CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SEVENTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 25TH, 1887.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
SESSIONS VII. TO XII.
STEVENS AND SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City Of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Including cases committed to this Court under Order in Council pursuant to the Winter Assize Act of 1879,
Held on Monday, April 25th, 1887, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. SIR REGINALD HANSON, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Hon. Sir JAMES FITZJAMES STEPHEN , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN , Knt., and SIR HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the said City; JAMES WHITEHEAD , Esq., DAVID EVANS , Esq., and GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q.C., D.C.L., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
HANSON, MAYOR. SEVENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment, denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, April 25th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. CARTER Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended
FREDRICK BERTRAM SMART . I am a chartered accountant, of 22, Queen Street, Cannon Street—in March last year I was appointed by the High Court of Justice administrator, pendente lite, of the estate of Ann Marshall, deceased, described as late of 14, Haselmere Road, Peckham—these (produced) are the letters of administration taken out by Messrs. Pritchard and Marshall—as administrator I had been told there were various claimants to the property, claiming under different wills, and George Marshall was also claiming the property as husband—at different times I had advertised for the recovery of certain Egyptian and Spanish bonds which had belonged to Ann Marshall, and which I was informed were of considerable value—I knew the prisoner as the brother of George Marshall, the husband—I had had various negotiations with different persons for the recovery of these bonds—on 27th January last the prisoner and his brother came to my office—I, and Mr. Baker, and Mr. Pritchard, the solicitor, were there—the prisoner said, "I know where the Egyptian
and Spanish bonds are, and if I can have 75l. I will return with them at 6 o'clock"—he asked me to remain, there to receive them or the money back—Mr. Pritchard, who was my solicitor acting in this matter, then had this document drawn up—Mr. Pritchard is also solicitor for four other persons interested in this matter—I then drew a cheque on the Bank of England for 75l. and sent Mr. Baker to cash it, and he brought back some notes—the cheque was made payable to George Marshall, and he signed this document, that was in case the prisoner was not able to pay back the money—I handed the notes to Mr. Pritchard, and he handed them in my presence to the prisoner and he either signed this document then or before that. (This stated that he had received 751. for the delivery of certain bonds, that he would either deliver them up or deliver back the money; underneath was a memorandum, signed by Frederick B. Smart, stating that the 751. was to be applied to that purpose. Another document, signed by George Marshall, stated that in case his brother was not able to pay the 751. back it was to be charged to his estate.) I don't know whether at the time these documents were signed suits were going on in the Probate Court—I know all the claims have not been paid—the prisoner, with George Marshall, went away with the 75l., and I arranged that either my clerk, or Mr. Pritchard's clerk, should meet him at 6 o'clock, as I could not—I never saw the prisoner again, nor my 75l., and have had no explanation from him—I have not found these bonds yet.
Cross-examined. I have seen George Marshall about six times altogether—I don't know whether the bonds come to something like 600l.—there is an action pending now which will take all the money I have, if it succeeds—the prisoner had come with his brother once or twice before, and has talked about his brother's affairs—I have no recollection of the two Marshalls, on the 27th February, attending in pursuance of a letter from me; to the best of my belief they did not—I heard they were in my room and I went to see them—they did not come with Mr. Pritchard—these documents were all signed together nearly—the cheque is payable to George Marshall, and is signed by him—in one document George Marshall is to become liable if the money is not returned within three days, and the other states that the money is to be returned within six days—I did not draw up the documents and am not responsible for them—I expected to receive back the notes I gave or the bonds—in all probability I should have been content if I had received the money; as long as I got the sum of 75l. I should have been satisfied.
Re-examined. George Marshall had asked me to lend him money before, and I had declined; and some one came to me from some loan society that he was trying to borrow money of—I am not in a position to judge what his share will be, at present I don't think it would cover the 75l.—if the bonds were recovered I have no doubt there would be sufficient.
CHARLES PEARSON PRITCHARD . I am a solicitor, and a member of the firm of Pritchard and Marshall, 27, Gracechurch Street—on 22nd January I was acting as solicitor for George Marshall and another interested in this suit, and was also solicitor to Mr. Smart—on the 27th I was present when these documents were drawn up by my clerk from my dictation, and I was present when they were signed—I may have seen the cheque signed—I saw the notes brought back, and Mr. Smart handed them to me, and I counted them, and put them a little on the slant, so that I could see the 75l.—on the documents being signed I handed the notes
to the prisoner and he counted them—George Marshall had signed this document before—I had previously explained to both of them, at my office, before the money came back, that the effect of these documents was that they would be prosecuted if they did not bring the notes or the documents back—they then went away together with the notes.
Cross-examined. It is not true that they came there in pursuance of my writing to George Marshall.
Re-examined. It was not my suggestion that this 75l. should be handed over; it was their suggestion, and I said I would see what I could do.
ROBERT SIDNEY BAKER . I am managing clerk to Mr. Smart—I was present on the 27th January at the interview, and cashed the cheque at the Bank of England, and brought the notes back and handed them to Mr. Smart, and he handed them to Mr. Pritchard, who counted them and handed them to the prisoner—I waited with Mr. Mathey for the prisoner till 7.30, the time arranged being 6 o'clock, and he did not come back—I got no information after that as to the 75l., and did not see the prisoner again.
HAROLD TYRRELL GRANGER . I am one of the beneficiaries of the estate of Ann Marshall, deceased, and am a civil engineer, living at Dalston—I have been engaged with others from time to time in trying to find these bonds—I know the prisoner very well as the brother of George Marshall—he visited me on several occasions at my house during 1886, he said he could produce the bonds within a few minutes, provided he had the necessary funds advanced for that purpose—the last time he came to my house was on or about the 12th March—I knew then that the 75l. had already been given to him, and he said that his brother had the money, and he could not obtain it from him.
MR. BURNIE submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury. First, because the money was really the money of George Marshall, the cheque being drawn to his order and endorsed by him, and the proceeds of the cheque being therefore his. Secondly, the prisoner could not be convicted of larceny as a bailee, because in that case the bailment must be returned in the specific coins bailed, and the witness had stated that it would have made no difference to him in what form the money was returned. In support of his contention he quoted Reg. v. Hassell, Lee and Cave 58. MR. AVORY referred to Reg. v. Derbanke as an answer to Hassell's case, and contended that the question of bailee did not arise, but that it was a question for the Jury whether the money was not obtained by a trick, and if so the prisoner would be guilty of larceny. The RECORDER held that the case must go to the Jury.
MR. BURNIE called
GEORGE MARSHALL . I live at 50, Manor Place, Walworth, and am the brother of the prisoner—I was entitled to some property of my deceased wife—I have endeavoured to get this matter settled from time to time—I have received no money on account of my deceased wife except the 75l. of 27th January—on 27th January I attended at Mr. Smart's office in pursuance of a letter from Mr. Pritchard—this is the letter (produced.) (This stated that they should have a meeting at Mr. Smart's to-morrow, and asking the witness to attend, as it had been arranged to make the advance.) Mr. Pritchard had been acting as my solicitor; Mr. Marshall of that firm is no relation of mine—I attended and signed that document which has been produced, and I had the 75l. for my own use—it was handed to me by Mr. Pritchard—I did not go there with my
brother to get this money by a trick; we went there to get the money for signing Mr. Pritchard's costs in a lunacy case of my deceased wife's, which was taken at the police-court—there were several other documents signed in Mr. Smart's office on 27th January besides this document—I took the 75l. home and banked it to my account at the bank—this document charges my share in the estate, and also for 12l. which Mr. Pritchard had advanced me—I could have had 80l. six months ago if I had signed Mr. Pritchard's costs, and so I thought I was entitled to the 75l.
Cross-examined. I mean by signing his costs, the costs that are due to Mr. Pritchard—I owed the money in that document to Mr. Pritchard for costs; he had defended me in two or three cases—I married my wife in 1882, when she was 60 years of age—I never heard while I was married to her that she had got any Egyptian or Spanish bonds—I first heard of them some months after her death, from Mr. Pritchard; that I swear—I was never accused before her death of having taken them away, that I swear—I do not know where they are now; I wish I did—my brother did not tell me he knew where they were—I don't recollect reading this document on 27th January, but that looks very much like my signature—I could not say whether Mr. Pritchard read the document over to me before I signed it; there were such a lot of documents—the 75l. was handed into my hand by Mr. Pritchard in Mr. Smart's office, that I swear—Mr. Smart and his clerk were there—my brother was downstairs then, but he came in while Mr. Pritchard was giving me the Bank of England notes—I saw my brother sign some paper as I was coming out of the room, and I asked him what he had signed, but he would not tell me—we always went together to Mr. Pritchard's office; my brother is older than me, and knows more than me; he is principally my guardian, but I would not trust him with the money—I banked this money in the Postoffice, 227, Walworth Road, on the 29th; 30l. is in there now—I put 30l. in in my name and 30l. in my mother's name—these costs were incurred before the litigation of my wife's property, and I said that they ought to come out of the estate—I saw the safe once, which Mr. Granger was taken down to see; it belonged to my wife—Mr. Granger saw it, and it was found empty at Mr. Scott's—I don't know whether the bill for these costs was sent to me as far back as September last—I know I have received several bills from him—I had 25s. a week for six weeks, and Mr. Pritchard wanted me to sign the costs, and I would not, and he stopped it then—I was not charged at the police-court with stealing these bonds; Mrs. Marshall might have charged me, but she did not prove anything against me; she summoned me to Lambeth Police-court for assault; she was always summoning people to the police-court.
Re-examined. I do not know whether it was a criminal charge or not—all the summonses she took out were dismissed—the charge of assault was dismissed after the doctor had given his evidence—the bill of costs was never taxed.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
522. JOHN COKER (14) PLEADED GUILTY to putting an iron chair on the London and South-Western Railway, and thereby endangering the property of the Company and the lives of passengers.— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT.—Monday, April 25th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
JONES PLEADED GUILTY , and also to a former conviction of a like offence.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BIRON Prosecuted; and the Prisoner was defended by Counsel.
FREDERICK CHARLES SCOTT . I am a fruiterer, of 480, Holloway Road—on 21st March, about 7 p.m., I served Jones with 1 lb. of apples, price 3d.—he gave me a florin, and I gave him in change a shilling, a sixpence, and three pennies—I noticed that the florin was bad, but did not say so; I watched him out and then changed my hat and apron; he turned to the right, crossed the road, and joined the prisoner Peck, and they went along together as companions—Peck walked over to the post-office, stayed there a minute or two, and came out—Jones was on the opposite side—they went along the Holloway Road, and Jones crossed over into a urinal on the opposite side to my shop, and came out, and without joining Peck went straight into Peel's shop—I went in, Jones was there and they were examining a florin as I went in—a constable was sent for, who detained Jones—I went in and spoke to Miss Jones and then went out and arrested Peck 80 or 100 yards off, who was brought back to the shop, and both prisoners were given in custody—when Peck was taken he was walking very fast.
Cross-examined. I had never seen Peck before—the road is very wide, wider than this Court is long—it was about 7 p.m. in March, and rather dark—I could have recognised a friend ten yards off—I could not swear to a man's face at that time of the evening, but I could see Peck's form, and he was smoking, I cannot swear to his face—whoever he was who came out, he joined Jones—I was on the same side as the post-office—when Peck crossed over to the post-office I walked on ahead to see if I could see a policeman.
Re-examined. From the time I went out of my shop till I went to Mr. Beal's I had the prisoner in sight—I was not aware that they were being followed by the police—there was a light in Beale's shop and in the street—the man I followed was the man I left standing on the pavement on the opposite side, when I went in.
EMMA STONE . I am assistant to Mr. Beale, a confectioner, of 370, Holloway Road—on March 21st I served Jones with two penny buns—he gave me a florin—I bent it between my teeth—Scott came in and spoke to me—a policeman was sent for and Jones was given in custody—Scott went away and came back with two detectives and Peck—they took him to the top of the shop and searched him, and Jones said "I don't know that man."
FREDERICK MILLER (Policeman Y 246.) I was on duty in Holloway Road on 21st March, about 7 o'clock, with Detective Sergeant Clifford, and saw the two prisoners walking and talking together—I saw them go into the Cock public-house and the sergeant went in—they came out together in about five minutes—I followed them, Jones left Peck, crossed the road, went into Mr. Scott's shop, and came out, crossed the road, rejoined Peck, and handed him something—they walked on and Peck crossed over and went into the post-office and came out in three minutes,
crossed the road and rejoined Jones—they went farther down the road and Jones went into Mr. Beale's shop and Mr. Scott went in and detained him—when I went into the shop I left Peck on the other side of the road, the other officer was watching him—I had never seen either of the prisoners before—we called the attention of Thomas, another constable, to the prisoners at the Nag's Head, but the prisoners did not go in there—Miss Stoke gave me this bad florin and Mr. Scott another (produced)—I took Jones in the shop and two officers brought Peck in, upon which Jones said "I do not know that man, he is not the one"—I found on Jones a good florin only, no shilling, sixpence, or copper—Peck was searched in the shop, and 6 half-crowns, 11 florins, 5 shillings, and 4 sixpences found on him, but no coppers.
Cross-examined. I had never seen them before—it was half an hour previous to their arrest that I saw them go to the Cock—the detective sergeant called my attention to them and said he thought they were two wrong uns—I was about 20 yards from Jones when he handed something to Peck—I saw them both perfectly well and am quite sure of them.
JAMES THOMAS (Policeman YR 18.) I was on duty and Clifford and Miller spoke to me and I saw Peck leave the post-office—he crossed the road and joined Jones—we followed them and I saw Jones leave Peck on the opposite side—Miller went into Mr. Beale's shop and Peck crossed the road, I went with Clifford and took him 20 or 30 yards from Mr. Beale's door—Clifford told him he should take him for being concerned with another man in passing bad coin, he said "I am respectable man, I have been at work at the West End all day"—Clifford said "Where?" he said "Find out"—we took him to Mr. Beale's shop and he was searched, and 6 half-crowns, 10 florins, 5 shillings, and 4 sixpences were found on him—he said that he did not know Jones, who was there.
Cross-examined. It was getting dark, the lamps were alight and a stream of people were passing, but I kept him in sight all the time—I saw the money taken from his pockets, but saw no coppers.
FREDERICK MILLER (Re-examined.) I saw Detective Sergeant Clifford at 10 o'clock last night, he was in bed and unable to rise, he is unable to come here—I produce a certificate from the divisional surgeon. (The deposition of Sergeant Clifford was here put in which confirmed Miller's evidence.)
PECK— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court of a like offence in September, 1877.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. JONES— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
524. GEORGE STRATFORD CONDREN (22) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for stealing while employed in the Post-office three letters containing orders for the payment of money, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General, also to four indictments for forging and uttering receipts to the said orders.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BIRON Prosecuted; MR. FRITH Defended.
March, between 8 and 9 o'clock, the prisoner came in and asked for a Princess Novelette, price 1d., and gave me a half-crown—I gave her 2s. 5d. change, and took it to my father in the parlour, who tried it in the tester and gave it back to me, and I went after the prisoner and said "This is a bad half-crown you gave me"—she said "I am very sorry," and gave me back the change and the book—on 13th April I picked her out from a number of persons at Hammersmith Police-court.
Cross-examined. I was not told by the police that the person who was suspected was tall, but my father read her description—five other women were placed with her—she was not the tallest of the five—the gaoler was there—she wore a black coat when she came to the shop, but when I picked her out she wore the dress she has on now—she wore a dark hat on both occasions.
Re-examined. I say that it was on a Tuesday because she asked me if the Novelette was for that week, and I said "Yes, to-day."
GEORGE EDWARD MINTER . I am the father of the last witness—about the end of March, on a Tuesday I think, she brought me a bad halfcrown—I bent it in the tester easily—it was a George III., and similar to this (produced)—directly I took it in my hand I found it was too light.
ANN JONES . I am the wife of John Richard Jones, a dairyman, of 11, Abingdon Street, Kensington—on 5th April, about 8 o'clock, I served the prisoner with 2 oz. of butter and two eggs—she gave me this George IV. half-crown—I saw that it was bad, took it to the detector, and it bent easily—I called my husband, who said to the prisoner "Where did you get this from?"—she said "From the lady where I work"—he asked her address; she said "58, up by the station"—he gave her in custody—I never opened the till—she gave me 2d. and left the eggs.
Cross-examined. The eggs and butter together came to 4d.—I only saw the half-crown and 2d.—I have read in the papers that she is the wife of a gunner in the Royal Artillery, who has been six years in Her Majesty's service.
Re-examined. She had the 2d. in her hand, which she paid for the eggs with.
WILLIAM MARTIN (Policeman F 235.) The prisoner was given into my custody with this half-crown—she said that she received it from Mr. Thompson for a day's work, but did not say who Mr. Thompson was—I asked her what she was doing in the neighbourhood—she said she had come come to see a friend—I asked if she had any more bad money—she said "No," and handed me her empty purse—I asked her the name of her friend—she said she did not know—I took her to the station, where she told the inspector she got the coin from Mrs. Thompson, of 25, South Walk Place, Paddington—I can find no such place—she gave her own address, 25, Star Street, Paddington—the inspector said, "Is that the same house Mrs. Thompson lives in?"—she then said it was 18, Star Street—there is a Southwick Street, Paddington, and I went to No. 25, Mrs. Chapmans, and found that the prisoner had worked for her before Christmas, and had 2s. a day.
Cross-examined. I have heard that the prisoner and her husband gave evidence in some case in January; I do not know what case—I believe he bears an excellent character for six years as a gunner in the Royal Artillery—I was in uniform—I did not caution her that what she said might be
used against her, or that I might take her in custody—I did not interrogate her again after she gave her address—I have been in the police some time, and often find that respectable persons often give false addresses to save their friends pain—I have found nothing against her—she works as a charwoman—they gave her a good character at 25, Southwick Street.
Re-examined. Her wages were paid her each night; that was before Christmas—Charles Street, St. John's Wood is about four miles from Church Road, Kensington, which is about a quarter of a mile from Abingdon Road.
EMMA COOK . I am the wife of Thomas Cook, of 58, Charles Street St. John's Wood—the prisoner and her husband lodged on our second floor, and paid 5s. a week—they had been there three months and a week up to April 5th—that young man in uniform is her husband—the last rent was paid in shillings, but about a month or six weeks before 5th April I received half a sovereign for their rent, and gave two florins and a shilling change—I saw her in my house about 5 or 6 p.m. on the day she was taken—I do not know whether she had been out at work that day, as I had to go out to work—she went out with her husband in the evening—he is quartered at St. John's Wood Barracks.
Cross-examined. I have such confidence in her honesty that I have been into the prison twice and taken food to her—she did not pay me in gold on 2nd April, nor the week previous, but she has paid me in gold since—I can positively recollect the precise coins in which I received this sum 23 days ago—I have other lodgers—I was not examined before the Magistrate—my rent-book does not say whether I was paid in gold or silver—the prisoner did not give me 10s., but five single shillings—there were no sixpences.
Cross-examined. A genuine coin could be bent in a tester, but with great force.
The prisoner in her statement before the Magistrate said that she got the coin from her landlady, and that it was not a George but a Victoria coin
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 26th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. FOSTER Prosecuted; Mr. GILL Defended.
HERBERT PRIEST . I am cashier to Messrs. Detro and Solomons, merchants, Great Tower Street—on the 8th of January I made out a slip for payment in to the bank of 119l. 6s. 11d.—I gave it to the prisoner—this produced is it—this other slip produced is not my writing, it is in the writing of Robert Call—he was given into custody with the prisoner on the 20th January I made out this other slip, that is my handwriting—this
other one produced is not, it is in the writing of Call—on the 26th of January I made out this slip produced that is my writing—the other slip is not, it is in Call's writing—I never authorised him to make it out—I either gave my slips into the prisoner's hand or left them on the desk, and told him of it afterwards—the money was partly in cheques and partly cash, it was his duty to pay it all into the bank.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was an assistant book-keeper—Call was the principal book-keeper, he was over the prisoner—all the slips that were paid into the bank are in Call's writing—I made out the slips every day, and always gave them to the prisoner—if he was out at the time I would leave them on his desk, and tell him about them when he came back, I never forgot to do so—the books have been behindhand for some time past—Call was originally charged, I don't know what with, he was afterwards discharged—I sent this telegram produced privately, with Mr. Solomons' permission, so as to see the prisoners and arrange with them when to see Mr. Solomons—I did it on my own responsibility, but Mr. Solomons knew I was sending it—I believe Gall came to the office after he was discharged—I don't know what he did there, he had access to some of the books, I believe—I don't know whether he made entries in them or not—the prisoner's solicitor came to the office to see the books—I don't know why they were not shown to him—Mr. Solomons did not give me any instructions about trying to get a confession from anybody—I have not seen the prisoner since.
Re-examined. I never tried to get the prisoner to make any confession—I have never seen him since he was in custody, except in the Court.
ALBERT SOLOMONS . I am a merchant in partnership with Mr. Detro—I received this letter, dated 23rd March, it is the prisoner's handwriting—some time in March, in consequence of what I was told, I said to the prisoner, "You have been robbing us by keeping back money that you should have paid to the bank, and also by collecting and retaining accounts"—he replied, "I am very sorry and hope I shall be let off"—he also said if I asked him questions he would answer them—I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. This conversation took place in the presence of Call, who was my senior book-keeper—the prisoner was an assistant—I did not say that all I wanted was my money—I said to both, "You have robbed us of a considerable amount, and before I can go into any question of mercy there must be restitution, because I believe you have got the money put by"—I have not received any—T did not tell a Mr. Wood that I had received money from Call's friends—I went to the prisoner's house and saw his wife—I looked at things she asked me about—I did not say I must have money or I would have the length of the law—I never said to Mr. Brook I would withdraw from the prosecution if I got 400l.—I did not send Mr. Wood to the prisoner when he was remanded, and ask him to confess, he had confessed before—I said they had admitted to 800l., consequently each ought to restore 400l.—after receiving a heartrending letter, Mr. Wood said, "Supposing 100l. was restored would you withdraw from the case?"—I said certainly not, but I would ask the Court for mercy.
whom—on the 20th of January and the 26th of February I also received these slips.
ROBERT CALL . I was in the employ of Mr. Solomons as book-keeper up to about two months ago; the prisoner was my assistant—I recognise these three slips, they are in my handwriting; the original slips are not mine, they are Mr. Priest's; the prisoner brought them to me—I cannot say whether they were destroyed—when I made out these three slips I gave them to the prisoner; he suggested that I should make use of these slips.
Cross-examined. I can't say why I made them out—I do not say that I did not know about it—since then I have found out why the prisoner did not do it himself, it was to commit me with him, that was the only possible motive—I have seen the slips lying on the desk with the money—it was the prisoner's business to take the money to the bank; he first took the money and put it into his pocket, and then took the cheque to which the slips were attached; I have seen him do it—I did not have all the money—my position was superiort the prisoner's, I was the senior—I have not yet made any restitution; if in future I am able to do it I shall be very willing—the solicitor saw me at the prison, but not with regard to restitution—I was not invited to confess, because in the first instance I, together with the prisoner, told Mr. Solomons everything—I have seen Mr. Solomons since, once or twice at the office—I have not had access to the books since, except the bank-book—the books were very much behind, for which as senior I suppose I am responsible—I can't say whether my friends have made restitution; certain friends have exerted them selves on my behalf, I don't know to what extent—I was not surprised at the prosecution against me being withdrawn; I never asked for mercy or anything else—two friends became bail for me, I believe they were sent for by Mr. Priest, he is a personal friend apart from his connection with Mr. Solomons—I saw this letter (produced) before going with the prisoner to the prosecutor's office; the letter was sent against my wish, I did not want to go, the prisoner did.
Re-examined. I am quite sure that the prisoner had some of the money.
EDWIN WOOD (Examined by MR. GILL.) I am a member of the firm of Blacker, Richards, and Wood, solicitors, of 25, Abchurch Lane—a day or two after the prisoner was arrested I went and saw him in Holloway Prison, by the prosecutor's instructions, as I understood at the prisoner's instigation, so Mr. Solomons told me—I went to ascertain whether they had put by any money they had stolen, and to get some information as to some forgeries—the result would depend upon how far the prosecutor could recommend him to mercy—I said nothing about restitution or about withdrawing from the prosecution—I was consulted as to withdrawing the prosecution against Call, the majority of things were done without my knowledge—I had nothing to do with seeing Call's friends. (A letter written by the prisoner from Holloway Prison to the prosecutor was read expressing his regret and asking for forgiveness.)
By the COURT. I was told by Mr. Solomons that the prisoner had re quested that either I or someone should visit him—I told him I understood he wished to see me, "you have confessed that you have robbed Messrs. Detro and Solomons, and I have come here to see if it is possible to get any money back that I understand has been deposited in a bank by you
and obtained by you from them; if it is in the bank, of course it is only proper that you should do everything in your power to restore it: if you will do that and do all you can in that respect, Mr. Solomons will consider how far he can recommend you to the mercy of the Court"—he said he had done so much wrong he would only be too pleased to give them every information in his power.
WILLIAM HARDING (City Detective.) On 12th March the prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Solomons—I said "You will be charged with embezzling and stealing on 23rd February 13l., being part of the amount given you to pay into the bank on 10th January, and on 8th January 7l. 9s., part of 119l. given you to pay into the bank on account of Mr. Masters"—he said, "All right, I will go with you"—Call was then charged with him.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
THOMAS LECKEY PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Months' Imprisonment.
No evidence was another against
MARY ANN LECKEY.— NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoners for forging and uttering a receipt with intent to defraud, upon which no evidence being offered a verdict of NOT GUILTY was taken.
MR. TURPIN Prosecuted; MR. BAALIE Defended.
Cross-examined. I was a lodger with the defendant for about 18 months or two years off and on. (The letter being read, alleged that the prosecutor had been a party with others in the adultery of prisoner's wife and in concealing portions of his property.
GUILTY . To enter into his own recognisance in 25l. to keep the peace and to appear for judgment if called upon.
MR. MEAD Prosecuted.
MEREDITH TOWNSEND . I am divisional surgeon of police to the F Division—on the 16th of February, between six and seven in the morning, I was fetched to the police station, and there saw Frederick Rudge—he was suffering from an incised wound on the right cheek about an inch and a half long, and penetrating the whole structure of the cheek, so that blood ran into the mouth—some degree of force must have been necessary to inflict such an injury—I considered it a serious wound—in every wound there is a risk of erysipelas, there was no danger from hemorrhage—the
result is that the wound is healed, but the man is left with impaired sensation on the whole of that side of the cheek and a very ugly scar—I don't think this knife (produced) would have caused the wound—my opinion is that it was inflicted with something with two edges, because the scar is not in a straight line, and it was ragged in its edges, and the deepest part had been cut both backward and forward—he had also a sharp cut on the inner side of the left finger.
CHARLES DREW (Police Sergeant F.) I was with Sergeant Rudge on the 16th of February on duty in plain clothes in South Kensington, and between five and six in the morning we were near Ashbourne Place, and saw the two prisoners and another man there close to the doorway of 4, Ashbourne Place—I was in Cromwell Road, and when I came to the corner of Ashbourne Place they came towards me and then turned back again—I spoke to Rudge, and we went down Ashbourne Place, Rudge on one side, and I was on the side the three men were on—the two prisoners and the other man were on the step of 13—I walked to the end of Ashbourne Place into Courtfield Road, and we both concealed ourselves there for a few minutes, keeping observation on the prisoners in Ashbourne Place—after a lapse of two or three minutes the two prisoners and the other man came towards me and passed me, turning into Courtfield Gardens—we followed them, and in Courtfield Gardens we stopped them under a lamp, and I said, "What are you doing here?"—Coaffee said, "We are going to work," and the man not in custody, who was carrying a red pocket handkerchief containing a piece of bread, said, "Oh, yes, we are going to work, here is our food," and showed the piece of bread—I said to McCarthy, who was carrying a black handbag, "What have you go in that bag?"—he said, "Paints and colours, we are going to work"—I said, "Let me see what is in it?" and at the same time I caught hold of him with one hand and he pushed the handbag to me—I opened it and found it contained only a box of silent matches—I then said to Rudge, "Catch hold of that man," meaning the man who is not in custody—he did so and struggled with him—Coaffee then said, "Have a go for it"—I had McCarthy in custody—the third man got away from Rudge, he chased him a few minutes and rearrested him—I then heard Rudge call out "I am stabbed!"—he was then 15 or 20 yards away, round the corner of Courtfield Road in Courtfield Gardens—he came towards me bleeding from his face, and I blew my whistle, and some officers came up—McCarthy then dropped this naked dagger from his right hand coat sleeve—I picked it up and said, "Halloa! what else have you got about you, have you got any more?"—he said, "No, I know nothing about it, I did not drop it"—I said, "Let us see what you have got?"—I searched his outside overcoat pockets, and in the inside pocket I found this sheath of the dagger—I asked him where he was going to work, and he made no reply, and I took him to the police station—on the 24th of March, about 11.30 a.m., I was with Constable Drew in Seymour Place, Marylebone, and saw Coaffee in company with a female—I spoke to my brother and then went towards Coaffee, who was on the opposite side of the road—as soon as I turned towards him he put his right hand in his jacket pocket and withdrew it, and put it alongside him partly behind, and stooping down he said, "If you do I will"—Drew went towards him and he made a plunge at him with his right hand with something bright—I then struck the prisoner several times with a stick which I was carrying,
and my brother broke his umbrella over him—he made several plunges at my brother and myself and then ran away—we ran after him and caught him in a mews—he was very violent, and it took six or seven officers to carry him face downwards to the station—at the station I charged him with being concerned with a man in custody in attempting to break and enter a dwelling-house of Ashbourne Place, and also with attempting to stab an officer—he said, "All night, I don't mind, I had a go for it"—I found no knife upon him.
Cross-examined by Coaffee. You were about half a yard from me when I arrested McCarthy—I did not see you attempt to stab Sergeant Rudge—you were the first to run away and then you hesitated—when I arrested you in Seymour Place I could not see whether it was a knife you had in your hand—you had something bright, and when people were trying to stop you I kept crying out, "Mind the knife!"—I prevented you striking me because I struck you several times with my stick.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. You all three were on the steps of No. 13—you did not offer any resistance, you went quietly.
Re-examined. When I was not in sight they had an opportunity of tampering with the window of No. 13.
FREDRICK RUDGE (Police Sergeant E.) I was with Drew on the morning of the 16th February in South Kensington, and in Ashbourne place I saw the two prisoners in company with another man outside No. 4—they then crossed the road towards Cromwell Road, and I saw them on the doorway of No. 13—they then left there and went into Courtfield Road—I Drew stopped them-McCarthy was carrying a black bag—Drew asked him what the bag contained—he said, "A few paints and colours"—with that Drew took him in custody and I took the other man in cutody—Coaffee then said, "Have a go for it!"—he struggled violently and got away, and ran some 15 or 20 yards—got up to hum and rearrested him, and Coaffee then toned deliberately round and stabbed me with some instrument in the cheek just under the eye—I did not see the instrument—I also received a cut on the finger—the two men then made their escape—I next saw Coaffee at Kensington Police-station on Thursday afternoon, 24th March, and picked And out from about 12 others—I have now no feeling all down this side of my face.
Cross-examined by Coaffe. You were close to me when I arrested the third man, and after you said "Have a go for it" you ran away—when I caught up to the third man again you returned—I have not see your photograph.
Re-examined McCARTHY was about 20 yards away round the corner when coffee stabbed me.
DAVID HOWELL (Police T 347.) On 16th February about 5.30 a.m. I heard a whistle, and upon going to Courtfield Gardens I saw McCarthy in the custody of Charles Drew, and he was handed over to me whilst Drew attended to a wound in Rudge's face-after he had had his wound attended to I saw McCarthy drop a dagger and heard him say "I know nothing at all about it"—I also saw the sheath of the dagger taken from his inner coat.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. When Drew began to search you I saw the dagger fall from your right-hand side.
of the front dining-room window had been put back, and there were marks as if a thin instrument had been put in from the outside to put it back—there were also footmarks from the porch to the window, and there were finger-marks on the window—the window-sill could be easily reached from the porch.
JOHN HOWARD . I am a servant at 13, Ashbourne Place—when I went to bed on the night of 15th February I noticed that the catch of the dining-room window was fastened—next morning my attention was called to it, and I found it was pushed back.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Policeman E 426.) On 19th February I had received information of the attempted burglary at 13, Ashbourne Place, and I knew Coaffee by name—about 12 o'clock on that day I saw him in Cromer Street, Gray's Inn Road, with a man and woman—I was standing on the opposite side of the way in a doorway—as they passed me the woman looked across and said something to Coaffee, and they commenced to walk faster—I crossed over and followed up behind them—Coaffee then looked back and was going to run, and I seized him by the back of the collar with the right hand and seized hold of his left with my left, and said "You are Coaffee; I want you to come to Hunter Street Police-station with me"—he said "Look out, Carry; don't let the bleeder take me," and at the same time the woman seized hold of my arm, and Coaffee put his right hand in his trousers pocket and pulled out a long, straight dagger-knife, and said "Leave me go, you sod, or I will give you some of that," at the same time aiming a blow at my left arm, but through the woman tugging at my arm it went between my left arm and body—my legs were then kicked from under me, and I fell to the ground, the woman falling with me—Coaffee got away—I took the woman to the station, but she was afterwards liberated—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by Coaffee. You were pointed out to me as a license holder.
Cross-examined by Coaffee. As soon as you saw I was going to approach you, you put your hand up with the knife in it, and I stepped back and hit you across, the head with my umbrella, and it broke—you could not then have stabbed me, because I held it to prod it in your face.
JOHN SIBLEY . I am a scavenger—on 24th March, between half-past 11 and 12, I was at work in Brown Street, near Seymour place, and saw the struggle between Coaffee and the two constables—about a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes afterwards I picked up this knife (produced) about 15 yards from where the struggle took place—I gave it to the police.
McCarthy's Statement before the Magistrate. "On the morning I was taken in custody I was proceeding through Kensington, and was accosted by two men, who asked me to direct them to South Kensington Museum—I had scarcely spoken to them when a policeman came up, and caught hold of us all three; the others ran away; some way off there was a struggle, and a dagger and some other articles were picked up in the road."
McCarthy's Defence. I say now as I said then.
Coaffee's Defence. I did not use a knife to either of them.
GUILTY . They both then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions of felony, McCarthy** at the Middlesex Sessions in February, 1884, and Coaffee** at this Court in November, 1878.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude each.
The COURT commended the conduct of the constables Rudge and Drew, and ordered a reward of 5l. to be given to Rudge.
MR. WOODGATE Prosecuted.
EMMA CASTANG . I am the wife of Edward Castang, of 60, Albion Road, Dalston—on Sunday, 20th March, I shut up the house myself, and locked the front street door, but I could not say about the window; it was quite closed, and the curtains were pinned to and the blind was down—next morning I came down about half-past 6, and observed that the curtains had been unpinned, and a pile of things gone which were lying on the sofa in the breakfast parlour—I know these boots (produced); they were taken from the breakfast parlour with a pair of child's kid boots.
Cross-examined. Two pots which had been in the window had been put into the area to enable them to get in.
EDWARD PARNELL (Policeman J 374.) I was on duty on 27th March about 7 o'clock and saw the prisoner with some other men—I watched them, and in consequence of what I saw I arrested the prisoner, and found on him a jemmy, a candle and matches, and a small knife—the other two men ran away when they saw me apprehend the prisoner—he was trying to hand the jemmy to a man, and I looked over his shoulder and saw it, and shook him, and it dropped on the pavement—at the station Sergeant Brockwell went and visited the prisoner—at the time I arrested the prisoner he was wearing these boots (produced.)
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I bought the boots for two shillings in Petticoat Lane."
He repeated the same statement in his defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.
FREDERICK WILD . I am manager of the London People's Public-house Company, at 73, Charterhouse Street—we had been finding the till short for some time, and on Tuesday evening, the 4th, I put 5s. in coppers in the till in the presence of Mr. Price, the agent for the Company—he locked it, and when he unlocked it the next day it was found only to contain 3s. 9 1/2 d.—the next night I watched the house—I shut the door and put the key in my pocket, and went back about half-past 7, and about 8 o'clock I saw the prisoner came down the street and go into the doorway—I ran across the street and saw the prisoner there, and put my stick through the two handles and shut the door, and sent for a policeman—when he came I took my stick from the two handles, and he took the
prisoner in custody—when I went to lock the door as the constable was taking him away I found this key had been left in the lock—I know the prisoner as a customer at the shop, and a fellow-lodger of mine, who slept in the same room with me—I never lost a key—so far as I know only two keys were made, and I had one and my brother had the other—I know nothing about the key that was found in the door.
JOHN HUGHES (Policeman G 124.) On the night of the 7th the last witness called me to this coffee-shop, and I found that he had secured the door by passing a stick through the handles—I took it out and went inside; it was dark—I found the prisoner inside, and asked him what he was doing there—he made no reply—I took him in custody—this key (produced) was found in the lock of the door; it is a common lock; this key will unlock it—I searched him, found a shilling and a porter's badge, and also this small key, but it would not fit the till in the bar.
Cross-examined. You were inside the shop standing against the door—they are glass doors with a handle to each.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he found the door open, and on going in to see what was the reason he was taken into custody.
GUILTY .— Two Months' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, April 26th, 1887.
535. JOHN HOBBS (21) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] to burglary in the dwelling-house of Albert Arthur Bray, with intent to steal, after a conviction of felony in March, 1885, at this Court, in the name of John Harrison ; also to being found by night with housebreaking implements in his possession.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
538. WILLIAM RAWLINGS (31) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] to burglary in the dwelling-house of Moss Marks, and stealing a watch, a pair of trousers, and 15s., after a conviction of felony in July, 1882, in the name of William Jones .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE Defended.
WILLIAM WELCH (Policeman Y 277.) On 19th March, after midnight, I was with Carter, taking a man to the lock-up, when we were surrounded by a number of lads, among whom was the prisoner—he struck me on my mouth, pulled open my great-coat, tearing three buttons off, snatched my watch and chain, and ran away—I saw my watch in his hand—I next
saw him about 10 days afterwards, and knew him—I knew him before—I have no doubt he is the man—I have not got my watch back.
Cross-examined. I was surrounded by a number of roughs—I don't know that all in that neighbourhood have pretty much the same appearance—there were about 100 there—I was in the middle of this seething crowd, trying to get our prisoner away.
THOMAS CARTER (Policeman Y 238.) I was with Welch, helping him to take a prisoner to the lock-up—we were surrounded by a lot of roughs; I saw the prisoner among them—he struck Welch on his mouth, at the same time catching hold of his overcoat, tearing it open, and snatching his watch and chain—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man—I have known him for some time.
Cross-examined. I was in the middle of the mob.
JAMES ROBINSON . I am a paper-hanger, of 40, Ringcroft Street, Islington—on this night, a little after midnight, I was going along Holloway Road and saw Welch and Carter with a man in custody, surrounded by a number of roughs—I went to their assistance—I was thrown down by the prisoner—I was assaulted—I am sure the prisoner is the man—I saw him again about 10 days after at Hornsey Road Station—I then identified him out of five other men—I am sure he is the same man.
Cross-examined. I don't know where the five men came from—they had the appearance of respectable working men—the police were down on the roadway on the night of the assault.
FREDERICK MELLOWS (Policeman Y 246.) On 28th March I was with Sergeant Clifford in Pentonville Road, and saw the prisoner there with three other lads—when he saw me he commenced to run away—I gave chase through several streets, and caught him in Collyer Street, Southampton Street—I charged him with stealing the constable's watch and assaulting him, and causing grievous bodily harm to Mr. Robinson—he said, "I was there, but I did not have the copper's watch; but I know who did have it"—he struggled to get away—we took him to the station—I was present when Robinson picked him out from five others at the station.
Cross-examined. I did not hear the statement myself, Clifford heard it; but I heard what Clifford said before the Magistrate—the actual words were, "I was on the other side of the road, and I saw the copper put over. I never had the watch myself, but I know who did it"—Clifford is ill, I have a doctor's certificate.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in March, 1886.—(There was another indictment against him for assaulting Robinson.)— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
The COURT ordered an award to Robinson for his conduct.
CORDEAUX PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BUCK Prosecuted.
Cordeaux's duty to post that in the envelope in which I enclosed it—I found it never reached Mr. Morrison—I don't know Whitehead, I never saw him till I saw him at the police-court.
----COLE. I am a clerk in the employment of the Cheque Bank, Limited, 20, King William Street—on 15th March Whitehead came to the bank and said he wished to purchase two 1l. cheques of our bank, and he tendered in payment this cheque, drawn in favour of Morrison—he handed it over endorsed, I can't say when he endorsed it—he wrote this order for the cheques, signing it Morrison, in my presence—he left the cheque for collection, and called later on the same day—in the meantime we had ascertained the cheque was all right, and I handed Whitehead these two cheques, which correspond with the numbers on the ticket.
Cross-examined by Whitehead. I cannot fix the time you called on the 15th—I said at the Mansion House sometime before 3, I fancied; from 11 to 3 I said, I believed—we have 100 or 200 customers in the course of a day—I identified you from among more than five—there were not 12—I did not count them—we have people calling with cheques varying from 1l. to 1,500l.—cheques for small amounts are not more usual than those for large ones—I swear you are the man that came with that cheque, I have no moral doubt—I was shown other cheques, which I gave as my opinion were in your handwriting.
Re-examined. I gave Whitehead some money in exchange for the 3l. cheque—I saw him on two occasions at the bank, and saw him sufficient to recognise him.
HERBERT MORRISON . I live at 58, Bethune Road, Stoke Newington, and am a friend of Morant—on 15th March he owed me 3l.—this cheque never reached me—this is not my writing on the back of it—it is payable to my order, and crossed, "Cheque Bank."
GEORGE BEST WINTER . I keep the King Edward VI. at 25, King Edward Street, Islington—I know Whitehead as an occasional customer—about 16th March he brought me a 1l. cheque (I suppose this is it) which I changed for him—I paid it away to a gentleman named Hollebone, with another cheque and a note, which he endorsed, I believe—the prisoner did not sign the cheque in my presence.
Cross-examined. I have known you as an occasional customer for some months.
FREDERICK LAWLEY (City Detective Sergeant.) About 3 a.m. on 3rd April I saw Cordeaux in custody at the Old Jewry—I said, "There is a 3l. cheque also been stolen"—he said, "Yes, I admit that I stole it and I gave it to a man named Whitehead"—he said something about telling the whole truth, that he was very sorry, as Mr. Morant, had been kind to him—on 24th March I saw Whitehead at a common lodging house in King Edward Street, Islington—I showed him this Cheque Bank cheque for 1l. and told him it was the proceeds of a forgery—he said, "Yes, I received it from Cordeaux on 15th March, outside his master's office in Bucklersbury or Walbrook, he asked me to get it cashed; I went with him to King Edward Street, Cordeaux waited outside the public-house and I went in and got the cash."
Cross-examined. I invited you to go over to Mr. Winter to go into the matter—I asked you how you came by it and you told me you received it from Cordeaux, and that you handed him the money—I asked you whether you knew where he lived, and you told me at Dalston, but that
you did not know the house—I asked you to come with me, and I asked lever you various questions—I told you to my mind you had little or nothing to do with it beyond this one cheque—you went with me to Dalston—I tank, asked you to meet me next morning at 10 o'clock at the Old Jewry—after the interview there I did not tell you the prosecutor had decided not to go on with the case—after I left you, you wrote down a statement, which was compared with the writing on the cheques, and I strongly suspected you were the forger—I told you so next morning when you came down; I said, "I am going to send for someone to see if they can identify you"—you were placed among nine others and Cole picked you out at the Old Jewry as the person who had uttered—I asked you to write your name and Mr. Morrison's name in Winter's bar-parlour, and you did so—I did not say I thought there was a great similarity between the writings—you were allowed to go next day because of Cordeaux's absence.
EDWARD HARVEY CORDEAUX (The Prisoner.) This cheque was given to me by Mr. Morant to send to Mr. Morrison—I did not send it but stole it, and handed it to Whitehead and asked him if he could get it cashed—I said nothing to him about signing the name of Morrison nor about opening an account at the Cheque Bank—he did not bring me the proceeds of the cheque, I only had a few shillings of the money—Whitehead had the two cheques and the balance of the sovereign—I asked him to let me have what he could and to meet me and give me the balance later—I saw him in a hurry, I could only run out of the office for a few minutes—I cannot say if he had got the money for the Cheque Bank cheques then—I have never had the proceeds of those cheques.
Cross-examined. I handed you the cheque for 3l. as near as I can say between 1 and 3—you handed me the few shillings between 1 and 3 or 1 and 4—I do not remember having 10s. from you on 15th March in King Edward Street—I do not remember seeing you again after you gave me the few shillings.
WHITEHEAD in his defence stated that he had never seen the 3l. cheque, and that all he had done was to cash the 1l. cheque for Cordeaux.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BUCK Prosecuted.
Cross-examined by Whitehead. I do not know your writing and cannot say whether this endorsement is yours.
COLE. On 15th March Whitehead brought me this cheque for 3l. and applied for two cheques—the cheque was endorsed Morrison when handed to me—Whitehead filled in this form for two cheques and signed it in my presence, and later in the day I gave him these two cheques in exchange for one 3l. cheque and this order—both the cheques
are endorsed "H. Morrrison"—the 3l. cheque was crossed before it was presented—I changed it without knowing anything of Whitehead; it is against the rule, but the smallness of the amount and Whitehead's appearance took me off my guard.
Cross-examined. I won't swear I saw you endorse the 3l. cheque, but I swear I saw you write the order.
FREDERICK LAWLEY . I took Whitehead into custody and got him to write the name of Morrison, this is it—when I told Cordeaux the charge he said "I admit I stole the cheque; I handed it to Whitehead, who was waiting outside my master's premises on the day I stole it."
Whiitehead in his defence said that he had known Cordeaux as a respectable man for 7 or 8 year, and did not know how he came by the cheque.
COLE (Re-examined by the COURT.) The application for the two 1l. cheques was signed in my presence at Whitehead's first visit.
WHITEHEAD— GUILTY of forgery.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
CORDEAUX— NOT GUILTY .
CORDEAUX then PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of two cheque forms with intent to defraud ; to forging and uttering a cheque for 8l. 11s. 8d.; to forging and uttering a request for 8 cheque forms , and also to stealing a cheque for 8l. 11s. 8d., the property of Ernest Frederick Morant and another, his masters. — Twelve Months' hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 27th, 1887.
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
Upon the evidence of MR. PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT, surgeon to Her Majesty's Prison of Holloway, the Jury found that the prisoner was insane and unfit to plead.— Ordered to be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
544. ANNIE ELLIOTT (18) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully attempting to administer chloroform to Edith Williams, her mistress. ( The prisoner was stated by her mistress to have borne a good character, and the Chaplain of the Gaol having provided a home for her, she was sentenced to enter into her own recognisance to appear for judgment if called upon. )
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. KEMP, Q.C.," with MR. PURCELL, Defended.
JOHN HOWARD . I am a poulterer's assistant, of 90, Paul Street, Finsbury, I occupied some rooms on the top floor—the prisoner and his wife occupied two rooms on the ground floor—on Saturday night, 19th March, I was at home about 9—about 20 minutes past 12 I was on the landing passing from one room to the other; I heard a moaning noise, it came from the lower part of the premises; I heard a man's voice, which
I believe to be prisoner's, exclaim "I have done it, but it is your own fault"—I heard the deceased speak in a clear voice for some time, and thinking there was nothing serious I went to bed and heard no more—I could not hear what she said, I was the second floor up.
Cross-examined. I was on the top floor—there is a basement, a ground floor, a first floor, and second floor—I believe the prisoner's door was shut; I could not say for certain—I could not say whether the voices came from the front or back rooms.
Re-examined. I do not know whether the door was shut or not—I heard the voices quite plain; the man's voice was sufficiently loud to be heard all over the house—I could not recognise the woman's words.
CAROLINE SLATER . I am the wife of John Slater, of 94, Paul Street, a few doors from where the prisoner lived—I have known him and his wife about nine years—on Saturday, 19th March, about midnight, I was at home—I can't tell whether it had gone 12; it was just on the verge of 12, if it had not gone 12—the prisoner came to me and asked me to go down to his wife—I followed him down the street to his house—the front parlour door was locked—I went round to the back parlour—I went in and found the deceased in the front parlour lying on the floor—the prisoner was very much the worse for drink; he could scarcely stand—the deceased was lying on the floor with her head resting on a pillow—she was fully dressed—I knelt down by her side—she said "He has done for me"—the prisoner was in the room, and was near enough to hear what she said—I raised her up, and gave her some brandy—I asked her in the hearing of the prisoner what he had done—she said h" had stabbed her—I asked her where—she said in the stomach—I raised her up and got her on a chair, and she fell forward on to the table and appeared to be in very great pain, and she asked to be allowed to sit in that position—she said she did not think it had pierced her—I asked her if she would like to go to bed—she said it was all dark, she could not see me, she would be glad to get to bed if I could get her there—I got her to bed as well as I could—she then said she could not lie down, she was in such pain—the prisoner then came into the bedroom, and when he found how ill she was he kissed her and said "Liz, I am very, very sorry for what I have done"—he then went into the front parlour to the cupboard and got out the knife-box and set it on the table, turning the knives over and grinding his teeth in a most dreadful manner—I called to him to bring the brandy, for she said she felt she was dying—he brought the brandy; he did not speak; he went straight back to the knives again, turning them over—I was afraid he was going to commit suicide, so I called him to bring me some water, which he did—he did not speak again—he went back a third time, and I asked him to bring the smelling-bottle—I did not know what to do, because I had the deceased on my arm in the bed—he brought it again—I then disengaged my arm from under her, and put him on the other side of me, and told him how very ill she was—I then asked her if she would like to have a doctor fetched—she said she would—I then left her in the prisoner's charge while I went to see my husband—the supper was prepared on the table in the front room—there was a knife on the table, a table-knife—I spoke to my husband and he fetched Dr. Roe, and Dr. Roe and two constables, Passmore and Lodge, came immediately—after they had spoken to the prisoner and Dr. Roe had examined the deceased, he ordered her
to be sent to the hospital—she said"Jim, my boy, if they are going to take you away, I freely forgive you for all you have done"—she then asked him for some money, and he handed her four sovereigns—before that she said something in his presence—he sat in a chair part of the time taking no notice whatever till I roused him—she said he came home and was having his supper—I asked her if they had been having any words—she said "No, not particularly;" that he began grumbling about his supper being dry; that she said to him "How can you expect any other, Jim, when you ordered your dinner at 3 o'clock, and now it is 11"—she said that he sprang up and stabbed her immediately, momentarily, with the table-knife, before she had time to get out of his way—it was after that that the money was asked for—I went with her to the hospital, and remained with her till she died, about 3 in the morning—the prisoner was drunk when I first saw him—when he found how ill she was, it evidently sobered him a great deal.
Cross-examined. I was frequently in the habit of seeing the deceased—I remember their being married some months before her death—I believe they lived together unmarried for many years, and then he married her—I was not aware of it until after they were married—they seemed to live on very affectionate terms—when I went in the prisoner appeared to be dazed; he sat down in a chair and did not appear to take any notice, as if he was asleep, a sort of partial unconsciousness; he had his eyes shut—I roused him from that and asked him to hand me some brandy—the deceased was 52 years of age.
JOHN PASSMORE (Policeman G 213.) On Saturday night, 19th of March, about 12.40, I was called to 90, Paul Street—I found Mrs. Slater outside the door—Constable Lodge was there—Dr. Roe came up and knocked, the prisoner opened the door—Lodge asked him if he was the man that stabbed his wife—he replied, "Yes, but it is nothing serious"—we then went into the back parlour, where we found the deceased in a stooping position on the floor—Lodge asked the prisoner where was the instrument he inflicted the wound with—he walked into the front parlour, picked off a knife from the table, and said, "That is what I done it with"—he handed it to me, this is it—there were no marks on it, it appeared to have been wiped—Sergeant Clark entered the house and ordered me to take him to the station—he was there charged with feloniously stabbing and wounding—he said nothing—he appeared to be sober—he walked three quarters of a mile to the station with me quite straight, the same as I could walk.
FRANCIS CHRISTIAN ROE . I am a registered medical practitioner—at a quarter to one on the morning of 20th March I was fetched by a constable to 90, Paul Street, and in the back room I saw the deceased in a kneeling position against the top of the bed; the prisoner was in the room—I asked her what was the matter, was she stabbed? she said she was—I cut away her clothes and found a wound in the left side of the stomach, there was hemorrhage—I sewed up the wound, and directed that she should be taken to the hospital—the blow had gone through all the clothes she had on, I should say great force would be necessary—I went home and went to bed, and near two I was called again to the station, I saw the prisoner there—he asked what had become of his wife—I said she was removed to the hospital—the wound might have been inflicted with this knife—it is an ordinary table knife, worn sharp by use.
WALTER GEORGE SPENCER . I was house surgeon at the London Hospital on 30th March—about 2.15 the deceased was brought there—I examined her and found a wound in the stomach—she remained in my care and died a little before three—I made a post mortem—the wound was about an inch long through the skin on the left side just below the ribs, it passed backwards through the liver and back through the spine—it could have been caused by this knife, it had gone in nearly up to the hilt—the stab was the cause of death.
FREDERICK HETHERINGTON (Police Inspector G.) I went and examined the room—I found no signs of a struggle—when the prisoner was first brought in I charged him with feloniously assaulting his wife and stabbing her—he made no reply—he asked Dr. Roe how his wife was going on—Dr. Roe replied, "She is going on all right, I have sent her to the hospital," and then his face appeared to clear up—I afterwards heard that she was dead—the prisoner was then brought from the cell and recharged—before telling him the charge I said, "I wish to caution you, your wife is now dead, and you will be charged with murdering her"—he made no reply—he placed both hands to his head and in a few seconds appeared to lose all consciousness; swooned away, or nearly so.
The prisoner received a good character from his employers.
GUILTY of manslaughter.— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RIBTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WADGER Prosecuted.
WILLIAM WELLS . I am a painter, and live at 22, Catherine Road, Shepherd's Bush—on 14th April, about 10 p.m., I went into the Swateley Hotel in Goldhawk Road, and had half a pint of ale at the bar—I saw the prisoner there—I asked him for the shilling I had lent him some fortnight previous—he said, "I don't owe you a shilling"—I said, "You do, and I want it; lend me the loan of your umbrella till you pay me"—he refused, and I took it from him—I gave it him back and said, "Now, Pinning, pay me the shilling you owe me"—he said, "I will blow your brains out," and he put his hand in his pocket and presented a revolver in my face—he pulled the trigger twice, I could hear it distinctly—there was no explosion—my friend, Mr. Morgan, who was sitting by me, snatched the revolver from him—a constable was fetched and I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The two chambers of the revolver that I heard click were empty, but the third was loaded—I took your umbrella by force; I don't think you had any intention, if you had been in your right mind.
GEORGE MORGAN . I am a furniture broker—I was at the Swateley—there was a little bit of fun going on, and all at once the prisoner pulled out a revolver and pointed it at the prosecutor—I heard it click twice, took it out of his hand, and it went the third time, he had hold of it at
the time—he said, "Give it to me, George?"—I said, "No, I don't think you are in a fit state to have it"—I handed it to the inspector.
JAMES BOYLE (Police Inspector.) I received this revolver from Morgan—it was on half cock, if the trigger had been pulled again it would have fallen on a loaded chamber—the prisoner was brought to the station and charged—he said, "I do not owe him a shilling, they are getting this up for me"—he was searched and a cartridge was found in his pocket which corresponds with that in the revolver.
Prisoner. If the landlord is here I want to call him.
RICHARD JAMES WALSH . I am the landlord of the Swateley—I remember these people being in the house on the night in question—the prisoner seemed to be suffering from nervousness, caused by drink—Wells was dancing round him, tantalising him, pulling his chin, and wanting a shilling from him, which he said he owed him, and he then forcibly took his umbrella—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, that a man in his position ought to be left alone, and I ordered Wells out of the house, and advised the prisoner to go home, but they took no notice of me—I went into the room adjoining and looked through, Wells kept on tantalising, and the prisoner pulled out the revolver and Morgan immediately pulled it out of his hand—I went round to them and advised Morgan to give the revolver back, I thought he was going to keep it—I advised the prisoner to go home and he went out quietly.
Prisoner's Defence. I had not the slightest intention of shooting the man—I was in a very excited state because of what Wells said—I had been suffering from mental derangement two or three days previously.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for a common assault, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 26th, and
THIRD COURT, Wednesday, April 27th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BIRON Prosecuted.
JOHN HENDERSON . I live in St. George's Square, Hoxton—on Good Friday, between 8 and 9 p.m. I was in Hoxton Street, and the prisoner came up and said "Tommy, go and fetch me a pint of four ale, please, at the Adam and Eve," pointing to it—I said "Yes"—he was going to give me a half-crown, which I saw in his hand; but a boy named Critchfield came up and said "Don't you go, it is a bad half-crown"—the prisoner heard that—I walked on and looked round shortly afterwards and saw him speaking to some children; I watched him, he was going to give them the half-crown, but a constable came by and he walked sharply away—soon afterwards the boy Baker came along, and the prisoner spoke to him—he went into the Adam and Eve and I followed him and spoke to the landlord, who took Baker's name and address and went out and stopped the prisoner, who was only six yards away.
THOMAS BAKER . I live at 10, Laburnum Street, Kingsland—on Good Friday evening, between 8 and 9 o'clock, I was in Hoxton Street, and the prisoner stopped me and said "Tommy, would you mind getting me a pint of ale in a can? go into that public-house," pointing to the Adam and Eve—he gave me a half-crown and promised me a halfpenny when I came out—I went to the Adam and Eve, saw the landlord, asked for the ale, and put down the half-crown—Henderson then came in and Mr. Barnes spoke to me—I went out with Mr. Barnes and pointed out the prisoner to him, and saw him taken in custody—he said that he was the wrong man—this is the coin.
WILLIAM CHARLES BARNES . I keep the Adam and Eve, Hoxton Street—on Good Friday Baker came in for a pint of beer in a can, and tendered this half-crown—Henderson then came in and said something to me—I took his name and address, went out, took the prisoner by his collar about six yards from my door, and said "I want you for trying to pass a bad half-crown; "he said "You have made a mistake in the man"—both the boys pointed him out; he had just turned round to walk away—I marked the half-crown and gave it to the policeman.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. WILKINSON and BIRON Prosecuted.
FREDERICK CRACKNELL . I am a tobacconist, of 33, Canonbury Road, Islington—on 25th March the prisoner came in for a half-ounce of shag and tendered a shilling—I took it up and said "I don't think this is a right one," he said "What is the matter with it?" I said "Wait a bit, I have not done with it yet"—it was very greasy and light, and I tried it with my teeth and found it gritty—I said "Have you any money beside this?"—he said "I have only 1d., I shall have to have a quarter of an ounce"—I served him with a quarter of an ounce and took the penny and went outside to call a constable, the prisoner went out with me—I said "Wait a minute," he said "I shan't," and ran up the street—I am lame but I gave chase, calling out, and Mr. Turner stopped him about 100 yards from my door—I gave him in charge with the coin.
ALFRED TURNER . I am a carpenter, of 4, Charles Street, Holloway—I saw the prisoner running, stopped him, and said "What are you running away for?" he said "Nothing"—I kept him till Mr. Cracknell came up—he said "For God's sake do let me go, you don't want to stop a working man"—I said "What is it for?" he said "It is only for trying to pass a bad shilling, let me go"—a policeman then came up—two men came up and threatened to punch my head if I did not let him go.
JAMES BRAZIER (Policeman N 321.) Cracknell gave the prisoner into my custody with this bad shilling—I found on him a sixpence, four pence, and a quarter of an ounce of tobacco—he said that he did not know the coin was bad, and that he had no home.
The prisoner in his defence stated that Mr. Cracknell put the shilling into the till.
MR. TAYLOR Prosecuted.
GEORGE NOAKES . I am a costermonger, of 2, Edward's Place, Marylebone—on Saturday, 16th April, about 10.45 p.m., I was going home with my barrow, having sold all my goods, and the prisoner came down the court after me, struck me, and knocked me against the barrow—I said nothing to him—he ran into the passage and came out and struck me again; and he struck me a third time in the passage—he lives in the top room of No. 2—I was knocked down, and when I got up I missed two half-crowns, two florins, and two sixpences—I sent Mrs. Clark for a constable.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not strike you first—you laid me right on my back—I am an old man, and no fighting man, and you are a young one—you did not look like being drunk—I was sober.
BRIDGET CLARK . I live with Noakes at 2, Edward's Place, in the front parlour—the prisoner lives with his mother on the second-floor front—on Saturday, 16th April, about a quarter to 11, I followed Noakes down Edward's Place, and saw the prisoner follow him, strike him twice, and knock him down—I caught hold of the prisoner in the passage—Noakes screamed out that he was robbed—the prisoner struck me and got away—I screamed for the police.
Cross-examined. I have not lived with Richard Thick or Thomas Cranich—I bear my husband's name, Charles Clark—I have not had a month for splitting a woman's head open with a jug.
JOHN WILLIAMS (Policeman B 53.) On this Saturday night Noakes complained to me, and I went with him to 2, Edward's Place, but could not find the prisoner—I went again two hours afterwards, and found him under the bed, and took him in custody—he said nothing—I found nothing on him.
The Prisoners' Statement before the Magistrate. "I am accused wrongfully by the man; he struck me, and I struck him back in self-defence."
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN CLAREY . I am a labourer, of 1, Edward's Place, next door to the prisoner and prosecutor—I was looking out of my window on this Saturday night, and saw the prosecutor and prisoner in Seymour Place—they had some words in Edward's Place, and the prisoner struck the prosecutor and knocked him down—the female who lives with Noakes halloaed out "Police!" and the prisoner went upstairs in his house and came down again, and they had another round, and the prisoner knocked Noakes down again in Edwards Place.
By the COURT. They were not in any passage, if they had been I should have seen them go in, though I could not see into the passage—when Noakes got up he sat by the side of his barrow, and then went up
the court—I saw two policemen there, but they went back again, they did not take the prisoner.
Cross-examined. My name is John, not Patrick, and I said so at the police-court—when the prisoner hit Noakes the second time that was at the entrance of No. 2, Edwards Place, but in the court—Noakes did not go into his passage afterwards, he went up Edwards Place—I only saw the prisoner strikes Noakes twice—the halloaing of the woman brought the policemen—I was at my friend's first-floor window.
By the COURT. I know that the prisoner went upstairs—I saw him go into the passage, and I could hear his footsteps—we were only two or three yards apart.
ANN CONNELL . I am the prisoner's mother, and live at 2, Edward's Place, top floor front—I have only one room—my son lives there too—I was looking out at my window, and heard the prosecutor and prisoner quarrelling—the policeman conveyed him down the court, and after the policeman went back the prosecutor came back and charged the prisoner with stealing a watch—I had seen them fighting in the court—the prisoner hit the prosecutor and then ran up to the first floor, but he never came into my room at all; but afterwards he hid under my bed and said "They can't do anything only summons me"—I heard Noakes say to the woman he lives with, "If we cannot give him in charge for assault we will charge him with stealing 10s. "—this is all spite ever since the first summons for an assault on the first floor—Day Blank, a man who lives on the first floor, and my son went up as a witness to Marylebone Police-court—Bridget Clark got the summons out; it was for an insault, I mean an insult, or an assault, one or the other—there was no one in the passage whatever—when Noakes got up he and the woman he lives with went round to the police-station, and they could not get him taken for assault, so they charged him with stealing 10s.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent of the theft, but I will stand what I get for the assault. He called me a thief, and I struck him, and said I would make him prove his words. He has been going on for the last eight or nine weeks—every time I go up and down stairs they call me a false swearer, because I went as a witness for a man in Cold Bath Fields, and the mother does the same.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM NICHOLSON . I am manager to Alfred Letts and Co., stationers, of 8, Stanhope Street, Strand, and have known the prisoner since November, when he had transactions with the firm—on 12th February he owed the firm 9l., and owed me 10s. 6d.—he called that day, and we went over to the Old George to lunch, and I asked him for the money owing to the firm—he said "I won't give you that now, but I will give you the money I owe you"—I said "All right"—he asked the landlord for pen and ink, drew this cheque for 3l. 0s. 6d., and said "Will you get it cashed for me?"—I said "Is it all right?"—he said "There is plenty to meet it with"—I asked Mr. Jupp in the prisoner's presence to cash it; he did so, and I got my 10s. 6d., and the prisoner put the balance in his pocket—Mr. Jupp afterwards showed me the
cheque marked "N.S.," and applied to me for the money—I wrote to the prisoner several times, but had no answer—I knew where he lived—I have not repaid Mr. Jupp yet.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The firm is Alfred Letts and Walter Watson—I am their workman—this matter was between you and me, and had nothing to do with the firm—I had previously received a cheque from you for 11l. for the firm in the governor's presence—I cannot remember the date; it was dishonoured—I know nothing of the financial affairs of the firm—I have not cherished feelings of hatred towards you, but on one occasion I introduced you to Detectives Partridge and Drew, because there were other cheques which were not met—Partridge had not asked me to introduce you to him; we had a drink together—the firm were printing some competitive circulars for you before Christmas, and you promised me and Thorn a guinea each for getting the work out expeditiously—I had received half a guinea from you, and this 10s. 6d. was the balance—I had kept the men up till 4 a.m. for you, but it was a private matter between us, and had nothing to do with the firm—it was for work done after hours; the firm knew nothing about it—I aslo asked you in the George for a cheque for 5l. on account for Letts and Co., and you refused, but drew this cheque for 3l. 0s. 6d., which I got cashed for you, out of which you paid me—you sign your cheques "Webster Brothers"—you introduced your brother to me—I never saw a notice that from January your brother was taken into partnership with you, but it may have gone to the firm—I knew that they were at 38, Princes Street, Stamford Hill—I have been there several times on business—the guinea you promised me was for a Christmas-box—there were two sums of 10s. 6d., the first was cashed and passed through the bank all right, and you told the firm that you were buying your brother out of the Army, and were expecting money from the Horse Guards, and the 11l. cheque, which had been dishonoured, was paid a fortnight after that, and I believe in cash from you, but I had nothing to do with it—I am prosecuting; not the firm, but if I had not done so I should most likely have been proceeded against in the County Court—I think I wrote to you to say that Mr. Jupp was going to take proceedings against you—I handed you the money in the bar of the Old George, and not at 8, Stanhope Street—I do not know that on 18th March my firm issued a summons against you for 9l. 13s.; it would go into the solicitor's hands—I believe you have given notice of adjournment—the firm have not instituted these proceedings against you as a means of putting the screw on; the firm did not know it till a week or a fortnight ago—I have seen your wife several times since the date of this letter. (From the witness to the prisoner's wife, stating that he did not wish to press the charge.) I never said to her that if the amount of my firm's account was paid, and if I was paid the 3l. 0s. 6d. and a reasonable sum for expenses, and the counter-claim withdrawn, I would not press the charge, or that Mr. Letts would go to the Court and speak in your favour—I may have told you, in order to get the money, that I had got the bailiffs in my house—I did not know of a cheque of Mr. Laund or Mr. Walker's being cashed—I should not have prosecuted you, only I knew that other cheques were out—I do not know of any cheques outstanding now—I have not endeavoured to get Mr. Laund to join me in this prosecution; we have had many meetings in his bar parlour, but
never with Mr. Partridge—I may have mentioned the cheque to Mr. Partridge, and asked his opinion, but he would not answer me—I talked to him once about the cheque before I laid the information—I met him in the Strand—I have only known him since last October—Mr. McNegan has no interest in these proceedings, but I have known him 18 or 19 years—I did not employ a person named Swire to decoy you; I know him—I was not waiting on 21st March for Partridge to come to me and tell me that he had arrested you.
Re-examined. The work my firm did for the prisoner was competition forms for words advertised in newspapers for prizes, and in order that I should press them forward, overtime was done, and he promised me two sums of 10s. 6d., the first of which was paid me by cheque—the other cheque given to Mr. Laund was paid by the prisoner's wife, I believe, on the night he was arrested—the third cheque is the subject of this indictment; it was made payable to me—I endorsed it, and Mr. Jupp gave me the money for it—I said "Is it all right?" because a cheque of the prisoner's to the firm had been dishonoured—I am not finding the expenses of this prosecution; there have been none—Mr. Laund paid two shillings for me for the information—Mr. Jupp said "Put it in a solicitor's hands."
By the COURT. The work for which the 10s. 6d. was paid was done before Christmas; that was the firm's matter altogether, but he promised me a guinea as a Christmas-box, and paid me 10s. 6d. by cheque on 24th January, and promised me 10s. 6d.—it was not a debt—we sat up till 4 a.m.
HENRY ROBERT JUPP . I keep the Old George, Stanhope Street, Strand—on Saturday evening, 12th February, the prisoner and Mr. Nicholson were in my parlour—the prisoner asked me for pen and ink, and wrote a cheque, which Mr. Nicholson endorsed, and asked me to cash it for him, and I gave him 3l. 0s. 6d. for it—I paid it into my bank on the Monday, and it was returned on Tuesday, the 15th, marked "N.S. "
Cross-examined. I did it to oblige Mr. Nicholson; I should not have done it for anybody—I did not communicate with you—I said "Mr. Nicholson, this is your affair; I look to you for the money"—he said "Certainly, you had better keep it two or three days, perhaps Mr. Nicholson will have some money by that time"—I presented it again on the Thursday, and the same answer was returned.
Wednesday, April 27th.
GEORGE WALKER . I am a stationer at 28, Ludgate Hill—I had known the prisoner for only a few weeks before Saturday, 5th March, when he came in some time after 2, we talked about different matters, and he asked me if I could change a cheque; I said I could get it changed for him; he then wrote out this cheque and handed it to me, and we walked to Fenchurch Street together. (Dated 5th March, 1887, on the Central Bank of London, Limited, Blackfriars Brunch. "Pay Mr. Walker or order 6l. 13s. 10d. Webster Brothers," endorsed "A Walker," and also "Ensworth and Co., Fen-church Street.") I got it changed at Mr. Ensworth's, 157, Fenchurch Street; he is a tailor, and an old friend of mine, and is in the habit of changing cheques—the prisoner was not in the shop when I changed it; he waited outside—I handed him the whole of the money and asked him to lend me 10s. and he did so; we were together for some hours afterwards—I
asked him particularly whether there was any money in the bank, and he said it would be all right—I don't remember whether that was at my place of business, it might have been going along—I would not have gone to these people had I known this—the cheque was returned on Tuesday morning through the Union Bank, Mr. Ensworth's bank, marked "N. S."—I had the prisoner's address—directly Mr. Ensworth junior brought the cheque back I wrote to him and received this telegram from him in return, a few days afterwards. (The prisoner objected to this being put in.) I received no other communication from him, and did not hear from him or see him again till he was arrested—I showed it to Mrs. Webster when she came up, and she said the prisoner was out of town—I had a visit from Mrs. Webster after he was arrested—none of the money has been paid to Mr. Ensworth or me, and I am answerable to Mr. Ensworth for it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I live in apartments at 139A, Graham Road, Dalston—I still carry on the stationery business at 29, Ludgate Hill, this is my card—I have an office on the first floor in conjunction with a man named Tate; his name is on the door as well as mine, and he professes to carry on an accountant's business, he is not a chartered accountant—he occupies apartments in the same house as I do—I have occupied the office on Ludgate Hill since the beginning of the year—I failed two years ago, but not for a large amount; I am still an undischarged bankrupt—the furniture at Ludgate Hill belongs to the landlord—I am not carrying on business there in the name of George Walker, I cannot, being an undischarged bankrupt; the office is taken in my wife's name, it is Walker and Co.; I have a few customers who I wish to keep together from the wreck—I am very glad to take orders for advertising, the advertisement offices have refused to take my advertisements—I am a printer, but I have no machine or type—I am a stationer, but I have very little stock—I say also that I am a commercial and export stationer, I have not yet exported anything, I probably shall—since my bankruptcy I have not had any works anywhere, but I present this card to people in soliciting orders—the last quarter's rent of the office is not paid—I am a joint promoter of the Jubilee word competition, which you suggested; I have done all the printing and have not been paid; the office at 28, Ludgate Hill is used for that competition—you did not draw up a set of rules at mine and Mr. Tate's request; you drew them up and submitted them to us and we agreed to them, these are the rough rules of the competition. (This offered prizes from 1,1991. down to 1991., and showed a total of 9,9991. to be given away in such prizes.) This (produced) is a complete copy—we are carrying on the competition at our office now, we cannot stop it; Mr. Tate is the secretary of it—upon Mr. Tate's request you waited upon a Justice of the Peace and insisted upon him sitting upon the Board—you and Mr. Tate and myself were to share the profits of the sale of these rules, for which we charged 6d.—we received a good many sixpences, but not so many as we have spent—if you like you can say that I requested you to draw up the advertisement which appeared in the Standard; I found the money and you accompanied me to the Standard office—Mr. Tate did not find the money—the advertisement returned more than 10 per cent.—you did not receive any of the sixpences, considering you were arrested before these letters came in—one sixpence came in before those letters, that was put into a box for that purpose—the
advertisement appeared in the Standard I think a fortnight before I cashed that cheque for you, and I think it brought in 41s., the letters extended over a week or 14 days—no advertisement is appearing now—one sixpence came in on the day the advertisement appeared—it is not correct that I only received one sixpence in answer to that advertisement before your arrest, I have corrected that by saying I never saw you after I changed the cheque—I cannot tell you how many sixpences came in between the 6th and the 22nd March, it was more than one; the whole of the amount that came in from that 18s. advertisement was as near as I believe 41s.—we advertised after that in the Telegraph, Standard, Morning Post, Bat, Sussex County Advertiser, Exeter Flying Post, and one or two others I cannot enumerate—we have sold something under 200 of these rules—we talked about forming a syndicate to get money to advertise, but we did not endeavour to form one—Mr. Curtis, whose name appears in front of that paper, supplied 15l., which has been used for advertising—it was stated that 50 per cent, bonus would be given to any gentleman who formed this syndicate—you have received none of those moneys—the advertisement has also appeared in the People and the Sunday Times—on 5th March I was in a pecuniary condition probably; I am sorry to say that is not an unusual state—I never asked you whether you had your cheque-book with you, or whether you had a banking account—I have got cheques cashed frequently for friends—I have not had a banking account lately—a good many of those cheques have not gone wrong; only one, and that was a man who you introduced to me—I never asked you how much money you had in the bank, and I did not suggest that you should get your cheque cashed—I am positive I had not to see a gentleman on 6th March with reference to paying 10l. to join the syndicate—I got the solicitor and the chartered accountant to be on the board of management—the chartered accountant is not in the same office with me, he is a hignly respectable man in the City—I did not say to you on 5th March that I wanted some money to take me home—I borrowed 10s. of you after we had been together some hours—I did not say to you that if I had 1l. or 2l. to put the advertisement in the Sunday papers the money would be in in the course of the ensuing week, or that I had a person who was going to advance 10l. on the next day, Sunday—Mr. Nicholson requested me to join in this prosecution—I should have done so if he had not come—I think Detective Partridge called upon me, but I was out—I did not see him until I was at Bow Street—after I had received this cheque you did not tell me it could not be met unless I gave you part of the 10l. I was to receive; that is something you have made up since you have been here, this is the first time I have heard of the 10l.—I saw you on the Monday after 5th March—you told me the cheque was all right; what you said was "I have paid enough in but 3s., and I don't think they would send it back," and I said "No, I don't think they will"—you either sent this telegram or got a friend to send it—on the Monday I did not say I had not received the 10l. from my friend on the Sunday, and you did not say that therefore you could not meet the cheque—I obtained an acceptance from you on the Monday for 20l.—I gave you no consideration whatever for that—I have not discounted it, or tried to; the cheque coming back shook my confidence in you, and I would not have anything to do with you, (This became due on June 8th, and stated
"Three months after date pay to order the amount of 20l. Webster Brothers." Endorsed "Walker and Co.") I did not say the cheque would not be back until the middle of the week, and that it would give me time to get this discounted, and that the balance of the money would enable me to go on with the competition—I sent my man Kerry out to buy that stamp—I know a Mr. Stacey; I did not request him to accompany me to a bill-discounter, a friend of his—it was your suggestion about the bill—Rule 5 had to be struck out after you were taken in custody—I cannot say whether the rules were issued to the public before 22nd March—you were not to receive five guineas for preparing these rules, and 10l. for examining the competitions; you suggested getting some examiners from the prize papers—Mr. Ensworth cashed the cheque without asking a question—he did not say "I suppose it is all right," or "They are very old customers of mine; I wish it had been for 20l. "—I gave you the money in Cornhill as we were walking along—after I had got the money I and Mr. Ensworth went and refreshed ourselves, and I apologised to you when I came back for keeping you waiting—I did not spend any of that money; I had money in my pocket—after the cheque had been cashed I went to the London and then to the Lambert—while there Tate came in; he is a tall man, but I managed to black his eye that night—I was as sober then as I am now—I went from there to the King Lud—I was not requested to leave there, and I did not request you to get me into a cab—I paid for some of the drink and you paid for some—I had about 9s. 6d. when I got home.
Re-examined. The prisoner suggested the acceptance to raise money for the advertisements; it had nothing to do with the cheque—at the time it was drawn it was thought the cheque had been paid, but finding it came back I attempted to do nothing with the acceptance.
WILLIAM HOPWOOD . I am cashier at the Central Bank of London, Blackfriars Road—the prisoner had an account there in the name of Webster Brothers—it was opened on 22nd January, by a transfer of 16l. 2s. from the account of Thomas Webster—on that day we paid a cheque of 11l., and on the 24th 2l. and 2l. 5s.—on 22nd January 10s. 6d. had been paid in—on 25th January 1l. 6s. was paid in, and on that day two cheques were paid, one for 10s. 6d. and one for 1l. 15s.—there was also an item of 4s. 2d.—the prisoner had no right to overdraw; if any cheque of his had been overdrawn it would not have been met—on 8th March the cheque for 6l. 13s. 10d. was produced to me and dishonoured, he had a credit at the bank then of 3s. 10d.—a cheque had been presented before that, on 15th of February, for 3l. 0s. 6d., and was not paid—there was the same balance then of 3s. 10d.—the last amount paid in was on 25th January—on 2nd February a cheque for 2l. 10s. was presented at the Bank of England and dishonoured—the cheque presented on 15th February was presented again on the 22nd, and returned in the same way—on the 22nd a cheque for 1l. 8s. was presented at the London and Westminster Bank, and was dishonoured because the endorsement was irregular; it was re-presented on the 24th with the endorsement corrected, and was returned as there was not ample money to meet it—on 24th March a cheque was presented for 2l. 16s. and was dishonoured.
Cross-examined. I said at the Court below that the account was transferred on 24th January, it should have been the 22nd—the balance at the end of the day was 5l. 12s. 6d.—these produced are copies of the
ledger account, extracted by our ledger keeper, and I have read them over with him—the account was transferred from Thomas to Webster Brothers, and there were two signatures in our customer's book, one by John and one by Thomas Webster; they came together, and the manager took their signatures.
Re-examined. This pass-book has not been made up after 22nd January, we still have some vouchers waiting for entry—a cheque of 10s. 6d. was paid on 25th January to a person named Nicholson.
By the Prisoner. The accounts have not been verified by affidavit, they were examined by the manager—he is not here.
By the COURT. I examined this with the original entry in the ledger, that is one of the books of the bank, and is in the custody of the bank of which I am cashier.
JOHN THOMAS ENSWORTH . I am a tailor, of 157, Fenchurch Street—on 5th March Mr. Walker came to my shop, and my son cashed this cheque for him—I was out at the time, but I paid it into my bank, the Union Bank of London, on the Monday, and it came back on Tuesday marked "NS"—I have not received my money back.
Cross-examined. I was examined once at Bow Street after being sworn—my son is not here—I don't know that my son is more intimate with Mr. Walker than I am—in my absence he manages my business.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Detective Sergeant E.) I arrested the prisoner on a warrant on 21st March—I asked him first if his name was Webster—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer, I have a warrant for your arrest for obtaining 3l. 0s. 6d. from William Nicholson by false pretences"—he said, "Do you mean Nicholson of Stanhope Street, Strand"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I have a perfect answer to the charge"—I took him to Bow Street Station—I have been a detective nearly 20 years.
Cross-examined. There is no irregularity in the warrant that I am aware of; I did not make it out—you did not say "I don't know any one called Nicholson"—you asked me if I meant Nicholson of Stanhope Street, and I said, "Yes"—I have known Nicholson since last October, I think—previous to the warrant being placed in my hand I saw him relative to this about three days before he laid the information, and on the morning that he did so—I did not know you personally before arresting you—I had not requested to be introduced to you prior to your arrest—I did not call for you at your residence on 21st March—I was waiting in the street to see you come from your house—I knew the party was going to see you who came out with you—you met your wife on Waterloo Bridge, and spoke to her—you did not ask me to allow you to leave a note at your house—your wife could have accompanied you to Bow Street, I did not refuse to let her; you did not ask to see the prosecutor—I saw him the following morning, I left word for him to come up, and that you were in custody—I was not in the company of any of the witnesses after 4 o'clock on Saturday; I left and went home—I did not say to Nicholson after we left yesterday, "You are a fool; I told you not to write any letters after he was arrested."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not receive either of these sums with which I am charged."
The prisoner called the following witnesses:—
Holborn—I have known Mr. Nicholson 12 months perhaps—I know Mr. Macmichan—you have been to my house about 12 times, I should think—I cashed a cheque for 28s. for you one Monday evening in February I think—I received the money for it about half an hour before you were arrested—I was then aware there was a warrant out for your arrest—I did not tell your wife so when you sent the money over—when the cheque was returned, and I found I could not get the money, I consulted with Nicholson, and we went to Bow Street to see what we could do with you—I did not take proceedings because Nicholson's cheque was larger than mine—I was not pressed at all before I consented to join the proceedings—I paid the 2s., the amount of the warrant—I destroyed your letter—it was friendly; it wished me to hand over the cheque to your wife—my cheque was presented twice because it was wrongly endorsed in the first instance—I was on good terms with you, the same as with any other customer, nothing further—this was the only occasion I found fault with your conduct.
Cross-examined. I went to Bow Street with Mr. Nicholson to swear an information—I was not sworn; the Magistrate took Nicholson's information only—before the warrant was executed I received my money from Mrs. Webster.
Re-examined. She delivered the money with a letter from you.
CHARLES PERCY STACEY . I am a representative in the paper trade, and was formerly manager of Messrs. Waterlow and Son's, Birchin Lane branch—I have known Nicholson since 1871—he succeeded Mr. Bilby as Waterlow's representative on the Northern ground—I know nothing about any acceptances—I do not know Mr. Edwards, a City bill-discounter—so far as I recollect I swear Walker said nothing to me on 7th March about my accompanying him to a gentleman to get acceptances discounted—I have known Walker some years—on 7th March I heard sad accounts of you from Nicholson and Macmichan, and I thought it my duty to inform Walker, and I did so—I heard from Nicholson an information was likely to be granted against you—I told Walker the information was for uttering cheques without having money at your bankers'—he said he had cashed a cheque for you on Saturday at Ensworth's—I said he had better try to get back the money—he waited for you on Tuesday and Wednesday, and wrote to you, and subsequently he had a telegram from you saying you were at Oldham—I told your wife I had not known you two hours—I had only been in your company about two minutes one Saturday before 7th March.
The prisoner in his defence pointed out alleged discrepancies in the evidence of the witnesses before the Magistrate and that which they had, given now, and he contended that the prosecution had failed to make out that he had received the money for the two cheques.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
MILO YOUNG . I am messenger at the principal office of the National Provincial Bank, 112, Bishopsgate Street—on 7th April, about 4 p.m., I saw the prisoner standing in the left-hand corner of the banking-room, behind the folding-doors, in a very suspicious manner—no business was transacted in the corner there—I went towards him, when he ran out at
the folding doors, dropping this uniform coat from behind him down at his heels in the corner—there are no pegs there; this coat would hang on the hat-stand in the hall, some few yards on the other side of the doors, seven or eight yards, I should say, from where I saw him—it is the property of the bank; Thomas Back, a messenger, wore it—I ran after him, and saw him stopped—I detained him, and sent for a constable, and charged him with stealing the two coats—he was wearing this Chesterfield; he pulled it off and threw it down when I got to him—the Chesterfield was hanging on the hat-stand at the same time as the other; it is the property of Frank Chaplin—the prisoner merely asked me to let him go, to let him have a chance this time.
THOMAS BACK . I am messenger at the National Provincial Bank, Bishopsgate Street—I hung up this coat in the hall at the door on this morning, and saw it there safe at 3 o'clock—it is the property of the Bank; I wear it, and am responsible for it.
ROBERT SAKE (City Policeman.) On this afternoon, a little before 4 o'clock, I saw the prisoner detained by Back—this Chesterfield overcoat was lying at his heels in Adams Court, where he was stopped—I took him back to the Bank from instructions I received from Young—I was there shown this uniform overcoat, and he was charged with stealing the two—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. The coat was picked up from your heels by a passerby, and handed to Young, who handed it to me—I saw it picked up.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that he went into the Bank with a companion to change a cheque, and that his companion asked him to hold the coats, saying they were his own, and telling him to wait there a few minutes; and in his defence he said that he had been previously convicted, and that he had since tried to get an honest living.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** †to a conviction of felony in May, 1884, at this Court, in the name of George Mitchell . (There were three other indictments against him for similar offences.)— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. FIRMINGER Prosecuted: MR. PURCELL Defended.
GEORGE STUBBS . I am a compositor of 47, Alma Street, New North Road—about 12.30 a.m. on the 9th of March I saw a woman whom I thought I knew in Bookham Street, New North Road—I walked up the street and saw her going up the steps of No. 53—I saw I was mistaken—I passed the house, I did not speak to her—I then turned to go home, as I passed the house again I observed the woman and the prisoner talking on the kerb, I walked inside on the pavement between them and the wall—the prisoner struck at me with this walking stick (produced)—he missed me but hit the wall—I turned and asked him what he meant by it—he swore at me; I can't remember the words—I went across the road, he followed me, and when I was round the corner of Nile Street he struck at my head with the stick—I avoided the blow and it fell on my shoulder—I then struck him with my fist in self-defence, in the mouth, and he thrust the stick into my eye—he was then rather more than an arm's length from me—after that he stood talking to me—he was crying because his mouth was cut, and he threatened to gouge my other eye out and other expressions, I cannot remember the exact words—after that I
went to a doctor and then to the hospital, where they removed my eye to prevent the other eye being affected.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was apprehended on the 4th of April, and this happened on the 9th of March—I saw him coming out of his house on the 4th of April about six o'clock, before he was arrested—I was in the street about eight o'clock or just before with a policeman, and the prisoner was then apprehended on this charge—when I accused him he said, "The man is mad, I know nothing about it"—on the 9th of March I had been strolling about with two or three friends—we had been to one or two places of refreshment; not more than two—I left work with them at eight and walked up Holborn—I left my mates in Holborn about a quarter to 12—I had seen the prisoner once before on that night after I saw the woman, but up to that night he was a perfect stranger to me—he passed by me after I passed by the woman—I turned back to go home, having turned out of my way to see if I knew the woman—I was in the man's company ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I might have said something, I struck him in the mouth—this was on the Wednesday—I first communicated with the police on the following Tuesday, the 15th—I know the prisoner lived at Bookham Street—I live close by, in an adjoining street—I only came out of the hospital on the Sunday, the 13th—the man who did the injury had no grievance against me, I had no quarrel with him—I am positive the prisoner is the man—I pointed him out to a policeman when he was taken—two men, Knight and Valentine, were there when the injury was caused—Knight was before the Magistrate, Valentine was not—Knight was at the corner of the street three or four yards away, and Valentine was about 10 or 12 yards away—Nile Street, where the injury was inflicted, is a very small and narrow but well lighted street—there was nearly a full moon that evening.
Re-examined. I was perfectly sober—the prisoner was dressed then as he is now—I believe he was sober—I pointed him out in the street to the constable.
ARTHUR KNIGHT . I live at 34, Compton Buildings, Goswell Road—on the 9th of March, at 12.30 a.m., I was with a friend, and saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor across the shoulder with a walking stick, which broke—Stubbs struck the prisoner with his fist and the prisoner struck the prosecutor with his broken stick, he said nothing—they both ran out into the road, and as Stubbs was going the prisoner said if he did not go home with that he would gouge his other eye out—I afterwards stood talking to the prisoner—I am positive he is the man, he was dressed in the same way as near as could be—he thought we were companions of Stubbs—he said he would serve me and my friend Valentine the same as he had served Mr. Stubbs—he then went to a house next a brick wall in Bookham Street.
Cross-examined. I gave evidence at the police-court on the 5th of April, and saw the prisoner in the dock—I had not been shown a number of men to see if I could recognise him among them—I was sure he was the man—I had not seen him before the night he committed the injury, he was a perfect stranger to me—the two men were standing about two arms' length from me—Valentine was facing me ready to shake hands, it is not true that he was some distance from me—the injury was caused in Nile Street—the whole thing took place in about an instant—I gave Stubbs my name that night as he was going to the doctor—Stubbs sent a letter asking me to
go to the police-court, I have left the letter at home—for two or three minutes the prisoner was going to set on us, thinking we were Stubbs's companions—we talked quietly afterwards to the man who had gouged the other man's eye out.
Re-examined. I was talking to the prisoner for about 10 minutes—there were two lamps just by where this occurred, we talked under them—we asked him whether he knew Stubbs, or what he had done it for—he gave no explanation—he made no answer—I told him we had nothing to do with Stubbs.
JOHN THOMAS VALENTINE . On the 9th of March, at 20 minutes to one, I was with Knight at the corner of Nile and Bookham Streets—I was just on the point of shaking hands when Stubbs came round the corner rather sharply, followed by the prisoner, who struck Stubbs across the shoulder with his stick, which broke—Stubbs delivered the prisoner a blow with his fist, and in return the prisoner pushed the broken portion of his stick into Stubbs' eye—I said to the prisoner we were no more friends of Stubbs than we were of him; he said he would have served the prosecutor's friends the same as he had served him—I am sure the prisoner is the man I saw that evening.
Cross-examined. This is the first time I have seen the prisoner since that night—I have not been asked to pick him out from a number of men—I was not at the police-court—I had not seen the man who struck the blow before—I gave Stubbs my name that evening, and I was asked to come here last Tuesday week after the prisoner had been committed—the prisoner and prosecutor were in the street about two minutes while I was there—the man who struck the blow was under my observation about 10 minutes—during that time he was striking and being struck and talking to me and Knight—I was standing about half a yard from Knight—it is not true that I was 12 yards from him.
Re-examined. I was talking to the prisoner afterwards for eight minutes; that was near a lamp-post—I am sure he is the man.
JOHN THOMAS LODGE (Policeman G 240.) I took the prisoner on 4th April—he said "The man must be wrong"—when we got further towards the station he said he could not understand why he should be taken in custody three or four weeks after the time—he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. I was on point duty at the corner of Bookham Street—some one is on point duty there till 2 a.m.; some one would be there at 12.30, unless called away—we are often called away—I knew nothing about this case before—when the prosecutor spoke to me he told me he had suspicions that the man lived somewhere in the street, and when the man came out he pointed him out to me—he told me about the affair, and that he had been to a Magistrate, and a warrant was out—he did not tell me the facts; there was time for nothing before he pointed out the prisoner—he said he had got a warrant out for wounding him and causing the loss of his eye—he said he had been assaulted by the prisoner; he did not say when—the prisoner said "The man is wrong"—I would not swear whether he added "I know nothing about it"—the prisoner lives at 53, Bookham Street; that is a house next a wall—I cannot say whether it is the only house in the street next to a wall—I did not notice.
By the JURY. When the prisoner was given into custody there was no mention of the time the occurrence took place—the prosecutor did not mention to the prisoner the date the offence was committed—the prisoner
said he did not know why a man should be taken into custody so long afterwards.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
554. WILLIAM JOHNSON (50) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences from Richard Spurgeon a jacket, with intent to defraud. (There was another indictment against him for forgery.)— One Month without Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 27th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
JOHN PARKER . I am a cabinet-maker, of 2, Taunday Villas, Seven Sisters' Road, Tottenham—on Sunday, 7th November, at 8.30 a.m., I turned out on the Braemar Estate, a black gelding pony 12 hands high, about six years old, broken knees, docked tail, and a piece out of the off-side ear—I also turned out on the same day a dark-brown gelding pony 12 1/2 hands high, with a mealy nose, a scar inside the off-side hook, a short tail, and six years old—I would not have taken 30l. for the two, and they were worth 10l. each in the market—I gave nine guineas for the little one—they were safe about 3 o'clock, and I missed them at 4.15—about 10th January I was at Folkestone and saw Mr. Vincent driving my black pony—I told him he had been stolen—I have not got him back yet—about March 4th I saw the brown pony in Caledonian Road Cattle Market in Mr. Harris's possession—I identified it, and got it back—while I was looking for my ponies I came across George Howard, who had lost a bay mare that day, from some ground directly opposite—after that I went with Howard to Eltham, and saw the prisoner's father, Moses Lee, and his uncle, Old Jack Lee, who gave me 12l. and a little chestnut pony—I spent a deal of money trying to find the prisoner—on 5th March Old Jack Lee came to my house and made a communication to me—the prisoner was then in custody.
Cross-examined. The 12l. I got from the uncle I took for my expenses—I was 8l. 16s. out of pocket travelling about to look for my ponies—after I had got the 12l. and the pony I still signed the charge-sheet—I did not take the 12l. to square the matter—I paid 4l. 10s. for the black gelding—a fence and a footpath separate the estate from the main road—the ponies were loose in the field—Mr. Harris only gave 2l. for his pony, because he was glandered.
Re-examined. I gave 4l. 10s. for the black gelding 12 months before, but he was worth 26l.; he could trot—I chopped for the brown one, I gave a mare and 5l. 10s. for him—when the uncle came on 5th March, he said, "They have got the boy in"—I said, "Indeed"—he said, "Now you don't want to swear to your ponies"—I said, "Oh, I want them," and went away, and he came back and said, "I am now going to Howard."
GEORGE HOWARD . I am a general dealer, of 82, Leckenbury Road, Tottenham—on 7th November I had a brown bay mare pony, six years old, 12 1/2 hands high, in foal, short tail and mane, and a few grey hairs on her withers—she was turned out on the Braemar Estate, opposite where Parker's ponies were turned out—I saw her at 8 a.m., and missed her at 4.30 p.m.—I gave information to the police, and made inquiries for several weeks afterwards, during which time I fell in with Parker—I next saw my mare on 8th January, at Ashford, in Jacob Rossiter's possession—I went with him to Eltham, and saw the prisoner's father; after which, in the middle of February, old Jack Lee came to me and gave me 12l., which I accepted—my mare was worth about ten guineas.
Cross-examined. Jack Lee gave me 12l., the extra 2l. was towards my expenses—it cost me 40l. travelling about—my mare was not hobbled or fettered, but she was fenced in.
ALFRED HOWE (Kent Constabulary.) On 8th November, about 10.30, I was at Biddenden Fair, and saw the prisoner arrive driving a black pony in a big cart, too large for the pony—another man was with him, and a dark brown pony was tied behind—he was going towards where horses are sold—I saw the same cart again during the afternoon, but not the prisoner—next morning, about 9 o'clock I was at the Chequers public-house and saw the prisoner there, and several others, but I did not notice whether they were with him, or whether the man I saw with him the day before was there.
Cross-examined. Biddenden is about 13 miles the other side of Maidstone—it has a large horse fair, and about 500 people attend from all quarters—I could not recognise either of the two prisoners again—I saw the same cart during the afternoon with three or four different ponies in it, showing how they went in harness—the prisoner's father is a horsedealer—that was the first time I saw him at the fair—I know most of the other horse dealers by sight but not their names—it is not uncommon for a deal to take place between two men who do not know each other's names—the dark pony was sweating as if he had been driven.
JACOB ROSSITER . I live at 58, Gravel Walk, Ashford—on 8th November I was in Biddenden Fair about 11 o'clock, and saw the prisoner with three ponies; one was a bay mare, and the other two were dark ones—he asked me 10l. for the bay mare, but came down to 6l.—I bought her and have kept her ever since—I showed her to Mr. Howard, who identified her.
Cross-examined. I gave what the pony was worth, 10l. was too much at that time of the year—this sale took place in the open market, and a number of persons were listening to the deal—the fair begins at 11, and the deal was about 12 o'clock.
FRANK SIMPSON . I am a horse dealer, and live near Ashford—I Was at Biddenden Fair on 8th November, and saw the prisoner there; he had had a little too much drink—I bought a dark brown pony of him for
4l. and a crown—I kept it till the next fair, and then chopped it for another, with George Carter, a wooden-legged man, and I don't know what has become of it—on the Tuesday before Christmas I was at Ashford Market, and bought a black pony of the prisoner for 4l. and a crown and a little treat, and he gave his chap 1s.—the pony was clipped, and had very bad broken knees—my father sold it on my behalf to a man named Sparkes, who sold it to Mr. Vincent for his son-in-law.
Cross-examined. He sold both ponies quite openly; other people were standing about—I do not think I had spoken to him before, but I had seen his father—I did not know where he lived.
RICHARD OTTAWAY . I am a labourer, of Biddenden, and keep horses—on Tuesday, November 9th, I was at the Chequers at Biddenden, and saw the prisoner and another man there breakfasting together—he engaged me to clip a little black pony with rather a short tail, which was in the stable at the time—I clipped it; he paid me half-a-crown and drove off—on 9th April the police took me to Folkestone—I saw a pony in Mr. Vincent's possession, and recognised it as the one I clipped for the prisoner.
Cross-examined. He wanted the pony clipped trotter fashion—he had a rough coat—the clipping altered his appearance a good deal, and made him look neater and trimmer—he was in the public stable—there was nothing secret about the trimming; one or two people were about—he said his name was Moses Lee, and that he was a horse-dealer, but he did not say where he came from.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is a stranger to me, but I know his father, and have known his address for 20 or 30 years—he is a horsedealer and a very respectable man—the sale took place in the open market—I thought 6l. a fair price for the pony—he was broken-kneed.
ALFRED VINCENT . I am a dairyman, of 16, Rosendale Street, Folkestone—Sparks bought a pony for me in Ashford Market of David Simpson for 6l. 5s.—I was present and took it away—on the next Monday, 10th January, I was driving it in Folkestone, and Mr. Parker stopped me and claimed it.
Cross-examined. I have been in the habit of driving all my life—6l. 5s. was a fair price at that time of year.
THOMAS MORTIMER (Policeman R 163.) I was on duty round Lea Villas, near Eltham, from 3rd January to 7th February, from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m.—the prisoner lives there with his father, and I was instructed to apprehend him if I saw him—I saw him at the beginning of the month before I knew he was wanted—I received my instructions about 18th or 19th January, after which I did not see him—he did not come home to my knowledge—I made inquiries in the neighbourhood, but failed to find him.
Cross-examined. I was not examined before the Magistrate—I am off duty all day—people go to bed early there and get up early—I know the prisoner's father as a respectable man—I have known the prisoner 11 years; he has never been charged—he has been out on bail.
Re-examined. He lives at home and comes home from day to day, but sometimes when attending fairs he might go away for a week, but not
often longer—he has been away a couple of days, or if at Canterbury three days.
JOSEPH LOCAR (Policeman.) I am stationed at Stoke Newington—on 5th March I went to Sideup Police-station, saw the prisoner, and told him I should take him in custody for stealing three horses on 7th November, from a piece of building land at Tottenham—he said "I did not steal them, I bought them at Biddenden Fair of a man I do not know; I gave him 12l. for the three; one I sold to Rossiter, and one I sold to a man named Simpson—on 10th March, when I was taking him from the police-court to the station, he said "I sold two ponies to Simpson; one I sold on 8th November and the other I sold before Christmas at Ashford Market."
Cross-examined. He asked the prosecutor which pony he had got back—he said "The Dodger; I put him into a cart; he kicked the back out, and nearly broke my neck"—I do not know whether that was true, but all the other information he gave me was true, names and all.
Witnesses or the Defence.
ANDREW HAMMOND . I am a general dealer, of Greenwich, and know the prisoner—I met him at Wrotham, in Kent, at the Horse and Groom, on Sunday, November 7th—he had two ponies with him, a bay and a chestnut—I had seen the bay in his possession six weeks before about Woolwich, carting potatoes—I was in Smith's Market, Edmonton, and saw Mr. Gilham trying to sell the chestnut pony to the prisoner—I am sure the chestnut pony I saw at Wrotham was the one I saw him trying to buy of Gilham—I drove with him about Maidstone, and ultimately to Biddenden Fair—he had no other horse or pony with him that I saw, and if he had I must have seen them—I was not with him during the day at the fair—I saw him trying to buy horses, but did not pay any attention.
Cross-examined. We got to the fair on the 8th, about 10 o'clock—the chestnut pony was driven and the bay was tied behind—the fair begins at any time, there is no special time—he did not take any black pony—it was a bright chesnut pony, and would not easily be mistaken for a black one—I went into the fair, I did not notice whether five or six ponies belonged to him because they were all tied up together—I do not know the Chequers, I am a teetotaler and do not stop at public-houses—I was not with the prisoner, I was driving my cart and pony, and he was following behind—we got to the fair about the same time—I was not at the Chequers next morning having breakfast with the prisoner; I stopped in Maidstone that night—I am positive I was not with him at the Chequers in the middle of December—I was first spoken to about this about the middle of March, by the prisoner's father and made a statement to him—Wrotham is 10 miles from Eltham, if not more—he and I drove on together till we came to Maidstone that night, and we stayed together at the King's Head, and next morning we drove to the fair—we did not drive fast; I did not notice whether his pony was sweating when we got to the fair, he was behind my cart—I have known him five or six years, we have not been very intimate, I have seen him at fairs—I do not live near him—I don't suppose I have seen him once a week this
year—I have seen him about Woolwich with potatoes—I do not know where the Chequers is.
JOSEPH HICKS . I am a general dealer, of 9, Cannon Row, Woolwich—I have known the prisoner for years, he is about 22 years old—Hammond and I are partners—he and I and the prisoner went to the Horse and Groom at Woodchurch—the prisoner had two ponies, a brown and a bay—I had seen the brown one before, he was driving that for two months, day after day in the cart, selling potatoes at shops—I did not know the other pony—Hammond and I went to Biddenden Fair—those two ponies were the only two the prisoner took into the fair; he sold them and bought a black one with a short tail, and said he was going to Hastings with it—he had a cart of potatoes there and was going to sell them—I was at the police-court, but the solicitor did not call me.
Cross-examined. He drove a lightish brown pony, long coated and roughish; he had a dark brown one and a light brown one, one was rough-coated and the other had hardly any coat on it—he drove the dark brown one, and the light one with the rough coat we tied behind—it was not the light chestnut that he drove nor a bright chestnut—I was first spoken to about giving evidence about 7th or 8th of April, and then I remembered the colour of the two ponies—the prisoner was hawking potatoes in Woolwich, that is his business in winter; his father is a horse dealer.
Re-examined. There is not much trade in horses in winter. I swear to the identity of one pony because I had seen it two months.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of receiving.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 28th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARKES Prosecuted.
LOUISA REGAN . I am a widow, and live at 55, Cromer Street, Gray's Inn Road—on 18th April I was in my room with my little girl, when the prisoner burst open my door and said, "You b—cow, you are here by yourself and I will have satisfaction"—he caught hold of me by the hair of my head, dragged me about the room, and caught me by the throat, pulled my ear ring, the companion to this one, out of my ear, and ran away downstairs—I said to Mr. Neal, a lodger, "There he goes, catch him"—he ran up Cromer Street—I and a crowd of people ran after him; Neal caught him and said, "Give the woman her ear ring and she won't lock you up"—the prisoner ran away from Neal again, but Neal caught him outside Bolton and Pott's—I saw him at the station next morning—I did not give information to the police, he was locked up the same night.
By the COURT. I lodge in the top front room of this house—all this happened because I would not give the woman he was living with a false reference to get a room—this was the second time he had assaulted me—the woman the prisoner lived with, lodged in the top back room of the house; the prisoner was there on and off; he had been there the night
before—the woman left the house last Thursday—Mr. Stansby and Mr. Thompson lived on the first floor and Neal on the ground floor—I have been there two years—the woman had been there since November.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not stand between my door and yours and say, "You b—ponse, you are not going to sleep here to-night; you pay no rent, now hit me, there is somebody waiting downstairs for you;" I never spoke to you till you burst my door open—I did not hit you with a long-handled shovel, nor bite you—when you were beating the woman in November, she ran into my room for protection, I took up the shovel then, and a policeman had to be fetched to turn you out—you pulled all my hair out on this night, I have not a bit of hair now.
By the JURY. The prisoner has been back about a month since the police turned him out; he goes out about 11 or 12 o'clock in the day.
GEORGE NEAL . I live at 55, Cromer Street, and am a plumber and painter—on 18th April I heard a noise late at night and went outside my parlour door; I saw the prisoner going out at the street door followed by Mrs. Began, who said "There he goes, Mr. Neal, catch him"—I ran up and caught him just past the fish shop, about 150 to 200 yards from 55, Cromer Street—he had run sharply—I said to him "Give the woman her ear ring that you have got"—I saw it in his hand—he used filthy language—a crowd got round him—he got away from me and ran, I was in my shirt-sleeves—I ran and caught him at the corner of Lees Street, by Hunter Street Police-station; that is another 300 or 400 yards—I said to him "Why don't you give her the ear ring," again he said "I have not got it"—at the corner where we were standing there is a sink running deep down—I and the constable looked down to see if we could see it; we could not, it runs so steeply down—he said "What did you want to hit me for?"—I said "I have not touched you"—he said "You have"—I said "I have not touched you," and I had not—he ran after Mrs. Regan, who had followed us, to strike her again opposite the Hunter Street Police-station; he was striking her when a constable came up, and he was charged with stealing the ear ring, and assault—I went to the station and heard him charged.
Cross-examined. You stopped after I caught you—I saw the ear ring in your hand, I am certain of it—your hand was partly closed when I caught you, I could see the bottom end of it, you could not quite close your hand over it.
By the JURY. I have known Mrs. Began about two years, since she has been in our house—I have been there about 8 years—the prisoner has made two or three previous disturbances in our place—the woman he is living with is an unfortunate—the landlord does not live in the house—I am caretaker—I have only ascertained since this, that the woman is an unfortunate, she only came there last November.
FREDERICK MELLOWS (Policeman E 110.) On the early morning of 19th. April I was on duty in Judd Street, close by Hunter Street Police-station, when I saw the prisoner struggling with the prosecutrix in the street, I went to her assistance and she gave him into my custody, and I took him to the station—she charged him with stealing an ear ring—he said nothing—the prosecutrix's ear was swollen.
NOT GUILTY .
The evidence of LOUISA REGAN, GEORGE NEAL, and FREDERICK MELLOWS was read to them; to which they assented.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, and at the expiration of his sentence to find two sureties in 20l. each to keep the peace and be of good behaviour, or in default to be imprisoned for another year.
MR. WILMOTT Prosecuted; MR. DILL defended Thomson.
GEORGE PRATT . I am a painter, living at 12, Edenham Street, Westbourne Park—on Saturday, 26th March, I had been to the boat race—the two prisoners met me against the Clarendon public-house in Clarendon Road, Notting Hill—Thomson touched me on the shoulder and said "How much money have you got about you?"—he put his foot out and tripped me up somehow or other; I was intoxicated, but I know he threw me down on my head—I managed to scramble up, I got a few yards, and then one came in front and shoved me over the other one's back, who had stooped down—I got up again, my pockets were turned inside out; I cannot say which of them did that—I had a bunch of keys, a pencil, and 1d. in my pocket when they caught hold of me—I lost my recollection then and remember nothing more; I woke up at the police-station when I saw my keys and recognised them—these are the two men—these are my keys, I cannot swear to the pencil.
Cross-examined by MR. DILL. This was at a quarter past 6 p.m.—I looked up at the clock before it occurred—I said before the Magistrate it was a quarter past 2—I made a mistake there—I was muddled, as I told the Magistrate—I did not tell the Magistrate my pockets were turned inside out—I forgot it, I suppose—I had no watch or chain on—I only had a penny and a bunch of keys—I have no recollection of a pail of water, but I was sopping wet when I went into the station—I am quite certain I did not produce the keys at the station and give them to a policeman—I was just sensible enough to charge the prisoners—I was drunk before I was assaulted—I did not see them before they assaulted me—I just saw them when I was lying on the ground—I could have sworn to the prisoners at the station; I was drunk, bnt I was a little bit sensible—Thomson did not say to me at the station "If I have wetted your coat I am willing to pay for it"—I don't remember it—I had 2s. or 3s. when I went out that day, and I met some friends—I am, not sure whether I had more than 1d., but I know I had a penny and the keys—I have no recollection of an organ playing outside the Clarendon, before I was assaulted—I have no recollection of pails of water standing there—I remember going along in a dazed kind of way, and finding myself hit, and then finding myself down, and then I remember nothing till I came to the station.
Cross-examined by Olden. Thomson struck me first—I have a recollection that he knocked me down—I have no recollection after you knocked me down—I don't remember a pail of water being thrown over me—I don't recollect anything about the keys—they were in my pocket when you snatched hold of me—I have a slight idea I went to a public-house
afterwards with Sewell to give the prisoners into custody, but I don't remember—the value of the keys is 2s.—I did not have a conversation with Sewell on the way, not a word.
By the JURY. The prisoners were strangers to me, I had never seen them before.
JOHN SEWELL , I am a house decorator, living at 20 Steding Street, North Kensington—on 26th March, at a quarter-past 6, I saw the prosecutor near the Clarendon public-house, about 10 yards in front of me, the worse for drink—I have known him by working in the trade—as he passed, Thomson went behind him and caught him by the two arms, and I heard him say "How much b—money have you got about you?"—he put out his left leg and threw him sideways across his left leg on to the ground, and the prosecutor's head knocked the ground which seemed to knock him insensible—I crossed to the opposite side of the road and stood there a little time to see what they were going to do with him—then Thomson lifted him up again, and as he got him on his feet, Olden got in front of him and knocked his trousers pocket with his hand, while Thomson kept hold of his arms from behind-Olden put his hand in the prosecutor's right-hand trousers pocket and pulled something out which I could not see, and passed it to Thomson; then he felt in his other pockets, and the second time he drew out his hand from his right trousers pocket, a piece of blacklead pencil fell on to the pavement—it was very much like this piece—Olden picked it up and put it in his own pocket—Thomson then left go of him and put himself in a stooping position behind his legs, and Olden struck him in the jaw and knocked him over Thomson's back on to the back of his head—after two or three seconds the prosecutor got up; Olden caught hold of a pail of water standing by the kerb for the horses, and went up to the prosecutor and poured it all over him—he was then standing staggering about, as if he could not help himself—the prisoners then ran off and I followed them—I watched them for some time, to try and get assistance to take them into custody—I suppose they ran about 100 yards down the Clarendon Road, and then two more men came up singly, looking as if they had been drinking—the prisoners caught hold of them, but they got away—I followed the prisoners as far as the Portland Road, a turning out of the Clarendon Road, where they stepped into the side bar of the Portland public-house—I went and got the assistance of two policemen, and pointed out the prisoners, and gave them in charge for assaulting the prosecutor, and highway robbery—I did not hear them say anything—the prosecutor had followed, and stood outside the door—the prisoners were taken to the station, I followed there—I saw them searched—Thomson said "I hope one working-man won't lock up another; if I can make you any compensation I will"—I saw some money and pencils taken from him—I could not say what was taken from Olden.
By the COURT. Only one man passed at the time I saw this; I asked him to lend assistance—it is a very quiet road, and it was very quiet at the time.
Cross-examined by MR. DILL. I have known Pratt six years, I daresay,—I am no friend of his; we spoke to one another when we saw one another about working together—I never had any business with him he was 10 yards ahead of me when the assault took place—Thomson did not strike the prosecutor; he appeared to be insensible on the ground,
thrown on to his head—Thomson held him while Olden took something out of his pocket, which he handed to Thomson—Thomson let go of the prosecutor then—it was done very quietly; it was all done in a few seconds—I said before the Magistrate that Thomson placed himself in a stooping position behind the prosecutor, but the clerk could not have taken it down if it does not appear; I will swear I said it—I did not call for police, there were none passing—I asked one man passing for help—I could not go and assist him myself, I was not capable of tackling two fellows like that—I have only just got over an accident; I broke my leg, and I thought the best way was to follow them till I got assistance—the road was 15 yards wide—I had some conversation with the prosecutor when we were going down to the public-house to arrest these men—he could walk to the station by himself; he got a little bit better—there was no organ playing when this happened—water for horses stood at the edge of the kerb—I heard Thomson offer compensation at the police-station—he said nothing about the coat, or damage, or water—he said he would compensate him, for the assault and robbery I suppose he meant—I knew he had been robbed; I could not say what of—I saw the keys produced at the police-station—I did not see where they were taken from—Pratt did not say he would take compensation; he did not speak—he was just able to make the charge—I went home with him on the Monday.
Cross-examined by Olden. The prosecutor did not pull the keys out of his possession when the inspector asked for them—I did not say to Pratt "Pull them out"—I swear you threw the water over him and struck him—you did not both dance with Pratt to an organ; there was no music there.
By MR. DILL. Both prisoners were sober—I had never seen them before.
HORACE CARR (Policeman X 307.) I had information from the last witness on 26th March, and went with him to the Britannia public-house, Clarendon Road, about 6.45—he pointed out the two prisoners to me in the public-house, and the prosecutor said they were the two men that had stopped him in the road; they made no answer—Sewell said they were the two—nothing else was said till we got to the station, Thomson then said "Do you really mean to charge us, or will you let us compensate you?"—no charge had been made then at the station—the prosecutor said he should charge them—I searched Thomson, and took these keys from his trousers pocket, I believe—I found also this piece of pencil, and a knife, a pawnticket, and 3s. in silver, and 1s. 4 3/4 d. in bronze on him—the prosecutor said they were his keys—Olden said nothing—I did not search him.
Cross-examined by MR. DILL. The prosecutor and Sewell both pointed out the prisoners at the public-house—it is not true that Thomson took the keys out of his pocket and handed them to the prosecutor—the prosecutor said that Thomson offered him the keys; I do not know that he did—I took the keys from his pocket—Thomson had had a little drink, not much; not enough to be charged with drunkenness—he was not charged with being drunk, but with robbery and assault—I was in Court when he was brought up.
Cross-examined by Olden. I swear the inspector did not receive the keys from the prosecutor.
the other constable that went to the Britannia—the prisoner made no reply to the charge—I found on him this piece of lead pencil and 3s. 6d. in silver and 2 1/2 d. bronze.
Cross-examined by MR. DILL. Thomson was not drunk; he had had a drop—he was not charged with being drunk before the Magistrate on the Monday—I did not see the keys taken out of his pocket, I was engaged with Olden at the time.
Thomson in his statement before the Magistaate said that he was drunk, and was coming home when he saw the prosecutor dancing, kick against a pail of water, and fall over.
Olden in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence denied striking Pratt, or putting his hand in his pocket.
GUILTY . THOMSON then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in September, 1884, and OLDEN** to one in September, 1885.— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
The Jury commended the conduct of Sewell, and the Court awarded him 2l.
MR. DILL Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
THOMAS WOODCOCK . I am an artist, of 4, Osborne Road, Hackney Wick—I was present when the prisoner was married to Polly Osborne at Hackney Wick in June, 1871—I signed the register; I was one of the witnesses.
GEORGE WALDOCK (Detective A.) I produce this certificate, which I got from the first wife—I have compared it with the register of marriages at Somerset House, and find it correct—I have also obtained this certified copy from Somerset House. (This was a certificate of the marriage of Henry Vernon Bennett to Mary Jane Osborne on 3rd June, 1871.) I obtained this certificate from the second wife; I have compared it with the register at Somerset House, where I also obtained this certified copy. (This certified the marriage of Henry Bennett, bachelor, to Susannah Ryan on 12th March, 1885.)
SUSANNAH RYAN . I live at 12, Little College Street, Westminster—on 12th March, 1885, I was married to the prisoner at St. Stephen's Church, Westminster—I had no idea he was a married man—he said nothing further than that he was a single man—that is the woman (In Court) who has been pointed out to me as his first wife—I lived with the prisoner for some time after marriage—I first found he had been previously married on 4th April, I think.
Cross-examined. He always treated me with kindness, no man could have been a kinder or better husband—I have no family by him—I did not give him into custody.
AMELIA STICKNEY . I am the wife of Robert Stickney, a type-founder, of Commercial Road, Lambeth—the prisoner took lodgings in my house on 26th August, 1882, and lived there with his wife, whom I see in Court—I cannot say they lived happily together, they quarrelled—in January,
1884, I gave evidence on behalf of the wife when she had a summons against her husband for desertion, I believe—in December, 1883, my husband gave Mrs. Bennett notice to go—she took away her husband's furniture, but Mr. Bennett told me he found her the same night, so that she did not take it away.
GEORGE WALDOCK (Re-examined.) On 9th April I arrested the prisoner, when I met him in Holly Street, Westminster—I said "Is your name Bennett?"—he said "No"—I said "I am a detective officer, and am going to take you into custody for feloniously marrying Susannah Ryan at St. Stephen's Church, Westminster, on 12th March, 1885—he said "Yes, it is quite true, I know I have done wrong, I must trust to the Judge above to help me through it, I was told in a public-house my wife was dead"—I said "Well, you appear in both certificates as a bachelor"—he said nothing else.
MR. HUTTON submitted that although the prisoner contracted the second marriage within seven years of the first it was a defence to the indictment if Jury were of opinion that the prisoner had a bond fide and reasonable belief when he contracted the second marriage that his wife was dead. (Q. v. Turner, 9 Cox 145, and Q. v. Horton, 11 Cox 670.) The COMMON SERJEANT, following R. v. Gibbons, 12 Cox 237 and R. v. Bennett, 14 Cox 45, ruled that this was no defence.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— One Month's Imprisonment without Hard Labour.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
JAMES CULLEN . I am a greengrocer, of 18, Coleson Street, Chelsea—I have stables at Blackland's Terrace, Chelsea—I locked the stables up safely about 7.30 p.m. on 28th March, and took the key to the shop—a little before 9 o'clock the same evening I was passing my stables, and saw the door open, and went in—I saw the prisoner and another man with a light, inside the stable—I immediately closed the door—they made a rush for the door and forced it open—the other man escaped—I caught the prisoner and said "What are you doing here?"—he said "I was brought here to buy a pony"—I said "There is no pony here for sale"—I sent for a constable and charged him—I found my two dogs stupefied—I saw several pieces of liver in front of them, which I had not put there, and which was not there when I locked up the premises—I had seen the prisoner several times in the course of the evening, when I was locking the door, and afterwards he was in front of the stable—I examined the door after he was in custody, and found the lock had been forced out by a crowbar, which had left marks—the prisoner was carrying a sack, which he handed to a woman who was standing outside, and whom I had seen with him in the course of the evening—I could not help him doing that—when I apprehended him he rushed outside.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have known you for years in Chelsea by sight—I know nothing of you; I don't know your occupation.
By the JURY. I don't know whether he is in a situation to buy an animal—he knew this was my stable, because he saw me go into it several times that evening.
Re-examined. The woman the prisoner passed the sack to was just outside the door—she had been with him that evening before—my stables
are about 20 yards from where I live; the only communication between them is by the roadway—nothing was stolen.
ALFRED STEVENSON (Policeman B 541.) The prisoner was given into my charge—I took him to the station, came back, and examined the premises—this lock was right off the door, with this portion broken off; the bolt was previously straight—Holmes gave me these two pieces of meat; it is the kind of thing dog-stealers generally use.
JAMES HOLMES (Policeman B R 61.) I was called to these stables on This evening after the prisoner was given in custody—I found two bits of liver in the corn-bin—the door was broken open and the lock broken—the dogs were in a kind of pen of wire-work netting—the liver was not in with them; they could not reach it—I took the lock and the hasp off.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that a man asked him if he would come and buy a little pony, and took him to the stable, the gates of which were open; and in his defence he said that he was innocent, and had been led into it by the other man who escaped.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
MR. BUCK Prosecuted.
CHARLES WHELDON . I am a smith, of 3, North Street, Marylebone—on the night of 13th April I had about 85l. in my pocket, 50l. being in notes—between 10 and 11 o'clock I was returning home from Derby—I was wearing a silver watch and chain—I went into the Apollo public-house—two men came in—I pulled out a 10l. note and asked for change—I did not change it—I do not see those two men here—I had something to drink, and then went outside into a urinal, followed by three men; I was pinned from behind, and Quail took my watch and part of my chain from me—they attempted to put their hands into my trousers pockets—I got away and ran down East Street—Regan kicked me on the ankle, and he either gave me a kick or a blow at the back of my neck and I fell on all fours—Regan came on top of me—he got his hand on my left hand trousers pocket where I had not got the money—he seized me by my throat and I did the same thing to him—he put his thumb in my neck, I can barely get rid of my spittle now, for the pain, he pressed my windpipe very hard—two men came to Regan's assistance—I have no recollection of seeing Quin, I have no doubt about Regan and Quail—I never saw Quail after I left the urinal—they tried to drag me down Blandford Mews but did not succeed—I got away and Regan and the second man whom I don't recollect followed me—a constable came on the scene, he did not believe my statement at first and I got away from him—the men followed me as far as the Angel public-house in Marylebone Lane—I went in there to pay a score I owed—I had nothing there—I came out and no sooner got to the corner of Marylebone Lane than I was thrown down again—I won't swear to anyone who was in the Apollo.
Cross-examined by Regan. I did not pay for drink for you in the Apollo, I paid for men I knew there by sight—I cannot call them as witnesses—I was never in your company—I was in another public-house afterwards, I don't know the name of it, you were in there with me, you stuck to me like a leech, I could not shake you off—after I left the
Apollo I went to the urinal, where I was robbed of my watch and chain; I ran away and then you kicked me on the ankle and got your hand in my pocket and held me by the throat, and another man came and kicked me on the ground till I was black and blue all round the shoulders—I went into two public-houses after I went to the urinal and before I went to the Angel—you followed me from the Apollo—you were one of the three men in the urinal—there was a light in there—you knocked me down in East Street by the corner of Dorset Street—I ran from there into a public-house for safety—you came in after me with another man—I cannot say who he was—that was after assaulting me—I offered to pay for some whisky if you let me go home—to the best of my belief they would not serve me—I swear I did not go into the Fortune of War with Quin—I was not in the Wallace's Head at the bottom of East Street—the landlord would not let me or you go in—I was going to get rid of you only I could not shake you off—if I had protested in the street I should have lost my property and my life perhaps—I did halloa—there were a lot of you close round me—I am married but am not living with my wife, she is in prison for breaking a looking glass—I have one son—I have been twice married—I have some step children—my son was not charged on Easter Monday with stealing a watch—I have been fined for drunkenness—I was no more drunk that night than I am now—I am sober now—I had several glasses of soda and brandy—I had been travelling for three and a half hours in the train.
Cross-examined by Quail. You were not in the public-house—the two other men came in, but the barman refused to serve them in that compartment—you were not in the public-house to the best of my belief—I don't recognise you as being in the urinal—I did not say at the police-court that you were in the public-house—it was between 10 and 11, nearer 11, when I lost my watch and chain, I cannot give the exact time—after I lost my watch Regan and another one whom I cannot identify followed me down East Street, where I was kicked in the ankle—I don't believe you were in the Apollo.
By the COURT. I was not robbed of anything but my watch and chain, I showed the Magistrate the half of my chain.
ROBERT BARNES (Policeman D 75.) On the night of 13th April I saw the prosecutor with Quin and Regan in East Street—Wheldon had had something to drink, but knew what he was doing—when he got from them the first time he made a staggering run—Quin and Regan tried to get him down Baker's Court, a very dark passage leading out of East Street into Blandford Mews—I walked towards him and he succeeded in getting away from them—they let go of him as soon as they saw me walking towards them—the prisoner then went down East Street into the Wallace's Head, followed by Quin and afterwards by Regan—they stopped in there about five minutes, and then Wheldon came out followed by the two prisoners and went to the top of Blandford Mews, leading out of Blandford Street—they tried to persuade him to go down with them, he refused—I walked towards them again; he then went down South Street towards High Street, Marylebone—I heard a shouting towards High Street and went there—I saw Wheldon holding Regan by his coat collar—several people were there—this was outside the Angel at the corner of South and High Streets—Weldon said that Regan had attempted to rob him—I took Regan into custody, and having seen Quin
about with him before that, I told another constable to take Quin—he did so—they did not protest at all—on the Saturday after, the 17th, I apprehended Quail from information received from Wheldon—I placed him among six others at the police station, and without any hesitation the prosecutor picked him out—I had a description of him from Wheldon.
Cross-examined by Regan. I first saw you with the prosecutor before you got to Baker's Court—you did not go into the Fortune of War—I walked towards you when I saw you had hold of the prosecutor, knowing what sort you were and knowing the locality; you left go of him and followed him down to the Wallace Head and I followed you down—he went in there—when he came out you and the other man were at the corner of East and Blandford Streets, and you tried to persuade him to go down Blandford Street—I followed you towards High Street—I lost sight of you for a moment till I heard the prosecutor shouting police—I did not see you attempt to rob him; but I thought there was proof of it—another constable assisted me to take you to the station—another one was with the prosecutor, and another with Quin—there were 30 or 40 people there—I heard the prosecutor shouting police and murder; I charged him with being drunk next morning before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined by Quail. I did not see you at all in this man's company.
JAMES FAREY (Policeman D 64.) A little before 12 p.m. on 13th April I was in George Street, Marylebone, on duty—I saw the prosecutor come out of the Angel, rather intoxicated, and Regan following him—Regan caught hold of his coat collar and threw him down—Wheldon shouted murder and police—I ran across the road and pulled Regan off him—Barnes came up and took him in custody; Regan said nothing, but went with us—I saw nothing of Quin.
Cross-examined by Regan. I was the first constable who appeared on the scene—I saw you deliberately catch hold of Wheldon by the neck and throw him down—Wheldon was not shouting before you got hold of him.
RICHARD BONNER (Policeman D 310.) I arrested Quin in a public-house in South Street, close to the High Street, within 20 or 30 yards of the Angel, within about 10 minutes of the occurrence, after Regan's arrest—I called him outside the public-house, and said "I want you for being concerned with another man in attempting to rob a man named Wheldon"—he said "I know nothing about it, I have not seen the man"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by Quin. You did not ask me what it was for—I did not say "on suspicion"—you said you would go with me willingly.
MITCHENER (Policeman D 163.) On 13th April I was on duty in Marylebone Lane—I heard cries of "Police" and "Murder," and went towards the Angel, and saw Regan holding the prosecutor—they were struggling together, the prosecutor trying to get away—Barnes came up—Wheldon said "This man has robbed me of 50l. "—Barnes took Regan.
Regan in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said that the prosecutor had been to various public-houses with him and Quin, and had stood them drink; that he afterwards saw him surrounded by six or seven people saying that he had been robbed; that he went towards him, when he was given into custody.
Quin in his statement before the Magistrate said that he drank with the prosecutor in the four houses mentioned, and then saw no more of him till he was taken into custody.
QUIN and QUAIL— NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY**.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 28th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. AVORY Prosecuted; MESSRS. BESLEY and WARBURTON Defended.
HENRY ALFRED STACEY . I am Superintendent of Records in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the bankruptcy of Thomas Harding, furniture dealer, of 14, Norfolk Terrace, Bayswater—the petition was filed against him on 21st April, 1886, by Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner, the act of bankruptcy being the non-payment of a judgment debt of 61l. 13s. 5d.—he was adjudicated a bankrupt on that petition on 12th June—his statement of affairs filed on 28th May shows liabilities of 82l. 12s. 5d., and there is 4l. preferential claims—his total assets are 11l. 10s., of which 6l. is due for rates and taxes—the notes of his public and private examinations are on the file—his public examination was on 25th June, 1886.
Cross-examined. The date of the petition is 21st April—that refers to a judgment on 27th January, 1886—there is, I think, no other creditor proving in this bankruptcy except Saxelby and Faulkner—the receiving order was made in May, 1886, and the first meeting was held on 11th June, 1886, and the adjudication was on 12th June—the examinations were on 25th June, 6th July, and on 6th August the bankrupt passed his examination—Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner appeared as creditors only, at those meetings, not as solicitors to the receiver—at the private sitting they employed Counsel to cross-examine the bankrupt, to assist the official receiver to make a report—this is his report (produced)—this (produced) is the certificate of the official receiver of a clean bill of health as regards any misdemeanour on the part of Thomas Harding—private sittings were held on 6th November, 22nd November, 23rd November, and 4th December—a witness in bankruptcy is always paid his conduct money—on 21st December they got an order for prosecution—a barrister's opinion was taken by Saxelby and Faulkner. (This ordered that Thomas Harding be prosecuted under Sub-sections 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 of Section 11 of Debtors Act of 1869, and Sub-section 3 of Section 13, and that Frank Louis Harding be included in such prosecution for aiding and abetting him.) The public prosecutor has no discretion at all; as soon as the order is made he must carry on the prosecution, and whether it be a good or bad claim it is usual for him to allow the solicitor acting in the bankruptcy to
conduct the prosecution—there was some arrangement made about the costs—I was not present at any inquiry of Saxelby and Faulkner's cases at Lambeth Police-court—the bill of costs is not on the file; there is nothing on the file behind the judgment.
Re-examined. The opinion on the file is Mr. Grain's—the order of 21st December directing this prosecution, was made by the Registrar—he does not make it as a matter of course, because he reads Counsel's opinion, but as an officer of the Court—no one except the bankrupt had been examined prior to that report of the official receiver; he had no knowledge at that time of what the witnesses would prove.
GEORGE BLAGROVE SNELL . I am an official shorthand writer to the Bankruptcy Court—I took the shorthand notes of the bankrupt's private examination and the different witnesses—the transcript on the file is a correct transcript of those notes—the public examination on the file was taken down in long hand.
HENRY STEPHEN HANSLER . I am a barrister, and represented the ground lessee of 78, Buckingham Palace Road—in September, 1885, Mr. Stephen Belham was under lessee of those premises, and the prisoner was in occupation, carrying on the business of a furniture dealer, with his name up over the shop—I called at the premises on 11th of September, 1885, to serve a notice there; at that time the shop was stocked with furniture, and the business of a furniture dealer was being carried on, and on the 6th or 7th October I passed the premises again and the business was still going on, and on the 16th October I went again and found it closed—I had been authorised by Mr. Belham to collect the rent.
Cross-examined. I had nothing to do with admitting Harding senior as a tenant of 78, Buckingham Palace Road, he was Mr. Belham's tenant—I never saw him till I went to Norfolk Terrace—Mr. Belham owed me rent, and he gave me notices to serve on Mr. Harding to pay my rent as the superior landlord—the shop is not a manufactory, it is an open shop—I cannot say that I saw second-hand furniture spread about—I took no inventory—I had an idea of taking one, in the prospect of a possible distress—I am not proving in this bankruptcy—I nad nothing to do with Mr. Harding, Mr. Belham owed me the rent—I never saw Mr. Harding, I saw Mrs. Harding on the premises, and served her with the notice.
Re-examined. There is a fore-court in front of the shop, in which furniture is exposed.
STEPHEN BELHAM . I am a builder, of 155, Buckingham Palace Road—in March, 1885 I held an under-lease of 78, Buckingham Palace Road, and on 10th March, 1885, I entered into an agreement to let the premises to Thomas Harding; after which he earned on business there as a furniture dealer—when he entered the premises the furniture was left by the previous tenant, and he bought it of them, and paid something like 40l. to me for rent, and part of it was paid to her—after he went into occupation I passed his shop, night and morning as a rule; it was stocked with furniture—he carried on business there till 15th or 16th October, 1885—I authorised Mr. Hansler to collect the rent, and on the 15th or 16th I found the shop closed—I had had no notice that the defendant was going away—he owed rent at the time—I had no information from him as to where he had gone—on the 20th I went on the premises and
found only an old broken-down bedstead and a few mattresses left, worth about 5s.—in consequence of what I was told I ultimately went to 116, Norfolk Terrace, Bayswater, and found a shop there stocked with furniture, with the son's name over it—I saw Thomas Harding a few doors higher up, and he simply said it was his son's furniture and he had nothing himself—I had seen furniture being removed in his van, before 16th October, but I thought it was in the ordinary course of business—I have not got my rent yet.
Cross-examined. Miss Webber, a dressmaker, was tenant of 78, Buckingham Palace Road, before March, 1885; she let her house out furnished to gentlemen, and let the shop—I think she had it 15 to 16 years—she was two quarters' rent in arrear in March, 1885—second-hand dealing began when Harding came there—he bought the furniture of her simply that she should be able to pay her rent, it was not stock-in-trade; he paid me nearly 40l.—I never proved in the bankruptcy—that was rent owing to me by Miss Webber, not by Harding—he has not paid me any rent whatever, and I did not prove, because he had not anything, and the goods were his son's, and I did not want to fight the case—Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner found me at my office just before this case commenced, on 12th January, 1887—I appointed Mr. Hansler to collect the rent just after Harding took the premises—my interest in it has just expired—the Duke of Westminster is the ground landlord, and he is pulling the house down.
ROBERT TOLFREY . I am a coach-builder, of 47, Brompton Square—about August, 1885, the two defendants called on me and wanted to take my house, 116, Norfolk Terrace—Thomas Harding said he wanted it for his son, who he spoke very well of, and I took him as my tenant—he said his son had been managing a business for someone before that, and he was going to carry on the business of a furniture dealer—as the son was just entering into business, and was rather young to take it on his own responsibility, I demanded a guarantee that the father should pay the rent if his son failed, and he gave me this guarantee. (Undertaking to be responsible for the due payment of the rent in respect of the shop at 116, Norfolk Terrace.) This is the lease; it was executed, and the son entered into possession some time in October.
Cross-examined. I did not know the elder Harding before—I am not positive whether he said that his son had had experience in buying furniture at public sales.
STEPHEN BELHAM (Re-examined.) I cancelled this agreement and forgave the rent on consideration of Mr. Harding saying he had nothing—I did receive this 23l., but the other is owing—this is my signature to this paper, in which I say, "I forgive you the rent of the quarter ending Michaelmas."
By MR. AVORY. This is the letter which I received from Harding, in consequence of which I forgave him the rent. (This stated that he was unable to pay the rent, and that he would give up the keys if he was forgiven the rent) This is my letter. (This was signed S. Belham, and stated, "In reply to your letter, we hereby cancel the agreement and forgive you the rent, and take possession of the premises.")
THOMAS SCHOFIELD . I am one of the bailiffs of the Sheriff of Middlesex—on 16th October, 1886, I received this warrant to levy upon the goods at 116, Norfolk Terrace, upon a judgment of Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner—I went there with another officer named Holland the same
day, and saw Thomas Harding there—I had papers and receipts shown to me stating that the place belonged to Louis Harding, and I did not make the levy—when I saw Thomas Harding first he said that he had no goods there, only the few things in this small room—I should call it a small bedroom—I cannot swear to the younger Harding being there but I saw some one who represented the son, and who showed me the receipts for rent—I left then believing the goods belonged to Frederick Harding—there was a variety of very good furniture there—I took it at a rough guess that there was a good 500l. worth in the place—there was all sorts of furniture—I think there were some cabinets, I won't swear to that.
Cross-examined. The son showed me receipts and invoices for goods bought by him in his name—I could not say how many invoices were shown to me, and I cannot remember the names of the persons from whom the goods were purchased—I was in the shop three or four minutes, and I was in the back room for 10 or 15 minutes—the only observation I had of what was in the shop was as I walked into the back room and back again—I did not go to Mr. Pitt, the warrant was handed over to me from the Sheriff's office—I said to the Magistrate "I first said I thought the goods were worth about 500l. to Mr. Pitt at an office about a month ago"—that is quite right—what I stated was that when I got to our own office I made my report—I had seen Mr. Pitt, but not about this matter.
Re-examined. I also said "I think I had mentioned the 500l. to Mr. Strange about the time the levy was made"—I am sure I made the report that the goods were worth 500l.
Cross-examined. There were some iron bedsteads outside the shop—I did not sit down—when Schofield came out of the back room he walked out into the street and did not stop in the shop one second—he walked straight into the back room—when I got into the street I said to Mr. Schofield that I thought there was some very good property there—I said before the Magistrate that I did not know whether the vases were not tenpenny vases; they appeared to be Oriental, but they were in the window and I did not handle them.
JOHN WALTER VINCENT . I am an estate agent and auctioneer of 7, Dale Place, Maida Hill—I have known Thomas Harding over 20 years—about June, 1885, I had an auction sale of furniture at 54, Welbeck Street, Cavendish Square—Thomas Harding attended that sale and purchased a cabinet and a screen—I saw the screen in the October following at 116, Norfolk Terrace, Bayswater, and said to Harding, "You have not got rid of the screen yet," and he replied that he could not get his price for it—I knew he had been in business in Buckingham Palace Road, and when we had the conversation about the screen he said he had arranged with the landlord to cancel his rent, and he was coming with the agreement in the evening, and would I look it over with him—I said I would look in on my way from my office—I remarked about his getting rid of the liability of the rent and said, "How did you get your goods away?"—he said, "Oh, I have left enough there to pay the quarter's rent"—I said it was a very stupid thing to move the goods—I witnesed the
agreement by which he gave up the agreement and got a discharge from the rent—in October Harding showed me Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner's account, and complained of the charges being much too high, he quoted two or three items—I said, "You can have it taxed"—he said he should not pay them a 6d.—I asked him if he was in debt at all—he said, "No"—I said, "You will have to settle it, you will have to square it"—when I was looking at the paper she said, "Oh, there is another d—paper come in," and sent his wife for it—I said, "When did you get this?" and he told me—I said, "You had better attend to it at once or you will have judgment against you," and told him to go to a solicitor at once, and have the bill taxed, and settle it in the best way he could—he said, "I have got no d—solicitor; will you recommend me to your man?"—I took out my pocket book and was going to write down the name and address of my solicitor, but I never mentioned his name, and Mrs. Harding said, "Go down with him, Vincent, you know what a fool Harding is"—I then called a cab and we went down—I had to pass his doors night and morning, and he was always speaking to me about this business—his son's name, Frederick Harding, was over the shop, and when I told him he would have to settle it I said, "How are you going to get out of it?"—he said, "Frederick will claim the goods"—I pooh poohed that—I passed his shop daily after that, and Thomas Harding was always there—the son afterwards told me that the Sheriff had been in, and he had very soon got rid of him—I asked how he managed it, and he said he showed him some papers that the lease was in his name and some invoices in his name, and that satisfied him, and he went out—I said he was easily satisfied then, and I forget the observation he made—I cannot tell you whether it was after or before the Sheriff had been in, but I noticed large quantities of furniture had been removed, and I said to the defendants, "You have had a skin-out here," and I think Frederick said, "We have not sold much"—I said, "What have you done with it?"—he said it had gone to Moore's, where his father was staying for a little while—his three brothers-in-law have got shops in the same road—I think the Sheriff must have been in then, because I said, "What do you want to move it for if it is yours?" and Frederick said it was better to be on the safe side—sometime in May, before I went down to the lawyer's with him, I said, "You have got about 300l. worth here"—he said, "You would like to have it for 300l.," meaning that in his estimation it was worth more, but I put it down at 300l.—about that time I heard of the bankruptcy proceedings—he showed me the notes in bankruptcy and asked me what he should do—I said it was nothing more than I expected, and told him frankly it would never do putting his son forward like that—he said the son was not such a fool as he looked—I told both them and his wife that he would not stand crossexamining five minutes, and that was what made him say he was not such a fool as he looked—that was on the evening of 5th May, and I said to the father "Let me put a few questions to him"—he said "If you like," and called him from the front door—I said "You say this furniture is all yours?"—he said "Yes"—I said "Where did you get it from?"—he said "I bought it at different sales"—I said "Where did you get the money from?"—he said "I saved it out of my wages"—I said "What were your wages?"—he said "5s. a week and my board and lodging"—I said "Well, if you had saved up your wages from the day
you were born you would not have had enough to buy this furniture"—he said "If you are going to put these questions to me I shall turn it up," and walked away to the front of the shop—in October, 1886, there was a bill up at 116, Norfolk Street that the shop was to let, and I asked Thomas Harding if he really meant to let the premises, was it genuine?—he said "Let, yes"—I said "You might have put it in my hands"—he said "We will put it in your hands if you like to come and have a drink," and he said if I could sell it with the fixtures for 100l. he would give me 10l. commission, but it must be done in his son's name—in November I was subpœnaed to attend the Bankruptcy Court, and I went round to their shop the next morning, and told the son to tell his father to come and see me directly, as I had got a subpœn—he came round, and I told him I had got a subpœna to attend at the Bankruptcy Court—he said "What did they give you with your subpœna?"—I said "10s. "—he said "I cannot think what the devil they want with you"—my brother, who was with me, said "Come out and have a drink and talk it over"—we went to the Crown public-house and had a conversation about it, and he said he would go to a good solicitor in Lincoln's Inn Fields, who he had been recommended to—I said "The only thing you will have to satisfy them about is that the furniture is Fred's; where is he going to say he got the money?" and he said that he was going to say that his sister had lent him the money—my brother, William Vincent, was present then, and also when I cross-examined the son, and directly after that I went down to Saxelby and Faulkner's office.
Cross-examined. When I was cross-examined on the first occasion I said that there had been no charge of swindling brought against me, and I say so now—I was in Holloway Prison nine months under an attachment by order of the Court of Chancery; that was for not paying a balance into Court of a sale, which I had offered to the solicitors—I said "I bought some furniture at King Henry's Road, and agreed to pay 300l. for it, and paid every farthing"—that, was subject to about 120l. deductions—I have got the receipt with me from the lady who sold the furniture—I was sent to Holloway Prison 10 years ago for not paying 60l., and I have many judgments against me—I may have sworn on cross-examination that I did not remember any judgment against me in 1886, but I was proceeded against in the County Court for 8l. or 10l.; I did not pay it—I have been twice in Holloway Prison, I think—I said that I had accounted to the owner of the goods in Welbeck Street for all the proceeds of the sale there, and I have brought all the papers in my bag—when I was cross-examined I said I had a client in 1885, Mrs. Wilson in Princess Square, who sent me furniture for sale, which I sold for 100l., and paid her all the money; I did so, or paid it away at her request—I repeat that statement now, and I have an I O U for money due to me—in 1885 a young man named Bell entered into partnership with me and invested money in the business; I will not swear it was not 240l.—I cannot say how long he remained with me—I gave him on leaving a promissory note for 200l., to be paid off at 2l. a week—I said "The draft was dishonoured, and Bell sued me and got judgment"—that is a mistake; it was 60l. he sued for—the judgment was for 62l. 14s. 5d., he had had over 50l.—he has never been paid that—in May, 1885, a Mr. Smith joined me in partnership; he was about my own age; he paid in 150l. and opened an account in his own name with 500l.—he
received and paid all moneys—he was in partnership with me about a month—he asked me to let him go because he wanted to buy a large concern in the country, and I said "The only difficulty is about the money, it is out on mortgage," and he said "Never mind about the capital, I will leave it in the business; you give me a promissory note for the amount of the capital and I will leave it in your hands"—that was about 500l. or 600l.—I said before the Magistrate "He was with me about a month when he left—I returned his money in three bills; I don't know for how much—all those bills were dishonoured; they were sued upon and judgment obtained"—that is quite right; he does not complain—I have not paid him yet, he is perfectly willing to wait; I shall pay him and everybody else—I don't think any execution was put in upon that—he left me in June, 1885—I think the bills were drawn at three, four, and six months, but there was a private understanding—I was sued when the first bill became due, and I defended it—it was understood that these bills were not to be presented until the moneys were received in from the firm, and I don't think the Sheriff was ever put in at all—I have sworn "The Sheriff never got a farthing; Smith never got anything from the judgment," that is true—in August, 1885, I had a sale at Mrs. Campbell's, 18, Colville Terrace, Bayswater—I cannot tell you how much I got of the proceeds—I gave her more than 30l.—I settled up the accounts with her solicitor immediately after the sale—she did not have to sue me for the balance—there was a bill of sale on the furniture for a certain term—the solicitors brought an action against me for selling under the bill of sale before the time expired—the bill of sale is dated 17th July, 1885—the settlement of the account closed Mrs. Campbell's connection with me—I cashed a draft for 400l. for her—she gave me an open cheque for 200l., and I gave her a cheque and settled up the balance—I have had no partners except Bell, and Smith—I have not been solvent within the last three years; I have been in difficulties for many years, and have had great trouble and domestic affliction—I cannot remember whether I used the expression at the police court about being skinned out; I will not swear I did—I said before the Magistrate that there was a kind of rehearsal and cross-examination—I did not say one half or quarter of what I might have said—the screen was bought by the daughter—I probably did not say until to-day about Mrs. Harding saying "You know what a fool he is, go down with him"—I was paid 10s. on my subpœna at the Bankruptcy Court, and a guinea for loss of time—under 3l. has come into my pocket—there were five attendances at the police court—I did not go to Mr. Pitt until after I was examined at the police-court; I went there on May 1 to try and settle it—I cannot give you the date when I gave my statement to Mr. Pitt—we had more than one interview—he wrote to me every day trying to settle the account.
Re-examined. Before they made him a bankrupt I went to Saxelby and Faulkner and tried to settle it; at his wife's request he offered them 20l. and a bill for 20l., but they would not take the bill—I said, "You and Mrs. Harding go down; you may get a 5l. note off," and they went—I afterwards met him, and asked him if he had settled it, and he said he had been speaking to Williams of the Grove about it, and he would be a d—d fool if he paid him 6d.—this (produced) is my catalogue, showing the sale of the screen; it is in my son's writing—I think I explained at
the police court that the amount was to be paid by instalments, and that I had paid some instalments—I have had no consideration for giving evidence against these men, beyond the 3l. I have had for attending at the Courts.
WILLIAM VINCENT . I am a bootmaker, of 18, Brabington Road, St. Peter's Park, Paddington—I have known Thomas Harding for about 25 years—I am the brother of the last witness; he and I were once passing the defendant's shop; he drew my attention to some furniture that was missing; Thomas Harding was present, and my brother said that he had been doing some business—he replied that although there had been some sales there was not much money coming in for it—I always understood by the billheads that the furniture was Frederick Harding's—I was present when my brother asked Frederick some questions—my brother was reading the paper with his glasses, and they said that he looked like a Judge—he said "I don't know how Frederick would stand a private examination; let me put him through his facings"—Frederick was then coming in from the end of the shop, and he asked him how he got the money to buy this furniture—he said he had saved it up—my brother asked him how much a week he had—he said "5s. "—my brother said that would not hold water; the idea of his saving enough money to buy 300l. worth of furniture—he said "If you crossexamine me like that I shall turn it up"—I knew my brother was summoned to the Bankruptcy Court, and on the following day Thomas Harding came into my office, and said on that occasion that the money was borrowed from the sisters.
Cross-examined. I know about seven or eight of the Harding family; three of them are married, and two of the daughters' husbands have shops in Norfolk Terrace—Frederick Harding's name was up over the shop, and on the billheads—I have not been on friendly terms with my brother for some time past—I was never on intimate terms with Harding, senior, until I purchased a table of him on 1st May; I had never crossed his threshold before that—I did not use the expression at the police court about my brother saying, "Let me put him through his facings," because I was never asked the question—I do not interfere in my brother's private affairs; I only knew of his being at Holloway once—Mr. Pitt came to my office and asked for Mr. Vincent, and I being Mr. Vincent, I answered to the name, and he began talking about Saxelby and Faulkner, of whom I was totally ignorant—my brother was sitting at a desk in the same office—I was a bootmaker, but I have got out of that and got into this office—I had a guinea with my subpœna, and I have since seen Mr. Pitt from time to time—before I went to the Bankruptcy Court Mr. Pitt took down my statement in writing—I considered this about putting him through his facings was a farce—I have not had any business transactions with my brother, or lent him any money for 20 years.
WILLIAM HENRY PITT . I am clerk to Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner, solicitors, of Ironmonger Lane—on 22nd October, 1885, I went to 78, Buckingham Palace Road to serve a writ in this case on Thomas Harding, and found he had gone—the writ was issued on the 22nd—I went there the same night—the place was closed, and I saw the landlord—on the 23rd I went to 116, Norfolk Terrace, and saw Thomas Harding standing at the door—I asked for his father, and was directed to the back of
the shop, where I saw the elder defendant—I said, "I have come to see you about Messrs. Saxelby and Faulkner's account"—he said, "I shall not pay them a b—sixpence"—I said, "I am ashamed to hear you make that remark, that remains to be seen;" served him with the writ, and came away—we then proceeded with the action—it was referred to one of the Masters, and this is his award—we signed judgment for 61l. including the costs—afterwards, finding that nothing was realised, we took proceedings in bankruptcy, and on April 21st we presented a petition—a summons in bankruptcy had been served on him.
Cross-examined. He was introduced by a client of the firm in the litigation of Sir John Kelk—Mr. Long, our conveyancing clerk, saw him first—he is not here—the requisition was on 17th January, 1885, by Sir John Kelk against him and Alexander, and from that time my firm communicated with Thomas Harding—Sir John Kelk was not allowed to get costs when it was clear that the covenant had been broken, because we were advised that the action should go on, and we should get the best terms we could—a distinct covenant was made with Alexander by Sir John Kelk prohibiting his letting the premises, 178, Buckingham Palace Road, as a furniture shop—your client has got the bill of costs—I cannot give you any further information—the delay was caused in consequence of his owing rent, and we got him off the rent—that action was against Alexander for breach of covenant, coupling him with Harding—Alexander has, I believe, received 5l. from Harding for the lease and fixtures—the action for damages for letting the premises without disclosing the covenant was not commenced till the other was settled on February 6th, 1885—the delay was caused by Harding not being able to get a place to go to, and Sir John Kelk kindly extended the term—Harding went from 111 to 78—Alexander had let judgment go by default long before that—that action had nothing to do with Sir John Kelk; it was to get damages out of Alexander; it went on from February 6th to July 15th—we did not in that interval advise him to sell the furniture that had been moved and exaggerate the damages claimed by Alexander—we had not agreed to conduct the litigation for costs out of pocket—the damages against Alexander amounted to about 600l., and beyond that there were other claims for loss of business and inconvenience caused by the plaintiff being obliged to remove to other premises, for which he was unable to estimate his loss—Mr. Harding never remonstrated with us about such a monstrous amount; that I solemnly swear—we discovered at the end of six months that the action was unfounded altogether—Harding said he had never signed any agreement—I said, "If you have, it does not occur to me that you have got any case at all"—when we got the documents I made a copy of this one. (Dated May 8th, 1885, and signed T. Harding, agreeing to take the premises, &c., "the consent of the superior landlord to be obtained.") I wrote to Alexander's solicitor, Mr. Anderson, asking if there had been a preliminary agreement, and also to Messrs. Carr, whose answer was: "We understand the agreement was a verbal one"—I sent for Harding to my office, and he swore with an oath that the document I showed him was not his writing—I said "I am very much surprised to hear you make such a statement"—he said "It is not my document; I never signed such a document"—I made him sit down and sign his name, and I at once identified the signature, and told him so, but he still maintained that it was not his writing—he wanted to go to
the other side, but I said "Your case is already bad enough; I do not think it is wise to go there, it will be showing too much of the white feather; you had better go home and talk it over with your wife;" because I believed he knew it was his signature—I have never shown this document to him for the reason I have given you—the taxed costs in Kelk's action was the foundation for the Bankruptcy proceedings; the amount was made up of our charges and the other charges, and some other charges in respect to the lease—I have not acted in the bankruptcy summons and everything; I manage the common law department under the supervision of my principals, but I do not advise clients—I suppose our charges will be made against the Treasury as their agents; there is not much profit—before we got the order to prosecute we had expended quite as much money as our bill of costs amounted to—that was not because they were so annoyed that he had not paid their bill of costs,—we are not acting for any other creditor.
Re-examined. Before taking any steps I asked the defendant on several occasions whether he had signed any preliminary agreement because I saw the importance of it, and I wrote to ask him to bring any preliminary agreement; after I had discovered that document of May 5th he wrote me this letter (produced) with a long explanation of how he came to sign it; it is Winstanley's writing, but signed by Harding—I have seen him sign his name, and to the best of my belief this is his signature. (This stated: "I hereby authorize you to settle the matter in the best way you can for my interest. T. Harding ")—that was accompanied by a letter from Winstanley referring to the agreement—they came in the same envelope—the consent of the ground landlord had to be obtained—I have the Counsel's opinion here, he had this before him—at that time Alexander had a claim against him for 75l. for rent—I settled the action and induced Alexander to withdraw his claim for rent, and we withdrew our counter claim—the defendant and his son settled the particulars, which it is suggested we have invented or grossly exaggerated—I saw the younger defendant, and handed them to him, and he took them home to his father, and Mr. Winstanley assisted us—it was on his instructions alone.
J.C. AUSTIN. I am attached to the Official Receiver's Department in bankruptcy—on 21st May I took down a statement made to me in the Official Receiver's presence. (This was put in and read.)
Cross-examined. That is the only statement I took—they are the printed Statutory questions, and he signs the answers to them. (The defendant's private examination in bankruptcy in November, 1886, was here put in but not read.)
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT.—Friday, April 29th, and Saturday, April 30th, 1887.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
between 7 and 8 p.m., there was a knock at the door, and before I could get to it the handle was turned and the prisoner came in—I knew him by sight about the neighbourhood—he said "Does the German tailor live here?"—I said "No"—he looked round the room, closed the door, and went away—I opened the door again three or four minutes afterwards, and he was standing on the landing—I asked him what he wanted—he said "The German tailor"—I told him he did not live there, and he left—I saw him on the next Monday with about a dozen other men at the police-court, and picked him out.
Cross-examined. The gas was alight in the passage—a good many people live there, and some of them sleep there—there are a good many callers during the day.
GEORGINA NORTON . I am a dressmaker, and occupy three rooms at Poland Street—I closed them myself on Saturday night, 1st April, and fastened the door—I sleep elsewhere—between 11 and 12 o'clock on Sunday morning I had a telegram, and went to Marlborough Street Police-station, where I saw these articles (produced), which I had left safe in my room—this cloak is worth 8 guineas, and this fur cloak 25 guineas—it was entrusted to me for alteration—I found the door into my rooms broken open.
VOLTIMAR COOMER . I am a trousers-maker, and live and sleep on the top floor at 54, Poland Street—I am not a German tailor—on Sunday morning, 3rd April, I went home about a quarter to 1, and found the street door open, which was not usual—when I got inside my foot struck against somebody apparently lying on the floor, but not near Mrs. Norton's room—I rushed upstairs and locked myself in.
Cross-examined. I cannot say what it was, as it was dark; it was not a cat—there is a light in the passage, but not after 11 o'clock.
HENRY CLARK (Policeman C 95.) On Sunday morning, 3rd April, about 2 o'clock, I met the prisoner in Carlisle Street, Soho, with a bundle—I said "What have you there?"—he said "Goods I have been selling in Tichfield Market with my mother on a barrow"—I said "Where are you going to take them now?"—he said "To 21. Wild Street, Drury Lane, where I live"—I let him go on, and followed him—he did not go to 21, Wild Street, but to 12, Hanover Street, Long Acre, a common lodging-house—he put the bundle down outside the door and rushed in—he knew I was following him—I knocked at the door; the deputy landlord opened it—I said "Where is the man who has just come in?"—he said "There he is," and the prisoner rushed past me into Hanover Court—I followed him and caught him, and told him I should take him in custody for being in unlawful possession of goods—he pretended to be drunk, and said "I never kicked him"—I took the bundle to Bow Street—these are the contents—I did not go to 21, Wild Street.
Cross-examined. He fell about and acted in a silly way—he acted all right before, and he ran out of the lodging-house—I caught him about 30 yards off—it was dark—a card and a paper were found on him.
Re-examined. The deputy pointed to him, and he ran out—I am sure the man who ran out was the man I caught.
Cross-examined. There were plenty of lamps—I followed him some distance—Carlisle Street is about 300 or 400 yards from Poland Street.
ALFRED GANSDORF . I am 14 years old, and live upstairs at 54, Poland Street—on Sunday morning, 3rd April, I got up at 8.30, and noticed Mrs. Norton's door open—I informed the neighbours and went for a policeman.
ALFRED WINKLER (Police Inspector C.) On 3rd April, about nine a.m., I received information, went to 54, Poland Street, and found the first floor door broken open, evidently by pressure from outside; the heads of the screws which held the lock were broken off and the lock was lying on the ground—I communicated with Mrs. Norton, who came to the station and identified the property—I charged the prisoner—he said, "I know nothing of it; I was at home with a pal of mine; we were just going out and the constable came and took me."
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that he had had too much drink and fell off the step of the lodging house, and the policeman took him for stealing the bundle which he held.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. FOSTER Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended.
HARRY TUCKER . I am a master carman of 292, Manchester Road, Poplar—on the 16th of March, at six p.m., I was passing the Manchester Arms, and saw the prisoner at the door of his newspaper shop exactly opposite, smoking a cigar—I have known him perfectly well for five years—he shouted out to me, but I took no notice and walked on—he shouted again, I still walked on, and he shouted again very loudly—I turned round, and seeing no one else there said, "Do you mean me, Mr. Allen?"—he said, "Yes, you b—old s—, I do"—I walked across the road and asked him why he used such disgusting language towards me—he said, "Because you are a b—old scoundrel, and I mean to settle you"—I asked him why, and said that I had nothing to do with his business in any way, and I could have him locked up for threatening my life—he said that he meant to settle me and make a hole through me—I said, "If you have anything against me why don't you come out in the road and fight me like a man, and not shoot me like a dog"—he said, "You are a b—old dog, and I mean to make a hole through you"—I said, "I am not afraid of you or your pea shooter either"—he had the weapon under the tails of his coat on the right side—he drew it up very quickly, and pointed it at my head—I raised my right arm to save my head, he fired, and the bullet hit me in my fore arm—there are two steps to the house, and I was standing with one leg on the steps—I grappled at the pistol with my right hand—he snatched it away from me and held it in an upward position and put it right into my neck on the left side, and fired, saying, "Take that, you b—old dog"—I became confused, and when I came to my senses I was in Dr. Eating's shop, and when my coat was taken off I heard something fall—I went from there to the London Hospital, and remained there a fortnight—the prisoner appeared very excited.
Cross-examined. I did not say at the police-court that he was mad drunk; he was drunk, or it would not have happened—I am able to get
about now—it is about 50 yards from the prisoner's house to mine on the same side—I never heard that he bears a character for mental weakness—I have never had any quarrel with him—we were always on good terms, and I don't think I had seen him that day.
SAMUEL MILTON . I live at 1, Strattondale Street, Cubitt's Town, and am a labourer—on the 16th of March, about six p.m., I was coming along the Manchester Road, and saw the prisoner and Tucker having some words, the prisoner was using bad language—Tucker said that he ought to be ashamed of himself and he could lock him up; they had a few more words—Tucker said he did not care for him or his pea shooter, and the prisoner fired at him—Tucker rushed to stop him from firing again, but he fired, and Tucker fell on his side on the steps—Day and I picked him up and took him to Mr. Eaking's shop, but he would go indoors first, to his own house—when he took off his coat in the doctor's shop a bullet dropped down, which I picked up and gave to Mr. Tucker and afterwards to the constable—the prisoner was very drunk—I was nine or 10 feet from him.
SAMUEL EAKING , M.D. I live at 451, Manchester Road—on the 16th of March, about six p.m., Tucker was brought to my surgery bleeding from his neck—he removed his overcoat and a bullet fell from under the back of the collar on to the floor—he had a round wound on the front of his neck on the left side, a little below the left angle of the jaw, with jagged edges and blackened, and another wound on the back of his neck on the left side corresponding with it; I probed the back wound only—I saw there was no immediate danger and sent him to the hospital—his shirt collar was cut and saturated with blood in the region of the wound—it was a gunshot wound, and there was also a graze about an inch long on his wrist.
GEORGE CORNELIUS WILLIAM WRIGHT . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—on 16th March Tucker was brought there; I found one wound in front below the angle of his jaw, and another at the back close to the spine—I probed them, and the probes met in the centre—I found that the wound was continuous, and that something had passed right through—there was a hole in the shirt corresponding, and another wound on his wrist—his coat, waistcoat, and jersey all corresponded with the wound—in my opinion it was caused by a pistol bullet—the wound on the neck was very dangerous; it passed in below the angle of the jaw right through the muscles of the neck, and came out at the spine behind; it passed in front of the carotid artery; it went close to the spine—if it had touched the artery or the spine it would have caused instantaneous death—the pistol must have been held close to him—there must have been considerable momentum on the ball.
Cross-examined. The back wound is quite healed; the front wound is still open—he was under my care for a fortnight, and I should have liked to keep him longer, but he wanted to go home.
HENRY WOOLEY (Police Inspector K.) I went to Dr. Eaking's, and saw Tucker there—in consequence of what he said I went to the prisoner's shop, and found him standing on the door step with this revolver in his hand—I could see him 100 yards off, and I was advised to be very cautious how I approached him—I got within 10 yards of him and shouted, "Get away from the man, let the man alone," which drew his attention from me while I rushed on him—he brought the revolver up,
and I seized it with my left hand, and struck him with my truncheon across the temple, and knocked him down—I then got a constable to strike him twice across the shoulders before he would let go the revolver—I then got it from him and examined it at the station—it contained three unexploded cartridges and two exploded cases—he was charged, and said "I only meant to injure old Tucker, and you can hit me on the head like this"—he appeared to be recovering from a very bad drink; he was decidedly not sober, and I knew previously that he was under the influence of drink, as he had been to the station and complained two or three hours before.
By the COURT. I have known him two years, and have seen him under the influence of drink before, and he would go and pick a quarrel, but when he is sober he keeps himself to himself, and if you speak to him he will not condescend to answer—when he is sober he is quiet, but when he is in liquor he is very fearful.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN BLAKELOW . I am the prisoner's son-in-law—like a good many men he takes a drop of drink at times, but sometimes he would go four months or six months without drink—when he is in drink he is very excited—he was hit on the head accidentally with a 14-lb. sledge hammer some-time ago when he was working on the slabs, and since that he has been more or less affected—when he takes drink he is very excited—I have had to sit up with him night and day.
ANGUS WALDO . I am the defendant's step son—he received an injury on his head 25 years ago, and since that when he takes drink he gets in such an excited state that he does not know what he does—I have had to sit up with him night and day—he was never bad enough to be put under control.
By the COURT. I knew there was a revolver in the house—it was not in the room where he was when I sat up with him, but I have seen it there—this is it.
GUILTY on the Second Count.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
567. SEPTIMUS SAUNDERS and ELLEN ELDON , Unlawfully conspiring to use means to procure the miscarriage of Alice McNulty. Other Counts charging them with unlawfully soliciting Alice McNulty to use the same means.
MESSRS. GOODRICH and BODKIN Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY appeared for Saunders, and Mr. GEOGHEGAN for Eldon.
The prisoners received good characters.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months each without Hard Labour.
For Cases tried in Old Court on Friday and Saturday see Surrey Cases.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, April 29th, 1887.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
of Easter Monday, 11th April, I was going home from the Admiral public-house, a little before eleven o'clock—I reached my doorway, and put my hand into my pocket for my latch key, when I was taken by the arms from the back by two men, one at each arm—the one on the left-hand side took my watch, and I heard clippers or a knife breaking the chain—they took my silver watch and part of my gold chain, value together 5 guineas—I went down as they let go of my arms—this is the other part of the chain—I had had a little drop to drink, but knew what I was about—I had my senses about me.
JOHN FRANCIS MOORE . I am a page boy at the Hotel Metropole, living at 43, Richmond Street, in the neighbourhood of Huntsworth Terrace—a few minutes before 11 p.m. on 11th April I was outside the Admiral, and I saw Pedder cross the road and speak to Denmead and another young man, and they all three went down Carlyle Street, on the left-hand side, following Mr. Honey, who was going towards Huntsworth Terrace—I was on the right-hand side—Mr. Honey went down Carlyle Street a little past Huntsworth Terrace, and I went past, and I was standing at the corner about 50 yards from Huntsworth Terrace, when he and the three prisoners all passed me, Mr. Honey having gone down Carlyle Terrace and come back—I saw them follow him down Huntsworth Terrace on the left-hand side (I was also on that side)—Mr. Honey got to his door, and put his hand in his pocket—Pedder ran up to him on the left-hand side, and Denmead on his right—I saw them both catch hold of his wrists—Pedder snatched his watch away, and then they seemed to pull him backwards, and put their feet behind him, and they threw him down on his head in the gutter—Pedder ran towards me up to Carlyle Street, and Denmead ran the other way down to Salisbury Street, I think, and I saw no more of him that night—as Pedder ran past me I tried to catch him, but could not stop him—as he ran down Carlyle Street he put something up his left-hand sleeve—I saw Constable D 177 in Carlyle Street, just past Princess Street, down which Pedder turned—he could have seen the constable—I shouted to the constable "Stop that man, he has got a watch"—Pedder turned round to me, and said "Go away, go away"—as soon as I shouted the constable ran—Pedder slipped down in Princess Street, but he ran to the bottom of the street, and then down Salisbury Street and Orcus Street, where he was caught—I did not see him caught—they were faster than me, and several yards in front of me—it is a very dark street—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man I saw.
By the JURY. I watched them because I thought their motions were very suspicious—I live close by and and was going home.
Cross-examined by Pedder. I mentioned nothing about the prisoners putting out their legs at the police-court—I was not asked how they threw him down.
HENRY BEAL (Policeman D 177.) A little before 11 on this night I was on duty in Carlyle Street—I saw Pedder running towards me and Moore after him—Moore shouted to me, "Here, policeman, this man has got a watch"—I gave my lamp to someone to hold and ran 400 or 500 yards and caught him in Orcus Street—I did not once loose sight of him—he said, "What is this for?"—I said, "I shall take you back on suspicion of stealing a watch and chain"—that was all he said—I found nothing but a knife on him.
JOHN FRANCIS MOORE (Re-examined.) On 15th April I was called to the police-court when Demnead was in custody—I then picked him out from among 12 men in a room there—I have no doubt at all he is the man who ran away in a different direction to that taken by Pedder—I was dressed as I am now.
Witnesses for defence of Pedder.
WALTER DUCKETT . I carry out coals—I live at 15, Huntsworth Terrace—on Easter Monday I and my young brother and another chap were standing outside 23, Huntsworth Terrace about 11 o'clock, when I saw Mr. Honey going home; he was drunk—while he was at his door taking out his key two men came across the road and pulled him out and threw him down—the two men had beards—I stopped there and did not go to his assistance for about five minutes because we did not know what was the matter—then I went over to him, he was lying there all the time; we asked him what was the matter; he said he had lost part of his Albert and watch—the two men ran away in different directions; I did not know them.
Cross-examined. I saw Pedder taken into custody at the corner of Huntsworth Terrace as I was going home; that was the first time I saw him that night—I don't remember Pedder asking me to come to the police-station next day; I did not go there—I knew he was in custody and what he was charged with, and that he would appear at the police-station next morning—I was in Court on 12th April—I did not see the men knock the prosecutor's legs away from under him—I saw them catch hold of his arms and knock him down and snatch his watch and run away—one man ran down Carlyle Street and the other down Salisbury Street—we were standing at 23, Huntsworth Terrace, there are about three lamps in the terrace—I had not seen Pedder or the other man before—I saw no third man there.
By the COURT. I did not say at the police-court, "I saw three men come round the corner"—this is my signature to the deposition, it was read over to me before I signed it; I said two, not three—I did not see Moore there—I do not know Denmead.
Re-examined by the Prisoner. When I saw you in Huntsworth Terrace with the policeman I did not hear anybody in the crowd say you were not the man who committed the robbery.
By MR. BODKIN. On the way to the station Duckett said he saw it, and Pedder asked him at once if he would come to the station in the morning, and he said yes—Pedder said, "What is your name?"—he said Duckett—Duckett said he saw it all done and would be at the Court as witness in the morning.
Witness for the defence of Denmead.
PHYLLIS KEZIAH CHRISTOPHER . I live at 28, Paul Street, Edgware Road, and get my living by photograph painting for Mr. Ryan, of 1, Edgware Road—on Easter Monday night you came to my father's place, 21, Paul Street, at 11.10, and left at 1.15.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that when I was wishing him good-night at 1.15 I saw some people running towards Huntsworth
Terrace, and I told Denmead not to go there because I did not want him to get into the row—the row was not near our house—Huntsworth Terrace is two streets from 21, Paul Street, a very short distance—I looked at the clock when he came in and am sure it was 11.10—the clock is right because father goes to work by it—he came in the usual way—he is a friend of my father's; he knocked at the door—he was not out of breath—I did not see the prosecutor.
Pedder in his defence stated that he was knocking at a door in Orcus Street when the policeman came and apprehended him, and that just previously he had seen a man run past. Denmead said he had not seen Pedder that day; that he came home at 11 and went to see Christopher and then went home.
HENRY BEAL (Re-examined by the COURT.) When I took Pedder back to the prosecutor he said he could not identify him, he was silly—I took Pedder on the boy's evidence—Moore never spoke to me going to the station; as we were going to the station, Denmead tried to pull Honey away, I struck at him but missed him—that was in Earl Street, Salisbury Street—Denmead tried to prevent Honey going to the station—I saw no more of Denmead till three days afterwards—I had no assistance—I saw Denmead from ten to fifteen minutes after I arrested Pedder.
By Denmead. I was not examined as to you at the Court below; I gave my evidence three days before you were arrested.
By the JURY. Pedder was running when I caught him; as I tapped him on the shoulder he turned round and fell on a very low window sill—I did not lose sight of him—I saw no other persons when I was pursuing him from the bottom of Earl Street till I got to the bottom of Salisbury Street, no one standing still or running—there was no crowd where I took up the chase—there was no one within fifty yards of where I caught him except three women standing, they made no observation.
By the COURT. When I got back with Pedder there was a crowd, they said nothing about him.
GUILTY . Pedder then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in October, 1882, in the name of James Maloney , and Denmead** to one in January, 1885, at this Court. PEDDER— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. DENMEAD— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
The JURY commended the conduct of Moore, and the COURT awarded him 2l.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; MR. METCALFE Defended.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, April 30th, 1887.
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
MR. AVORY Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
GUILTY — Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and ARTHUR GILL Defended.
CATHERINE FINCH . On 4th March, about midnight, I met the prisoner in Canning Lane, and went with him to 10, Eagle Street, where Mrs. Curzon lives—he gave me 2s. there, after staying with me some time—after that he wanted to stop all night, and because he was not allowed to do so he wanted the 2s. back—I spoke to Mrs. Curzon about it, and he went away, wishing us both good night.
Cross-examined. I did not go out of the room and leave him; he went with me into the kitchen—I have not been convicted or imprisoned—I was not present when the shooting occurred.
MARY ANN CURZON . I live at 10, Eagle Street, Canning Town—on 4th March the prisoner came there with Finch—he had a dispute with her about 2s., and I was spoken to about it—the prisoner then went away, and I went to bed with my husband—about an hour afterwards a knock came to the door, and the prisoner came into our room with a revolver in his hand—he held it over the bedstead, and said to my husband "If you dare move I will blow your brains out"—I got up and said if he did not go out I would send for a policeman, and I pushed him out into the passage—he said "I will do for the lot of you"—I said "If you want Finch go and look for her"—he then fired at me, and I was struck in the face.
Cross-examined. Finch was in the kitchen when he left, and he wished us both good night—when he came into my bedroom he said he wanted Irish Kate—he did not say anything about the 2s.—he was about a yard and a half from me when the pistol went off—there has been no complaint of people being robbed in my house.
LOUISA SHEPHERD . I am servant to Mrs. Curzon—on 4th March the prisoner and Finch came to the house—I was there when the prisoner left—some time afterwards there was a knock at the door; I opened it, and the prisoner was there—he asked for Irish Kate—I said "She is not in, you had better go and look for her"—Isabella Ellis was there, and said the same—I tried to shut the door, but he put his foot in, and said "If you don't let me in I will shoot your brains out"—I went into the front room, where Mr. and Mrs. Curzon were, and the prisoner followed me in, and said if anybody dared to move he would shoot their brains out—Mrs. Curzon got up and shoved him out of the room—I went to the front room door, and he pointed the revolver straight at Mrs. Curzon and let it off—he was about a yard and a half from her—there was no one behind him, or any one near enough to touch him—after it went off he tried to open the street door, and Mr. Curzon rushed out and hit him with the fire-shovel—I did not hear any more.
Cross-examined. When he was hit with the shovel he dropped the revolver.
she had gone out, and he had better go and look for her—with that Shepherd tried to close the door—the prisoner put his foot against it—I went to close it; he pushed us, and drove us into the passage, and said "I have come to settle you all, I have got something here that will settle you all"—Shepherd ran into the front room and I into the back—I then noticed the revolver in the prisoner's hand—he followed me into the back room, and said "I want my 2s. "—I said "I have not got your 2s. "—he said "I will have it from somebody or somewhere, I don't care where it comes from, if you move I will blow your brains out, I will settle you"—he then heard a noise in the front room, and rushed in there—I was making for the kitchen door when I heard the report of the revolver—I did not see what took place.
THOMAS CURZON . I was in bed with my wife early in the morning of 5th March when the prisoner came into the room—he pointed the revolver over the bed, saying "I will blow your brains out if you dare to move"—my wife got out of bed and pushed him out of the room—I heard the report of the revolver, and went out—I got a shovel, and struck the prisoner with it across the head—he said "I am done," and begged for mercy—I struck him again, and held him till some people from outside came, and a constable.
HENRY COLE . I live opposite No. 10—I heard the report of firearms, and went across to Curzon's—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Curzon and the prisoner there, and this revolver lying in the passage by the front door—I gave it to Badcock.
CHARLES BADCOCK (Policeman K 298.) About a quarter to 1 on the morning of 5th March I was called to No. 10—I saw Mrs. Curzon bleeding from the face—she pointed to the prisoner and said "That man has shot me, and I give him in charge"—I told the prisoner I should take him in charge—he said "All right, I did it, and I am not sorry for a thing I have done; I hit the right one; I gave her 2s., and I asked her for it back, and she refused to give it me; I left the house, I went home, I got the revolver, and loaded it in five chambers; I came back with the intention of frightening them; I held the revolver up in her face; some one hit me on the arm; I could not say who it was, or what it was with; the revolver went off, and fell out of my hand"—this revolver was handed to me by Cole; I examined it; it was loaded in three chambers; it has five chambers—this loaded cartridge was also handed to me by Cole; it fits the pistol—I took the prisoner to the station, and he was charged—he made no reply.
NEVIL REGINALD HOARE , M.R.C.S. On 5th March, about 1 a.m., I went to 10, Eagle Street—I found Mrs. Curzon suffering from a wound in the neck and one on the side of the chin—I stopped the bleeding, and sent her in an ambulance to the Poplar Hospital.
AVORY CLOUGH WALTERS . I was house surgeon at Poplar Hospital on 5th March—I saw Mrs. Curzon there, and examined her—she had one wound about an inch below the angle of the jaw on the left side side, about the size of a threepenny-piece—on the right of the medial line of the chin there was a starred wound, which led down to a fracture of the bone—it was a bad wound, though probably not dangerous—a very
small deviation might have been fatal—such a bullet as the one produced might cause such a wound.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Recommended to mercy on account of his character. —Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.
ABAH MAHOMET (Interpreted.) I am oilman on the steamship Ravenna—on 20th April, about a quarter to 4, I was near the Custom House, wearing a yellow silk handkerchief with little marks on it round my neck, in the corner of which was tied 2l. and a few coppers—the prisoner came up, seized my handkerchief, and ran away with it—I ran after her into a house; the door was open, and saw her there with my handkerchief in her hand—I caught hold of her, and said in English "Give my handkerchief"—she made no reply, and a man came up and told me to go out—the woman began to beat me, and I fled away into the street, spoke to a constable, and we went back to the house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I never went into any public-house, nor did I follow you out of one and ask you to take me home, nor did you ask me for some money, nor did I say that I had left it on board the ship—I did not say that I could not pay, and turn nasty and go out.
By the COURT. When I came from the steamer I had a few goods for sale, which I sold, and when I left the carriage at the Custom House Station I put the money in my handkerchief, in the same street that I saw the prisoner.
HENRY TAYLOR (Policeman K 184.) On 20th April I was on duty in Victoria Dock Road, and the prosecutor called me to No. 2, Eagle Street, and pointed out the prisoner in the back kitchen, and said in English "This woman has taken my handkerchief and my money, and I lock up"—another female and four men were there—on the way to the station the prisoner said that she was innocent as my gloves—she was charged, and made no reply—she never told me that the man had been drinking with her, and wanted to go with her—she was sober, but he seemed excited; he had been drinking—he said "Man hit me"—this was in the street, not in the house—he did not point out any of the men—I did not search anybody in the house, but I looked for the handkerchief, and could not find it—the female searcher searched the prisoner, but she handed nothing to me.
The prisoner called
MATILDA HINDER . I am an unfortunate, and live in this house, 2, Eagle Street—on 20th April, between 2 and 3 p.m., I was with the prosecutor in a gin palace—he was the worse for liquor—he picked up some port wine and some whisky which was there.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has not lived at 2, Eagle Street while I have lived there, but she did before—she knew the people in the house—it is 15 or 16 yards from there to the gin palace—I did not notice that the prosecutor had got a yellow silk handkerchief round his neck—he did not call for some drink or pay for any—the man did not say anything when his whisky was drunk—Mrs. Curzon did not say anything
thing when he drank her port wine, because she had lately been shot, and she could not open her mouth—if the prosecutor had not been a coloured man he would have been struck—only one man lives at 2, Eagle Street, Mrs. Jones's husband—I do not know who the six men in the kitchen were—they were not there when I returned—Mr. Jones was in bed—the prisoner is an unfortunate—Mrs. Jones is the proprietress of this brothel.
GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of larceny from the person at West Ham on 15th December, 1884.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
573. WALTER ROBERT JEFFERIES (44) [Pleaded guilty: see original image] , Stealing a sweeping machine, brush, and shovel, the goods of David Turner, after a conviction in August, 1886.**— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. DE MICHELE Defended.
CHARLES SIMPSON . I am a builder, of Station Road, Forest Gate—on 18th March last I was engaged in building in the Napier Road, Barking Road—I saw the prisoner in the Station Road at my house; I had another job on in the Station Road; he said "I want the loan of six battens to enable me to get my advance on Saturday"—I said "I will give you the six battens, and when you are ready to come for them you come round this way with a cart and I will either give them to you myself or I will send a man with you to give you the battens"—I made no settled price for them; he was to have the loan of them to enable him to get his draw—I did not charge him anything—that is all that took place; he went off—on Sunday morning I went to the premises I was building in Napier Road, and I there missed 27 ridge tiles, 5 red bricks, 3 front-door panels, 16 drain pipes, 6 chimney pots, 150 stock bricks, 16 battens, and a door from upstairs, which had been pulled off the hinges—I was plastering the building—they were materials I was going to use on the building—the battens were mostly upon the ceiling joists—I had last seen the things safe on the premises on the 17th, the Thursday I think—I next saw the prisoner about a week after in Stratford—I said, "Have you been and taken that material off my job in the Barking Road?"—he said "Yes, and you can summons me or lock me up or do anything you like to me"—he gave me a lot of sauce about it; he said "You are kicking up a b—row about these two or three little matters"—I said "It is enough to make anyone kick up a row to strip the job as you have done"—I met the prisoner at West Ham once—I don't feel certain whether that was before or after I saw him at Stratford—I spoke very few words to him then—I made inquiries and ascertained something about a Mr. Page—I went to the police-station and lodged a complaint against the prisoner—I saw him next at the Barking Police-station—I charged him with stealing the materials; he made no answer—I was shown all these materials at the police-station; I identified them all—their value is about 7l.—I did not hear him say he had sold them to old Page—he had no authority from me to take them off the premises—he had no business or anything to do on the premises at all—he was to have the six
battens on condition that he came to me and I went with him or sent a man—he did not come—I did not go with him to give him the six he had then—I did not know he came for them.
Cross-examined. I was in a little trouble about paying my workmen's wages at the time—one of my witnesses to-day, George Clark, was suing me at the time at the police-court for his wages—he was the only one suing me—I was short of money—I know Scott and Burroughes—I did not direct Scott in the presence of Burroughes to take these things to the prisoner—I have seen them outside—they had been at work for me—I deny that I said in the presence of Burroughes that the prisoner Coates was to have all the stuff and odds and ends in the job in the Napier Road; he was to have the loan of six battens I was to give to him—I know these things fetched 25s. altogether—I believe the prisoner's address was given to the person in charge of the premises when the things were fetched—I prosecuted the prisoner on 3rd April, about three weeks after—I had no dispute about these things with my landlord or the man in possession of the ground, who is White, the owner—these things were mine; they were paid for—Mr. White did not tell me that if I did not prosecute the prisoner he would prosecute me, nothing of the kind—the property was mine before it was fixed on the premises—I did not order any of these battens to be taken to my place or to any other place—I took away three drain pipes to go on to the Station Road job—that was before he was there—I took nothing away besides the three drain pipes before the 17th—I believe the prisoner is also a builder.
Re-examined. Nobody was in charge of the house where the things were taken from—I asked the woman next door, which is let, to give an eye to the place—I put a good quantity of the stuff into her garden for security, and some of it was taken from her garden.
By MR. DE MICHELE. I believe the prisoner gave his name and address to that woman; her name is Chapman.
By the COURT. I said at the police-court that the prisoner was to buy the six battens; he was to pay for them—I made no arrangement what he was to pay, I did not settle the price with him.
By the JURY. The battens were 2 by 6, and the drain pipes 6 inches—I have an agreement with the owner of the ground—the builder does not hold that; as soon as money is advanced he gives it up to the freeholder.
GEORGE CLARK . I am a carpenter, living at Fleet Street, Canning Town—I was employed by the prosecutor to make door frames for the house he was building in Napier Road—I made the jambs of this door produced—I saw it fixed on the premises, I recognise it—I saw the prisoner with three others on the premises in Napier Road on 18th March—they were loading up the building materials—I could not say what they were exactly, I stood 200 or 300 yards away—I did not speak to him; I had no power to stop things at the time—I acquainted the surveyor about two hours afterwards—I saw him take things from the garden next door next day.
Cross-examined. I have had to sue the prosecutor for my wages—I was subpœnaed to come here—I know something about the prosecutor to my cost—I do not know that other men have sued him for wages—I sued him at West Ham Police-court; he was there with Mr. Turner—I cannot say what was taken away—I was not present when Scott and Burroughes were with Simpson—I believe the prosecutor was short of
money—I do not know of any battens or other things that the prosecutor sold the week before.
Re-examined. I sued the prosecutor on 15th March—I was not working for him on the 18th, but I had not been paid off, and I went to meet him on two or three occasions by appointment—I went over on the 18th to see if the work was on again, as I had stopped—there was 11s. 7d. owing to me then—I ceased to work for the prisoner the week ending 5th March; the work had stopped then.
ROBERT FLEGG . I live at 5, Sweet Street, Plaistow, and am a bricklayer—I was employed by the prisoner to go to a house being built in the Napier Road, East Ham, and cart all the bargain he said he had bought of odds and ends—he said, "I want a van: I have bought a bargain, a lot of odds and ends; I want to get them up on to the job before Mr. Curtis comes round"—Mr. Curtis is the surveyor of the builder—I and the governor and the prisoner went with the van, the prisoner pointed the things out—some of them were in Mrs. Chapman's garden next door—he said we had to load up all that was his—there were some battens and things upstairs, which the prisoner threw down to us; I did not count them—we all three loaded the van—we took battens, drain pipes, red bricks, stock bricks, and a few air bricks and chimneypots—the pots were next door, the red bricks in the garden, and stock bricks in the street—this door was one of the things, it stood in the passage—the prisoner said "Put that on," everything that was his—I took the things to Mr. Coates's job—he was building some houses in Shepherd Street.
Cross-examined. The prisoner told me he had bought all the things of Mr. Simpson—Mr. Coates gave the lady in charge of the garden his name and address in my presence when we fetched the things away—it was between 11 and 3 o'clock, I should think—they were unused building materials that might be worked in elsewhere—I afterwards went to Mr. Simpson to inquire whether Mr. Coates was there.
The Jury here stated that they considered there was no evidence to support a criminal charge. MR. WILMOT said that after that intimation he should not proceed further with the case.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted; MR. DE MICHELE Defended.
JOHN TURNER . I live at 165, Forest Gate, and am a stone mason by trade—I was doing the stone work and had a block of stone on the premises Mr. Simpson was building in the Napier Road on the 18th—on the Sunday I missed it—it was going to be used in the building there—it was worth 5s.—I afterwards saw it at the Barking Police-station with a lot of other building materials—the prisoner never bought the stone from me, and had no authority to take it.
Cross-examined. This stone was among the other building materials on the pavement in Napier Road—I work for Simpson; this was my property—I put no mark on it to show it was not Simpson's property—it was on the same job as Simpson's things—I live in the same house with him—I should be surprised to hear the stone fetched 1s. when it was sold.
By the JURY. It was about 2 feet by 6 feet; Bath stone; a rough
block for chimney-pieces—it was in the open public road, not very far off the stock bricks.
The Jury again stated that they considered there was no case against the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
HENRY WRIGHT . I live at Catherine Street, Canning Town, and am a labourer—on 11th April I was in the Trafalgar public-house, Nelson Street—the prisoner and other people were there—the prisoner stripped himself to have a fight—a man pulled a revolver out of the prisoner's belt and the prisoner pulled a dagger out of a stick and ran it into my right arm—I ran to the door, a doctor saw me—I never spoke to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I never put a finger on him or did anything to him—this was in the private bar of the public-house—I can't say how many men were drinking—they were strangers to me—the prisoner was a stranger, I heard he was a sailor—I did not see a number of people pulling him about—no one pulled off his coat but the prisoner—a man squared up to him—the prisoner pulled off his coat to fight one man—only his mother and father were round the prisoner—I did not see a number of his associates round him—I did not take the revolver out of his belt—the prisoner was very excited—the wound I got was slight, about 1/4 inch deep—I lost a week's work through it; it was right in the muscle and it turned very stiff and blue.
JOHN BARBER . I live at Canning Town, and was in the public-house on the morning of 11th April—I saw the prisoner strip; I took his revolver out of his belt and passed it to the landlord—the prisoner then took the sword from the stick which his father held, and I made for the street door—I then heard some one say he had stabbed Henry Wright in the arm—he did nothing to me.
Cross-examined. His father was holding the stick and the prisoner made a snatch at it—I believe he was a bit excited—only the two men he was quarrelling with were round him and his father—he took off his coat to fight the men his father was quarrelling with; they were two to two.
ALFRED KENNEDY . I am a surgeon—on this morning I was called to the Plaistow Police-station and examined the prosecutor, who was suffering from a punctured wound on the inner side of the right arm a 1/4 inch deep; it was not dangerous, but such a wound as might have been caused by this dagger.
Cross-examined. It was more its position than anything else that made it painful.
GEORGE BINGLEY (Policeman K 543.) On this morning I was called to the Trafalgar, and the prisoner was pointed out to me by Wright, who said, "This is the man that stabbed me in the arm"—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody; he said, "You want to give me five years, do you? I have not done anything, let me go; I am a stranger
here; I suppose this job will cost me 5l. "—at the station when charged he said, "It was all done in a lark"—I searched him at the station and found on him 12 cartridges and this sheath knife—the revolver was handed to me by the landlord.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. F. FULTON Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. TORR Prosecuted.
ALFRED LEACH (Sergeant Criminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard.) On the 7th of April I went to Winchester, where I found the prisoner detained in custody—I read this warrant to him, in answer to which he said, "I know nothing about it"—I took him to Rotherhithe, where he was charged—he said, "I plead guilty, it is all through drink."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I told you I had the note you gave to Mr. Nagel—I did not tell you the only course for you to take was to plead guilty to this charge—I told you I should arrest you instantly if you were acquitted on this charge, and I shall do so.
JAMES NAGEL . I live at the Deptford Lower Road, Rotherhithe, and assist my aunt as manager of the China Hall public-house—on the 18th of February prisoner came in and was served—he said he wanted to take a number of men to Canada, and he had authority from the Canadian Pacific Railway Company in Canada to take them out, and somebody had promised him 10s. for each man he could take out—between the 18th and the 24th he had run up a score of various sums of money, amounting to 3l. 10s.—on the 24th I lenthim 10s., making up the amount he owed to 4l., and he gave me this paper, purporting to be an order for the payment of 4l. (This order, addressed to Sir Charles Tupper, Agent-General for the Dominion of Canada, requested the payment to Mrs. C. Hayes of 4l., to be charged to the account of Alexander Sheriff.) Mrs. C. Hayes is the name of my aunt—it was on the faith of that authority I lent him the last 10s.—on the next day I went to Sir Charles Tupper's office in Victoria Street—I have never got my money.
Cross-examined. You owed money on the Sunday, because you then made out a similar note to this for 3l. 10s., and you tore it up and said, "I will date it on for Monday, this won't be legal"—I can't say whether I gave you any money before the Sunday—I have been to the theatre with you, I don't know if it was on Saturday night—on the Sunday I went out for a drive with you—before we went out you asked me
for a loan of 10s.—I gave you various sums after that, but nothing after the last 10s.—on returning on the Sunday you were at our house—I gave you a pint of whisky to take home just as you were going away—I had the note then for 3l. 10s.—on the Monday morning you were going out with the waggon again, and you called and took another pint of whisky—you had some drink and other things—when you returned I asked to have this note changed; I did not say it was not stamped—you came in and told me you had been to the West and wanted money, and the gentleman was not in, and you had an order to go up next morning and you wanted 10s., and you took it, and wrote out a note for 10s. more, and I fetched the stamp and you said, "That is right, I forgot that from the last one"—you said, "You can go to Sir Charles Tupper's office tomorrow," and I said, "Suppose he refuses to pay me"—you said, "You can lock me up."
Re-examined. The 23rd was Sunday—the original order for the payment of 3l. 10s. was made out on Sunday, and was dated the following day to be legal—I lent him 10s. more, and he made out this note on the Monday night for 4l.
JOSEPH COLMAR . I am secretary at the office of the Canadian Government in London at 9, Victoria Chambers—while Sir Charles Tupper is absent in Canada I am manager there—on the 24th of January I was in charge—I know nothing of the prisoner, I saw him for the first time at Greenwich Police-court—he had no account against the Canadian Government on which he had any authority to draw; nor against Sir Charles Tupper—the prisoner had no authority to make any such order as this against Sir Charles Tupper—there is no value whatever in the document.
The prisoner stated in his defence that he had spent money at the prosecutor's house, and that up to noon on the Sunday he owed nothing, so that he must have been supplied with 3l. worth of liquor on that day, that he borrowed 10s. and had more drinks, which were not charged for, as the note was only for 3l. 10s., and that he gave the second note on the Monday, subsequent to receiving the 10s.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. F.E. COLE Prosecuted.
JOHN ELLIOTT . I am a blacksmith, of 3, Queen's Cottages, Blackheath—on Friday, 15th April, about 8 o'clock, I was in the Broadway, Deptford, in the Dover Castle public-house—Simpson followed me in, and asked for a loan of twopence—I gave him twopence and half a pint of ale—I had had slight acquaintance with him for a couple of months—I went out and crossed the road up King Street, and the two prisoners followed me—I had never seen Hurson before to my knowledge—I did not see him at the Dover Castle—when I got half way up King Street
they overtook me—Hurson said "You behaved very well to my friend; if you will go to the Fox I will stand you a glass of ale"—we all went to the Golden Cross, and I paid for three glasses of ale—I went out from there after Simpson, and Hurson followed out close—there are two steps outside the public-house—Simpson stopped and stopped my progress—I felt a hand going into my right-hand trousers pocket, in which I had 1l. 10s. in gold, loose; I had also 6s. in silver in my left trousers pocket—I felt the hand drawn out of my pocket, and turned and said to them "You have robbed me"—I got hold of both of them—Simpson got away, and I and Hurson had a struggle up and down on the path—he said he would kick my brains out—he got away, and they both ran off—I saw Hurson when I seized him, hand something to Simpson—I cannot swear what it was—I informed the police—about an hour or an hour and a half afterwards I picked out the prisoners at the station from six or seven others—I had been at work on this Friday, and had been paid my wages, 1l. 15s. 6d.—I work for the South Metropolitan Gas Company—the money was quite safe in my pocket when I went into the Golden Cross—I felt it there—I changed a shilling to give Simpson twopence—I don't think I pulled out other coins with it.
Cross-examined by Simpson. I have known you since Christmas—we have played one or two games at cards together, that is all—I have not lost money from my pocket in your company before—we leave off work at 5.30, and have to wait for our wages—I saw you first from 20 minutes to half-past 7—it was as near 8 o'clock as I could make out when we came out of the Golden Cross—I did not come straight to the Dover Castle from my work—I was with a shopmate in a beershop—I gave him sixpence and stood him a drink at the Jubilee—I then went to a barber's shop and had a shave—I met two more men as I came from the barber's—I did not stop a minute to speak to them—I did speak to them; I knew them—I did not give them anything—I had had two drinks in the Jubilee, one in the Dover Castle, and one in the Golden Cross—I stopped an hour at the Jubilee—you stood at the bottom of the steps and stopped my progress—I was outside the door; Hurson was behind us—the two steps lead on to the footpath—I put my hand in my pocket at the Golden Cross—I last saw the money at the Dover Castle—I put my hand on the money going up the street after leaving the Castle—about an hour or an hour and a half afterwards I and my wife went out, and looked in the public-houses, and we saw you in the Admiral Duncan, and directly you saw us you ran away.
By the COURT. At the Jubilee, where I stopped for an hour, I took my gold coins out of one pocket and put them in the other, separating the gold from the silver—I put the gold in one pocket and the silver in the other.
EDMUND GREGORY . I am landlord of the Golden Cross, Deptford—on Friday, 15th April, the prosecutor and the two prisoners came in, about 8 o'clock, and had a glass of ale each—the prosecutor paid—they then went out, and I heard a bit of a scuffling noise going on outside—there are two steps from my house into the road—they were all sober.
Cross-examined by Hurson. You stopped in long enough to drink your ale—I could not say who went out first—I did not go outside—I could not see whether Simpson stopped the prosecutor's progress on the step—the noise happened about a minute after you got outside.
Cross-examined by Simpson. I have one large bar—you went out one after another—the noise might have been 10 yards from my door, but I could not say.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R.) On this night, about 8 o'clock, the prosecutor complained to me; he was sober—in consequence I arrested Hurson in the Centurion public-house about 200 or 300 yards from this beerhouse—I said "I shall apprehend you for being concerned with another man in robbing a man of 30s. in King Street"—he said "I think you are getting of it up for me; I only got chucked at Woolwich yesterday"—I took him to the station—he was placed with seven or eight others, and the prosecutor was called in, and at once identified Hurson—I searched and found on him 12s. 6d. silver and 10d. bronze—he said "I can account for that money; I have been to work and earned that."
ARTHUR HARRIS (Detective P.) On Friday, 15th April, I arrested Simpson at a beershop in Loampit Vale, Lewisham—I told him I wanted him for being concerned with another in stealing 30s.—he said "Me! you have made a mistake"—this was about 12 at night—he had a pint pot in his hand—he said "You b—sod, I have a good mind to sling this in your b—eye"—(I was in plain clothes—I took this note when I got to the station about quarter of an hour afterwards)—"there are only two of you, I could give you a b—job to take me to the station"—I took him to the station—after we got some distance on the way he said "God blind me, I know what you mean; I was in the Dover Castle public-house last night and I asked a man to lend me 2d., he did so; I then called Ginger Tom round and said 'Here is a drink of beer for you;' I and the man then left and went to a beershop in King Street on the right-hand side; Ginger Tom followed us in; I called for three glasses of beer and wanted to pay for them, the man said 'No, I will pay for them.' When we got outside I saw the man catch hold of Ginger Tom, and he said 'You have robbed me of 30s.;' I said 'He has not robbed you.' With that he caught hold of me and said 'I will have the pair of you.' I gave him the slip and ran away. I afterwards saw Ginger Tom in the Duncan and said 'I want half of what you have got for my share. He said 'All right, I will give it you, and I must have a drink.' I knew he had robbed the man, and if you had got me first I should not have rucked (meaning rounded I suppose.) The man came and looked in the door (meaning the prosecutor), Ginger Tom ran out, I ran after him." He was taken to the station and charged—I found 1s. 10 1/2 d. on him—the prosecutor was sober, Simpson had been drinking—after he was charged he said "All I have had of the money was twopennyworth of whisky—he made that remark several times.
Cross-examined by Hurson. Simpson had been drinking, he was not drunk; I told the inspector sufficient of what Simpson had said for him to take the charge.
Witness for the defence of Simpson.
FREDERICK DOWLING . I am a chimney-sweep of 78, Railway Grove, New Cross—I was with Simpson from about 4 till 7 in the Castle public-house—I saw Elliott call him out, he seemed to be the worse for drink—they went to the other side—I don't know the time the prosecutor looked in the Castle and called you out—I did not see Hurson with you—I saw you walk towards King Street by yourself, and I walked away from you.
The prisoners in their defence stated that they had been drinking with the prosecutor, and that on leaving the public-house he charged them with robbery; and they asserted their innocence.
GUILTY . Hurson** then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in March, 1885—Simpson.**— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
WILLIAM ROBSON . I am a linendraper at High Street, Woolwich—on Saturday, 2nd April, the prisoner came to my door and pushed it back, put his hand behind where there was a pile of woollen shirts, and took three—I was at my desk about 15 feet from the door, I saw him distinctly—I immediately ran to the door, he dropped the three shirts on the pavement, just on the threshold of the door, and ran away down the street and was pursued and captured about ten doors down and held till a constable came up, who brought him back to me; I recognised him as the same man—I did not run after him—I charged the prisoner with stealing three woollen shirts, he said nothing—the three shirts were worth about 15s.—the prisoner was sober—the shirts were just inside the door resting on a pile of carpet—the door is a wide glass one; it was about one-third open.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You dropped the shirts on the threshold as soon as you saw me—my desk where I was sitting is in front of my door—I could see you quite plainly—the constable brought you back.
JOHN COBBLE (Policeman R 255.) On the evening of the 2nd April I was in High Street, Woolwich about 8 o'clock, and saw the prisoner held by the prosecutor's son, who called me—I took him into custody and said he would be charged with stealing three shirts—he said "I don't know anything about it"—I arrested him about 20 yards from the shop, I should say—I searched, but found nothing on him.
Cross-examined. I first took you to the shop and then to the station—I did not see the shirts picked up—they had been picked up and I saw them in the shop—you had been drinking, but knew perfectly well what you were doing; you smelt of drink and staggered.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he had no intention of stealing the shirts, but that he had had some drink.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
MICHAEL GEORGE WARD . I live at 32, New Road, Woolwich, and am a labourer in the Arsenal and an army pensioner—on Saturday, 2nd April, about 4 o'clock, I was in Armstrong Street, Woolwich, carrying a tablecloth under my arm—I saw the prisoner and another man; the prisoner touched me on the shoulder and said "Are you going to treat us?"—I said "Certainly not"—I did not know him nor the other man; they were quite strangers to me—the prisoner put his arm round my neck and shoved me up against the wall—he was standing at my side—at the same time he put his other hand in my pocket and took out two half-crowns and a two-shilling piece from my left waistcoat pocket; the
other person put his hand in the other pocket and took six sixpenny pieces and some coppers—altogether I lost 10s. or 11s. and the table-cloth, which the prisoner took away—they both ran away in different directions—I ran up the street but could not find them—I made a complaint to a constable, and on Monday night I went to the police-station, and I there saw the prisoner coming out of the lock-up; I recognised him; I have not the slightest doubt about him—I afterwards identified him from 14 or 15 other prisoners—he was sober—I was sober; I had had a little to drink.
Cross-examined. There are very few people in Armstrong Street; no one was in the street at the time—it is about 100 yards from the Arsenal Station; it is not one of the busiest parts of Woolwich—I could not offer resistance, I was pressed so hard against the wall—I did not report it at the station on Sunday, because I thought Monday would be time enough—I got a knock over my eye; I showed the mark to the Magistrate, and told him I had got a slight bruise—there is only a slight bruise there now; I was not much hurt—I cannot say how I got the cut over my eye—after I had been robbed I went home to Armstrong Street.
By the JURY. This was at 4 o'clock; it was quite light—where the robbery was committed there is a public-house on one side and a dwelling-house on the other, but the two gables abut on the street—I am quite certain the prisoner is the man; I could recognise the other man too—I told the constable on the point at once, and on Monday I went to the station of my own accord.
FREDERICK ALEXANDER (Detective R.) I was at the police-court when Ward made a complaint—the prisoner was then in custody on the other charge—Ward saw him with a number of others all leaving the cells as they were going to the prisoners' waiting-room; they were following one another in single file—as the prisoner passed with the others Ward said he thought that was the man—I asked Ward to go into the waiting-room and make sure; he went in and identified the prisoner as the man—the prisoner was remanded on the former charge, and then charged by Ward with robbing him—the prisoner said Ward had made a mistake; it was not him, and he said he had been drinking—nothing was found on the prisoner when he was brought in.
The prisoner asserted that he knew nothing of the case.
GUILTY **.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Stephen.
MR. KEITH FRITH Prosecuted.
JANE MANNING . I did live at 60, Hollington Street, Camberwell—I now live at 10, Archer Street, Vauxhall—Henry Manning is my husband—the prisoner is my son—we let the house out in lodgings—up to within a week of the 2nd April the prisoner had been lodging with us—we had not quarrelled—he left us—I did not know that he was going to leave
till the night he went away—there had been a disagreement a few weeks previously between the father and the elder brother, and the prisoner left after that—he returned for some of his things between 7 and 8 o'clock—on Saturday, 2nd April, I let him in; he was not sober—he had been a teetotaler for three months, and I was surprised to see him in drink—he asked if his brother was in—he came into the kitchen—seeing him in drink I went out directly to fetch his father—I heard him follow me through the passage—when I came back he was gone—about a quarter to 9, hearing a knock, I spoke to Mr. Flynn, and he went towards the door—I asked him to let me out, thinking it was my son returned—I walked round the house, and in about 10 minutes went back and saw a mob round the door, and two policemen—I did not go in then; not till after my son was locked up, about a quarter to 9—the place was then in darkness—I made my way into the kitchen—there were several people there—a light was brought, and I saw things had been burnt—a shirt and collars and a chair on which they had been airing and a lamp was on the floor broken—a coat on a peg on the wall was burnt, and three pictures were down just under where they had been hung; they were not burnt—a cloth on the table was burnt, and the cupboard door was singed—the things were all right when I left the house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You never quarrelled with me or your father—I don't say you left through quarrels—you never threatened to do anything to me or your father—I never knew you to threaten or be malicious; in fact I could not say it was you that I let in.
JAMES FLYNN . I am a labourer—on the night of 2nd April I was lodging in this house—several families were also lodging there—five adults and three children were in the house at the time of the fire—at a quarter to 9, in consequence of what I was asked by Mrs. Manning, I opened the door and saw the prisoner—he went into the back room or kitchen and stopped—I let the mother out—I went upstairs—in about 12 minutes he left—I did not see him leave; I heard his footsteps—he hurried out sharp, and about two minutes after I smelt burning—I spoke to my wife, and went downstairs and found a fire in the room where the prisoner had been—there were some dresses and pictures blazing, and a paraffin lamp was broken—the cupboard had been set fire to, and the partition and ceiling was scorched—I put that out—my children were in bed upstairs, and there were several other people in the house—I don't know whether the prisoner was drunk or sober when I let him in—he had had enough—he had the sense to shut the door and leave the place—I could not call him drunk—he was able to walk—he did not speak to me.
Cross-examined. When I smelt the fire and came down I did not find anybody there—I put out the fire myself with a little assistance from Edward Chapple—he was not in the house at the time—he burst the door open, and carried his blind father downstairs—I went upstairs and brought my children down—my wife was on the window sill with the baby ready to drop it out—from the time I went upstairs till you came back was about five minutes—you were standing outside—I did not see you there—you could not have gone away far—there were two constables there, and I charged you—you said you had come to see your dad, as if you had not seen enough of him—the room was full of smoke when I
went down—Chapple and a neighbour next door helped me to put the fire out—I never had any quarrel with you.
RICHARD STOCKWELL (Policeman L 304.) At a quarter to 9 on 2nd April I was called by Flynn—he charged the prisoner with setting fire to his father's place—the prisoner replied, "How could I have set fire to the place when I have only just come into the house?"—he was the worse for drink—he was taken to the station and charged—he made no answer to it—on his person were found a life preserver and a knife.
THOMAS NAYLOR (Police Sergeant L 21.) After the prisoner was charged I examined the premises in the back room ground floor used as a kitchen—I found a coat and two hats in the corner against the cupboard, also portions of a shirt, a table cover, three pictures broken, and some boots; also several pieces of rag and paper more or less burnt—portions of the paraffin lamp were under them—the articles all smelt of paraffin—they were all in a heap together in the corner against the cupboard, which was partially burnt—the table was in the centre of the room 4 or 5 feet from the heap—the cupboard door was charred, and the top of the wall and the ceiling blacked.
Cross-examined. It was about a quarter past 10 when I examined the premises—that would be three-quarters of an hour after the fire—the things in the corner of the room could not have been thrown there by persons connected with putting out the fire, they would not have placed a paraffin lamp under it to put out the fire.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I know not the least the cause of the fire, and all I went for was to look for my young brother. Not finding him, I went out. When I came back they accused me of the fire. I was not in the place a minute each time."
The prisoner in his defence repeated that he only went to the house to look for his brother, and knew nothing of the fire; that being drunk he might have accidentally knocked down a picture, and the lamp not being safe might have been thrown over.
586. CHARLES BAXTER (50) and ELIZABETH POTTS (42) , Feloniously using to Elizabeth Culling a certain instrument to procure her miscarriage. Other Counts for administering to her a large quantity of a certain noxious thing, with the like intent.
MESSRS. POLAND and CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN defended Baxter, MR. GILL defended Potts.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
Street, and then I moved to No. 20 opposite—on 10th March, shortly after 9 a.m., I was in my house; the prisoner occupied two rooms in that house at the top, and I occupied rooms below with my wife; I was the landlord of the house—a knock came at the door and I went to assist in opening it, as the latch was out of order; but just before I got there the prisoner came in and closed the door; as he did not address me I addressed him—I saw he had something concealed in his left hand, he closed the door with his right—I said "Good morning, Mr. Lane," and he did not answer me—after he had closed the door he walked with both his hands behind him towards me, and changed the weapon from the left to the right hand—he said "That is a fine thing you have done for me, Mr. Mackenzie"—I said "I have wished to see you some morning, come downstairs and have a little conversation with me"—he said "Not before your wife"—I had a muffler round me—he made a spring at me, and I saw he had either a knife or a rasp in his hand—he stabbed me here in the left groin; I fought with him, but he kept on striking me—there were six wounds on my body and one on my cheek here—after that I saw my wife in a swooning condition—she saw what took place, and tried to separate us—we struggled together on to the landing, but before that I threw him down over my bench, and while he was on the floor he clung to me—eventually I found myself outside the door—he was going to strike me afterwards, but I got downstairs and outside, and followed him for half an hour, and found a policeman and made a complaint to him, and went to the police-station—I did not go to the hospital, I was attended at home by a doctor, and am under his hands now.
Cross-examined the Prisoner. When you knocked at the door I said "Come in"—I was not aware that you were in the hospital and underwent an operation, and only came out on 21st Feb.—I don't doubt it, I know you came out of the hospital; I heard you were very bad—you said something at the station about your temperature having stood for five days at 104 degrees—nothing had occurred between us between 21st Feb. and 10th March, only that you alarmed us by going about the staircase with a large knife, and I went for a doctor—the day before this we had had a conversation of about 20 minutes or half an hour—I had given you a shilling before that: you were 5l. or 6l. in my debt, but I said nothing about it—when you had the knife you said you would disembowel me, but I thought you did not mean to carry out that, and I said "Go to bed, and I will see you in the morning"—you did not catch me and your wife committing adultery in your bedroom, your wife would not do such a thing—I did not take steps with her to have you arrested; I never worked in harmony with her, she was too disagreeable a member—I should have put the brokers in—we were friendly for two years, and I helped you in little things when you seemed to deserve it—you did not say on this morning when you came inside my room "I want to speak to you about leaving this house next Monday"—I did not come and knock you down at the door.
EMMA MACKENZIE . I am the wife of the last witness—on 10th March, about 9 a.m., we were in our room working together, and heard a knock at the door—my husband opened it, and the prisoner came in—I am not quite sure what he said, because I was sitting with a broom on my lap, and in rising, it fell and made a noise—I next saw him striking my husband as hard and as fast as he could; he had hold of him by the collar with his left hand, and was striking him with his right; he had something in his hand, but I could not tell what it was—before he struck
him my husband wrestled with him and got away from him and knocked him down, but he held hold of my husband by the muffler round his neck, and they both fell—my husband called out "Open the door and get assistance," and I opened the door—they got out on the landing and were wrestling, and then he went like that to my husband, and I took this rasp from his hand.
Cross-examined. I did not hear you tell my husband you had come to have a talk with him for the purpose of leaving the house on Monday; you only made one observation, and then after that you struck him—I said at the police-court that what you said you must have said in my presence—Mackenzie did not then come and knock you down—he knocked you down over his seat—we had two lamps alight, as it was foggy, and one was broken, and I was in the flames, and the brooms were burnt up—I put it out with a pail of water—I was aware that you and my husband were very friendly—you came to see me three times after you came from the hospital, but you were not able to do anything—my husband gave you 1s. the first time you came, and he sent you 1s. to the hospital—my husband has several of these rasps—I did not see your hand cut in trying to get this rasp out of my husband's hand.
Re-examined. My husband had not got the rasp in his hand.
MARGARET MACKENZIE . I am the daughter of the last witness—I did not see the assault—when I left the kitchen I saw father on the staircase running away from the prisoner, trying to escape—I went and opened the front door—I then saw the prisoner throw a large wooden tool at my father; he bobbed down, and it missed him—father ran into the street—I said "Shall I go for a policeman?" and he said "Yes"—the tool he threw was not that one.
Cross-examined. I had not for a week previous to this, been given instructions by my father that if I heard him and you quarrelling I was to go for a policeman.
WILLIAM ROBSON (Policeman V 297.) On 10th March, about 9.30 a.m., information was given to me, and I went to the Queen's Road, and saw the prosecutor and prisoner standing facing each other on a piece of waste green, and the prosecutor pointed to the prisoner and said he wished to give him in custody for stabbing him—he was bleeding very much from the mouth—the prisoner said nothing—I took him to the station, where the charge was read over to him, and he said "I did not; we both had hold of the rasp, and we were trying to get it from each other."
Cross-examined. At the station the prosecutor made use of the words "Stabbed with a knife or some other sharp instrument"—it is about a quarter of a mile from 17, St. George's Street, to where I arrested you.
ARTHUR DORIN . I am divisional surgeon at Battersea Park Road Police-station—on 10th March I examined the prosecutor at the station, and found him suffering from six stabs on the body and one under the left armpit—one was about 3 1/2 inches above the right nipple, and there were two wounds about 6 inches below the left nipple; one was above the hip bone, and another in the groin—they all penetrated his clothes—the most serious was the one in the groin; it was dangerous—I have had him under my care ever since—the wounds are not healed yet, but he is out of danger now—this instrument could have inflicted the wounds—there
was also a wound in the cheek, from which blood was flowing; that was done, I fancy, by the same instrument.
Cross-examined. You asked me to look at your hand; it was not cut, the skin was simply grated off—I did not advise Mackenzie to go to the hospital; he asked me to call and see him, and I did so—if he had made application at the hospital he would have been detained there until his wounds were healed, that would have been probably more than six weeks—I did not tell the Magistrate on 17th March that the prosecutor would be able to attend on the next occasion.
Re-examined. The prosecutor was too ill to attend at the remand—he did not give his evidence till the last remand.
JOHN MACKENZIE (Re-examined by the Prisoner.) I went to the inspector at midnight to get the services of Dr. Neal—I wanted him to come to you and give you a soothing draft, as I thought you were looking mad—I said at the station I was not sure whether you stabbed me with a knife.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence stated that he went to the prosecutor's workshop for the purpose of arranging to leave the house; that the prosecutor knocked him down; that they rolled over on the floor; that the prosecutor suddenly picked up this rasp and that he received the wounds in his (the prisoner's) endeavour to obtain possession of it.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury, as they thought he was not right in his mind.
588. JOHN HALL (17) , Feloniously placing a pair of trolley wheels across the line of the London and South-Western Railway Company, with intent to endanger the lives of passengers, and obstruct engines and carriages using the railway.
MR. AVORY Prosecuted.
WILLIAM JAMES SANDERS . I am inspector at Clapham Junction Station, South-Western Railway—about 6.30 p.m. on 6th April I saw the prisoner at the top of Sleeper Road, or what is called the Kensington siding, with a number of other lads—I gave instructions to the signalman—about 7.15 I heard of these trolley wheels being on the line.
WILLIAM COTTON . I am a carriage examiner of the South-Western Railway—on 6th April, about 7.15 p.m., I saw the prisoner on the new Kensington siding—he placed two pairs of trolley wheels on the new Kensington siding with other boys, and sent them rolling towards the middle road and the departure rail—I could have caught him, but as I knew a London, Chatham, and Dover train was due I followed the wheels and took them off the line—they were rolling towards the line used by the passenger trains—I gave information to one of our policemen—next evening, April 7th, I saw the prisoner in custody and identified him.
siding between the metals—they went to the examiner's hut and pulled down the door—they went inside, knocked the stove to pieces, kicked the fire all over the place, and pelted the chimney pot with stones till they knocked it off—I told him I was a Company's officer, and took him in custody—I took him to my box, and while he was there Cotton, the other witness, came up and identified him.
RICHARD EDMONDS (Police Inspector South-Western Railway.) The prisoner was handed over to me by Lawrence—Cotton came and gave me information, and I then told the prisoner he would be charged with causing wilful damage to the platelayers' hut, and further with obstructing the line on the preceding night—he said he did not; "what obstructtion?"—I said "A pair of trolley wheels"—he said "I know nothing of the trolley wheels; I was there."
The prisoner in his defence said that he knew nothing about it.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder,
MR. GILL, for the prosecution, stated that the girl became a mother in December, 1886; that the prisoner paid the expenses of her confinement and gave her 10s. a month, and offered to marry her. MR. H. AVORY, for the prisoner stated that the girl looked much older than she was, and that her child was fully developed; that the prisoner had paid her 4l. or 5l. and continued to pay for its support, and to keep him in prison would prevent his supporting her (which her mother could not do), he being suspended as a Post Office letter carrier pending this charge, and that he was ready to marry the girl as soon as her mother considered her old enough.— Judgment respited.
MR. POYNTON Prosecuted; MR. FRITH Defended.
ALFRED BENN . I am a master butcher, of 287, Camberwell Road—on Monday, 11th April, I was at Kempton Park Races, and about 2.30 p.m. I was in the 3s. 6d. betting ring—I did not see the prisoner there till I found his hand in my pocket—he was on my left side; I had 60l. in my pocket in three packets of 20l. each, done up in paper, and a halfsovereign loose, and a cheque for 6l. 13s. 9d.—the packets were in my purse separately done up, as my money goes into the bank every Monday—the cheque was in a purse in my left pocket—the prisoner put his left hand in my left trousers pocket and took out my purse—I tried to seize his left hand but could not get it; I seized his right hand and was knocked to the ground and confidentially kicked, by his companions, I suppose—I kept hold of the prisoner two or three minutes, till Sergeant Shaddock came up, and still held him after he was in custody—I saw the corner of the purse in his hand and identified it—it was a three-clasp purse, bright metal—I called out "Stop thief"—I have not seen any of my money since—I have stopped the cheque.
Cross-examined. I lost the purse as near 2.30 p.m. as possible—I started for the racecourse about 10.30, and drove down from Camberwell Road—I stopped at two public-houses on the way and put up at the third—I had the usual glass at all those places, it was beer and nothing else—I did not go to bet, but naturally enough I had 5s. "on"—I took all that money with me because I did not like to leave it at home; I thought it was safer to take it to the racecourse—I left some money at home—I had no drink on the race course previous to charging the prisoner—I got there at 1 or half-past—the second race was being run when I felt a hand in my trousers pocket—I had no drink between the first and second race—the man, whoever he was, stood at my back leaning towards the left, and I felt his hand in my pocket at the end of the race when there was excitement, but through the confusion I could see the steel mounting on the purse—I cannot describe the man immediately in front of me or the man on my right side—I had never seen the prisoner before to my knowledge—I have not said, "It was during the excitement caused by my seizing the prisoner by his right hand that I saw the purse in his left," what I said was read over to me—I was quite as free from excitement as I am to-day till he put his hand in my pocket.
GEORGE SHADDOCK (Police Sergeant.) On April 11 I was in this betting ring, saw a crowd, and the prosecutor and the prisoner and two or three others on the ground struggling, about four of them—the prosecutor was holding on to the prisoner's right hand, and the prisoner was trying to get away—I caught hold of him and said, "What is the matter?"—he said, "This man has stolen my purse"—I said, "You will have to go to the station with me," and took him through the ring—there was a large crowd, and several of them shouted "Rouse"—that means to lynch him from my custody—I said, "You had better not rouse"—I got assistance and took the prisoner to the station—when the charge was read over to him he said, "Did not you catch hold of two or three other people before me and the prosecutor?"—I said, "No, I took hold of you and no one.
Cross-examined. Rouse is a term of rescue, I have heard it on several occasions—it is accompanied by cries of "Shame" and "Let him go"—the prosecutor was excited, naturally enough—there were a good many people there, 5,000 or 6,000 in that particular ring—I have seen the prisoner's left hand, I do not think there is much the matter with it—he has not told me that it is partially crippled, nor did I hear it at the police court.
GUILTY .**— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROGERS Prosecuted; MR. RIBTON appeared for Moore, and MR. HUTTON for Webb.
The RECORDER considered that there was no evidence of burglary, and the prisoners
PLEADED GUILTY**.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
MOORE— Sixteen Months' Hard Labour
DAVID JAMES WILLIAMS . I am a labourer, of 6, Market Street—on Thursday night, 7th April, I left the John o'Groat's public-house, Boundary Road, about 12 o'clock, having just got a light for my pipe, in doing which I pushed against the prisoner's wife, and she pushed, me back—I then came out, and the prisoner and his wife came out, and she started calling "Murder"—I went up to him, and asked him to pacify her—he drew his hand up and struck me under the chin; I do not know what with, but I felt blood running down—the prisoner went away, and I went after him, caught hold of him, and gave him in custody—I was unnerved and dazed; I was not intoxicated—the doctor dressed my wound at the station.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I pushed against your wife, but it was accidental; she was rather in the way when I was getting a light.
DAVID DAVIS . I am a tin-plate worker, of 6, Boundary Road—on 7th April I was at the John o'Groat's public-house from 8.30—I believe Williams was there before me—the prisoner and his wife came in later in the evening, and just at 12 o'clock Williams went to get a light, and pushed against the prisoner's wife—she pushed him back, and that caused a scuffle between him and Mr. Williams—they then went outside—I stood by Mr. Williams, and the prisoner's wife halloaed out "Murder"—Williams went up and spoke to the prisoner, and I saw the prisoner strike him a blow, but I did not see any knife—he called out "I am stabbed"—the prisoner ran away; I ran after him and stopped him—he was taken to the station.
HEWSON WALKER (Policeman M 292.) I received information, and found the prosecutor bleeding from a wound in his throat—he said "That man has stabbed me, I will charge him"—I took the prisoner, and on the way to the station he said "Well, it was not meant"—he seemed to have been drinking—the prosecutor was sober—he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. You denied having a knife in your possession—a knife was found in the street, I believe.
GEORGE WATERS (Policeman L.) I received information shortly after 12 o'clock—I went to Boundary Road, and saw a quantity of blood in the middle of the road, and about 30 yards from it I found this knife (produced) open and stained with wet blood—I went to the station, showed it to the prisoner, and told him where I found it—he said "I had no knife."
FREDERICK WILLIAM FARR . I am a surgeon, and assist my father, the surgeon to the L Division—on 8th April early in the morning I was called to the station and examined the prosecutor, and found a clean cut wound on his throat a little below the jaw, on the left side, about seven-eighths of an inch long and three-quarters of an inch deep; it was bleeding freely; it had opened the windpipe to a very slight extent—this knife would cause it, but the blow must have been very forcible—the prisoner did not appear drunk; he was very excited—the prosecutor had been drinking; he was excited; he is quite well now.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that when he went out of the public-house he saw the prosecutor wrangling with his wife, that they sparred together and went down and he got kicked, but he denied using any knife.
DAVID JAMES WILLIAMS (Re-examined.) I had a few words with a whelk man; it was merely chaff; I did not get to high words with him; he is a good-tempered fellow—I did not hear the prisoner say "Don't quarrel about 2d., I will give you 2d.;" I did not tell the prisoner to mind his own business—we both went outside together; I was not outside wrangling with him; we had a little scuffle in the doorway as we came out—I did not follow the prisoner and his wife along the road, only when I went up to speak to the prisoner after his wife had screamed "Murder" and "Police;" she was intoxicated—I did not see her go away to fetch a policeman—I did not see anybody kick him; I did not see him on the ground at all—I did not put up my fists again to him after he got up from the ground.
HEWSON WALKER (Re-examined.) The prisoner made no complaint of violence when the charge was read, but afterwards he said that he had been knocked down and kicked on the head—I saw a mark of blood from the prosecutor on the prisoner's forehead—he did not show me his hat—he made no complaint of violence until he was before the Magistrate—he had a mark on his forehead.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding with great provocation.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 23RD, 1887.