at that time was down in the mews, and closed the coach-house doors after them—the cart was loaded with what had the appearance of being goods—my husband was out with his cab during the night—I saw the prisoner again about 1.30 a.m. on Wednesday morning looking out of the upstairs window, and I saw him crawling about on his hands and knees in the room directly over the stables, pulling up the boards, and I also heard a great rustling of straw, as if he was pulling straw from somewhere—I saw him right up to 3 o'clock at different intervals—the cab had stood in the mews from the time of the first fire, and I saw the cab there on this morning at half-past 2—I again saw the prisoner about 4 or a little after, and I saw him barely 10 minutes before the fire—I sat up all night, because I felt a dreadful dread—I knew there was something wrong, but I thought they were moving, nothing more, and I thought I would see the last of them—at that time I didn't know the day of the month, but I knew it afterwards—about 10 minutes before the fire I saw
the prisoner looking very suspiciously out of the side of the window, with a candle or a light of some description in his hand—I was dressed, with the exception of my dress—when my husband came home I made a statement to him, and in the space of a few minutes we heard a noise of some description, and I said "Hark! he is moving now"—I got up then, and saw the place on fire opposite, and my husband called "Fire! fire!" as loud as he could—up to that time I had heard no cry of fire—my husband directly slipped on some things, and ran down as quickly as possible, and burst open the stable door—I went to the stable door, and saw there was a fire in the back of the stable, evidently in a large tub, and also in the front part over the door—about 10 o'clock in the morning I saw the prisoner, and asked him what message he had sent to me previously, and told him that I had seen him crawling on his hands and knees, and that I had seen him all night, and I told him that he had stated to the inspector that he was in bed, and the dog woke him, and I said "That was not true"—he made no remark, but staggered inside the stable—on the night of the first fire the handrail of the balusters was all right; I did not notice it on the night of the second fire—it would be impossible to get furniture down the stairs with the handrail there; it is got in through the loft door—I did not see any heavy furniture being taken out of the loft—I did not see the prisoner come from the roof; I saw him on there, and he looked then as if he was dressed as I had seen him at the window, but I could not be positive.
Cross-examined. A very old couple of the name of Pearce lived next door to the prisoner; I was on friendly terms with them, although we seldom spoke—on the other side of the prisoner it is an empty stable, and has never been occupied while I have been there, and the next one to that is empty—I was on friendly terms with the prisoner, and had been for 12 months; we were very neighbourly, and the assault summons increased it, because we made friends—it was made up in Court under the auspices of the Magistrate—I have plenty to do besides looking out of the window, I have plenty of work to look after my five young children at home—when I saw the bundles going I was either at the window or the loft door—if I am washing I stand at the loft door, so that the people who were carrying the bundles could see me—I do not know that their washing is done at tie grandmother's, it was always done at home, they were always doing washing—I never saw the wash-tub in the house—I did not see a looking-glass taken away—the prisoner and his wife occasionally had rows—I do not recollect the looking-glass being nearly broken—the bundles appeared to be hard articles, and, were taken at all hours of the day—there are not many cabmen come up that mews in a day—I could not see any goods in the cart, but I saw something which looked like table-legs—I do not know that Mrs. Fuller had gone to Leytonstone on Tuesday night, I saw her at 11 o'clock that night—I knew her daughter was in the country, but did not know where; she was back on Wednesday morning; I did not know that she came back with her mother—I did not see any windows in these premises broken, and I had never seen them stuffed with straw before this Monday; it had been done in the previous winter when it was extra cold—I saw a chaff-cutting machine taken away some time before the fire; I did not see the prisoner trying to take it up into his loft—I am sure the handrail was complete then—I did not see the insurance people next morning
saw some policemen—the insurance agent asked me first about this fire; I could not tell you the date when it was, it was some two or three days after the fire, the day after my husband went to the insurance people because there were such scandals being circulated, and I should have charged the prisoner that morning but my husband stopped me—Mr. Pearce is an old, feeble man, and might have been burnt to death—Mrs. Fuller told me she had sold the blackbird—I met her going out.
Re-examined. Mr. Pearce is over 80 years of age, and his wife is an old woman—they were sleeping there the night of the fire.
RICHARD AVANT . I am labourer—on the night of 21st September I was at work at 18, St. James's Mews, at Mr. Hibbert's, and slept there that night—about half-past 4 a.m. I was awoke by something unusual—I opened the coachhouse door and saw smoke coming out of No. 3, and saw Mr. Hohler in the mews trying to extinguish the fire; I ran towards him—the stable and coachhouse doors were open—on going into the stable I saw fire above the roof, rather over the rear of the second horse, and there appeared to be lying between the first and second horse a bluish kind of fluid, more like out of a mortuary; it was all ablaze; it came through a hole rather larger round than my hat—that hole was not made by the fire, it was more like as if it was broken away—there had been another fire in the stable behind the cart; I saw that when they pulled the cart away; Mr. Hohler had just put it out—the cab had been pulled out—I did not see any fire in the coachhouse—I saw a man go in behind the cart with a bucket of water—I saw the horses in the stable; I tried to rescue them, but could not unfasten them; their heads were reared up, and fire was dropping on them—I was barefooted, and one of the horses trod on me—the ropes were tried in a very clumsy manner, not in a proper way to fasten horses up—I tried to get some water, first at Mr. Hohler's and then at the prisoner's tap, but that was turned on and there was no water—I saw two coats and a hat thrown out of the loft door, I could not say who threw them, I was stooping down at the time to throw some water, and they came on my back—I got a ladder and went up to the loft door, but could not get in—I brought down a bird in a cage—the loft door was open at the left—I gave the coats and hat to a cabman's wife next, and they took them to No. 7—the prisoner afterwards asked for them; he said, "I managed to throw my coats out"—I said, "What a singular thing you could not through the skylight—he had on his socks, trousers, waistcoat, shirt, collar and tie, and chain, no boots, they were in the gutter about two yards behind him.
Cross-examined. When I got there the stable and coach-house doors were both open, and the cab had been taken out—I first drew the cart out and then flew to the water—the only fire I saw was in the stable, barring the one at the back; that was round a tub—the horses were tied up by a rope passed through a ring and knotted at the end, in regular halter style—their pulling against the ring would tighten the knot—when I saw the prisoner on the roof I went up the ladder and asked him to come down—he hung back—he was like in a whining mood—somebody gave him something hot—he wanted the ladder put up higher—the fire-escape came—while on the roof he said "I have to thank the dot for saving my life"—I asked him why he did not throw himself out of the window or jump—the said "Unfortunately I could not trace my way from
he window or door, I found the skylight and got out"—he did not Appear dazed—I said "a child have come down "—I thought it odd He did not—this was on the roof of number 5, the second one from the fire—I now live at 92, westminister bridge road—I did not describe myself as of 114, fleet street—I was asked for a reference, and I gave my uncle's address in fleet street—before this I was at work at Portsmouth dockyard—some days after the fire I met the prisoner—I did not ask him about the insurance company—I did not say "have you got the money?" I said "it is a serious thing for you"—I did not say "let me go there with you, you leave me to talk to the insurance people; you are not used to this, they will do you out of it"—I did not on another occasion say "Hohler is going to kick up a row with you now that you have taken the cab away from him"—I did not say "He is going to the Insurance Company about you, I should make a good witness for you, and of course I must be one the side where the money is, you bet; it may be a good job for me, a good coat on my back, or a piece of gold"—I am not working for anybody now, I am kept out of employment through this case—I have been keeping myself as best I could, working at the snow—the Insurance Company is not keeping me, no one is keeping me, only myself, by casual labour.
JAMES SMALLMAN . I am a bootmaker, of 19, St. James's Mews—on Tuesday, 21st September, about 9 o'clock, I saw the prisoner, and again at half-past 12 on the night of the fire; I went home with him—he said his daughter Annie was coming home, that his wife had gone to fetch her—I said "I am surprised at that, Fred, because you told me she was going for good"—he said "Yes, but we have had a letter to fetch her home, and my wife has gone"—at 4.30 a.m. I heard an alarm of fire—I went out and saw the prisoner's premises on fire, and he on the roof in his shirt-sleeves, without coat or hat—he had on his waistcoat, trousers, boots, collar, and necktie—I can swear he had his boots on; whether he took them off on the roof or not I can't say—I did not see him till he came down the ladder with his boots on—I should fancy he was dressed in the same way as I had left him—I saw the fireman bring him down—I fetched the ladder and asked him to come down and try to save the Horses; he said he never could come down from any high place in his life—before the firemen came I and Hohler pulled out the cab—I noticed nothing in the coach-house—in the stable I noticed a fire over the first and last stalls, in two separate places—it was a kind of blue fluid over the first stall, running from the gutter on to the horse and the ground, and as it dropped it burnt in a blue fluid—I don't remember noticing anything in the ceiling—I had seen the ceiling on the Monday previous, it was then complete, but he was putting up a temporary rack; the windows were all stuffed with straw on the Monday; I had not seen them before.
Cross-examined. I lived in the mews last winter—I don't remember Seeing the windows stuffed with straw then—I was out at work then—the prisoner did not drink with me that night; I met him in Ennis Street and walked with him to the mews at 12.30—he did not tell me that he had chopped some harness for a brown horse—I live next door to Hohler—he is on one side and Hibberd on the other—I was on friendly Terms with all in the mews.
22nd September, about 4.30, I heard the alarm of fire—I went into the coach-house; I saw a fire in there, about three-parts of the way in, towards the staircase—the coach-house side of the partition was not scorched at all—some straw was burning in the coach-house—I put it out—it was a sort of layer of straw underneath where the cart stood—the cab had been removed, not the cart—when I went into the stable all the place seemed to be in flames, the bottom part, underneath the horses and straw—the rack over the horse's head was burning, a bluish looking flame—on the Saturday before I saw a relation of the prisoner coming from the house carrying a looking glass, which was afterwards shown me at the police-court—I know that the prisoner had a brown horse; I saw it the night before the fire in a cart in the mews—I did not examine it; I could not say whether it was in the stable at the time of the fire.
Cross-examined. The looking-glass was partly covered over with a white cloth—the straw in the coach-house was more than a handful; it was lying just under the cart; anyone taking out the cart would see it, it was under the cart, about the middle of the coach-house—in the stable some straw was burning over the first horse, that fell on the horse—there is a doorway in the partition dividing the coach-house and partition—the flaming straw was falling on the horse that stood nearest the doorway.
WILLIAM HIBBERT . I am a stableman, and live at 18, St. James's Hews—I recollect this fire at the prisoner's—I went into the stable and saw a fire over the horse's head in the first stall, and liquid fire was falling on the horse's head—it seemed to fall from the ceiling, through a hole about half the size of a bushel basket—I saw no other fire in the stable—I then went into the coach-house, and about four feet away from underneath the staircase I saw a little heap of straw burning, and I saw Mr. Helmer put it out.
Cross-examined. I noticed this heap of straw after the cart was pulled out, and I saw it while the cart was there; it was underneath the body of the cart—I said before the Magistrate "I noticed something burning there, and a man threw some water on it; it was straw; it was under the stairs at the far end of the coach-house"—I don't know the measurement; it was not exactly under the stairs—I suggested four feet—no one has told me anything about it—I have seen Helmer several times since I gave my evidence at the police-court, and have spoken with him; I knew him before this fire—there was some burning stuff falling on the horse in the first stall, and it was kicking and plunging about.
FRANCIS THOMAS HARRIS (Policeman S 254). From about a fortnight before 22nd September I was on duty at night down St. James's Mews; that is my beat—my hours are from two to six o'clock in the morning—I know the prisoner's stable, and also his Hansom cab—for a fortnight previous to the fire I had always seen that, cab standing in the mews—on the morning of the fire I went through the mews at about 2.30; his cab was then standing in the corner of the mews in its usual place, about 20 or 25 yards from his stable—I went through the mews again at 3.30, and the cab was gone.
Cross-examined. I had been on that beat a mouth or two before—there are other cabs farther up the mews—I go right down the mews—I do not know to whom all the cabs belong, but I know about two of
them; that is because I know the drivers—I know the prisoner—tramps have been known to go down that mews and get into the cabs to sleep, but I have not seen them—it is my duty to see that the cabs are not occupied by tramps—the park is not far from these mews, and when tramps are turned out of the park they come into these mews, but I have not known a cabman find it out and get up and bring his cab in.
MARIA SMALLMAN . I am the wife of the witness Smallman, and live at 19, St. James's Mews—I recollect the fire occurring at the prisoner's early in September, and Mrs. Hohler and I going to the house and helping to extinguish it—it was at the back of the coach-house under the stairs, and it was two sacks and some straw which was burning—I picked some unused matches up on the stairs and gave them to Mrs. Hohler—there was no water on the premises; we got it out of Hohler's tub—I recollect the second fire—on the Saturday before I saw Mrs. Fuller and the child, and Aunt Mary, Mrs. Fuller's mother-in-law, leaving the prisoner's carrying some parcels covered over—on Monday I saw Mrs. Fuller and Aunt Mary carrying away a parcel and a black carpet bag—on Tuesday, the night before the fire, I saw the cart between 9 and 10 o'clock in the coach-house.
Cross-examined. I did not see Mr. Fuller taking out some harness on the night of the fire, and I did not see him bring in a brown horse—I was coming home from my work when I saw these things being taken away—I do not know that Fuller's had a wash-tub; they used my bath—I do not know that some of the washing was done at the grandfather's—I saw the carpenter, McCann, there on the Monday before the fire, and heard him knocking up the partition—I do not know that the black horse had knocked it down, but I Know it was down—the prisoner used to have a good deal of straw in on Saturday—I can't say whether Mrs. Fuller had her dress over her nightdress when this first fire took place; she had her dress on, and she said she had been to bed—the child was dressed in frock and stockings—if Mrs. Fuller had a dress on she had it over her nightdress—I heard Mr. Fuller come home on this night and have a row with his wife, and I came down.
SARAH FREEMAN . I am a widow, and I live at No. 21, St. James's Mews, next door to the Hohlers', and nearly opposite to the prisoner's—on Monday, 20th September, there were some holes in the stable window and over the coach-house door, and the prisoner filled them up with straw—on the Saturday I saw a shelf being put up in the stable, and saw straw on the top of it—it was above the horses' heads—it was a straight piece of wood, like pieces of board—I did not see McCann there; the prisoner put it up over the horses' heads, and then pat straw on it—it was not far above the horses' heads—I do not know that one of the horses kicked down the partition—on the right before, the fire, between 9 and 10, I saw a big black horse taken into the prisoner's stables; it was lame in the hind leg; I think I had seen it two or three days before—on the morning of the fire, about half-past 2, I want to see my children in what we call the loft, and looked out of window—I saw the prisoner looking out of his coach-house door—about half an hour afterwards I heard the prisoner pushing his cab in, and looked out—the cab had been in the corner for two or throe weeks before—I then went to bed, and about half-past 4 I heard an alarm of fire, and went down into the mews, and saw the prisoner's place on fire.
Cross-examined. I had not on any occasion noticed tramps in the cabs—I generally sat up for my brother-in-law—I am often up as late as this—I looked out of window to see what sort of night it was—I did not see the prisoner take out some harness after he had taken the lame horse into the stable, I did not see him go out—he was at work at the stable all day on Monday, fitting up this place, and filling up the holes—I was sitting at my window and saw this—I had never been in his stable before that day, and had never noticed that shelf there; I should not like to swear it was not there—I was at home the whole of that Monday—I know a carpenter named McCann; I did not see him working with the prisoner on the Monday.
Re-examined. When the alarm of fire was given and I went out I saw the prisoner on the house-top.
JAMES HARRIS . I am an engineer in the Fire Brigate—I went to this fire on 22nd September; it was well alight when I got there—I extinguished it by means of the appliances I had at hand there—I first saw the prisoner on the roof, and afterwards when he came down I asked him if he could assign any reason for the fire, and he said "No"—I then asked him if he was insured, and he said he was not certain whether his last receipt was paid up or not; he didn't seem to be sure on that point—I could not say whether the fire was an accident or not—it was thoroughly alight, and it was thoroughly burnt out—after the fire was extinguished I went up from the coach-house into a little loft—I can hardly say whether the handrail of the balusters was there or not—I don't remember seeing a chest of drawers in the bedroom—the horses were badly burnt; I could not identify the colour of them.
Cross-examined. I took a good look round the place before I left, and it would be my duty to report it to the Fire Brigade.
WILLIAM CAUSBY (Police Inspector). I was called to this fire on 22nd September—the prisoner was on the roof of the adjoining stables—he came down into the mews—he had his trousers on and boots—I spoke to him—he said "I was woke up by the dot jumping on my bed. I found the room full of smoke. I hardly knew where I was for a minute, but I found my trousers, and quickly put them on. I then got on the table and tried to get through the trap-door on to the roof, but failing, I tried again, and got through. If it had not been for the dot I should have been burnt to death"—I then asked him if he was insured—he said "I think not; I do not think the missus has paid up this year."
Cross-examined. He had a shirt on, not a coat.
WILLIAM ROBERT BRODRICK . I live in Regent's Park Road—I am agent to the landlord of 3, St. James's Mews—the prisoner was the tenant—he had been there about three years—the rent was 20 guineas a year—on 22nd September two quarters were overdue—the third would have been due on the 29th—I had applied for the rent on several occasions—I could not get it.
Cross-examined. Mr. Taylor was the prisoner's predecessor as tenant—we were in the habit of giving the prisoner time to pay; we did not press him.
HENRY WEEDON COOK . I am a collector of rates for the parish of Marylebone—on 22nd September 2l. 2s. 9d. was due for rates for three quarters of a year—I applied for them—I saw the prisoner's wife—I did not get payment.
Cross-examined. The rates are collected half-yearly—a half-year's rates and three months' over were due.
FRANCIS ALBINE MORTIMER . I am manager of Mr. Ward's horse repository in the Edgware Road—on 13th September I received a mare from Events for sale—it was sold on the 14th for 2 lbs to a man named Fuller—I have a book in which the entry is made.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner as a man buying and selling that class of animal.
ROBERT ALEXANDER NICHOLSON . I am accountant to the London and County Fire Insurance Company—on 23rd July I received a premium for the policy on these stables in St. James's Mews, 4s. 6d.—I cannot recollect how it was paid—it was for 150l., and was due Midsummer, 1887.
Cross-examined. The insurance office is five years old—it was formerly called the Starr Bowkett—the name has been changed two years—I have been in the office four years—the office does not pay persons who give information, even if the information should save the company a considerable sum—the company had not been engaged in litigation before changing its name; I can give you no reason for the change of name—the office did not canvass.
WILLIAM JOBSON . I am secretary to the London and County Insurance Company, of 15, George Street, Mansion House—the defendant's furniture was insured in that office—I produce a copy of the policy. (Read: No. 8151. Premium 4 s. 6d., due Midsummer, 1886, on 150l., 25l. being on the household furniture and 125l. on horses, carriages, harness, stable utensils, and fodder.) The policy was issued July, 1885—the last premium was paid in July, 1886—I went to the premises about 11 o'clock the day of the fire, Wednesday, 22nd September—I saw the prisoner—I asked him whether he could assign any cause for the fire—he replied "No"—he then asked me whether he was insured—I replied "You should know that; why do you ask?"—he said "I do not know whether my wife paid the renewal premium"—I said "You are insured, which is very fortunate for you"—I gave him a form of claim to fill in—I asked him where his wife was, and he said she had been to the Isle of Wight—he believed she had the previous day gone to Leytonstone, and "I expect her home every minute and if you walk with me we may meet her"—he said he had expected her the night before, but she had not come—I asked him when he went to bed; he said one o'clock—as we walked towards Primrose Hill to meet Mrs. Fuller I asked him where he got the horses—I saw that there were three lost—he said he did not know, he had forgotten—I asked him the value of the horses—he said 17l. or 18l.—after some time I casually asked how long he had had them; he said "About a week"—I said "Well, if you had them so recently you must remember where you got them"—after some hesitation he said he had them of Mr. Isaac Haley—I asked where he lived—he said Norfolk Mews—I walked with him and met his wife and daughter—on 29th September following the prisoner and his wife came to our office with the form of claim filled up. (Claim produced for 54l. 18s.) I asked whether they had the policy—Mr. Fuller replied "No, it is destroyed"—I then asked what the number was—they gave me the correct number—I then said it was a strange thing they should
remember the number, the policy being destroyed—Mr. Fuller said "I told my daughter to think of the number in case anything happened"—I then said "Have you ever had any fire before this?" and they denied having had one—then I suggested that they had had a fire two or three weeks before, which they admitted—I asked where the wife was the day of the fire and early the day previous—he said she had started for Leytonstone, but at Camden Town she was taken ill; she left the train and went to see a friend of hers, and spent the night there—I said I had certain information which led me to believe that she was at the mews very late, and I suggested 12 o'clock because I had reason to believe she was there very late—after that both the Fullers admitted she was there as late as 10 o'clock—I told Fuller that we should require more evidence than that which had been given to us, and that we should also require to gee Mr. Haley who supplied the horses, and he promised to bring Mr. Haley to the office—before the 7th October some person gave me some information, and on the 7th or subsequently Hohler called—it was not Hohler who gave me the information—that was the first time I had seen Hohler or had any communication with him or his wife—Hohler asked me to attend at the Police-court—I wrote a letter repudiating the claim.
Cross-examined. On the morning after the fire when I saw the prisoner he appeared very much distressed and said he was a ruined man, or something of that kind—I have no doubt I said before the Magistrate," I went with him; his wife told me she had paid the premium unknown to her husband "—on the 7th October or subsequently Hohler introduced himself as living at St. James's Mews—he said that Fuller had been grossly slandering both himself and his wife, and had accused them of coming to us and giving us information as to the suggested arson, and he wished to know whether his wife had been or whether we had received any information as from him or any third person—I told him that I had neither seen his wife nor knew him before, and that he was not the person who had given us the information—he gave us no information on that occasion; I put one or two questions to him—he was very reluctant to give information, but he seemed very much upset and distressed at what he called the slander—before that I had received information that the fire was not accidental—as near as I can remember it was four or five days before—I promised the person who gave the information to consider the matter confidential, and do not desire to say who it was unless his lordship says I am bound to answer it—I have acted for the insurance company between four and five years—I remember its having another name—it was not the man Avant who gave the information nor anyone appearing in the case—the person who gave the information has not received anything from the company nor any promise nor made any claim—I presume he has acted in the interests of justice and charity.
Re-examined. The Insurance Company is not prosecuting, but the matter is in the hands of the police—when we had information the matter was sifted by the directors—they thought the question of public interest, and instructed me to go to the police—I received from the prisoner's solicitor the letter of the 22nd October, applying for compensation for the loss sustained, and asking for a reply.
paraffin—it was hanging on a nail—a piece of rag was inside it—I found 11 other beer-cans on the premises; I produce two—the others were similar cans to these produced—they were burnt so that I could not see what had been in them—this is the one (produced) which was hanging up in the coach-house, consequently not so much burnt—this other one was found amongst the debris—they were all burnt—I saw a wooden tub at the end of the stable—the inside was all burnt and charred very much, and some straw at the bottom had been on fire, but the fire had been extinguished—the inside of the tub was burnt and round the rim, but outside the woodwork was not burnt at all—where it was exposed to the fire it was scorched a little, but not very much—the floor between the stable and the loft, or what has been here called the loft, I believe was entirely burnt away; it was all gone completely—the floor over the stable was also burned, but the ceiling had not fallen through—the ceiling over the coach-house would be under the floor of the dwelling-room; that had not fallen through—the dwelling-room had been burnt out—there was a mark in the narrow staircase leading from the coach-house where a handrail had been—at the top part the nails were still there which had nailed the handrail to the upright, and the upright at the bottom of the stairs had been sawn off—about three feet of the upright was standing—it was more convenient to get down without the rail—I made inquiries into the matter, and on the 5th November the prisoner was brought to the station—I told him I should apprehend him for wilfully and maliciously setting fire to the dwelling-room of 3, St. James's Mews occupied by him on the 22nd September—he replied "All right; who said I set fire to them?"—I said "You will hear the evidence before the Magistrate, but you can hear the witness's statements now if you wish"—he said "No, I will wait"—I searched him, and found a letter from the Insurance Office refusing to pay the claim.
Cross-examined. The information as to the fire would be received about the 24th October—I received a report—I did not receive information of any importance except from witnesses here.
Cross-examined. They are only the ground floor plans—I was asked about the height of the window at the police-court, and speaking from recollection I carefully understated the distance—I afterwards measured it, and found it was 10 ft. 2 in. from the bottom part of the window of the loft, and 11 ft. from the bottom of the window of the living-room to the ground.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence:
WILLIAM MCCANN . I am a trunk maker, of 21, High Street, St. John's Wood—I was assisting the prisoner in the Mews on the Monday previous to the fire—the partition in the stable had been broken down—it was in such a state as might have been produced by the kicking of a horse—an extra horse had been put in the stall and had broken it down—Fuller said "Look what that big horse has done"—the big horse was standing outside—I asked him if he would allow me to put him in my stable, and he said "Yes"—the three horses were standing there—I took the big horse to my stables in the evening; it was a contractor's horse—I assisted Fuller in fixing the partition and in putting the loft over the partition—the loft had been up before, but the horse breaking
down the stall the loft had fallen in—the loft was a wooden shelf over the horse where they store the straw and fodder—there is a stall and an upright, and from the upright a beam of wood is put across, because in these stables we have no proper loft to keep the forage in, and we had to make a place for it—it was boarded crossways—some panes of glass were broken in front of the house, which we mended, and the holes in the front were stopped with sacking or straw—Fuller and his wife did the painting to the cart and the cab—I believe they kept the paint upstairs in the room over the stable—there are only two rooms upstairs, and a little ante-room—I was helping Fuller about an hour—at the fire I saw Hohler pick up one or two cinders, a buckle or two from the harness that had been burnt in the fire.
CHARLES SELLS . I am a builder, of Skelton House, Berkeley Road—I have been employed by the owners of No. 3, St. James's Mews to look after the premises since 1882—Mr. Broder is the landlord who employed me—there had been a forge on the premises formerly—in 1882 I saw an opening through the roof and through the stable-ceiling over the stalls in the stable—the opening was at the back of the stalls—I saw the opening last in 1884—I visited the premises several times in 1882—the boards were sawn off to the joists.
Cross-examined. There was a hole right through from the stable to the room above—the hole was on the right-hand side over the third stall.
FRANK HALEY . I live at 61, Salisbury Street—I was at Fuller's premises on the day before this fire—I noticed nothing different from usual—the furniture was just as I had seen it before—there was no appearance of articles having been removed—I saw a chest of drawers upstairs—there were three horses—the prisoner was in the habit of changing his horses—on the morning after the fire I was in the Pitt's Head public-house, when Hohler and the prisoner were together—the prisoner did not say to Hohler on any occasion in my hearing, "You can have a horse if you like; I will fill up your stable if you wish, if you keep quiet"—I was present when Hohler and Fuller were conversing together, and heard nothing of the kind—a week after the fire Mr. Hohler and I were talking on the subject, when Hohler said he had had a few words with Fuller, and in conversation he had said he ought to have 10l. from Fuller, and if he did not have it he would see that things would go wrong.
Cross-examined. Mr. Isaac Haley is my brother—he is not here.
ABEL CLARK . I am a member of the London Salvage Corps—on the morning of the fire I arrived at the premises about half-past 5—the fire was pretty well over—I was told to go there and ascertain if the premises were insured—the prisoner said he had refused to pay the insurance or to allow his wife to pay it, and he was under the impression that the premises were uninsured, and as his wife was not there I was left behind till his wife arrived home, to ascertain the truth—the prisoner appeared very much cut up—I went over the premises—I have had two years' experience in connection with fires—on coming upstairs the place had the usual appearance with regard to furniture—there was a chest of drawers there, and some pots and pans and things, the usual articles which one would expect to find in a living room—I did not look round for a table—evidently the room had not been swept clean out before the fire, nor was there anything to suggest that suspicion to my mind, but
just the opposite—it would have been my duty to have reported anything suspicious.
Cross-examined. There had been a fire—the horses had been burnt out—the sitting-room floor was intact—part of the ceiling was taken down—I mean by there being nothing suspicious, that when a man tells you with tears in his eyes that he is not insured, nobody would think there was anything suspicious, especially when he said he was ruined—he said he had told his wife to go somewhere where she ought not to go—it was impossible to tell whether the fire took place downstairs or not, or in the coachhouse—I should think the fire took place in part of the stable, No. 3 stall—you can tell whether there were one or two fires by the charred wood—I only went upstairs once—I could not tell you the state of the room before the fire.
Re-examined. I could not tell what sort of a ceiling it was—you could walk over the top of it, because I chased a cat over the top to kill it—the debris was most charred in the, farthest stall from the door of the stable—I think the fire must have originated in that corner, because the ceiling above that was all burnt down, and after chasing the cat upstairs it fell down through the floor in that corner just as I hit it.
FREDERICK FULLER . I am the prisoner's father—my housekeeper is Mrs. Fossbury—she took Fuller's washing backwards and forwards at times, and sometimes did it there—she used a bath generally; it belonged to my son—it was kept sometimes at one place and sometimes at the other—it was brought backwards and forwards to our house—I took a looking-glass from my son's place to my house in consequence of what my son's wife said—I was not on the premises upon the night of the fire—I was there the night before the fire—I attended to the horses myself—I had driven out the cart that evening—Mrs. Fuller was with me—she was going to Chalk Farm Station to fetch back her daughter—I took her there—there was no furniture or anything in the cart except a little straw for the feet—we generally put a little in the bottom of the cart—it is not true that we drove the cart that evening loaded with goods—it was about 7 o'clock when we went out—I did not drive out the cart either earlier or later with goods covered with straw—Mrs. Fuller and I were going to part at Chalk Farm Station, and I was going to bring the horse and cart back—she said "We will have a drop of beer before we part," and she put her hand in her pocket, and said "I have not got it, I have left my purse at home"—so I brought her back with me—she Went upstairs while I was unharnessing the horse, and I saw no more of her afterwards—I unharnessed the horse and put the cart in—when I last saw the living-room it was in its usual state; containing furniture, pictures, and so on—I do not know whether the daughter came that night; we did not meet her at Chalk Farm Station—I did not go upstairs.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Fuller was to go to Leyton, and come back again—I left St. James's Mews about 7.40.
EMILY EDITH FULLER . I am 14 years of age next March—I am the daughter of the prisoner—on the day of the lire at my father's place I was staying at Leytonstone with an aunt, Mrs. Dick—I had been there three weeks and a day—my mother came for me on the Wednesday morning—the day before she came my aunt gave me a letter to post—she arrived a little after 9 o'clock in the morning—I was staying with my aunt because she had no servant—she got a servant before she gave me
the letter—it was arranged I should go back—my mother was sent for; she took me home—on the way home we met my father and Mr. Jobson—my father was crying—Mr. Jobson gave mother a paper—mother said nothing about the paper; she said "What a dreadful death for the horses—Mr. Jobson said they were suffocated, they were not burned—he said to my father "It is a lucky thing you have insured, Mr. Fuller"—my father was not fully dressed; he had no stockings on, and only a neckerchief round his neck—he had no collar or tie on—I went with my mother to look for apartments—Mr. Hohler came to the apartments—I remember the insurance being paid—my father knew nothing about it, because father told mamma that it had run out, and she was not to pay any more—my mother paid it by a postal order—I got the order; I posted the letter—the water was let off every evening to cleanse the drains—there was a cistern—the water came in usually in the morning between 6 and 7 o'clock—either I or my sister or my mother would let the water run off in the evening—I have done it several times after father changed—about two pails of water were first drawn off for use when father came home—that was not always so; we used to get water from the tap opposite—we used it to cleanse the water closet—I believe a wheelwright occupied the premises before my father—I had never been there, but I have heard my father say so—there was no ceiling to the stable, you could see the bare boards and rafters over the horses, and there were several holes in the roof—one was a round hole with tin round it—that was away from the door, and over the third stall—one other hole was in the front room—there were several holes all over the place—the front room was the living-room—my father kept paints in the loft over the stables—the loft is divided into two rooms; a front room and a back room upstairs—the back room was used as a bedroom, and the front as a storeroom—my father kept his paints in a box or in baskets in tin cans—there were several of them—as many as twelve.
Cross-examined. I did not go to Leyton alone; my mother and sister went with me—I sometimes travel alone—I expected my mother on Tuesday afternoon—she was not going to stay the night—my aunt knew that my mother was coming on the Tuesday in the afternoon—I posted the letter in the morning—I did not know my father thought of moving at that time, nor anything about it—the water was turned off in the coach-house every night—summer and winter we used to allow all the water to run away after my father changed; that was at different times in the evening, because we had so many horses killed—I said at the police-court "The water-closet was in the loft; it was cleansed by letting the water off every night"—it used to be let off to cleanse the water-closet and to cleanse the drain—there was a tap upstairs and one downstairs—they did not use the water that passed through the water-closet in the coach-house for the horses—the cistern was upstairs—there is a ring in the closet which you pull—we should not be able to flush the closet in the night—there has been a large hole over the first stall since we have been there, round the pipe of the water-closet which came down through the first stall—the water-closet was in the front loft—my father's paints were over the third stall—the water-closet was in the corner, then the cistern, then the paints—the boards were broken all round the place.
Re-examined. Father said his horses suffered from disease in consequence of the drains—he lost some horses, that is why the drains were
flushed—both upstairs and downstairs taps were turned on—the top tap let the water down the closet—there is a sink underneath opening to the drains—my father kept a dressing, made of paraffin oil and tobacco in a tin can—that was used for the horses—my father made it.
LAURA FULLER . I am 11 years old in August—I remember being at home with my mother when there was a fire—I was in bed and undressed—my mother was in bed with me undressed—I turned over and woke up; I found a lot of smoke in the room—I awoke my mother; she said "Oh, it's nothing, somebody is putting wood on their fire "—I went to sleep, but woke up again because I turned over—there was a rare lot of smoke in the room, more smoke than fire—I spoke to my mother a second time—we got up and called Mrs. Hohler and put the fire out—the remainder of the night we passed in another house—I remember a looking-glass being taken away, because dad said he would smash it—he had been angry—we let the water run off until it was all out—I did it myself sometimes, and sometimes my mother or sister did it, to cleanse the drains, usually before we went to bed—I sometimes drew off water for father, that was put into a pail—my father kept paints in the loft in a bushel basket—the paints were put into bottles and cans and jars; he also kept varnish—he did his own painting up there—he kept the dressing in a quart can—he made the dressing of tobacco and paraffin oil—he used it for his horses—I was not at home at the second fire—I had been to my grandfather's—I had often been there before; it was a usual thing for mother to go there occasionally—when I left my grandfather I was taken to some lodgings—my grandmother did the washing in the bath; it used to be fetched from father's; it was taken backwards and forwards—mother used it for soiled linen—the coach-house door was fastened with a chain—something was put over the broken windows, a piece of cloth or something, and straw was used for the holes in the stable windows.
Cross-examined. My mother meant some neighbour had put wood on the fire in the grate—we had no fire in our house—I did not say at the police-court "Water was let off to cleanse the drains"—I said "The water-closet was in the loft; we let the water run down there at night, and it had all gone"—it was to cleanse the water-closet and to cleanse the drains too.
Re-examined. My father said something about a horse dying, that was the reason we wanted to cleanse the drains.
GEORGE HAMPSHIRE . I am a member of the London Salvage Corps—about a fortnight after the fire at St. James's Mews the witness Hohler came to me—he asked me the address of the insurance company—I asked him what he wanted to know for—he said "There has been a lot of scandal about my wife and his wife"—I said "I wish to know nothing at all about it"—he said "I wish to find out the name of the office; I mean to put the b—away"—I cautioned him that what he was saying wanted a lot of proving—he said he could fetch a man to the front to prove that he (Fuller) had promised 10l. to set fire to his place a fortnight or three weeks before the present fire—I said "That will want a lot of proving; you will have to be very careful what you say"—he said "I can fetch all the b—mews up," and he meant to get the b—five years, as his wife and Fuller's wife had been scandalising each other, and it had been all about the fire—I referred
him to the office in Marlborough Street to see the witness Clark—I did not know the office he was insured in.
Cross-examined. Hohler said Fuller's wife had accused his wife of going to the office and rounding on him, and "Now I am going to the office to round on him."
WILLIAM DICK . I live at Eagle Villa, Leytonstone—I am brother-in-law to the prisoner—Eagle Villa is my freehold property, and the four houses adjoining—I am the proprietor of the Cement Company three miles from those houses, and I hold a patent for it—my bankers are the London and Provincial Banking Company—I have banked with them for 13 years—the prisoner has been a cab proprietor for many years; of three or four cabs to my knowledge—I married his sister—I was always ready to assist him when he applied for it; if pressed for a quarter's rent or anything of that kind he could have had it—I was willing to assist him if necessary.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, January 14th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
191. ALFRED STAFFORD PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully making in a banker's pass-book false entries of 88l. 7s. 10d., 37l. 11s. 8d., 24l. 3s. 4d., and other sums, with intent to defraud. He received a good character.— Judgment respited.
192. ALFRED STAFFORD was again indicted for stealing a banker's cheque, the property of George Augustus Oliver Conquest, his master; also for embezzling 24l. 3s. 4d., 21l. 10s., 88l. 7s. 10d., and other sums, of his said master, upon which MR. FULTON offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
193. WILLIAM WHISTLER and CHARLES RUSSELL were again indicted with EDWARD HOPPER (20) for conspiring to break and enter the dwelling-house of Eddry Kennedy, and for having certain housebreaking implements upon them for that purpose. (Seepage 199.)
MESSRS. POLAND and GILL Prosecuted.
HENRY GOSLING . I am a porter, of 18, Hereford Street, Lisson Grove—on 14th November I met Whistler and Hopper at Swallow Place, Regent Street—I did not know Hopper, I have known Whistler 10 years, "but had not seen him for eight years; he asked me how I was getting on, and said "I and my captain looked at a house last Saturday"—I said "What kind of job is going to be done?" he said "A busting job"—I said "What do you mean?" he said "Oh, I mean a crack"—I asked him where it was coming off, he said either Queensberry Place, Terrace, Gardens, or Square, I forget which; he said he had noticed an old lady in the house shaking mats in the passage, that it was an empty house, and the house next door was the one they were going to break into—I was to meet him that night at Beak Street, Regent Street, by the Cambrian public-house—I then walked a little way with him and left him—Hopper was there during the conversation—I went to the Cambrian public-house at 10 o'clock and met Whistler, and after walking with him some distance we went into a public-house in Brewer Street and had something to drink, and while there he asked me if I could meet him at one of the gates of Leicester Square next morning, at 12 o'clock—I asked him who Hopper was, he
said "A poor man out of work," and he was going to see what he could make of him, as he had lost his little boy Arty—I asked him where Hopper came from, he said from St. Martin's Lane, from the place where he was lodging—he said he was very sorry he had lost his little boy, who had done the job so well in Audley Square, and he dropped a 14 feet wall and got pinched for it, and that the captain did not part up with a hundredth part of what he had—we went into a by-street where he showed me this reward bill about Audley Square—I said "Now suppose the boy rounds on you?" he said "The boy cannot round, because all the stones are unsetted and the gold is melted down"—he asked me to meet him next morning, Friday, which I did, and I left him at 20 minutes to 1, and got to Yine Street about 12 minutes to 1, and saw Conquest, and told him what Whistler had told me, and acted under his directions from that time—I met Whistler in Leicester Square at 12 o'clock on the Friday; he was just inside, reading a board, and Hopper was on the left-hand side—Hopper said "You have come;" I said "Yes"—he crossed over to Whistler, who gave him a small long parcel wrapped up, and said "Take this"—Hopper put them inside his coat in a pocket, and we all three walked into St. James's Street, Piccadilly, and went into a public-house, because it was raining hard—we came out and went to a public-house at the back of South Kensington Railway Station—Whistler said "Wait here while I get my man in"—I said that I would wait, and left them together—I let them get about a dozen yards, and then followed them and hid myself in a doorway at the corner of Queensberry Place, where there are two large pillar-posts; I watched and saw them go on the doorstep of No. 22, which was an empty house; Hopper went in and Whistler came from the doorstep—I ran back to the public-house where Whistler had left me—he came there and said "My man is in, we have got to be there between 7 and half-past"—it was then about 7 o'clock—he said "Between 7 and half-past go to the door, and you must scratch it, and Hopper will let you in"—that was the door of the empty house—I said that I would—we went up the Brompton Road a little way, and he took a silver-barrelled revolver from his pocket—I said, "What are you going to do with that?"—he said, "I will knock the first b—'s heart and liver out who tries to arrest me when I get the stuff"—I said, "For God's sake, don't take any man's life, as you might get into serious trouble"—he said, "I shall have to do something to defend myself, as Hopper is going to defend himself with the jemmy he has; the captain is coming to meet me, you call him Jimmy, I will hand it over to him," meaning the revolver—when we got to White Horse Street, Piccadilly, on the right-hand side of the park railings, he said, "Here comes the captain," and Russell came up—Whistler said, "The man is in, be down from 7 to half-past "—he said he would be there with a Hansom's cab—Whistler then said to Kussell, "Take this, this man seems afraid," handing the revolver to him, and Russell went up White Horse Street—I went on with Whistler to the corner of Oxford Circus, and left him there—he asked me if I would meet him at the public-house in Park Lane at 6 o'clock; I said "Yes"—I went to Vine Street about 4 o'clock, and told Mr. Conquest all about it—I went to the public-house at, 6 o'clock, and Whistler came about 6.30—I was standing outside—he asked me about some matches, and I gave him two boxes of matches which I had received from the police—he wanted them as a signal for Hopper, who was in the house—he said,
"The old gentleman will be there from 7 to 7.50, and you and I are to go to the front door, and I will light three fusees; two is the signal to go into the house, and one to come out"—I asked him what made him so late—he said, "I have been talking to my captain about this job "—he put the matches in his pocket, and we both walked to Queensberry Place and got there about 7.15—Whistler went to the front of the house, lit two fusees, and walked away—I went to the front door of the empty house to see if Hopper was there; I heard a whistle in the mews; I walked up about seven or eight yards and saw Hopper—I said, "Halloa, how did you get out of the house?"—he said, "The old woman came out where I was hiding, so I had to come out, after hitting her on the head with one of the instruments"—at that moment Conquest came up and took him, and I went after Whistler—I found him outside the same public-house which he had left me at the previous Thursday—I said, "You had better come round to the front of the house and see if you can see your man"—he went to the front of the house, and lit some more fusees, and walked away, and was taken in custody—when he showed me the revolver he showed me how it worked; he said, "Every time you pull it it re-loads."
Crow-examined by Whistler. I declined to answer some questions before the Magistrate because I have been brutally knocked about by your associates, who have been convicted at the Middlesex Sessions—one of your chaps, Howard, was convicted in 1878 and got hard labour—you were mixod up with him, and I have not seen you for eight years, because, being well known in Marylebone, you shifted out—No. 20, the house you were going to break into, is next door to No. 22—after you came from the door step you went round the longest way to the public-house, and I went the shortest and got there before you came back.
Cross-examined by Russell. I did not mention your name on the first examination, the police told me not—I did not see a cab there.
Re-examined. I was told not to mention Russell's name because he was not in custody.
MARGARET WATSON . I am a widow—I was taking charge of 22, Queensberry Place for Mr. Douglas—the family had left in February, and most of the furniture had been removed—the adjoining houses were occupied—on 5th November, a few minutes before 6 p.m., I was in the back dining-room, and had a lamp—I heard footsteps coming downstairs, went out, and saw Hopper coming down from the drawing-room floor—he said, "I am very sorry I disturbed you"—I said, "Are you one of the workmen?"—he said, "No, I fell asleep"—there had been workmen there painting, but they had left at 3 o'clock—he said, "I came in out of the rain and fell asleep, and when I woke up I was surprised"—he asked me whether it rained, and I said I thought it did—he either said that he was going to Fulham or came from Fulham, and was very tired—I asked him if any one else was upstairs; he said "No"—I said, "If you pull the catch the door will open"—he said, "lam very sorry I disturbed you," and went out—the door was constantly open while the workmen were there, but I closed it about 5 o'clock, thinking all the people had left—Hopper did not strike me—I had not shaken any mats that day, but on the Saturday before I shook some table-covers with the front door open.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I have been there a year as care taker—Hopper did not offer to strike me.
GEORGE MUIR . I am foreman to Mr. Douglas, a builder, and was in charge of the men working at 22, Queensberry Place—on 5th November I saw the windows fastened before I left—there are two front windows in the top front room, one with iron bars and the other with a swing gate with a thumb-screw, which can easily be unscrewed—there is a parapet outside leading to the houses on both sides.
Cross-examined by Hopper. I left at 3 o'clock—I did not see you in the house.
ELIZABETH THOMPSON . I live at 20, Queensberry Place, South Kensington, and am parlour-maid to Miss Constance Kennedy—on 5th November the next house was unoccupied—my attic window opens like a gate, and is easily opened.
JOHN CONQUEST (Police Inspector C). On 5th November, about 11.30 a.m., Gosling came to Vine Street Station and gave me information, in consequence of which I went in plain clothes with Sergeant Tallin to Leicester Square, and saw Whistler and Hopper meet Gosling—I left Tallin there to watch, and at 4.30 Gosling came again to the station, and made a further communication to me, in consequence of which I went with Inspector Bonner and Tallin to Queensberry Place, South Kensington—I got there about 6.30, and watched the empty house, No. 22—about 7.30 Hopper came up with Gosling; they were about 40 yards from the house—I went up to Hopper, and said "I am a police-officer; I want to know what you are doing here?"—he said "Nothing; I am going home "—I took him in custody, and found this steel Jemmy and chisel and table knife (produced) under his waistcoat, tucked out of sight and wrapped in a small piece of canvas, and then in the paper, and tied tightly round with string—I said "What are these?"—he said "They are my tools, and I am going to do a job with them"—I said "This is a jemmy?"—he made no answer—I told him he would be charged with being in the possession of implements for the purpose of committing felony, and took him to the station, where he was charged, and said he knew nothing about it—Gosling had given Russell's description, and I arrested him at Bolsover Street on November 25th, and found the things mentioned yesterday—Hopper gave his address, St. Martin's Chambers, St. Martin's Lane, the same address as Whistler; it is a common lodging-house.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I did not see you give Hopper any tools—I did not see you on the doorstep, but I saw, you opposite the house when you struck a fusee—you had a pipe in your hand, and held the fusee to it—I took it from you.
Cross-examined by Hopper. You were perfectly sober.
Cross-examined by Russell. When I knew who you were I could get your address from Scotland Yard—I did not know you were a ticket-of-leave man till a few hours before I arrested you.
EDWARD TALLING (Detective Sergeant C). On 4th November, between 12 and half-past, Gosling came to Vine Street Station and saw me—I told him to come and see Inspector Conquest in the morning—on November 5th from what had been told me I went to Leicester Square, and saw Gosling meet Whistler and Hopper—they went towards Pall Mall, and I lost sight of them near South Kensington Railway Station—I
saw Gosling again that day at the police-station, and from what I beard I went with Conquest and Borner to Queensberry Place about 8 p.m., and saw Whistler opposite No. 20 or 22 striking some fusees—I went up to him, and said "lam a sergeant of police, and shall arrest you for being concerned with another man in attempting to commit a burglary in Queensberry Place"—he made no reply—I searched him at the station, and found a box of silent matches, a box of fusees, two pawn-tickets, and an old kid glove—I had got those matches from another officer, because Gosling had no money to pay for them.
Cross-examined by Whistler. Gosling saw me the first time he came, that was between 12 and 1 o'clock—he told me he had just left you—he came again next day at 11.30, and I was present—I did not see you pass any tools to any one, as I was afraid to get too close to you in case you should get suspicious—it was a wet morning—I followed you through all the streets, and saw you go into a public-house near the Haymarket, and lost you for a short time.
EDWARD BORNER (Police Inspector). I was with Conquest and Tailing on 5th November—I saw Hopper come out of the Mews—Conquest followed him—I saw Whistler shortly after 7 o'clock coming down the opposite side to No. 22, and when he got opposite he struck some matches, walked away, and was taken in custody—I afterwards went up to the attic window; there is an iron bar and an iron swing gate which fastens with a thumb-screw—it was open about six inches, and the window catch was unfastened—you could get along the parapet to the next house; it is a means of escape in case of fire.
Cross-examined by Whistler. I searched you in the street, and found Borne matches in your pocket—I did not take them from you.
Whistler's Defence. A silver pistol was stolen by Arthur Gibbs in 1885, and the informer Gosling states that this was a silver one. Carrying a pistol is a thing I never did in my life. Three remands took place before it was produced. The prisoner Russell was never in my company.
Hopper's Defence. I was given beer and tobacco when I had had nothing to eat, and the beer overcame me. I went into the house out of the rain, and fell asleep, and when I came to my senses I found this parcel on me. I was making my way to Charing Cross when I was arrested.
Russell's Defence. Gosling never said a word about the pistol or about me in his first examination. I never saw him in my life till I saw him at the Court, and never had a pistol in my hand in my life; this has been got up in order to connect me with it. I never saw a cab, or had anything to do with one. There was no necessity to give any description of me. Mr. Conquest only had to go to Scotland Yard or the nearest police-station to get my address.
GUILTY .—WHISTLER**— Six Months' Hard Labour on the bigamy indictment, and Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude on the burglary indictments, to run concurrently . RUSSELL**— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude . HOPPER— Recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing him to have been decoyed into the crime.
The RECORDER ordered 100l. compensation to Mrs. Caldwett, the notes being handed to her in part payment, and also awarded 25l. to Gosling for his good conduct, in the face of very great peril. The COURT and the Grand Jury commended the conduct of Inspector Conquest.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, January 14th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
194. CHARLES JOHNSON (46) and JOHN GREEN (42) , Being found with housebreaking implements in their possession, and being found by night in the shop of Isaac White, with intent to commit felony therein.
MR. PARKES Prosecuted.
ISAAC WHITE . I am a jeweller, of 24, Ludgate Hill—at a quarter to 1 a.m. on 18th December I was called to my premises by several constables—I found everything quite safe—no people reside in the house—there were jewels, watches, and the usual contents of a jeweller's shop there.
GEORGE WELHAM (City Policeman 502). On 18th December, about 12.45, I was on Ludgate Hill by Stationer's Hall Court—I saw Green and another man not in custody, under the lamp-post opposite No. 24, about 3 yards from the shop, on the footway facing the shop—I heard Green flay "Cheese it, Bill"—that means "stop it," I believe—it excited my suspicion; I took no notice, but looked at several doors, and found No. 24 just behind them had been tampered with—I had examined that door 10 minutes before, and it was quite safe then—there is a little porch to No. 24 before you enter the door itself, and inside is a lobby about a yard square—in the centre of that outer door, about 4 ft. 6 in. from the ground, there is an inspection-hole about 6 inches square, with iron railings; it looks into the lobby—I looked through and saw Johnson crouched down inside—I took no more notice; I walked as far as Ave Maria Lane with my light on to get assistance—I found I could get none at the time, so I came back again—Green and the other man were about to separate—I said "No you don't," and seized Green by the collar, and pushed him into the doorway of 24, the other man bolted—Johnson, hearing the scuffle outside, ran up the staircase—Harvey had arrived at that time, and I handed Green over to him, and sent for Mr. White, who lives at No. 6—he found he could not unlock the door, it had been tampered with—with the assistance of two more constables I managed to force the door open and went upstairs—on the second floor back room the window was thrown open as far as it could be—towards the left, outside, a little drain-pipe runs down the corner of the house to relieve the roof of water—there were marks on it as if something had slipped down there—I searched the premises, but found no one there—I went out and woke up the people at No. 22, another jeweller's shop, Wales and McCulloch's, who gave us permission to pass through their passage to the yard at the back of their premises, which covers the whole of Mr. White's back premises as well—I searched the premises there, but could not find the prisoner, but I heard about 10 minutes afterwards that he had been caught in a packing-case—before I went there I had examined the shop-door of No. 24; the lock had been tampered with—that was one of three doors; there is the outer door, and inside that there are two doors, the shop door on the left and a door leading up the staircase; the street-door only had been tampered with—I found Green at the station when I went there—I searched, and on him found this brace, two bits (they are housebreaking implements), a box of matches, a piece of candle, a key, a strap, and 9d.—on Johnson I found a piece of candle, an
old spoon, a purse, with an imitation shilling in it, and a letter addressed to Goodson—this knife I picked up in the morning in the lobby where Johnson had been—when charged Green gave his address as 27, Neal Street, Long Acre, and his occupation as a naturalist—Johnson said he was a sweep, and lived at a common lodging-house.
Cross-examined by Johnson. I saw you go upstairs—you are paralysed a little on the right side, I believe.
Cross-examined by Green. I saw no marks on the outside of the street door—I had looked through the inspection hole before, and I saw the jeweller's shop was quite secure—I believe it would take some time to open—the door entering the shop was properly secured with two padlocks—I saw no marks on the door till I got inside—I and the other policeman had forced the door open then; it may have been injured by our forcing it—the shop and corridor is lighted by gas, so that you can see into the corridor—I did not see you nearer than three or four yards to the door till I pushed you—I knew the door had been tampered with though I saw no marks on it—I went to 27, Neal Street; I saw no man named Holloway there, nor anyone who said they knew you by my description—I saw the landlord of the house—I got there about 3 a.m.—he said he knew nothing at all about you—he had not very long black whiskers—I did not show him this key.
Re-examined. We had to carry Johnson upstairs at the station, he was bad then—he went upstairs from, the lobby on his hands and feet—he opened the door between the lobby and the stairs, and went upstairs—that door is a swing door open free for anybody—it would have shut directly he went through but that going up on his hands and feet I saw him go a little way before it shut—he did not move so wonderfully quickly—the staircase is immediately in front of the outer door, and the jeweller's shop at the side—the staircase does not communicate with the shop.
WILLIAM HARVEY (City Policeman 408). About 12.45 on the morning of 18th December I was on Ludgate Hill—I saw Welham signal for assistance; I went to him and found that he was holding Green in the doorway—he asked me to hold him, as there was another prisoner inside the shop—I took him to the station—he was charged—he made no answer.
WILLIAM SOAMES (City Policeman 520). On this morning I went to 24, Ludgate Hill to assist Welham—he left me on the first floor landing while he searched the upper part of the house—I afterwards went to 22, Ludgate Hill, where I found Johnson secreted in a packing case between Wales and McCulloch's two shops, which are distinct, with the passage running between them—the passage is covered and runs from the yard, which connects the back of 24 and 22, into the street, but there is a door at the end of the passage which would prevent Johnson from getting into the street—there were marks on the pipe where Johnson had lowered himself down—I pulled him out of the case and took him through the door which the other constables opened, into Ludgate Hill and to the station—when charged he said nothing.
By the JURY. He seemed very lame on the way to the station; he walked but seemed very obstinate when we first got him out; we had to use a little force with him—he walked to the station.
Johnson's Statement before the Magistrate. "I really could not do anything
of the sort that they have stated, as I have not been able to run for five years."
Witness for the Defence of Johnson.
By the COURT. He might possibly go up on his hands and knees.
Cross-examined. His movements are very slow—he would find it difficult to crouch—he could get into a packing case, but it would take him some time to do it.
Johnson in his defence said that he only went there for shelter to sleep. Green urged that the things found on him would be of no use in breaking open a shop, and said that he had the candle because he had just left his lodgings.
GEORGE WELHAM (Re-examined). There is no getting to the staircase from the back, and Johnson could not have entered by the street door, he must have got into the premises in the daytime and concealed himself in an empty office—he could not walk into the passage at night, nor into the yard.
JOHNSON— GUILTY ** of being on the premises with intent to commit felony. GREEN—GUILTY of having housebreaking implements in his possession.— Judgment respited.
The Grand Jury commended the conduct of Welham. The COMMON SERJEANT and Jury concurred in this.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH WOODS . I am the wife of James Woods, an omnibus attendant, living at 57, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea—on 28th December, about 6 p.m., I was going alone along Church Street towards the King's Road—the two prisoners came up together and Hunt said "Will you give me money for a night's lodging?"—I said "I have little enough for myself without giving to you"—they left me and I went on—I made purchases and returned in about 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour on the other side—when near the rectory and a few yards from the bottom of the street where I lived, the prisoners sprang from the other side, jumped right on me, and tore the buttons off my jacket to get my watch out—the chain was fastened on a button, and they pulled the others off with it—it was a gold plaited, twisted chain and a gold watch—I tried to save the watch but could not keep it; they frightened me—the chain was not visible before as I had on a silk jacket and a large cape—I screamed "Murder" and "Police," but no one came—the watch came away when they pulled the chain—the prisoners ran away—I then went back to the shop and spoke to Mr. Skinner, the proprietor, and I met two policemen and went to the station-house with them—on 4th January I picked out the two prisoners from six or eight other men.
Cross-examined by Murray. I did not catch you, you jumped on me so quick, but Hunt was above me and I knew him, being so tall—I picked you out at the station.
Cross-examined by Hunt. I picked you out directly—the constable did
not say "The tall man is one"—I did not Bay it was no good looking, I did not know the men.
Re-examined. I gave a description to the police before I went to the station.
JAMES DAVIS . I am an engine fitter, and live at 13, Brougham Street, Battersea—on 28th December, about half-past 11 p.m., I was in the Haberdashers' Arms, Calvert Road, Battersea, playing with some friends, when Hunt walked in and Murray followed him—Murray called for two half-pints of four ale and both went into the taproom, Hunt first—they went towards the fire and Hunt raked it with his hand—then he came out and took this watch out of his pocket and showed it to us—he said to one of the young men there "If you tell us where we can sell it I will give you a quid out of it"—he said also he did not get those things in workhouses—he threw a piece of a chain about the length of an Albert on the table, it looked like gold—some one said to Hunt, "Put them in your pocket, we don't want them"—they spoke to a man named Wood and tried to get his watch, and then went together out of the public-house—I and four friends of mine followed them up to the top of the Calvert Road, where Hunt went into the Crown beershop, Murray standing outside—Hunt came out after a few seconds and they walked together towards the Clock House—I saw one or two constables coming along; I spoke to them and saw the two prisoners taken into custody.
Cross-examined by Murray. I don't know who paid for the beer, you called for it.
GEORGE SMITH (Policeman V 402). On 28th December, inconsequence of what Davis said to me, I said to Hunt "What have you got?"—he made no reply—I then saw this gold watch in his left hand—I said "How did you come into possession of it?"—he made no reply—Murray was about three yards off in the custody of another constable and heard what was said; he said nothing—I took Hunt to the station—on the way he threw himself to the ground and tried to throw the watch in the snow—nothing was found on Hunt except this watch—the chain was not discovered—next morning at Wandsworth they were charged with unlawful possession of this watch and remanded till 4th January—on the 4th they were placed separately with six other men of similar build taken haphazard from the street—when Mrs. Woods was brought in she immediately pointed out Hunt and also Murray—she touched them with her stick.
Cross-examined by Murray. She did not say she did not know you; she touched you with her stick.
THOMAS MANLY (Police Sergeant B). On 4th January I saw the two prisoners charged at Wandsworth with unlawful possession of this watch—I applied for their discharge, and then took them into custody on this charge, and took them to Chelsea Police-station—on the way there Hunt said "I know nothing about the pinching (stealing) of the watch; I picked it up in the gutter"—Murray said "I know nothing about it"—at the Chelsea Station the prisoners were placed among six or eight men, and Mrs. Woods came in the room; she wont up to Hunt, and said "This is the tall one," and she looked round, and said "I believe, to the best of my belief, this is the other one"—a minute afterwards she said "I am sure he is now "—she had given me a description of the two men on the night of the robbery.
Murray in his defence stated that he knew nothing of the robbery; that Hunt met him in the street, asked him for some tobacco, and offered to treat him; and that he went into the public-house with him, where he saw the watch for the first time.
MURRAY— GUILTY *. HUNT— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
The COMMON SERJEANT commended Davis's conduct, and awarded him 2l.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, January 15th, 1887.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
MR. RAYMOND Prosecuted.
FREDERICK BOTTEL . I live at 40, Vauxhall Bridge Road—on 24th December, about 10 p.m., I was with my wife coming down Queen Ann's Gate Westminster, from St. James's Park, entering the Broadway, and turning round by the restaurant at the corner, where the cab rank comes in a line with the archway, when I heard a bit of a noise, turned my head and saw a man under the off wheel of a brougham—I ran to the man as quick as I could, and picked him up, and brought him to the pavement—I said to the coachman, who was the prisoner "Hold on a bit, the man is hurt"—I asked the man if he was hurt—I don't know whether the coachman heard me, but he stopped about a minute, and then drove away—he was looking towards us—there were a lot more people then—he never answered—it was a one-horse brougham—he drove away about eight miles an hour, I should say, a good trot—I had to run 40 to 50 yards before I caught him—I stopped him, and asked him what sort of a man ho called himself; he did not answer—I noticed he was drunk—I had not seen him till he was running over the man—Reed was lying with his head towards Queen Anne's Gate when I picked him up, the way the carriage was going, so that it must just have missed his head—I saw the wheel passing over the man—I was about eight yards off then—it had been raining in the day, but it had turned to freezing a little, I think—it was not misty, you could see distinctly eight yards off—my missus remarked how crisp the grass looked in the park.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I took no notice of the time within half an hour—you came from the Broadway—I said before that you came out of York Street, but I did not then know the name of the street; I knew which way you came, but mistook the name of the street, and I told the Magistrate of my mistake the last time I was there—I said nothing of your driving at eight miles an hour before the Magistrate because I was not asked—I said you drove off at a fast trot—I was not asked the miles you were going.
By the COURT. I say he was drunk, because I saw the constable take him off the box—he could not get off very well.
THOMAS BROWN (Policeman A 951). On this night I was called to the Broadway, about 9.30—I saw a man lying on his back in the road with his head towards Queen Anne's Gate—I saw the prisoner driving a one-horse brougham away at the time towards Queen Anne's Gate; the last witness was stopping the brougham—I requested the prisoner to come off the box and found he was drunk—I took him to the station, and the
deceased, who was a cabman, was taken by his friends to the hospital—the deceased's cab was the first on the cab rank, near where the accident happened—he was off his box—the prisoner was driving a hired brougham belonging to Robinson, of Kensington—I charged him with being drunk in charge of a horse and carriage—he was brought up before the Magistrate next day, and remanded till January 3rd—I ascertained the deceased had died at 6.35 a.m. on December 26th—I went to Kensington and apprehended the prisoner at 8.15 p.m. the same day—he was further charged with causing Reed's death, taken before the Magistrate, committed for trial, and has been out on bail till to-day—I saw Reed about 20 minutes before the accident; he was perfectly sober then—I was on duty outside the Royal Aquarium—the prisoner said nothing to the charge when I took him.
Cross-examined. I saw you set your brougham down at the Aquarium between 8 and 8.30; you were sitting on your box all right then—I noticed nothing particular about you—when I saw you driving away you had been stopped twice—I could not say what pace you were driving at—I should say not more than five miles an hour—Bottel was stopping the brougham.
WILLIAM LYONS (Police Inspector A). On the evening of 24th December Brown brought the prisoner to Rochester Row Police-station at about 9.30, on a charge of being drunk while in charge of his horse and brougham—I saw the prisoner was very drunk, and I took the charge—he was taken to the police-court and remanded—he was not then charged with injuring the man; on the death of the man being known he was further charged—he made no reply to the charge—an inquest was held.
By the COURT. He was very drunk, almost incapably drunk; quite incapable of taking charge of a horse and brougham.
JOHN HOPKINS PUGH . I am a surgeon, of 46, Marsham Place, Westminster—on Christmas Day, at 1.45 p.m., I was called to John Reed—I found him in bed in great pain, almost in a collapse—the region of the pain was in the right side—there were symptoms of inflammation of the lungs—I prescribed for him, and treated him till his death at 6.55 am. on the following Tuesday—I made a post-mortem examination at 3 p.m. on the 30th by the Coroner's direction—I found the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth ribs on the right side were broken, and the lung with its membrane was inflamed—all the other organs of the body were healthy; the heart was somewhat fatty—those symptoms would arise from his being run over, and were the cause of his death undoubtedly.
Cross-examined. I have been accustomed to driving—I said before the Magistrate that this is an awkward corner—I am a vestryman—I said I should give notice to the Commissioners of Police that in my opinion it was an awkward corner.
FRANK WILLIAM REED . I am the son of the deceased—he was a cabman—I saw him three-quarters of an hour before this accident; he was quite sober—I afterwards saw him at half-past 10 or 11 o'clock; he was then quite sensible and quite sober.
Witnesses for the Defence.
me perfectly right then—I left there, after half an hour or 20 minutes at 9.30—I held up my hand for the man to come across; he came directly—I told him to go to Kensington Square—he turned round the sharp corner by the cab-stand, and then the brougham pulled up all of a sudden—I felt no bump; we were not going quickly, but it is a big brougham, and you would hardly feel it—after pulling up he went on again, and then he pulled up suddenly a few yards off—then I opened the window and the door and jumped out, and asked what was the matter—the prisoner was told to turn his brougham round, and he was sober enough to do that—I took my coat out and went with him to the police-station—he gave his name to the constable.
By the COURT. I should say he was drunk—I had not noticed it before—he used to drive for my step-father—I have known him a long time, I never knew him drunk before—since he left our service we have always hired from that yard, and the prisoner has always driven us—I cannot tell where the accident happened.
JOHN HOPKINS PUGH (Re-examined). The deceased's was the first cab on the rank, and if he were standing by the horse's head and a man drove round and kept his near side, he would be driven down by the York Street traffic, and would have to take that corner sharply, and the deceased would be liable to be caught by the hind-wheel.
The prisoner received a good character from his master as a sober, steady, industrious man.
Prisoner's Defence. I had been out nearly all day; we were very busy that day. It came on very wet and cold in the day. I no sooner got home than I went out; I had no time to get anything to eat at all scarcely that day. My coat was soaking wet all through; I felt very wet, and I admit I did have a glass of whisky hot. I am as sorry as any one can be for the accident. I never saw the man; he must have stepped back. If I did run over him I am as sorry as any one can be for it.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Saturday, January 17th, and
OLD COURT.—Monday, January 19th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
197. SAMUEL VICTOR MORLEY, otherwise, SAMUEL MARKS , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Henry Thomas Lodge an indenture of lease, with intent to defraud. 37 other Counts varying the form of charge.
MESSRS. MOYSES and RICHMOND Prosecuted; SIR CHARLES RUSSELL, Q.C., and MR. POLAND Defended.
The defendant in this case was acting on behalf of persons claiming property under the will of one Joshua Mobbs. The RECORDER, who in the course of the case intimated more than once that there was no proof that the defendant acted fraudulently, after hearing Counsel on both sides held that there was no case to go to the Jury, the defendant having acted in the matter under the advice of eminent Counsel, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY ,
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. WALKER Defended.
JAMES RUDDY I am 11 years old—the prisoner is my grandmother—I live with her and her husband at 32, Lower Andrew Street, near West Ham—on 1st January I went to bed about 10 p.m.; my grandmother went to bed about the same time—she got up about five minutes afterwards—I saw her pour paraffin oil on a box in the room we sleep and live in—she struck a match and set a light to it—she said my grandfather could not see her—he is a little bit deaf and a little bit blind—he is 66 years old—he had his head covered over with the blankets—the prisoner ran downstairs—I called my grandfather; he was drunk—I woke him up, went downstairs, and called Mr. Smith on the same floor—he went in and the fire was put out—I had been with my grandfather and grandmother all day—they had been quarrelling.
Cross-examined. They quarrelled in bed as well as before they went to bed—my grandmother has on former occasions got up and left my grandfather, and not returned till he was asleep—she has gone to Mrs. Wood's—this night they had been quarrelling more than usual—grandmother was drunk—before she went to the box she put her petticoats on—10 minutes elapsed between her getting out of bed and setting the oil on fire—grandfather woke up when she got out of bed—he was just falling asleep again when she set fire to the paraffin—I am sure he was in bed; not on the side of it; on the top, under the blankets—a lamp was burning beside the window—the box was near the window—the lamp was on a table, not on the box—the small night-lamp was on the mantelshelf, close to the bed—the oil was poured out of a glass bottle—my grandmother keeps the oil in it; a white bottle with a long neck; not in a tin can—a looking-glass was on the box—it was a black painted box—it was used as a table occasionally—it was a large box; it contained white clothes—about a pint of paraffin was in the bottle—it was all poured on the box—about 12 boxes were on the lid of the large box—I was there when the fire was put out by throwing a quilt over it—the glass fell on the floor and broke—the top of the box was burnt—it was not burning when I got up and shut the door—I was afraid she would return, and got up and shut the door and locked it—the flame was burning—I did not say anything to her when she struck the match; she seemed in a great passion—I nave lived with my grandfather and grandmother about a year and six months—my father died seven years ago; my mother is living—I have not lived much with her after father died; I have lived with grandfather and grandmother—they have not been kind all the time; I nave had plenty to eat, and have been as well clothed as I am at present—lately they have been cross with me—I do not know the reason—grandmother missed a half-sovereign, and I found it on the dust-hole, and she blamed me for stealing it—grandfather said he missed it out of his room, and only himself, grandmother, and myself were in the room—he asked me if I took it and I denied it—he did not threaten to lock me up, or say what he would do if it was
not found—he said if I did not find it I must go home and live with my mother—they had missed three half-crowns—the last six months I have been rather troublesome; I have not stayed out at nights; that is not the reason they scolded me—when I ran down into the street I did not tell anybody what had happened—Mrs. Smith lived in the next room—when I could not wake my grandfather I went to Mrs. Smith—when grandmother went out I jumped up and shut the door—my grandfather opened the door—I called him; grandfather could not see the fire for the smoke—the box was close to the door on the right-hand side—grandfather had to go round the bed and pass between the box and the bed—he threw the quilt on the fire—I spoke to grandfather—he did not tell me to call Mrs. Smith—I also told Mrs. Holmes; she is not friendly with grandmother—my grandmother was very drunk that night.
Re-examined. I am sure grandmother set fire to the box—I did not do it.
ANNIE SMITH . I live with my husband in the next room to the prisoner—on 1st January I heard the prisoner and her husband quarrelling—I heard James Ruddy call out to his grandfather "Grandfather, get up, the house is a-fire," four or five times—10 minutes before that I heard the grandmother go out—my husband ran upstairs and I ran up behind him—I saw the room; the flames I could not see—after some water was thrown on I saw the grandfather sitting on the edge of the bed; he had his jacket on, I could not see his trousers—I had seen the prisoner in the street just before 11 o'clock coming from Mrs. Wood's house towards her home—I said "Mrs. Ruddy, you have done a fine thing, the boy says you have set the house on fire"—she said "All right, Annie Hilks"—that was my maiden name—she had had a drop of drink—when I saw the room the fire was out; the top box had been on fire—there was a hole in the wall, which is lath and plaster.
Cross-examined. I know Mrs. Holmes; the prisoner had seen her that night; I do not know that she had seen her after the fire and before seeing me—it was the top big box that was burnt—I saw one lamp in the room on a little table, not a small one on the mantelpiece—10 minutes must have elapsed between the prisoner going out and the boy calling out—I have nothing to judge the time by; there was no clock in—the room—I often go into Mrs. Wood's house—I did not see what the paraffin was kept in—I have seen a tin can on the stairs.
WILLIAM BRISTOWE (Policeman K 286). My attention was called to this fire on 1st January about 10.30 p.m.—I went to the room, and with Mr. Smith's help I extinguished it—the top of a large box that stood just inside the door was on fire, and the party-wall between that and the front room—I met the prisoner in the street—I told 'her her room was on fire—she said "I know all about it"—she was very much excited—she might have had a drop—I told her I should take her in custody for setting fire to it—she made no reply—I took her to the station—I saw a portion of a white glass bottle with a long neck by the side of the box—I could not smell, I had a cold.
Cross-examined. This (produced) is a piece of the bottle—I ran back to the house with Mr. Smith—I saw Mrs. Holmes in the front room—the boy was in his shirt, nothing else.
ROBERT BARRY (Police Inspector). I am stationed at North Woolwich—I accompanied Bristowe to this house about midnight—I found the top of the box not consumed but injured by the fire; the party-wall was
also injured—I found this fragment of a bottle by the box—it is part of an ordinary-sized whisky bottle—it smelled of paraffin—a quantity of liquid was on the floor—I dipped my finger in it, and seemed to detect the smell of paraffin; the place was flooded—the liquid smelled the same as the bottle—this piece of the bottle was lying in the slush—at the station I said "You will be charged with wilfully, feloniously, and maliciously setting fire to a dwelling-house, divers persons being therein at the time "—she answered "That boy is a liar"—the boy was present.
Cross-examined. I did not observe a looking-glass—there were other fragments of the bottle on what I suppose were boxes—the fire was out about an hour when I got there—some of the fragments may have been of a looking-glass—if two pails of dirty water had been thrown on the box that would account for the dampness and the wet on the floor—I did not see that the floor was burnt—when charged the prisoner was very much excited.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "My husband and I had a few words, and I do not know what happened. I was not in the house."
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CROFTON Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON Defended
EMMA HUBBON I live at Oak Terrace, Walthamstow—the deceased was my son, and was 13 years old—on Thursday afternoon, 16th December, just before 2 o'clock, he went to school—he was then in good health—another little boy of mine, aged 11, was with him—that boy came back, and in consequence of what he said I went out with him and met Frank about 50 yards from my house—the prisoner was following behind with Thomas Robertson, another schoolboy—I asked the prisoner why he hit Frank—he said because Frank had told me at dinner-time that he had knocked my little boy down—my son passed me and ran indoors—I did not know then that he was injured—on Sunday he was bad, and I applied hot flannels to him—I sent for Dr. Webb, but he did not come till Monday about 11—he then attended him till he died on the Sunday—on the Thursday before he died the prisoner came and asked Frank how he was—he said "I am very bad"—I said "You see what you have done to poor Frank; don't never hit another boy"—he said "I am very sorry; I hope Frank will get better"—then he said "I might have punched him in the stomach, but I did not look where I punched him"—I said "Frank will forgive you," and Frank said "I will forgive you, but don't hit me no more."
Cross-examined. On the Friday morning he complained of a sore throat—he kept his bed all day—he got up on Saturday morning—I put some stuff on his throat—he was sick all day till he died, vomiting—there was no shivering; he had no cold—I felt his hands; they were not hot; there were no signs of diarrhoea; nothing passed through him at all from the time he was struck till he died—he had not been out at all—on the Thursday he was struck he went out in the evening about 6 o'clock and returned about 9, only to go errands at a pork butcher's where he was—the doctor was called in on Monday—the boy went to work on the Saturday, but he was so bad there they sent him home
between 1 and 2, and on Sunday he laid before the fire all day, and between 3 and 4 he went to bed, and never got up any more, and the doctor came on Monday morning—he was not bad enough for a doctor before that—the pains came on bad on Sunday.
THOMAS ROBINSON . I live at 1, Cotswold Villas, Walthamstow—I am 15 years old—I was a schoolfellow of the prisoner and deceased—on the afternoon of 16th December I saw them together—the prisoner was hitting the deceased in the back and chest with his fists against the fence—I did not see Frank hit him—the deceased was crying—I saw two or three blows, about three times altogether, in the back and front—Mrs. Hubbon came up and took Frank away—the prisoner said to me that he would wait on Frank till he saw him again—next day I met him again, and he said he would hit Frank when he saw him again.
Cross-examined. The deceased was about the same size as the prisoner.
SIDNEY HABBON . I am 11 years old, and am the brother of the deceased—on 16th December I came out of school with him and the prisoner punched him on the back—he did not say why—I ran home to mother directly.
ALBERT WILLIAM WEBB . I am a surgeon, of High Street, Walthamstow—on Monday morning, 20th December, I was called to see the deceased—he was in great pain in the stomach, especially the lower part—that was all the pain that he complained of to me—he was very tender over that part, so that I could scarcely examine him—he was vomiting a greenish fluid—his pupils were dilated, and there was some degree of fever—he also had a difficulty in passing his water—those were symptoms that would be caused by a blow in the stomach—he made no complaint of his back—I attended him till his death, which was early in the morning of the 26th—he was suffering more or less from those pains until he died—by order of the Coroner, on the 28th I made a post-mortem examination—there were no external marks to account for death—the brain, lungs, and heart were quite healthy—the stomach was healthy save for some patches of blood poured out beneath the lining membrane—the intestines were much inflated, and matted together with the results of recent inflammation—there were several deposits of matter among the coils, especially in each groin, and at the back of the bladder—the intestines themselves were unruptured and quite healthy; as also were their contents—the other abdominal organs were quite healthy and unruptured—no natural causes would have caused what I found—the symptoms were not consistent with death from natural pauses; they were wholly inconsistent—they were such as I should expect to find as the result of blows during life—what I found in the stomach was sufficient to account for his death—I did not tell him he was going to die.
Cross-examined. I have been in the profession about two years—I am an assistant—I have never made a post-mortem, but I have seen them made—I was not called in on the Sunday; some other doctor was called in then—I first attended the boy on the Monday—I did not see that his throat was sore then; I didn't examine it; no complaint of that was made to me—he was not suffering from shivering; he was feverish—what he suffered from was peritonitis; that can be brought on by more than one cause; blood-poisoning would bring it on—I should not expect to find a sore throat as a result from death from peritonitis by blows—sore
throat is not the first symptom of blood-poisoning; it is not necessarily a symptom at all; it may be marked—sore throat is not one of the chief and earlier symptoms of death from peritonitis; I stake my professional reputation upon that—it is not the general accompaniment; it may occur—a person may die of peritonitis brought on by blood-poisoning—I will not admit that sore throat is an early and marked symptom of blood-poisoning; it may be a symptom—I should not expect to find external marks of violence after three days and a half—it is one of the most common things in such serious instances as a blow on the stomach, from the buffer of an engine to have no marks whatever, and yet to have most serious internal injuries; I take that, as an extreme case—if one person strikes another in the stomach I should say there would probably be some external mark, but I should not be surprised if there were none after an interval of three days and a half—if the blow had had been violent I should expect to find some mark; I did not find any—I prescribed opium and limited milk diet, and some fomentations to the abdomen—peritonitis does not frequently come on suddenly from a quick chill; I should think it impossible—a ruptured intestine would cause it; in my opinion cold cannot cause it at all—peritonitis is inflammation of the membrane covering the bowels—inflammation of the bowels themselves may come on from chill, but it does not spread to the membrane—it is a fact that it does not, I cannot tell you why—Professor Bristow is an authority on these points—I agree in this, that "Peritoneal inflammation is a common occurrence in all ages and both sexes; it is due to various causes"—I do not agree that "in some cases it is the result of exposure to told or wet."
Re-examined. If the boy had been suffering from blood-poisoning I should have detected it on the post-mortem; there were no signs of it—I should have expected to find bruises on the back if much violence had been used—I did not examine the back before the post-mortem—the post-mortem took place 10 or 12 days after the alleged violence.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
200. RICHARD DECKHAM (40) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Harry Webb, and stealing a dressing-case and other articles, after a conviction of felony in March, 1875, in the name of Charles Brown.— One Month's Hard Labour to follow the completion of his unexpired term of Penal Servitude.
201. ANNIE MARY TOMPKINS (37) to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l., also to stealing a bag, a purse, and 13s. of Emma Rebecca Rowlandson, also to obtaining 15s. by false pretences, and to having been before convicted.— [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image.] Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
GUILTY of endeavouring to conceal the birth.— Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LYNE Prosecuted.
The prisoner having stated that he would PLEAD GUILTY to stealing the plane, the Jury found him GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in March 1884, in the name of Frederick Goodman.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. COLE Prosecuted.
JOHN MACGREGOR . I am a barrister, living at Vanburgh Park Road East—on 23rd December I went to bed at 11 p.m.—I was the last person up—I left all the windows and doors fastened, but in a window of the room in which the burglary was committed in the front of the ground floor, which fastens with a hasp and a screw, the hasp only was turned, the screw was not in—there were only Venetian blinds to the room, no shutters—almost immediately after 4 I heard gravel being thrown at the window—I opened it and called out "What is it?"—the sergeant called out "The police"—I went down and let the police in—I examined the house—only one room was attacked; the hasp of the window there was twisted up in half, which would enable anyone to raise the window, which is easily reached from outside—I missed this moneybox and other things and 14l. 2s. 6d.—I have known the prisoner fourteen months or more—I have assisted him—he had often been in that room and seen the cashbox opened for himself—it was left in that room overnight, accessible to anyone who went in—the window was not broken.
THOMAS BETCHLEY (Policeman R 26). On the morning of the 24th I was in Humber Road, Westcombe Park—I stopped the prisoner there and asked him where he had been to—he said "Shooter's Hill"—I said "Where to there?"—he said "You want to know too much"—I felt down the outside of his pocket and heard something jingle—I attempted to put my hand in and search; he became very violent and struggled hard to get away from me—Inspector Pitman came up with Sergeant Savage and I searched him—I pulled out of his inside breast pocket four medals and nine keys—I then took him to the station—on the way he attempted to throw away a cheque book, letter, and some postage stamps, but Pitman took them from him—at the station I searched him again, and found 14l. in gold, 2s. 6d. in silver, a meerschaum pipe, cigar holder, metal token, a pocket knife, scarf pin and ring—on the letter the prisoner tried to throw away was the prosecutor's address—we went there and found the window partly open—I saw nothing of the cashbox—I first saw the prisoner a good half mile from Mr. Macgregor's house.
voices, went in their direction, and found the sergeant detaining the prisoner—he said "I stopped this man to see what he has got about him"—I caught hold of him and the sergeant put his hand inside his breast pocket and pulled out the medals and keys—I said "That is enough, we will take him to the station"—on the way he tried to throw away the stamps, cheque book, and letter—I went to the prosecutor's and found the library window, ground floor, open about one and a half inches—we obtained admission and found the library in a confused state; the drawers bad been opened—the woodwork of the window had been cut and chipped and the window fastening had been bent up about half an inch—after that I met Robinson, who handed me this cash-box cut open down the back, this table knife, and this blade of a pocket knife stolen from the library, which were found on the prisoner.
JOHN ROBINSON (Policeman R 408). I was in Westcombe Park on the 24th, and about 7.30 a.m. I saw this cash-box under the trees with this case knife beside it, and these two boxes, which I handed to Pitman—they were 300 or 400 yards from Mr. Macgregor's and about half a mile from where the prisoner was taken, and in the same direction.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that he saw a man put down the things in the park, and that he went and put some of them in his pockets.
GUILTY *†.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
GEORGE EAST I am a coal merchant, of 43, Bailton Street, Deptford—on 28th November, at 11.15 p.m., I was in Bailton Street, going home—I had on a watch and chain and six rings on my fingers—two men whom I did not know, and of whom Cronk was one, came up to me—Cronk took me by my arm and got hold of my watch and chain; he could not get it out—he tried to get my rings and nearly bit my finger off—he knocked me on my left ear—the other man stood behind, but did nothing—he got away; I did not see him afterwards—I was knocked down and cut my hand in two places—I ran to a lodging house next to my house; I have ten houses down that street—the prisoner followed me and tried to burst the door open—I asked the landlord in the prisoner's presence whether he allowed his men to rob me—I was then turned out of the house and the prisoner let in—I went to my own house two doors off—the prisoner followed and tried to burst the door open—I gave information to Inspector Turk—I afterwards picked out the prisoner at the station from nine or ten others—I am certain he is the man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said "Good night" to me—I did not call you a lodging house thief—I did not hit you on the head with a quart pot after you had shoved me—I did not lock you up at once because I feared my life was in danger—I saw Turk next morning, but I did not know who you were.
Re-examined. I did not know the prisoner before.
ROBERT HAZELTON I keep a lodging house at 37, Bailton Street, Deptford—the prisoner has been lodging with me—on 28th November, at 11.15, I was going to my street door and was confronted by the prosecutor
running inside—he asked me if I allowed one of my men to knock his beer over—I said "I want to know nothing about your beer or you either; you get out of my house"—as I said it the prisoner came behind him, took him by his shoulders, turned him round and shoved him down—he got up and ran into my door—they were both greatly under the influence of drink—the prosecutor went to his own house, and I let the prisoner in and said "You had better go in and go upstairs to bed."
The COURT considered it would not be safe to convict upon this evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BROXHOLME Prosecuted.
CONRAD STRAUB . I am a jeweller, of 70, High Street, Lee—on 17th December I shut up my shop and went to bed about 11.30, leaving everything secure—I was the last person up—about 1.30 my bell rang; I went downstairs and found my window shutters broken and some of my jewellery on the pavement outside and some gone altogether—I have lost about 7l. 10s.—this is some that we picked up in the road when I came back from the station, and some that Sergeant Hoad found.
SAMUEL SMITH . I am a cabdriver—about 1.30 on this Sunday morning I heard a smash—I went up to the prosecutor's place and saw the window broken—about two minutes afterwards I saw three men under a lamppost about 60 yards from the shop—I called out to them and they ran off as fast as they could—I do not recognise the prisoner, but he is about the same height as one of the men—I rang the prosecutor's bell.
WILLIAM DISH . I am timekeeper on board the Thames Police ship—I found this jewellery in Blackwall Lane, near the timekeeper's gate, about two miles from where the robbery was committed—I do not know where the prisoner lives.
JOHN HOAD (Police Sergeant R 157). about 3 a.m. on the 19th I was on duty in Marsh Lane, East Greenwich—I saw the prisoner coming from the direction of the prosecutor's house towards the Marshes—I asked him where he was going, he said "lam going home"—I said "Where do you live?"—he said "6, West Terrace"—I put my hand in his breast-pocket and found a number of these rings on a piece of wire—I went with him to West Terrace and then to Ordnance Road—he showed me a house where he said he lived; I knocked at the door, a woman put her head out of the window, I asked her if she had any lodgers; the prisoner said "It is Toomey, Mrs. North, don't you, know me?"—she said "No I don't"—I took him in custody—I searched him at the station and found these rings on him.
HENRY PHILLIPS (Police Inspector R). After the prisoner was committed for trial he wrote a letter for me to go and see him—authority was given me from the Home Office—I cautioned him that whatever statement he made would probably be used against him; he said he did not mind, he wanted me to take the truth of it and lay it before the Court. (This stated that he met two men, She a and Galloway, in a public-house, who asked him to go with them to commit a burglary at this shop; that he left them and went home, but afterwards met them, and that they said they had broken into
the shop and asked him to hold the jewellery, and that they put it into a handkerchief which he brought away with him.
The prisoner stated that he would plead guilty to receiving the things.
GUILTY He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony at this
Court in December, 1885.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SANDERS Prosecuted,
SAMUEL MILL . I am manager of the King's Arms public-house, Church Street, Deptford—on Sunday, 12th December, I was passing through Florence Road—I heard a noise in the area of No. 51, and saw a man stooping down there—I walked to the middle of the railway bridge, and turned and looked into the area again—he was standing up facing the window—I looked for a policeman; we both went into the area—I saw blood on the prisoner's hands, and on the shutter inside the window—the landlord was called, and came down.
DAVID HEATH (Policeman RR 180). On 12th December at 1 o'clock I was on duty in the Florence Road, and heard a crash of glass—I looked into the area of No. 51, and saw the prisoner in the act of raising the window—I was about three yards off—on my looking down he stooped down—I turned my light on and went down, and found a pane of the window broken and the catch pushed back—the prisoner's hands were covered in blood—the latch of the area door was lying at the prisoner's feet—I asked him where he had come from and what he was doing there—he said "I come from Liverpool; I am getting an honest living"—he seemed a little stupefied—I called the landlord, who came down, and said he had securely fastened the place before going to bed—the prisoner was sober; I believe he had been drinking—he made no reply when charged at the station.
ALFRED MYERS . I live at 51, Florence Road—I left everything quite safe when I went to bed on this night, and fastened the area door—in the morning the latch was broken off—the window was broken; a hand had been inserted—blood was on the inside of the shutter, and the catch was three parts back—when I left it it was fastened.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he had been drinking and that on his way home to his brother's he stumbled against the gate and fell into the area and that he put up his hands and so broke the window.
ALFRED MYERS (Re-examined by the JURY). There is a gate in the railing right in front of the house—from the steps to the window is about six feet—a man might fall and break the window, but he could not break the latch off the area door as well.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
209. THOMAS ATKINSON DUCKETT (37) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining from Thomas Parkinson Muff a cheque for 5l., with intent to defraud, after a conviction* of felony in November, 1885, at this Court.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour . And
MR. CRANSTOUN Prosecuted; MR. H. AVORY defended Laing.
WILLIAM KENT . I keep the Sun public-house, Mason Street, Westminster Bridge Road—on Friday, the day before Christmas Day, my wife brought me this cheque—I went into the bar and saw the two prisoners—I knew Kelvie by the name of Armstrong—he said "Will you cash this cheque for me as I want to send some horses down into the country?"—I said "I cannot find the whole amount; you will have to wait"—Laing said "If you can get 2l. I can send the horses off "—I said to Kelvie "You sign the cheque and I will give you 2l. "—I meant him to put his name on the back—he did so in my presence, and I gave him 2l.—he handed it to Laing, who said "I am this man's servant at 3l. a week; this is my governor, and I am going to see the horses off into the country"—Laing left and Kelvie remained—he said that he had bought the horses from Mr. Miller, and had just received the cheque from him—I sent one of my customers to Mr. Miller, who came back, and I then sent for a policeman—Laing came back, and said "It is all right; I have sent the horses off"—I gave them in custody with the cheque—Kelvie said it was all false and ridiculous—he did the same about seven weeks ago, and that raised my suspicion.
Cross-examined by Kelvie. I did not tell you to sign the man's name on the back who gave you the cheque—I told you to sign the name I knew you by, which was Armstrong—you drank nothing; you had no money till I gave you the 2l.—you gave my wife an invitation in the name of Samuel Armstrong, to see your mother.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Kelvie waited about a quarter of an hour before I, gave him the 2l.; in front of the bar—he had something to drink which I paid for—I had my reasons for that—they came in about 10 minutes to 11—he had been an hour in the house when the constable came—I had given the 2l. before I sent to Mr. Miller, and Kelvie waited about half an hour after that—I have not said that Miller sold the horses and gave the cheque too—he told me he had received the cheque from Mr. Miller, of whom he bought the horses, and" I went round to ask if it was the truth—Laing said "2l. will do for the present," or "if we can get 2l. it will do; "I cannot tax my memory with the exact words—it must have been before Laing went that he said "This is my governor "—I think my deposition is right. (The deposition stated that Laing said,"This is my governor," after he came back.)
THOMAS MILLER . I keep the King's Arms, Freeschool Street, Horselydown—I formerly kept the Feathers—this cheque is not drawn by me; I know nothing of it, and never saw either of the prisoners till I was at the police-court—I never had any horse transactions with them.
ELLEN KENT . I was in the bar on 24th December when the prisoners came in—Kelvie handed me this cheque, which he said he had received from Mr. Miller, and asked me to cash it—he said he had been in the
country and had bought a farm, and he had that day bought some horses and wanted to send them off into the country—I gave the cheque to my husband—we call Kelvie, Armstrong—Laing was present.
Cross-examined by Kelvie. It was about 10.15 when you came—I told you Mr. Kent was not very well, but I called him and he came into the bar—I had nothing to drink with you.
FRANK ROLFE (Policeman L 275). On 24th December, shortly before 12 o'clock, I was called to Mr. Kent's house and found the two prisoners there; I showed this cheque to Kelvie, and asked him if that was his endorsement—he said "Yes"—I took Laing in custody; he said as he went to the station that he knew nothing whatever of it.
Cross-examined by Kelvie. You did not say that the cheque was paid you that morning for a debt which was owing to you three months ago.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Going to the station I said to the prisoners "I hardly know what to do about taking you to the station"—I asked Kelvie if that was his name and signature on the cheque—he said "Yes," and Mr. Kent said he would charge him—I did not hear him say anything to the detective about having received the cheque, I was not there—I cannot recollect whether Laing said "I had nothing to do with it," or "I don't know anything about it."
ALBERT HARRISON (Detective Officer). On Christmas morning, about 12.30, I saw the prisoners at the station; I showed him the cheque and took down in writing what they said—I said to Kelvie "Do you know anything about this cheque"—he said "I know nothing about it, I have never seen it before "—I asked Laing the same question—he said "All I know is that a young fellow who was with us called 'George' passed it"—I said "What is his other name?"—he said "I don't know"—I said "Where does he live?"—he said "I don't know; I only saw him once before at a public-house opposite the Clock Tower, Kennington Lane"—I then went to Mr. Miller's, the King's Arms, and there saw the prisoners again—I said "Whose cheque is this?"—Kelvie said "I got it three months ago from a man named Armstrong, to whom I sold some goods; I do not know where he lives, but somewhere in Greenwich"—Laing said "I know nothing about it"—after the charge was read Kelvie said "I never received any money when I gave Mr. Kent the cheque; he said 'Wait half an hour;' we did wait "—Laing said "I know nothing at all about it; I am as innocent as a child."
Cross-examined by Kelvie. You did not say that the money was owed you three months ago, and that you received the cheque on Friday morning.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I have had about nine years' experience—I wrote these notes in pencil and copied them afterwards—I have destroyed the pencil writing—the prisoners saw this document—I did not ask them to sign it or whether it was correct—I swear that they said everything which is down on this paper—Laing said before the Magistrate "I sold some goods to a man named Armstrong three months ago, and received the cheque off him on Friday morning"—he did not say that substantially at the police-station—what he said there was "I got it three months ago"—I do not think I have made any mistake.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Kelvie says: "I can only say I sold some goods to a man named Armstrong three months ago and received the cheque of him on Friday morning last. I met him quite by accident; I was going down Westminster, and, owing Mr. Kent a sovereign, I thought I would pay him, and we went in and asked him if he would kindly oblige us with change for the cheque. He said 'Yes.' I waited half an hour, and I had given in the money." Laing says: "I know nothing about the cheque."
ALBERT HARRISON (Re-examined by MR. AVORY). I wrote this second paper about 12 hours after the first—the first one relates to what he said about the cheque; I wrote that the same night—the other one contains the statement about getting it three months ago.
Re-examined. One was written in pencil; that is not the one which was re-copied; and the other written 12 hours afterwards—the prisoners were detained at the station while inquiries were made, and during that time the statement was written down—this is an exact copy of the pencil.
Cross-examined by Kelvie. I am sure that was written down in my book when you were given in custody.
Kelvie, in his defence, repeated his former statement.
GUILTY* of uttering. KELVIE then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Surrey Sessions in December, 1886.— Nine Months' Hard Labour each.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. BAYLISS Prosecuted.
JANE DAWSON . I am a widow, of 364, Oxford Street, Stepney Green—on 25th November, about 11 a.m., the prisoner came to me—I had a card in my window, "A bedroom to let"—I let him the room—he said he came from Hammersmith, and was in a hurry to get a lodging as he was engaged to go to business that afternoon to Mr. Evans—he had no overcoat then—he came back a little after 5 o'clock with an overcoat on; he said it was not quite wide enough across the chest, and he asked for scissors to alter the buttons—I offered to mend it, and did so—it is the one he has on now—he said he was going to a place of amusement in the evening with a young man he had fallen in with, a teetotaler like himself—I gave him the key—he asked for a clock I had in my back parlour that he might know the exact time—he slept there that night, and left about 6.10 next morning—I went up to his room in less than an hour after he left—everything was gone from the bed, two blankets, two quilts, two sheets, toilet-cover, the clock, and everything—I went to the Thames Police-court—I next saw the prisoner in custody on December 9th, about three weeks after.
Cross-examined. I saw you go out that evening—the property was quite safe that evening, and so it was when you came back at 11 o'clock—my daughter saw you go upstairs; she identified you on the morning I did—I have not found the property.
Re-examined. The property was safe when he went upstairs.
from information received, I asked the prisoner if this property was his; he said it was—I asked him if he came by it honestly; he said it was his property—I asked his address; he said "15, Union Street"—I found that was false, and subsequently I took him in custody, and he was identified.
Cross-examined. No one has identified this property.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he bought the property found on him at a sale.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
There were two other indictments for similar offences against the prisoner.
213. JOSEPH JOHN EDWARDS (21) , Unlawfully and carnally knowing Mary Ann Mitchell, aged 15 years. Second and Third Counts, unlawfully taking her out of the possession of her mother and of her stepfather.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARKES Prosecuted.
JAMES ELLISTON . I am a gas-fitter; of 36, Savona Street, Battersea—on 27th December, about midnight, I was turning out of Battersea Park Road, and when 15 or 20 yards down the street I received a blow at the back of my head which knocked me down—I tried to get up; I was seized by the back of my neck, and some one was pushing on my legs; I got upon my knees; I felt a hand passed into my pocket—I turned round and saw the prisoner's face within seven or eight inches of mine—I said, "You have not much of a catch, for I have only 4 1/2 d. "—he took the 4 1/2 d. out of my right-hand trousers pocket, and my keys and knife out of my left-hand pocket—he felt all my waistcoat and overcoat pockets—there were two others with him, I did not see their faces—I have seen the prisoner standing by the public-house continuously for the last seven or eight months as I have gone to my meals, I knew him well by sight—they then pushed me, and all three ran away, the prisoner last—my neck was a little stiff; my trousers were wet at the knees where I was pushed into the water and snow, they were spoiled—I have not the slightest doubt the prisoner is the man.
WILLIAM SAVAGE (Policeman W R 30). On 30th December the prosecutor came to Battersea Park Station about 8.16, and in consequence of what he said I went with him—we searched for the prisoner for an hour, and then found him at the corner of the street, his usual place—I took him in custody—he said, "You have made a mistake "—I said, "No, your name is Friday"—that is his nickname—the prosecutor said, "That is the man that robbed me"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was at home and in bed."
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not say he thought you were the man that robbed him, nor did I say "Be sure."
By the COURT. I was as sober as I am now—I had been seeing a friend off at the station—I did not give information to the police before, because we were very busy after the holidays, and I had to work late—I told my foreman and all the workmen in the shop next morning.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say. I believe I was at home and in bed at the time. I am sure of it."
The prisoner in his defence asserted that he went to bed at 9 o'clock and stopped there all that night.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GOODRICH Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
MESSRS. POLAND and CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH
CAROLINE TAPP . I live at 9, Ashmore Place, Clapham Road—up to the 3rd November last the prisoner and his wife, Ellen Doyle, lived in that house—they occupied the whole of it, except one room, which was occupied by an old lady—I occupied the front room on the first floor—the old lady at this time was away staying with her son—I had been stopping there nine weeks—one night, early in October, I think it was, I was called by the deceased—I had gone to bed, and I think it must have been half-past 12 or 1—I found her lying down on the bed, and in the prisoner's presence she begged of me to stop in the room with her—the prisoner told me to go in my room, and she begged me to stop; she said she was afraid one of her ribs was hurt—the prisoner kicked her with his boots, and punched her, and I tried to catch hold of him to prevent him, and stood in front of her and begged of him not to strike her—he then went downstairs and she got up off the bed, and I went downstairs with her, and stayed up with them till morning—she complained that she was very much hurt in one of her ribs; the prisoner was in the room at the time—in the morning he went out to do his work as usual—before this time I had heard words now and then—on Saturday, 13th December, about half-past 9 in the evening, I raw Mrs. Doyle—I had seen her before on that day—up to that evening I haft noticed nothing on her face which attracted my attention—about half-past 9 I was downstairs in the front room talking to her, and the prisoner came in, and shortly afterwards I went upstairs—I then heard a little quarrelling, and a scuffling about, which lasted about 5 or 10 minutes, and I then heard the prisoner go out, and Mrs. Doyle called me downstairs—she was quite over; I have only seen her drunk one or twice—I had been working with her on this day—I stayed with her about five minutes, and then I went to my own room, but I did not go to bed; I sat up—about 12 o'clock, after the places were closed, I heard some one come in, and I assumed it was the prisoner—I then heard a deal of scuffling downstairs in the front room, and heard Mrs. Doyle say once "Oh, don't! oh,
don't!"—the scuffling lasted half or three-quarters of an hour, but I was afraid to go down, because I had been ordered upstairs to my own room three times—I was dreadfully frightened—I did not go to the front door at all, because I heard him bolt it when he came in, but I was hanging out of my window as far as I could, trying to get someone to get a policeman—I saw a neighbour opposite, and begged of her to send for somebody—after this had gone on for about three-quarters of an hour all was quiet, and about 5 or 10 minutes afterwards the prisoner called my name—I went half way down the stairs and saw Mrs. Doyle lying stark naked behind the street-door, in the passage—I said to the prisoner "For God's sake carry her upstairs and put her on the bed"—the prisoner then took her up and carried her in his arms into his bedroom, and I showed him the lamp—she seemed unconscious—I then went into my own room—he remained in there with her about five minutes, and then came into my room where I was and said he would set fire to every b—thing in my room, and pitch me oat of window—before he came out of his room I heard him say he wanted to find his thick boots; he would kick her b—brains out—he was drunk when he came into my room—he stayed in there, and I sat with my window wide open—he was awake and dressed, and I think he had a pair of thin boots on—about 5 o'clock in the morning he went into his own bedroom and went to bed as near as I can tell—he carried his wife upstairs about half past 12—I sat up the whole of that night—on the next day, Sunday, about half past 9 or 10, somebody who I thought was the prisoner called oat to me to make a cup of tea for Mrs. Doyle; at that time he was in bed lying at the side of Mrs. Doyle—I made the tea and took her a cup and sat it on the floor—I could not say whether the prisoner was undressed; he was covered over with the clothes and I only saw her face partly; she had got two dreadful black eyes—she said very low "Put it down," and I put it down and left the room—just before one o'clock I saw them both again, and I just came outside my door as the prisoner was leading his wife downstairs—afterwards I saw her lying on the floor in the front parlour on some things at the side of the fire; the prisoner was there—she spoke to me very low, I could hardly hear her; he could not have heard what was said—she was dressed in her Sunday dress then—I went down again about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and she was just in the same place; she just spoke to me, but the prisoner could not hear what was said—I did not stop there long—I went down again in the evening after church time, about 8 o'clock, and saw both of them there; she was in the same condition and lying in the same place—I did not stay there very long—that is all I saw of them that day—I went to bed that night, and on the Monday I saw the prisoner and asked him how she was—he said "Much about the same"—he had never made any statement to me as to what was the matter with her—she never had fits; I never knew her to have one during the time I was there—during that Monday he went in and out two or three times very quickly; he is a sweep—I remained in the house until 11th December, except that I was in and out as I am a working woman—between the Monday and Wednesday I saw nothing of Mrs. Doyle—I went in and said could I do anything for her, but she said "No"—the prisoner told me on the Monday and Tuesday to take the orders and not leave the house or let anybody into the house—when
I saw Mrs. Doyle she said she felt very ill—I forgot to say I heard a great jolting downstairs in their living room on the Saturday at the time of the struggling, and I thought it was Mr. Doyle jumping in the room—there was a small kettle of water on the hob on Saturday evening when the prisoner came in about half past 9; she generally kept a kettle of water boiling in case he came home and wanted to wash—I know this one was full; it would hold about two quarts—there was also a thin poker in the room about a foot or 15 inches long, which was generally inside the fender—it is a small kitchen range with a boiler on one side of the fireplace and an oven on the other side—a kettle would stand on the boiler—when the kettle was heated it would stand on the fire—there was a small round fender in front of the fire, but it does not come out into the room very far—there is no guard to the fire—the fire was alight on this night—I was at home when the police came on Wednesday, and it was after they came that a doctor was sent for.
Cross-examined. There was only one kettle that I saw at this time; there were generally three full of hot water, and in the day time they would all be on the hob—I have seen them there—I don't know whether they hold two quarts each; the others may be larger—I have never seen two of them down underneath the fireplace while the other one was on the fire—I have seen the deceased drunk once or twice, but she has not been staggering; I could tell by the way she spoke to me and by her manner—she was not very firm upon her legs; she was lame and limped—she was a stout, short, and rather heavy woman, and I should say she was active; she was always about from morning till night—the fender did not project, it only went round—I did not notice any shovel or anything of that sort—there was not much furniture in the room.
SUSAN BILLIARD . I lived with my husband at 8, Ashmore Place, next door to the prisoner and his wife—at midnight on Saturday night, 13th November, I was in my house downstairs, in the adjoining room to the prisoner's—between half-past 12 and 1 I heard Mrs. Doyle scream very loudly and gradually get fainter and fainter—I also heard a great scuffling as if she was being knocked about, and I heard her say once "Oh, don't, Ted, pray don't"—it lasted for about 20 minutes or half an hour and then I fell asleep—I have known Mrs. Doyle for over ten years, and have lived next door during that time and have never known her to have a fit.
CHARLES TURNER (Detective Sergeant W). On Wednesday, 17th Nov., about 10 a.m., in company with Police Constable Morier, I went to 9, Ashmore Place, and saw the prisoner—I was sent there by the inspector in consequence of information which had reached the station—I was in plain clothes—I said to him "I am a police officer, and have been informed that your wife is very ill through being assaulted"—he said "Oh no, she is all right"—I said "I don't believe she is all right, I must see her"—he said "She is not here, we had a row on Saturday, and she took her hook, and she is staying with her sister, near Primrose Hill"—this took place at the street-door—I made no reply, but commenced to search—when I got to a front room on the first floor the prisoner took hold of the door-knob and said "Don't go in here, this room has nothing to do with me"—he let go and I went in, and found the prisoner's wife lying on a sack of chaff on the floor; she appeared to be undressed as far as I could see—she was covered with the rags of a
torn up sheet, upon which were marks of blood—the prisoner was in the room—there was no bed in the room, only the sack of chaff on which she was lying, and there was no furniture—she had two black-eyes, and I asked her what was the cause of them; she could see the prisoner, and she said "I fell down on Saturday and hurt myself"—I said "Was there anything else the matter with you?" she said "No"—I said "Have you had a doctor?" she said "No"—I saw she was very ill and weak, and sent for a doctor—I then left the constable there and took the prisoner in custody, and said "You will be detained at the station, and your wife will be examined by a doctor"—on the way to the station he said "My wife is subject to fits, she did it herself by falling down; I am sorry that I told you she was away from home, but she did not wish any one to see her"—at the station he was charged in the ordinary way with an assault upon the wife, and he made a statement to the inspector, who took it down in writing—I afterwards examined the front room of the prisoner's house, and noticed smears and spatters of blood on the wall of the room for about 5 feet high—there were also smears of blood on the floor, and it appeared as if some one had attempted to wash it up, but had not cleared it—in a recess by the side of the fireplace I found this small piece of sweep's cane, a soldering iron, and this small poker, which has been used to poke the fire with.
Cross-examined. They are in just about the same state as when I found them.
JAMES BURNETT (Police Inspector W). On 17th November I saw the prisoner at the station, and told him he would be charged with assaulting his wife, whereby her life was endangered, and if he wished to make any statement I would take it down and he could sign it—he then made this statement, which I took down in writing, and afterwards read it over to him, and he signed it. (Read: "Between 8 and 9 p.m. on Saturday, 13th November, I went indoors and found my wife, who is subject to fainting fits, lying on the ground on her face. She could not speak. I lifted her up, when she said, 'Oh, my God! I spilt the boiling water all over me.' I took hold of her to carry her upstairs, and she screamed. I took her upstairs, and laid her down, and asked her if I should fetch a doctor. She said, 'No, I will be all right in a day or two,' I then went and bought some oil, and rubbed her where she was scalded. I asked her if she was going to the doctor. She said, 'No, I will stay where I am.' ") I produce the charge-sheet; it is entered here, "Assaulting his wife on 13th inst., whereby her life was endangered."
ARTHUR DORLING . I am a surgeon practising at 344, Clapham Road—on 17th November, about 4 p.m., I was sent for, and went and saw the deceased at her house in Ashmore Place—I found her in a room upstairs, lying on the floor, on what I took to be some sacks, and she was covered with some old torn sheets which were saturated with oil and filth and dirt—she appeared to have nothing on but a chemise—there was no fire in the room—I asked her what was the matter with her, and she said it was an accident—I then examined her, and found she was terribly burnt and scalded about the lower part of the body, principally about the buttocks and all round the thighs—I noticed also she had two black eyes—on the right groin there was also a mark of a burn, as if
some red-hot iron or something had been passed over it; it was between three and four inches in length, but was not very deep; I could not tell its depth because it was all crusted over—there was also a similar sort of burn over the left ankle, but only an inch and a half long; that was also crusted over—there was also a similar burn on the left wrist—the burns and scalds were distinct, and in my opinion from distinct causes—the scalds may have been caused by boiling water, but the burns could not have been so caused, most probably they were done by some hot iron; a kettle might have caused it if it had been struck off the fire, but I should say it would have been more likely done by a poker or a soldering-iron—if it had been done by a kettle you would have found a curve; I should not think that a fall upon a kettle would have produced those three wounds at one time—she was in a very low and weak state, and I considered her in a dangerous condition, and under my instructions she was removed to the infirmary.
Cross-examined. I did not hear Dr. Lloyd give his evidence either at the Coroner's Inquest or before the Magistrate—my opinion is that the burns were not done by an accident—I should say that the scalds could not have been occasioned by a kettle tipping over, because the woman must have been lying with her back uppermost; the water had evidently been poured on the back.
Re-examined. The burns could not have been self-inflicted. By the COURT. The water had evidently been poured upon her back, and then run in a straight line both inside and out; the front was not burnt as much as the back, which leads me to the conclusion that the water was poured on her back as she was lying down on the ground with her back uppermost—that is just the course any fluid would have taken if poured on her in that position.
ROBERT HODGES LLOYD . I am medical officer of Lambeth Infirmary—I saw the deceased there about 7.30 on the evening of 17th November—I examined her—I found extensive injuries about the lower part of her person, the buttock and groin, arising either from scald or scald and burn—they were chiefly on the left thigh in front, inside, and there was what I took to be a burn at the back, deep and extensive—it extended from hip to hip practically—then there was one forming really part of that extensive burn just between the legs, within the folds of the buttock, deep and wide—that might be a continuation of the other—it formed part of the general burn, but was specially deep there—when the slough separated it would take in a fair-sized orange—that showed a depth of about three and a half inches broad, and about two inches deep—I also noticed a small burn on the right wrist, and one near the ankle on the left leg—in my opinion the scalds proceeded from hot water—I do not think they could have been self-inflicted—I cannot imagine how the burns were caused—I should think by some flat surface like a hot iron—I think one hot iron may have caused all the burns that I saw—either the soldering iron or this poker might have produced those injuries—the poker appears rather small; the heat would soon go out of that, but either of these things might have done it; the soldering iron most likely—the space in which the orange might go was caused by granulation arising from suppuration that would fill up the cavity—it was a distinct deep hole going through the tissues right down to the muscles—I think
that the flesh had been absolutely burnt out with a hot iron or a poker; I can't understand how it could have happened—I don't think any of these burns could have been self inflicted—the deep wound in the groin could not have been done by the edge of a kettle; it must have been done by some other person than the sufferer—the woman had two very black eyes; she was very feeble and exhausted—she remained in that condition on and off down to the 13th December, when she died—on the 15th I made a post-mortem—I found there was a bruise on the left side just below the nipple, leading down to a broken rib—I should say that bruise had been inflicted within a short time prior to her admission; she was nearly a month in the house—it was from a blow—I found four more ribs on the left side also broken, two of them in two places, inflicted about the same date I should say—on the right side there were five more broken ribs, but of older date; I mean within three months certainly—the fracture of these ribs was caused by direct violence—I also found a flesh wound on the forehead, not a very serious one—in the intestines I found an ulceration in the duodenum which is not unfrequently found in the cases of burns and scalds—in my opinion the woman died from exhaustion consequent upon the injuries from which she was suffering; I include the burns, scalds, and broken ribs—there was no sign as to her having been a drunken woman—I should say she was not a total abstainer, but not a drunkard.
Cross-examined. The burns may possibly have been caused by falling upon a hot metal or hot coals—whether the metal was applied to the body or the body to the metal I could not say—I think no person could possibly have inflicted such pain upon themselves—I can't understand how the deep burn I speak of could have been done by accident—I no doubt said before the Magistrate it might have been done at one time by an accident; I mean it might be done by a fall against hot metal—I don't think a fall against a kettle would inflict such deep injuries—I am prepared to say it could not, on account of the deepness of the wound—I don't think the bottom of a kettle could do it—the chief injury was considerably smaller than the smallest kettle that is made, and would be the size of this instrument—I don't think the round rim of a kettle would do as much; it would be considerably larger than this—the scalds might have been caused by a kettle tipping over.
Re-examined. It is very difficult to reconcile the injuries with the fact of her falling against hot metal, because she must nave fallen almost straddle-legged upon it.
TEMPLE CHEVALIER MARTIN . I am Chief Clerk at Lambeth Police-court—the prisoner was brought there first of all charged with the assault on his wife—he was remanded from time to time, and on 25th November I went with the Magistrate to the infirmary, where the deceased woman was—the prisoner was taken there—I took her evidence down in his presence—he had the opportunity of cross-examining her, and did so—I read over the deposition to her, and she put her cross to it—the charge then was one of assault and unlawful wounding The deposition of deceased was read at follows: "Eliza Doyle. I have been married four years; this is my husband—he came home intoxicated past 12 at night—on Saturday I was upstairs in the bedroom sitting down—I never go to bed before he comes home—he came upstairs, and gave me one blow in the eye, and that made me senseless—I went quite
senseless, and I don't know what happened after—I know he hit me so hard—it was in the bedroom; I didn't know where it was—he was so spiteful when he gave me those black eyes—I was senseless; I don't remember being carried upstairs—there was no fire upstairs; there was a fire downstairs—there may have been a kettle of water on the hob; there was no pail of water in the room—there was no fire in the kitchen—we occupy three rooms; one a bedroom, one living room, and a kitchen—there was no hot water except in the kettle; there may have been some—I don't remember anything being done with hot water—he was intoxicated all day yesterday; I was sober—he has struck me many times before—I have never charged him or injured him—when he first came home he was saying 'Well, well, you are so tiresome'—I did not say anything to him—I have told all I know about it—I was senseless."
Cross-examined. "I never lie in front of the fire—he did not pull my clothes off me—each time he came in that day he beat me."
MRS. TAPP (Re-examined). The prisoner said he was going to get some oil—I do not know whether that was on the Monday or the Tuesday—I think it was Monday.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RIBTON Prosecuted; MR. COWARD Defended.
WILLIAM JANAWAY . I am a carpenter, of 15, Gaskell Street, Clapham—on Christmas morning I was in the back-yard of the Rising Sun public-house, in Larkhall Lane, with my two brothers, a friend we were going to spend Christmas with, and three of his brothers—we were singing, two were playing flutes, one a clarionette, and I was beating a drum—I was next my brother Robert—I saw a first-floor window opened when we had been playing in the yard about a quarter of an hour, and a hand put out—I saw a flash and heard a report—my brother Robert fell back and said "Bill, I'm shot"—the window looks into the yard—the prisoner threw the window up and called out to me "Have I shot anybody?"—I said "You have shot Bob"—then there was a rare fuss—his words were "Oh, my God! what shall I do?" or something like that—the deceased was taken to the hospital that night—there was an operation—he died on the Monday about 9 o'clock.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about twenty years—my brother Bob knew him, and they were friends—there was no animosity shown that night between the prisoner and my brother. (By direction of the Court the witness drew a rough pencil sketch of the premises and adjoining streets, also the yard.) We were standing in the corner of the yard—we pushed two gates open to get into the yard—it was like the side of the house—we commenced playing in the street, and went round—there is a blank wall in the outer yard—we were by the dust-bin—it was a dark night—I told Gardiner we were coming round—I said "We are going to give you the waits"—we had been doing the same thing before—the verdict of the Coroner's Jury was "Death by misadventure."
ALFRED EASTON (Police Inspector W). About 2.20 on 25th December I was called to the Rising Sun public-house in Larkhall Lane—in a room at the back I recognised Robert Janaway—I then went to the prisoner's bedroom—I saw him in his shirt—he seemed completely broken
down with grief—he was crying—Kellow had seen him—the prisoner said "Inspector, it is a bad job; I did not know they were in the yard; I would not have hurt the poor fellow for the world"—I took him to the station—I read the charge to him—he said "No, not feloniously"—Kellow gave me a revolver—I examined it—I extracted six spent cartridges from it—I produce them and the revolver—I helped to take Janaway to the hospital—I was told he died on Monday after an operation.
Cross-examined. I have known Gardiner 8 to 10 years—he was a quiet careful man—he was sober.
THOMAS KELLOW (Policeman W 85). About 2.10 a.m. on the 25th I was called to the Rising Sun—I saw Robert Janaway lying on the floor—I said to the prisoner "There's a man been shot downstairs"—he said "I did it; I would not hurt a hair of his head for a thousand pounds, I thought they were in the street.
ALEXANDER BURNS (Examined by MR. COWARD). There were about ten waits in all—it was my duty to fasten the gates at night—they had been forced on the night in question by about four of us—they are usually fastened by a strut—there was a lock, but the key would not turn—I had fired the six cartridges that were found spent, at a Mount Saint Bernard dog six years ago—I did not kill the dog, we got a veterinary surgeon to poison him.
FRANK NICOLL . I am house-surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—I remember Janaway being brought to the hospital—he had a circular wound on the left side of the abdomen—the bullet was not extracted till after death—on the Sunday the abdomen was opened and two wounds in the intestines secured—death was caused by exhaustion after the operation.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I fired the shot. At the time I fired it I did not know any one was in my yard, I thought they were all in the street. There was a knocking at the door; they were all my friends. I fired in an opposite direction to the street."
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 31ST.