CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD MARCH 4TH, 1889.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
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OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
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CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, March 4th, 1889, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. JAMES WHITEHEAD , ESQ., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir JAMES CHARLES MATHEW , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., Alderman of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., Recorder of the City; STUART KNILL , Esq., GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., JOSEPH RENALS, Esq., WALTER HENRY WILKIN , Esq., and HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and 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.
FREDERICK KYNASTON METCALFE, Esq.,
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
WHITEHEAD, MAYOR. FIFTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, March 4th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
279. DANIEL NEALE (32) was indicted for unlawfully falsifying certain papers of Frederick William Watts, his employer; other Counts, for omitting to enter certain matters in the books of his said master.
MESSRS. GRAIN and TAYLOR Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
FREDERICK WILLIAM WATTS . I carry on business as Fred Watts and Co., merchant tailors, at Ludgate Hill, Edgware Road, and Tottenham Court Road—the prisoner has been in my service at Ludgate Hill for fifteen months—a considerable portion of my trade is in ready-made clothing, and a large stock is kept at Ludgate Hill—the prisoner was manager there, he had the sale of goods—if a customer came to purchase a ready-made suit the prisoner would show him the things, and after he had bought them it was his duty to make out a bill with a duplicate—it would be passed into the cash desk and filed—if a customer did not find a ready-made suit and ordered some to be made, the prisoner would make an entry of the order in the bespoke orders book of the class of cloth wanted and the price—this is the book—he would show patterns, and when a selection was made it would be his duty to purchase the length of material required from a wholesale house; he would receive the goods with an invoice, and would bring the cloth back to my establishment, to be made up and delivered to the customer—if a customer wanted a ready made article in a hurry and we had not got it, we should send to another house for it—the goods so obtained would be accompanied by an invoice—these five invoices (produced were received by our house from the respective firms mentioned—these initials "D. N." in the corner are the prisoner's, they are put for the purpose of vouching their accuracy—these invoices are compared with the statements sent in—I have looked in our
books and can find no entry of any of the goods included in these invoices having been sold—I cannot find one in the ready-made order-book or in duplicate, or in the bespoke book—we have been charged for the goods by Messrs. Bartram and Harvey.
Cross-examined. I was represented by Mr. Rowney, a solicitor, at the Mansion House; and all through the proceedings—I don't think I had a consultation with him before giving the prisoner into custody, possibly I had—I have a relation of Mr. Rowney's in my service—there were three remands before the Alderman—during that time I went over my books—the prisoner was sent for trial on three charges of larceny—there was no accusation then of falsifying the accounts; not till after the Grand Jury had found true bills for the larcenies—the prisoner had seven or eight assistants at Ludgate Hill—there are five departments—he had to manage them all, and had the entire responsibility—there was a cutter there, but not since November last year—with the exception of a few weeks, there was a cutter there during the whole of 1888—I can't say whether it was during those few weeks that the prisoner is accused of stealing these goods—if there was no cutter, he would send to the Edgware Road or Tottenham Court Road to have the garment cut out—if it required to be altered it would be done at Tottenham Court Road; it would not necessarily be taken there by the prisoner; if he did take it in his bag I should not complain—any of the assistants at Ludgate Hill would serve ready-made garments; everything is marked in plain figures—the customer would pay the cashier—it would be the prisoner's duty to take the money from the customer after having initialed the sale ticket—a clerk would make up the book from the ticket on the file—if the amount of the money did not tally with the ticket, either the clerk or the prisoner possibly would report it at Tottenham Court Road—Bartram and Harvey would not send their statements to Ludgate Hill, but to the central office; the prisoner would have no opportunity of tampering with them there—I go to the various branches to check their statements by the invoices, which should have been filed—Bartram and Harvey never send their invoices to any other branch but Ludgate Hill—there are wholesale clothiers with whom we deal; they pursue the same system—the whole sale statements would be sent to Tottenham Court Road—to check them we should have the invoices sent there—we are charged by Bartram and Harvey with certain goods, of which there are no entries in the books—Cannon keeps the books at Ludgate Hill—he has been with us since November, 1887—it would not be the assistants' duty to make the entry in the book—the prisoner would have to depend on the information by the assistant—two or three out of the five assistants would take orders; they might all serve ready-made clothes—the first invoice is dated August 10th—the statement sent included August 10th—we could find no invoice of that date; we wrote for a copy, and they sent one about September 10th—I did not see the prisoner about it, or ask him for any explanation—since he has been in custody he has had access to all the books he wished to see.
Re-examined. He has been out on bail, and has had access to all the books he required—he was responsible for the bespoke orders—it was his duty to make the entry in the bespoke book—when the statement of account comes in, we select the invoices at Tottenham Court Road from the other establishments—in the case of Bartram and Harvey, they sent
invoices; but not finding them we sent for copies, and those copies the prisoner initialed as being correct—I presume he did that from memory—he had a wide discretion at Ludgate Hill.
FRANK GEORGE HUGHES . I am in the employ of Bartram, Harvey and Co., of Gresham Street—we were in the habit of supplying the prisoner for the prosecutor with goods—I should say, by this invoice of 10th August, that goods were supplied to the prisoner—I can't say that I did it myself—on 10th October goods were supplied to the prisoner—we cannot recollect the individual transactions as to these particular invoices—on 1st January, 1889, I supplied the prisoner with goods mentioned in this invoice.
Cross-examined. I was not examined at the Mansion House—the amount of this invoice of 1st January is £1 17s. 10d. for coating and trousering.
ERNEST LEE BAKER . I am in the employ of Bartram, Harvey and Co.—among other books I kept the signature-book; this is it—it is a book in which persons sign for parcels which they take away—in the signature book of 10th August there is the signature "D. Neale"—on 24th October there is the signature of "Lander" for £13s. 10d.—that is for goods for Tottenham Court Road—on 31st October there is the signature of "D. Neale" for goods to the amount of 7s. 4d.—on 16th November there is an entry signed by D. Neale, and also on 1st January—I do not recollect supplying the goods on every occasion; I did on several occasions—I recollect seeing him make his signature.
Cross-examined. We supplied goods to Tottenham Court Road.
THOMAS NASH . I am in the employ of Cooper, Box and Co.—it is my duty to take the receipts of persons to whom goods are supplied—I have the book here—there is no signature of Neale's on October 1st—on 13TH August there is the signature, "D. Neale"—there is no amount mentioned. (MR. WATTS. "That is the prisoner's signature.")
THOMAS CUNNINGTON . I am in the employ of George Smith and Sons, wholesale furriers, of Watling Street—I have here our parcels book—on 22nd September here is an entry signed "D. Neale" for goods sent on approval (MR. WATTS "That is the prisoner's signature.")
Cross-examined. He had one fur cloak on approval on 26th October—this is my invoice for it.
Cross-examined. We always allow Watts and Co. a trade discount—we should not serve the prisoner as an outsider.
WILLIAM HENRY CANNON . I am a clerk in the employ of the prosecutor at Ludgate Hill—on 19th December I saw a bag in the shop, which I knew to be the prisoner's—in his absence I opened the bag—I found in it a youth's top overcoat of the value of about 27s. 6d. and a juvenile suit value 28s. 6d.—I don't think there were any tickets on the articles—our goods are ticketed with the prices—the things in the bag were part of our stock—on 21st I found the bag was gone—the prisoner brought it back two and a half hours afterwards, and placed it in the shop beside me; I lifted it, and found it was empty—on 24th June the bag was still there; I opened it and found in it a blue melton overcoat of the value of 38s. 6d., the property of Mr. Watts, and part of the stock—on that evening
I went out with the prisoner—he had the bag with him—I left him about a quarter to ten—on 1st January, 1889, I again watched the same bag, I opened it in his absence and found in it another overcoat, a new one, out of our stock—all these articles were ready-made, and kept on the premises—if they had been sold the prisoner ought to have made out a sale ticket, and that ought to have been passed to the cashier in charge—if the goods are sent out they would be entered in a parcel instruction ticket, which is entered in the day-book—I have searched, and can find no entry in the day-book or any parcel instruction ticket—the goods in the bag were placed loosely, not wrapped up—on 28th December I find no record in the books of an overcoat being required at Ludgate Hill—these are invoices of Bartram and Harvey and George Smith and Co.—there is no entry of the goods referred to in those invoices having been delivered; there is no legitimate order for them, nor did I find any entry in any of the books referring to the articles charged in these invoices.
Cross-examined. Pearcey, another assistant, first called my attention to the bag—he was under the prisoner—the prisoner would have a right to censure Pearcey if he did wrong—he had complained of Pearcey coming late in the morning—Pearcey opened the bag with a key—Pearcey had access to all the clothes in the premises—I did not ask the prisoner for an explanation about the top coat or the suit—I went to Mr. Watts about a week after with Pearcey—the prisoner had eight or nine men under him—the other assistants have taken orders and made entries in the bespoke order-book—it is not correct to say that the only entries in the book are made by the prisoner; I have often done it myself—the prisoner was not often there—five or six of the assistants have done so; it is a common practice—the cutter left Ludgate Hill two months before Christmas—we had no cutter for two months—if a ready-made suit required to be altered it might go to Tottenham Court Road—it would not be the prisoner's duty to take it; it would have been irregular—the porter, Pegram, would take it—I am clerk and cashier—I should not take the money—we have a little boy who takes the money; I merely superintend—either the prisoner or I would take the money to the desk—the boy or the party who took the money would file the ticket.
Re-examined. If the prisoner took anything to be altered he would have to enter it in the work-hands' book—I have searched the books—I had not been instructed to watch the prisoner—I was in communication with Pearcey—when anything is sold a ticket is put on a file, and the counterfoil also—we compare the amount taken with those tickets to see that it is right.
JOHN PEARCEY . I am an assistant salesman at the Ludgate Hill branch—on 19th December, 1888, I saw Cannon look at a bag belonging to the prisoner—it was not opened then—I afterwards opened it with a key that I got from one of the portmanteaus in stock, and found in it a juvenile suit and a youth's overcoat—on the 20th I saw the bag again, and opened it and saw the contents still there—the bag was left there the whole day—I saw it taken away next morning by the prisoner—he came back in a few hours with the bag—I opened it, it was then quite empty—on the 24th I saw again the same bag in the shop—I opened it and saw a ready-made man's overcoat—I left between four and five that afternoon—our usual time for closing is seven—I was present
on 1st January when the prisoner was given into custody—I had opened the same bag that morning, and found in it another ready-made man's overcoat—the prisoner went away with the bag, and was taken into custody—I have looked through the books and cannot find any entry with respect to those articles.
Cross-examined. I took the first key I found to open the bag—I have it here—I did not go to the prisoner on 19th December and ask him for an explanation—I was on friendly terms with him—he has found fault with me for going late; I was generally late—I should not take on myself the liberty of asking for an explanation, because I had my suspicion of something wrong previously—I should have said I did not like to take on myself the responsibility—if ready-made things wanted altering we should send them to one of our tailors; we have several; they would not go to Tottenham Court Road—Cannon has been in the service about sixteen months, and I about the same time; he is my superior; he knows more about the business than I—he has more to do with the counting house; I have to do with the shop—on January 1st the bag contained a ready-made man's overcoat and two pieces of trouser material—they had tickets on them and the name of the customer—they were going to Tottenham Court Road—we indicate with chalk what alterations are to be made, and they would go to a tailor close by—we never open the seams, the tailor would do that—the work-hands' book was kept by the prisoner and I—I have not been promoted since the prisoner left—I have had no increase of salary, only of duties.
Re-examined There is no entry in the work-hands' book of these goods; if they were sold there ought to have been entries—when we send out articles to customers we put them up in a parcel—there is a porter to take parcels between Ludgate Hill and the other houses.
CHARLES IZZARD (City Policeman 440). I arrested the prisoner on January 1st in Ave Maria Lane, at a quarter to four in the afternoon—he had this bag in his hand with the overcoat inside—he said, "I don't know what you are taking me in custody for"—I said, "You are given in my custody for stealing an overcoat"—he replied, "I have got a complete answer to the charge; I am taking it to the other warehouse in Tottenham Court Road to get it matched with another one"—I searched him, and found on him 12s. in money, a silver watch, a silver-plated cigar case, three handkerchiefs, some papers, a cigar clip, and a tobacco case—I afterwards examined his house at Surbiton, and there found this suit of clothes.
Cross-examined. I found among the papers this invoice of 1st January, 1889, of Bartram and Harvey, for £1 17s. 10d.—there were three remands at the Police-court—the prisoner was out on bail; I heard that he was dangerously ill.
WILLIAM MAKIN . I keep the Goose and Gridiron, St. Paul's Church yard—the prisoner has been in the habit of coming there—on 1st January he left a parcel with the barmaid—I afterwards gave it to the police.
F. G. HUGHES (Re-examined. This coating and trousering is similar to the samples on this invoice, which we supplied—it has been charged to Messrs. Watts.
called there frequently—he left a parcel with me; I can't say the date—put it across the bar and left it there.
CHARLES IZZARD (Re-examined). Among the papers I found on the prisoner were these two invoices; one is an invoice of George Smith and Son, for 6s., the other is one of Cooper, Box and Co., of 10th December, for £1 9s. 5d.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of omitting to make entries in the books.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
280. THOMAS HARWOOD (30) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a pianoforte, of which he was bailee; also to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences a case of spoons and forks of Dennis Butler.— One Month Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Monday, March 4th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
282. JOHN WILES (28) , to two indictments for forging and uttering cheques for £4 10s. and £5 10s., with intent to defraud. (He received a good character.— Six Months' Hard Labour . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
283. WILLIAM HOLMES (34) , to two indictments for stealing two post letters and contents, the property of H. M. Postmaster-General.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
284. WILLIAM PETO (24) , to stealing, while employed under the Post Office, a post letter, containing an order for 10s. and 24 postage stamps, the property of H. M. Postmaster-General, also to forging and uttering an acquittance and receipt for 10s., with intent to defraud.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
285. THOMAS MARTIN ELLIS (34) , to stealing, while employed under the Post Office, a post packet and contents, the property of H. M. Postmaster-General.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
286. WILLIAM RENFREE (20) , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, a post letter and contents, the property of H. M. Postmaster-General.— Eight Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
287. JOSEPH CLEMENT DENT *† (26), to three indictments for uttering forged orders for £8 13s., £18, and £12 10s.; also to unlawfully obtaining the same sums by false pretences.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
288. ALFRED LAWSON (17) , to receiving five pairs of opera-glasses, and other articles, value £140, the property of Henry Dale and Co., knowing them to have been stolen, after a conviction of felony at this Court in September, 1887 .— Fighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 5th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
SPILL PLEADED GUILTY to this indictment, and also to another for stealing 60 lbs. of tea of the said Charles Chumley.
MR. BROXHOLME Prosecuted.
HENRY COSTIN (City Detective). About 7.30 a.m., on 1st February, I was in company with Detective Chew in an office on the second floor of 28, Love Lane, the prosecutor's office—I heard somebody come up the stairs, go on the roof and move the skylight, and I saw Spill then drop down into the warehouse—I saw him pick up four parcels of tea, which he placed in a sack, stood it on the counter, and then went up with it through the roof—he then came through the trap-door to the landing outside the office, where we were secreted—I then opened the door and said, "We are two police officers, and shall take you into custody, and you will be charged with breaking and entering this warehouse, and stealing the tea you have in the sack; where were you going to take it?"—he said, "I shall not tell you, I shall not get anybody else into trouble"—I took him into Mr. Chumley's office—he then said, "If you go to No. 7, Crickside, Orchard House, Blackwall, you will see a young man there of the name of Chisholm"—in consequence of that I and Chew went there; it is a small four-roomed house—I knocked at the door, the female prisoner opened it—I said, "Does Chisholm live here?"—she said, "Yes, he has just gone out"—I said, "How long ago?"—she said, "Which one do you mean?"—I said, "Are there two?"—she said, "Yes"—she then turned round, ran back into the passage and up stairs; I followed her, and saw Alexander lying in bed—I said, "I am a police-officer, you had better get up; you have some tea in the house, and I want it"—I then lifted the lid of a box alongside the bed, and saw that it contained about 60 or 70 lbs. of tea done up in packages—I said, "How do you account for this being here"?—he said "I bought it from a man over the water"—I said, "Do you know the man?"—he said "No"—I told him I should take him into custody, and he would be charged with being concerned with Spill in breaking and entering, and stealing the said tea, and receiving it, well knowing it to have been stolen—I then said to Mrs. Chisholm, "I am going to search your house; have you any more tea?"—they both replied, "No, there is no more in the house"—I looked under the bed and found a japanned tinned bonnet-box, containing about 20 lbs. of loose tea—I said to them, "How do you account for this being here?"—they replied that they did not know it was there—I then asked the female prisoner what the box at the foot of the bed contained—she said, "Nothing but clothing"—Chew opened it, and it contained about 60 lbs. of tea packed up similar to the other—she declared that she knew nothing about it—I then said, "I shall take you into custody, and you will be charged with the other two"—we then conveyed them to the City—on the way she said, "I had 30 lbs. of tea yesterday from Spill; he brought it to me as I was waiting in Eastcheap."
CHARLES CHUMLEY . I am a tea merchant of 28, Love Lane—I identify these packages of tea by the brand and the label—I took stock in June or July last, and found my stock a little less; but on taking stock on January 31st I missed more—that found is worth about £16.
Alexander Chisholm, in his defence, stated that he received the tea from Spill to sell, believing it to be damaged; that he sold some and gave Spill the money; that his mother knew nothing of the tea found in the box Lilias Chisholm
said that Spill told her it was damaged tea, and she sold some of it to her neighbours, but did not know it was stolen.
LILIAS CHISHOLM— NOT GUILTY .
ALEXANDER CHISHOLM— GUILTY Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
SPILL.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
He PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction in June, 1886.
HUNT also PLEADED GUILTY to four other indictments for forging and uttering requests for the delivery of goods from other persons.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
REV. ERNEST MORT . I am curate at Holy Trinity, Greenwich—I live at 89, Blackheath Hill—on 15th August last year the prisoner called on me for a subscription to the Home Hospital for Advanced Consumption at Roehampton—I had some conversation with him for about a quarter of an hour—I gathered there was a hospital in existence there—I asked for a prospectus; he said he would send me one—I understood he was collecting subscriptions as agent for the secretary or promoter—I gathered from him that the hospital was to be for those who were in advanced consumption, and that a case having been once taken in would remain there for life, and that I should have the power of nominating patients—I gave him £2 2s., believing that the hospital was in existence, and that he was authorised to receive money for it—he gave me this receipt, signed "James Hayward, for Secretary."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I believe I asked you if the hospital was in existence—I cannot remember your exact words, but my recollection is you said it was a new institution, but that some part of it was in existence—I wrote to the Postmaster at Roehampton to ask if there was such an institution in existence, and I got a reply.
Re-examined I did not find any hospital there.
HARRIET BLAKE . I live at 31, Hyde Park Gardens—on 7th December, 1887, I gave the prisoner a subscription of £1 1s. for the Hospital for Advanced Consumption—he gave me a receipt signed like this—on 8th December, 1888, he called again, and I gave him another guinea, and got this receipt—I asked on that occasion how the hospital was getting on—I was told it was jogging on pretty well, but there were several beds empty yet—he told me it was Clarence House, Roehampton, and that was in the prospectus also, which he gave me in 1887—he had not got a receipt with him, and I said I must have one, and he said he would send it in two or three days, and afterwards I got this receipt—when I parted with my money I believed that there was a hospital in existence, and that the prisoner was authorised to receive money for it.
REV. RICHARD WESTHROP I am a clerk in holy orders, living at 69, Dover-road, Folkestone, and doing duty there now—I was the honorary secretary of the proposed Home Hospital for Patients Suffering from Consumption in the Advanced Stages—I have had some experience in hospital matters—it occurred to me that this would be a good kind of hospital to start, and in consequence a committee was formed, and I had letters addressed with regard to it to Savoy House, in the Strand—after the matter had been considered I employed the prisoner to canvass for subscriptions and the names of patrons—he was to be paid £1 a week salary, and commission on the subscriptions he collected—I supplied him with receipt-books signed by myself, which he would also sign, and ask those who gave subscriptions to initial the counterfoil—after he had been collecting for some time, on April 5th, 1888, a question arose between us with reference to a missing receipt-book, and I told him I could not sanction on behalf of the committee his collecting any more money what ever, for I thought he ought to be dismissed—he begged very hard that he should have another trial, and I consented he should have a book in which he should ask people who would support the institution to write their names and the sum they were willing to subscribe; and I said I would apply for it in due time, but he was to receive no money at all, and he signed a note to that effect, which was put at the end of the book—the book was produced at the Police-court—I and another witness saw him sign that—from that time he had no authority whatever to receive money under any circumstances—about 10th or 12th May I had a letter with regard to his receiving money, and after that I saw him and said it would be impossible for us to continue to employ him in any capacity whatever, and the only thing I could do, and I should be bound in honour to the public to do, would be to advertise the fact of his dis charge in the daily papers, and it was advertised in the Morning Post and Standard of 19th May—I also wrote him this letter (This letter stated that as he had received subscriptions and given a receipt on a plain slip of paper after being instructed that he was to receive no money, it was impossible that he should be employed in connection with the Institution, and that advertisements would be sent to the daily papers to that effect.—After that I sent the advertisements, and after that he had no authority to receive money—I never received the money given by Mrs. Blake and Mr. Mort, nor did I authorise these receipts—at the end of the year I received a letter from the Charity Organisation Society, and they put me into communication with Mr. Thornton—the hospital has never been in existence; we had the offer of Clarence House, Roehampton, during the time the prisoner was in our employment—it was not taken; there was no contract for hire binding on either party; there were never any beds there.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The receipt-books are filled up and signed all right up to the time you made up your statement—you never had authority to receive money without my signature all the time of your employment, and you had a certain number of receipts signed on account—you never bought a receipt-book that I am aware of—you were a clerk at Charing Cross Hospital for some time—I made no arrangement with you as to terms before you left there—I told you were to have £1 a week for salary, and £1 for expenses and commission until the hospital was founded, and after that you were to have £1 a week salary, and five per cent on the receipts—I have your accounts here up to the
time you left—sometimes you had £2 or £3 on account—by your own account you had £36 19s. 7d. of me, and you retained £75 13s. 3d. and £41 11s. 2d. that you had collected, leaving you in debt about £48—I paid you £5 one week—I told you to say we hoped to take Clarence House and to put in 50 beds as soon as we got sufficient funds—I never told you to say we had taken it—when I got your statement of your accounts I did not order you to sit down and shut your mouth and not say a word or I would take you to Bow Street—I said I ought to take you to Bow Street because you denied you had received the money which was entered in the missing receipt-book—you denied ever having had the receipt-book which was lost—I afterwards found it at Savoy House, and found you had received about £19 in it; you denied having received it, and I said for that reason I could not allow you to receive any more money, and you signed the agreement—I did not compel you to sit down and write this statement, dictating it to you; you took it out from your list of counterfoils and receipts; Mr. Jupp was present; you cast them up from your own figures—you had left Charing Cross Hospital (they were making a change in their staff) when I engaged you—I spoke to you about the Home while you were still at the hospital, but you were under notice to leave—I discharged you on my own responsibility—I submitted it to the committee afterwards—they left your employment to me—I had authority to engage and to dismiss you—you were employed by the authority of the committee—when I threatened to advertise you did not tell me you should not leave off work because I owed you money, and you should go on; you admitted by your own paper that you owed the society a considerable sum—this was your voluntary account—I should not have called a committee meeting and let you have notice of it, that you could attend—I have authority from the committee to act for them—I have their sanction and approval for everything I have done in the matter—there was a committee meeting somewhere about April, 1888—I had a letter from Mr. Dutton, a solicitor (This asked for an explanation of the advertisements in the "Morning Post" and "Standard," and said that unless it was given and an apology made through the same papers, a writ would be issued—I made no apology; I received no writ—I got Mr. Jupp, who was acquainted with all the circumstances, to call on Mr. Dutton and explain the whole matter; Mr. Jupp told me he had seen Mr. Dutton.
FREDERICK CHURCH (Police Sergeant B On 6th February I arrested the prisoner at Brixton—I read this warrant to him; it is for obtaining by false pretences 10s. 6d. of Thomas Thornton—he said, "Where is it from?"—I said, "23, Egerton Gardens"—that is Mr. Thornton's place—he gave evidence before the Magistrate—the prisoner said nothing else—when charged at the station he made no reply.
The Prisoner in his defence said that the Committee had employed him, and that the Committee alone had a right to discharge him, and that he had kept on with his work for the sake of having his rights; that he knew 1,000 people who would subscribe as soon as the hospital was opened; that after a time the circulars he had were headed "The Hospital," instead of "The Proposed Hospital," and that Mr. Westhrop wanted to get rid of him out of anger and out of favour to Mr. Jupp, whom he wanted to employ.
MR. WESTHROP (Re-examined The word "proposed" was taken off the circulars after a time—the prisoner wrote in July, 1887, asking me to
open the hospital, and saying that it could be carried on, for subscriptions would come in freely enough—it is not true that it was out of anger to him or in favour to another that I wanted to get rid of him—Mr. Jupp assisted him when I was out of London for some time—it was thought better there should be a little supervision, and Mr. Jupp volunteered his services—the prisoner has paid me nothing since his dismissal—we know of no sums that he has received except these three—he says he has received a large number—I can disprove what he says, that we owe him £60 still, by his statements—I have no entry in the minute-book about the prisoner's appointment and dismissal, because it was left to me.
NOT GUILTY . The Jury said they thought the accounts were not properly kept.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
GEORGE GOODHEW . I am a market constable in Farringdon Market—on Monday, 25th February, between five and six, I received information, in consequence of which I ran into Shoe Lane, where I saw the prisoner wheeling a barrow, with a crate on it, up St. Andrew's Street, very swiftly—I overtook him opposite Thavies' Inn—I stopped him and said, "Where are you going to take the crate to?"—he said, "Two men have engaged me to take it to King's Cross"—a constable came up, and I gave him into custody—he said nothing more then, but when charged at the Police-station he said something in the presence of Sergeant.
WILLIAM SERGEANT (City Policeman 368). On 25th February I saw the last witness speaking to the prisoner—I went up, and when I heard him say two men had hired him to take it to King's Cross I said, "Can you see the two men anywhere?"—he looked round and said, "No"—I said, "You must come to the station with me"—he was going in the direction of King's Cross—he said nothing further till he was charged at the station—in answer he said, "I was going with a barrow to fetch some work for my wife from Mrs. Moore's, 89, Shoe Lane, when two men asked me to take a case to King's Cross"—he gave a correct address.
By the COURT. I ascertained that Mrs. Moore, a bookbinder, lived at 89, Shoe Lane—the prisoner's wife has done work for her for some years—Mrs. Moore had no work for him on this day, and was not expecting him there for work, but she was expecting him to bring work home.
THOMAS STEPHEN NEWALL . I am manager to my mother, Mrs. Annie Newall, china and glass dealer, 61, Farringdon Street—the police showed me a crate outside Guildhall Yard; it belonged to my mother—it contained 25 dozen tumblers, and was worth £3 12s. 6d.—it had been standing outside the warehouse in 43, Farringdon Market, ready to be delivered; the tumblers had been made for a firm—I last saw it safely at three o'clock on Monday—I was not at home when it was taken.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "It is quite correct what the constable said as to his stopping me. I did not know the case was stolen till the constable stopped me."
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, March 5th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LYNE, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRANSTOUN Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.
WILLIAM SMITH . I am cashier to William Franklyn Jackson, a tailor, of 33, Fenchurch Street—the prisoner was his foreman cutter—it was part of his duty to go out for articles which were ordered and which were not in stock—on 17th January he procured twelve pairs of "pants" and a mackintosh, and on 19th January he handed to me this paper, which has on it in blue pencil in his writing, "One mackintosh for Witcher £1 8s., and twelve drawers £1 7s.; £2 15s."—I cannot say that he said anything—I paid him the £2 15s., believing he had obtained the articles for his master.
Cross-examined I have been four years in this employment—I believe the defendant went into the employment in 1884, and left a year after wards or a little more, after which Mr. Jackson's son re-engaged him, and he came back during the father's absence from illness for about eighteen months—the son was then managing the business—I think Mr. Jackson came back early in 1886—I do not know of the son saying that it was his business—this ordering of goods was not often required—I remember Piggott being asked to go into the fitting-room to explain, but I was not present, nor did he speak to me about what had occurred—Mr. Jackson paid him two weeks' wages after that—I saw him at the shop afterwards, but did not tell him if it had not been for his applying for the situation of a first-class cutter proceedings would not have been taken; I did not know anything about it then—Mr. Piggott came in and said, "I think it is owing to this letter"—he has been there since the proceedings at the Mansion House; it was after the summons, and that was returnable on the 13th—he came in and said he believed the summons had been taken out through his answering an advertisement—I do not think Mr. Jackson was in then—I did not speak to him or his son, or he to me—the summons was heard at the Police-court, and the Alderman admitted the prisoner to bail in his own recognisances in £25—after that I saw perhaps fifty copies of this bill in the shop—(This was a report of the proceedings at the Police-court—I do not know why they were there—I do not know that Mr. Jackson has had them circulated through the trade; they have not been posted or given to people to my knowledge—they were in Mr. Jackson's youngest son's possession—I do not know that the prisoner has said from the first that Mr. Jackson's son had this money—I never heard it either from Mr. Jackson or his son—they did not tell me who had these bills printed, or what they were printed for—Mr. Fisher is Mr. Jackson's brother-in-law—the son has not been attending regularly to the business for the last few months—I cannot say how often he has been drunk in that time.
Re-examined I do not know whether any of these documents were sent out; it is an exact report of what took place before the Magistrate
—the son was well on 19th January, and was there in the morning—the prisoner was dismissed on the 26th, and did not come back.
WALTER GARDINER I am in the employ of Foster, Porter and Co., of Wood Street, in the ready-money department—on 17th January the prisoner came and asked for a dozen brown cotton "pants"—the price was 18s. 11d.—I went with him to the ready-money deposit place.
CHARLES KELLY . I am a clerk in the ready-money department at Foster, Porter and Co.'s—on 17th January the prisoner came to my department and paid 18s. 11d. for twelve pairs of "pants"—I gave him a receipt—this (produced) is a duplicate of the invoice—it is not true that he paid 27s. for them.
ALEXANDER GEORGE BRADSHAW . I am one of the firm of Jones and Bradshaw, indiarubber manufacturers, of Lime Street—on 17th January I served the prisoner, who I had seen before, with a waterproof coat—he paid 23s. 6d. for it, not 28s.
JOHN FISHER . I am an engineer, of Matlock—in February I was on a visit to my brother-in-law, Mr. Jackson, and my nephew asked me if I would see Piggott—I said "Yes," and he asked me to go into the cutting room—I did so; Mr. Jackson was not there—Piggott said, "Will you kindly intercede for me, ask Mr. Jackson to look over the case?"—I said, "I shall be very pleased if I can do anything for you in the matter; I know Mr. Jackson is very much annoyed about the matter, but I have no objection to see what I can do, on the condition that you will admit you have done wrong, and apologise"—he said, "I shall only be too happy"—I said, "I also think you ought to pay the expenses of the lawyers, as you have been the author of it"—he said, "I shall be very glad to do that, and I will try and find the money to pay the lawyers' expenses"—Mr. Jackson's youngest son was present, and heard the conversation.
Cross-examined. I have no recollection of saying to the prisoner that my brother-in-law was very sorry he had taken the proceedings—I think I said that the advertisement had aggravated the case very much, and made Mr. Jackson very angry—I have no recollection of saying that if he had not answered it proceedings would not have been taken—I do not know whether the prisoner had put an advertisement in, or answered one, or whether he has five children to support—I did not want to get an ad mission from him; I shunned him, I went to the other side of the shop when I went in—I merely complied with his request—I said, "Admit the charge and pay what expense has been incurred"—I told him I thought that was only fair—I do not think this paper was circulated to ruin him—Mr. Jackson said that he did not wish to injure him.
Re-examined. The prisoner occupied a responsible position, and my brother-in-law placed trust in him—there are two sons; the one in the shop is twenty or twenty-one—I said before the Magistrate, "I said, 'Will you authorise me to say you have made this overcharge, and are very sorry?' he said, 'Certainly, I will'"—my memory was fresher then than it is now.
MR. GILL called
WILLIAM FRANKLYN JACKSON I am the prosecutor—Piggott entered my employment about 1884, and left about a year afterwards; I have come unprepared with dates—he re-entered my employment perhaps two years ago—I have been in very ill-health, but never was away for eighteen
months, as has been stated—I used to sign and endorse all cheques—during the time I was away my son was there, and he consulted me whether he should re-engage the prisoner—I said, "Do as you like," because it was through a misunderstanding that he left—I saw the prisoner on a Saturday with regard to this matter, and asked what explanation he had to give—he answered in an evasive manner, and said that I had better consult my eldest son James—I then discharged him with a week's salary in advance in lieu of notice—I spoke to Mr. Fisher about the advertisement, but I never saw it—after the prisoner's committal a lad, who took down the evidence, brought it to my place, and I had twenty-five copies printed by a stationer, whose name I cannot recollect; he lives just at the back of St. Catherine Cree Church, Leadenhall Street—since then I said, "Make it one hundred copies," but I have not got rid of a dozen of them—I have not sent them to anybody, but if anybody asked why I made the charge, they had one—this is not copied from the City Press—I was annoyed at the prisoner answering an advertisement—he had not inserted one.
Cross-examined. I was entirely dependent upon this cutter, I placed great confidence in him—he and my son were left in charge when I was ill—my eldest son is near 40, and my youngest about 20—I have not instituted these proceedings from malicious motives, but I have other people in my employ—his saying "You had better consult your son James" disgusted me, and I said no more to him.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
CLARKE PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL defended Barron.
FREDERICK HOW (Thames Policeman 21). On 24th February about 1.45 I was in Southampton Street, Strand, going to my duty, and saw Barron looking down the area of No. 10—I asked what he was doing there—he said, "Nothing"—hearing a slight noise in the area, I seized him, and saw Clarke climbing up out of the area—I blew my whistle, and Pharaoh came to my assistance, and they were both taken to Bow Street Station—we then returned to the premises, and found an entry had been effected by forcing off the fastening of the area window—I found in a corner of the area two jemmies, a screwdriver, a brace and seven bits, which are tools used by burglars—the box of the lock was forced off the door leading to the house, between the rooms where they got in and the other portion of the house; the marks corresponded with this large jemmy.
Cross-examined. No tools were found on Barron—there were no marks outside the premises.
WILLIAM PHARAOH (Policeman E 366). On February 21st I heard a whistle, and went to Southampton Street, Strand, and saw Barron in custody outside the railings of No. 10, and Clarke climbing over the railings to get into the road—I seized him, looked down the area, and saw the window open—we took the prisoners to the station, and returned to the area and found these tools in a corner; and with them a small bottle of sweet oil, used for greasing the tools—this is the box of the lock.
Cross-examined. The railings surround the area, there are no steps;
they would have to get over the railings and drop—No. 10 is just over half-way up Southampton Street from the Strand.
SAMUEL MILLER . I live at 10, Southampton Street, Strand—on February 21st, about 2 a.m., I was awoke by the police, I came down, and found the catch of the window had been forced off and an entrance effected into the basement; the box had been forced from the lock of the door communicating with the stairs—I saw the place locked up at 7 o'clock the night before.—
BARRON— NOT GUILTY .
CLARKE— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
298. HEADLEY JONES** (42) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a cheque for £20 with intent to defraud; also to obtaining a cheque for £25 from Henry Webster Lawson by false pretences, having been convicted at Exeter of a like offence on April 8th, 1885.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 6th, 1889.
Before Mr. Justice Mathew.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and GILL Prosecuted; MR. CLUER Defended. JOHN HAWES. I am head fireman at the Constitutional Club—there is a back entrance to the club in Northumberland Street—about half-past four on 1st February I was standing at the back entrance, and saw the prisoner in the street leaning on the tail-board of a van—about 7.50 the deceased, who was a charwoman at the club, left; shortly afterwards I heard of her having been shot—I went to the station and there saw the prisoner.
Cross-examined. The day following I saw him at Bow Street Station in a room with fourteen others—when I saw him in Northumberland Street he had a light cap on—I did not notice his dress particularly.
JANE THOMPSON . I am a stillroom maid—on the evening of 1st February, about ten minutes to eight, I met the deceased in Northumber land Street; we spoke, and we went to No. 6, opposite the club, to speak to a Mrs. Baker; we went inside and stood talking for some minutes—I saw the prisoner on the left-hand side of the street, we were on the right—after talking the deceased left the house, that was the last I saw of her—while I was in the passage I heard the report of a pistol.
JOHN MALLETT . I am assistant clerk to the Metropolitan Asylums Board—on the evening of 1st February, about eight, I was outside the Grand Hotel, at the top of Northumberland Street, and heard a report of firearms almost immediately behind me—I at once turned and walked down the street, and saw the prisoner walking towards me—a constable reached him about the same time as I did, and said, "Have you done this?"—the prisoner said, "I suppose I must have done it"—he had a revolver in his hand; it had been recently discharged, it was smoking—I saw the deceased woman leaning against the buttress at the corner of the street, making a great noise, evidently in great pain—the prisoner seemed very much distressed.
Cross-examined. The street was very well lighted—I noticed no one there except the prisoner, the deceased, and the constable.
JAMES EDWARDS (Policeman E 132). I was on duty close to the top of Northumberland Street—I heard the report of firearms and ran towards the spot—I saw the prisoner running up the street—he stopped suddenly on seeing me—he had a revolver in his right hand, slightly raised—I seized his hand, and pointed the muzzle towards the ground—he said, "I have shot a woman; pray come down and see to her; be careful, there are five chambers loaded"—I said, "Give it to me"—he did so—he said, "I was putting the lever on it to prevent it going off, when it accident ally went off and shot her"—I saw the woman leaning on her left arm against the buttress of the Grand Hotel, screaming—another constable came up and took her away in a cab—I took the prisoner to the station, and handed the revolver to the Inspector—later in the evening it was ascertained that the woman was dead, and the prisoner was charged with murder—on the charge being read over to him he said, "Is she dead?"—he was sober.
GEORGE FENNELL (Policeman E)391). I was on duty near Northumber land Street—I heard a shot, and went in the direction—I saw the last witness and the prisoner—I went to the woman; she was in a fainting condition—I took her to Charing Cross Hospital.
FRANCIS SUDLEY DA COSTA . I was house surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital on the night of 1st February, when the deceased was brought there—she was in a state of collapse, suffering from a bullet-wound, the evident direction of which was from back to front—the bullet was slipping out in front—it was extracted—she was suffering from internal hemorrhage—an operation was performed, and shortly after she died—a post-mortem was made—she died from internal hemorrhage, the effects of the wound, which was slightly from right to left, and immediately over the right buttock—the bullet was handed to the Inspector.
WILLIAM THORN (Police Inspector E About a quarter-past eight on February 1st the prisoner was brought to Bow Street Station, charged with shooting Susan Connorton—I directed him to be searched—I received this revolver from the officer; it was loaded in five chambers, an exploded cartridge was in the sixth chamber—on the prisoner was found a box containing 34 ball cartridges, similar in every respect to the five in the revolver—a bullet was subsequently handed to me by Mr. Da Costa, it exactly corresponded with those in the cartridges—immediately below the trigger of this revolver there is a safety catch, it is out of order and broken—I found on the prisoner a number of discharge certificates of character, showing that he has been both in the Royal Navy and in the Merchant Service—he appears to have been a steward, employed between 1881 and 1888, and during the whole of that time to have borne an ex ceptionally high character.
Cross-examined. Inquiries have been also made about him; they were very satisfactory—his last discharge was from the Union Company's ship Tartar, on 20th December, 1888.
ROBERT GRAY . I am manager to Cogswell and Harrison, gun makers, 226, Strand—I have examined this revolver; it is an old one, of Birmingham manufacture—there is a little spring behind the trigger either broken or missing; it does not act as it should; it would be difficult and dangerous to adjust it when loaded.
JAMES CONNORTON . I am a boot-closer—the deceased, Susan Connorton, was my wife—she was 53 years of age, and was employed as a char woman at the Constitutional Club—I identified her body at the hospital—I never saw the prisoner till I saw him at Bow Street—I do not believe that my wife knew him.
EDWIN GEORGE GODDARD . I am a traveller, and live at Caversham, near Reading—I gave the prisoner this revolver about three years ago, with cartridges; these appear to be the same—I gave two guineas for the revolver—I can't say whether it was in a perfect state—I don't know if there was anything wrong with the catch—I don't know a great deal about revolvers.
NOT GUILTY .
ELIZABETH CHARLOTTE BARNETT In December last I went to live at 3, Clifton Terrace, Finsbury—I was getting my living as an unfortunate girl—I took the rooms of the prisoner's wife, two rooms on the top floor—the prisoner and his wife occupied the downstairs rooms; it is a two storied house—the rooms on the first floor were let as bedrooms—a woman named Lawes came there as servant immediately after I came; she used to occupy a front room on the first, floor—I paid 1s. 4d. a day for my board up to 12th January—the deceased man Williams came to live with me on the Saturday before this happened; I don't know the date—I then ceased to board with the prisoner and his wife—on the Tuesday after Williams came (the 15th) the prisoner turned Mrs. Lawes out—on Monday morning (14th) a notice to quit was served on the prisoner; that afternoon Mrs. Turner came up and made a disturbance—Williams was in the back room at first, but he came into the front room, where Mrs. Turner was—I called Mr. Turner up to fetch her down, but he did not come—next night, Tuesday, a man they called Rick came to live there; he had been there before—I was out of the house when Mr. Turner first put Mrs. Lawes out—I came in, and she ran upstairs—he went to fetch her down—Williams said he should not hit her—Turner followed her up and fetched her down and sent her out—afterwards she came into the house with me, and remained in my room—after that she stopped in my back room—Mrs. Turner was then out—when she came in she came up to my room and wanted to fight—she called Turner up—he just came inside the door, put his hand in his right-hand pocket, and said, "I will shoot you, you b—"—Williams took him by the shoulder, put him out, and locked the door—that was the first time any words had passed between him and Williams—after Mrs. Lawes was turned out the prisoner said he would settle with Williams at ten in the morning, and called him a b——on the Thursday I went out with Williams—Mrs. Lawes was then in my back room—both my room doors were fastened; when I returned both rooms had been entered—Lawes told me something—next day, Friday, Williams brought in a man named Seecry, and we three had dinner to gether—after dinner we went out—Lawes went out at the same time—
before we went out Seecry put a match in the door to see whether it would be interfered with—we came back about half-past four—we found the back room door had been interfered with—in consequence of that Williams went downstairs; I followed him—he went into the kitchen—Mr. and Mrs. Turner and Rick were there, and another man they called Harry—Williams asked what they had been up to in the back room—they said they had not been there—Mrs. Turner said no one had been up there—I said they had—Rick said no one had been up there—I told him to mind his own business, I was not talking to him—Mrs. Turner said, "You have got an iron of mine upstairs"—I said I had not, and I said, "If you have not been up in my room, how would you know I had got an iron there?"—Turner said nothing at that time—Williams and I then went upstairs—that same afternoon Williams and Seecry went out and afterwards he came back and fetched me—I came home alone about nine—Williams came home about ten—there was no one in the house then but Lawes—she went to bed in the back room about half-past nine, and Williams and I went to bed about eleven—about twelve Mrs. Turner came up calling out to the old woman, and then I heard the back room door forced open—I and Williams got up—Turner called out to Williams, "Come out, you b—, I have got something for you"—I lit my lamp, which was standing on the dressing-table facing the door—Williams went and opened the door, and I saw Rick and Turner standing on the landing about five stairs down from my room—Rick had his coat on, Turner had not—they both had revolvers in their hands—Williams went out first; I was going just behind him, and when I saw the two men I went back; and as I was going to the window Williams was shot—I called out, "Police"—I heard Turner say, "Shoot him, Charlie," and he was shot—Williams said, "Liz, call murder, I am shot"—he came back and came to the window—I called out "Police" and "Murder," and Williams too—I could see the front gate from the window—I saw Rick go away—Turner was standing at the gate—Williams called out, "Stop that man; he is the man that shot me"—no one but Rick and Turner were at the gate; there were some men outside, but they did not take any notice—Williams ran downstairs, passed Turner, and went out—he said, "For God's sake, gentlemen, will you fetch a policeman?" but no one would go—I went out after Williams and came back to the house with him—Police-constable Thomas was outside—I went up first, and Williams and Thomas came up after me—Turner was then standing on the top landing, outside my room door—Williams said, "I will give that man in charge; the man who actually shot me is gone"—Williams was taken in a cab to the hospital, and Turner was taken into custody—it was a moonlight night; there was sufficient light for me to see.
Cross-examined. I saw by the light of my lamp as well—my door opens inwards—the lamp was at the far end of the room, facing the door—when Williams went to the door he was partly in front of me—he was fired at almost directly he was at the door—he had time to get outside the door; it was outside he was shot—I was almost in a line with him; I was behind him, and yet I saw the two men—it was all done so quickly—the expression, "Shoot him, Charlie" was after the door was opened—I can't say which of the two fired the shot—on the previous Tuesday, when the prisoner came up and threatened to shoot Williams, he had had a drop to drink, but he was not drunk—Williams was a tall, powerful
man—the prisoner said he would settle with him next morning—he did not come up next morning—it was on the Sunday that the police came and took my statement, and on the Monday I made a statement to the Coroner's officer—on Tuesday, the 22nd, I gave evidence before the Coroner—I saw the revolver in the prisoner's hand by the light from my lamp—the two men were standing close together—I had seen Rick in the house about a fortnight before—he had been there almost every day—I saw him when I used to go down to my meals—I heard the expression, "Come out; I will put your lights out"I think on the Friday night that Williams was shot—I know Rick's voice; I have heard him speak—when Williams called out of the window, "Stop that man," there were a number of men outside by the beer-shop—none of them interfered, because Mrs. Turner said it was a false alarm—I stated that at the Police-court, or at the station—the prisoner did not try to prevent Williams passing him—he did not see him; he had his back turned, and he had no boots on, and he could not hear him.
Re-examined Rick did not speak at all at the time Williams was shot—I am quite sure it was the prisoner's voice I heard.
CHARLOTTE LAWES In December last I went to live at Turner's, and to help in the house—I slept on the first floor for a time—when Williams came I went to the top floor back—I went there out of the way, on account of the prisoner coming home the worse for drink and using very bad language—the day before that, on the Monday, a man left a notice to quit with me, and as soon as I gave it to Mrs. Turner she rushed up to the girl Barnett's room—I heard a disturbance, and I heard Barnett call for Mr. Turner to come up—he did not go—on the Tuesday Mrs. Turner came up and told Williams he had no business to be there—she called Turner up, and he said to Williams, "I will shoot you," and he put his hand to his pocket—Williams caught him by his shoulder, rolled him out of the room, and locked the door—nothing had taken place between me and the prisoner before, except what I have said, only when he has had a drop of drink—he was very good to me—on the Tuesday he wanted to pull me downstairs, and Williams said, "Don't hurt the old girl; you ought to be ashamed to interfere with the old girl like that"; and of course they got quarrelling—on the Thursday night Williams and the girl went out—I was upstairs in the top room—I heard somebody come up and try the front room door—someone went down and came up again, took a key, and went in; and when they came out they tried the door of the room I was in, but I had barricaded the door so that it would not open—I heard voices—it sounded like Rick speaking to someone, but I heard no more afterwards—when Barnett and Williams came home I told them—on Friday night, about twelve, I was in the back room, and was awoke by Mrs. Turnor shouting up the stairs, calling all sorts of names, and saying, "Come out of that"; and I heard Turner say, "Come out, you long beggar; I have got something for you "; and he pulled me out on to the landing, and Rick put his knee in my back, and pushed me downstairs, and he called out to Mrs. Turner, "Stop that old woman's gab"—I called "Murder" and "Police," and ran out at the street door screaming, leaving the prisoner and Rick on the top landing—when I got out I heard Barnett screaming "Murder" and "Police" out of the window—I ran to the public-house, and saw a policeman; he went to the house, and took the prisoner away—on the
Sunday after this I found a bullet in the room, which I gave to the police—I saw a mark on the door-post leading from the back room to the front.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in his shirt-sleeves when he bundled me downstairs, and Rick in his waistcoat—I was dreadfully frightened when I was woke up—when Turner threatened to shoot Williams on the Tuesday night he was much the worse for drink—I did not attach any importance to it; when not in drink he was a kind, humane man—I was not taken in out of charity; I worked as a charwoman—I had access to all parts of the house—I have even taken money out of his trousers' pockets if anything was wanted—I never saw a revolver there—before I gave my evidence I had read Barnett's evidence in the People—I have not talked with her about it.
RICHARD WISEDALE . I am clerk to Mr. Percival Hodgson, solicitor, of 273, Seven Sisters' Road—on Monday, 14th January, I served a notice to quit at the house in Clifton Terrace, dated 14th, to quit on the following Monday, the 21st.
EDWARD SEECRY . I am a bricklayer, of 84, Hampton Road, Upper Holloway—I knew the deceased man, Williams—on Friday, 18th January, in consequence of a message from him, I went to the Nag's Head and met him, and went with him to 3, Clifton Terrace about mid day—I went up to the front room, top floor, and had dinner with him and Barnett—I went downstairs, and saw two men—after dinner I went out with Williams—the doors were locked—I put a little piece of match in one in order to ascertain whether the door would be opened—we came back about half-past four—I found that the back-room door had been opened—on that Williams went downstairs; I followed him—I heard him speaking to some men and women in the kitchen; they were quarrelling—I did not go in—the noise ceased, and they shut the door—I remained there till half-past five, and then left.
Cross-examined. I said at the Police-court that the quarrel was this. Williams accused someone of opening the door, and they said they did not.
GEORGE STEELE (Policeman T 375). About twenty minutes past twelve on 19th January I saw Williams standing on the pavement, holding his side with both hands—in consequence of what he said to me I took him back to 3, Clifton Terrace—we went up to the top floor, and saw the prisoner there, standing on the landing—he was dressed, all but his coat and hat—I said to Williams, "Where is the man that shot you?"—he said, "The man that actually shot me has gone, but this man (pointing to Turner) threatened to shoot me also, and pointed a revolver at me"—I said, "Are you sure this man pointed a revolver at you?"—he said, "Yes, I am positive of it"—I then placed my hand on Turner's shoulder, and said, "I will take you into custody for being concerned with another man in shooting this man"—he replied, "I did not shoot him; I did not have any revolver"—I then handed the prisoner over to Thomas, another constable, and took Williams to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Thomas was there went I went up—I omitted to state before the Court that I said to Williams, "Are you sure Turner pointed the revolver at you?"—I did not notice that omission when the clerk read over my evidence—I do not remember Williams saying that Turner said, "He has shot you, and I will shoot you too."
THOMAS THOMAS (Policeman Y 383). In consequence of what Lawes said to me on this night, I went to 3, Clifton Terrace—I saw the prisoners and Mrs. Turner standing at the gate—I asked what was the matter—Mrs. Turner said, "If you think there is anything the matter here you had better have a look at the house"—the prisoner said nothing—we went in and went upstairs; the prisoner went in front of me—Steele arrived and came up also with Williams—Barnett was standing at the front room door—Steele asked Williams, "Where is the man who shot you?"—he said, "The man that shot me is gone"—he then pointed to the prisoner and said, "This man also threatened to shoot me—he said, 'He has shot you and I will shoot you too,' and he pointed the revolver at me"—Steele asked him if he was sure that Turner had a revolver in his hand—he said, "Yes, I am positive"—Steele then placed his right hand on Turner's shoulder and said, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with the other man in shooting this man"—he replied, "I did not shoot him, I had no revolver"—I then took the prisoner to the station—on the way he said that the girl Barnett was in the habit of having seven or eight men there in the evening, and he supposed there was some jealousy among them.
Cross-examined. I think I told the Coroner that Williams said the prisoner pointed a revolver at him, I am not positive that I did—I made a note of this matter about the following Saturday, the 19th, when I came back from the Police-court, in this book, it is a new one—some leaves have been torn out—I searched the house—I found no revolver.
JAMES SMITH (Police Inspector Y. I was in charge of the Police station when the prisoner was brought in at twenty minutes to one—I told him I should detain him for being in company with another man and shooting a man named Williams—he said, "I Know nothing about it; I never had a revolver in my hand in my life"—the witness Barnett arrived and narrated the facts—the prisoner then said, "Why, I went and fetched the constable"—some conversation ensued between the last witness and myself—Turner then remarked, "I was standing outside the public-house when the constable took me"—I advised him not to make any further statement.
Cross-examined. Since the hearing at the Police-court a description of Barrett has been telegraphed round—a placard has been placed all over London with a description of him, and a woodcut of his appearance, and a reward offered for his apprehension—he has not been arrested.
THOMAS NEWLAN (Police Inspector Y). I was called up in consequence of this charge on the morning of the 19th; I made inquiries, and about a quarter-past five a.m. I formally charged the prisoner with being concerned with a man not in custody named Richard Barrett, or Styles, for feloniously shooting at Williams, with intent to murder him—he made no reply—this bullet was handed to me by a Sergeant some time later, it had been left at the station by Lawes; she marked it in my presence while waiting at the station the prisoner said that Barnett was in the habit of having men there at night.
CHARLES MORTLOCK , M. R. C. S., L. C. P. I am resident medical officer at the Great Northern Hospital—I was in attendance there on 19th January, about 1 a.m., and received the man Williams—he was in a state of collapse, suffering from a bullet wound in the abdomen, on the right side, about three inches above the groin—the bullet had passed right
through the body and had come out over the right hip-bone, perforating the bowels—an operation was performed and the bowels sewn up, but he remained in a most critical condition—on the same day I was present when Mr. Bros, the Stipendiary Magistrate, came to the hospital—the prisoner was brought there, and in his presence and mine the Magistrate took down a statement from Williams—in my opinion he was not likely to recover, and I said so—he lingered till the next day, and died at six p.m.—I made a post-mortem—the cause of death was the shot, and acute peritonitis occasioned by the wound.
Cross-examined. At the time he made the declaration there was a very faint chance of his recovery—I did not tell him he was dying.
WILLIAM HUNT . I am usher at Dalston Police-court—on 19th January I served on the prisoner a notice, a copy of which is attached to the depositions; after that Mr. Bros, the Magistrate, attended at the hospital.
The statement of the deceased was read, in which he alleged that the other man (Rick shot him, and afterwards the prisoner pointed a revolver at him.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "All I can say is I am innocent; I never had a revolver in my life."
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT. Wednesday, March 6th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
301. MATTHEW TAYLOR (25), GEORGE TIMMS (36), JAMES O'BRIEN, ALBERT SALTER (18), and ALFRED SALTER (21) , Stealing 300 lb. of wool, and within six months 178 lb. of wool, the goods of the London and India Docks Company. Second Count, Receiving the same.
MESSRS GRAIN and KERSHAW Prosecuted; MR. BLACKWELL Defended Taylor; MR. RAYMOND Defended Timms; and MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and HUTTON Defended Albert and Alfred Salter.
CHARLES JAMES BEDBOROUGH . I am principal in the wool warehouse of the London Docks—Taylor was in the service of Mr. Duffield, a large carman who was employed by the company to take wool samples to the different brokers after the sales—Timms and O'Brien were labourers very generally employed in the wool department of the docks—after the periodical wool sales, buyers are in the habit of sending orders to the docks to sample what they purchase, to verify and identify their pur chases from the bulk—a sample of greasy wool weighs about 8 lb., and scoured wool about 6 lb.—each sample is done up in brown paper, and tied with string sideways and towards the ends and at the ends—certain marks and the initials of the persons are put on to identify them, and show where they are to be delivered—Timms and O'Brien assist in placing and place those samples in Taylor's van—when the van has received all the samples that have to be sent, they are entered in a receipt-book, of which this (produced) is a specimen, and Taylor drives the van away, accompanied by Timms and O'Brien, to assist with the delivery—it is the duty of Timms and O'Brien to take a receipt in this book from the person to whom the delivery is made, and when they have finished the delivery to bring the book at once to the docks, and for Taylor to come back as well—Taylor, Timms, and O'Brien had no right to touch these samples, except to deliver them—we have no such persons
entered in our books, on 6th and 7th February, as brokers to whom samples were sent as Salter, Vasey, or any such name—practically, all the wool-brokers are in three streets, Moorgate, Coleman, and Basinghall Streets.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. Taylor is a carman—it is merely his duty to drive the other men about—he is not under their orders if he goes away from the localities I have mentioned; as far as the wool I sent was concerned he was under their orders with that proviso—they would say where he was to stop, and he would take his orders from them—the parcels are not entirely closed—I have known Taylor six or seven years—I should expect him to know all the wool-brokers in London.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. Timms is responsible for the proper delivery of the samples; if he delivered them at a wrong place he would get them back again, he would not have to pay for them—I have never had an instance where he could not get them back—Taylor is the carman's representative; he is only responsible for driving the van, not for the delivery of the things—the samples are sent to brokers—on the 6th the police were watching the prisoners—the value of samples sent out on one day varies from 3s. to £1—they were going on 6th to several places in Moorgate and Basinghall Streets, and the neighbourhood.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have seen the sack taken at the two Salters'—there is no mark on it that I can identify—they are not sacks that we should use, or that we have in the docks.
GEORGE GEARING . I am sample foreman at the wool department of the London Docks—these books were handed to Timms and O'Brien on 6th and 7th February, when they left with Taylor's cart in the ordinary way—there are a number of entries there of samples to be taken to different places.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. Taylor merely had to drive the van—Timms had control of the loading and unloading of the wool—as regards its loading and delivery, Taylor merely took his orders from Timms and O'Brien—on 6th and 7th I gave the samples to Timms—I saw Taylor during the loading; he was not there the whole of the time—he got up and drove the van away.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. I put no addresses in the book, because they know those places—it is O'Brien's duty to hand the samples to Timms, and of Timms to help to load—I handed the book direct to Timms—I gave no instructions whatever to O'Brien—on the day in question they got back about, four—on the 7th this book was not handed to me when they came back—Timms has no control over Taylor, who is the representative of the contractor.
Re-examined. If O'Brien or Timms saw Taylor taking wool, it would be their duty to tell me about it—they have been at it for years, and know all the addresses.
GEORGE WOOLSTON . I am clerk to Messrs. Schwartz and Co., large wool-brokers, of Moorgate Street—on 6th and 7th February I received certain samples of wool—I am a pretty good judge of wool, and have had a good deal of experience—after feeling them I made a communication to my principals—the samples were light in weight.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I noticed at the time I checked them that they were light—on the 4th I did not notice it till my attention
was called, but on 5th, 6th, and 7th I did—I saw Taylor on the 7th—I won't swear I saw him on the 6th.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. I noticed the samples were short on the 6th before I signed.
THOMAS WHITE . I am a sampleman in the service of Willans and Overbury, wool-brokers, of Copthall Buildings—on 7th February some wool samples were delivered to me, and I signed for them in a receipt book on that day, I believe—I cannot say whether I noticed, on the 7th, some of them were light in weight—I saw O'Brien there on the 6th and 7th; I saw him almost every day, and Timms and the carman.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I noticed on the 4th especially that they were light, and from the 4th to the 7th I received the samples—on one occasion, from 5th to 7th, they were short weight—I did not weigh them—I can tell without weighing them they are 1 lb. or 1 1/2 lb. short—I signed for them; it is the trade habit to sign for samples when they come up—my suspicions were not aroused when they were delivered; not till I was checking them and they were signed for previous to checking.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. O'Brien and Timms handed the samples to me—as a rule they came up into the sample-room together—the ordinary weight of these samples would be 8 lb. if greasy, and 6 lb. if scoured—sometimes I had fifty, sometimes thirty samples a day from the docks—on the 7th I had thirty-five—in checking off I take each sample in my hand, put it down, and then check it off—they all come up together—I sign my initials for Willans and Overbury.
CHARLES PRATT . I am a sampleman in the service of Messrs. Buck stone and Ronald, wool-brokers, of Basinghall Street—on Wednesday, 6th February, I received twenty-four samples of wool from the docks, and on Thursday, 7th, twenty-one samples—I initialed these books for the receipt—on Wednesday, 6th, I weighed the samples after receipting the book, and found the samples were 35 lb. deficient in weight—on the 7th I weighed the samples, and found a deficiency of 15 lb.—I had reasons for weighing them—O'Brien on that day was assisting in delivering these samples, and I saw Timms—I don't think I saw Taylor—I knew him as coming to our place constantly.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. I did not see Taylor on either of those occasions—these samples were open at one end; a very little wool might drop out—we received twenty-four parcels on the 6th—more greasy wool would drop out than scoured, I think; the greasy sticks together more; a piece of greased is double the weight of a piece of scoured—the greased would not be more likely to fall out than scoured.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. O'Brien brought up the samples on 6th and 7th; Timms only gave me the book to sign.
RICHARD JOSEPH SIMMONS . I am sampleman in the employment of R. McDrew and Co., wool-brokers, of the Wool Exchange—on 7th February I received some samples—I tested the weight and found some of them deficient; one sample in particular was very light.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. One was light and the others very loose—I have not known parcels light previous to the 4th, not sufficient for me to notice it—the parcels come from the docks tied tight with the strings round the ends—these were loose—I have been six years at this place, and have never noticed string loose before, only when it has become
undone or got loose as it is brought upstairs—before the 4th they have always come up tight—I have never known a parcel come up loose only on the 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. O'Brien brought up the samples on the 7th—I weighed them because of certain suspicious circumstances; otherwise I should not—some of the samples were loose, and on account of their appearance I weighed some of them.
BAXTER HUNT (City Detective Sergeant). On Wednesday, 6th February, acting under instructions, I watched Taylor, Timms, and O'Brien with a van in Moorgate Street about noon—I watched deliveries made from the van at various places in the immediate neighbourhood—after leaving Basinghall Street I watched the van and the three men go to 75, Snow's Fields, Bermondsey—about two hundred yards before they reached there O'Brien got out—the van drove on to 75, where it stopped—Taylor got off the van and went to the rear of the van and took a full sack from the van into the shop occupied by the two Salters—Alfred Salter came out and took a sack off the van and took it into the shop, and Albert did likewise—the van was then driven round to the side turning almost opposite—Timms came from the direction of the van and crossed to the shop, No. 75—Alfred Salter met him in the middle of the road, and they went round to the corner where the van was—I left the place then; I did not see Taylor leave the shop, nor did I see O'Brien after he got out of the van two hundred yards from the shot)—after they had done delivering in the neighbourhood of Basinghall Street, as the van passed me there I saw three full sacks in it—one of them had a hole in it, and I could see it contained wool—on the 7th I again watched and saw Taylor driving the van, and Timms and O'Brien with him delivering wool in the City—I had three officers with me—the prisoners finished delivering the wool in the neighbourhood of Basinghall Street about two o'clock—the van then went in the direction of 75, Snow's Fields—O'Brien remained in Basinghall Street—the van stopped opposite to the Salters'; Taylor got down, went behind the van, took two sacks out, and took them into Salters' shop—Timms then drove the van round the corner of the street as before—I and Jones, a detective, entered the shop—Albert was standing by the weighing-machine weighing this larger sack, the other sack was lying down by the side—Taylor was lolling against the counter inside—I said to Albert, "Are you the proprietor of this shop? '—he said, "Yes, with my brother"—I said, "We are two police officers, and you will be charged with receiving this wool, knowing it to be stolen," and to Taylor, "And you will be charged with stealing it"—they made no reply—I went into a back room where Alfred was standing—I said to him, "Are you proprietor here?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You will also be charged with being concerned with your brother in receiving this wool, and you will also be charged with receiving three bags of wool yesterday"—he said, "It did not come here, I never had it; I don't see where my brother is responsible, as he is employed by me"—I went back to Albert and told him he would also be charged with receiving three bags the day previous—he said, "It did not come here; I don't know what it is to do with me, as I am in my brother's employ"—Timms at that time had been brought into the shop—I told him he would be charged with Taylor for stealing the wool, and he made no reply—we conveyed them
to Moor Lane Police-station—this van has a tarpaulin hood over the back, front, and sides, so that it is impossible to see into it except through the bottom rails, where I looked through.
Cross-examined by MR. BLACKWELL. My superior officer instructed me to watch the van—I watched it for two hours or more on the 6th in Moorgate, Coleman, and Basinghall Streets—I followed it all the time, and never left it from noon till three o'clock, when it was in Snow's Fields.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. Timms did not lift these things out of the van—he acted as driver after Taylor left it—he only drove it round the corner.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. The weighing-machine is just in the shop—if the door is open you can see it from the door—so far as the machine was concerned, there was no secrecy about it—I was fifty yards away—I could not see what was going on till I got opposite the door—when I got there, and they saw us, they all left off—I did not see the weighing-machine on the 6th—all I saw then was the sacks being taken out—Albert said Alfred was his master, and employed him—he bore out that statement.
DANIEL HALSE (City Detective). I was watching this van with Scrivener on 6th and 7th February—on the 7th I saw it drawn up at the Salters' premises—after the two bags were delivered at the shop Timms drove it into a side street—I got in front of it, and said to Timms, "I want to speak to you"—he was inside the van; he dropped the reins and ran to the tail of the van, and was in the act of jumping out when Scrivener caught him—I said, "You did not wait to hear what I had to say to you; we are police officers, and you will be charged with stealing wool"—I took him back into the Salters' shop, where Sergeant Hunt was—he made no reply—when the charge was read at the station to Taylor, Timms, and the Salters, Albert Salter said, "I was just going to look at the wool"—the others made no reply—I weighed the wool in the two sacks, it weighed, 178 lb., allowing 12 lb. for the sacks.
Cross-examined by MR. RAYMOND. There was only one seat in the van—no one else was in it—I stopped the horse and Scrivener stopped Timms.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Hunt was not with me when Albert said, "I was just going to look at the wool"—Jones and Scrivener were there.
JOHN JONES (City Detective)I kept watch on these men from 4th to 7th—on the 8th I went with Hunt, to the wool floor, London Docks, where we took O'Brien—Hunt told him he would be charged with stealing bags of wool yesterday—he said, "I did not go with them"—Hunt said, "You will be further charged with being concerned in stealing three bags the day before yesterday"—O'Brien said, "I did not see any sacks in the van"—on the way to Moor Lane station he said, "I see what they want to do; they want to make a dupe of me; I shall speak tho truth; of course I knew it was wool in the sacks; I did not know where they were going to take it to; they told me they were going to see their cousin; and I thought they were going to take the wool back to the brokers; I have only been over there three times with them, once last sale and once the sale before; they always put me out of the van at the pub. by the corner—
I never had a farthing of the money"—in reply to the charge at the station he said, "I shall speak the truth."
O'BRIEN, in his defence, asserted his innocence, and said that he was out of the van, delivering the samples nearly all the time.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
HOPE PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted, and MR. VESEY Defended.
HENRY GIFFEN (Policeman J R 9). At 6.15 a.m. on 1st February I was standing at the corner of Goldsmith's Row with Cullen, and I saw the prisoners coming up Goldsmith's Row together; Hope carried a bundle tied up in a table-cover—I stopped Hope, and asked what he had in the bundle—he said, "I don't know"—Williams was about four yards ahead then—I cannot say if he could hear what was said—he said, "The other man asked me to carry it to Shoreditch," meaning the other prisoner—by that time Williams was brought back to me by Cullen—I asked Williams what was in the bundle—he said, "I don't know; I don't know this man"—I told him I should take him to the station, as I did not feel satisfied—at the station I found in the bundle three pairs of boots, two table-covers, two tablecloths, twenty knives, three forks, a silver teaspoon, salt-spoon, tea-scoop, antimacassar, piece of wool-work, plated teapot, reading glass, pair of scissors, and wool tassel—it was a large bundle, as much as I could carry—in Hope's pocket I found, at the station, a reading-glass and half a dozen knives—Williams, when charged, said he should refuse his address; he afterwards gave a false address—Hope gave a false address—I could not hear anything of them—I was present when Williams was searched—half a dozen glass cruet bottles belonging to the cruet-stand found in the bundle, a jemmy and a knife were found in his pocket—the blade of the knife fitted marks I saw on the window—Rhoda Bailey, the servant, identified the property at the station.
Cross-examined. I will swear that when Hope said, "That man asked me to carry the bundle to Shoreditch, "Williams was not twenty yards ahead—I had previously asked him to tell me what was in the bundle—after that Williams was brought back 14 yards; it did not take long to do that—when I first saw the prisoners they were 100 yards, perhaps, from the house, in the same street—Williams' proper name is Henry Lewis; I have not found out where he lives—I have not found out anything against his character.
JOHN CULLEN (Policeman J 252) I was with Giffen, and corroborate him—I brought Williams to the station, searched and found on him a jemmy, six glass bottles belonging to the cruet-stand, and a knife, the blade of which fitted some marks on the window.
Cross-examined. Williams made no attempt to get away—he was four or five yards away from Hope when I arrested him.
RHODA BAILEY I am employed by Edwin Saunders at 65, Goldsmith's Row—at 10 o'clock on 31st January I closed the house and saw that all was fast—I came down at 7.30 next morning, and saw on the mat some stockings with the feet cut off, the street door open, umbrellas turned out of the stand into the hall—I told my mistress and fetched a constable, and before he had been in the house ten minutes another constable came and said it was all right, they had the men and the things—I went to the station and identified the things—the kitchen window (which was closed and all right the night before, except that the hinge of the shutter was broken and the shutter was up on the sill showing part of the window) was half open and the shutter down—all these things belong to my master—they were all safe when I went to bed and I missed them in the morning.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN HOPE, the prisoner. I have pleaded guilty to this charge—no body was with me when I broke into this house on the night of 1st February—after leaving the house I met "Williams 10 or 15 yards from the house, and asked him if he would carry the articles that were found on him—I was carrying the large bundle, nothing else—I offered to give him a shilling—he said it would be going a little out of his way, but he would come with me—I had the things found on Williams in my pocket; I took them out and gave them to him to carry, there were four or five bottles all tied up together.
Cross-examined. The policeman made a false statement when he said I said Williams asked me to carry the bundle—I gave Williams the jemmy—he did not say anything; I told him to put them in his pocket—I told the policeman through excitement that I was asked to carry the things for another man, but before the Magistrate and at the police-station I pleaded guilty—I was not asked any question about Williams—he was asked if he had any question, and he said he would reserve his questions for the trial—I did not know Williams before; he was a perfect stranger to me.
ISAAC LIPMAN . I am a boot and shoe maker, of 10, Marion Street, Hackney Road—I have lived there for twenty-two or twenty-three years—I let rooms unfurnished there—in January last Williams had been one of my lodgers since August—I believe he went to work during and towards the end of January; he went out soon after six—on 1st February he went out soon after six—I could walk from my place to the Goldsmith Road in three or four minutes—I do not know where he worked—I have never heard anything against him—I knew him as Harry Lewis.
Cross-examined. I recollect Friday, 1st February, because Williams said to me on the Thursday evening that he was very busy, and he should go out early next morning; he had some work he wanted to get in—he usually went out earlier at the latter end of the week—I got up about 6.15; he was gone then, but he passes my door to go out, and I heard him pass my bedroom door about five, six, or seven minutes after six—I was downstairs at twenty minutes past—on Monday, 31st January, he went out about 6.30, and about the same time on 30th and 29th.
ROBERT LEWIS . I am a wood-carver, of 89, St. John's Road, Hoxton—I know Williams as Lewis—he has worked for me from last October to the day before his arrest—he came to work the first part of the week
from 6.30 to 8, but the latter part I had to get my work finished, and he came from 6 to 6.30—on 1st February I expected him at six—I paid him 12s., or sometimes 14s. a week and his food—I always found him hard working, honest, and sober.
Cross-examined. I am his brother.
By the Court My workshop is about a mile from Mr. Lipman's.
GUILTY .—HOPE— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
WILLIAMS— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
303. ALFRED CECIL WILMOT (22) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Samuel Lillistone, and stealing a coat and other articles, his property, after a conviction of felony in January, 1888, in the name of Wilson.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, March 6th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
305. ROBERT HUTCHINSON** and CHARLES BURCHELL** to robbery, without violence, on Bernard Smoskewitch, and stealing a watch and chain, Hutchinson having been convicted at the Middlesex Sessions on 26th July, 1886.— Five Years each in Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
306. ADA MARTIN was again indicted (See page 342) for unlawfully attempting to obtain an order for the payment of £50 by false pretences. Mr. Besley offered no evidence, the prisoner being the wife of George Martin, who
PLEADED GUILTY last Session.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
JOHN BOYD HAYNES . I keep the Jubilee Arms, Jubilee Street, Stepney—on 11th January, about 6 p.m., the prisoner came in and asked for half a pint of ale and a newspaper; he then had a second half pint, and snatched my watch and ran out—I have not seen it since—I heard that a man was in custody, and went to Guildhall; a number of men were placed together, and I picked out the prisoner without any difficulty—he did not take my chain, it broke from the bow and hung down; he made a savage grab at it—I ran after him, but could see nothing of him.
CHARLES SAMUEL MOORE . I am a grocer, of 294, Oxford Street, Stepney—on 11th January I was in the Jubilee Arms, and saw the prisoner there—I am quite sure of him—he asked for beer, and I saw him standing with his back to the partition, reading a newspaper apparently—I went out for five minutes, and when I came back he had gone—I afterwards picked him out at Guildhall from a number of others.
Prisoner's Defence "I know nothing about it I have never seen the man or the house I work at the water side."
308. THOMAS WILLIAMS was again indicted, with JOHN RYAN (25) , for breaking and entering the shop of Thomas Von Pragh, and stealing eight bracelets, nine chains, and a bottle, his property. Second Count, Receiving the same.
WILLIAMS PLEADED GUILTY to the larceny only.
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
CHARLES HESTER . I am manager to Mr. Von Praagh, of 10, Masons' Avenue, City—about 6 p.m on Saturday, January 26th, I locked up the shop safely, and left; everything was then in order—I returned about 8.45 on the Monday morning, and found a hole in the plate-glass window, large enough to admit a man's hand, and some jewellery was gone—these eight silver bracelets, nine chains, and bottle, are part, and are Mr. Von Praagh's property—they had been three or four inches from the glass.
Cross-examined by Williams. It is ordinary plate-glass—this knife (produced would break it if used with force.
JOHN WISE (City Policeman). On Monday, January 28th, two or three minutes before 7 a.m., I was in Coleman Street with Knight, and saw Ryan about 100 yards from Mr. Von Praagh's shop going in that direction—I received information five minutes afterwards, and found the window had been broken by a blow from outside, and the pieces had been then pulled out, making a hole nine or ten inches—about two o'clock I found Ryan in custody at Worship Street—he was handed to me as a City officer—I said to him, "I saw you this morning in Coleman Street about seven o'clock"—he said, "Oh, I know where I was at seven, and at half-past seven, too; I know nothing about the other man"—Williams was in custody, and charged with him—he said, "I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined by Ryan When I met you I had just passed the window, and it was all right then—it was a dark morning.
JOHN MURPHY (Detective Officer On 28th February I saw the two prisoners in Mile End Road, about 10 a.m., and from their suspicious movements I watched them—they walked backwards and forwards, and stopped and spoke to each other—I followed them to the Assembly Hall, where Ryan stopped a man and spoke to him for a few minutes, while Williams stood a few yards away—Ryan left and went to Williams, who took this bundle from his right coat pocket and handed it to Ryan, who took it to the man he had stopped; they both looked at it for a few minutes—the other man left and walked towards Mile End; Ryan joined Williams again, and they walked along Mile End Road—I followed them into Whitechapel Road, and spoke to a uniform constable, who followed me—I stopped Williams and said, "I am a police officer, I want to know what you have got in the bundle in your coat pocket"—he struggled to getaway, and tried to throw the bundle away—I took him inside the hospital railings for safety, and Vickers brought Ryan back—the bundle contained these silver bracelets and chains—I asked Williams where he got them; he made no reply—I had not heard of the robbery then, and charged them with the unlawful possession of them—they made no
reply—Ryan said at the station, "I was not with him at all"—he was handed over to Harding; I saw the bundle handed back to Williams, who put it in his pocket.
JAMES VICKERS (Policeman J 139). Murphy called my attention to the prisoners; he took Williams, and I caught Ryan, who was running away—I said, "What do you want to run away for?" and he said, "I have not done anything"—I found nothing on Ryan, but on Williams, at the station, I found some bracelets, chains, a pocket-handkerchief, two knives, a sack rolled up, and two knives, one with an iron handle.
Cross-examined by Williams. You could break a plate-glass window with this knife.
WILLIAM HARDING (City Detective). The prisoners were handed over to me, the offence having been committed in the City—going to the station Williams said, "The handkerchief containing jewellery was given to me by a man named Bob, I do not know his other name, in a coffee house, where I had my breakfast, at Bow."
Williams, in his defence, stated that he did not mean to plead guilty to stealing the goods, but only to having them in his possession, and that a man gave them to him about 7.30 that morning, in a coffee-house, and asked him to take them to Aldgate. Ryan, in his defence, said that coming out of a public house in Love Lane he ran against Williams, who was carrying this handker chief, who told him to put it in his pocket, but he did not see the contents, and that he ran away when Williams was taken.—
RYAN then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Clerkenwell on 27th September, 1886, of possessing housebreaking implements— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. WILLIAMS —Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. (The Court commended Murphy's conduct.
WATSON PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. BLACKWOOD Prosecuted.
DENNIS JOHN HAYES . I live at 54, Pellerin Road, Stoke Newington, and am a purse and pocket-book manufacturer—on 19th January I went to bed at 1.15 a.m.—I was the last person up, and saw everything safe—about 7 a.m. my mother spoke to me, and I went down to the back parlour, and found a lamp burning, and the wash-house window open—I missed two overcoats from the passage, which I have seen since—this is one of them—I saw it at King's, the pawnbrokers—I also missed fourteen purses, five pocket-books, two or three brooches, and a pair of earrings, which were on a piano in the back parlour—a pair of boots was left, and a pair of mine taken away—one of the brooches was a gilt rupee—the wash-house window was perfectly shut, but the button would not act; it required great force to open it.
ERNEST WATSON . I have pleaded guilty to this charge—when I was arrested I made this statement to the detective, which was taken down and I signed it. (Read, "I, Ernest Watson, say that the man here, who I know by the name of Jack, and who was lodging with me at Campbell's lodging-house, Drury Lane, went with me to No. 54, Pellerin Road, Stoke Newington, on a Friday night, over a week ago; we went through some new buildings at the side and broke into No. 56, through the back window, about 1.30 a.m., on the Saturday morning We stole
a number of purses, two coats, a gold-gilt rupee piece made into a brooch, another brooch, and a pair of earrings. This man was with me and went into the house, brought some of the property away, and had a fair share of the profits. I make this statement without pressure, voluntarily, and regardless of consequences, and affix my signature thereto, ERNEST WATSON.") That statement is not correct. Morton is the man I know as Jack, and I intended to convey to the detective that he was the man who was with me when the burglary was committed. The other prisoner's name is Jack, and he sells newspapers in Piccadilly Circus, and lives in the same lodging as me. I did not tell Williams that I was alone, till I was asked.
CHARLES NUTKINS (Police Sergeant Y). On 29th January, about 1 a.m., I took Watson on another charge—he made a statement to me, and gave me a description, in consequence of which I went with Taylor to Piccadilly Circus, where he took Morton, who made no reply, but twenty minutes afterwards, when he was charged, he said, "I shall reserve my defence."
Cross-examined. You did not ask whether you could make a statement, nor did I say that your statement would be no good, as I would sooner believe Watson than you—you made no statement nor attempted to make any.
JOHN TAYLOR (Detective Y. I went with Nutkins and arrested Morton—I said, "I am a police officer, and shall take you in custody for being concerned with a man named Watson, for breaking into a house at Dalston, and stealing a quantity of purses"—he said, "I don't know Watson"—we walked a little way towards Kentish Town, and I said, "Have not you lived in a lodging-house in Campbell Street, Drury Lane?"—he said, "Yes, some time ago," and then he said, "Have he rounded on me?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I never rounded on a pal; the purses were all over the table in the kip (meaning the lodging-house); anyone could have had them"—I told him he would hear what Watson said when he got to the station—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station; he was placed alongside Watson, who made the statement, which was read over to him, and he signed it—they were both charged; and Morton said, "I shall reserve my defence"—I afterwards took Mr. Hayes to King's pawnshop, where he identified this coat.
GEORGE ROLLINSON . I am a labourer, and live at the Ship Hotel, Chichester Rents, Chancery Lane—on 6th January I saw Morton at the Ship with a man named Kennedy, who asked me if I would buy a pawn ticket—I gave him 1s. for it in Morton's presence. (This was for a coat pledged for 5s.—I had known Kennedy for years, but had not seen him for two or three years—I afterwards identified Morton at Dalston Police court.
Cross-examined. Kennedy did not say that the coat was stolen; he said it was his own, and that he was very hard up—he sold another coat to a friend of mine, and it was detained by the pawnbroker—I gave the ticket to Nutkins.
Morton, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in a written defence, stated that he lodged in the same house as Watson, and went to bed about 11 o'clock on 18th January, and when he came down next morning at 7 o'clock he saw Watson
and another man looking at a number of purses on a table, and asked where they got them, and was told to mind his own business, and saw no more of Watson till he was in custody; that he denied knowing a man named Watson, as he only knew him as Charles Baker, and he denied saying, "Has my pal rounded on me?"
MORTON NOT GUILTY .
WATSON then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Marlborough Street in July, 1887; he also
PLEADED GUILTY to another indictment for burglary.— Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted.
SAMUEL WATERMAN (Policeman G 241). On Sunday, 27th January, about 12.45 a.m., I was on duty with King, both in plain clothes, on Pentonville Hill, and saw the two prisoners round the prosecutor—we ran across—Wood was holding the prosecutor's arm, and pinned him to the railings, and as near as I could see Melson was trying to rifle his pockets—Wood then threw him on the ground backwards, and he fell in the middle of the road in Weston Street—I took Wood, and King took Melson—Wood made no reply, but tried to get away—we struggled, and fell several times, and Creecher went to the station for assistance—I never lost sight of Wood—this was 20 or 40 yards down Weston Street, five minutes' walk from the Foresters' Arms.
EDWARD KING (Policeman G 310). I was with Waterman, and saw Wood holding the prosecutor against the rails—Melson appeared to be rifling his pockets—Wood then threw the old man on the ground—I got hold of Melson, and told him I was a police officer—I had no sooner said the words than he threw me to the ground—we struggled in the road for several minutes—he kicked me as he got up, and got away, but was taken and returned to me—I never lost sight of him—he was sober; in fact, he ran.
Cross-examined by Melson. You were stopped by another constable at the corner of Southampton Street—I knew you directly you came out of the cells on the Monday morning.
JOHN FENN . I live at 37, Margaret Street, Clerkenwell—on the Sunday morning I had had a drop too much, and was attacked going home at the corner of Weston Street—I cannot swear to the prisoners, but my pockets were turned inside out, I was thrown into the middle of the road, and my head struck against the stone roadway—I had some money in my waistcoat pocket, and what I had in my trousers pocket I don't know—I had one shilling in one pocket, and I recollect changing a half-crown—if I lost anything it was not a great deal.
Cross-examined by Wood. I was picked up in a state of insensibility and detained at the station—when I came to I had 1s. 3 1/2 d., but what I had in my other pockets was taken before they were turned out.
AUGUSTA CREECHER (Interpreted). My husband is a tailor, of 11, Sea brook Street, Clerkenwell—on 26th January, near 1 a.m., I was going home, and saw Mr. Fenn in the road apparently drunk—Melson hit him in the face and then took hold of him, led him down the road and began examining his pockets, to which he objected and began calling out; he fell, and Wood lifted him up and dragged him into a dark street—Melson then looked at the corner to see if anybody was coming—I saw two police
men standing at the corner, but I did not know they were policemen—I told them what I had seen, and they advanced on the prisoners, who walked away very sharply; that was after the struggle—they threw the police down in the road, who asked me to go to the station and fetch assistance, which I did; I am quite sure the prisoners are the men—Melson had Mr. Fenn against the wall, and was examining his pockets; no other men were there.
Witnesses for Melson.
CHARLES GOULD . I am a carman, of Southampton Street, Pentonville—I met Melson about 12.40 on this night, and was with him twenty minutes—he went towards Southampton Street, which was his nearest way home—he was very drunk, and I don't think he was capable of bringing anyone into a by-street—he was with Tuperry and another man who I do not know, but it was not Wood—he could not walk it in five minutes the way he went, but I daresay he could do it in ten.
Cross-examined. I have known him about two months—this was Saturday night, January 25th—I met him at the bottom of George Street, and was with him from ten to twenty minutes—I won't say it was more than five minutes.
WILLIAM RODWAY . I am a carpenter, of 23, Winford Road, Caledonian Road—on the Saturday night I left Melson at 12 o'clock; he was then so helpless that he could not stand, and I had to hold him up against the wall—it would be impossible for him to drag a man into a by-street—I had been with him all the evening, and some others—I was putting a partition up in a public-house, and I left off at 9 o'clock, and stopped there till 12—he gave me a hand from 3 o'clock to 7 or 8 to put up the partition.
Cross-examined. He parted from me at 12 o'clock at the Foresters' Arms, Southampton Street, about five minutes' walk from Weston Street—we were in the public-house from nine to twelve with a lot of chaps, drinking—I never left the house, nor did he—I was having a smoke for three hours, and the landlord and I were having a chat.
Wood's Defence. The witness says Melson was holding the man, and the constable says that I was holding him. I could not stand at the corner of the street and hold the man at the same time. The prosecutor could not recognise anybody on the Monday.
Melson's Defence. It was impossible for me to throw the man, and drop him again; I was in such a drunken state.
WOOD GUILTY *— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MELSON received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. POYNTER offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 7th, 1889.
Before Mr. Justice Mathew.
312. ALFRED LYSTER (40), JAMES CLARK (33), and CHARLES BURDETT (.53), were indicted for feloniously wounding George Duckworth Atkin, with intent to murder Other Counts, with intent to maim and disable.
CLARK PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. MEAD and GILL Prosecuted; MR. HUTTON Defended Lyster and MR. HURRELL Defended Burdett.
EDWARD HARLOWE (Acting Sergeant Y. I have had experience in preparing plans—I have prepared a plan showing the house, Norton Lees, Muswell Hill, the grounds surrounding it, and the Norton Lees Road—this plan correctly shows the position of the house, the drive up to it, the shrubs outside the windows, also the tennis lawn, and the private road at the side—it is to the scale of a quarter of an inch to the yard.
ALICE JONES . I am a housemaid, in the service of Mr. Atkin, of Norton Lees—on the afternoon of 8th January I closed the bedroom window of Miss Beatrice Atkin's room—I fastened the catch—about twenty minutes past seven the same evening the room door was open and the window still shut—about ten minutes past eight my attention was attracted to the room; I went to the door and found it shut and fastened so that I could not get in—I went to the door in consequence of hearing an alarm—at twenty minutes past seven the gas in the room was rather low.
HARRY WEIGHT ATKIN I am senior partner in the firm of Atkin Brothers, of Sheffield, and reside at Norton Lees, Muswell Hill—on the evening of 8th January I was at home—about 8 o'clock I left the house with my son Sannyer—as we got into the drive my son called my attention to the window of my daughter's bedroom, which is just over the room where we had been supping—I saw that it was wide open, and I went back and tapped at the-library window—I then came back into the path in front of the house, and looked again at the window, and I saw two men get out on to the window-sill—I called out "George" to my son, who was working in a shed in the yard—as I called out the men on the window-sill fired at me—I can't say for certain whether both fired; I was watching one man only; I believe both men fired, but I won't swear that—I firmly believe that two shots were fired at the same time, but could not swear it—they then fired again, a second time; I saw the motion of the man's arm; I believe three shots were fired—one man facing my right then jumped down or got down, and disappeared—my son Sannyer was to my right—we were both standing close to a bed in the middle of the road; I stood in front of a tree—the next thing I saw was the man still on the window-sill fire in the direction of my son Sannyer, that was to my right; then I heard a scuffle, and my son called out, "There is one of them"; and I followed him on towards the gate; that was after the third shot from the man I was watching—I did not see the man come from where he had got down, it was too dark—the scuffle was five or six yards from me—I did not see that man get away; after the third shot he vanished—I don't know how he got down, I could not see him—while the men that had shot at me were getting down the scuffle was taking place to my right, and when I heard that I went towards the scuffle—I noticed my son Sannyer going to the gate, and I went after him—I did not see anyone in front of him—when I got to the gate I saw my son running after somebody—I watched him running up the road, and then I turned back towards the house—as I was returning I heard a shot that seemed to come from near the yard-door, on the right of the house as you face it—a few seconds after that I heard another shot on the lawn, and two or
three seconds after that another shot—then in a minute or so I went into the house, and there saw my son George—I saw that he had been wounded in the chest, and I sent for the police and for Dr. Hall—I do not identify any of the men—the gas in the bedroom was on full.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Three shots were fired from the window, two at me and one at my son—three shots were fired by one man, and I believe the other man also fired, but I cannot swear it; that would be four shots altogether—I can't say whether the two first flashes came from the same pistol or from two—I know one man fired deliberately twice at me—I believe there were three shots almost together, but, considering it did not take perhaps half a minute, I should not like to say whether there were two first and one afterwards; I was watching one man only.
SANNYER ATKIN . I live with my father at Norton Lees—on Tuesday, 8th January, at a few minutes past eight, I was leaving the house with my father—on looking towards the house as I came out I saw that the window of my sister's bedroom was open—I drew my father's attention to it, and he went back to the house—I then saw a man get out from the window and stand on the ledge—the light in the room was turned full on—two men stood on the ledge before anything happened; then two shots were fired, I believe by two men, but I could not swear to that—at the same time a man came out of the bushes a little to the right of the window, and I followed him to the gate—the two shots from the window were fired in the direction of my father and myself—we were standing just in front of the bed facing the house, close to the bed in the centre of the drive—when I pursued the man to the gate he pointed something at me and threatened to blow my brains out—at the gate I turned back on seeing one of the men get down from the ledge, and I chased him—he came along the drive and passed me, and joined the other man at the gate—I had a stick in my hand—the first man paused at the gate, and held it open till he was joined by the other—then they got out and ran away, and I ran after them—I followed them to the Muswell Hill Road; at the corner of the two roads one of the men turned round and snapped a pistol or revolver at me—he did not say anything—I saw that he had a weapon in his hand, and heard it—I followed them part of the way up the Muswell Hill Road—they went through a hedge; it was a thorny hedge—when the man pointed the revolver at me I shouted at them, and told them they were cowards, and told them to fight me properly, like men—on the first occasion that I was examined before the Magistrates at High gate I did not mention having said that to the men; I did not mention it on principle—at a later stage I was recalled and stated it.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I did not say there were four men—there was one man in the bushes—I only saw one of the men come from the roof to the ground—I was perhaps twenty yards from the men in the road when I uttered the words—I only heard the first man speak, that was when he pointed the firearm at me—he said, "Stand back, or I will blow your brains out"—I did not hear the words—"Come back, Jim, and shoot him."
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. Both the men I followed got over the fence.
Re-examined. Those words, "Come back, Jim, and shoot him," might have been used without my hearing them.
GEORGE DUCKWORTH ATKIN I am a stock-jobber, and live at Norton Lees—on the night of 8th January I was in a workshop at the side of the house—about eight o'clock I heard three shots—I heard my father call out—I was inside the shed when I heard the first and second shots—I then went outside, and heard my father call me—I went across the fowl yard into the house-yard—on my way there I heard another shot; that would be the fourth—I opened the side gate, leading into the front garden, and I heard somebody behind a bush on my left—I made a feint of entering on one side, and ran round the other to catch whoever might come out on that side—I had to go round the bush at the back, and while I was at the back of the bush I heard a report of firearms again, and a bullet entered my abdomen—a man ran from behind the bush, about two or three feet from me—I followed him across the front of the house—he broke down a little wire-gate, fastened by a rope, and ran across the lawn, in a direction towards a cistern—the gate leads on to the tennis lawn—half way across the lawn he turned sharp round, aimed a pistol at me and fired; that bullet entered my chest—he continued running, I followed, and at the edge of the lawn he turned sharp round again and aimed at my head, but did not hit me—he then ran across the path into some bushes, where I lost sight of him—when the two first shots were fired at me he was behind a moderate-sized bush, and could not have been more than two or three feet from me—when he fired at me crossing the lawn I should say he was from five to ten feet from me; when the pistol was fired at my head the flash was so near me that I could not see for half a second afterwards, and he ran into the bushes, and I did not see any thing more of him—I then walked back to the house—the bush we were behind was a large laurel tree, about six feet high and six feet wide—the bushes close to the yard gate were mixed, laurels and various sorts—there is a holly-tree close to the window of the breakfast-room underneath the bedroom, and there may be two or three others there—a person jumping from the window would go into a bush there.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have not been able to identify either of the men, it was a dark night—Lyster was placed among a number of other men—I picked out another man about the same size.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL I am sure I heard four shots; I did not know where they were fired from then, I was in the shed and could not see the window.
Re-examined When I picked out the wrong man I went by size, not by features; I am a little shortsighted.
BEATRICE ATKIN . It was my bedroom that was entered on this occasion—I left my purse in a top drawer in the dressing-table—it was a purse very much like this (produced—the same size and everything; it contained a Jubilee four-shilling piece, a glove button-hook, and some other money, I don't know how much; I had seen my purse safe about ten minutes to seven that evening—I missed a coral bead necklace belonging to my sister the same evening—these beads (produced) are very similar to them.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. The necklace contained about fifty beads; there were two rows similar to these—these are of an ordinary character; there is nothing particularly rare about them.
a money-box in a drawer in my bedroom, containing about 7s. 6d. in silver and copper—that was taken on this night, also my coral necklace.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have seen such curling pins before—the one I lost was like this.
CHARLES MILLER (Police Inspector Y. On 8th January, in consequence of information I received, I went to Norton Lees—on the morning of the 9th I examined the house and found a rough-made ladder against the bay window, and underneath the upper bedroom window, which had been entered; it could be reached by that ladder—the window was fastened by an ordinary catch; it had been forced back by placing a knife between the sashes—at the bottom of the ladder there was a hole in the mud, and the shrubs were broken—I traced footmarks across the tennis lawn and over a wooden fence of the next house, Roseneath—from what was said to me by young Mr. Atkin I looked at the fence in the Muswell Hill Road, and about eighty yards from the corner of Norton Lees Road the fence, which is a dead fence, was broken down as if somebody had fallen through it.
CHARLES TAYLOR . On 8th January I was timekeeper at some new buildings in the Muswell Hill Road—William Meen was watchman there—I left at four that afternoon, leaving a ladder there, what is termed a Jacob's ladder—I saw it next day at Norton Lees, and fetched it away.
KATE GERTRUDE BASTERVILLE BARNARD . (Mr. Hutton objected to the relevancy of the evidence which this witness was about to give, as it related to events occurring at Bristol some days before the night in question. Mr. Mead pressed it as showing the connection of the prisoners with each other. Mr. Justice Mathew considered the evidence relevant, and admitted it. I am the wife of Arthur Barnard—in December last I was staying with my mother at 4, Clifton Park, Bristol—there are some grounds round the house—on the evening of the 19th December I was in the drive in the grounds and saw a man who appeared to be watching the house—there was a light in a room opposite where he was watching, which gave me an opportunity of seeing him clearly—I stopped and watched him for about a minute—he turned his head and saw me, and immediately went away from me—I waited to hear if the door bell rang, and not hearing it I followed him into the area—that man was Lyster—next day, the 20th, about ten minutes to six, I was in the drawing-room—from something that was told me I called the footman and went out and saw some men, apparently three—we all rushed out to the gate together—I found the footman holding one of the men, it was Burdett—I heard him say, "It was not me, some man ran out at the gate and knocked me down"—on the occasion when I saw Lyster, in addition to there being a light it was a clear night, there was also a light in the porch—I have no doubt whatever that Lyster is the man I saw.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. He was standing about three paces from the house—I walked up on the carriage drive, it was not loose gravel, it was a hard carriage drive—he was standing in the drive about ten paces from me and about twenty paces from the area; I saw him go down the steps—I have no doubt he is the man—I am quite certain, but I object to swear to him—I said at the Police-court that I was perfectly certain he was the man; I was asked if I would swear to him, and I said I objected to swear to him, or I should not like to swear to him, words
to that effect possibly; I cannot say—I object to swear to any man I saw there; it is not because I am not certain.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. I said I thought Burdett was not so tall as the man the footman held, because I did not see at that moment that he was half sitting down on something in the room, or half leaning—the night was very rainy and dark—I said at first the man was not tall enough, and the police then said, "Stand up"—I am not aware that after he stood up I said he was not tall enough—I don't think it is likely that I did, because I think he is tall enough.
Re-examined. When he stood up I said that he was the height of the man—I heard his voice when he spoke to the footman, and I heard his voice afterwards at the station—it was the same voice.
ARTHUR SPATFORD . I live at Bristol—on 20th December last, about ten minutes to six, I was in Clifton Park—I heard a scuffle in the garden of 4, Clifton Park, and a shout of "Thieves" and "Police"—I looked round, and saw five or six men apparently trying to get over the gate—all but one ran in the direction of Bristol—I joined the chase in pursuit of the fifth man—I chased him up against Christchurch palings, where there was no turning—he then doubled and got into the centre of the road, and drew out a pistol from his pocket and presented it, and said he would shoot me if I advanced—he then turned round immediately and escaped—I pursued him, but he got away—I believe I noticed one of the other men who went in the contrary direction, but I am not prepared to swear to him—I afterwards went to the Highgate Police-station and was shown a number of men—I picked out Lyster as the man who presented the pistol—I also picked out Clark as the man I saw running in the other direction, but I am not prepared to swear to him.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON Lyster had a big dark coat on—that was the first night I saw him—I believe I picked him out of five or six men at Highgate—the men were all together when I saw them at the gate—I could not tell you how many I saw at Highgate had on dark coats with velvet collars—I looked at them all—some had black coats; I could not say how many—all this happened very quickly at Bristol, I should say in three-quarters of a minute—I did not see Lyster at the gate to recognise him; they were all running, and getting over the gate—my attention was first attracted by hearing the scuffle—I then saw the men running down the road—they had their backs to me then—the first time I saw Lyster's face and recognised him was when he turned round at the railings—he drew something out of his pocket, and presented it—I can't say definitely it was a pistol, the light was not sufficient—he said he would fire if I advanced—I should say the majority of the men I saw at Highgate were working-men.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL About five or six men altogether were running away—it was a dark wet night.
Re-examined When I gave my decision at the Highgate Police-station I was guided by the face alone.
AMOS RASELL I am manager to a pawnbroker at Victoria Street, Bristol—I know Lyster and Clark—on 19th December last Lyster came to the shop and pledged a signet-ring for 4s., in the name of Henry Coutts, Coffee Tavern, Bristol—to the best of my belief this is the ring
(produced)—I gave him a duplicate—I have the original—on the 20th it was redeemed by Lyster, and pawned again the same evening with some clothes for 16s.—they were redeemed on the 22nd, through the medium of a London pawnbroker—after these men were charged I picked Lyster out of a number of men.
GEORGE ALFRED MANN . I am a pawnbroker at Hoxton—on 21st December a man called on me, giving the name of Coutts—he asked me to send for a parcel from the country, to be pawned—I identified that man at the station; it was Clark—I had some conversation with him, and he gave me a pawn-ticket and 16s.—I forwarded that to Bristol, and received a parcel back, containing, among other things, this signet ring—Clark fetched them on the 24th December.
JOHN HALL , M. D. On the night of 8th of January I was called to the house of Mr. Atkin—I there saw Mr. George Atkin—he was suffering from the effects of two gunshot wounds; one in the chest, on the right side, and the other in the abdomen—he was in a state of collapse for an hour and a half—Sir William McCormack came and saw him—he was under my care for some time—after an interval an operation was performed, and the bullet was removed from the chest—this (produced) is the bullet—I marked it; it is a smooth bullet—the wound was a very dangerous one—the other wound was such as would be produced by a similar bullet; that bullet still remains in the abdomen; that was a most dangerous wound—Mr. Atkin was in a dangerous state for some time after, and was not able to give evidence for about a month.
MATILDA RYSSOP . I am the wife of Frank Ryssop, of 4, Huntingdon Street, Kingsland Road—I let lodgings—in October I had a furnished room to let, which I called the ante-room, at the back, on the ground floor—Lyster called and agreed to take it—he arrived the same day, Saturday, with Mrs. Lyster, and they occupied that room for three weeks, after that Mrs. Lyster was taken ill and went to the hospital—Lyster still occupied the room—a few days after Mrs. Lyster had left the prisoner Clark came, I did not know his name, but Lyster called him Jim—they occupied the room together; there was only one bed in the room—they occupied the room until Mrs. Lyster returned, that was the first Friday in the New Year, the 4th of January—while she was away Lyster and Clark were absent; they went the Monday week before Christmas, and returned either on the Thursday or Friday night, the 21st or 22nd December, I am not certain which—they made no statement to me then as to where they were going or where they had been—a fortnight before that Lyster said he was going in the country, he did not know how long he should be away, he would send me a telegram—I recollect the 8th January—Lyster and Clark went out together that day about dinner time, the middle of the day—I saw Mrs. Lyster that evening about five first, and then about six; my little girl fetched her upstairs, and she sat with me till after nine—I just caught sight of Lyster again that night; I could not say the time exactly, but I should say near ten, or about ten—I was just going to the door, but his wife let him in—after that I heard some one come into the room, I can't say who it was—on the morning of the 9th I found that a fire had been used in Chark's room, and I found this frame (produced),)I raked it out of the grate, it might be a purse frame; I also found two tips of boots and a boot lace—I did not notice anything else particular—I threw it all on the ashes in the yard; the frame
I kept, the tips I threw away in the ashes—I put what I removed to the dust heap in a piece of newspaper—I did not notice what newspaper it was—I afterwards gave the purse frame to the police—I did not notice any coral beads—I found some clothes in the room; there was an overcoat, I did not notice its condition, it was folded up; I gave it as I found it to Police-Sergeant Gould, also two pairs of trousers, a coat besides the overcoat, a waistcoat and two round hats, one brown and the other black—on the 9th Clark did not sleep at home, Lyster did, with his wife—I saw Lyster on the 10th, Thursday, after ten in the morning—I saw him on the door steps; the door was open, he came in; his wife had just told me they were going away—I went upstairs, and when I came down again their luggage was all in the passage waiting, a large box, two portmanteaus, a tin box, some umbrellas, and a handbag—Lyster seemed a little excited—I said, "Is Jim coming back?"—he said, "No, his brother got hold of him last night and I don't think he will loose him; most likely there will be a little chap call," and I was to give the clothes to him, but not to give them unless he asked for them in the name of Clark; he said if anyone called to inquire for him (Lyster) I was to say he had left a month—he did not give any explanation of his leaving suddenly; I had had no notice; the rent was paid-Lyster paid the rent of Clark's room—I found three frames altogether in the grate; I gave them to the police, these (produced) are them; they look like the frames of handbags.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON The rent of one of the rooms was 5s., and the other 6s.—that was Lyster's—he always paid the rent for the two rooms a week in advance—on the morning he left he was excited—a cab was brought there—he looked flurried, and he was racing up and down the steps, waiting for the cab—his luggage was in the passage all ready—I did not see who took it from the room—there was no other man in the house—I think he helped the cabman put it on the cab—I am quite sure he was away on the Monday before the Christmas week—I said at the Police-court I believed he was away that week—I am sure he was away—I said, "It was the week before Christmas Day, or the week before that"—I do not keep a book, I depend entirely on my memory—we had very little conversation the day he went away—the police first came to me on the Monday after Lyster left on the Thursday—that was the first time I spoke about what had occurred—I don't think I told the police that he was in an excited condition—I first mentioned it at the Police-court—I could not say whether Lyster was out any night while he and Clark were living there—he had a latch-key—I never knew him to be out—I could hear him if he came in—my room is upstairs on the first floor—there were two latch-keys; Lyster had one, Clark had not any then—as far as I know, Lyster was never in want of money—he once lent me some; that was the day before he left.
Re-examined. I said at the Police-court, on the Monday after the Tuesday that this happened, "Lyster seemed very pale and hurried"—I don't know whether I told the Inspector that, I might have done—I am not certain.
FLORENCE FREE . I am the daughter of Mrs. Ryssop, and live with her at 4, Huntingdon Street—I remember Lyster living there, and a man named Jim—on Tuesday, 8th January, I was ill, and was in bed during the day—I got up at six to tea, and was about the house—I went to take a towel to Jim's room—before that I had heard some people come in;
one went into the back parlour and one went into Jim's room, the ante room—I heard people talking; it seemed like the voices of Lyster and dark—I took the towel into Jim's room—Lyster was in the other room—I thought I heard the voices of Jim and Lyster when they came in at the street-door—when I went into Jim's room there was nobody there—I heard the cups and saucers rattling in the other room—there was a fire in Jim's room and a lamp burning.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. I don't know Burdett.
MARY ANN CONN . I am cook at Roseneath, next door to Norton Lees—on 8th January I went out at twenty minutes to eight with some other persons—as I was turning out of our gate I saw four men coming down from the main road towards the end of the road—they would have passed Norton Lees—one of the men looked at me; I looked at him very much because he was the only one that really looked at me—it was the prisoner Clark—on 10th January I picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. There were four men—they were walking not very far apart—I have no doubt whatever there were four—I am quite sure one was Clark.
CHARLES MACARTNEY . I am a cab-driver—I attend with my cab at the Highgate station—that is about half a mile from Norton Lees—on Tuesday night, 8th January, I was at the Highgate station—about half past eight I saw a man hurriedly enter the station—I was walking up and down the waiting-room—he came into the waiting-room—I noticed his appearance—his boots and trousers were covered with muddy clay—he went on the bridge and went into the booking-office which is on the bridge—he-looked up and down the platform, then went into the booking office, came out again, and came back into the waiting-room; then he went back on to the platform again on the bridge and stood there; a train came in and then I lost sight of him—during the time he was doing this I was watching him; I was going to ask him if he wanted a cab—on 12th January I went to the Highgate Police-station—I went into a room where there were about twenty or twenty-five men, and there saw the man; to the best of my belief it was Lyster; I picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. There was a piece of cord hanging out of his left hand overcoat pocket—it was a dark overcoat with a velvet collar—he was not in a short jacket—I picked him out at once at Highgate—some of the other men were dressed very respectably, two or three of them had overcoats with velvet collars—I picked him out within a minute—I have no doubt about the piece of rope hanging out of his pocket.
WILLIAM MANN . I am a hansom cab driver—I remember hearing of the housebreaking at Muswell Hill—about twenty minutes past nine that night I was in the Kentish Town Road, about 3 miles from Muswell Hill—a man who afterwards I recognised at Highgate as Clark, came to me with another man who I could not recognise to be certain—he was paraded along with the other men and I thought he looked something like the man, but I would not be sure—I did not pick him out; it was Burdett—I thought he resembled the man, but I could not recognise him—I could not be certain which of the men spoke, I think it was Clark he said, "Is this yours?" pointing to the cab—I said, "Yes"—he said, "How much to the Angel, Islington?"—I said, "2s."—he said, "All right, drive sharp"—they both got in—I said I had got a pretty quick horse
that would not be long going there—I was passing the Agricultural Hall on the way to the Angel—one of them put up the trap and stopped me and said, "We will get out here"—they got out and gave me 2s., and 2d. for a drink—they walked into the Agricultural Hall—it was about a quarter to ten.
WILLIAM BALL . I am landlord of the Mail Coach, Kingsland Road—on the night of 8th January, some time near eleven, three men came in—I knew two of them, Burdett and Clark—they had something to drink which they paid for, and then three cigars were called for—Clark handed the coin—I thought it was a 5s. piece—I said, "a 5s. piece is it not?"—Burdett said, "I thought it was a 4s. piece"—Clark said, "Oh no, a 5s. piece," and of course I gave change for it and they lit their cigars and went out—immediately after I looked at the coin again, and found it was a 4s. piece, a new Jubilee coin—they were the only three men in that compartment—my attention was called to this the next day—I paid the coin into my bank with other money.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have not the slightest doubt that Clark is the man who paid me with the Jubilee piece—he gave it for the drink first—I would not swear that he paid me on the first onset for the three cigars; it was Clark tendered the coin—they lit their cigars; there were three to the best of my belief—I would not swear to the third man; to the best of my belief it was Smith; he was discharged at the Highgate Police-court—possibly it may have been Lyster—it only took about two minutes—I saw Smith at the Police-court; he is a short, stout elderly man—Lyster is not short, stout, and elderly—to the best of my belief it was Smith—I would not say whether it was Smith or Lyster; I don't know.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I knew Burdett; he used to be a customer—I believe the third man was Smith.
Re-examined. Lyster could not have been in the same compartment besides the three; there were only three.
ARTHUR SEWELL (Police Sergeant). On 9th January, at 8 p.m., I apprehended Clark at Brooks's beer-shop, in Boundary Street, Shoreditch; Burdett and Smith were arrested at the time; there were several other persons in the bar—Lyster was not there—I took Clark to the police station—I found this signet ring on him, he was wearing it—next day the men were charged at Highgate with this affair at Muswell Hill—the charge was read to the three, Clark, Burdett, and Smith—they said nothing in answer to the charge.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. There were fifteen or twenty persons in the bar when I arrested them; they were there together with them.
BENJAMIN FORDHAM (Detective Sergeant G). I know Clark and Lyster—on 9th January I was with Sewell when Clark and Burdett were arrested at Brooks's beer-house, in Shoreditch—I arrested Burdett; I told him he would be charged with committing a burglary at Bristol and a burglary in London—I took him to the station—I knew his name—I asked him his address; he refused it—next day, when charged at High gate, he gave it as 4, Jacob Street—I have seen Lyster and Clark in company together.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL I have seen Smith and Clark
together—I said at the Police-court that what Burdett was charged with was a ladder larceny; a burglary at Bristol and other parts of London.
ALFRED GOULD (Police Sergeant) On 10th January I went to 4, Huntingdon Street, and received from Mrs. Ryssop the two coats, one an overcoat, that I have produced—the overcoat was smeared with what appeared to he blood in the front, and some dirt in different parts of the coat; it appeared to be a clay soil—the other coat was clean—there were also two pairs of trousers; they were dirty; and one pair was torn in the leg—Mrs. Ryssop gave me the three bag-clasps, and the clasp of a purse—on the 12th, in company with Inspector Tunbridge, I went to the dust-heap, and made a search—I found three coral beads, four cartridge-cases, and two pieces of tip; the beads were smothered in dust and in a portion of the Daily Chronicle, dated 8th January last—the tips appeared as if they had been through the fire—I produce the beads, the curling-pin, and the empty cartridge-cases, and two hats, one brown and one black, found in Clark's room.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. All the clothes given me by Mrs. Ryssop had come out of Clark's room.
GEORGE HENRY JAMES . I am senior partner in the house of James and Co., wholesale manufacturers of fancy leather fittings—I have seen the purse produced—in my opinion it is American make; it certainly is not English make—the fitting is uncommon, an unusual fastening—I have examined the frame-work of the entire purse, and also the frame-work which appears to have passed through the fire, and in my opinion it is precisely the same kind of frame; it agrees in every way.
HENRY BAILEY . I am a cabman—on 10th January I had a four-wheel cab on the rank in High Street, Shoreditch—I was fetched by a man to Huntingdon Street, where I saw Lyster—there was some luggage, which I put on the cab—I was told to drive to 109, De Beauvoir Road, which I did, with Lyster and a woman—something was left there—I was then told to drive quickly to Waterloo, the Windsor line—there Lyster and the woman got out, and the luggage was unloaded.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I did not notice any great excitement about Lyster when he called me from the rank—he helped me put the boxes on the cab—I did not notice that he was pale, or flurried, or excited; there was nothing at all extraordinary about his appearance.
JAMES BURDON . I am a porter at Waterloo Station—on 10th January, about twenty minutes past eleven, Lyster and a woman came there in a cab with some luggage—I asked him where he was going—he said, "Sunninghill"—he said he thought it was Windsor—I told him it was Ascot and 12.40 would be the next train—he said he would goby that—he went away, and came back, and I saw him go by that train.
ALBERT ERNEST WILCOX . I am booking-clerk at Ascot Station—I remember Lyster arriving there by train with a woman about two o'clock on 10th January—he left some luggage in the cloak-room and asked his way to Sunninghill; I directed him—he returned with the woman about 5.25 p.m.—he said he wanted to go to Southampton—I told him the best way of getting there was to take the train to Frimley, and drive from there to Farnborough, and there catch the London train—at his request I telegraphed to Farnborough for a fly to meet him at Frimley—I saw him and the woman leave by the 5.52 train for Frimley.
—a Mrs. Bachelor did live there—she is since dead; she had a niece, a Miss Candy. On 10th January Lyster came to the cottage with Miss Candy—he told me that he and Miss Candy were married, and that they were on their way to Southampton next morning—I told them the best way to go.
HENRY SADGROVE . I am a cabdriver at Farnborough—on 10th January, in consequence of a telegram, I drove over to Frimley Station to meet the 6.13 train from Ascot—on its arrival Lyster and a woman got into my cab with luggage, and I drove them to Farnborough Station to be in time for the train from London to Southampton.
HENRY HAWKINS . I am a cab proprietor at Southampton—on 10th January Lyster arrived there by the 8.12 train—he engaged my cab; he got into it with a woman; the luggage was put on, and I was told to drive to 36, Rockstone Lane—I drove there; the man went into 35, came out in a few minutes, and then they both went in with the luggage.
GEORGE NORRIS . I am a milkman at 35, Rockstone Lane, Southampton—my wife's maiden name was Candy—on the evening of 10th January Lyster and his wife, my wife's sister, came to my house—I directed them to go to the Crown and Sceptre at Southampton to stop the night—they went away from my house about eleven, and returned at ten next morning to breakfast—I saw them at different times during the day—they left again on Friday night to go to the Crown and Sceptre—about six on Saturday, the 12th, Sergeant Nash, of the London police, called on me, and I gave him certain information—I heard later in the day that Lyster had been apprehended.
WILLIAM NASH (Detective Sergeant G). I followed Lyster to Southampton by the different stations the witnesses have spoken to, and about half-past six in the morning of 12th January I found him at the Crown and Sceptre in bed—I told him who I was, and that I was going to arrest him—he said, "All right"—while he was dressing he said, "If I had taken notice of my dream you would not have had me here; I dreamt that I was being surrounded by a lot of people; I went up, and said, 'what a horrible crowd'"—afterwards he said, "You might have waited a little longer before you came, I was going to leave this place at ten this morning—I took him to the Police-station and took him to town by train—in the train he said, "Who put me away?"—I replied, "I don't know"—he said, "I thought it was all up at Frimley—two splits got into the train, and I was ready to have a go at them if they put their hand son me, but I got away all right"—splits is a slang term for detectives—when I got him to Waterloo, in a cab on the way he said, "I reckon it was through having brought the luggage with me I was caught; if I went alone I should have gone as I stand; you can always buy a clean shirt when you want one"—he had a good deal of luggage with him.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON I searched his portmanteau and clothes—no revolver was found—I told him I was going to arrest him because he failed to report himself.
Re-examined. I am not aware of the exact date when he failed to report himself.
HEWITT OLIVER , M. R. C. S. I am divisional surgeon at Hoxton—on 10th January, at 11 a.m., I saw Clark and examined him—I made notes of what I saw—I found a slight discoloration of the skin, a contusion about an inch and a half long and half an inch wide behind the right
shoulder—on the front of the right forearm I found a scratch of about one-sixteenth of an inch long on the little finger side—another scratch three-quarters of an inch long across the lower end of the front lower arm, half an inch above the second scratch—there was an abrasion covering altogether half an inch of surface on the left little finger, a slight wound big enough to receive the head of a small pin—there was a scratch two-thirds of an inch long, running in an oblique direction across the back of the left hand, and on the face a scratch about an inch and a quarter long, on the outside of the right eye—the scratches were all apparently of the same date, consistent with having been caused two days before, they could have been caused by pushing through bushes—I have seen the fence in the Muswell Hill Road, it was such a hedge as might have caused the wounds—at ten minutes to 10 a.m. on 14th January I saw Lyster—I found several scratches on the little finger side of his right wrist—one of those was half an inch long, the others were pricks, eleven in number, dotted around; one scratch an inch long on the little finger side of the right palm—there were in all ten scratches across the knuckles and first joints of all the fingers of the right hand—there were two scratches deeper and broader than any of the others, on the back of the right index finger, one measured half an inch, the other two-thirds of an inch, several pricks on the palm of the right hand, and one scratch half an inch long in front of the wrist—on the left wrist I found a scratch an inch long, another half an inch long over the ball of the thumb, nine pricks on the backs of the left fingers, a fragment of skin had been broken away from the palm, that was probably of older date than the scratches, which were recent—on the left leg there was a scab on the front of the shin, midway between the knee and the ankle, that looked as if it were a graze, healing—on the right leg there were two scabs, both on the front of the shin, that looked like a graze, healing—those injuries were apparently of about the same age as those on Clark—they might reasonably have been caused on the 8th—the scratches could be caused by pushing through bushes—the grazing on the legs might have been done in the scramble.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON The grazes on the legs were evidently done in some sort of scramble—a slight kick might have caused them, or a tumble against stairs—my opinion is that all the scratches were done about the same time—there are different processes of healing—where one is deeper than others it would heal more slowly—it is impossible to say positively whether they were all done on the same day.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL I did not examine Burdett.
JOHN TUNBRIDGE (Police Inspector). On 9th January I went to Norton Lees, and examined the grounds; I examined a tree in a bed in front of the house, and found this bullet imbedded in it—judging from the direction, it could have been fired from the window-sill on the first floor—it had entered the tree in a downward course from that direction; the mark was quite fresh—that bullet is grooved—it bears the mark of having been fired from a barrel, having four grooves or riflings—it is exactly the same size and weight of the bullet extracted from Mr. George Atkin, and is exactly the same make of bullet—I saw the ladder which was standing there; there was a holly-bush beneath it, which was broken on the side nearest the window, the twigs were bent and broken—immediately beside it were two distinct impressions in the soft clay, as though
a person had fallen into it, and the knees had sunk into the soil, which was very wet and adhesive—I have seen the clothes produced by Sergeant Gould; the clay on them is exactly similar to the clay at the house—the outside of the trousers had apparently been brushed; the clay was on the inside, behind the heel; there was a rent in the same trousers—I was with Gould when the ashes were searched, and the empty cartridge cases and other things found—I have applied the bullets to those cases, and they fit exactly; they are from exactly similar cartridges—when we found the two tips of the boots there were some nails in them, they have since fallen out—I took Mrs. Ryssop's statement; I have the original here, I took it first in pencil on the Saturday previous to her examination on Monday, the 14th—she said that Lyster was very much agitated when he went away on the 10th—on the 19th, in consequence of a communication which the police had received, I went to Holloway Prison with Inspector Peel, and there saw Clark; he made a statement, which I took down in writing, read over to him, and which he signed—this (produced) is it—while waiting for an officer to take him away he made an additional statement, which was not taken—in consequence of his statements, on Monday, 22nd January, I went to a gully-hole on Highgate Hill, near the entrance to the stables of Sir Sidney Waterlow, and there found this revolver; it was full cocked, there were five chamber cartridge cases in it, one empty—it is a five millimetre, Belgian make, pin-fire; it has four grooves—I have compared it with the bullet found in the tree; that must have been fired from a revolver identical with this, as regards the grooving and size of the barrel—the cartridge cases in that revolver are similar to two of those found in Huntingdon Street; two are Eley's make, and the four empty cases in the revolver are also Eley's make—the bullet extracted from Mr. George Atkin fits the grooved muzzle, it is exactly the same size as the others, except that it has no grooving—on 26th January, in consequence of Clark's statement, I went to 4, Jacob Street, Shoreditch, the address given by Burdett—I there found two bullet-holes in the boarding of the first floor back room, which had been occupied by Burdett—I took up the boards, and between the joists and the ceiling of the floor beneath I found this bullet; it is knocked out of shape on one side, it bears a grooving exactly similar to the bullet extracted from the tree at Norton Lees; on the other side it is undamaged; it is similar in weight to the other two—on 2nd February I went again to Holloway Prison with Inspector Peel; Clark had written, asking me to come and see him—he made another statement, which I took down in writing—it was read over to him, and he signed it—in the room which had been occupied by Clark at Huntingdon Street I found two pieces of cord, which I produce—I was present on each occasion when the different witnesses identified the prisoners—there were from twelve to twenty persons present.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON There was only one bullet mark in the fir tree—I took down Mrs. Ryssop's statement on Saturday, the 12th—there had been two hearings at the Police-court when Clark made his statement, and Macartney, the cabman, had given his evidence.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. I did not find any other bullets—the revolver is a very common one, very cheap; the Eley make are the most numerous, and they are the largest cartridge makers in the country, I believe.
Re-examined Mr. Mackinnon and Meen, the cabman, had not been examined when Clark made his statement.
JAMES CLARK (the Prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to this indictment and to other indictments charging me with offences connected with these housebreakings—I have known Lyster and Burdett since last November—I knew that Lyster was living at Huntingdon Street on 19th November—I did not go there for two days afterwards, the 22nd or 23rd—I then occupied the same room with him, and I lived there up to the time I was arrested on the present charge—on the 8th January I and Lyster left between three and four in the afternoon, and went to Burdett's house, No. 4, Jacob Street, Shoreditch—we stayed there a short time, and then all three left the house—we walked in the neighbourhood of Highgate, and after going to different places we got to Muswell Hill Road, and we got into the road where Norton Lees is—I don't think we passed the house the first time—Lyster went and opened the gate, and went through—I followed him—we went close to the dining-room window—Lyster listened outside, and said they were at dinner—he asked me if I had any objection to try the place—I said, no, I had no objection—at this time Burdett was standing outside the gate—Lyster said to me, "What do you think about it?"—I said I was willing to try it—we then came outside the gate, and spoke to Burdett—he said, "Are you going to try it?"—Lyster and I said, "Yes," we intended to—Lyster said that as we passed through Muswell Hill Road he saw a ladder against a new building, and we agreed to go back to the building and bring the ladder down—we all three went back, and Lyster went over the fence and passed the ladder over to us, and I and Burdett took the ladder, and then Lyster and I carried it, and Burdett went on in front to see if the coast was clear—we got back to Norton Lees without meeting anybody—we placed the ladder down outside the house first on the opposite side—Burdett said, "Well, if you are going to try it, the best thing I can do is to stand at the top of the lane leading into Muswell Hill Road; I can see if anybody comes down the road; if any police come down the road they will be mounted police, and if I see them I can give you a signal to come out"—Lyster said he thought it would be best for Burdett to come inside and stand behind the bushes, at the bottom of the ladder; Burdett agreed to that—then we all three went into the garden—I and Lyster carried the ladder behind the bushes and placed it by the bay window, and Burdett stood at the bottom behind the bushes—Lyster went up the ladder first, and put the catch of the window back with a knife, and I followed him up—he went in at the window first, and I followed him—we looked round the room—Lyster passed out of that room and turned to the left into another—we looked round that second room—Lyster went to a chest of drawers, and tried one that was fast, the top one—he said, "If there is anything valuable in this place it will be in this drawer," but it would not do to break it open, it was too ticklish—we went back to the same room we entered—he closed the door and turned the gas full on—then we both commenced to search the drawers and the dressing-table—we found a purse, a small cash-box, a small wooden box which contained a brooch or a watch at some time, a coral bead necklace, a small one—there was a 4s. Jubilee piece in the purse and some money; but I did not see that till I got home
—I put the things in my pocket—I carried everything—while we were searching the room I heard somebody talking outside—I went to the window, and I saw two men standing looking at the window on a kind of lawn or half-circle—I told Lyster I thought there was something wrong—he came and looked, and said, "Get out"—I got out, and Lyster got out; he fired two shots—he got on the top of the ladder and jumped down, half on the bushes and half on the ground—he fell on his knees when he came to the ground—when I got down I came round from behind the bushes and turned to the right, just by the path—I passed the gate; Burdett was at the gate holding it open—he said, "Come this way"—I ran to the gate—a man followed me—when he saw me stop he turned back—I intended to run on, but Burdett said, "Let us wait for Arthur,"—so we stayed a minute or two at the gate—we called Lyster Arthur—we stopped at the gate a short time, and we heard a shot fired and a scream; it appeared to be a female scream—the next moment Lyster passed on the front of the bushes towards the house—I called on him—he turned to look at me—he had a revolver in his right hand—instead of coming on as I told him he went to the front of the house—the gate was about as far from the house as the door opposite is from me—I called to Lyster again—instead of coming to us he passed the house on his right, and I turned and ran, and Burdett followed me up the lane—I heard another shot before we had got very far up the lane—Burdett said, "There is a man following us—he stopped and went back, and raised a stick as if to hit the man—he did not strike the man—he turned and came back, and said, It is this young man who is following us; Jim, come and shoot him "; so I drew a revolver that I had in my pocket—I presented the revolver—Burdett said, "Give it me"—I turned the lever; it was on a blank cartridge—the young man said, "Why don't you come and fight me like a man?" or something like that, or, "Why don't you come singly and fight me like a man?"—we kept on to our right and got over the hedge—I said to Burdett, "Get over the hedge when you come to a convenient place"—he walked to a convenient place and got over—I went further on, but could not find a convenient place, and I had to force myself through—we went across the railway line first, and then across some fields, till we came to a black wooden fencing—we got over that, and then crossed over some more fields, and finally got into a road, turned to the left, and crossed the road, and got into another road; and shortly after we got into the second road we saw a young man coming past us, between a sharp walk and a run, carrying a stick—he passed us, and soon afterwards he returned with two men and an inspector of police, and shortly after some other police came—I said to Burdett, "That young man passed us a little while ago," and seeing a lot more police coming, I said to Burdett, "We had better get across on the other side"—he said,."If you do, you will get to Highgate Police station"—we did get across, and we went to Highgate Hill—Burdett said, "You had better throw the revolver away," which I had—I said, "Where can I put it?"—he said, "Down one of the gullies"—so when we came to a gully-hole I said, "I don't think it will go down"—he said, "Give it to me; I will put it down"—so he put it down on the right-hand side coming down the hill—we worked out of Highgate Hill to the right, and walked a long way—then we came to a cabstand—I hailed a hansom, and told him to drive us to the Angel public-house in
the City Road—as we came down to the back entrance of the Agricultural Hall and the World's Fair we told the cabman to pull up there—I asked him his fare; he said, "Two shillings," and I gave him two shillings, and twopence to get some drink with—we then went in at the back entrance of the Agricultural Hall, went right through, and out at the front entrance, and went on our way to Hoxton—on the way I had a small tin cash-box, and I broke it open and found two copper coins and a silver coin about the size of a sixpence—I broke the cash-box up in several pieces, and threw them away as we passed on—we then went on to Huntingdon Street, and got there about half-past ten—Lyster opened the door to us—he had been home before us some time, he said—Burdett went in with me, and we went into my room; Lyster followed us—he closed the door, and said, "I thought you was catched"—I said, "No; why did not you come when Charlie and I called you while we stood at the gate waiting for you?"—he said, "I saw two men at the gate, but I thought it was somebody else waiting for me"—I said, "What did you want to do that for?"—he said, "I could not get away otherwise; I came to get away, and as I did a man fronted me, and I shot him; I came away, and when I saw a man following me I found it was impossible to get over without his catching me, so I shot him; he put up his arms and said, 'Oh!' so I know that he is dead"—our boots were very muddy; and our trousers, and also our hats—just behind the bushes it was very soft, and, in addition to that, I and Burdett in crossing the fields fell down several times and got muddy—I doubted what Lyster told me—I said, "I hope it is not true what you said about shooting"—he said, "It is quite true"—I said, "I will burn my boots if that is true"—he said, "I will burn mine too"—mine were a pair with elastic sides—I pulled off the heels; he took his lace-ups off, and we put them all in the fire—I changed my hat and coat—Lyster left his hat and overcoat in my room—he had changed his things before we came home and washed—I lent Burdett a pair of trousers and a hat—this (produced) is Burdett's hat, which he left—these are his trousers, and this is his coat—the trousers and vest belong to me—this is his overcoat—he has my trousers on now, and he had my hat at the time—I burnt my boots—I pulled the purse out—I did not know the contents of it at the time; there were some bits of paper, and there might have been some address cards—a 4s. Jubilee piece I took out—I threw the papers in the fire—I gave Burdett the purse, and said, "Put it in the fire"—there were some ornaments outside the purse—Burdett thought they were silver—he said, "I will take these off first," and he put the purse in the fire—there was a little wooden box, which had contained a brooch or watch; I gave him that, and that was put in the fire also—the purse that was burnt was not similar to this—I think it had got some more ornaments on out side; it was about the same size, but I thought it had ornaments somewhere about here; I am not sure—there was a coral bead necklace—I gave that to Lyster to look at—he said the catch of the necklace was gold—he got a knife, and tried to get it off; in doing so it broke, and a number of the beads went on the floor—we thought we picked them all up, but it appears we did not; some were left behind—I gave the puree to Lyster—I had a 4s. Jubilee piece mounted as a brooch in my possession about this time—I had received it on the Monday from the jeweller—Lyster wanted to purchase it for his wife—I said, "No, I promised to give it
away"—but when I saw this 4s. piece in the purse, I said, "You can have this for your share out of the money"—so he took it, and looked at it, and said, "I have decided not to have one made now, I am going to get my wife a Jubilee sovereign mounted"—eventually I did give it to Lyster—after this we all three went out together, and went into a public-house in the Kingsland Road, about two minutes' walk from our lodging, called the Mail Coach—we had two pennyworth of whisky each—Lyster tendered the 4s. Jubilee piece—the landlord fetched, a 2s. piece and half a crown back in change—I said, "I thought it was a 4s. piece"—Burdett said, "Yes, I thought it was"—the master looked at Lyster and said, "It is 5, is it not?" Lyster said, "I think I know the difference between a 4s. and 5s."—the master put it behind the counter when he had given 1s. too much change—Burdett and I had a cigar each—we did not stay there many minutes; we simply drank up and lighted our cigars, and went out and went to Brooks' room; his wife was there—when she went out he went to a cupboard, took out a large six-chambered revolver, and gave it to me to take home—I took it home—Lyster left at a quarter to twelve, and had gone home three-quarters of an hour before us—after that I went home—I made an appointment with Burdett—he said he would come up next morning to our place about ten o'clock—next morning, while I was in bed, about eleven o'clock, Lyster came into the room—we spoke about the affair that happened on the previous night—I told him I did not believe what he had told me last night was true—he assured me it was true—I told him I should not have gone out with him if I had known he was going to do that—he said, "Look here, there is no frightening me off carrying six shots in my revolver; when I expend five I reserve the sixth for myself, I never mean to be hung"—I asked Lyster if he had seen a paper—he said, "No"—I said, "Will you get one?"—he went and got a paper, and he said there was nothing in it at all—I said then I would not believe what he said—he said, "You will find it in the special to-night"—I had the revolver that Burdett had given me, and I showed it to Lyster—he said it was a very good one, and he asked me to go in the City and buy some cartridges for it—I said I would not do it—I waited at home for Burdett till about half past two, and I then went to his place, and we went to Leadenhall Market that evening—I and Burdett walked through the market, and then went into a public-house close to the market, and stayed there till after dark, and then we went back to Brooks's house—I was arrested there—I gave the revolver that Burdett had given me to Lyster before I came out—he said, "What are you going to do with it?"—I said, "I am going to leave it here; have you got yours?"—he said, "Yes, I have reloaded it, I emptied the cartridges in the Kingsland Road"—I said, "Take this and put it in your box, and if you take my advice you will not take it out with you to-day"—he said, "What are you going to do?"—I said, "It is Charlie Burdett's; I will give you this revolver"—he took it, and said he would put both away—so he did, in his box—the revolver that I had put down in the gully I had got the last Sunday in December—it was the proceeds of a robbery, I don't know it now—Burdett and Lyster were with me—Lyster was inside with me; Burdett was outside—there were two revolvers taken from that place—the revolver that Lyster had on the night of the 8th he had bought on 24th December from Charles Penfold
—I was present when he bought it—he came for me to go with him to purchase it—he said a man named Barrett had threatened to shoot him, the same Barrett that is wanted now for the Finsbury Park murder—I had the same sort of cartridges for mine—Lyster loaded mine—they were pin-fire cartridges; both revolvers had the same kind, mine and Lyster's—when I was in Burdett's room I fired two shots into the floor—Burdett was there at the time—Lyster told me the Monday after his arrest, coming down from the railway in a van, that young Charlie Burdett and another man, Harry Dearing, had come up to his place the night that I and Burdett were arrested, and told him of our arrest, and he took the pistols and cartridges and tied them together and threw them into the cut—he also told me that when he was coming away from the house he passed the new building where we had got the ladder, and he saw the old watchman standing at the corner as he passed, and he asked him what was the matter: "Are there burglars down there?" and he said, "No, I think it is a riot, and I am going to fetch the police"—I had a piece of rope in one of my pockets when I left Burdett's place; I lost it—I believe my revolver was loaded on the last day of December, the day after it came into my possession, Lyster loaded it in my room—it might have been on 4th or 5th January perhaps that I fired the two shots into the floor in Burdett's room—I cannot tell to a day—that was the night when it was done—the shots have been found in the floor that I fired there—I had not more than four cartridges.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. When I went to Muswell Hill I was dressed as I am now, except that I had not the same trousers—I had no beard then—I had some rope in my pocket; I don't know whether it was in an outside pocket—when we started from Burdett's house, he had it first and gave it to me—I first became acquainted with Lyster about the 19th November—I went to Huntingdon Street, I should think, within three or four days afterwards; that would be between the 19th and 24th—Mrs. Lyster was not there when I went; I think she was at the hospital—I don't know when she went there; she came back on 4th January, I think—it was either on the 19th or on the following Monday, the 26th, that I first saw Lyster—I did not write down the statement I made to Tunbridge and Peel; they wrote it down; I dictated it; I had not written it out before—I was with them in a private room in the prison—I and Lyster went into the room at Muswell Hill—I did not fire while I was in the room; I had a revolver—I believe two shots were fired from the top of the ladder—I am not positive; I believe it was two shots—both those shots were fired by Lyster; I did not fire at all—I did not jump from the ladder to the bushes; I went down the ladder—I saw Lyster fire; I did not see him fire from the gate; he fired two from the window—when I came down to the gate I heard a shot, and then Lyster passed in front of the bushes—I did not see him fire, I only heard the shot—I saw him stand for a moment with a revolver in his hand—I could see him do all this; it was not a very dark night or very bright; an ordinary light—there was a full light in the window behind; I could see all that occurred—I don't know how far up the road it was when Burdett turned round and said, "There is another one following us"—it must have been further than 15 or 20 yards—I kept the furthest up the road—I was the first to run away—when Burdett said, "Jim, come back and
shoot him,"I was perhaps eight yards in front—I daresay young Mr. Atkin was eight or ten yards away—I could hear what Burdett said—Mr. Atkin might have heard him, I can't say—if a man turns round to speak to a man behind him, the man in front could hear more plainly than the man behind—Lyster told me the following night that he had killed two men, I did not believe him; I had my reasons; I did not approve of shooting people, if you could get away without it—I said I would not have gone out with him if I had known what he was going to do, or I had known that he was going to shoot anybody—my revolver was not loaded, there were cartridges in it, but they were empty; they would not go off—I did not intend to use the revolver at all—I could not use it because there was nothing in it—I never went out with Lyster after, only to have a drink in the public-house in Kingsland Road—I mean I never kept his company afterwards—he was with me in Kings land Road—he did not have a cigar, he does not smoke—I did not call for three cigars, only two were called for—Lyster did not have one, Burdett and I had one—I did not put down the 4s. piece; of course I admit the stealing it, it is a matter of indifference who put it down; it was neither I nor Burdett that paid it, it was Lyster who paid it—if Mr. Ball says I paid it, it is untrue—I remember it distinctly—the revolver was bought from Penfold, we went to his house on the morning, a friend of Penfold's was present, a young man—I had no conversation with Penfold about the purchase of the revolver—Lyster spoke to him—I did not go inside, I stayed outside; but he came out and went to a coffee shop—I saw the purchase made—in the coffee-shop, Lyster said, "Are you going to let me have that revolver?"—Penfold said, "It is in pledge for 3s. 6d."—Lyster gave him the money, and when he brought it back he said, "Have you got some cartridges?"—Lyster took the revolver, I had nothing to do with the purchase, Lyster had plenty of money of his own to purchase it—I had money also—I did not say I wanted one—I wrote to the Home Office while I was in Holloway Gaol, saying that I wanted to give evidence, asking for the Queen's pardon if I gave evidence—it was not exactly the reason why I made the statement, that I thought I would get one—there was another man at the time I wrote my petition, who made a statement, a fourth man under custody, who was quite innocent, he knew nothing more about it than you did; he was one accused; I believe he hadbeen in penal servitude—it was not exactly because I thought him innocent and wanted to get him off, but I knew very well there were four men in, and we should all four have to suffer for what one man did, and I think I have done a great justice by getting an innocent man acquitted—I don't think I am guilty of the shooting, I have pleaded guilty concerning it—I did not say I thought if one man suffered for it, mat would be sufficient, and I should be pardoned; I said that if the man that shot George Atkin was guilty it would give more satisfaction to the Atkin family than if all were brought to justice—I have been convicted—my last sentence was five years for stealing two gold Albert chains—before that I had ten years for breaking into a shop—I don't know what I got before that—I have been in prison two months for being drunk—before the ten years I had nine months for stealing a watch-chain, and two months besides—I think that is plenty, I can't grumble if I get punished for what I have done, but I have no wish to be punished for what I have not done.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL There is only one man really guilty of the shooting, that is Lyster—there was only one revolver used on this occasion that I am aware of—I never saw Burdett with a revolver till—only one revolver was used from the window—I believe the shots that were fired from the window were fired from the same revolver as shot Mr. Atkin—on my oath I did not fire from the window—I only had four cartridges for the revolver; two I discharged in Burdett's house—the other two I fired in Hackney Downs fields; I can't tell whereabouts, because I don't know much about London—I was with Burdett and Lyster; we were out walking—in my statement to Inspector Tunbridge I said that there were two empty cartridges and two loaded ones in the revolver, I believed there were at the time, I had forgotten about the two that I had fired in Hackney Downs fields—I remember firing two off—I told Tunbridge and Peel that I had fired two off in Burdett's room, and they have been there and found them, and I sent for them again to come to see me to correct it—I was arrested on the 9th, and I made the statement on the 19th—in the meantime I had forgotten that I had discharged the two cartridges on Hackney Downs—I could not have fired from the window, because there was nothing in the revolver to fire, that I swear; the bullets fired from Lyster's revolver are the same bullets as fit the revolver he purchased from Penfold, and he put the same bullets in this; I believe they were in the same package; I believe they fitted the same revolver—I never had a revolver in my hand before the 24th December—there were only three of us out on this evening, not four; that I am positive of—I did not notice the cook next door to Mr. Atkin—I remember her coming to identify us; I did not notice her outside that evening—I believe Burdett knew that the revolver I had was unloaded—he said, "Come back, Jim, and shoot him," to intimidate the young man; that is what I believe.
Re-examined. When I made my first statement to Inspector Tunbridge he said there was nothing promised me, what I said must be voluntary, there was no promise or threat, I must understand that—"Above all," he said, "I wish to caution you that whatever you say let it be the truth"—I considered it over, and I said, "Very well, by making a statement I shall criminate myself"—he said, "Well, you can please yourself, but I caution you strongly that whatever you say is to be the truth; because if you don't speak the truth it will be no use at all"—that was written in my statement, which I signed without either threat or promise—in my first statement I said there were two empty cartridges and two loaded ones in the revolver, and the hammer came down on the empty one—I had forgotten then what I had done on Hackney Downs—I wrote immediately for him to come and see me to correct my statement, but he did not come for a week afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. HURRELL. At the time I pulled down the hammer at young Mr. Atkin, I believed there were two loaded cartridges and two empty ones.
CHARLES PENFOLD . I am a plumber, and live at 159, Haggerstone Road—I know Clark and Lyster by sight—in December last I had a six chambered pin-fire revolver, which I wanted to sell—on 24th December Clark and Lyster came for the purpose of buying it—I sold it—I could not swear to the man I actually sold it to—they were both there at the time—they both took part in the conversation—I don't know who actually
paid me—I sold it for 5s., and I sold twenty-five cartridges with it, similar to the case before me—I have not seen the prisoners since until they were in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. The money was paid at my private door, and then they went away—I can't recollect who mentioned it to me first, Clark or Lyster—the whole thing only took about two minutes—we did not go to a public-house or coffee-shop; if Clark says we did, it is not true—I could not say if Clark examined the revolver—I gave it to one, I could not say to which; they were both there—one had as much to do with the purchase as the other.
PERCY MACKINNON . I live at Roseneath, Muswell Hill, which is the next house to Norton Lees—I was at home on the evening of Tuesday, 8th January—after this had happened I was asked to go for the police—I ran up, my father went with me part of the way, and then I went on by myself; I was carrying a very large thick stick in my hand—I passed the watchman at the houses, and afterwards met an inspector and a detective the other side of the Highgate Railway Station; they were coming in the direction of Norton Lees—I stopped and spoke to them, and walked back with them—I think both in going and returning I passed several people on the road.
WILLIAM MEEN . I am employed as a watchman at some houses that are being built in the Muswell Hill Road, about a quarter of a mile from Norton Lees—on the night of this occurrence, while speaking to a post man, I heard six shots fired—after the postman had left me some few minutes I saw a man running towards me from the direction of Norton Lees—as he passed me I said, "What's the matter up the road? is it a burglary?"—he said, No, it's a riot; I am going for the police"—I said, "You will find one down the road, if not, you will find one at the Woodman"—he went on running—I did not know at that time that the ladder had been taken from our building.
LYSTER and BURDETT GUILTY .—They then both PLEADED GUILTY to having been previously convicted of felony; Lyster in March, 1884, and Clark in July, 1882.— Penal Servitude for Life. CLARK also received the same sentence.
The Grand Jury made a presentment in this case, commending the skill and ability shown by the police, in which Mr. Justice Mathew said he entirely concurred.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, March 7th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
At the trial of C. H. Ward and Terry at the January Sessions, John Ward did not surrender The evidence now given was substantially the same as was given on the former trial (See page 217.)
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he had hitherto always paid his way
at the several theatres which he had rented, and denied being accountable for his brother's actions.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT, Thursday, March 7th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
JOHN HAWKER I live at 28, St. George's Place, Hyde Park Corner, and am a gentleman of independent means—on 18th July I was en deavouring to recover some money for a young lady who alleged that she had been defrauded by a postman—I met her and the postman that day about 6.30 or 7 p.m.—I had some conversation with them; the postman went away for a few minutes—the prisoner and Knott, who was convicted here (See Vol. 108, page 798), crossed the road and claimed money from her—Knott said, "Pay me that 26s. you owe me"—she said, "I don't owe you anything"—Knott said, "Yes, you do, you owe me money"—he turned to me in a threatening manner and said, "The young woman says you are her brother; why don't you pav?"—I said, "Whether she is my sister or not, I decline to pay; I don't pay anyone's debts"—I then to pacify them invited the prisoner, Knott, the postman, and the lady to have a glass of beer—we went into the Bag of Nails, in the Buckingham Palace Road, and drank at my expense—we stayed there twenty minutes or half an hour; then I left first, and the lady, the postman, and the two men followed—I went along the Buckingham Palace Road towards the Victoria Hotel, the prisoner walking on my left and Knott on my right—I was talking to them—they were more conciliatory at that time—the postman brought up the rear—I asked them to have another glass, and we all five went into another house, and had a glass—I said to the postman, "I think it is time for you to go and deliver your letters"; he left, and the other three stayed with me—when we left the public-house the prisoner and Knott said to the young lady, You be off, the gentleman does not require your company; he says you are not his sister"—she went away a short distance, but loitered about—I left the men, and walked rapidly towards Lower Belgrave-street, Pimlico; I looked round to see if they were following me, and they were; I sharply entered a public-house to avoid them—they entered almost directly afterwards as I was calling for a glass of beer—Knott said, "Halloa, here you are again"—I said, "What has that to do with you? it appears very strange to me that you appear to be following me"—they said, "Have a drink with us; have some spirits"—they called for spirits—I said, "Are you going to pay for it?"—the prisoner said, "I have only got notes in my pocket"—I said, "You had better change your notes; you called for these drinks; pay for it out of one of your notes"—he pulled out a roll of supposed Bank notes, but left me to pay for the drink they barred my exit from the public-house by placing their backs against the small door leading out of the bar—I had a scuffle with them, pushed them on one side, and got out—I walked and partly ran about one hundred yards
away—Knott came suddenly round to the front from the middle of the road, and seized me by the neck, and drove me back against the prisoner—they then hustled me forcibly down some circular stone steps with great force—I struck against some ironwork, and rebounded, and they followed me down; my hat was smashed—when I reached the bottom of the steps Knott was on my left and the prisoner on the right; Knott seized my left hand and twisted it, and the prisoner seized my right arm—Knott tugged at my watch chain; I saw my watch in his hands—the prisoner wrenched off my locket—I dropped my umbrella—Knott ran up the steps; the prisoner picked up my umbrella, and ran after Knott up the steps—I was very much shaken; I received injury to my back: I could scarcely walk for three weeks—my umbrella was of very fine alpaca or silk, with two thick silver bands round it; one was almost invisible; anyone could see the other; it had my initials on it, "J. H."—it was not an ordinary umbrella—the prisoner had no umbrella with him when he first came up—after remaining about ten minutes to recover myself I walked up the steps into the street—I spoke to a policeman, and went to the station-house and gave information—I did not see the prisoner again till a few weeks ago, when I saw him at the station—I have no doubt he is one of the men who robbed me.
Re-examined I did not call the young lady my sister—I have no recollection of having sworn that I did do so—I had only met her the evening before, when I was standing under a doorway to avoid the rain—I might have said when Knott was tried, "I called the young lady my sister; I had only known her about twenty-four hours"—I met her on this night by appointment; I went into a public-house with her for about twenty minutes; that was upwards of an hour afterwards; I was looking for the postman in the meantime—all the men were strangers to me—there were six of us altogether—I don't know the name of the first public house into which I invited them; it was in the Buckingham Palace Road—then we went to a public-house near Victoria Station—the lady waited outside while we went in—afterwards I went to the Plumbers' Arms—I said at the last trial, "We were there about twenty minutes; they treated me to some spirits; I drank a little, then felt giddy"—the mere taste of the spirits made me giddy—the prisoners had had the same quantity of drink as I had—if I was incapable they were too—it was not so late as 10.30—I do not recollect asking a cabman to drive me, and his refusing because I was so drunk—I did not ask a cabman to drive me—the young lady called me her brother—I said at the last trial, "The woman I have spoken of followed me to the Plumbers' Arms—I said she was my sister, I did that at her request; I only knew her the day before"—I had discussed her betting business with the postman, who was a stranger—the postman is dismissed the service; he brought the men to rob me—I discussed matters with the young lady the night before, and asked her to meet me the next night, and I would do what I could for her—I am certain that when I went down the area I was sober—I gave a full description of the prisoner at the station soon afterwards; I said he was a man with one eye.
Re-examined I considered the young lady had been very badly treated, and I tried to get her money back—she was a witness at the former trial—my efforts were successful to some extent—to carry out my purpose I
was obliged to talk to the prisoners—afterwards I wanted to getaway from them—I was perfectly sober and knew what I was about.
ARTHUR ROXBURY . I am a shoe-black, of 11, Kind Court, Frances Street—I stand outside the Victoria District Railway station—on 18th July, about 7.30 or 8 p.m., I saw the prosecutor with a young lady in Buckingham Palace Road, by the corner of Stockbridge Terrace—he came over with Knott (against whom I gave evidence)—they went a little way down the road into a public-house, remained there about five minutes, came out, and went away together—I did not see the prisoner again till I saw him in the Police-court about three weeks ago—I am perfectly certain the prisoner is the man I saw with Knott and the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. I was off my stand when I saw them—I saw them go into the King's Arms, in Buckingham Palace Road—the young woman went in there too—I lost sight of them when they came out—I don't believe she is here; I have not seen her since she gave evidenee at the last trial.
WALTER SMITH (Policeman B R 60). I was on duty at Victoria Station on 18th July, between seven and eight, and saw the prisoner with Knott, who was convicted here and sentenced to nine months' imprisonment—the prisoner had no umbrella then—about 9.30 the same night I saw the prisoner again with a black alpaca umbrella, with a round topped handle, and a silver band round the top—I next saw him detained at Kennington Lane Station on February 8th—I am quite positive he is the man I saw with Knott—it was a fine night.
Cross-examined. He was walking with it, holding the top—he was on the same side of the street as I was; it was in Wilton Road, near the "Shakespeare," on the same side—at that time I had no notion that the umbrella was stolen—I heard next morning that it had been stolen—I could see some silver on it; I could not see whether it was a silver cap or a band—he walked right by me—he said to me, referring to a little disturbance on the previous night, he was sorry that anything should occur between him and me, that he should give me any trouble.
FREDERICK GRAY (Detective L). On 18th February I met the prisoner in the Renfrew Road about 11 a.m.—I stopped him and said, "What is your name? I am a police officer"—he said, "Robert Foster"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "41, Gilbert Road"—I said, "I am going to take you into custody on suspicion of being Robert Freeman, wanted for stealing a watch from the person, about the middle of July last"—he made no reply—I took him to Kennington Lane Police Station, where he was detained for some time—I said, "Do you wish to stand by yourself, or with others?"I meant for the purpose of being identified—he said, "By myself"—I said, "We cannot get many people like you with one eye"—he was subsequently taken to Gerald Road Station and charged—he said, "Very well."
Cross-examined. He gave the name of Robert Freeman at the Gerald Road Station—I don't know if he has a brother—the barmaid from the Plumbers' Arms is not here, nor is Mary Fletcher, the young lady who bets.
By the COURT. I had been looking for him for three months; the police have been looking for him.
JOHN HAWKER (Re-examined by MR. PURCELL). The watch I lost was a present from my sister—I called to the prisoner to bring back my watch, he did not—I did not say I was anxious to get it back as it was a present,
or that I would give him £2 to bring it back—I left word at the Plumbers' Arms two days afterwards that if it was brought back I would give £2 and ask no questions, and the landlord went out and afterwards told me it was too late; it had been melted down—I swear I did not walk with the prisoner to the corner of Ebury Street after I was robbed; he ran up the steps.—
GUILTY †.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, March 8th, 1889.
Before Mr. Justice Mathew.
MR. PAYNE Prosecuted.
ANNE HOLDING . I am the wife of Benjamin Holding, of 9, Rich Street, Limehouse—on 10th January, about 10.30, I was in Lilian Payne's room on the second floor, and the prisoner was there quarrelling with her; he was going to give her £6 for him to stop there—she said she did not want him, he was to go to his own lodging; he offered her the money again, and told her he would stop there—she said, "No," and he went to the fireplace, picked the poker up and beat her with it; I went out for Mrs. Forsyth, the gossip, to one of whose children Lilian Payne stood godmother—I have seen the prisoner and Payne together during the three months I have been there—I have been in her room, and done up her place while the prisoner was there, and I Have seen them in the street together.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I heard her say she did not want you any more, but she did not say she had engaged another man—you took us both to a public-house and gave us some drink.
----BALCOMB (Policeman K). On January 5th I was at the station when Foley brought Payne in at 10.50—she was bleeding from her throat, and I took her to the hospital—as I went out with her I met the prisoner at the door, and said to the sergeant, "That is him"—he said, "Yes, here I am."
WILLIAM BROWN (Police Sergeant K). I was with Balcomb at the station when Payne was brought in, bleeding from her throat and arms—I sent her in a cab to Poplar Hospital—the prisoner was outside, and Payne said something as she went out—he answered, "Yes, here I am"—I took him into custody—I knew him before—he said, "Yes, Mr. Brown, I did it"—he was sober—he wanted some brandy, and put 2d. on a desk, and I noticed that both his hands were smothered in blood, and his shirt was wet with blood—the charge was read over of attempting to murder her—he said, "I never thought I was going to kill anybody, she called me a son of a bitch, and a wh—, and a coney, and a bastard, and I took a razor and cut her throat"—I received this poker in this condition (bent).
WILLIAM DINNING (Police Inspector K). I went to 9, Rich Street, and found Payne's room in a state of disorder, and marks of blood on a sheet on the bed, and a pool of blood, two feet wide and nine inches long, in which were two pieces of a razor-handle; and in a pail of water I found this razor-blade and a portion of the handle.
ROSE ELIZABETH PAYNE . I am an unfortunate, and live at 9, Rich Street—on this night I went up to my room about 10.30, and Anne Holding came up behind me—I found the prisoner hiding in my room, and said, "You call yourself a gentleman, but I call you mean, to hide yourself in an unprotected woman's lodging like this"—he then offered me £6, and I told him to go home to his lodging—he then started beating me with a poker on my arms and body—he had been breaking my things on the previous Friday, because he accused me of stealing his watch and chain and money, and he offered me the £6 as a recompense—the poker was straight before this—I tried to take it from him, but during the struggle I fell down, and did not know my throat was cut till I felt him put his fingers in and pull the flesh down—he was kneeling on me then, and he got up and kicked me three times—I got out of the room and went to Mrs. Foley—I was twenty-eight days in the hospital—he is a ship's steward.
FREDERICK PRESTON . I am house surgeon at Poplar Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there about 11 p.m., with an incised wound on her neck, nine and a half inches long from the right ear—it cut the sternal muscle on the right side, and came below her chin, which was much lacerated—that might be done by his putting his fingers into the wound—it did not cut into the larynx, or it would have killed her—it was dangerous, the anterior jugular vein was cut, but not the main vessels—there was a laceration of the scalp, four and a half inches long, cutting through all the tissues and wounding the bone; an incised wound of the left arm two and a half inches long; a confusion and a small wound on the left elbow; a wound cutting down to the bone on the left hand about two and a half inches long, and another wound on the left hand—they had all been inflicted with a sharp instrument, including the wound on the head—she was in danger for some time—great force had been used—if the inner jugular veins had been severed death would have been instantaneous.
GUILTY on the Second Count.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted.
ALFRED BROWN . I live at 25, Butcher's Row, Ratcliff—on February 7th, about one a.m., I noticed smoke issuing from the fanlight of Mr. Manzi's door, a picture-frame maker's, opposite—I ran downstairs and rapped at his door several times—the prisoner came, and I said, "There is a fire here"—he said, "No, there is nothing"—I said, "Yes there is; look at the fire at the end of the counter; it is burning"—he said, "Come inside"—I said, "No"—I did not go in—my mistress kept halloaing—the neighbours came, and the prisoner went inside and shut the door, but opened it again directly—the police were called, and I assisted them with buckets of water, and the fire was put out—the police brought a mattress from the end of the counter under the staircase, into the street all alight.
JOHN CHARLES TIMPKI . I am a labourer, and live next door to the prisoner—on February 7th, between one and two a.m., I heard a knocking at the prisoner's door—I put my head out of the window and saw smoke issuing from the door—I ran down and said to the prisoner, who was agin
his door—"I say, old chap, you have got a fire here"—he said, "Oh, no; take no notice"—I went indoors and called the neighbours up—I went down again, and the prisoner was standing with the door closed—I shoved him against it, and said, "Oh, you scoundrel! I can see there is fire there through the fanlight at the top," and with that the police came up—the door was closed then—the door was burst open, and the police went in and caught hold of the mattress and threw it into the road—I believe the prisoner's father and mother lived on the premises, but moved out the same night—the engines came, and the fire was put out.
Cross-examined. I never knew you to work in the shop; I have been in to see your father, but I never saw you.
JOHN MINAN . I live at 24, Butcher's Row, Ratcliff—on February 7th, about 2 a.m., Timpki, one of my lodgers, called me out of bed—I got up, and saw the prisoner standing with his back to his door, keeping it closed with his left hand—I asked him if there was a fire, and I think he muttered, "No"—Brown came across, and said something about the fire—the prisoner denied it, and said, "Go in and see" or "Come in and see"—Timpki then came out of my house, and said, "There is a fire in the place"—he said, "No," and Timpki put his hand over the prisoner's shoulder, and drove the door in, and I saw a blaze under the staircase, and the place full of smoke—I called the police, and they came in two or three minutes, and one of them drove the door in, which was then closed, and pulled out a blazing mattress, and stamped on it, and we got pails of water and spilt on it.
Cross-examined. I never saw you working in the shop, but I have seen you in and out.
ALFRED SHOTT (Policeman H 315). I heard cries of "Police," went to 22, Butcher's Row, and saw flames—I pushed the door in with my fist, rushed into the shop, pulled out a mattress which was burning, and threw it into the road and stamped on it, and Ambrose brought some water, and threw on it—there were flames in the house, and Ambrose threw water on them; a cupboard under the staircase was flaring away.
By the COURT. This was not a sleeping-place under the stairs; the house was empty—there was no sleeping-place where I saw the mattress, only a cupboard—the mattress was under the stairs, on a level as you go into the shop; I saw it alight, and pulled it out.
JAMES AMBROSE (Policeman H 348). I was called to this house, and saw a large quantity of smoke issuing from the shutters and above the door—Shott pushed the door in with his fist, entered and brought out half of a paliasse in flames—I got some water from one of the neighbours, and flung it over a shelf which was burning; the lath work under the stairs was alight—the fire was put out—no one was on the premises—the other half of the paliasse was all right.
ONSLOW WATERFORD (Police Inspector H). I met the prisoner being taken to the station by a constable; I examined the premises; the boards forming the roof of the cupboard had been alight, and were very much scorched, the flames had crawled up in front and set light to them; the plaster was broken away and the laths had just caught light—the end of the cupboard was wood, the staircase formed part of it—in a back room upstairs were two old iron bedsteads, on one of which I found a half paliasse corresponding to the part downstairs—the house appeared
to have been not long vacated, because the kitchen fire was still in embers, and the leg of a chair had been used to light it—I found a stone jar in the kitchen containing paraffin oil, but there was no smell—I charged the prisoner at the station with setting fire to the paliasse under the house; he demanded who prosecuted him—I said that I did; he made no answer.
Cross-examined. There would have been no benefit to you from setting fire to the house—the owner has insured it.
Cross-examined. You had no bad feeling against the landlord to my knowledge.
Prisoner's Defence.—I knocked at the door and noticed smoke coming between the cracks of the shutters. I knocked two or three times and received no answer, and as the smoke came through I forced the door open and found it was burning. I rushed upstairs, but could not make anybody hear, and came down and saw what I thought was a quantity of straw burning in the shop. I stamped on it, and heard a knocking at the door, and went there and saw the first witness. It would be no benefit to me to set fire to the place, nor was there any bad feeling existing between me and the landlord, but because I was the first to discover the fire I was charged with the offence. If it had been burned down I should have had no place to go to and no place to work.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SIMMONS Prosecuted; MR. SANDERS Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
LOUISA SPIERS . I live at 79, Alcroft Road, Kentish Town—I have been living with the prisoner as man and wife from about sixteen; we have got on well together, and I have a child by him—on this Sunday, about six o'clock, I was kneeling down against the fireplace doing some cooking, and saw him take an iron rod up, but I did not see him hit me; I fell giddy, and when I got up I saw him coming with a razor; he drew it across my face; I held it with my hand, and my hand was cut—I called for help; the landlord came up, and I ran downstairs, and was taken to the hospital—the prisoner has been very strange in his way during the last month or two; he never threatened me, but he has not slept at night; he has got up and gone out, and come to bed again—I have known him look under the bed, and say that people were there when they were not—he said that I did not care for him, and he always had it in his head that I had men in the house, without any cause at all—on the Monday before the Sunday when this happened I told him I could not stop with him any longer, and I left him and went to live with my
mother—he visited me twice during that week, and asked me to go back and live with him, and I refused—I moved from my mother's to Alcroft Road on the Saturday before this, and he came there about 10.30 a.m., and asked me for his clean clothes; I had not got them quite ready, and told him he should have them at 4.30—he came back at twelve o'clock, and stopped till ten at night, and then left and came back at eight the next morning—on that Saturday he walked up and down the room, and if I spoke he never answered—he seemed not right in his mind, and he has not been for very nearly two months—just before I was struck I had not spoken to him; he had been walking up and down the room, and I told him I thought he ought to see a doctor, but he never answered—he did not complain about his head on the Saturday or Sunday.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I remember your coming home on Saturday and paying the rent, and saying you were going to leave me; and you left me, and came back on Monday and fetched your things.
GEORGE WILLIAM MAYHEW . I am landlord of 79, Alcroft Road, Kentish Town—on this Sunday, about one o'clock, my sister called me from the back room—I went up, and saw the prisoner with a razor in his hand, cutting his throat—I knocked it out of his hand—I did not notice a wound in his throat—I went down and got a constable, and then he said, "Give it me back again"—I said, "I won't"—he was taken in custody.
JAMES EVES (Policeman Y)225). I was called and took the prosecutrix to the hospital—I found the prisoner in the second floor room, and told him I should have to arrest him for cutting and wounding Elizabeth Spiers, with intent to murder her—he said, "Yes, I did it"—this knife was on the table smothered with blood, and Mayhew gave me this razor—I found this poker in the room—the prisoner had a wound in his throat; it was bleeding—I took him to the station—he was afterwards taken to St. Pancras Infirmary.
WALTER DUNLOP . I am medical officer of St. Pancras Workhouse—the prisoner was brought there on Sunday, at five o'clock, suffering from a wound in his throat, which might have been caused by a razor—he said he did not know how he came by it—he was sullen and depressed, and not inclined to answer any questions—about eight o'clock I saw him again—he had become more excitable both in his talk and actions—he was wandering about the ward, fancying that the patients had bladders concealed about them, and that they squirted poison into him—on the next day he had delusions as to his fellow-workmen, that they conspired against him, and that they had a secret influence over Louisa Spiers which he could not describe—he was under my care till the 20th, when he was charged at the Police-court—he had then become quieter—his delusions had partially disappeared—I have not seen him since.
By the COURT. About 8.30 p.m. on the 19th I had a lone conversation with him; he was then of unsound mind, undoubtedly—he had various hallucinations—he said he smelt poison in the ward, which he found the woman had given to her child by him—I have not the slightest difficulty in stating that he is of unsound mind.
EMILY MATTHEWS . I am the wife of George Matthews, of 6, Lane Grove, Gospel Oak—the prisoner lived in our house—on 16th February he came to me and said that there were two hundred men after him—I told him it was not so, and asked him to shake it off—he said that two
detectives were sitting on the stairs, and he should go to Marylebond Police-court and give himself up, because he had accused his wife of giving the baby poison—I advised him to go to a doctor.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT , M. D. I am medical officer of Holloway Prison—the prisoner has been under my notice since February 20th—I saw him directly he arrived—he was then dull and depressed, but was not suffering from any actual delusion—I have frequently spoken on these points, and they have gradually cleared away—he believes now that they were delusions, and that they did not exist—he is very much better; he is convalescent—from the appearances I saw I think he was undoubtedly insane.
WILLIAM HANWELL . I am the prisoner's father—I had not seen him for some months till he came to me some days before this—he seemed very strange, and his brother and sister noticed it as well, but it did not strike me that he was out of his mind—he called again in four or five days, and he seemed stranger still—I thought it was worry on his mind—I did not see him afterwards till I heard of the occurrence—he is a plasterer.
GUILTY of the act, being insane at the time. To be detained during Her Majesty's Pleasure.
NEW COURT.—Friday, March 8th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HOWKEY . I am a collier, of 12, Cwm Glydach, near Tonypany, Glamorganshire—on 28th August, 1881, I was present at the marriage of the prisoner to my sister-in-law, Emma Berriman, at the parish church of Llantrissant—I signed the register—I saw my sister-in law a week ago yesterday.
CHARLOTTE HARRIETT BISHOP . I am married, and live at 62, Mansford Street, Bethnal Green—on 7th April, 1887, I was present at the marriage of my daughter by my first husband, Ellen Charlotte Reed, to the prisoner at Markbeech Church, near Edenbridge, Kent.
ELLEN CHARLOTTE REED . I live with my mother at 62, Mansford Street—I first saw the prisoner on Christmas Day, 1886—I kept company with him till 1st April, 1887—he told me his wife died in her confinement with her second child between Easter and Whitsuntide, 1883, and that he buried her at Caldicott, Monmouthshire—towards the end of last year my suspicions were aroused by his saying he had only been to one funeral in his life—I said, "Only one?"—he said, "No, to a mate of mine"—I said, "Do you mean to say you have only been to one funeral!"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "How about your wife's funeral?"—he said, "Oh, I forgot about that"—on 31st December I told him I did not believe his wife was dead—he said, "I told you where she was buried"—I said, "It is a lie; I have a letter to show she was not buried where you say she was"—he said, "Oh, she died at Caldicott, and was buried at Llantrissant"—I showed him the letter—the next day he left me, and I did not see him again till he was in custody—I went to the Bethnal Green Police-station and informed the
police—I have a child by the prisoner—I shall be twenty-one next October—he did not treat me at all kindly—during the twelve months he struck me; my mother saw him, and my brother saw him strike me again.
GEORGE GODLEY (Police Sergeant). On 21st February I took the prisoner on a warrant, which I read to him, at Dronfrew, in Derbyshire—he said, "I married Ellen at Markbeech Church; my first wife ran away about six years ago, and I have not heard of her since, and I thought she was dead, or I should not have married again"—I brought him back, and he was charged at Bethnal Green station—he made no reply to the charge—this certificate was sent by the clergyman of the parish. (This was a certificate of the marriage at Llantrissant on 28th August, 1881, of Richard Smith to Emma Berriman.
ELLEN CHARLOTTE REED (Re-examined). This is the certificate which I had at Markbeech Church when I was married. (This certified the marriage on April 7th, 1887, of Richard Smith to Ellen Charlotte Reed.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate—" I heard my first wife was living with another man."
GUILTY — Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
The Prosecutor did not appear, and MR. METCALFE for the prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT, Saturday, March 9th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. C. MATHEWS and H. AVORY Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
JAMES BUCKLE I live at 66, Josephine Avenue, Brixton—I have retired from business—in 1885 I was co-trustee with Mr. Leighton in a trust fund which then amounted to £1,000, and was invested in Consols—Mr. Leighton died in the autumn of 1885, and it became necessary for me, as surviving trustee, to appoint a second trustee of the fund—in 1886 I consulted the prisoner, who was acting as my solicitor, professionally, with regard to the appointment of a fresh trustee—he then carried on practice at 11, Clement's Inn, Strand—the relations between us were also of a friendly character—I told him one of the trustees along with me was dead, and he said, "I have no objection to be trustee with you"—he said he should want to see the original deeds creating the trust—I took them and left them with him; these are they—he drew up a deed of appointment for me to sign—on 30th July, 1886, I received this letter from him (this enclosed the engrossment of appointment of trustee for the witness's execution)—a little while afterwards I took the deed back and executed it at Clement's Inn—I and the prisoner signed it there—I do not remember any one attesting the signatures—I left it with the prisoner—I have never seen it since—on 3rd December I called at his office, and he said, "Mr. Buckle, I must have that money; I have orders to complete the trust fund to-morrow"—he was to invest it in a house at Sutton—he said it was a very good investment, value £1,400 or £1,500—I believed those
statements—he said it was freehold property; and acting on those statements, I gave him an open cheque for £905 6s. 4d., drawn on my private bank, Glyn, Mills, and Co., to Peacock or bearer—he said, "Don't cross it, Mr. Buckle"—I did not—he said, "I want to complete the mortgage to-morrow, and I must do it, and then you shall have the deeds—the trust fund was £945 6s. 4d.—he owed me £40 at the time; he was to put the £40 to the £905 6s. 4d. I gave him—I had lent him as a personal loan £50, and he had repaid me £10—I used to go to him pretty often about this time to consult him about my affairs—the next time I went I asked him for the deeds—I forget whether the mortgage deeds or what deeds; they were the trust deeds—he said, "They are in my bank; I have not had time to get them yet"—that satisfied me for the moment—I called again in a few days, and he said, "They are in the bank; I have not had time to get them out"—when I asked him the last time he said, "They are in the bank, I have as much right to the deeds as you have; I am as much trustee as you are; I would not be trustee with you another day if it were not that I should have to go before the Court"—I don't know the date of that—the dividends had been payable half yearly—I held the fund in trust for Mrs. Kendrew and Mrs. Water house, who had been paid half-yearly—the April dividend became due on April 13th—I received from the prisoner two cheques (£6 3s. 8d. and £7 8s. 6d.) drawn by himself as representing the interest on the trust fund—I paid them over to the persons for whose benefit I held the trust—in October, 1887, he borrowed £50 of me, and in making the loan I deducted from it the interest which would be payable to these two people—in April, 1888, he sent me a cheque for £13 12s. 2d. for the interest, and I paid it to the people entitled to it—up to that time I had no doubt at all but that the money was on the Sutton property, and I had implicit confidence in the prisoner, but in April information came to my knowledge, and I refused to have anything more to do with him as a client and placed my affairs in the hands of Messrs. Carritt and Son, who have acted for me since in endeavouring to get some explanation as to what had become of my money—this cash account is vouched by the prisoner himself; I know his writing—it was the first definite information given at all with regard to the £905 (This account contained the items "advanced on mortgage of the Sale and Exchange' to Mrs. Buckle,)£500," and "ditto on mortgage to Mr. Loines on property at Sutton, Surrey, £300.") I never authorised £500 to be advanced out of the trust fund to Mrs. Buckle or anybody—I had no knowledge that the trust fund had been so applied, I knew nothing at all about it—I knew nothing of the mortgage to Mr. Loines; I never lent or authorised to be lent £300 to Loines—I don't think I have seen these answers before—from December, 1886, down to early in this year I was under the impression that the money was on the Sutton property.
Cross-examined. My wife was present at two of my interviews with Peacock—I am sure she was present when he got the money on December 3rd, after the execution of the trust deed—that was the first time—the second occasion was when I asked him for the deeds, and when he said that if it was not for the nuisance he should go to the Court and get released—I cannot tell you the year—I knew my wife had bought the Sale and Exchange newspaper—she did not represent it to me as a good paying business—she did not consult me when she bought it—I
don't know whose money she bought it with—I didn't trouble about the paper; she holds one view and I another about it—we don't dis agree about it—I am disgusted with it; I don't know if it is a good paying paper—I cannot say if she invests money without my knowledge now and then—I allow her to do what she likes with my money; play ducks and drakes with it—I did not consult her in every step—I told her I was going to ask Peacock to be trustee; she was quite willing—I told her I was going to invest the money in a mortgage at Sutton—I don't know what interest we were to get; we were to get better interest if we could—I did not tell her, nor did she ask me, what interest to were going to get—it was not 6 per cent.—the beneficiaries of the trust had the same amount of interest as before—I sent them what Peacock gave me—I did not put any interest in my pocket—I have not been threatened with any civil or criminal proceedings with reference to this trust fund—I am sure no proceedings have been taken against me—I can't say when it was first brought to my knowledge that Peacock alleged £500 was advanced on the Sale and Exchange to my wife—I cannot remember whether the deed appointing him trustee was written on paper or parchment—I showed it to my wife when it was sent to me—I did not sign it at home because I wanted a witness—I have lent money to my son Charles—Peacock backed a bill for £100 drawn by Peacock and Charles Buckle; the money was lent to Peacock—I do not know that it went to my son—I swear I have not required Peacock as security for other loans made to my son—I will swear £40 was not lent to Charles with Peacock as security—I had one deed shown me at Bow Street—it was not this indenture of mortgage between my wife and me—I was asked whether a certain signature was my wife's, and I said it was not—I have not seen this signature before; I don't believe it is hers—no one suggested to me that criminal proceedings should be taken in this case—my wife might have talked about it, I don't know that she did—I did not say anything—Inspector Conquest did not ask me or suggest to me to prosecute—I don't know that I have made any statements about the matter—I did not know Mr. Loines till this year—I met him at Peacock's office two or three times; I don't know when—I did not know his name—I did not see him on business—he has not been in the room when I and Peacock have discussed business matters—I never spoke to him—I don't know that Peacock told me he was building at Sutton; I won't swear he did not—I have not invested in other land at Sutton without consulting Peacock, nor has my wife, to my knowledge—I do not know that she has invested £700 in land there—I do not know that she has invested in copper mines, or that she has dropped £3,000 in them—I leave all business details to her—she took an active part in the investments in the property at Sutton; I don't know if inquiries were made.
Re-examined. I recognise these cheques as representing loans I made to Peacock from time to time, and which he has never repaid; July 23rd, 1886, £50—£10 of that was repaid, and I put the other £40 to the trust money—June 15th, 1887, £100—I cannot say if that has been repaid—10th October, 1887, a loan to him—this mortgage is not signed by Mrs. Buckle to the best of my belief—I never authorised any trust money to be advanced to her on mortgage—I never heard of such a thing; I could not do it; and if it had been suggested to me I should have said I could not do it—these are Peacock's cheques for the interest; that is the whole
of it—I handed them over to Mrs. Kendrew and Mrs."Waterhouse—there was no pocketing of any difference by me.
JAMES MARTIN . I am a clerk in Messrs. Glyn, Mills' Bank, Lombard Street—in December, 1886, Mr. James Buckle had an account there—on 3rd December, 1886, I cashed his cheque for £905 6s. 4d. over the counter in nine £100 notes, numbered 10033 to 10041, and the balance in cash.
ALFRED MASON . I am a clerk in the Union Bank, Chancery Lane Branch—I produce a certified copy of the prisoner's account at that branch—on 3rd December, 1886, there was placed to his credit £900, composed of nine £100 notes, numbered 10033 to 10041—upon that account the prisoner continued to operate down to 12th April, 1887, on which date the balance to his credit was £165 8s. 7d.—on that day he was indebted to the bank £700, but I find an entry to his credit of £700, which paid off the loan with interest, so that a balance was left at the end of the day of £165—he operated on his account through last year—at present he has overdrawn it £19 19s. 5d.; so that the £900 paid in on 3rd December, 1886, has all been drawn out by his cheques.
Cross-examined. I cannot tell from this copy of the ledger if a great number of cheques were drawn in favour of Loines—I recognise the writing in this pass-book as that of one of our clerks who is not here.
WILLIAM HOOD I am one of the firm of Aird and Hood, of 4, Brabant Court, Philpot Lane—early in 1887 Mr. Wilshire, a surveyor, applied to us to advance money on mortgage on a house at Sutton—I ascertained that the house was known as Huntingfield Lodge, and that Mr. Loines, the builder of it, was the person who wanted the money—he saw me plenty of times on the subject, and he was the man to whom I afterwards handed the money—we had a survey made; I had a report as to the value of the house—I agreed to lend the money subject to the surveyor's report being satisfactory and the house being let—this agreement for the letting of the house was afterwards produced to me—on the subject of lending the money I entered into a correspondence with Peacock as solicitor for the borrower—on 15th March, 1887, I received this letter from him, making an appointment for me to attend at his office to inspect the deeds (This letter also said that he would then produce the original and hand over a copy of the tenant's agreement)—I did not attend that appointment on the 16th; my clerk did—he brought back certain documents; I don't know if he brought this copy of the tenant's agreement or if he sent it; I received it about that date—I think by the notes on it that my clerk brought it—I can swear I received it from Peacock by my clerk's hand or by my own—it is an agreement of 16th March, 1887, between the Rev Coghlan, the tenant, and Loines—my clerk having attended the appointment made, brought back this copy on the same day—there is a letter of 17th March enclosing it—on the faith of its being let, and on the report of the surveyor, I agreed to lend £925, but I only advanced £775, taking security for £925; the balance was to be advanced on the certificate of our surveyor as to the completion of the building—I did not attend the completion myself; my clerk did it; I believe it took place at Peacock's, because I sent a cheque for £925 to be cashed; "to order" was knocked off; it was cashed—I received the mortgage of 12th April, 1887; that was the original mortgage by Loines to me; he was adjudicated bankrupt about a fortnight after it was
executed—the tenant was said to be in possession, and he was nominally, because he kept the key, and kept the place locked up—we made inquiries, and it was let to Peacock—I never got any rent, and I had to pay Coghlan £10 to get him out in September or October, 1888; he wanted more—I received from Peacock two notices on or about June 6th, 1887, one that the equity of redemption belonging to Loines had been assigned to Peacock on April 12th, and the other a notice of a second charge on the property in favour of Mr. Buckle for an advance of £350, indenture dated April 24th, 1887—he did not pay it off; I had a number of excuses, and on October 20th the interest became due, and Peacock enclosed me his own cheque for £22 for interest—I wrote to him for the amount on October 21st, and I believe I got it—I received this letter on 24th October (Acknowledging a cheque for insurance)—the property was then up for sale at the Mart—I had given him full notice of the sale on December 16th, and it was put up, but unfortunately there was not a single bid—beyond the cheque for interest in October I have not had a penny, and I should be very glad to sell it now—after Louces became bankrupt I began to think it was a conspiracy between the three—I told Peacock I should lay it before the Treasury, and another time I said I should lay it before the Law Society.
Cross-examined. That was not later than the spring of last year, and it might have been in 1887—I did not communicate with the Treasury, I could not get sufficient evidence—Mr. Wilshire, the surveyor, introduced the matter to me—I trusted to him—I asked him whether Huntingfield Lodge was let and to whom—he said to the Rev. Coghlan or Vaughan—I said, "Is it a bona fide affair?"—he said, "Yes"—almost on the same day that it was placed in my hands I had this document saying that it was let to Coghlan—I lent two-thirds of the value, clients' money—I tested the security by taking the report of a surveyor—he reported that £925 would fairly represent two-thirds of the property.
CHARLES WATSON HILL . I am a solicitor, of Bedford Row—I am agent to Stamp, Jackson and Co., trustees of a fund amounting to £500—Mr. Vintry was my client in that matter—the sum was invested at three per cent., and was part of a larger sum of £6,000—Mr. J. Buckle was the sole surviving trustee for the whole fund, Mr. Leighton having died in the July previous—to the best of my knowledge, I went first to young Mr. Buckle, and he referred me to Mr. Peacock—I asked Peacock for what purpose he wished to remove the distrangas—he said Mr. Buckle was the sole trustee—Mr. Leighton had recently died, and it was proposed to appoint him a trustee with Mr. Buckle—it was not proposed to deal with the clients' portion of the fund, only with the other portion; and I think he said he was a friend of the family—ultimately my part of the fund was transferred, after considerable difficulty, to my clients and I went out of the matter, and know no more about it—Mr. Peacock was never appointed a trustee of that part of the property.
FREDERICK BLASSON CARRITT . I am one of the firm of Carritt and Sons, solicitors—in April, last year, the Bucklesplaced their affairs in my hands—in the first instance I went into communication with the prisoner, and after wards with some solicitors he named to me, Messrs. Smith and Rydon—my
purpose was to get information from him as to certain sums of money and documents obtained from them—from April, 1888, down to December I was endeavouring from him, and then from Smith and Rydon, to get information with regard to the position of things as between the Buckles and himself—in my letter of 30th July, 1888, I ask the prisoner for particulars of the investment of £940 in respect of which I was informed he and Mr. Buckle were trustees—in this letter of 1st August, 1888, from Smith and Rydon, the prisoner says that a large amount is due to him for costs, and without the payment of that sum he takes the position of affording no information; he says he stands on his strict legal rights—there is no reference in that letter to £945 in his possession as trustee—I pressed for particulars in regard to how that sum had been disposed of; and I obtained a cash account vouched by him, and under his hand, as being his account of how the sum was disposed of—I was not satisfied with that account—I put certain questions on 10th November, desiring there should be answers in writing, and suggesting my clerk should attend and take them down—this is a copy of the questions I sent him—he gave these answers, which were taken by the clerk and brought to me—I was present at the time the answer was dictated. (The answers to the second and fourth questions were read as follows): "The amount received was £905 6s. 4d.; the date is correct. On several occasions Charles Buckle borrowed money from his father, who would never lend unless I agreed to be security for him; I daresay there was this sum of £40, and Charles had it, but it was to him and not to me I formally guaranteed to pay those loans to Charles, but it was understood I should not be looked to for anything; this £905 was trust money It was proposed that I should be trustee, but it was not carried out. There is no document appointing me or creating the trust that I know of; £500 of this £905 was lent on the Sale and Exchange against my express wish There was a mortgage executed by Mrs. Buckle and Mr. Buckle on the newspaper Mr. Buckle, junior, persuaded Mrs. Buckle to prevail on Mr. Buckle to lend this money I held the mortgage; this mortgage was probably executed the last week in December, 1886; the witness is E. J. Lindley I produce cheques against the Sale and Exchange for wages, and will give a list. I used to draw cheques and give cash up to £500; the £500 was left in my hands to advance the Sale and Exchange. I had no written authority to do this. Referring to the £50 above that Charles Buckle had, I paid £10 back on 11th November, 1886 The contract to purchase the printing business connected with the Sale and Exchange is in Mr. James Buckle's name, his name being signed by Charles Buckle under a Power of Attorney Mr. Buckle owned the printing business, Mrs. Buckle the paper, and she had it years before I knew her"—"This sum (£350) was advanced to Mr. Loines, of Champion Park, Sydenham, for building purposes, and was a second charge. I have no written authority to make the advance; it was made against my advice I gave notice to the first mortgagee, and took an assignment of the equity, having lent him £200 myself The house was not sold when put up for auction, and the only mortgage on it is £735 Vaughan was a bona fide tenant of this house. I did not know what Vaughan was, and had been taken in by him just as much as Mrs. Buckle. J. W. Buckle was entitled to £300 under Ambrose Buckle's will, which I got out of Court for him when he came Of age"—those are the only answers I received with regard to the £905
and £350—the questions were submitted on 10th September, and his answers are dated 11th December—the answers were not satisfactory—eventually the Solicitor to the Treasury communicated with me, and I gave him the information he required.
Cross-examined. The Treasury came to me—I did not advise these criminal proceedings, although I was acting for Mr. and Mrs. Buckle—in April, 1888, they came to me as clients; they were unable to give me much information then—I was in possession of as much information as they could tell me by midsummer—I received a letter from the prisoner—I daresay this, of 22nd October, 1888, is it—(This said, that considering upwards of £ 1,100 had been spent on Huntingdon House, and, from what he knew of the value of property at Sutton, Messrs. Carritt's estimate seemed exceedingly low, and that he was convinced that with some money spent on it would not be worth less than £1,500)—he said there was ample value—I never had an independent valuation of the property—I negotiate advances on land for clients—I have had to foreclose—it frequently happens that the estimate put on land by the valuer is not arrived at by the public—there is no doubt it is a very bad time for land; it generally has to be bought in—I have met Mrs. Buckle in consultation—she has struck me as a remarkably shrewd woman of business, making allowance for the deficiencies of female intellect—Mr. Buckle is not a sharp man of business—Mrs. Buckle has made unfortunate investments in tin mines.
Re-examined. She did not tell me under whose advice she acted in the matter—I know that Messrs. Aird and Hood have offered the property for sale in public, and that it would not realise £775.
WILLIAM SAVERS . I am one of the assistant Solicitors to the Treasury—I produce the fiat of the Attorney-General—I have examined the original deeds creating this trust, and especially as to the securities; the real words are "Government securities, and at the end of the deed is a provision that in case of the death of a trustee the surviving trustee has the power to appoint another.
Cross-examined. I was the solicitor for the prosecution at the Police court—I gave the defendant notice of the additional witnesses I intended to call; I believe I did that on my own responsibility—Mr. Hood was not called at the Police-court, but his clerk was—I do not know whether Mrs. Buckle was called—I have never shown her the deed bearing her alleged signature; I never had it in my possession—I believe I saw it at the Police-court—I took a statement from James William Loines; I did not go to him, I met him here, and took his statement—I had given the defendant notice before that, as I intended to call him—I served this notice (produced)—I believe I went through part of Mrs. Buckled statement.
MARY BUCKLE . I am the wife of James Buckle—the prisoner was our solicitor from 1885 down to the beginning of 1888—my husband was a trustee with Mr. Leighton, who died on September 7th, 1885, in the sum of £1,000, and we had some conversation about a new trustee being appointed—he went to the prisoner about it on the 28th or 30th, and I made an entry in my diary, which I have sent to the Treasury—on December 3rd, 1886, I went with my husband to Peacock, and saw him pay a cheque into Peacock's hands—Mr. Buckle wished to invest the money in
gas shares, and Peacock objected—he said, "I have made arrangements to put it into some property at Sutton, and I will not be a trustee if the money is put into gas shares; I want the money to-day particularly, because I hare arranged to close the mortgage to-morrow," and the cheque was handed over—he said, "You had better write to Ken drew and Waterhouse to know what they received," and I wrote—and he said, "I send you the amount, and you can pay them with your cheques"—he was not aware the money was invested in any other property till we changed our solicitor—I was present at the third inter view—he said, "The deeds are in the bank, Mr. Buckle; you seem to doubt me; if I had not to take them up before the Court I would not go on another day"—he said that £900 was invested on that property—matters went on till 1888, and then we made discoveries, and declined to continue, and put our affairs into Messrs. Carritt's hands, and then came the discovery that the money was never invested—according to the cash account supplied to Messrs. Carritt, £500 was advanced to me as a mortgage on the Sale and Exchange newspaper; but no such advance was ever made to me.
Cross-examined. I am owner of the Sale and Exchange—whether it is a paying concern is my business—Peacock has only made one advance to me, that was £240—he paid it to my son to buy the business—he said that a client of his advanced the money—he paid the printing for two weeks, but in the meantime he used to borrow money occasionally—the printing and wages have not been advanced by him—I was not examined at the Police-court in this case—I was not there when my husband gave evidence—I have never signed a parchment document at Peacock's office; if you show me two witnesses to it, I shall still adhere to that answer—I have frequently been to Peacock's office without my husband; his wife used to send for me—two boys used to be there—my husband never troubled much about the Sale and Exchange; he may have said that he was sick of the whole thing, he thought it was a good investment when it was bought, but being neglected it has gone down—I never heard that the £257 was part of a sum of £500 advanced to me on the Sale and Exchange—this document (produced) is not my writing, but it is a good imitation—I swear I never wrote it—that man (Lindley, a soldier) was one of the boys who used to be at the office; I do not remember that one (Shepherd)—I do not remember signing a deed, and Lindley being called in to witness it—there is no truth in it—I have never seen the call-book—I first saw Mr. Loines in Peacock's office waiting there—Peacock and his wife occupied a little back room at the office, and I was introduced to Loines there not in a business matter, but I understood that Peacock was advancing the £900 on property belonging to Loines, a client of his, who was building a house—Mr. Buckle and I were interested in another land speculation at Sutton, but I never spoke to Peacock about the value of property at Sutton—I never doubted Peacock—I never signed a parchment deed at his office in my life. (The deed purported to be signed by Mary Buckle, on the blank day of blank, for a consideration of £400, not £500, and unstamped).
Re-examined. This undated, unstamped, and unexecuted deed was never signed by me—after Peacock removed from Clement's Inn he went to Token house Yard; his name was on one door and "Foster and Co." on the other; that was Coghlan or Vaughan—the rooms communicated with each other—Coghlan has been convicted of forging my husband's
signature—the £240 which he said was the money of a client of his, was the only advance he made me—he is in debt to the Sale and Exchange; I told the book-keeper to say he had not got any cash, he called so often for it.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDMUND JACKSON LINDLEY . I am a corporal in the Royal Marine Light Infantry—in 1886 and 1887 I was clerk to Mr. Peacock—I kept the call-book, but Shepherd used to keep it as well; this first entry is mine, and the second his—the first two pages of this mortgage are mine, and the rest is Shepherd's—I know Bryants, the law stationers; they brought this other document, and I took it in—in February, 1887, Mrs. Buckle called, and Mr. Peacock was not in; she came again, and was shown in to him; he then rang the bell, there was a bit of a scuffle between me and Shepherd, and I got in first and saw Mr. Peacock and Mrs. Buckle in the room—Mr. Peacock showed me this deed; I saw Mrs. Buckle sign it, and I was the attesting witness; this "E. J. Lindley" is my writing—I left Peacock's service eighteen months ago.
Cross-examined. I cannot say the exact date—Mrs. Buckle's name is in the call-book once on February 7th, not twice—I must admit that one or two calls are not entered; I may have been out—I have said that the first entry on February 7th is mine, and the second Shepherd's—I only see the one entry in my writing—there is no entry of Shepherd's of a second visit of Mrs. Buckle on February 7th—I cannot account for the date of May 9th, which is on the back of the deed—I cannot say whether the deed which I attested was dated, I only saw the part where I signed my name—I know Vaughan; he called twice while I was there—he did not go to Token house Yard with them; he may have called in February—I was not in Mr. Peacock's employ in April or May, 1887—when I went into the room Shepherd stood at the open door, and could see in, and see what was happening—I was not in the service on 30th July, 1886; I enlisted on 28th July, 1887—I went into Mr. Peacock's service some time in November, 1886, and remained till the end of February, 1887—I was there about three months—I saw the draft deed, and saw the parchment when I signed it, and when Mr. Peacock left the room it was lying on his table, and the ink was wet—it was not after Mr. Peacock had left the room that I attested the signature, I attested it while he was in the room, and the ink was wet when I went in again—that was the only parchment deed I ever saw in the three months I was there—I never saw an appointment of himself as co-trustee or any mortgage deed—the first entry of Mrs. Buckle's name before Mr. Loines's is in my writing—Mr. Loines was a constant caller; he was very intimate with Mr. Peacock—I cannot account for there being no entry of Mrs. Buckle's second visit—here is "Will call again" after Captain Storr's name; that was usual—I cannot explain why there is no such entry after Mrs. Buckle's name—I called once after I left, and my name is here on February 21st—I see Mr. Vaughan's name here 16/7/87; that is not my writing—I cannot say whether this deed was signed on February 16th, I have no record of the date; it may have been—I do not find any record on February 16th of a visit from Mrs. Buckle.
Re-examined. On my oath I saw Mrs. Buckle write this signature, and I signed my name I left Mr. Peacock's service in February, I do not know the exact date, and went to a firm at Nottingham before I enlisted
—I shall have been in the regiment two years on 28th July next—I am now a full corporal—from the day I left Mr. Peacock's service till to day I have had no communication with him.
MARY BUCKLE (Re-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN). This is my signature to this document—I was to enter into negotiations with Mr. Sharman regarding the Sale and Exchange—I think Peacock read this document to me before I signed it—I signed one with Sharman—he was to have the management—I never hoard that the sale of the 6-7th's share subject to the executors' mortgage was to secure payment of £500," or that the paper was mortgaged to James Rich, and that the mortgage was recited in the date, although it is signed by myself.
GEORGE SHEPHERD .—I am a cabinet-maker, working at Hampstead—in February, 1887, I was office boy or clerk to Mr. Peacock—I kept the call-book with Lindley—I sometimes made the entries and sometimes he did—if two persons called twice within half an hour I should only enter one—this entry of Mrs. Buckle's call on February 7 is in Lindley's writing—I remember her calling, Lindley and I were in the outer office when she was shown in—the bell then rang—there was a struggle between us who should answer it, and he got in first—Mrs. Buckle and Mr. Peacock were in the room, the door was shut, and Lindley came out and told me something—directly after they left Lindley and I went in and saw this document which is now in front of me, on the table—the ink was wet.
Cross-examined. I fix the date in February, 1887, from the draft being taken to be engrossed—Mrs. Buckle was there two or three times a week—my anxiety to get into the room was because it being my first place in a solicitor's office, I wanted to witness the execution of the deed—I went into Mr. Peacock's employment on December 1st—I cannot remember any deed after that date—I cannot explain why I fixed this as the first deed—I cannot remember attesting any deed under which Mr. Peacock was appointed a trustee with Mrs. Buckle—I don't know why "Will call again" was not put in Mrs. Buckle's case, I did not enter it—there is a cross to the entry—this "Will call again" after Captain Storr's name is Lindley's writing, and the next entry, "Mrs. Buckle," is Lindley's, but there is no cross and no "Call again"—there is nothing to indicate that she would call again—she was always calling about that time—I am quite sure the door was shut; it is not true that I stood at the open doorway—I did not see Lindley or Mrs. Buckle sign—Mr. Vaughan used to call, and was closeted with Mr. Peacock for some time and Mr. Loines.
Re-examined. The third sheet only of this draft mortgage of the Sale and Exchange newspaper is in my writing, but I cannot remember whether it was written before Mrs. Buckle called.
JAMES WILLIAM LOINES . I am a surveyor, of 50, Orwell Road, Clap ham Junction—in June, 1886, Mr. Owen introduced me to Mr. Peacock, as I wanted to raise money for building a house at Sutton, to be called Huntingfield Lodge—Owen was the freeholder—Peacock lent me money from time to time; the total was about £1,000—I believe this is my signature to this mortgage; it recites the advance of £350—eight houses were to be built on the estate—Dorey built the property for me, and I advanced him so much money—he was insolvent, and I failed too—Peacock said that the money he supplied me with was Mr. Buckle's—we
had some bricks from Trapp later on—Mr. Peacock bought the equity, and paid me over £100—there was £86 to the brick-maker alone.
Cross-examined. I never saw Peacock till this transaction; I used constantly to call for the advance—I used to sign a charge each time for what I had—I received about £800 down to April, 1887—I remember the mortgage to Aird and Hood—Mr. Peacock had the money; I did not receive any of it—I parted with my interest in the premises—I filed my petition about April 18th, and about 20th May I went into the Bankruptcy Court—I saw Mr. Buckle occasionally, but never spoke to him about the charge; I had no occasion to—he was not there when the charge was signed—I remember Mr. Coghlan coming to the premises—I knew him as Vaughan, and thought he was a gentleman of means—I knew that Coghlan would not advance money till a tenant was found, which was done in about a week.
Re-examined. Vaughan came to the house with two van-loads of furniture—I know it was good, but I am not a judge of the cost—I went there to meet it.
WILLIAM BRYANT . I am a law stationer, of Queen Anne's Gate—the endorsement on this draft mortgage, "Mrs. Buckle to James Buckle,' is mine—the date is February 4th, 1887, showing that it was copied by my firm on that date—this deed was engrossed in my office.
GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BUCK Prosecuted.
JOHN CARNEY (Policeman R 9). About half-past eleven on the night of 26th February I was on duty in Knott Street, Deptford, with Hankin son—I heard a noise in No. 11, an unoccupied house—I had seen that house about an hour before, it was then quite secure, the front door was shut; one of the windows on the ground floor was boarded up—about eleven I saw that the boarding had been pulled down—I got into the house through No. 12, the next door—on getting over the wall I saw Sullivan getting out of the back window on the first floor—I said, "Sullivan, I know you; you had better surrender"—while I was calling out to him my attention was attracted to the front of the house—I called out to Hankinson, "Look out, there is another man, go to the front"—at this time I had not taken Sullivan—I found some lead piping upstairs cut up, and some downstairs, with some brass taps—Sullivan retired into the front room upstairs—I followed and found both the prisoners there—there was about 20 lbs. of lead and a brass tap upstairs, and about 20 lbs. and a brass tap downstairs—I took Sullivan, and Hankinson took O'Hara, he was very violent, he pretended to be drunk, but he was sober and Sullivan also—in the back garden I found a chisel and
this piece of lead—I showed Sullivan the lead, and told him he would be charged with stealing it—he said he only came in there to have a sleep—at the station he said he found the door open, and only went in to have a sleep.
CHARLES HANKINSON (Policeman R R 42) I was with Carney—I have heard his evidence, it is correct—I saw O'Hara come to the front first floor window and partly get out; I called out to him, "Come down the coping and surrender—he then got back into the window—I forced the street door and went upstairs, and took him into custody—I told him he would be charged with Sullivan in stealing the lead—he made no reply, he behaved very violently, and commenced to struggle with me—I got him to the station; he behaved very violently there—I did not strike him at all.
THOMAS COX . I am foreman in the service of the House Property In vestment Company; their offices are at 92, Cannon Street—I was at No. 11, Knott Street on 26th February, at 10 a.m., the piping was then all in its place, and the taps as well—next morning everything was taken away, and about £40 of damage done.
The Prisoners, in their Defence, stated that, being tired, they went into the house to sleep, but had no sooner got in than the constables came.
SULLIVAN then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction in April, 1888, to a like offence. Convictions were also proved against O'HARA.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.
CAROLINE BUTLER . I am the wife of George Butler, of 2, Canning Street, Rotherhithe; the prisoner is my eldest son—on 26th January, about half-past four, I went up the street, and returned home with the prisoner; he was very drunk—I went upstairs to make the bed; I remember his coming into the room, but I remember nothing after that—when I became conscious I was sitting on the kerbstone outside my front door, bleeding from the chin—I was taken to the hospital, and was an in-patient for three weeks—a few days before this we had had a few words, but not any angry words; I was jawing him because he had not got any work; he had been away in the country looking for work—on this day I went to where he had been drinking, and brought him home.
GEORGE BUTLER . I am the prisoner's brother—he was in the house when mother went upstairs—he went out into the back yard, came in again almost directly, and went into the front room; came out again and went upstairs—he first took his coat off and threw it on a chair—I went up and saw him and mother struggling—I separated them, and brought her downstairs—there was blood on her neck; the prisoner had what looked like a razor in his hand—I went for assistance; when I returned the prisoner had gone—I put the apron round my mother's neck—she was subsequently taken to Guy's Hospital—I saw the prisoner at the Police-station the same evening—he was very drunk when this occurred—for the last six months he has often been drunk—the razor was my
father's, it was kept in the front room—I was at home when mother brought my brother in; there was no row between them, they seemed to be quite peaceable—he did not say anything to me when he went upstairs.
WILLIAM READ . I am a labourer, and live next door to the prisoner—about half-past four on 26th January I was in my kitchen—I heard screams; my wife ran out first, and then I went out—I saw Mrs. Butler, her body lying in the road and her head on the kerb; as she turned over I saw she was bleeding—I saw the prisoner standing at the door—he did nothing; he stood there for about ten minutes—while I was picking up his mother, he said, "Bill, I have done it"—he went up the street, I followed him, he appeared sober to me.
HARRIETT READ . I am the wife of the last witness—I heard screams, went out and saw Mrs. Butler lying on the path—the prisoner said, "I am the man that done it; go and fetch a policeman"—he seemed sober—he walked quite straight.
JAMES O'CONNOR . I live at 3, Joy Place, Rotherhithe—I saw a crowd at the top of Canning Street, and Mrs. Butler lying on the pavement—the prisoner was standing at the door; he afterwards went up the street—I followed him, he seemed sober to me; he walked straight—I followed him into Southwark Park—I saw him throw away a razor-case; I picked it up; there was no razor in it.
FREDERICK LEWIS (Policeman M 356). I arrested the prisoner in South wark Park about eight or ten minutes' walk from the house—I said, "You must come to the station with me; I suppose you know what for?"—he said, "Yes, all right; I will go quietly"—he had been drinking, but was not drunk; he was sensible enough to know what he was about.
GEORGE ALSTEN (Police Inspector. On 26th January, about five, I was called to 2, Canning Street, where I saw the woman with her throat cut—I saw the prisoner at the station; he seemed quite right—I cautioned him not to say anything that might do him harm—he said, "The only thing I have to say is that I would sooner be dead than alive"—after the charge was read over he said, "That's quite right"—he appeared to be recovering from drink; he was not drunk, but he had evidently been drinking.
JOHN ROBERT SAMUEL HAYWARD , M. D. I live at 150, Rotherhithe Street—on 26th January, about five, I was called to Canning Street, where I saw Mrs. Butler lying half on the kerb and half in the road in front of her house—I had her carried indoors and laid on a bed, and examined her—her throat was cut in two places and bleeding—the wound on the left side was two inches long by one and a half deep, the other was on the right side of "the throat, two inches long by three-quarters deep; there was also a wound on the back of the right wrist two inches long by half an inch deep—I dressed the wounds, and had her immediately removed to Guy's Hospital—it must have been done by a very sharp instrument, such as a razor—there would not be much violence required with a sharp instrument—she was not sober—the wounds were dangerous from loss of blood, otherwise they were not of a very dangerous nature, except erysipelas set in; they escaped the serious vessels, the jawbone no doubt prevented the second wound proving fatal—the left wound was more vital than the other—she was quite three weeks in the hospital—she is out of danger now.
Prisoner's Defence. It was done in drink; I did not know what I was doing at the time.
GUILTY Sergeant Jackson stated that the prisoner had previously hadone month's imprisonment for violently assaulting his mother.
Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted, and MR. TOWELL Defended.
JAMES RICHARDS I am manager of the Boscawen Road depot of Pickford and Co.—the prisoner was a carman there—it was his duty to go into the City twice a day—he would back his cart against the shed, and he and his boy would take the horse into the adjoining yard and come back and assist in unloading the goods—among the parcels checked off his van was a parcel of boots on the night in question, about 12.15—I was coming through a little wicket gate which could be got over then, but it has been altered now—I saw the prisoner running with a parcel under his arm on the other side of the road and into a stable, which has two doors which open outwards into the yard—he opened them and went in—I went on into the other yard where the men were at work, and called the watchman, who came back and brought me this parcel of boots—I sent for a constable and went with him to find the prisoner, but could not—I gave the constable his address and a full description of him.
Cross-examined. I know a boy named Hall; I did not see him on February 9th—I went to his house on the following night—I did not ask him what Latham was doing with the parcel, nor did he say, "I do not think he meant to steal it"—the prisoner said at the station that he did it for a lark with the watchman.
Re-examined. The gates were all locked—he could only get out by getting over the top of the gate.
WILLIAM HANMAN . I am a watchman at the Deptford depot of Pickford and Co.—on February 9th, about 11.20 p.m., the prisoner brought a van there; it was unloaded and the parcels checked off—he had taken his horses into the stable before that—he left the yard at 11.55 with his van boy, and I barred the gate securely after them—later on Mr. Richards called me and gave me instructions, and I went to the stable and found this parcel which had come off the prisoner's van.
Cross-examined. It is my duty to watch the yard at night to see if any body comes in—the prisoner once said to me, "How easy it would be to get over these gates without anybody seeing"—I said, "It would not be so easy as you think of"—one of the boys who came in after him was in the act of unharnessing his horses when he put the parcel down.
FREDERICK HORNBEAM . I am in Messrs. Pickford's employ—on 9th February I checked the defendant's van—this is the sheet on, which 11.50 is marked as the time the prisoner left—I did not see him leave the yard—this is one of the parcels which came off his van; there were 119.
JOHN FARMIN (Policeman R 9). I went to the prisoner's lodging, and told him he would be charged with stealing a parcel from his employers—he said, "That is the fruits of having a lark with the watchman, I ought to have gone at the time and told the governor all about it."
CHARLES HOWLETT . I am a van guard in the prosecutor's employ—on 9th February I was in the stable putting my horses away, and the prisoner suddenly ran in with this parcel—he put it down by the side of the corn-bin, and said, "He has seen me"—the watchman took it away.
Cross-examined. After finishing work inside the yard, the watchman let out the prisoner and Hales, his van boy—they wished each other good night, and parted—on the Tuesday following, Hales told the general manager, in my presence, that Latham told him a fortnight before that he was going to have a lark with the watchman—the boy left of his own accord.
Re-examined. The prisoner was let out on bail after the first hearing, and also after he was committed for trial—my conversation with Hales was after he was out on bail—they were together on the Monday—he was with Carter, Paterson's three months before he came to us, and eight years with us.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILSON Prosecuted; MR. MOORE Defended Norris, and MR. PURCELL Defended Moss.
JOHN MARONEY I am a labourer, living in Watergate Street, Dept ford—on 9th February I went with Ryan to a political meeting at a museum at Sayes' Court, Deptford—shortly after I got in I saw the prosecutor standing by the side of the stage—the steward Ryan came up and called my attention to three men, of whom the prisoners were two, standing near me; Norris was the centre man and Moss was on the left—the prosecutor turned round to get hold of his boy to fetch him to the side of the platform, and Norris pressed up close against his breast and I heard a faint click as if from the snapping of a ring or chain—the gentleman turned round and Norris began to move away—he got about four feet from the gentleman when he discovered his loss—he called out, "My watch is stolen, I have lost it"—I seized hold of Norris by the collar and said, "You have the watch"—he said, "I have not"—I said, "You have passed it"—when I seized him Moss the other man pressed up close against Norris; and then Norris offered to be searched—I pulled him away from the crowd—we searched him and found nothing—on looking round we found Moss and the other man had gone—we searched the hall, and found Moss in the small hall adjoining where an overflow meeting was being held—I said to him, "You were along with Norris just now; you have the watch"—he at once offered to be searched—we did not do it, but held him till the constables came and arrested the two of them—we could not find the third man—a gold swivel was picked up near our feet and a few feet from where Norris was standing—I was a foot or two from Norris when this happened.
Cross-examined by MR. MOORE. It was a very large meeting, about 2,000 people were there, I should think; it was very crowded—there was a certain amount of enthusiasm—people were standing up close together
all over the hall—the overflow meeting was agreed on beforehand—I was immediately behind Norris; I had my eye on him the whole time—I did not see him take the watch—he promptly denied it when I told him he had it—another man called at the Police-station that night and said he had lost his watch; for anything I know to the contrary this might be the swivel of that watch; it is not very likely—I cannot say there was a great deal of crowding and hustling—I was standing—I don't think any persons were sitting, except those on the platform—we were on the out skirts—it was not unduly crowded where we were.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. The meeting was under the auspices of an English Liberal club—I did not observe any waving of hats—there was no unusual pushing about where I was—when I heard the click Moss was about three feet from me and about the same distance from the prosecutor and from Norris—I saw nothing pass from Norris to Moss—I was touching Norris—after the click Moss remained stationary—when I seized Norris, Moss was about seven feet from him—Moss might have been moved involuntarily by the rush up to Norris—when I caught hold of Norris by the collar there was a rush made round, the people closed up—I should not think there were a lot of people standing in front of the prosecutor—I said before the Magistrate of one of the prisoners, "I saw him as good as take the watch; that is my opinion"—I did not know Norris's name—Moss has been out on bail.
Re-examined. When the rush took place Moss and the third man were the first to come up; I think it was involuntary—Norris could have taken the watch without my seeing it, because he was covering the gentleman; when he turned round, Norris covered his breast; he was in front of me, and I could not see over his shoulder to see what he was doing.
By the JURY. I had my eye on Norris because the steward Ryan told me to do so.
THOMAS RYAN . I am a boiler maker, and live at Douglas Street, Dept ford; I was present at this meeting; I was a steward—my attention was attracted to the prisoners and another man by their unnecessarily hustling the crowd—I spoke to Maroney—about three-quarters of an hour after the meeting began, between 5.30 and 6, I saw the prosecutor come in—I went into another room—shortly afterwards I saw a rush, and Norris in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. There was very little pushing about at the meeting; it was a very quiet and orderly meeting—there was a very little shouting at some parts—there was a lot of enthusiasm which was expressed merely by clapping—it was impossible for the people to get nearer the speakers because the crush where the prisoners were was so great—they were at the right-hand corner of the platform.
Re-examined. I picked up this swivel, in close proximity to where I was told Norris was apprehended—persons were seated at the meeting, but not where the prisoners were; it was impossible for a seat to be got there.
BRIAN GALLAGHER . I am a labourer, living at Union Street, Deptford—I was at this meeting—Ryan drew my attention to the prisoners and a third man; I saw them standing near the prosecutor, but I did not see them do anything—when I was alongside the prosecutor I heard him say he had lost his watch—Maroney took hold of Norris, and said, "This
man has got it"—there was a bit of a rush—I did not notice Moss or the other man—I held Norris till he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. MOORE. I did not see Norris take the watch or pass it to anyone—there was a lot of pushing after Maroney took hold of Norris.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. People were trying to get further forward—there is a good deal of scrimmaging at these entertainments.
JULES MAGNEY . On 9th February I went to this meeting nearly at its beginning—I was at the bottom of the stairs leading to the left-hand side of the platform, and I was listening very attentively indeed to the speech being made, then I saw my chain hanging—I felt in my pocket, and my watch was gone—I exclaimed, "Somebody has stolen my watch"—Maroney at the time collared Norris, and said something like, "You did it"—I had seen my watch safe a quarter of an hour before—it was a gold one—this is to all appearance its bow, which was wrenched from the watch—I am strongly inclined to think it is the very ring off my watch—I did not notice anybody round me pushing particularly.
Cross-examined by MR. MOORE. This is only a plain gold ring; there is nothing to identify it as my bow—I cannot say how many millions of them there are in the country—I had unbuttoned my coat and overcoat, as it was very warm—I took my watch out a quarter of an hour before to see the time—there was a great crowd at this meeting.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. We were so very close together that no one could have seen my watch when I took it out—there were not many people behind me; I was on the fringe of the crowd—three or four persons might have been behind me—there was a good deal of turning and twisting, a good deal of shoving, people trying to get in front, a lot of enthusiasm, no waving of hats or handkerchiefs in the air—my son was with me; he was in front of me, a step or two higher up the stairs—I did not turn to him—I put him up on the form—the speaker was Mr. William Redmond, M. P.
JAMES SMITH (Policeman 431 R). On the night of 9th February I was in Evelyn Street, Deptford—I saw the prisoners and another man standing conversing together about five o'clock—they kept walking away from each other and joining again—I watched them down to Sayes' Court Gardens, and lost sight of them, as they went into the museum, where the meeting was being held—I saw them again, when they were in custody, and recognised them.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. They were about 100 yards from the meeting near the Globe public-house when I first saw them, I should think—I had not seen them before; I saw they were strangers, and watched them because of that—several policemen in uniform were near the meeting, I was in plain clothes.
CHARLES HANKINSON (Policeman R R 42). I was on duty at Sayes' Court, where this meeting took place on this night—I received information, and saw Norris being held; the prosecutor was close by—I charged Norris with being concerned with others not in custody in stealing a gentleman's gold watch—he said, "All right, sir, I will go with you to the station; I have not got the watch"—I took him to the station, and charged him—when the charge was read he said, "I never had the watch."
said, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with another in custody with stealing a watch from the person"—he said, "You may search me"—I took him to the station, where ho was charged; he made no answer.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. When I charged him before he was taken to the station what he said was, "You have made a mistake; you may search me; I have not got it"—he was standing at the overflow meeting—there were no people just where he was; he was not trying to get away—I have made inquiries about him; nothing is known against him.
By the COURT. I had previously seen him inside the meeting, and Ryan had made a communication to me as I walked in at the door of the overflow meeting—I had been in the large meeting.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Mathew.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
EMILY HOPKINS . I am a cook to Mrs. Wallace, at Westingdean, Kennington Oval—on Tuesday, 16th February, I was coming downstairs between seven and half-past seven and saw lying on the floor near the street door this letter, not in an envelope—on the back of the letter was written, "To the cook indoors"—I read it and then showed it to my mistress, and after that a complaint was made to the police—after that I wrote this answer to the letter, addressed to "A B C, 11, Royal Terrace, Kennington"—I and Sergeant Jupe went to 11, Royal Terrace, and handed the letter to Mrs. Anderson there, leaving it with her—I do not know the prisoner, I never saw him before I saw him at the Police-court—I do not know the writing of this letter; it is written in violet olouredpencil—I owe nobody any money.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I informed the police the day I received the letter, the 16th February—I did not swear an information against or charge anyone in particular—I did not know where you lived—I did not borrow money from you or anyone—I don't know whether the letter came through the door or the letter-box, which was broken—I found it on the ground—I am the only cook at that house.
MARY SIMMONS . I live at 4, Laws Cottages, Peckham, and am single—I have known the prisoner four years next May, and during that time I have corresponded with him, receiving letters from him, which I answered—I have seen him write—this letter is his writing.
Cross-examined. I can swear it is your writing, because it is in the same writing as the letters you wrote to me—I suppose you wrote those—I received them through the post—I can swear you wrote all the letters I have received.(MR. BODKIN, with the consent of the Court, handed the letter to the Jury to read, as it was of too indecent a character to be read aloud.
ALFRED BODKIN . I live at 11, Royal Terrace, Kennington, and am a plasterer—I have known the prisoner since last summer, when he worked with me—since that time I have seen him from time to time—he has
never lived in the same house with me—I have never given him authority to have letters addressed to my house—on 16th February Mrs. Anderson, my landlady, said something to me, and on the evening of that day I saw the prisoner, and asked him whether he addressed a letter from my place with the initials "A. W."—he said, "Yes, I forgot to tell you; a mate of mine lent a cook fifteen shillings at Brixton"—I said, "Why did not you address it to your own place?"—he said he did not want his missus to know—I told him it did not come by post, it came by some other gentleman, I thought a detective; it came by hand—he said, "When it comes by post take it; when it comes by anyone else, not"—I made him no answer—I knew he lived at 18, Thomas Street—on 28th February I went there in the morning about a shovel—the next time I saw him was when he was in custody.
Cross-examined. I worked with you for five or six weeks at the Russell—you were on and off—I never knew you before then—I have never been at the Police-court—I used often to see you—I only received this letter from you—I saw you no more from the day I came about the letter till the 19th, when I borrowed the shovel—I have worked for a day and a half for a man in the Brixton Road; I don't know his name—you worked there, I don't know for how long—you did not tell me you wrote to him and expected a postcard or letter from him—you did not tell me you were under notice to leave your apartments—you never said you would not trust your landlady to take in your letters and postcards—you never said you were going to have some letters addressed "H. H.," and ask me to take them in—you mentioned about letters to me on that Saturday night—when I told you about the letter I made no answer—I did not go into a public house with you and a friend of yours that night—you have met no friends with me—no one stopped in my room—I took a young chap to your place; you weren't at home—I did not go to a public-house with him—I said I saw a young chap yesterday I had not seen for a long time, and I heard he was wanted—that was all I said about him—I don't know anything about him—you never saw me under the influence of drink.
HENRY JUPE (Detective L). On the Saturday I was communicated with by Mrs. Wallace, and on Monday, 18th, I went with Miss Hopkins to 11, Royal Terrace, and gave Mrs. Anderson the letter (which was written at my dictation), with instructions to give it to the person if he called—on the 21st I went to Thomas Street, two or three streets off, where the prisoner lives—I said to him, "We are police officers; we shall arrest you for sending a threatening letter to Emily Hopkins, demanding money by menaces"—he said, "This is a get-up by my friends, who are trying to put me away; you will have to prove who wrote them"—I saw a woman there; she wanted to know what it was—I said, "Sending threatening letters to cooks and servants"—he said to her, "You will know what to do if I go away; you can sell up and go home to your mother"—Gray, who was with me, searched the premises—the prisoner was taken to the station—I searched him, and found some letters relating to his character in the Army—Gray found this letter, marked "C," and handed it to me—I said to the prisoner, "I have compared this letter with the letter that has been received (A). I have compared the handwriting, and they are very similar; and, in my opinion, they are the same"—he said, "The letter I know nothing about; it was written by a mate of mine; it is not my writing; no one can swear I delivered the letters"—when the charge
was read, he said, "I am not guilty; I do not know the person. If I was guilty, the police would not have found me sitting down at my fireside"—(The Jury were here shown the letter) "C"—I find on the letter to Miss Hopkins, lines ruled on the paper for accounts—I received this book (produced) from Gray—it is ruled in exactly a similar manner, line for line—I find very slight pencil-marks on the right-hand side of the book—the lines on the letter and those in the book are identical.
Cross-examined. I did not require a warrant to come into your house; I arrested you on information I had received—you did not say you would have gone to the station and given yourself up if you had written the letter—you were very quiet.
FREDERICK GRAY (Detective L). I went to 18, Thomas Street, with Jupe—I found this book and these two other books, the letter marked "C," a little bottle of violet ink, and a pencil which makes violet marks on paper, similar to the marks on this letter—I said to the prisoner, "The colour of this pencil is identical with the writing in the letter received by Miss Hopkins"—he said, "You have got to prove it."
Cross-examined. You can't get violet ink at any shop—there are hundreds of pen and pencil cases like this in London—I cannot swear that it was this pencil that wrote the letter; it is identical with it—I found it in your room.
The Prisoner called the following witness in his Defence.
MISS AYDEN. I have been living with you for two years and eight months—I have never known you write a letter of this description to any body—you have never explained money matters to me—I have never received letters in your absence without your knowing of them—I don't remember posting any letters for you except applications for situations—I remember you calling at Bodkin's one night; I don't remember the date; I saw you at his door—you went to bed about ten that night—I saw you at home at 18, Thomas Street about a quarter-past nine, you had not been to 11, Royal Terrace, previously—next morning you got up about nine, I believe—the landlady gave you notice to leave—you were taken away before the expiration of the week.
Cross-examined. Before the Magistrate I said, "This letter 'C' is like one I received from Mr. Hughes. This letter, 'A,' is like his writing; and this one, 'D,' is very much like it."
The Prisoner, in his Defence, denied having written or sent the letter.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
327. WILSON NOTTINGHAM (20) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a bag and other articles, the goods of Harriett Ellison Jenning, from her dwelling-house, after a conviction of felony in July, 1887, in the name of Hugh Rogers; also to obtaining by false pretences from John Orme a medical coil and battery, with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PICKERSGILL Prosecuted.
We went into two public-houses, in the first of which we met the prisoner—my cousin knew him, I did not; we all talked together—I had a watch and a bag containing some gold—while in the prisoner's presence I took it out and changed a sovereign—I put half-a-sovereign in the bag, and I had another half-sovereign loose among some silver—I put the bag in my pocket again—we left the public-house; my cousin left us—the prisoner and I walked along, and outside the Rose he seized me by the throat, pushed me down on my back, and got on me—I called for help—I had my hand down trying to save my watch, and his hand was down beside me—a woman came up, she had a jug of beer, which she threw on him—the prisoner ran away—I missed a half-sovereign afterwards from my pocket; I could not say how it got out, my hand was in my pocket when I fell—I know the half-sovereign was safe ten minutes or a quarter of an hour before—I have not been able to use my arm since—I am under the doctor's care now; I think I have got paralysis—I expect I fell on the kerb when he threw me down; my arm was all right before; it is a kind of sprain; it has been weak ever since—I next saw the prisoner about half-past eleven the same night at a lodging-house, to which a detective and two policemen took me—I am sure he is the man—I said, "That is the man."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not tight; I had had a glass of whisky, but nothing else; I think you were the worse for liquor—we were walking together—we did not slip; you pushed me down, I fell first, and you on my back—we did not have fourteen pots of beer—you came up and joined us; I did not know you.
JAMES ROWE . I am a labourer, and live at 52, Beckett Street, Winn Street, Camberwell—I am Laws's cousin—on 13th February I was out with him; we met the prisoner in the Fountain—I had known him for eighteen months or two years—I called for drink, which my cousin paid for with a 6d.—I told my cousin the prisoner was an old mate of mine, and my cousin treated him to a pot of ale at the Castle, to which he followed us—my cousin took a bag, containing gold, out of his pocket at the Castle, when the prisoner was there—he changed a sovereign—we came out of the public-house, leaving the prisoner there—I left my cousin there—I did not see the prisoner again till I fetched him from the lodging house—when I left the prisoner he was not sober; the prisoner was very drunk; I was about the same as the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. We did not go to the Nag's Head from the Castle—the landlord did not turn us out—we did not go to the Waterloo or the Man of the World—I left Laws standing outside the Rose—I left you at the Castle—I did not help drink fourteen pots of beer.
FREDERICK BEETON . I keep the Bricklayers' Arms, Southampton. Street, Camberwell—I was at the Rose on the evening of the 13th February—my attention was attracted to the reflection of two figures on the glass doors, of two men, who I saw suddenly fall down together—I heard smothered cries of "Help" and "Murder"; I went to the door and saw the prosecutor on his back, and a man who I cannot identify on the top of him—the man ran away—the prosecutor crawled on his hands and knees, he was bleeding from the head, and very much frightened—two constables came up soon afterwards; I told them what I had seen.
February, about half-past ten p.m., I was at my door talking to a neigh bour, when suddenly I heard a man cry out, "Oh, for God's sake don't do that, come and have a drink"—I turned and saw the prosecutor on the ground, and the prisoner over him—the prosecutor crawled into a public-house and the prisoner went to the corner, and the prosecutor came out of the public-house and came over to me and said, "Send for someone," and I sent a little girl for two policemen—the prisoner stood at the corner for about two minutes, and then went, before the policeman came—the prosecutor was bleeding from the ear verybadly—he had fallen.
Cross-examined. I did not see you hit him; you were over him on the ground.
CLARA WALDON I live at 79, Ebdon Street, Walworth—I am the wife of William Waldon—on 13th February I was standing with the last witness, and saw the prosecutor walking rather in front of the prisoner—the prisoner gave the prosecutor a push, which caused him to fall—they fell together, the prisoner on top—I said, "You brute; let the man alone when he is on the ground"—he was on the top of him, and I saw when I got across the road that he had got hold of his neck handkerchief—the prisoner's other hand was down over the prosecutor's shoulder, and near something bright on the prosecutor's person near his waistcoat pocket—I did not see what it was; it looked like a watch-chain—I threw my jug of beer over the prisoner—the last witness went off to the gentleman from the public-house, and the prisoner got up and went to the corner of the public-house—I and the last witness sent for a constable.
Cross-examined. You pushed him before he fell.
THOMAS JAMES (Detective Sergeant). About half-past eleven on 13th February, in consequence of a communication the prosecutor made me, I went to a lodging-house and arrested the prisoner—I told him he would be charged with assaulting Thomas Laws outside the Rose, with intent to rob him—he said, "We were all drinking together, I never touched him; I never did such a thing in my b—g puff"—he repeated that a number of times at the station—I should say he was about two-thirds drunk for him, and that is a good deal—the prosecutor was slightly under the influence of drink.
By the COURT. The prisoner denied the charge—I have known him five years—I know things against him.
The Prisoner in his Defence said they were drinking together, that the prosecutor wanted to go into another public-house; that he tried to pull him away, and in doing so they both tripped over the snow and fell.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for assault. No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. UNDERHILL Prosecuted, and MR. BLACKWELL Defended.
THOMAS CLOAK (Police Sergeant W. I arrested the prisoner on 25th February at Leigham Court Road, Streatham—I said, "I am going to take you into custody for feloniously marrying Matilda Johnson, your first wife Annie Maria Bynham being alive"—he said, "She is not my lawful wife; she told me so when she left me"—in reply to the charge at
the station he said, "She is not my lawful wife; I did not know whether she was dead or alive"—I produce these certificates which I have examined with the originals; they are correct. (One was the certificate of marriage of John Digby and Annie Bynham at St. George's Church, Southward on September 9th, 1864, and the other that of John Digby and Matilda Johnson, at the Registry Office, Lambeth, on 17th November, 1887.)
Cross-examined. The first wife is in Court to-day.
----JEAL I am a licensed shoeblack, living at 26, William Street, Great Suffolk Street, Borough—Annie Maria Bynham is my stepdaughter—I was at her marriage on 9th September, 1864—I signed the register—she is in Court to-day—about six years after the marriage the prisoner ill-treated her, and she had to leave him—since that I have very frequently seen the prisoner, I have never lost sight of where he lived—I talked to him about his wife; he would always ask me where and how she was.
Cross-examined No one raised the question as to whether it was a genuine marriage—I never heard Annie Maria Bynham question it—I do not know that she assigned as a reason for leaving him that it was not a marriage—I do not know that she went through the ceremony of marriage with Chaplain, or that she lived with him—she never lived in the same house with him, because he lived and died with his mother—I knew his family—after she had been in my house for some years I was obliged to move out, and she took a house on her own accord about 1872 or 1873—she and Chaplain were never reputed to be man and wife—I have never lost sight of the prisoner for more than twelve months at a time since 1864—I saw him passing along, and have frequently spoken to him during that time, and once since Christmas—I called on the prisoner in 1886—I did not tell him my stepdaughter had married again—I only called to ask him how he was, and so on—I told him Mr. Chap lain was dead; nothing else—while the prisoner lived at Brixton I was living in the Waterloo Road, and Bermondsey, and the Borough.
By the COURT. During the seven years previous to 1887 he was in London living at Brixton, and in a road on the Kennington Road—his first wife was living during part of that time at Bexley Heath, and the other part at Plumstead—between 1880 and 1887 he would always ask me how his wife Annie was.
JOSEPH BEWLAY I live at 54, Lefevre Road, North Bow, and am a surveyor, and the brother of Matilda Johnson—on 17th November, 1887, I was present at the Registry Office at Lambeth, and signed the register.
Cross-examined I never had any conversation with the prisoner about having been married before.
HARRIETT SPINKS I am the wife of Henry Spinks, and live at Bexley Heath—in October, 1886, I went to Cold Harbour Lane and saw the prisoner's first wife—afterwards I saw the prisoner a little higher up the street—the first wife was with me; I left her and the prisoner together—I stepped on one side while they had a conversation.
Cross-examined. I have known the woman nine or ten years—I knew her as Digby till 1885, and after that she went in the name of Chaplain—she married Mr. Chaplain, I know, on 1st January, 1885—I and my husband once called on the prisoner to ask him if he was the husband of Annie Maria Digby—I never took him a certificate of marriage, or any paper—he never told me he could not read—I believe my husband, who is not here, took the prisoner a paper; it was the certificate of his
marriage to Annie Maria—I did not also take a certificate of her marriage to Chaplain.
MATILDA JOHNSON . I am the prosecutrix—I live at 32, Geneva Road, Brixton—on 17th November, 1887, I married the prisoner; I was then a widow—his wife was dead I supposed—I thought Elizabeth Crump had been his wife—I was in receipt of a pension of 6s. a week, which I had to give up when I married him.
By the COURT. My married life was very unhappy; before I had been married a fortnight he three times took me by the arms and pushed me and tried to break my back—he drank—he left me on 6th March, 1886, the first time—he took his furniture away, not mine.
Cross-examined. My object is to get rid of him—I want to recover my pension, and not to be threatened—the night before he left me he said, "I will very soon do for you"—my life is in danger through him—I did not turn his daughter out of doors or quarrel with her; I was very fond of her.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I did not see her for fourteen years. I was informed last summer that she was dead. I heard that she was married to Chaplain at Plumstead Church."
GUILTY .— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
EDWARD WILLIAM SIMMONDS . I am a cabinet-maker, of 739, Wands worth Road—I employed the prisoner from the end of November to the end of January—I did not miss any tools till a policeman brought me some pawn-tickets—I went to the pawnbroker's and saw the articles, they were mine—this plane, hammer, pliers, scissors, and gimp (produced) are mine.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said that he took the tools, but meant to put them back.— GUILTY .** He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Surrey Sessions in March, 1887, having then been previously convicted. (Thirteen previous convictions were proved against him).— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
SARAH ANN ULWICK . My husband keeps a tobacconist's and sweetstuff shop at 353, St. James's Road, Bermondsey—on February 2nd, about 3 o'clock, the prisoner came in for 1/2-oz. of tobacco, price 2d.—he put down a coin, and said, "Can you give me change for a half-crown?"—
I put it in my pocket and put down a florin and fourpence, which he took up—I had no other money in my pocket—I took the coin out again and put it between my teeth, and it cricked; it was soft—I said, "This is a bad half-crown"—he said nothing, but ran away and down the street—I went out and called, "Stop him"—the people in the street ran after him, and a constable brought him back—I charged him, and he said he would give me the good money back—I gave the coin to the constable—this is it.
EDWIN EAST (Policeman 364). On February 2nd I was called to Rotherhithe New Road, and saw the prisoner in a garden, surrounded by a crowd—the last witness produced the half-crown—I examined it, and found it was a florin—I told the prisoner I should take him in custody; he said, "All right"—I took him to the shop—he said that he had changed it, and was very sorry—on the way to the station he said he received it over the bar of a public-house in Walworth Road, but did not know the house—I found on him three half-crowns, three florins, and fivepence-halfpenny, all good, and two pawn-tickets.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Detective Officer L. On 28th January I stopped the prisoner in Draper Street, Newington Butts, and asked what he had about him—he said, "I have nothing"—I said, "Well, I must see," and searched him, and found in his trousers pocket 31s. in good silver—I took off his hat, and these two bad half-crowns fell out from under the leather band; one of them has a piece broken off the edge—I said, "How do you account for these coins?"—he said, "I got them from a man in Brittain's in Newington Butts, but the name of the man I don't know"—I knew him previously—he gave his name Caleb Ram at the station, and was allowed to go.
GEORGE LAINCHBURY (Police Sergeant. On February 2nd I was at the police-station, and saw the prisoner in one of the cells; he said, "My name is Charles Ram, I live at 70, Crampton Street, Newington Butts, with my father"—I went to that address, and returned and told him I had seen his father, and then asked him to give me his correct address—he said, "I am living with a friend, and I do not intend to get anybody else into trouble; I decline to tell you."
Cross-examined. I told the Magistrate that if he would remand you for a week I could find four or five more cases against you, but the people refused to identify you—you did not tell me you took the coins in change for a half-sovereign.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN LENNIE RAM . I am the prisoner's father—I live at 70, Cramp ton Street, Newington Butts—on the day before he was taken in custody he came to me, and I gave him the ticket of a watch (which has been taken from him and not mentioned) and a half-sovereign and two half crowns to get the watch out of pawn for ten shillings, and a half-crown to buy himself a new shirt—he was to bring me the rest of the change on Saturday, but a constable came and said that he was in custody—I have paid him from 35s. to £2 a week as a labourer; £2 4s. 9d. was the last I paid him—he has saved £7 in the bank—he has lived at home, and has been a very steady boy.
Cross-examined. I employed him as a labourer—I am a decorator and
painter—he sometimes got 1s. an hour, sometimes 10d.—I took on the job £3 3s. 9d. to £3 5s.—I have been paying him £2 4s. 9d. for eleven weeks—the last time was the week before Christmas—I did not pay him out of my own money, it was a £1,500 job at Mr. Davis's—I have nine teen painters there—I have never used the name of Mitchell—the prisoner's name is Caleb Ram—he gave his name as Mitchell not to disgrace me—he was last at home on the Sunday before, but I do not know where he was lodging.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of larceny at the Surrey Sessions on March 5th, 1888, having then been previously convicted.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
The Court commended McCarthy's conduct.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
Cross-examined. I know nothing of these people, and never saw them after a week after the marriage—I do not know that he has had two years' hard labour.
JAMES FLOWER GRIMES . I live at 8, Osborn Street, Whitechapel—previous to October, 1882, the prisoner was living as housekeeper to my father, and afterwards took a public-house at Chelmsford, and my father sometimes came down accompanied by the prisoner, and afterwards went through the ceremony of marriage with her at the parish church, Chelmsford—she described herself as a widow; this is the certificate—I lived with her about two years—we then separated, and I allowed her 10s. a week as long as I could, and afterwards 5s. for some months—I did not give her anything because I had not got it; but afterwards I allowed her 7s. 6d.—she summoned me to Greenwich Police-court, but it was dismissed without calling on me for my defence—in consequence of that I made inquiries about her antecedents—I was 22 and she was about 43.
Cross-examined. I am not engaged again yet; I have seen a young woman, and I should like to see this marriage annulled—I was a rival with my father for the prisoner's hand, and I carried off the prize—my father is not finding the money to pay these expenses—he is not here—he is a pewterer.
Re-examined. I am living with my father now—I discontinued my allowance to the prisoner by my solicitor's advice.
FREDERICK BARTON (Detective Officer P. I took the prisoner on 30th January; I told her it was for bigamy—she said, "Bigamy? who is it that is doing this, Mr. Filtness or Mr. Grimes?"—I said, "The information is laid by a Mr. Grimes"—she said, "I separated from my second husband under a private divorce; he is now living at Brighton, but I
have not seen him for a number of years, and from what he said I thought I was free; Mr. Grimes has been allowing me 7s. 6d. a week for the last four or five years, and that is all I have had to live on"—I examined these certificates with the originals; they are correct. (The prisoner was described as a widow in both certificates.
Cross-examined. I made inquiries and found that her first husband had taken her to Mr. Brandreth, a solicitor's office at Brighton, and had gone through several documents with her, and informed her that the marriage was annulled—I found that a legal divorce was pending between the prisoner and Filtness, but faults were found on both sides, and the action was withdrawn—I did not find that her husband told her that those proceedings finished the marriage—I did not go to the Probate Registry and search the books—I did not find that Mr. Brandreth was a solicitor, or that he was struck off the rolls for his conduct.
Cross-examined. She did not tell me she had been divorced; she said it was a private settlement—I cannot recollect that she told me he was alive, but I knew by her conversation that he was—she said he would never interfere with her if she married again.
Re-examined. She received letters there, and they were sometimes from her daughter in Germany—she showed me a photograph which she said was that of her husband at Brighton—I have seen the person, only he is greyer; it is Mr. Filtness—he called at my house during the time she was housekeeper to old Mr. Grimes.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 8TH, 1889.