CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TENTH SESSION, HELD JULY 29TH, 1889.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, July 29th, 1889, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. JAMES WHITEHEAD, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir ALFRED WILLS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., Alderman of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., Recorder of the City; DAVID EVANS , Esq., STUART KNILL , Esq., GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., JOSEPH RENALS, Esq., WALTER HY. WILKIN, Esq., GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., HORATIO DAVIES , Esq., and JOHN VOCE MOORE, 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. TENTH 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, July 29th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. TORR Prosecuted.
ALFRED NOTCOT . I am a commercial traveller, living at 83, Finsbury Park Road—the prisoner boarded and lodged with us from June 5th to the day he was arrested, 26th June, I believe—on the day he was arrested Sergeant Lythel spoke to me—my son's overcoat had been missed from about 6th June, just after the prisoner came to lodge with us—on more than one occasion my son asked the prisoner what he had done with the coat, and the prisoner said, "I left it at Messrs. Gardiner's, Upper Street, Islington; I nave bought a suit of clothes, and it will be returned with the suit of clothes that I have bought there; I asked your wife whether I might take it as it was likely to be a wet day"—nothing came from Gardiner's—he expressed his surprise the things had not arrived—the coat was not returned—I have since seen it at the pawnbroker's—it was worth about £2, I should think.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The coat was missed about the 6th or 8th, I believe; my wife told me on one of those days that she had lent you the coat—she lent it on the distinct understanding that it was to be returned—this pawn-ticket relates to the coat—you did not tell me you had pawned it; you told me it was at Gardiner's.
LOUIS NAUMANN . I am assistant to Mr. Pockett, pawnbroker, 116, City Road—this pawn-ticket relates to this overcoat, pawned on 15th June by the prisoner, who gave the name of James Kirkby—Mr. Notcot has identified it as his son's property—we took it for granted the coat was his own.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Detective). I saw the prisoner in custody at Moor Lane station on 24th June—another officer found this ticket on him in my presence—he was charged on a warrant issued from Guildhall about the 16th, relating to other matters—he said nothing about the overcoat.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said the coat was lent to him; that he left it at Gardiner's and then pawned it, intending to redeem it.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in August, 1887. There were other indictments for similar offences against the Prisoner,— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
604. WILLIAM HENRY LAWS (25) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a post letter containing four postal orders, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. And
605. WILLIAM OLIVER (20) , to two indictments for stealing post parcels containing two florins, one shilling, and a purse, and a gold watch, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office.— Five Years' Penal Servitude on each indictment, the two sentences to run concurrently. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday,July 29th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
EMILY COKER PLEADED GUILTY (she received a good character).— Judgment respited. Mr. WILKINSON offered no evidence against
ELLEN COKER.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
EUTRECHIA ROOTS . I live in Artillery Road, Westminster—on Sunday, 14th July, I was out selling newspapers—the prisoner asked me for a Lloyd's paper, and gave me a shilling; the price was 1d.—I had not got change, and went to Mr. Harris, the greengrocer's shop—he was standing outside, and I asked him to change the shilling; the prisoner stood about a foot off—he said it was bad, and said, "Who gave you this shilling?"—I said, "This lady!" and then said to her, "You are the person who gave my father a shilling"—Mr. Harris gave her in custody.
HENRY HARRIS . I am a greengrocer, of 36, Strutton Ground—on July 13th I was standing at my shop door, and the little girl came up to me and tendered me a shilling—I saw that it was bad and caught hold of the prisoner, who was about 3 feet off, and said, "I want you; it is the second attempt"—she made no answer, and I gave her in charge with the shilling—this is it—she had been to my shop on the evening of July 5th for half-a pound of cherries, price 2d., and gave my father a bad shilling—he
handed it to me and said, "Your sight is better than mine, look at that shilling"—I said, "It is bad"—I said to the prisoner, "This is bad; have you any more?"—she said nothing, but took out her purse and let me look in it—I said, "Where did you get it?"—she said, "I took a man home with me in the afternoon, and he gave it to me in my room"—she paid me with the good shilling which she had in her purse—I put the other coin in a rather slow fire two or three days afterwards, and it melted and ran through—I recognised the prisoner again on the 14th, when the girl offered me the shilling—I have seen her in the shop for two years.
SARAH ANWYL . My husband keeps a provision shop at 4, Greycoat Place, Westminster—on 11th July, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the day, prisoner came in and asked for four eggs for 3d., and gave me a bad shilling—I held it up and said, "Have you got any more like this?"—she said, "No"—I said, "I have been looking out for somebody who has been passing them on my daughter"—she said that she got it in the Park—I asked her if she had any more; she said she had a good shilling in her purse, which she gave me, and I gave her 9d. change—I broke the bad shilling, these are the pieces (produced), and she left the shop—the prisoner is the woman.
THOMAS ELLIOTT (Policeman A R 51). I was called—Mr. Harris was holding the prisoner, and said, "I give this woman in custody for uttering a bad shilling, "giving me the shilling; she made no reply—on the 17th Mrs. Anwyl gave me these broken pieces—two shillings, a sixpence, and a farthing were produced by the female searcher, who said she found them on the prisoner.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said, "Come along"—there was a great crowd, and I got you away as quick as possible; it is a low neighbourhood.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to H. M. Mint—this shilling is counterfeit, and so are these fragments, but I cannot say whether they are from the same mould—the money in the prisoner's purse was good—a coin melting in a low fire is evidence of its being counterfeit.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I got them in the Park; I have my living to get; I have to keep myself and my husband by prostitution. "
GUILTY .— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
GEORGE FREDERICK BATCHELOR . I am an attendant at the Hackney Union Infirmary—the prisoner was a patient there on 28th June—it is the practice to examine the clothes of persons ordered to the infirmary, and I found in the prisoner's trousers pocket 8s. 5 1/2 d. in good money and eight bad shillings and four bad threepenny-pieces, all in a tin box in his trousers pocket, good and bad together—I said, "Do you know these are counterfeit coins?"—he said, "Yes, I found them in Victoria Park," and later on he said, "I took them for change in Kingsland Road"—I handed them to Mr. Jeffrey.
asked him if they were his; he said he had had them by him for some time—I communicated with the police—I handed all the money to the police.
JAMES CHICKLEDAY . On 29th June I was a patient at the Hackney Union Infirmary, and saw Mr. Batchelor trying some money—next day I saw the prisoner on his bed playing with a chain with a threepenny bit attached to it—I said, "This threepenny bit is bad"—he said, "Yes, I know it is"—I said, "Have you passed any bad money?"—he said, "Yes, mostly small money, because the large money is so difficult to get rid of"—I said, "Where do you mostly pass it?"—he said, "In Long Acre"—he said he gave 1s. 10d. for a lot of them—here is a hole through the one where it was attached to his chain—there was a piece of skin among his things—I asked him what it was for—he said it was to brighten the coins with—we searched the bed, but could not find the skin; he would not let me have it, but he let me have the box.
JAMES MONK . On 29th June I was an inmate of Hackney Union Infirmary, and was with Chickleday by the prisoner's bed, and saw him playing with a watch-chain with a threepenny-piece attached to the end of it—I asked him if it was good; he said, "No; it is one I have left out of four; I changed three of them in Long Acre, as they are much easier to change than large money; I can buy them at 1d. each"—I picked a piece of skin out of the tin and said, "What is this?"—he said, "It is what they brighten up the silver with."
JAMES FORD (Policeman). I took the prisoner in the infirmary on 29th June, and Jeffrey handed me two half-crowns, three shillings, and 5 1/2 d. in bronze, all good money, and eight counterfeit shillings and four counterfeit threepenny-pieces—he said, "I found the coins in Cambridge Heath Road; I knew they were bad; I have not tried to dispose of them"—I was told he was hard of hearing, and I spoke loud—I took him to the station, where he was charged, and made a similar statement—I received these coins from Jeffrey.
Prisoner's Defence. I knew they were bad, and they took them from me. I have been walking the streets ever since Christmas, and managed to get enough for a night's lodging about once a month.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 30th, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
610. GEORGE FREDERICK SALTWELL PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an order for £398 13s. 9d., with intent to defraud. Also to stealing a cheque of Arthur O'Hagan, his master.— Judgment respited. And.
MR. AUSTIN METCALFE Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL TAYLOR Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PAUL TAYLOR Prosecuted.
HENRY PHILLIPS (Policeman T 398). On the 9th June, about 2 in the morning, I was with two others in a boat on duty, patrolling the river between Kingston Bridge and Teddington Lock—we got on me lawn of Mr. Tatham at Hampton Wick—I saw the prisoner on the lawn advancing towards me—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "I have lost my way"—he ran across the lawn—I followed him, and called on the other constables, Bowling and Seymour, to follow, Seymour blowing his whistle—half-way across the lawn the prisoner fell down, I fell down also—he got up again, and ran round the house, got over the stable gates into the main road—in getting over I caught hold of his leg, but failed to hold him—he got into the road and went on towards Hampton Wick for about 200 yards, and then turned into the gates of a gentleman's house—he then jumped over another fence into some allotment grounds—I followed close behind him, and secured him—the other constables came up and assisted me—he was taken to the station and charged as a suspected person.
EDWIN BOWLING (Policeman T 154). I was with the other constables—I saw the prisoner on the lawn—he ran away, and we followed him, and arrested him in the allotment grounds—I saw him put his hand towards his pocket—I asked him to give me the revolver—he said, "I have no revolver"—I took out of his pocket these two knives, and asked him what made him run—he said, "Enough to make one run, with three or four after me"—he was wearing this hat at the time—the name of Bowen is inside it.
GEORGE SEYMOUR (Policeman T 350). I was with the other officers—I saw the prisoner on the lawn; we chased him—I searched him at the station, and found on him, among other things, these two boxes of matches, this pocket knife, a pouch containing tobacco, a reel of cotton, and this candle, secreted in his right tail-coat pocket, and this hat on his head.
LOUIS GORDON RYLANDS . I am a gentleman, living at Vale House, Strawberry Vale, Twickenham—my grounds slope down to the river—about half-past two in the morning of 21st May I was awoke by a noise; I listened for some time, and eventually went downstairs, accompanied by my wife and the cook—I found in the dining-room the sideboard cupboards all taken out, and the plate laid on the top—I missed a cash-box containing about £26, consisting of five £5 notes and a few coins—that cash-box was eventually found in the summerhouse at the end of the lawn; it had been forced open, and the money gone—I also missed a small leather box containing keys, that was always kept on the side board; that was found in the garden concealed behind a flower-pot—I also missed a grey felt hat from the sideboard, and this brown hat was left in its place; the grey hat was afterwards found on the prisoner; I identified it after his capture at Teddington Police-station—I identify it by the colour and tie colour of the band; it is absolutely identical with mine, besides there had been a name printed in gilt, and there are marks where the letters have been erased—Bowen was one name and Flexible another—Bowen was the name of the shopkeeper where I bought it—I have no doubt whatever that it is my hat.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I cannot say what the letters were that are not here now—I have another hat which also contains the word "Flexible."
LILLY BURDEN . I am housemaid in Mr. Rylands's service—on the morning of 21st May I was awoke by a noise and hearing Mr. Rylands whistle—I went on the landing and waited there—I did not go down—the night before I saw this hat on the dining-room table, and I laid it on the sideboard—I fastened up the house safely the night before—I have frequently seen this hat, and have no doubt about it—I recognise it by the colour and the marks on it.
The Prisoner, in his defence, denied all knowledge of the robbery, and stated that he found the hat on the banks of the Thames, and that the brown hat left in the house was too large for him, and did not belong to him.
NOT GUILTY .
614. GEORGE MARTIN (14) and LILIAN MARTIN , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for £5, with intent to defraud. GEORGE MARTIN PLEADED GUILTY also to another indictment for a like offence.— Discharged on Recognisances. No evidence was offered against Lilian Martin.
615. ERNEST JOHN WRIGHT (56), alias W. S. SHIPLEY , Unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences from Henry Wooley Lessingham and Frederick Thomas Shoolbred, with intent to defraud. Other Counts, for obtaining and incurring a debt and liability.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
MR. GILL applied to quash the indictment upon the ground that thirteen offences were charged in each of two Counts, which was calculated to embarrass the prisoner in his defence. MR. GRAIN contended that as it was a case where false pretences had been once made, in consequence of which goods were obtained subsequently on different dates, the offence was complete at one and the same time, and all goods so obtained could be charged in one Count. MR. GILL pointed out that the offence was not complete till the goods were obtained. THE RECORDER ruled that the prisoner should be tried on the first and second Counts.
HENRY WOOLEY LESSINGHAM . I am head of the correspondence department at Messrs. Shoolbred's—letters are opened in the morning by ledger clerks, then passed to me to distribute in the different departments—I read letters, and if in my opinion the orders should be executed I mark the letters for execution, and they are sent to the different departments—this letter of 22nd April came into my hand in the course of post on 23rd April (It was dated from Ingrave, Brentwood: and ordered a yard of lining material, notepaper and envelopes, and other goods to be sent to the Rev. J. Wright, and stated that he had been recommended by an old customer of Messrs Shoolbred, Rev. W. S. Shipley)—I marked that letter for execution after reading it—I recognised the name of Shipley as that of a customer whom we had known previously—I executed the order on account of his giving as recommendation a customer against whom I knew nothing—I received this post-card on 1st May—(This was dated from Ingrave, and gave the width of a bodice collar which was omitted from that day's letter)—I had prior to that received the letter which is referred to—I received this letter of May 4th—(This was dated from Ingrave, and referred to certain articles, some of which were returned, others retained, and others required)—the orders given
were marked for execution and executed—(MR. GRAIN put in other letters from the prisoner referring to other goods)—I was never informed who Mr. Shipley was—I never saw the prisoner.
Cross-examined. For the purpose of this case I was Messrs. Shoolbred and Co.—no other person's mind was operated on—I just mark the letters—we have 2,000 or 3,000 letters every morning—about 1,500 or 2,000 pass before me—I have not a nice appreciation of each letter—the amount of the order was about 3s.—I should not consider it as particularly as I should a large one—I remembered the name of Shipley as that of a person against whom I knew nothing, so I supplied these three shillings' worth of goods—we cannot number our London customers—the whole value of the articles supplied to the prisoner was 15s. or 16s.; I think they were articles of small value; a good many of them were for women's and children's dress—after the first 3s. order I knew I had signed an order, and I signed others—I knew the name again when I saw it—I made no inquiry as to Shipley till the goods had been supplied and began to mount up—I am the only person to whom the false pretences were made, and no other persons belonging to the firm had the matter before them—the goods would be supplied on my mark, which was the only thing that would operate on their minds.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am one of the principal clerks in the counting-house of Shoolbred and Co.—I received this letter of 1st October, 1886—(This, from the Rev. W. S. Shipley, asked for estimates of linen, knives, forks, spoons, and other goods, on hire or on purchase, and stated that the goods were wanted for a furnished country house, taken for two years; that if purchased they would he paid for by quarterly instalments; that good references could he given, and that Mr. Shipley had had dealings with Messrs. Shoolbred for several years about four years previously, and which had been fully paid for)—we did not carry out that order—on 4th June this year some correspondence was put before me, and in consequence I caused this letter to be written to Rev. J. Wright, Ingrave—(This stated that as they did not appear to have had his previous patronage, they should prefer him to remit for the goods already supplied, and to provide them with an introduction in future business; that he had referred previously to Mr. Shipley, but had not given his address)—I received this letter of 5th June in reply—(This stated that in future Mr. Wright would prefer to pay his account at the end of each month; that he believed Mr. Shipley was travelling on the Continent with private pupils; that he had sent part of their price list to a clergyman who was furnishing a rectory)—I received another long letter on 7th June—on 14th I went down with Mr. Harrison, a salesman, to Ingrave, Brentwood, Essex—the prisoner was living at the post office kept by Mrs. Wood—I knocked at the door, the prisoner opened it—I said to him, "The Rev. Mr. Wright?"—he said, "Yes; step in"—I and Mr. Harrison went in—I said, "I have come with regard to a letter of yours of 5th June, and wish to draw your attention to certain items for which we have not given you credit"—he said, "Thank you; was it not a pity to come so far when a letter would have done?"—I replied I had not merely come on that business; that he had been kind enough to give us a further order for a coat and vest, which I had taken the liberty of bringing down with me in order to try on—he said, "Have you them with you? then if you will allow me I will take them upstairs and try them on"—he took them out of the room, came back with them on, and I suggested certain alterations
—I produced an account I had taken with me, containing the full items—I showed it to him, and I said that if he would be kind enough to go through the account by the items, I should be able, as I had his letters with me, to examine with him any article or item to which he would like to draw my attention—I had several letters with me which have been read to-day—I produced several of them as he went through the account, referring to items and taking exception to them—in the course of conversation he said, "I was recommended to your house by Mr. Shipley, who told me he had done large business with your house, and spent a great deal of money there, and spoke very well of your house, and said 'You can get everything there'"—I said, "Yes; in one of your letters I noticed you referred to Mr. Shipley, but we were unable to take any notice of the reference because you did not give his address"—he said, "No; for the reason I gave you, that I don't know the gentleman's address; I believe him to be travelling on the Continent with two pupils "; and he said he did not know whether he would have the privilege of giving his address, for it was only in an incidental conversation it had arisen—the amount of the invoice is £16 9s. 6d.—no portion of it has ever been paid.
Cross-examined. I did not ask directly for it—I said, "What do you propose to do with regard to it? Will you give me the amount now?"—he said, "No; I cannot give you the amount now; I propose paying my bills monthly, as I said in my letter"—I suppose my politeness was sarcasm.
JAMES HARRISON . I am a salesman in the dress department of Messrs. Shoolbred and Co.—between two and three years ago I was in the service of Messrs. Hellas and Co., of Reading—during that time we had a customer of the name of Rev. W. S. Shipley, whom we supplied with goods—the prisoner is he—I went with Mr. Taylor on 4th June to Ingrave, and saw him, and I heard all that then took place.
MRS. WOODS. I keep the post office at Ingrave—the prisoner took a sitting-room and bedroom furnished on my ground floor in January at 7s. 6d. a week—he gave the name of the Rev. J. Wright—he had his wife and two children there—he remained till he was arrested on a warrant.
BENJAMIN MORGAN (Detective Sergeant D). I received a warrant from Bow Street for the prisoner's arrest; and about six o'clock on the 8th June I took him into custody, at the post office, Ingrave—I read the warrant to him; he made no reply—I took him to the Tottenham Court Road Police-station, where he was charged on the warrant; he made no reply—as we were walking into Brentwood from Ingrave (they are three miles apart) with another officer, the prisoner said, "I have had several transactions with Messrs. Shoolbred in years past when I was in better circumstances, and I wonder they did not recollect the handwriting of the letters"—I said to him, "Well, I don't know, but I believe this case came about in that way; that one of the ledger clerks noticed a similarity in the handwriting and drew attention to it"—the prisoner said, "Oh, I did not attempt to disguise my handwriting"—I said, "No; I don't suggest you did"—the prisoner said, "No; there was no attempt to disguise"—in the course of other conversation the prisoner said, "Shool-red's people called on me recently and brought a coat and vest which I fitted on; they went through the account with me, and asked me if I
could give them a cheque now; I said, 'No; but I will pay so much a month'; they asked if they might leave the coat and vest, and I said, 'No, not until I have paid this account'; when I obtained the goods from Shoolbred's, I had no intention to defraud, and I believe that if I had had the money to pay when they called, these proceedings would not have been taken. I can see where I have done wrong; it was writing in the name of Wright, and stating that I had been recommended by Mr. Shipley"—when we were walking into Brentwood, Superintendent Dobson asked him some questions, and prisoner said, "I must be careful what I tell you, as it might be used in evidence against me"—I did not say to him, "What you say here does not make any difference," nor did I hear the other man say it—he said something about the lady he was living with—I found some letters on him, and a number of advertisements.
Cross-examined. I did not mention this conversation at the Police-court on 19th June—I was not fully examined—Mr. Humphreys conducted the prosecution, and I then only gave evidence to justify a remand.
GUILTY on first and second Counts. He then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of obtaining goods by false pretences at Reading in January, 1887. Two Days' on the first, and Nine Months' Hard Labour on the second Count.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 30th, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
616. AMHERST RICHARD RENTON (42) , PLEADED GUILTY ** to unlawfully obtaining goods from John Grainger, after a conviction at Southampton in July, 1885; also to stealing a cheque-book, the property of Mark Holland; also to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for £4 4s. and £1 10s., with intent to defraud.— Six Years' Penal Servitude. And
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 31st, 1889.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. WARBURTON,for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted.
JAMES WELCH . I am in charge of a telegraph office belonging to the Midland Railway Company, near Child's Hill Station, Hendon—about three o'clock in the morning of 12th July William Leys, who was in the service of the company, brought the prisoner to my office—he left the prisoner there and went out—in about three minutes the prisoner took a pistol from his left waistcoat pocket—I asked him if it was loaded, and
he immediately fired at me—I saw he could not work the second chamber, and I saw my chance and escaped out of the office—he was seven or eight feet from me when he fired—he missed me—I had not gone above fifteen or sixteen feet when I heard a second report; again I was missed—the first barrel was loaded with a bullet—I heard it strike the side of the office and then enter the ceiling—it fell, and was picked up after wards.
WILLIAM LEYS (Midland Railway Policeman). About three in the morning of 12th July I was on duty at the Brent Siding, close to Child's Hill Station—I saw the prisoner about thirty yards off running in the direction of a shunting engine that was at work—I ran and got between him and the engine, shouted to him, and prevented him from getting to it—he was about two yards from the engine when I intercepted him—the engine was moving at the time—he turned and ran away—I ran after him, and caught him, and asked him what he was doing on the railway—he made no reply, but again moved towards where the engine was—I said, "There is no thoroughfare that way"—he said he knew his way, and wanted to go down among the engines—I said, "You must come this way, along with me;" and after a struggle I got him to the telegraph office—I took his name and address, "Philip Percy Spriggs, 5, Featherstone Buildings, Holborn"—I asked what he was; he said he was a solicitor's clerk, to Bannister, Williams and Ram, of John Street, Bedford Row—I did not observe anything peculiar in his demeanour—I asked him what account he had to give for being on the railway—he made no reply—I quietly told the clerk to keep an eye upon him, at the same time telling the prisoner to sit down to have a rest—when I saw him trying to get to the engine I thought he was trying to commit suicide—I left the prisoner in the telegraph office, and when I had got about seven or eight yards away I heard a report of firearms—I turned round and saw Welch running out at the door; I saw smoke, and I heard the report of another shot—the prisoner was not pursuing Welch, he was sitting down in the office when he fired the second shot—I ran to the office door—the prisoner had then shut the door—I looked in at the window, and saw him sitting in front of the door with the revolver in both hands, pointing it directly at the door—I went towards him, sprang upon him, and seized the revolver by the muzzle; he had hold of the back—he shouted to me to let go the revolver or he would shoot me, and I shouted to him to let it go—he struggled hard, and tried to turn the revolver towards me—I had great difficulty in holding it down—he fired, and the bullet went right between my legs through the flooring—during the struggle he got the trigger up again—I called for assistance, and Thurlow came and took the revolver from him; this is it—two spent bullets were afterwards found, one on the floor, the other was underneath the flooring—he was searched at the station—this strap was found round his body—five cartridges were found loose in his pocket; they fit the revolver—I fired two shots out of the revolver into the fields—while doing that he pulled this large sheath knife out of his pocket, and Thurlow knocked it out of his hand before he could use it; his initials are on it—I then saw him put his hand into his outside coat pocket—I seized his hand, and found this razor in his pocket.
Prisoner. When did the shot go off? Witness. During the struggle in trying to get the revolver from you.
THOMAS DONALDSON (Police Sergeant on the Midland Railway). I was called by Leys to the telegraph office, and found the prisoner there—I asked him his name; he gave it—I said, "Are you aware what you have been doing?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you know that?" (the revolver)—he said, "Yes; it is mine; I bought it in High Holborn"—I said, "What did you intend doing with it?"—he said, "I intended to shoot somebody, and to shoot myself afterwards; but I did not intend to shoot you"—I said, "Do you know the knife?"—he said, "Yes; that is mine, I bought it"—I said, "Do you know these initials on it?"—he said, "Yes; they are my initials"—I said, "What did you intend to do with this if the revolver did not act?"—he said, "I intended using it"—I showed him the razor, and asked if he knew that—he said, "There's nothing in that; that is no good at all"—I said, "I shall hand you in charge to the police"—he said, "You may as well give me some poison and have done with it at once"—I handed him over to the constable—he was perfectly sober.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am medical officer of Holloway Prison—the prisoner came there on the afternoon of 12th July—I saw him on the morning of the 13th—I examined him frequently as to his mental condition—he is insane—he was undoubtedly insane on the 12th, and had been for some time—he was intensely dejected, as he is now—he is subject to delusions, that people are following him about to put him away, and persisted in it while in prison—he is a sober man—it has arisen from onanism.
GUILTY of the act, but insane at the time. To be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted. The details of this case are unfit for publication. GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted. GUILTY of the attempt. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. LAWLESS Defended.
GEORGE GREGORY (Policeman A 72). On Wednesday, 17th July, about five minutes past one in the day, I was on duty on the Victoria Embankment—my attention was attracted by hearing something fall over the parapet into the river—I then saw the prisoner take a child from her side and throw it into the river; with that she clambered on to the parapet and threw herself into the water—this happened about fifteen or twenty yards from where I was standing—I at once blew my whistle and rushed to the pier—I saw the bodies of the mother and the two children floating towards the pier—I called for assistance; and with a hook I got the youngest child, aged about two and a half years, out first, and then the eldest one, about eight, and the pier-master rescued the
woman—she was unconscious—they were all three taken to the Westminster Hospital—there were two other children with the prisoner; they were left on the embankment; they were about five and seven.
Cross-examined. Douglas helped in getting the woman out of the water—there were people about.
HENRY DOUGLAS . I am pier-master at Westminster Pier—on 17th July, about one in the day, I noticed a woman fall from the parapet into the river—there was a storm at the time, with thunder and lightning—I got a boat-hook, and succeeding in getting the skirt of her dress, and got her out, and I saw the two children taken out—when I got the woman up into the waiting-room she put her hand to her head, and said, "My poor head!"—the storm had been going on for about a quarter of an hour.
ARTHUR HUNT . I am senior house-surgeon at Westminster Hospital—on 17th July between one and half-past the prisoner and her two children were brought there—she was is a semi-unconscious state—the children were very wet; beyond that they were pretty lively; they recovered immediately—the prisoner did not answer my questions for at least six or seven hours, and she was not herself for at least thirty-six hours—she appeared very depressed, and complained greatly of her head—she remembered nothing about the matter—she told me she had gone out that morning to get some dinner for her four children, and that she heard a clap of thunder, and then all was dark, and she remembered no more—her manner appeared very strange; she remained under my observation until the following Friday week—she said she had suffered frequently from very severe headaches after having had rheumatic fever several years ago—she seemed a very affectionate mother—I thought from her manner and her statements that she was not accountable for her actions—I don't think she was conscious of what she was doing at the time.
Cross-examined. She was in a very delicate condition of health—she is better, and is now perfectly sane—she was on affectionate terms with her husband; we found a letter which proved that—I believe she had had four attacks of rheumatic fever.
By the COURT. I think the nursing of her last child longer than she ought to have done had caused a disturbance of the milk, which might have caused cerebral disturbance—I do not see any reason for a recurrence of it.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am the medical officer of Holloway Prison—the prisoner came in there on the night of 26th June—I saw her on the morning of 28th, the day before yesterday—I have had three long interviews with her, with a view of forming an opinion on her state—she said she was subject to fits, apparently of an epileptic character, up to the time when she was about fifteen; that they then ceased until about three months ago, when she was seized with a fit in the kitchen, in which she lost consciousness, and in which her underlip was bitten, which rather tends to show that it was an epileptic attack—she said that for the last three months she had been extremely depressed, with constant severe headaches, and a feeling as if she could not do the work she ought to do about her house and home—she is in a weak, debilitated state, in my opinion aggravated by prolonged suckling—she said she was very frightened at the thunderstorm that was taking place, and that she let the baby drop and fell down after it, and remembered nothing more—I certainly think, from my examination of her, that she was irresponsible
for her actions at the time; I should call it the insanity of lactation—I do not think it would recur, especially if she does not suckle any more—the youngest child was with her, and it is with her now—she seems a most devoted mother—she is now perfectly sane; she only requires care and treatment.
Cross-examined. I think the oversuckling produced the insanity—the thunder and the electricity in the air would affect a woman in her condition.
GEORGE GREGORY (Re-examined by the COURT). It was the smallest child who first fell into the water—she took the second child from her right side and threw it into the water over the parapet, and threw herself after—the parapet is about three feet six inches high; she put her hands over and men threw her legs—Q. You seem to have said before the Magistrate, "I saw her take the child from her side, and with it she climbed on to the parapet. "A. "She leaned over when she threw it, she did not stand upon the parapet"—I saw her clamber up with the child and let it fall, and then throw her legs over—she took the child up in her arms, threw it over, and then fell over after it.
SARAH BROWN . I live in Coburg Road, Old Kent Road—the prisoner is my daughter-in-law—I was living in the same house with her—she has been married eight years, and has four children—she lives on most affectionate terms with her husband—she has always been an affectionate and careful mother in every way—I was ill at this time—the baby was born last November—since then she has complained of great weakness, and also of pains in her head—two or three days before this happened she complained of her head being very bad, and of nasty giddy feelings, and she looked very ill—in January or February last she lost consciousness for a little time—I thought it was a kind of hysterical fit—when she became conscious she said she thought she had drowned her baby; it was quite right in its cradle—she screamed and said, "Oh, my baby! where is my baby?"—she continued to suckle the child up to within a few days before this.
The Jury considered that the occurrence might have been accidental, and found the prisoner
NOT GUILTY on this indictment; and also on two others, one relating to the other child, and the other for attempting to drown herself.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 31st, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
623. WILLIAM WIGAN (64) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences a large quantity of books, after a conviction of a like offence at Bristol on 6th February, 1883.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. VINCENT Prosecuted, and MR. OVEREND Defended.
JOHN ERLAND WILLIAM SOMERVILLE . I am a pensioner from the Royal Artillery, and live at 77, Westdon Road, Stratford—I left the Army on 24th January, 1889—I had a little over £40—at the beginning of this year
I was looking out for employment, and saw an advertisement, in consequence of which I sent in an application to see the advertiser, and received the letter (Dated February 21st, from the National Traders' Association; Manager, B. T. Kemp, asking the witness to call on him between 11 and 11. 30)—on February 23rd I received the letter (From B. T. Kemp, Croydon, regretting that he had not been at his office, and making an appointment for 9. 30 or 10 on Monday morning)—on the 25th I received this letter, "Dr. Sir, you can enter into my service forthwith as my clerk and companion, at a salary of £56 per annum, payable in weekly or fortnightly instalments, &c., B. T, KEMP."—I went into his service, and on the 25th February I paid him £20—he said he had a ledger in which the names of all the subscribers to the association were, and about £50 worth of circulars—he did not say a word about the probability of his being bankrupt—I knew nothing about a solicitor being engaged in the business—I never saw any money collected—I paid him £20 more on March 9th, believing it to be a bond fide business—I signed this document at Croydon, which I believed to be an agreement (This purported to he a mortgage of the prisoner's business to the witness)—subsequently to the bankruptcy I wrote this letter to the Official Receiver, at the prisoner's dictation:—"London, 13th March. Dear Sir,—I beg to inform you that B. Kemp mortgaged his business to me. The securities I hold are the books, papers, and receipts till I am repaid, together with the expenses I am put to"—I did not understand when I entered his employment anything more than that I became his clerk.
Cross-examined. I did not understand that I was to have an interest in the association he was conducting—I parted with the money believing the business was solvent—I never saw any business done—I was to pay him £50, and I paid him £40—I paid £20 on the Saturday when I signed the agreement; and told him I could not pay him any more then, because £20 was in the savings bank, and I could not get it out then—I saw the names and addresses of the subscribers in the journal in the hands of the Receiver—I believe the names in this circular are the same as those in the journal—Kemp said nothing to me about being in need of money—he did not say he was pressed for money, but the Traders' Association was a good business, which he had carried on for years—I made no inquiries as to whether this was a bond fide association—I saw from the books that there were about seventy subscribers at the time I entered his employment—some paid £2 2s., some £1 1s., and some 12s. 6d.—no actions came on in my time in which he received considerable profit—after the receiving order was made I wrote a letter to Mr. Harding, the Receiver, at the prisoner's dictation, in which I claimed books, papers, and receipts, for the purpose of carrying on the business—I was duly furnished by the Official Receiver with a statement of the debtor's affairs; the last paragraph refers to my mortgage or agreement—on 1st April, 1889, I had entered into possession of Kemp's business, and was carrying it on, but I could not see anything to carry on—I wrote at the prisoner's dictation to the Official Receiver, informing him that I was carrying on the business, and I may have made out in my own writing the particulars of the mortgage, and sent them to the Official Receiver—I do not understand anything about mortgages—I received my salary for about two weeks, I got £2 8s., and after that £1 10s. and two ten shillings, about £5 altogether—I was there five or six weeks, but was
doing nothing at all; I could not see any business to carry on—I was in possession of the office till a date in April—I occupied the office at 58, Cheapside; the papers and circulars and receipts were removed there on April 24 from 41, Wych Street, and the prisoner wrote to the Post-master-General to have the address altered to 58, Cheapside—some of these circulars may have been sent out, but very few; I believe the prisoner sent some, but I did not attend at the office very often; I had left and stopped at home, as he promised to return me the money as soon as the business was all right—I have not attempted to ascertain whether any one of the names on this circular was placed there without the permission of the person himself—a letter was sent to someone named Fox, purporting to be a notice of a change of solicitors—I wrote that at the prisoner's dictation—at the end of April I attended with the prisoner before the Official Receiver, and the prisoner suggested that we should go and get the journal containing the subscribers' names—I was given permission to copy them, and I did so, after which I signed this document (produced)—it is in my writing—this is my letter: "To Mr. Somerville. May 8th. I undertake to conduct and carry on the business of the subscribers, free of any charge except travelling expenses, until you have completed negotiations for taking over your mortgage, which will be immediately after I receive my discharge from the Bankruptcy Court. B. T. KEMP."—nothing came of that—after that I took home a packet of some 500 circulars relating to the new business at 58, Cheapside, to distribute in my own neighbourhood—I informed Kemp that I had applied for a situation, and had given him as a reference—I wrote at the prisoner's suggestion this letter to Mr. Hallett (Asking him to land him £20 until Mr. Kemp got his discharge, when he would give authority to repay it out of the purchase-money)—I never received any subscriptions for the National Trading Association, or gave receipts for any; the prisoner used to do that—I never saw any subscription; I may have signed a receipt in a solitary instance, but I never got the money.
Re-examined. I did pretty much what Kemp told me—the whole of this document is in my writing—as late as 14th May I had some confidence in him—£2 8s. salary was paid me at the time I paid the £20, and for the sovereign from Mr. Kemp I gave an I O U.
By the COURT. The arrangement was that on my payment of £40 I was to have a mortgage at 3 per cent.—I was to give the other £10, but before I got that I became aware of his bankruptcy—he was bankrupt when I paid the first instalment.
CHARLES L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the prisoner's bankruptcy—the notice was issued on 5th February, the petition is dated February 20th, the receiving order March 8th, and the adjudication, by consent, March 12th—the liabilities are £668 14s. 2d., and the deficiencies the same amount—there are no assets, there are £29 bad debts—no books were produced, and the deficiency has not been satisfactorily explained—the petitioning creditor was Alfred Thompsett.
Cross-examined. He did not, to my knowledge, furnish a list of the
names and addresses of the subscribers—I could get no explanation of the journal which the prosecutor made extracts from.
JOHN SMITH Low. I am a secretary, and live at 42, Hurstfield Road, South Croydon—in February or March, 1888, I received this circular (produced), and subsequently the prisoner introduced himself to me in the train by saying that he was a nephew of Mr. Kemp, Q. C.—he told me about the National Traders' Association, and said that if I had any business on he should be happy to do it for me; that there were a very large number of subscribers, and it paid 33 1/2 per cent, dividend—upon that I became a subscriber—I paid him £2 2s., and he gave me this receipt—about that time I had a grievance against the Assam Tea Company, and instructed the prisoner to commence an action against them—he said that this association would do it much cheaper than any other, and that his uncle would act as Counsel—he told me he had a list of solicitors, but I have never been able to see it—he said Mr. Sidney was a very able man, and I put it into his hands—I paid the prisoner £7 10s. in June for the purpose of paying into Court, for the discovery of documents, and subsequently £11 10s. for interrogatories, which he said was to be paid into Court—he gave me this receipt—I paid him altogether over £60—I have changed my solicitor now, and the action is entered for trial—I parted with my money believing his statement.
Cross-examined. I have not changed my solicitor four or five times since the writ was issued—I did not employ Mr. Wheeler—the first solicitor on the record was Mr. Sidney, who occupied the adjoining offices to Kemp—I was told he was one of the solicitors to the association—his name is on the circulars and on the business door—I do not consider that he acted for me at all; he acted for the prisoner; I did not instruct him—he acted for Kemp about a year and three months—it was in February, 1888, that I paid the money—I left the matter in the hands of the association fifteen months, and could not get a satisfactory answer from the prisoner—I do not know that Mr. Sidney incurred heavy expenses out of pocket in conducting my case—I paid everything before it was due, and have not seen any bill of costs—by the circular Counsels' fees are free; it says, "£2 2s.; subscribers are entitled to have counsel's opinion free, when necessary"—counsel's advice was all I had—I paid the counsel's fees out of pocket—I never had any account from Mr. Sidney—I paid whatever I was asked—I have never been furnished with any account or bill of costs, but my solicitor has—I only saw it the day before yesterday, and I do not acknowledge it—I have not read it; I will look at it now; it is a list of counsels' fees—the amounts I paid were paid for a particular purpose—I was not perfectly cognisant of the fact that the prisoner was simply paying these sums to Mr. Sidney for the purpose of carrying on the action—I took this receipt for the £7 10s., signed, "B. T. Kemp, for and on behalf of Frederick Sidney"—I did not employ Sidney, I employed the prisoner, but I never looked at it; I am very foolish, and trust people too much—Kemp has never informed me that I am in his debt for money expended by him in my service—he never told me I owed him £38, or I should have asked what he meant—the prisoner used the word" nephew," and it was well known in the train that he had given himself out so—it was on the faith of his being the nephew of a Queen's Counsel that I employed him; I thought I was dealing with a respectable man—I was dissatisfied with the way the litigation was being conducted, and complained
—Mr. Sidney did not tell me that I owed him money; but he told me that Mr. Kemp had not paid him the money he received from me—I know Mr. Hallett; I borrowed £10 from him some months ago, after fifteen months' litigation with the Assam Tea Company—I did not get it net, I paid £2 for it; and I am under the belief that Kemp got the £2—I borrowed £10, and now I am asked to pay £12—I was not satisfied that the money I advanced to carry on the litigation was properly applied; I paid £10 in April, and the agreement was never sent—I was not perfectly satisfied with Mr. Kemp when I asked him to do me the favour of becoming my surety; I was very suspicious all the time, and told him many times that I was dissatisfied with him.
Re-examined. I was dissatisfied with him over the £10, and got a solicitor to see him—I said, "Is that £10 paid?"—he said, "Yes;" and I looked at the agreement and found it was not stamped.
FREDERICK CHARLES SIDNEY . I am a solicitor, of New Inn Chambers—I was the solicitor on the record of "Somerville v. the Assam Tea Company" till the 16th April, 1889—I did not receive £7 10s. from the prisoner in June, 1888, for the purpose of obtaining discovery in that action; I asked him for it, and the answer was that he had paid Mr. Jallens' initiation fees as a Mason; Mr. Jallens declined to become a Mason, and he could not get it back—I told Mr. Somerville that in the prisoner's presence—no summons for discovery was issued—this receipt (produced) is not correct; Kemp had no right to give a receipt for me; there was no discovery—he told me he had the money, but ne did not give it to me—I received £7 for interrogatories, and 10s. for the summons and order—this (produced) is the journal kept by the National Traders' Association—there may have been a dozen genuine subscribers in 1888; I have pencilled the list—I can say that there were ten, including Mr. Thompsett, the petitioning creditor, and Mr. Somerville—Mr. Clark ceased as a subscriber when Mr. Somerville came—the prisoner's bail was one of the genuine subscribers—there was no business; there were seven or eight little actions—there were two very heavy actions, which were lost, and he asked me if I would draw an agreement with Somerville—I said, "No; I am not going to the Old Bailey with you; if you take the money you are sure to be convicted"—he said he could not help it, he must have money for his wife and children.
Cross-examined. He was not my clerk; he was the association, and I was one of the solicitors—I have never applied to Mr. Somerville for payment of my costs—I employed counsel for Mr. Somerville, and I have not paid his fees, although he gave a receipt—as a matter of law Mr. Somerville is liable for the fees, but I am in honour, no doubt—when Mr. Somerville was dissatisfied with the way the business was conducted the prisoner handed me the papers with figures on, and said they were Mr. Somerville's figures (£40 3s.), and asked me to make out an account to get him out of the difficulty, and to show how I could make out that amount; and this is the account I rendered to his present solicitor, which shows that I received £12 15s. 4d.—I obtained a receipt from the prisoner, signed by the barrister, for £16 12s. 6d., and then put down the sundries, and it came to £41, and he admitted receiving £40—I made up the account on the basis of figures supplied by Kemp—it is very difficult to know which Mr. Thompsett was the subscriber, the changes were rung between the father and the son; the father brought a friendly
action against the son, and obtained judgment; and the sheriff sold and received the money, and handed the cheques for £35 to Mr. Biggenden, which was handed to the prisoner, who put the money in his pocket—this letter is in my writing—there was no relationship between me and Kemp, he was not acting for me—he lived in the Borough, and I told him to go and get the money, just the same as I should send an office boy.
GUILTY on the First Count only. He received a good character.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PICKERSGILL Prosecuted.
GEORGE PERCY WATKINS . I am a newsboy, and live at Freemason's Cottage, Hounslow—on July 2nd, about 11. 30 a. m., the prisoner sprang out from the comer of Barrack Road, caught hold of my arm, and said, "Stop! go another inch, and you are a dead man; have you got any money?"—I said, "No"—he felt my pockets—I tried to get away, and told him I had to go off duty—he caught my strap, and I broke away—about half an hour afterwards I found him at the railway station, and gave him in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You met me and put your hand on my shoulder, and asked me the way to the railway station—you asked if I should like to be a soldier, and felt my pockets—you did not take my chest measurement, and say that I was not stout enough, and should have to wait—you did not put your hand in my pocket then, or take anything from me—you held me against the wall—I cannot help myself with one arm, and you let go and put your hand in my pocket—you seemed wild, as if you had been drinking—you were not drunk, but I smelt beer.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was gathering manure in the road, but I left off when I saw you—I am nearly thirteen years old.
GEORGE WATKINS . I am the prosecutor's father—he told me something on July 2nd—I went to the railway station, and he pointed out the prisoner—I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "I beg pardon; I want to know why you stopped my boy this morning, and demanded his money"—he said, "Not me, sir; I have not taken anything, and he has not lost anything"—I gave him in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. My son ran home to me—he did not say that you had put your hand in his pocket and taken any money.
WILLIAM BEARD (Policeman 628). On 2nd July, about noon, I was called to the District Railway station, and saw the prisoner—I said I should take him in custody for stopping a boy and attempting to rob him by threats—he said to the boy, "Have you lost anything?" he said, "No"—the prisoner said, "and I have not taken anything"—the charge was read to him at the station, and he said, "What I have to say I shall say before the Magistrate"—he was sober, he know what he was doing, and walked to the station, quite a mile—6s. 8d. was found on him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The boy told me that you stopped him, and attempted to rob him.
The Prisoner in his defence said that he belonged to the Army Reserve, was out begging, and had slept on Hounslow Heath; that he met the boy and said, "Halt! which is the way to the railway station?" that the boy told him, and then he asked the boy if he would like to be a soldiery, but did not say, "You are a dead man;" that he asked the boy how much money he had a week, which he may have misunderstood; and that 6s. 8d. which was found on him was part of his pension, which he had received on the Monday.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HIGGINS Prosecuted, and MR. GILL, jun., Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
ANN JARVIS . I am the wife of Henry Jarvis, of 55, Clifton Place, Finsbury—on July 1st, about 11 p. m., I was with Elizabeth Coombs outside Liverpool Street station—I took my purse out to purchase a flower, but had no change, and put it back; there was 1s. 0 3/4 d. in it—I asked my friend to pay for the flower, and immediately saw her holding the prisoner by his coat—she said, "Drop that purse; I saw you take your hand out of my friend's pocket"—he said, "I have no purse"—I missed my purse—he was surrounded by flower-girls, and I was confused—a young man came up and said, "Drop that purse"—the prisoner tried to get away, but the young man gave him in charge.
ELIZABETH COOMBS . I am a milliner, of 5, Clifton Place, Finsbury—I was with Jarvis, and saw her take out her purse and put it back—directly after that I saw the prisoner's hand in the pocket where she had put it—I caught hold of his coat and said, "Give me that puree"—he said, "I have no purse"—he tried to get away, but ran into a gentleman's arms, and was given in custody—a great many flower-girls were about, but not many men.
EDWIN JONES . I live at 81, Brook Road, Dalston—on 8th July I was in Liverpool Street, and saw the prisoner's hand in the prosecutrix's pocket—he was being held by his coat, and ran into my arms—I told him to drop the purse—he said, "I have no purse"—I called a constable, and the prosecutrix gave him in custody—his hands were closed, and he dropped them at his sides—we were surrounded by flower-girls.
EDWARD YOUNG (City Policeman 955). On 1st July, about eleven o'clock, Jones called me, and said that he saw the prisoner's hand leave the prosecutrix's pocket—she said she had lost her purse—I asked the prisoner to give me the purse—he said, "I have no purse; take me to the station and search me"—I did so, but found nothing—he gave a false address.
GUILTY —He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court in March, 1885.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, July 31st, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
628. ALFRED HARDING, ALFRED CLARK , and EDWARD SAUNDERS PLEADED GUILTY to warehouse-breaking; and also to being found, by night, with housebreaking implements in their possession, without lawful excuse.— Nine Months' Hard Labour each. And
629. RICHARD SMITH (28) , To burglary in the dwelling-house of John Bird, and stealing 1d.; also to a conviction of felony in October, 1885, in the name of George Franklin.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. The GRAND JURY commended the conduct of a witness, Payne, and of the police. The COURT awarded Payne £3. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
Upon the evidence of Dr. Gilbert, surgeon of Holloway Prison, the Jury found the prisoner insane, and unfit to plead. To be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
For cases tried in this Court this day, see Kent Cases.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, August 1st, 1889.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
631. EDWARD RICHARD WHITE , Feloniously sending to John Theodore Tussaud a certain explosive substance, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm. Other Counts, with intent to burn and disfigure, and to maim and disable.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
EDWIN JOSIAH POYSER . I am managing director of Tussaud and Company, Limited—my father is the principal proprietor and share-holder—I have been manager since the company took it over in February—since that time the prisoner has done no work for the establishment; before that he did—two or three of the Miss Tussauds and Mr. John Tussaud have been doing the work which the prisoner did, viz., the insertion of the hair—on Monday, 25th June, I arrived at the Exhibition about half-past nine—letters and small parcels are left on a slab, and I open them—on that morning the letters were handed to me; I picked up this parcel myself, it was on the slab—I went with it round the rooms, and eventually took it upstairs into the studio, where Mr. John Tussaud works—the parcel is addressed, "John T. Tussaud, Esq., Exhibition, Marylebone Road; paid"—Mr. John Tussaud was in the studio at work; I handed him the parcel and said, "This is for you, Mr. John"—he took the parcel, and began to undo the brown paper; then he laid it down and said something to me—he then picked it up again, and I noticed some grains of gunpowder—I am a sportsman; I know all about sporting gunpowders—I took up a few of the grains that were loose at one end of the paper that was undone—I took them in the palm of my hand outside the studio, and put them on the mantelshelf just outside the studio door; I took a match, struck it, and just put it to the powder to make certain, and it flared up; I then stepped
back to the studio, left the parcel there, locked the door, and went with Mr. Tussaud to the Police-station—Sergeant Morgan was directed to go to the establishment; I and Mr. Tussaud got back before him; Morgan followed shortly afterwards—I took him up to the studio, and showed him where the parcel was—he took hold of it, and cut the cord—it was bound round with this piece of gold lace cord—he first took off the paper which was sealed on, and was going to open the box; I stopped him from doing that, and asked him to take it to some open space before he did anything else with it—we took it into the garden, an open space at the east end of the building—Morgan there opened the box, as far as it would go, about 1-16th of an inch, and shook all the powder out on to the grass; I should say there was about half a pound—I picked up about an ounce of it, and gave it to Morgan, leaving the other, on the grass—it was in very good condition—two days afterwards I ignited the other powder; I threw a match into it on the grass, and it flared up, as nearly as I could tell, from 15 to 20 feet high; I had no idea that such a tremendous lot of gunpowder was left—since I have become managing director I have seen the prisoner on three or four occasions; he only came once direct to me; I don't know what he came about—I had no conversation with him.
Cross-examined. I believe he was employed at the Exhibition quite up to the time we took it over on 8th February—I have spoken to him on one occasion since; I can't say when it was, but it was some time before this took place—when we took the place over practically there was nobody in the employment, because they had all had notice to leave—I cannot say how many were discharged—I don't think I should know the names; I might know one or two—we had nothing to do with the bandsmen; the bandmaster supplied them—I don't know if there Were a number of foreigners among them—I do not know Dominichi—I believe Mitchell is a foreigner—he was discharged since we took it over; I think in April—he was what they call the tailor—I heard that he was a Spaniard or an Italian—I really know nothing about him—he used to look after the clothes—I don't see him here—I have not seen him to-day—as a tailor he would have to do with the dressing of the figures—I believe we have similar cord to that which was tied round the box, and it would be used on the uniforms—we have not a stock of it—there is some on the figures I believe—we keep no loose cord—I said before the Magistrate that we had some like it—I don't know that I said we had a stock; if I swore that it was true—Mitchell would have charge of it before he was discharged; it would be in his department—I said he was discharged by me shortly before 22nd June; I meant some time between 8th February and 24th June—this box has been submitted to a skilled person to examine, a person having special knowledge—I did not write to the paper describing it as dynamite—there was nothing about it in the Mercury—I wrote a short account for the local papers, as such misstatements had been put in the papers—I have a copy of it—I said this box had been seen by some person—I cannot tell you who has examined it—I don't know who examined it—it was sent to Woolwich, I think; at all events to Col Majendie, wherever he was—I did not examine the box; I saw it—I did not hear the flame from the powder on the glass described at the Police-court as high as the Tussaud establishment—I was not in Court when that was said—I said it was as high as 15 or 20 feet—the powder had bee there during the whole of two nights—they were very
dry nights—the white substance in the box was bread, I believe—I did not examine the thing carefully; I never had the box in my hands—I saw John Tussaud undo it—I did not expect the parcel—I believe I saw Mr. Babington Tussaud on the Wednesday after we received the parcel on the Monday; the box had then been taken away—it was some days after that I knew of the boy Baker from the parcels' office—I don't think I was told the description he had given of the man who left the parcel, for some time; I heard of it before the prisoner was taken it to custody—as near as I can tell it was something of this sort: "A man, aged 40; height, 5 feet 8 inches; stout build; complexion fair; hair dark, whiskers all round, and moustache; dressed respectably, in dark clothes, white collar and front, dark tie, and black felt hat; can be identified"—I think I knew of that description before the prisoner was arrested—I did not supply the police with a photograph of the prisoner—I believe Mr. John Tussaud did, but I could not swear to that; I never saw it—it was given to Sergt. Quin—Mr. John Tussaud is the prosecutor—my father sanctioned the prosecution; we asked his permission before any action was taken—I did not know of the prisoner's photograph until a day or two after Quin had got it—I think it was towards the end of the week that the box was received—I never spoke to the boy, except just to say good morning—he has been to Tussaud's—I did not see him there till after the warrant was applied for—on the first day of the remand I gave him my card as an admission to the exhibition—Quin asked me for it for him—I did not see him there—I knew nothing of the arrangement made to identify the prisoner, till afterwards—my knowledge of gunpowder is only from using cartridges.
Re-examined. Mr. Babington Tussaud offered to help his brother to find out who had sent him the box—the matter was left entirely to the police—I never had the box in my hand for a very long time.
FREDERICK BAKER . I am fourteen years of age; I am employed at the London Parcels Delivery Office in Fetter Lane, and have been there twelve months last March—on Saturday, 22nd June, a small brown paper parcel was brought to me addressed to Mr. T. Tussaud, Exhibition, Marylebone Road—it was brought by the prisoner—he said, "I want that sent"—he paid me 4d. for it—I said, "Who is the sender, please?"—he refused to give the sender's name—he said, "As it is paid for it is sure to be taken in"—I then booked the parcel on the booking-bill, and put it on a counter on the opposite side, the proper place for the men to collect—I made an entry in the parcel-book—on 26th June Inspector Quin came to me in Fetter Lane; he put some questions, which I answered—I did not then know who he was—I saw him again on the 27th, and had some conversation—ho did not then say who he was—I had seen this about Tussaud's on the placards, and I guessed who he was—on the 29th he came and took me and my father to the Duke of York public-house in Marylebone Road, about half-past ten at night—I remained there till eleven—I was sitting on a stool, opposite a table, in the bar—Quin had told me to do something—about from forty to fifty people came in and out—after I had been there about three-quarters of an hour I saw the prisoner come in; I recognised him, and I said something to Quin—I have no doubt about the prisoner being the man who brought the parcel to me—I identify the parcel by the handwriting on it.
Cross-examined. I am certain of the handwriting—I knew it at Once
when the parcel was shown to me on the "Wednesday—I have an assistant in the office; he is above me; when he is out of the way I take the parcels and book them—on a Saturday about 250 parcels are brought in—I am pretty fair at handwriting, and people too—there is no reason why I should watch a person particularly—if a parcel is brought without the sender's name and address on it, I ask for it—I do not weigh the parcels; I know the weight and price pretty well—I then enter it—I am standing up at the time—I did not know that anything had happened about this parcel till Wednesday, the 26th, when Quin called—I had not read of the "Dynamite Outrage at Madame Tussaud's "at that time—I had seen it on the placards—I do not know a detective when I see him; Quin did not look anything particular; only an ordinary man—he asked if I knew the person that brought the parcel, and he would like to find out who he was—I did not know on the 26th that that was what he was inquiring about—he did not look at my book—he had got the parcel with him; he showed me the paper; I don't remember seeing the box, only the brown paper, which I at once identified; and then I remembered the man as far as I could make out—I did remember him—my memory has not improved since—I have said that he had a soft felt hat on, like this one—I did not first say he had a soft felt hat on, not that I remember—I won't swear I did not—I did not afterwards say to Morgan that it was a hard felt hat—I might have done so—I believe I said to Quin that he had a large felt hat—that was on the Thursday when he showed me a photograph—I afterwards said it was a tall, silk hat—I know the difference between a silk hat and a soft felt—when I described the man Quin wrote it down—Morgan also wrote down my description—I do not read the evening papers; I just look at the placards as I walk along—I was shown one on the Sunday after I had been at the Police-court—one of my pals showed it me—I was a good deal sought after on that Sunday—my mind was very full of this—it was after the two written descriptions that I was shown the photograph—I was shown one, but that was not the right man; it was taken seventeen years ago—they showed me a lot of photographs, and I picked out the wrong one—they were not angry with me; Quin walked away in the same mood as he came—that was before I went to Madame Tussaud's and had a free admission—I saw a young gentleman, and had a talk with him; he was at the public-house that night, Mr. Babington Tussaud; he walked into the bar with the prisoner—I did not think he had gone to fetch him; he never told me—I had seen the prisoner before I saw Mr. Babington Tussaud; they were talking—I was told to look round—I did not look at the man he spoke to; I looked at the man that brought the parcel, the man who I thought I had seen before—I did not pick out Mr. Babington Tussaud; I picked out the other man; I knew him at once—he had on a tall hat—I have not got the photograph here that I picked out—the bar of the public-house would hold about twenty people standing comfortably—the forty or fifty people walked in and out—Mr. Babington Tussaud was only with the one man—I don't know where he went to fetch him from—at the Police-court I did not mention anything about Mr. Babington Tussaud being with the man at the public-house—they never asked me; I did not tell anything I was not asked.
to inquire into this matter, and as a result of those inquiries I went to the Parcels Delivery Office in Fetter Lane, and saw the boy Baker—I had a conversation with him—he gave me a description, which I have with me—on the following day I showed him seven photographs, among them being one of the prisoner—he did not identify either of them—they were Scotland Yard photographs, not all of well-known criminals, of persons who have been reported as missing—I have not got them here; they are at Scotland Yard; I can get them—I saw the boy again on the 29th June, and went with him and his father to the Duke of York public house—Mr. Babington Tussaud was with me on that occasion—I gave the boy certain directions; we went inside the bar—the boy sat alone at a table, his father, Mr. Babington Tussaud and I were at the bar—it was about three-quarters of an hour before the boy made any communication to me; neither I, his father, nor Mr. Babington Tussaud had any conversation with him from the time he was seated at the table until he made some sign to me—there might be about thirty people in and out of the house during that interval—Saturday is a busy night in a public-house—at the end of the three-quarters of an hour the boy nodded his head in the direction of the door—I looked in that direction, and saw the prisoner; he was talking to Babington Tussaud—I left the prisoner in the bar, and went outside, and I was followed out by Baker, his father, and Tussaud—the boy then made a communication to me—from the time I was first instructed I had the whole conduct of this matter, so far as the police were concerned—I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest on 10th July, and on the 11th I arrested him, at 3 in the afternoon, at 10, Percy Road, Shepherd's Bush, where he was living—I read the warrant to him—he said, "You astonish me! there is a suspicion, but if they cannot prove it it will show them up"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—the charge was read over to him—he made no further statement—he was searched—I found some letters on him (producing them)—I was reading one of them, beginning, "My dear boys," and the prisoner was looking over my shoulder; he said, "Will it be necessary to produce that letter?"—I made no reply to that—when I got towards the end of the letter he said, "You see what my feelings were when I wrote it; one's feelings sometimes get the better of one "(The letters were put in and read, they expressed grief at his being dismissed from his employment, and attributed it to John Tussaud)—I have produced this box to-day; it has been in my custody—when I first saw it I noticed these two fusees in it—the explosive part of the fusees were on them at the time, quite complete—I received it at the Police Office, 21, Whitehall Place.
Cross-examined. I was for a time specially employed in investigating dynamite matters—I received this box on the 26th, before I made any inquiry into the case—it had the piece of gold braid tied to it—I submitted it to Col. Majendie, and he reported upon it—I recognised bread as the principal thing in it; it took up a good portion of the space—underneath the bread was lint, or something of that kind—I have never seen so much bread in an infernal machine—Col. Majendie was not called as a witness—Morgan and I were both present when the boy gave his description, but I took it down—only one description was given; this is it (read: "Age 40; height 5 ft. 8 in.; stout build; complexion fair; hair dark, and cut short; whiskers broad, about 3 inches long, straggling;
a moustache, dark brown" (he was not quite certain of that) "rather large beard; haggard face, thin; broad-shouldered; dress, dark jacket and vest, dark tie, white collar and front, soft black felt hat; respectable appearance; carried umbrella; can be identified"—he was not quite sure whether it was a soft or ordinary hard felt hat—I searched the room where I arrested the prisoner—it was on Thursday, the 27th, that I showed the boy the photograph—I am quite sure that he did not pick out any—the prisoner's photo was supplied by John Tussaud—it was taken 16 years ago—I did not tell the boy when it was taken, I did not know then—we met at Baker Street station on the 29th, and Babington Tussaud and I walked together, and the father and the boy—during the time we were in the bar Babington Tussaud and the boy were some of the time in the same bar—he went away from the bar, and came to the door with the prisoner; I don't know where he brought him from; the boy nodded in their direction—the prisoner was then wearing an ordinary black high hat with, I think, a mourning band—I heard the boy describe the man at the Police-court as wearing a silk hat—the prisoner was not wearing any hat then—I did not notice where it was.
Re-examined. The boy said he would know the man if he saw him again, and then I put down "can be identified" (The witness was directed to fetch the photographs).
WILLIAM PRICE . I am a commissionaire, employed at Tussaud and Co. 's—I was on duty there on the morning of the 24th June—I received from the carman of the Parcels Delivery Company this parcel in brown paper—I signed for it, and placed it on the slab in the ordinary place for letters and small parcels.
THOMAS WEBBER . I am a carman in the employ of the Parcels Delivery Company—on Saturday I took charge of a parcel about this size from the office in Fetter Lane, and on the Monday I delivered it to Price—I took a receipt for it.
BENJAMIN MORGAN (Detective Sergeant). On 24th June I was instructed by my superintendent to go to Tussaud's Exhibition—I went there, and was taken up to the studio by Mr. Poyser—I was there shown a brown paper parcel covering a box; the paper was fastened with wax, and this gold cord was tied round the box inside the paper—I took off the paper and cut the cord—I took the box into the garden, as they objected to my opening it in the building—I opened the lid slightly, indeed it opened of its own accord after cutting the cord, and some gunpowder fell out—I turned it up and shook it gently, and a quantity of gunpowder fell out, about half a pound, more or less—I inserted my finger, and found there was a connection from the lid to the inside—I succeeded in disconnecting this piece of sandpaper from the lid; and on removing the lid I found some paper pasted over, carefully hiding the contents—I broke that away, and then found this sandpaper in contact with the fusees right away to the bottom of the box—the sand side of the paper was in contact with the heads of the fusees—if violently opened this would come in contact with the fusees; the fusees were fixed tight against the sand paper—I tried the sandpaper gently, it would not give without some force—I then took it to the police-station, and reported the matter to the Commissioner, and by his direction it was taken to the Inspector of Explosives, with about an ounce of the powder, which I gathered up off the floor—the box was taken from Col. Majendie, and Quin has since had
possession of it—I went with Quin to see the boy Baker at Fetter Lane; Quin was taking the active part in it—I heard all that passed there, and saw what was done.
Cross-examined. I have had nothing to do with cases of explosives and dynamite—I have opened mysterious parcels—this was sent to the Government Inspector of Explosives—he was not called at the Police-court—there was some other substance in the box; broad was the leading article, a large piece of bread in one place, and two pieces of bread in the comers—it was described as a whitish substance; it was black with powder—I can't say if the fusees have been fired, they were apparently in good condition for firing at the time I opened the box—I can't say what has been done with them since—after the inspector had examined the box the Government did not prosecute—the Commissioner reported to the authorities—Quin has been specially employed by the Government in cases of supposed outrages of this kind—the box was sent to Col. Majendie by direction of the Commissioner—I was present when the boy gave the description that was written down—he was asked what sort of a hat the man was wearing, and he said a black felt hat—I did not weigh the contents of the box—I know nothing about what kind of powder it was—I have not got the powder that was submitted to the inspector.
Re-examined. When I opened the box I saw the two fusees; they appeared in good condition for striking—the box is apparently a small cigar-box—I made inquiry at one shop, in consequence of a suggestion, but it did not come from there.
JOHN THEODORE TUSSAUD . I am manager to Tussaud and Co., Limited—I worked for many years for the business under the old concern, and since it has been a company—I am skilled in the insertion of hair—the prisoner has worked for Tussaud and Co. over 15 years—he was not a servant of the company—piecework was given out to him—on an average he earned quite £6 a week—in February last contracts were entered into between our family and Mr. Poyser, for the purchase of the concern and the building generally—before the completion of the contract a list of all the persons employed was made out for Mr. Poyser's inspection—in that list the prisoner's name appeared, with the description of what he had been doing—when Mr. Poyser took over the concern there was a formal general dismissal given to all the persons—some were permanently dismissed, or work ceased to be given to them, and others were re-engaged—from that time the prisoner has not done any work for the concern—I have taken his place, in conjunction with two of my sisters, who are skilled in that way—the prisoner kept a work-book, which I have here, from February 28th, 1880, to December 14th, 1883—that is the only book I have been able to retain possession of—I know the prisoner's hand-writing, and have seen him write—this book is in his handwriting—in my opinion the writing on this brown paper is the prisoner's—I was not present when Baker identified the prisoner—I have not made any communication to the newspapers about this matter.
Cross-examined. I do not write to the papers—I did not write this as a dynamite outrage—Mr. Richardson manages the writing department—Mr. Poyser's father has the greatest money interest in the concern—I did not make out the list of persons employed—I had a list placed before me—I think six or seven persons have boon dismissed; I will not say definitely—we do not consider the bandsmen part of the staff; they have
lost their places—Mr. Delavent was paid £24, I think, for the whole band—Mitchell was not discharged at that time, but much later, recently—he is a tailor—the braid would be under his charge—it could not be got without the keys—I think he is a Frenchman—Dominichi is a modeller, he was discharged months before the business was taken over—I have had no conversation with the prisoner since he ceased to work there—I obtained his photograph from my father's house—I did not give it to Babington—I knew he was in communication with the police—my father is here, I suppose for the purpose of giving the prisoner a character—the prisoner has not been at the Exhibition since February; that is to say, he may have called in once or twice—I know he was there once, I heard of his calling after he had been—I have said nothing to Quin as to the prisoner with others forming a rival establishment—I did not hear Quin say at the Police-court that he had been told that the prisoner and others had been trying to form a rival establishment.
GEORGE SMITH INGLIS . I am an expert in handwriting—I have had placed before me this book and this writing on brown paper—I say they are written by one and the same individual—I have picked out certain words, and if necessary can give my reasons for my opinion.
Cross-examined. I had my reasons in the case of Ludlam tried yesterday—I make mistakes sometimes—I have sometimes given evidence on the same side as Mr. Netherclift, and sometimes on a different side.
There was an indictment upon the same facts, for sending an explosive substance, upon which no evidence was offered, and a verdict of
NOT GUILTY taken.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, August 1st, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOODFALL Prosecuted.
JESSIE RUSCONI . I am the wife of Arthur Rusconi, who keeps the Black Swan, Ryder Street, Leicester Square—I know the prisoner as a customer—on 28th June, about 11. 50 p. m., the prisoner came in and handed me this note, and asked if I would oblige her with change for a £6 note—I handed it to my husband in a room at the back, he gave me £3 10s. in gold, and told me to take 30s. from the silver in the till—I left the note with him, and gave the money to the prisoner—while she was counting it my husband came and said to me, "Who gave you this note? "Isaid, "This person here"—he said to the prisoner, "I don't think this is good"—she said, "I am not used to paper money, and I did not know but what it was good; my mistress gave it to me to get change; she lives in Panton Street, Haymarket"—she gave back the money to my husband, and he called a constable.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The note was folded in half when you gave it to me, with the printed side doubled in, and I handed it in that way to Mr. Rusconi.
ARTHUR RUSCONI . I keep the Black Swan—on 28th June, about midnight, my wife brought this £5 note into the back parlour, and asked me to give her change for it—I gave her £3 10s., and she left the room—I opened the note, saw that it was a very strange one, and went into the bar and said to her, "This is a very queer note, where did you get it?"—she pointed to the prisoner—I said, "Where did you get this note?"—she said, "My mistress in Panton Street"—I showed it to Mr. Tregallo in the bar, who asked her a few questions which she refused to answer, and he fetched a constable—she said she did not know it was a bad note, and she would not answer any questions in front of that man, Mr. Tregallo.
Cross-examined. You asked me to come with you to your mistress.
ADOLPH TREGALLO . I live at 68, New Kent Road—I was in this public-house—Mr. Rusconi came out and handed me this note—I asked the prisoner where she got it—she said, "From my mistress in Panton Street"—I held it up to the light to see the water-mark, and when I saw this sketch in the corner I said it was a forgery—I said to the prisoner, "Where does your mistress live in Panton Street?"—she said, "I don't know, nor shall I answer any question of yours"—I said, "Don't let her go," and went out for a policeman.
SIDNEY RUTHERFORD (Policeman). I was called to the Black Swan about midnight, and Mr. Rusconi gave the prisoner into my charge for trying to pass a forged note on him—I said to her, "Where did you get it from?"—she said, "I shan't tell you while that man is in the bar, "pointing to Mr. Tregallo—I took her to the station—she said, "A strange woman gave me the note in Panton Street, and asked me to change it, as she was a stranger in the neighbourhood"—she said she did not know it was bad; she had never had anything to do with notes—she was charged at the station and made no answer.
Cross-examined. You did not tell me that the woman promised you something for yourself, and you took it where you were known.
ANN BAILEY . I live at 18, Great Windmill Street—I have known the prisoner for three years—she had been living with me for a week before June 28th—she is a charwoman, and is in the habit of helping me with my washing—I did not give her this note, or ask her to get change for it—I never saw it.
The Prisoner. That is not the woman who gave me the note.
The Prisoner, in her statement before the Magistrate, and in her defence, said that she met a strange woman in Panton Street, who asked her to change the note, and promised her something for doing so, and waited outside while she went in.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted,MR. CANDY and MR. W. M. ST. AUBYN
WALTER DENT . I am assistant to Messrs. Gorringe, drapers, of Buckingham Palace Road—on 4th April the prisoner purchased some collars for 3s. 9d., and gave me in payment a cheque for £5, drawn by Charlotte Chalk on the Streatham Branch of the Alliance Bank—I gave him £4 16s. 3d. change—that was paid in and sent back marked "N. S."—I communicated with Stubbs' Mercantile Office—this notice purports to come from them—it is addressed to W. J. Chalk, and dated May 7th, claiming £5 and 5s. expenses—I did not see him again till he was at Bow Street.
Cross-examined. He was a perfect stranger; he gave his address as Streatham—the cheque was drawn in his favour—we sent to him when it came back, and had one or two letters from him, saying that he would call; but as he did not we placed it in Stubbs' hands for collection, and followed it up by a County-court summons.
EDWARD REVILL . I am cashier to Wade and Thurston, wine merchants, of St. Dunstan's Hill—the prisoner owed them £5 or £6—he came on May 31st and said he wished us to write £5 off his account, and as it was too late to get a cheque cashed would I accept the cheque and give him £7 in cash; I did so—it was drawn by Charlotte Chalk in favour of W. J. Chalk, on the Streatham Branch of the Alliance Bank—it was paid into the account, and returned marked "N. S."—I wrote to him and told him it was dishonoured, and he wrote this letter: "June 27th. I cannot express my regret that the cheque I gave you was returned, it should have been marked, 'effects not cleared'"—we placed the matter in the hands of our solicitor—we then received this letter. (From the prisoner, dated June 8th,stating that he would call not later than the 12th,and that Mrs. Chalk was out of town.)—we then received this (Dated June 11th stating that he called yesterday but was too late, but should he able to take up the cheque tomorrow.)—we then received a telegram postponing the appointment, as he was unavoidably detained—he did not call—on June 20th we received this letter, enclosing a cheque for £7, post-dated June 22nd, on Messrs. Twining (The letter stated that they could draw on the cheque on Saturday, and that his address would he Ship Hotel, Brighton)—we paid in that cheque, and it came back marked, "No effects," and the second time it was marked "Account closed"—that was on 27th June.
Cross-examined. I believeid at the time that the cheque was drawn by himself; it was drawn in his favour—I instructed Mr. Thurston, a derk, to pay him the £7—it was at 5 p. m.—he had been a customer of the firm a few months—Mr. Lewis, of Bush Lane, is the firm's solicitor; I do no think the prisoner called there.
CHARLES HENRY FROST. I am a clerk at the Alliance Bank, Streatham Branch—Charlotte E. Chalk had an account there—this is an account of it: 18s. 2d. stood to her credit on April 5th, and on that day this cheque for £5 was presented; I marked it "N. S. "; no money has been paid in since; we took our commission but of the 18s. 2d., and sent 7s. 8d. to Mrs. Chalk on June 30th.
Cross-examined. We closed the account at the half-year—on April 3rd,
when the account was drawn, the amount to credit was £6 6s. 2d., but two cheques were paid in the interval which reduced the balance to 18s. 2d.—if those two cheques had not been paid there would have been enough and to spare—it is possible for a customer to have a small over draft if the manager pleases—Mrs. Chalk had never overdrawn.
Re-examined. I cannot tell the dates of the two cheques I have mentioned; we only know when they are presented; one was for £1 10s. 6d.—she would not have been allowed to overdraw to the amount of £12.
GEORGE REES . I am a printseller, of 115, Strand—the prisoner owed me £4, and on 13th June he called and said he came to pay an old account—I said, "Very well"—my account was £4—he said, "Have you any objection for me to draw for an extra sovereign?"—I said, "No"—he said, "You need not be frightened; I have just paid £20 into Twinings"—he drew for £5, and I gave him £1—I paid the cheque in, and it came back marked "No effects"—I crossed it; it is dated June 12th.
Cross-examined. That was between 3 and 4 o'clock—I am five minutes' walk from Twinings—I could have sent it there—he said he had paid £27 into the bank; he did not say Twinings—I could not have misunder-stood him—I think he thought I was hesitating when he said that.
Re-examined. He never came back.
CHARLES HENRY MAYBEE . I carry on business with my father as sculptors, at Storey's Gate—the prisoner owed us £7 1s., the balance of an account, and on June 15th he called and said he had recovered from his illness, and was paying off his debts, and wished me to charge interest on the amount, as it had been standing so long, but I did not do so—he gave me a cheque for £10 on Twinings, dated June 15th—I told him he was mistaken in the balance, it was £7 1s.—I gave him the change to save him going back to his office for another cheque—I kept it in my pocket for a week, and then received this letter from him (Dated June 20th, stating that he had heard from Messrs. Twining that the cheque had gone back, which he deeply regretted, and he had been promised £100 on Monday, and his address would be Old Ship Hotel, Brighton)—I paid it in again, and received it back marked "No effects."
Cross-examined. I received the letter before I paid it in—I gave him £2 19s. change.
GEORGE WYNAN WALKER . I am an insurance broker, of 70, Lower Thames Street—on 19th June the prisoner called on me about some business; he was going to carry out a railway in Holland parallel to a canal—as he was leaving he said, "Oh, will you cash my cheque?"—I said, "For what amount?"—he said, "£6"—I said, "Oh yes"—he drew a cheque for £6, and I got the cash from the cashier, and gave it to him—I crossed it "Fuller and Co.," and paid it in—it came back on June 5th marked "No effects"—on June 21st I received this letter from him—I parted with my money believing the cheque was good.
Cross-examined. There is a partner in the firm named Howard, but he was not present—I did not know the prisoner, but I had heard of him as being connected with a company—I did not know in what capacity.
PERCY ARTHUR GILBERT WOOD . I am a publisher, of 175, Strand, with my father—the prisoner called on mo in June, about 6 p. m., and said he knew my father, and as it was after banking hours, would I cash a cheque for him on Messrs. Twining—my father was engaged, but I asked
him if I should cash it—he said, "Yes"—the prisoner drew this cheque in the office, and I gave him £2—I sent the cheque to the bank next morning, and it came back marked "No effects"—I wrote to the prisoner on the 22nd, and said I had seen Messrs. Twining, and they said that he had no account there, and my father said unless the money was paid he should take out a warrant—I then received this letter, dated June 21st—"Dear Sir,—I should like to see you as to work going on at Battersea, and will come and see you on Monday.—P. S.—I am going to Brighton to-night"—there was another letter which my father opened.
Cross-examined. He brought the cheque-book out of his pocket at the time he asked me, and he said, "I will leave it open, so that you can cash it in the morning"—and I sent across and had it presented over the counter.
GILBERT WOOD . I am managing proprietor of the Architect newspaper in the Strand—my son spoke to me about the prisoner, whom I knew by repute as the secretary of a company—this cheque was paid to me, and returned marked "No effects"—about June 22nd I received this letter—(From the prisoner, stating that he had sent the £2 in a letter by a commissionaire, and enclosed two postal orders, and that he had drawn the cheque, understanding that £100 had been placed to his account)—the letter contained two sovereigns, no postal orders—the letter states, "You can hand me the proceeds;" that means that I could re-present the cheque, and hand the money to him, but the cheque was at Bow Street—I swore an information there on the 24th.
Cross-examined. The £2 was delivered by the commissionaire on the Tuesday, but a warrant had then been applied for—the letter has the London post-mark, "W." or "W. C.," it is not quite clear.
HERBERT HAYNES TWINING . I am a banker, of 215, Strand—the prisoner came there on 13th June, and asked if he might be allowed to open an account on the strength of a letter of introduction—he had not the letter with him—he said that his friend was away ill, mentioning the name of one of our clerks, and the letter would come—he said, "Has any money been tendered in my name?"—I inquired, and said, ". No"; if money was paid to his credit we should advise him of it—he gave two addresses: "Temple Chambers" and "Streatham Common"—his signature was taken, and I handed him a book containing 36 cheques—we never got the letter of introduction, and no money was paid in—the cheques produced were all presented and marked "No effects"—about 15 cheques from this book were presented between June 13th and July 1st—£27 was not paid to his credit on 13th June by him or anyone else—the account was closed on 26th June, and we got the cheque-book back through our solicitor—this cheque for Mr. Green for £11 5s. has not been presented; the other was a blank cheque; both of them are out of the book I supplied to him.
Cross-examined. He named a customer of ours, and I knew that he was ill—that was mentioned as a reason why he had not got the letter with him—he did not ask for a cheque-book; my partner said, "Will you take a cheque-book? you do not care probably to call a second time"—both the addresses he gave were correct—the cheque-book was put down on one side of the account—we should have advised him if assets had been paid in, and so far his cheques would have been honoured—he said he was not particularly desirous of having a cheque-book then.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Police Sergeant E). On 27th June I took the prisoner on a warrant at 40, Buckleigh Road, Streatham, for obtaining £2 from Mr. Wood by false pretences—he said, "Are you aware that that money has been paid back?"—I said, "Mr. Wood told me he received a letter containing £2, after the warrant was issued"—he made no reply—I took him to Bow Street—some letters and documents were found on him, and two cheques, one blank and one for £115s. to Mr. Green, whom I know—several of the letters complained of dishonoured cheques, and in some cases proceedings had been taken in the County-court—I have seen some of the writers.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday,August 1st, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted, and MESSRS. K. FRITH and SANDS Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LAWLESS,for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY . For other Cases tried in this Court this day, see Essex and Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Friday,August 2nd, 1889.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. FULTON Defended.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Detective Sergeant). After 16th May I received information concerning the prisoner and a man named Lecore, and from that time I have kept observation on the prisoner with Davidson and others—on 6th July, about 9. 20 p. m., I was with Davidson and two other officers in Chiswell Street, and saw the prisoner and Lecore coming in a direction from Beech Street; Lecore was carrying a parcel tied up with string—we followed them through several streets to 87, Hare Street, Bethnal Green, where they stopped and spoke for a minute or so; and
then Lecore went into Mr. Sele's umbrella shop, No. 87, with the parcel, leaving the prisoner at the opposite corner—he came out in ten minutes without the parcel and joined the prisoner, and showed him something in his right hand—we crossed over and said that we were police officers—I said to the prisoner, "I believe your name is Lecore!"—he said, "Yes"—I knew him as Lecore—Davidson said, "What was in that parcel you have just taken into that shop?"—he said, "What do you mean?"—I said, "You have just come out of that umbrella shop, having taken in a parcel there; what was in it?"—Lecore said, "Umbrella ribs"—I said, "Does it belong to you?"—he said, "No; to this man, "pointing to the prisoner—I said, "What have you got in your hand?"—he said, "Oh, the money I have just got for them"—I found 2s. 9d. in his hand—we left them with the other officers, and Davidson and I went into the shop and saw Sele there, who gave us these things—they were loose then—we went back to the prisoner and Lecore, and said, "These are the ribs, we believe"—Mr. Shipley from the firm was with us—we took them both in custody.
Cross-examined. He said, "They are odd ones, and have accumulated from time to time; we always have two or three given over in case of breakage"—that had slipped my memoir for the minute.
DAVID SELE . I am an umbrella maker, of 80, Hare Street, Bethnal Green—on the night of 5th July Lecore brought a parcel to my shop, which I afterward showed to the police—I gave him 2s. 9d. for the ribs—both he and the prisoner were perfect strangers to me—I sell second hand umbrellas, and make second-class ones; I re-cover them—I call these ribs; they are new, but they are a job line—I want all sizes—there are three sizes here.
Cross-examined. I gave him a fair price for a job lot, more than the value—these are all the same size, but the third lot are mixed—they were tied up when they were brought.
JOSEPH FAULKENER . I am sixteen years old—I entered the service of Barnett and Phillips two years and nine months ago as light porter, and the prisoner came about two months afterwards—he came to the warehouse two or three times a day—after a time I was put into the same room with Mr. Boack in the basement—he gives out the ribs, and I was his assistant—all the materials necessary for making umbrellas were sent out from that room—Stevenson came there for work—Mr. Boack books how much is given out, and when the work is brought back it is taken to the third floor and signed for, and he receives the money due to him—I have taken goods belonging to my master without his authority—the prisoner asked me to do that—on 4th July I took eleven vulcanite handles—I gave the prisoner some ribs before 4th July, but I cannot say whether these are the same—I did not enter them in any book—Mr. Boack knew nothing about my taking them—the prisoner mostly put down on a piece of paper what he wanted, and I used to give them to him when there was no one there—he gave me money for them—this was about Christmas—I gave him some a week before this case came on—he gave me 6d. a dozen for common ones, and 1s. a dozen for best—I recognised these as a half dozen set of 22-inch Nests—I saw Mr. Boack give them to the prisoner, and an entry of them was made in the book—I have heard Mr. Boack two or three times ask the prisoner to bring them back—I recognise them, and can refer, if necessary, to an entry in the book of their having been given to him.
Cross-examined. I was formerly in the service of Messrs. Tomlinson, paper stainers, of Goswell Road—I was dismissed two and three-quarter years ago, not for dishonesty, but because I used to come late in the morning—I had to go there at six—Davidson was the first person who spoke to me, and I said that I knew nothing at all about it—they said, "We want the truth about Stevenson," and I went off in a faint, and when I came to I told the truth—I was not told that if I said what I knew about Stevenson I should get out of it—Lyson was there as well as Davidson.
JOHN DAVIDSON (City Detective). I was engaged in the matter with Lythel—I held out no inducement or threat to the boy—his master said that it would depend on his conduct whether he would be charged, but that was after he made the statement—he fainted when he was spoken to—before the statement was made we told him we were police officers, and had Stevenson in custody for robbing his employer, and the best thing he could do was to tell us the truth.
Cross-examined. We were in plain clothes—he never has been charged.
JOSEPH BOACK . I am foreman to Messrs. Barnett and Phillips—workpeople employed outside come to me for materials, which are booked to them, and when they come back they get what remuneration they are entitled to—the prisoner has been working for the firm for about ten years, and knew the system thoroughly—these are 22-inch Nests; they have the mark of the firm on them—these others are a commoner kind, I cannot see the mark on them, but we had similar articles in stock—there is no entry in my book of this particular quantity being given out to the prisoner—there is an entry of the other; I handed them to the prisoner when he brought his work in; I asked him for them, and he said he would bring them; I afterwards asked him again, and he said he had forgotten them—it was his duty to bring them back—he had no authority to sell them or deal with them in any way.
Cross-examined. He and his father and grandfather have been employed by the firm about 31 years—if he did not bring back the full amount he would be debited at the end of the month—he has not been debited in any book with those which were in his hands—with every 96 ribs given out one is given over on account of breakage, and if he was careful, and did not break any he would have one over; we do not ask for it back—there is no crediting it—two men worked under him at home—40 or 50 dozen ribs a week were issued to him, and sometimes 100 dozen; it depends on the season; forty dozen is the average—sometimes we have a very busy fortnight in July—it was a very good season this spring—this is the particular bundle I issued out to him on 29th June—I identify them by our mark—he has had a great quantity of them in the last six months—it was six sets which were given out to him and never brought back—I asked him for them, but could not get them—the value is 2s. 5d.—that is what he would be debited with—he has a large quantity of the common kind issued out to him in the year—I did not miss any ribs out of stock—about two years ago he gave information to his employers about some dishonesty going on on the premises, for which he received 10s. reward from his masters.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LE MAISTRE Prosceuted.
HENRY PARKER MARTIN . I live at Constitution Hill, Gravesend, and am of no occupation—on 17th June, at 2. 15 in the afternoon, I was in York Road, Stepney—I had been collecting some rents; I saw the prisoner leaning against a wall; he lunged out towards me and struck me in the stomach with his fist—as I was falling he clutched my watchchain; it broke, and a piece remained in my waistcoat—he got me chain and watch and ran off—I got up as quick as I could and followed him, but I cannot run, as I am suffering from disease of the heart—he ran under a railway arch, and I lost sight of him—I valued my watch at £30, but it was worth £60—I have never seen it since—on 15th July I saw the prisoner in the dock at Arbour Square; I have not the least doubt of him.
ALBERT EDWARD SANDAL . I live at 8, Railway Place, York Road, and work in the docks—on 17th June, at a quarter or twenty minutes past two, I was at the comer of our street and saw the prisoner and a man, not in custody—the prisoner walked towards the prosecutor and the other man stepped into the road; as the prosecutor neared the prisoner the prisoner struck him a blow in the stomach with his fist; he was about to fall, and the prisoner snatched his watch-chain and made off, with the watch peeping out of his pocket as he ran—I gave chase—he had on light lawn-tennis shoes, which make no noise—after I took his description I went back to the prosecutor—on 18th July I picked the prisoner out from eight other men at the Police-court—I am perfectly sure he is the man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not tell the magistrate that I only went by the back of your trousers—that is not the coat you had on; there are no pockets in it.
WILLIAM GILL (Detective Officer H). On 17th June I received a description of the prisoner—I made inquiries, and oh the afternoon of July 13th I saw him in Redmans Road, Stepney; and as he answered the description, wearing the same coat, trousers, shoes, and hat, I took him in custody, and told him he would be charged with stealing a gold watch and chain from an old gentleman in York Road on June 10th—he said, "I don't know anything at all about it, but if I am picked out I suppose I shall have to stand to it"—I said I should give him fair play, and if he was identified he would be charged—he was placed with eight others in the reserve room—I got men as much like him as possible, and asked him if he was satisfied—he said, "Yes"—Sandal was brought in, and immediately identified him—he was then charged, and made no answer—when he was brought into the passage of the Police-court the prosecutor called me to him and said, "That is the man who stole my watch."
Cross-examined. I did not see you on the Saturday morning with a load of lemonade boxes, or say, "Good morning"—I did not see you three or four times a week, and say, "Good morning."
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing at all about it—I can bring a lot of witnesses to prove that I was in bed ill at the time.
JOHN WILLIAM HATTON . I am a brother of the prisoner, and live at 43, Skidmore Street—I am a carman and manager for a greengrocer—he does not live with me—I do not remember June 17th, but the constable told me he saw him out with a horse and cart.
GUILTY . He then
PLEADED GUILTY* † to a conviction at the Thames Police-court in September, 1888.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Friday,August 2nd, 1889.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
RICHARD HEAD . I live at Chapel House, Holloway Road, and am ground-keeper of the Chapel of Ease—Chapel Road is at the back of a row of houses in Holloway Road—about 2 a. m. on Wednesday, 17th July, I was awoke by my dog barking—I got up and went down, I saw nothing; I heard two or more men running along the top of the roof of my shed, which is my back premises—it is situated close to the churchyard—I got out; I heard two or more men jump off the roof and run in the direction of Liverpool Road—I put on my things—a police inspector and a policeman arrived, and we searched the grounds—I found King secreted behind the shrubs against the wall of the chapel—he said he just came to do a nap—the policeman took him to the station—about 9 a. m. I examined a tree right against the chapel at the Liverpool Road end, and near it I found a jemmy, which I handed over to the police.
GEORGE HOLLAND (Policeman Y 244). I was on duty at 2. 5 a. m. on 17th in the Liverpool Road, opposite the chapel—my attention was attracted by the breaking of the bough of a tree just over the churchyard, close to the prosecutor's house—I was going to cross the road when Russell jumped over the churchyard wall—as soon as he heard me he ran away—I was in uniform; I ran after him, blowing my whistle—I and another constable caught him, and he was taken to the station—he said he had been over the wall to ease himself—the wall is about twelve feet high—I went back with the inspector and searched the ground—we found King concealed under a bush—I asked him what he was doing—he said he had gone there for a sleep; he had got no home—I searched him at the station, and found on him a pocket-knife, a latchkey, and a box of matches—I examined the premises with the inspector.
JAMES YOUNG (Police Inspector Y). On Wednesday, 17th, I searched the churchyard with Holland, and found King—I afterwards searched the back of the house, 113, Holloway Road—I found the area window open—the shutters were forced, and this brick was wedged between the shutters—I roused the inmates, who came down and searched—nothing had been stolen—afterwards Head gave me this jemmy, and I found the marks on the shutters were of exactly the size of both ends of the jemmy—a hand must have been put inside to undo the shutter bar.
churchyard—when I went to bed on the night of the 16th July the servant locked up the house; I know it was locked up—the kitchen was looked up securely—the windows were all closed—next morning I was called up about five—I found police officers in the garden; they called my attention to the windows, which had been opened, and a brick inserted between the shutters—the window opens upon the area, which is lower than and adjoins the garden, which adjoins the churchyard—on the opposite side of the churchyard, 200 yards from my house, is a lofty wall—the brick had been used to stand irons on in front of my fire, and was left on the window-sill—nothing had been disturbed.
J. YOUNG (Re-examined by the COURT). The catch of the window must have been pushed back with a pocket-knife, the window opened, and then the shutters, which are inside the window, opened—there is a gate 12 feet high to the churchyard; I had difficulty in getting over it.
King, in his defence, said that he went into the churchyard to sleep;Russell said he went there for a natural purpose.
King then PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction of felony in September, 1887, and Russell † to one in September, 1888.—KING, Eighteen Months' Hard Labour ;RUSSELL, Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted. NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted, and MR. GRAIN Defended.
After the commencement of the case the Common Serjeant said that proof of exaggeration was not sufficient to make out the case. The Jury thereupon said they were satisfied it was only a case of exaggeration, and found the prisoner
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted, and MR. FULTON Defended. GUILTY on the Second Count. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. OGLE Prosecuted, and MR. FULTON Defended.
HENRY WADWELL . I am a labourer, and live at Staines Cottages, Barkingside, Ilford—on Wednesday, between eight and nine, I was standing in the Birkbeck Road, about eighteen yards from the Horns public-house, with Adam Wood, Felix Wood, Daniel O'Brien, and George Wenn—the prisoner's son was in his garden—something was said to him by some of us lads; after that the prisoner came from the skittle ground and said, "If you don't shift I'll shoot you"—he then went back
round the skittle-alley—I went about six yards away; the others stopped there—in about four or five minutes the prisoner came back—I did not see him do anything, I was looking up the road talking to two young women about eighteen yards from the prisoner; I felt something hit me on the right arm; I staggered and fell down—I was picked up by a woman and taken home, and then to the hospital, and was there five weeks all but three days—I have known the prisoner about twelve months as landlord of the Horns—there has always been good feeling between us.
Cross-examined. It was just getting dark at this time—the boys were chaffing young Delaforce about his pigeons—I used to go to the Horns sometimes, not as a regular customer—I knew young Delaforce as a comrade—there were about twenty of us boys there about my own age—we were not throwing stones at the pigeons; they were not out at the time—the prisoner came out and told us to go away; I went, the others did not—he was then about six yards away—he only told us to go away, he did not give any reason—we were not making much noise, only talking to the boy—when the prisoner came out again I was four or five yards from the others, talking to the young women—the others were standing at the side of the fence—I did not hear the report—I felt the wound.
ADAM WOOD . I am a labourer at Ilford—I was near the Horns, in company with Wadwell and others—young Delaforce was in the garden; we were chaffiing him, and he went and told his father, and he came out and told us to shift—we refused to do so—we were standing against the fence on the path; he stood at the comer of the skittle-alley, about fifteen yards from us—he then went round the comer of the skittle-alley, and we lost sight of him—in about three minutes he came back; he had a revolver in his right hand—we were not near enough to see what it was, but he held it in his hand, and pointed it straight towards us and fired—there were a rare lot of lads standing in the road—I saw a flash and heard the report—we were about fifteen yards from him then, as near as I could guess; Wadwell was about three or four yards from us—I saw him fall, and get up again and stagger three yards, and then fall again—he was picked up by two women and taken home—we ran and told Constable Gurr.
Cross-examined. I did not hear the prisoner say, "I wish it was not so far from the station, and I should be able to get the police to send you away"—we were not making much noise; we were chaffing his son—it was getting dark—the first time he came out he told us to shift—he did not say anything the second time—he stood at the comer of the skittle-alley and fired—I can't say who he aimed at.
DANIEL O'BRIEN . I am a labourer, and live in Birkbeck Road, Barkingside—I was with the other lads outside the Horns—there had been some chaffing going on with young Delaforce—he went in and told his father—the prisoner came out and said, "Are you going to shift?"—I said, "No"—we were standing on the path, not on his premises at all; we never shifted—he went inside, and came back and said, "Are you going to shift?"—we said, "No"—he said, "If you don't shift I will make you"—I saw him pull the trigger once—I could not say whether it was a revolver or a pistol—it was in his right had; I saw something shine—I heard a report—he fired through the lot of us—I saw Wadwell
fall; a woman picked him up—he was standing out in the road, and we were standing behind him, on one side.
FELIX WOOD . I live at Ilford—I was with the other lads outside the Horns—after chaffing young Delaforce, his father came out and said, "Will you shift?"—Wadwell walked out of the road—the prisoner said, "If you don't shift I will shoot you," and he disappeared somewhere—I saw him come to the comer of the skittle-alley in three or four minutes afterwards—he was about fifteen or sixteen yards from us—he did not say anything then; he immediately fired—I saw something glitter in his hand, and I saw Wadwell fall—I was standing with the others at the time—we went and fetched the constable.
GEORGE WENN . I was with the other lads outside the Horns—I saw the prisoner come out—he said, "Shift, or else I'll——"—he went back and returned—I saw he had something in his hand—I could not swear whether it was a revolver or a pistol—he said nothing then—he fired, and I saw Wadwell fall.
ERNEST JAMES REYNOLDS . I am a M. R. C. S. and L. C. P.—I was house surgeon at the London Hospital on 26th June when the prosecutor was brought there—he was suffering from a bullet wound entering the thorax through the inside of the arm—he was exceedingly faint, collapsed—it was a serious wound—he was in a somewhat dangerous condition for three days; since then he has steadily progressed towards recovery; he is quite out of danger now, but the bullet is still unextracted, and will remain so—that would be dangerous if he got ill, not otherwise—the wound might be caused by a bullet from a pistol like the one produced.
THOMAS GURR (Policeman J 71). I am stationed at Barkingside—on the evening of 26th June, about half-past nine, I was at home off duty—the four lads came to me—from what they told me I went to Wadwell's home, and saw him there lying on a sofa—from thence I went to the Horns, and saw the prisoner in the back parlour; he was very much agitated, but quite sober—I said, "You are accused of shooting Henry Wadwell"—he said, "Of what?"—I said, "Of shooting Henry Wadwell"—he said, "What with?"—I said, "They say with a revolver"—he said, "I have got no revolver, but a toy pistol belonging to my boy"—he told his boy to go and fetch it, and the boy brought this to me (produced)—it goes by a spring, and darts are shot out of it; it does not go off with gunpowder—he handed me the darts as well—I told him I should take him to the police-station, and I did so—I afterwards searched his premises, but found nothing—on the 29th June, while I was taking him to Holloway, he said he wanted to speak to me—I said if he said anything to me touching the case it would be used against him—he then said, "What I wanted to tell you was where to find the revolver, that's what it was done with, and not the toy pistol I told you at the time; but on hearing what I had done I was so terrified, and in my fright I told you it was the toy I had done it with; you will find the revolver between the w. c. and the urinal, under the tiles and slates, where I put it in my fright"—I took that down in writing, and after he signed it he said, "I am sorry I did not tell you the truth at the time, as I never intended to injure anyone, only to frighten them"—I went in search of the revolver, but did not find it at the place he mentioned—he had previously said, "If you don't find it there, speak to my boy"—I did so, and in consequence of what he told me I found it in a pond about a mile and a
quarter from the house—there was one empty cartridge case in it, and the hammer was down upon it; the rest of the chambers were not loaded.
Cross-examined. I am stationed in the neighbourhood where the prisoner lives—he has been at the Horns about two years—I always looked upon him as a respectable man—there is very often trouble with a large number of youths assembling and creating disturbance in that neighbourhood, and not only licensed victuallers, but business people have trouble with them—I know all these youths as boys about the place—the prisoner has complained to me of the difficulty in carrying on his business in consequence of disturbances by youths—the police-station is about a mile from his house.
The prisoner received a good character as a peaceable, well-conducted man.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
646. WILLIAM MORRISON (30) PLEADED GUILTY ** to stealing three jackets and other articles, the goods of Walter Spurgeon, having been convicted at Newington in March, 1879.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FULTON and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, MR. TURRELL D Defended.
GEORGE DAY . I live at Barham, near Rochester—I was working my way from New York to London on board the Denmark, which left New York on 7th June—I had a box of clothes on board, containing an overcoat, trousers, Cardigan jacket, shirts, razors, and ordinary articles of wearing apparel—among them was a memorandum-book—in my Gladstone bag I had a bottle of cod-liver oil—on the morning of the 8th I missed my box and Gladstone bag—I complained to the captain, and it was suggested it was better to wait till the vessel reached the port, and no search was made at that time—when the vessel reached London the prisoner, by my direction, was stopped at the gate, leaving the vessel with his bag—the bag was searched, and this memorandum-book was produced from it in his presence—I had made a statement of the contents of my box to the officer of the ship—when the book was found I said that just inside the first leaf there was "price 6d. "in it—I said before they took it out that it was a red book with a little gold rim round the inside, and that it had a mark where I had spilt some condensed milk on it on the voyage out—I identified this as my property—I bought it at Bunston's, Wheat Street, Maidstone, about five miles from my home, before I went out to America—I bought at the same time a Bible, which I had in my pocket—the prisoner was very abusive at being stopped—he was not detained, but I got permission to search his bunk, and there I found this bottle of cod-liver oil; it is mine; there is the name of "Rowcroft, Family Chemist, Maidstone," from whom I bought it, on it—inside is a piece of floating cork, and my bottle had a piece which I had forced in—the prisoner said ho bought the memoranaum
book at Stratford, and that he bought the cod-liver oil in Tottenham Court Road, and it was a lotion he had for his leg—I saw a rug found in his bag at the same time; it is not my property—the prisoner said he bought that in Petticoat Lane.
Cross-examined. I left England on 4th May—I paid my passage out, and worked it coming back—I was rather short of money—I found it difficult to get employment there, and so returned—I took all my articles from England with me—I produce no other articles; they are all I have been able to trace—I value the rest of my goods at about £8—I fancied I saw the book when he turned his bag out in his bunk, but he would not give me an opportunity to look at it then.
Re-examined. That was after we got to the docks—I described the book at the dock gates, before I saw it, to Wilcox, and told him 6d. was marked inside—I cannot give the number of Bunston's shop.
CHRISTOPHER WILCOX . I am a plain-clothes dock policeman—on Saturday, 22nd June, about 11. 30, the prisoner and Day came up to the Royal Albert Dock gate, where I was stationed—Day said, "I have reason to think that this man has got some property of mine in his bag, and I wish you to search it; I have lost my clothes on the voyage from New York"—I said, "Very well"—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what this man says; we shall have to search your bag"—he said, "It has already been searched"—I found a book on searching—Day said, "That is my property"—the prisoner said, "No, it is my property; there is sixpence marked in it"—Day said, "I know there is a sixpence in it; there are other marks I can identify"—I said, "All right, you had better not say any more at present; we will see if there is anything else"—the prisoner turned out the remainder of his bag, and Day identified a rug as having been stolen from the ship on the voyage out—in it were grass seeds; it had evidently been in hay or fodder—the prisoner said, "That rug I bought in Petticoat Lane; I have also a witness to prove I did buy it there"—I said to him, "Ishall have to take you to the station"—the inspector at the dock station told me to take the things back to the chief officer of the ship—at the station Day pointed out to the inspector the milk stains on the book-cover, from the tin of condensed milk that he had in his box on the voyage out, and also a gold beading round one side—the prisoner in answer said, "I have bought this in Stratford"—I spoke to the officer at the ship, and then searched the prisoner's bunk—I found a sack of maize—Day found this bottle of oil on a shelf over the prisoner's bunk—afterwards I went to the engineer's store-room, which the prisoner had had charge of—it was locked up at this time—I found there four sacks containing maize—that would not be the proper place for com to be stored—as far as I know the prisoner would not have anything to do with corn on the vessel—when arrested he said the bottle of oil was a lotion for his leg, and it contained carbolic.
Cross-examined. The conversation about the book was in the office; the book was there—the prisoner volunteered to turn out his bag; I took the book out and wrapped it in the rug, and took it and placed it in front of the inspector—I believe Day said he lost it out of a tin box on the voyage home, twelve hours after leaving New York—the vessel is used for taking cattle from America to England—this is a carefully kept ship—the cargo was in the hold, and the fodder on deck—it had
1,000 quarters of corn—the prisoner had charge of the engineer's store room, where lamps, oil, cotton, are kept—he is a very handy man—the engineer's stores do not include corn.
FREDERICK FORTH (Detective K). At half-past ten on 25th June I saw the prisoner at West Ham Lane—I said, "I am a police officer, I shall take you into custody for stealing some clothes from the ship Denmark, some of which have been found"—he said, "What has been found?"—I said, "At the bottom of a bunk; no doubt you will be further charged with stealing some com, which formed part of the ship's cargo"—he said, "The chief steward gave me the bag"—I had not mentioned a bag—I took him to North Woolwich by train—on the way he said, "The lotion in that bottle was what I dress my leg with"—I made this note as soon as I got to the police-station—at the station, after making inquiries, I said to the prisoner, "You will also be charged with stealing the com"—he said, "I never had it in my possession; I never took it off the ship; someone must have put it there;" and pointing to Mr. Ross, the chief steward, he said, "You gave me that bag—that was the bag containing maize—"You told me to take it to your house"—Mr. Ross replied, "I only gave you about a fourth part of the bag"—pointing to the bottle of cod-liver oil the prisoner said, "That is my lotion; there is carbolic acid in it, and it was for dressing my leg; I bought it and a large bottle in Tottenham Court Road"—pointing to the book he said, "I bought this in Stratford"—I searched and found on him a knife, a pocket-book, and 14s., less 1/2 d.—he said as to the pocket-book, "I bought that where I bought the other one"—there is no name in it—I have made inquiries at all the book-shops in Stratford—I have not seen in Stratford books similar to this—I heard Day's statement as to the oil and book.
Cross-examined. I cannot say if the prisoner had a bad leg—the vessel was nicely whitewashed when I saw it; but I cannot say if things were always kept in their places—I have seen books like this elsewhere than at Stratford—I told the prisoner I should search his house; he said, "Yes; I should like you to do so"—I did not search it, on account of his wife—I searched the kitchen, but no other part; I satisfied myself.
JOSEPH MOFFAT . I am chief officer of the Denmark, a British ship voyaging between this country and America—in the ordinary course complaints would be made to me if anything were lost on board—on the voyage out Ziegland complained about a rug—he was taking horses out to New York—he slept on hay to watch the horses at night—at the docks Wilcox brought me this book and this rug, which was full of hay seeds; it appeared to be new and perfectly clean—on the Monday after we got into dock, the prisoner asked me if I had the rug and book—I told him I had—he claimed them as his—I said I could not give them up—he subsequently said he had bought the rug in Petticoat Lane, and paid 3s. 6d. for it, and that he had been using it for three voyages—when I refused to deliver up the rug and book, he said he should prosecute me—I have not been prosecuted—at the North Woolwich Police-station, when he was charged, he said he had got a bag of maize from Mr. Ross, the chief steward, who had asked him to drop it at his door on his way home—Ross said he had given him about a quarter of a bag of maize, and that he took it from him from the bar towards the engine-room—the vessel coming back from
America was laden with a general cargo, and 1,200 tons of maize and 190 cattle—the maize was cargo entirely, and not to feed the cattle with—the maize found in the engine-room is similar to the cargo—it is threshed out, and is different to the fodder, which is in the husk—about two bags were consumed on the voyage.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said he should apply for a summons to get the things from me—I did not detain them—he went before Mr. Baggallay, and applied—I found the maize in the engine-room—I did not ask him about it—he has been on my vessel about 15 months as engineer's storekeeper—I always understood he had a good character—he had a bad leg on one side—I don't know if he used lotion for it.
By the JURY. We have 52 men, including stokers, on board, and there were also about 19 men in charge of the cattle—some of them were working their passage over—I know of no disagreement between Day and the prisoner on the voyage over—I was on the bridge a good deal.
WILLIAM GEORGE MCDOWELL . I live at 5, Howard Road, Plaistow, and I am a dock superintendent of the National Steamship Company—the s. s. Denmark is on the register as a British ship, of the Port of Liverpool—she arrived on 22nd June—I took samples of the com with which she was laden—I have compared that sample with com shown me by Forth; they axe the same, with the exception that the corn shown me by Forth was a little dirtier and fluffier, and had a little more husk than that out of the hold—corn cleans itself with the motion of the vessel, it works down; so that com taken from the hold at an early part of the voyage would not be so dean as com taken from the same place at the end of the voyage; there would be a certain amount of fine husk with it.
Cross-examined. We allow men to work their passage on board our vessels; we call them deadheads; there were twelve or fourteen at this time—the shippers of the cattle know something of them, and the shippers ship regularly year after year.
JULIAN LAMBERT LAVER . I live at 29, Wheat Street, Maidstone, and am an apprentice to Mr. Bunston, stationer, there—this book is out of our shop—I wrote this pencil mark 6d. inside it—this Bible was also sold at our shop—I do not remember the man to whom I sold them, but I remember selling the Bible.
Cross-examined. We have only had one Bible like this since I have been there with them, and therefore I can say this is it—I do not remember selling the note-book; we have a considerable number of them in stock; I did not sell many—it is rather an uncommon note-book—I saw them there when I first went to the shop, about two years ago—I do not know of any other stationers in Maidstone who sell them.
Re-examined. This is another note-book like that (produced) from our shop, with 6d., my writing, in it.
ALFRED JOSEPH MAKEPEACE . I live at Wood Grange, Forest Gate, and am a registered chemist—I have examined the contents of this bottle, labelled cod-river oil, and I find that it contains cod-liver oil—I could not detect the slightest trace of carbolic acid, which has a very characteristic smell—a bottle of carbolic acid should have "Poison" on it—I never heard of carbolic acid being mixed with cod-liver oil as a lotion.
Cross-examined. I have not heard of cod-liver oil being used alone as a lotion; X have mixed it with other things as a lotion sometimes—carbolic
acid does not evaporate; it is not of a volatile nature, and I do not think the smell would get less if the cork were left out—you could always detect it by its smell, if weak or strong—if it were put into cod-liver oil in a crystallised form it would not dissolve, if in the liquid form it would make the oil cloudy; this is bright—the degree of cloudiness would depend on the amount of carbolic and the amount of oil—I have only tried the one test mentioned in the British Pharmacopœia.
Re-examined. I do not think the smell of the acid would evaporate; if it did the cloudiness would remain because of the water—the oil answered the test of pure cod-liver oil—I put a few drops of the oil on a slab, and added a drop of pure sulphuric acid; it gave a violet colour, turning to brown, which is the sign of pure cod-liver oil—if there had been any smell of carbolic acid it would have come off with the sulphuric acid.
MARINUS ZIEGLAND . I am in the employment of William Ockhurst, a horse dealer—I went in the s. s. Denmark from London to New York in charge of some of his horses, sailing on 16th May—one night I slept near the horses, and next night another lad did—I was provided with a rug by my master when I sailed; I slept on it—about three days before I got to New York I missed the rug—I had last seen it in my cabin—the boy used the rug as well as I—when we slept at night near the horses we slept on the hay, and covered ourselves with the rug—I complained that the rug could not be found—I did not see it again till this morning—this is my rug—I have had it two or three years, I think—I know it is mine by the fat and dirty marks and hay seeds in it, and it is broken at the comers, and there are holes in the corners like this—the stripes are the same colour—we have many rugs at home.
Cross-examined. I have had this rug three years or longer, and used it constantly; it was used for anything, horses and travelling; it is a horsecloth—I used it for myself sometimes—it would get these hay and straw marks in ordinary use—we often put holes in the corner.
Re-examined. When there is a draft we make holes in the corners, and fasten up a rug to keep the horses out of the draft.
JOHN WILLIAM GREEN . I am a fruit salesman, at West Garford, Leeds—I was on board this vessel when she came from New York—I saw Day's box safe on 7th June—I heard the prisoner say to Gribble, a man who came on the boat, that these things would be perfectly safe where they were—Gribble has since gone to Australia—I saw the prisoner stopped when the vessel reached London at the docks—I heard Day, in the prisoner's presence, say he could tell his book by a 6d. mark in it—the prisoner told Day he would knock his d—d head off, and give him six months for defamation of character—I was there when the bottle of oil was found.
Cross-examined. I have known Day about six weeks—I first met him on board—I was working my passage across by looking after cattle—I gave the prisoner my clothes to take care of; he gave them back to me—he did not say he would not be responsible for them if they were lost, or if they were left any longer, or anything of the kind; he did not warn me they might be lost.
belonging to Gribble, who was in the same position as myself, working his way out by looking after cattle—the sack was tied up with string—that was the last I saw of my bag—Gribble has gone with other cattle to Australia.
Witness for the Defence.
Cross-examined. I was at the Police-court when the case was on—the prisoner was represented by a solicitor, whom I told I was with the prisoner when he bought the rug—I was not called as a witness—it was three trips ago he bought the rug, at the end of January or beginning of February—a trip lasts a week or ten days—he bought it off a barrow in Petticoat Lane—I know it by the stripes and border—I said, "It will do right for you this time, as it was cold last time"—he wanted it to cover him in his bunk—he was storekeeper—I saw it in use on each voyage except the last, when it was too hot to use it—he kept it at the foot of his bunk when it was not in use—I never examined it enough to know if it had holes in it—I won't swear this was the rug he bought—I am no relation of the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for stealing maize, upon which no evidence was given. NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. JONES Prosecuted,MR. LAWLESS Defended.
JOHN HERBERT GOULD . I am a corn merchant, of Bow, trading with my brother—the prisoner was our traveller, at 10s. a week salary and one third of the profit of the business he brought in—he had been in my service when I was with Mr. Haslam, with whom I dissolved partnership in March this year, and the prisoner continued on the same terms—the Guarantee Society were security for him—I wrote to him on June 18th, and he came on the 20th—I went through his commission account, and found £5 6s. 3d. was due to him—I was present when he paid two amounts to Thomas Haslam, the cashier—I had some conversation with him, which resulted in his discharge—I wrote to him on June 20th, and received this letter containing an account—so far as I know he has never paid in or accounted for any of these amounts in this list prepared by himself—he had no authority to retain any part of an amount received by him—he would not come in at all, and that is why I discharged him—he had no right to deduct his commission, I always paid it to him, and the cashier always took the other money—we call it commission, but it was not commission that he had—there may have been some salary due to him at that time; we were just clearing it up when he went out of the office.
Cross-examined. I was in partnership with Haslam first—he had £100 a year as managing partner—the prisoner had a horse and trap, which he used in the business—the prisoner had one-third of the profits, and shared one-sixth of the bad debts, but this share of the bad debts was never enforced—he was not entitled when he was short of money to carry on the business, to keep money from customers and apply it to purposes
of the business—he kept back half-a-crown once; that is the only instance I know of—my clerk would know if he had any more—sometimes he received money from customers in instalments; he was authorised to do that—when I saw him on 20th June he had not been attending to the business for weeks before—I had not given him a week's notice, because I was away for my holidays in June—I had written to him before, and told him to come in—I cannot say he was neglecting the business for many weeks, but he did not pay—I did not know he was doing business for others; I asked him at last, and he said he was not—£10 was lent to him to buy the pony and trap—I don't know what they cost; I should not think they cost much more; he might have paid £1 or £2—I won't swear he did not pay £10—he rendered an account every two days—I have only been managing partner for two months—on July 5 I commenced criminal proceedings—he still claims commission out of the profits—I received a letter containing this passage: "I shall certainly not take any more orders for you from my customers, nor shall I accept any more money from them"—I did not answer that—10s. a week was not for his travelling expenses, but for salary—he contended at the Police-court that it was for expenses—he had to keep the pony; we told him not to have it; we said he would do it cheaper without; but he knew best—I gave Mr. Haslam notice of dissolution of partnership, and said to the prisoner, "You will talk of these notices to your customers, you know all about it"—he said, "I do."
Re-examined. He kept on the same as before—if he received instalments he should have paid them in, not kept them till he received the whole amount—he travelled in London and the suburbs—he lived at Stoke Newington, so that he could always come every two days.
THOMAS WILLIAM MARSHALL . I live at 40, Lordship Road, Stoke Newington, and am a jobmaster—I deal with Gould Bros.—on 6th June I paid the prisoner £3, and a week or ten days afterwards I paid him £3 7s. 2d., I believe—I paid him two sums together, making £6 7s. 2d., within a week or ten days.
J. H. GOULD (Re-examined By MR. LAWLESS). I last paid the prisoner money early in May, I believe, because he did not come in—the pony and trap were his absolute property, which he could use as he pleased.
THOMAS HASLAM . I live at Mornington Road, Bow, and am clerk and cashier to Gould Bros.—the prisoner always accounted to me—I entered the moneys in his presence in the firm's cash-book (produced)—on 12th June he accounted for £14 2s. 6d. from E. Freeman, of Tyson Road, and £3 from Thomas Marshall—I asked him, as it was my usual practice to do, if he had any more—he said, "No; there are not any more"—on 20th June the next payments were made—I believe Mr. Gould was in the office at the time—the prisoner paid in on that day £2 16s. from J. Freeman, of Victoria Grove, and £7 10s. from T. Diggens—that was before he went in to Mr. Gould—he did not say when he had received those two sums—I asked him if there were any other amounts—he said, "No"—I have gone through the books; I do not see that he has accounted for £3 7s. 2d. from Marshall, £3 4s. 6d. from Church, £3 17s. 6d. from Lambert, £1 0s. 3d. from Buder, £3 from Snowing, £1 from E. Freeman, £4 5s. 6d. from Anthony, £3 16s. 6d. from Bartlett, or £7 7s. 6d. from Freshwater.
Cross-examined. He was transacting business for the firm till 20th June—he was not in the habit of using money collected from customers, for business expenses with the partners' knowledge; I think he did so on two occasions—I won't swear he did not on more than two occasions.
Re-examined. They were sums of not more than ten shillings.
The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments for embezzlements and also for misdemeanours upon which no evidence was offered.— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY of an indecent assault — Six Months' Hard labour.
employed at chemical works—I have been separated from my wile for some time by mutual agreement, not a judicial separation—we had two children, the deceased boy Sidney and a girl Mary Ann—Mrs. Amelia Winters was my aunt; she lived at 153, Church Street, Deptford—the prisoner is Mrs. Winters' daughter; she married Thomas Frost—in 1887 Mrs. Winters took charge of my two children, at my request, for 10s. a week, and they went to live with her at 153, Church Street—the prisoner lived next door, at 155—Mrs. Winters agreed to insure my children, and it has since come to my knowledge that my son was insured in the Prudential Insurance Office, and also in the Liverpool Victoria Friendly Society—Mrs. Greenaway is the prisoner's sister and my first cousin—I often saw my son at Mrs. Winters'—he had very good health up to Christmas last, but after that he had diarrhœa and vomiting; he died on February 11th—I had been at Mrs. Winters' on the 9th, but I did not see the prisoner—I last saw her about February 8th—on the 16th, the day of the funeral, I accompanied Mr. Baker, of the Prudential Office, to Mrs. Winters. Mr. Coleman and Mr. Cremer from the insurance office were present.
Cross-examined. I consented to his life being insured—I did not know the amount—I signed a document, and was paid £7 by Mr. Baker; Mrs. Winters was present—she got £3, and I got £7—the cheque was for £10—the prisoner was not present—she cannot read or write—I do not know that she has the reputation of being rather weak-minded—I paid one premium—I paid for the funeral out of the £71 got—I was insured in the office, but the policy has lapsed—I certified myself as the father—the cheque was paid to Mrs. Winters; I did not see it; I was told how much it was—on the day that the boy died Mrs. Winters told me that she had missed paying, and the premium had run out—I was discovered to be alive, and sought out on February 16th by the representatives of the Prudential Company, and accompanied them to 153, Church Street, and saw Mrs. Winters, and learnt that she had refunded the money she had received.
WALTER EDWIN MARTTN . I am chief clerk in the claim department of the Prudential Insurance Company—this form of proposal was sent to the office about 31st January, 1888, purporting to come from the boy Sidney Bolton, proposing an insurance of £10 on his life, at a weekly payment of 1d.—only half was to be paid in the event of his dying within twelve months—we accepted that, and on 13th February issued this policy (produced) which is strictly in accordance with the terms of the proposal—on 3rd April, 1888, we received this second form of proposal from the same person for the same sum, and on 23rd April this second policy was issued to the boy under the same conditions—the premiums were regularly paid down to February 11th this year; it is not true that the policy lapsed—about February 12th I received this claim from my agent, and believed it to be genuine, purporting to be by the mother of the deceased boy—there are several questions which have to be answered, and she does answer them—she says that the mother is living, and that they are insured in our office and another office—it is signed, "Sarah Bolton, her mark; witness, Emma Greenaway"—we require a certificate of identity, which I find is signed, "Emma Greenaway; witness, W. Coleman"—it says, "I not being a relation of the deceased"—that is one of the rules of the office—I believed it was genuine, and caused this cheque
to be drawn and forwarded to our agent, Mr. Coleman, on 12th February, and received a receipt from him about the 13th or 14th—I believed that, to be signed by Sarah Bolton, the mother of the deceased—it was witnessed by Mrs. Frost—we had an idea then that he was the husband, but afterwards we soon discovered that the father was alive, and that the information in the claim that the mother was the sole surviving parent was not true—the father came to Mr. Baker, our superintendent—we had an interview with Mr. Baker, after which we received these two documents, dated 16th February—fourteen policies, including these two, were payable at 153, Church Street, Deptford, and 5s. 3d. was the weekly amount claimed there.
WILLIAM COLEMAN . I have been agent for the Prudential Insurance Company since December 3rd, 1883, and live at 25, Edward Street, Deptford—I have been in the habit of calling weekly at 153, Church Street, to collect the premiums due to the company—Mrs. Winters usually paid them, but sometimes the prisoner did—I claimed 5s. a week when I started, and then it increased to 5s. 3d.—among the premiums there was 1d. a week on each of two policies in the name of Sidney Bolton, and on February 11th I received notice of his death, and called that evening at Mrs. Winters', and saw her and the prisoner and Mrs. Greenaway—we went into the back room—a light was procured—I placed this form of claim on the table—Mrs. Winters had told me at my house that the father was dead, so I said, "Which is the mother?"—Mrs. Winters pointed to the prisoner, and said, "This is the mother"—I said, "Are you the mother?"—she said, "I am"—I filled up the claim by putting questions to the prisoner, and writing down the answers—I said, "I want your name on this paper"—she said, "I cannot write"—here is printed on the claim: "The person claiming has attained the age of twenty-one years, and is the mother of the deceased," and another question is, "Are the deceased's parents alive?"—I filled in "The mother"—"Are there brothers or sisters of the deceased living?"—I put in "Sister"—I got that information from the mother—"Was she insured in any other company or society?"—I put that question, and the answer was "No"—it then states: "I do hereby declare that I am the holder of the policy, etc., and as the mother of the deceased I claim payment to me of the said policy, 11th February, 1889"—when she said that she could not write, I referred to the Registrar's certificate of the boy's death, and said, "You have got your mark on here?"—she said, "Yes"—I asked her name—she said, "Sarah Bolton "; and I wrote it down, and "153, Church Street, Deptford"; and asked her to make a cross at the end of the name, which she did, with a pen—I asked Mrs. Winters for a witness to the signature; she said she could not write, and beckoned Mrs. Greenaway forward, who wrote her name as a witness; she had been there all the time, and heard what took place—I asked for a witness to the identity of the deceased, who was not a relative, and Mrs. Winters again beckoned Mrs. Greenaway—I said, "Are you a relative of the deceased?"—she said, "No"—I was not aware that she was the prisoner's sister—I produce the certificate of identity—it begins, "I, not being a relative of the deceased"—it is signed "Emma Greenaway," and she filled in the address," 53, Reginald Road, Deptford"—I received from Mrs. Winters two policies and the register of death and the premium receipt-book, and forwarded them to
the head office, from whence I afterwards received a cheque for £10 and a form of receipt—on 13th February I went to the house and saw the prisoner and Mrs. Winters—I wrote her name down on the receipt, and said, "As you cannot write, before you make your cross I must have a witness"—I read the letter and the claim-form to them, and said to Mrs. Winters, "The father is dead"—she said, "Yes"—the prisoner said, "He has been dead six months," and Mrs. Winters said, "Nearly seven"—when I asked for a witness, Mrs. Winters went into the passage and said to a little girl, "Go and fetch Tom," and in ten minutes the girl brought a man in, and I said, "I want you to witness this mark"—the mark was made, and the man signed "Thomas Frost"—the cheque was lying on the table, and I left it there—I believed her name to be Sarah Bolton, and that she was the mother of the deceased—the payment of 4d. on February 11 was made to me by Mrs. Winters at the time I had the policy and the premium receipt-book given to me.
Cross-examined. I got the information from the father on Friday, the 15th—I met him at Mr. Cremer's house.
By the JURY. When the prisoner paid me the money I was not aware that her name was Frost—I did not know her name till she told me it was Sarah Bolton, and it was two weeks before I found out who she was, though I had been collecting there six months—I only saw her two or three times; on the other times Mrs. Winters paid me the money—I did not know Mr. Frost when he was called in to witness.
SARAH BOLTON . I am the wife of James Samuel Bolton, and the mother of the deceased—I have been living apart from my husband for some years—I used to go to see my boy at his great aunt's, at 153, Church Street—he died on February 11—I had insured his life—the signature to this claim and this registrar's certificate are not mine; I know nothing about them—about two years ago I saw Mrs. Winters in High Street, and she spoke about insurance—I said that I would have nothing to do with it.
MR. MATHEWS proposed to put in the prisoner's evidence taken at the inquest on the deceased, but the RECORDER considered that as the prisoner was not a voluntary witness, she was under coercion, which would exclude her deposition. He had argued a similar case thirty-five years ago, when defending a person for murder, and Lord Truro had decided in his favour. Upon this MR. MATHEWS did not press the evidence.
HENRY PHILLIPS . (Police Inspector R). I saw the prisoner at the station on 22nd July—I told her she would be charged with forging a document for the payment of money, with intent to defraud the Prudential Insurance Company—she made no reply.
There were three other charges against the prisoner on the Coroner's In quisitions, which were postponed to next Sessions.— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
652. WILLIAM WEAR (27) and JOHN DAVIS (24) , Feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Mary Adams, and stealing six spoons. Second Count, receiving the same. DAVIS PLEADED GUILTY to entering the house and stealing the property.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
was shut and on the latch at five minutes to three—at three o'clock I went into the kitchen and saw a man there sorting my spoons—he ran out of the door; I could not recognise him—he had moved the spoons, which had been in an open plate basket on the dresser; he dropped them on the floor—I called out, "Stop thief!" or something of that sort, and followed him; I saw Horatio Payne follow him—the plate basket has no lid; it stands on the dresser—a few teaspoons were silver, the rest were plated.
Cross-examined by Wear. I came to the Police-station to identify you—I looked at the fourteen or fifteen men, and could not identify any one—I said, "I can't identify the men; I should not know them again"—I said, "The man at the end of the row looks more like the man than any other here, but I cannot swear to him"—that was not you—I saw Mr. Payne catch the man that I followed.
HORATIO PAYNE . I live at 4, Eveline Road, Forest Hill, close to 119, Devonshire Road—on 28th May, at three o'clock, I heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I ran out and saw Wear running up the road—Miss Adams, who was calling "Stop thief!" was twenty yards behind me—I ran in between them from the other side of the road—it was broad daylight—I followed Wear, and I caught him about the middle of a field into which he turned—I had a knife in my hand—he saw it, and asked me what I was going to do with it—I said, "Never mind what I am going to do with it"—he said, "What are you following me for?"—I said, "For a little affair down the road"—I told him to come back—he said he knew nothing about it—I asked him why he ran away—he said because somebody cried out after him, I believe—my mother had followed me up to the fence of the field, and she screamed out—the prisoner whistled, and Jones and Davis joined him—I believe they had followed after me—Jones was convicted at Greenwich Police—court for being concerned with two others in this offence—Wear said, "You had better leave me alone"—he offered to let me search him—he said, "You had better take your b——y hook, or it will be the worse for you"—they then ran down the field, jumped a gate, and went into Manor Road, all three together—I was about ten yards behind them—I shouted "Stop thief!" and followed them about a quarter of a mile to Queen's Road, keeping the three in sight all the way, except when they turned a corner, and then I saw them again directly after—when I got into Walden-shaw Road, opposite Queen's Road, a coachman named Leishman came to my assistance from another direction and caught Wear—the other two ran up Queen's Road, a blind road—Wear was handed over to six or seven men there, among whom was Christmas, and I followed Jones and Davis over enclosed ground—a policeman found Jones lying down; I don't know where Davis went to, I could not detain him—some few weeks ago I went to the Police-station—I saw eight men there, I think—I picked out Wear and Davis at once—I had had a good look at him at the bottom of Queen's Road, and noticed his face was angular; he had no beard then; it has grown since—I have no doubt whatever he is the man I saw running in front of Miss Adams.
Cross-examined by Wear. I touched each of you on the shoulder—I might have pointed with my stick first, but afterwards I walked down the line and touched you both.
opposite the Queen's Road—I saw Davis, Wear, and Jones running towards me, and I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" from either Mr. Christmas or Mr. Payne—I saw Mr. Payne at the top of Waldenshaw Road, 60 or 70 yards behind the prisoners—Jones and Davis were running together, and one or either of them was saying, "Look sharp, we will catch them round the corner"—Jones was convicted at the Police-court—I ran across the road, and stopped Wear, and caught hold of him, and I think I said, "I will stop you for sneaking "; that is a polite word for stealing—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I caught hold of him, and we walked together to the Queen's Road—I held him there against the wall for a few minutes—he said, "What is the good of holding me; I have done nothing; let me go"—I said, "No," at first—he said, "Let me go, I will be quiet till the police come; search me"—I said, "I won't search you; I will take your word for it"—I believe Payne and Christmas were behind—I asked Christmas and some other men if they would look after Wear while I ran after the other men—I went on, and in a bush at the top of Queen's Road I caught hold of Jones, who was lying down with Davis—I told Davis to get up; we had a scuffle; he kicked me in the privates; I had a bruise for three weeks; no sooner had he kicked me than he lifted me up with his right and left hands under my jaw—I retaliated—Davis got off; Jones got away, but was caught very soon afterwards—I afterwards saw the prisoners in the police-yard—I am certain they are the men; I know Wear by his eyes and his side whiskers—he had no beard then.
Cross-examined by Wear. You walked across the road with me—I know you by the scar by your eye.
EDWARD CHARLES CHRISTMAS . I live at 49, Dartmouth Road, Forest Hill, and am a builder—on the 28th May I was working at a front gate in Waldenshaw Road, when three men ran past me, followed by Payne, who was crying "Stop thief!"—I recognise Wear—I followed in the chase, and Leishman stopped Wear at the corner of Queen's Road—Leishman said, "You stop with this man; I will go after the other two"—I stopped with Wear some ten minutes—there were several bystanders—no one would assist to hold the man, but all wanted to know what he had done; I did not know—Wear said, "What have I done to you, Charlie? I am going"—I had never seen him before—I did not want to have a struggle and get hurt, and he walked away, and then took to his heels and ran—I followed, and caught Jones—I went at the beginning of July to the Police—station, and saw ten or twelve men in the court-yard—I stood on the top step, and when I first looked at the men I could not recognise them, but immediately they moved I recognised Wear—his beard had grown since I saw him before, and his clothes were different—I said, "That is the man, I am positive"—I have no doubt he is the man—at the station he said the detectives had told me who was the man; they had not.
Cross-examined by Wear. Immediately you moved from the men I recognised you—you opened your mouth, and you had lost a tooth, and I recognised that distinctly, in the front—you had a beard at the station I knew you by your speech as well—I held you for a quarter of an hour—I was not assisted in identifying you in the least—I had been in a private room—you had no beard when I first saw you.
of rough companions—when I got him to the station I told him he would be charged with housebreaking at Sydenham on 28th May—he made no reply—I was at the station when Payne and Christmas pointed out Wear—Payne did so immediately—no one assisted him—he brandished his stick first, and Simpson said, "Touch the men," and he touched the two prisoners there were eight others besides the prisoners—Christmas said, "I don't think there are any of the men there—I was away from them—Simpson and the Inspector said, "You may go now; bring the men in," and directly they moved Christmas said, "That is the man," pointing to Wear—there was a description on which I arrested them.
Cross-examined by Wear. Payne moved off the doorstep—I swear he touched you and the other prisoner—I did not say "You have let your sideboard whiskers grow"—when I apprehended you you had a slight beard then; two or three weeks' growth, I should think; they have grown much better since—I do not remember coming to your place two years ago to take you on suspicion of being a deserter, and looking at your discharge.
Re-examined. When I first arrested the prisoner in the house there were a lot of roughs there, and I said, "I shall take you on suspicion of being a deserter"—at the station I charged him with this offence.
Davis, in the statement before the Magistrate, said he and Jones went into the house, and another man stood outside; that Wear was not there, and that he had not seen him for four weeks.
Wear said he was not there.
Witnesses for Wear.
HENRY FOSTER . I am a chimney sweep, of 17, Tower Street, West-minster Bridge Road—on 28th May you were with me from half-past twelve in the day till half-past twelve at night, chimney sweeping—you never left me that day, and I am sure you were not concerned in this charge; you were not at Forest Hill that day—the scar on your forehead was done on Derby Day, 28th May, by your wife with a knife.
Cross-examined. 28th May was Tuesday—I believe that Wear was taken about a fortnight after the 28th—I did not go to the Police-station, though I knew what he was doing on 28th—I was first asked to come here about a week ago by his wife, who told me he was locked up—I said I could prove he was not locked up on 28th—I knew about the middle of June he was locked up—I never went to the police or gave information—his wife came to me a fortnight after 28th May, and told me he was charged—I did nothing—I knew he was at the Police-court—she said, "You know you can prove he was sweeping chimneys with you on that day"—the 28th May was the only day he was with me—I gave him three shillings—I keep books; I have not brought them here—I am a master sweep—I have not employed the prisoner previously or since.
By the JURY. I swept sixty-three chimneys on that day—I am sure of the date, because the prisoner was with me on that day—I had different work to do on certain days—I could give the names of the people I swept the chimneys for—I daresay they would come here if they were subpoenaed.
HENRY JONES . I am a labourer; I live at common lodging-houses; last night I slept at Albert Chambers, Gravel Lane—on 28th May Davis and another man were with me, you were not—I was charged with this offence—I was locked up on 28th, and on the 29th at Greenwich I was
tried; I was remanded three times, and then I got a month—I came out on 18th July, and heard a man was locked up for this offence, and I have come to clear him—Davis was with me in the house, but I don't know you; you are a perfect stranger to me—I have never seen you and Davis together.
Cross-examined. I don't know the name of the man not in custody—he had a basket on his arm, and he got away, and I and Davis had to fly for it—Wear had no more to do with it than you had—I knew on my liberation on 18th July that Wear was charged—I did not go to the Police-court because I thought I might get into trouble, so I came here—I and Davis went into the kitchen—Davis took the basket and handed me the contents, and he went back for something—the third man was outside—two women came out of the house—we got the contents and run with it as far as we could, and then threw it away—we had several people after us—I carried the biggest portion—we did not take the silver basket, but the contents; the other man had an arm basket—I threw the silver away after carrying it in my trousers' pocket—this is the first time in my life I ever saw Wear—I knew by his missus he was here; I know her; she gave me a description of him, and I went and saw Davis in Holloway—I don't know that Davis and Wear are brothers—I never heard it—Wear's missus told me a man was in custody for the same thing I was implicated in, and if I would be kind enough to come up on his behalf and speak what I knew she would be much obliged to me—I knew by the description she gave me it was not the man who was with me—from the description I came prepared to say I did not know this man—she did not say if he had a beard; she said he was a very dark man, slightly built, and I should see him with the other man in the dock; and she gave me a description of his coat—when I was under remand at Greenwich Police-court she brought me food.
By the Prisoner. It was unbeknown to you.
H. FOSTER (Re-examined by the JURY). The man I swept the chimneys for was Mr. Bill, builder, Westminster Road—I can do a chimney in eight minutes if I have a man with me to collect the soot—I had a meal.
Wear, in his defence, said he knew nothing of the matter; he was working for Mr. Foster on 28th May.
GUILTY . They then both PLEADED GUILTY to conviction of felony at this Court in October, 1887; Wear in the name of Croucher, Davis in that of John Wear.—WEAR** Five Years' Penal Servitude ; DAVIS* Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROOTH prosecuted.
GERTRUDE PHILLIPS . I live at 12, Casella Road, New Cross, and am employed by Mr. Snow, at 609, New Kent Road—on Saturday, 13th July, at 9 p.m., I was coming up from supper through the dining-room and stock-room—the prisoner came after me into the stock-room, where all the stock for the shop is kept—she had no right to be there—she is the prosecutor's servant—the kitchen is her province—I left that room, and as I went into the shop I heard something go "bang"—I saw this piece
of Astrachan at the Police-station—I bought it myself—I saw it lying in the stock-room on Friday, the 12th, and after that I saw it downstairs in a basket—I did not see it on the day I saw the prisoner in the stock-room.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were not going to call Mr. Snow to his meal—you were not not in the habit of doing so—I have never been called a thief.
ALICE HODGES . I was the prosecutor's housemaid two months—I have since left—on 13th July, about 9.30, the prisoner, who had been out on errands, came in not bringing anything, and asked if Mr. Snow had had his supper—she went upstairs—when she came down into the kitchen she had this piece of Astrachan in her hand—she said, "I have made a snatch; this will do to trim your cloak"—I thought she meant she had stolen it—I did not answer her—as I would not have anything to do with it, she put it into the clothes-basket under the table, where it would not be seen—soon after the young ladies came down, and I attended to them, and that put it out of my mind—after they had done supper one of them went to the basket to get some clean linen, and found the Astrachan there—they all asked how it came there—I said nothing—the prisoner said, "I don't know how it came there"—it was taken upstairs—Mr. Snow afterwards asked me how it came there, and I told him—the prisoner was very much under the influence of drink—she told me she was housekeeper, but really she was general servant; there was no housekeeper.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said nothing about it at the time, because I knew you were drunk, and you had not been unkind to me, and I thought when you were sober you might take it up again, and if not I intended to tell about it—my mother came to see me; she told me you sent her out for a half-quartern of gin, and I fetched some more afterwards.
JOHN SNOW . I am a draper and milliner, at 607 and 609, Old Kent Road—on Saturday, 13th July, about twelve o'clock a boy brought me this roll of about twenty-five yards of Astrachan, value 18s., which I had previously seen in one of my stock-rooms—I recognised it as part of my stock; it is an unusual pattern—the prisoner was engaged as general servant, but she had to undertake the duties of housekeeper as well, and assist in the house—Hodges was a servant—the prisoner had no right to be in the stock-rooms; she has had express instructions from me not to go there at all—the dining-room is between the stock-room and kitchen—the housekeeper would not have access to the store-room—she had been about five months in my employment—I charged her with stealing the Astrachan—she said she had not taken it—I sent for a policeman, and gave her in charge—some pawn-tickets were found on her, and shown to me—I saw the subject-matter of the tickets at the police-station and pawn-shops—blanket, rug, sheet, undershirt, stockings, and other property are all mine, I value them at £10—I had missed things for ten months, I think—I never accused Miss Phillips of dishonesty or immorality.
Cross-examined. I told you to knock for people to come to dinner—whatever goods you had to buy you had the money for, in instalments—you had been in drink twice, but I let you go on—a bill has been found for the stockings—I don't know if you purchased them or not, but I charge all my servants cost price for all goods they have; these are at full price,
and I have not signed the bill—I never allow goods to go out without my signature.
Re-examined. Some of these things were taken from the assistants' beds and the house, and are stamped with my name—the prisoner did not buy the Astrachan from me.
WILLIAM COURTIER (Policeman P 544). I was sent for on 14th July by the prosecutor, who gave the prisoner in charge at 1.15 a.m.—I told her I should take her in custody, and cautioned her—she said, "Good God, I don't know "what you mean!" addressing Mr. Snow—she may have been drinking—this was four hours and a half afterwards.
Cross-examined. You told me after the second remand where I should find the bills for the articles you had bought of Mr. Snow, and I went and found three bills—only one relates to these articles—Mr. Snow went with me, and showed me the room—he placed no obstacle in ray way—I could find no other bills.
Re-examined. None of the bills related to Astrachan.
ANN ALLEN . I am female searcher at Peckham Police-station—on Sunday morning I searched the prisoner, and found on her two purses, one in her pocket containing 1s. 11d., and the other these fourteen pawn-tickets—the second purse dropped between her feet when she unfastened the band of her drawers; it was in the band—she said, "Give that to me; that is my property."
FRANK FOUNTAIN . I am assistant to Richard Wade, pawnbroker, of 573, Old Kent Road—I produce this blanket, pawned on 9th May for 3s.; a rug and sheet, pawned on June 6 for 3s.; a flannel petticoat, jacket, and three pairs of stockings, pawned on June 8 for 3s. 6d.; all in the name of Jane Chandler; two sheets and lining, for 4s. on June 11; an under-shirt and chemise for 1s. 6d., on 24th June; a sheet, chemise, and four pairs of stockings on 26th June, in the name of Barnes—I cannot identify the prisoner—the flannel petticoat, jacket, lining, sheet, and chemise have not been identified by Mr. Snow.
JOHN SAINT . I am assistant to Messrs. Harvey and Thomson, pawnbrokers, at 568, Old Kent Road—this quilt was pledged with me for 2s. 6d. on 28th April in the name of Mitchell—I do not identify the prisoner.
WILLIAM MATTHEWS . I am assistant to Mr. Henry Davis, a pawnbroker, of 9, Peckham Park Road—I produce a tablecloth pawned with me on 12th February for 2s. 6d. in the name of Ann Mitchell—I recognise the prisoner—I asked her no questions.
The prisoner, in a written defence, denied all knowledge of the Astrachan; she said she had to pass through the stock-room, which was only a thoroughfare between the shop and the house, to call Mr. Snow to his meals; as to the other pawnings, that she had no intention of keeping a fraction of Mr. Snow's property, but that she had spent the greater part of her wages on the house, and Mr. Snow owed her money; and that since her offence of eleven years ago she had worked hard.
GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in May, 1878— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted, and MR. LAWLESS Defended.
JOHN HOLLIDAY . I live at 145, Asylum Road, Peckham—I live on my property—on Thursday morning, 25th July, I was in Amersham Road, and I was suddenly pounced on by the prisoner and another one, who got away—they got on my back and on my head—they took my purse, containing about 18s., my knife, handkerchief, and a key—this is my handkerchief.
Cross-examined. I might have had a glass or two—I know the prisoner was one of the men who knocked me down, the policeman caught him; running away—I think I told the Magistrate he was one—I cannot recollect what I said—they caught me suddenly from the back—I could not say if this man or the other knocked me on the head—I cannot recollect how much I had in my purse.
Re-examined. I saw the divisional surgeon at the Police-station.
PATRICK TANGREY (Policeman R R 86). On Monday, 25th July, I was on duty in Park Road, which turns out of Amersham Road—I saw the prisoner running through Amersham Road—I followed him, running on the other side of the road till I got ahead of him—I then crossed over and caught hold of him—he put his right hand to his trousers pocket—I caught hold of his left hand and found this knife in it—I asked him what he had got in his left hand, he said, "A knife"—I said, "How do you account for this?"—he said, "Me and my pal have been having a row, and I ran away with his knife"—I took him back to Amersham Road, where I found the prosecutor lying on the road near the kerb—I got assistance, and took prosecutor and prisoner to the station—the prosecutor was bleeding from a wound in his head—I cannot say whether he was drunk or suffering from the effects of the blow—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found three keys, a large clasp knife, 3s. 1 1/2 d., and a handkerchief—the knife and two keys and 1d. were in his left trousers pocket, the other money, small key, and handkerchief in his right trousers pocket—I showed them to the prosecutor, who identified the knife, small key, and handkerchief—I charged the prisoner with assaulting and robbing him—he made this statement at the station to the inspector—I made a note at the time: "I met another chap on the tramp, about my own height and age, with a peak cap; I never saw him before—he said, 'Halloa, here is a toff, let's upset him'; the prosecutor asked us the way to the Asylum Road; the other man struck him, knocked him down, put his hand in his pocket, and ran away with his purse; he gave me the knife to square it, and said, 'That will do for you, won't it? we both ran away together"—the prisoner could see I was taking it down in writing.
Cross-examined. I have been in the force twelve years—the prisoner did not tell me he picked up the things in the road close by—he went back with me to the prosecutor, and assisted me to lift him up—he did not say he had seen the man lying there before—he wanted to take me in the other direction to the way the prosecutor was lying—perhaps I did not tell the Magistrate that—I know nothing against the prisoner—I have not been able to make any inquiries; he denied his address.
Lewisham High Road—on the morning of the 25th July I examined the prosecutor at the station, and found a cut about one inch long on the top of his head; part of it extended to the membrane covering of the skull—it might have been caused by a blow from a blunt instrument or a fall—being on the top of the head, it was very unlikely to have been received by a fall—he was not drunk, but rather confused—my impression was that he had been drinking, and that he had had the blow on his head, and the two things together produced the condition he was in—he confessed to have been drinking.
Cross-examined. He was not drunk when I saw him, but he smelt of drink to a certain extent, and he was confused—he spoke.
By the JURY. The blow was on the crown of the head—he could not have struck the crown by falling backwards; if he had fallen on a flat surface the wound would have been at the back—there are kerbs and lamp-posts about, and there is no part of a man's head that cannot be injured by a fall, but this is the least likely part.
The prisoner's mother gave him a good character.
GUILTY.— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Justice With.
Upon the evidence of Dr. HENRY CHARLTON BASTIAN the JURY found the prisoner to be insane and unfit to plead.— Ordered to be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
656. CHARLES EVANS (14) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously carnally knowing Beatrice Andrews, a girl under 13 years of age; also to a like offence upon Elizabeth Andrews, under 13. — Seven days' Imprisonment, and then sent to a reformatory for five years.
ELLEN BURKE . I live at 3, Queen Street, Rotherhithe—the deceased, Johanna Burke, was my mother—she was a widow—on Saturday, 8th June, between four and five in the afternoon, I saw her in Salisbury Street, Jamaica Road—I did not see her again till the following Monday week in the hospital, where she remained till she died, on 12th July—she was a healthy woman.
JANE BROWN . I live at 18, Salisbury Street, Bermondsey—I knew the deceased—on Saturday, 8th June, about eight o'clock, she was quarrelling with the prisoner in the street outside 64, Salisbury Street—the prisoner was in the passage of 13, which is opposite—the prisoner's sister, Mrs. Conway, was there; they were all three quarrelling together—I went on my way shopping—I returned in about half an hour—I then saw the prisoner come out of 13, go across the road, and strike the deceased, and she fell down—the prisoner hit her about the face and head with her hands, and she kicked her more than once about the legs and body when she was on the ground—a large crowd collected, and the
prisoner ran back into 13, and Mrs. Fleming took up the deceased and put her on the steps of 13—I went home.
Cross-examined. I had not seen anything of the row in the afternoon—No. 13 is Miss Conroy's house—the deceased was standing opposite the house abusing them and calling them bad names, such as "Mad Kate Casey, the wh——," and so on—I believe the Casey family to be very respectable.
ELIZA FLEMING . I am the wife of John Fleming, and live at 14, Salisbury Street—on 8th June, about four or five, I saw a row between the prisoner and deceased—the two families were fighting, they are both Irish—the young women of both families were all entangled, fighting one another—afterwards, about eight o'clock, I was coming down the street and saw a crowd of people, and I saw the prisoner come from No. 13 strike or push the deceased, and she went on the ground—I then saw the prisoner take her right leg and stamp on her—she was in a very excited state—I went over and said she ought to be ashamed—she said nothing, but went back to 13—some of the neighbours lifted the deceased on to the doorstep—I don't think she was in liquor—she certainly was abusing the prisoner—the neighbours said she spat in the prisoner's face, but I did not see it—I did not render her any assistance; my family were cross with me because I did anything at all—I heard her calling the Casey girls all the foul names she could—the bother was through the prisoner keeping company with the deceased's son-in-law, and they had been quarrelling for some time—the prisoner stood it for a good while before she did anything.
Cross-examined. The Burke family had been molesting the prisoner's family—they had been frequently quarrelling and fighting together.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment for the assault, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted, and MR. KEITH FRITH Defended.
After the opening, MR. JUSTICE WILLS was of opinion that there Was no case for the Jury, the death resulting from mere excitement and not from violence.
NOT GUILTY . An acquittal was also taken on another indictment charging an assault.
MR. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. LAWLESS Defended.
The case before the Magistrate was dismissed, and no bill was presented to the Grand Jury. MR. GILL proposed to offer no evidence on the Inquisition, but
MR. JUSTICE WILLS considered that the facts should be laid before the Jury. The deceased was an illegitimate child of the prisoner's daughter, who died, leaving the child, two months old, in the care of the prisoner. It was a small delicate child, and died within four months. The prisoner was of drunken
habits, but fond of the child, had medical attendance for it, and declined to allow it to go into the Infirmary.
The Jury were of opinion that the neglect alleged to have accelerated death was not of a nature amounting to criminal neglect, and therefore found the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SAUNDERS Prosecuted.
GUILTY of an indecentassault.— Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. FULTON Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.
CHARLES WILLIAM COLE . I keep the White Horse, Peckham Rye—on 29th May I engaged the prisoner as manager; he was to reside there with his wife, and receive 30s. a week wages, and board and maintenance for himself and family and household—he came in on May 30th—I directed him to pay the bills for the household expenses, and to produce the bills to me at the end of the week—he was not to exceed 36s. a week, but there was no exact stipulation to that effect—on 6th June I paid his wages, 30s.; on Monday, June 24th, he produced this bill for £14s. 9 1/2 d., purporting to be receipted by G. Rogerson; I paid him the money, believing that was the butcher's signature; it was included in the 36s.—shortly afterwards I gave him notice to leave, and he left on June 27th, after which I received a bill from Mr. Rogerson with "Bill delivered, £1 4S. 9 1/2 d." on it—I saw him, he repudiated the receipt, and I gave the prisoner in custody—this (A memorandum) is the prisoner's writing, to the best of my belief.
Cross-examined. He was with me one month; the engagement was for a month, subject to a week's notice—I gave him notice, as I was dissatisfied with him—his wife assisted in housekeeping and served in the bar; she left on the Monday to be confined, and he was discharged on Thursday—I settled with him weekly—he left all his clothes there; he asked me to allow Him to do so till he sent for them.
CHARLES ROGERSON . I am a butcher, of Peckham Rye—I supplied meat to the White Horse—this is one of my bill-heads—this, "G. Rogerson, with thanks, paid," is not my writing—finding it was unpaid I sent in a second bill, with other items incurred since.
Cross-examined. I have had no conversation with the prisoner about the bill, but on Tuesday morning, the 25th, he just put his head under the compartment, and said, "I have your money, Mr. Rogerson, but I have made use of a portion of it, and I will send it in the morning by the potman"—I said, "I have not come for that, I have come for a drink"—I did not give him leave to sign this bill.
CHARLES GARNER (Detective Officer P). On 1st July I took the prisoner at 39, Acorn Street, Camberwell, and told him it was for forging a receipt—he said, "It is a bad job; I suppose you will allow me to go to my friends to get the money"—on the way to the station he said, "Mr. Rogerson knew that I had signed the bill; he told me to do it"—he said to the prosecutor, "You are not going to charge me; I will pay you the money."
Witnesses for the Defence.
FRANK MCCORMACK . I am a baker, but I was potman in Mr. Cole's service while the prisoner was there—I do not know the day of the month, but on a Monday or Tuesday I heard Page ask Mr. Rogerson if he would mind waiting a day or two for his money—Mr. Rogerson said, "No"—Mr. Page said, "May I sign this bill, so that the governor can see it?"—he said, "Yes; that is all right"—there were two others in the bar at the time—Mr. Page has found one of them, and he is here—I was putting mineral waters under the counter.
Cross-examined. I was discharged by Mr. Cole for helping myself to a drop of spirits, not for filling a bottle with whisky, or for drunkenness—I only took the spirits out of the bar in a drop of gingerbeer in a glass tankard—I was turned out at once.
Re-examined. It was about a pennyworth of whisky, and I did not drink it.
ROBERT DODD . I am a driver, of 21, Ormsby Road, Peckham—I was in the bar of the White Horse when Mr. Rogerson was there, and heard him and the prisoner talking together, but did not hear what was said.
CHARLES ROGERSON (Re-examined by the COURT). I have heard what McCormack has said—Page did ask me if I would wait for my money, and I said, "All right; I did not come for the money, I came for a drink," but it is utterly untrue that he asked me if he might sign the bill, or that I said, "Yes"—it was impossible for me to give him my sanction on the Tuesday when he had receipted the bill on Monday.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character. — Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. TENHORNE Defended.
WILLIAM WEBB . I keep the Bedford Park Hotel, Streatham—on 10th April, 1888, I was at the Railway Hotel, Putney, and about that time the prisoner, whom I knew as a customer, came and asked if I would change this cheque for him—it was dated April 10th, 1888, drawn by Thomas Barton in favour of H. Weaver, for £6 10s.—I did so, and paid it in to my account—it was returned marked "No account"—I met the prisoner some time afterwards, and said, "I want to see you about that cheque that came back"—he said, "I will see you at the Railway Hotel to-morrow morning at 10 o'clock, and pay you"—I was there, but he did not come—I next saw him in custody.
Cross-examined. I have never seen him write, and do not know whether the cheque was written by him—I have known him a considerable time as a honest, respectable man and a customer, or I should not have changed it.
Wandsworth Branch—I had a cheque-book with some blank cheques still left in it—in March, 1888, I met the prisoner at Putney Railway Station; he held up his finger, and I went across to him—he asked me if I had got such a thing as a blank cheque—I said, "Why?"—he said he had to send a cheque away, and was run out—I did not know where he banked—I said, "I have a book at home half empty, and if you go round to my place about six I will give you one"—he came about 6.30, and in tearing out a cheque for him I tore out two, and gave them both to him—these are the counterfoils—the cheque signed "Thomas Barton" is one of them, No. 06420—I have the corresponding number in the counterfoil.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner for ten or twelve years, and have worked for him, and always found him straightforward—he did not say that he had an account at the same bank as I had—I have never heard anything of the second cheque I tore out—I know nothing about Barton.
ALEXANDER MCGRUER . I am manager of the London and South-western Bank, Wandsworth Road—we had a cashier named William Martin Cobb, whose account has not been operated upon since 1883 or the beginning of 1884, and there is a balance of £2 6s. 11d.—some time last year this cheque was presented and marked "No account"—we never had a customer named Chas. Barton—I do not know the writing on this cheque.
Cross-examined. I do not know the prisoner; he has no account there. The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. Respecting the cheque to Mr. Webb, it was paid to me over a bet, and Mr. Webb cashed it for me.
NOT GUILTY .
664. MARTIN WEAVER was again indicted, with CHARLES HERBERT HURSTWICK (44) , for conspiring to obtain £3 15s. from William Henry Wilson. Second Count, charging HURSTWICK with obtaining £2 10s. and 12s. 6d. by false pretences. Third Count, charging WEAVER with conspiring (with HENRY BROMWICH , not in custody) to obtain money from Benjamin Sudell, by false pretences.
MR. CHAS. MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. TENHORNE Defended Weaver.
BENJAMIN SUDELL . I keep the Napier public-house, St. John's Hill, Wandsworth—on Saturday, 9th February, Weaver came in with McMahon and another man, a stranger—I knew Weaver as an occasional customer—they showed me a cheque for £12 12s., and Weaver said, "I want to find two more,"—I wanted my silver, but I advanced him £4—Weaver took it up, and I said whenever he liked to call for the £8 12s. balance he could have it—he promised to call the following Wednesday, but none of them called—he left with the money, leaving McMahon there—I paid the cheque into the bank, and it was returned—I have never had my money.
Cross-examined by MR. TENHORNE. I do not know who the third man was—I do not know Bromwich—I have known Weaver five or six years, but never changed a cheque for him before—he did not say anything about Bromwich—there was an offer to me of the odd 12s. for cashing the cheque, but they never called for the balance—Weaver said that McMahon would come for the balance on Wednesday.
on February 9th Weaver met me in Falcon Lane, and said, "I have just had a cheque sent me by my surveyor, I owe you some money, and have a chance to pay you; can you change it for me?"—I said, "Certainly not!"—he said, "Do you know where I can get it changed?"—I said, "No"—he said that if I went to Mr. Sudell and got it changed he should be able to pay me—I went to Mr. Sudell, and told him how it was; he picked the cheque up, and got four sovereigns and put them on the counter—Weaver picked them up and put them in his pocket, and he was to call on Wednesday for the balance—I was there on Wednesday and waited, but he never called—another man was with him, they came in together, and about five minutes after he had the money that man said, "I wish you would pay me, it is getting late"—he went away and did not return—I saw him two months afterwards, and said, "How about that worthless cheque you gave Sudell?"—he said, "Is not that settled?"—I said, "No; you had better come and settle it, or you will be in Court in a couple of days."
Cross-examined by MR. TREHORNE. He owed me between £4 and £5, and I went with him in order to get paid—I knew the publican, he had changed several cheques for me before, and always found them right—I do not believe he would have cashed it for Weaver if I had not been there—Weaver changed one of the sovereigns to pay for the beer we had—I had some beer before Weaver and the other man came in—Weaver laid the cheque on the counter, I don't believe I touched it—I don't know Bromwich.
WILLIAM HENRY WILSON . I keep the George and Dragon, 97, York Road, Battersea—on 23rd February both prisoners came in, Hurstwick introduced Weaver, and said, "This gentleman is collecting money for me"—Hurstwick showed me this cheque for £3 15s.—I asked him if it was all right, and if he knew Weayer—he said, "Yes"—Weaver said if I changed the cheque he would pay Hurstwick out of the money he owed him for professional attendance—I knew Hurstwick as a doctor—I gave him the money for the cheque, and he handed it to Weaver—I paid the cheque in to my account, it came back marked "Account closed"—two or three days afterwards Hurstwick came in as a customer, and all at once I missed him—I did not say anything to him about the cheque, I kept the matter to myself—I did not see Weaver again till I gave him into custody—I informed the police about a month afterwards—I have never had my money back.
Cross-examined by MR. TENHORNE. I have lived six years in Wandsworth—I did not know Weaver—nothing was said about 13s. owing to Hurstwick by Weaver.
Cross-examined by Hurstwick. I did not misunderstand you in saying that Weaver was collecting your debts—I asked the question over and over again, and you said he was.
CHARLES CROSS . I am a dairyman, of 3, Cabul Road, Battersea—on 27th April Fielder came in and showed me this cheque for £3 2s. 6d.—in consequence of what he said I gave him £2, the balance was to be paid afterwards—next day Fielder came in, he came daily till the money was paid, and he has never been since—I saw Hurstwick there once, he and Fielder came together, I believe, and I gave 10s. to Hurstwick—that was part of the £1 10s. 6d. which remained on the cheque—some little time after Fielder came, and I paid him 12s. 2d., the outstanding balance—I paid the cheque away and it was returned, marked "No account."
JOHN FIELDER . I am a carman, of 54, Cabul Road, Battersea—on 27th April Hurstwick came and asked me to give him change for a cheque for £3 2s. 6d.—I asked him to endorse it—he did so—this is his endorsement—I could not change it—he asked if I could get it changed—I said it would be difficult, as it was Bank Holiday—I sent it to Mr. Cross—before that I said to Hurstwick "Is this cheque all right?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Who is Mr. Bromwich"—he said, "He is a patient of mine; I have been over to Balham and got it"—I said, "Have you had any before of him"—he said, "Yes, and he has a coachman and servants"—I got £2 from Cross and gave it to Hurstwick—I thought Cross had a banking account, but he had not, and he kept the cheque for some time—I saw him going to London, and ran after him and said, "This man wants 10s. very badly," and he gave him 10s.—I saw Hurstwick afterwards, and told him the cheque had been returned marked "No account"—he said, "I will go and see Bromwich about it"—he went and saw Mrs. Bromwich, who said Mr. Bromwich had gone to Manchester, that he expected £200 to be paid into the bank in a day or two, and then it would be all right.
Cross-examined by Hurstwick. You came to me several times after I had the cheque, and I said as it had not been returned I thought it was all right—you said rather than I should lose the money you would pay it out of your own pocket.
Re-examined. He did not do so—I saw him write this endorsement—I took him down to my kitchen on purpose.
WILLIAM BOLTON . I am manager of the Balham branch of the London and South-Western Bank in November, 1888, Bromwich opened an account there by the payment of £14 17s. 6d—all that was drawn out, and the account was overdrawn between November and January—I wrote to him about it in February, and on 14th February he attended at the bank and received the balance, 5s. 5d, and the account was closed—a number of cheques were presented after that, and among them these three; they were all dishonoured.
WILLIAM BRIGGS (Police Sergeant W). I took Hurstwick on 2nd July, on a warrant for conspiracy to defraud—he said, "I only had to do with one, at Mr. Wilson's, the George and Dragon, and Fielder passed one."
JOHN WINZAE (Police Sergeant V). I took Weaver on 21st June, in Falcon Road, and read the warrant to him—he said, "I know nothing about any cheques, I have not had one since my account was closed"—I said, "It is for being concerned with Bromwich"—he said, "That fellow has been forging my name; I believe I did pass one for him, but I gave him the money"—I have a warrant for Bromwich's arrest, but have not been able to execute it.
Cross-examined by MR TENHORNE. Weaver has been four times before the Court; I think the case was adjourned because the Treasury could not attend, and something was said about Bromwich not being arrested—I charged Weaver with conspiring with Bromwich.
Hurstwick's statement before the Magistrate was that he was at Mr. Wilson's when Weaver came in, and asked him if he could cash a cheque; that he said no, but perhaps Mr. Wilson could, and Mr. Wilson did so, and he handed the money to Weaver, who went out and never returned; that Mr. Bromwich gave him the other cheque, and asked him to cash it, and gave him £1 out of it, retaining £2 2s. 6d. for his bill for medical attendance, and he was quite surprised when
he found the cheque was returned. Weaver stated that Mr. Bromwich brought him a cheque post-dated a week, which he cashed and gave to the doctor when it came to maturity to take his account out of it; and as to the cheque which Mr. Sudell advanced £4 on, he gave the money to Bromwich, and a letter to go and receive the balance, as he (Weaver) was going to Tunbridge Wells; and that the other cheque was paid to him over a bet, and Mr. Webb cashed it.
Hurstwick, in his defence, stated that he was a physician and surgeon, and M. D. of St. Thomas's; that he sold his business at Camberwell on account of his wife's health, for £700, to a man who gave him a cheque for the amount, which was dishonoured; that the man absconded to America, leaving him and his family totally unprovided for; that a patient called him into the George and Dragon, where Weaver spoke to him, and asked him if he could change a cheque; that he said "No, but perhaps Mr. Wilson can;" and Mr. Wilson did so, and that he did not know where Weaver obtained the cheque; that Weaver then paid him 13s. which he owed him for medicine, and that he never heard till he was before the Magistrate that the cheque was returned to Mr. Wilson; that he had been into his house several times since; that Bromwich owed him £2 10s. 6d. for medical attendance, and wrote a cheque for £3 2s. 6d.; he gave him £1 change, and asked Mr. Fielder, his patient, to cash the cheque, who got £2 on account from Mr. Cross.
WEAVER, GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
HURSTWICK, NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
DAVID ANDREWS . I live at Fairlight, Queen's Road, Battersea—I have no occupation—on the night of 2nd July I went to bed about ten o'clock, having fastened up the house, and leaving the windows all properly fastened—about three next morning I was awakened by a dog barking—I got up, and from the window I saw Mr. Kennedy, who lives opposite; he gave me information—I came downstairs and into the front garden—I found the side window on the ground floor open; it had been closed when I went to bed—I went into the road and crossed to Stanley Street, and I saw Scott and Harvey come walking down from Stanley Street—as soon as they saw me and Kennedy they took to their feet and scaled the bakery wall—we gave chase, and they dropped over another wall, about nine feet, on to the railway line—we followed them for about 200 yards; Kennedy captured Scott, the others got away—we took Scott to the station—on a subsequent day I was brought to the station, where I picked Harvey out from a group—I am positive he is one of the men I saw that night—I know nothing as to Stevenson—when I got back to my house that night I made a further examination, and found they had been trying to get in the centre window—there was a little piece chipped off where they had pushed a knife through between the meeting bars to slip back the catch—they had not got in at that window, but at another one by slipping back the catch of that—nothing was disarranged inside.
Cross-examined by Scott. You went through a gate in the wall; the others got over the wall—they did not observe the gate was open—it is only a little gate.
Battersea, and am a stonemason—my house is just opposite Mr. Andrews's—on 3rd July my wife woke me up early, and called my attention to something—I looked out of the window and saw two men standing outside Mr. Andrews's railings, and one going through the open side-window into the house; he went right in the house—my bedroom is downstairs—I went out into the road, and by the time I got across the road, about twenty yards from my house, the man was coming out of the window again—Scott was that man, the other prisoners are the other two men who stood at the railings—when I went across the road the two at the railings ran; Scott jumped through the window—they ran up Philip Street, the other two were a good way in front of Scott; came across the green and got over the bakery wall—I called to Andrews, who came to the window—we saw Scott and Harvey coming from Stanley Street—I don't know where Stevenson was then, he had got out of sight—I followed them over the bakery wall on to the line—I caught Scott; Harvey got away—subsequently I was called to the station, where I picked out Harvey—on another day I was called again, and I picked out Stevenson—I have no doubt they are the two men I saw that night.
THOMAS TAYLOR (Policeman 30 W R). On the night of 2nd July I was in Battersea Park Road, about ten minutes or quarter to twelve—I saw the three prisoners together, about five minutes' walk from the prosecutor's house—they appeared to be sauntering along leisurely—I watched them for ten minutes or quarter of an hour—on the following night I saw Harvey again in the Battersea Park Road, and I took him into custody—I said I should take him into custody for being concerned with Scott, who was in custody, and another not in custody, in breaking into Fairlight House, Queen's Road—he said, "You have made a mistake this time, governor"—at the station he said he had seen Scott several times, but he had never spoken to him in his life—I had received a description from Kennedy before I arrested him—I have seen Scott and Harvey together frequently—I put Harvey with eight or nine men at the station, and Andrews and Kennedy picked him out—at the station Harvey made an attempt to escape by rushing towards the door.
FREDERICK BROWN (Policeman W 404). Between seven and eight on 9th July I saw Stevenson at Battersea Park—I said, "You answer the description of a man wanted for breaking into a house in Queen's Road; I shall take you into custody on suspicion"—he said, "All right, governor"—I took him to the station, and placed him between eleven or twelve other men, and Kennedy picked him out—when the charge was read he said nothing in reply.
Scott, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said he was not with the other two prisoners on this night, but with two other men, and that he was not near this house.
Harvey, in his statement before the Magistrate, said he intended to prove an alibi. In his defence he said Scott came into the public-home he was in, and went with him to the corner of Marsh Street, where he lived.
Stevenson said he had been with Harvey and Scott, and when they left him he went to sleep on Clapham Common.
Stevenson PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in January, 1888,
A constable stated that he believed Scott was a hard-working, honest lad until he met Harvey about two months ago.
HARVEY and STEVENSON— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
SCOTT— One Day's Imprisonment.
666. ROBERT SMITH (60) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling house of John Francis Davis, with intent to steal therein; and also to a conviction of felony at this Court in July, 1888, in the name of RobertWhite.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. And
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.
KEMPSTER HALL . I am a ticket-inspector, employed by the South London Tramways Company—the prisoner was a conductor in the same employ—on 13th June, a little after 10 p.m., I was in the Albert Road, Battersea Park Road—I got on the car, of which the prisoner was conductor, to examine the passengers' tickets—I found several inside passengers' tickets which ought to have been punched by the conductor's machine were not punched, and there were five too many passengers inside—those are both matters that ought not to occur, and that I ought to speak about—I came out on the platform and told the prisoner he had some tickets not punched inside, and "You are overloaded, and you ought not to carry so many"—he said, "I can't help that, you see how I am "; he meant overloaded—I said, "I can't help that"—I went on the roof, and found there five passengers too many sitting on the rail—I told the prisoner when I came down he had five too many upstairs and that it was very dangerous—he struck me as I stood on the platform two terrific blows in the jaw with his right fist, saying, "Take that, you b——'—I got down from the car at the Prince's Head, and went in search of a policeman—the prisoner came running after me, saving he would kill me—I found two policemen, and told them what had occurred; that was about twenty yards from the car—while I was explaining the matter to them the prisoner struck me a terrific blow in the front of my jaw, breaking off and knocking five teeth down my throat, and breaking my" jaw, which is now in splints—I had given him no provocation, except to remonstrate with him—I had had no previous quarrel with him—the constable took him away, and I was taken to a doctor—on the second occasion I did not know he was going to strike me, I was taken unawares—I had not struck him, or anything of that kind—I have been in the hospital ever since—I had known him as a conductor about three months—I am a small man as compared with the prisoner.
Cross-examined bythe Prisoner. I did not say, when I came on the car, "I shall see the governor next day, and you will know all about it"—I
was a conductor myself some time ago—I did not say, "I am not a rogue like you"—I said I had been a conductor before, and I may have said, "I never did things like you"—I did not say what things—you did not push me, and I did not say, "Who are you pushing of, you blackguard"—I did not call you a "Russian pig"—I never touched you when the policeman came—you struck me twice standing on the platform, and once standing on the ground when the policemen were there.
By the COURT. I did not use irritating language to him—I said to him "I never did things like you, "Imeant as to taking fares; he is very slow—I never called him a rogue—I did not push him or call him a blackguard—I never struck him before he assaulted me—I used no language calculated to make him strike me.
GEORGE WILLIAM PEARCE . I live at 56, Mallinson Road, Wandsworth Road; I am a window-blind maker—previous to this occurrence I knew neither conductor nor inspector—on this night I was a passenger in the car, sitting on the left-hand side next to the door as you get in—I saw the inspector get on the car, and go round and examine tickets, and go on the roof and come down again—he said to the conductor, "You have too many passengers here; you have four or five inside and likewise five outside; you know that is very wrong"—the conductor said, "If you cannot behave yourself don't come on my b——y car again"—I had not heard the inspector use any language calculated to cause a breach of the peace—the conductor said, "Get off, get off," and struck him a violent blow in the face—the inspector then went towards the Prince's Head, and the conductor, who seemed rather excited, ran after him, saying, "I will kill you, you b——y bastard"—he came back and got on his car, and the prosecutor came up with two constables—after standing for some time talking, the prisoner struck the inspector again another violent blow on the face—the constable took him into custody—from first to last I did not hear the prosecutor use any bad or exciting language to the prisoner—I should have been bound to hear it if he had.
CHARLES TIMMINS (Policeman V 344). On this night, at 10 o'clock, I was on duty outside the Prince's Head—the inspector called me—I followed him to the other bide of the tram-car, about 2 1/2 yards from where I was—I found the prisoner on the car—while the inspector was making a statement to me the prisoner struck him a violent blow in the jaw—I did not lose sight of the inspector from the, time he came to me till the blow was struck—nothing was said or done by him to aggravate the prisoner, or make him strike him—the only this said was, "I want to charge that man with assaulting me on the car"—the prisoner had one foot on the footboard and one in the road when he struck the inspector, who was in the road, on the left jaw with his right hand—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody—he said, "Well, he should not torment me so much; he never would leave me alone; I will kill the b——r yet"—he repeated this several times on the way to the station—he was very excited.
FELIX GEORGE KEMPSTER , M. R. C. S. I am assistant divisional surgeon to the police at Battersea—I examined the prosecutor on that evening—I found his jaw was broken in two places, on each side of the central line—he had the bleeding sockets of five teeth, as if they had just been knocked out—I found there were some teeth in the gullet, more than one; I could not say how many—they had gone down too far to extract, and as they
threatened to suffocate him I pushed them down the gullet—a severe blow with a fist might cause such an injury to a slight person like the prosecutor, whose jaw is thin—one blow might break the jaw in two places and throw down the teeth—it is a very serious injury indeed—the man has been in the hospital ever since—I have seen him since, but not examined him—he is likely to be in the hospital some long time yet—they have just wired the jaw together to allow him to give evidence today—I do not think he will recover completely; he is in such a bad state of health his bones will not join readily—he is a man of weak physical calibre.
KEMPSTER HALL (Re-examined). The first blow did not knock me down; it broke my jaw in one place, and the third blow broke it in another place and sent it upwards—two blows were the cause of its breaking; the third blow sent my teeth out—if it had not been for the rail of the car I should have gone over the top.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. There was only one ticket not punched. He insulted me, and I could not keep my temper, and I struck him.
The Prisoner in his defence said the inspector insulted him, and called him names and hit him in the stomach with his elbow, aud caught hold of his coat when the policeman came, and that, being out of temper, he hit him.
GUILTY .— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Six Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 16TH, 1889.