CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
THIRD SESSION, HELD JANUARY 13TH, 1890.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
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OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
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CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, January 13th, 1890, and following days.
BEFORE SIR JAMES WHITEHEAD , Bart. (acting for the LORD MAYOR); the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir THOMAS GABRIEL , Bart., Sir ROBERT NICHOLAS FOWLER , Bart., M. P., Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q. C., Recorder of the City; EDWARD JAMES GRAY , Esq., GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Esq., JOSEPH RENALS , Esq., WALTER HENRY WILKIN , Esq., and HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q. C., D. C. L., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ISAACS, MAYOR. THIRD 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, January 13th, 1890.
Before Mr. Recorder.
122. JOSEPH WILLIAM BRAND (29) was indicted for feloniously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Frank Baker, and stealing two salt-cellars, three sleeve-links, and one pin. Second Count, for feloniously receiving the same.
MR. GILL Prosecuted and MR. PURCELL Defended.
FRANK BAKER . I am a stockbroker, and live at 2, Hill Grove Road, West Hampstead—about 15th August last year I went to the seaside, and left my house in charge of a servant, Fanny York—on the 22nd I received a telegram, in consequence of which I returned home—I found that the front door had been forced open and the bolts wrenched off—there were marks of an instrument having been used—a wardrobe had been forced open, and I missed a number of articles of jewellery and plate, to the value of £20 or £30, among them some salt-cellars, some links, and a pin—I gave information to the police, with a list of the articles stolen—this pin (produced) formed the centre of a cross, which belonged to my wife; it has since been made into a pin; it is a pearl and ruby—these two salt-cellars are my property, four were stolen—these links I identify, there is a peculiarity about them, one of the shanks comes through the link, the other does not; they are old and of no value—they were lying in the toilet-table drawer—I had had them a long time.
Cross-examined. I lost more than thirty different articles—these links are very common, and could be bought at any shop for a few pence—I recognise this pin as the centre of a cross—I could not recognise the setting, it is the same shape, it is gold.
FANNY YORK . I am servant to Mr. Baker—I was left in charge of the house when the family went to the seaside—on the afternoon of 21st August I went out about five, leaving the house fastened, and taking the key with me—I returned about twenty minutes to ten, and let myself in
with the key by the side door—on going in I found that the front door had been burst open; the house was in a state of confusion—I telegraphed to my master, and he came up.
JAMES NAIRN (Detective Sergeant). In November last I was making inquiries, and as the result I went to Forston Street, Hoxton, with Sergeants Gold and Robinson—the prisoner opened the door of the house—I told him we were police-officers, and should arrest him on suspicion of being concerned with others in committing burglaries—he said, "All right"—we searched the room he occupied, and took possession of a large quantity of property—in the drawers I found these links, the scarf-pin he was wearing; the salt-cellars were on the mantelpiece when we first went into the room, but they were afterwards missing—they were afterwards found in the possession of the prisoners wife—she produced them from under her dress—some of the property found was given up to the wife—small articles of jewellery were found, and the movements of a watch—he said at the station that he bought the property about three months ago.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had been taken to the station when we cleared away this property; he was brought up the next morning before the Magistrate, and remanded for a week, and on the remand he was postponed for another week for further inquiry, being admitted to bail—Mr. Baker then gave evidence, and the prisoner was committed for trial to the last Session—he was then admitted to bail, and the case was postponed to the present Session—it was thought that we could get further evidence—it was arranged that notice of further evidence should be given to the prisoner a week before the trial; no further evidence has been discovered—portions of the property found in his room have been given to his wife—no charge has been made with respect to the rest of the property—the prisoner described himself as a commission agent.
JOHN ROBINSON (Police Sergeant). I was with the last witness on the visit to the prisoner's house—he occupied one room on the first floor—he opened the door to us—I noticed these two salt-cellars on the mantelshelf; I afterwards missed them when we searched the room—I said to the wife, "Where are the two salt-cellars that stood there?"—the prisoner said to her, "You have got them"—she then left the room, returned in about two minutes—she said they were in the cupboard, outside—I said, "They can not be there, I have just searched there; it looks very suspicious"—she then took them from under her dress—the prisoner said, "I can prove where I bought them, about three months ago"—he was taken to the station and charged.
Cross-examined. Nairn and myself searched the room, no one else—Gold stood outside on the stairs—the landlady was called in by the prisoner's wife—she took down the curtains, and they were taken away—we went to the station with the prisoner, and then returned and made a further search—it was when we were making the first search that I missed the salt-cellars.
Witnesses for the Defence
HENRY SKILBECK . I am a ticket-writer, and live at 69, Compton Buildings, Goswell Road—I have seen these two salt-cellars before; they are what Mr. Brand bought, I believe, in a public-house by Shoreditch Church; the Black Bull or the Bull—I was present when he bought them—
I met him there—he bought them of a former pupil of mine, when I was a bicycle maker; he gave four or five shillings for them—it was in September, the day the prisoner came from Doncaster, when Donovan won the St. Leger; he said he had won money there.
Cross-examined. My former pupil produced the salt-cellars from a bag, and said he had bought them at a sale—this was between ten and eleven—he was showing them to me, and Mr. and Mrs. Brand took a fancy to them, and bought them—I do not know Dillon's public-house in Ayles bury Street; I have never been there—as far as I can recollect, these were the only things I have ever seen sold in a public-house—he had other things in the bag, some knives and forks, I think.
ROBERT DAINTON . I am a brass finisher and clock maker, in Percival Street—I mounted this pin for the prisoner, and put a back on it; it had these stones in front, and this brass work I put on to it, and charged him sixpence for doing it—I don't recollect when this was; it was somewhere about the middle of last year.
Cross-examined. I do all kinds of jobs in jewellery—I think this was in the summer part; I don't think it was before August; it was before September—there was no pin to it when he brought it to me, only the stones—I put the metal work to it—he did not mention where he got it from, and I did not ask him.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. JONES. Prosecuted.
REUBEN HENRY RENWICK . I am a warehouseman in the employ of Messrs. Abbott, Anderson, and Co., of 70, Watling Street— Messrs. Goff and Co., of 22, King Street, Covent Garden, are customers of ours—on Wednesday, 30th October, the prisoner White called at the warehouse—I did not know him before; he produced a blue envelope containing this order. (This requested the nearer to be supplied with a gent's tweed overcoat, on approval, for Goff and Co., of 22, King Street, Covent Garden)—he was supplied with a coat answering that description, and a memo invoice of it—he took the coat away in a parcel—on the 31st he came again with a similar order, and we supplied him with two garments—on 1st November he came again with this order for ladies' mantles—we then sent eight articles for selection—I told him that the invoices for the two previous parcels would be sent off directed to Messrs. Goff—on Monday, 4th November, he called again, and produced this other order for two ladies' mantles—he then had nine coats and three ladies' mantles—on the 11th he called again with this order, ordering other goods—before that an invoice had,. been sent to Goff and Co., and they had made certain representations to our firm, in consequence of which, when White came, I sent for a constable, and he was given into custody—he admitted having the previous parcels—I said we were not satisfied with the genuineness of the order—he said Goffs sent him with the order—I said we had had a letter from Goffs to say they were all forgeries, and he was not sent from there at all—he said, "Goffs sent me down, and I will go back with you to see that it is all right"—I did not go back—I identify all these coats and mantles as ours.
FRANK HERBERT . I am manager to Goff and Co., of 22, King Street, Covent Garden—I do not know White—these five orders are not genuine, neither the stamp or the signature—our firm use a stamp, but quite different to this, on the orders—we never received any of the goods mentioned in the orders—Rawlinson was in our service as a carman; he left the service just after last August Bank Holiday—I am familiar with his handwriting—I believe these orders to be in his handwriting—this stamp is a much larger one than we use, and has different words on it.
Cross-examined by Rawlinson. I saw you write when you made the application for employment, and afterwards, during the seven weeks you were in our employ—you were sent out with a cart to get goods—I don't know that you had to write any orders, but you used to make a note of what orders you got—I used to see it as I was standing alongside of you—those were not put on the file, they were thrown into the wastepaper box—I have looked for some handwriting of yours, but have not found it.
JAMES MACK (City Policeman). I was called to take White into custody on 11th November, at Abbott, Anderson and Co. 's—I heard Mr. Renwick ask him about the parcels—he admitted that he had had three parcels previous to that.
EDWIN MASKELL . I live at 19, Meadow Terrace, South Lambeth Road, and am a carman in the employ of Messrs. Barrett, brewers, of Vauxhall—I have known White for about five years, and Rawlinson for about two years, under the name of "Arthur the Masher"—on Thursday, 30th October, as near as I can remember, driving my van in New Bridge Street, I saw White; he was carrying a brown paper parcel, I gave him a lift in my van—I put him down at the corner of the New Cut, in Blackfriars Road—I went with him into a public-house—he said he was travelling in the mackintosh line—he showed me a pattern book with Abbott, Anderson on it—he said he thought he had got a lady's mackintosh that would suit my wife, and he asked me where I lived—I told him the address, and he said he would call on the Saturday evening—he did not call—I did not see him on the Sunday; someone called on the Sunday, but I did not see who it was—on the Monday I saw both the prisoners together at my residence, at the address I had given to White; my wife was present; she is not here, she has been recently confined—they had two parcels, one each, I believe—one parcel was opened by White—it contained a lady's and gentleman's mackintosh—my wife had the lady's one, White fitted it on—they asked me to have the other, I tried it on, but I said I did not want it—White said I should have the two for the same price as the one, and I kept the two, and paid half-a-sovereign that night—White said he would come for the other 10s. next week—one of them was dressed in a light tweed overcoat, and the other in dark tweed—they took the other parcel away with them—I sold the one my wife had, it was about four inches too long, I have got it back, this is the one—I sold the other as well, and have got it back, and produce it—on the following Saturday they came again to my house, I told them my wife's was too long, and they said Rawlinson would get another one—I gave him the balance, 108.; he said he would call on the following Tuesday, but he did not; he did call on some other day; he came alone—he brought a lady's mackintosh—he said he had taken it out of pawn for 7s.—it had been worn—I gave him 10s. for it—this is it—he gave me a pawn-ticket for a lady's
mackintosh pawned with Mr. Davison, in Waterloo Road—I took the ticket; I did not give him any money for it that night—I went to the pawnbroker's and got the mackintosh; it was pawned in the name of A. Newman for 5s.—I produce it; this is the one—I asked where White was; Rawlinson said he had got erysipelas—a few days afterwards Rawlinson called again, and I then paid him 7s. for the pawn-ticket—he made a statement as to where White was, and also offered to bring some cashmere and some lining, but he never came any more—that was the last I saw of him.
Cross-examined by Rawlinson. I sold one mackintosh for 15s.; that was 5s. profit—I paid the first 10s. to White and the rest to you—you bought a coat of me for 4s.
ALFRED WARD (Police Sergeant L). On the 19th November I arrested Rawlinson on a warrant in Lambeth—I said, "There is a warrant for your apprehension for being concerned with a man named White in obtaining twenty-three waterproof coats from Abbott and Anderson, in Watling Street"—he said, "I don't know anybody of the name of White"—I said, "That may not be his right name, I mean the man I have seen frequently in your company at the Rodney public-house—he replied, "I don't know anything about the coats; I never received any money for them"—on the way to the station he passed a key to a woman, and said to her, "Cut away home as soon as you can; you know what to do"—I took him to the station—I asked him his address, which he refused—I knew it, and I went there in a cab, and got there before the woman, and I subsequently apprehended her on another charge—I searched the house, but found nothing relating to this case—I could not find any indiarubber stamp—on one of the remands before the Magistrate I saw Rawlinson in one of the cells—he said he wished to make a statement, and he proceeded to say, "About three weeks ago I was at the Dog and Stile public-house in the Borough with a man named Ray, who I now understand is in custody at the Mansion House, and a man of the name of White; I saw him sell four waterproof coats to a man I knew as a horse-dealer, and who is now in Southwark for the unlawful custody of a waterproof coat for 25s.; I saw him take them away in a parcel; Ray showed me one sovereign and two half-crowns he had received for it"—I commenced to write this down, and he at once objected, and said, "I will not sign any statement, as it would only convict myself; I will swear on my oath to what I have said, if necessary."
Cross-examined by Rawlinson. I commenced to write about a case of fraud and forgery; that was the charge against you then—you said, "I won't sign anything, I should only be convicting myself."
JOHN JONES (City Detective). At one a.m. on 20th November Rawlinson was brought to the office by Sergeant Ward—the warrant was read over to him; he made no reply—I took him to Cloak Lane Station, where he was charged—I found on him fivepence and a pencil—he said he had been searched over the water—the same morning, as I was taking him to the Mansion House, he said, "It is one of the biggest mistakes they have ever made about the writing; I was four years at Hayes' Wharf, Tooley Street; there is plenty of my writing there if they wish to see it, but I know a little bit about it. "ANNIE RAY. I am the wife of Benjamin Ray—I am known as Annie
Newman—I know the prisoners—I lived with Rawlinson for eight days; White was living in the same house with Georgina Yates—I remember seeing Rawlinson write one day, at the beginning of October or November; he was writing on blue paper, a good-sized sheet, larger than these orders—he read out what he had written—it was, "Please to supply bearer with so many ladies' mackintoshes, also with cape, Mr. Goff"—no other name was mentioned—"White was present when it was read out, and he said, "That will do"—I could not speak to Rawlinson's writing; I cannot read—about twenty minutes past five that same day I saw both the prisoners together in Rawlinson's room—on the Friday I saw three ladies' waterproof mackintoshes behind the door—they said to me, "What do you think of these, Annie?"—I said they were very nice—they were none of these—they said they were going to pawn them—I afterwards saw some pawn-tickets on the shelf, with the name of Annie Newman on them—I asked Rawlinson what made him pawn them in that name—he said it did not matter; the first name that came would do—I took the tickets to Mrs. Yates and she read them—I afterwards saw my mother, and left the prisoner—I saw them together once afterwards in a public-house in Westminster Bridge Road; one had a light mackintosh on and the other a dark one—White had a brown paper parcel in his hand.
The prisoners, in their defence, stated that they bought the things of Maskell, but did not know they were stolen.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Hard Labour each.
124. PETER WHITE (35) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling cheques for the payment of £13 18s. 6d. and £10, the property of Stewart Arthur Sempel and another, his masters. There were two other indictments against the prisoner, for forging and uttering endorsements on cheques.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 13th, 1890.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
BEN GREEN . I am a baker of 150, High Street, Harlesden—on December 28th, about 3 p.m., the prisoner came in and asked for two scones, price 1 1/2 d., and gave me a half-crown—I weighed it, and found it was light—she said, "Master, what are you looking at?"—I said, "At your bad half-crown"—I told her to be careful with it, as it was bad, and gave it back to her—she said, "A friend of mine gave it to me"—she paid for the scones, aud left—I followed her, and kept her in view 300 yards—she went to Buckingham Road, where a man was waiting for her—she had a few words with him, and they separated—I gave information to Bartlett.
TOM WALTER . My brother keeps a greengrocer's shop at 216, High Street, Harlesden, and I help him—on 28th December, about quarter to four o'clock, I served the prisoner with two oranges—she gave me a half-crown—I gave her a florin and fourpence change, and put the coin in the till, where there was no other—she left with the change, and
shortly after Detective Bartlett came in and spoke to me, and I showed him the coin—he handed it back to me, and left, and came back with the prisoner—I had given the coin to my mother.
FREDERICK BARTLETT (Detective X). Green gave me information, and I followed the prisoner—it was then shortly after three o'clock—she met a man in Nightingale Road, conversed with him for about a minute, and walked with him about 150 yards; they separated at the corner of High Street, and the prisoner entered Mr. Walter's shop, and came out with an orange in her hand—that was ten or twelve minutes after I commenced to follow her—I entered the shop, and Walter handed me this half-crown; I marked it and returned it to him, and went out and followed her about a mile—she returned to Victor Road, where I stopped her; and said, "I am a police officer, I shall take you in custody for knowingly uttering a bad half-crown at the greengrocer's shop"—she said, "A man gave me two, one was good and one bad; I did not know it was bad till the baker told me"—I took her back to Mr. Walter's shop, and saw young Walter and his mother; he said, "That is the same person who gave me the half-crown"—the mother gave it to me—I took the prisoner to the station and charged her; before the female searcher came she handed me a florin and 5 1/2 d.—she was asked her address, and said that she had no home.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am an unfortunate girl. I had the half-crown given to me, and I wanted to get a night's lodging. I did not know it was bad."
Prisoner's Defence. I thought the half-crown was good. (The prisoner called a witness named Donelly, who stated that he was her husband; he was, therefore, not examined.)
GUILTY— Judgment respited.
127. WALTER WARD (33) , to two indictments for stealing, while employed under the Post Office, 130 circulars and a post parcel, the property of the Postmaster-General.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted, and the evidence was interpreted to Harris.
JOSEPH FOX . I am a smith, of 49, Penton Street, Clerkenwell—at the end of October or the beginning of November Harris and Nash took a room at the top of my house, as man and wife—Harris spoke very good English—Endleman called about twice, and Harris said that he should leave if I could not let Endleman have a room there—I was not able to do so—on 18th December I was in Mrs. Roberts' shop, a neighbour, and
heard her say that some money was bad—Harris was there; he said nothing, but was biting the coin—on the same day I was in Mr. Shearman's shop, 10, Penton Street, close by, who showed me a bad florin—they left on the second day after because I could not accommodate Endleman—I gave information to the police, and on the 19th a detective came and examined the room they had occupied, and I saw him find some broken portions of a mould and some fused metal in the ashes—no one had occupied the room since they left.
Cross-examined by Harris. Nash's sister was living in the house, and I said I would let you have the room when she left, but she did not seem inclined to go, that was before Endleman came—you came down to me and said that as there were quarrels between Nash and her sister you were going away, and I said, "You can't go without giving me a week's notice"—Endleman had been there before that, I think his first appearance was in the week before you left.
HARRY EDWARD SHEARMAN . I am a grocer of 12, Penton Street—on December 18th, between 10 and 11 p.m., Harris came in for some butter, and paid me with a florin; I put it on a shelf and gave him the change—Mr. Fox then spoke to me, and I examined the florin and found it was bad—this is it—next day Nash made a purchase and tendered a florin; I found it was bad, and gave it back to her—I daresay I bent it a little, I think my teeth went into it—I told her it was bad, and she went back and got some smaller money and paid me.
Cross-examined by Harris. I have no till, I put the florin on a shelf with coppers and other money; that was the only florin there—I did not see Nash twice in the shop that morning; I did not see her till next day at 6 p.m.
Cross-examined by Nash. You did not come in between 8 and 9 a.m. for coffee and butter, not till between 5 and 6 p.m.
WILLIAM DURRANT (Police Sergeant G). On 19th December I watched Harris and Nash, and on the 20th I went to 49, Penton Street—Fox pointed out a top bedroom, which I searched, and found in the ashes of the fireplace these pieces of a broken mould, and some fused metal—I went next day with Kidd to 22, Haberdasher Street—the door was locked, we forced it and examined a room there, and on the hob on the right side of the fireplace I found this mould (produced), and on the other hob another mould drying, and in a bag in a cupboard I found ten counterfeit florins of 1883, unfinished, corresponding with one of these moulds, some fused metal, a paper bag, a half-bag of plaster of Paris, a bag of silver sand, two spoons, and in a sack among some ashes, several pieces of what appeared to be broken moulds and fused metal—I compared them with what was found at Penton Street; they were similar—I found on a shelf two packets of cyanide of potassium, two boxes of nitrate of silver, four spoons, a knife smeared with plaster, and a file, with metal in the teeth—a few minutes afterwards Harris and Nash came in, and I told them I should take them into custody for having in their possession implements for manufacturing counterfeit coin—Harris said, "It was not me that made them, I can't make them"; and Nash said, "It is not him that makes them, it is another young man"—I searched Harris and found £1 in gold, 13s. 6d. in silver, and a farthing, all good—among it was a florin of 1872 and one of 1883—I charged them
at the station, and told them what I had found in the ashes—Harris said he knew nothing about it; Nash made no reply—Harris made this statement at the station; I told him that I should take it down: "The man that made the money was up in my room this morning; I do not know what time; I was not at home; I met him where I had my dinner, and I was not there all day; it is a house in a court in Whitechapel, a Jew's restaurant kept by 1 shsky; his name is Alfred Davis; I went out about eleven this morning"—being asked how he came in possession of the coin, he said, "I do not know; I can't make money"—next day, December 22nd, I went to the house in Haberdasher Street and left, and returned about 10.15 a.m., and saw Detective Kidd struggling with Endleman on the floor, and he put up his fist and said, "I will kick your guts in," and kicked me in my hand, dislocating one of my fingers—I overpowered him with Kidd's assistance, and a uniform man who came—I searched him, and found in his left-hand jacket breast pocket six counterfeit florins of 1872 rolled up separately in tissue paper, and what is called a battery penny, copper on one side, and silver on the other, which they silver with, and in good money 10s. in gold, 11s. 3d. in silver, and 1 1/2 d.—there was a florin among the good money; it appears to have been the pattern coin; it looks white, and has plaster on the edge—I took him to the station and charged him—he said, "I found them as I was coming along this morning."
Cross-examined by Harris. You did not say that you had not been at home all day, and when you left in the morning all these things were not in your room.
ANDREW KIDD (Policeman G). I was with Durrant at Haberdasher Street when he found all these things—I was alone in the house on the 22nd, about ten a.m., when a knock came, and Endleman was there—he said, "Is Mr. Harris in?"—I said, "Yes; he is upstairs"—I was in plainclothes—he went up, and I followed him, and declared myself a police-officer—he said, "I am a gentleman, and have come to see my cousin; you won't search me"—I said, "I will not attempt to do so till assistance arrives, but I shall detain you"—he said, "You won't detain me; I will throw you downstairs," and he said he would knock my head off—he caught hold of me, and we both went to the floor, and in the struggle he bit my finger and hit me on my nose—we had been struggling about five minutes when Sergeant Durrant arrived, and later another constable in uniform—I saw Durrant search him, and find a packet of counterfeit coin and the battery penny.
Cross-examined by Harris. At the time this was done you were in custody.
ESTHER HALE . I am married, and live at 22, Haberdasher Street—on December 20th the three prisoners came and wanted furnished rooms—I had only one, which I let to them—they left, and Harris and Nash came back with their boxes in about half an hour, and took possession—I could not accommodate Endleman, but he came on the Saturday morning and went up to their room—I did not hear them go out till the afternoon—I did not go up till the search, and then I saw the things found—the two men went out about 3 p.m., and came in about a quarter to eleven—I only had them there on Friday and Saturday.
Street, I found a small portion belonging to a mould—this is fused metal of the usual kind—these are double unused moulds for florins of 1872 and 1883—these ten florins are unfinished, but have nothing to do with these moulds—this is a double mould for florins and half-crowns, unused—these six florins, found on Endleman, are bad, and from the same mould—this battery penny, nitrate of silver, plaster of Paris, metal spoons, and fused metal are all used for coining—here are three good coins, one of which has been used to make the impression in the mould—this is a bad florin, uttered to Sherman—this file has metal adhering to it.
Harris, in his defence, stated, through the interpreter, that he was only at home at night, that none of the bad money or articles were in his room when he left in the morning, and that he knew nothing about them.
Nash stated that she had lived with Harris four months, and never saw him making bad money, and that Endleman brought the things to the house.
Endleman stated that he knew the coins in his possession to be bad, but knew nothing about making coins.
GUILTY . HARRIS— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NASH (who the Jury recommended to mercy)— Judgment respited.
ENDLEMAN**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, January 14th, 1890.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
MARY DEELEY . I live at 21, Wimpole Mews—I am a widow—during October, November, and part of December last I was taking care of Mr. White's four children while his wife, the prisoner, was in an asylum in Bethnal Green—on 10th December she returned to her husband, but I still continued to take charge of the children; she helped me to wash and dress them—on the morning of 14th December, about ten, Mr. White went out with a carriage—at that time the prisoner and I and the four children were all together in the front room—the prisoner took the three eldest children into the next room, the sitting-room—the two eldest were Joseph Edward, aged about seven, and the second about five—in about five minutes I heard screams in the other room as if from the children—I went to the door, it was fastened—I ran down to the stable and fetched Kelly; he tried the door, but could not open it—he fetched Gibbons, who forced it open, and went in, and I followed him—I saw the second boy lying in the crib dead—I did not see the elder boy—I fetched the baby, who is about six months old, and remained with it till the police came—the prisoner was confined in July—after the prisoner came back on 10th December she several times mentioned about having been sent to the asylum, but she did not see why she should have been; she did not complain of it; that was about all she said—I did not know her before she went to the asylum—I was in the country—when she came back she would wash and dress the children, but she did not take particular notice of them—what she did was done kindly.
WILLIAM GIBBONS . I am butler at 79, Harley Street—about half-past ten, on 14th December, I was called to 21, Wimpole Mews, to the rooms where White lives—I found the inner door fastened; I forced it open—on getting inside I saw the prisoner leaning on the left-hand side of the crib—the boys Joseph Edward and George Wilfred were in the crib, lying side by side—they both appeared to be dead—the prisoner's left arm was leaning on the crib, twisting a dark blue silk handkerchief round George Wilfred's neck—it was tightly twisted—I took it off; I first removed her hand from the eldest boy's mouth—the other boy was dead—I lifted up the younger boy, and saw that he was not dead—I then went for the doctor—I said to the prisoner, "Good God! they are both dead"—she said, "Yes, they are"—I saw the prisoner on the Saturday morning; she looked in a very wild state.
GEORGE ROBSON (Police Inspector D). On the morning of 14th December I went to 21, Wimpole Mews, and in the room upstairs I saw the dead body of the boy Joseph Edward White; the doctor had been there and had left—I told the prisoner I was a police officer, and should take her into custody for causing the death of her son Joseph Edward White by strangling him with a handkerchief—she said, "Yes, I know all about it," and after a pause she said, "If I had not been interrupted I would have finished the four"—she then in a rambling manner accused her husband of having kept her eleven weeks in an asylum—she looked very wild, and her eyes glared; I put her in a cab and took her to the station—on the way she asked me several times if the other boy would recover—I said I thought he would—she said she hoped he would not, as there was nothing for him or the others to live for—at the station when charged she made no reply; she simply bowed.
JOSEPH POLLARD . I am a M. R. C. S. and L. S. A.; I practise at 49, Queen Anne Street—on the morning of 14th December I went to 21, Wimpole Mews, and there saw the dead body of the deceased child—I subsequently made a post-mortem; the cause of death was suffocation, caused by pressure on the chest.
JOHN KENNEDY WILL . I am medical officer of Bethnal House Private Lunatic Asylum, Cambridge Road—on 25th September last the prisoner was admitted as a patient—she had an insane aspect; she was apathetic; she took interest in nothing, and answered questions with great reluctance—after a week she was more communicative—she had an impression that she was a beggar; that she had no money, and her friends were all in very straitened circumstances, and that she had no husband; that she heard voices—these were evident delusions—she said that she knew everything that was going on as to her children—she improved considerably, and on 10th December she was discharged from the asylum by order of the lady who signed her admission; we had no authority to detain her—in my opinion she was not in a fit state to be discharged—I stated that, although she had improved to a certain extent, her mental condition was not satisfactory, and I did not recommend her discharge—the husband took her away, and I recommended him to have someone in constant attendance upon her—in my opinion on the 10th she was not responsible for her actions.
reluctantly—she told me she had done this—she wanted her children to go out of the world as there was no one to look after them, because she intended suicide—she said she was afraid of poverty, and that she had been very wicked—she was very restless and sleepless, and she was continually repeating to herself, "It is quite true"—eventually she expressed sorrow for what she had done—she used to sob very bitterly at times for hours together, and was in a very depressed and melancholy state—she has improved now—I spoke to her about her children—she gave me the impression of being a devoted mother to her children—in my opinion she was not responsible for her actions on 14th December—I think she was insane—she did not appreciate what she was doing—I still consider her insane—she still requires care—she would be unsafe to be about.
GUILTY of the act, but insane at the time. — To be detained during Her Majesty's Pleasure.
MR. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
THOMAS MATCHAM (Policeman Y 494). On Wednesday morning, 1st January, about eight, as I was leaving Wood Green Station, the prisoner came up to me and said, "My name is Eliza Whorlow; I have come to give myself up for murdering my little boy with a razor at 1, Granville Terrace '—I spoke to the acting sergeant, and from what he said I went to the house—the door was opened by Mary Whorlow—I spoke to her, and she called her brother—I went with them upstairs to an attic—I there saw a bed—I moved the counterpane, and a little girl got out of the bed—I saw blood on the bed—I then saw the deceased child lying across the bed, and another child lying asleep in the bed—that was the one that got out of the bed—I saw a wound in the neck of the deceased—he was about eight years old—I saw an open razor on the table with blood upon it—I at once sent for the doctor.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner came to me she looked very curious about the eyes—she looked like a woman out of her mind—I did not believe her statement.
ROBERT FRANCIS TOMLIN , M. R. C. S. I practise at Richmond Villa, Lordship Lane—on 1st January, about nine o'clock, I was called to 1, Granville Terrace, and on going up to the room, where the prisoner was, I saw the body of a child lying across the bed with its throat cut—it had apparently been dead two or three hours—I afterwards examined the body more carefully—the cause of death was loss of blood; the vessels of the neck were divided—there was no sign of any struggle; death must have been very rapid.
MARY WHORLOW . I am a sister of the prisoner's husband—I have been living with him at Granville Terrace for some time before this occurrence—he has been married to the prisoner twenty years—there were three children living, two little girls and a boy, Harold Ernest—they were in the habit of sleeping in the room with the prisoner—the first I knew of this matter was by the police coming to the house—I then went into the room and saw the body of the deceased in the same bed with the other two children—I have known the prisoner a great many
years—during the last twelve years I have lived in the same house with her—all that time she seemed very strange in her manner—I remember her having a stroke of paralysis—the effect of that continued to some extent—she would occasionally go out, but not as a rule—she was very dirty in her habits—she was in the habit of sleeping in her clothes—I have known her at times destroying the linen, tearing up the sheets and table-cloths—they were her own things—she did that without any reason—it was in consequence of her strangeness that I went to live there, to look after the house—on Christmas Day she was upstairs in her sitting-room—she did not want to come down—her brother and brother-in-law brought her down—she has threatened that she would kill her children—she was not an affectionate mother—I have heard her threaten to kill her husband—she was always well looked after—I don't know that she had any feeling towards the deceased child different to the others—she would sit in the dark; she would put out the light and insist on sitting in the dark—no doctor has been called in to her for the last ten years—about ten or eleven years ago a doctor was consulted; I don't remember what about—it was Dr. Foureacre, of Tollington Park, who was consulted about the paralysis—that was after the birth of the child.
Cross-examined. As far as she had any preference it was for the deceased child—she appeared very desponding in manner—she has alluded to her husband being unfaithful, and having women in the house—there was no foundation for that.
FREDERICK COOK . I am a cycle dealer in Upper Street, lslington—I have known the Whorlow family about nine years—I have constantly been a visitor at the house—I have from time to time seen the prisoner there—I have formed the opinion, which I have from time to time expressed, that she was insane, but seemingly harmless and silly—I have several times spoken to her husband as to whether she ought not to be put under restraint, or whether it was not desirable to have an attendant upon her; that was more because of her slovenliness—I never saw any sort of violence—she used to make some curious remarks relative to her husband going out cycling; he is the captain of a cycling club, and I am sub-captain—she seemed to have an idea that her husband paid special attention to some ladies belonging to the club, and she was very jealous about it—at one time she remarked about his being out on a tandem with my wife, which was not true.
Cross-examined. One day I saw her put some unopened letters on the fire; also two leaves from the Graphic; she was constantly doing silly things like that.
PHILIP FRANCIS GILBERT . I am medical officer of Holloway Prison—I have had the prisoner under special observation since 2nd January, when she came there, with the view of forming an opinion as to the state of her mind—I am acquainted with the facts of the case—her manner has been very strange, sitting staring on the ground, as she does now—I spoke to her as to why she killed her child—she said she did it for love; that inward voices were repeating to her, "Don't leave it at home to be beaten," and she said her head was in a whirl at the time—she told me she had had a stroke of paralysis nine years ago, which had caused a loss of power; there are distinct traces of it now—she was continually talking of her husband—she said she loved the boy she had killed, but that it first occurred to her to do it about a year ago, but her courage had failed
her—she always smiled foolishly when spoken to—she is physically in a very bad state of health; she has disease of the heart, and has consumption—she is a chronic lunatic—I do not think that at the time she did this she was responsible for her actions.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say; I wish to die."
GUILTY of the act, but insane at the time — To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, January 14th, 1890.
Before Mr. Recorder.
131. WILLIAM STYRING, alias GALLOWAY (20), PLEADED GUILTY ** to breaking and entering the counting-house of Edward Lindsay Pembroke, and stealing six boxes of cigars, a dress suit, and other articles, after a conviction of felony in July, 1888.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
HENRY GANNY . I am a watchmaker, of 3, Clifton Road, Maida Vale—on 18th December I was at Liverpool Street Station of the Underground Railway—I felt a tug at my pocket, heard my chain rattle, saw a hand and arm, and the prisoner moving away—I followed him, crying "Stop thief!" and kept my eye on him till the constable took him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see your hand touching my watch, but leaving it—it was not removed from my pocket, it was hooked in—it is possible you may have touched my chain by accident.
THOMAS COOPER (City Policeman 895). I was on duty, saw the prisoner running, followed, and caught him—he said, "Why do you lay hold of me?"—I said, "Why were you running?"—he said, "To get an omnibus"—the prosecutor came up and charged him; he said, "I did not do it."
Prisoner's Defence. It is quite true that I pushed up against him, but it was quite an accident if I knocked against his chain. I was running to catch an omnibus.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COLAM Prosecuted.
ALFRED WALLACE . I am an official in the Divorce Registry of the High Court—I produce all the papers in the divorce petition of Thirkettle v. Thirkettle—the husband's amended petition, filed on December 8th, says "That on numerous occasions the said Mary Jane Thirkettle did commit adultery with John Thomas Francis, at Duke Street, and divers other places"—there was a decree nisi in favour of the wife in December, 1889.
ALFRED HENRY LAW . I am a shorthand writer, of 40, Chancery Lane—this is a true transcript of my notes of these proceedings—the prisoner was sworn, and I took down his evidence—he was examined by Mr. Thirkettle, his counsel having given up the case. (In this evidence the prisoner stated that he was a cabdriver, and drove Mrs. Thirkettle and General Francis in June, 1888, from 8, Princes Street to 34, Duke Street,
St. James's, where the name of Bojean was on the door, and they let themselves in with a latchkey, and went in; and that on a second occasion he drove them from Princes Street to the same house, and left them on the doorstep.)
JOHN THOMAS FRANCIS . I was the co-respondent in Mr. Thirkettle's petition against his wife—I was in Court when the prisoner gave his evidence—I was asked to stand up, and the prisoner said, "That is General Francis"—it is false that he ever drove me to Duke Street, St. James's; he has never driven me anywhere that I know of—I have never been driven to Duke Street in my life—I have been to look at the house; another General Francis lives there—he is not my brother; he is in the Indian Service—I never went into that house till after the case was heard, and never had a latchkey to let myself in, and never was driven there or anywhere else with Mrs. Thirkettle—I know her—I have met her at the houses of common friends.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I know the other General Francis, who lives in Duke Street—we are both members of the same club—I did not borrow his key of him.
MARY JANE THIRKETTLE . I was the petitioner against my husband, and the respondent in his petition against me for alleged adultery with General Francis—I was in Court, and heard the prisoner swear he drove me and General Francis to Duke Street—that was not true—I have never been driven there with General Francis or anybody else—I have never been inside that house, nor have I ever been let inside any house in Duke Street with a latchkey—I do not know the General Francis who lives there—I never saw him till yesterday, when I came here.
FRANCIS EDWARD FRANCIS . I am a Major-General in the Indian Army, and have lived at 34, Duke Street, St. James's, three days less than five years—I knew the other General Francis many years in India, but he has never been inside the house during the five years I have lived there—there used to be a foreigner's name, Bojean, over the fanlight; I think it was in gold—Mrs. Gaywood has been the landlady of recent years—I have apartments there—I used to meet General Francis at the same club.
SARAH GAYWOOD . I have been landlady of 34, Duke Street, four years next May, and was there in May and June, 1888; during those months General Francis and Mrs. Thirkettle never came to the house, and that General Francis never had a key of it.
Prisoner's Defence. It is only my oath against theirs.
GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BLACKWOOD Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
LOUISA JONES . I live at 21, Storey Street—on 13th June, 1881, I was present when the prisoner was married to my daughter, at St. Mary's, Newington—she is alive and in Court—he lived with her till August 2nd last year, and married again on the 3rd—this is the certificate.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Since he has been arrested he has been living with his wife—when he went away he left £25 with her—his second wife came down to visit her brother, and then she made the prisoner's acquaintance—I do not know that he is not quite right.
Church, Kentish Town—I knew that his wife was alive; they lived at Maidstone, and I saw them on 3rd June last year.
FREDERICK COBB (Detective Sergeant Y). I produce the two certificates—I examined them with the registers, and found them correct—I took the prisoner at Brixton on 7th December, and told him the charge; he denied the name, and said his name was Anderson, but at the station he said he was very sorry for it; he did not know what he was doing.
Cross-examined. Almost immediately after his arrest he was taken to the workhouse infirmary, in consequence of his strange manner, and was seen by the medical officer—it was reported to the Magistrate that the prisoner was suffering from depression.
GUILTY — Two Days' Imprisonment.
MR. LYNE Prosecuted, and MR. BLACKWELL Defended.
ALFRED MARSH . I am stable assistant to Mr. Crowson—on 20th December, about 4.30 p.m., I was loading my cart outside our premises, 22, Snow Hill, and saw the prisoner cross the road with a box of cheeses—he put it into a pony-cart, covered it up with a sack, and went between the Fish and the Poultry Market—I said, "Have you signed for these, or bought them?"—he made no reply, but walked on—I gave him in charge—he was brought back to the pony-cart, and said he knew nothing of the cart or the cheeses.
Cross-examined. It was just getting dusk—he went fifty yards from the warehouse.
Re-examined. I did not lose sight of him—the cheeses were taken from the doorway; I took them back.
ARTHUR PRYOR . I am warehouseman to the prosecutor—Marsh spoke to me, and I saw the prisoner going across the road with this box (produced) and followed him—he put it on a pony barrow and covered it with a sack—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. I was twelve or fourteen yards from him—it had just begun to get dusk.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries and find nothing against him—I ascertained that there were three men with the barrow.
ARTHUR WILLIAM MYNETT . I am market sergeant in the Central Meat Market—on December 20th, about 4.30, I was at the west gate—the prisoner was pointed out to me, and I arrested him and told him the charge; he said, "He has made a mistake, I don't know anything about it"—Marsh said, "I have never lost sight of him, and am sure it is him"—I saw the barrow, there was "J. C. 69" on it; it was fifty yards from where I took the prisoner, but there were vehicles between.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
4th, about twelve o'clock, I was in a public-house in Whitechapel Road—I saw the prisoners there, they asked me to have some beer—I was sober—I left first, and then two men threw me down in the road; one got on top of me—they took all the money I had, 3d.—I had my key in my hand and was just going to open my door—they heard somebody coming and got up, and ran into the arms of the police—I got up and ran after them—a policeman stopped them and I charged them—I saw that they were the two men I had treated in the public-house.
Cross-examined by Collings. I did not force myself into your company; you said, "Governor, stand a drink?"—I was sober.
Cross-examined by Chambers. I did not give you 3d. to buy bread and cheese—I did not say, "Come and see me home," nor did I fall down.
Re-examined. I did not ask either of the prisoners to see me home.
CHARLES BUCK (Policeman J 130). On January 4th, at 12.10, I was on duty in Whitechapel Road with another constable, both in plain clothes, and saw the two prisoners, and a man not in custody, following thirty yards behind him; they turned at New Road, and I looked round the corner and saw the one not in custody standing against the rails—I walked to Mount Street, and heard somebody call, "Help! Police!"—I blew my whistle, and ran towards them, and saw Dance lying on his back in the gutter, and the prisoners on top of him—Chambers came towards me, and I caught hold of him, and Collings was just in the act of running away when Guildford seized him—Chambers said, "What the b—hell are you doing of?"—Dance came up, and said, "Have you got the two? Yes, those are the two; I have been treating them; I give them in custody for robbery and assault"—he said he had lost threepence or fourpence, and did not care about charging them with that—going to the station Chambers said, "Governor, you have done quite right; if I had been in your place I should have done the same, you have got to get your living as well as I."
Cross-examined by Collings. You had no hat on—I did not watch you from the Rodney's Head—Dance did not say, "I have lost nothing."
DAVID GUILDFORD (J 76). I was on duty with Buck at 12.10 a.m.—we followed the two prisoners who were following Dance—I stopped at the corner of Chapel Street, and heard a whistle; and at the corner of Mount Street I saw Collings without a hat—I stopped him—he said, "What is the matter? what have you got me for?"—Dance came up and said, "That is one and that is the other; I give them both in custody for attempting to rob me and assaulting me"—going to the station. Collings said, "The old man asked me to see him home; I had sooner be dead than alive."
Chambers' statement before the Magistrate."The prosecutor gave me the 3d. at the Rodney; the barman saw it."
The prisoners, in their defences, said that Dance gave them the 3d. in the public-house, and that at the station he said that he had not lost anything, and that the barman saw the 3d. given.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, January 14th, 1890.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. ST. AUBYN Prosecuted.
WILLIAM AUGUSTUS HARRIS. I am a clerk in the Army and Navy Auxiliary Co-operative Stores—I live at 24, Catherine Street, Buckingham Palace Road—on the evening of Boxing Day, between nine and half-past nine I was returning home—I observed somebody following me—it made me rather nervous—I turned my head and looked, and then quickened my steps; the person following me quickened his; then I doubled—when I got to my house there was a gas lamp on the other side of the road, and I saw the prisoner pass me; I am quite certain it was he—I opened my door with my latchkey, when the prisoner fetched me a blow on the left part of my head with his fist—we went down together—next I felt him pulling at my watch-chain—he tried to get it out of my waistcoat pocket, together with my sovereign purse—he got it away from me, and it was in his hand, but I managed to get it away from him—then my landlord came up—he saw the prisoner on top of me, and he followed him—I next saw the prisoner within two or three minutes in Catherine Street—the landlord came up to me, and the prisoner was handed over to the police—I charged him—he began to cry at first, and said I should only have one week to live, I should be poleaxed, or something of that kind—as to the robbery, he said it was not him—I lost a sovereign which was in my waistcoat pocket, not in the purse.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You struck me on the back part of my head; I have a tumour there, and my head was not exactly marked—you tugged at my ring to try and get it off—I afterwards saw you twenty or thirty yards from the house, in the street; you were in the hands of the police; I recognised you directly—a commissionaire stopped you, I believe—I said you were the man that struck me and knocked me down, and endeavoured to rob me.
WILLIAM HENRY CANDISH . I live at 24, Catherine Street—on Boxing evening I came out from No. 28, round the corner—I heard a door fly open, and then saw the light flash out of my door, and I saw the heels of a man kick up; I hastened towards the door—I saw the prisoner rise from his knees and run across the road—I followed him immediately, and caught hold of him—he swung me off him, and ran for twenty or twenty-five yards, and then I overtook him again, and put my hand on his shoulder, and said, "You had better stop and come back"—he said, "I have done nothing"—I said, "I don't know what you have done, but you were on my premises"—he struck at me three or four times, he could not hit me; then he tried to kick me—when he found I did not fall down he tried to run away again—I followed him, and eventually a commissionaire stopped him—I never lost sight of him all the time he was running from the doorway—I am quite sure he is the man who was struggling on the doorstep; he was never two yards ahead of me—my son ran for a constable.
Cross-examined. When the commissionaire had you I came up and took you by the shoulder myself—the prosecutor did not say when he came up that you were not the man who had done it—he said he did not care about charging you, and I said I would charge you because you were on my premises, and I charged you—I had had no drink—I cannot say if the prosecutor had.
Re-examined. I never heard the prosecutor say he did not think he
was the man; he was so frightened he did not know what he was doing.
GEORGE ROSE (Policeman A 176). I was called to Wilford Street, and the prisoner was given into my custody, and charged with attempting to steal from Mr. Harris a gold-plated chain, value 10s., and a sovereign purse—the prisoner said in answer to the charge, "I was not there; I never molested or assaulted the prosecutor"—I searched the prisoner; I did not find a sovereign on him.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said he was going home when he was charged, and he denied ever having assaulted anyone.
GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, January 15th, and Thursday, 16th, 1890.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
139. ERNEST PARKE (29) was indicted for unlawfully and maliciously printing and publishing in a paper called the North London Press a false and malicious libel of and concerning Henry Earl of Euston, to which the defendant put in a plea of justification, alleging that the libel was true, and that it was for the public benefit that it was published.
SIR CHARLES RUSSELL, Q. C., with MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and HART, Prosecuted; MR. LOCRWOOD, Q. C., with MESSRS. ASQUITH and ROSKILL, Defended. The details of this case were unfit for publication.
GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
GUILTY of the attempt — Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 15th, 1890.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
MATILDA PINNER . I am single, and live at 2, Victoria Terrace—on 2nd January, at 7.15 p.m. I was looking out at the window, and saw two men outside, one had a dark coat and the other a light coat—they knocked at Mr. Johnson's door, and I went across to Mr. Puttick, made a communication to him, and then went for a constable—I cannot say whether the prisoner was one of the men—I did not see the men come out of the house—I do not know what became of them after they went in.
No. 10 in my charge, and went to the door; the lock had not been tampered with, but the door was bolted inside—I then went to the entrance of Gilbert Mew's, next door but one; my house stands between—I waited about half a minute, and saw the prisoner come out of the yard; it was dark—I asked who he was—he said he had been to see a pal of his—I said I should detain him—he endeavoured to push past me, but I detained him, and gave him in charge—I had secured the house that day.
MARIA BARNARD . I am single, and live at 3, Victoria Place—on January 2nd, about 7.15, I was at the top of Victoria Terrace, and saw the prisoner and another man with a light coat, and a woman, who turned round and looked at me—they said nothing—I saw the prisoner's face—it was light—I saw him again ten minutes afterwards, and gave him in custody—four days afterwards I picked him out from a group at Dalston Station.
HARRY BENJAMIN JOHNSON . I am a shipbroker, of 10, Victoria Terrace—I gave the key to Mr. Puttick on the Saturday before Christmas Day—on January 3rd I came back, went to a bedroom on the first floor, and found two small jewel boxes or trinket cases had been taken off a chest of drawers, and the contents emptied on the bed, but not taken away.
JAMES STENNING (Policeman Y 447). On 2nd January Mr. Puttick gave the prisoner into my custody—I asked his name—he said, "George Hendley"—I asked his address—he said, "Balls Pond Road"—I asked the number—he refused to give it to me—I asked why he went down the mews—he said, "To ease myself"—I took him to the station.
WILLIAM SCULPHEE (Policeman Y 246). On January 2nd I examined No. 10, Victoria Terrace, and found somebody had been over the backyard into the mews, and I found this jemmy in the mews at the rear of No. 10.
CHARLES BRADLEY (Police Inspector). On 2nd January I took charge of the prisoner—before the charge was taken I said, "What is your address?"—he said, "I don't want to tell you; my wife is very ill, and if you go there it will upset her"—I said, "How do you account for this mud on your hands?"—he said, "That is from my work"—I said, "The centre of your hand is perfectly clean"—he said, "I cannot account for it"—I said, "Where have you been at work?"—he said, "I have not done any work to-day."
Cross-examined. You said you worked for Mr. Stevens, of Seven Sisters Road—I saw him—he said you had been at work for him for three years up to four months ago, and gave you a good character.
Prisoner's Defence. If I had been guilty I should not have waited five minutes for the arrival of a constable. I was not with other men, and if I had been climbing walls I should have had mud all over my clothing.
NOT GUILTY .
142. HENRY LYNCH (23) was indicted (together with FRANK M'CARTHY , not in custody) for feloniously causing grievous bodily harm to Granville Coote, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm. Second Count, to disable. Third Count, to prevent his lawful apprehension.
MESSRS. BODKIN and ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted.
Park—on the evening of 21st December I went to 18, Chadwick Street—I rent the house, and sub-let part of it to a man named McCarthy—there was a disturbance there; McCarthy and his wife were kicking the daughter—I told them not to kick her, it was bad enough to hit her—McCarthy made several blows at me—young McCarthy was not then in the room; they sent a little boy after him, but he did not come—I then crossed the road to my door, No. 6; young McCarthy ran after me and attacked me; I ran away from them into a baker's shop, Mr. Korle's, and went behind the counter—they followed me, and McCarthy made several blows at me, but did not hit me—I could see an iron bar under Lynch's coat on the left side—Crouch was in the shop buying bread—he said, "I will have no disturbance here; I am a police officer"—I asked him to see me home—a constable was passing the shop, and Crouch referred me to him, and when I got outside, McCarthy knocked me down with his fist, and also knocked Coote down, and Lynch beat him with the iron bar more than once after he had fallen—he struck him on the head and on the body too—I did not know what the quarrel was about—I had no quarrel with Lynch or young McCarthy—I never spoke to them in my life.
WILLIAM KORLE . I am a baker, of 44, Great Peter Street, Westminster—on 21st December, about ten or half-past ten, I was in my parlour; Tanner came in, and went behind the counter—Lynch and McCarthy came in, and McCarthy made a blow at Tanner, but did not Teach him—Crouch came in in plain clothes to buy some bread; he said he was a police-officer, and he would not have a disturbance in the shop; if they wanted to fight they must go outside—they did so; Tanner stayed in the shop—a constable in uniform came right up to the door—Crouch then said something to Tanner, who went out to the constable—I then heard a noise, went out, and saw the constable in uniform on his face on the ground, and Lynch giving him blows on the back of his head with an iron bar—the blows fell on his helmet, and then he gave him another blow with the same bar on his shoulder-bone—Crouch pushed him away from the man on the ground, or he might have had more blows—I saw Lynch give Crouch a blow on the forehead with the same bar, and then go away—Coote got up and ran after him, but fell down—I went back to my shop, and let Tanner out by the back door; his mouth was bleeding—I did not see who knocked him down.
STANLEY CROUCH (Policeman A 530). On the night of 21st December I went to Korle's shop—I was in plain clothes, off duty—I saw Tanner behind the counter; he and McCarthy seemed to be talking against one another—there was a female assistant there—McCarthy said to Tanner, "Come outside, and we will pay you"—Lynch was with McCarthy—I said I was a police officer, and ordered them out, and they went out—Tanner said, "If you are a police officer I claim your protection to see me home"—just then Police Constable 126 passed the shop in uniform—I pointed him out to Tanner, who went out to him; I followed half a minute afterwards, and I saw McCarthy strike Tanner on his face with his fist—126 went between them, and I saw McCarthy strike him with his fist and knock him down—Lynch then struck him twice about the head and body with a piece of iron bar about three feet in length and as thick as a man's thumb—I pushed Lynch away, and he turned round and said, 'You are another of the b—s," and struck me across the head with
the iron bar, which rendered me insensible—when I came to I was at home; I have since been under the doctor's care—I still feel the effects of the injuries; I was cut by the blows—on 25th December I picked the prisoner out from a number of men—the warrant was read to him—he said he did not consider a man in a baker's shop in plain clothes on duty—I heard him say before the Magistrate, when I was under examination, "I was not there."
GRANVILLE COOTE (Policeman A 126). On the night of 21st December I was on duty in Great Peter Street, and passed Mr. Korle's shop—a disturbance was going on outside, and before I could get any explanation I was struck on my left eye by a fist, which knocked me down—I could not see who struck me—I next found myself in bed at the Stationhouse two hours after—I then found a bruise behind my ear, which was very painful; I stopped in bed two days, and have not been on duty since—I am still suffering; my head is painful, I feel dizzy and stiff—this (produced) is the helmet I was wearing—it was perfect when I put it on—I do not remember seeing Lynch or McCarthy before.
FRANCIS ALFRED PEARCE . I am a surgeon—my partner is Divisional Surgeon of Police—on 21st December, about 11.30 p.m., I was called to the Rochester Row Police-station, and saw Coote—he was quite stupid., and unable to give any account of himself; he was very pale, and had a small, intermittent pulse—he complained of pain on the side of his head, and I found he had a slight swelling behind and above his right ear; also a swelling on his cheek under his left ear, but no wound—he had retained his helmet, and I found an indentation on the metal band, corresponding to the part at which he complained of pain, and the bronze was taken off, leaving the metal bright—he was suffering from concussion, and was put to bed, and has been under my care up to the present time—he was better for the first two or three days, then he had a relapse, and was in bed another week—I do not think it will have a permanent effect upon him; he will be able to go on duty in a week or ten days—the injury was caused by some heavy instrument—this iron bar would account for it; a fall would not—I also attended Constable Crouch.
THOMAS PRESCOTT (Policeman A. R. 72). On 21st December, between ten and eleven, I went to Great Peter Street—I found Coote standing up; he had a black eye; he was in an unconscious state—I asked him what had happened, and he could not tell me—I took him to Rochester Row Police-station, and a surgeon was sent for.
THOMAS HAWKINS (Detective A). On the morning of 25th December I saw the prisoner in Peter Street—I said to him, "Here, Johnny, I want you for assaulting two constables on the 21st"—he said, "I know nothing about it; I was in the Haymarket"—I said, "All right; I shall take you to Rochester Row"—I did so, and placed him among several other men, and Crouch identified him—I read the warrant to him, and he said, "I know nothing about it"—he was charged, and then said, "I do not consider a policeman in a baker's shop in plain clothes to be on duty"—I had been in his company from the time of his arrest till he was charged—nothing had been said about a baker's shop, nor was there anything about a baker's shop in the warrant.
WILLIAM LYONS (Police Inspector A). I was in charge at the station when Lynch was brought in on the morning of the 25th—Crouch identified him directly he saw him—I read the warrant, for assaulting Stanley
Crouch—he said, "I do not consider a man in a baker's shop on duty"—I said, "Was he in a baker's shop?"—he said, "Yes, I saw him there," and then he added," but I took no part in the disturbance"—he did not say then where he was, but directly he was brought in he said, "I was not in the neighbourhood; I am not the man you want," and then came the observation about the man in the baker's shop.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not say I saw him in the shop—I said I was told he was there; I know nothing at all about it; I was coming home from work, and the detective said, "Your name is Davis. "I was put with five tall men, and I am a little man, and the constable said, "That is the man."
GUILTY **— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour, and Twenty-five Strokes with the Cat.
MR. BLACK Prosecuted.
RICHARD HUNT . I live at 49, Johnson Street, St. Pancras—I have lived with the prisoner some time—on 27th December we were keeping up Christmas—we had both been getting drunk for a week previous—we went home together drunk on the 27th; we were alone, and had some words, I don't know about what—I started breaking up my home, a struggle took place, and I found myself stabbed on my upper lip—I was taken to the infirmary—it was as much my fault as my mistress's—my lip is well now.
DANIEL PALMEA (Police Inspector Y). I took the charge, and read it over to the prisoner—she said, "Yes, I did it with a black-handled knife, which you will find in the room"—she showed me some marks on her neck where she had been struck—I went to the room, and found this black-handled knife, the only one there.
JOHN THOMPSON . I am a surgeon—I was called to a second floor back room in Johnson Street, and found Hunt walking about the room in drink, and bleeding very profusely from a cut on his upper lip, about an inch long, right through the lip—three arteries were severed—I bandaged them up, and he tore it off—he was not violent, but restless; he was sufficiently drunk to be nasty—as the bed and the floor were covered with blood, I sent for an ambulance, and took him to the workhouse, and with the assistance of the surgeon there tied the arteries, but he very nearly died from loss of blood—this knife would inflict the wound.
Prisoner's Defence. It was done in the struggle; he was knocking me about, and we both fell together. I was struggling to get out of his way.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. To enter into her own recognisances in £10 to keep the peace, and to come up for judgment if called upon.
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
SOLOMON HYAMS . I am a carman, of 510, Mile End Road—on December 19th, about 7 p.m., I was in Cemetery Lane, Bow—it is a lonely place; I went down Wellington Road and heard steps behind me; I went to the first lamp, which was alight, and made a full stop, turned round, and saw the prisoner and another man; I had seen them before very often—one of them gave me a blow under my ear with some instrument, which knocked me down—I screamed "Murder!" and "Police!"—one said, "Give him another one," and I got another blow on my head—the prisoner laid on top of me and tore my trousers pocket out, containing a sovereign and two half-crowns, which were safe there five minutes before I left home—they ran away through a passage—I got up, but lost sight of them—I gave information—on the 21st I saw the prisoner with five others outside the Royal Hotel, Mile End Road, and asked a constable to take him; the other sran away—I said, "This is the man who kicked me and punched me on the mouth, and took the money out of my pocket"—he made no reply—I was sober; I should know the other man if I saw him.
Cross-examined. This did not take much more than two minutes.
EUGENE BRADSHAW (Detective K). On December 21st Hyams pointed out the prisoner to me with others at the Royal Hotel, and said, "That is one of the men who robbed me"—he said, "Oh, sir, it was not me; I am innocent."
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "Last Thursday, at 5. 15, I called at Armstrong's, Brook Street, and stayed there till ten minutes to ten. I have witnesses."
Witnesses for the Defence.
ELIZA ARMSTRONG . I am married, and live at 37, Brook Street, Ratcliff—on the Thursday before Christmas Day I was making a pudding for Christmas—prisoner, who I knew, called about 5 p.m., to see my husband, who was away at work—he stayed till a little after ten, and then left, my husband not being back—he stopped there the whole of that time with me and my married daughter, and the lodger.
Cross-examined. I have known him two years—he is no relation of mine—a young fellow told me on the Sunday morning that he was locked up, but did not say what he was charged with—I went to the Police-court on the Monday, but was not examined—I was examined on the 27th—I went in after Eliza McKenzie was examined—I was asked on what day the robbery occurred, and said that my husband had a holiday that day, but I made a mistake—we occupy the lower part of the house, and let the rest—the prisoner came into the kitchen on the ground floor—I opened the door to him—my daughter was there, and I called Mrs. Bowden, my lodger, down—the only refreshment the prisoner had there was a pint of ale, which was sent out for—I don't know who went for it.
Re-examined. He is no relation of mine, but he is a relation of my son's, who is dead—I added to my evidence, "My husband had a holiday that day," but I made a mistake; it was the Thursday after Christmas, not the Thursday before.
ELIZA MCKENZIE . I am the daughter of the last witness, and live with her—on the Thursday before Christmas Day, at a little past five o'clock, the prisoner came there and brought a little money to my father, who was out, and he waited for him, and left at ten o'clock, or a little
after—he was there the whole time—Mrs. Bowden came down at six o'clock.
Cross-examined. I was the first witness examined—I said, "I knew it was Thursday father had a holiday from work"—it now appears that my father had not a holiday; it was Boxing Day—I was examined on the Friday after Christmas Day, but he has fourteen days' holiday—when I was at the Police-court I had heard that a policeman had been to my father to find out whether he had a holiday, and then I found out my mistake—the prisoner comes occasionally to see my father; I cannot tell you how often—I am not at home—I happened to be at home that evening, making mother's Christmas pudding—we sat in the kitchen, which is on the ground floor—we had one pint of ale between four people—he left at a little after ten o'clock; I know St. James's clock struck—we have an American dial there, which my husband brought home, and by looking at that I knew at what time the prisoner came; and by my father, because he is so punctual.
Re-examined. My father did not come home that night—I am not always at home when he comes home—when the Magistrate asked me about my father having a holiday I thought that referred to Boxing Day—the pudding was made before Christmas, not afterwards.
MARY BOWDEN . I live at 37, Brook Street—I remember the Thursday before Christmas when my landlady was making a pudding, I was called down about six o'clock and saw the prisoner—my landlady and her daughter were there—I remained downstairs some time; Mr. Armstrong was out—the prisoner left about ten.
Cross-examined. On the Sunday Mrs. Armstrong said to me, "You were in the kitchen," and asked me to give evidence at Arbour Square—I went there, but not till the Friday after Christmas; I was then examined—I told the Magistrate about the Christmas pudding—I heard my evidence read over, but did not notice that there was nothing about the Christmas pudding—I go down and help so often that I do not think of little things—I have often sat in the kitchen and had ale.
Re-examined. A young man came on the Sunday afternoon and told the landlady that the prisoner had been taken in custody, and when I heard that I remembered that he had been there on the Thursday before.
GUILTY . †— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, and Twenty-five Strokes with the Cat.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 15th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
145. GEORGE LATRIDGE (21) and FREDERICK SMITH (24) , Feloniously stealing two post letter-bags containing letters and postal packets, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster General. Second Count, stopping Charles Lancey, with intent to rob a certain mail, then conveying post letters. Third Count, stopping the mail with intent to search.
MR. H. C. RICHARDS Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
Mr. GEOGHEGAN took objection to the indictment as containing three distinct felonies. After consulting the RECORDER, the COMMON SERJEANT ruled that
the Second and Third Counts were merely variations of the same charge, but that the First Count charged a distinct felony, and the prosecution must, therefore, elect whether they would proceed on the First or on the Second and Third Counts. MR. RICHARDS elected to proceed on the Second and Third Counts.
CHARLES LANCEY (Policeman Y 549). On 23rd December last I was employed as an auxiliary postman, attached to the N. W. District post office—I was dressed in plain clothes with an armlet on my right arm—on that evening I collected the letters from the Euston Road pillar-box, the Midland Station pillar and bracket boxes, the Phœnix Street Receiving-house, and the Charrington Street pillar-box—at Phœnix Street I had a registered letter and some foreign letters given me; those were in this green bag, and in this sack I had ninety-one letters; the bag and sack were tied together and over my shoulder, the green bag hanging in front, and the sack behind—I was going along Crowndale Road about ten minutes past five in the direction of the N. W. district office, Abbershot Road—I saw the prisoner and another man walking arm and arm—when I got level with them I stepped on to the edge of the pavement to allow them to pass—Smith butted me in the stomach with his head and sent me sprawling in the road—I did not let go of my bags—I jumped up on the pavement and told him that I was a postman, and that these were mail bags, and that they had better let me alone—Latridge at once dodged his head between my legs and tripped me up again, and we seized one another and struggled together in the roadway up and down several times; he got hold of the bags, trying to take them away—while we were so struggling Smith was trying to get Latridge away from me—Latridge tripped me up again, and we both fell and struggled together on the ground—Latridge got, for a second or two, the bags away from me, while we were on the ground, and Smith and the other man stood over us, and Smith struck me across the head with his belt, and the other man kicked me about the legs—I got up again, and shouted "Police," still struggling—Sergeant Ellerby came up in plain clothes, and I said, "Sergeant, these men have assaulted me, and they are trying to take these bags away"—the sergeant at once seized hold of Latridge, and I seized hold of Smith, and we took them to the station, where they were charged—this is Latridge's belt, and this is Smith's.
Cross-examined. I have recovered now—when I first saw the prisoners and the other man they were coming towards me—it was getting dark, and a little foggy—my armlet was not very visible—the three men as they came towards me were arm-in-arm—they were not shouting or singing, but they were talking rather noisily—I heard them 20 yards off—I stepped to the edge of the pavement to allow them to pass, because there is just room enough for four level, not so much on account of their noisy conduct—I took no notice of them at the time—they were arm-in-arm, and took up nearly the whole of the pavement—I had a regular up and down struggle in the middle of the road with Latridge, the other two men assisting him and assaulting me—at the time he got the bags away from me for a second or two the other two were standing over me—I and the sergeant and the other constable who came up were all in plain clothes—the prisoners had been drinking.
Re-examined. After I had been butted in the stomach the first time I told them I was in the Post-office employment and carrying the bags.
ROBERT ELLERBY (Police-Sergeant Y 63). On 23rd December, about a quarter past five, I was passing through Crowndale Road, St. Pancras, in plain clothes—I heard a cry of "Police!" and saw the two prisoners with another man—Latridge had hold of the letter bag, or bags, and was trying to get them from Lancey—I knew Lancey after having a good look at him; he was covered with mud, his face and hair, from rolling in the mud—I said, "Is that Lancey?"—he said, "Yes, these men are trying to get the letter bags from me"—I said, "Hold on, this is a postman, and these are letter bags"—the man not in custody was about to strike Lancey from behind—I knocked him down, and saw no more of him—I went to Lancey's assistance, and took hold of Latridge—he became violent, and struck me several times in the face, and I called on Moore for assistance—Smith was standing behind with the third man striking at Lancey—Lancey is in my division; I should say he has been in the Force seven or eight years; he was at this station before I was.
Cross-examined. Moore was with me when I came up—he is an old man, and his eyesight may not be so good as mine—he was pensioned, and not in the Force at this time—the Post Office authorities were represented at the Police-court at the first hearing—I made no written report to anyone—the charge on the charge-sheet was for assaulting the constable and me, and a charge in connection with letter-bags as well, attempting to steal them, I believe—the charge-sheet is not here—I think the charge first preferred against the prisoners was assaulting Lancey, and attempting to steal two letter-bags—I have given evidence in Court before—I said at the Police-court, as I have said here, that at the time I came up I saw that Latridge had hold of the letter-bags, and I thought he was trying to get them away; he did not do so—I have sworn before to-day that Latridge was trying to get them away. (It appeared from the depositions that the witness had not so stated at the Police-court)—at the station the prisoners simply gave their names and addresses, and what they were—they were detained all night, as far as I know—I believe their mother came next day, and made inquiries about her sons—we are supposed to make ourselves acquainted with descriptions of criminals wanted, published in the Hue and Cry every day—I do not know how the name and address of the third man came into the Hue and Cry—I won't swear it was from information given by Mrs. Latridge—I saw her at the station the next day—no one gave the name and address of the other man—she gave the name of a man, but no address—I cannot say what that man was—if we had known him we should have gone after him, but we had no description or address, nothing to go by—one of the prisoners gave a false address—Latridge gave the address, 95, Drummond Street, and said he was a coal-porter—no one is here from there, I believe—Smith said he lived at 13, Leicester Place, Leicester Square—I did not take that down at the time; I did some time after I was at the Police-court. (It appeared from the depositions that the witness said at the Police-court the address was 3, Leicester Place)—I did not call at 3 nor at 13, Leicester Place—Lancey told me it was 3, Leicester Place—Smith might have told me it was 13 or 3, but he actually lives at 3, Lancaster Place, Munster Square—I cannot actually say whether the address given was 3 or 13, Leicester Square—I was assaulted myself; I
was not laid up on the sick-list through it—I received no injuries—Lancey and Latridge were standing on the pavement when I came up, and the other two men were behind them.
Re-examined. I have ascertained where the two prisoners live together.
THOMAS MOORE . I am a pensioned police sergeant, and live at 20, Brick Road, Upper Holloway—at a quarter past five on the evening of 23rd December, I was with Ellerby in the Crowndale Road—I heard shouts of "Police!" and ran up and saw Smith had hold of Lancey—I pulled him off and held him—at the same time I picked up a brown felt hat from the road and put it on Smith's head—I said, "What are you doing?"—he said, "Who are you? what has it to do with you?"—I made no reply, but held him—he took the hat off and said, "That is my hat"—Ellerby was struggling with Latridge, who became very violent and struck Ellerby—Ellerby asked me to go to his assistance; Lancey seized Smith—I caught Latridge's right arm and held on by it, and assisted Ellerby; and Latridge said he would not go any further until he had dressed himself—he buttoned up his waistcoat and put a belt, which I cannot identify, round his waist—Ellerby and Latridge had the bags between them, struggling with them, when I came up, I was busy with Smith—Latridge and Ellerby were holding the bags in their hands, puling them—Latridge went quietly to the station—I was over thirty years in the police force—I am fifty years old next birthday.
Cross-examined. The prisoners had evidently been drinking.
CHARLES HODDY . I am acting-inspector of the North-Western District Post-office—on 23rd December Lancey was on duty as an auxiliary postman, and it was his duty to make the 4.40 collection from Phoenix Street and various pillar-boxes in the district, and take it to the Northwestern Office—these two bags were supplied to him, the green for registered and foreign letters, and the other for ordinary letters—these bags were brought to me in the office at a quarter to six on that evening, from Somers Town Police-station—the green bag contained one registered and seven foreign letters, and the canvas bag 91 ordinary letters—I saw Lancey at half-past six.
Cross-examined. There was 99 letters in all—there would be some correspondence as well as Christmas cards, and there may have been Christmas presents going by ordinary letters, as well as by parcels post.—part of the neighbourhood where Lancey collected is very poor—the only valuable boxes he would collect would be those at the Midland—this was Laneey's first day of employment—he started at 12 o'clock—there are printed notices on the boxes when they would be cleared, those hours are adhered to.
Re-examined. Some orders and cheques are sent by parcels post, I believe.
ROBERT ELLERBY (Re-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN). I ascertained from their mother that both prisoners are married; that they had been at work in the morning, and gone to a funeral in the afternoon—I said that at the Police-court.
The prisoners received good characters from several witnesses.
NOT GUILTY .
Nine Months' Hard Labour each.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, January 16th, 1890.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. KEMP, Q. C., and MR. GRAIN Prosecuted.
EDWARD BASIL DENTON . I am a stockbroker, of 11 and 12, Clement's Lane—the prisoner was my clerk, and was under notice to leave—I last saw him on Tuesday, October 8th; he did not come back—I found my pass-book in my desk, and looked through it on the 11th, and saw an entry of £60 to my debit—I then went to my bank, and saw the sub-manager, and obtained the number of a cheque, and found that two cheques and their counterfoils had been removed from my cheque-book—there are two cheques on a page, and one page between 20,124 and 20,127 was gone—I had not torn them out, or given anyone authority to do so; nor did I sign either of the cheques which was torn out, or give them to anybody to sign; I do not sign cheques in blank—there are only three persons in my office with myself—the cheque-book was on my desk during business hours, and the prisoner could get access to it—this £50 note is endorsed "A. E. Kirke, 13, Size Lane," in the prisoner's writing—I did not give him this cheque—I lent him £15 to save his furniture from being sold, and he gave me an I O U for it, which I cannot find—that was not a portion of a larger sum to be lent—I did not make him a promise to lend him a little money.; I said I could not afford it—I have never been paid the £15—I heard the prisoner cross-examine George Pennell at the Mansion House, and the prisoner said, "I did cash that cheque there."
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have one cheque-book in the office, and one at home, which my wife and servants have access to, but they only represented one account at the bank—I always have my cheques returned; they are never filled in by anybody else—I sometimes left my office cheque-book on my desk for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour and went out, leaving you and Kempson there—you were with me from July to October—the office was never left to my knowledge—you said that you wrote for a paper called Money, but it was not understood that you were to have a few hours every day to yourself; you were to do my work—I paid you £1 1s. a week—I heard that you were often out—I usually came at 10. 20 a.m., opened my letters, and went to Throgmorton Street to Messrs. Raine, and to Phillips and Gill's, but not for the whole—the key was left with the housekeeper at night, and I asked him for it in the morning—I am not a partner, in Rayne and Co.—only you and Kempson had power to obtain blank cheques—Rayne and Co. have a telegraph to John Shaw—I never had a partner, and if you say that you have seen a letter saying that my partner robbed me, you tell a lie—I have never torn counterfoils out of my cheque-book—I see that the counterfoil of cheque 20,129 is torn out—this is the first time I have noticed that—the cheque answering to it has not been presented to my
knowledge, and I have not stopped it—you would know exactly how much I had in the bank.
Re-examined. I did not draw a cheque for £60 from my private account that day—this £5 note has on it, "A. E. Kirke, 13, Size Lane," in the prisoner's writing.
GEORGE PENNELL . I am a cashier at the City Bank, Queen Victoria Street—on 8th October I paid a cheque for £60, No. 20,146, purporting to be signed by Mr. Denton, with a £50 note 21,314, and two £5 notes, 97,586 and 87—I cannot remember the person—the cheque would be put in the pocket of the pass-book in the ordinary course, and returned to the customer.
Cross-examined. Mr. Denton fills in the body as well as the signature—I know his writing.
LEIGH KEMPSON . I am Mr. Denton's clerk—the prisoner has been a clerk there about three months—this original telegram is in his writing: "Received at the office 11.40, handed in at Cannon Street office 11.48, lock up, please meet me at Cannon Street Station, KIRKE"—I received a copy of that, and went to Cannon Street Station about twelve o'clock and met the prisoner—he asked me to go to the City Bank and get Mr. Denton's pass-book—he went with me but did not go in—I went in and asked one of the clerks for the pass-book, and got it, and gave it to the prisoner outside without opening it; he put it in his pocket and we both walked back, not quite to Cannon Street Station—there is a fruit-shop close by, and he gave me fourpence to buy some nuts, which I did, and gave them to him, and he made me a present of them—I was about two minutes in the fruiterer's shop, and could not see him when I was in the shop—he gave the pass-book to me at the corner of King William Street, and then got on an omnibus—I took the pass-book to the office, and put it in a drawer—I never took anything out of it.
Cross-examined. I said at the Mansion House, "I received a telegram on Thursday; I went to Cannon Street about three p.m. "; that was a mistake as to the time—when I was cross-examined upon it I said that the telegram came about 2.20—I believe I said, "I am sure as to the time"—I can't tell how I came to make that mistake—I have a watch, and there are plenty of clocks in Cannon Street—I found out that I had made a mistake when I saw the inspector of the tape machine—I have very often gone into that fruiterer's—I never worked for you in my spare hours.
LEONARD CLARENCE BROOKS . I am an official of the Bank of England—I produce £50 note 21,314 and two £5 notes—I changed the £50 note for gold; there was a name and address on the back of it, the same as is on one of the £5 notes.
Cross-examined. The £5 note with your name on it was paid in on 14th October, 1889, by the London and County Bank, to their credit with us—I don't know who they cashed it for.
PERCY FITCH . I am a junior clerk at the Queen Victoria Street branch of the City Bank—it is part of my duty to enter in customers' pass-books the paid cheques from the cheques themselves—I made up Mr. Denton's pass-book on October 9th, and put into it all the cheques which had been cashed; that was the usual custom—the debit of £60 in this pass-book is my writing; I entered it from a cheque.
Cross-examined. I do not make up the credit side.
GEORGE PENNELL (Re-examined by the Prisoner). If Kempson paid in a cheque for £40 odd at a few minutes before four o'clock, it would appear in the pass-book on the same day, and before it was cleared; we should debit it again if it was not paid.
WILLIAM JOHN FLEUSTER (City Police Sergeant). I was at the station when the prisoner was searched—seventeen keys were found on him, one of which fits Mr. Denton's drawer, where his cheque-book was kept.
Cross-examined. Some of the drawers were locked, and some not—this is the only key which undid the lock, and it seems a new one; it has an indiarubber ring on it.
JAMES AUSTIN (City Detective). I received information, and on 12th October found the prisoner walking across Hackney Downs with his wife—I told him I was a police officer from the City, and should arrest him on a charge of forgery—he said, "What is it?"—I said, "Forging and uttering a cheque for £60 on the City Bank"—he said, "I don't understand it; I am not guilty of anything of the sort"—I took him to the station; he was searched, and about £13 was found on him, mostly in gold—while the charge was being taken he said, "I can see through it all now; this is a plant for me."
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that Mr. Denton promised him a cheque to get him out of trouble with a syndicate, and to take charge of that department and take an office. That a prospectus was drawn up, and the cheque was brought to him with the word "order "crossed out and "bearer "inserted, with Mr. Denton's initials and a message from him; and believing it came from him he went to the bank with it himself, and cashed it openly, which he should not have done if he wanted to hide anything, and would also have asked for small notes, and would hare put a false name and address on the notes instead of his own; that Mr. Denton had repeatedly promised him this money, and when it. came he was not surprised to receive it, and that Kempton's evidence was all false. He called the following witnesses:—
WILLIAM DAVID BARNES . I am lodge-keeper at 13, Size Lane—the prisoner lodged there, and left some time last year because he could not pay his rent; but his letters continued to be left there, and he called for them once or twice a week—an inventory was made of his furniture—I do not know Mr. Denton—he has not called to see me, or spoken to me about the forged cheque.
HENRY SCHARTAN I am an addressing contractor for envelopes—this letter (produced) is my writing; I wrote it on October 10th, in answer to one I had that morning, dated the 9th, from the prisoner, asking me to meet him at Cannon Street Station—I answered it, saying that I was unable to meet him.
WILLIAM DENNIS . This letter (produced) is my writing: "Please kindly meet me at the corner of Walbrook, at twelve on Thursday next"—I was in the habit of meeting the prisoner at Walbrook, and sometimes at Size Lane, and doing business together—I have cot the letter you wrote to me, and the envelope as well—we met at Walbrook about twelve o'clock, and went to Cannon Street Station—you said you had another appointment—I waited there with you probably fifteen minutes, and you said you felt very ill, and should go home—we then went up Walbrook to the Mansion House, where you said, "There is my omnibus," and jumped on the footboard of an omnibus going to Broad Street—that was Thursday, October 10th.
Cross-examined. This is a letter I received from the prisoner; it is dated October 5th—it states, "I have postponed going for a week"—that means going out of town—I replied to that on the 8th, Tuesday, I think—it was the 10th when I met the prisoner—he did not tell me that he had made the other appointment by telegram—I have some doubts whether this original telegram is the prisoner's writing—this letter has no envelope—I wrote that on the 8th, at 23, Margaret Street—Dennis is ray right name; I never went by any other name—I was never known as Mr. Cass, or any name like it—I. never heard it before to-day—I saw the prisoner yesterday; he is only a friend in business—I am the person who served Mr. Denton with notice to produce, the prisoner asked me to do it—no one else saw me at Cannon Street station at twelve o'clock—I did not ask the prisoner with whom the appointment was—I know that he called witnesses at the Police-court to prove an alibi, but I was not one of them—I was with him about half an hour—he did not go to my office in Margaret Street to see me, because it would be out of his way and mine too—I addressed the envelope to his private house, 39, Mayole Road, Clapton—I was to see him to obtain some lists of the company's shareholders—I got them—I have used them—they were not dated—I first heard that the prisoner was being charged after he went to the Mansion House—we afterwards met by appointment and exchanged lists of company's shareholders—I gave him 5s. per thousand, about fifteen five shillings, and took a receipt which I have not got here.
Re-examined. I should not want to go to Margaret Street when you asked me to meet you at Moorgate Street—I have done business with you for three years—I did not know you were working for Mr. Denton—I went with you to Cannon Street, because you expected someone to meet you, and you said, "I shan't stay any longer, it does not seem as if he would come"—I gave you about 5,000 names that morning.
E. B. DENTON (Re-examined). I found my pass-book returned to my office on Friday, the 11th, the very day I went to the bank.
SARAH CHURCH . My mother and I reside in unfurnished lodgings with the prisoner—he does not board with us—on Monday, the 14th, my mother told me that he was arrested—I recollect a stranger coming to ask if I could recollect what time Mr. Kempe went out—he said he came from Mrs. Kempe—I gave him an answer—on Thursday, October 10th, I was at Mr. Watherton's, a butcher's, where I work, and saw the prisoner get off an omnibus about 1. 7—I did not often see him, and very rarely spoke to him—the omnibus came from Oxford Street—he met his little boy at the corner, and went towards his house—the omnibus would take about half an hour to get to the Bank—I swear that it was Thursday, October 10th.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of the temptation. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour. There were other indictments against him.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, January 16th, 1890.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MOORE Prosecuted.
CHARLES HENRY RICHARDS . I am an engineer, living at Rotherhithe—on 5th January I was outside the Cannon public-house, in Cannon Street—I had a gold watch and gold chain attached to it—the prisoner came in front of me, and took hold of me by the coat and wrenched the chain from my watch—the top button of my coat was buttoned; I was wearing an overcoat; the prisoner may have seen my chain—after taking my chain he ran across the road—I ran after him, and struck him with my umbrella; I caught him, and took this part of the chain, which was broken, from his hand; I have not seen the other part since; it broke short off by my watch—I gave him in charge—the value of my chain was about £4; it cost £5 5s.—it was attached to a gold watch.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. We were in the middle of the road when the constable came up—I was not holding you; I saw you could not get away—it was not two minutes before the constable came up, he came up almost immediately after I took the chain from your hand.
JOHN RUSSELL . I am cellarman at the Cannon public house, Cannon Street—I was standing outside that public-house on 5th January, about nine p.m.—I noticed Mr. Richards passing me, and the prisoner coming in an opposite direction—the prisoner ran across from Cannon Street Station, and took hold of the prosecutor's coat and twisted it, and took the chain from his waistcoat and ran away—the prosecutor ran after him and caught him.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor caught you outside Hudson's, only across the road—you gave the chain back to him—I saw you before that happened, standing at the side of the station.
GEORGE HOLDER (City Policeman 649). About 9 o'clock on 5th January I went up to a small crowd in Cannon Street and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner in the middle of the road—no one was holding the prisoner—some one said "There is a watch-chain stolen, there is the man—I went to the prisoner—the prosecutor said, "He has stolen my chain, and I have taken it from his hand"—the prosecutor said he would charge him—I told the prisoner the charge, he made no answer, but turned and walked with me to the station, where with difficulty we obtained his name—he gave no address—he made no answer to the charge.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate, "I am insane, I cannot help it; voices have tempted me."
The prisoner, in his defence, said he did not know if he did it or not, that he was not in his right state of mind.
Dr. Gilbert said he had seen the prisoner, and had known him for a long time, and did not think he was insane.
GUILTY.** Fourteen previous convictions were proved against him. Judgment respited.
149. HENRY HENCKEROTH (33) , Indecently assaulting Henrietta Henckeroth, aged eleven years. Other Counts, for an indecent assault on Henry Henckeroth, aged ten years, and for gross indecency with the same person.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .—Eight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, January 17th, 1890.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
151. HENRY GEORGE WEIR (35) , Unlawfully and wickedly soliciting certain persons unknown to murder George Livesey. Other Counts, for encouraging, endeavouring to persuade, and proposing to certain persons to murder.
MR. POLAND, Q. C., with MESSRS. FORREST FULTON and PARTRIDGE, Prosecuted; MR. GRAIN Defended.
GEORGE LAMBERT (Policeman A 558). On Sunday, 22nd December, in the course of my duty, I attended, in plain clothes, a meeting of gas stokers on strike, in Hyde Park—it was a meeting organised in the usual way, with a number of processions, banners, and bands—they arrived in Hyde Park about twelve o'clock—there were six different platforms, at five of which speeches were made—I directed my attention to platform No. 4, at which a man named McCarthy was chairman—I saw the prisoner with others on the platform—there was an opening speech by the chairman, and then a resolution was moved; I took it down in shorthand, which I transcribed—this is it, "That this meeting condemns the endeavours of the South Metropolitan Gas Company," etc.—that was. seconded by the prisoner in a discursive speech—I took down a part of it in shorthand—the speech lasted about a quarter of an hour—this is what he said. (The witness read his shorthand note, in which the following passage occurred)—"Mr. Livesey has got £40,000; remember that he got it out of the working men; I say it is a standing disgrace that he should be allowed to draw it out of you the sooner he is got rid of the better. I say that he has no right to live, and a man would be a hero that went to-night and murdered him"—(Cheers, and cries of "No")—after that McCarthy said something—I made a report to my superiors of what had occurred—on 27th December I was present with Inspector Greet when he arrested the prisoner on a warrant—he made a statement to the inspector, which he took down.
Cross-examined. I am not a skilled shorthand writer; I could not take Mr. Poland's speech—the prisoner is not a particularly quick speaker; I do not pretend to take a verbatim report; I can take sentences; I would not swear I may not have left out something—at one time from 1,500 to 1,600 persons were standing around No. 4 Platform; I can't say how many there were at the time the prisoner spoke; I was busy—the platforms were on vans, I stood at the tail of the van writing in this book—I went through my notes afterwards, and may have corrected one or two errors.
ROBERT GEORGE EMERY . I am a reporter on the staff of the Morning Post— I attended this meeting in Hyde Park on 22nd December—my attention was drawn to No. 4 platform; among others I heard the prisoner speak—I took down three sentences of his speech verbatim—I
have my notebook with me—the first sentence was this, "I say a man like Livesey has no right to live, and ought to be got rid of"—the next sentence I took was, "A man like Livesey has no moral right to live in this country, and the man would be a hero who went to-night and murdered him, and one we ought to worship"—several people cheered, but the cheering was not general—the next sentence I took was, "There is not much of me, but what there is I am ready to sacrifice myself for in the cause of my fellows"—I am quite sure those were the exact words—the speech lasted about a quarter of an hour—at the close of his speech he got down from the van—I went up to him and said, "Will you tell me your name, please"—he said, "Weir"—I did not pay particular attention to what he was saying till he said this.
Cross-examined. I was there for the purpose of attending all the platforms at which speeches were made—they were all speaking at once, but it was such a small meeting you could hear all the orators if you stood in the middle—it was not my intention to take the speeches, only anything that struck my attention—I went to No. 4 platform because I heard Tillett speaking—I did not take the whole of prisoners speech—I listened for ten minutes, but only took these sentences—I took them because they struck me as being worth giving in the newspaper—I did not hear him say anything about Brazil—I can't swear he did not—I listened to the greater portion of his speech—I never heard Brazil mentioned—he said that such tyranny would not be tolerated in any other country—I was subpœnaed by the Treasury to give evidence at Bow Street—I reported those paragraphs' in the Morning Post—I don't think there was any article on it, or any notice—several speakers referred to Mr. Livesey and £40,000—I can't say whether this man did particularly.
THOMAS GREET (Police Inspector A). On 27th December I received a warrant against Weir from Bow Street Police-court for threatening—I went to the office of the London Society of Compositors, Racquet Court, Fleet Street, where I saw the prisoner—I said, "I am an inspector of police; I believe your name is Weir, and that you delivered a speech in Hyde Park on Sunday, 22nd"—he said, "I did speak in Hyde Park"—I said, "I hold a warrant for your arrest"—I read it to him—he said, "That is not true, I was speaking of the £40,000 that had been accumulated by the men that he was fighting them with to-day; I said that the Emperor of Brazil had been turned out for no reason whatever compared to what Mr. Livesey had done, and that if he had been living in Brazil he would not have been allowed to live twenty-four hours; I was not referring to this country at all, and had no intention to refer to this country; I had no intention of being there; I was with a friend at Hammersmith, and was invited by some person in the Park to second the resolution; I have spoken at heaps of meetings; I should not be so foolish as to ask for a man to be murdered"—I wrote that down at the time, in his presence, with the exception of the words, "It is not true"—I conveyed him to the station, where he was charged—he said, "It is not true," and asked for bail—I searched him, and found a card of membership of the London Society of Compositors, No. 342, and a copy of the resolution.
notice and left the company's service—I was subpœnaed to attend at Bow Street—I believe I am the person referred to as George Livesey—the £40,000 is the assurance fund which we are allowed to accumulate by Act of Parliament from the consumers, not from the working men.
Cross-examined. I took no action in this matter, which was initiated by the Treasury.
By the COURT. I have suffered no inconvenience from the speech, and I was under no fear whatever.
MR. GRAIN stated that he could not deny the prisoner had spoken most intemperately, and he was willing to leave the matter in the hands of the COURT. The prisoner said that he had regretted his speech ever since he made it.
GUILTY . To enter into his own recognisances to appear for judgment if called upon.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, January 17th, 1890. Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
153. JOHN ROBERT WILLIAMS , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences, with intent to defraud, from Samuel Weiner, a sapphire and diamond bracelet and other articles. Other Counts, charging, that being entrusted as agent for the sale of jewellery, he unlawfully pawned the same for his own use.
MR. GILL, on behalf of the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, January 18th, 1890.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended Ballard) MR. HUTTON Defended Brockett and Gunner.
GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
There was another indictment for the manslaughter of the same person, upon which no evidence was offered.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended.
CATHERINE HARVEY . I live at 70, Vincent Street, Canning Town—on January 6th, at 8 p.m., I was at the Liliput Arms—the prisoner came in with her mother and two or three other women—I said, "Good evening," as I had known her four years—she kept looking towards me, and laughed as she usually did—she had a child which she danced before me—I said, "It is a nice little child, but rather delicate"—I then went on conversing with Mrs. Richards, and the prisoner came towards me and made a blow on my face, and blood flowed—there were two cuts, one on my forehead and one on my nose, but I only recollect one blow—I became insensible, and was taken to the hospital—I was sober—I did not strike the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I had had a share of two half quarterns of rum—I did not say to the prisoner, "You are a b—y stinking liar"—we did not both take off our bonnets and start to fight; the prisoner never wears a bonnet or shawl—I do not wear a bonnet, and I did not take off my shawl—all this occurred in hardly two minutes—I have had fifteen months for wounding, but I was innocent—I have been fined for being drunk—I have been an unfortunate girl.
JOHN RUSSELL . I am barman at the Liliput Arms—on 6th January I was serving at the bar—the prisoner had a baby on the counter, and called for a cake for it, and said to the prosecutrix, "This is the only one I have '—the prosecutrix said, "You are a b—y stinking liar"—they both took their shawls off, and started to fight—the fighting and conversation did not last three minutes, and when they both got up from the ground the prosecutrix was bleeding from her face, and had five or six wounds on her arms—I stopped the bleeding, because we could not get a doctor, and sent her to the hospital.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was peaceful and quiet enough—the scrimmage did not last three minutes—there was a glass on the ground—I saw nothing in the prisoner's hands.
FRANK CORNERS . I am house surgeon of Poplar Hospital—on 6th January, at half-past eight, the prosecutrix was brought in with four incised wounds: one on her left forearm, one on the upper arm, two on her forehead, and two on her face, by the side of her nose—the one on her forehead was deep, and went all across; and the one on her forearm was down to the muscle—all the others were skin wounds—we had no bed, and I sent her to the London Hospital—the wounds were inflicted with some sharp-edged instrument—a piece of glass would not account for them—they must have been done with something which was used as a weapon—it may have been a knife, or any sharp instrument—there were no pieces of glass in the wounds, and no scratches.
Cross-examined. I should not like to swear it was not done with glass—I do not know that glass was found on the floor.
WILLIAM WAITE (Police Inspector). On 6th January, about 10 p.m., I went to the Liliput Arms, and found some broken glass, with blood on it, and this tumbler (produced)—I told the prisoner she would be charged with unlawfully wounding the prosecutrix—she said, "All right, old man, let me get up and dress"—I took her to the station—she made no reply to the charge—nothing was found on her.
Cross-examined, She was sober—the glass appeared to have been trampled on on the floor—she was not cut.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, under great provocation. To enter into recognisances to keep the peace for twelve months, and come up for judgment if called upon.
MR. ROGERS Prosecuted.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Four Months' Hard Labour each.
Before Mr. Recorder.
158. MICHAEL MURPHY (26) PLEADED GUILTY to housebreaking and larceny, after a conviction of felony at Newington on June 1st, 1885.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour after the expiration of his former sentence. And
159. JAMES EDWARD SUTHERLAND (45) , To unlawfully converting to his own use a cheque for £1,202 11s. 3d., which had been entrusted to him. He received an excellent character.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] He was also indicted for stealing the said cheque, upon which no evidence was offered.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
GEORGE TRICKETT . I am a labourer, and live at 13, Vauxhall-Walk—I work at Messrs. Maudslays, engineers, in Westminster Bridge Road—on Sunday night, 22nd December, I was in the Lord Clive public-house, in Vauxhall Walk, with Frank Chambers, my landlord, and others—we went in at half-past ten and came out at ten minutes to eleven, just before closing—we walked across the road; Chambers was about three-quarters of a yard in front, when bang went a pistol off—he said, "George, I am shot!"—I only heard one report—I turned round to my right, and saw the prisoner trying to make his escape—he had not gone a yard before I had him on his back—I caught him by the throat and knocked him down, and I fell too—I saw the pistol in his hand—some persons came up, and the pistol was taken from him; then a constable came up—I went with Chambers to the hospital with the police—the prisoner was a stranger to me; I was never in his company.
Cross-examined. No one was near me but the prisoner and Chambers when I heard the explosion—the prisoner came running up the road, and let go the pistol—he was not pursued by a mob of twenty men—I afterwards saw some men following him—a man called Jack was with us; he
"belongs to the factory—I held the prisoner down—the pistol did not go off as he was in the act of falling, but before—there was no strike at Maudslays, the strike was at the South Metropolitan Gas Works; that had nothing to do with me—Chambers was on strike—there were ten or twelve people in the Lord Give, in the same department as we were—I don't know that the secretary of the Gas Union was there; everything was peaceable and quiet—I did not listen to what they were talking about—I heard no dispute or threats—when the prisoner was taken up off me I saw that his mouth was bleeding and his face cut open—I did not hear him say that the pistol had gone off by accident—I heard no shouts before the explosion—I was not drunk.
GEORGE BARROW . I live at 20, Italian Walk, Vauxhall, and am a labourer, working in the Phoenix Gas Works—on 22nd December I was in the Lord Give—the prisoner came in about a quarter to ten—he was speak-to Mr. Ryder—I heard him promise to give all the information to Ryder he possibly could, as to how the men were going on inside the works—Chambers was there; he took no part in the conversation, he went out with Trickett when closing time was called—before they got out I saw the prisoner deliberately put his hand in his right-hand coat-pocket, and pull something out, and I said, "Stand on one side, men, he has pulled out either a knife or a pistol from his pocket"—I immediately made off outside the house, and pursued him, and said to a constable outside, "Stop that man! he has got a revolver in his possession," and I and the constable made off over the road after him, and just as I got up the pistol went off—I only heard one shot—the prisoner was just outside the oilshop when he delivered the shot, there was nobody near him—I saw him shoot at Chambers, who was on the pavement, four or five yards from him—then ten or a dozen people made for him, and took the revolver from him—he was standing in the gutter when he fired, and Chambers fell into my arms.
Cross-examined. There were a lot of Union men in the public-house—Ryder, the assistant-secretary, was there—I was on strike—I did not know the prisoner at all—I heard Ryder ask him whether there had been an accident inside, and whether he would give him information about the Gas Works, and he said he would every night throughout the week—he was not moving towards the door at the time—I did not hear a man say, "He is one of the bonus b—s"—it was when the prisoner was about a yard from the door that I saw him take something from his pocket—he ran out immediately with the revolver in his hand; I thought it was my place to stop him, and take it from him, if possible—about a dozen people followed him—he was not surrounded by anybody when he got outside—I have given an account of this before—I have said, "He was surrounded by three or four persons about a dozen yards from the public-house"—also, "At the time of the explosion the prisoner was on the ground, on his knees, half-way up"—that is right—he was running to get away, the others ran after him, he ran straight across the road—I did not not see him struck—I did not see his face cut open and his mouth bleeding.
Re-examined. I am quite certain no blow was struck till after he had fired—he was knocked down after the shot was delivered—I don't know whether he was standing up or lying down—I did not see him fire, I saw the reflection of the shot—he was on his feet when he
fired; he was betwixt and between like, neither up nor down—there were three or four people round him; they were not between me and him, they were in the road, and I and Chambers were on the pavement, and the prisoner turned round deliberately and shot—I had not a good view of him, because he was surrounded by three or four people—it was all done in a moment, we had hardly time to see what was going on.
GEORGE CLARK . I am a tailor, and live at 59, Beak Street, Regent Street—on the Sunday night before Christmas I was in the Lord Clive, and saw the prisoner there in company with others—I heard him say he would give information—when we were leaving I got towards the door; the prisoner was behind me—I turned round, and he faced me—Barrow called out that he had got something in his pocket, and I saw the revolver in his right hand—he rushed out past me and a constable at the door, and ran about nine yards across the road—several ran after him, and about a yard before they got to him he turned round, with the revolver in his right hand, and shot one chamber out of the revolver—there was no one within a yard of him when he fired—he shot Chambers in the side—he was about seven yards from him, and then they were both on the ground—I did not know any of them.
Cross-examined. I saw several gas stokers speaking to the prisoner in the house, and asking him questions, whether he would give information as to what was going on inside, and he said he would, and meet any of them any night next week—everything was quiet and friendly—I was there three-quarters of an hour—I did not hear him laugh—he said he would give them a lot of information—he was not making towards the door at the time, not till "Time" was called—I did not get between him and the door purposely; I had my elbow up because there was a rush coming out, and I was looking for a friend—the prisoner was not struck—I could not say what made him rush from the house; there was no cause for it; there was nothing to be afraid of—he went out as fast as he could—he was followed, because he had been seen to take something from his pocket—we were not all rushing after him; I was about seven yards away from him when he fired—he fired before any one was on him—what I have said before was, "As they were going after him the revolver went off"—that is true—he turned round—I did not say, "I can't say what position he was in when it went off"—I saw him down just afterwards.
HENRY BRYANT . I live at 46, Riverhall Street, South Lambeth—I was a labourer at the Gas Works, but was on strike—I was at the Lord Clive on this Sunday night—when the prisoner came in he volunteered a statement to the effect that all the men in the Vauxhall factory were perfectly lousy—he stayed there some time; I got away from him, I would have no truck with him, he was a blackleg—he started giving a statement, which I took down on a piece of paper at the time—I did not see anything happen till a few minutes before eleven—I then went outside, and as I was coming back I saw three or four persons running after the prisoner across the road by the oilshop, and I immediately saw the flash of a revolver, and I heard a man say, "I have got it"—the prisoner was immediately knocked down, the policemen came, and they took the revolver from him after a desperate struggle.
Cross-examined. I did not know who he was at first; I heard afterwards
that he looked after the sleeping department where the men were lousy—I did not hear Ryder ask him questions—a man asked me to drink, and I said if I could not have any but blacklegs' beer, I would not have any.
FRANCIS CHAMBERS . I live at 13, Vauxhall Walk—I am a labourer, out of employment—I came out on strike from the Gas "Works—I went into the Lord Clive with Trickett, about 10.30—the prisoner was there; he was a stranger to me—I did not speak to him—I came out just before closing-time, and got across by the oilshop—I heard a report, and felt a wound—I cried out that I was shot—I had two wounds, one in the back and one under the left arm—I was taken to St. Thomas's Hospital—I am still suffering from the wound in my left arm—I have attended at the hospital since.
Cross-examined. I was in the bar with twelve or thirteen others—I did not hear any of the conversation with the prisoner—I came out before Trickett—I had just got to the other side of the road when this happened—I did not hear the prisoner running, nor the others—I heard nothing till I was shot—I was perfectly sober.
CHARLES TURNER (Policeman L 283). At eleven on the night of 22nd December I was outside the Lord Clive—I saw the prisoner running in the middle of the road, pursued by about eight or twelve men—I was informed by Clark that he had a revolver—I started in pursuit—he turned round to his left, and I saw a flash over his left shoulder, and a little smoke, and he immediately fell to the ground—I saw a revolver in his right hand—I seized his hand while Bryant took it from him, and I took him into custody.
Cross-examined, The crowd were almost on him when I saw the flash—whether he was tripped up or not I cannot tell—when I picked him up he was almost insensible—there was a good deal of blood on his face—he had a graze above the left eye, his lip was cut inside, and he was bruised under the right eye—the blood came mostly from the lip and the graze—I saw him fall—I was not the first that got up to him—there were several in front of me—there was no one in front of him.
THOMAS PATCHETT (Police Inspector L). I produce the six-chambered revolver—four chambers were loaded, and two discharged—the prisoner was charged with feloniously shooting—he was sober—he said he had been struck in the mouth when leaving the public-house, and that the mob put upon him—the two shots to all appearance had been recently discharged; they were greasy, slimy with gunpowder—I have all the cartridges here—it is impossible to fire the revolver twice without re-cocking the trigger; the spring is broken—two shots could not be fired simultaneously.
Cross-examined. The prisoner told me that he had been working that night till six o'clock as an attendant at the South Metropolitan Gas Works, in the sleeping department—he told me he had been threatened in the public-house, and when he was leaving he was struck in the mouth, causing it to bleed—when the charge was read over he said, "No, I had no intention of shooting anyone"—I have made inquiries about him; I find he has borne an exemplary character; he has been twenty-one years in the Marine Infantry, and discharged with a high character and a pension for long service, with good conduct medals, the Egyptian and the Star, having been under fire.
By the COURT. I have had experience in firearms—in my opinion both these chambers had been discharged within an hour.
Cross-examined. Our house is a good deal used by these men—I saw nothing to cause the man to rush out—he may have been struck without my seeing it.
HENRY ARTHUR HOWE. —I am house surgeon at St. Thomas's—the prosecutor was brought in at half-past eleven on the evening in question—he was then conscious—I examined him; I found two bullet wounds, one in the side, the other in the back at the left side, about six inches apart—I came to the conclusion that it was one wound, caused by one bullet; one wound of entrance at the side, and the other of exit at the back.
Cross-examined. When I gave evidence at the Police-court he had completely recovered, as far as I could see—I saw him and Trickett at the hospital—they both appeared to have been drinking considerably; the prosecutor not so much as the other.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
WILLIAM DENYER . I am a labourer, and live at Richmond—on Friday afternoon, 27th December, I was with George Allen in the Marlborough public-house, about half-past eight—the prisoner was there—he was having an argument with another man about India,—Allen said, "I have been in India as long as you have"—the prisoner said, "I don't want to speak to you, kid"—Allen said, "Come outside, you dirty dog, I will make a kid of you"—they went outside—Allen took his coat off—I picked it up and said, "Don't be a fool," and gave it him—he threw it at the prisoner, and struck him in the face—the prisoner did nothing to deceased; he walked away—I and Allen followed him; we were going home—Allen kept saying to the prisoner, "Go home, and pay your poor old mother the £5 you robbed her of"—Allen had had a drop to drink—Beach said, "Come across the road; you have been upsetting me, and I will give you one"—Allen crossed the road, and again began to take off his coat—while he was doing so Beach struck him in the lip with his fist—I said, "Don't be a coward! let the man take his coat off"—he did take it off, and Allen took his hat off—they cuddled together and fell. Allen under, Beach on the top—Allen's head came against the rough stone wall at the side of the church; he lay there; Beach got up and stood beside him—at that time Inspector Walsh and a sergeant came up—the sergeant sat Allen up, and rubbed his head and ear—I took hold of him, and tried to get him along home, leaving Beach behind—on the way Allen complained about his leg being a bit stiff—I found I could not assist him alone; he was too heavy—Beach came up—I asked him to assist the man, and he did so, and we took him to his mother's house—Beach seemed to have had a little drink.
the worse for drink—on the 28th, in consequence of what I heard from the surgeon, I took Beach into custody—I told him Allen was dead, and he would be charged with causing his death—he said, "Oh, is that all?' he commenced rowing with me at the Marlborough, and wanted me to fight him"—he gave his correct name and address.
EDWARD BRETON HILL . I am resident medical officer at Richmond Hospital—Allen was brought there on Saturday, 28th, in an unconscious state; he appeared to be suffering from injury to the brain; he died at half-past eight in the evening—there was a lacerated wound at the right side of the scalp, about an inch long, also a slight wound on the lip—I made a post-mortem examination with Dr. Gardner—under the skull, corresponding to the wound, I found a blood clot and a rupture of a vessel on the brain, causing death—such a fall as described would cause the injury.
Prisoner. I am very sorry; I was under great provocation.
GUILTY.— Three Weeks' Imprisonment.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted.
ALFRED CAMPBELL . I am a lighterman, living at 3, Paradise Street Lambeth—I have nothing to do with the contention between the Gas Company and their employed—about five minutes past 2 p.m., on Friday, 3rd January, I was on Bankside, Southwark, and I saw the prisoner (whom I had never seen before) with this revolver in his hand, pointing it down Isaac's Yard—I told him to put the revolver down, and started going towards him to knock it out of his hand; he turned round and fired it at me—I was hit in my waistcoat, and through two parts of my trousers—I was not wounded, only bruised between the ribs; no surgeon saw it—I followed the prisoner on to Southwark Bridge—Cross followed him as well, and knocked the revolver out of his hand—the prisoner then pulled a knife out, the blade was open—Cross and I left go of him then, and he went over the bridge towards the City, with the knife in his hand—he was given in charge of two City policemen—no crowd was about him when he first fired—a crowd came up—I did not touch his watch, or make any attempt to get it.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I don't know which way you came from—when I saw you, you were looking down the yard with the revolver in your hand—no men at all were then round you—I don't think I have given a different statement to that which I gave the Magistrate—nothing caused a disturbance between you and me; I had never seen you before—you deliberately shot me, without my interfering with you—after shooting, you held the revolver in your hand, and walked away;. you made no attempt to shoot again—I daresay you walked four steps backwards, and then turned and walked on—after you fired you told the men to stand back—I had hold of you when you pulled the knife out, and I let you go—Cross let go of you before you took the knife out—no one else had hold of you; there were persons at your side—I held you to take the revolver away.
Mr. POYNTER, after a suggestion from Mr. JUSTICE HAWKINS, desired to
take a verdict of Not Guilty upon this indictment, as there was no evidence of intent to murder or to do grievous bodily harm.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted.
The evidence given by Alfred Campbell in the last case was read to him by the shorthand writer. He assented to it.
JOHN CROSS . I am a labourer, of 21, Martin Street, Friar Street, Lambeth—on 3rd January, shortly after two, I saw the prisoner come to Isaac's Yard with a revolver in his hand; he apparently wanted to row with someone—he said he was an American, he intended shooting someone—I asked him to go away from the yard, as I was at work—he only kept shouting and saying he was an American, and meant shooting someone—I had never seen him before—he said if I went into the road he would shoot me—Campbell came up and said, "Let us take it away, or knock it out of his hand," and no sooner had he said so than the pistol was levelled, and fired deliberately at him—then he walked backwards with the pistol in his hand, by our office on to Bankside—he was presenting the pistol at the first man that followed; no one was there—he said he would shoot the first man that attempted to follow—Campbell fell back—I hurried on, and kept within a certain distance—with the assistance of Campbell I took the pistol from him, after a struggle, on the middle of Southwark Bridge—as soon as the revolver was taken from him he had an open knife in his hand—he walked into the hands of two constables.
Cross-examined. You did not have a chance to shoot me or Campbell when we took the pistol from you; only me and Campbell were there at the time—I did not have hold of you after we took the pistol, I was frightened of the knife—your watch and purse were in your hand when the constable took you—just before the constable came you were halloaing and hooting; nobody was close to you except Campbell and I; there were plenty behind you—I let you go when I got the revolver, but I wanted to keep close to you to see you safe in the hands of the police—when you took the knife out you said, "Stand back!" and I stood back—I went back to where I work, and where I have a character of eight years.
STEPHEN STARKIE (City Policeman 618). About five minutes past two on the 3rd, Pengelly spoke to me, and I saw the prisoner with a good many people behind him, coming over Southwark Bridge—I went up to the prisoner, who had a clasp knife in his left hand; I laid hold of his wrist, and he handed the knife to me—I took him to the station with Bridge's assistance—in his right hand he had his purse and watch and chain, his coat was over his arm—he was in a very excited state, quite sober—he seemed afraid that someone would molest him—he told the mob to stand back—when Campbell made a charge at the station-house, against the prisoner, the prisoner said he intended to put it through his brains; he intended to settle him, but he was very excited when he said that—Cross handed me this revolver, it is six-chambered; one had been discharged and five were loaded—the prisoner showed me how to unload it—I found on him sixteen bullets, a clasp knife, and a watch and chain—he was very quiet with the police, he offered no resistance whatever.
Cross-examined, You were coming over the bridge with the knife in your hand, and there might have been fifty people behind you—you shut up the knife and gave it to me, and charged me to keep the mob off you—fifty people were following you—you were sober, but very excited.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said he arrived in England about a month ago; that a few days after his arrival he was robbed in his street of his watch, chain, and money; that he was employed at the Gas Works for two days, but had to leave, as he could not do the work; that he received money from America, and was going back there; that a crowd came up to him and one of them, after asking if he had worked in the gas factory, knocked him down, that he retaliated, and was knocked down and kicked, being told it was for working in the gas factory; that they tried to take his watch and chain, and that to protect himself and his property, but with no intention to shoot anyone, he took out his revolver.
GUILTY . The JURY added that they thought he had received great provocation.— Discharged on recognisances.
MR. GILL having opened the case, and the JURY having stated that in their opinion there was no case against the prisoner, MR. GILL offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. WILMOT Prosecuted.
ELIZABETH CROSS . I am barmaid at the Harrow public-house, Borough Market—on Friday evening, 13th December, Head called for half a pint of ale, and tendered this sixpence—I gave her 4 1/2 d. change—while she was drinking the ale Ayling came in and spoke to her—she called for a pint of fourpenny ale, and gave me this other sixpence—I put the two sixpences in the till, where there was no more money—the two continued drinking together—shortly after a milkman, Charles Rolls, came in for payment of his milk bill, 2s. 8d., and I gave him these two sixpences and other moneys—he went away, and shortly afterwards returned, and made a statement to me with regard to one of the sixpences—almost immediately afterwards the milkman's daughter came back with the other sixpence, and made a statement about it—both sixpences were broken, and bad—I spoke to my mistress,. Mrs. Taylor—after the milkman had come back, Head called for another pot of ale, and gave me a third sixpence—I noticed it was bad, and gave it to my mistress, who spoke to Head about it—a constable was sent for—when the prisoners were brought back, and they were charged with giving bad money by my mistress, Head said, "The money is not bad," and she picked up a pot and threw at Mrs. Taylor's head—it missed her—Ayling
said he had nothing to do with it whatever—I don't think the two prisoners were strangers when they came in—he spoke in very friendly terms to her—they drank out of the same pot—I did not see what she did with the change I gave her.
Cross-examined by Ayling I was sitting down in front of the compartment you came into—I did not see you light your pipe—I did not ask you if you wanted anything—you did not say to Head, "I cannot drink; I have only one penny"—I did not see you put one penny down—I should say Head was in the public-house five minutes, perhaps not so long before you came in—when she was accused you said, "I know nothing about it; all the working chaps round here know me; I only came in to have half a pint of beer"—Mrs. Taylor said, "I have a good mind to lock you up, if you don't give me good money for the bad"
Cross-examined by Head. I don't know what you did with the change—I gave you 8 1/2 d. altogether.
ROSINA TAYLOR . I am landlady of the Harrow public-house, Borough Market—on Friday evening, 13th December, Miss Cross showed me two broken sixpences, and made a statement to me—I saw the two prisoners in the bar—shortly afterwards a third sixpence was shown to me and I told the prisoners I knew the money had come from them, because there was no one else in the house who was likely to pass bad money—Head said she had not passed it—Ayling said he had nothing to do with it; he picked the woman up in the street; he had come in with her, and she had asked him to have a drink—a customer and my barman went for the police, and while they were gone the prisoners went out together—nothing had been said about the police in their hearing—shortly afterwards the police" brought the prisoners back, who were charged with uttering these sixpences—Head picked up a pewter pot from the counter and flung it at me; it smeared the side of my head—she went to pick up some glasses, but a party in the bar stopped her—Ayling said he would make it good, and he would give me either sixpence or seven pence back of the change which we had given to her.
Cross-examined by Ayling. You said you were a perfect stranger to her, and that all the working men round knew you; I asked scores of them; they did not know you-you said, "I have always lived round here; I have nothing to do with the female. I came in the public-house; she was in the public-house drinking"—you did not, to my knowledge, say she was a poor unfortunate girl, that she was drunk and very likely somebody had given her these sixpences; you might have said it.
By the JURY. I did not see them come in; it was about half-past eight or nine p.m.
THOMAS PIKE . I am a potman—I was at the Harrow public-house on this evening—Head came in, called for drink, and tendered a sixpence—afterwards she called for more ale, and tendered another sixpence—the sixpences were put in the till, and afterwards paid to the milkman who brought them back to Mrs. Taylor—at that time I saw Head ask for a third drink, and tender a third sixpence—the barmaid or Mrs. Taylor complained they were all bad, and the police were sent for—as soon as the third sixpence was given I went into the next compartment, and put my back against the door to prevent them going out, and I was told to let them go, and they went out together—shortly afterwards a constable
brought them back; I had followed them and told a policeman—I did not hear what he said to the constable—when he was brought back to the public-house he said he did not know anything about it—I had seen him come in—I should think he came in first, and the woman about a minute afterwards—he drank out of her pewter.
Cross-examined by Ayling. I was in the next compartment when you came in—I did not see you with a pipe—I heard you say in the public-house, before I let you go, that the woman was a stranger to you.
CHARLES ROLLS . I am a milkman, in Mr. Biddell's employment—on this evening I went to the Harrow public-house, and Miss Cross paid me for a milk bill, two sixpences and 1s. 8d—I went straight back, and gave the money to my master, who broke a sixpence in two with his teeth, said something with regard to it, and sent me back to the public-house with the broken pieces—I showed them to Miss Cross.
EDMUND JOHN BIDDELL . I am a milkman, of 1, Park Street, Borough Market—on 13th December Rolls brought me some money, which included two sixpences, in payment of a milk bill—I examined one sixpence and found it was bad; I broke it in half, and sent it back to the Harrow—afterwards I examined the other sixpence, and found it was bad, and sent it back by my daughter—these are the two sixpences.
JOHN STAMP (Policeman M 154). On this evening I had information given to me—I saw the two prisoners in Bed Cross Street, arm-in-arm—I stopped them, and said I should take them back to the Harrow—before I told them what it was for, Head said, "Some man put the money in my breast"—Ayling said to her, "You have got me into this b——y mess "I took them to the Harrow—when they were told the charge, Head picked up a pewter pot, and threw it at the landlady—she was not drunk—the landlady gave me these three sixpences—at the station they made no answer to the charge—Ayling gave the address of Albert Chambers—I went there, and afterwards told him he was not known there—Head pretended to be drunk; she was all right till I took her in custody, and then she began to roll about—I searched Ayling; I found nothing on him.
THOMAS DINALL (Policeman M 270). I was called to the Harrow, and from information received I went into Bed Cross Street, where I saw the two prisoners in the custody of Stamp—he took one and I the other to the public-house, where they were charged—I saw the landlady give Stamp the three sixpences—I did not hear the prisoners make any reply to the charge—Head was not drunk.
MARGARET BEST . I am a female searcher at Southwark Police-court—I searched Head—I found sixteen sixpences in her bosom, next her skin—she said somebody had put them in her breast, and she also said, "You get your living by searching, I by thieving, and the best I can"—she had been drinking, but she seemed to know what she was about—I said, "I know you by searching you previously"—she said she was a prostitute—I found no good money on her.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—I have examined all these sixpences; they are all counterfeit—the broken one and these other two are from the same mould—they are from a different mould to the other sixteen, which are unfinished Jubilee sixpences.
Head, in her statement before the Magistrate and in her defence, said a man
had given her the three sixpences, and had put the others in her bosom, and that she did not know they were bad, and that she was drunk at the time.
Ayling said he did not know the woman; that he went into the public-house, and she invited him to drink with her, and afterwards asked him to go home with her, and he argued that if he had known she had the coins on her he had plenty of time to get rid of them or to have left her.
AYLING— NOT GUILTY .
HEAD— GUILTY — Two Days' Imprisonment.
There was another indictment against Ayling, for feloniously uttering counterfeit money.
MR. WILMOT offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
JAMES HENRY CRABB . I am landlord of the Swan beer-house, Black-friars—between six and seven p.m., on 29th November, the prisoner came in for spirits; I don't sell them, and he had port wine hot, price twopence—he gave me a half-crown in payment—I tried it in my tester in his presence, and bent it easily, and found it was bad—I showed it to him, and asked him it he had any more of them—he said he had just come from the Cut, and he had changed a half-sovereign there, and this was what was given him in change—I handed the coin back to him—he pulled out a five-shilling piece and a half-crown to represent the ten shillings change—those coins were good—I gave him change—he waited in the bar some time and drank his wine, and as I had had several bad coins I took observation of him—he looked respectable, and I did not like to accuse him—my place was fully lighted up with gas—he sat in front of me, and I observed him—when he went out I followed him—he looked about for a minute or two, and then moved to a doorway, and then to another doorway, and I lost sight of him—I afterwards spoke to Sergeant Markham, and gave him a description of the man—on 11th December I was called to the Kennington Road Police-station, where I saw the prisoner with seven or eight others; I picked him out—he was then disguised in an old brown coat and slouched hat—after I had identified him I saw him in the same dress as he had when he came into my bar; I should think he has on the same clothes now—I am positive he is the same man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The policeman did not tell me what coloured hat you had on when I came to identify you; your hat was pulled over your eyes—when I looked under it I could see your face—Edge said he knew you by your hand, but he could not recognise your face till you were dressed in your own clothes—if I had come across a policeman when I followed you outside I should have given you in charge—one could not be mistaken about you.
JAMES GEORGE EDGE . I am a tobacconist, of 100, Waterloo Road—I know the prisoner by sight—at half-past ten on the night of 3rd December he came in for half an ounce of shag, price twopence, and gave me a half-crown—I put two shillings and fourpence change on the counter—as I did so he said, "What is about the time?"—I looked up and said, "Half-past ten"—as I was doing that he picked up the coins, hurried to the door, and ran from it—hearing his feet scuffling on the doorstep, I looked up, and saw him run away—I looked at the half-crown,
and saw it was bad—I ran to the corner of the street to try and catch him, but I could not—at ten minutes to eleven I saw a constable, and stated the case to him, and gave him the half-crown—I marked it on the Queen's neck with a "J. E."—this is the coin—I saw nothing more of the prisoner till 10th or 11th December, when I was sent for to Kennington Lane Station—I was there before Crabb—I went into a room where there were eight or nine men—the prisoner had changed clothes with someone, and had his hat very much over his eyes, and a large brown overcoat on; and on my first going in I did not recognise him—directly the hat was removed I knew him; he was still wearing the overcoat—when he took the overcoat and hat off he put on the same clothes that he had when he came into the shop, except the handkerchief and collar—I gave a full description of his clothes and personal appearance to the constable within half an hour of his leaving the shop—I noticed, as he picked up the change, the back of his hand seemed very dark—I had full gaslight in my shop—at the Police-station I wanted the prisoner to show me the back of his hand, and he would not; he showed me the front.
Cross-examined. When you took your hat off, after Crabb had identified you, I recognised you—Crabb was in the room then—the other men were all in a line—I knew you directly you took your hat off, before you took off your overcoat—the police did not tell me what you were like, or that you were dark; I told them—when I gave you change the bad coin was on the counter—you were in the shop just long enough for me to weigh the tobacco and give it to you—it was your hurrying that made me suspicious.
JOHN GROGAN (Police Sergeant L). On 29th November I received information and a description from Crabb—on 11th December I went to the Blacksmith Arms, and found the prisoner at the bar—I said, "I will take you into custody on suspicion of uttering two counterfeit half-crowns within this last fortnight; one was at a cigar shop in the Waterloo Road, and one was at the Swan beershop in the Blackfriars Road"—he said, "You are getting this up for me; I have uttered no half-crowns; you know I do not touch it"—I said, "You answer the description of the one wanted, and I must take you to the Kennington Lane Police-station"—I took him there—when we arrived he said, "I shall want you to bring in all respectable young men dressed like myself, with white collars and ties and no whiskers"—I did so as near as possible—the prisoner took off his collar and tie, placed a wrapper round his neck, and said to Inspector Low, "Will you allow me to change clothes with one of the men?"—the inspector said, "I have no objection"—the prisoner then changed with one of the men brought in, who was wearing a long brown overcoat and brown hat—the prisoner stood among seven other men—Edge was called in, looked along the row, and failed to identify him—Crabb was called in, and at once identified him—Edge, who was there, then said, "What must I be thinking about? of course that is the man that uttered the half-crown to me"—the prisoner said, "You have failed to identify me"—Edge said, "I now identify you, and I will swear you are the man; it is your clothes that has deceived me; show me the back of your hand"—the prisoner said, "I shan't"—he resumed his own clothes, and Edge said, "That is how you were dressed when you entered my shop; I will swear to your
Clothes, your face, and the back of your hands, and I will charge you—he was charged—I found nothing on him.
Cross-examined. I thought they could not see you properly because the hat was too big for you—the inspector would not interfere unless the hat was right over your eyes.
WILLIAM PAY (Policeman L 177). On 3rd December I saw Edge in the Waterloo Road, about a quarter to eleven—he gave me information and the description of a man's clothing and person—about a quarter of an hour previously I had seen the prisoner outside the Hero public-house—he had on a dark coat, waistcoat, and trousers, a white collar, and a hard felt hat—Edge handed me this bad half-crown—I was stationed that night outside the Hero, close to and on the same side as Edge's shop.
The Prisoner called
JOHN HENRY RANDALL . I keep a beer-house at 232, Waterloo Road—on Tuesday night, 3rd December, there was a meeting of the Harmonic Club, and something occurred about Mr. James Noble—I saw you there at the commencement of the club from eight to nine; I did not see where you went to after that, I did not see you go out—anybody going out would have to cross the bar.
Cross-examined. He has been a regular customer for twelve or eighteen months down to the 3rd—sometimes there might be a break of two or three days, or a week or longer, in his coming—I was told he was passing these things, and I told him and a young man who used to be with him to keep out of my house—that was three or four weeks before 3rd December.
Re-examined. It was on the day after this occurred I told you to keep out of my house—you said, "Why?" and I said, "you ought to know why"—you went out and came back with another man.
MATTHEW NOBLE . I am a general dealer, at 37, Tower Street, Waterloo Road—on 3rd December I was chairman of the Harmonic Society at Mr. Randall's—I took your money for admittance to the club about nine, I should say, directly you came in—I can't say what time you went away—you would have to cross the bar to go out.
The Prisoner, in his defence, denied all knowledge of the utterings.
GUILTY **†— Eighteen Month's Hard Labour.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
EDWARD THOMAS WHITHAM . I live at 34, Stanton Street, Commercial Road, Peckham, and am a horse clipper—on 5th December I was in Mrs. Payne's employment, and on that day I put her pony in the stable about half-past two p.m.—I fastened the stable up—next day I found the stable had been opened in the night—I next saw the pony the following week at Kennington Lane Police-station.
MARIA PAYNE . I am the wife of Henry Page Payne, and live at 180, Commercial Road, Peckham—my husband had a pony on 5th December, worth £9—on that day I went to the stable, between 7 and 8 p.m., as far as I remember, and found the pony gone—the stable-door was open—I next
saw the pony at the Green Yard, Kennington Lane—I am sure it was the same—it is a small stable, with a partition for two ponies; only one was in it—there was a bolt on the door.
EDMUND LOCKYER . I am a greengrocer, with two shops; I live at 81, Evelina Road—about six o'clock, on 5th December, I think it was just between light and dark, the prisoner came and said he had a pony for sale, and asked me to buy it, and said it was at the stable—I was too bad to go there, and he fetched it up; I bought it for £1; it was very old, and had swelled legs—I gave it to Mr. Richardson, who sold it for me for 37s. 6d., I think—I afterwards saw it outside Kennington Lane Station.
ALFRED LOCKYER . I am the last witness's brother; I live at 121, Pomeroy Street, New Cross—on 5th December, I think Friday, Richardson came to me with a pony for sale—I bought it for £1 18s. 6d., with the shilling I gave the man—the day after a detective came, and told me to take it to Peckham Station, and I did so—this is the receipt I had. (This was dated the 6th.)
CHARLES GARNER (Detective Constable). On Friday evening, 6th December, I went to Alfred Lockyer's, where I found the pony—I told him to keep it that night; afterwards I went, and he brought the pony to the station—Mrs. Payne afterwards identified it—on Thursday, 10th December, I met the prisoner at Carlton Grove, Peckham, coming out of his stable-yard with a pony and cart, between six and seven a.m.; it was dark—that was another pony, and nothing to do with this charge—I did not know him—I addressed him as Murphy, and said, "I am a police officer; I am going to arrest you for stealing a pony from 180, Commercial Road, Peckham, on the 5th, last Thursday evening; you sold it to a man named Lockyer the same evening"—he said, "Allow me to back my pony in the yard again"—I did so—he took the pony out and put it in the stable, and then I conveyed him to the station, where he said, "I bought that pony of a man, which I have got his receipt for"—he mentioned no name, but on the receipt which he had in his pocket was "Edward Jackson, 49, Lower Road, Deptford, 30s."—the 30s. was given for a pony—he was charged with stealing the pony at the station—he made no further reply—before the Magistrate he said, "I gave 30s. for the pony, and sold it for £1"—afterwards he said to me that he could point out the man whom he bought it of, if he was allowed out on bail—he gave no name, but he said he knew the house he used—he was allowed out on bail the first week, with a view of finding the man—at the station he made a statement, which the clerk took down in writing.
GEORGE GODFREY (Policeman P 212). About 9 a.m. on 17th December I was with the prisoner in the Old Kent Road—he went up to the side of a man pushing a barrow, and said, "This is the man I bought the pony of"—I said to the man, "You will have to come with me to the station while inquiries are made"—he said, "Yes, that I will willingly do; the man must be mad; I know nothing about the pony; I have never seen this man before"—the prisoner accompanied me to the station, and then went away saying he would come back, but he did not—I took the other man to the Court, where the prisoner would not say anything against him—the man gave the name of Alfred Burman; he could not write.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said he bought the pony off a man for 30s.,and sold it for £1.
MARIA PAYNE (Re-examined by the COURT). I saw the mare safe the morning previously, at ten and twelve—my husband gave £14 for mare, cart, and harness about six months before—the mare was sound in wind, and its legs were all right—we had had no accident with it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted.
JAMES WHEELER . I am a greengrocer, living at 87, Pomeroy Street,. New Cross—on Sunday night, 1st December, at eleven o'clock, I left my barrow, value £2 10s., outside the shop—next morning I missed it at seven o'clock—on the 10th I saw pieces of my barrow—my name is on this piece.
CHARLES GARNER (Detective Constable). On 10th December I arrested the prisoner coming out of a stable in Carlton Grove, Peckham, about a quarter of a mile from Pomeroy Street, with a pony and cart—I afterwards on the same day went to the stable, and in the cart I found a sack containing short pieces of wood, and all the ironwork of a barrow and two side pieces—this is one; on it is "Wheeler, 87, Pomeroy Street"—I informed Wheeler, who accompanied me and identified the property—on the 17th I saw the prisoner, and told him I had found part of a barrow in the cart he was bringing out of the stable, and I said, "That has been identified as stolen from 87, Pomeroy Street, on the 2nd of this month; can you account for that?"—he said, "I had that off of the same man that I had the pony"—I said he had said he had not had any dealings with that man before, and asked him the price he gave—he said he really could not say then—he said he did not know the man from whom he bought the pony—at that time a man was at the Court, waiting for him to adhere to his statement, but he declined to do so—he was charged with stealing the barrow—he made no reply.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said he bought the pieces of the barrow from a man for 2s.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
The GRAND JURY and the COURT commended the conduct of the police in the case.
170. JOHN GERRANS (42) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling and stealing £1 3s. 7d., the moneys of Robert James White, his master; also to stealing two crates of ginger-beer, and other articles, the property of his master; also to forging and uttering an order for the delivery of goods; and also to unlawfully making a false entry in a document of account.— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
The Prisoners had been committed for a common law misdemeanour, and indicted for gross indecency under the 11th Section of the Criminal Law Amendment Act, 1885. Application was made by Mr. THORNE COLE (for the prosecution) for leave to prefer a Bill for the last—mentioned offence on the facts disclosed in the depositions, the said Indictment having been preferred and
found without commitment or leave of the COURT being first obtained. After hearing Mr. PURCELL for defendants, and after consulting the RECORDER, leave was given, and the Indictment first mentioned was ordered to be quashed.
The Prisoners were then charged with unlawfully committing certain acts of gross indecency.
MR. THORNE COLE Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Drage, and MR. HUTTON Defended Wright.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
172. ROBERT MONK (23) , Feloniously stealing from a post letter-box a post-letter, the property of the Postmaster-General. Second Count, stealing out of a post-letter a card, the property of the Postmaster General.
MR. H. C. RICHARDS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM KEMP (Policeman V 301). On evening 23rd December, at ten minutes to eight, I was on duty in the Alderbrook Road, and I saw the prisoner standing there—I stood at the corner while he moved away—I pretended to move away, but instead of going very far I popped into a garden and hid myself, and saw him looking round the corner of the Nightingale Road and Clapham Common, with his hat off—he then came out and stood by some evergreens at the corner for about a quarter of an hour—then he went into Heronville and came out of Kelvindale, where there is a pillar-box let in the wall—somebody was approaching; he walked sharply away, and then each time he approached it somebody came up—after he had gone up to it three or four times I went up to him and asked what he was doing there—I was in plain clothes—he said, "That's my business"—I told him if he did not satisfy me I should take him into custody—he refused to do so—I took him into custody on suspicion of loitering for the purpose of committing a felony—all the way to the station he was eating something in little squares—at the station he was searched—I found on him this string, with a piece of lead at one end; there was some sticky stuff on the lead—I found sticky stuff on the aperture of the letter-box he had been to—I also found on him a box containing bird-lime, with a match in it; a pair of curling tongs, with sticky stuff in between them; these two Christmas cards, and a postage stamp, which he dropped at the Police-station—the prisoner said nothing in reply to the charge at the station.
Cross-examined by Prisoner. You were loitering before you went to the pillar-box—I swear it was bird-lime on the pillar-box aperture; it answers the description of that in the box.
Re-examined. The bird-lime in this box and that on the letter-box in Abbeville Road looks like the same stuff.
MAUD HILL . I live with my mother at North Leach, Elm Road, Clapham, and am twelve years old—I sent this Christmas card to Miss Margaret Izod, of Melwood Road, Balham Hill, on 23rd December—I wrote my name on the back of it, put it in an envelope, directed and sealed it up, and gave it to my mother to post about six o'clock—another card was for Mr. Hill.
me a letter sealed and addressed to Miss Margaret Izod—I gave it with others to my servant, Catherine Barnard, to post.
CATHERINE BARNARD . I am in Mrs. Hill's employment at North Leach—on the evening of 23rd December she gave me two letters, which I posted in a pillar-box at the corner of the Abbeville Road, about six o'clock, in exactly the same condition as my mistress gave them to me.
Cross-examined. I examined the letter-box; I found no birdlime on it; it was two days afterwards.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said he bought three cards from a man in the gutter for one penny, and did not notice the writing on the back, as it was very dark; that he came by tram from Blackfriars to Nightingale Road, and waited there to meet a friend; that the lead and string were intended for a door-spring.
In a written defence he said he had bought the curling tongs as a present for a girl he expected to meet, and that the birdlime and string and lead were both used for catching birds.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour. The Recorder commended the conduct of the constable.
MR. TURRELL Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
The Prisoner having stated in the hearing of the Jury that he was guilty of unlawfully wounding, they found a verdict to that effect. He received a good character. Discharged on £10 recognisances to come up for judgment if called upon.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
ANN MARSHALL . I live at 57, The Grove, Camberwell—on November 4th, between 5 and 7 p.m., my front door was forced, and I missed a great many things—I identify this umbrella, shirt, purse, and handkerchief (produced)—I next saw them at the Police court on January 1st.
ARTHUR KERRISSON . I am in the service of Oulson and Son, pawnbrokers, of Caledonian Road—on November 5th the female prisoner pawned this shawl and petticoat for 8s., in the name of Mary Wright; this is the duplicate—on 11th November she pawned a handkerchief, and on December 9th a pin for 2s.; these are the duplicates—I knew her as a customer, and have no doubt she is the person.
Sergeant Nearn to 3, Gilford Street, and found the male prisoner in bed, and found some pawntickets in a drawer—I spoke to him about them; the female prisoner was not present—I heard someone come into the house, and went outside the room and found the female prisoner on the stairs—I said, "You are Mrs. Brown; I am a police officer"—she went back—I said, "Don't go back, or I shall have to stop you"—she passed me, and I threatened to call the landlady to prove her identity—I said, "You have got an umbrella there; do you wish to say anything about it?"—she said, "That is mine; I bought it"—I said, "We have arrested Jack; if you wish to give any account of anything you have got you can do so now"—she said, "I have nothing to say"—I showed her some pawntickets, one relating to a shirt and petticoat, identified by Miss Marshall, and another to a handkerchief and jacket—she said, "Those are my things; I pawned them"—the prisoners were sitting side by side at the station—this umbrella was on the table, and she said, "He gave me that three months ago"—I said to him, "You hear what she says?"—he said, "Yes, that is quite right"—I said, "Do you wish to give any account of it?"—he said, "I bought it three months ago in Caledonian Road"—here are eight pawntickets altogether, one for a pin, pledged on 9th December, for two shillings, in the name of Wright—that has since been identified by Mr. Smith, whose house was broken into.
Cross-examined by the female Prisoner. I said, "You are Dot married"—you said, "No, I know I am not"—you said you had been with him three months.
JAMES NEARN (Police Sergeant). I accompanied Fox—I found this jemmy under the washstand—the female prisoner was not there—also a bottle of aquafortis, which is used for testing metal—I compared the jemmy with the marks at the prosecutor's house, and it corresponds, and particularly so with the marks at Miss Marshall's house.
Ellen Brown's Defence. The other prisoner told me he bought the things at a sale.
She received a good character— Three Days' Imprisonment.
WILLIAM BROWN, who was convicted with Taylor and Smith (see page 127), Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. BESLEY Defended.
MARY AGNES ILLINGWORTH . I am twenty years of age—I have known the defendant a little over three years—I was on friendly terms with her up to March 25th, 1888—there was then a quarrel—I am an artist—I had a correspondence of a friendly character with her between 1888 and the date of this letter (produced); I received it from Mrs. Martin on 26th October, 1889. (This was the alleged libel, marked A). (A). "Dear Madam,—Your daughter Annie was seen last night between the hours of five and half-past with a person who is not a fit companion for her. The girl Illingworth was seen last Friday evening coming out of a public-house
with a low man, reeling drunk. Save your daughter's character, and rid her of such a vile companion.—A "WELL-WISHER. "—I know the defendant's writing, and should say most decidedly that it is hers—about five letters had passed between us before I received this—there is not a word of truth in the statement that I wrote it myself, or that I caused anybody to write it at my dictation—I should say that the envelope is also the defendant's writing; I have no doubt of it—I received this other letter (D) on 21st December, 1889, enclosed in the envelope which is attached to it—(Read: "Maisonette, Balham. Agnes,—I am not going to delay writing to you, for I want to tell you about those letters. I know now the game is lost, the black cross has doomed me; I never thought my name would have been seen through it. The first letter I sent to myself to throw any suspicious person off their guard. I wanted to ruin you if I could, for I hate you. One letter was not enough, the next was to Mrs. Martin, to try to get you kicked out of that house; the others were to yourself as letters of warning, then my card for your birthday. The other letter I wrote I wanted to ruin you and your daubing, so I sent a nice little note to Mr. Tricker, telling him you were a great impostor and forger in that branch of art. A few more words: will you forgive me privately? I will never own to my sin in public; I will deny I ever wrote this letter, if you tell your friends of it. All I want is your forgiveness, and to say no more about the case. Will it be very hard? Think, oh, for God's sake, think of the love you once had for me, and in that thought forgive me.—FLORRIE HARRISON. ") I had received this letter before that, which is in the defendant's writing; to the best of my belief it was in an envelope. (Read: "Best wishes for thy misery, On this, thy natal day, I would most fervently express, But words cannot convey My heart's hatered, therefore I Content myself with this: I pray that curses from on High May make thy long life hell. "(This was written on Miss Harrison's card, the name being obliterated by a black cross in ink.) There is no pretence for sayings that I wrote the letter D, or caused or procured anyone to write it—that is the letter with a seal on it—I had no seal in my possession which would cause that impression; it is "F. E. H. "; nor did I affix that impression of a seal to this letter, nor make any person do it with my knowledge—I received the letter by post, and opened it myself—the seal was affixed to it as it is now.
Cross-examined. I had known Miss Harrison for a year and a half or two years before March, 1888—I was very fond of her, and saw a great deal of her, and received a good many letters from her—I had the misfortune to suffer from blood poisoning, and was not quite right in my head for three or four months—the doctors called it hysteria—I know Maggie Moore; she was one of my pupils—I did not, in order to annoy her, write a letter to Miss Ellington, pretending that it came from Arthur Carter, nor did I show such a letter to Miss Elking-ton, and say that I intended to send it, nor did she say, "Surely you don't intend to send it, or I shall tell him who sent it"—it is not a fact that after that, I admitted that I had written to Maggie Moore and apologised—I did apologise, I bore the blame to screen a friend—on 14th December, before the Magistrate, I said this: "I know a girl named Maggie Moore, I never wrote to her and signed it in the name of Arthur Carter; I confessed to writing it, although I did not write it, and apologised for writing it, in order to get a friend out of trouble"—
that is quite correct—it is not true that Miss Elkington had the Carter letter shown to her before I sent it, and that she said she would say who wrote it, and that afterwards I sent and apologised for it—I did apologise for it, but I did not say I had written it—I am not positive when I wrote to Miss Moore whether I said I was sorry I had written it, or that I was sorry that it had been written; I can't be sure which it was, but I did apologise; I took the blame—that was to screen Miss Nellie Buchanan; she had written to Miss Elkington—she did not say if I sent it she should tell Maggie Moore who wrote it—I never remember that being said—the quarrel of March, 1888, was smoothed a little, and I went on knowing her a little, but not so intimately, and in January, 1889, there was a breach again—I heard that Miss Harrison had received an anonymous letter, which was said to be concocted by me, and I went to see her about it—this is it—between March, 1888, and October, 1889, I had spoken, to her, but the intimacy had very much cooled—we had a little walk occasionally; afterwards it was very much cooler still—I called and said, "I hear you have received a letter which you think I wrote; will you show it to me?"—she did show it to me—I did not say, "I believe that is my brother-in-law, he will do anything"—I said to Mrs. Elkington, he might have sent it for a joke—she is the mother of Miss-Elkington; it did not strike me as anything but a joke—that was about October 24th, and on 25th Mrs. Martin handed me the letter which is the subject of this indictment—I think I employed Mr. Norman, the solicitor, between October 24th and November 7th—I live at Upper Tooting, and my father went up to Mr. Norman—I saw a copy of the letter addressed to Mr. Norman on November 7th—this is the letter. (This stated, "I beg to say I have never written to Miss Martin in my life; I know her only by name; the letter written in my name is a forgery, and therefore I cannot apologise").—Miss Harrison went into the witness box-in support of every syllable of that letter—I received letter B on 13th November, a week after Miss. Harrison had denied the forgery—this of the 15th is on one of Miss. Harrison's cards; she admitted that at the Police-court—I am an artist, and possess Indian ink—I did not paint Indian ink over this—I never had one of Miss Harrison's visiting cards in my life—she has never left one with me—on 27th November I laid information at Wandsworth Police-court—my father acted in the matter—a summons was granted on. December 4th—Mr. De Rutzen the Magistrate, suggested there should be a reconciliation, and adjourned the case for it—all we required was a public apology—Miss Harrison said in terms that she did not write the letter—she did not say to me that she had never written any letter libelling me, and she did not believe I deserved the libel—the case not being settled, it came on before Mr. Mead on December 19th, and was adjourned to January 2nd—I cannot say whether this is a genuine seal put on to another envelope—I received letter E on 27th December ("Agnes Illingworth—What is the meaning of your silence? does it mean that you have already betrayed me? Have any of your friends seen my letter of last Saturday? Show it them, and I will deny it, and make you appear as the forger. Fool that I was to ever confess to you! If you dare to betray me, I will ruin you in a way you may never dream of, or know how the blow will come. Curse you!
you have a tigress to deal with, and my hatered will drag your name through the dirt; beware of it.—FLORRIE HARRISON. "—"A warning—Hate is strong. You are enjoying a long course of freedom with your well hands. Beware of hate! one night it will do you; you, the rising dauber, curse you. Love is weak, hatered is strong.") I did not write that letter, nor did I use a crayon pencil to imitate Miss Harrison's writing, leaving the marks under the ink—my sight is very good, but I cannot see any trace of crayon pencilling in the word "that" on page 4 of letter D, nor in the signature Florrie—my solicitor had a lot of letters at the Police-court which she had written—on December 30th I received this letter, purporting to come from Dr. Ridley Hilder, my medical man—I do not think he is here—I am quite sure I did not direct that to myself and make it up myself—it says: "The powder to be taken one hour before leaving on Thursday; it will carry you through"—I have not opened the powder—I was not going away for my health—I received letter G, purporting to be written by Annie Martin, who is here. ("Guildford Lodge, Monday. Dear Agnes—My mother wishes me to write you a few lines. Miss Harrison called to see us one day last week, and we believe her to be deeply wronged. My mother declines to have anything more to do with the case, and it is also her wish and mine that you do not call here anymore. Trusting you will recover from all your disappointments, yours, etc., ANNIE MARTIN. ") I also received letter H. ("To Miss Illingworth, December 30th, 1889. It is my husbands desire, also mine, that you discontinue giving painting lessons to our daughters. We think you are far from being a fit companion to associate with young girls. Not that alone, but we do not think you are clever enough to teach painting. Do not trouble to call about this note, as we shall decline to see you.—MRS. BEAGLE. ") I know that that letter was not written by Mrs. Beagle, nor the other by Mrs. Martin—I did not write them myself—I was not aware that the prisoner did not know Mrs. Beagle's name—the seal which is said to have been transferred was not called to the Magistrate's attention—I met the prisoner coming out of church on December 1st—I do not know whether the summons had been served on her then—I said, "Florrie, will you speak to me?"—she said,"Certainly not"—this letter (M) bears my writing on the envelope; it was not registered—I did not put a sixpence inside; that was in one sent separately; I think you have the wrong envelope—this (P) is also my writing, though not belonging to the letter—I sometimes make mistakes in spelling—the matter of Frank Carter was over six years ago—I was ill, and treated for hysteria in 1888, and a doctor attended me, and since January last year Mr. Hilder attended me for blood poisoning—I have no memory as to my losing my head at that time.
Re-examined. My father sanctions all these proceedings—there is not the slightest foundation for saying that I have written any of these letters—I did suffer from hysteria—from the early part of 1889 I have not suffered in any way from any mental incapacity—I was attended by a medical man for three or four months—I did not concoct the letters signed by Mrs. Beagle and Mrs. Martin—I was only thirteen when I wrote the letter in another person's name.
I had to pay twopence on it—I opened it, read, it, and afterwards gave it to Mrs. Illingworth, the mother of the prosecutrix—I know nothing of the defendant—I am not acquainted with the Illingworth family, only with Miss Illingworth.
Cross-examined. I know nothing about the "Well-wisher" letter; my daughter was acquainted with Miss Illingworth—I am unable to form any opinion about the writing—I have never seen the defendant, or spoken to her—I have known Miss Illingworth about two years, but know but little of her, only calling occasionally at my house, and once going for a walk with her.
M. A. ILLINGWORTH (Re-examined). These (produced) are letters I received from the defendant—this last one is not; that is a letter of Miss. Elkington's to me, and I have seen her on the subject—this was actually written by her, the second Miss Elkington—I received it on November 22nd—This said, "Emily wishes me to say she shall be pleased to see you one morning, etc. (signed), ADELAIDE ELKINGTON "—I answered it by calling at the house—this pencil memorandum is mine—that is the same Miss Elkington who I was unable to say yesterday if I sent the Frank Carter letter, who wrote it.
FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFT . I am an expert in handwriting, of forty-five years' experience—I have had all the letters which Miss Illingworth has sworn to before me, and have compared them with other letters which are admitted to be in the defendant's writing—I believe letters A, B, and C to be written by the same person who wrote these (the admitted letters), but disguised—D is also written by the same hand, but more in her natural style; there is less disguise—I am prepared to give all my reasons for the opinion I give.
Cross-examined. I form an opinion merely; I do not go beyond—such opinions are sometimes acted on by juries, and sometimes not—juries have sometimes not acted on my opinion—if I was shown to be wrong, I would change my opinion—I have not been employed as an expert, and given my opinion on oath, and changed my opinion afterwards—I assisted in the information on which the summons was granted—I said that all these letters were written by Miss Harrison—I did not write this affidavit, which states point blank, "And he is prepared to swear that the letter marked A was written by the said Florence Harrison for the reasons mentioned"—Mr. Norman first spoke to me about examining A about three months ago; he did not tell me he was employed by Miss Illingworth, or that he had a letter from the young lady, declaring that it was a forgery, and that she had no reason for writing anything of the kind—I did not know that the libel A was received on the 21st, five days before the first "Well-wisher" letter—it was never suggested that her brother-in-law had written it by way of a joke—I had not seen D, E, F, G, or H on November 20th—it would be very difficult to prove that this black seal on D has been transferred from another letter—I am unable to form an opinion whether it was once attached to paper other than this envelope—I do not see any paper round it—I neither deny nor assert the fact, it is a natural seal to me.
Cross-examined. Letter G was not written by me; somebody wrote it in my name—I have known Miss Illingworth about two years; she is not at all imaginative—she has had one attack of hysteria, but not of typhoid fever, to my knowledge—I did not go many weeks without seeing her—I have had a few letters from her, "not many—I cannot form an opinion whether letter L is in her writing—I do not think it resembles it—letter A does not resemble Miss Illingworth's writing at all; I have not the least idea who wrote it—I cannot say whether she changes frequently in her likings and dislikings of her friends—she said that it had been suggested that her brother-in-law had written letter L, but she did not believe it; I can't say whether she said anything About a joke.
Cross-examined. This letter (H) was not written by me, nor is it an imitation of my writing—I know nothing about it—I never saw any of Miss Illingworth's writing—I am a perfect stranger to the prisoner.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FLORENCE ELIZA HARRISON (the Prisoner). I am single, and live with my parents at Maisonette, Balham—I made Miss Illingworth's acquaintance about three years ago—she is very excitable and imaginative—she professed the deepest love towards me—those professions were unusually strong before March, 1888—then there was a breach, after which the intimacy was renewed, and she professed just the same feelings towards me—in January, 1889, there was a further breach, and though I used to meet her sometimes, I never went to her house, but she very much wanted the friendship to be continued—I did not keep aloof, but I did not give her the same opportunity of expressing her intense love for me—I received this letter (L) on Monday, the 21st, and have no doubt at all that it is in her writing—I formed that opinion directly I received it—she called on me on Thursday, the 24th—I did not go with her to her brother-in-law, but I knew she was going there, and I met her there half-an-hour afterwards, and showed her the letter, and said, "I believe you wrote this yourself"—she said, "I did not"—I found she was going to Mrs. Elkington's, so I went there, but did not take the letter with me—she said there that she had suspicions who had sent it—Mrs. Elkington said, "Who do you suspect?"—she replied, "My brother-in-law, because he has a spite against me," and I think she said, "Or he may have done it in a joke"; I am not sure—she said, "Will you give me the letter (L)?" and of course I said, "No"—letter L begins, "The person who was seen to enter your house last Tuesday afternoon, etc., was seen reeling drunk"—I understood that to mean Miss Illingworth—I have never written or said a word imputing drunkenness to her, or anything derogatory of her—it says, "cursing you and yours"—I never heard Miss Illingworth curse anybody—this is the envelope; the word "Maisonette" is misspelt—I believe it to be Miss Illingworth's writing—I have always had that belief, and have never changed it—after the interview at Mrs. Elkington's, I heard no more about "A Well-wisher" till after Mrs. Martin took it to Mrs. Illingworth—until Mr. Norman's letter came I heard nothing more about anonymous writing—this is it. (Dated November 6th, 1889, from Mr. Norman to the witness, stating that he was instructed by Miss Illingworth to take proceedings against her for a libel in a letter
to Mrs. Martin, unless she sent an apology and retractation,)—this is my reply (Head as before)—there was no further communication from the solicitor, and the next thing was the summons—I had not seen the letter on which the indictment is founded—on the Sunday after the Friday on which I received the summons, I was coming out of church, and Miss Illingworth came up and said, "Florrie, will you speak to me?"—I said, "Certainly not"—I was shown letter A at the Police-court, and said that it was Miss Illingworth's writing—I did not write it, nor can I see much imitation of my writing—I have never written or spoken to Mrs. Martin in my life; I only know her by name—on Wednesday, December 4th, after the church incident, I attended before Mr. De Rutzen, and the summons was adjourned to the 19th, when I attended again—no pressure had been put upon me in the interval to admit the writing—my father attended to the matter on my behalf—Mr. De Rutzen adjourned the case on December 4th, for the purpose of a reconciliation; they wanted me to apologise—it was not gone into on the 19th, it was adjourned to January 2nd—I did not see letter B till January 2nd; it is not my writing, nor have I formed an opinion who is the writer—it does not imitate my writing—I saw the little card with the cross on the back on the same day—it is one of my cards—I have not left cards, but I have given them to Miss Illingworth—I do not use Indian ink at all, nor did I put a cross over my name with Indian ink—there is a peculiarity in the construction of the sentence, "I would most fervently express"; in my judgment Miss Illingworth wrote that from the style of it—I swear it is not mine—the word" hatred "is mis-spelt there and in letter E, which is an imitation of my writing, "hatred" is spelt the same—I always spell it correctly, and not "hatered"—letter D, with the seal, is an imitation of my writing—Mr. Inglis had one letter from me with my seal on it—I did not put my seal with the wax melted on this piece of paper—it is a genuine impression of my seal; this (produced) is the seal from which it was made—I cannot remember that this letter and letter E are on paper like any which I had in my possession—I believe Miss Illingworth wrote letter D—I had nothing to do with the black cross—I never wrote anything like this birthday card on my card, or any such letter to Mr. Fricker—All I want is your forgiveness, etc; think, oh, for God's sake, think!" is not my composition, but it is like hers—Dr. Hilder has nothing to do with me now—I did not make up a powder and send it—I did not write this letter to Annie Martin (G); it is undoubtedly Miss Illingworth's writing—I say that from the formation of the letters, but it is a little smaller than she usually writes—I only know Annie Martin by name; she is no acquaintance of mine—letter H is Miss Illingworth's writing, but it is not so clearly hers as G—I do not know Mrs. Beagle.
Cross-examined. I wrote this letter (J) as far as I know, but this one has been so well copied, perhaps that one was—I have no doubt it was written by me—I do not suggest for a moment that it is forged—I have no recollection of having written it—I occasionally sealed my letters to Miss Illingworth—the envelope is my writing, and this is my seal—I have no doubt the letter was sent in this envelope, which is marked "May 10, '88"—I was on very affectionate terms with her then. (This was an affectionate letter to the prosecutrix, signed "FLORRIE")—I swear that letter E is not my writing—it might deceive me looking at it just at first
but not afterwards—it is very like my writing, but some parts are not so much like, and it is very shaky—I have never said anything to Miss Illingworth about drunkenness, nor have I accused anybody else of it, nor has she actually accused anyone, but she has mentioned it to me—I suggest that the black seal on letter D has been cut off another letter and stuck on; you can see the other paper underneath—I do not think I have any note-paper like some of these letters which I dispute—if the letters put in bear the same water-mark as my admitted letters, I should say that the paper was got from the same shop—I suggest that Miss Illingworth concocted all these letters, and entered into this foul conspiracy because I refused to renew our former intimacy—our friendship was broken off because she tried to cause mischief between a mutual lady friend and myself—I was very angry with her, and would not speak to her again; if she had not been rude to me, and sent me this insulting letter (P dated February 5th, 1889), I would have passed over it—in my opinion all the letters of a scurrilous character have been written by Miss Illingworth,. and nothing will change my opinion.
Re-examined. This envelope does not belong to the registered letter—the envelope of the insulting letter is lost. (In this letter, commencing "Dear Florrie" several words were misspelt.) I did not like the tone of the sarcasm in that letter—after February 5th, 1889, I ceased to be on friendly terms with her—the letter Mr. Grain put into my hand was of May, 1888, but the final breach was not till February, 1889—she had done a very kind action for me, and I wrote the letter of May, 1888, and thanked her for it; she was most kind—I never made any derogatory speech about her.
EMILY KATE ELKINGTON . I live at Princethorpe, Clapham Common—I have known Miss Illingworth six years, or a little longer, and have had opportunities of judging of her writing—I first knew her at Miss Ward's school, where I was a pupil teacher for a year, and she was there all the time—I did not see her writing every day, but she has corresponded with me since—she showed me the Frank Carter letter—I have not the slightest doubt that letter L is her writing, and so is letter A, the libel—I take more time to look at A, but it is hers, and so are B and C, to the best of my belief—I also think G is hers, but I cannot be so positive as of the others—F, I think, is hers; there is very little difference between F and H, but F is slightly stronger—E is very like Miss Harrison's, if not, it is a very good imitation, and so is D—I know her writing very well—I think this one very shaky, the confession letter, it is written slowly—I have received a great many letters from Miss Harrison—I have known Miss Harrison two years last June—I have always found her truthful, and a most honourable woman in every way; I never knew her in a lie—after the letter in the name of Frank Carter was sent, I gave information to the person who had sent it; I never saw her apology, but I heard of it—I knew Miss Buchanan, who, she said, she was apologising for; she is dead.
Cross-examined. She said she accepted the blame to screen another friend—I think this was seven years ago; if letters D and E had been placed in my hands, or if I had received them through the post, I should have said they were Miss Harrison's, but, at the same time, I should say she had written very badly—I have broken off my friendship with Miss Illingworth; I have never been to her house within the last
year; she has visited me; if I met her out I spoke to her, but I did not return her visits at her house.
Re-examined. I cannot go into everything, and tell why I broke off with her. Q. Was it in consequence of her deceitful character? A. Well, that is a very strong word to use; my opinion of her is not so good as it was, I am sorry to say.
CATHERINE ELKINGTON . I live at Clapham Common—I remember one day when Miss Harrison and Miss Illingworth were together in my house; I daresay it was in October, Miss Illingworth asked my opinion as to whether Miss Harrison ought not to give up the anonymous letter to her—I said, "Certainly not, it may be said she never received it"—Miss Illingworth said she would have it copied, and that she suspected her brother-in-law, because he hated her so.
GEORGE INGLIS . I am an expert in handwriting, and a fac-similist—I am employed by the Government—I have had cases of persons writing libels which they attributed to others; I had a case yesterday in the High Court of Justice—I did not differ from Mr. Netherclift on that occasion—prior to 17th November, at the request of the defendant's father, I went to the Police-court, and looked at the letters and envelopes A and B, and the black cross card C—I had not then seen letter L—I was at Wandsworth Court when Mr. Netherclift gave his evidence; I saw that letter in Court, but had nothing to do with it then, that was before I was engaged—in my opinon A, B and C are all written by the same person—I have seen M and P, the admitted writing of Miss Illingworth, M is a piece of poetry—I have compared M and P with the libel A, and in my opinion they are written by the same party, and not by Miss Harrison—looking at N and O, the admitted writing of Miss Harrison, it is my opinion that she did not write A, but I find the similarity very strong between it and the poetry written by Miss Illingworth that I did not come to the conclusion that Miss Harrison wrote it—my opinion is that it was not written by Miss Harrison; there is a strong similarity between it and the prosecutrix's writing—letter D was first handed to me on the 6th January, the day of the committal, at the Police-court, and taken away; I was not able to examine it well—the letter which Miss Elkington says is shaky, is an imitation of Miss Harrison's writing—I find under the ink, traces of pencilling, the Magistrate's clerk drew my attention to it first—I daresay some of them are obliterated now (The witness here pointed out to the Jury pencillings under the ink in letters D, H, and others)—in my opinion the writing is subsequent to the pencilling—I believe letter D is not Miss Harrison's writing; it is an imitation; it is very shaky—I attribute the shakiness to the imitation—I made a minute examination of the seal subsequent to the case being sent for trial last Monday in Court here—the seal is not the hot wax dropped on the envelope; there are seven patches of wax round the edge of it, so as to cover the deception, and there is the mark of fingers—here is a sketch, where you can see it—(handing in an enlargement)—the letter Miss Elkington was cross-examined upon is also a good imitation of her writing—E is a better imitation than D, and I find pencilling there as well—I should have said at the Police-court that there was a great similarity between the writing of the anonymous letter and the defendant's letter, if I had not seen in her letters great similarity between the defendant's and the complainant's letters.
The JURY here interposed, and stated that they had heard sufficient of the case, and found the defendant
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, FEBRUARY 3RD.