CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
DE KEYSER, MAYOR.
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 17TH, 1888.
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.
STEVENS AND SONS, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
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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,
Held on Monday, September 17th, 1888, and following days.
Before the RIGHT HON. POLYDORE DE KEYSER, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir ARTHUR CHARLES , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir THOMAS DAKIN , Knt., and Sir THOMAS SCAMBLEB OWDEN, Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBEBS, Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the City; Sir HENRY AARON ISAACS , Knt., GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., PHINEAS COWAN , Esq., STUART KNILL , Esq., and WALTER HENRY WILKIN , 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; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
WILLIAM ALPHEUS HIGGS, Esq.,
CENTRAL CRIMININAL COURT
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 he the associates of bad characters—the figures after the names in the indictment denote the pritoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 17th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. FULTON Defended.
Mr. Chilcot being called on his recognizance, and not appearing, and there being, therefore, no evidence of the affidavit being sworn, the Jury, by direction of the Recorder, found a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL for Harris, and MR. HUTTON for Henny.
The prisoners were tried last Session before the Common Serjeant (See page 505) for stealing the goods with which they are charged on the present occasion, and were then acquitted.
THOMAS CANDELL, ARTHUR KELLY, SPENCER HOWARD, HERBERT GEORGE MUSKETT, JOSEPH WERNER PORTEOUS and JOHN MARTIN repeated the evidence give on the last trial. The following witnesses were now examined in addition
GEORGE FREDERICK ROSEVALT . I am housekeeper at 107, Fenchurch Street—in November last Deacon came and took offices there, and carried on business under the style of Deacon and Company—I have frequently seen Harris there with Deacon for November till April—I used to be there on an average once a month and remained there perhaps two or three or four day sometimes—I always saw them in and out of the office together—Deacon gave no notice of his intention to leave, the brokers were put in—they could not pay the rent or my housekeeping bill for 15s. except 5s. off it—the brokers were put in a day or two after Lady Day.
Cross-examined. by MR. FULTON. I believe that the rent had been paid at Christmas.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I went there once a mouth for five months.
Re-examined. I was there for some days at a time.
GEORGE LEMAN . I live at 20, Westcott Street, Bermondsey, and am a porter at 11, Cullum Street—about Lady Day, March, Harris came to 11, Cullum Street, and took some offices there—my master, Mr. Crawley, let them—Harris took this agreement away, and brought it back signed, and after that Harris occupied the room there; he traded under the name of Harris and Company—he gave me as references Thomas Harris, 24, Sandmere Road, Clapham, and C. Deacon, 107, Fenchurch street—I made inquiries there—I asked Deacon if he knew a party of the name of Harris, he asked me what for, I said because he wanted to take offices at 11, Cullum Street, and was he worthy to be trusted—he said, "I have done a great deal of business with Harris," and he mentioned Ludgate Hill, and said, "he has always paid me"—I said, "You can give him a good character, and recommend him?" and he said, "Yes"—after that Harris brought back this document signed, and gave it to Mr. Crawley in my presence.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. The only name I knew him in was Harris.
SIDNEY SELLINGER . On 10th January Deacon and Harris called on me, saying they had been recommended by certain customers I knew to buy some German bronzes—I said "Certainly, you can look at the book and at the patterns, but before you go any further tell me for which market those are"—they told me the London and American markets—I said "These will suit you; I will give you a book and price list, and choose for yourself"—at that first interview Deacon presented Harris to me as his partner—he said "Mr. Harris is my partner"—Harris heard that, and so did a young lady in my employ—I believed that; I had no cause to disbelieve it—in consequence I handed over a book of patterns that they might take it away and select—they sent me an order two or three days afterwards; it was for the Canadian or American market they wanted it—I received this letter on the 11th or 12th from Charles Deacon and Company, returning the book of patterns, with a list of things likely to suit the market—at their first visit they had looked at my stock, and I pointed out things to them—they selected things, between 800l. and 900l., perhaps not quite so much—they took nothing away then—on the 13th I received a further letter, with an order for the bronzes, which would be required by the middle of February, and were to be packed in best pitch paper—when they came next day I said goods for the American market were lined with tin; they said they would take the risk—I received this letter of the 14th, and then on the 16th they called, and left a considerable order for china goods; that was never executed—I had a glass case in my shop with ivory goods—they said "We have a customer over from Toronto, who wishes to purchase such goods"—I said "I tell you what; these goods run into a great deal of money. I know every man worth knowing in Toronto; you had better tell me who he is; I will do business with him, and give you commission"—they mentioned the name of Carter, of Toronto, who is a very good man and worth thousands—I said "You can have the goods on approbation, to be returned to-morrow or the cash"—they agreed—I sent
them the goods the same day; they returned one or two samples they had at the time, and came and said "Our customer does not like them, but wants to look at some more"—I supplied 128l. 19s. worth of goods; some were returned, and that left the goods supplied and never paid for at 108l. 13s. 11d.—they were supplied under my invoice of 18th January, "Bought of Sellinger Brothers; terms, goods on approbation; what sold to be paid; others to be returned on Friday at 8 o'clock"—they should have been returned on 20th January—on the day before that they came and said they wanted more goods for the same customers—on that day I parted with goods of the value of 129l. 11s., and a pair of vases, 20l. to them: "Goods on approbation; what kept to be drawn for at 70 days"—in the meantime they gave me references to two or three firms, and they turned out very satisfactory—I knew nothing of the references; I inquired of them; one was a Limited Liability Company—the goods were parted with on approbation, sale or return; they were never returned—I have never been paid one penny with regard to them—I never executed the large order for china—after they had the goods I went to them, and they gave me a bill at 90 days, payable at Fenchurch Street first—I said I must have it made payable at a bank—I made inquiries, and found they had never had an account at the bank—the bill matured towards the and of April, and came back dishonoured—I received these letters. (The letters contained the passages: "I have not heard this morning from my partner." "The vases are under offer, so I cannot return them." "I shall nut return them until my partner returns. You shall be advised the moment Mr. Harris returns." "I am waiting my partner's return back to town.") I had asked for the vases to be returned—there is a letter of February 15th, signed Harris, on paper headed with the lithographic address of Charles Deacon, 107, Fenchurch Street—up to 15th December I believed the people were in partnership, and that it was a genuine firm—I have since seen my goods at their place—afterwards I had to go into liquidation—it was connected partly, not entirely, with the loss effected in this manner.
Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. The goods we disposed of to Deacon had not been paid for by us at the time, because it was not due—they have been since—the terms of sale were sale or return, that was varied, and I took an acceptance at three months—we did not discount that—Hills and Sons are the bankers—they did not prove against me the amount of the bill in my bankruptcy, but only an overdraft of 52l., which they allowed me to overdraw—the bills never were discounted—I did not try to do 80—I simply deposited them with my bankers for safety's sake, not as security—the vases were returned to me after a great deal of trouble; they said they were not satisfactory, and talked about an action—a group was also returned about 17th or 18th January; they told me their customer did not like it—other goods were sent in substitution on 19th—I had 511l. worth from the makers of the group on approbation; I returned it all.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I had references before I parted with any goods—the fact that Deacon said Harris was his partner did not make me part with my goods—Harris was introduced to me as a man who understood the china fancy trade—he told me he had been to America—this took place in January principally.
after the letter of 15th February I went to 107, Fenchurch Street, about the 16th—I saw Harris there in the office, and had some conversation with him about the goods and about payment—Deacon came in a few minutes afterwards—Harris admitted his liability entirely; he and Deacon together—I had always seen them together—some two or three minutes afterwards Deacon came in, and said, in Harris's hearing." Through the two of you kicking up a bother about these goods you have lost us a very good agency in cigarettes. If you had not done so we should have money out of the cigarettes, and could have paid you."
Deacon and Harris received good characters.
HENNY— NOT GUILTY .
DEACON and HARRIS— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
800. ROBERT PATERSON GIBSON DICK FRAME (21) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a letter containing money and stamps, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post-office — Fifteen Months' Hard labour.
801. HENRY THOMAS BRINKWORTH (27) to two indictments for forging and uttering endorsements to postal orders, and to obtaining postal orders, by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
802. HENRY WILLIS (42) to stealing a post-letter containing cigars and cigar cases, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post-Office.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
803. EDWARD BOUCHER (31) to stealing a post-letter containing 92 stamps, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post-Office.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
to stealing and receiving two coats and other property, the goods of the Great Northern Railway Company, after a conviction of felony at Birmingham, in January, 1882.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 17th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
808. JOHN SULLIVAN* (18) to unlawfully receiving two pairs of boots and one pair of shoes, the property of Muriel Gray, knowing them to have been stolen.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
809. JOSEPH CHARLWOOD** (30) to four indictments for feloniously forging and uttering orders for 3l. 10s., 4l. 10s., 3l. 10s. and 3l. 10s., after a conviction of felony at this Court in November, 1885.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
JOSEPH BASTES (City Policeman 287). On August 3rd, about 1.40 a.m., I was in New Street and heard a crash of glass—I went in that direction and saw two men leaving the the Three Tuns public-house, East Harding Street—I gave chase and saw the prisoner leave the private door of the public-house—I chased him and caught him in Gough Square, 100 yards from the public-house—I said "What have you been doing here?" he said "Nothing," I said "You must come back with me"—I took him to the house and found a large plate glass window smashed, and the door forced at the bottom, as if a heavy body had been forced against it—I called the landlord, he found some difficulty in unbolting' it—if it had not been a very large bolt the door would have been forced open—the plate glass was broken through straining the door—I said to the prisoner "What do you mean by this?" he said, "Nothing, because I laughed you want to bring this on to me," and he laughed again and said "They can't give me much for this"—I took him to the station and on being charged he said that he knew nothing about it, the police-man had made a mistake, meaning me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were running, but you stopped—the door only opens inwards, and there is only one bolt at the top—I saw you leave the doorway, but the door is in a recess of three feet.
WILLIAM HURST . I keep the Three Tuns, Great New Street, it is my dwelling-house—I went round at 11.30 and saw that my private bar was closed, it was bolted at the top and the glass was perfectly sound—I was called up about 2 o'clock and found the door pushed in 2 inches from the bottom, and in trying to spring the door they broke the glass—there was property in the bar.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not on the side when the glass was broken at all. I do not think a man can swear to me at 100 yards distance.
GUILTY . **— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 18th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
811. WALTER FREDERICK GRAINGER (21) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, two letters containing post-office orders, the property of Her Majesty'sPostmaster-General — Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
HENRY JAMES GRANGE . I am an ironmonger at Uxbridge—on 28th July I drew this cheque for 11l. 18s. in favour of Messrs. Messenger, to order, and crossed—I enclosed it with a statement of account, in a letter addressed to Messrs. Messenger, of Loughborough—I put it with others in a rack for the purpose of being posted—I subsequently received a communication from Messrs. Messenger, and communicated with the Post-office authorities.
Grange—I usually post the letters—on the evening of 28th July I took from the rack the letters there, and posted them all.
WALTER CHAPMIN BURDER . I am a member of the firm of Messenger and Co., of Loughborough—Mr. Grange is one of our customers—the endorsement on this cheque is not the handwriting of any member of our firm—the cheque never reached us.
ARTHUR MARKHAM . I am a bicycle manufacturer, of 345, Edgware Road—I know the prisoner—about 1st August he came to me for the purpose of purchasing a safety bicycle—he looked at several, and eventually selected one, price 8l.—he asked me whether I would take a cheque—I said I did not quite care to take a cheque from a stranger, but he said he had had dealings with me before—I did not remember him—I asked him if he would allow me to pay the cheque into the bank before I delivered the goods—he said "Certainly"—I asked him who he was—I don't think he told me his name—he said he was employed at Hayes's, and that his master had given him the cheque in payment for work which he had done—he did not tell me who his master was—I asked him to endorse the cheque; he did so as it is now—he then went away, leaving the cheque—about two days afterwards I wrote to him, telling him that he could have the bicycle if he chose to call—he did come and took away the bicycle, and I gave him the difference between the price of the bicycle and the amount of the cheque—a few days afterwards the cheque came back—I afterwards saw the prisoner at West Drayton, and pointed him out to a constable—I afterwards saw my bicycle, and identified it.
FREDRICK WILLIAM WOODER . I am a confidential clerk in the Inquiry branch of the General Post-office—in consequence of information I went to West Drayton Railway Station with Mr. Markham, who pointed out the prisoner to me—I said to him "What is your name?"—he replied "Henry Thomas Partridge"—I said "I belong to the General Post Office, and this is Mr. Markham, a bicycle manufacturer, of Edgware Road; he has identified you as the man who tendered this cheque in payment of a bicycle"—he replied "A safety roadster bicycle"—I said "Then you admit that you took this cheque to the shop?"—he replied "Yes"—I said "Where did you get it?"—he said "It was given to me by a gentleman from the Great Western Station at West Drayton on the day that I went into London to buy the bicycle"—I said "Do you know this gentleman?"—he said "Certainly not, quite a stranger to me"—I said "Is this the only cheque you have received from him?"—he replied "No, one more from the same gentleman"—I said "What did you do with that?"—he said "I bought the same thing, a bicycle, at Ealing"—I said "Have you received anything else from this gentleman?"—he said "Yes, postal-orders"—I said "What did you do with them?"—he said "I changed them for him"—I said "What became of the money?"—he said "I handed him the money back"—I produced another cheque for 3l. and the postal-order, which I said had been stolen from letters passing through the post, and fraudulently negotiated, and I said "Are they signed by you?"—he examined them and said "Yes," they are signed in different names—I asked him why he signed different names—he said "I did as I was ordered"—I said "What did you get for changing the cheques and postal-orders?"—he said "He gave me sometimes little or much"—I asked him where the bicycles were—he said "At home."
ALFRED HEWENS . I am an ironmonger at Ealing—on 26th May I drew, this cheque for 3l. 10s. 5d. in favour of T. Turner and Co., to order, and crossed—I enclosed it with a statement of account in a letter addressed to T, Turner, Suffolk Works, Sheffield—I posted the letter myself at the Uxbridge head post-office about half-past 7 in the evening—I subsequently received a communication from Turner and Co., and they communicated with the post-office.
THOMAS BRLANT . I am a bicycle maker at Uxbridge-Road, Ealing—the prisoner presented this cheque for 3l. 10s. 5d. to me in payment for a bicycle, the bicycle was afterwards shown to me by the police—I gave the prisoner 1s. 5d., the difference between the bicycle and the cheque—the endorsement was on the cheque when presented—he gave the name of Turner.
The prisoner in his defence alleged that the cheques and orders were given to him at different times by a stranger to cash, who paid him for his trouble.
GUILTY . — Judgment Respited.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
LYDIA COLLINS . I am the wife of William Collins, the postmaster at Belsize Park Terrace, on the afternoon of 22nd August, between 3 and 4 o'clock, the elder prisoner came into the office and asked for two postage stamps—she gave me a half-crown, and I gave her in change 2s. 4d. and two stamps—the younger prisoner was standing on the mat by the door at the time—as soon as the elder prisoner had got the change she went to the door, came back almost directly and told me that I had given her 1s. 4d. change instead of 2s. 4d.—I said, "I gave you 2s. and 4d.—she said I had only given her 1s., 4d., she put the coins on the counter—she had a small bag in her hand, I asked her to turn it out, which she did—I was positive that I had given her 2s. 4d.—there were several people in the shop; I was two assistants short in the shop at the time, and in order to get rid of her I gave her another shilling.
Christine Fisher My sister was not on the mat, she was outside.
Witness. She was on the mat just inside the door.
Harriet Fisher. I did not know what my sister was doing, I was not inside the shop.
WILLIAM CRANE (Policeman S 167). On 22nd August, my attention was called to these two girls, I followed them—I saw them go into the Post-office kept by Collins—when Christine went up to the counter, Harriet stood on the door-mat, Christine came and met her on the mat, something was said between them and something passed—Christine then went back to the counter—they came away and walked together—I followed them, and saw them go into a cornchandler's, after they came out I went in and made inquiries, and again followed them—Christine went into a chemist's, Harriet remained by the door on the mat—I watched
closely to see what they did—I saw Christine come to the door and meet Harriet on the mat, and bring this two-shillingpiece to Harriet, who was carrying this empty purse, Christine put the two-shillingpiece in it, and then turned round and went back to Mr. Humphries, and said something about the change being short, but I could not hear it, I saw Mr. Humphries give her a second two-shillingpiece—she then came out, rejoined her sister and went on together—I followed them up the road and spoke to Sergeant Trafford, and stopped the prisoners—I told them they had been concerned together in stealing 2s. from Mr. Humphries, and 1s. at the Swiss Cottage Post-office, at Spiers and Pond's railway tavern, and also at Collins' in Belsize Park Terrace—Christine begged to be forgiven, she said "Don't take me to the police station, take me back to the chemist's shop, I will give up all the money I have got, but don't take me to the police station"—Harriet said "It is the first time I have been out with my sister"—Christine had a hand-bag, which contained 5s. 6d. in silver. 7d. in bronze, and eight penny postage stamps—Harriet had a small purse containing the two-shillingpiece.
EDWARD TRAFFORD (Police Sergeant S 67). I apprehended Harriet, and said "You must come too"—she said "What is it all about?"—on going to the station, she said "She asked me to come out with her this morning, and she told me what she was going to do"—she also said "Oh, what would my father think if he saw a policeman having hold of my sister's arm?"
RICHARD HUMPHRIES . I am a pharmaceutical chemist, at 12, Upper Belsize Terrace—on the afternoon of 22nd August the elder prisoner came in and asked for twopennyworth of liquorice, and gave me a half-crown—I gave her in change a florin and four penny pieces—she went to the door, and came back almost instantly, and said "You have given me the wrong change"—I assured her I had not, but she stuck out that I had, and as a matter of politeness I handed her two separate shillings more—I did not notice the younger prisoner till she was brought in by the constable.
ALICE TAYLOR . I am manageress at Spiers and Pond's Restaurant, at the Swiss Cottage—on 22nd August the elder prisoner came there, asked for a glass of milk, and put 2s. down—I gave her 1s. 6d. and 4d. change—she drank the milk and went half way across the road, then came back, and said I had only given her 6d. and 4d.—I felt certain that I had given it to her, and asked her to look on the floor—she pretended to look—I said "Has it got into your bag?"—she said "I only had the 2s."—she opened the bag, and two stamps tumbled out—I said "It is very funny; I feel certain you had 1s. 6d. and 4d.—in the result I gave her another shilling—I did not see the other prisoner at all—shortly afterwards the witness Hutchins came in.
HENRY COLES . I am a telegraphist in the Swiss Cottage Branch of the General Post-Office—on the afternoon of 22nd August the prisoner Christine came and asked for two stamps, and tendered a half-crown—I gave her them, and two separate shillings, a threepenny-piece, and two halfpence change—she took up the money and walked towards the door, then immediately turned round, and said "You have only given me 1s. 4d.," showing me one shilling, a threepenny-piece, and two halfpence—I apologised to her, and gave her another shilling, I thought possibly
I had made a mistake—I afterwards examined my cash, and found I was short.
ALFRED HUTCHINS . I am clerk in charge at the Swiss Cottage Post-office—on the day in question I saw the prisoner Christine leaving the shop—being suspicious I went outside and watched her; I saw her waiting outside the shop next door—the younger prisoner was inside the shop—I went into a booking-office and watched—I saw the elder prisoner go into the restaurant—after she came out I went and made inquiry—I then followed them, met a policeman, and gave them into custody—on the way to the station the elder prisoner said "I know I have done wrong; I will give you all the money if you won't take me to the station."
Christine's Defence. At the time I took the money I did not mean to do it. I lost some money. I met a young man, and he told me what to do. I did not mean to steal the money; I was quite mad at the time; my sister knew nothing about it. Give me another chance for my parents' sake, and I will lead a better life.
Harriet's Defence. I did not do anything wrong; I don't know why I should come to a place like this.
CHRISTINE— GUILTY .
HARRIET— NOT GUILTY .
The prisoner Christine PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction of a like offence at Edmonton, in May, 1887.
Her father undertook to send her to Frankfort, her native place, where she would be taken care of.—Two Days' Imprisonment.
815. WALTER THOMPSON* (20) to stealing a purse and 3l. 16s. 1 1/2 d., the goods and money of Robert Hart, from the person of Theresa Hart, after a conviction of felony in July, 1887, in the name of Walter Brown.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
816. WILLIAM GYSEMAN (17) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Richard Roberts, and stealing a purse, a watch, and 4s. 4d., after a conviction to felony in October, 1887, and EDWARD THOROGOOD (27) to receiving that property; Gyseman [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] also pleaded guilty to burglary in the dwelling-house of James John Jagelman, and stealing two coats and other articles, and Thorogood to receiving the same.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.
She received a good character.— Ten Days' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
819. CHARLOTTE ORMSTON to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of money; and also to obtaining money from various persons by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
NEW COURT—Tuesday September 18th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
822. JAMES SMITH and CHARLES BURTON, Unlawfully assaulting Lavinia Caroline Wright, with intent to ravish her. Other Counts, For assaulting Frank Saville and William Wilson, police officers, in the execution of their duty.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted; MR. THORNE COLE Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT—Wednesday, September 19th, 1888.
Before Mr. Justice Charles.
823. RUTH NEWMAN (21) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child. She was stated to have always borne a very respectable character, and Mr. Wheatley , the Secretary to St. Giles'S Christian Mission, undertook to place her in the care of her mother.—To enter into her own recognisances in 50l. to come up for judgment if called upon. She was also charged, upon the Coroner's Inquisition, with the murder of the said child, but the Grand Jury having ignored the bill, no evidence was offered on the Inquisition, and a verdict of
NOT GUILTY was returned.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. TICKELL Defended.
ROBERT HOUGH . I live at 125, Judd Street—the prisoner with her husband lodged with me for about four mouths—the deceased child Frank was born shortly before they came to our place, and was then about a month old—I have often seen the prisoner attending to it; I saw her every day—on 8th August I saw her with the child in her arms—she seemed rational then; she had not seemed rational for some time previously—I noticed it particularly on 21st June—she would knock the top of her head, and say "It is here" without any apparent meaning—on 7th August, at supper, she came into the kitchen, and said They have all gone to bed"—my wife said "Mr. Reynolds, too?"—the prisoner clutched her by the wrist, and said "What do you know about Mr. Reynolds?"—on 9th August I was awoke about 5 o'clock in the morning by a loud knocking upstairs—I went up, and saw Mr. Reynolds supporting his wife, and he asked me to go for a doctor—he told me that the child was dead—I fetched Dr. Smith, and ho attended to the prisoner and looked at the child.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has three children living; they were with her in the house—she has behaved very kindly to them; she was an affectionate mother in every way; she never neglected the baby—shortly before her confinement she broke two of her ribs—her husband was discharged from his employment; they had some difficulties with
the landlord, and they had to move just about the time of her confinement.
SIDNEY LLOYD SMITH I am a registered medical practitioner in Argyll Square Kind's Cross—on August 9th, about 5 o'clock the morning, I was sent for to 125, Judd Street—I found the prisoner sitting on a bed in her room, the child was lying outside the bed, dead—it was about five months old—I examined the body, there was a bruise beneath the chin and a round bruise just above the windpipe, and three abrasions of the skin on the right side of the neck—the child appeared to have been well cared for, it was cleanly and well nourished—the prisoner was sitting on the edge of the bed—I spoke to her several times without her taking the slightest notice; her hands were clasped, her eyes shut and she was swaying herself backwards and forwards—she never opened her eyes or spoke at all—I touched her on the shoulder, she opened her eyes and looked at me, stared round the room again, closed her eyes and commenced swaying backwards and forwards, but made no answer—I again pressed her, and she said in a low voice disjointedly, "I clutched the baby round the neck and found it was dead," and she at once relapsed into the swaying backwards and forwards—I found the marks of a hand all round the prisoner's neck on the right side, and there was a hole which looked as if made with a pair of scissors, and in front of the throat a lot of scratches as if done by a blunt knife, and two large bruises at the back of the head—those bruises might have been caused by herself using a hammer—I saw the hammer and scissors there—I formed the opinion at that time that she was insane, that she did not know the nature and quality of the act she had done—she did not seem to understand or appreciate the nature and quality of the act she had done—I had her removed to the Royal Free Hospital—I afterwards made a post-mortem of the child—I found it had died from suffocation, I think one of the marks on the neck was done by the fingers and one by the thumb.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had called upon me about a month previous, about the vaccination of this very baby; she appeared most anxious about it; she would not allow me to vaccinate it from another child, but from the calf—that arose from her extreme consideration for the child—I arranged to get some calf lymph, but meanwhile this happened-from what I saw of her, I formed the opinion that at that time she was insane—I came to that conclusion from her previous history that I got from her husband, also from the fact of this coming on during the time of suckling—there is a well—recognised form of insanity which comes on then, it is a form of puerperal mama—this was about five months alter her confinement—her milk had not been flowing quite freely just before this, and she had a lot of trouble—she had three broken ribs, followed by inflammation of the lungs, and six days after her confinement her husband lost his situation—she was suffering from a great deal of trouble.
JOHN JUDGE (Policeman E 116). On August 9th I went to 125, Judd Street, and accompanied the prisoner from there to the hospital, and remained there on the 9th, 10th, and 11th—I observed her on those days; she was very peculiar in her ways and what she was saying now and again, she did not seem to understand what she was saying—at
10 o'clock on August 11th, she made a statement to me—she said, "I killed my baby, I put a handkerchief round its neck and squeezed it, I was loving it, I don't know what I did it for; my husband was asleep, and I took the hammer, striking my head with it, and that woke him up," and without making a pause she said, "Oh, look, the ceiling is falling," and immediately afterwards she said there were butterflies flying about the ward, and wanted me to catch some—on other occasions she was under the delusion that dogs were on her bed, and that her children were crying in the ward—at other times she would catch hold of my hand and declare that I was her husband—on August 11th at 2 o'clock I received a warrant from the Coroner for her apprehension, and I then removed her from the hospital to the House of Detention—prior to removing her I read the warrant to her—she did not understand a word that I was saying—afterwards I took her to Bow Street and then to the House of Detention.
ELLEN GILKS . I am a nurse at the Royal Free Hospital—the prisoner was under my charge there while I was on night duty—on Saturday, the 11th, about 5.30, she got out of bed and took a knife from the next patient's locker, and attempted to cut her own throat—I tried to take the Knife away from her, and she ran past me and got another knife—I threw her on the floor, and got it from her; she did not make any statement to me—after talking quite sensibly she would jump out of bed and ask for her husband.
SOPHY JENSON . The prisoner was under my care at the Royal Free Hospital during the day—she had delusions—for some time she refused to take food—she slept very little—I formed the opinion that she was of unsound mind.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am surgeon to Her Majesty's Gaol, Holloway—the prisoner was under my constant observation there from the 11th August—she was suffering from delusions when she came, and in my opinion was of unsound mind—she was not in a condition to know the nature of the act she had committed—after some time the delusions passed away—she was brought to me with a letter stating that she was violent in the hospital; that drew my attention to her—she was under the delusion that her husband was then in the ward—she was sleepless and restless, and complaining very much of her head—she improved, and is perfectly rational now, so as to know the nature of the present proceedings.
SUSAN DEVERELL I live at 1, Cloudesley Street, Liverpool Road—the prisoner is my sister—I saw her on 7th August; she was very strange in her manner; quite different to what she was before—she complained of a very burning pain at the top of her head—I asked her to go to a doctor with me—she made no answer—she stayed with me 10 minutes—I asked her how the children were—she made no answer—she has three children living—she is a very kind mother—I never heard any complaint of her neglecting them—she told me that she broke her ribs a fortnight before her confinement, and about the same time her husband lost his situation, and the landlord gave them notice to quit, and they had to leave; that was a great trouble to her.
GUILTY of the act, being insane at the time. Ordered to be detained as a criminal lunatic until Her Majesty's pleasure be known .
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
THOMAS EMANUEL WOOLRIDGE . I am a licensed victualler, at Iverheath, Bucks—I was the owner of a rick of hay that was standing in a held by the side of the road in the parish of Hillingdon—I employed the prisoner to cut it and tie it into bundles—he commenced work on Monday morning, 13th August—he cut about a load and a-half—on the 15th I received some information and went to the rick—I saw it in flames, and a constable had the prisoner in custody—he said "This man is accused of setting fire to this rick, will you give him in charge?"—I said "Yes, if he has fired the rick"—I did not say anything to the prisoner—the value of the rick was 30l., and 20l. worth was destroyed—the fire was put out—I afterwards examined the inside—the fire could not have occurred from spontaneous combustion—the fire originated from outside—I had had no quarrel with the prisoner—he had no animosity against me, unless others had created animosity about the rick—there are a lot of men who buy ricks of hay, and I outbid some of them and bought it.
MARY ANN COLLINS . I am the wife of Henry Collins, and live at Cowley Mill Road, Hillingdon—my bedroom window overlooks the field in which this rick was—on the morning of 15th August, between 10 and 11, I saw the prisoner go by my window—I did not notice where he went, but a few moments afterwards I heard a loud talking, and Hooked out and saw him leaning on the bridge—he walked down the road, and went in at the gate leading to the field—he went where the rick was, put his hand in his pocket, and pulled something out, and as he turned from the rick it smoked and fiamed up—I went downstairs and told the people—the prisoner did not go away; he stayed there till he was taken—he did not try to put it out—he said "Let the b——thing burn; it is well insured"—I told him it must have been him that set it on fire, as there was no one else there at the time—he only laughed at me.
JOHN CATT . I am a licensed victualler, and live at Iverheath—on 15th August, about 10, I was going to Uxbridge—I saw the rick; it appeared to have been just set alight at the out end; the flames were about a yard high—the prisoner was standing a few yards away; I did not speak to him—I drove to the station and gave information.
WILLIAM BROOK (Policeman X 68). I went to the rick, and told the prisoner he would be charged with wilfully and maliciously setting it on fire—he said "I suppose if you say so it is all right"—I said I thought it might be put out—he said "No, it cannot; let the b——thing burn—I searched him at the station, and found several lucifers in his pockets—he said nothing. GUILTY . — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.
GEORGE COOK . I live at 20, Cavendish Street, New North Road—the prisoner was lodging in my house—she lived alone in the second floor back room—on 31st July, about half-past 10, I heard a cry of "Fire"—I went upstairs, and saw the prisoner being held by the arm by Mr.
Berry outside her own room door—I looked inside the room, and saw a heap of cardboard boxes, such as were used by the prisoner in her work, saturated a great deal by water, and the wainscoting was all scorched to the extent of about 4 feet—I can't say that I smelt anything—I gave the prisoner in charge.
HARRIET BUSBY . I lodge in the same house as the prisoner—I occupied the second floor front room—she lodged in the next room to me—about half-past 10 I felt as though she meant doing something; I could not sleep—I saw a strong glare of light under my door—I gently opened it and went outside—she had a pile of boxes just inside her room covered with paraffin—I screamed "Fire," and roused the other inmates—she was coming out of her room with her purse in her hand—she was dressed; I was undressed—I was almost suffocated by the smell of the paraffin—I called out "Fire," and said "Oh, the beast has set the house on fire"—I did not say anything to her—I am sure it was paraffin—there was a quart tin close by—the prisoner had threatened she would set the house on fire; plenty of us heard it; she did not say anything to me—she constantly kept tapping the wall; I dreaded my life.
WILLIAM BEKRY . I live in this house—I was aroused by the cry of the last witness—I went upstairs just as I was—when I got on the landing I saw the reflection of flames—I went up three stairs at a time—I saw some pieces of card—the last witness threw some water on it and scattered it about; I partly put it out—I saw the prisoner in her room when I went up—I gave her in charge.
DANIEL JOHNSTONE (Policeman C 298). I went to the house on this night; I went up to the second floor room, and saw the remains of a heap of burnt cardboard smouldering; it smelt very strongly of paraffin oil—the wainscot was scorched about four feet, and the ceiling was blackened with smoke—I took the prisoner into custody—next day I saw a quart can containing paraffin, and placed it on the table—the prisoner said at the station "I would not have done it if this man's wife had not used threats towards me," pointing out Cook—she was sober—she had the appearance of having been drinking.
EMMA COOK . I am the wife of George Cook, who keeps the house—the prisoner has been lodging with us 17 weeks—she had been drinking for a month and two days—the night before the fire she kept us awake shrieking—I called in a policeman—she was sitting for two hours and a-half with her legs out of the back on Monday, and she said "You don't think I will do it, but when you are all in bed at night I will set the place on fire," but I did not think she would do it.
GUILTY . — Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. DREWITT Defended.
PETER BLACK . I am a draughtsman, and live at Canterbury Terrace, Kilburn—I was formerly in the same employment as the prisoner—on 10th April and 17th June I received two letters from him; the matters contained in them were pure delusions on his part—I have not made any statements detrimental to him, except complaining to the manager about his using bad language to me—on the night of 10th August, about 6.30, I was at home—I heard a knock at the door—the prisoner came into my
room—he used disgusting language, and was in a very excited state; he had his hand behind him—he said "What did you tell the manager? I will go and ask him"—he then pulled his arm from behind him, and said "I will cut your throat"—he had a knife in his hand—he made a cut at me; I put out my left hand to stop it, and got cut in the hand—I caught him by the wrist, and struggled with him for some time, calling "Murder" and "Held"—my landlady came and fetched assistance, and the police came.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner's writing—these letters (produced) are all his writing—we were about 10 years together in the same employment—about four or five years ago he had an illness—I have not had any communication in consequence of my complaints to the manager; it was in consequence of slackness of work.
ELIZABETH STEVENSON . On the night of 10th August I heard a violent knocking at the door; I opened it, and the prisoner rushed rapidly past me and went up to Mr. Black's room—a few minutes afterwards I heard a violent struggle, and then cries of "Murder"—I went up and saw the two men struggling—I said "What are you doing?"—the prisoner said he would kill him—I went and called for assistance, and the police came.
WILLIAM MULLER . I am divisional surgeon—I was called to see the prosecutor—he had a back-handed wound on the finger of the left hand, such as might be caused by turning the knife in the opposite direction it was not a dangerous wound; it was on the bone.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not use the knife, nor did I use my hands. "
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHANNA ROSS CAMERON . I am the wife of John Cameron—on 12th January the prisoner took rooms at our house—he told me not to talk loud, as the people were listening outside the window—I closed the window, and said I did not see anybody there—I went out, and when I came back he seemed rather excited—his manner an demeanour was strange—about a week afterwards I saw a light in his window, and he sprang out of bed and appeared to fight somebody; there was nobody there—he said that a man followed him, and that a lot of women wanted to blackmail him—he said he went to the curate of All Saints', and had an interview with him on Sunday morning before 8 o'clock, and he has also made a communication to the police about the man—when he went out at the front door he looked behind him, crossed the road, and looked right and left to see that nobody was behind, that was his general practice—he said if he read there was a man who repeated all he said, and that he could not continue writing unless he wrote in French—he said he screamed aloud to send the man away, and he gave a terrible yell to show me how—he wandered about his room, and made loud noises, pulled the things about, and broke lamp glasses—he seemed as if he was fighting the room, and knocking things down—he used to put his head out of window, and make these noises—one Sunday when we were out he put something round my little child's throat, and nearly
choked her—since then I have not left her alone in the house—I asked him why he did not go to work—he said he could not, as this man pursued him—he was not visited by anybody—he paid his rent, and went on lodging with us—he did nothing all the time.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am surgeon at Holloway Prison—I have recently had the prisoner under my observation, I consider him insane—he is subject to many delusions, that he is followed about by a gang of persons, talking to him and suggesting things about sodomy, about a man named Black—whenever he reads, he hears what he is reading uttered by voices, and if an idea passes through his head these voices repeat his thoughts, and he is generally restless, sleepless, and talkative—I have seen letters of his which contain statements corresponding to his statements to me—I have only seen him for the last week or 10 days, during my absence my assistant saw him, and he talked in the same way to him.
GUILTY of the act, being insane at the time. Ordered to he detained until Her Majesty's pleasure he known.
NEW COURT—Wednesday, September 19th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
828. FRANK MORTIMER REDDINGTON CASEY (48) PLEADED GUILTY to robbery, without violence, on James Dunbar Lyall Watson, and stealing a bag and forty-two bonds, and 190 railway shares and a cheque for 763l. 3s. 6d., the property of Leslie Willson and others.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted: MR. PURCELL Defended. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
830. JOHN SNOW (34) and HENRY MASSEY (47) , Stealing two boxes of sultanas and other articles, the goods of Edward William Lamer and others, their masters, and PETER GODDARD (60) , Receiving the same. Other Counts for stealing and receiving other goods.
GEORGE SEAGER . I am superintendent of the warehouse of Messrs. Harrisson and Larner, of Philpot Lane; they have another warehouse at 37a, Eastcheap, where Snow was foreman, and Massey under-foreman—it was Snow's duty to see that the goods sent out were those in the order-book—I know nothing of Goddard—on September 4th, I returned from dinner a little earlier than usual, and saw Snow going from Philpot Lane warehouse, carrying two boxes of sultanas—he went into Mr. Eagle's, 1, Philpot Lane, which is a booking office for Carter, Paterson and Co.—I went in and missed two boxes of sultanas marked T.G.G. and M.K.—I then went to Mr. Eagle's and recognised the two boxes and took this label off (produced)—I showed it to my superiors and then went back and put it on again—it is in Massey's writing—no
order had been given for those boxes of sultanas to my knowledge—I saw at the Mansion House another parcel of rice and oatmeal addressed to Goddard in Massey's writing—I picked up this piece of paper (produced) in the warehouse about six weeks ago, it is in Massey's writing.
Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. The firm used to be W. Harrisson and Co.—I do not know when the name was changed—we occasionally send goods by Carter, Paterson, and Co.
Cross-examined by Snow. I believe Sleeman is foreman at 37, Eastcheap—I was taken away from that warehouse and sent to Philpot Lane, and I came back and stayed about seven weeks—you were not foreman then, and you had no opportunity of sending goods away without my knowing it—that was at the beginning of April.
WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Police Sergeant). On 4th September I went to Mr. Eagle's premises, and saw two boxes of sultanas and a parcel addressed to"—Goddard, Esq., Bourk Road, Wood Green," and the next afternoon I saw these boxes and the parcel delivered at Wood Green—Goddard received one box and the parcel from Carter, Paterson, and Co.'s carman—I told him I was a detective sergeant, and came about those parcels which were by his side—he made no reply—I asked him again, and he asked me if I had any card—I showed him my warrant card—he said "I don't think it is any business of yours, and I shan't tell you"—I said "If you don't give me a satisfactory account of how you became possessed of those goods I shall take you in custody for receiving them knowing them to be stolen"—he made no reply—I asked him if he had the invoice—he said "Yes"—I asked him how much he had given for them—he did not answer—he took some slips of paper from his pocket—I said "These do not refer to these goods at all; you will be charged with receiving these goods well knowing them to be stolen," and asked him who he received them from—he said "From Carter, Paterson's"—I said "I know that; I want to know from whom you bought them"—he made no answer, and I took him in custody—it was a private house—there is a stable and coach-house in the back yard, where there was a quantity of fruit and spices, which I showed to one of the prosecutors' buyers—we have a list of them; among them were 8 lb of cloves, a parcel with blue pencil writing on it, 7 lb. of ginger, 19 lb. of ginger, two parcels of tea, 6 lb. each, a 2 lb. tin of ground nutmegs, four sacks with the prosecutors' initials, and two bags—I searched Goddard at the station, and found three cards marked A, B, and C, and addressed to "C. Wren, at Goddard's, at Wood Green"—I saw no one named Wren there, only Goddard—I also found on Goddard three cards marked E, F, and G, containing lists of goods with prices, such as 6 lb. tea and 56lb. tapioca—on a subsequent search at Goddard's house I brought away six empty bags and 38 large papers, in which samples had been done up; there were a great many more there—on 5th September I went to Snow's house with Mr. Lamer, and said I had called respecting two boxes of sultanas which had been taken from the warehouse yesterday—he said "I know nothing about that; I will tell you the truth; I did take them; I went yesterday and saw Massey, and he asked me to bring the boxes out"—Mr. Lamer said "You know very well neither you or Massey have a right to take parcels out in that way"—he said "I am very sorry"—I said "There was also a large brown
paper parcel yesterday sent to Carter, Paterson's, containing 281b. of rice and 28 lb. of oatmeal"—he said "Yes, I took that out myself"—I took him to the station—I found on Snow a card similar to that found on Goddard, and I think it is the same writing—I went to the office next morning, and told Massey to put his coat on and come out—I told him I was a detective sergeant, and came to speak to him about the sultanas which he let go from Philpot Lane the day before yesterday—he said that he knew nothing about it—I said "Goddard and Snow are in custody, and Snow states that you asked him to take two boxes out for him, and the labels are in your writing"—he said "Snow came to me the day before, and asked me to write the labels for him"—I took him to the station—before he was searched he tore a card up and threw the pieces on the floor—I picked them up and pasted them together; it was "Mr. C. Wren, Sussex House, Brook Lane, Wood Green," the same address as is on the other label—Snow said at the Mansion House "Massey introduced me to Goddard about March last, and Massey and I went to Goddard's house and had a drive; I have had dealings with him about a dozen times; I took out for him the parcel I took out for myself."
Cross-examined by Snow. You said that you took it out; Mr. Larner was there and heard you.
Cross-examined by MR. MEAD. Goddard was formerly a grocer there—he has been at these premises about four years—I found a stable at the back, which was used for storing the goods—Mr. Wren did live on the premises, but I did not see his name up—the goods were delivered by daylight—there was no writing on the wrappers; we brought them away: they had no grocery in them, but there were a few small samples—I said "If you don't give me a satisfactory account of how you came in possession of the goods I shall take you in custody."
Re-examined. I am informed that Wren is a blacksmith.
MARSON BUTTERFIELD . I am buyer to the prosecutors—the rice and oatmeal delivered to Goddard were got at the office where Snow was foreman—there is no entry of them in the books—several of these cards with lists of goods on them are in Snow's writing; "E, F, and G" are all his—the prices marked on them are about one-third of the wholesale prices—the proper price of the 14 lb. of nutmegs, put down at 14s., would be 50s.—I do not know Massey's writing—I went to Goddard's premises, and saw the goods found there—the cloves had Snow's writing on them in blue pencil, "8 lb. at 6d."—that is only two-thirds of the proper price—I identified a 7-lb. tin of ginger as ours, and this 6-lb. packet of tea is exactly similar to ours—I identified a paper containing a tin of nutmegs, and four sacks and two bags, with the mark of our firm.
Cross-examined by Snow. Every house keeps this class of goods.
I am one of this firm—I was present when Snow made the statement to Wright—he said to me that he was not aware that he had done anything, and then he said "I am sorry to say I did take two boxes yesterday."
Snow's Defence. I told the prosecutor I took the two boxes of sultanas, and sent the parcel by Carter, Paterson's, but there is not a particle of evidence to prove that I stole any of the other goods—everything was entered in the stook-book, which has not been produced.
Massey's Defence. There is not a particle of evidence against me about the spice or rice.
Goddard received a good character.
GUILTY . — Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September 20th, 1888.
Before Mr. Justice Charles
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and GOODING Defended.
MARIA BRIGHT . I live at 25, Church Street, Islington—the prisoner is my husband—I have been married to him eight years and a-half—I had five children by him—on the night of 18th May we went to bed as vsual—we had a few words—he called me fearful names—up to Easter we had been very happy and comfortable, then he seemed very strange in his manner—he complained a great deal of his head—he consulted Dr. Stevens—one week he said he could not work—on the morning of the 19th May he got up at his usual time, about 6.30, and proceeded as if he was going to his work—he had pretty well dressed, and he kissed me and said "Good morning" as usual—he asked me to come down to the shop and meet him—he is a blacksmith—I said I would meet him—I said "Shall I come down straight to the shop?"—he said, "No, stop at Old Street comer, and I will see you there"—I said "All right"—up to that time there had been no words between us—I then laid down on my bed to rest—he was walking about the room, and I felt a blow at the back of my head, and I do not remember anything more—he seemed quite sober over night—I was taken to the hospital, and then to the infirmary, where I was confined on 18th July—I beg of you to be as lenient as you can to my husband.
Cross-examined. About a fortnight after Easter he went and saw a doctor about his state of mind—I wished him to go; he had been sleeping very badly—he started up in the night, and said he saw faces in the room; I think that was a week before this occurred—he was very strange the day the doctor was fetched to him, he did not seem to know in the least what he was doing—he called me fearful names, raving dreadfully without any cause—he was under a delusion with regard to me, thinking cruelly that I had done something that I had not done, and he was very violent both in his actions and words—up to that time he was very good and kind as a husband and father—I heard his mother say something about two cousins in a lunatic asylum, but I do not know it—he drank a great deal during the winter months, but he was not a drunkard as a rule.
morning, about 6.30, I was in my bedroom nursing my baby—I heard some one run downstairs very fast, and directly afterwards I heard Mrs. Bright call out "Oh, dear"—I put my baby down, and went up to her at once—I asked her what was the matter—she made no reply—she was sitting up in bed, and blood was flowing from her head—there was no one else in the room; the children slept in the back room—I saw a hatchet on the bed—this (produced) is it—the pillows and bedding were covered with blood—I ran to Mrs. Markham, who lived in the parlour and kitchen—a doctor was fetched, and Mrs. Bright was taken to St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I had seen the prisoner the previous evening, between 5 and 6 o'clock, coming up the stairs.
ANN MARKHAM . I now live at 29, Church Street—at this time I lived on the ground floor of 25—about 6.30 I was in bed; heard some one coming quickly downstairs, and leave the house—Mrs. Minchin came to me, and I went upstairs into the room where Mrs. Bright was—I saw her with blood on her—I had known the prisoner two years—I never saw him the worse for drink—since Easter he has been very strange—he behaved very cruelly to his wife at Easter—it was about that time that he consulted Dr. Stevens.
Cross-examined. I did not notice a wild expression in his eyes; his manner was strange—he did strange things—he would beat her and knock her about without any cause.
SIDNEY PEDLEY MORRIS . I am a surgeon, in Percy Circus, Clerkenwell—on the Saturday morning, about 8 o'clock, I was called to 25, Church Street, where I saw Mrs. Bright—she was suffering from a very serious wound at the back of the head—it was a depressed fracture of the skull—I had her removed at once to St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I saw this hatchet at the time; it had stains of blood on it, and hair.
HENRY JOHN MANNING WATTS . I was house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—about 8.45 on Saturday morning, 19th May, Mrs. Bright was brought there—she was then in a collapsed condition—she had three large scalp wounds on the back of the head, and three smaller wounds; the bone was laid bare in three places; in one place the skull was depressed—a piece of the bone, the size of a penny piece, was chipped off—in another part it was necessary to perform the operation of trepanning—she remained under my care till the 14th of Juno, being then pregnant—she was sent to the infirmary, and there taken care of—I have not seen her since.
GEORGE TAFT (Policeman N 445). On Saturday night, 19th May, about 10 o'clock, I saw the prisoner at 24, Baxter Road—I asked his name—he said Robert Bright—I asked if he lived at 25, Church Street—he said "Yes"—I told him I was a police-officer, and I should take him into custody for seriously wounding his wife—he said "All right, I know all about it"—on the way to the station he asked if his wife was dead—I said I did not know—he said "You would not have had me here to-night, only there were too many boats on the River Lea, or I should have drowned myself"—he was taken to the station and charged in the usual way—he said nothing further.
Witnesses for the Defence.
brought him to my house and called me up—he was in a very wildly excited condition—he told me among other things that his wife had been taking chemicals to enclose herself with other men—he produced a small bottle, and said she had been taking some of that stuff—there were a few drops of discoloured fluid in it, and he seemed to associate that in his mind with what he said—he said that when he went out he saw men standing about the street corner, and he had an idea that they were watching for an opportunity to come to his wife—he also told me that he believed his wife was unfaithful, and that he had caught some foul disease from her—on Monday, 7th, I saw him again—he was in bed—I was called to him in the after part of the day at his lodging in Church Street—he was then in the same excited condition, and repeated all those expressions I have mentioned—his wife was then present—I asked her if there was any truth in those matters, and she denied them with tears in her eyes—from my observations on those two occasions I formed a certain opinion, in consequence of which I recommended his wife to apply at once to the relieving officer and get him removed to a place of safety—my opinion was that he was insane, and I recommended that he should be put under restraint; I thought he would commit a violent act either upon himself or some other person—he had these delusions, and he was violent, agitated, and excitable, causing very great alarm in his family; his eyes were suffused, and his whole countenance was that of an excited person; his manner was so violent you could hardly be safe with him, I felt that myself—I considered it necessary that he should be put under restraint.
Cross-examined. There were no signs of drink about him when he came to me; in my opinion he had not been drinking—his delusion was all about his wife and this stuff she had taken—he made many other statements which I do not recollect, harping on the same thing, his wife's infidelity—I do not recollect having seen him before.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am medical officer at Holloway Prison—the prisoner was admitted there on 21st May, and has been constantly attended by me ever since—when he came in he was excited and restless, walking up and down; when you spoke to him he glanced about furtively, and when questioned he said he had injured his wife because she was unfaithful to him, that she was in the habit of having connection with a dozen men a day; that she used to stand at the window and beckon tham in, and used to tie the curtain of the window up so that they could see that she was prepared to receive them; he was full of various ideas of that kind, also that she had given him the venereal disease—I afterwards had him removed to the hospital because he was very violent—he had an attack of what was almost mania, shouting and declaring that they were hooting and yelling at him through the window—that was about a month after his admission—I was called to him on that occasion—that continued for two or three days, it then passed away, but he still persists to a certain extent that his wife is unfaithful to him, and in the same delusions, although he is very much better—I have heard the evidence of Dr. Stevens, and I concur with him that the prisoner is a proper subject to be put under restraint—just after the attack of almost maniacal passion, it took about five men to get him into the police van.
Cross-examined. With the exception of that attack he conformed to the
prison rules perfectly—he could understand what I said to him and answer rationally on some subjects; he has sufficient understanding to know perfectly the nature of the crime with which he is charged—he is now in a condition to take his trial, so as to know the proceedings that are going on—he has no other delusion but that about his wife, except on the one occasion when he spoke of hearing them yelling and shouting at him outside—that was the maniacal attack—he was very excited then.
Re-examined. If there was insanity in his family that would strengthen my opinion, hereditary insanity would do so—the time when it took five men to get him into the van was about two days after the violent attack—his calmness afterwards is not inconsistent with his having had an attack of fury when suffering from mental disease—a calm often follows the paroxysm, and in that calm a person would be able to understand what is passing, although the disease may still be present, only dormant—I formed the opinion I have expressed, from his delirious and his other symptoms.
ROBERT CLARK . I am an engineer and live at 49, Moorgate Street—the prisoner has been employed principally under my supervision since May, 1886—he has always been, since I have known him, a well-con-ducted man—the last month or two before May he seemed to have changed, he was more irregular in his hours for one thing, he seemed quieter, more reserved; the last week he was very reserved, and looked very ill—I never had much conversation with him.
Cross-examined. He assisted the gasfitters and engineers—he was in regular employment, coming early and doing an ordinary day's work—he continued to work at the same place until the Friday before this occurrence, except that he was away a week previously—I asked him the reason, and he said he had had pleurisy—the week in which this Saturday was he had been regularly at work every day, but looking very ill—as far as I could judge he performed his ordinary duties as usual—there was nothing particular that I noticed to incapacitate him from doing his ordinary work—we pay on Saturday—he did not come to work at all on the Saturday—I had no reason not to expect him on the Saturday except from what I had heard the previous week from his fellow men—he was a sober man.
Re-examined. He was very irregular in his work the last two months, but I noticed it more particularly the week before this occurrence—before that I did not watch him—I thought he looked very ill, and it was as well not to be too hard upon him till he recovered.
ROBERT BRIGHT . I am the prisoner's father—I have been in the dairy line all my life until the last few years—I am not able now to do anything—the prisoner was 29 last birthday—he has two cousins, his aunt's children—one of them, Matilda, was in an asylum; she has been dead about four years; she died in the asylum—the other, Albert, is alive, and is now in an asylum—he was about 20 when he was put into the asylum; the other was older—I have been alarmed about my son's mental condition; he has been very strange for some little time before the 19th of May, not particularly—very often he used to come in and make himself very sociable, but recently, when he has come in, he has not taken any notice—he would catch up his hat and say "I am off"—'I knew that he had been taken to Dr. Stevens.
Cross-examined. I have not seen either of the cousins since they when to the asylum; that was 10 years ago, I think; I could not say exactly.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT (Recalled). His going to work is not inconsistent with mental disease—I should not expect him to do it very well—it would be consistent with the disease gathering, and persons noticing something strange in his manner.
MR. JUSTICE CHARLES was of opinion that there was no evidence of insanity that he could leave to the Jury.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended. ELIZA CAVALIER. I live at 69, Warner Place, Hackney Road—on Sunday, 8th July, about half-past 8 in the evening, my little boy David, a year and 10 months old, was on the pavement, up and down, outside my door—I heard a horse and cart coming down the street at a rapid rate—my little boy ran into the road, and was about a yard from the door—I ran into the road to protect him—my hand just touched his clothes when I was thrown away by the horse and knocked down, and the cart went over me—I could not say whether it went over my child; I was so frightened—I rolled over and nicked him up, and gave him to a gentleman to give to his father, and he took him to the hospital, and I never saw him afterwards.
Cross-examined. There was no other traffic in the road—it is a straight road; there is a curve at the bottom, but not near where this happened—I did not call out to the child—I ran after him, and he ran further away.
JOHN DENNIS (Policeman H 57). On Sunday, 8th July, about half-past 8 in the evening, I was in plain clothes with another constable in plain clothes—I saw the prisoner driving a horse in a dog-cart, coming from Old Bethnal Green Road down Warner Place, at from eight to 10 miles an hour, galloping—ho was standing up and flogging the horse with this whip—he was on the off side of the road, close to the pavement—I heard the wheel graze the kerb after he passed—I heard a scream; I looked round, and saw the child about 3 feet from the kerb—the mother was in the act of picking it up—the child was knocked down, likewise the mother, and the off wheel went over the child—I ran up and assisted Mrs. Cavalier up, and she handed me the child, and I gave it to its father—the prisoner drove on and was stopped—his wife and a girl and a child were in the cart with him.
Cross-examined. I may have said before the Magistrate that the cart was going between seven and eight miles an hour—the child was about 3 feet from the kerb when it was knocked down—if any one says it was 2 feet from the kerb it would be untrue.
FREDERICK KING (Policeman H 207). I was with Dennis, and saw the prisoner in a horse and trap coming at about 10 miles an hour, galloping, standing up and beating the horse—after he passed me, I heard a scream—I turned round and saw the child running into the roadway, followed by a woman—I saw them both knocked down, and a wheel passed over each; I believe the off wheel went over the woman and the near wheel over the child—the child had got about nine feet
in the road—the prisoner had no time to avoid him at the pace he was going; if he had been going slower he could have done so—he drove on for about 30 yards, when I ran and stopped him.
Cross-examined. He slackened his pace after the accident—there are a good many people passing up and down the road.
CHARLOTTE KING . I live in Hackney Road—I was going down Warner Place with my little boy—I saw the prisoner in a horse and cart going at a very fast pace, galloping—I saw the child on the right-hand side; it had just stepped off the kerb—I saw the woman come out of the door to fetch it, and both were knocked over—I can't say how far from the kerb the child was when it was knocked down.
Cross-examined. It was run over directly it ran into the road; it had just got off the kerb.
WILLIAM HENRY BLAKE . I am house surgeon at the Children's Hospital in Hackney Road—the deceased child was brought there about 9 o'clock on the night of 8th July—he was practically dying; the heart could just be felt; there was a very large tumour, 6 inches by 4, under the left side of the head, and there was a graze as if caused by the wheel passing over it—there was a groove three inches long on the left side behind the ear, into which I could get my finger—the skull was fractured, and the boy died from those injuries.
The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for causing bodily injury to the mother of the child.
— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MR. TAYLOR Defended.
JOHN BARRY . I am the prisoner's brother-in-law; he married my sister—on 26th June they lived at 19, Grove Street—I was in a public-house that evening between 7 and 8 o'clock—the prisoner and his wife came in—they left together to go home—the prisoner was drunk; hit wife had had some drink, but was not quite so drunk—I was perfectly sober—I went with the prisoner, his wife, and a little boy, and the prisoner knocked at 19, Grove Street, and a little girl came to the street door—the prisoner went in, I followed, and his wife followed me—when we got in the room where they were living, the prisoner's wife started telling me what he had done on the previous night, the 25th—she said "You flung a paraffin oil lamp at me last night; it was alight, and if it had caught my clothes I would have been set on fire"—she had a cut on the forehead, and showed me the sticking-plaster on the cut from the lamp—I said "Well, if you wanted to hit her you might have used your hand and not have hit her with a paraffin oil lamp"—he did not answer—he was sitting on a chair against the front room window, and I was sitting on another—he drew a knife from a cloth—I stood up and said "What have you got that for, Dick?"—he drove at me in the jaw with the knife—his wife screamed, and he stabbed her—I said "Dick, do you know what you are doing?"—he kept driving at one and then the other—I received eight wounds—I was taken to the London Hospital; I
remained there four weeks—my sister was taken there; she remained a fortnight.
Cross-examined. His wife did not tell me what she had done to him before he threw the lamp, she gave that in evidence at the police court—he was hopelessly drunk at the public-house—I offered him drink out of a quart of ale I had—his wife was in the public-house two or three minutes—she said to him, "You thought I would not follow you, but I will"—she did not drink in the public-house—she did not tell me she had spat in the prisoner's face, she said that at the police court—she did not say "Now just you hit me when my brother is here"—I did not then get up in a fighting attitude, nor did he go to the cupboard and take a knife—I never stirred off the chair till I saw him take the knife when I stood up—I did not threaten or speak against any of them—I got stabbed in the face, but how I cannot say—I was not trying to attack him—the prisoner appeared to be affectionate except when drinking—he had been a teetotaller, but broke out some weeks prior to June 25th—that was the first time he had taken any spirituous liquors for some time.
Re-examined. When I was injured I did not know what became of the prisoner or the knife.
GEORGET. GIDDINGS . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—on Tuesday night, June 26th, I saw Barry about 8.30 p.m.—I found a wound on his left shoulder about three inches long under the skin and going lower down—it was dangerous because it narrowly escaped the larnyx—he had another wound near the left ear, an inch in length, and extending downwards 21/2 inches, and another wound on the left cheek about 21/2 inches, extending to another wound on the left side of the lower lip through an opening about an inch and a half in length—there was also an incised wound on the centre of the forehead two inches long, and about a quarter of an inch deep, and another on the left hand between the thumb and finger 21/2 inches in length—the wound could not have been caused by grasping a knife, because there was a scratch at the back of the hand as if the knife had slipped—there was also a punctured wound on the inner side of the right wrist half an inch deep—he was under surgical care in the hospital about four weeks—he has some marks on the left side of his face, which are likely to remain permanent—the same night I saw the prisoner's wife, who had been brought to the hospital about 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour before the prosecutor—she had four wounds—her jaw was splintered and her arm punctured—all the wounds were such as might have been inflicted by a carving knife or instrument of that description—the wife was in the hospital about a fortnight.
Cross-examined. The wife was not intoxicated when at the hospital—I saw her about a quarter past 8.
EDMUND READ (Inspector H). On June 26th, in consequence of receiving information, I went to the prisoner's house and examined a room—I found a broken lamp on the floor, and pools of blood in the room and on the stairs, and spots of blood on the walls—I could not find the knife—on August 15th I saw the prisoner at the police station—I told him the charge was attempting to kill and slay his wife and his brother-in-law, and that I had not been able to find the knife—he said he threw it on the floor—I said that was impossible, for I thoroughly searched the room.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner's wife the same evening—I believed she was drunk—the prisoner has been engaged in the Victoria Docks for some time as a labourer—he has borne a good character.
WILLIAM FARROW (Policeman H R 39). On 15th August, about a quarter past 1 a.m., the prisoner came to the police-station—he said "I am the man you are looking for; I am RICHARD PATTERSON; I give myself up; I am tired of walking about"—he was sober—since 26th June the police had been trying to find him.
GUILTY of wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm. The prisoner then
He received a good character.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. TAYLOR Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
AMY LUCY HOWARTH . I am unmarried—I live at 25, Rhodes Street, Barnsbury, Islington—I made the prisoner's acquaintance about Christmas last, and before August last had been friendly and walked out with him—the acquaintance ceased on Bank Holiday—I saw him between the 6th and 11th August—on the 11th I went to the Alexandra Palace with Mr. Bovington—on returning to London, about 10.30 p.m., I went into the Brewery Tap in Holloway Road with Mr. Bovington—I saw the prisoner outside—he followed us into the same compartment—he stood at the bar for about 20 minutes and then went out—in about 10 minutes he came in with five or six young men—he asked me whether I was going out with him or with the other one, meaning Bovington—I told him I did not want him—he said "I'll cut your b——throat"—he took his hand out of his pocket, and struck at my throat—I put my hand up to stop the blow, and cut my finger on the right hand—I saw blood, and fainted—I found myself in, Mr. Sworn's surgery; the prisoner was brought in—I next saw him at the police-station.
Cross-examined. On the Bank Holiday I went with another young man, and the prisoner went with another young woman—the young man was not Bovington—I missed the prisoner; he left me—we all lost each other—I did not look at the prisoner on the 11th; I turned my face away—the prisoner looked angrily at me—I did not turn my back on him—he was not smoking—I said "I don't want you"—I said no more; no stronger words—I recollect telling the Magistrate the prisoner took his hand out of his pocket—I will not swear it—I was asked whether he was smoking a pipe; I did not notice—I did not see him cleaning his pipe with his knife—I did not know his parents—I saw them when he was in charge—he sent me a kind message, but did not ask about my finger—his mother read me half of his letter—he said "Ask Amy to forgive me what I done to her on Saturday night; I would not have done it had I been sober, but I was drunk," and "Give my best love to Amy." (Read:"Please write soon, and ask Amy to write and let me know how she is getting on. I hope her hand is better. Put both letters in one envelope, as only one is allowed at once.") I do not recollect her reading that.
Re-examined. I was not asked at the police-court whether he had his hand in his pocket.
ERNEST BOVINGTON . I am a carman, of 2, Liverpool Buildings, Islington—on Saturday, 11th August, I went the Alexander Palace—on the way home I went into the Brewery Tap with Miss Howarth—the prisoner came in, and spoke to her, and went out—I did not hear what he said—he returned with five others—he spoke to Howarth; I did not hear what it was; it was in a low tone—I heard her scream—I saw the prisoner about to strike her, and I stopped him—I saw blood on her hand—the people were going to strike him—he ran away into a shop—a constable came, and he was given into custody—I saw no pipe in his hand.
Cross-examined. Howarth was sitting near the table against the wall—I was sitting on the table in front of her, with my back to her—the prisoner sat by her side and whispered to her—my face then was turned to his, away from the girl—then I heard her scream "I am stabbed"—I turned my head; he was about to strike her; he was still sitting on the seat—his hand was raised, and I caught hold of his wrist—I did not notice whether he was smoking.
CHARLES DUNN . I am a glover, of 19, Bernard-Place, Eden Grove, Holloway—I was in the Brewery Tap on 11th August about 10.30—I saw the prisoner strike at the prosecutrix—I heard a young woman was stabbed—the prisoner ran out, and I gave chase, and called "Police"—the knife was handed to me by the landlord, and by me to the police at the surgery—I did not see a pipe in the prisoner's hand—on the road to the station I heard the prisoner say "If I get ten years for this I'll cut her throat when I come out. "
Cross-examined. When the blow was struck persons set on the prisoner and drove him out of the house; he ran for his life—I saw him very much knocked about—he was in liquor, but more excited—the shop into which he ran was about 60 yards off—he used the expression about cutting her throat after he had been beaten—the words might have been "I'll do for her"—nobody had said anything to him.
WILLIAM RAYNER (Policeman Y 190). About 10. 30 p. m., on 11th August, from communication received I went to a confectioner's and newsagent's shop in the Holloway Road—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for stabbing a woman—he said "All right"—I took him to Dr. Sworn, 16, Albion Road, where the prosecutrix was, and then to the police-station—on the way he said "If I get ten years for this, when I come out I'll cut her b——head off"—in answer to the charge he said "All right"—the following Monday morning he murmured that he would do for her when he came out; that was just before being taken in the prison van to the police-court—when taken into custody he was under the influence of drink.
Cross-examined. At the surgery I asked the prosecutrix if she was going to charge the prisoner; I got no answer—the next morning I said "How are you?" and he said "I'll do for her when I come out ".
Re-examined. Dunn handed me the knife; it was closed—Frederick William Howarth, the prosecutrix's brother, was present when the prisoner was charged—there was no blood on the knife.
(MR. PURCELL objected to Frederick William Howarth being examined, he not having been called at the police-court, and the evidence was not pressed.)
HENRY GEORGE SWORN . I am a surgeon, practising at 16, Albion Road, Holloway—Miss Howarth was brought to my surgery on Saturday night, 11th August—I examined her right hand, and found a clean incised wound over the back of the ring finger—it might have been caused only by a sharp instrument like the knife produced—the wound was an inch long and down to the bone, which is not very deep there on account of the knuckle—she lost a great deal of blood and fainted.
Cross-examined. There will be no permanent injury; the wound is quite healed.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. — Three Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT—Thursday, September 20th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
836. RICHARD MONTANUS (40) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining from George Keller and others 10 cases of cotton prints with intent to defraud.— Judgment respited. There was another Indictment against the prisoner for forgery.
PEACOCK PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted.
HENRY SAMUEL KYNASTON (Railway Detective). On 30th August, about 7 p.m., I was watching in the Grand Hall at Euston Station, and saw Peacock sitting on a seat, looking at some luggage—Smith was walking about the hall; they joined one another and conversed—at 7.10 Johnson joined me—the prisoners continued to watch the luggage, and about 7.45 a porter brought a barrow of luggage, and a lady and gentleman followed him—the porter left to get some labels, and the prisoners walked about, and returned to the hall again, and sat down—a gentleman placed his coat and bag on a slab—Smith walked up to it, looked at it, and went into the booking-office—Peacock placed his hand on it, but seeing a policeman in uniform he walked into the booking-office—they then returned to the hall, sat down, and remained till 9.10, when Smith got up and walked to a barrow of luggage and picked up this bag (produced)—Peacock walked close behind him—they were leaving the station by a side gate—I stopped Smith and asked him what he was going to do with the bag—he said "It is mine"—I said "You have stolen it"—he said "I have not"—Johnson took Peacock, and they were taken to the inspector's office.
GEORGE EDWARD BARNES . I am a lieutenant in the Royal Marine Infantry—on August 30th I accompanied my sister to Euston—the luggage was placed on a barrow in the large hall; the bag was with it—I went into the waiting-room for a short time—a detective called me, and I missed the bag from the barrow—the contents were worth about 10.; it belonged to Miss Frazer, who was with my sister.
Smith's Statement before the Magistrate.—"I am guilty, Sir."
838. GEORGE PEACOCK and JAMES SMITH were again indicted for stealing a portmanteau, a suit of clothes, and a portmanteau, six collars and other articles of the London and South Western Railway, to which
PEACOCK PLEADED GUILTY .
BENJAMIN NORTON . I live at South Bermondsey—on August 20th I was a passenger on the South Western Railway, on arriving at Waterloo station my portmanteau was missing—I have since seen part of the contents, a handkerchief, and suit of clothes, six shirts and a flannel vest.
CHARLES CLARK I am assistant to Mr. Davidson, a pawnbroker, of Waterloo Road—on August 21st, the suit of clothes, six shirts, and vest (produced) were pledged with me, I do not know who by, in the name of James Smith—Mr. Norton identified them.
ROBERT CALLAGHER . I took Smith on the other charge, and found in a box at his lodgings at 28, Stangate, this account book and handkerchief which have been identified—I found on him this cricket ball and pocket book.
JANE HAYES . I am housekeeper at 36, Hyde Park Gardens—on August 27th I was a passenger on the South Western Railway, and arrived at Waterloo about 9 p.m., and missed my portmanteau, which had been put into the train at Woking—I next saw it at Albany Street Police Station—it contained, among other things, a bag, a comb, and a brash, which I have identified.
FREDERICK DAWS . I am an actor and live at Stangate, Smith lodged in the same house, and I have seen Peacock there—I found this bag, comb, and brush on my dressing table, and Smith told me he placed them there—Peacock said that he was going away to sea, Smith introduced me to him at the New Inn, Westminster Road, and said that he was a sailor—I never knew his name—that was two or three days before I found the things on my dressing table.
FREDERICK VALHACHE . I live at Lower Clapton—on August 27th I was a passenger by the London and South Western Railway, and arrived at Waterloo about 9.50 and missed my portmanteau—I have since seen it in the possession of the police—among other things it contained these two vests and six collars (produced), and a cricket belt which I have since seen, and a pocket book.
Smith Defence. I did not know Peacock till a fortnight before we were caught—he gave me the things that I had, I met him at New Inn. he asked me to have a drink, and said that he had come from the West Indies, and had brought a few things with him, and would give me a razor and strop. He slept with me one night and brought two portmanteaux, in one of which were two waistcoats, a suit of clothes, and a pocket book. He gave me a waistcoat, a belt, and the pocket book. I thought he brought them from the West Indies. I should like him to be called.
Smith at the New Inn, Westminster-Bridge-Road, and said I had just come home from the West Indies, and had a lot of stuff—I asked him if he shaved, he said "Yes," and I gave him a razor and strop, and asked where I could sleep that night—he said that I could sleep with him. and I took two portmanteaus which I had stolen to his place, and gave him a pocket book, some collars, and a handkerchief.
Cross-examined. I told him that my name was Peacock—I took the two portmanteaus in the evening, but I slept out and took them round to him in the morning—I slept with a young girl and gave the rest of the contents to her; I let her have a good pick of cigars and cigarettes, and she took all but the comb and brush—I pawned some of the articles in the name of James Smith, which is my real name—I had promised the prisoner Smith a portmanteau a week before, and told him it was at Waterloo Station—I knew I could get one—as the train came in I opened the door and took them out of the van—I took these things before I know Smith, and I pawned them in the name of James Smith—the account book which I gave to Smith had writing in it, and the name of Daniels—it did not look as if it belonged to me, there was nothing in it about Peacock—Smith did not ask me how I came into possession of a handkerchief with another person's name on it—we were together at Euston, but I took the things and gave them to him—I told him I was going to meet a chum, he did not know I was going to steal anything, though they have been taking him for my tool all along—I said "It' you see a sailor, tell me, he is sure to come by one of these train," and while his back was turned I was watching the luggage, and said to him "Take that bag, that belongs to me, don't give it to anybody"—he had nothing to do with it, I am the man to suffer for it.
FREDERICK DAWS (Re-examined by Smith). I first saw you together about a fortnight before you were taken in custody—I have known you about four months, you came from Bradford, in Yorkshire, and joined the company I was acting with—we broke up a fortnight or three weeks afterwards—I came to London; you came up afterwards, and I took you in where I was living—I paid for your board and lodging for a week, but was unable to continue it—I never saw Peacock give you anything, but I have known of it.
SMITH— GUILTY . — Twelve Months' Hard labour. PEACOCK— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted.
JABEZ TURNER . I am a chemist and druggist, of 483, Hackney-Road—this ticket (produced) is similar to what I have printed for my business, but I never sent one to a chemist with an order—on 9th July, between 8 and 9 o'clock, the prisoner came and said he was a traveller in druggists' sundries, and would give me a price list if I would give him one of my labels, which I did, and he said he would send me the lift—I never gave him any order—this order is not written by me or by my auhority.
prisoner called there and said that he was travelling for a wholesale house; he spoke about different drugs and asked leave to send in prices and asked for one of Mr. North's labels, which I gave him—he came again in the evening and said that he had lost the label, and asked for another, which I gave him—this is it—he came again on August 1—I was alone—I had received a communication from Pearson and Co.—he asked me if I had considered what he had previously spoken about—I said "Yes"—I said "What have you done with the two labels I gave you?"—he said "I lost the first and gave the other to the house"—I said "I have had no price list, and the two labels have been used on forged orders"—he said that he would make inquiry at the house he represented, he had sent the label in—I detained him a short time, but a lady customer came in and then he bolted; I did ditto and brought him back and gave him in custody—I gave no order and never received this Eau de Cologne.
ALBERT CHARLES GREGORY I am dark to Shire and Francis, wholesale druggists—on 23rd July the prisoner presented this order to me with Mr. North's ticket on it—I believed it was a genuine order, and delivered the goods to him—on 26th July he brought this second order, and I delivered the goods to him.
Cross-examined. I swear you are the man—I serve many customers in a day.
EDWARD DREW (Police Sergeant). On August 1st I accompanied Mr. Gregory to Mr. North's shop, where I saw the prisoner—I produced these two orders, and told him I should take him in custody for forging and uttering them—he made no reply, but afterwards said he knew nothing about it—he was charged at the station, and made no reply.
Cross-examined. I found no goods at your address.
The Prisoner in his defence denied being the man who obtained the labels or got the orders.
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, September 19th, and Thursday, the 20th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted; MESSRS. BESLEY and A. METCALFE defended Shuttleworth, and MESSES. GEOGHEGAN and LAWLESS defended Lyons.
Street—I don't live there; my warehouse people do—I carry on business as an egg importer there—on the night of 17th May my premises were left secure—next morning, 18th May, I was communicated with, and found my warehouse had been opened during the night, and that seven half cases of eggs and a box of butter had been taken away—an office in the warehouse had also been opened, and this brown felt hat and pair of opera glasses were missing from it—it would not be usual in the course of my business to stow cases of eggs behind the warehouse doors—the value of the eggs and butter was about 11l.—the selling value of each of the half cases of eggs was about 36s. or 37s.—another hat had been left in the warehouse in place of this one—I communicated with the police—I attended at this Court in June to give evidence in respect of this charge against Taylor and Smith—they were not tried upon that charge, but on a charge of stealing a gelding, van, set of harness, and other property—they were convicted, and then the facts in my case were stated to the Court—it was tried before the Recorder on 7th July—Smith was sentenced to five years' penal servitude, and Taylor to 12 months' hard labour—I was in Court at the time, and heard Smith make a statement—I have not since seen the opera glasses—three rolls of butter and my hat were found at Hounslow and shown to me; I identified them—I had known Shuttleworth before 18th May; he came to my place about three times and bought damaged eggs; the last time was in last year—he made no visit between January and May—he deals in damaged eggs—to get into the office you must go through the warehouse door; the office is in the warehouse, partitioned off from it—Shuttleworth would have come in by that entrance on those occasions.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. There is nothing extraordinary in a dealer in damaged eggs coming to my shop—he bought damaged eggs on each of the three occasions he came—I have served him on many other occasions, but the van has then gone with the goods—he would come, mentioning he wanted damaged eggs, and then my van would go with damaged eggs to his place if I had any—Shuttleworth's name was mentioned at the last trial—the butter was found and identified at Hounslow—the hat was proved to have been found on White, one of the persons charged—White said it belonged to Smith—another hat was proved as having been found on my premises, and that was fitted on to Smith—there was another charge at Brentford against Smith and Taylor of stealing a horse and cart—my assistant, who lives over the warehouse, discovered the burglary at half-past 4.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. On 4th August I was examined at the police-court—at that time only Shuttleworth was charged—then I was examined about a fortnight afterwards, when Lyons was charged for the first time.
Re-examined. Smith first mentioned Shuttleworth's name at the trail here.
MR. MATHEWS proposed to ask what was then said about Shuttleworth. MR. BESLEY objected, and the COMMON SERJEANT considered it should not be gone into. then.) The hat found on my premises was fitted on Smith and then on Taylor; it fitted Taylor, but not Smith—I think it belonged to Taylor.
By MR. METCALFE. This is a butter box (produced)—it is one of the boxes stolen from me on that night.
penal servitude, which was passed on me by the Recorder at this Court on July 7th, when I was convicted of stealing a gelding, van, set of harness, and other property of John Gibbon in May—about a fortnight before I went with my pony and cart to Mr. Davies's in Bond-street, I saw Lyons for the first time and spoke to him—I did not see him between that and the occasion when I went with the pony and cart—the first time I saw Shuttleworth was at Smithfield, Market, about a fortnight before he came and hired me; I had no conversation with him, I only saw him up there—on Thursday, May 17th, he came alone to my stables, 4, James Street, New Cut, Lambeth, where I had a pony and cart—I was hawking flowers—Taylor was with me at the time, I had met him one day at Covent Garden, and, knowing him by sight, I asked him to come and give me a hand—I was 20 last October—I and Taylor were coming from dinner, and we met Shuttleworth in James Street between 2 and 3 p.m., he was waiting for me in front of my stable, where he had been inquiring for me—he said "I want to know if you would mind shifting some things for me"—I said, "No. When will you want me?" he said "About 6 o'clock to-morrow morning"—I said, "All right, I will be at the stable ready for you; instead of going home I will sleep at the stable for you, to be there ready for you"—Taylor heard that—I and Taylor slept in the loft of the stable that night—next morning I heard some one Knocking at 4 o'clock—we got up and let Shuttleworth in, he said, "Are you ready?"—I said "No, I aid not know you were coming so early"—he said, "All right," and walked up the yard with me and Taylor, and helped me to harness the pony—we put the pony to and all three drove off in the cart, Shuttleworth directing me where to go as we went along; he said, "I want you to drive towards Bond Street"—and as we got to Bond Street, he said, "Down here," that was Avery Row—I drew up in front of No. 3, Mr. Davies's warehouse—Shuttleworth got down first, and ran up the steps and first gave the door a shove and it seemed as if it was opened inside—whether it was or not I cannot say, I did not see anybody—I should say the door was locked and then unlocked from inside—I and Taylor followed after him into the warehouse—Shuttleworth walked into the office, just inside the door, and got a book and opened it, and said "I want you to put these seven boxes of eggs up and that box of butter"—he pointed to some boxes which stood on the top of one another just round by the side of the door, near it—I said "All right"—I took my coat off, put the nose bag on the pony, and came back—in the meantime Taylor had got another hat on, a brown one, such as this; he had a black one before; I don't know where he got it from—after Shuttleworth told me to load up he walked up the street; he was outside when I was loading up the boxes—I and Taylor loaded up the eight boxes on to the cart—after we had done so Shuttleworth came and said to me "I want you to take them round to your stable until I come round about 4 o'clock this afternoon"—I had taken the nose bag off the pony, and Taylor and I drove off, leaving Shuttleworth standing on the shop step; the door was then open—I took the eight cases back, and left them just inside my stable—at 1 o'clock that afternoon I was with Taylor in the stable when the prisoners came in together—I had not seen Lyons for about a fortnight—I had had no conversation with him before this afternoon about the matter—Shuttleworth said "I want these names taken off the egg boxes, the red marks"—the egg boxes had only
red marks on; the marks were the same as these black ones on this butter box, I think—he produced a bit of glass, and all four of us tried to take off the marks with the glass, and some sand paper too he had; that did not take off the marks quickly enough—he asked me if I would go and get a plane—I said "No"—he said "All right," and went out, and bought a spokes have or something—when he came back he used it, and Lyons the sand paper, and me and Taylor the glass—we then soon got the names off the seven egg boxes—I do not think he saw the butter—Shuttleworth pulled out a bottle of ink stuff and a brush, and a letter in the form of "A," and he put three "A's" on the ends of the boxes that we had taken the names off—he then said he wanted the boxes taken to Mill Row, Kingsland Road—I cannot say if he lives there; it was the first time I went there—I said "I don't know where it is exactly"—he said "The first turning before you come to the bridge"—I said "I don't know where that is"—he said "At any rate Lyons will go with you, and Taylor will go with me on a'bus "—I loaded up the boxes in the cart, and went to a public-house, and Shuttleworth and Lyons paid for something to drink for the lot of us; it was between 4 and 5 in the afternoon then—then Lyons and I drove in the cart to Mill Row—the only thing we left at the stable was the box of butter, off which the marks had not boen removed—we got to Mill Row about a quarter of an hour before ShuttleWorth and Taylor—when they came up Shuttleworth said "I want you to unload and take them to the back of my house"—then I and Taylor unloaded the cases, and put them in the yard at the back of the house; Shuttleworth and Lyons were talking together—after we had done it I came back to them, and Shuttleworth gave me 5s., and said "I forgot all about the box of butter; I have left it at your stable, and I will give you that too"—I said "All right," and I and Taylor drove back to my yard—next day I was arrested; I had a stolen pony in my possession—the box of butter was found in the stable by the police at the same time as the pony—while we were waiting for Shuttleworth outside his place for a quarter of an hour Lyons took me to a public-house, and asked me if I wanted to buy a pair of opera glasses; he showed me a white pair—I said "No"—he said "I only want 5s. or 6s. for them"—I said "No, they are no use to me"—while we were driving to Kingsland Lyons said "I hope there ain't no tecs
in a cab following us; "he looked round—I said "What is that for?"—he put it off in some way or other, and said "I was only larking"—while we were on the road he told me to keep clear of Petticoat Lane—he drove part of the way himself till he found he had lost his walking stick—he also said "Anything you steal I will buy of you, from a diamond down to a pin; anything you steal that you want to get rid of; I buy anything from a diamond to a pin"—I was tried and convicted here—at the end of my trial I made a statement when I was called on for my defence—I had already been convicted of felony in July, 1885, in the name of William Swaine; that was the only conviction against me; I have been in the service since then.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. When the suggestion was made about detectives, as tecs,
I was quite surprised, and said "What do you mean?"—I did not think at that time there was anything wrong in moving the property, I thought it was a perfectly honest transaction from beginning to end—Shuttleworth did not pay Taylor; he gave me the 5s.—I was like master and Taylor my man—Shuttleworth knew nothing about Taylor
I have mentioned before to-day that Shuttleworth said "I forgot all about the butter"—there was no using of glass or spokeshave on that butter box—when I was convicted in 1885 I gave my age as 22; that was my first conviction; I was in custody then three months—since then I have been in the navy; I enlisted as a sailor—I was only out of it six weeks before I was arrested for this affair—I came out on leave; instead of going back I was in prison—White was no friend of mine; I don't know what has become of him—I last saw him at the Old Bailey, when he was let off because he was only like having a ride with me—he stood by my side in the dock—1 never lived in Stamford Street; I never had premises there—I told Mr. Bowley, of Brixton, when I applied to him to let me the stable in Lower Marsh, that my name was Thomas Wood, and that I lived at 62, Stamford Street; that was not true—I got the key on 7th May—I did not steal the pony from Mr. Gibbons on 23rd April; I bought it at Smithfield Market; it was the only pony found in my possession—he says a tarpaulin, six baskets, two sacks, a shovel, a fork, collar, and traces, all belonging to Mr. Gibbons, and stolen with the pony on,23rd April, were found in this stable which I took on 7th May; I don't know if they were stolen between 23rd April and 7th May—when I took the stable a man lent me a barrow with those things in—I don't know the date I bought it; I bought the pony directly I took the stable almost—Shuttleworth knows who I bought it of; he was standing alongside the man; I have said that before—I bought the pony at the market, and all the other things were in—I never stole a pony from Warren, a costermonger, of Notting Hill—I bought that at Smithfield Market—I know Edge Street, Notting Hill—Warren said he knew me six or seven years ago as Jockell—I did not rob him—he did not say I did—I heard his statement before the Magistrate at Brentford—they found a pony, bridle, traces, collar, loin cloth, dog, rabbit, and hutch in my possession; they turned out to be his—they were in my stable—I don't know if they were stolen—I did not steal them—I won't say Shuttleworth knew of my buying that—that was bought at Smithfield, and the barrow, not till after 7th May—I had the stable before for the other pony—I did not steal any pony, I reckon I have been improperly convicted—I did not know anything was stolen when I was convicted before—I did not know the pony came from Warren; I know nothing about breaking into his place and taking the things—I did not steal on 4th May a waggon and other things belonging to Hewitt; I had no waggon in my possession—a sack of wheat which he identified was found by the police at my stable; I bought straw and this sack of wheat off a man who came round to me in a waggon; I can't exactly say the date—I first had a stable just opposite the one in the New Cut; I left it because the wet came in—I had got the use of that stable a fortnight before 7th May—I moved across to the stable in the New Cut the tarpaulin and Gibbons's and Hewitt's property—I told Mr. Bowley I had two ponies in my possession at the same time; both turned out to be stolen—I did not know it—I have been convicted innocently—I don't know if Mr. Baker lived at Notting Hill near the costermonger—I have not seen the costermonger for six or seven years-the police never said they saw me with Baker's cart—the man I bought the barrow of brought the cart round to me and took his barrow back—I, White, and Taylor were seen in the cart, with a shaft broken; it was
found at my place on the 9th and identified—I had only had the cart three or four days—the cart White was driving when taken into custody, and out of which I and Taylor had just got, was another little cart—I only had two carts—I had 20l. when I came out of the navy—the cart with the broken shaft was only lent to me by the man when he took the barrow away—I cannot say how many hours I was driving about on the Thursday before I was arrested—I might have been out once or twice in the cart with White and Taylor—I and Taylor did not agree that we would tell the Jury that White knew nothing about it; I said the truth—White knew nothing about it, he only came for a ride—Taylor was convicted—I don't suppose White is here—I first had a statement written down in my presence in Pentonville by Inspector Stroud; it was read over to me; I don't know the date; it was in August—that only happened once—I suppose I was brought up to give evidence against Shuttleworth on 4th August, a day or two after my statement was written down by Stroud—I was at the police court twice; I don't think Lyons was there the first time—I was there on 7th and 15th, I think—Stroud did not that I know of say to Taylor in the cells in my hearing "Have you got your paper?"—I did not hear Taylor say "Yes, sir, I can sing it like a bird," nothing like it, if he had I should have heard him——I was in the adjoining cell to Taylor; I could talk to him perfectly freely—he had not got a paper to my knowledge—I did not hear Taylor say when Shuttleworth was brought out "Pay for a pot of coffee for us, governor, and we won't make it hot for you"—Taylor said he was hungry, and I heard Shuttleworth say to Taylor "I will buy you as much as you can eat if you will only say what I want you to"—he did not know I was in the third cell, and he thought he could get over Taylor—Taylor said nothing to him—I don't know exactly what time it was when I got to Shuttieworth's place with the cases on the Friday six guineas were not paid to me by Shuttleworth in the presence of four or five persons—he did not require me to sign a receipt which his wife wrote—I did not mark, nor was I told I must sign, nor did I sign "Wood"—a bit of dirty paper was first passed by me at the police-court; I did not take any notice of it—a paper was shown to me and I swore it was not my writing—the word "Wood" was not written by me—I carried the whole seven or eight cases at the same time—Lyons rode with me to show me the way, and Taylor was left to come with Shuttleworth.
By the Jury. I gave no receipt; I never saw six guineas; I gave no receipt for 5s.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I might have seen Lyons about three times before—I did not say at the police court that he was a stranger; it was the first time I had seen him in the egg business—he was a stranger to me in the egg business—I had spoken to him before—only Shuttleworth came in the morning at 4 o'clock, Lyons did not come—Shuttleworth knocked at the stable door—I did not see Lyons at the place in Bond Street, but Taylor heard somebody moving downstairs directly the door was opened, I and Taylor heard a noise down below—I don't know that I ever said a word about that before, I have not been questioned about it—Shuttleworth made the appointment to meet at 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I was then with Taylor, and the two prisoners came together and knocked at the door and asked for me; a woman lived over the stable—then I saw Lyons for the first time in the egg business—
Lyons spoke about the detectives on the ride, and about the opera glasses while we were waiting for Shuttleworth—I said at the police court he said, "If you happen to thieve at any time we will buy it"—I told the detective he said "Anything from a diamond to a pin"—I said before the Magistrate "Anything from a diamond to a pin," and I remember now they did not write it down—the deposition was read over to me and I signed it—White had nothing to do with this robbery—he was convicted of it wrongly—he merely came for a ride with me the day we were caught—I passed under the name of Wood at the stables I rented—I have passed under the three names of Swaine, Smith, and Wood—the reason I don't go under my right name is that I don't want my friends outside and those in the service to know—the four of us scraped the names off the boxes—I said at the police court Shuttleworth took some glass out of his pocket and said, "I want you to get these names off; Lyons, Taylor, and I then scraped the names off"—Shuttleworth began to take part too.
Re-examined. Shuttleworth was present at Smithfield Market when I bought the first pony—he stood alongside the man I bought it of praising its good qualities—I did not see him between that time and the time he came to my premises—he knew my address by hearing me tell the man I bought the pony and borrowed the barrow of where I lived, so that he might come for the barrow—I had had that first pony about four weeks—in my address to the jury on my trial, I told what I said just now about Shuttleworth—I heard Shuttleworth say to Taylor, "I will buy you as much as you can eat, if you only say as much as I want you to," that was when I was first put against him—I was in the cells at the back of the Court—I heard nothing more pass between Shuttleworth and Taylor—at that time I heard no mention of Lyons by Shuttleworth, only I saw Lyons go past with Shuttleworth into a cell on that occasion—I could hear them talking; quarrelling, I think, with one another in their cell; I did not hear what they said, but Taylor did—I gave no receipt at all; he merely gave me 5s. on the doorstep, and said there was the box of butter left at the stables, and I drove away satisfied—I cannot write; you will find that if you go to the service.
By MR. BESLEY. I did not say I took a box of butter and one half-case of eggs and sell them to Lyons at Lyons' father's shop.
JOHN THOMAS DAVIES (Re-examined). My warehouse was looked from without with a key, it has two doors—the outer ones have bolts on the inside top and bottom, and by drawing back the bolts the doors fly open; in addition to the bolts and a catch lock there is a key which is used from the outside—if locked from the outside by drawing the bolts inside it can be opened; those outer doors are taken off during the daytime—inside the outer doors are a pair of plate glass doors, which are fastened by two bolts inside and a lock on the outside, both pairs can be opened by dropping the bolts—they could not open the doors from the outside—the duty of locking the warehouse up is entrusted to my clerk Roberts—he has since left me and is in Wales—it would not be the duty of the person who locked up to go round and see if anybody was concealed on the premises before he left—boxes were piled up about the place—if a person were in the warehouse we should see him, but if he had gone down in the cellar we should not—there is a cellar leading by a wooden staircase from the back of the warehouse—Roberts
was examined before the Magistrate; he is a respectable man—it was about 9 o'clock on the Friday when I got to the warehouse—the servant who lived above the warehouse and first discovered the burglary mentioned quarter past 4 o'clock as the time—Roberts looked to see if there were marks of breaking in, and came to the conclusion I did, that some one concealed himself in the cellar and let the others in—there was no mark on the doors of breaking in, except the office door, where there were marks; that door was forced open—the hat was an old one of mine—White was wearing it at Brentford, and I recognised it—Roberts was living then over the stable, at No. 12—the person who lived above the premises can be procured, his name is Davis—I found a crowbar with which the desk in the office had been partly forced open—it was one of my crowbars.
THOMAS TAYLOR (In custody). I am undergoing 12 months' imprisonment, which was passed on me for various offences—I was sentenced on 7th July with Smith and White; that is the first conviction there ever was against me—I am 17—on 17th May I was with Smith at his stables at Lambeth between 3 and 4 p. m.—Shuttleworth said to Smith "I want you to do a job for me to-morrow about 6 o'clock in the morning"—Smith said "All right, I will sleep over the stables to-night," referring to the stables at James Street—Shuttleworth did not speak to me at all—Smith and I slept over the stables that night—next morning, about 4 o'clock, Shuttleworth knocked at the door; he said it was 6; Smith went down; I stopped in the loft—I heard the pony being put in the cart, and Shuttleworth and Smith talking together—Smith called out to me "Jack, come down," and Shuttleworth said "We don't want him with us; we can do the job without him"—Smith said "He had better come"—I went down, we all three got up in the cart, and Smith drove to No. 3, Avery Bow, Bond Street—Shuttleworth got down and pushed the door open with his hands, or else somebody opened it; I did not take much notice; he appeared to push it—he went inside, and I followed him; Smith stopped outside, and put the nose bag on the pony, and let down the tailboard, and took his coat off—Shuttleworth had a book in his hands—he was inside the office, and he said "That is an old hat you have got on; here is a better"—I threw my blaoak felt hat on one side, and he gave me this brown one"—before he said that he said "I want you to put those eight cases of eggs up in the cart and the box of butter"—they were standing behind the door he had pushed open, I think—I took off my coat, and Smith came in, and he and I put them in the cart—while we were doing that Shuttleworth walked up Avery Row with the same book in his hand; I don't think he was doing anything—after we had put them in he stood on the steps and said "All right, take them to your stables; I will be round by-and-bye"—Smith said "All right," and put on his coat, and we got up in the cart and drove away to the stables, from which we started in the morning, and put the cases in the stables; we got back there somewhere about 5 a. m.—the prisoners came round together to the stables between 3 and 4—Shuttleworth looked at the cases of eggs, which were piled up in the stable, and said "D n it all; I have fetched the wrong cases after all; I shall have to go out for a spokeshave now"—he gave me and Lyons and Smith a piece of glass each, and said "Scrape the names off those boxes"—there were red marks on the boxes, like these on this box—I did not do that; I went outside, leaving Smith
and the prisoners scraping the names off—Shuttleworth went away, and came back with a spokeshave—then he sent me out for a pennyworth of sandpaper—I brought it back, and gave it to him, and he gave me and Lyons and Smith a piece to scrape the names off—I used it, and assisted in taking out the marks—it was used after the spokeshave—after that was used he rubbed some dung on, and then printed three "A's"—he had a piece of tin with a little "A" on it, and a brush and black—after that Shuttleworth said "Load up,11 and me and Smith put the boxes in the same cart we had used in the morning—Shuttleworth said to Smith "Take them over to Mill Lane, Kingsland"—Smith said "I don't know where that is"—Shuttleworth said "This young fellow will go over with you; he knows where it is," pointing to Lyons—I said to Smith, "Will I go with you?"—Shuttleworth said "No, you come along with me"—Smith and Lyons got up in the cart and drove away, and left me and Shuttleworth at the stables—some cases and boxes had been put on the cart—this box of butter was left behind at the stable; he never scraped the names off that—Shuttleworth took me up to some road, and we got on a 'bus
at the Elephant and Castle, and reached Mill Lane on a tram—I saw Lyons there and Smith in the cart—Shuttleworth left me at the top of the street waiting, and went down to a house on the left side, about 50 yards down—Lyons and Smith were standing on the pavement opposite the house—he left me alone about 10 minutes—Lyons and Shuttleworth went inside, and then Lyons came out of the house and called me, and said to me and Smith "Unload," pointing to the cases on the cart, Shuttleworth was inside then—he said "Take them to the back of the house"—we took them off the cart, and carried them to the back of the house—after we had done so Shuttleworth said "Here is 5s.; you know that box of batter what you put up this morning"—Smith said "Yes"—Shuttleworth said "I have left you that"—I cannot say if he said "I have left it by mistake"—Smith and I got up and drove away—I wore this hat when Shuttleworth gave it to me; he doubled the lining in, and made it fit me—he said "That is what they do in Petticoat Lane"—next morning I was arrested on the charge of stealing the pony and cart, on which I have been convicted.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I had been working for Smith, selling flowers; he paid me 6s. a week—I used to sleep in a lodging-house in White Lion Street, Soho—I thought this matter of the warehouse was an innocent transaction; I had no suspicion till the Friday afternoon when the letters were scraped off—I do not go by the name of Wood; Wood was a stranger to me until a fortnight before 19th May; he is not related to me, I am perfectly sure; I have never gone by the name of Wood—I don't know where Smith's stable was before this one in Lower Marsh; I was not with him then—he was quite unknown to me till about seven months ago—I have been in the sailoring line; I did not know he had too we slept at the same lodgings, an ordinary boarding-house—I had nothing to do with moving the tarpaulin, shovel, fork, collar, and baskets from the old stable to the new one—I never knew him till he was occupying Bowley's stable, and those things were all there when I got there—he had two ponies when I joined him in selling flowers at 6s. a week and my food and lodging; we went about with the cart—I heard the evidence of the witnesses at Brentford against us—they charged us with stealing the pony from Mr. Gibbons on 23rd April, and a pony and other articles from
Warren, the costermonger, who knew Smith as Jockell, and a quantity of provender and a sack of Mr. Hewett, of Carnford, on 4th May, and a cart from Mr. Baker on 4th May, and breaking into Mr. Davies's warehouse, and stealing boxes of eggs and a box of butter—White was with me on the Monday before we were taken—when I gave White the hat he gave me his; he put the band on; he was wearing this hat when he was taken—when he said "It belongs to Smith," he did not point to any hat; he said "That is Smith's hat"—all I had from Smith was board and lodging and 1s. a day—all the charges were read over by the Magistrate, and we were asked whether we had anything to say in our defence—I and Smith said that White had nothing to do with them—we had not arranged both to say so in order to try and get White discharged—I said I had nothing to do with stealing the ponies on 23rd April and 29th April, and Baker's cart and Hewett's property, but they took no notice of it—I knew White had nothing to do with it, although I had nothing to do with Smith till after the stables were taken, because I knew White before that; I knew he was at work when the things were stolen—he became acquainted with Smith through me; White had only been with us three or four days; I only knew him a fortnight; I did not know him before the stable was taken—he came and grumbled about his place, and Smith said "You can join us"—White said "All right," and Smith gave us 8s. a week between us and board and lodging—White was as much a servant of Smith as I was—after that we went about in the cart with the broken shaft; I did not know it was stolen; I was surprised when I heard it—on 17th May I was out with Smith in the cart once or twice; I was out between 11 and 3—we were on foot when Shuttleworth came to us in the stable after our return from the drive—I had not been over to Lyons's father's shop in Whitechapel, and sold one of the cases of eggs on the early afternoon of Friday, the 18th; I was not in there on Friday afternoon—I cannot say how many cases were taken on Friday to Shuttleworth—I do not know of any one being taken earlier in the day to Lyons—I went by 'bus to Shuttleworth's—when I got up Shuttleworth said it was 6; that was not true—they said at Brentford that it was done at a quarter past 4, when a man was looking out at the window; we had a breakdown in the cart about a quarter-past 4; three or four policemen saw that, and came and helped us—the door may have been opened by some one inside; I entered immediately behind Shuttleworth—after pointing out the eight cases that were to be removed he stopped there about three or four minutes—before he came out he gave me the hat; I did not see him pick it up; he had it in his hand—from the time he came out he remained outside, having told us to take the things to the stable he left us there; I left him standing there—we got back to the stable between half-past 4 and 5; it was 5 o'clock—I cannot say how far it is from the New Cut to Whitechapel; we went round by the Elephant and Castle by tram—I did not go to Lyons—no receipt was written out for money paid; I did not see Smith sign it—I saw 5s. paid, nothing else; I had none of that—when the police saw us and White driving on the Thursday between 11 and 3, I went to my home in Whitechapel; I would rather not give the address—I swear I am not Smith's brother; I have not passed as his brother. (The witness wrote the address, and handed it to the Court.) I do not want to disgrace my parents, who are respectable people; they did not know I was in custody—that address represents
where my parents live—I went there on Thursday with Smith and White, only I got out of the cart—I simply knocked at the door, and then closed it again; I did not go inside—White got out and wont away, did not go back; I and Smith drove back—that was the only time I have been driving in that cart with Smith and White in Whitechapel—Smith was an entire stranger to me until the stables were taken at which the stolen property was found—Stroud did not say to me, on 15th August, when I was in the cells, "Have you got your paper?"—he said nothing about a paper—I had made a statement to him, which he had written down—another detective was present when I did so—they called Smith in after me; he was in his cell—my statement was put in writing and read over to me; it was correct—there was only one occasion when it was written—the next time I gave that evidence before a Magistrate Stroud did not say to me before I was examined, "Have you got your paper?"—I did not say "Yes, I can sing it like a bird"—Stroud did not let me have the paper to read over before I was called as a witness—I was not sworn at all before the prisoners were before the Magistrate, but when we were charged with this burglary I told Stroud at the police-court who did it—at no time did Stroud give me a paper to read over—I never said to Shuttleworth, when in the cells at Marlborough Street, "If you will pay for a pot of coffee for us we will not make it hot for you"—I said at the police-court Shuttleworth said to me "I will send you as much food as you like, "like he done in Holloway—we had two visits from him in Holloway; he sent us in some food—I was taken in custody an hour and a half after midnight on 19th May at Hounslow—White was in the cart, driving the stolen pony—I had gone out of the cart and gone a little way—Smith and I did not say, on the first charge of suspicion of stealing the pony, that we did not know White, or that White did not know us, that he was a stranger—no silent matches were taken from me—Smith had 3l. 10s. in gold, and 3l. 2s. 6d. in silver, and coppers—I saw that taken from him after midnight on the Friday.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. On 14th August I said before the Magistrate" Shuttleworth gave me and Smith a piece of glass, and told us to scratch the names off the boxes; I refused, and went outside; I came back in 10 minutes, and found the names had been scratched off"—they were just doing them—my recollection was pretty clear at that time—I said nothing about sand-paper before the Magistrate; I did not think of it—he sent me out for sand-paper before he went out, and then he gave me and Smith and Lyons a piece of glass each—I went out, and when I came back the names were scraped off, and then he gave me a piece of sand-paper, and I helped to smooth what was scratched off—I did not go off with the boxes in the cart to Shuttleworth's place—two women and a boy saw Shuttleworth and Lyons.
Re-examined. While I was confined in Holloway waiting my trial on this and other charges Shuttleworth came there twice—he sent me in two dinners, two breakfasts, and a tea—he had some conversation with me—he did not come in the name of Shuttleworth; he would not tell me the name—he said 'Don't you say nothing about it; you are sure to get off; you ain't got no conviction against you; I will send you in some food"—I said "I have told Inspector Stroud already about it"—I had done so—he said "That don't matter what is said at the police-court;
that is nothing; it is what you are going to say up here"—that was at the trial—he said "You are sure to get committed for the Old Bailey"—after Shuttleworth was taken there were three or four in the cell; he did not know Smith was listening—I said to him "Halloa, Shuttleworth"—he said "Halloa"—I said "You are getting on"—he said "I will send you in some food presently if you say only what I told you"—I said "No; I am going to say what I told Inspector Stroud; I am going just to say the truth and nothing more"—he said nothing more—he gave me some coffee and bread and butter—the day following Lyons gave me some bread and butter and coffee—I had conversation with him about different things—Shuttleworth said Lyons was in the place all night; that he (Shuttleworth) only just came there in the morning—the expression "If you will give us a pot of coffee we will not make it hot for you," was never used.
ELIZABETH DAVIS . I am a widow, living at 4, James Street, Lower Harsh, Lambeth—there is a stable at the back of that house—I remember seeing in the stable-yard and near it last May Smith and Taylor—on the Friday before Whit Monday I saw Shuttleworth between 4 and 5 o'clock at my house—I opened the door to him—Lyons, who was with him, said "Are there persons in the name of Wood living here?"—I said "I am sure I do not know; there is no person of the name of Wood living here"—he said "There's young men who occupies stabling at the back here"—I said "There is young men, but I am sure I don't know their names"—I said I would make inquiries, and I asked my sister, Mrs. Bennett—afterwards I came back and said to Shuttleworth and Lyons "There is young men at the back of the yard, but they have gone out"—Lyons said "If they come in before I come back, tell them they ought to be over at Whitechapel by 5 o'clock"—Shuttleworth heard all the conversation, and stood beside Lyons, who spoke—they went away, and came back in about half an hour, rang the bell, and asked if the young men had come back—I said "No; I have not seen them"—about that moment I looked down the street and saw Smith and Taylor, and said "They are the young men"—on that the prisoners went and joined them, and had some conversation with them—I could not tell where they went—shortly after that on the, same day they harnessed the pony and cart, put some half boxes of eggs into it, and drove away with Smith and Taylor in it—that was about half an hour afterwards—I next saw Shuttleworth at the station after he was in custody, on the August Bank Holiday—I identified him from among other people—about 15th August I saw Lyons in the police-court—his appearance was not the same—his moustache was off, and he had a different coloured dress.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I am a lodger at the house; I have been there some time—I did not see Wood move the stuff into the place—I heard them spoken of as brothers of the name of Wood—there are two stables there—Smith had only one—I only saw the sergeant remove one pony and one cart—he did not take away a quantity of straw and corn to my knowledge—he might have taken away tarpaulin baskets, loin cloth, and other things, I did not see them all—I know the brothers Wood were in custody on that Saturday—when I saw the cart driven away with the egg boxes in it, the two Wood brothers went away with it.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I believe the two prisoners here walked away—I never saw them together out of the yard—the entrance
to the stable is separate from that to my house—Lyons had a small moustache.
WILLIAM SMITH (Re-examined by MR. BESLEY). I did not threaten Shuttleworth as I went down the stairs just now—I did not say "Mind if you cross my path"—I just turned and muttered something to him, nothing about coming across his path; no threat—I did not write the name Thomas Wood on this receipt (produced)—I was not told they would have a full signature—I do not exactly know where I was going to between 11 and 3 on Thursday when Harrison saw me and White driving in the cart with a broken shaft—I forget exactly where it was I was going to—I went towards my relations in Whitechapel; not to see them—I went to see a certain party, not a relation—I went to a cookshop in the Whitechapel Road just opposite the London Hospital—I had a few words with a girl there—I had been there before to speak to this girl—I had been there three times before—Taylor was only with me this once; he, White, and I got out of the cart, and all went in and had something to drink—the pony and cart minded itself—we were there perhaps half an hour—I made an appointment to see her again—I did not have time after that to go to Whitechapel again.
By MR. MATHEWS. I cannot write—my Christian name is William—you can trace me back in the service to see I cannot write. By the Jury. I would rather not say what ship I left last.
SARAH BENNETT . I live at 4, James Street, Lower Marsh, Lambeth, and am married—on the afternoon of Friday before Whit Monday, the two prisoners called; I saw them from my back room window—they were in the yard talking—Shuttleworth stood in the middle of the yard and the other man was conversing with either Taylor or Smith, I cannot say which, round the corner—I did not hear what was said—I next saw. Shuttleworth at Marlborough-Street, where I identified him from many others without difficulty—on 18th May, when he was in the yard, I did not see a pony and cart—afterwards, about 8 p. m. I saw the men I knew as Wood drive away in a cart—I had not seen them from then till I saw them at Marlborough Street.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. From my room I believe I can see what goes on in the yard and the stables that were hired by the Wood on 7th May—when a question was asked of my sister she came to know if their names were Wood—they both said they were brothers, and their names were Wood—I speak from positive memory that it was the afternoon of the Friday before Whit Monday—I never saw Shuttleworth there but that once.
By the COURT. The day before Lyons came with another man, not Shuttleworth at all.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I was first called as a witness at Marlborough-Street on the August Bank Holiday, I believe.
Re-examined. I saw Lyons at or about these premises on the day before Friday with an elderly gentleman, not Shuttleworth—that was in the morning between 10 and 11.
EDWARD CADMAN . I am a butcher, of 110, Lower Marsh, Lambeth—some time in the week ending 19th May, before Whit Monday, I saw Smith and Taylor—it was on the day they took the eggs away; the prisoners were with them; it was about 3. 30—they were loading boxes of eggs into a cart—after the boxes had been put in the cart, Lyons said
to Taylor "I paid for the eggs a day or two ago," and it was time to let him have them—I did not hear the answer—after that I went in the stables, and the prisoners left the yard; I don't know how they left it—Taylor and Smith went out afterwards in the pony and cart.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Shuttleworth was there one afternoon in May—I knew the stables before that—I knew of the moving in of the brothers Wood—they told me they were brothers, and their names were Wood—I do not know where they moved from—I saw a lot of the property brought there; two carts, two ponies, and all the property which the police carried away on the 19th—it was on the afternoon before that, Friday, 18th May, that Shuttleworth was there—I was first asked to remember any conversation that took place on that day when I went to Marlborough Street—I had had nothing to impress it on my mind from May to August—I was in the stable standing against them.
Re-examined. I am quite sure I heard those words; I was outside the stable—I could not see into the street from where I was; the gates were closed—when I got into the cart outside the gates I could not see inside.
By the COURT. I did not see the prisoners after this conversation—I did not see them go, but they left—I went into the stable to clean my employer's horse—when I saw Smith and Taylor go away in the cart the prisoners were no longer there—the stable is shut off from James Street by gates.
THOMAS JONES (Police Sergeant C). I went to this stable and found the stolen property there on 19th May—I found this butter box there containing butter—afterwards Smith, Taylor, and White were in my custody charged with this amongst other offences—from White's head I took this brown hat—Mr. Davies has identified the box.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. got Bowley, of Brixton, to attend the Court—the whole of the contents of the stable were identified as stolen goods except one empty box that we left behind—there were two ponies, the property of different people—I was informed that Smith and Taylor had informed the people in the yard their name was Wood, and that they were brothers, and they said they lived at 92, Stamford Street—I made inquiries, to ascertain if they had any parents living—I had no information about any one in Whitechapel—I did not come across their parents; I could not trace them; they gave no address—I know no ships in which either of them has served.
EDWARD TALLIN (Police Sergeant C). On Saturday, 4th August, about 11.30, I arrested Shuttleworth at Leman Street Police-station—I told him he would be charged with two other men already in custody with being concerned in breaking and entering 13, Avery Row, and receiving a large quantity of butter and eggs and a pair of opera glasses—he said "It is a mistake; you have got the wrong man"—I took him to Marlborough Mews Police-station, and he was charged on Sunday morning—he made no answer—he made a communication to Inspector Stroud after he was charged—he was brought before the Magistrate on the 6th—on the morning of the 14th I arrested Lyons—I saw him identified from among a number of other men, by Smith and Taylor—I charged him when Smith identified him—he said "Yes, that is right; I bought half a case of eggs of that man (pointing to Smith), but I know about nothing else, only
the eggs"—I charged him with the same offence as I had charged Shuttleworth—he made no answer.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. All I had to do with the matter in May against White and the two Woods was that I and Stroud made inquiries as to the property found in their possession—I visited them at Holloway with Stroud—I was present when Stroud wrote down the statement—I took Shuttleworth with a warrant, after the convicts had made their statements, about 4th August—I did not know between 4th August and 14th that Shuttleworth had subpœnaed Lyons as his witness—there was a hearing on 7th August against Shuttleworth only, and the next hearing was on the 14th—Lyons did not attend at the police-court to give evidence, because we saw and arrested him there—I did not know what he came for—I found on him the subpoena that Shuttleworth's solicitor had served on him—he was charged on the 15th—on the 4th August Shuttleworth told me that the Wood brothers had been introduced to him by Lyons in consequence of Lyons bringing the half case of eggs—the receipt was not shown to me before it was shown to the Magistrate—we knew nothing about it till it was produced—something was produced in the shape of a receipt before the Magistrate—I went to see Shuttleworth a week before his arrest at the house in Wentworth Street—I had been to see him between 19th May and that date, and I kept observation there night after night, but I did not see him—I asked his wife where he was—she said "In the country," but did not know when he would be back, or where he was—that was after May—I did not ask her to make an appointment with him for me to come—I know the man well—he has got several children—he has a son-in-law living at Mill Row—I do not know if the son-in-law manages that place; I have left the neighbourhood for some time—I believe the place at Mill Row is principally kept for storing eggs and butter—some member of the family lives there—I believe Shuttleworth lives in Wentworth Street—I had nothing to do with making the charge against Smith and Taylor—the wife allowed me to search when I went there before Shuttleworth was in custody, when it was said he was in the country—I know the wife very well—there was no obstruction to my making a thorough search of the premises.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Lyons's father's place of business is in Wentworth Street—he may assist his father—I know nothing against him—I kept observation on the premises.
Re-examined. Lyons lives it might be 150 yards from Shuttleworth in Wentworth Street—I had been watching Lyons's place and could not see him anywhere—my visits to Shuttleworth when I saw his wife were soon after the trial here in July—I then learned he was in the country, and that was all I could learn.
By MR. LAWLESS. I did not say before the Magistrate that I had kept observation on Lyons, because I was not asked.
WILLIAM STROUD (Inspector C). On August 5th I was at Marlborough Mews Police Station, when Shuttleworth was identified from among a number of others by the two women—I told him what he would be charged with—he said "I buy goods, I never buy stolen property, and I never committed a burglary in my life"—a statement was made by Smith and Taylor jointly at Brentford Police Court before they were committed for trial—I was not present at the trial, but after it I had the
Secretary of State's order to visit them in prison, and took down their statements in writing in company with Tallin—I took the statement when the convicts were apart; Taylor's first, and afterwards Smith's, and they were read over and signed—that was a fortnight after their conviction—in consequence of those statements I caused observation to be kept in Wentworth Street on the prisoners' places; and called myself on two occasions, but was not successful in securing Shuttleworth—I caused observation to be made—Shuttleworth was arrested on the 4th, and Lyons on August 14th.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. One of the occasions of my going to Shuttleworth's was when I searched the premises—that was after the committal and before the trial of the two convicts—the wife gave me every possible facility to search—I have not got the original statements here—they were privileged documents, I presumed—I never informed my superiors that people living in the locality knew the convicts as brothers of the name of Wood—I did not know it to be the fact—I do not believe it is—I am the same officer that Sir Edward Clarke dealt with in the Titley trial. Re-examined. I am an inspector of seventeen years' service.
ROBERT DAVIS . I live at 13A, Avery Row, over the warehouse—on the Friday morning, 19th, my attention was called to the premises being broken open—I saw a horse and cart outside, and one man putting the cases in—one man could not have done it, but I could only see one—as I was dressing myself they drove off—this was 4. 15 o'clock—I heard a knocking and got up and looked to see what it was.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I saw a man putting a case on a cart—I did not notice if the cart had a broken shaft, or whether the pony had a nose-bag on—I was taken to Brentford to see some ponies, the brown pony was the one I saw, I believe—I knew the knocking proceeded from the office, I heard the actual breaking because our bedroom is over there—there must have been two men to handle the boxes, but you can't see over our cane blinds, and I could see a man at one end, but the other end I could not see—I think Smith was the man I saw—I fix the exact time of their making off at 4. 15, because I had Mr. Davies up, and we were giving intelligence at Marlborough Street at 4. 30.
ROBERT WHITE . I am eighteen—I was convicted here in July last of several offences, this amongst them—I had nothing to do with taking the things from Avery Row—when arrested I was wearing this brown hat which Taylor gave me, changing it for mine on the day I was taken, Saturday.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. That was at Brentford—I was found in the stolen cart with the stolen pony—I had been employed by Smith for four days before the 19th—I knew Taylor; I did not know him as Smith's brother—Taylor told me Smith's name was Wood—I do not remember going down to Whitechapel between 11 and 3 in the cart with Smith and Taylor on the Thursday before I was arrested—I was not seen by the police riding in the cart—I did not go down to Taylor's home—we did not go to a confectioner's shop opposite the London Hospital for Smith to speak to a young woman or to have food there.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I knew Taylor as John Bogan, and Smith as Wood—I and Taylor were in Smith's employment.
Witnesses for Shuttleworth's defence.
FRANK HORACE BERTIE . I am a solicitor of 10, Benham Place, Gracechurch Street—I was consulted by Shuttleworth with regard to the charge of burglary against him on Sunday evening, 5th August—he had been arrested on the previous Saturday, and was at Marlborough Street—I saw him there on Monday, morning; his wife brought this receipt on Monday afternoon, 6th August—it then had these file holes through it as now; this is the only document—I was before the Magistrate at the first hearing on the 6th; the convicts were not there, I objected to their statements being used in evidence, and Shuttleworth was remanded for eight days, and not admitted to bail—on the Tuesday or Wednesday afternoon before the 14th, Mrs. Shuttleworth brought Lyons, and I took from him a statement as to what he could prove; I caused him to be served with a subpoena on the 13th for his attendance on the 14th—I saw Stroud on the 14th and told him I intended to call Lyons as a witness; he had not arrived then—within a quarter of an hour after I saw Lyons coming down the court, and two detectives took him in the corridor of the court—directly after he was put in the box the depositions were read over—on the 15th, after Smith's examination, I saw Shuttleworth in the cells—as I passed out I saw the two convicts in two adjoining cells; I should say they were so close together that they had opportunity for conversing—Mrs. Wise was about the police-court, but was not examined—I got the Magistrate to mark the receipt on the 15th—I have had it in my possession ever since, with the exception of yesterday.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I was consulted by Shuttleworth's son on Sunday, 5th August—I did not know then what the charge was I gathered that next morning from the prisoner—I don't know that I knew the exact charge till the case was opened on the 6th—he told me he understood the charge was one of receiving these eggs, nothing was said about burglary—no witnesses for the defence were called before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Lyons was arrested on the 14th, and committed for trial on the 15th.
Re-examined. I did not call witnesses acting on the advice of the Magistrate, who intimated that he would send the case for trial—he admitted the receipt.
HENRIETTA WISE . I am the wife of Beniamin Wise—we lodge at 14 and 15, Mill Row, the premises occupied by Shuttleworth—about 4 p. m. on 18th May I saw Lyons, whom I had seen several times before, at Mill Row with two other men whom I have not seen since—the two men brought in six half cases of eggs—Shuttleworth came in afterwards, and asked me to make the bill out, the same as I generally did, for him—Mrs. Shuttleworth was ill—Shuttleworth is not a scholar; I have been in the habit of making out bills for him—I made out this bill: "Shuttleworth bought of Mr. Wood six half cases of damaged eggs, 6l. 6s., paid to Thomas Wood"—my little boy fetched the stamp—I saw the stouter of the two men write the words" Thomas Wood"—Smith's face looks familiar to me as the man—he put "Paid" on it first, and Shuttleworth looked at it, and said "I am no scholar, and I want your name in full," and he came to me for my pen again, and then took it out to Smith, and he wrote it—I don't know Taylor sufficiently; I was not in the yard long enough to notice him—at the time this was being written out I saw
Shuttleworth produce gold and more than 1l. of silver together—I did not notice that the money was counted—I cannot say who took it up; it was not there after the men had gone—I remember this Friday, because it was the Friday before Whitsuntide week—I was engaged in painting some boxes.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I usually write out the bills for Shuttleworth, even when his wife is up and about—they used to live on these premises, but were not there at this time—they used to keep some of their goods there—I went into my own room to write this bill out—Shuttleworth went with me and the daughter, Mrs. Bowman, stayed there—I wrote it under Shuttleworth's direction; he always told me what to put down—there is no date to it—he took it down into the yard, and I followed him to get on with my work—my attention was still fixed on him and on what he was doing—I saw two men; I did not notice them—I put the stamp on—the word "Paid" was written on in the passage that leads from my door into the yard—I could not say if that was the young man; it was the stouter of the two—the ink was procured from my room; Shuttleworth fetched it and the pen, and "Paid" was written; then Shuttleworth said "I am no scholar; I want your name in full"—he could not read the word "Paid," but he could see the name—I have never seen him write—the top of it is in a distinct writing to that which is lower down—I write different Sometimes; I didn't do it on purpose; I write anyhow as I take the pen up—when Smith was writing" Paid," the bill was on top of the egg chest—I saw money pass; I cannot say I saw any gold pass, but I saw a lot of money, all piled up there, which he gave the man—I was not close enough to see if any gold passed; I won't say that; I saw plenty of silver; I saw silver to the amount of some pounds—the other person was present, and Lyons, Shuttleworth, and myself, the daughter, my husband, and two lodgers—I cannot tell you why there is no date on the document—it did not strike me as peculiar at the time—I generally put dates on receipts—I gave this receipt to Shuttleworth, and he gave it to the stoutest man of the two—I never saw it after that—the stoutest of the two signed it—I cannot say it was Smith.
Re-examined. I wrote all of it except the words "Paid to Thomas Wood"—I am no relation to Shuttleworth—I have been lodging with my husband on the premises for three years—some time before Shuttleworth had been living there, but in April I think he went to live at Wentworth Street—Mrs. Shuttleworth does not enjoy good health—there were pounds of silver on the chest, more than 5s. I cannot say if there was any gold—my husband, Lyons, and Good were painting boxes that afternoon for cocoa-nut throwing at Woodford on the Monday—we are on the floor level with the street, so there was no going upstairs to get the ink—the ink and pen were brought out to where the egg boxes were—I had never seen the two men before.
JOHN WILMOT . In May I occupied unfurnished rooms at 14 and 15, Mill Row, which was used as a store for Shuttleworth's business—I have lodged there over 12 months—on 18th May, the Friday before Whit Monday, I was helping to paint some boxes for the Monday for roll, bowl, or pitch, which we get our living by—two people came in a pony and cart with six half cases of eggs in it—the cases were brought into Shuttleworth's place a little while afterwards, and I saw Shuttle-worth
put his hand in his trousers pocket, and pull out about 3l. in gold, and more in silver, I think—it was put on one egg box, and the taller man picked it up and put it in his pocket—Mrs. Wise put a paper before the taller man, who took the money—I cannot read—it was going on for 4 o'clock—I and Lyons, a man that works for Shuttleworth and Mrs. Wise's husband, were there; the three of us were helping to paint the boxes—Mrs. Bowman was there—Smith was the man who took the money; I should not know the other man—I have seen Shuttleworth buy hundreds of damaged eggs at his place; they are stored at Mill Row—he lives at Whitechapel, where he has a shop.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. He went to live at Whitechapel about five months ago; it might be longer or shorter—up to that time he had lived at his shop in Wentworth Street—I have known him ever since I was a little boy—I know the shop in Wentworth Street—I do not know the prisoner Lyons—the Lyons who was working for Shuttleworth is another man—I don't remember if the prisoner Lyons was there—I had never seen the man Shuttleworth gave the money to till the day he brought the eggs—I did not go to the police-court—I did not know that Shuttleworth was charged with this burglary till a few weeks ago; I heard it on the Saturday night that he was taken from his shop—I did not know he was before the Magistrate on 6th, 14th, and 15th August—I heard he was taken for buying some eggs; we all heard it down where he keeps his stables from different neighbours—my attention was first taken back to the 18th when I heard Shuttleworth was locked up for buying eggs; I thought they were the eggs I had seen brought down there—I have been with him at different places buying with his horse and van—no one called my attention back to the date—I saw Mr. Bertie that morning, but he would not speak to any one—he first came to me on last Monday week—I saw Mrs. Wise this morning; she lives downstairs and I upstairs; I spoke to her—Mrs. Wise gave the tall man a piece of paper and pen and ink; what he put on it I can't say—it was the tall man who took the money, who signed it, I am certain—there was a lot of gold in the money—Shuttleworth put it on top of one of the empty egg boxes—I am no relation of Shuttleworth or Lyons; I do not work for them—Shuttleworth has stables at the top of his place at Mill Row; he has three horses and three carts—he had them on 17th May; he had had them a long time.
Re-examined. Lyons, Mrs. Wise, and his daughter went with me to Mr. Bertie—he asked me what I knew; I told him—a shorthand writer, I believe, was writing what I said—Mrs. Shuttleworth asked me to go to him.
ANNIE BOWMAN . I am the wife of Edward Bowman, of 14 and 15, Mill Row—I am Shuttleworth's daughter—in May I and my husband were caretakers of the house—on the Friday before Whitsuntide I saw Lyons, whom I knew before, and two men; I think Smith was one; he has altered; I believe him to be the man—I do not recognise Taylor—they bad a pony and trap and some eggs—Lyons asked for Shuttleworth, who was not in at that time—I said he was not in, and "If you want him you will find him at No. 4, Wentworth Street," and they went away then, and left the pony and cart outside—they came back before long; Shuttleworth had returned then—he spoke to Lyons; I did not hear what he said—six half cases of eggs were brought in from the pony and
cart—I saw money produced, 2l. or 3l. of silver, I should say, and some gold; it was put on a half case of eggs—I saw Mrs. Wise draw up a document like this in her back room; I was standing at the door—afterwards Smith, the man that took the money, signed "Paid" on it—Shuttleworth said "I am no scholar; would you mind putting your name to it?"—then they had the pen brought again, and put their names—I saw the stamp put on; it was fetched from the baker's shop by a little boy—I did not see these eggs afterwards—Shuttleworth deals very largely in damaged eggs—they are sorted at our place or at the shop; some are good for eating and other purposes, and some are good for pickling only—I have many times seen them bought at the shop door from men and vans, who bring them round.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. That is the way in which my father's business is usually done, buying from such persons as these at the door—my father has a shop at Wentworth-Street, and this ware-house at Mill Row—he has books showing his transactions. Mrs. Wise keeps them at Mill Row—I think he went away this year into the country; I cannot say the month—I never heard of Smith and Taylor being tried, I did not attend the trial—it did not come to my knowledge that either of them had accused my father of being an accomplice in this crime before my father was taken—I only knew my father was locked up—none of my family attended the trial here in July or before the Magistrates—I never knew that Smith when arrested had a sum of silver and gold on him—I knew on the Saturday that my father was taken on that day—I went on the Wednesday, I think, to the police court, I was not allowed in—my mother told me on the Sunday that my father was taken—I was at the police court two days running, but was not called—I have known Lyons a long while, on and off, by dealing with my father, who has known him a long time, I believe—he serves Lyons's shop with eggs and butter—Lyons, has a cook's shop and confectioner's in Wentworth Street—I believe my father and he have had dealings together for some time past—my father cannot read—he can tell if there is no name—I don't know if he can read the word "Paid," I suppose he can—he called attention to the fact there was no name, and then the name was put—I have no doubt that it was the taller of the two men who took the money and wrote the name—this transaction was not the kind of thing my father was in the habit of doing—he was in the habit of buying eggs at the warehouse door, but they always brought their bills with them, that was the difference—on the Saturday that my father was locked up, my attention was first directed back to this matter—I could not recall all the incidents before he was taken to the Court—I cannot say that I recalled them all then—I went with Mrs. Wise and Wilmot to outside Mr. Bertie's—we had not been talking over this matter at all before we got there—I knew what I was going for—we did not tell each other what it was we remembered before we got there—my father keeps three horses and carts at Mill Row.
BENJAMIN WISE . I live at 14 and 15, Mill Row—I am a time porter—on Friday, May 18th, I was painting some boxes in the passage—I saw Shuttleworth come home with some eggs—I first saw Lyons there from 4 o'clock to 5 o'clock—Smith, whom I had not seen before, was with him and another one, Taylor—I saw a pony and cart standing outside—my wife took a piece of paper and made a bill out; I do not read or write—
after she had written out something, she brought it out on the boxes and Smith signed it—I saw Shuttleworth pay some money, a quantity of silver and gold, I could not say how much—the man that signed the receipt took the money.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. My wife has kept Shuttleworth's books ever since we lived there, over 21/2 years—people used to call in this way and deliver boxes from time to time, just as these people did, from ponies and carts—I don't know about buying them, they would come home there—I never hardly saw Shuttleworth pay for them; I was hardly ever at home—two people besides myself were painting the boxes for Whit Monday on the Friday before—on August 4th, when Shuttleworth was caught, my attention was first directed back to May 18th—I knew what he was charged with—nobody told me he was caught—nobody asked me if I remembered the Friday when I was painting the boxes—I went with Mrs. Bowman and Mr. Wilmot to Mr. Bertie's about a fortnight ago and gave my first statement—I did not go to the Police Court—I made no communication to anybody before I did to Mr. Bertie.
Re-examined. I understood Shuttleworth was charged with buying eggs—I heard a day or two after he was taken that he was charged with having broken into premises in New Bond Street.
ABRAHAM LYONS . I live at 15, Mill Row, and have been employed by Shuttleworth about seven months—on Friday, 18th May, I was painting some boxes for Whit Monday, and saw a pony and cart and two men come with some eggs, which they took in to Mill Row—I did not take so much notice of the men as that I should know either of them—I saw Shuttleworth put some gold and silver out of his pocket on the half-cases of eggs—I cannot say the amount—I saw a paper on the cases, and Shuttleworth said to the man "Come and sign your name," and one of the men did so—I examined one of the half-cases after Shuttleworth paid the money; I found a quantity of spots and cracks in it—every morning, except Sunday, a few minutes after six, I take the horse and cart from the stables in Mill Row round to Wentworth Street, about a mile off—the morning of the day when I was painting the boxes and the eggs came I went down just after six—Shuttleworth opened the door to me—he had on his trousers, waistcoat, shirt, and and kerchief—I bed the horse down every night—when I took the pone on that Friday, before six o'clock, I am sure he had not been used at all in the night.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. AS a rule Shuttleworth would open the door—he was dressed all but his coat, his shirt-sleeves were turned up—I am his carman—not many egg boxes are delivered at Mill Row—I have never seen young men delivering eggs from a barrow before, we take our own horses and bring them home—Shuttleworth tells me what to do—Shuttleworth has his name on the carts—I remember the Friday, because I was taken off my job to clear the place to put the eggs in.
Re-examined. I saw Mr. Bertie a day or two ago—I am no relation of Lyons.
EDWARD BOWMAN . I live at 14, Mill Row, Kingsland, and am a dealer, and Shuttleworth's son-in-law—on 17th May, Thursday, I was told in the morning that nuts were cheap, and I went to Shuttleworth at Wentworth Street between 12 and 1 o'clock, and borrowed some
money from him; I then went to Duke's Place and bought some nu' and I came back and showed them to Shuttleworth, who was at the Wentworth Street shop, from two to half-past—I daresay I stood talking to him for 20 minutes to half an hour—the day after I was out selling fish.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I heard my father-in-law was in custody, I daresay about six weeks ago, on the day he was taken—I did not go before the Magistrate—I gave my statement to Mr. Bertie about a week ago, I should think—I deal in nuts at holiday times, and buy them before every Bank Holiday—I read in the paper that Shuttleworth, on the Thursday, was at Lambeth at half-past two, and when I referred back to my memory I thought it was impossible—I recollected I had been with him at that hour on that day—I am sure it was half-past two I was with him—I saw it in the paper on the Sunday after Shuttleworth was at the police-court—I don't know Lower James Street—I know the New Cut—I think it would take half an hour to three-quarters of an hour to walk from Wentworth Street to the New Cut.
Re-examined. I daresay it would take three-quarters; I never tried it—I bought 35s. worth of cocoa nuts, I think—that is a very small outlay; about 200 are as many as I require for Bank Holiday—I dispose of them, by people pitching in boxes—I am quite sure it was before Whit Monday I borrowed this money, and at the very time.
SUSANNAH SHUTTLEWORTH . I am Shuttleworth's daughter—I live with him and my mother and other members of the family at 4, Wentworth Street—we lived there in May—I slept on the top floor, above my father and mother, who sleep on the first floor above the shop—the shop is level with the street; it is a wholesale egg and butter shop—I have a sister Fanny, 10 years old, who sleeps in my father's room—on 18th May the prisoner Lyons came in at from 12 to 1 o'clock and spoke to my father, who went out that afternoon, and came back at 6 o'clock—I was not at Mill Row—my father was sleeping at Wentworth Street all that week—on the 17th, the day before Lyons came, my father was at home—the parlour, where we had previously had meals next the shop, was altered and made into a store—the dresser was taken upstairs—my father never went out all day Thursday.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. When Lyons came across he said "Miss Shuttleworth, where is your father?"—father came out and said "What do you want, Mr. Lyons?"—he said "A man drawed up to my door in a cart; I bought half a case of cheap eggs of him; the man has got six more; are you the buyer?"—father said "Yes, if they are cheap"—I heard no more; I went outside.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. My father did not say he should want to know where they came from—I am away from home; I cannot say if he usually buys from people with a pony and cart in the street—all he said was he would buy if they were cheap—I have known Lyons a good while—I don't know if he knows my father very well—my father serves him with eggs, and he comes for them—we deal in large quantities of eggs—my mother keeps the books—when we sell eggs we put them down—when we buy eggs my father tells my mother, and she writes it down—I knew it was the 17th, because my father said "Today is the 17th," and I said "Seven more days to my birthday"—
another reason was I was going to Southend on the Monday—my father was at home on Thursday, the 17th, because we had a load of eggs come in from Mr. Fisher, and he was there to receive them—my father used to stop at home a good many whole days—I fix on Thursday, because we were having the place altered, and father kept me at home to work—he never went out the whole day—I did not see Lyons on the Thursday—I did not go out the whole of Thursday; I was in the shop serving; my father was there too the whole day—I went to Southend on the Monday—I heard on a Saturday night that my father was in custody—he had not been away in the country just before that—I think he was away from the premises during July; I cannot remember for how long—I do not remember the police coming; my mother did not tell me they had been—I don't know if my father was away then—I read in the paper that Smith had made statements about my father being a party to this burglary—I have not heard about any quantity of money being found on Smith—none of our family attended the trial in July; I don't know if anybody from us did.
JAMES SHUTTLEWORTH . I live at 4, Wentworth Street, and am a son of the defendant, and a provision dealer—I live at the premises, 4, Wentworth Street, with my father, mother, and four unmarried sisters—all the week before Whitsuntide my father was at home—he slept in the first floor front room—I closed the shop up every night from 11 to 12 o'clock—my father opened the premises next morning on every occasion from half-past 5 to a quarter to 6 o'clock—I was setting up at this time—my father generally gets up about 5 o'clock, when the milkman calls him—if my father went out he would have to wake me up to come in, because there are two locks on the door, and he could not get in in the morning without my knowing it—he was at home all day on 17th May, having the place altered to make a storeroom of it for eggs—on the next day, Friday, he did not go out till 2 o'clock, and he returned at 6 o'clock—my little sister Fanny sleeps in the room with my father—I saw Lyons passing that week, not calling at the shop—I heard he called on Friday—the milkman comes at half-past 5 or a quarter to 6—I did not hear him on Friday; I am right at the top—my father generally takes the milk in—I first saw detectives in connection with this case it might be a fortnight or three weeks after Whit Monday—they came, and I showed them over the place; they had a candle, and searched—they asked me if I had another place—I said "Yes, 14 and 15, Mill Row"—they said they were going on there—I gave them every opportunity of searching my place.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I am an egg dealer in business for myself at 4, Wentworth Street; it is my business; my father buys for me at a salary, he has no interest in the business—the warehouses at Mill Row belongs to Mr. Bowman, who lets them out to me; the stables belong to me—my goods are taken to Wentworth Street, none of them are taken to Mill Row; that is a warehouse where my father warehouses goods he buys for me—he might buy for himself—some of the things that go there are his—I have a pony and cart at the stables—my father has horses and carts with his name on them—he was in the country the first time that the detectives came—he was doing business—the detectives were not told he was in the country—my father did not go into the country for about eight weeks after that—I cannot say the date—I never
heard of the trial of White, Taylor, and Smith—Mrs. Wise usually keeps the books of my business at Wentworth Street—my mother is not much of a scholar, she can write a little—I do not enter in the books all I buy or sell—I have a file to put all the bills on—there is one book connected with the business at 4, Wentworth Street—Wentworth Street is about a mile from Mill Row—my father was at home the whole of 17th May, so was I; I did not leave the house that day—I remember that day—I was at home the night my father was taken—I did not go before the Magistrate—I cannot read or write.
Re-examined. It was about a week before my father was taken that he went into the country; he goes into the country buying four or five times a year for about a week.
FANNY SHUTTLEWORTH . I am ten years old and am Shuttleworth's daughter; I sleep in my father's room—on the Thursday when the things were being altered my father was in doors all day—the next day he had his dinner and went out and came in at 6 o'clock—that Thursday night he slept with mother; I was in the room—I went to bed between 9 and 10—I always get up about 9 or 8—my father got up about 6 o'clock when the milkman called him; I saw him get out of bed.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. My father did not go out at all on the Thursday—I don't know if my brother was at home all day—my sister Susannah was at home all day—no one told me to remember whether my father was at home on that day—I am never hardly asleep at night, I am a bad sleeper—the milkman knocks at the door every morning, and when my father is there he goes and opens the door—no one sleeps in the room besides my father, mother, and myself—my other sisters sleep upstairs.
SOLOMAN SPEIRA . I live at Oat Street, Backchurch Lane, Whitechapel, and was in Shuttleworth's employment up till, and on, 19th May—there were a great many sales of eggs at that time in consequence of Harpenden Races—on Thursday, 17th May, before the Saturday when I left him, he was at home downstairs all day helping me count eggs—I came to work on Friday morning at 6. 30; I saw Shuttleworth in the shop serving customers—I did not see the furniture taken upstairs, I was in the shop downstairs—I saw no alterations made about that time—I left the employment on the 19th and was taken on again afterwards.
WILLIAM SHUTTLEWORTH . I am Shuttleworth's son—on the Friday morning before Whit-Sunday I saw Lyons at our shop in Wentworth Street between 9 and 10, I think—he had some conversation with my father, and afterwards my father went to Lyons's shop—I remained at our shop—I saw one half case of eggs at Lyons's shop as I passed it—on the Friday afternoon I saw six cases of eggs at our own place.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I saw the half case of eggs at Lyons's shop in the morning; his shop is not far from ours—I saw it as we were taking a tub of butter to Mr. Bond's—I saw two men outside at the time with a cart; they took the half case off the cart, and took it in—that was about 9. 15, before Lyons came over to father.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I work as carman for my father—the business at Wentworth Street is my brother's—there is no warehouse at Mill Row, only a stable—sometimes we put eggs there, as regards the season; they are my brother's—my father is in business as an egg merchant at Mill Row—he used to work for my brother; he had no business
of his own then—I don't know if the things placed at Mill Row belonged to my father or brother—I work for my father, who pays my wages—sometimes I work for my brother and sometimes for myself—I buy rough butter and damaged eggs from my father and brother for myself, and hawk them—I have known Lyons a tidy while—he used to come to me and I went to him—I have seen him at my brother's shop speaking to my father and brother—I have never seen him and my father out in the street together—he would come to buy eggs and butter, and my father would go to Lyons to sell eggs—it was Friday, the 18th, I have been speaking of
JOHN JONES . I am a milkman, of 170, Brick Lane, Whitechapel—in May last I served Shuttleworth, and I called him up every morning between 5 and 6—he generally heard me; if he did not I should knock—I heard his voice on every occasion; that applies to the whole of May.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I would stand outside and call to Shuttleworth, and he would holloa out of the window, or sometimes come down and open the door; sometimes he was up before I got there—I usually got there at 5.30, sometimes it was a quarter to 6, never 6—that lasted two or three months.
GEORGE PARSONS . I am shopboy in James Shuttleworth, junior's, employment at 4, Wentworth Street; I have been there two years—at first I was shopboy to the prisoner—on 17th May Shuttleworth's back parlour was being made into a store room, and for that purpose the furniture had to be moved upstairs into the back room—during the whole of that day I was on the premises, and Shuttleworth was at home helping to move the things upstairs—I slept there every night in the back room, in the room next to where Mr. and Mrs. Shuttleworth slept—I got up at 6 a. m.; the milkman called me; I generally heard him; if I did not Shuttleworth called me—no one can get into the house from outside without being let in from inside, because there is no key outside and there is a bolt to one of the doors—on the Friday morning after the alterations Shuttleworth was just coming downstairs when I got up; he was dressed except his coat—I remember that time, because on the following Monday I was to have my day's holiday—on the Friday Lyons came and asked me whether Shuttleworth was in, and I told him no—I did not see him again afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. Shuttleworth was in all day on Friday—on Saturday he went out in the afternoon—I cannot tell you whether he was at home on the Thursday all day—I remember the Friday by his coming downstairs on that morning.
Re-examined. The alterations were made on the 17th—when I say Shuttleworth was in all day on the Friday I mean the day of the alterations; he was in all day then—the next day I got up at 6 and saw him then—on that day he went out in the afternoon; that was the day that Lyons came.
GEORGE WATERS (Policeman T 445). I took Smith on a charge of horse stealing—I searched him at the station, and found 3l. 10s. in gold, 3l. 2s. 6d. in silver, 4 1/2 d. bronze, four keys, and a box of silent matches on him—I had never seen him or Taylor before.
RANSOM WALLACE . I am one of the firm of Wallace, Sons, and Lidstone, egg importers—the custom of the trade as to buying damaged eggs is that little shopkeepers are waited on at their doors by egg hawkers' vans
—I send out eggs to the hawkers; nine-tenths of the eggs are so sold—it is quite usual that two men go round with a cart—I think they were bound to give a receipt if they took the money—spotted and damaged eggs are worth 2s. 6d. to 3s. or 4s. a 100—at 3s. 6d. per 100 they would come to about 36s. or 37s. the half box—it would depend on how many spotted and cracked ones there were.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. They are sold by the trade 100—egg boxes are generally put in a stable, because they stink the warehouse out—you can generally tell by the look whether they are damaged or not—these people who go about selling eggs are the egg merchants of London, and are connected with the egg trade.
GEORGE BASLEMAN . I am a wholesale provision merchant at Great Tower Street—I have known Shuttleworth some years; he has purchased large quantities of damaged eggs from me, dealing extensively in damaged eggs and rough butter—I have sold him as many as sixty cases at a time for 6s. a case to 8s., 1,440 eggs—the first three months of this year I should say I sold him 200 cases of eggs at from 6s. to 12s.—some were damaged and cracked and a good many good—I should like to have the chance of buying eggs at a guinea the half case—it depends on the time of year and how much they are damaged—sometimes he looked at them, and sometimes took them on my word, and I always found him straightforward—I do not think it would be unusual for damaged eggs to be taken in a cart to be sold.
CHARLES BOWN . I represent Messrs. Barker and Co., of Mark Lane—it is not unusual to find men going round in carts to sell damaged eggs—a guinea for a half case of slightly damaged eggs is very fair value—I could not tell unless I saw the eggs.
Cross-examined. I have had dealings with Shuttleworth—his usual trade is in damaged eggs—I have sold him other goods—I should sell him damaged eggs at 6s. and 10s., it depends on conditions—10s. a half case would be fair value, taking the average of the eggs he dealt in—if their condition was very bad they would not be worth so much.
SOCHSFKI HARRIS . I am a confectioner of 76, Commercial Street—I sometimes buy damaged eggs in my business—sometimes people come to me and sometimes I go to them—I have bought them at my door of men coming round in a cart.
Cross-examined. I have never gone with the men to a stable and seen seven or eight boxes of eggs—I have business books in which I enter my transactions.
ERNEST ALBERT GARRETT . I am a salesman to William Toppy and Company, of Thames Street—a guinea per half case of damaged eggs is a very fair price indeed—in order to test the price it is necessary to see the quality of the damage—in the trade eggs are sold by men going round with vans to the different suburbs.
Cross-examined. A guinea for damaged eggs is rather a high price—it is a high price for a whole case of 1,440, it depends on the damage—very often eggs are sold in the whole case—we have sold them at 9. and 1s. per 100, which would represent 10s. a whole case as fair value for damaged eggs.
Witnesses for Lyons' Defence. NATHANIEL BARNETT. I live at 10, Rutland-Street, New-Road, Whitechapel, and am Lyons' brother-in-law—I slept at his house, and with
him in the same bed on Wednesday night, May 16th, and each night until the following Monday, because my wife was confined at the time, and it was not convenient for me to sleep at home—he lives ten or twelve minutes' walk from me—he, his wife, and children, and servant live there—his wife slept in an adjoining room with the servant—they have only two rooms—we got up about 8 o'clock the first morning I slept there; it was our holidays—on the Friday I got up at 7. 30 or 8 o'clock—he got up about quarter to 5 o'clock on the Friday—he works opposite—on Saturday he slept late, the same as myself.
Cross-examined. Lyons is a pastry-cook—I cannot say what the number is in Wentworth Buildings where he lives, or what the number of his shop is—I only saw Shuttleworth once to my recollection—I and Lyons were standing talking on the Saturday, and Shuttleworth came with his pony and cart, he had some bags of straw in it—he nodded to Lyons, and I said "Who is that?"—he said "That is Mr. Shuttleworth, got an egg shop"—here is the certificate of my child's birth—I believe my wife is in Court—we had no bedding to make a bed up on the sofa; my wife slept with the servant and I with the prisoner; we had never done that before or since. Re-examined. I was outside the Court until I was called as a witness.
LYDIA HOWITT . I have been living as servant with Lyons and his family at 24, Wentworth Street, for the last eight months—Barnett came there on May 16th, on account of his wife being confined, and stayed there for about five nights—I generally get up about 7 a. m.—I remember seeing Lyons go to work a little before 5 o'clock on the 18th, two nights after Barnett came—I woke up with his shutting the street door and going out—on the Friday night Lyons and his wife went to the Princess's Theatre—that helps to fix it in my mind.
Cross-examined. Lyons did not go to work at all on Thursday, because it was a Jewish holiday—I am no relation of his—he did not remain indoors all Thursday—he went out about 7 o'clock and came back about 11.30, saying he had been to the Cambridge—I went to bed a few minutes before 12 on Thursday night, after we had supper—I awoke next morning about five; I fix the time because I heard a clock strike after I saw him go out—I heard the door open and saw his back going out—he has to pass through my bedroom to go out—it was not the shutting of the street door which called my attention to his back as he was leaving the premises.
Re-examined. Our rooms are on the same floor; the street-door faces me as I lie in bed—we live in a flat in the buildings—we had supper together the night before—we all went to bed.
ELIZABETH BARNETT . I am Lyons's sister; I live in the same house, 24, Wentworth Street, the business is there too—my father keeps me—on Friday, 17th May, Lyons asked me for 1l.; I gave it to him, and he bought half a case of eggs off a tall chap who came to the door and asked if he would buy them—I stood in the shop and did not hear what was said—that was between 11 and 12 in the morning—that is the man (Smith), and the little one (Taylor) sat in the cart; it was just before the Derby; I said "you have got a nice little horse and cart," and he said he should drive down to the Derby; and I said "You might take me down"—I chaffed him about going, and he said "I would not take you, I would take your governor."
Cross-examined. It was the week before the Derby I think; I said "You might take me down in that"—I remember it all by this conversation about the Derby—my father keeps, me and my two children, my husband is abroad, and I am housekeeper to my father—I am no relation to the other Barnett, my maiden name was Lyons—I had dealt with Shuttleworth a long time—I have known him about four years—sometimes we would go and see Shuttleworth, and sometimes he would come to us about eggs—I do not remember Shuttleworth being there that week, about the 17th or 18th.
Re-examined. I don't pin myself to a day; about the Derby Day—I have been at home 11 years—Lyons was at home at work every day up to 14th August.
RHODES. I am a hawker, of 70, Backchurch-Lane near Wentworth Street—I have a stall there 20 or 30 yards from Lyons' shop—I have known Lyons a number of years—his father is a pastry cook there—I know him as a respectable young man, working for his father—Friday, 18th May, was one of our Jewish holiday times, and being before the Bank Holiday there was a special market, and in order to secure a stall I was out a little after 5 o'clock—I saw Lyons at his door—I saluted him.
Cross-examined. He was standing at his door, which was open, a little after five on the morning of the 18th—he was fully dressed.
Cross-examined. I am not Lyons' sister—Lyons married my husband's sister—my husband told me where he slept.
THOMAS JAMES . I am a wholesale grocer, of 21, Whitechapel High Street—I have known Lyons from a boy, I give him the highest character—I deal in eggs—my manager bought sound eggs to go into retail establishments at 4s. 6d. a 100 in May—4s. 6d. would be a reasonable price for sound eggs.
Lyons received a good character.
GUILTY on the Second Count. The Jury recommended Lyons to mercy. and Mr. Davies recommended Shuttleworth to mercy.—SHUTTLEWORTH*— Eight Months' Hard Labour. LYONS— Four Months' Hard Labour. (Several witnesses deposed to Shuttleworth's good character since his conviction.)
NEW COURT.—Friday, September 21 st, 1888. Before Mr. Recorder.
842. HENRY WALTER BARRY* (21) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas James Barry, and stealing a watch and other articles, his property; also to stealing two pairs of boots, the goods of Joseph Summers, having been before convicted.— Eighteen Month's Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
843. EDWARD STUART** (46) to unlawfully obtaining a suit of clothes and other articles by false pretences, after a conviction at Clerkenwell in the name of David Murray.— Ten Years'Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
844. HENRY SIMPSON** (19) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Frances Gates, with intent to steal; also to being found by night with housebreaking implements in his possession, having been convicted at this Court in September, 1885.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
845. GEORGE THOMAS* (19) to a robbery with violence on Charles Beilby Williamson, and stealing a watch and chain, his property.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MESSRS. MEAD and PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MESSRS. BURNIE and LAWLESS appeared for Leese; MR. MOYSES for Fearns; and MR. BEARD for Hobenstock. GEORGE STEWART. I live at 21, Orwell Place, Edinburgh—I was confidential clerk to Mr. John Barry Russell, at 15, Hope Street, Edinburgh, a wine merchant—in (September, 1887, Mr. Russell advertised for a London agent, and eventually engaged Fearns on commission—Fearns procured the orders produced from Wells and Co., amounting to 5l. 14s., 11l. 8s.; and from Goodwin and Co., 4l. 8s., 4 guineas, 2 guineas, and 4 guineas; and from Lewis and Co., 5l. 14s., and other orders, amounting altogether to 149l.—of that amount only 10 or 12 guineas were paid—we supplied the goods in the ordinary way of trade.
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. Mr. Russell engaged Fearns on 27th December, 1887—Mr. Russell was sole proprietor; he is in Chicago—Fearns had no business to collect moneys for our firm—a good deal of correspondence passed between Mr. Russell and Fearns—Mr. Russell managed; he wrote letters or dictated them to me—we had one clerk—the affair was pretty large at times; it has gone wrong, I believe—all we asked Fearns was if he was in the neighbourhood of parties ordering stuff, to look them up, and send the remittances to us—the prosecutor brought the letters; I have a few here to refresh my memory—I do not remember a letter from Fearns stating that he would do his best to collect accounts, and get money in; I cannot swear there was not—his commission was 10 per cent, on accounts being paid—Mr. Russell failed in April; he commenced business in 1858—if Fearns wanted samples he wrote, and we sent them free of cost—we inquired as to the stability of the customers he introduced—I said at the Police-court there was an account from Mr. Steel still unpaid of 3l. 16s.—I cannot see why Mr. Steel's cheque should be returned through the dead-letter office in July—we supplied one order to a Mr. Meiter—he paid us.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. We give 30 days' credit.
Cross-examined by Elsam. We had the two orders from Wells and
Co. produced; they were sent direct through Fearns and Co.—they were written by them as orders from Wells and Co.
JAMES TAYLOR . I am a picture-frame maker, of 40, Goswell Road—on 20th November I received this order from Wells and Co. for goods value 18l.—we sent them to Leadenhall House—we received this letter. (Promising payment when due according to usual terms for credit.) Our I terms are net cash on delivery—we proceeded in the County Court, and obtained judgment—no one appeared for the defendants—I saw their clerk Elsam outside the Court; he took no part in the proceedings—I told him the case was settled; it was no good humbugging about the matter any longer—I walked with him and advised him to pay some of the money that day—he said he would do his best, and in the afternoon he brought this bill. (Dated February 15th, for 19l., at two months, accepted by "Wells and Co. "payable at Leadenhall House, and endorsed "Henry Goodwin.") The reference given was to a house in Leadenhall Street, nearly opposite Leadenhall House—about 18th April I went to Wells and Co., and found them shut up—I went to Goodwin and Co., at Seething Lane; that place was shut up—I had seen Elsam at Leadenhall Street before the County Court proceedings; he was in charge—I conversed with him with regard to the goods—I did not go to Fearns and Co. 's office for the reference.
Cross-examined by Elsam. The order came through my traveller Fitzgerald—I can bring him here—he said Mr. Wells gave the order—I understood you to be a clerk, nothing else—at the County Court you told me the solicitor ought to be there to represent Mr. Wells—I told you to ask Mr. Wells to pay me 10l. on account—you brought the bill between 2 and 3 p. m.
JONATHAN MARSHALL BOOTH . I carry on business as Booth and Williams, manufacturers' agents, 18, Charterhouse Buildings—in December last we received this letter from Hunter and Son, of Sheffield, in consequence of which I went to 39, Seething Lane, and saw a Mr. Goodwin, that is Leese—I showed him Hunter's letter. (Dated December 15th, 1887, asking for sample assortment of table knives.) I asked him what kind of samples he wanted to see—he said "General goods, cutlery"—I arranged to show him samples the next day—I took them, and he said his customer, who was in town, would call in the afternoon, and would I leave them to show him—I left them on the understanding that they would be returned the next day—I went the next day, saw Goodwin, and asked for the samples—he gave me some, and said "The others I have not finished with"—I have never been able to get them—their value is 13l. 11s. 5 1/2 d—I sent the order produced from Hunter and Son for 20l. worth of goods to my principals—it was not executed—we received an order from Goodwin and Co. for 3l. 10s. worth of clocks, which we executed—we have not been paid; also another order for 31l. worth of jet and imitation jewellery for Langdale and Co., which I sent on to them as my principals—it was executed—I saw the box in which the goods were at Goodwin and Co. 's offices, with the label Langdale and Co. on, a day or two afterwards—I applied for payment of the 31l. many times—I have never received it—on 9th January, 1888, this card was given to me, "James Wells and Co., merchants and shippers, Leadenhall Street, London, E. C."—I went there on 10th January—I saw Mr. Wells—I took some samples of jet and clocks—I also saw Elsam—he appeared
to be a clerk—I showed the samples to Wells, and he gave me an order for jets amounting to 32l. 2s. 10d.—I also left some samples for clocks, value 13l.—Wells said he would go through and examine them, as he was a practical man, and give me an order next day—I called, but did not get the clocks or money—I asked for a reference—he gave me Fearns and Co., of 27, Leadenhall Street, and the name of a firm in the Commercial Road—I went to both references—I told Fearns Wells and Co. had given his name as a reference, and asked if he knew anything about them—he said "Yes," he had had business transactions with them, which had been satisfactory—I said 'Do you think it is safe to trust them for 100l.?"—Fearns said "Yes, I think so"—on the faith of those references I supplied the goods to Wells and Co.—I have applied, and not been paid—Wells once made an excuse that the samples had been sent to a customer at Brighton, and he would telegraph for them that day; I called again the next day, but they had not come—Elsam and Fearns said that the samples were at Brighton, and Wells had written several times and telegraphed for them, but they never turned up—I went to Wells and Co. 's premises the end of March, and found them.
Cross-examined by Elsam. I got two orders for Langdale and Co.; one was executed-Wells gave me the orders-you told me a relative of Wells had died, and he had come in for some money-you conducted yourself only as clerk; you assumed no authority.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. On the first occasion I left samples with Leese he referred me to Marius Ransom and Co., of Telegraph Street—I went there—after hearing what they said I supplied the goods on account of Langdale—some of the samples of cutlery were on cards and some in the rough or loose—the value of the samples was 13l. 11s. 5 1/2 d., not recovered—I had a list of them:
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. I saw Fearns as references for Wells and Co. only—I do not remember his asking if I had another reference, nor his saying that he believed them to be respectable, but knew nothing of their financial position—he led me to understand he had drawn bills upon them and had been paid—Fearns knew me as Booth—I was in partnership with Williams 18 months—I never told Fearns his reference was cautious; I met him several times in the City—I do not remember telling Fearns I thought Wells Would pay me; I will not swear I did.
Re-examined. I made no inquiries as to the position of Marius Ransom and Co.; they appeared to be a reputable firm; they were agents.
GEORGE CURTIS . I am assistant to Emil Loivl, trading as Marcovitz and Co., cigarette manufacturers, of Eyre Street, Regent Street—in February last our firm advertised for a traveller, and in reply received this letter. (27, Red Lion Square, February 2nd, 1888, stating that J. S. Lewis and Co. 's traveller, to be addressed "Cigarette, Box 389, Daily Telegraph Office," would take a few samples for the road. Signed, " FRANOOIS, THILL. ") I wrote to the references, Lewis and Co. and Morris and Co.; they were satisfactory—I knew nothing of those firms-the first order Thill gave was this for Goodwin and Co., of 39, Seething Lane—Thill wrote in my presence on the back in pencil "Corn Exchange, Stock Exchange, Baltic, Threadneedle Street." (This was an order for cigarettes, dated February 14th 1888.) Thill said Goodwin and Co. were caterers to the Baltic,
Stock Exchange and the Corn Exchange—the amount, 23l. 15s., was not paid—when the account became due Leese, representing himself to be Goodwin and Co., brought a further order for cigarettes, which we declined to accept—we asked for references; he gave Fearns and Co., of Leadenhall Street, and Lewis and Co., of 27, Red Lion Square—I wrote to Fearns and Co., and received this letter. (Signed "Fearns and Co.," and stating they had done business with Goodwin and Co., and found prompt settlements.) Goodwin had said the amount to which Fearns would say he was solvent was 5,000l.—Thill gave two other orders, one for 20l., the other over that; we supplied the goods—we have never been paid.
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. Before I asked Fearns for reference we had received one order from Goodwin and Co., and supplied goods on our traveller's reference; that is usual—our traveller misled us—the reference did not alter our opinion—after the receipt of the reference we never supplied goods to Goodwin and Co.
Re-examined. We applied for reference because we found out that Thill and most of his connections were no good.
AUGUST KNIG . I am a sealskin goods manufacturer of 5, Colebrook Row, Islington—on 5th March Leese called on me as Henry Goodwin, with a man whose name he said was Thill—he said he was a shipper in Seething Lane as Henry Goodwin and Co.—he gave me a card similar to this: "Henry Goodwin and Co., Corn Exchange Avenue, 39, Seething Lane, E. C. Presented by" (blank)—Thill said "I want to see some samples of bags; I have got an order for three dozen"—he said the sealskin bags were wanted for shipping—I showed Thill some samples—Leese took a copy of the numbers and prices, and said we were to send them in next day—we received the order in this letter (Signed "Goodwin and Co.," enclosing an order, and dated 6th March)—the amount was 30l.—after receiving the order I went to 39, Seething Lane, and said to Leese "Will you oblige me with a reference?"—he gave me this card: "Fearns and Co., Sole Agents for James B. Russell's Edinburgh Celebrated Scotch Whiskies, 27, Leadenhall Street, E. C."—he also showed me this invoice: "Fearns and Co., Merchants, Manufacturers, and Agents, 27, Leadenhall Street, E. C," and on the back a number of goods—Leese said he had done business with Fearns before—as I was on the stairs leaving, Goodwin said "Why here is the gentleman; here is Mr. Fearns"—I then asked Fearns for a reference—he said "I have done business with Goodwin and Co. before, and they have always paid"—being satisfied I prepared to execute the order—Thill called shortly afterwards and said he was going to Manchester, and wanted some samples—I showed him some, and he took away three, value 2l. 15s.—then he wanted some samples sent to Seething Lane to be charged to Goodwin and Co.—he said "If I bring you an order from a big house like Whiteley's in London, would you give me a commission?" and I said yes, I should only be too pleased to execute it—two or three days after he called again, and said "I have got an order from Lewis and Co., of Manchester"—I supplied the sealskin goods to Goodwin and Co. on the faith of the reference of Fearns and Co.—I got this letter (Dated March 15th, 1888, from Goodwin and Co., to deliver goods at Dowgate Dock)—I had conversed with Thill, who is not here, about packing the goods for shipment—I received this letter (From Goodwin and Co., stating:" Referring to your conversation with our Mr. Thill yesterday, we always
have small cases delivered to Dowgate Dock, as per our instructions in ours dated 15th inst. If you cannot pack in oilcloth you must pack in zinc or tin. We only mentioned oilcloth as that is always cheaper. ") I sent the goods to Dowgate Docks—I believed they were for shipment—I produce the dock receipt, dated March 28th, 1888—I have never received my money—I have applied for it—Thill produced this card: "Lewis and Co., Wholesale Warehousemen, 45, Market Street, and 29, New Cannon Street, Manchester," and gave me an order for three dozen bags—he said Lewis and Co. were a firm like Whiteley's in London—he asked me if I knew them, and I said "Yes"—I knew a firm at Manchester and Liverpool similar to Whiteley's—he said he got the order through a buyer named Reece—on 18th April I received this letter (From Lewis and Co., 48, Market Street, &c., asking when order would be executed)—the goods on the back amount to 7l. 8s.—I sent them to Manchester the same day—the statement has been returned through the Dead Letter Office, Manchester, marked "Gone; no address"—I have received no payment for the goods—the goods and invoice did not return—I tried to see Leese or Goodwin, but found the place shut up.
Cross-examined by Fearns. I do not recollect seeing Thill till he was introduced by Leese—I had no reference with Thill.
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. Fearns said he had been doing business with Goodwin and Co., and found them fairly well—Fearns did not say "I suppose you have other references"—I walked with Fearns along Leadenhall Street—he asked me to have a drink, and we all three bad a glass together—Fearns did not say he knew nothing of Goodwin and Co. 's financial position—he said he had done business with them for about 18 months, and found them fairly good.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. Thill brought the card the end of March or beginning of April—I sent the bags on 21st April—the firm I knew similar to Whiteley's was Lewis and Co.—I did not know it was Lewis's with an apostrophe, and not Lewis and Co.
FREDERICK COUNTER . I am a carman to Mr. Myers, of Pentonville Road—on 28th March I received goods from Mr. Kœnig's, of 5, Colbrook Row, with these instructions to the superintendent of Dowgate Docks to receive them—I delivered them, and a person at the docks signed this order—I left the package there—the receipt is on the back.
JOHN SEALEY . I am carman to Charles Pollock, of Dowgate Dock—on March 29th I received a case of goods from Dowgate Dock—I delivered them at 39, Seething Lane, in accordance with the instructions produced: "With reference to one case received from Mr. Kœnig please send same to our office, 39, Seething Lane, E. C., Henry Goodwin and Co., and collect on Thursday"—we had instructions to call again after the case was repacked—the case was not given us.
SIMON FERDINAND FELDMAN . I am one of the firm of Feldman and Co., auctioneers, 5, Camomile Street, City—I had transactions with Leese under the name of Norris—on 29th March I advanced upon three dozen sealskin bags 15l. 10s.—on 17th April he gave me an order to deliver them to Josephs and Co., of 11, Silk Street, City, on payment by Josephs of amount due—the goods were sent—they are merchants—two months later Josephs and Co. returned them, and I sold them for Josephs and Co.
Company, at Manchester—on 23rd April I received a parcel for "Lewis's, 45, Market Street, Manchester"—this is the delivery sheet; I delivered it.
LEWIS WELTERS . I am a furrier, of 94, High Street, Islington—on 8th April a man who said his name was Thill called on me—he said he was a buyer from Lewis's, in Manchester—he gave me this card—I have had transactions with Lewis's. ("Lewis and Co., Wholesale Warehousemen" and "45, Market-Street, "pencilled through, and "29, New Cannon Street," written underneath in pencil.) Thill bought three sable tail capes at 10 guineas, one dyed skunk cape, 15s., and one Otter Modina, 1l.—I was to send them to 29, New Cannon Street, Manchester, because they were building in Market Street—he told me several things which made me believe he was a buyer at Lewis's—he mentioned a buyer's name I knew, a Mr. Reece; also the head of a firm, Mr. Kœnig—he was not known personally to me, but I have several letters from him—on the purchase of these goods Thill signed the memorandum produced—I gave Thill a commission from Mr. Reece of 21/2 per cent., 16s.—I sent the invoice produced by post to Lewis and Co.—I received no acknowledgment—I sent a statement of account a month after, and afterwards wrote to Lewis's—I have tried, but have never been paid—I had an answer from Lewis's stating I had sent my goods to a swindling company.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. I was under the impression that Lewis and Co. were Lewis's—I persuaded myself so—I have been in business 16 years.
HENRY OLIVER STONE . I am bookkeeper to Messrs. Ensor, "Weber, and Co., furriers, 15, St. Paul's Churchyard—on 19th April I received by post an order from Lewis and Co., 45, Market Street, Manchester, with a printed heading—I wrote to that firm enclosing the order, and received from them this post-card of 20th April, 1888: "Please state when and by whom sealskin packets were ordered, as per invoice to hand, as we know nothing whatever of the transaction"—I had already sent two sealskin jackets, value 36l. 10s., addressed to Lewis and Co., 45, Market Street, Manchester—I directed the invoice to Lewis and Co., Manchester, but did not put the full address—on receipt of the post-card and a letter from Market Street, I sent a second invoice to 45, Market Street. (This invoice was found on Hobenstock, the letter was dated 29th April, from Lewis and Co., asking for invoice by return of post.) I communicated with the Manchester police, who showed me a similar seal skin jacket.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. The post-card is stamped "Lewis's, Market-Street, Manchester"—the invoice produced is dated 19th April.
JOHN WILLS . I keep the Imperial Hotel, 38, Piccadilly, Manchester—on 12th April a Mr. F. Roberts came there, and remained till 25th April—I did not know him by any other name—he returned and stayed a week longer—Hobenstock visited him—Roberts offered to sell me a sealskin jacket for 14l.—I advanced him 10s. upon it; it was afterwards redeemed—Hobenstock overheard the transaction with Roberts.
ARTHUR SWAIN . I am assistant to Mr. Pelton, of 32, Dean's Gate, Manchester—on 21st April a person giving the name of Japhet Martin, of 75, Cross Cliff Street, Moss Side, near Manchester, called and pledged a lady's sealskin jacket for 4l.—on 2nd of May a letter was received from A. P. Josephs, 11, Silk Street, London, with a post-office order for
4l. 1s. 8d., the 1s. 8d. being for interest, and the duplicate—in consequence of what was in that letter I forwarded the jacket to 11, Silk Street, on 7th May—I could not identify Martin—the jacket was similar to the one produced.
FRANK OUSEY . I am assistant to Mr. Greenwood, pawnbroker, of 86, London Road, Manchester—on 23rd April, Alfred Roberts, of the Imperial Hotel, Piccadilly, Manchester, pledged with me a lady's sealskin jacket for 5l., and 2l. 10s. more was advanced at his request next day—on 3rd May I received a letter from Josephs and Company, of 11, Silk Street, London, enclosing the duplicate I had given to Roberts, and a post-office order for the amount I had advanced, and interest, in consequence of which I forwarded the jacket to 11, Silk Street—the jacket was similar to these produced.
ERNEST SHARP . I am manager to George Smith and Sons, furriers, 10, Watling Street, City—on 19th April I received a letter from Lewis and Company, of 45, Market Street, and 29, New Cannon Street, Manchester, asking for two soalskin jackets to be sent on approbation—I know the firm of Lewis's, Manchester—I believed it to be the same firm, and on 19th April I sent three, value 57l., and a letter and invoice—we have not been paid nor the goods returned—we have not applied for payment—one of these produced is ours; our mark is upon it.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. I could not do the exact order, so sent the nearest.
WILLIAM ALLEN . I am the housekeeper of the Corn Exchange Avenue, 39, Seething Lane—in November last I saw Leese as Henry Goodwin—he saw some offices on the third floor—I subsequently received this letter (agreeing to take the offices)—the reference was Wells and Co., of whom our agents inquired—this is the reply: "November 11, 1888. We have known the gentleman you inquire about for a considerable time, and we have no doubt of his respectability, and believe he will prove desirable and able to pay his way. Yours respectfully, James Wells and Co."—this agreement was signed by Goodwin, or Leese, on 11th November—the rent was 40l.—he remained in possession till March—no rent was paid—parcels and packages came for him.
JOSEPH STRIKE . I am secretary of the City Offices, Palmerston Buildings, Old Broad Street, City—in November I let 27, Leadenhall Street, to Fearns at 35l. a year—this is the agreement of 5th November—he remained about nine months—the rent was paid to Midsummer last—a man was put in possession to protect my company because Fearns was arrested—that was on the day of the arrest.
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. Many tenants are a quarter in arrear.
HENRY WARD ARCHER . I am a clerk to Messrs. Jones, Laing, and Co., of Leadenhall House Estate Offices, at 101, Leadenhall Street—I let to James Wells at Leadenhall House in August two rooms as offices on the fourth floor—"James Wells and Co." was put up—I saw Elsam there—Wells never paid any rent; he remained till January; he left without notice—his office was shut up—I saw Wells there once; I only called about twice.
Cross-examined by Elsam. I did not see Wells sign the agreement.
FREDERICK CORBETT. I am cashier to Anthony Hordern and Sons, manufacturers, 24, Jewin Crescent—we have an office at 122, Newgate Street—I placed that office in the hands of Messrs. Willett and Charlton to let—in consequence of a communication from them I went to Mr. Henry Goodwin at 39, Seething Lane—I saw a clerk—I let the office to Mr. James Wells in consequence of what I heard from Mr. Borman, of Moor Lane—I saw the agreement signed; I signed as a witness—this is signed by Wells, the counterpart by John Vine and Edwin Gould—the rent was 50l. per annum; possession was given in March—I sent in an account for the year's rent; I received this reply. (Dated July 2nd, and promising payment about the middle of that month.) No rent was paid—we instructed Willett to take possession, because we found the offices closed.
Cross-examined by Elsam. I was not present when the agreement was signed; I never saw Wells; Willett and Co. got it signed.
Re-examined. I never saw either of the prisoners in the transaction.
ROSE COGLAN . I am married, and live at 58, Saltown Road, Brixton—in May, 1887, I let to a Mrs. Elsam two rooms on the first floor at 6s. a week, unfurnished—they moved in furniture—Mr. Elsam was there when arrested—he owes 3l. 12s. for rent—I showed the police their rooms.
Cross-examined by Elsam. Your furniture was distrained upon by the landlady—I never knew you transact business or assume any other name—I have not seen any letters in the name of Carter.
JOSEPH MITTEN BROWN . I am cashier to Perry and Smith, of 45, Market Street, Manchester, wholesale stationers—on 31st March Hobenstock called and took a furnished office on our first floor at 24l. a year there is a passage from Market Street to New Cannon Street—it is one office—he put up the name Lewis and Co. in half-a-dozen places—there is a large firm of Lewis's higher up the street, also called Lewis and Co.—he told me he was going to London for a few days, and while he was away the signs were painted up—when he came back a man named Roberts was about the place—by our agreement we were to be paid in advance if we required it—we became suspicious, and demanded the rent—I wrote a notice, addressed to Hobenstock, and took it to the office—Roberts took it from me, and told me Hobenstock was out, but he would receive it later on—we received this letter from 138, Minories, London, E. C., April 5th, 1888, from Hobenstock:—"Messrs. Perry and Smith. Gentlemen,—As I shall not be over before Monday kindly leave notice on door, saying you will take in all cases, and I will reimburse any outlay you may make for carriages, as I must have the goods sent when I come down, and I enclose card of name of firm the cases will be labelled"—the agreement was signed by Hobenstock in my presence—one parcel came; I cannot say how it was addressed, but a man came to borrow the money for the carriage.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. His references were a Mr. Cotton and one in High Street, well-known firms; the references were right; I knew the firms by repute.
GEORGE ROGERS . I am storekeeper at the Stock Exchange—there is no person appointed to supply cigarettes to members—we keep at the stores stationery only—it is not true that Goodwin and Co. supplied the caterer to the Stock Exchange with cigarettes.
it is not true to say that Goodwin and Co. supply the caterer to the Corn Exchange with cigarettes—I do not know Leese, Fearns, nor Thill.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. I identify it by some initials on it; I have no doubt this is one of the jackets; it is a special length and size, which we do not send out once in a year, or have not sent out for the last eight months.
JOHN SEARLE . I am head waiter at the Corn Exchange, Seething Lane—I have been there fourteen years—it is not true that Goodwin and Company ever supplied us with cigarettes—I do not know the priners nor Thill.
WALTER DINNI (Detective Officer), I apprehended Leese on July 6th at Dalston—I had searched his lodgings at 39, Albert Road, Dalston—he gave me that address—it was in consequence of what I found there that I took him—I said "I am a police officer, I hold a warrant for your apprehension"—I addressed him as Henry Goodwin—I knew him before as Edward Martin—the warrant charged him with conspiring with others to obtain goods by false pretences—I read it to him—Thill's name is mentioned on it—he made no answer—I took him to the station—he gave his address, Henry Leese, 39, Albert Road, Dalston—I went there and examined the rooms on the top floor—I found a number of cards and billheads, one of "Henry Goodwin and Company, Corn Exchange Avenue, 39, Seething Lane, B. C., presented by" (blank), and written in ink on the back "Elsam, 58, Saltown Road, Brixton; Wells and Company, 122, Newgate Street," another card "Edward Martin, 59 and 60, New Stone Buildings, Chancery Lane, and 9 and 10, Southampton Buildings, Holborn, W. C.," the next "C. W. Worrall and Company, merchants, 34, Great St. Helens, London, E. C.," a memorandum form, "Norris and Company, furriers, mantle manufacturers, 2, Manchester Avenue, Aldersgate Street"—I also found four bottles of port wine and some whiskey bottles, with the labels "Russell and Son, Edinburgh," then I took his keys and went to 59 and 60, New Stone Buildings—there I found empty wooden cases, cards, and paper and envelopes, bearing the name of Edward Martin—I went to Corn Exchange Avenue, "Henry Goodwin and Company," 39, Seething Lane—no one was in charge—I found there empty wine cases and this card, "Lewis and Company, Wholesale Warehousemen, 45. Market Street, and 29, New Cannon Street, Manchester"—I took Fearns on July 31st on a warrant in Leadenhall Street, outside his office—it charged him with conspiring with Henry Leese—he said "Yes, I have given him references, but I have derived no benefit from their transactions"—I found on him this cheque (Dated March 22nd, upon G. Parker and Company, 35, Mark Lane, in favour of H. Leese or order for 21l. 15s. signed "Henry Goodwin and Company" and endorsed "Henry Leese and Frederick H Fearns and Company"), also this dummy cheque (Dated December 24th, on the Bank of Providence, &c.)—I searched the first floor of 58, Saltown Road, after Elsam was in custody on August 1st—I found the agreement of 120, Newgate Street, produced (between Hordern and Sons and James Wells, 58, Saltown Road), also this card with the name "Carter," of 58, Saltown Road, representing Fearns' firm—I found the rubber stamp produced at Saltown Road, "King and Wells, Mercharts, &c.,
120, Newgate-Street"—at 120, Newgate Street, I found empty cases and a large quantity of burnt paper—"Wells and Co." was painted up on the door and in the passage—on July 10th Mr. Marshall Booth and Fearns called at Scotland Yard—Fearns said he had noticed that a man named Goodwin was in custody, and he wished to give some further information—he said "Goodwin has given me a false cheque for goods I have supplied him; I sent the goods to Dowgate Dock; I have given Goodwin several references, I have known him over eighteen months"—I said "In what name?" he said "As Goodwin"—I told him if he was required as a witness I would let him know—I found on Fearns a returned cheque for 3l. 16s. in a letter addressed to him (Drawn by Z. Martin, enclosing letter to Russell and Son, on July 10th, marked "Gone, no address, apply elsewhere"); that memorandum is dated the day he called on me—I searched the premises in Market Street—I found three documents from "Ensor and Company"—I inquired about the firm of Marius and Company, for obtaining goods by fraud—they had left their office in Telegraph Street, City, and had not paid their rent—Lewis and Company, Red Lion Square, was similar to Lewis and Company, 45, Market Street.
Cross-examined by MR. MOYSES. I arrested Fearns on the information of Mr. Koenig, Mr. Wills, and Mr. Brown—the cheque for 2l. 16s. is dishonoured—Fearns told me he had a dishonoured cheque from Leese—access to Fearns' books was refused by the Secretary of the Buildings, Leadenhall House—the Secretary was subpœnaed by Mr. Wontner, the solicitor, and the books were brought to the Court, but not produced—they were not asked for, consequently I did not see them—Mr. Wontner might have had them produced by the witness who brought them.
CORNELIUS SEXTON (Detective Sergeant). I apprehended Elsam at 8.15 a.m. on 1st August at Saltown Road, Brixton—I read the warrant to him—it charged him with conspiring with Fearns, Leese, and his master Wells to obtain goods by false pretences—he replied "I never had any transaction, good, bad, or indifferent, with Leese further than giving references, and up to lately I was only clerk to Mr. Wells at 1l. per week"—at 3.40 on 31st August I apprehended Hobenstock at the Main Bridewell, Liverpool—I told him I was a Metropolitan police officer, and I should convey him to London upon a warrant, which I read to him, for conspiring with other persons to obtain goods by false pretences—he replied "I never saw those goods; I took the premises at Manchester in my own name, and Thill was only in my employ"—I then produced a pocket-book handed to me by the police; it contained two names, and I said "These two invoices found on you have the names of two prosecutors in this case"—he made no reply—I also found on him cards of "Lewis H. Malcolm," under which name he was known at Liverpool, as a musical and dramatic agent, author, and vocalist.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. The names in the warrant are Francois Thill and Lewis Hobenstock, trading as Lewis and Co., at Manchester—he said Thill was in his employ—the other prisoners had then been charged before the Magistrate—I had seen Goodwin's case reported, hut not Leese's—his brother said he had been to New York—I made no inquiries—he was arrested at the Main Bridewell, Liverpool, or what is termed the lock-up; he was in custody when I went there.
Cross-examined by Elsam. I swear you said "References. "
GEORGE STEWART (Re-examined by MR. MOYSES. I am the manager to Russell and Co.—I have said Fearns had no authority to collect accounts—the authority given in the letter produced in my writing was repudiated soon after by Mr. Russell himself—the other letter in Mr. Russell's writing of 14th April was after the firm was dissolved.
By MR. MEAD. On 14th April neither Mr. Russell nor I knew the character of the firms of "Wells and Co.," "Goodwin and Co.," and others.
Elsam produced a written statement, giving an account of hit transactions with the prisoners, and stating that the orders of the day were given to Fitzgerald, the traveller, who had not been called, and that he (Elsam) had nothing to do with giving orders to Gould. Fearns received a good character.
LEESE and HOBENSTOCK— GUILTY . — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
FEARNS and ELSAM— NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday and Saturday, September 21st and 22nd, 1888.
Before Mr. Justice Charles.
MESSRS. POLAND and CHARLES MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. TICKELL
Defended, at the request of the Court. The Jury being unable to agree were, after consulting for upwards of five hours, discharged without returning any verdict.
PATRICK KELLY was, on Saturday, 22nd, given in charge before another Jury for the said murder, when the following evidence was given:—
JOHN WHITAKER . I was a seaman on board the ship Erin, which sailed from London on 29th June for New York—William Tyson was the master and Mr. Easton chief officer—the prisoner was a seaman on board; he joined at Gravesend—after we had been out two days we were doing a piece of work, stowing a topsail—I wanted the work done my way and the prisoner wanted it done his way—the officer said it was to be done my way; that annoyed the prisoner, and he said to me" Mind, I will put something into you that will make you sleep for a long time; say no more about it"—that was all he said—I was in the starboard watch, which was composed of five persons, myself, Parry, Chapman, Harris, and the prisoner—nothing particular happened between the 1st and 8th—between 7 and 8 that evening we five men were on the watch; our duty would be finished at 8—between 7 and 8 an order was given to the watch to set a fore trysail—Chapman was annoyed at the work, and said "F—it"—he did not address that remark to any person; he said it more to the work to be done than anything else, annoyed at having to do it—the prisoner said "Did you address that remark to me?"—he said "No, I did not; can't a man speak?"—an altercation ensued between them for five or ten minutes perhaps—we finished the piece of work we were about; it was then 8, and we all five went below; then the argument started again, and lasted about 10 minutes—nothing very particular was said—the prisoner and Chapman were the only ones that used any words, the rest of us stood
by—the words used were such as "Don't you have any more of this"; "I have you in my mind"; "I will fix you"—Chapman said "Perhaps I will be able to fix you, if you was to try"—there were a lot of other words, amounting to nothing—the prisoner said "Mind, I will make this vessel a hot-bed for a lot of you"—after that we turned in—Chapman said "I might be as good a man as you, "something like that—at 12 o'clock we were on watch again till 4 o'clock—nothing particular took place during the watch; we all turned in again; we had to go to work again at 8 o'clock—we were called at 20 minutes past 7, but 8 was our time to go on deck; I went to sleep at 4—I did not know at the time that the prisoner went to his bunk, but he told me afterwards, at New York before the Consul, that he was up at 6; it was just merely a remark that he made; he said nothing more about it—about three or four minutes before 20 minutes to 7 I was aroused by hearing moans or groaning—I thought perhaps some man was in a nightmare, and I hastened to turn out to rouse him, and to my surprise I saw the prisoner standing over the bunk of Chapman; I also noticed that he had his left hand on Chapman's forehead or hair, and Chapman's face was covered with blood—the prisoner had his right hand at Chapman's left breast; he was still crying" Oh, oh!"—I did not thoroughly understand what the prisoner was doing at the moment; but while I saw this, Parry, who slept between me and Chapman, awoke; he turned his head to look in the direction of the prisoner, and saw what he was doing, and he uttered a terrified cry—the prisoner then drew his hand away from Chapman's breast, and I noticed that he had a knife in his hand, and the blood gushed from the wound a distance of four feet, to the paint work—he then made a sudden move towards the bunk where Parry was, seized him by the throat, and plunged the knife into his breast—I stepped back two paces—at that moment Harris awoke; he slept on the port side—he said "Whatever is the matter here?"—I said "There is stabbing going on here; can't you see?"—he said "Oh, dear! oh, dear!"—the prisoner was at that moment standing by the bunk of Parry—he picked up a shirt out of Parry's bunk, and coolly and deliberately wiped his knife on it—I can't say that it was Parry's shirt; he took it out of Parry's bunk; it might have been his own shirt—he held the knife up to the light, and I then recognised it as belonging to him—I had seen it three or four times a day (produced), that is the knife; there is a stamp of the Sailors' Home, Well Street, upon the blade; I also marked it privately at New York by direction of the officials there—after the prisoner had wiped the knife I stepped back two paces, and placed a table between me and him—he never spoke a word, but walked up the ladder, which was alongside of him, to the main deck with the knife in his hand—at that moment able seaman Hunt was coming down to call the watch, to give us time to wash and get breakfast—he stopped midway on the ladder—I said "You had better go back," and I sent him to the officer—the prisoner had gone from my sight then—the bunks are in two tiers, one above the other, on the starboard side—on an upper tier, right over Parry, the prisoner slept—I slept in the next bunk to the prisoner; my head came to his feet—Parry and Chapman slept in the same bunk on the lower tier, further forward, and Harris on the port side, opposite—I went over to Parry's bunk, and called his name; I got no answer; I put my hand on his head; I found a slight pulsation, then I heard a gurgling come
in his throat, and I knew that he was dead—I left him, and went to Chapman, and repeated the same there—he died in a few seconds; they both died in a few seconds—I prepared the bodies for burial; I saw the wounds; I saw a wound on Chapman's left breast, about an inch from the nipple, and the same on Parry, but one was inside and the other out, one was on the right side and the other over the left nipple—I also saw a cut on Chapman's lip, and his face was covered with blood—I gave an account to the captain of what had occurred, and I saw the prisoner in irons.
Cross-examined. It was two days after we went out that the prisoner said "I will put something into you that will make you sleep a long time"—he never did that—I made no complaint to the captain; I gave an account to the captain, when an entry in the log was made; I was examined as a witness before the Consul at New York—I don't believe I said a word then about the prisoner having threatened me two days after leaving England; it was at the Commission at New York, the examination before the Consul was only a repetition of the examination before the Commission—I said before the Commission that the prisoner was as friendly with me as he was with anybody on board, I consider that he was; he had no trouble with anybody that I am aware of, prior to the occasion on 8th July—he was a peculiar man; one of the most peculiar men on board; he was morose and unsociable, he very seldom spoke to anybody except in a very abrupt manner, and not more than answering questions; he did not complain in my hearing of not being able to sleep well—I think he was under the impression that everybody in the ship was against him—I said before the Consul-General he seemed to think every one was against him somehow or other, although no one scarcely spoke to him; there was no ground for such a supposition, it was totally without foundation; he performed his duty as well as anybody—neither I nor any of my companions annoyed him in any way, we treated him with consideration and kindness—he was a perfect stranger to me when he joined the ship, and, as far as I know, to everybody on board—the altercation on 8th July was between Chapman and him, Parry took no part in it—on 9th July, at the time I awoke and saw what was taking place, not a single word had occurred, I heard no provocation whatever—he appeared quite calm and collected—I was astonished at the calmness he exhibited—he did not appear to be in any passion—directly he had killed the two men he went to the shirt and coolly wiped the knife, and coolly and collectedly walked up the ladder—the knife is one they give out at the Sailors' Home for their work; it is not one that opens, it is a sheath knife commonly used by sailors, we all carry them.
By the COURT. At New York, when I got into a cab with the prisoner and the policeman, the policeman asked why he had done it—he said "I don't know, they had been getting foul of me somehow or other"—he also said "I have been twice before the Commissioners of Lunacy at San Francisco, two years ago for racket and cutting. "
JOHN HARRIS. I was an able seaman on board the Erin—on Monday, 9th July, between 4 and 8 a. m., I was in the forecastle, it was my watch below—I was awoke about 20 minutes to 7, and I saw the prisoner standing over Parry's bunk with his knife in his right hand, and something, I did not see what it was then, I afterwards found it was a shirt, and he
was wiping his knife on it, and he then put it down this way and covered it with his left hand—I saw Whitaker standing by the end of the mess table, close to the ladder, in his drawers—the prisoner was dressed the same as if he was going to his work—Chapman and Parry were lying in their bunks—Chapman's face was covered with blood, and his chest regularly saturated with it, I saw it by the side of him, dropping on his clothing—the prisoner never spoke a word—I saw him go up the ladder on deck, with the knife in his hand—I reported the matter to Mr. Easton, the chief officer on the bridge—whilst I was speaking to him the prisoner came up the after companion along the starboard side—I thought the prisoner was very strange sometimes, because I have spoken to him three or four times and he gave me a very abrupt answer, very different from what I would expect from any one.
Cross-examined. He was peculiar, and very peculiar too; he never associated with any one; we could not get him into conversation, only just as he felt like, and that was very seldom, according to how he felt at the time I suppose—I never annoyed him, I never heard any one annoy him; they always gave way to him if anything, because they thought he was passionate.
Re-examined. He did his work the same as any other man on board.
ROBERT DONALDSON DIXON EASTON . I was chief officer of the Erin, she was a British vessel sailing under the English flag—on Monday, 9th July, about twenty minutes past 7, I was on the bridge when Harris came and made a statement to me—immediately afterwards the prisoner came up the ladder and handed me this knife, saying "Two men have been stabbed forward, and there is the knife that did it"—I at once told the master, and went down into the forecastle and found that the two men had been stabbed; I saw a cut on Chapman's lip and his face was covered with blood—the prisoner seemed quite cool and collected when he gave me the knife—he was not in my watch, so I had not seen much of him—I had seen him about—I never noticed anything particular about him—he was afterwards put in irons and put into a secure place—he submitted quietly—on our arrival at New York an inquiry toot place before the British Consul, and the prisoner was brought over to this country—on our way home he was confined in a room that we had made ready for him—I saw nothing peculiar about him on the way home.
Cross-examined. He was so cool and collected when he came and gave me the knife that I did not believe anything had occurred—the first time I saw him was on 29th June, when he came on board at Gravesend—he gave no trouble on board before this occurrence.
WILLIAM TYSON . I am master of the Erin—on the morning of 9th July I heard what had occurred in the forecastle—I went down and saw that the two men were dead; afterwards, from what I heard, I went and spoke to the prisoner—I asked him what he had been doing—he said "I don't know"—I asked him what he had murdered these two unfortunate men for—he said "I don't know"—I said "You must have had some cause or other"—he said "Well, I had provocation"—I asked him" What provocation had you?"—he said "I won't tell you"—he further said "You can do what you like with me, or you can throw me overboard if you choose"—his manner and demeanour was just the same as that of any other man in his rational senses, quite cool and collected,
and quite unconcerned about what he had done—he was put into irons—he submitted very quietly without any trouble—I made an entry in the official log the same day—the prisoner said to me" Captain, I did not want to come in the ship at all, because there were too many men here for me"—this is the log (produced), the entry is in my own writing; I read it over to the prisoner about 3 that afternoon, when I had shifted him to another place for security. (The entry in the log was put in and read, it recorded substantially the events as stated in the evidence.) The prisoner listened to it as it was read over to him, and he replied "I decline making any statement at present, owing to the state of my mind past and present"—I had the bodies of the two men washed and prepared for burial, and they were buried at sea; I performed the service in the ordinary way—when we arrived at New York, the matter was reported to the English Consul-General there, and the prisoner was taken before him, and before Commissioners there—on the way home he was in custody—I did not see anything of him on the way home; the officers used to visit him occasionally and took his victuals—nothing of any note occurred, all was quiet; on the arrival at Gravesend the police took charge of him.
Cross-examined. When I asked him why he had done this, he was in his rational senses, the same as myself—I am certain that he used the word "provocation"—I omitted telling that to the Court at the time, but I have thought it over since—it does not appear in the log because of the excitement that occurred, and I had a great deal to contend with that day.
HARRY WHITE (Detective Sergeant). On 5th August, at 2 o'clock, I went on board the steamship Erin at Gravesend, and the captain handed the prisoner over to me—I told him I should take him into custody, for the wilful murder of John Chapman and John Parry on the high seas on 9th July—he replied "All right"—I took him on board the Racoon, and afterwards to Bow Street, where he was charged—the charge was there read over to him, and he said "All right. "
JOHN REGAN (Detective Sergeant). I was with White—the prisoner was given into my custody—on the way from Gravesend I was alone with him—White was on deck talking to Whitaker—the prisoner said "I am not sorry for what I have done, and if I had a chance I would serve the son of a bitch Whitaker the same; they was always at me"—I had said nothing whatever to him to induce him to make that statement; that was all he said—he was quite quiet.
MR. TICKELL called the following witnesses for the defence.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am surgeon at Holloway Prison, and have had experience of lunatics there—I have had the prisoner under my control—I found him suffering from delusions and hallucinations—he is under the delusion that stuff enters into his system, causing him burning and painful sensations, also causing things which he looks at to shimmer—he is also under the delusion that he is annoyed by people following him in order to hurt him, and he hears voices, and there are many other signs—he has a constant pain in the head, gripping pain in the forehead; he is sleepless, and takes but little notice of his surroundings—he is under the delusion that every man on the ship, including the passengers, wore against him, and that they used to cause him this annoyance; that he used to hear them talking about him, saying "Give it
the son of a bitch," and he states that he was sleepless the whole time he was on the ship—he has been restless while with us; he has had sleep, but he has not slept well—he has been in the infirmary from the 6th August to the 19th—these delusions and hallucinations are common symptoms of insanity, the belief that everybody is engaged in a conspiracy against you, and that you are being injured or annoyed by poison and the hearing of voices—he told me that six or seven years ago he had been before Lunacy Commissioners in San Francisco from an attack of delirium tremens, and as a result of that attack he laboured under the delusion of persecution, that he was followed by men who were employed by certain boarding-house masters to prevent his getting a lodging at any other boarding-house, and that they wished to hurt him, and so he applied to the police in San Francisco for protection, that they kept him one night in the police-station, and he was placed in a cell with six other men, and that during the night he was very much annoyed by these men, who blew stuff from their nostrils, which entered into him, and turned him quite black, and gave him horrible sensations of burning and pain; that on that occasion he was taken to what he described as a home for inebriates, where he was kept for 10 days that on two occasions he was taken before Commissioners of Lunacy, and at the expiration of that period he was discharged—I formed the opinion that he is insane—I have been in Court and heard the evidence—I think he did not know the nature and quality of the act he committed; I think he was not conscious that he was doing a wrong act.
Cross-examined. I have no doubt that he believed in the statements he made to me—he now knows the nature of these proceedings, that he is on his trial for murder; he is able to appreciate his position—when I first saw him in the prison he appeared to know that he was detained on a charge of the murder of two of his shipmates, Chapman and Parry—in my judgment his is a case of chronic lunacy; I think he has been a lunatic ever since the matters occurred at San Francisco—notwithstanding that, I should think he was able to do the ordinary work of a seaman.—he understands what is said to him, and can make himself understood in reply—I believe he can read and amuse himself by reading—with the exception of these delusions he has conducted himself in a rational way in the gaol; he has always obeyed orders, and conformed to the prison rules—after the 10 days' detention at San Francisco he was released, and resumed his ordinary avocations as a seaman, and has maintained himself ever since—I think his is a case of alcoholic insanity; I mean by that that he has been drinking to such excess for years as to produce absolute disease—I think absence of an adequate motive is one great reason for his not knowing the nature and quality of the act that he did—I have known many prisoners commit crimes without any adequate motive—I think that the coolness and deliberation with which, after stabbing the men, he went up to the officer in charge rather shows that he did not appreciate the wrongfulness of his act—at that precise time he might have known that he had committed the act, but I do not think he knew he was doing wrong at the instant when he killed these men; that is my view—while he was actually committing the act he told me that he found himself doing it—he then appeared to have a memory that he had killed them—he said that all on board were against him—he
described the pain in his head as a gripping pain, as the opening and shutting of a hand.
By the COURT. The use of the word provocation does not indicate anything to me as to his knowledge of what he was about; I should gather that it was his delusion that made him use that expression, the delusion of the persecution—an insane person might remember all the events—he still persists in these delusions—I think the disease is chronic.
DR. HENRY CHARLTON BASTIAN . I am professor of medicine at University College, physician to University College Hospital, and the Hospital for Paralysed and Epileptic Patients, M. D. and Fellow of the Royal Society—I have for many years paid special attention to the subject of lunacy—I have frequently acted in these kind of matters at the request of the Solicitor to the Treasury—I examined the prisoner on the 19th and 20th of this month—I find him to be at the present time insane, and I think he has been insane for the last six or seven years—he is suffering from many delusions and hallucinations—he detailed to me many of the delusions which have been already detailed by Mr. Gilbert; I ascertained also that these delusions had existed in full force up to the time when he joined the Erin, and subsequently—he also complained of pains in his head, and of sleeplessness, stating that he had not slept at all for the first 10 days he was on board the ship—I think his insanity was a sequence and result from the delirium tremens from which he suffered in San Francisco in 1881 or 1882—the delusion, from which he was suffering whilst on board the Erin were these he told me that on the first night of being on board, being unable to sleep, whenever he closed his eyes he saw lizards and serpents and reptiles crawling towards his bunk and that he heard the fireman on deck referring to these reptiles coming towards him—he believed also that he was still persecuted by stuff, as be termed it, being injected into his system; that the crew generally were against him; that he heard voices talking about; him in all parts of the ship—he complained also that the men knew his thoughts, and could influence his thinking; in fact he was evidently the subject of many delusions, and frequently suffering from those hallucinations—in regard to the act itself he could give no explanation—he told me that he did not know why he had done it, and immediately added, of his own accord, "especially Parry he was the man I liked best on board the ship; he was a pleasant, jovial sort of fellow"—I should say that in addition to the drink, he has had several severe blows on his; head, which may have contributed also to bring him into this condition; he had a severe blow over the top of the head from a policeman's sword in 1875, leaving a deep scar there—there is also a deep scar over the left eyebrow, and he has a scar at the back of the head, a more superficial scar; that last scar was caused by a fall in New York in 1887, after which he was insensible for 10 hours and a-half, and was taken to a hospital, and that was followed by erysipelas of the head, from which he remaind in the hospital one month—I think those injuries to the head have helped to contribute to produce the condition in which he now is, a though probably the main factor has been drink—he said he had been taken before the Lunacy Commissioners on two occasions in San Francisco, that was about the time he had delirium tremens—I came to the conclusion that he was insane, that he has been suffering from alcoholic insanity, and
that he had been suffering since 1881 or 1882, worse at times—he spoke of this persecution in almost all the vessels he had been in with the exception of one, in one he was very comfortable, and not persecuted at all; I imagine he had been worse just before joining the Erin—he had been drinking hard; of course there would be an aggravation of his symptoms after that; he confesses to having been drinking hard before he joined the vessel—the fact that he had hallucinations when he joined would point to the fact that he was then rather worse than usual—I have been in Court and heard the evidence as to the acts committed. Q, In your opinion, at the time he committed those acts, was he aware of the nature and quality of the acts he was committing? (This question was put to Mr. Gilbert in the preceding trial, and after some discussion was admitted on the ground that the facts being undisputed it came within the decision of the Judges in McNaughten's case; it was therefore permitted in accordance with that decision to be now put to Dr. Bastian.) A. I think not, certainly not the quality of the acts he was committing, he was not capable of comprehending their moral quality; if I may be allowed I would say that the fact of his saying he had provocation would only show to me that he acted as a consequence of his delusion, the fact that he was in no passion proves that there was no provocation in the ordinary sense of the word, but that he acted from provocation as the direct outcome of his delusions I think his perfect coolness and calmness after the committal of these acts is strong evidence that at the time he was insane to an extreme degree; that is the sort of thing that we very frequently meet with in association with these insane acts; insane persons very frequently confess the crime immediately, and give themselves up. (By the COURT. So do plenty of sane persons.) The absence of motive is a very strong indication of insanity; in this case there had been no quarrel with Parry.
Cross-examined. I think the prisoner is very much better now than he was at the time these acts were committed—I think that he now understands the nature of these proceedings, and that he knows he is being tried for his life for the murder of these men—he recollects that he stabbed them, although he can assign no reason for it—my opinion is that he killed them acting under many delusions; I do not think that one of those delusions was that he had received provocation, I do not think that was his meaning when he used that expression, what he meant was that all this blowing of stuff and those delusions constituted the provocation—there is nothing in such delusions that would prevent his getting his living as a seaman, in the same way as a multitude of other lunatics who are very dangerous—at the time he gave himself up to the chief officer he knew, doubtless, that he had stabbed two men, and that in a certain sense it was a wrong act, but whether or not he knew it adequately I would not say; there are a great many degrees of completeness of knowledge—one of the blows he received 11 years ago was in drunken row, when he was struck over the head by a policeman—his memory was good as to that, I don't say that his memory was affected.
Re-examined. I have not the least doubt that he is insane; I believe that at the time he did this he was not aware of the quality of the act he was committing.
GUILTY . — DEATH (afterwards reprieved).
THIRD COURT.—Friday, September 21st, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
852. HERBERT CROATRY (22) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Edward George Denman, and stealing 23 spoons and other articles.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Saturday, September 22nd, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. C. MATHEWS Prosecuted; MR. BLACKWELL Defended.
The letter did not reach the prosecutrix, being intercepted by her mother, MR. BLACKWELL contended that there was no sufficient publication, it was an immoral proposal made by letter; it would not have been a crime if made verbally, but would only amount to immorality. (See Reg. v. Hansford, 13 Cox Criminal Cases, page 9, and Reg. v. Brook, 7 Cox Criminal Cases, 251).
MR. MATHEWS contended that the sending of a letter inciting a girl was a misdemeanour at common law, and might be the subject of a criminal indictment; it was not necessary that the girl should see, it, the mother having read it was sufficient. (See Reg. v. Burdett, 4 Bramwell and Alderson, page 95).
THE RECORDER, having grave doubts as to whether the indictment was sustainable, directed a verdict of Guilty, and reserved the points for the Court of Criminal Appeal.
GUILTY . — To enter into recognisances in 20l. to come up for
judgment when called upon.
MR. GEIFFITHS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted; MR. EDMUNDS appeared for Honley, and MR. BESLEY for Currey. (Honley received a good character.)
— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, September 22nd, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant,
MESSRS. FILLAN and KEELING Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and LAWLESS Defended.
I engaged the prisoner through an advertisement which he answered; he said he was past sixteen—I asked him particularly, because I am not allowed by the Post Office regulations to have anyone under sixteen—his duty was before 4 o'clock to take all the surplus stamps I had on the premises in this box, and my cash takings, gold, notes, and cheques in a canvas bag to be deposited for safe custody with the City Bank, Fore Street—the bag the money was in was about four or five inches long I should think—on Friday, 24th, I was out of town—Miss Coxon and Miss Marriott, my assistants, were there—Miss Marriott was the clerk in charge—I never saw the prisoner again till he was in custody about a week after—I got this post-card on the following Monday—to the best of my knowledge it is in his handwriting—I cannot swear to it—I had a letter from him.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in my service fifteen days—the previous boy I had to discharge for an act of irregularity; it may have amounted to dishonesty—the prisoner had taken the stamps and money to the bank for fifteen days—I went with him on the morning of the first day to introduce him to the bank—he would have every day money in the banker's bag to pay in, varying in amount—Friday was one of our heaviest days—the money would be given to him behind the counter and behind a screen by one of my clerks—people were in the shop—the box containing the stamps has been returned to me through the Metropolitan Railway intact, with stamps to the value of 136l. 10s.—the boy said in his letter he had put the box and the book on the Metropolitan Railway, hoping they would be returned—the pass-book has not been returned—the box came back to me through the police making inquiries on the day of the robbery—I have examined the contents of the box—the 136l. worth of stamps is made up of stamps from one halfpenny to 6d.—I know what money was in the bag from what I have been told—it was an ordinary red bank bag four or five inches long; it would contain 100l. in gold—there was no silver in it or postal orders, but there were three crossed cheques amounting to 15l.—the balance was made up in Bank of England notes, some of which have been stopped—the highest value of the notes was 5l.—there was 55l. in notes—155l. altogether—the box would be locked by my clerk before it went away, and the key retained in the office.
Re-examined. Every precaution was taken to stop the stamps by giving information at all the receiving houses in the Metropolis and principal provincial towns, and a description of the person who had taken them.
By the JURY. The bank would take the prisoner's receipt every morning when he took the box away, but they did not give him a receipt when they received it.
MARY JANE MARRIOTT . I am in Mr. D'Arcy's employment—on Friday, 24th August, I was clerk in charge of the post-office there—it was my duty to count the cash between 3. 30 and 4 p. m.—I did so 10 minutes before I gave it to the boy—there was 100l. in gold, 55l. in notes, and three cheques amounting to 15l., 170l. in all—I put it all in a canvas bag about 6 inches by 4 inches—I always during that fortnight gave it to the boy, and directed him to be very careful always to put it right down in his trousers pocket, so that it could not be seen by any passer-by—he put it right down that day, no part of the bag could be seen—I gave it to him in the office behind the screen, separated from
the office, and behind the desk, at the other end of the shop—the desk has a frosted glass, through which you cannot see—he left at 10 minutes to 4—I know his writing very well; I should think this was his writing.
Cross-examined. I sent the money and stamps between 3.30 and 4 every day—the stamps were always in this box—any person about there between 3.30 and 4 would see the boy with the box going in the direction of Fore Street every day—we have been doing it for years; nobody has been touched before—people would be in the shop between 3.30 and 4, but they could not see that—the wire-blind looks on to Coleman Street—if persons stood up on the other side of Coleman Street they might see behind the desk, I think—there is a blind to the window from the top; it is not drawn when we are working—the desk is at right angles to the window—a wire railing separates my desk from people in the shop—persons could not see it from the street, unless they went up steps on the other side, because we are elevated from the ground—some of them said before the Magistrate they did not believe there were steps on the other side—you my take it is in all probability impossible to see in from the street.
JAMES D'ARCY (Re-examined). No one could look into this window from Coleman Street—the window is six or seven feet from the pavement, I should think—they could see in from a window opposite, but, not otherwise—there are steps leading to the office immediately opposite, and possibly from those steps persons could see into the shop, but not what we were doing; they could only see the top part of anybody.
Miss CROFTON. I have cautioned the prisoner on other occasions to put the bag well down in his pocket—I did not attend to him on this particular Friday—I serve in the shop.
ALFRED FRYER . I am a parcel postman, No. 39, at the General Postoffice—I know the prisoner as being employed by Mr. D'Arcy—on Friday, 24th August, I saw him in Aldersgate Street about 4. 15—I passed quite close to him; he was eating an apple which was in his left hand, and carrying this box (produced) in his right hand—he was walking along slowly and quietly—I met him between Falcon Street and Jewin Street, some distance from Fore Street—there is no main thoroughfare from Fore Street to Aldersgate Street, except up Jewin Street—there are two or three ways of getting into Aldersgate Street from Fore Street; one is through Falcon Street and across Falcon Square—the direct way would be through Jewin Street—he was going away from the direction of Fore Street into Aldersgate Street.
WILLIAM CLEVERLEY (Policeman D 152). About 12 o'clock at night on Wednesday, 29th August, I saw the prisoner in Bell Street, Edgware Road—he had a peculiar way of looking at people that attracted my attention—I watched him for some little time—he walked across the road, took off his coat and his hat, and hung the hat on some railings outside a shop in Bell Street; he went towards Carlisle Street with his coat on his arm—I took his hat from the railings, and followed him—I overtook him in Carlisle Street, and said to him "Where are you going?"—he said "I am going to bed"—I said "Where?"—he said "56"—I said "56 where?"—he said "Grove Road"—I went with him to Grove-Road, St. John's Wood, to see if he lived there—he rang the bell; that is where his father lives—I rang. the bell at No. 56—his father looked out at the window, and said "All right," and came to the door—I said
"Is this your son?"—he said "Yes, you know what he is wanted for; he is wanted for absconding with some money, about 300l., from a post-office in the City;" he said if I would wait a minute or two he would come to the station with me; I waited, and we went to the station, when the prisoner was detained—the father asked him where he had been staying, and he said he had been living on his pocket-money, and the father said "You must have been a very foolish boy not to have come home or written"—he said "I couldn't help it, Dad"—on the way to the station the father and the son had a conversation; I could not say what they were talking about exactly, but I heard the father say "The least said the better"—I took him to the station, where Sergeant Downes, who had charge of the case, came and took it—the father did not give me the letter.
Cross-examined. When I saw the boy he appeared dazed and stupid he did not appear so when he told his father where he had been stopping—I did not search him, but I know a halfpenny was found on him—his father got him something to eat—he ate with a good appetite; he appeared to have been without food for some time—when I saw him he was looking round and turning his eyes on people passing—I was struck by the peculiar way he had of casting his eyes on people—he would walk up in front of persons, stop and look at them, and then fall back.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have not been able to find out where he was staying in the interval.
FREDERICK DOWNES (City Detective Sergeant). The prisoner's father handed in this document (produced) in the office, and it was given to me—on the 30th August in the early morning, about 4 o'clock, I went to the police-station in Molyneux Street, Edgware Road—the prisoner was given into my charge; he was awaiting my arrival—I told him I was a police-officer from the City, and that he would be charged with stealing a box of money to the amount of about 300l.—he said "I did not steal them, but, as usual, was entrusted to take them to the City Bank in Fore Street; when by some new buildings a man said 'Give me a match?' I was feeling for one in the small pocket of my coat when he snatched the bag of gold from my right hand trousers pocket, and ran along a short street by the side of a railway. I said 'Halloa, what are you doing?' and ran after him; I ran some distance, and I suddenly thought I had left the box and the stamps at the corner of the street; I came back and secured them; by that time I had lost sight of the man; I became bewildered, and did not know what to do; I went to Moorgate Street Station, and took a ticket for Baker Street; I afterwards altered my mind, and went on to Aldersgate Street, thinking I might meet the man. I got into a train there, and purposely left the box and the stamps and the bank-book in the train"—he said he took the ticket from Moorgate Street to Baker Street; he said "I should know the man again, I have seen him before," and he gave a minute description of a man—he said he was about between 30 or 40, taller than me, he had a long black coat on, and a hat dented in at the top, he thought it was a hard felt hat; a moustache darker than mine, a rough, red face, and a circular scar round the right eye—I asked him how he supposed the man knew he had money about him—he said he did not know, unless he saw the end of the bag out of his pocket; he said he saw an account in the paper of the robbery, a ad he had written to his father and Mr. D'Arcy telling
them how it happened; at that time I searched the prisoner—I found a halfpenny only—on the way to the police-court I took him along Fore Street, and asked him to show me the spot where the alleged robbery took place, and he showed me the corner of Fore Street Avenue, that is a new thoroughfare now; it used to be called Maidenhead Court; it is a street leading to the railway station; it leads to the court alongside the station running into Moorfields, but this was at the corner of the avenue; they have just erected new shops and warehouses there; there are a number of workmen there; it is a very busy thoroughfare.
Cross-examined. The distance from the spot he pointed out to the Metropolitan Railway is about 50 yards—Abbott of the City Police was with him when he gave this description—Abbott recognised a man of that description—I would not be sure that that man had been in custody—Abbott is a very experienced City officer—Abbott said a man answering that description had been in custody—he said the box had been left in the Metropolitan Railway—it was found under the seat before the information arrived; in that instance his statement was correct.
By the Jury. The spot which he pointed out as being robbed at was between the post-office and the bank he was going to; about midway about 60 yards each way—the bank, police-station, and post-office are all within a radius of 150 yards.
The COMMON SERGEANT read the letter from the prisoner to his father, which contained practically the same statement as that made to the police officer.
JAMES D'ARCY (Re-examined). The post-card was posted at the same time as the letter, and would have been delivered on the Saturday but that there was an overcharge on it—I had a good character with the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
FREDERICK GORDON . I live at London Street, Limehouse—on night of 2nd August I went to bed leaving my house securely fastened—the top sash of the kitchen window was a fixture, the bottom sash was down and fastened with a piece of wood; in the morning, about half-past 3 to 4, as I went out of my room with a poker, I found the prisoner leaving the house by the front door—I followed him and he ran into a policeman's arms in Brenton Street—I went back to my house and found an entrance had been effected by the piece of wood having been removed and the kitchen window raised; it was up and the middle door, which had been bolted inside, was open, and the bolt forced off—I missed from my house some plates, a pepper-box, boots, a curtain and apron, and my wife's purse was found on the prisoner at the station—some things were placed in an apron outside the window in the yard ready to be taken away—these things (produced) are my property.
MOY (Policeman H 263). I was on duty in Brenton Street, Limehouse, on morning of 3rd August between 3 and 4; I heard some one call out "Stop thief," and saw the prisoner coming towards me—I stopped him; the prosecutor was behind him and gave him into my custody for burglary—I asked the prisoner what he had been up to; he said "Nothing"—I took him to the station and searched him, and in his hat found a pair of child's boots, a pair of spectacles and scissors, and a
purse, and these other things—the boots were identified as Gordon's property.
WILLIAM ELY (Police Inspector H). As soon as the prisoner was taken to the station I went to the house; I found the window had been raised and an entry effected thereby, the window blind was torn down, and the door leading into the house had been broken open.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "How can you call this a burglary when the window was open?"
The Prisoner in his defence said he shook the window and the piece of wood fell out, and that he was going through the house to get to the road, when the prosecutor came after him.
GUILTY . There was another indictment for a similar offence against the prisoner.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
858. FREDERICK WATERS PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a tricycle, the goods of Charles Stevenson; also to stealing a mare, set of harness, and phaeton, the goods of Catherine Williams, who recommended him to mercy. A doctor deposed that the prisoner suffered from epilepsy, and that his intellect was, to a certain extent, affected.— Discharged on his father's recognisances in 30l. to come up for judgment when called on.
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 24th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
WILLIAM GRACE (Policeman D 168). I was on duty in Harley-Street at 6. 10 a. m. on 6th August, and saw the prisoner on top of a wall abutting on 115, Harley Street, with this bag in his hands, which contained 28 antimacassars and an ink-stand, which have been identified—as soon as he saw me he jumped off the wall, dropped the bag, and ran away—I chased him through several streets into Cavendish Square; another policeman stopped him in Swallow Passage, and brought him to me—I told him I saw him on the wall, and should detain him till the premises were searched—he said "You have made a mistake."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The wall was 10 feet high; there were spikes on it; I could not see whether the man's feet were on the spikes or the wall—I called another constable to pick the bag up; he joined in the pursuit—I blew my whistle; I never lost sight of you only a quarter of a minute, while you turned a corner.
WILLIAM GOODMAN (Policeman D 309). I was on duty, heard a police-man's whistle, and saw the prisoner running—I chased him, and took him in Swallow Passage—he said he was going to work—I said I should take him back to the other constable—he said I had made a mistake—I handed him over to Grace.
Cross-examined. I did not blow my whistle; I saw the man run into Cavendish Square; that is half a mile from where the robbery took place, but there is only one turning.
went with the servant to the back room first floor, and found it locked on the outside—after unlocking it I found an obstruction on the inner side, a lot of furniture had been placed against the door; the window was open and the room in confusion and ransacked—the keyhole was stopped with paper—on the inner side a lot of half-burnt matches were lying about—access had been gained by getting on to a cistern outside the window and opening it—I traced marks over several walls in Devonshire Street—I returned to the station, searched the prisoner, and found these silk wrappers in an inner pocket of his coat—he said "Those are my property"—I found a box of matches in his pocket—the wall where he was seen was 25 yards from the house—he would have to get over several walls.
Cross-examined. The wall was not so high inside as outside; it was less than seven feet; it was difficult to get over it, and would take some time on account of the spikes.
CHARLOTTE FULLER . I am housemaid to Mr. Oswald—these four silk wrappers and these antimacassars are his property—I saw the window safe on August 4th, two days before, when I had the room routed out, and had not been into it since it was packed with furniture.
Cross-examined. The room had been entered by the window, which was reached by the cistern outside—I could have got up myself, and there was no fastening on the window—I identify these wraps by some red stitches on them—there are no marks or initials.
Prisoner's Defence. These things come from the loom in thousands. I got them in Bed-Lion-Square. I bought a dress-coat, and found them in the pocket.
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court in October 1887.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
SOPHIA JACOBS . I am the wife of Henry Jacobs, of 2, Coulhurst Villas, Devonshire Street—on 16th August the coachman brought my husband home at 12. 30—I had not gone to bed—he was talking to the coachman in the breakfast-parlour, and at 12. 40 I heard a noise overhead—we went upstairs, and found the prisoner under our bed in the front parlour—my husband threatened him with a sword, and he came out and begged my husband to give him a good hiding and let him go—the window was open; I had fastened it at 6 o'clock; the catch had been pushed back with a knife.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The street door was not open—I let the coachman in by the basement door in the area.
HENRY KIRBY (Police Sergeant J 10). The prisoner was given into my custody—he said "I have no tools on me; the window was open, and I was put into it"—I examined the window; it had been opened by a knife, and I found this knife on the prisoner with paint marks on it.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was under the influence of drink; I found the window open."
GUILTY . — Six Months Hard Labour.
MR. KEELING Prosecuted.
JOHN SHUMAKER . I am a butcher, of 63, Cambridge Road—on 19th August, at 11 p. m., I was in Cambridge Road, and the prisoner ran out of Lisbon Street, and snatched my chain—I ran and caught him, and another man attacked me and struck me four times about my head with a stick—I let the prisoner go, and he gave me a blow with a stick which cut my nose open; he also struck me on the arm—I was surrounded by six others, and holloaed out—the prisoner knocked me down again, and the 15s. was taken from my trousers pocket—I got up and holloaed out "All right, Carrotty, I will have you, I know you well enough"—I have known him six or eight months—he has bought things in my shop—I described him to the police, and three days after I picked him out at the station from ten or twelve others.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can show three marks, and I was black and blue.
PATRICK ENRIGHT (Police Sergeant). I received a description of the prisoner from the prosecutor, and found him in the Blind Beggar public-house, Whitechapel Road, with two others—I called him out, and told him I should take him on suspicion of being one of three men who assaulted and robbed the prosecutor in Cambridge Road on August 19th—he said "All right"—I took him to the station; he was put with several others, and the prosecutor took hold of him, and would have assaulted him if I had not prevented him—he made no reply to the charge—the prosecutor's hat was broken, and he had several bruises and lumps on his head.
Prisoner's Defence. Is it possible that I should snatch his chain and not run away? that is the first thing a thief would do; he cannot prove any blows; he has not been in any hospital, and his hair has not been cut. In 1876 I was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude and seven years' police supervision, and no officer can say I have not fulfilled the conditions laid down for me. About two months ago I was in the Foresters public-house to look after my son, and Policeman 173 was there in uniform drinking with come persons. He called out "Halloa, Cook, how are you?" That is the name I was convicted in. I went to the station and reported him, and I found that he had told the people he was with, that I was a convict. The inspector told me to come next morning; I did so, and he said to a policeman on the point" Do you know 173?" He said "No. "I said "If it is not 173 it is 73." He said "I will send for 173. "I said "I want you to reprimand him. "That is the reason this case has been brought against me. I have been struggling to get an honest living for seven years.
PATRICK ENRIGHT (He-examined). The prisoner has reported himself regularly every month for seven years—during that time there have been no felomes against him, but some assaults—two months ago he went to the station to make a charge, but he could not substantiate it because he was drunk—he said 73, not 173—it is well known that his name is Cool—this is not spite.
He then PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction at Clerkenwell on March 27th, 1870.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
862. GEORGE KITSELL (56) , Breaking and entering the counting-house of Thomas Fry, and stealing four watches, three bottles of wine, three bills of exchange, his property, and other goods, the property of other persons.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
THOMAS PERRYMAN . I am manager at Thomas Fry's, a merchant, of 40, Bishopsgate Street Within on the ground floor—there is a hatter's shop in front—no one sleeps on the premises—on August 8th I locked up the office at 4 o'clock, and took the key to Mr. Picking, who manages the hatter's shop—all was safe when I left—I returned next morning at 9.30; the charwoman had opened the office—I opened the safe with a key of my own, and went to a cash-box of mine, which I had left fastened, containing valuable securities—the lid came open, and I missed some of the contents—this bill (produced) for 250l., a bill for 47l. 12s., another for 50l. 12s. 8d., and a small sum of money—there was another key to the safe, which Mr. Fry kept in an unlocked drawer in the office—I saw him look in the drawer; the key was there, but not in its usual place—I also missed three bottles of sherry, marked "Law, Holloway, and Co."—I informed the police—I have never seen the prisoner before.
Cross-examined. It is very old sherry; there is no more like it.
EDWARD PICKING . I am manager to Mr. Bratton, a linendraper, of 40, Bishopsgate Street—Perryman gave me the key of his office at 4 o'clock on 8th August—it was my custom to hang it up on a nail in the office—I locked the street door at 6 or 6.30—nobody slept in the house, and I took the key of the street door to Mrs. Burroughs about 8.30—Mrs. Goodwin, a charwoman, came night and morning, and I left Mr. Fry's key in his office door, and locked up the street door—when I arrived the next morning the charwoman gave me the key of Mr. Fry's office; she had cleaned it, and I went in to see about the letters, and it was just as usual, but I missed a pair of boots—the outer door had been opened with a key—I saw the prisoner as nearly as I can remember six or seven years ago—he was then employed by Mr. Tripp, of St. Mary Axe, to repair the lock of our street door, as we could not get in—he picked the lock, took it off, and took it to Mr. Tripp's, kept it an hour or two, and brought it back and put it on again—that was the same lock; the lock of the outer door.
Cross-examined. You have never been to the house since to my knowledge—I have only seen you once, but I should have recognised you if I had met you—I had heard that the man who was taken had worked for Tripp, and I said I thought I should know the man who picked the lock of the door—it is not a spring lock; you must unlock it to enter and again to come out—if you had the key you could open it in about a second without being seen—no key was missing.
MARY BURROUGHS . I am housekeeper at No. 1, St. Helens Place—on 8th August I received a key from Mr. Picking; I kept it in my custody till I handed it to Hannah Elizabeth Goodwin the following morning.
standing in a doorway near No. 40, Bishopsgate Street Within—he looked about some time and then turned down Great St. Helen's—I went through Crosby Square, the next turning, met him face to face and passed him; I then changed my coat and followed him—next morning, Monday, I saw him there again about the same time, standing in the doorway of the Four Swans public-house—that is facing No. 40—I believe he saw me—he left—I believe he knew me as a police-officer—I have not seen him there since.
HENRY BUTLER . I am housekeeper to Mrs. Bligh, of 56, Thread-needle Street—I know the prisoner—on Thursday morning, 9th August, about 8.30 a.m., he came to me at my employer's and showed me three bills of exchange for 250l., one for about 60l., and the other 41l., and said "Just look at these, I want to know what you can do with them for me;" I told him that the one for 250l. looked perfectly in order, as it was signed and endorsed, but the other two I did not think were of any value, because I saw that one was a second bill—he said "Do you think you can raise any money on them?"—I said "Do you mean you want to get them discounted?"—he said "Yes, and there is a fiver for you"—I appointed to meet him at 6 p.m. at a public-house in Finch Lane—I said "Are the bills yours?"—he said "Yes, they are perfectly right, perfectly straight, they belong to a man who will not be in town till Saturday week and wants me to get some money on them"—I informed my employer, and by his instructions went to the public-house at 6 o'clock and met the prisoner—I took the particulars of the bills and met him the next day by appointment—I told him I could get him 150l. for the 250l. bill—I knew that was false—he promised me 30l.—next day at 6 o'clock, by the instruction of a detective, I met him and he gave me the 250l. bill—he was to remain in the public-house while I went and got 30l. on the bill—I took him to a place where it had been arranged that Leamon, a detective, should meet him.
Cross-examined. It was not I who proposed my getting this amount; it was you.
ROBERT LEAMON (City Detective). On 10th August, from a communication made to me, I went with two officers to Finch Lane, and saw the prisoner hand Butler a piece of paper—Butler and the prisoner then went to the Albion public-house, Threadneedle Street, as arranged; Butler left the prisoner there, and went into a suite of offices opposite—I followed, and saw Butler on the staircase, and took the bill from him, and found it corresponded with the one stolen—I went to where the prisoner was standing, and said to Butler "Where did you get this bill from?"—he made no reply—I repeated the question, and Butler said "This man gave them to me," meaning the prisoner, who made no reply—I said "Holloa, Kitsell, it is you, is it? how do you account for this? take him down to the station, and take care he does not destroy anything on the way, I will follow with Butler"—when the charge was read over to him at the station, he said "I know nothing about it, I can account for the bill of exchange; as regards that man, Butler, he is perfectly innocent of any offence respecting the bill, and I think I can prove my innocence in the matter; that is all I have to say to you, you two-faced b----s; I done you last time, and so I shall this"—he refused his address—I went with Detective Bacon to 5, Haydon Square, Minories, and searched the upper part, where the prisoner and his wife and family
resided, and found two bottles of sherry and one empty sherry bottle, all bearing the brand "Holloway and Co." on the cork—I took them to the station—the prisoner was brought into the charge room, and I said "I have found your address, searched your apartments, and found these three bottles, two full of sherry, and one empty; they are no doubt the three bottles stolen from 40, Bishopsgate Street, the day before yesterday; how do you account for the possession of them?"—he said "They are mine, and I can give a good account of them"—I saw him searched—a pair of pliers was handed to me; they correspond with the marks on the cash-box.
Cross-examined. The bottles were wrapped up in paper and rags in a cupboard, which was not locked, and covered with coal.
The prisoner in his defence stated that it was Butler's suggestion to get money on the bills as he had done before; that he did not recollect being sent for to repair the lock of prosecutor's front door seven years ago, but it might be so, as he had opened some thousand locks, but it was not possible to remember their mechanism. He contended that the robbery must have been committed by some one well acquainted with the habits of the house, and stated that he had had the wine since March, and got it from a house in Jermyn Street, where it had been pledged; that any tools in his tool basket would produce the same marks as the pliers found on him; that the detectives had got him out of three situations by persecuting him, and that he had written to the Police Commissioners about it; that he found the three bills in an envelope at the King's Arms Tavern, and that two men who saw him find them said that he had better keep them, as there was sure to be a reward for them, and in the evening he took them to Butler, who said that two of them were useless, but that he could obtain 150l. advance on the other, for which he promised him 20l., not 30l., and that if he had obtained the money he should have returned it to the owner if he had appeared, and that it was not likely he would have thrown away his liberty by such a crime, having borne a good character for nearly 60 years. He denied the charge in the indictment of having been convicted at Gloucester, and having been sentenced to five years' penal servitude.
RICHARD WIGGETT . I produce a certificate of the prisoner's conviction at Gloucester Assizes on 31st March, 1871—I have not the slightest doubt that he is the man—there was no previous conviction then, but there were two charges against him for burglary and one for robbing his master—he served his whole time; he got no remission.
Cross-examined. I received this letter from Sir Reginald Hanson's firm; you entered their service in May, 1886, and remained two and a half years, and you were discharged for dishonesty—you had been employed at Farrer and Jacobs' at the beginning of 1869, and were discharged for dishonesty—you were discharged from Sir R. Hanson's firm because, instead of getting only what you wanted from the firm, you got other goods at Jackson's, in Great Tower Street.
Re-examined. The prisoner was employed this year at Mr. Cornish's and since he left the premises have been broken into and the order book stolen, and bills have been presented which are said to be in the prisoner's writing—goods have been obtained stating they were for Messrs. Waterlow, where he had been employed—he was discharged
from there in 1884, and was charged at this Court and acquitted—that is what he refers to as persecuting him—he was tried here before Commissioner Kerr for a similar case to this; he was concealed in a cellar; I had to destroy the jamb to get him out, and I found 52 picklock keys on him, many of which fitted doors of the premises where he was employed—he complained to the Commissioners of Police respecting my pay—he applied at Guildhall for the restoration of the bunch of keys; I objected—he accused me of having tried to get evidence out of his wife.
The Prisoner. I have never been charged but once, and then I was acquitted.
The Witness. You were charged here in June, 1884; there were three other cases where the prosecutors did not appear, and the keys found on you opened the drawers of offices where you were employed—Sayer, a City officer, had the case in hand; you were acquitted on the last occasion, because the prosecutor did not attend; I also know you by a scar on your left shin. (Two photographs of the prisoner were here produced.)
GUILTY . The Jury also found him guilty of the conviction at Gloucester.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
BRIDGET SWEENEY . I keep a lodging-house at 36, Albion Street, Birmingham—the prisoner lodged there from January till March, when he left, owing me 6l.—he said he had been in the Army Reserve—he gave me these papers (produced) when he left, and said "Keep these papers in your possession, and I will call for them"—on 29th June I enclosed them in a letter to the War Office Authorities at Hounslow—before that I saw the prisoner's brother-in-law in reference to the papers, but he did not take them away—I have not been paid.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You may have had a glass of drink when you gave me the papers, but you knew what you were doing—you gave me 11l. when you took my rooms, but you spent it all.
WILLIAM BELL . I am quartermaster-sergeant at the pay office at Hounslow—it is my duty to attend to the pay of the Army Reserve men—on 31st May I received this letter: "Private John Smith wishes to say I have lost my papers, and shall be glad if you will send me some more to Adam's Cottage, King's Cross"—I went to that address, and told him that a duplicate could only be issued on the form forwarded before a Justice of the Peace, and said "You are warned that if the declaration is false or untrue in any particular, you are liable to be indicted for perjury"—on June 4th we received this paper from the prisoner. (This stated that he had lost the papers in May, and was unable to find them, and that he had not left them with any creditor.) I then sent authority to the War Office to issue a duplicate; I then wrote another letter to the prisoner. (This directed him to make further search, and report the result on the 12th.) On June 9th I got this reply: "Sir, I, John Smith, have made all search up to this date, and can get no information"—that signature is in the same writing as the declaration, and on 20th June a fresh life certificate was sent out—that was the certificate of two householders that the man was actually alive, that came back to me filled up in the same writing as the declaration—I received a letter from Mrs. Sweeney saying that she
had an identity certificate, and I wrote to her and asked her to send it, which she did about July 2nd—I should say that this is the document originally issued to the defendant on 23rd December, 1887—we wrote to the War Office enclosing her letter, and told them what had happened—this transfer form (F) is filled up and signed "John Smith, October 1st, 1887"—that is in the same writing as the other.
By the COURT. He was entitled to his pension, but not to a duplicate certificate—she sent it to me on July 2nd, and it was deferred till August 1st, and would have been issued but from what I heard from Mrs. Sweeney.
SAMUEL GUNNER . I am assistant clerk at Clerkenwell Police-court—this declaration was made before Mr. Barstow, the Magistrate, on June 2nd—the man who made it declared it to be true, and that that was his name and writing—I cannot say whether the prisoner is the man.
WILLIAM CARTER . I live at 3, Adam's Cottages, York Road, King's Cross—I know the prisoner as working for Mr. Bennet for three months—letters in the name of John Smith were taken in for him at my house, and I gave them to him, but he did not live there.
HARRY DIDDUMS (Police Sergeant G). On 1st July I found the prisoner detained at King's Cross Police Station—I held a warrant for his arrest for making a false declaration—I read it to him—he said "I wrote to Mrs. Sweeney to ask her if she had my papers, and she wrote and said no."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I wrote to my brother to ask Mrs. Sweeney for the identity certificate; he did not get it, and she said it was lost."
Prisoner's Defence. If Mrs. Sweeney had my papers she must have got them when I was drunk; I do not remember doing so; I have been in prison seven weeks.
GUILTY .— Two Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, September 24th and 25th, 1888.
Before Mr. Justice Charles.
MESSRS. POLAND and MEAD Prosecuted; MESSRS. GILL, HORACE AVORY, and ARTHUR GILL Defended.
The details of this case are unfit for publication. The defendant, a medical man, was alleged to have caused the death of the deceased by an unlawful operation, performed with intent to procure abortion.
The principal evidence for the prosecution was a written statement taken in dictation from and signed by the deceased shortly before her death, and which was sought to be admitted as a dying declaration. Besides this, the deceased had, from time to time during her illness, made statements as to her bodily sufferings and their cause; though inadmissible as dying declarations, MR. POLAND offered these statements as expressions of the deceased's bodily feeling. Quoting Reg. v. Palmer (shorthand report),
Avison v. Lord Kinnaird, 6 East, and Phillips on Evidence, 149 (10th edition). MR. GILL and MR. AVORY contended that such evidence must be restricted to expressions of the deceased's feelings and symptoms at the time of making the complaint, excluding all statements as to their cause and the mention of any name. The following cases were cited: Reg. v. Gutteridge, 9 C. and P., 472; Reg. v. Osborne, Car. and M., 622; Reg. v. Megson and others, 9 C. and P., 420. After hearing MR. POLAND in reply, MR. JUSTICE CHARLES decided that the statements must be limited to contemporaneous symptoms, and that nothing in the nature of a narrative was admissible as to how her bodily condition was caused, or who occasioned it. With these limitations the evidence was admitted. On the question of the admissibility of the written statement, MR. POLAND said it was a question for the Court whether it was made in expectation of impending death. Her own expressions were: "I do not think I shall recover"; "I shall not be long here." He referred to the judgments in Reg. v. Jenkins, L.R., 1 Crown Cases Reserved, 187. MR. GILL, in answer, quoted the judgment of Mr. Justice Byles in Reg. v. Jenkins, L. R., 1 Crown Cases Reserved, 187, that "dying declarations ought to be admitted with scrupulous and almost superstitious care." He also relied upon Reg. v. Osman, 15 Cox. 1. MR. JUSTICE CHARLES held, as the result of the decisions, that there must be an unqualified belief in the nearness of death, every hope of this world must be gone; and in the words of Mr. Justice Wills, in Reg. v. Peel, there must be "a settled hopeless expectation of death." Taking all the circumstances of the case together, he could not come to the conclusion that the deceased was in that condition. The statement, therefore, could not be admitted. MR. POLAND stated that, the declaration being excluded, he could not proceed further.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Monday, September 24th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BRAIN Prosecuted.
EDWARD LANE . I am the prisoner Lane's brother; I used to live at 3, Cole Street; I am now one of Dr. Barnardo's shoeblacks—I have seen this coat and waistcoat (produced) on my brother—I last saw him wearing them about two months before he was discharged at the police-court—I saw him in Curtain Road, where he lodged with a lady—I saw these garments on Bally when he was at the Outcasts' Haven—one of these pairs of boots are my brother's, he had them when he ran away from the Outcasts' Haven and went to live with the lady—I saw these clothes at the Outcasts' Haven when the prisoners were there—I was not at the Home on the morning of the burglary.
EDWARD CHRISTIE . I live at the Outcasts' Haven, 313, Burdett Road, kept by Mr. Walter Austin—I saw the prisoner Lane at the labour house, the wood choppers', about three or four weeks before the burglary—he knocked at the door and threw some mud and ran away—he was wearing this waistcoat then, it was slit up the side, that is how I tell it
was Lane that broke into the Home—I have not seen him wearing the coat—I have not seen Bally since he has been out of the Home—he asked me for a pair of trousers, and the superintendent said "I have not got them here now, you must wait till I get a pair to fit you," and he gave him a pair, and he did not like to wear them, so he put these trousers on—that was just before he ran away—when Bally ran away he was wearing this pair with the patch in the knee.
EDWARD ALFRED FIELD . I live at the Home, 313, Burdett Road—on Thursday, 9th August, I was in Burdett Road between 9.30 and 10—I saw George Lane, and Bally, and two others there, standing against the wall with their hands behind them—I saw this waistcoat six or eight weeks ago, and before that—George Lane was wearing it on the 9th August, it was slit up the side—on the following morning, 10th August, when I went out in the morning, the street door was open, the clothes were all over the basement, and there was a bundle of shirts on the coke at the bottom of the grating, where the grating was broken, and 13 flutes belonging to the band were gone, two waistcoats, three coats, two or three collars, and three hats—there is a wide plank to slide the coke and coal down when it comes in from the grating in front of the building in Burdett Road on to the floor—all the dust on the plank was all on one side where they had slid down from the grating—at the bottom of the grating were twenty-one shirts in a bundle; their old clothes, two flannel shirts, some boots, coats, trousers, and waistcoats, which I recognise, were found in the basement by some one who was down before me—I had seen the waistcoat on Lane the night before; I only recognise that—I knew Lane before he was in the Home.
Cross-examined by Lane. I left work at 9, and I saw you between 9.30 and 10.
By the COURT. I saw the lock off the store room in the basement; it had been forced, and the screws were out; it was hanging by one screw—the prisoners were not wearing the clothes when they were at the Home.
HUBERT DUCK (Detective Sergeant K). I took Lane on 13th August, about 1.5, in Scrutton Street, Shoreditch, and charged him with breaking into this house—he replied "I know nothing about it; I can prove where I was; I can see what it is, my brother wants to put me away."
WILLIAM HALEY . I am an inmate of the Outcasts' Haven, Burdett Road—I last saw Bally in the Home five or six months ago; I have not seen him since—I have seen Bally wearing these trousers—I recognise them by this patch—they were found in the basement—I came down a little before 6 o'clock on the morning of 10th August, and saw the store-room door just on the edge; the lock was hanging by one screw; the gas was turned down, not out; a pile of clothes remained where they had undressed—I sleep in the bedroom on the first floor; underneath is the dining room on the ground floor, and the store-room is under that—you go up steps to the front door, and down steps to the basement—the steps lead from the side of the door—entering from the front door you are in the girls' dining room; you go downstairs and upstairs again to the boys' dining-room.
two warehouses, one is an institution for destitute girls, 311, Burdett Road, and the other for boys, 313—there is only one entrance, all come in from 311; 313 is the entrance to the mission-hall, which is on the ground floor of 313; the boys go in at 311, and downstairs to their division—the store-room is in the basement of 313, partitioned off—the boys' dining-room is the mission-hall, and they sleep on the first and second floors of 313—the prisoners were not in the house on the night of the 9th—on the morning of the 10th my attention was called by Haley to the state of things about 5.45—there are five horizontal iron gratings over iron bars at 313 to light the basement—one of the iron gratings I had taken up to make a shoot for the coke—the shoot is a broad plank, one end of which rested on the foot of the grating, and the other on the floor where the coke is shot into—I had had some coke in, and the chain got underneath it, and a person could get down from the outside—the grating was left down, but was not chained, and you had only to lift it up—when I came down on the morning of the 10th I noticed all round the basement these old clothes—I identify the vest Lane had, and the trousers with the patch in the knee, and the shirt which Bally had—they had them on when they ran away from the Home 10 or 11 weeks before—I do not identify the boots—the flutes were gone; we have not found any of the stolen things—the grating was put back in its place; it would fall back—the board was covered with black coke dust, but it was clean where some one had slid down it—the coke had been trampled on; it lay half way up the board—the value of the articles was 5l. 10s. to 6l.—I missed 13 flutes, three pair of trousers, two vests, two new hats, three coats, and four pairs of boots—the store-room was locked, the lock was wrenched off, the boots and things taken came from there—to get to the store-room from the bottom of the plank they must have gone round by the urinal; I should think about 12 yards—any one from inside could do it, and crawl up the plank.
JAMES WILKINSON (Constable G). I arrested Bally in Great Eastern Street, Shoreditch, about four miles from Burdett Road—I told him he would be charged with Lane in breaking into the Outcasts' Haven in Burdett Road, and stealing various articles—he said "I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station—he was charged; he made no reply.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Lane says: "I was a-bed at 9.30 on Thursday night; I have a witness." Bally says: "I was a-bed at 11 o'clock, and did not get up till 8 o'clock next morning."
Witness for Lane.
AMY KALSEY . I live at 4, Norfolk Gardens, Curtain Road; my husband is a traveller—I know George Robert Lane as a lodger with my two sons—on 9th August you were a-bed about 1.30, and went out at 5 o'clock next morning—your brother had on these boots on Friday, the 10th; he came down very wretched a little after 1 o'clock; I did not take much notice of him; he seemed such a miserable looking fellow—you came in on the 9th at 8.30, and I gave you a candle, and you went to bed at 9.30—I did not see you next morning because you went to work at 5.30—I took your breakfast to you at 8.30—you sleep in the back room with my two sons, who are not here—I did not see you again that night.
By the COURT. My street door was locked at 11 o'clock and bolted by my husband—he is not here—he came in about half-past 10 or a quarter to 11—I cannot swear Lane remained in bed till half-past 5—these are the shirts he came to me in—neither of the prisoners wore boots like these produced—they do not wear these clothes, but white jackets, water-tight boots, and fustian trousers—Bally's father-in-law and the woman he lives with, live in my front room—I don't know when Bally came in; if he was not in at half-past 10 or 11 he was shut out for the night—they are wearing the coats, trousers, and boots they had when they came to me—Lane has been with me nine or ten weeks.
Cross-examined. The prisoners might perhaps have got out of the house and come back without my knowledge; it is a low building—Bally has got out of the front window many a time and over the roof and broken my flowers—I have been told by the neighbours he has got out that way at night and come back at 2 a.m.—I do not know it myself—he could get in; he has done it once or twice—Lane's brother came on the 10th August wearing those boots, to tell his brother they were after him (George Lane) for breaking into the Outcasts' Home—the prisoners have been with me nine or ten weeks—on 6th, 7th, and 8th Lane was working for the neighbour next door—he came in a little after 11 those nights—I know the 9th August, because it was holiday week—on the 9th Lane worked for the marble mason.
Lane in his defence said that he was in bed at half-past 9 on this night.
WILLIAM GOODSPEED (Re-examined). I was with the constables when they took the prisoners—they were wearing the clothes they have on now; those clothes were not stolen from us; I gave them to the prisoners some time ago—Lane is in Dr. Barnardo's Home; he was in my home some time before.
E. A. FIELD (Re-examined). When I saw the prisoners in Burdett Road, Lane said "Holloa, Long 'un"—I said "Holloa, George"—he said "Good-night," and I said "Good-night"—that was between half-past 9 and 10—I was coming home from a butcher's, who shuts up at any time—this was about three minutes' walk from the Home.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KEELING Prosecuted.
ALEXANDER LYDGATE . I am a tobacconist, of 55A, Fleet Street—the entrance is in Pleydell Court—on 4th September I shut up my premises, and left them securely fastened with a padlock outside—next morning I came at 10.30 and found the padlock had been broken off and a pair of handcuffs fastened on the door—it is about the fourth time my place has been tried.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have never seen you before—I can swear to this padlock (produced)—a man bought it specially for me.
Cross-examined. I was in the court when you were brought back in
custody—I did not shine my bull's-eye about the court and try to find the padlock—I was examining the door—the padlock was handed to the sergeant, who came down to the court with it—I was not present at your arrest—I was instructed by Clark to take charge of the premises—I cannot say I have ever seen you before.
CHARLES CLARK (City Policeman 515). On 4th September, about 11 p.m., I was standing about 20 yards from Pleydell Court—I saw two men standing at the top of the court; when they saw me coming down Fleet Street, one of them turned and whistled, and they walked away towards Temple Bar—the prisoner came out of the court rather hurriedly, looked to right and left of him, and walked away in the direction of the other two men—I turned my light on to the door of 55A, Fleet Street, the door of which is in Pleydell Court—I found the padlock was off—I turned and saw the prisoner walking away with the other two men—I followed them; they turned, and seeing I was following, they ran across the road in the direction of Fetter Lane—one of the men not in custody ran up Fleet Street towards Temple Bar; the other two went up Fetter Lane—I ran after them, calling out "Stop thief!"—the man not in custody ran down Trinity Church Passage on the opposite side—I followed the prisoner, who turned down West Harding Street, where I found him standing just inside the doorway of the Horseshoe and Magpie public-house—I said "I want you"—he walked about 50 yards down Fetter Lane, turned round, and said "What do you want me for?"—I said "You had better come back and see; what were you doing in that court?"—he said "I simply stood out of the rain"—I took him to the station, and charged him—it had been raining but was not raining at the time—when I asked his address he said "I only came from Southampton to-night; this is the first time I have been in London"—I found on him a penknife, a pipe, and a pawn-ticket, dated 29th August, 1888, Battersea—when the inspector read the charge over to him he said "I decline to give any account of myself."
Cross-examined. I saw you come out of the court and I followed you—you ran up Fetter Lane; you stood behind the door of the public-house—I stopped in the court a minute after I arrested you to see the constable there, and then went to the station—I caught a man; I thought he was the other one; I let him go—I did not say to another man "You saw this man in the court"—I told a constable to go down to mind the door; I had you in custody—I don't suppose you could break off the padlock with your hands; you only had a pipe and pen-knife—I did not bring the other man I caught hold of to the station, because I did not recognise him when I took him, and I was satisfied he was not the man—I did not undo my bull's-eye and search about to try and find the padlock—when I came back with you I looked and saw the padlock was off—the sergeant put the handcuffs on the door—I did not see you doing anything in the court.
Re-examined. It had been raining, but was not raining when he came out of the court—he went up close alongside the other men, and they went away together—it is a very dark court; there is no light near the Fleet Street end—the door is about two yards up the passage—the house has no front door in the street—I recognise the prisoner—the other end of the court runs into Bouverie Street.
about five minutes past 12, I saw the prisoner—I have seen him about for several weeks past.
Cross-examined. I have seen you as far back as seven months—there have frequently been lapses of several weeks during that time when I have not seen you.
The prisoner in a written defence said that he had come up from Southampton that evening, and was walking home, and stood inside the court for about 15 minutes to avoid the rain, and that when he left it the constable followed him.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GRAZEBROOK Prosecuted.
JOHN BLENNERHASSETT GODFREY . I was living at 33, Portland Terrace, St. John's Wood, on the morning of 29th August, when about 2 o'clock I heard a noise—I put the light out, took a poker, and went downstairs—I found the landing window open—I heard movements; I waited at the window in the dark for some time, seeing if he would pass me—I searched for him, and he must have been lying along the place, as I did not feel him—my wife called for the police out of her bedroom window; two constables came—while waiting I heard him get out at the window on the landing and jump on to the roof of a house, I think—I eventually saw him in custody, and charged him with having been in my house—he said nothing.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The landing window is at the back, and is about 9 feet from the ground—you got in by a step-ladder, which you must have stolen from other premises—I did not see you get out at the landing window; I know you did, because I was searching for you—I heard you get down.
HARRIETT SKEATS . I was cook in the prosecutor's service—on the night of 28th August I went to bed at 11.30; the landing window was closed, I am not sure it was fastened—there is a fastening to it; I did not look at it—I saw and heard nothing.
JOSEPH REEVES (Policeman S 358). At 2.45 on the morning of 29th August I was in the Barrow Hill Road—I heard cries of "Police" from 33, Portland Terrace, and I and another constable went there—I saw the prosecutor at the front door, and in consequence of what he said I waited in the street while Police-constable 254 searched the premises, to keep observation on an outlet by which he could have got away—I went into the garden; a step-ladder was placed against the rear of the house—I found the prisoner crouched down between a summer-house and a tree, in a garden two houses away; all I saw was his hands—I asked the prisoner what he was doing there—he made no reply—I asked him what way he came in—he made no reply—I told him I should take him to the station, and charge him with being on enclosed premises—he said nothing—when I examined him at the station I found both his arms and legs scarred all the way down, as though he had climbed the walls.
FRANCIS THOMAS HARRIS (Policeman S 254). On the morning of 29th August I was on duty in Albert Road—I heard cries of "Police," and went to the prosecutor's house with Reeves—I searched the house, but could find no one—the landing window was open—I came into the
street, and went through an empty house to the rear and searched the premises; after getting over several walls I heard some one drop in front of me—I called Reeves's attention, and he went round to the other end to prevent his escape, and we searched the premises together, and found the prisoner crouched behind a summer-house and the trees—when charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I daresay you were found half an hour after we were called—it was 3.15 when Mr. Godfrey called us; it was past 4 o'clock when you were charged—we had to wake the people up to get you into the street.
The prisoner in his defence said he was in drink, and knew nothing about the burglary.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 25th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted; MR. FRITH Defended.
ANN CLAXTON . I am the wife of Walter Claxton—on 27th August, between 9 and 10, I was with him in a public-house in Cavendish Street—we went out with the baby, and I was going to my mother, but I went back and had half a pint of ale to myself, and asked the landlord if he would lend me a shilling on my brooch—he would not—the prisoner was sitting on some steps in the bar, and could hear that—he took it out of my hand—I asked him for it and he hit me on the mouth; I told him I would fetch a policeman, and he hit me again, and here is the mark—I did not know him before—he did not give it back to me—I do not value it at anything, but it was my mother's.
Cross-examined. I was not in the public-house half an hour—I had not been in another public-house—I did not say that I wanted 3s. for the brooch—I do not remember turning round to drink a glass of ale and the prisoner telling me to put it down, as it belonged to him—they did not tell me to go away, as my company was not wanted—I did not use strong language—he did not push me away and say "I don't want anything to do with you"—he had left the house when I accused him of stealing my brooch—I was very much excited outside—I did not accuse a second man, but there were two in it—Mrs. Dyer is my landlady; I have not seen her here—she did not turn me out of her house for drunkenness, she gave me notice—I did not tell her when I got home that I had lost my brooch, and did not know what had become of it—I have left because I owed 6s. rent—she did not turn me out for drunkenness and immoral conduct; I have not got money to drink with.
WALTER CAMPION (Policeman G 15). On the morning of 28th August, shortly after midnight, the prosecutrix rushed out of a public-house in Cavendish Street and complained to me, and pointed out the prisoner and another man fifteen or twenty yards from the public-house walking
away—they saw her speak to me and ran—I pursued them about 200 yards together; they parted in Bridport Place; the prisoner turned to the right; I followed him, and in Bridport Place saw his hand go in that direction as if he threw something—I caught him in Waring Street—he said "I did not strike the woman"—Doughty afterwards handed me this brooch.
Cross-examined. I was 10 yards off when I saw his hand go like that; he was running then—he has been in respectable employment; he bears an honest character.
SAMUEL DOUGHTY (Policeman GR 36). Campion made a communication to me, and I looked over an area railing in Bedford Place, and saw this brooch lying there—I went down, picked it up, and handed it to Campion—the prosecutrix identified it.
NOT GUILTY .
JAMES DRISCOLL . I keep the Black Horse, Fieldgate Street, Whitechapel—on 11th August, about 12.30 a.m., I went round my house, saw all secure, and went to bed—I was called up just before 3 o'clock, and found a constable in the house, and Cohen, Sugar, the prisoner and another man—the prisoner said he got in through the kitchen skylight, and I went into the kitchen and found marks where he had slid down, and I traced over the walls where he had been—he had no shoes on, and he slipped.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. He lives three doors from me, and I knew him as a customer—Sugar keeps a restaurant four doors off—I heard that it is a gambling club—I never was there.
ROBERT COHEN . I live in the same house with the prisoner, 4, Fieldgate Street—on 12th August, a little after 2 a.m., I was at Sugar's restaurant, No. 5; that is the fifth door from the Black Horse—I was going to bed—my wife told me something—I looked into my own yard—I heard the sound "Hush"—I went down to Sugar, and we went to the yard with three or four others—we got a lamp, but found nobody—they went into their houses, and I went into mine, and as I was fastening the kitchen door I saw the prisoner in my kitchen—he said "What's up here?"—I said "I have heard some one in the yard"—he said "No one has been here; you are making a mistake; who is to come here?"—he walked upstairs with me, and said "Don't take any notice; there is no one there; you go to bed"—I said "I am certain I heard some one in the yard"—he said "Take no notice; they are going into the public-house"—I shut my door, turned the key round, put the lamp on the table, and walked to Sugar's place next door, further from the public-house—I told Sugar that they were going to rob the public-house—he said "Let us call Mr. Driscoll up," and three of us went to the Black Horse—the door was open, and I almost fell in—I called out "What is up here?"—no reply was made—I rang the bell, and the prisoner put his head out from behind the bar—I had left him in my house eight or nine minutes before; I don't know how he got out—he rushed out and
said "For God's sake let me go; I am a lost man"—I said "No, we can't let you go"—Sugar and I held him—I rang the bell—he threw Sugar on his knees, and ran into Plummer Row—I ran after him, calling "Stop thief!"—a constable caught him, and he was brought back—he said to me "Do you think I could do such a thing? what do you want to hold me for? why don't you let me go?"
Cross-examined. He is a lodger of mine—I have given them notice to quit—we are all Polish Jews, and he and his parents—I have been good friends with the lot of them—he was entitled to go into my yard—this was at 2 a.m.—I was up and dressed, and Sugar was dressed—I have played at cards at Sugar's house, but only for a cigar or a cigarette—I understood that the public-house was being broken into, but said nothing—I did not call the police; I went to call the landlord up—it was eight or nine minutes before Sugar and I came back—there was a small light in the bar—the prisoner had no boots on, only stockings.
LUOIS SUGAR . I live at 5, Fieldgate Street, Whitechapel—on 12th August, about 2 a.m., Cohen called me up, and we went to the Black Horse—my brother was with us—the door was open—we stood by the door and saw the prisoner behind the bar—he said "For God's sake let me go"—we sent for a constable, and the prisoner ran out—I ran after him, and he was caught.
Cross-examined. I live in the second house; that is not a club; they do not play at cards there; it is a restaurant—it is the same as a public-house, and when public-houses close I close my place—Cohen comes there a good deal—there has never been any complaint about my house—I never heard that the police have complained of it—I have been in trouble, and have had 18 months.
CYRIL FLACK (Policeman H 398). On 11th August, about 2 a.m., I heard a shout, and saw the prisoner running without any hat or boots—I caught him in Yetford Street, and asked what was the matter—he said "Come on, there he goes, there is something wrong"—I said "There is no one running in front of you"—Cohen came up and said "He has broken into the Black Horse public-house"—I took him there; a constable was standing at the door—the landlord came down—I gave the prisoner in charge of another constable and went into the kitchen and saw the fanlight grazed and a lot of dust knocked down—there is a wall outside leading to the house where the prisoner lived—there was a mark on the wall and on the water closet, six distinct footprints, as if somebody had been there in their stockings without boots.
Cross-examined. I know Sugar, he has a place called a restaurant—it is not known as a gambling club to my knowledge, nor have complaints been made of it to my knowledge.
Witnesses for the Defence.
PHILIP ERNBERG (Interpreted). I lived in the same room with the prisoner and slept in the same bed with him on the night of the arrest—I heard a cry of "Stop thief" in the street and roused him; he put on his trousers and jacket, but no hat or boots, and went into the street—I went out five minutes afterwards—he was asleep from 12 o'clock till I awoke him.
with the other lodgers, my son went into the street and two other lodgers went out after him.
SAMUEL GRUNE (Interpreted). I was sleeping in the same room as the prisoner; I was awoke by the other witness, who was sleeping in the same bed with the prisoner, and heard a call of "Stop thief"—I went down—the prisoner was the first who went into the street, and I followed him almost immediately.
MORRIS LISTMAN (Interpreted). I lived in the same house with the prisoner and in the next house to Sugar, they were keeping up very late, and making a noise, because it is a gaming house—I heard a call of "Stop thief," after that I heard them run down into the street—I saw the prisoner running with a lot of others, and saw him taken and brought into the public-house—the prisoner and the others live on the second floor, and I live on the first floor.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is my father-in-law—I come from Ingobern in Poland; I have not been in trouble there.
CYRIL FLACK (Re-examined by the COURT). I saw the prisoner run out of Plummer Row, which leads out of Fieldgate Street at right angles—he came from Fieldgate Street into Plummer Row, and ran through it till he came to me—I heard a cry of "Stop thief" about two seconds before I saw the prisoner—I stopped him, and people came up immediately—I heard no cry before that.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on 7th February, 1887, of housebreaking.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BLACKWELL, JUN., Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am a potman, living at 2, Dyott Street, Bloomsbury—on 11th August I was at the Coach and Horses, Strand, and left at 12.30, soon after the house was cleared—when I got to Shortt's Gardens I came across some young men, and the prisoner attacked me with a stick, and dealt me two blows—I got away, but I either stumbled or was knocked down, and the prisoner held my head down while others took my watch and chain—one of them said "I have got it," and then they ran away—I got up and went to the corner of Broad Street, and reported it to the policeman on duty, who took me to Charing Cross Hospital—I afterwards picked the prisoner out from a number of others, and know he is the man.
Cross-examined. It was a sudden attack—I saw a man named Crawley at the police-court, and said I was certain he was the man who took my watch, and I know he was, but he was discharged, as two ladies at Brighton swore that he was sleeping at the house of one of them—I have made no mistake, but Sir James Ingham differed from me—I picked Crawley out from other men, and Smith also—I don't believe one of the men had whiskers; there were some with moustaches—I don't know that some of them were policemen in plain clothes—I am quite as certain
that the prisoner was one as I was about Crawley—I am certain Crawley was the one who took my watch.
GEORGE WYGER (Police Sergeant E). On 13th August I saw the prisoner in the Grapes public-house, Seven Dials—I told him I was going to take him for being concerned with other men in violently assaulting and robbing a man last Saturday morning in Endell Street—he said "I am innocent"—on the way to the station he said "I was not there; I heard about it yesterday"—he was placed with other men at the station—he refused to stand with them, and I got a second lot, and when they came in he asked to be allowed to change his coat—I said "You cannot"—Taylor came in, and touched him and said "That is the man"—he said nothing to that—he made no answer to the charge.
Cross-examined. Going to the station he said that he was not there, and was innocent—the first lot of men were not younger than he, but they were shorter—none of them had whiskers—I don't remember saying "I cannot shave them to oblige you"—I don't believe one of them was a policeman.
Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE DAVIS . I am the prisoner's father-in-law, and live at 27, Berwick Street—my daughter lives with him at Devonshire Street, Theobald's Road—I gave evidence at the police-court—I attend Bullock's sale rooms, Holborn, on Saturdays throughout the year—on 10th August I saw the prisoner at his house, 11 Devonshire Street—I went there to see if he could give me 4s., which I wanted to borrow to go to Bullock's sale next morning—I went there at 8.30, but he was not at home—I stayed there till he came in at 11, and I stopped with him and his wife till 1—on the Tuesday afterwards my daughter came and told me he was locked up.
Cross-examined. I know that I stopped till 1 o'clock, because I looked at the clock on the landing and thought I ought to be at home—I have talked this matter over with my daughter, and she suggested that it was that night, and I said that it was impossible for him to be in such a place, because I was with him from 11 to 1.5 o'clock—I do not know at what time the robbery took place, and yet I say that it was impossible for him to be there.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. YOUNG Prosecuted.
JOHN DARVILLE . I live at 12, Wellclose Square—on August 23rd, about 11 p.m., I was in Cable Street, and was surrounded by some men and women who threw me down on the pavement—I saw the prisoner among them—they ransacked my pockets and kicked me so badly that I have not been able to do any work since—when I got up a constable had the prisoner in custody and a man named Perry.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You are the one who kicked me, and
you struck me in my face when I was getting up, and knocked me down a second time.
HENRY WINDEBANK (Policeman H 402). I was in Cable Street and heard cries of "Police," and saw the prisoner and another man running away; I caught him and had a tussle with him, and going to the station a man tried to get him away—he struck me on my chest after I had him in custody—when he was charged he said "I was not there."
GUILTY .†— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted.
MARIANO RINALDI . I live at St. George's in the East—on August 7th I was in North-East Passage, Wellclose Square, about 3 p.m.—all at once I found two hands on my face so that I could not see, and I was seized from behind, kicked and knocked down, and I felt that my watch was gone—the hands were then taken from my face, and I saw the prisoner Lee; he ran away, but I caught him by his coat, he gave a couple of pulls and got away; I have no doubt he is the man—I got up as fast as I could and ran, calling "Stop thief"—I left my hat on the ground—I saw three men running, Lee was the last—I saw a policeman take him—I had not lost sight of him—Horrigan was one of the gang, they ran away together—I picked him out on the 13th at Arbour Square.
MALCOLM McNEAL . I live at 114, Wellclose Square—on August 7th, at 3 p.m., I was standing at my door, and saw three men running and Rinaldi running after them shouting "Stop thief!"—I ran and kept my eyes on Lee, and saw the police take him—Horrigan is one of the three who ran away.
Cross-examined by HORRIGAN. You live in the alley, you are one of the gang.
FRANCIS ENRIGHT (Policeman). I was standing at the police-court on 15th August and spoke to Dale and the prosecutor—from what they said I crossed over to where Horrigan was standing and said that I should take him for assaulting and robbing the prosecutor—he said "All right, I know all about it"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by Horrigan. You did not say "I know all about it, because the other prisoner told me."
Lee's Defence. I was walking along and the constable took me. Nothing was found on me. I know nothing about it.
TIMOTHY DRISCOLL . I live with my mother at 7, North East Passage—Horrigan lives at the same place—on Tuesday, 7th August, I was sitting on a chair in the afternoon, after doing a bit of work in the docks, and saw a very stout gentleman coming down Ratcliff Highway who I
knew by sight; it was the prosecutor—I saw Lee go behind him and seize him round his body, and two of his companions came up and robbed him of his watch and chain and ran away—I have not seen them since—Horrigan was not one of them—I went to the prosecutor's house and said "I will go with you to the station"—I did so the same evening, but the inspector said that I was drunk and would not take my evidence—only Lee was in custody then—I did not go before the Magistrate on the day they were examined—Lee is the man, but Horrigan is not the man—I know the other two, but I have not seen them since.
Cross-examined. I do not know their names—I had left the docks about 2 o'clock; we leave according to the tide—I was not drunk—the other two men went away too fast for me to give them in custody.
MICHEL FITZGERALD . I live at 2, South Eastern Passage, which is a chandler's shop—on Tuesday afternoon, August 7th, I was in the shop with the landlord—an alarm was given and we went to the door and saw a crowd, and I can swear that I did not see Horrigan or Lee among them; I saw plenty of chaps, and women and children.
LEE— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at the Thames Police-court on 14th may, 1888.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
HORRIGAN— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, September 25th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
875. MICHAEL CONNOR (24) and SIDNEY HAWKINS (25) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Charles Halstrom, and stealing two coats, the property of Henry Burnham, and carpenter's tools, the property of Charles Halstrom.
MR. BUCK Prosecuted.
HENRY BURNHAM . I am in the service of Charles Halstrom, a cabinetmaker, of 2 and 4, Phipps Street, Curtain Road—on 7th July, about 2.30 o'clock, his warehouse was locked up in my presence—there was considerable property there, among other things thirty saws (only four were recovered), two coats of mine, and a large quantity of cabinetmaker's tools—there was a safe there—when I went to work on Monday, at 8.30 o'clock, I found the plate of the safe was broken off that covers up the escutcheon hole, and the door had been opened—I missed fourteen planes, fifteen bits, three sticks, thirty saws, and one plough—I do not think one man could carry away all those things—the coats were taken from the office and the tools from the workmen's benches—there are about nine rooms, and the office is in the warehouse on the ground floor—the keys were missing from on the desk in the office where I had left them on the Saturday—to get into the premises they must have got over a wall about 8 feet high at the back, and forced the shutter and broken the plate glass, and then undone the door from the inside.
JAMES THOMAS WILKINS . I am a butcher, of Whitecross Street—on Wednesday, 18th July, I bought one of these saws of Connor—he had been serving me with sawdust for two or three years—he brought me a sack, and while he was there my little boy dropped a saw and broke it—the prisoner said "I have got a little saw I will sell you"—I said "What sort?"—he said "Something like the one you have got broke
there"—I said "Very well"—he said he would bring it to-morrow—he did so—I said "It is no use to me"—I chucked it underneath the board and gave him 9d. and a glass of beer and an order for two sacks of sawdust—I never knew him deal in anything but sawdust.
JOHN SCOTT (Police Sergeant G). On the morning of 24th July, I took Connor into custody at 2, Rodney Buildings, Hoxton Market—I found this black coat hanging in his room—I found him in a bed made up on the floor with the woman Casey—I said "Is your name Mike Connor?" he said "No, my name is Roach"—I said "We are police officers; we are going to take you into custody for stealing a coat and a large quantity of carpenters' tools from a warehouse, No. 2, Phipps Street, between the 7th and the 9th"—when I found the coat hanging behind the door, the prisoner said "That coat was given to me by a bloke, a man that did work at Hare's," a well-known furniture warehouse in Great Eastern Street—I said "What is his name?"—he said "Now you have done me; Polly will show you where he lives; I was with a watchman on the wine stores on the Saturday night up till 2 o'clock on the Sunday morning"—after taking the prisoner to the station I went with Casey to a common lodging-house in Nichol Street to try and find the man, but could not—she did not take me to any man, she went away then and I went after Hawkins.
CHARLES SMITH (Police Sergeant P 16). On Sunday, 22nd July, I found Hawkins at an unoccupied house in Walworth—he was wearing this light coat—I took him into custody on another charge; he was rearrested after that was disposed of; I found some keys on the exact spot where I arrested him; shortly after the other charge was taken—Burnham has identified the keys.
ALFRED GOOLE (Police Sergeant G). At Southwark Police-court, on Monday, 13th July, I saw Morgan Driscoll with this light dust-coat in his possession—that was the one Hawkins was wearing on the 22nd—in Hawkins's presence he said Hawkins had given him this coat about an hour ago in the cells—Hawkins said "I did; I did not steal it though, but I know who did"—I arrested Hawkins at Southwark and took him to Hoxton, where he was charged; he made no answer.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Connor says: "I am innocent." Hawkins says: "It is perfectly true what Mrs. Casey said, every word of it. I plead guilty to this charge, and Connor is innocent."
Witness for the defence of Connor.
MARY ANN CASEY . I am married, but I have been living with Connor for the last seven years; my husband is in a lunatic asylum—I live at 2, Rodney Buildings, Hoxton Market—I was present at the Kingsland Road Station and at Worship Street Police-court when Hawkins acknowledged giving Connor the coat and saw.
Hawkins. If you ask me the question I will not deny it. It is perfectly true what the witness says.
Cross-examined. I was with Connor when he was arrested—I have only been acquainted with this warehouse since this happened—I said "The very day of this affair, I think about three or four weeks back, Hawkins came and gave me and Connor drink; Hawkins took Connor out with him, and when I came back Connor was drunk"—that is quite right; Hawkins had a new hat on; I said "You have been buying
something;" he said "Yes"—I found Connor at home before me—I said "And Connor said Sid, meaning Hawkins, had given him a coat and a saw," that is quite right—I said that at the police-station, and Hawkins acknowledged it and said "I did give it," in front of three gentlemen—between the 7th and 9th Connor was in and out of our lodgings—it was Monday night that he went out with Hawkins and came home drunk with the coat and saw—since I have lived with Connor I have had occasion to look on the streets for my living.
Witness for Hawkins.
MARGARET REVEL . I am single, and live at 74, Crampton Street, Newington Butts—I was general servant to Mrs. Burr, of 74, Handland Street, Clapham—I have known you six months, you are a cabinet maker—you were not absent from home on this night—I live with you as your wife.
Cross-examined. He worked with his father, a cabinet maker in Curtain Road—he was in work in July—I do not know Connor or Mrs. Casey—I cohabited with the prisoner three months, being at my mother's all day when he was at work, and sleeping with him.
Connor in his defence stated that Hawkins gave him the coat and saw.
Hawkins said that he bought the saws and coat from a man he met in a public-house, not knowing they were stolen, and that he gave a coat and saw to Connor, who knew no more about them than he himself did.
CONNOR— NOT GUILTY . HAWKINS— GUILTY .— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HARMSWORTH Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. KEELING Prosecuted.
EMILY DOBBS . I live at 33, Dillon Street, Fulham—I am the wife of Alfred Henry Dobbs—the defendant lodged with me at Holly House, Acton Hill—three or four months ago she gave me this ticket (of a jacket pawned with Thomas Reed on 5th May by James Gibson)—she owed me one guinea rent—she wanted to sell it, and then to leave it with me till she could pay some rent—at Christmas, 1887, she had given me a ticket in the same way for a shawl for a week's rent—three months ago I removed to Fulham—I did not get any money—on 13th August I took the ticket to the pawnbroker—he told me something—then I went to the Court on 16th August, and took the tickets to the prisoner—I asked her if she had got the pawn-tickets, and she tore them out of my hand—she would not listen to me—I told her I had been to the pawnbroker's and to the police-station, and should go again—she threw herself in a passion, and I could not get anything out.
GEORGE CLOUD . I am assistant to Mr. Thomas Reed, of 5, Brewery Terrace, High Street, Acton—on 14th July the prisoner came and said she had lost two tickets, and she wanted to make two affidavits—I gave
her the declaration papers, which she took away, and brought back in the state they now are.
GEORGE WHITLOCK (Police Sergeant T). On 24th August I served the defendant with a summons—I read it to her—she said "I gave the ticket to Mrs. Dobbs to get the things out on Saturday; my son fell out of work; I was unable to give her the money, and she kept the tickets, and I tried to find her, but could not."
Witness for the Defence.
Cross-examined. I remember my mother giving Mrs. Dobbs that ticket three or four months ago, not for rent, but as security—mother told her to mind them for her; she has never had them back.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
LILLY DARLOW . I am a widow, of 25, Saxon Road, Old Ford—on 11th July I went to bed at 11.30—everything was secure, the doors being bolted and locked—next morning at 6.40 I went downstairs, and found everything in confusion, and the kitchen window and shutters were open, and things from the dining-room removed into the kitchen ready to be taken, including a large table-cover—the clock had stopped at 4.50—I missed a violin, bow, and case, and other articles to the value of 5l.—this is the violin and case; I made the pad myself.
SYDNEY TAYLOR . I am assistant to James Russell, pawnbroker, of Shoreditch—I produce this violin, bow and case pledged with me on 18th July about 3 o'clock; it was brought at 12 o'clock at first and taken away—I asked the man where he got the fiddle, and whether he had a receipt—he said "People don't generally carry receipts about with them; the violin cost 40l."—it would not cost 40s.—I lent him 15s.—the address on the ticket is "Kesler, 4, Castle Street, Houndsditch."
EUGENE BRADSHAW (Police Sergeant K). On 20th July the prisoner came to me at Bow Police-station—I knew him—he said "I have come to give you information respecting a job done some time ago at Old Ford and some other little jobs; I have been treated very shabbily by my pals, and I want to be even with them"—I told him if he wanted to give me information he could see me in the morning or at 6 o'clock in the evening—the following day he met me in the Bow Road—he said "Regarding the affair in Old Ford," meaning the burglary, "I find it was committed in Saxon Road, Old Ford," and he asked me whether a fiddle had been stolen therefrom—I said "Yes"—he said "I will tell you where it was pledged, at Russell's, the top of Commercial Street, in the name of Kesler, for 15s., and the address given is '4, Castle Street, Houndsditch'"—he said he had seen the ducate (duplicate)—on the Monday I saw him again, he referred to another case—then he said "Regarding the affair in Old Ford, you know they could not sling the fiddle," meaning they could not pledge it, "so I did it for them, and only received 2s. for my share, but I will be even with them yet."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have known you seven or eight years.
GEORGE MELLUISH (Detective Sergeant K). I took the prisoner into custody on 30th July about 9.15—I said "Your name is Harcourt?"—he said "Yes, it is"—I said "I am a police officer, and arrest you for being concerned in the burglary at 25, Saxon Road, Old Ford"—he said "I know nothing about it"—I added "And stealing a violin, bow, and case, and other articles therefrom"—he turned and walked towards the station—shortly afterwards he said "This comes of mixing with crooked people; I own I pledged the violin and case; I told Sergeant Bradshaw about it a fortnight ago; if you had only been here three minutes ago you would have seen the three men who did it; I did not know it was stolen, I only guessed it; can you tell me what other things were stolen?"—I said "I will read you the list at the station"—at that time we reached the station—I told him the charge again, and read the list to him—he said "I own I pledged the violin and case; I know nothing about the other things"—the pawnbroker attended at the station the following morning, and failed to identify the prisoner from other men—he was then charged, and said "I do not know where Saxon Road is; I own I pledged the violin and case; I know nothing of the other goods, or I should tell you."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have lost all my friends through drink, and have got into bad company; I admit all that has been said."
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 26th, 1888.
Before Mr. Recorder.
WILLIAM HARRIS . I am a pork butcher and wholesale sausage maker, 3, St. John Street, Smithfield—I have a large number of shops in various parts of London—on July 26th, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, I was with a friend in the Hope Tavern, Cowcross Street—after being there a little time I noticed the prisoner in an opposite compartment—he said "Mr. Harris, will you please come round here and speak to us?" I said "I am engaged," I believe there were three other persons in the compartment with him—he repeated the request to come round three or four times, and each time I made him a similar answer; on leaving the house shortly after I parted with my friend at the door—after parting with him the prisoner came up to me—he said "Mr. Harris, you refused to speak to me just now, I will make you speak to me; I will make you keep me; I am broke, you salesmen, mentioning the names of two or three, have plenty of money"—he produced some papers and said "I have sent bad meat to market, these return notes or bills, are proof, and you have purchased it, and unless you give me the money I want, I will expose you"—he also said that he would get
a Parliamentary Commission of Inquiry into what quality of meat was sold, and that he would be well paid for his services, unless we salesmen made it worth his while not to proceed in the matter; he described me as a salesman, which is perfectly inaccurate; I am not a salesman—this demand of his frightened me—a charge of this kind might take 10l., 20l., or 50l. off the value of my business—it would not ruin a man of my perseverance, but it might take that off and it would seriously injure me—I examine the meat before I buy it—there is no truth whatever in the allegation that I have ever bought bad meat—I have looked at the bills which the prisoner produced; I never bought any of the meat referred to in those bills—I called a constable instantly and gave the prisoner in charge—I do not know the prisoner and never had any dealings with him of any kind.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Mr. Hall was in the public-house with you, some few yards off—he was smiling; I was not laughing—I have bought meat of Mr. Williams—I am not aware that he deals in Croaker meat—there are market-inspectors who look well after that matter—I did not know that you were going to get a Commission of Inquiry about the traffic in diseased meat; I knew nothing of you one minute before this—I have about twenty shops—I was in the Hope Tavern discussing important business this afternoon—I did not say "What do you want poor old Jim Williams for?"—I did not say that he would knock you down with his stick if you spoke against him—I did not make sneering remarks to you about your not sending meat to the market—I know nothing about the meat you sent—you asserted that you could make me keep you; what the precise amount it would require to keep such a person as you I have yet to learn.
ALEXANDER CREIGHTON (Policeman G 317). On 26th July, between 5 and 6 p.m., I was on duty in Cowcross Street—the prosecutor called me and gave the prisoner in charge for attempting to extort money—the prisoner heard that and he said "I did not ask him for money"—I took him to the station, searched him, and found on him these three bills—when the charge was read over to him he said that he intended writing to the papers to let the public know the bad meat Mr. Harris bought and made up into sausages.
Cross-examined. When Mr. Harris came to me I believe you followed him up—you did not seem like running away—you said you did not ask him for any money—you said I had no right to take you into custody—I said Mr. Harris would have to be answerable for that—I saw a gentleman in a white market-coat standing near while we were talking—I did not notice whether he was laughing—you said you would publish concerning the bad meat—you mentioned Mr. Harris' name—it is not true that Mr. Hall was hustled out of the station.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was in the public-house with a gentleman named Hall, a butcher at Hackney. We had a drink or two, and I nodded to Mr. Harris, who was over the other side. We stopped there some time after the market closed. When Mr. Harris went outside me and Mr. Hall followed out a minute later. Mr. Harris was standing on the pavement. We had a few words concerning meat, and that brought up an argument about a man named Williams. I said a lot of filthy muck was sold as meat. Mr. Harris said 'What do you want to hurt old Jim Williams for?' I said 'I have seen you have meat out of
there with skin over it, and I intend writing to the papers, so that there shall be an inquiry into it.' Harris then said if he could not have me any other way, he would lock me up for attempting to extort money."
Witness for the Defence.
GEORGE HALL . I am a butcher, of 289, Wick Road, South Hackney—I know the prisoner—I saw him on 26th July, and was with him at the Hope Tavern—I and another buyer were having a few words there—we then came outside—I did not hear what passed between him and Mr. Harris; I was 5 or 6 yards away—I saw Mr. Harris give him in charge, but I knew nothing at all about what it was for.
Prisoner's Defence. I never asked Mr. Harris for any money or anything else. This prosecution is nothing but spite and fear, because they cannot get me to hold my tongue, and they are afraid if I get a Commission of what I shall be able to prove against them. It was a well-known fact for some days previously to my being given into custody that I intended to get a Commission to inquire into the bad meat. What I was intending to do was for the benefit of the poor people in London; it was for no pecuniary benefit to myself. I have lost 100l. already on the transaction, and I have had eight weeks' imprisonment waiting for my trial. I have been in business for myself for the last eight or nine years; I have had shops in Hoxton and Dartford, and have been entrusted with large sums by the county authorities. I have likewise bought and sent a great deal of meat to market. My only object has been to get inquiries to stop the traffic in diseased and bad meat.
GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. YOUNG Prosecuted; MR. MUIR Defended.
GUILTY of indecent assault. — Three Months' without Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 26th, 1888.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.
JOHN ALLUM . I live at 2, Elm Terrace, Cambridge Heath—I remember the prisoner being married to my aunt, Emma Bell Gervan, on 10th October, 1858, at St. Jude's Church, Whitechapel—she is still alive—they lived together some time, and in 1869 I was called up a few nights to stop the prisoner knocking her about—I did not live in the same street.
Cross-examined. I have no rent books by which I can fix the date; I depend on my memory—he began knocking her about 12 months after they were married, but it was years after that I was called upon to protect her—my little boy was three years old then, and now he is 22—I did not see much of my aunt after they moved, and I lost sight of her.
Cross-examined. I did not give him in charge—I have eleven children
by him, and have lived with him up to now—this charge has been brought against him owing to a little difference I had with him—it was mentioned to a Magistrate, and the first wife came forward and said that he was her husband—the Magistrate then made an order upon him to give me alimony, but we settled our difference in Court, and I went home and lived with him.
By the COURT. He always treated me kindly, except when he had a little to drink, and his illness makes him irritable—he is a good father.—(MR. PURCELL stated that the first wife was married at the time she married the prisoner, but being so long ago the witnesses could not be found.)
GEORGE MELLISH (Police Sergeant K). I took the prisoner on 28th August—I found the certificate of his marriage in 1858 from Somerset House—I told him he would be charged with commiting a bigamous marriage with Sarah Lee—he said, "It is now several years ago since I married her, and I can prove that she has had two husbands since."
NOT GUILTY .
DOUGLAS SMITH (Policeman 387). On 28th July, at 3.30 a.m., I was on duty near Cottage Grove, Mile End—I heard a police whistle, and Conybeare, a constable, spoke to me—I ran into Morgan Street, blew my whistle, and got the help of No. 508—I directed him to two or three low walls in Tredegar Square, and heard some one running down Cottage Grove, and I saw the prisoner inside the palisading—he turned between Nos. 21 and 22, where I confronted him—he got over between the two houses—I chased him over five or six walls 7 feet high, and he suddenly disappeared—I lifted the lid of a dustbin at 18, Cottage Grove, and there I saw the prisoner—he at once raised his hands as in prayer form, and said, "For God's sake don't hurt me; I will surrender; we only came after fowls, and the other two men have got away"—I took him to the station, and found on him an angling iron, and a lot of iron and string for opening windows, and three keys—he said, "Those are the keys I open fowl-house doors with, but the men who got away had 50 keys with them"—I found on him a silver watch and chain, 10s. in silver, and 3d.
WALTER PAXMAN . I am 14 years old, and live at 46, Tredegar Square—on 28th July, at 10 or 11 a.m., I went into the garden, and on a heap of mould at the back of No. 47 I found this bag with some feathers sticking out—I fetched a policeman, who found in it six fowls and five pigeons dead.
CHARLES HANLY (Policeman 375 K). The last witness fetched me to 47, Tredegar Square, where I found this bag with six fowls and five pigeons dead in it—I told Mrs. Fisher, whose servant identified them.
ALICE DONOVAN . I am servant to Rev. John Fisher—on 27th July, at 5.30, I left the fowl-house safe with six fowls and five pigeons in it—it was not locked—I missed them next morning, and identified them at the station—our garden is at the back of Tredegar Square.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said
he did not go there to steal the fowls, but to buy them, and that he was taken there by two men named Grey and Low; that a gentleman had bailiffs in his house, and wanted to sell his fowls, and they asked him to carry the keys.
GUILTY .**— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. KETTLE Prosecuted.
HENRY WILLIAMS . I am a seaman—I arrived at Millwall Docks in the steamship Regina a fortnight ago, and between 10 and 11 that night I was passing a public-house, and Davis and another woman asked me for some drink—I treated them, and they asked me for more money to get drink to take to their house—I paid 1s. 2d. for drink for them, which was loose in my pocket—I went home with them, and Davis asked how much I was going to give her—I said "10s.," and took out a sovereign, held it out, and asked her to give me 10s. back, but she struck me on my right eye, and directly the man hauled me by my throat, and waved a sword three times over my head—I found a hand in my pocket, and ran out and met a gentleman, who showed me a policeman, who went with me to the door, and said to Schlemar "Did you strike this man?"—Schlemar made a stroke at me before the constable, who said "I believe you did; I will take you in custody"—I then pointed out Davis—I was neither drunk nor sober, but sober enough to know that I did not knock myself at all.
Cross-examined by Schlemar. I did not go to your house when you were at supper and say "How are you getting on?" nor did you say "The mistress has gone out with a young woman"—you did not tell me three or four times to go away and not make a disturbance—I did not knock your mistress about.
By the JURY. The other woman went with us into the house; she did nothing to me, but when I was bleeding from my eye I could not see who took the money from me—my eye was swollen for a week.
Cross-examined by Davis. I had never been to Schlemar's house before—I gave him in custody for robbing me of 2l.
ROBERT NEWSTEAD . I keep the Queen Catherine public-house, Brook Street, Ratcliff—I saw the prosecutor with Davis and another woman in my house at 10 minutes or a quarter to 12—the women had a drink each, at his expense—they left together, and took some drink away in a jug, which he paid 1s. 2d. for—he went outside with them with the drink and came in again, and they had a glass of ale each, which he paid for, and gave the other woman 2d., which he had borrowed—she was Mrs. Schlemar, the male prisoner's wife—they all three left together—they seemed sober—Williams had no mark on his face when he left.
Cross-examined by Davis. I have lent you 5s. twice when your half-pay was not due, which you repaid me; you are a customer.
GEORGE BALL (Policeman H 345). Early on October 1st I met Williams about 200 yards from Schlemar's house; he complained to me and I went to 13, Brunswick Place, Ratcliff—he said "This is the house"—I knocked at the door and Schlemar opened it—Williams said "That is the man"—I said "This man accuses you of robbing and assaulting him with a female, I shall take you in custody"—he said "Good God," and made a blow at the prosecutor, but I prevented him from striking
him—on the way to the station he knocked at the next door, which is Davis's house—she came out with Schlemar's wife and followed to the station, where Williams was, who said "That is the woman who assaulted me and robbed me in the house"—she was put in the dock and charged—when the charge was read she said "He does not accuse me of robbing him"—I went back to the house and found this sword (produced) in the room where it occurred—Williams was the worse for drink, but he perfectly understood what he was doing—the prisoners were both sober.
Cross-examined by Schlemar. You keep the house No. 13, which is a brothel, and so is No. 15, where Davis lives—I believe the other woman to be your wife.
Schlemar, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that Williams came to his house and said that he had been there 18 months before; that he made a disturbance, and then went next door and did the same, and hearing his wife scream he (Schlemar) took a sword and went there and said "If you don't go you will see what I will do;" that Williams then left, and came back and gave him in charge.
Witness for Schlemar.
ELIZABETH FOWLER . I am parted from my husband—I know Schlemar, he goes to sea, and had only been home a fortnight—Williams had been in the house before, and I am the young woman he stayed with, and he gave me a half-sovereign—I was out on this night.
Cross-examined. I am a cigar maker—Williams had been to sea, and came with the intention of seeing me, because I am the woman he asked for—it is 16 or 18 months since he was with me before—he stayed with me one night and came back the next evening—the last cigar making I did was a few months ago, but I have good friends; Mr. Herman, of 47, Sidney Street, will tell you what he does for me every week—I met Williams in the Commercial Road, and we had a drink in the Crown public-house; he came home and did not leave till the next morning; he then went away, and when he came back he inquired about me.
Cross-examined by Schlemar. I did not say "Where is Lizzie?" or give you sixpence to go to her mother's for her.
Cross-examined by Davis. I did not ask you to go and see if you could find the young woman for me—I did not come with the express intention of seeing her.
Davis, in her defence, proposed to call Mrs. Schlemar to prove that the prosecutor came and inquired for Lizzie. She stated that the marks he had on him were produced by his own violence; she denied ever seeing the sovereign. The COMMON SERJEANT declined to receive Mrs. Schlemar's evidence on behalf of Davis, as it might tend remotely to affect Schlemar.
GUILTY of assault with intent to rob. — Nine Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. TICKELL Prosecuted.
September he stabbed me between my eyes, and broke my arm with a kick, and broke my home up and ran away—I went next day to Poplar Hospital, and on returning I met him, about 2.30, in Victoria Dock Road—he asked me for some pawn-tickets for shirts of his; I refused to give them to him, and he said "Come close and I will stick a knife right through you"—the police came and he went off—he was sober—on the night of September 6th I met him in the East India Dock Road, he asked me to take him home; I refused, and said "I have had enough of you"—the house is mine—he struck me on the side of my face and knocked me down—I screamed "Murder! Police!" and lost my senses; a doctor at the station dressed my head, it was bleeding—I was sober on both occasions.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you go to the cupboard and get a knife, and you stabbed me between my eyes—I saw it in your hand; I have not brought it here; you made away with it; I never saw it again—it is not the first time you have stabbed me—you broke the tables and chairs; you only left two—you broke my other home up in the same way.
By the COURT. The prisoner did not support me—I am an unfortunate—Rodaman is a little girl who I have to run errands.
EMILY RODAMAN . I live at 33, Agate Street, Canning Town—on Monday night, September 3, I saw the prisoner in the street punching Fanny Coughlin's head—he had hold of her fringe and pulled it down, and was hitting her underneath—he had a bread knife in his hand; she was bleeding from the bridge of her nose very badly; her apron, which was used in the street, and two handkerchiefs and two towels were covered with blood—I saw him kick her arm—I live at the same house with her, and he tore my clothes up which were hanging on a line when he broke the things—before he left the house he went to a cupboard an took out a bread knife.
Cross-examined. She did not kick the table over—some of this happened in the house and some in the street.
By the COURT. Coughlin broke two or three things off the mantelpiece, when he hit her and knocked her down.
JOHN WHITTOCK (Policeman). On 6th September, about 12.50, I was in the East India Dock Road, and heard a shout of "Police!" and "Murder!"—I saw two persons under the dock wall; the prisoner was one; he was making away—the prosecutrix was lying on the pavement—I called Constable 75 K to her, and caught the prisoner 50 yards off—I got in front of him, and he said "I have only knocked her down"—I took him back, and found the prosecutrix being helped up and bleeding from a small cut over her right eye, and a cut in the side of her head—both her eyes were black—she pointed to the prisoner, and said "He has knocked me down; I want you to take him in custody; I will charge him"—I took hold of his arm—he said "Don't take hold of me"—I asked the other constable to hold his other arm—he was charged at the station with assault, and made no reply—the doctor dressed her head; they were both sober.
did not examine it, as she had been seen by another doctor—the injury to her arm might have been done by a kick three or four days before.
Cross-examined. She had the use of her arm then.
GEORGE ANDERSON , M.R.C.S. I live at 171, East India Road—on 6th September, at 1.30 a.m., I examined the prosecutrix—she had a contused lacerated wound on the right side of her head—it was bleeding, and was quite recent—it was three-quarters of an inch long and about one-eighth of an inch deep—it did not penetrate to the bone—it would require some force—I do not think a fist would do it; some hard substance must have been used, or a fall on the head.
Cross-examined. It is not my opinion that it was done with a knife—she had a black eye.
Prisoner's Defence. She was fighting with a woman downstairs—I told her to come up, and she flew to the mantelpiece and knocked the things off, and said she had another man coming home from sea. She got on the bed, and her head came in contact with the iron bedstead. She ran downstairs for a policeman, and her nose came in contact with the window-sill. I afterwards met her, and asked her for my boots and handkerchief, and she called me all the names she could lay her tongue to. I saw her again at night in the East India Dock Road, and gave her a smack on her face, and her head came in contact with a corner of the wall; that is how it was done. She says that I stabbed her a long while ago, but I never stabbed her before. I was charged with a common assault, and got six weeks for it. I never broke her home up; she did it herself.
GUILTY .**— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
CHARLOTTE DALE . My husband is a dock labourer of 22, Elphick Street, Canning Town—he makes models of ships in his leisure time, and these four models (produced) were in the back yard on 19th August when I went to church at 6.30 p.m.—when I came back they were gone—they are worth 15s.—some one got over the fence and broke down the flowers.
ALICE COMPTON . I live at 26, Canning Town—on Sunday, August 19th, about 9 p.m., I was outside my house, which is ten minutes' walk from the prosecutor's, and saw the prisoner with these ships in his hand—he said, "May I go over there?"—I said, "Yes, certainly, if you live there"—he went over to a house and came back without them—I informed Mrs. Carter, went with her to the out-house, and they were given back to Mrs. Dale—the prisoner came to me next morning—I had not known him before—he asked me for the ships—I told him to go to Mrs. Carter—he said, "I went there with the ships last night, left them there and forgot them."
them at the top of Trinity Street"—I asked him who the boy was—he said he did not know, and should not know him again.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that he bought the models of a boy for 5d.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. WILLIS, Q.C., and MR. FULTON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted; MR. KEELING Defended.
MICHAEL HOWARD . I am a dock labourer, of 17, Montagu Street, Barking—on September 1st, between 11 and 12 p.m., I was having a cup of coffee at a stall in the Victoria Dock Road—the two prisoners got alongside of me, and Andrews struck me two blows on the right side of my face, and then I was stabbed on my right shoulder—I called out "I am stabbed"—the prisoners ran away—my wound was sewn up at the station, and then I was taken to the London Hospital.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the prisoners before—they had no ill-will against me—I have had no trouble with black men—I could tell Andrews from any other man of colour—there was a gaslight where it happened—he struck me with his right hand when he struck me with the knife—four or five people were there—I cannot identify Andrews by any particular feature, but I know he is the man.
CHARLES SHRIMPTON . I live at 12, Agate Street, West Ham—I saw the prisoners in George Street, about midnight, and I saw Andrews strike Howard on the left side of the face, and then he drew a knife and stabbed him on the shoulder—Howard called out "I am stabbed," and the prisoners ran away together—a man stopped Comb, and I saw a knife in his hand—Andrews ran away, but I saw him again at the station.
Cross-examined. I know Comb by his clothes—all stokers are not dressed alike—it was a fine clear night, but it was between 12 and 12.30, and very dark—this was at the corner of Smith Street—I did not see Howard at the coffee stall—there was no row—I saw a knife in Comb's right hand—I saw him draw it—I was about two yards away.
CHARLES MAIDEN . I live at 26, Emsworth Street, Canning Town—I was in George Street, and saw Andrews stab Howard on his shoulder—both prisoners ran away—I ran after Andrews, but he got away—I was close to him when he inflicted the blow, and have no doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined. It was a fine night, but rather dark—black men are not all very much alike—I did not see Howard at the coffee stall—I noticed Howard just before he was stabbed—I did not notice Andrews's
coat or whether he had a hat—a good many people were about—I ran after Comb—I did not see the knife.
JAMES GEORGE SPENCER . I live at 21, Randall Street, Plaistow—on 21st September, about midnight, I was in Victoria Dock Road, and saw the prisoners running towards me, and about fifty people behind them, calling "Stop them"—I said to Andrews "Jack, what is the matter?"—I did not know him, but I thought he was a shipmate of mine—he made no answer—I picked a knife up in the road; I did not see any one drop it, but the prisoners had passed the spot—I followed them about 50 yards, and told Comb to stop, but he did not—he had a knife in his hand and used it in a threatening manner, and I stepped away and then caught hold of him and took him to the station.
Cross-examined. When I got up to Comb I had the knife which I had picked up in my hand, and I said to Comb "Take care, I have got a knife as well as you"—I picked up the sheath as well—I had two belts on and put it between them instead of into the sheath, and when I got to the station I had not got it, it had slipped, and I did not see it again—I picked one knife up and the other I took from Comb.
Re-examined. I drew the knife which I picked up in the road; it was in the sheath when I picked it up—when I drew it I saw a knife in Comb's hand.
GEORGE GODDARD (Policeman). On 2nd September, about 11 p.m., the prisoner Andrews came to the station and said "I have come from the Sailors' Home; I was told a policeman had been there for me. I have come here to see what he wanted me for"—he was taken in custody for stabbing Howard.
HUGH SMITH . I am house-surgeon at the London Hospital—Howard was brought there on 3rd September with a jagged cut on his left shoulder, 2 1/2 or 3 inches long, which had been stitched up—a knife which would fit this sheath would inflict it.
Cross-examined. The knife was rather blunt, which made the wound ragged.
COMB— NOT GUILTY . ANDREWS— GUILTY* of unlawfully wounding. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
The Court ordered 2l. reward to the witness Spencer.
MR. JONES Prosecuted; MR. KEELING Defended.
----TRIM. I am a policeman, and I have been draughtsman to a builder—I prepared this plan; I know the locality—it is correct, and to a scale of 6 inches to a mile—it is enlarged from the Ordnance survey.
THOMAS HARDY . I live at 196, High Holborn, and am warehouse foreman to Mr. Baker, of Half Moon Street, Bishopsgate—it is part of my duty to superintend the loading of vans—the prisoner is foreman to the carmen we employ—on Thursday afternoon, 23rd August, he was so acting, and was driving one of the vans—I superintended the loading of the van with miscellaneous grocery, tea, cocoa, and so on—
among other things was half a chest of tea, to be delivered at Mr. King's, Broad Street, Stratford, and other goods for other customers—I saw the prisoner leave Half Moon Street with the van at 5 p.m.—there was about 35 cwt. of goods in the van—it was a four-wheeled van covered with a tarpaulin on hoops—the tarpaulin went right round all four sides, and was tied down at the back, the front being open—the goods were in boxes, and there were some parcels—there was not room for any one to sit down inside on the boxes, unless the seat was taken away, I think—before he left he said "I ought to have a boy with this load"—I said "There is nobody I can send with you"—occasionally we send a boy; it depends on the load and many things—I next saw the prisoner at 10 the same evening at Half Moon Street, when he came to me and said "I have bad news for you"—I said "What is that?"—he said "I have lost the horse and van"—I said "Have you delivered all the goods?"—he said "No, only half a chest of tea for Mr. King; my horse started away once; I went after it, and brought it back to the door"—I said "Did not you hear it start off again?"—he said "No, I was engaged in receiving Mr. King's money"—that was all that transpired—I took him to Mr. Baker's house—on the way he said it was a serious loss for Mr. Baker, and it looked rather serious against him, as he was under notice to leave—he was under notice—we saw Mr. Baker, who asked the prisoner if he had any one in the van—he said "No"—Mr. Baker said "Well, you know, Stephens, you have often been seen with men in your van"—he said "That has only been my brother, who occupies a respectable position, and sometimes has half a day off, and comes round with me"—next morning the van was brought to Half Moon Street—I examined it, and missed some of the goods; the heavier ones remained in the van—the value of those missing was 54l. odd—the prisoner said when he lost the van he went to the police-station and reported it.
Cross-examined. I don't think I was asked to give the conversation at the station—he may have said he sometimes took a brother-in-law in the van; I don't know if he has one—I should think there was no room for anybody inside the van—he was quite right in going to King's first—I think he has been acting for us a little over nine months—he has always gone out with a large quantity of valuable goods, which he has delivered.
Re-examined. He has lost a horse and cart before; there were no goods in that—so far as I know he has always delivered the goods all right—I do not know if he went to King's first; he ought to have done so—the van seat shifts about and can be put inside or out; if it were moved there would be room inside—when the prisoner started it was outside.
JAMES KING . I am a grocer of Broad Street, Stratford—on Thursday, 23rd August, the prisoner came to my shop with a van about 7 o'clock—he delivered a half-chest of tea and put the bill on it, and I was signing the bill when my little boy, who was standing at the door, said to the prisoner "Your horse has gone away"—the prisoner went out after it at once—he came back in about two minutes—I did not see the van come back—my boy went with the prisoner, I believe, when he went after the van—when the prisoner came back he went on receipting this bill, when my boy, who was at the door, said "Your horse has gone again"—the prisoner went after it and returned in as near as I can say 5 minutes—he said it had gone altogether and he could not find it—I advised him not
to take my money, and he left—when he first came he drove up to the dead wall and turned round—you cannot see the barber's shop from there, you can see the road.
Cross-examined. There was nothing peculiar in the man turning his cart round—when my boy told him the van was gone he went off as fast as he could, the same as I should myself—my little boy was at the door all the time, except when he went with the prisoner after the van on the first occasion.
JAMES CHARLES KING . I am a schoolboy and live with my father at Broad Street—on Thursday afternoon, 23rd August, I remember the prisoner coming with a van to my father's shop—he went up to the dead wall, turned the horse round, and then stopped at the corner of the shop just outside—he brought some tea in—I was standing at the door—while he was in the shop his horse went away and I told him, and he went after it as quick as he could—I went with him—the horse went up Broad Street and Martin Street, towards the station—the prisoner overtook it—when I was at the corner between Broad Street and Martin Street, by the baker's, I saw two hands in the cart having hold of the reins—I am certain of that—that was on the same side of the street as my father's shop—when the horse was overtaken it turned round—the prisoner was by the side of it then; I could not see if he had hold of it then—he came back to the shop—when the prisoner overtook the horse I saw the man have hold of the reigns and pull them—I did not overtake the horse myself, I stood at the corner—it had got a few doors up Martin Street—he came back to the corner of the barber's shop in Martin Street, not into Broad Street—he did not come all the way back—I saw it stop and saw the hands again on the reins—it was left there, and I and the prisoner went back to my father's shop—the prisoner said to me "Mind the horse," and after that he said "Oh, never mind, it don't matter now"—when he went back in the shop I said to the prisoner "I saw somebody in the van"—the prisoner said "No, there wasn't"—I did not see the horse start the second time, I saw it had gone when I looked round, and I was just beginning to tell him when he went out.
Cross-examined. To bring a van opposite our shop it would be necessary to drive down and turn round, or else back all the way out—I did not catch up the van—it was round in Martin Street when I got up to it—I saw the hands when it got up Martin Street—I was at the side of it when I saw them; it was in the road and I was by the corner of the shop—the van was down the road to the station—I was standing at the corner by the baker's shop—the van was further down the street, I was behind it—it was beginning to turn round away from me when I got up to it—I saw the hands inside, in front of the van, pull the reins and turn the horse round—the prisoner was by the side of the horse, quite close to it, I don't know if he touched it—I cannot swear the man never touched the horse, or if the prisoner turned it round or not—my father was not quite close to me when I made the remark to the prisoner about the hands—I am sure of that—I told the Magistrate my father was a yard off—that was close to me—he was close and would have heard what I said in the usual way.
Re-examined. My father was serving—there is room in Broad Street for a horse to drive up and turn round.
By the JURY. The cart looked full of goods when I ran out with the
prisoner—he holloaed out "Whoa"—I could not say if a man was sitting in the cart—the prisoner did not catch hold of the rein and stop the horse, the man inside did that.
ELIZA LAMBERT . I live at 1, Broad Street, Stratford—on this evening about 7 o'clock or a little after I was standing at my door, and I saw a van start from Mr. King's shop and go round into Martin Street, and then I saw the prisoner run out and shout after it—I did not see what made it start; the prisoner ran out, passed me and shouted something, and the van turned round in Martin Street—the prisoner was standing near the baker's shop, not near the van—I saw a man in the front of the van when it started from King's shop—I don't know whereabouts the man was in the van.
Cross-examined. I was standing in my doorway when I saw it—I did not notice how the van started—I could not say whether it stopped or not—it did not come round into Broad Street, it was turned in the direction of Stratford Broadway.
JOSEPH LEGAND . I am a hairdresser's assistant at 29, Martin Street, out of which Broad Street runs—on this afternoon I saw the van come round from the Broadway, and stop alongside the Commercial Hotel, which is very nearly opposite King's shop in Broad Street—it was there about a minute, and then I saw it going round towards the station—it had got to about the varnish shop when the prisoner came out, stood against the baker's shop and shouted to it, and it turned round by itself—it came along and drew up alongside our shop in Martin Street, and I saw the prisoner speak to a man who sat in the van on a box, he read two bills—I am certain I saw a man in the van, his legs were inside—I had some conversation with the prisoner on August 28th, he questioned me about the van.
Cross-examined. I was about 1 1/2 or 2 yards from the man when the prisoner spoke to him—I did not try to hear what he said—the van turned round by itself, the prisoner did not go near the horse—when the prisoner spoke to the man in the van he was standing by the side of the step.
JAMES HAUTOT . I live at Edwards Row, Bow, and am time-keeper to Mr. Mortimer, who does carman's business for Mr. Baker—on this night, about 10 p.m., the prisoner came in the yard and said he had lost his horse and van—I said "You are a nice one, where did you lose it?"—he said "At Angel Lane, Stratford"—he said he would go in and see Mr. Baker, as he was there; and he said "I reckon I shall get sneaked over this"—I am quite sure he said "Angel Lane," not "Near Angel Lane."
HARRY ANDREWS . I live at Brick Terrace, Leyton Road, and am potman at the King Harold, Leyton Road—I found a horse and van between 8 and 9 on this night in the Leyton Road, which is a continuation of Angel Lane, a railway bridge divides them—I saw it drawn up there, no one was with it—I gave it to the police as I saw it—the horse was in it and some goods.
JOHN SCOTT (Policeman KR 34). On this night at 8 o'clock I was on duty in Broad Street, the prisoner came to me and said he had lost his horse and van—I asked him where from—he said "From Mr. King's shop in Broad Street"—I asked him if he had been down to the station and reported the loss there—he said he had done so—I went round with
the prisoner to look for it, but could not see anything of it; I told him to go down to the station again.
FREDERICK FORTH (Detective Sergeant). On Saturday, 25th August, at 10 a.m., I saw Mr. Baker, and I afterwards called at the prisoner's house—not finding him I called again—I made some inquiries, and on Sunday, the 26th, at 12.30 p.m., I saw him at Half Moon Street by an appointment made with his wife—I said "I am a police officer, I am going to take you in custody on suspicion of being concerned in stealing a quantity of grocery from your van on Thursday; a woman says she saw a man in the van when it left Mr. King's shop"—the prisoner said "I don't know anything about a man being in the van"—I found 2s. 6d. on him and two small books—he was charged—I know the neighbourhood pretty well—a horse and cart cannot get out of Broad Street except by the way it got in—I should not think a horse and cart would be likely to go through there at 7 or 8 o'clock unattended, it would come into collision, and Stratford Broadway is worse—to go through Stratford Broadway to Leyton Road it would have to go through Angel Lane; that is busier still—I think it would be unlikely to go alone, unattended—a cart could go through Western Lane to Angel Lane—the nearest way is through William Street, by the railway station, that is less crowded.
Cross-examined. I was not in Martin Street that night.
JOSEPH LEGAND (Re-examined). I saw this van between 5 and 6, I believe; I could not say within a few minutes—I saw two vans—I only saw the prisoner once that day, when he came with the van—I am certain he is the man I saw.
JAMES KING (Re-examined). Previous to this van coming I had a milk van at my shop; that was the only one that came before it—late at night I had another one—I cannot swear how many vans came down the street.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. FILLAN Prosecuted.
JOHN MACCUSKA . I am foreman to Mr. Robson, who has stables at Sugarhouse Lane—I had a horse and cart for sale—on 9th September the prisoner came and asked whether he could take the horse and cart and sell them—I told him "No"—he said "I think I can find you a customer"—I said "Can you?"—he said "Yes; will you come with me now?"—I said "No"—he said the customer was at the top of the road—he left the house then, and I did not see him again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You said the gentleman, Mr. Watson, I believe, was at the top of the road—I said you could not have the horse and cart unless Tommy went with you—you have worked for other carmen that work for us; I knew you—I did not tell you to take it.
By the COURT. I missed the trap on Sunday night, the 9th—it was between 12 and 1 in the day I had the conversation with him, and I refused to let him take it away—the carman came to me about a quarter to 7—I don't know where the pony and trap were then.
THOMAS CUNNING . I am carman to the prosecutor—on 9th September, about half-past 6 p.m., I went to the prosecutor's stables, unlocked the gate, which is the only entrance, went in, and saw the prisoner there—he
must have climbed over to get there—I said "Holloa, Jack, what does this mean?"—he said "I am going to take the pony and cart"—I said "You can't"—he said "It is all right; I have been and seen the foreman; I won't get you into no trouble; if you don't believe me go and see the foreman"—I said "Well, Jack, if you are going to sell it, Sunday night is no time"—I went and spoke to the foreman at once, and from what he told me I came back to the prisoner, who was just inside the yard with the pony harnessed to the cart—I said "Jack, you must not take it"—he said "Look here, if he is going to mess me about like this you can come with me back to the foreman's house, and I will see him; I will not get you in any trouble"—I said to him "You must not take it; if you do I must go with you"—he said "All right, I must go home and get my whip"—I said "You have no occasion to do that; I have got one of my own"—I went in the stable to get my whip, and when I returned he and the pony and cart were gone—before that he told me first he was going to the Hackney Road, and then he said "Well, I will tell you the straight tip; I am going to Kingsland"—I said "Hackney Road reaches very near as far as Kingsland"—he said "I will tell you the truth; I am going nearly as far as Newington Butts; I promised a publican I would be there at 11 or 3"—finding he was gone I went to the foreman's house, and, finding he had not gone there as he promised, I told the foreman what had occurred, and we went to Bow and then to West Ham and reported it—we saw nothing of the prisoner till about 11 o'clock that night, I should think, then I saw the pony and cart standing at a coffee-stall in High Street, Stratford—from what I heard from the police I went to a sergeant and inspector, and as we came across the road the prisoner ran away down Chapel Street and out of sight, and I could not find him—I was out till 3 o'clock in the morning—next day I went to the cattle market and various places—I saw nothing of the pony, harness, or cart, but the prisoner passed me in the yard at Bridge's New Kent Road Horse Repository without seeing me—I called a constable and gave him into custody—he said to me "What are you over here for?"—I said "You know, Jack, it is not my fault, but I have got to charge you with stealing the pony, cart, and harness"—he said "Is your b----y foreman here?"—I said "No"—he was rather abusive—I afterwards went with Detective Sergeant Lloyd to Thurston's stables, at the back of Kennington Lane Police-station, where I saw the horse and cart—the prisoner said to the policeman "Don't handle me like that, they will think I am a murderer."
Cross-examined. I had the key of the gate; I had to unlock it to get into the stable—there was no little gate—you washed the cart and cleaned the harness while I was gone to the foreman.
JOHN MACCUSKA (Re-examined by the Prisoner). You came on Saturday morning about a carman's place—I said "There is a lot I want to sell first; I want to sell this to get room for a bigger lot"—you said "How much do you want for that?"—I said "I gave 10l. for it"—you said "You will never get 10l."—I did not say "All over 6l. You can make off it you can have for yourself"—I said I should let it go for 6l. 10s.—you said "You can give me as much as the buyer does, if the buyer gives me a half sovereign you might do the same"—I did not allow you any thought of selling it, you might send me some one if you liked—I did not say "You can make as much out of it as you like"—I said I would take 6l. 10s.
By MR. FILLAN. The place where the customer was waiting was about a minute's walk—I did not go out—I do not know if he was there or not—if I had wanted to give him the pony and cart I could have gone and given it to him at once, because I had a key—he told me the pig keeper was at the fish shop at the top of the street.
JOHN KINGMAN . I am a boy in the prosecutor's employment—on Sunday, 9th September, I saw the prisoner climb over a fence on to a bit of spare ground—he said to me "Where is the key?"—after that he got a bit of wood and climbed over another fence and got into the prosecutor's yard; the gates were locked—afterwards the carman came while he was there—I saw the prisoner and he saw me.
Cross-examined. You said to me "Has Tom come yet?"—I said "No"—you said "I have permission to take the pony and cart to sell"—I said "Tom ain't come yet"; so you climbed over the fence—I said "It is no use getting over, you can't open the gates"—I told you the key hung up at the window.
Re-examined. I did not give him permission to take the pony and cart—I had no authority to permit anyone to take it.
CHARLES THURSTON . I am a greengrocer of 36, Harley Road, Lower Kennington Lane—on Saturday, 8th September, the prisoner came and asked about the rent of some stables for a horse and trap—on Monday morning, about 6.30 a.m., I was knocked up by the prisoner—when I came down about 7 o'clock I found the pony, harness, and cart in the yard—the prisoner was cleaning the pony.
EDWARD DAY (Policeman L 166). On 10th September, about 5.45 a.m., I went to Thurston's and found this horse and cart—after that I went to Rodney Road Station, where I saw the prisoner—on the way from Rodney Road to West Ham he said "I meant to sell the lot and you would never have seen me"—Lloyd was in the cab too, I don't know if he heard it—the prisoner was cursing every one and threatening—he was very angry—when charged he was violent and abusive—he was not drunk.
Cross-examined. I was there when you were charged at West Ham.
JOHN LLOYD (Detective Sergeant K). I found the prisoner detained at Rodney Road Police-station, on 10th September, about 5 o'clock—I told him I should have to take him back to Stratford on a charge of stealing a horse and cart from Sugarhouse Lane—he became very violent, and threw down this pawn-ticket, and said "I pawned my coat there this morning, you will find it in a stable near there"—the cart was in a stable near there—I was with the prisoner and Day in the cab—he used most beastly language, and said he had sold it for 20l.—I did not hear him say "I meant to sell it and you would never have seen me"—I have never known him in custody for felony, he has been in several times for assaults; he is a very violent man.
Cross-examined. You said the cart was near the address on the ticket.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated he did not take the cart with any intention of stealing it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.
AMY COBLEY . I am 25 years of age; I was 19 when I first made the prisoner's acquaintance—I went to assist him in the business of an upholsterer and furniture dealer in Well Street, Camberwell; his wife had left him and gone to America—I had 10s. a week, and board and lodging, and I also took charge of the children—he afterwards moved to Wilson Street, Finsbury, where I filled the same position—in August, 1883, I went with him and the children to Ramsgate, where, for the first time, connection took place between us—the result was that I became in the family-way—he knew that—in March, 1884, we moved to a private house at Walthamstow, where we resided as husband and wife, and I gave up the best part of my duties in the business—in February, 1887, I received this letter from him, by post—prior to that I had received a ring from him as a present; that was when we lived in Wilson Street; I always wore that ring from that time, he bought himself a new ring and gave me the old one—from that time to this year he never made any claim to that ring—he also gave me a George the Fourth sovereign, that was when he went back to his wife, when he was living at Leyton; some time in February or March; he was away three months—he gave it to me in the train coming from Liverpool—he never made any claim on that sovereign, it was never mentioned between us—after the letter in 1887 I occasionally saw him—he left me altogether about three months ago; he did not leave me then, but he treated me so badly that I could not live with him; I told him on Monday I should move my goods, and I fetched a van, and on Tuesday I told the man what things belonged to him and what to me, and when the man attempted to move my things he shook the man and frightened him—I had a cash-box, of which I kept the key, it contained a lot of jewellery and this ring and sovereign; it was in a drawer in my bedroom—on Sunday, 22nd July, he was in the bedroom, dressing—on the Monday I missed the ring and sovereign from the box, it was still locked, no one else had a key of it but myself, and I had the key in my dress-pocket—he continued to sleep in the house with me after that—I consulted my friends, and I told him "You have stolen my ring and sovereign from the cash-box"—on 14th August I went to him with Mr. Miller, and again charged him with stealing the ring.
Cross-examined. He had the ring a great many years, this is it (produced), and this is the sovereign—he never told me that the ring was given to him by a friend; as to the furniture, the things when brought into the house were given to me as my own and sole property—a Chancery suit was commenced when I wanted to move them; I have not the date, I believe it was on 31st July—the ring and sovereign were stolen on Sunday, the 22nd, I believe, and on the Monday I told him he had taken them—I did not think of giving him in charge then—Mr. Miller is my brother-in-law—on the Tuesday morning, the 24th, I had a van there, the prisoner also had a van there later in the day—I did not smack the prisoner's face that day—I struck him three times—Mr. Baker was there, and Mr. Miller; I believe he asked the prisoner not to charge me, but I did not hear him—I said "You are a thief, you have
stolen my ring and sovereign;" he said "Yours! yours! we will see about it"—I struck him with my left hand because he insulted me; he wanted me to strike him with my umbrella, but I would not—I went to Mr. Nicholls, my solicitor, some days after that to ask him to get my ring and sovereign, and Chancery proceedings were commenced—I took out a summons for the ring and sovereign when he told me he would not return them—no one told me to take out the summons—I did not think that would force a settlement about the furniture—Mr. Nicholls did not tell me to take it out, he appeared for me at the police-court—I do not think the prisoner took these things on account of their intrinsic value, I am sure of that, he merely took them to annoy me; he would have taken my teeth out of my head if he could—he never said that the ring had a value to him on account of the person who had given it to him—I had about three or four interviews with him between the 23rd July and 17th August—I never knew that Mr. Baker or anybody else knew anything about the ring.
Re-examined. I consulted Mr. Nicholls the next morning after the furniture was removed; that had nothing to do with the ring or the sovereign—I then left it to Mr. Nicholls to take whatever proceedings he thought proper—the proceedings were at Stratford—I did not mention about the ring and sovereign to Mr. Nicholls until some time after the affair of the furniture arose.
ERNEST MILLER . I am a confectioner, and am brother-in-law of the prosecutrix—I live in Central Street, St. Luke's—I have known the prisoner between four and five years—I have seen this ring on Miss Cobley's hand; I saw it last Christmas Day; I had seen it once before, I believe—she never made any statement to me about it—I have never seen the sovereign—on 14th August I went with her to the prisoner's warehouse in Wilson Street, and she said to him "You have stolen my ring and sovereign."
Cross-examined. He did not deny it; he said they were not hers.
ROBERT BAKER . I am engaged in the upholstery department in the Civil Service—I know both the prisoner and prosecutrix—on 14th August, at the prisoner's request, I had an interview with the prosecutrix; it was not about the ring and sovereign; the prisoner was not present—I was afterwards present at his warehouse in Wilson Street, when the prosecutrix came there with Mr. Miller—she said "You have stolen my ring and sovereign"—he said "They never were yours, and never shall be"—that was all that took place as to the ownership of the ring and sovereign.
Cross-examined. She struck him—there was a serious row, and I interceded, and asked him not to make any charge against her—I was consulted, with a view of bringing the matters to a settlement, but it went off on the question of costs—I never saw Mr. Nicholls.
The RECORDER ruled that there was no case, the things being taken under a claim of right.
>NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.
GUILTY of an indecent assault of a slight character. — Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. TICKELL Prosecuted.
ANN MARIA MASKELL . I am a widow, and keep the Butchers' Arms, Wanstead—on 16th August, between 3 and 4 p.m., I went out of my shop for a few minutes, leaving no one there—the till was closed, but not locked—the drawer is 18 inches below the counter—when I returned I saw the prisoner leaning over the counter, with the till pulled out—I said "What do you want there?"—he said "Nothing"—I said "Nothing; why, you have been robbing my till"—he said "Me rob your till?"—I said "Yes, you are a bad man"—he sidled to the door, keeping his face to me talking—he went outside and walked quickly—I called "Stop thief," and then he ran as fast as he could—I followed him, and spoke to Mr. Chinnery, who followed him in his trap—I missed 8s. from my till; it might be more; there was only 1s. 3d. left—I had seen it safe a very few minutes before—the prisoner was brought back by a constable, and I said "What have you done with my money?"—he said "I have not had it."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You never asked me for any beer, you had your hand in the till.
ROBERT CHINNERY . I live at Wanstead—I was driving with my father on August 6th, and Mrs. Maskell spoke to me—I heard her shout "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running, and jumped out of the cart—he ran down Eagle Lane and went behind a hedge, and then ran again and I lost sight of him—I found him in a private garden lying down by some bushes—I called out, and Mr. Brooks came and gave him in custody, a quarter of a mile from where he started.
DANIEL BROOKS . I am a blacksmith of Snaresbrook—on August 16th I was at work in an enclosed garden, and the prisoner ran in; he did not see me till he got over the fence—he then asked me if I had seen a parrot, I said "No, and I don't believe there is one here; whose parrot is it?"—he said "A lady asked me to try and catch a parrot she had just lost"—I told him to go off the premises at once—I went to the next garden, which is enclosed, and saw him get over there, and he was taken in custody.
WILLIAM HUNT (Policeman). On August 16th, about 3.30, I was off duty in plain clothes, received information, and went to the Butchers' Arms, where the prisoner was detained, and Mrs. Maskell charged him with robbing her till of 8s.—he said nothing—I took him to the station and searched him, and found a shilling and four sixpences—when the charge was read to him he said he did not have the money.
Prisoner's Defence. When I was arrested a man at the beershop said, "If you give the 8s. up the woman won't prosecute you." I said "I know nothing about 8s., I went in for half a pint of beer and the woman accused me, but I know nothing about the money or till."
A. M. MASKELL (Re-examined). No one said in my hearing, "If you
give the 8s. up the woman won't prosecute you"—there were sixpences and shillings in the till.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of a like offence at Clerkenwell on August 9th, 1886.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. JONES Prosecuted.
RICHARD JEFFERY . I live at Hayward's Heath—my mother carries on business as a marine glue manufacturer in Stratford and I manage the business—I have known the prisoner some years, he has done odd carting jobs for us—in the spring of this year an arrangement was made between me and the prisoner which was subsequently reduced into writing. (By this, dated 23rd May, the prisoner agreed to hire two horses, two carts, and harness, at a rent of 1l. a month, and to keep the horses well fed, and they and the carts in good condition, and not to underlet or part with them without the owner's consent; the owner to take possession if these conditions were not fully performed). The prisoner purchased some horses, carts, and harness on my behalf—these are the accounts for them (produced)—those things were delivered into his possession, and he used them—for the week ending August 11th he had had 3l. on a general account of his work—about 3 o'clock in the afternoon Mr. Cork, our accountant, was at the premises, the prisoner came in and said "Oh, I see Mr. Cork is with you, I will go back and fetch my papers"—he went away; and then his little girl came round with this account, amounting to 2l. 17s. 6d.—on the back in pencil was: "Please Sir, I don't feel well to come, but will you let bearer have 2l., and I will settle up on Monday?"—I had some conversation with Mr. Cork, and I then knew a balance of 11d. was all that was due to the prisoner, but if I took interest into consideration the balance was the other way—I refused to part with any money, and subsequently left my office about 4 o'clock, leaving Mr. Cork there—the prisoner had marked the carts "J.J." with an iron brand under the shafts—I had seen the marks—after the prisoner had them he had no authority to part with the carts.
Cross-examined. You had 3l. that week; I won't say altogether—I lent you 1l. in Marsh Gate Lane—I can't recollect if you had 1l. the week before, and 1l. the week before that; there were 3l.—I ordered you to put the "J.J." on the carts—you could have put your own name on—I lent you 50l. to lay out for these horses and carts, and you were to pay me it back 1l. a month—it would have taken you five years to pay it—I told you if you wanted money you could have 1l. or 2l. in advance for work you did at any time—I have given you 2l. a week in advance—there was not 17s. 6d. due to you on this Saturday—you paid for the stables—your wife came and said you were sorry if you had done anything wrong, and would I withdraw the summons if you sent the cart back—you have been with us six years I think—I can't say if it is 10—we have been eight years at Stratford—I can't say if you worked at the old factory—you have put buildings up for me—I have trusted you with hundreds of pounds, and never found you wrong—I trusted you to buy materials for those buildings, and to pay wages for the contract job, and never found you wrong in your accounts.
Re-examined. When his wife came I said I could not withdraw from
the prosecution—the prisoner had to pay for the stable—on one occasion I let him put his horses in my stable for a short time.
ROBERT THOMAS CORK . I live at 21, Victoria Park Road, and am accountant to Jeffery and Co., glue manufacturers—I witnessed this agreement—on 11th August, about 3 p.m., I was at the office, and heard the prisoner say "I will go and fetch my papers"—later on the little girl came and delivered the piece of paper, and I had some conversation with Mr. Jeffery, and at his desire I wrote a memorandum, which I sent back by her—later on, about 4.30, the prisoner came to the office—he was not ill—he grumbled very much at Mr. Jeffery not having left the money out, and he said "I must have money" or "some money," I am not sure which; "I shall have to get rid of some of the things; that is giving 10l. for 5l."—I urged him not to do so—I was aware of the agreement, and told him he would render himself liable—he said "I must have some money if I steal it"—he went away.
Cross-examined. You said "I must have some money if I steal it; I should not like to do that; I have never done such a thing in my life"—you said you had not got 1d. in the world to buy food for the horses or to pay your wife or buy dinner for Sunday or anything; and that you did not want to do anything wrong—I have no recollection of your saying you had been trying to get money at two or three places, and could not get it.
JOHN COOPER . I am a carman, of 44, Carpenter Road—on Saturday, 11th August, the prisoner came about 6 p.m., and wanted to sell me two carts and some old harness and old horses for 20l.—I told him I did not want them; I had got nothing for my own to do—he went away—he had nothing from me—about mid-day on Monday, 13th, he offered me the two carts for 8l.—on Tuesday he offered me the two carts for 6l.—I bought them, and paid him the money—this is the receipt: "August 14th. Bought two carts of Mr. Goff, for the sum of 6l. Signed, H. Goff"—the receipt my missus wrote—he also gave me this paper which he brought ready written:—"London, August 14th.—Mr. Cooper to H. Goff: sold two second-hand carts for the sum of 6l. for the agreement for cart and stabling for one month"—he asked me if he could put a horse in the stable for a month, and would I lend him a cart; so I was to buy two carts for 6l., and let the horse stand in my stable for a month, and lend him a cart if he had any work to do—he was to feed the horse—I fetched the carts on Tuesday—he shot the horse out, and as soon as the cart went up I saw "J.J." on the shaft—I said, "Some people have a funny way of marking carts underneath"—he turned his back, and walked away—I used the carts till Mr. Jeffery came to identify them on the 29th.
Cross-examined. I will swear it was not Monday the carts came there.
The prisoner in his defence said that owing to the wet weather he had been out of pocket every week since Easter, and that he was forced to sell something to get food for the horses.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
Leytonstone—on 18th August I left town, leaving my house perfectly secure; every door was bolted with the exception of the front door, which was locked with a latch lock; a latch key could open it.
CATHERINE JANE LLOYD . I live at 40, Forest Drive, Leytonstone—on 23rd August, about half-past 7 to a quarter to 8 p.m., I watched the prisoner walking up and down in front of our house and Mr. Harrison's—I saw him in company with another man walk up to Mr. Harrison's front door, which is next to my house—there is a garden in front and a gate, which the prisoner tried first, the other man standing by his side—then he, with the other man, crept along the grass in the front garden to the front door—I could not see what they were doing then, because of the porch, but I called my husband and son.
Cross-examined. I did not give you time to get in—you were at the door a minute or two before you came out and my husband called to you.
THOMAS LLOYD . I live at 40, Forest Drive, and am the last witness's son and a builder's improver—on 23rd August I saw the prisoner about half-past 7 with another man standing in Mr. Harrison's front porch—my father asked them what they wanted; one of them said they were begging—my father said they were not, that they were trying to break into the house, and then one of them asked for Mr. Rouse—my father shouted "Stop thief," one ran away and escaped, and I ran after the prisoner and did not lose sight of him till he was caught by a gentleman who came in front of him—we led him to the house and sent a boy for a policeman, who came after half an hour, and took him into custody—I do not know any person called Rouse.
JAMES SMITH (Policeman J 453). I took the prisoner into custody about 8.30 on 23rd August—I charged him at Harrow Green Police-station—he said "I was begging"—I found on him a wax candle, a purse, a railway carriage key, a knife, two pipes, a snuff-box, a tobacco-pouch, a handkerchief, a watchkey, and a pipe stem in his pocket—I examined the door of No. 38 and found marks on it corresponding with this pocket knife.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said the other man asked him to come and try to break into a house, and gave him a candle, and that having no work he went.
GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
MICHAEL MADDEN . I am a foreman stevedore—on 10th August last I employed 12 men to coal a steamship—John White was one of them, a man named Drain was another, the prisoner was a third—I do not know the name of the man who was with White at Woolwich, who was paid by the prisoner—the men were entitled to 4s. each at the end of the day—I had a death in my family, and I directed John White to pay the other men—I gave him 2l. 8s. for that purpose; that was 4s. for himself, and 4s. each for the other 11 men—I saw Courteney that day in the Sydney Arms—Drain asked me when I was going to settle with the men—I told him Mr. White was coming along—I saw Courteney leave the house; he could hear what we said—after that a communication was
made to me—I gave the prisoner in charge next morning a little after 9 o'clock—the charge was for receiving money under false pretences.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I gave Mr. White 2l. 8s.—I did not see him give you the money—the police would not accept the charge from Mr. White, so I had to charge you—there was no partition in the bar to prevent my seeing you.
By the COURT. My sister-in-law was dead, and this happened just before the coffin was screwed down—I got back about a quarter to 11—the conversation occurred in the public-house about a quarter to 6 in the evening—I was away from 6 in the morning till about 11 o'clock—the men finished their work at 2 o'clock—I left White with the money in the evening.
Re-examined. I made an appointment to pay the men at 6 o'clock at our office in Sidney Street; the prisoner heard me say so.
JOHN WHITE . I live at 3, Rendall Road, Tidal Basin—I am a labourer—I was one of the 12 men employed by Mr. Madden to coal a steamship on the 10th August—I began work at 7 and finished by 2 o'clock—the money was handed over to me by Madden—he came to me about 5.30, with the money in a bag—the prisoner was not present—the money was for the purpose of paying the other men—Courteney was the first man who came to me—I saw him in Sidney Street; he said "Where is my money? Michael Madden has sent me to you for the money"—I deducted my own 4s. out of the 2l. 8s., and handed him 2l. 4s.; he then said "The b----rest can do what they like, and can follow me for it;" I followed him to Woolwich—that was about two miles from where I met him—something that passed with another man induced me to follow the prisoner—when I saw him he came outside the public-house, and said "You can do what you like; you cannot get any money off me;" one man who was working with me went to the prisoner, and he handed him 4s. out of the money—I went to the Woolwich Police-station because the prisoner refused to give up the money—the next morning he was charged—where I met the prisoner was about 50 feet from the office.
By the Prisoner. I charged you at Woolwich for taking the men's money—the man at the station turned round, and said it was a County Court charge, and they let you go.
Re-examined. He was not drunk when I gave him the money—the policeman said he could not take the charge, but would go with me to the public-house to see if he could get the money back—the police said if the foreman was there he could prosecute, but I could not—it was about 10 minutes past 6 when I gave him the money—after I handed it to him he turned his back and went across the road.
WILLIAM RICHARDSON (Policeman K 280). At half-past 9 on the 11th August Madden and White came to the station—I went to the Ship public-house with Madden—I saw the prisoner and called him outside—I said "I shall take you into custody for obtaining 2l. 4s. from John White by false pretences"—he replied "I took it and spent it"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—on the way to the station he said that White gave him the money—at the station he said "I should not have taken it if he had not given it to me"—in reply to the charge he said "I know I had it"—I searched him, and found 2s. 5 1/2 d. on him and a knife.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I only had the money he gave me; I only asked him for my money, and he gave me the lot."
GUILTY of larceny as a bailee. The Jury recommended the prisoner to mercy on account of the lax manner in which the business was transacted. — Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY Defended.
GEORGE CHAPMAN . I am a picture frame maker, of 151, King's Road, Chelsea—on 28th June, 1878, I was present at St. James's Church, Piccadilly, when the prisoner was married to my sister-in-law, Miss Gilburd; that is her.
Cross-examined. I am 21 years old—she was not my sister-in-law then, but I married her sister a week or two afterwards—the prisoner left her once or twice in the first 18 months, but he did not assert till recently that she had a husband living, and had had a child—I was a witness in the Divorce Court on the matter of their judicial separation; it was for desertion and adultery—I believe there was a payment of money pendente lite, and I have heard that the second wife has paid the alimony on many occasions.
Cross-examined. There is not an absolute decree—there was a second decree on the ground of adultery with the second wife—my wife's sister has got the decree, dated 11th January, 1883, and permanent alimony—she has not taken any part in this prosecution—the prisoner has evaded payment and has been hiding.
Re-examined. About 200l. is the amount which he has not paid her—he circulated unfavourable rumours about his wife.
JEANETTE HOLFORD . I live at 21, Bloomfield Street, Harrow Road—I met the prisoner early in 1883—he said he was a bachelor, I believed him, and went through the ceremony of marriage with him in 1883 at St. Alphege, Greenwich—I found out that he was married during the first year, but I continued to live with him—afterwards, in 1885, he said he was going to Plymouth for a week and he did not come back—I saw him in London ten weeks afterwards, but he never returned to me—he gave me a small sum in 1886, but I have not seen him for three years.
Cross-examined. I have no children—after he left me I sold the furniture
for 86l., he told me to sell it—he did not leave me 200l. in the house, he gave it to me two or three months afterwards—it was not my intention to have him arrested if he had fulfilled his promise to provide for me—I do not seek to get money by a criminal prosecution, it is a simple affair of justice here—I have not been to any solicitor till I went to Mr. Scarlett last week, I applied for a warrant by myself.
Re-examined. I was not left alone, I had a companion, and the prisoner said he could provide for us both—I believe him to be a man of means—since he gave me the 200l. I have paid 30l. rent, and I have paid his first wife's alimony two or three times—he said that I could still keep my companion.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Detective Sergeant R). A description of the prisoner was circulated on June 8th, and on September 11th I found him at Chelsea Police Station, he had been given in custody by some friend of his first wife—I read the warrant to him, he said "I never committed bigamy, I was free from the first wife in 1881; they have had me in Holloway gaol and in the Divorce Court; both the wives have husbands living"—I produce the certificate: he describes himself as a bachelor and a gentleman in the marriage he went through with Miss Holford in 1883.
MR. BESLEY here stated that he had no answer to the charge.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
MARY ANN TOVEY . I am the wife of James Tovey, a carrier, of 17, Wellington Grove, Greenwich—on August 31st Skeef was lodging in our house with his parents, and on that day I saw the two prisoners leave the house about 4.30 or 4.45, and soon afterwards missed this jacket (produced) from my parlour—also my husband's volunteer tunic, a black coat and other articles, which I have not seen since.
Cross-examined by Skeef. I did not see a third man with you.
JOSEPH DAVIS . I live in this house—on August 31st I came home in the evening, and missed a watch and chain, a pair of boots, and a jacket which I had seen safe at 5.40 a.m.—these are them (produced)—Skeef lodged in the same room.
ARTHUR SMITH . I am a wardrobe dealer, of 94, Church Street, Deptford—on 31st August, about 4 p.m., the prisoner Spencer brought me a lady's jacket and this coat, and asked me to give him 4s. on them—I asked if they were his own, he said, "Yes"—I gave him 3s., and he went outside to Skeef, and I heard him say, "3s."
THOMAS JEFFREYS . I am a marine store dealer, of Wellington Street, Deptford—on August 31st, about 11 a.m., the prisoners came and Spencer asked me to buy this watch—I asked him whose it was—he said, "The young man's outside," and I saw Skeef at the door—I asked him how much he wanted—he said, "8s."—I gave him 7s. for it, and they went away together.
ALBERT SMITH . I am assistant to James Topp, a pawnbroker, of Rotherhithe—on 31st August, between 2 and 3 p.m., Spencer offered me this jacket in pledge—I gave him 2s. 6d. for it—he said it was his Sunday jacket.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I received information of this robbery, and on the evening of August 31st I saw Skeef at 17, Wellington Grove, Greenwich, and spoke to him about the robbery—he said, "I don't know anything about it; I have not been home since 7 o'clock"—I said, "You were seen here at 3 o'clock with another man; you will have to go to the station with me"—I took him to a beer shop where Spencer was, and told Spencer he would have to go to the station with me—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For committing a robbery in Wellington Grove"—he said, "All right"—I found on Spencer 11s. in silver and 10d., and on Skeef 5s. 6d. in silver and twopence—I said to Skeefe, "How do you account for the possession of this money? I was told you only had 1d. this morning"—he said, "I have been into the docks and earned it"—I said, "I don't believe it"—he said, "I will tell you the truth; I went with the other man; he sold a coat and different things at a marine store dealer's in Church Street, Deptford, and sold a watch to a marine store dealer in Wellington Street, Deptford, and he pawned a pair of boots and a coat up by the Red Lion; he gave me this money for my share"—I was able to trace the property—Spencer heard that and said nothing.
GUILTY .—SPENCER then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court in August, 1886.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. SKEEF— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
904. JAMES CLARK (28) and JOHN ROBERTS (31) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a gelding, cart, and harness, the property of Duke Dyke, Clark having been convicted at Greenwich in May, 1888. CLARK— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. ROBERTS— Ten Months' Hard Labour. And
905. FRANCIS WRIGHT (21) and HARRY HASLAR (18) to unlawfully falsifying the accounts of Richard Carpenter, their employer. WRIGHT— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. HASLAR— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] There was another indictment against Haslar for stealing 180l. and a flute and other articles of Richard Carpenter, his master, upon which MR. BESLEY offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAWFORD Prosecuted.
MR. GILL Prosecuted; MR. BESLEY defended Muskett; MR. GEOGHEGAN defended Shiers.
Greenwich—on 30th June, between 1 and 2, the three prisoners came to my place—Cocks said "I come to hire a tricycle for three weeks"—he asked how much it would be—I said "Have you had any machines here before?"—he said "No"—I said "Have you any friends who have had any machines here before?"—he said "You know all my family, if you like to go up to speak to them to ask about my character; my mother-in-law lives next door; you can speak to her about it; and my brother has a shop not far off from my place, a tailor"—he said he wanted the tricycle to go for three weeks' holiday—I said "If you call back in a couple of hours' time I will think it over"—he gave the address, 17, Winforton Street, Greenwich—the three prisoners were all standing close together; one could hear what the other said—they all three came back in an hour and a half or two hours afterwards—I found the people he mentioned lived there, and I let Cocks have a tricycle when he came the second time—he paid me 2l. 5s. for the three weeks' hire—it was a second-hand Cripper tricycle, of the Coventry Machinists' Company, value 12l. 10s.; the value new is about 20 guineas—he rode the tricycle away—I don't know what became of the other two men—on the 14th July Cocks and Muskett came to my workshop, and Cocks said "Mr. Lewry, I want another tricycle for my friend, Mr. Muskett, to finish the three weeks' holiday with me together"—he asked me how much it would be—I said "1l. for the week; I have not a machine here in stock at present, but if you call in in two or three hours' time I shall have one in"—they said they would wait in the public-house—when I went to the public-house to tell them there was a machine just come in I saw Shiers with them—they all three came across the road to my shop—Muskett paid 1l. for the week's hire, and I let him have the machine, which Cocks rode away—I did not see those machines again till I saw and identified them at Sprunt's, the pawnbroker's—before I saw them I kept going day after day to Cocks's and Muskett's, and they kept promising to bring the tricycles home—I asked where they were—Muskett told me they had lent them again to some friends of his, and that they expected them home every minute—about a week after the hiring time expired Cocks came to my place, and told me I should have the machine the following morning—at last he disappeared, and I could not find him—I saw Muskett, and told him if I did not get my machines back I should have to take legal proceedings against him—he kept sending me to Cocks, whom I could not find.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Muskett gave a correct address and name—I understood him to say he believed they were lent to friends of Cocks's—Shiers did not speak on either occasion—Muskett was there with Cocks, and they spoke together—I saw them on all occasions together—Cocks told me he had been in the bicycle trade—he had some knowledge of bicycles and tricycles—he never told me about having purchased a house or about any negotiations for giving him 800l.—5l. was raised by Cocks on the first bicycle and 3l 10s. on the second—Cocks rode the second one away, Muskett said he wanted it for a week—I received 2l. 5s. for the loan of the first, and 1l. for the second—I tried to get my property back from the pawnbrokers without payment, but they want their money back—I should not have prosecuted if I had had my machines back—I know nothing of Muskett's character.
Cross-examined by Cocks. Nothing was said about purchase when you hired the machines—you have told me that when you brought it back
you were going to buy a safety bicycle—you asked the value of the machine and I said twelve guineas—you asked me whether I would take clothes instead of money for another machine—I said I would think it over—I said when you brought the machine back I would take part in clothes for the other machine—I deny I sold it, I never said anything about selling it the first time you came—I did not say I wanted a suit of clothes and that I would take it off the machine—I was not drunk, I had had nothing to drink at the time—I have not consulted with anybody as to what I should say—12l. 10s. is the value of each of the machines—they are both second hand, but they have had very little use.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Muskett and Cocks came first on 30th June—I did not see Shiers with them then—they agreed the hiring price then, and selected the machine, Shiers not being present—everything was settled then, except the paying of the money and the taking away of the machines—when Shiers came all that was to be done was for Cocks to ride away on the bicycle—Shiers did not say a word to me about the first transaction—Cocks made certain statements about his mother-in-law, which I found correct—I met the prisoners at the White Swan on 14th July, before that I had seen Cocks and Muskett; they spoke together, and said Muskett wanted a machine—I saw them first on the 14th by themselves, without Shiers—they were waiting three or four hours for the machine—they mentioned at first the kind of machine, and the amount of money for the hire, so that all that was left on the second occasion was to pay the money and take the machine away—I did not see Shiers before I went to the public-house—he said nothing on either occasion—they all left my shop together, but outside my premises Shiers went away and let the other two go away—I attended the police-court about five times—August 11th was the first hearing, and the last 31st August—I saw the police before 11th August—Cocks and Muskett were the only prisoners on 11th August, 18th, and 24th August—I did not see Shiers in the dock till the 31st—I saw him outside the court on 11th, 14th, and 28th, where the police could put their hands on him—I cannot say I saw Shiers called and sworn as a witness for the prosecution; he said he would go as a witness to give evidence, as far as he knew—it was through the information he gave that Cocks was arrested—he went into the witness-box on 24th August—he was brought before the Magistrate by summons—I believe I saw Mr. Scard, the solicitor who conducted the case at the police-court, speaking to Shiers—the only information Shiers gave me was where I could find Cocks—what passed between Shiers and the solicitor, Mr. Scard, I don't know.
Re-examined. Shiers wanted to be a witness—the Magistrate made some remark when he went into the witness-box—Muskett and Cocks came on 30th June, between 1 and 2 o'clock, and they came back between 2 and 3 o'clock with Shiers—the money was paid then—I gave a receipt for the money, I believe—the machine was taken away on 14th July, when they were all three together, about 5.30 or 6 p.m.—my place is about 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour's walk from Mr. Sprunt's place.
By the JURY. This was a hire simply.
he asked me if I could lend him 7l. on it—I told him I could not lend him so much as that, and I offered 4l. at first, and then 5l., which was the amount fixed on—I asked if he had the receipt; he produced this receipt: "13, South Street, Wandsworth, May 10th. Mr. J. Thomas, debtor to J. Robertson, second-hand club tricycle 15l. 10s., cash 9l. Paid balance May 23rd, 1888, 6l. 10s."—he gave the name of A. Thomas, and the address 21, Blissett Street, Greenwich—this is the special contract note I gave him.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I told the Magistrate that when Cocks pledged on 30th June, another man, not Muskett, was with him—it was not Muskett.
JOHN SMITH . I am assistant to Mr. Sprunt, a pawnbroker, at Lewisham—on 14th July Shiers came, about 8.30 or 9 p.m., with a tricycle to pledge—I asked him if the machine was his—he said "Yes," he wanted to meet a bill—he asked for 6l. or 7l. on it—I offered to advance him 3l. 10s. on it; he went out, and said "I will go and see if the man will take the 3l. 10s. in payment of the bill which I wish to meet"—he came back after about a quarter of an hour, and said he would take the money—I asked his name, and he gave "Archibald Jackson, 13, Pope's Road, Brixton"—I asked him if he had the receipt—he said "Yes," and produced this receipt: "24, Jermyn Street, and Eagle Place, Piccadilly. A. Jackson, bought of Cocks and Son. Received of A. Jackson, 11l., for Cripper tricycle. Dear Alfred, if you will call at my house and show this you can take machine away with you. R. H. C."—I afterwards identified Shiers as the man who had come.
Cross-examined by Cocks. I am a very fair judge of the value of tricycles—I should think that machine was worth about 8l. or 9l.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not bring the receipt to the police-court—Shiers said he wanted money to pay a bill—he did not say it was another person who wanted money to pay a bill, and he would go and see if the man who was pressed would accept it—it was a mistake at the police-court to say "I showed Mr. Lewry a tricycle pledged by a man who gave the name of Shiers on 14th July"—I will swear Shiers did not say he was not pawning the tricycle for himself, but for another man who wanted the money—I took the receipt for my own protection—I understood the tricycle belonged to Mr. Archibald Jackson—I did not ask who Cocks was; I saw Cocks's address and the receipt for 11l.—I did not ask anything about that—it is not unusual for people pawning to ask double the amount they take, nor for them to give an incorrect address—the Magistrate asked me if I could recollect the man who pledged the machine, and I said it was pledged by a man named Shiers—Francis told me his name was Shiers—I picked out the man, and I was told his name was Shiers—I do not think I was told the name previously to picking him out—Shiers pretended to go out to consult some person outside—I did not pick him out from a number of people—I think he was at the police-court week after week, from the first hearing till he was summoned.
Re-examined. I identified him somewhere in the street at Brixton.
THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). I had conduct of this matter, and was making inquiries—on 4th August, at 1 a.m., I arrested Muskett on a warrant at 51, Trinity Street, Greenwich—I told him I held a warrant, and that he would be charged with conspiring with Cocks to
obtain a tricycle from Mr. Lewry, of the Blackheath Road—he said "You must go to Cocks; he has had the machine"—I said "You had one"—he said "I got it for Cocks, and he took it away to his brother; I never had it in my place"—on 8th August I accompanied Smith to Brixton, where he identified Shiers in the street as the man who had pawned the machine on 14th July—I told Shiers he had been identified as having pawned a machine at Mr. Sprunt's on 14th July—he said "Yes, I pawned it for Muskett"—I said "Do you know where Cocks is?"—he said "No"—I said "I am told that he has been seen with you; you had better tell me where he is"—he said "I don't like to round on him"—I pressed him—he told me then he was to meet him that afternoon at the Plough, Clapham Common—I went there and saw Cocks on the pavement opposite the Plough—I told him I held a warrant for his arrest for being concerned with Muskett in obtaining a tricycle from Mr. Lewry—he said "Lewry might have waited a few days; I have got some money coming to me; I would have got the machines out and returned them to him"—I conveyed him to Blackheath Road Station, where he was charged—I told him I had found the tricycle pledged at Mr. Sprunt's—in searching the prisoner I found three blank billheads "13, South Street, Wandsworth. Dr. to J. Robertson," similar to these that receipts are made out on for some of the machines—I spoke to him about other matters not connected with this charge—after some hearings Shiers was charged, and appeared to his summons—the solicitor to the prosecution called him into the witness box, and then the Magistrate made some observation.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. I asked him where Cocks was after I had done talking of pawning the machine—I took no notes of the conversation with Shiers; I was not going to arrest him—Shiers did not say "I pawned the machine on 14th July for Cocks"—he said he pawned it for Muskett—I did not ask him "Where shall I find Cocks?" following on his statement that he pawned the machine for Cocks—I said at the Court below he said he pawned it for Muskett.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I asked Shiers to attend to give evidence, and the summons was served on him at the police-court—he was not arrested or given into custody; that was 31st August—with the exception of myself and Rowley, there was no fresh evidence given on that day; it consisted of witnesses who were recalled—until 31st August Shiers had attended the Court at my instance—I have made inquiries about him of the police at Brixton; they say he is a respectable man, carrying on business in the Loughborough Road—I think Shiers said he had never known anything shady of Cocks.
Re-examined. There is no person named Robertson carrying on business at 13, South Street, Wandsworth.
Shiers, in his statement before the Magistrate, said he advanced Mr. Cocks money in the first place for repairs, as he believed, to the machine, and as it was not his own money he was anxious to get it returned; that he went to Greenwich with a view to taking a shop in the neighbourhood, and that he believed it was Cocks's machine that was fetched away, and that he had believed Cocks had been in the bicycle business, and had 900l. coming to him.
Muskett and Shiers received good characters.
Cocks, in his defence, said that he fully intended to return the machines; that he had a good business, but wanted money to carry it on, and that three
days after he was arrested he could have redeemed the machines, and taken them back, and he argued that, had he intended to deprive Lewry of them, he could have sold them for larger sums than he obtained by pawning.
MUSKETT and SHIERS— NOT GUILTY . COCKS— GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
There was another indictment against Muskett and Shiers, which was postponed to next Session.
MR. GRAZEBROOK Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended.
HENRY TILLING . I am porter to George Beaver, leather merchant, of 46, Church Street, Greenwich—about a quarter to 8 on 8th August I was coming down the Southwark Park Road into Rotherhithe New Road with a barrow, on which were two butts of leather, a roll of gutta-percha, a bag of nails, and two empty baskets—the prisoner came up, and asked whether I knew a person coming from the other side of the water—I said "No"—the prisoner left me—I went a little further, and left my barrow outside the Woodman public-house, and went in there for five minutes; when I came out my barrow was gone—I ran up the Rotherhithe New Road—I spoke to a constable, and then, turning round, I saw the prisoner coming towards us—when I went towards him he dropped the barrow and ran away—the constable ran after him, and he was taken into custody—he said "I was only taking the barrow to the police-station"—he was going towards the Southwark Road, which is in a different direction to the police-station—I saw nothing on the barrow.
Cross-examined. I do not know the Upper Grange Road Police-station—when the prisoner cross-examined me at the police-court I said "Some man did ask if any person had come over the water who owed me so much; I said I did not know"—that is correct; I don't know why I said "some man;" it was the prisoner—"I first saw you on the Crystal Bridge, not five minutes after I lost the barrow," is wrong—I can bring nobody to corroborate me that I saw him before I lost the barrow—I heard the deposition read over; they didn't ask me to say if it was correct before I signed it—the place where I saw the prisoner wheeling the barrow was a mile from where I lost it—I had not lost it five minutes—I had gone along the road from the place I lost it to where I saw him; I met him with it; he was coming to meet us—I was very much worried and confused when I found my barrow was gone.
Re-examined. I first met the prisoner 200 yards from the Woodman—I had half of four ale at the Woodman.
GEORGE HEADING (Policeman M 230). On 8th August, about 9 o'clock, I was in the Rotherhithe New Road at the top of the Raymouth Road—the last witness came up to me crying—I saw the prisoner coming along with the barrow towards me up the Rotherhithe New Road and away from the Woodman, about half a mile from it—as soon as Tilling went across the road to him he dropped the barrow and ran—Tilling called out "Stop him"—I ran after him and brought him back—the prisoner said he found the barrow outside the public-house, and was going to take it to
the police-station—the nearest police-station is Rotherhithe; he was going away from that.
Cross-examined. There is a police-station at Upper Grange Road—to go there he should have turned down Raymouth Road, he was going towards the Old Kent Road, he could get to it down the next turning—the barrow was pointing in that direction—that would be the nearest way to the Upper Grange Road station, and that would be as near a station as the other—he was going in the direction of a road that would have taken him to the Upper Grange Road Station.
Re-examined. He ran away directly Tilling ran towards him.
Before Mr. Justice Charles.
MR. TICKELL Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
WILLIAM GRAHAM . I am a plumber—I live at 31, Ashbury Road, Rye Lane, Peckham—on Saturday night, 28th July, about a quarter past 8, I was in the High Street, Peckham, standing on a "rest," in the middle of the street, opposite Rye Lane, where the 'buses and cars stop—while there, I saw a tram car come from Westminster to New Cross—I saw a lady get out on the near side of the car—she came to the off side of the car on the down line, and stood on the metals—at that moment a Hansom's cab, driven by the prisoner, came from New Cross, going towards London at a very rapid pace, as if he was going to run into the car—he knocked the woman down, driving her about 10 feet—her right leg laid on the off side metals of the down line, and the wheel of the cab went over it—I made for the lady to pick her up; finding the cab did not stop I at once gave chase—the lady was, I think, about 3 feet from the back of the tram car—the cab was going in the direction of London—the prisoner did not seem to be keeping the direct course; he ought to have been on the side nearest the "rest;" he seemed to drive on the down line, and drove into the car—the "rest" stands in the middle of a very wide opening—the distance between the tramcar and the pavement, on the side on which the Hansom was driving, is about 60 feet—I made this plan (produced) the day after the affair, and the police plan was made afterwards; they have seen my plan.
JOHN GEORGE (Policeman P 432). I have made a plan of the place (produced), it is an accurate one—the distance from the pavement to the tram is 16ft. 11in., from the near side to the down trams width of tramway 4ft. 8in., space between the tramways 4ft. 6in., from the "rest" to the up-rail would be 19ft.—that cabstand is called a triangle; the distance from the triangle to the scene of the accident is 124 yards, from where the accident occurred to where the cab was stopped was 118 yards.
Cross-examined. I was on duty in this neighbourhood—I have not been
in that locality on Saturday nights—I cannot say if costermongers have their barrows on both sides of the road on Saturday nights.
WILLIAM GRAHAM (Re-examined). The prisoner was driving at a pace of, I should say, nine miles an hour—I saw two gentlemen in the cab after I stopped it—I cried out to the cabman to stop, and ran after him, holloaing as loud as I could—I was within almost touching the rail of his "dickey" to lay hold of it—I was nearly done up—I said to him "Mate, stop! you have run over that woman"—he turned round to me and told me to go to b----y—I thought he whipped the horse, but he must have slashed it with the reins—after I spoke to him the horse went about the same pace—other people joined in the chase through my holloaing—he was stopped by the mob—I got up to him and held the horse's head—he was stopped about 165 yards from the accident—I asked him for his number when he was brought back—he would not give it to me, but waved it about—I did not see his number—he had got his badge in his hand—he was drunk, and his fare also—the woman was afterwards put in the cab and driven off—his fare urged him to give his number and get away—by the force of the mob the woman was got into the cab and taken to a doctor—I took the number of the cab, 12,711—as far as I could see there was nothing in the way to compel him to go so near the tramway; the coast was perfectly clear, not even a second car was in the way.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner slash the horse, but he struck it with something—he was on his right side, near the Adam and Eve—the tramcar was coming towards him—the lady got out at the tail end of the car—as the prisoner was driving, the tram car was between her and him—the "rest" where I was standing is almost opposite where the tail end of the tram stopped—I was standing 28ft. from the car—I looked at the car before the accident happened—the matter occurred in a second of time—I know the neighbourhood perfectly well—on Saturday nights there is a great market held higher up the street—in the direction the prisoner was driving he would leave this market 60 yards behind him—he had passed the crowded part of the thoroughfare—there are a great many costermongers' barrows on one side of the road, and also on the Adam and Eve side—on the prisoner's near side there would be shops and people—if the prisoner had driven to the middle of the road he would have done right and would have avoided the accident—a butcher was celebrating the opening of his shop by a band of music—that was about 100 yards from where the accident was—I measured it by striding my legs—the butcher's shop is on the left hand side, going towards London—the band was playing loudly—the horse was going along very fast; I should say it was galloping at the rate of nine miles an hour—I say this man was drunk—I do not say he was incapable—I do not think he was a fit person to be with a cab—the length of time between the accident and the time the lady was put in the cab was about thirteen minutes—that was not long enough for a drunken man to get sober—there were no police to be found; they were not there—the mob forced the lady into the cab, and they forced the prisoner to take her—she was driven to Dr. Shillingworth's—I went to the station to give information.
Re-examined. The tram car arrived at this stopping-place a minute before the accident happened—there were passengers alighting and getting in—I did not see any other cab—when I first saw the cab it was
about two lengths of the car in front of it—it was clear of the down tram line—I had not seen the cab driving up the road, because there is a bend in the road—when I first saw the cab it was off the metals of the up-line.
WILLIAM BRADFORD . I live at 69, Rye Lane, Peckham—I am a mason—on the 28th July, about quarter past 8 o'clock, I was in Rye Lane with my daughter—I put her into a car from London to New Cross—it was standing still—I had not seen the lady who was killed—I saw a cab coming from New Cross towards London, driven by the prisoner—it was coming very close to the car, so that it nearly touched me—I was by the side of the car handing my daughter into it—I was on the off side of the car, standing at the back part of the car towards London—the cab crossed the up line in the direction of the down line—the cabman shouted out as he passed me "Get out of the way," or something of that kind, in a roughish sort of way—I turned round and looked at the cab, and I saw a lady lying across the rails, and I saw the wheels pass over her leg—I shouted after the cab—I said "Stop him, he has rode over a lady"—he did not take the slightest notice—he was chased and brought back after some time—he appeared to have had some drink, but I should not like to swear that he was drunk; he was excited—the lady was put in the cab and driven away, and I gave information—the prisoner said to a man who got on the step, "You stick to me and see me righted"—he whispered something else first, but those words I distinctly heard.
Cross-examined. The horse was trotting very rapidly; it was too quick for the place—I said before the Coroner "The horse was trotting quickly; if it had been a clear neighbourhood the pace would not have been too quick"—there was no traffic at all on his near side—the tram car had steps which go up to the roof—you can get to the steps from either side of the car—the steps would be on the left side as you got in—I put my daughter in the car on the off side—I did not see which side the lady got out till I saw her knocked down—I fix the pace as a good pace—my reason for saying he had been drinking is because he was excited as he came back—he came back with a great crowd of people; they were all holloaing at him, and there was a great deal of confusion and excitement—my other reason for saying he was the worse for drink was his general conduct—he refused to turn the fare out, and assist the lady into the cab, and this put the people out—I believe the fares were pulled out—I just caught sight of him driving the lady away; he was then driving quietly and in a proper manner—that was about thirteen minutes after the accident.
CHARLES HEWITT . I was at the bottom of Rye Lane on the evening of 28th July, about twenty minutes past 8—I caught a glimpse of the cab at the corner, and I saw it knock the woman down—I picked her up and took her on to the pavement—I bandaged her leg and stopped the bleeding—when I had finished I saw the cab brought back—I asked the prisoner to draw his cab up—there were two fares inside—I said "You had better take this lady to the hospital, and I will go with you"—there was some altercation about the fares, and then the crowd came and pulled them out—after the fares were taken out I got into the cab to receive the lady from the crowd—I took her to Dr. Shillingworth; he put the wound in splints; I helped him to do so—I then took her to
Lumber Court, in St. Martin's Lane, near Charing Cross, that is where Mr. Portwine lives—she was taken afterwards to Charing Cross Hospital.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had an altercation with his fares—my opinion was they would not pay him—he drove to Dr. Shillingworth's; that is about 50 or 60 yards from the accident—I was in the cab holding the old lady's leg in my hand—I do not say the prisoner was drunk, but he seemed stupid; he was excited as if he had two or three glasses of beer, and had not recovered from it.
ROBERT PORTWINE . I live at 82, Crystal Palace Road, East Dulwich—I am a butcher—the deceased was my grandmother—she was 74 years old—on the 28th July I saw her all day until 7 o'clock in the evening—she then started to go to Peckham—she was in the habit of going by herself every Saturday—she was a very active woman—later in the evening I saw her in a cab—she was brought to my house in Lumber Court—the doctor saw her, and she was taken to Charing Cross Hospital—I afterwards saw her in bed there—I saw her on the day of the inquest, about a month after the accident—I saw the prisoner when he was brought back—he was what I term silly drunk.
Cross-examined. He was not staggering drunk, not speechlessly drunk; he talked in a very silly manner; he might have been excited—he was very stupid in his talk—he gave me the impression of a man who had had two or three glasses of beer—he had a man on the step behind—I cannot say whether he drove; I believe the prisoner was holding the reins—the other man got down; I do not know who he was—I first saw the prisoner when he went round to the cab doors—he tried to assist my grandmother out of the cab, but I pushed him back—after he came round to the shop I made up my mind he was drunk—he kept repeating "It was not my fault, missus"—he told me he was a butcher, and wanted to shake hands with everybody in the shop.
CARTHEW DAVEY . I was house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital on the 28th July—the woman Ann Bowley was admitted there on that evening—she had a compound fracture of the right leg, a sprain on the left ankle, and a bruise on the lower part of the back—I set the leg—she went on very well for about two weeks—I then had to amputate the leg, because of threatened mortification and non-union—after that she went on fairly well for a week; then she "went down the hill," and died at the end of that week, on the 25th August—the cause of death was the sloughing of the flaps after amputation—the amputation was necessary in consequence of the threatening state of the wound.
ARTHUR TRICKER . I live at 41, Hardcastle Street, Peckham—I am a cab driver—this cab, 12711, is the one which I drive—I drove it on the 28th July—on that day I went home to tea about 6.10 in the evening, leaving my cab on the rank in the Triangle, Peckham—about two hours later I returned and found the cab was gone—I did not give permission to the prisoner or anybody else to drive it—about 11.50 that night I found it at the Greyhound public-house, Hill Street, Peckham—I found the prisoner inside the house—a constable came up, and took him to the station.
Cross-examined. I saw him in the Greyhound about 11.50—that is about 10 or 12 feet from where my cab put up—it is a house used by cabmen—as far as I know he had driven the cab back from Charing
Cross—he then appeared to me to be sober, but he was excited over the affair—he is a licensed cabman—the police asked me to come to the station; they detained the prisoner there for three-quarters of an hour—they wanted me to charge him with stealing my horse and cab—I saw he had only used it, and I declined to charge him.
CHARLES STEVENS (Police Inspector). On the 30th July I took the prisoner into custody—he was charged with recklessly driving, and causing bodily hurt to Ann Rowley, in High Street, Peckham, on the 28th July—he made no answer to the charge.
CHARLES HEWITT (Re-examined). The lady was not taken out of the cab and brought into Dr. Shillingworth's—he attended her in the cab—she was not able to be brought out—I could not say if Dr. Shillingworth spoke to the prisoner—he was in the prisoner's company a quarter of an hour; the binding took that time—the prisoner was standing by.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POLAND Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON Defended.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy. — One Month's Imprisonment.
911. ARTHUR BOURNE (31) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously shooting at Herbert Wright with intent to prevent his lawful apprehension, also to shooting at Mark Jenkins with a like intent; also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of James William Biddle, and stealing 2l., 500 cigars and other property; also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Frederick Trodd, and stealing a revolvor and other articles; also to a previous conviction of burglary on 5th August, 1879, in the name of Thomas Monck.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude. The Grand Jury in this case expressed their high opinion of the bravery exhibited by the officers Wright and Jenkins in apprehending the prisoner.—The Court, concurring in this, ordered them a reward of 5l. each.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. KETTLE Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
ALFRED ROLLS . I live at Sutton, in Surrey—on Friday night, 15th June, I dined with a friend at Simpson's—we afterwards went to the Empire Theatre—we there met Harcourt, and another woman, named Prior, and went with them to 24, Oakley Street—I missed my friend in the house—I was talking to Harcourt, and said I wanted to find my friend—while talking to her I heard a click—I looked down and saw my watch in her hand, I called out—she placed the watch in the breast of her dress—when I called out Arthur Wallace came up and said, "What's the matter"—I saw Harcourt pass the watch to him—I said, "I shall go down and find a policeman"—I went down and found a constable at the door and told him I had been robbed of my watch—we went up stairs, and the constable said, "Is this the woman that took your watch?" I said, "Yes"—he said, "Do you charge her?"—I said "Yes"—we then went to the police station, the constable, Harcourt, myself, and my friend—I gave
Harcourt in charge, and then went home—this is my watch (produced)—the inspector showed it me some few days after—I value it at 65 guineas.
Cross-examined. We had champagne at Simpson's, and cold whiskey and water afterwards—I had no Empire champagne to my knowledge, I do not remember it—I do not know Leo's—I do not remember having port there—I do not remember going to the Alliance in Oxford Street—it did not strike me to tell the police that night that Wallace took my watch—I did not tell the constable that I saw the woman hand it to the man, because it did not cross my mind at the moment—Wallace was taken into custody next day—I did not say at the police court I could not be sure whether I saw Wallace take the watch or not; it was when the police told me to charge him—the police suggested that I should charge Wallace on the Saturday—this happened on Friday—it was not my own suggestion to charge Wallace—although I saw him with the watch in his hand, it did not strike me at the time—I don't recollect saying I was not sure whether it was Wallace or not—I did not see Mrs. Wallace at all that night to my knowledge—when I was crying out "Murder" and "Thieves" Wallace did not bundle me back into the room on the first floor—he let me come into the passage—he put no obstruction in my way in communicating with the police.
Re-examined. I charged Wallace at the suggestion of the police—I had given information about Wallace.
FLORENCE HARCOURT (The prisoner). Up to the 15th June I was living at 24, Oakley Street—I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—on Friday night, 15th June, I was at the Empire Theatre; I left there with Mr. Rolls and went to the Alliance Hotel, Oxford Street; we did not stop there, but went to Oakley Street—before I went out that night Wallace said something to me—when we got to Oakley Street I and Mr. Rolls went upstairs into the front first-floor bedroom; about ten or five minutes afterwards I took his watch; then I think he shouted "Thieves" and "Murder"—Mr. and Mrs. Wallace rushed upstairs, and I opened the front room door, and Mr. Rolls said "She has taken my watch"—Mrs. Wallace said "She could not do such a thing," meaning me—I had the watch in my hand at the time; I gave it to Mr. Wallace—then the policeman was called in and I went to the station with him, and Mrs. Wallace followed—I confessed—it was my intention to give it back again—I put the watch in the flower-pot—I gave the watch to Mr. Wallace, who put it in a flower pot; then he trod on my foot and indicated to me not to leave it there, and I took it from that flower-pot and put it in another flower-pot on the landing while the prosecutor was fetching the policeman; afterwards I took it in my room and put it in another flower-pot—I know nothing more about it.
Cross-examined. Mr. Rolls and I had a bottle of champagne at the Empire—we went to Lao's, next door, and had part—we did not go inside the Alliance—Mr. Rolls was much the worse for drink—I intended to give the watch to Mr. Wallace—when I found myself caught and I was at the station, I intended to give it back to Mr. Rolls, and I should have, if my friend had fetched it—when I told the story at the police-court about Mr. Wallace taking the watch, I believe he denied it, and said it was a tissue of lies; I heard him—Mrs. Wallace added some more to it, which was against me—I have not felt angry towards her at all—Mrs. Wallace was on the landing just by when the watch was
being taken—I have lived there six weeks—they are husband and wife, as far as I know—a man and his wife lived in the house as well, and a lady named Safford, and Lilian Prior—I did not tell Lilian Prior or Safford that I had put the watch among the nasturtiums or mignonette, or in the flower-pot—she went outside and told Mrs. Wallace where it was, she saw me put the watch in the flower-pot; she was standing by when I handed it to Wallace, she did not see it that I am aware of; she was not in the room when it was taken; she came out of the room with Mr. Roll's friend who sat on the stairs.
Re-examined. Just before I went to the Empire that night Wallace said to me "We are very short of money," and he told us to go to the Empire, me and my friend, and said "If you meet with any one bring him home," as a customer, "as I want some money to-night, or some jewellery;" he had got some rates or something to pay, and he said if I told of him that he would throw vitriol over me.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I said that same story at the police-court, and Wallace contradicted it and said it was a tissue of lies; I should not have taken the watch only I had to pay for the use of the front room.
CHARLES WYNN (Policeman K 444). On 15th June, about 10 p.m., I was in Oakley Street on duty, and saw the prosecutor standing against the door of a cab—he said "Constable, I have had my watch stolen"—I said "Where?" he said "In there"—I said "Who by?" he said "A young woman"—I went in and saw Miss Prior, the two Wallaces, and Harcourt—I said "Who is the person that stole your watch?"—he pointed to Harcourt—I told her I should take her into custody for stealing the gentleman's watch, and I searched the room but could not find the watch—I took her to the station—on the way she said she did not steal it, and she said, in answer to the charge, that she did not steal it—the prosecutor was under the influence of drink at the time; he was not hopelessly drunk—I wanted to search the place, his wife held Wallace back two or three times, or else he would have got at me.
LILIAN PRIOR . I am a single woman, living at 24, Oakley Street—on 15th June I was at the Empire, and met the prosecutor and another man—I came back with them and Harcourt to 24, Oakley Street—we called at the Alliance, but did not stop there—at Oakley Street I heard cries of "Murder" from the room the prosecutor was in—I went out to see what was the matter, and I saw Rolls and Harcourt there, and a few minutes afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Wallace—at the police-station Harcourt called me and told me something, in consequence of which I said to Mrs. Wallace "For God's sake go and fetch the watch and Florence will be let out"—I told her where to fetch it from, but she knew already—Mrs. Wallace said "You stay here and get Florence some supper, I will go and fetch the watch."
Cross-examined. I asked Harcourt if she had the watch, and she said at the time she had not; she said she had put it in the nasturtium box—I did not see her put it there—Mrs. Wallace went to fetch the watch about half an hour after it was taken.
Re-examined. Harcourt said Mrs. Wallace did not know anything about the watch—she said she had it and would give it up in the morning—he said nothing about giving it up.
NOT GUILTY .
HARCOURT— Two Days' Imprisonment.
MR. MOYSES Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
CHARLES RAINBOW . I live at Woodbine Cottage, Norwood, and am a donkey keeper—on the night of August 23rd my sons complained to me, and I ran after some chaps—one of them ran into the defendant's shop—I followed him, knocked at the door, and asked for Mr. Leach, who came out, and I said "One of your sons has been hitting my boy"—he said "Stop a minute, and I will b----soon settle with you," and offered to fight me—I said "I have not come for that; I have come to speak to you in a civil way"—he went indoors, and came out with a white-handled knife in his hand and stabbed me in my left eye—I fell back, and they picked me up—I saw one of the prisoner's sons take the knife from him—I was taken to the hospital, and my eye was taken out.
Cross-examined. When I went to the prisoner's house my son-in-law was not with me, but he was fetched—he had no stick or whip—one of my two little sons had a stick and the other a whip; they assist in the donkey driving; one is five and the other eleven—I am not aware that they used the stick or whip—I was perfectly sober—I did not see a person named Bennett strike me—I did not knock at the prisoner's door three times with my foot, nor did I when he came out, call him a b----old s----; I said "Good evening"—I did not challenge him to fight, nor did he take off his coat to fight with me—I could not see to go to the police-station till I was led away—I did not stand there a quarter of an hour using had language—I was not drunk, but the constable may have thought I was, from the effects of the stab—I did not see Violet Brazier there.
GEORGE RAINBOW . I am 11 years old, and live with my father—I went with him to Mr. Leach's about 10.30 p.m.—he said "Good evening," and Mr. Leach said "Good evening"—my father spoke to him about his son hitting me—Leach said "It is not my son"—my father said "It is"—Leach said "I will soon quiet your voice"—he walked indoors quick, and brought out a large white-handled knife, and swore and said "Take that"—my father said "You have stabbed me," and fell on the ground, and blood came on his face, and I took a pocket hand-kerchief and wiped it—Leach's son took the knife away.
Cross-examined. The prisoner began to take his coat off; my father did not—the police came three-quarters of an hour after my father was stabbed—my father was walking up and down outside Leach's house three-quarters of an hour after he was stabbed—he could not get up till I helped him up—I had a stick and my brother a whip (produced)—the whip was used after my father got the stab.
Re-examined. My brother, who had the whip, is younger than me; he is five years old.
THOMAS COLLIER (Policeman P 153). I was off duty, and was called—I was told a man had been stabbed—Rainbow was going home—I called him back—he made a complaint, and I found a little blood on his face coming from a wound under his eye—I knocked at the prisoner's door, and said "What is the grievance you have against this man?"—he said "He came to my house, kicked three times, enough to knock the door down, and accused my boy of hitting his boy; he pulled his coat off
and threw it down on the footpath, and challenged me to fight; I said 'Come to-morrow morning'; he said 'No, I will have it out to-night,' and he came and made a grab at me, but missed me and struck my wife across her face"—we went to the station, and the surgeon said, in the prisoner's presence, that the wound on the prosecutor's face was caused by some sharp instrument, and it was impossible that it could have been done by a fist—the prisoner said "I stepped back in the passage, and doubled up my sleeves."
Cross-examined. The prisoner was perfectly sober—Rainbow did not appear sober, and he smelt of drink—Violet Brazier came to the station that night, and told me she had been a witness to the transaction, and that the prosecutor was the aggressor, challenging the prisoner to fight, and that there was a tussle, but nothing was used but the fists—he has lived there two or three years.
JAMES RADOUT HARRIS . I am a surgeon, of West Norwood—I examined Rainbow's left eye, and found it wounded—the sight was gone entirely, and the eye-ball had to be removed to save the other eye—the wound would be caused by anything sharp, not by a fist.
Cross-examined. By a wound I mean that the skin was severed and blood flowing—the sharp end of a stick would do it, and would be more likely to do it than a whip—I saw him about three-quarters of an hour after the injury—I have said that it might have been caused by a finger only, but I withdraw that.
Re-examined. A whip would have to be used with considerable force, and I do not consider that it was done with a whip.
Witnesses for the Defence.
VIOLET BRAZIER . I am single, and live at 207, Romany Road, West Norwood—I have known the prisoner eight years—on the evening of 23rd August I saw the prosecutor; he was drunk, and could hardly walk straight, and was using most obscene language—he went straight up to Mr. Leach's door, and kicked it three or four times with great force—he had two boys with him, one with a whip and the other with a stick—Mr. Leach opened the door, and the prosecutor said "Your b----boys have robbed my boys"—the prisoner said "Man, you must be mad; I have no boys; my sons are all grown up"—he said "You are a b----old liar and a b----old thief," and caught hold of Leach, and challenged him to fight, and Leach struck him in the face, I think—the boys used the whip and stick on the prisoner, and not hitting him then, but hitting Mrs. Leach on her forehead—Mr. Leach had nothing in his hand—after the prosecutor was struck he remained there about 20 minutes using bad language—some persons took him across a field, and bound a handkerchief across his face—a constable came up, and I told him my story, which is true.
Cross-examined. I was talking to Mrs. Leach at the time—I was there when Rainbow came up—Leach's door was shut, and there was no light there—I am a friend of theirs—I saw Leach doubling up his sleeves, not getting ready to fight, but I suppose they were dirty; he had just come in—he had them tucked up before Rainbow challenged him—it was after he was called a liar that Leach struck him in the face.
By the COURT. I know that his eye is destroyed—I think the whip or the stick did that, because they both stood in front of their father shouting at Mrs. Leach, and cut their father's eye accidentally.
Norwood, next door to Leach—I was at my door and saw Rainbow pass with two lads; they returned and went to Leach's shop—the door was closed, he kicked it violently several times—Leach came to the door, and Rainbow asked him if his boy was in the shop, and said "Your boy has been robbing my boys"—Leach said "I have no boys, you must have made a mistake"—he said "No, I have not, you b----old thief," and challenged Leach to fight; he declined—Rainbow took off his coat and put himself in a fighting attitude—Leach stood in his doorway till Rainbow made a run at him and caught hold of him with one hand, and Leach struck back in self-defence in his face—he had nothing in his hand—only one blow was struck—the two boys ran at Leach at the same time and struch out with a stick and a whip—there were three on Leach—after that Leach stood at his door a few minutes and then went inside—I went to the station the same evening and made the same statement as I have made to-day—Rainbow was the worse for drink—he mentioned a man named Bennett and said "That is the man," pointing to a man in light clothes.
Cross-examined. When Rainbow first passed Leach's shop the door was open, but he did not go in; it was shut when he returned—I did not see who closed it—if Miss Brazier swears that it was open when he first passed, that is not correct—the whole affair took about a quarter of an hour—they both swore at one another—Rainbow did not say anything about being knifed or stabbed till afterwards; he wiped his eye—the blow did not knock him down—it is untrue to say that his son helped him up—he did not help him at all; the man was on his feet—Rainbow said "You have done it this time"—Leach rolled his shirt sleeves up as he stood at the door.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. Before he used strong language he had been called a b----y old liar—I only saw one blow struck, and the fist had nothing in it.
THOMAS STURGES LEACH . I am the prisoner's son; I am a carpenter and joiner—I was sitting with him in the parlour behind the shop and heard a banging and kicking at the door—he got up and opened it, and asked Rainbow what he wanted—he said "Where are those boys who ran in here?"—he said "What boys? We have no boys in here"—he said "You have"—Leach said "I've not; my youngest son is 18; what have the boys been doing?"—Rainbow said "Robbing my boys"—Leach said "We have no boys here"—Rainbow said "You have, you are a b----old liar"—Leach said "Who do you call a b----old liar?" Rainbow said "You are, and a b----old thief, and if you come out here I will fight you"—he struck my father, and my father hit him in self-defence—while the blows were being struck I heard blows from a stick and a whip—I did not see the two boys—my father had nothing in his hand, and he did not strike till he was called names.
Cross-examined. I did not go out at first, not till my father had shut the door and come in—we were not having a meal, there were no knives and forks on the table—we did not have our supper till afterwards.
J. R. HARRIS (Re-examined). I saw no bruise of a fist on Rainbow's face—I examined him, I think now, less than three-quarters of an hour afterwards—there would be immediate evidence of the discoloration from a blow.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding after serious provocation .— Judgment respited.
MR. WALKER Prosecuted.
JOHN VOYSEY . I am a cabinet maker, working for Mr. Richards, of 7, Victoria Road, Peckham—on August 29th about 12.30 I sent the prisoner for a quartern of gin, and drank half of it with some water—I put the remainder on a shelf over the bench in the shop—about 6.30 I went to drink some more, but did not like the taste of it and spit it out—it tasted of spirits of salts, which are used in the business—I washed my mouth out, sent for the prisoner, and told him he had been putting spirits of salts in my gin—he said "No, I aint," I asked him again and he made no answer.
By the COURT. I have charged him with stealing 20s. of mine (See last case), that was the day after this, but I lost it on the same day between 12 and 6.30.—I found as much gin in the bottle at 6.30 as I expected
FREDERICK BARTON (Detective P). On August 30th I went to Mr. Richards' works, called the prisoner into the shop, and Mr. Voysey said, "I will give you in custody for stealing a sovereign out of my pocket, and also for attempting to poison me by putting spirits of salts into my gin"—I said to the prisoner "Now this is a very serious matter, be careful what you say, for what you do say will be used as evidence against you"—he said "I confess to putting that into his gin, but it was done in play, I am a teetotaler myself, and I don't like to see him drink spirits"—I took the words down—I said "Well, what money have you got about you, it is a very serious matter, and I am going to search you"—he said "I have none"—I searched him on the spot, and found three boxes of lucifer matches, in one of which was a half-sovereign, in another two separate shillings, and in the third 4s. 6d.—he then said "I did steal the sovereign, and I am very sorry and beg his pardon, please don't lock me up"—I took charge of this bottle, and also another bottle containing spirits of salts—my inspector sealed them down, and I took them to an analyist, who retained them."
JOHN OLDEN BRAITHWAITE . I am an analyst of the firm of Wright, Layman, and Umney, and have been so upwards of eight years—Sergeant Partridge handed me two bottles, but one of them has been broken—I marked them 331 1 and 338 2—one was a quartern bottle, and contained nine drachms, which I found to consist of a mixture of gin and hydrochloric acid in a free state; the other contained strong hydrochloric acid, but not so strong as it should be, because it had been imperfectly kept—if the whole of this mixture was taken on an empty stomach it would be injurious to health; it would produce irritation and inflammation.
FREDERICK WILLIAM PARR . I am a surgeon, of 175, Kennington Road—I have heard the evidence of the last witness—the mixture, if taken, would produce sickness, and probably diarrhœa, great discomfort, but nothing serious.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not intend to kill him, but to cure him of drinking gin.
GUILTY.— Strongly recommended to mercy on account of his y Judgment respited.
MR. PARKS Prosecuted; MR. WILDEY WRIGHT Defended.
JOHN BROWN . I am a miller, of Uxbridge—on September 7th, about 11.30, I was outside the Borough Market—I put the nosebag on my pony, and left him and the coat in charge of the horse minder—I returned at 1.15, and they were gone; they were worth 20l.—I know nothing of the prisoner.
Cross-examined. This was on a Friday, which is sometimes a busy day, and when there is much traffic, carts are moved by order of the police.
Re-examined. The police would find the owner, and cause him to do it.
SAMUEL ARTHUR BATTENDEN . Mr. Brown left his pony and cart in my charge on September 7th—I saw the prisoner leading them away, and called to him, but got no answer—I followed him to the corner of Winchester Street, out of the market, about 100 yards from the spot, and said "Where are you going with that pony and cart?"—he said "Jack told me to move it from where it was, and he has gone to Billingsgate to buy some fish"—Jack is the owner—the name on the cart was "John Brown, Uxbridge"—I never saw the prisoner before.
Cross-examined. Carts are not moved to the side streets without a policeman's orders—I was 30 yards from the prisoner when he took them away—he did it openly; they were not at all in the way—there was only one other cart there.
STEPHEN WEBB (Policeman). I saw the prisoner standing at the corner of Storey Street and Winchester Street—he saw me, and ran away—I took him, and told him the charge—he said that he moved it for a man whom he knew who had gone into Billingsgate Market—I found these two papers on him.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that a man asked him to shift the pony and cart to the place where they were found.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
921. JOHN TERROAD (23) and FRANK MERCE (45) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Bishop, and stealing a hat and other articles, his property.— Ten Months' Hard Labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
922. ERNEST PRING (21) to forging and uttering a receipt for money, with intent to defraud; also to receiving a tricycle, the property of Frederick Appleridge, knowing it to have been stolen; also to three indictments for stealing tricycles from other persons.— Twenty Months'
Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
923. GEORGE HEAD (31) and JOSEPH PEARCE (18) to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Kate Adams, and stealing a telescope and other articles. HEAD** also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in January, 1886.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. PEARCE**†— Ten Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. GRAZEBROOK Prosecuted; MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and KEELING
CHARLES COOK . I am assistant to William Hurlock, a draper, of the Walworth Road—at 4 o'clock on Sunday morning, 26th August, I was called by two constables—I went down, and found two constables with Ward in custody—they said he had been with three others trying to break the door open—Ward said nothing—I examined the door, and found about 10 marks near the lock on the door-post, and the glass at the top of the door broken—I went to the station and charged Ward, who said he had made a mistake; he was going home to North Street—on the Saturday night I heard the housekeeper bolt the door, and the glass was all right then.
WILLIAM ALSTON . I am a gasfitter, of 71, Great Bland Street, Southwark—on this Sunday morning, about half-past 3, I was leaving a shopmate in Caroline Court, at the corner of which is Hurlock's shop—I saw four men standing close up against the doorway, and moving about in a suspicious manner—I went indoors with my friend, and came out again at a quarter to 4—the men evidently caught sight of some one coming the other way, and said "Don't come this way"—I recognise Ward; he was never lost sight of when I chased him—I cannot exactly recognise any of the others—a constable came up; I spoke to him, and then I pursued Ward 40 to 50 yards—he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by Ward. I never lost sight of you—I could not recognise your face; your back was turned to me.
WILLIAM COX (Policeman P 372). About 3 o'clock on the morning of Sunday, 26th August, I was at the corner of the Walworth and New Kent Roads, when I saw the three prisoners and another man going down the New Kent Road and examining locks on three or four shop doors as they went along—I followed them; they turned up Station Road, and I lost sight of them—I worked my beat, and came back into Walworth Road again at about a quarter to 4—I saw a man come and look out of Caroline Court—I went towards him, and heard a whistle, and saw two men leave the court—Millen was one of them—as I got to the corner of the court, Ward and Millen came out—Alston said "Policeman, the door is open"—the prisoners could hear that distinctly—they were half across the road—the moment they heard him say the door was open they ran away—I ran 20 or 30 yards, and caught Ward—Alston ran after the other prisoners, who went through a street which brought them into Newington Butts—I took Ward back to the shop—about 11.30 on Sunday night Matthews was brought by another constable
into Rodney Road Police-station, and I at once identified him as one of the men—I had seen him frequently before that night, a dozen times a night perhaps all the time I was on the beat—all of them are about there till 3 o'clock in the morning—when I got back to the door I found the fanlight broken and about a dozen marks on the door and door-post near the lock corresponding with one another—the lock was broken, the bolts were open, and the door as far open as the chain would allow it to be—I noticed Ward's back was covered with whitewash, and I noticed that the porch had been recently whitewashed—I called up Cook, who came to the station and charged Ward—Ward said "You have made a mistake, constable; I was going home"—on searching Ward I found a key—when Matthews was charged he made no reply—I afterwards went out in plain clothes, and on Wednesday, 29th August, I saw Millen standing outside the Black Prince public-house, Walworth Road—I crossed over to him, and said "Curly, I want you; I shall take you into custody for being concerned with three more in attempting to break into 35, Walworth Road on Sunday morning"—he said "All right"—after a little while he said "You want two more, don't you?"—I said "No, one will satisfy me now I have got you"—he said "Don't you think that he is going to run into your arms"—on the road to the station we passed his sister, who said "You are going then, Charlie?"—he said "Yes, Emma; make haste home; you understand"—he made no reply to the charge at the station—I found a knife and a key on him.
Cross-examined by MR. KEELING. I was watching them examining the locks 10 or 15 yards away—Matthews lives in the neighbourhood, and is always around—it was breaking daylight, a dry night; it was not getting daylight when I first saw them, but there was light enough—there are a lot of lamps about there—Alston shouted out so that the prisoners could hear, and they then all ran away.
Cross-examined by Millen. Your sister did not say to me "Mr. Bowden, what has he done?"—I did not know you had a nickname Bowden for me.
GEORGE CLARK (Policeman L 313). I was at Newington Butts on this Sunday morning at 4 o'clock—I saw Matthews run down the Butts from the direction of the Walworth Road—I stopped him, and said "What is your hurry?"—he said "Nothing, governor; I am going home"—I looked at him, and let him go—I said "If I want you I can get you"—I had known him well for some time; I knew about where he lived—I did not know the house—afterwards, from information received, I went and arrested him in the New Kent Road at half-past 11—I told him the charge—he said "I was not there"—when charged at the station he made no reply—a latch-key, 10 guitar strings, and a knife were found on him—I was with Cox when Millen was arrested on Wednesday night.
Cross-examined by MR. KEITH FRITH. I sent for the constable who saw the four men on the night of the robbery—he was not asked about the light coat he had on the previous night—the constable said "There was another one that was with you with the light coat"—we have not arrested him yet—we never suggested that Matthews had a light coat—no instrument was found on him; we found nothing at his lodgings, no trace of
any property—when I stopped him running he was about 120 yards from the scene of the burglary; he was alone.
WILLIAM PANNETT (Police Inspector). About 5 o'clock, on 26th August, I examined Mr. Hurlock's premises after Ward was brought in—I found about a dozen marks, I should say from a jemmy, where the door had been forced, the fanlight over the door had been broken, no doubt to open the top bolt, which they could not force—the marks on the door correspond with marks on three other doors in the New Kent Road, the same district; some attempts had been made on the Sunday morning previous.
Ward before the Magistrate said: "I know no more about breaking into this shop than the dead in the grave."
Witness for the defence of Matthews.
ELIZABETH MATTHEWS . I am a dressmaker, living at 8, Longville Road, Newington Butts—I live in the same house with Matthews—on the Sunday he was arrested he was indoors by 3 o'clock that morning—he said he had been to a music-hall over the water, and that he had been late; I don't think he had been running—it is about a quarter of a mile from where the constable saw him to where we live—I was not present when inquiries were made about a light coat; the potman said afterwards he had a light coat on—the landlady is not here.
Cross-examined. I noticed the time when he came in by the clock in the room—on the Saturday night he went out about 7.30, and on Sunday night about the same time; he was taken that night.
Witness for the defence of Millen.
EVA MILLEN . I am Millen's mother; I am a widow living at 31, Uxbridge Street, Newington Causeway—I go charing—I went on the Saturday night before you were arrested to a confinement, and as I came along the Kent Road I called you away from some young chaps at a coffee-stall at half-past 1, and I wished them "Good night," and took you home.
Cross-examined. I work over the water, and am very late, and often he sits up for me—my daughter Emma is at work—I saw Millen go to bed, and fastened the door myself, so that I know he did not go out any more—I have a little house, and generally fasten up the street-door with a bolt from the inside—I next saw him when I gave him breakfast, about 9 o'clock on Sunday morning—I am positive he did not go out again that night; my mother was up from Brighton, so I slept on the couch in the room he sleeps in and my mother slept upstairs.
By the JURY. My house is about five minutes' walk from the place where the burglary was committed.
WILLIAM ALSTON (Re-examined). I had been with Joseph Horn to a friend's in Arnett Street, and I was saying "Good night" to him at his door—I was going to sleep with him, but I found he had not convenience for me, and then I saw these men at a quarter to 4.
Ward, in his defence, said he had been to a friendly meeting, and was coming home when he saw three men, one of whom asked him for a match; that he gave one, and then a constable came, and the men ran, and he was taken; and that the whitewash on his back must have come off the yard where they had had the jollification.
MATTHEWS and MILLEN— NOT GUILTY . WARD— GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
ALFRED REED . I am a carman, and live at 62, Palace Road, Hackney—on 19th July I met the prisoner about 10 p.m. in the Northumberland Arms, Wells Street, Hackney—he said "Can you get me a horse and van to do a moving job?"—I said "Yes"—he said he wanted it for 5 o'clock in the morning, and I asked him what it was for, and he said "To take three sewing machines away from Kennington Lane"—about a quarter to 6 next morning I met the prisoner and another man in Franklin Park Road—they got up in the van which I was driving, and the other man told me to drive to the Elephant and Castle—when I got there he told me to drive to Newington Butts, and to take the first turning on the right—I stopped at a public-house, and he told me to wait there three-quarters of an hour—when they came back the man not in custody said "There is no man there to help us move the things"—they were sewing machines he made out—he said "Pull the van up two or three doors, outside an empty house with a hoarding round it; I want you to help me out with the stuff"—I looked round the corner and saw a lot of lead, all rolled up, just round the hoarding, inside the building—they carried out the lead into the van—the man not in custody had a key, he unlocked the gate, and when we got the lead in the van the man not in custody shut the gate and told me to pull the van round and start for the Elephant and Castle—after we had driven off a man came up with a lot of keys in his hand and stopped the van—I was in the van alone then; the others were walking after it—he said "I want your name and address"—I said "You can take the name and address off the van," and as I said that the prisoner ran off—the other man stopped with me and gave a name and address—the gentleman left us; the man not in custody jumped in the van and told me to drive to Bermondsey after he gave the name and address—I drove to a ragshop named Salter's, near Conlon Street, Bermondsey, where the man not in custody sold it—he gave me 4s. for the van and 1s. 6d.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said my van would not hold more than half a ton—I did not see the other man give you anything—you ran off directly the caretaker came—you were near me when he came up, and you ran off—I knew where you lived—I was out of work and glad to earn 1s.—I have only known you about a year—I knew you to be honest; I never saw you steal anything before.
Re-examined. I took Mr. Pettiter's van; I have done odd jobs for him, he is a milkman—the prisoner hired it from Pettiter—they asked me to drive for them—the prisoner gave me 4s. for the hire of it, which I gave to Pettiter—the prisoner and the other man spoke to Pettiter; the prisoner said to Pettiter, "Dick, would you mind letting me have the horse and van?"—he said, "Yes, you can have it at any time in the morning"—that was the night before—the other man was with the prisoner when he asked me if I could get a van to do a moving job in the morning—the prisoner did not say to me a man had got a job for him in the morning—he said the van was for himself—he said "Can you get me a horse and van?"
July I saw the prisoner come out of the gate of the premises, and run away—I had stopped the van with the last witness about 20 yards away from where the man came out of the building where the lead was taken; there was a hoarding in front of the house—when I stopped the van the prisoner was in the place till he saw the van stopped, and then he ran away—all the lead off the gutters, about four and a half hundredweight, was taken—I afterwards examined the premises with a policeman, and found the guttering was all gone—it had been on the roof and round the dormer window—I had last seen it safe three days before—the kitchen window, and the shutter, were burst open—the place was uninhabited but secure—there is a door in the hoarding; they got in at that with a key—the value of the lead taken was about 5l.; about 15l. of damage was done, but the ceilings since this have all fallen down with the wet—I have since seen this lead at Kennington Lane, and taken it away, I identified it as the lead taken from this place—three days before the premises were all right.
By the COURT. I had the keys of the hoarding and the street door in my hand.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The shutters were burst open—I did not give my evidence at the police-court for three weeks.
JOHN THORLEY (Detective Constable). On 20th July, about 9.30 p.m., I went to 32, The Grove, Hackney, where I saw the prisoner in bed—I told him I was a police-officer and that I should take him into custody for being concerned with another man in stealing lead from the roof of 313, Kennington Road—he said "I know nothing about it"—I told him to get up—he did—I took him to the station—on the way he said "I might as well own to it, I was along with another man whom I met at Walworth yesterday, and who asked me if I wanted a job; I said that I did, and he then asked me to meet him at 7 o'clock the next morning at Kennington; I went there and met him, and assisted him in carrying out a lot of lead which I put in the van; when we had finished he gave me 2s. and I left; that is all I know about it"—we have tried to find the other man, he has gone to Manchester we believe.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "The other man paid me the 2s. and that was all I knew. This gentleman (Mr. Martin) told me he had not been in the house for a fortnight. It is not true that I ran away.
GEORGE MARTIN (Re-examined). The prisoner ran away—I was going to arrest the prisoner at once and stop the lead; the man not here said "I have been sent here to take it by my employer," and the policeman said "I cannot do anything, only take their names and addresses; it is all right."
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 22ND, 1888.