CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 14TH, 1891.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
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On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
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AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
Held on Monday, December 14th, 1891, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. DAVID EVANS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Rt. Hon. Lord COLERIDGE, Lord Chief Justice of England; Hon. ARCHIBALD LEVIN SMITH , one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., Alderman of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the said City; STUART KNILL , Esq., JOSEPH RENALS, Esq., WALTER HENRY WILKIN , Esq., HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., JOHN DIMSDALE , Esq., and JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , 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.
CLARENCE RICHARD HALSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EVANS, MAYOR. SECOND 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, December 14th, 1891.
Before Mr. Recorder.
79. JACOB DE KROMME was indicted for unlawfully inciting Samuel Dash, a servant in the employ of John Thomas Ridley and others, to steal; Other Counts, for soliciting Dash to conspire with him to cheat and defraud, and to steal.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and PAUL TAYLOR Prosecuted, and MR. FORREST FULTON Defended.
SAMUEL DASH . I am manager to Messrs. Ridley, Whitley, and Co., at their branch establishment, 292, Essex Road, Islington, floorcloth manufacturers—I have been acting as manager since 1st July—on the 1st October, about two o'clock, the prisoner came to the warehouse; I had ever seen him before to my knowledge—he said, "I want to buy a job lot of floorcloth," or words to that effect—I took him through and showed him several lots of goods, and quoted the prices for them—he came up close to me and said, "I will make it all right with you, you understand," and he pushed a sovereign into my hand, which I gave back to him—I showed him three or four lots together, and offered them to him for £20; he said, "Take £10 and £2 for yourself"; I said, "No, I can't do that"; he then offered me £12 and £2; after that £14 and £2, and eventually, when we got back into the office, he offered me £16 and £2—in the office, before we came to a final agreement, he slipped a sovereign into my hand again; I opened my hand and let it drop on the office floor, and he picked it up—finally I agreed to take £18 for the goods; that was the lowest price I was authorised to part with the goods for—the prisoner paid £15 10s. then, and promised to come later and pay the balance and take the goods away—I think there was a small cheque, and the rest cash—I was not there when he returned; I understand he did call; I waited until three—on the next afternoon I mentioned what had taken place to Mr. Holding, one of the principals—and I mentioned it to one or two fellows in the office he same afternoon, Mason was one of them—on the following day,
October 2nd, I again saw the prisoner about five—he said, "I want you to make me up a job lot, and I will give you a fiver for yourself"—no business was done that day; I told him I was very busy, I had letters to write, and I put him off till Monday—that day I wrote to Scotland Yard, immediately he had gone—on the Monday morning I sent a telegram to the Islington works, postponing the matter till Wednesday—meantime, on the Saturday, I communicated what had happened to Mr. Whitley, one of the principals—on Wednesday, 7th October, about half-past three, the prisoner came to the office—at that time Detective Drew was there, under the counter; I took the prisoner round to the warehouse, and showed him three or four lots of goods; among them was a lot of 184 pieces, which I offered him for £150—I told him that was the lowest clearing price—he counted the number of pieces, but did not say anything special about them—we then went back to the office, and he took a sovereign from his purse and offered it me in the same way as before—we were leaning over the counter talking—I refused it—he took full particulars on paper; I gave him the quantities—he said he did not see his way clear to buy them—we then talked about other things—I asked him what he was going to do with the goods, if he had a warehouse—he said he had a warehouse in Fashion Street, Spital-fields, I think, but I am not very clear—he said he would think it over and come back next day; Drew was still in the room—on the next day, the 8th, he came to the office about eleven in the forenoon; Drew was again there, in the same position as before—the prisoner began by asking if I would have something to drink; he followed that up by saying, "You're a teetotaler, ain't you?"—I said, "Yes"—he then said he had been looking through the particulars of the goods, and that he could not buy them—I said they were a very cheap lot, and I could not take less—£150 was mentioned several times—he went up and had another look at the goods; I did not go with him—I sent one of my men with him—he came back, and then he saw a grease spot on my trousers, and called my attention to it—I said it was an old pair of trousers—he said, "I wish you would give me your private address, I will send my tailor to you and make you a new suit of clothes"—I laughed, and said, "Do you deal in cloth, then?"—he said, "I deal in everything"—at last I said, "It is clear we are not going to do any business, let us go and have some lemonade;" we went out, and went first to a tobacco-shop a few doors off, where I got some tobacco, and then went across to the Northampton Arms; I had some lemonade, I don't know what he had; he paid for it; we sat down in a private bar, and he again offered me a sovereign, which I refused—he said, "This is nothing to do with anybody else what I will do"—I then put the sovereign in my pocket, and afterwards in this envelope; this is it—he then said, "I began to be suspicious of you; I began to think you were not all right, you would not say anything"—I said, "It is not for me to say anything, that is for you"—he said, "Well I began to think you were one of the governors, it kept me awake all night thinking about it; I mid to myself, 'Good God! what have I done?' another thing made me suspicious; I saw several gentlemen go in and out of your office yesterday morning, and I did not like it; and another thing, one of your gentlemen came and looked through the window of your office while we were talking"—he described the gentleman's appearance—I said, "Then you were
about there all the morning yesterday?"—he said, "Yes"; I said, "where were you? I did not see you"—he said, "Never mind where I was, I saw you"—he showed me a pocket-book with a lot of notes in, he turned them over and said he had £45 in notes and £15 in gold in his pocket—he said, "I will give you a piece of paper, but not here, I would like you to give me your private address, I would rather give it you at your own place"—I gave him my address, 11, Bedford Road, Tottenham, on apiece of paper—he said, "You know this ain't robbery;" he also said, "I always pay well; the last job I sent the man something to his private house, and nobody ever knew where it came from"—he then said he would come down—I said, "When will you come? you had better come this evening at seven"—I arranged with Drew to be there—the prisoner arrived soon after seven; I let him in, and took him into the room where Brew was secreted, after he had taken off his coat—my daughter was in a room on the other side of the passage—I gave him a seat, and locked the door and said, "Now let us get to business; what is it you want me to do?"—he said, "I will give you a piece of paper";—I asked what he meant by a piece of paper—he said, "A £5 note"—I said, "Which lot do you propose to buy?"—he said, "The 184 pieces"—I said, "What do you propose to pay for them"—he said, "£80"—I said, "When are you going to fetch them away?"—he said, "To-morrow; what will be the beat time?"—I said, "About two in the afternoon is the quietest time; when will you give me the £5, now?"—he said, "No, when the goods are on the van, and I have paid for them, I will shake hands with you with a piece of paper"—his pipe had gone out, and he could not make it draw, and I reached up to the gas burner to light a piece of paper, and it caught my thumb-nail and accidentally turned the gas out—directly after that Drew came out of his place behind an American organ, and arrested him as I went and opened the door—I heard the prisoner say a lot of things, one was asking to be forgiven, and he said, "Do, Mr. Dash, get me a knife to cut my throat"—I think I showed the sovereign that I have produced to Mason and one or two others when I got back.
Cross-examined. I did not hear all that passed between the prisoner and Drew—when I turned the gas out the room was in darkness till I opened the door; there was a light in the passage—Drew was quite concealed behind the organ—my employers carry on business at 48, Newgate Street—the warehouse in Essex Road was in my' charge since 1st July—it was in contemplation to give it up—there were perhaps four or five thousand of these pieces in the warehouse—they were not samples or remnants, they were the remains of old stock—the price at which I offered them was 25 per cent. off the list price and 5 per cent, discount for cash; that was the lowest limit I had to offer, that was Mr. Whitley's authority, the head of the firm—that was my general instruction—the prisoner told me he had been to Newgate Street, and had been sent on from there; he showed me one of our labels, which I recognised—I think the first time he mentioned the warehouse in Fashion Street was on the 7th—he said he acted as cook at the soup-kitchen in the warehouse—he never connected that with his warehouse—I don't remember that anything was said as to my position at the warehouse, I think he would take that for granted—when ho first came he said he wanted a job lot, I showed him perhaps six or seven lots before I came to this lot—I asked him if he would buy
by the square yard—he said he only wanted to buy job lots—I did not say he could have the first lot for £12—I did not say I should want £30 for the lots I ultimately sold him—he did not say that was too dear, it was not worth £14—he did not then offer £15, nor did I say he should have it for £22; there was no such conversation—£16 and £20 were mentioned, but not in the order in which you put them—he said, "I will give you all I have got in my pocket"—I said, "It depends how much you have got," and he emptied his pocket—I said they were worth £20, and that he would clear £10—the money in his pocket, including a small cheque, came to £15 10s.—the price of £18 was agreed on before the money was counted—no one else was present at that moment—the negotiation between us lasted twenty minutes or half an hour; when we got back to the office he put the sovereign into my hand before we had agreed the price—I deny that there was no offer of £1—I heard he had been to the office in the afternoon and taken away the goods; I did not see him then—it was about five o'clock on 2nd October when I caw him; the only offer made then was that of a fiver to make him up a job lot; there was no actual offer of coin—the conversation was open, and took place in the warehouse; about fifty men were about there, but it is a large place, and there was no one near enough to hear what was said—he was a stranger to me before the 1st—the second time on that 1st I let the £1 drop on the floor, and no doubt he picked it up and put it into his pocket again—I cannot say whether there was any question in his mind on the 1st that I was not likely to take money; I made it pretty apparent what my conduct was; I was rather surprised that he offered it a second time, and I was still more surprised that next day, I having twice refused the £1 on the first, he should offer me £5; I expressed my surprise to the men in the office—I said to the prisoner I could not do that sort of thing—I next saw him on the 7th, I think—on the 8th we went to the public-house—I did not say to him, "You can afford it; you made enough money out of that lot; you did not behave well to me," nothing of the sort—I did not say, "I should not care very much if I could get a pair of trousers out of it"—in the office he noticed my trousers were spotted with grease, and suggested that I should have a new pair—nothing was said about trousers at the public-house—he did not say, "I did not like to offer you anything, I took you for one of the governors"—I did not say, "No, I am only manager, they took me away from the shop in Newgate Street and sent me here to be salesman to clear out the goods," I don't remember that—he said he took me for one of the governors, but the other things I don't remember—Q. Did he say, "I thought you were one of the governors," and then "If I don't offend you there is a sovereign," handing you one? and did you say, "Thank you," and take it? and did the prisoner say," I have concluded my bargain and made something out of it"? intimating that if, in clearing the warehouse, you came across anything you was to keep it, and let him know and he would come—A. The only things about that that is true are that he thought I was one of the governors, and that he gave me a sovereign; I don't think anything else of that is correct—it was not suggested to me that if I came across any more remnants I should let the prisoner know, and that he would come—I did not say, "Yes, I will; if there are any job lots left when we come to clear out the warehouse I will let you know"—I produce that sovereign
—we had a lot of pears last summer, I mentioned that to him—he suggested he should come to my house, and fixed the time—nothing was said about pears then, I think; in a previous conversation I said I had about 2,000 pears—most of them were given away; we have some at home now—I did not hold out as an inducement that he should come and dispose of these pears; I don't know what he had in his mind—I did not hear him say anything about pears when he came to my house; I did not suggest that he should eat one, and he did not do so; nothing was said about pears, and they were not produced, to the best of my recollection—there was no tea—he did not say, "I did not come to transact any business, I came to look at the pears"—I had the policeman behind the organ—the conversation was not that I said, "How much are you going to give me, £10 or £5?" and that he said, "What do you mean? I don't know what you mean"—he did not say anything of that sort; he offered me £5 directly—I did not hold out my hand—the prisoner did not then say, "Are you a Forester?" he spoke about being a Forester or Oddfellow when he said what he meant by shaking hands with me with a piece of paper—I did not say, "I am not a Forester, I am an Oddfellow; never mind all that, you give me £5 now"—nothing was said about that—when I asked him if he was going to give me the £5 now, he said he had brought no money with him—I did not say, "Come to-morrow and bring £5 with you, and then I will shake hands with you;" he said that—the prisoner's pipe had gone out; I tried to light it, and while doing so the one gas-burner which was alight went out, and as there was no other light in the room, and that produced complete darkness, I went out to get a light, and as I opened the door to do so I heard the organ moving—I did not see the constable jump out and seize the prisoner by the throat—with regard to the £150 lot the goods were patterns which were out of print, old designs—a sovereign was offered three times altogether on the 7th, once when the detective was there—I have no recollection that the prisoner ever made an offer for the £150 lot—I heard the detective say he heard offers of £75 and £80—on the 8th I did not tell the prisoner I had sold some of the 184 pieces, but I told him I had sold some of the other lots—when the £1 was offered on the 7th the detective was under the counter, we were leaning over the counter; the prisoner was speaking in a very confidential tone then—in my original statement to the solicitor I said that the prisoner said, "I always pay well; the last time I sent something to the man's private house, and no one knew where it came from"—it was not asked me at the Police-court, and I did not say it there—my evidence was not read over to me there; I asked to be allowed to read it through, and they said they could not let me; they had not time and could not wait, and then I signed it;—I don't know if any goods had been stolen from the warehouse before I went there on 1st July; the stocktaking on 30th June showed a large deficiency—there was no stocktaking between 30th June and 1st October—I do not know if it was in consequence of the deficiency that I was put in charge of the warehouse; I should say not—I did not know of the deficiency then, not till the beginning of September probably—I knew it when the balance-sheet was struck, which was perhaps at the end of September or beginning of October; it took some time to work out the figures—it was before I saw the prisoner—my predecessor was one of the firm, who retired on 1st July—stock is only taken once a year—I did
not hear that there was to be a special stocktaking in consequence of the discovery at Christmas.
Re-examined. There were foremen at Essex Road, under the member of the firm who retired, and they had considerable power, and had been there at the beginning of the year—it was a general deficiency in the stock over the entire business at the three or four places; there are large works at Edmonton.
FRANK MASON . I am a clerk in the employment of the prosecutors—on the 1st October I was in the Essex Road warehouse when the prisoner came there—he came a second time to take away the goods which he said he had purchased—three parcels were delivered to him, and then he pointed to another lot, which had not been sold to him, saying, "Now that lot"—I said, "You know what you have bought, and I know better"—I refused to let it go—the parcel he pointed out was worth much more than the next lot to it, which he had previously bought—Mr. Dash, the manager there, spoke to me on 1st and 2nd—after the 8th October ho showed me a sovereign.
Cross-examined. I had been shown what the prisoner had purchased—he claimed two pieces which I disputed; I referred to the man, and found the prisoner was right, that he had purchased those two pieces; they were standing up in different parts of the warehouse away from the others, and I refused to let him have them—I told him I was well acquainted with what he had purchased.
Re-examined. They had no reference at all to the lot he pointed out; they were in a different part of the warehouse altogether.
JOHN THOMAS WHITLEY . I am the senior partner of the firm of Ridley, Whitley and Co., of 42, Newgate Street, and 292, Essex Road—Mr. Dash was appointed our manager of the Essex Road warehouse in July; he has been twenty-five years in our employment—I had gone over the 184 pieces, and had pointed them out as a lot to be sold at 25 per cent, off and 5 per cent, discount, which worked out at £150 within a few shillings—he was not authorised to sell that parcel for anything less than that amount, and he had no discretion in the matter below that amount—on the 3rd October Mr. Dash made a statement to me; he had communicated with the police before that—subsequent proceedings were taken with my authority.
Cross-examined. We think there was a large deficiency of stock on 1st July—stock was taken on 30th June, and the amount was estimated fully two months afterwards—we had not taken stock between 1st July and 8th October—a member of our firm had had charge of the Essex Road warehouse to a certain extent, but he had managers under him who had to pay attention to the business generally, not only foremen—one foreman is not in our employment now—a number of persons are not in our employment now, but it is not consequent on the deficiency, but because we had made up our minds to dismiss a certain number of the staff there before the stocktaking was finished—we were not able to find out in any way how this large deficiency of stock had arisen.
Re-examined. A foreman who was there with our former partner is no longer in our service.
Dash were there in consultation, and then I went away—I did not hear what was said.
EDWARD DREW (Detective Sergeant). On 3rd October I received instructions from Scotland Yard, and went to these premises in Essex Road, where I saw Mr. Dash, who made a statement to me—after seeing Mr. Whitley I suggested sending off a telegram to alter the date from Monday, 5th, to Wednesday, 7th—that was sent—on Wednesday, 7th, I went to the premises and to Mr. Dash's office, and there I concealed myself under the counter—about half-past three p.m. the prisoner came in—Mr. Dash was there, and left the office with him—shortly after they returned, and a conversation took place between them; I heard part of it, it was in reference to the different lots—the prisoner asked for particulars as to each lot that had been shown—I heard £60 mentioned: for one lot, £150 for another, £210 for another—an appointment was made for the prisoner to come back next morning, and he left, taking with him the particulars of the different lots—I could not hear all the conversation from where I was concealed, as they moved about the office—the next day, the 8th, I again concealed myself in the same place—the prisoner came in about half-past ten, and there was further conversation about pieces and prices, and then he and Mr. Dash left the office together—I could not hear all the conversation—afterwards Mr. Dash returned alone in about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes' time, and an arrangement was made between me and Mr. Dash that I should go to his private house that evening; he also showed me a sovereign—that evening I went to 11, Bedford Road, Tottenham, shortly before seven—Mr. Dash let me in, and I saw Miss Dash there—I went into the front room ground floor, and effectually concealed myself behind a small American organ drawn diagonally across the room; I was between the organ and the corner—after a short time the prisoner came in; Mr. Dash entered the room with him—I could hear pretty well what took place—Mr. Dash said, "Let us get to business; what is it you want me to do?"—the prisoner said, "I want to give you a piece of paper for yourself"—Mr. Dash said, "What do you mean, £5 or £10?"—the prisoner said, "£5; which lot is the 184 pieces?"—Mr. Dash said, "The £150 lot"—the prisoner said, "When would be the best time to take them away?"—Mr. Dash said, "About two o'clock to-morrow afternoon; when are you going to give me the £5?"—the prisoner said, "To-morrow, when you give me the goods to take away"—Mr. Dash said, "Why not give it to me now? You had plenty of money this afternoon, £60; what did you do with it?"—he said, "I left it at home; there is the other large piece there, the other lot, could you put them in for me with them?"—Mr. Dash said, Yes"—the prisoner said, "When I come to take the things away I will shake hands with you, and put it in your hand"—the prisoner said he would give £80 for the £150 lot; Mr. Dash said, "What do you propose to pay?" and he said £80—he asked if he was a Forester, and he would show him how Foresters shook hands; that was in connection with the giving of the money—the gas was turned out, and Mr. Dash opened the door and let in some light From the hall, and then I emerged from my hiding-place, and in doing so the organ was pushed on one side, and directly the prisoner heard the organ move he made a rush out into the passage, and I caught him just against the street door, and before I said anything to him he cried out at once, when
I caught him, "Oh, forgive me! I have been led into it; oh, do forgive me!"—he was crying and shouting, shouting out this at the top of his voice—I brought him back into the room, and he threw himself into a chair, and put his hands on his throat as if ho were trying to tear it; he said, "Oh, forgive me! I have been led into it"—he asked me to give him a knife, and he would cut his throat, or to get a knife and cut his throat for him—I was unable to say anything to him; this lasted very nearly five minutes, and for the whole of that time he was crying and halloaing out—when I got an opportunity I said, "lama police officer; I am going to take you into custody on a charge of inciting Mr. Dash to steal from his master"—he began again, and said, "Oh, forgive me! I have been led into it"—we pacified him; I put his coat and hat on, and took him to the station, where the inspector charged him with inciting Mr. Dash to steal; he was crying; he said, "I did not steal anything; I have not stolen anything"—I said, "You are not charged with stealing; you are charged with inciting Dash to steal"—he said, "I have been led into it"—he gave his name and address as Jacob de Kromme, 54, Cornwall Street, Shad well, and described himself as a costermonger; that was his general business—I went to 54, Cornwall Street—his name was not up, but there was a board with "Dutch Pickles Sold" on it—it was a very small one-storied house, with ground and first floors—there was a very small shop—there were Dutch pickles, in bottles and half-barrels, as they are usually sold—I have been to Fashion Street, Spitalfields; there was no warehouse there belonging to the prisoner, but I made careful inquiries—there is a soup-kitchen there.
Cross-examined. When I came out from behind the American organ the gas was out, and whatever light there was came from the hall—I did not jump out and seize him—I seized him when I found he was going out of the front door—I did not come out very sharp; he rushed away as soon as he saw something moving—he did not scream out at once, "I have been lured into this; I have been misled; don't cut my throat"—the hall I caught him in was lighted, and by the time I got him back into the room Mr. Dash had lighted the gas—when I said I was a detective the prisoner did not say, "I am not afraid now; I have been misled; I thought it was a robber"—I was asked that at the Police-court—the prisoner asked for a glass of water before we left; he seemed sorry to think he was in the hands of the police, and in a condition of abject terror; he cried; it is not unusual for persons to cry when they are arrested—I should think if a man were seized in the dark by a person he thought was a robber he would try to escape—I searched him there—he did not say he had been misled, nor that he was innocent; he said he had been led into it—at the station he said, "I have been led into it, do forgive me!"—he was crying during the whole of the time at the station; he may have said there, "I am innocent," I should not say he did, I made no note; if it is in the depositions he did say so—I think he said, "I am innocent; I have been led into it; forgive me!"—he did not say it before he was at the station; he cried all the way there—on 7th October I was under the counter, I heard nothing about a sovereign being given—I was hiding myself; I heard what I could—I understood some pieces had been sold out of a lot, and I thought it might apply to the £150 lot—my deposition was read to me, I cannot say if Mr. Dash's was read to him, our hearings were on different days—I said before the
Magistrate that on October 8th, when the defendant came, Mr. Dash told him he had sold some pieces; I did not understand from which lot, and that from different lots he would add pieces to make up the £150—I heard the prisoner say he would give £75, and I think £80 was afterwards mentioned; that was not in response to Mr. Dash that he would make an offer; he did not make an offer—I did not hear Mr. Dash say, when he came in, "There are only two of us here," or anything of that kind—the prisoner did not say he was innocent at the house.
CHARLES COGLAN (Inspector). I was in charge of the station when the prisoner was brought there on the night of October 8th—when the charge was read he was crying very much, and he said, "I did not steal anything"—I told him he was not charged with stealing, and read the charge again to him and explained it—he said, "I am innocent; I have been led into this;" he was crying and sobbing very bitterly.
MR. FULTON submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury. With regard to the counts charging the inciting the witness Bash to commit larceny, if the facts did not disclose that there could be any felony in Dash for disposing of his master's goods, there could not be a misdemeanour in the prisoner for inciting him to commit that offence. If Dash had sold the goods for less than their proper price, that would be a breach of his duty; but he could not be indicted for stealing, as he would not have appropriated the goods to his own use, but only sold them for his master, deriving for himself some pecuniary benefit by the transaction. As to the counts charging an incitement to conspire to cheat and defraud the prosecutors of their goods and moneys, there could be no such conspiracy, because no moneys had passed into the prosecutor's possession, and a person could not be defrauded of what he had not got, and no goods would have passed into the possession of Dash. It was no more than a corrupt arrangement to let the prisoner have a good bargain. The last count charged incitement to conspire to steal, and the same arguments would apply. An incitement to commit something which did not amount to a misdemeanour could not itself be a misdemeanour. Upon the whole, therefore, the counts, although good in form, failed from want of evidence. MR. MATHEWS contended that the incitement to commit a misdemeanour charged in the fourth count was itself a misdemeanour, and that upon the other counts it was a question for the Jury whether the evidence had not established an incitement to steal, and an incitement to conspire to steal. If Dash had fallen in with the suggestion made by the prisoner, and had allowed the goods to leave the premises on payment of a less price than should have been paid, a joint felony would have been committed by them.
THE RECORDER ruled that the case must go to the JURY, but that if necessary he would reserve the point. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Judgment reserved.
84. FREDERICK SELF (24) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Daniel Treen, and stealing three shillings therein; also to a conviction of felony in January, 1891.— Nine Months' Hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
85. PATRICK SULLIVAN (21) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Albert Broderick, and stealing three salt cellars and other articles; also to a conviction of felony in January, 1889, in the name of George Wright.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
86. SAMUEL JAMES BRYANT (21) , to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £9 16s., and to forging and uttering a receipt for the payment of the same sum, he being employed under the Post Office.— Judgment respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
87. MARSHALL WATSON (38) , to stealing a post letter, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office; also to stealing nine post letters.— Twelve Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
88. GEORGE HENRY CALVERT , to stealing a post letter, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
90. JOHN TOMLIN (27) , to stealing a post letter, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(91). WILLIAM DAWSON (39), to stealing a post letter-bag and eight registered letters, the property of the Postmaster-General, he being employed under the Post Office.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 14th, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended.
EMILY ELFRED . I am barmaid at the Admiral Carter, 8, Bartholomew Close—on 14th November, about three p.m., the prisoner came in and asked for half a pint of four ale—he handed me a sixpence—I put it in the till, and thought it dropped down rather light—that was the top compartment; it was empty—he drank his beer and went out—he asked me whether we made pennyworths of Burton—about five minutes afterwards he came into another compartment, and called for half a pint of ale—Mrs. Green, who was in the bar, told me to serve him, and while I was drawing the beer he asked Mrs. Green whether we made pennyworths of bitter; she said "No"—I had my suspicions, and went to the till and tested the second sixpence, and found it bad—I had not put it in the till; I gave it to Mrs. Green, and she broke it—I told her in his hearing, and she went to the till and found the other one was bad; she said, "Do you know you have given me a bad sixpence?"—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Green and myself were the only persons serving—I had been in the bar since eleven a.m.; but Mrs. Green and Mr. Thomas Green were in the bar while I went to dinner, but it was in the bar-parlour—I had never seen the prisoner before—Mr. Thomas Green was not called at the Police-court—the till is Fox's patent—I gave
the prisoner fivepence change—many good sixpences are light—I have been at the house three and a half years—Mrs. Green broke the second sixpence with snappers; they are pretty strong—I do not think they are strong enough to break a good coin—I had not taken anything between the first and second time—I tested it with acid first—I do not know whether it was broken.
MINNIE JULIA GREEN . I am a widow, and keep the Admiral Carter public-house—on Saturday, 14th November, about 2.47 p.m. I cleared the till—I saw the prisoner in the bar about 2.55; I heard him ask my barmaid for a glass of ale, and as he was going he asked her if we made pennyworths of Barton, which caused me to look up, and I noticed him—I saw him go out—he came in again about five minutes afterwards by the back entrance, which brought him into a different compartment—I walked towards him, and he asked me for half a pint of ale—I called to the barmaid, and she brought it—he asked me if I sold pennyworths of bitter—I said, "No"—that raised my suspicion, and I looked at him again—he tendered a sixpence—I went with the barmaid to the till, and tested the coin with a bottle of acid with which I test silver; it turned black—I took it to the break, and broke it in two pieces—this was the second coin—I said to the prisoner, "You nave been here before"—he said, "No, I have not"—I said, "You came in at the front entrance"—he said, "Oh, no; I did not"—I then went to the till, and there was only one sixpence there, the first one; I put the acid on it and it turned black—I said to my barman, in the prisoner's hearing, "Just see to this man, will you?" holding the broken sixpence in my hand the last one tendered—the barman said, "What is the meaning of this?"—I did not hear the prisoner answer, but I saw him tender a shilling to the barman, and say, "See, is that a good one?"—it was good—I said to the barman, "He has given another bad sixpence; charge him"—I sent for a constable, and he was given in custody—I do not know what became of the first sixpence.
Cross-examined. There were several other men in that compartment—I found the first sixpence in the glass on top of the till; there was nothing else there—I took it out and tested it, and cannot tell what became of it afterwards.
THOMAS GREEN . I am barman at the Admiral Carter—on 14th November Mrs. Green said to me, in the prisoner's presence, "See to this man, he has passed a bad sixpence"—she gave me a sixpence; I broke it, and put the two pieces down and said, "This won't do"—he gave me a shining—I saw Mrs. Green come from the till with another bad sixpence—the prisoner was charged.
JOHN DEMPSEY (City 357). I was called to the Admiral Carter on 14th November, about 3.15 p.m., and Mrs. Green said she wished to charge the prisoner for changing two bad sixpences—he said, "No such thing, I came in and called for a drink, and tendered sixpence; they told me it was bad, and said I had been in before"—I told him he would have to go to the station—he said, "All right; don't make a show of me"—I searched him at the station, and found three shillings, six sixpences, and 1s. 10 1/2 d. in bronze—before he was charged he said, "I gave the other sixpence to a man in the bar; I don't know him"—Thomas Green handed me this sixpence in two pieces (produced)—the bronze was
und in one pocket, and the three sixpences were in a pocket of his overcoat.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this sixpence is counterfeit—a good sixpence will break in a tester, with unusual force—a counterfeit coin bends, and you break it by bending it back.
M. J. GREEN (Re-examined). I just put the coin into the tester and bent it down, and it broke as it fell into my hand.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "All I say is, I did not know it was bad."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WALTER OUTRAM (City Detective). On the afternoon of 7th November I was on duty in Gracechurch Street, and saw the prisoners together—I followed them to Leadenhall Market, and through several streets to London Street, Fenchurch Street—they were in company all that time—Cooper went into a shop in Leadenhall Street, and remained about twenty minutes; he came out, and Rice crossed over to him—I went into the shop and spoke to Miss Stephenson, the manageress, and came out and found the prisoners in Railway Place—I followed them some distance, and came back to Railway Place again, and spoke to Sergeant Funnell, who caught hold of Rice and I of Cooper—I said, "We are police officers; you will be charged with uttering a counterfeit half-crown at a shop in London Street; "neither of them said anything—we took them into the doorway of 65, Fenchurch Street; I put my hand in Cooper's right-hand pocket, and took out this counterfeit half-crown—I then put my hand in Rice's coat pocket, and found a piece of paper with coins wrapped up separately, with paper between each—I saw that they were bad, and said, "You will be charged with having counterfeit coin in your possession"—Cooper said, "I did not know it was bad"—they were taken to Seething Lane Station, where I searched Cooper, and found two good florins and a penny; Tew searched Rice, and found ten counterfeit florins and two half-crowns on him—I saw about £3 in good money found on Rice—Cooper said, "I did not know it was bad;" Rice said nothing—they each said, "I refuse my address"—I went back and saw Miss Stephenson, who handed me another bad half-crown.
FRANCIS FUNNELL (Police Sergeant G.E.R.). On 7th November I was in uniform; Outram spoke to me, and we followed the two prisoners—I took Rice, and saw Outram take Cooper, and take from him some florins or half-crowns, and several coins from the leg of his trousers.
FREDERICK TEW . I went to Outram's assistance, and aided in taking the prisoner to the station—I searched Rice, and found ten florins and two half-crowns wrapped in paper in the inside of the left leg of his trousers, with newspaper between each coin, and £3 0s. 11d. in good money, also a bottle of phosphate of ammonia, which is used for cleaning metal.
EMILY STEPHENSON . I manage the shop of Mr. Silk, 14, London Street, Fenchurch Street—on 7th November, in the afternoon, Cooper came in for a sausage-roll and gave me a half-crown; I put it on a shelf and took two shillings and a sixpence off; I put the sixpence in the till
and gave him fourpence—there was no other half-crown or large coin on the shelf—he left, and Sergeant Outram came in and spoke to me; I went to the till and found the half-crown was bad, by the weight—I gave it to the sergeant—I marked it when he came a second time—this is it.
WILLIAM THOMAS WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these four half-crowns are bad; this one is from the same mould as one of those found on Wright—here are twenty florins, wrapped up in half loads of ten, all counterfeit—phosphate of ammonia may be used for cleaning anything; I believe photographers use it as well.
Cooper's Defence. Rice picked them up in Cannon Street, and gave me two, and I went and passed one and gave him the change.
Rice, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, stated that he picked up the coins in Cannon Street in a brown paper bag, and not knowing they were bad gate two of them to Cooper, who changed one of them, and came back and said that it was good; and while they were talking they were arrested. GUILTY — Eighteen Months Hard Labour each. The JURY commended Sergeant Outram.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 15th, 1891.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. KEMP, Q.C., and GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted, and M. R. FORREST FULTON Defended.
The JURY, being unable to agree, were discharged without returning any verdict.
MR. ROACH Prosecuted.
SOLOMON SWALE . I live at 39, Baring Street, Islington, and am foreman to the Commissioners of City Sewers—between eight and half past p.m., on 10th November, I was in Shepperton Road, Islington, with two small jugs in my hands, when the prisoner met me and struck me on the breast several times—two or three minutes after another man came up—I was deprived of my senses for a short time; I put the jugs down, and seized and held him, and while I did so the other man took my watch and chain from my breast pocket and ran away—I held the prisoner—I made to follow the other man, and the prisoner held me; he would have followed the other man, but I held him till a policeman came, and I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Nobody was round us—I met you thirty yards from my door—I charged you at the time with thumping
and punching me in the breast; I have the pain now—I had beer in the jugs—I caught you by the collar and tie.
ALBERT TIMS (N 361). On 20th November my attention was attracted to a crowd in Shepperton Street—I went, and saw the prisoner held by the prosecutor, whe said the prisoner and another man had stolen his watch and chain, and he gave the prisoner in charge for assaulting him; he said he had struck him several times—he was very much upset and excited; he appeared to be in pain, and was unable to attend the Police-court for a week afterwards—the prisoner said, "I have not stolen his watch; I have only been in the public-house to have a glass of beer; you may search me"—he was taken to the station; he made no statement there—the watch has not been recovered.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor was holding you in the Shepperton Road, against the public-house—Baring Street is close by, on the opposite side of the road.
PATRICK SHANNAHAN (G 211). On the night of 10th November I was called to the Rosemary Branch public-house, where I saw the prosecutor and Tims holding the prisoner—the prosecutor said the prisoner had stolen his watch and struck him in the chest; the prisoner said, "Search me, search me, I have not got a watch"—we took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Several men, respectable as far as I know, spoke in your favour, and said you did not do it; that was as to stealing the watch—on the next morning the prosecutor did not appear against you; I went to his house, and he was too ill to attend; I saw him sitting in a chair by the fire.
The prisoner said he came out of a public-house and asked the prosecutor, who was coming across the road shouting police, what was the matter, when the prosecutor seized him and said he was one of them.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MCMORRAN Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN SPARKS . I am the landlord of the Grapes public-house, Mill Street—on the night of 4th December I was the last up; I locked up my premises—there is an outside gate fastened by a padlock; and a door, partly glass and partly wood, locked—about three o'clock in the morning I was called up by a constable—I found the lock of the front gate broken, and the fanlight over the door pushed back—anyone by getting through the gate and fanlight could get in the house.
----DEX (C 30). About half-past two a.m. on 5th December I was with another constable on duty in Regent Street—I noticed the prisoners down Conduit Street, loitering—I lost sight of them four or five times, and shortly afterwards they came hurriedly out of Mill Street, up Conduit Street, and along Regent Street towards Burlington Street—seeing me and the other constable coming after them they ran up Chapel Court—we went after them and stopped them; Parker dropped this chisel—I picked it up and asked Parker what it was—he said, "I don't know; I found it in Piccadilly, and am going to
take it home to my father"—the other constable had Perkins—at the station Parker gave his name and address, "Henry Parker, Windmill Street, Tottenham Court Road"—Perkins gave an address at Stamford Street—I have inquired at those addresses, and cannot hear anything of them.
Cross-examined by Perkins. You did not walk towards us, but away from us.
Cross-examined by Parker. You were living with your mother, who is separated from your father.
ROBERT SCOTT (C 396). I was on duty in Regent Street on this morning, and saw the prisoners go down Conduit Street and turn into Kill Street; they were there about two minutes, and then came hurrying back, and stood at the corner together for a few seconds—they went up Conduit Street—we went after them up Chapel Court—Parker dropped the chisel—I took Perkins, and told him I should take him into custody for loitering—he said, "All right, governor; I will go quiet."
THE RECORDER considered that no ease of burglary had been established, as there was no proof of entry.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 15th; and
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
99. WILLIAM CARLISLE (28) , to stealing a watch, a pin, and three rings, of Samuel Morris Samuel, his master; and to three other indictments for stealing other articles.— Eight Month' Hard Labour. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(100). HARRY CLARK (45) and WILLIAM BROOKHOUSE (28) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Riley Harrisson, and stealing two rabbits and a hutch, his property. CLARK.— Six Months' Hard Labour. BROOKHOUSE — Eight Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. MACKENZIE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM DUDLEY . I have known the prisoner four years—on 18th November he came to me and said, I am expecting a cheque from the country for some work I have done"—he came with me from the fire at Bethnal Green to my shop, and said, "Can you get us this cheque changed?"—he left me for half-an-hour, and then he left and came back with the cheque, and asked me if I could get it changed; I said I could not, but my wife could, and he signed his name on the back and handed it to Mr. (This was dated November 13th, on the London and County Banking Company, for £5 15s., payable to J. Marsh or order. Endorsed J. Marsh. William Dudley)—I said, "Is it all right?"—he said, "Yes, I received it for some work from Lowrie and Co."—I do not keep a banking account; my wife took it over to Mr. Dixon, the draper, and got the change, and I gave the prisoner the £5 15s.—the cheque was returned marked, "No account—I saw the prisoner in a public-house the
following Tuesday; I called him out and said, "Jim, you know this cheque you got me to change; it has been returned, marked ‘No account'"—he said, "Why do not you take it somewhere else and change it?"—I said, "It is stamped all over it' No account,' so I can't"—he said, "Where does the man live? where is Peckham and where is Fulham?"—I said, "Fulham is out Hammersmith way and Peckham is over the water"—he said, "Oh, it must be Fulham, then"—I arranged to go with him next day to find the man Lowrie; he promised to do so, but never came.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You gave me a false address, 73, Baker Street; you did not live there; you lodged at a coffee-shop—I said I would meet you on Wednesday; I waited till two o'clock, but you never came—I did not move away to avoid paying two quarters' water rate—I did move away last Saturday week.
By the COURT. He gave me the cheque at a public-house next door to my shop—I have known him four years as making butlers' trays and trussels—he had a workshop opposite where I live, for twelve months—he endorsed it in my presence—this "J. Marsh" is his writing—I am not certain whether I went to No. 63 or 73, but I can prove he lived at a coffee-shop, and not at the address he gave.
JAMES EDWARD PERREN . I am a cashier at the London and County Bank, Shoreditch—H. Lowrie and Co. have not an account there—this cheque was sent there—it has been taken from the book of Dean and Whitfield, who had 100 cheques to order on April 11, 1891.
JAMES DEAN . I carry on business at 20, Dunstan Street—this cheque is one of seventy-two stolen on 17th May, when there was a burglary at my house—the counterfoils were lost at the same time—there is none of my writing in it—I did not authorise anybody to draw it—I do not know Lowrie and Co.
ELY PORTER (Police Sergeant H). On November 19th I saw the prisoner in the Bull and Mouth, High Street, Shoreditch—I said, "I am a police officer, and have a warrant for your arrest"—I read it to him—he said, "I thought Dudley might have given me a chance"—he was charged with unlawfully obtaining £5 15s., not with forgery.
Cross-examined. You did not say, "He promised to wait till Saturday," or "I took the cheque from a man in Curtain Road for some work.
Witness for the Defence.
JAMES MARSH . I am the prisoner's son, and am 15 years old—I work at a cabinet maker's—I was with the prisoner when he sold some butlers' trays to a man who stopped us in Curtain Road—he gave my father this cheque—my father gave him a post-card, and he went into the Blue Lion—this was on a Thursday in last month—I went to Mr. Dudley on Thursday, and said, "Wait till Saturday, and father will give you the money"—he said, "No; I will put it in the hands of the police."
Cross-examined. It was between twelve and one o'clock when we met the man who gave my father the cheque—I work at 75, Virginia Road, Shoreditch—we went out with the work on a' bus, and the man stopped us and asked what we had, and we said some butlers' trays—there were twelve sets—there are three to a set—our dinner-hour at the workshop is from one to two; but I was working with my father at that time—I
read the cheque—the price of the butlers' trays was ten shillings a set—I do not know the man's name; I have seen him before; I have not seen him to-day—I do not know where he lives—he put the trays in a van—I did not see any name on it.
Prisoner's Defence. I sold the trays and got the cheque for them. I have been in business sixteen years, and have taken cheques, and never had such a thing happen before, and if he had waited till Saturday I should have paid him.
NOT GUILTY .
102. JAMES GANNER (28) and HENRY DAVID REYNOLDS (22) PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Sidney Seanard Legg, and stealing a watch and 35s., his property.—>GANNER— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
RICHARD NALDER . I am a turncock in the service of the New River Company—on 14th November, a little after one a.m., I was six or seven yards from my street-door when the male prisoner came up and made a snatch at my chain—I then received a blow on the left side of my head over my ear, which knocked me down in the gateway—he kicked me on my face and under my arm—I called out, "He is off with my chain"—I had got my watch off the chain—my wife heard me, and came out, and the female prisoner got hold of her and put her hair round her wrist and kept her down—I do not know whether she threw her down—they both ran away, but were brought back, and I gave them in charge.
Cross-examined by H.D. Reynolds. I did not see you and your wife get out of a cab—this was in Mr. Hill's gateway, six or seven yards from my house—the gate was not open—it was very dark when my shop was shut up—I did not know that you lived four doors from me—I did not press against your wife, nor did you say, "What did you do that for?"—when I was trying to get away from you we both went down together—it would want a tug to break the chain; it was found in the road—I missed it before you ran away—I had had a glass of ale—I believe you were on top of me in the road—I saw your back at the Police-court; you were smothered in mud—I do not remember fighting; I was trying to get away from you, and we fell together—I did not say, "Shake hands, I have done;" you did not stop for that, you both ran away, and I was so knocked about that I was glad to get indoors—I did not go to a doctor; there was not one at the Police-station—when you came back with the constable you said, "Do you accuse me of attempting to steal your chain?" and I said, "Yes"—you said that you had got a silver watch of your own—you punched me with a ring which was on your little finger.
Cross-examined by Susan Reynolds. I never saw a cab there—you did not say," Who are you pushing against?" nor did I say, "You, if you like"; I did not say I am ready for you—my wife came over to my assistance, but she did not get you by the hair; you got her by her hair and got her down, and would not let her get up—I did not say to her, "Go on, Beat, hit her under."
By the COURT. My chain was fastened through the buttonhole, but I
took the watch off as I came along Gray's Inn Road—the male prisoner struck the first blow.
BEATRICE NALDER . I am the wife of the last witness—on November 14th, about one a.m., I was sitting in the shop and heard him say, "They are after my chain"—I went out, and he had been knocked down—the female prisoner knocked me down, and pulled me by my hair, and bit all my fingers, and I had a shocking bad eye—I did not speak to her when I went out.
Cross-examined by H. Reynolds. I did not separate you and my husband; I went to pick him up—I did not see you and my husband wrestling on the ground, because I was engaged with her—she jumped on me when I was down; when you kicked my husband she got hold of my hair and pulled me down—I was sober, I am a teetotaler—I did not see my husband shake hands with you.
Cross-examined by Susan Reynolds, My husband did not say, "Go on, pay her, Beat"—I did not take off one of my boots to strike you with it—I had my husband's slippers on—I did not take off whatever I had on and say, "I will tear you up."
THOMAS DUNKLEY . I am a cab-driver, of Storey Street, Islington—on November 14th, a little after one o'clock, I was coming over Battle Bridge and heard a female screaming—I jumped off my cab, went round a corner, and saw the female prisoner holding the prosecutrix by her hair, and dragging her along the ground and thumping her—I also saw the male prisoner punching the prosecutor, and after that they both set on the man, punching him—I told the female prisoner I thought she had done quite enough for the prosecutrix, and told the male prisoner he had done enough for the prosecutor—I took my horse out of the cab and came round again, and the prosecutor said he had lost his chain—I went up Caledonian Road and saw the two prisoners, and told a sergeant, who took them in custody; that was half a mile from where it took place, and quarter of an hour afterwards—I had no fare, I was going to put my horse up.
Cross-examined by H. Reynolds. You and the prosecutor were not fighting when I saw you; but you were knocking him about right and left—I had not got a big stick; I never carry one—you told me you had got two or three watches and chains, and I said I had got none—you walked by the prisoner's side; he had not hold of you.
Cross-examined by Susan Reynolds. I was not there at the first; I did not see your husband on the ground—I saw mud on his back; that is why I knew him in Caledonian Road.
SARAH JACKSON LAYERS . I am single, and live on my property a Wharf dale Road, Islington—early in the morning of November 14th I heard screams of murder and police, in a female voice, and went across the road and saw the female prisoner dragging the prosecutrix on the ground by her hair—the male prisoner was kicking the prosecutor on the ground—there were three men, but the other two ran away—the female prisoner was kicking the other woman, who put her hands up to protect her eyes, and she bit her fingers, and she said, "Help me, they have stolen my husband's chain"—the cabman came up, and I asked him to go for a policeman, as I had left my front door open—when the prosecutor went into his house the prisoner ran away.
Cross-examined by H. Reynolds. I said at the Police-court, "At first I
thought it was a family quarrel, and I did not interfere"—there are six public-houses in Wharfdale Road—the female prisoner is not your wife; Mrs. White ought to be here—the prosecutor had not the chance to fight; you got him on the ground—I could not interfere, being a female—I saw no fighting, but I saw you kicking; it is not the first time you have been where you are—I was there five or six minutes before I interfered, and then the female asked me for help—I did not see the prosecutor shake hands with you; you did not give him a chance, you ran too fast; the cabman had to take a Hansom to bring you back—I did not see the prosecutor pulling you off the ground—she was pulled along the ground five or six yards by the female prisoner, with two hands, and her hair round each wrist, and then she used her teeth—the prosecutor was bleeding from his mouth, and was smothered in blood, and the woman's dress was torn.
Cross-examined by Susan Reynolds, I was not there at the commencement—neither of you were on the ground.
HARRY ENGLISH (138 G). I was on duty—the last witness spoke to me, and I took the male prisoner, and charged him with snatching the prosecutor's chain and assaulting him—he made no reply, but on the way to the station he said that the prosecutor pushed up against his wife, and insulted her, and that led to a free fight—the prosecutor was intoxicated; his wife was quite sober.
Cross-examined by H. Reynolds. The prosecutor gave you in charge for attempting to steal a chain, but at the station the Inspector said, "You can only five him in charge for assault"—you had on you £3 10s. in gold, 6s. in silver, a silver watch and chain, and two gold rings—your back was smothered in mud—you said, "The prosecutor knocked up against my wife, and it has come to a fight."
Re-examined. The prosecutor's face was bruised, and he was bleeding from the mouth, which he said was from the violence.
JOSEPH HILL (468 G). I took the female prisoner, and told her she would be charged with assaulting a woman—on the way to the station she said, "The woman shoved me about, and I took her in self-defence"—there was no mud on her dress.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Policeman). After the prisoners were taken to the station I went to the road where this is said to have taken place, and picked up this silver watch-chain (produced) in two pieces, which the prosecutor identified.
Cross-examined by H. Reynolds. A cabman came up to me—there is a coffee-stall some distance up the road—I met you close to Caledonian Road Bridge, and said, "Have you been in Wharfdale Road, and did you have a quarrel with anybody?"—you said, "Yes, a man knocked up against my wife; I asked him what he meant by that, and we had a fight"—you also said, "I have got a watch and chain of my own"—it is a hundred yards from Caledonian Road to Wharfdale Road—I did not take you in custody; I walked with you to the prosecutor's house, and you said, "Do you accuse me of taking your chain?"—we then went to the station, and English took you in custody—I said, "You will be charged with assault"; not for attempting to steal his chain—he was drunk—your back was smothered in mud.
Henry Reynolds' defence. Is it possible that I should attempt to steal such a paltry bit of chain, and stop so long fighting with him, and go to
Caledonian Road and have a cup of coffee with my wife, and come back to the same spot a quarter of an hour afterwards with £3 10s. in my pocket and a watch and two gold rings? My wife has done nothing more than any woman would do in self-defence, when she saw her husband being pitched into.
H.D. REYNOLDS— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of burglary at this Court on September 16th, 1889, in the name of Henry David Scott.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. SUSAN REYNOLDS— GUILTY on the Second Count. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. C.F. GILL, A. GILL and MR. ROWLAND HILL Prosecuted, and MR. THORNE COLE and MR. SANDS Defended.
GEORGE COUCHMAN (Detective Sergeant Y). On November 23rd I saw the prisoner in York Road, and said, "Good morning, Mr. Rymill"—he said, "Good morning"—I was in plain clothes—I said, "Is your office over on the other side, No. 222?" he said, "Yes"—I said, "Well, I am a sergeant of police, and have got a warrant for your arrest; I shall have to convey you to Upper Holloway Police-station"; I read the warrant to him as we went along, it was for obtaining 18s. by false pretences, with intent to defraud—he said, "Why do not you leave it till to-morrow? I will meet you anywhere; I am well known to all the police at the Caledonian Road station for years"—I took him to Upper Holloway Police-station, where he was charged—while I was searching him a gentleman came in and the prisoner said to him, "Remember, I am Jones, not Rymill"—he said nothing to the charge.
Cross-examined. York Road is commonly called Maiden Lane, that is the road from King's Cross to the Cattle Market—the large coal depots of the London and North-Western Railway are on the left—the prisoner was brought before Mr. Corser the next morning, and admitted: to bail—"Rymill and Co.," in black letters on a white ground, is over No. 202—my station is at Upper Holloway; we have no official connection with the Caledonian station.
RACHEL JONES . I am the wife of John Jones, a tobacconist and newsagent, of 252, York Road—I have known the prisoner about fifteen years, first as Jones and then as Rymill—I did not know his Christian name—about four or five years ago he made an arrangement for letters to be received at our place in the name of Rymill, which we have done down to six or seven weeks ago—sometimes twenty letters came in a day, and sometimes not so many—he sometimes came for them three times a day—I know that they referred to coal—no other Jones came for letters, and I did not see anyone as Rymill—I am no relation of his—he paid me 3s. 6d. a week for receiving the letters—I never saw any of Rymill's vans.
Cross-examined. A great many other people have sold coal in the vicinity for many years—it is a common custom for coal merchants to have addresses, just as the prisoner did with me; tens of thousands of tons of coal are sold in that way under the knowledge of the railway company—that was his business place for four years.
Re-examined. I thought his yard was on the wharf on the other side—I never went there—we did not buy coal of him.
THOMAS KIRBY (Policeman). I am caretaker at 54, Brook Street Bond Street—I saw an advertisement in September in the People of the, New Main Wallsend coal, the talk of London"—I took steps to get some, and on October 6th a ton was delivered at my house—this is the delivery note, and the receipt for 18s. is in the name of Rymill and Co.—I tried to burn the coal, but it broke into pieces and blew the fire out on the hearth; it was impossible to burn it—this is a fair sample of it (produced); some has been in the fire and some not—about half of it was taken away by the dustman at my request.
Cross-examined. I have got some of the coal here unburnt, and this is a piece which has been burnt—it is over two months since I purchased it, but I have made no complaint to Rymill and Co, about them, nor to my superior officer at the Police-station—I have had other coal in since from Inmans; I got it in the early part of this month—I gave 18s. a ton for it—when this specimen was taken, a little more than half a ton was left, which was put into a dustbin in the coal cellar and removed by the dustman—I do not find fault with the weight at all—I was there when it was delivered, and Madam Argentens paid for it, and I did not look at it till it was in the cellar.
Re-examined. I put the coal into the dustbin—the people upstairs told me to get rid of it.
MARTHA BANKS . I am a widow, of 58, Fort Road, Grange Road, Bermondsey—on 18th October, I saw an advertisement in the People; similar to this—my son answered it, and ordered a ton of coal, which I received on the 20th, a few pounds overweight—the carman gave me this paper, which was signed—I paid 18s. 6d. to the carman—I tried to burn the coals; they lit, and then went out; they only burned for about five minutes; just flared up and then went out; we put more on, and lit them again—the sulphur was dreadful, and I think they are bricks, tiles, and all sorts of rubbish—they only make a fire for about five minutes—I tried to cook with them, and could not cook a good dinner on Sunday, but in the week I could, with very great patience, by keeping on lighting it, and putting fresh on, and stirring it up—these are some of them; I have made a fowls' run with the rest; these have been through the fire—a few days after I received them I took a sample up to Messrs. Rymill and Co., in the King's Cross Road, and left them with an old gentleman—I went to a small office in the large yard, and then to a smaller place—I got the address from the People; it was not the same number as that on the delivery bill—I never heard anything from them—I wrote two letters, as well as taking the sample, but got no answer—I" showed the stuff in my coal-cellar to a gentleman who called last Saturday evening.
Cross-examined. All of this but one piece has passed through the fire—I said at the Police-court that I had half a ton left—I had been burning them in the way I have described up to that time—I have not got that half ton still—I had overweight.
AMELIA MARSH . I am the wife of Robert Marsh, a painter, of 47, Golddigging Street—on 18th October I saw this advertisement in Lloyd's Newspaper. (This was in similar terms to that in the previous eases)—I spoke to my husband, and my nephew wrote to the address, and on 22nd
October half a ton of coal was delivered, with this delivery note—I tried to burn the coal, it would not keep alight; I put wood in all day long, between and on top—it cracked and flew about the room directly it got hot; one piece hit me on the arm; I could not get it to burn, and what fire I got was with the wood—this is a sample of it, some that has been treated with the wood and some that has not been burnt; I have two boxes full of the slates that I have taken from the fire—I have got coals off the trolleys that went by at 1s. 3d. a hundredweight ever since, and I tried to burn these coals from Rymill with them when I had a good fire, but I had to keep raking the smoulders away; the top part, Rymill's coals, smouldered to white ash, and left these pieces of slate, the same as I have in the boxes—we have a lot of Rymill's coals left in the cellar now; I gave up trying to burn them, and burnt the coal from the trolleys—I showed the coals in my cellar to a gentlemen who called last night.
Cross-examined. I am paying 1s. 3d. a hundredweight for coal from the trolleys; that is at the rate of 25s. a ton—I have a good lot of Rymill's coal left in the cellar.
HARRIET ELIZABETH REYNOLDS . I am the wife of John Reynolds, compositor, of 87, Chatham Street, Walworth—I saw an advertisement like this about coals in Lloyd's Newspaper for several weeks—my husband wrote to the address on Monday morning, 16th November, and about 5.10 on the same evening I saw the coals delivered; this delivery note was given to me—I paid 18s., and gave the carman fourpence—I thought I had got coal, but I found I had got rubbish—I tried from Monday till Thursday to burn it—my husband had to have two bundles of wood to boil water for his breakfast; the coals would light up, glimmer round, and then go out—I shovelled up these samples from the fireplace; three of the pieces have been in the fire, and there is this dust—all the coal is similar to this; I have got it nearly all in the cellar; some is a little better than the rest—I went to 252, York Road, King's Cross, to try and find the prisoner, and I saw a young lady, whe said he did not live there; he only came there to receive letters; I did not see the prisoner—it was a private window, with "Rymill and Co." on the blind—I made inquiries, but could not find Rymill; I did not go to any other address—I have been buying coal of Mr. Garner since—I have a close range, with which I had had no difficulty before; it will burn almost anything, but it will not burn these coals.
Cross-examined. I have only brought one piece that has not passed through the fire—I have nearly 18 cwt. left; I threw two or three pailfuls away the first three days; I tried to burn it—the coals I bought from Garner were from a trolley—I pay Is, 3d. a cwt. for them.
CATHERINE PENNY . I am the wife of Henry Penny, a commercial traveller, of 22, Petherton Road, Finsbury Park—on 14th November I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph giving an address at 202, York Road, King's Cross. (This advertisement was in the same terms as before)—my husband wrote to that address, and on 16th November I was present when a ton of something was delivered—this bill was presented, and I paid 18s.—I thought I was getting good coal, the same as was advertised—I tried to light it the same day in the dining-room; it burns for a little while and then goes quite dead, and leaves these lumps of slate—next day I tried it in the kitchen, but it was worse, if anything,
than before—then I tried it in the dining-room again in the evening, and we had to go to bed early because we could get no fire, and it was so cold—on Wednesday we had no fire, and I got some in from the greengrocer's, and afterwards from the Darfield Main—I used a gas-stove for cooking—these are samples of Rymill's coal; it is in my cellar still; I have not touched it since—last Saturday two men connected with Rymill, I believe, came and looked at the coal—my husband wrote to Mr. Rymill on the Tuesday night, and on the Thursday I went to King's Cross and walked up York Road to find him; I was going to 252, the number on my bill, but I saw "Rymill" on the window of 202, and knocked at the door, but no one opened it—I went to 252 and found it was a sweetstuff shop, and I did not find him—on Friday, 20th, I went to the Police-court and a warrant was granted—after that we received this letter, dated 23rd November. (This apologised for not previously replying; regretted that the wrong coal should have been delivered, owing to the loaders error, and expressed willingness to take it back, refund the amount paid, and allow any reasonable compensation for expenses that might have been caused. It was signed, "Rymill and Co.")
Cross-examined. The coal were brought to me about 10.30 a.m. in ten sacks; it was the first purchase I had made from Rymill and Co.—I counted the sacks, but I did not look at the coals; they were put in the cellar—at 4.30 I lighted the dining-room fire with them—I have all of the coals left now but about three pailfuls—we took these pieces from the top of the front of the coal, we did not move it; I did not tell him which pieces to pick out—I do not know that that is a piece of sigillaria; there is a great deal of it in the ton—this piece has been passed through the fire—I said at the Police-court I could not find Rymill; I did not, to my knowledge, tell them there that I saw the name "Rymill and Co. order office"—I swore an information—the prisoner may have carried on business for a great many years as a coal merchant—I took the Magistrate's advice and got a warrant—the prisoner was arrested that afternoon, and next day the Magistrate admitted him to bail after he heard the case—when the two gentlemen came to my house they saw nearly the whole of the ton—they asked for specimens; I refused to let them have any, because I was not told to do so—I did not know they had got specimens from other people; if I had known that they should have had some from me—I have no reason to doubt that I had the proper and true weight—I said at the Police-court that the best coal might be at 27s. a ton; I do not know the price—I expected to get good Wallsend coals for 18s., as advertised—I said at the Police-court that I expected to get the best coal for 18s.—I did not try to bum these coals with any others—I said at the Police-court they must be burnt by themselves—I have been paying at the rate of 22s. a ton for the coals, which I have been buying by the cwt., ever since.
Re-examined. I had been burning a very good coal at 19s.—I never told the Magistrate there was no such person as Mr. Rymill; I said I could not find him—I did not think the persons who called ought to take the coal away, as we heard in Court they were to be allowed to look at the coal, but not to take it away—they said they came from the defendant—this is a fair sample, there is plenty of it there.
Petherton Road, Upper Holloway—we tried to burn the stuff we received from Rymill, but we could not do it; it was not of the slightest use for the purpose of making a fire—I wrote to Mr. Rymill, but got no answer till the evening of the day the prisoner was arrested, after his arrest—I was present when these samples were collected—we merely took them out as they were to produce a fair sample, and this is a very fair sample I should say.
JOHN MARYON . I keep the Red Lion public-house, Eldon Street, Finsbury—on 14th November I saw this advertisement in the Daily Telegraph—I answered it on the Friday or Saturday, and a ton of coal was delivered on Monday, 16th November, I think; this delivery note was given to me—I paid 18s.—I tried to burn the coal more than once, but it was impossible; it was continually going out—this is a sample of it taken from a scuttle which the barman brought from the cellar—for about eighteen months before we had been burning a gas stove and had had no coal in—these two pieces have been burnt—I have very little of it left; my house has been under alterations for the last two months, and we have had a quantity of wood, and we have burnt this coal as well as we could with the wood and small quantities of coal which I have had fn by the hundredweight—a week or ten days ago two gentlemen came; I was not at home, and they were not admitted, and a day or two ago they came again, and asked me if I had any objection to their taking samples; I said no—they took a lump with them—I did not see the samples they selected.
Cross-examined. I could not say when I was examined at the Policecourt on 1st December how much I had in the cellar—I have some dust left, very little—I have burnt it as I have described—it was Haywood and Toms who came on Saturday and took the sample—they pointed to a fire and asked if they were the coals; some portion of it was—I did not say, "They burn very well when mixed"—I said, "There is some portion of it coal," and within half-an-hour all of it went out—the very best coals would now be about 27s. a ton possibly, and 18s. or 19s. for kitchen coals.
Re-examined. With the assistance of wood and other coal you could keep this coal alight, with a person continually at it raking it and getting out these coals and applying some more—I did not institute this prosecution, but I made a complaint.
EDWARD PRICE . I am superintendent of the supply of coal to all Government offices; I come from H. M. Office of Works—I have had thirty years' experience in reference to coal—I have examined the samples in this case—of this sample, TK 3, this piece is coal; all the rest is impure matter which is found in coal; this consists of shaly seams, and is commonly called slate; and these contain stones and pyrites; they are found in a very large number of coals, but they vary in proportion; some coals have very little, others have much—the shale is slightly combustible; you can extract bitumen and paraffin from it; it is not coal—of MB 2 this piece has been through the fire—there is a small piece of coal here, but that is veined with impure matter; all this is shale and slate—it is not possible to make a fire of this in an ordinary grate; you could ignite the pieces of coal if you had sufficient wood, but you could not maintain a fire—AM 3 is all shale, there is no coal in it; this is a piece of stony
metallic matter, which would explode under heat and fly about the room; it is dangerous—D is shale; there is no coal in it—in E there is coal mixed with some impurities, shale and stone; it would burn, but it is inferior coal—this is a piece of coal, the other lumps are not what is known in the trade as coal—there is some coal in C; it would burn, but not very readily; it is a mixture of coal and impure reins which run through it—an ordinary house fire could not be sustained with this—in JM 2 there is no coal, only slate and stone; but there is a very thin layer of coal on one piece—I went to Mr. Maryon's house yesterday; they showed me the coal in the cellar; very little was left, some dust—I could not form an opinion—I went to Mr. Penny's, where I was shown the coal in the cellar; there was coal, but it contained an excessive quantity of impure matter; in fact, I have never seen such impure coal; and I can understand that it would be quite impossible to maintain a fire in an ordinary grate, though there are some pieces of coal that would burn—no doubt you could light a fire; it would be like burning an inferior coal—I think these pieces represent most fairly the defects—the shale in this sample is rather in excess of what it was in Mrs. Penny's cellar—what I saw in the cellar is what is understood in the trade as coal; it all comes out of a coal mine—apparently it is sold as coal, but I have never seen any so bad before—I cannot say that this coal is sold in the trade, because I have never seen it—there is no evidence that it is sold generally in the trade; I don't know of it—it could not be used for burning in private houses—I suppose you could not buy the best Wallsend for less than 25s. now—it might be as low as 25s. in the summer—a coal at 18s. is fit for the purposes for which it is sold—I also went to Mrs. Marsh's, and was shown two or three hundredweight; the residue was very little besides refuse, shale and stone—on the top of a coal seam there would he veins of shaly matter with coal running through it—it is very inferior coal, because it contains so much impure matter—through coal itself there are veins of impure matter, and it is the custom to throw out this impure matter and separate it; in this case it has not been separated, and it is largely in excess and becomes useless for household purposes—a man having been many years in the coal trade would know what this was, and that it is useless for the purpose of making a fire; it is the custom to throw it out.
Cross-examined. Coal frequently extends over fifty or sixty feet, interstratified with sandstone and shale—it would cost between 7s. and 8s. 6d. per ton to bring coals up to the North-Western wharves from the coal districts—I did think you could not get any coal at the pit's mouth under 4s. a ton—it costs about 2s. 6d. to 3s. to take a ton of coal from the wharf to a private house—this lump of sigillaria is not a specimen of all the ton of coals Mrs. Penny got; I consider she has made a selection of what she calls the defect in the coal.
Re-examined. When I spoke of 4s. a ton at the pit's mouth, I meant for coal—I don't suggest that 4s. was paid for these at the pit's mouth—people are allowed to cart this away if they will take it; it is of no use for household purposes, but it is of use in ironworks for smelting—in the condition in which this is it would not be worth more than 2s. a ton at the pit's mouth.
MR. THORNE COLE and MR. SANDS submitted that there was no case to go to the Jury. The prisoner was charged with obtaining money by the false pretences
that he had delivered good merchantable and combustible coal; and as the various witnesses had received a marketable commodity, all that he had been guilty of was exaggeration of its value, which was not a false pretence. R. v. Lee (8 Cox, C.C., 233); R. v. Lee (L. & C. 418); R. v. Pratt (8 Cox, C.C., 334); Q. v. Roebuck (Dearsley and Bell, 24); Reg. v. Bryan (Dearsley and Bell, 265).
MR. A. GILL contended that the false pretences laid in the indictment being that the defendant had delivered a ton of good coal, whereas according to the evidence he had delivered a mixture composed of mineral substances other than coal, but containing a small proportion of real coal, it was for the Jury to say whether the alleged false pretences were made out. R. v. Foster (L. R., 2 Q.B.D., 301); R. v. Suter (10 Cox, C.C., 577); R. v. Kerrigan (L. and C., 383). A false representation respecting an alleged matter of definite fact, knowingly made, though with regard to quality, was sufficient to constitute a false pretence within the statute.
The COMMON SERJEANT, having consulted with the RECORDER, ruled that the case must go to the Jury.
Witnesses for the Defence.
CLIFFORD HAYWARD . I live at 34, Erdley Road, Camberwell, and am a coal merchant—friends of the prisoner have called on me to examine, as a coal merchant, certain coals supplied by the prisoner, who is unknown to me—on Saturday last I called on Mrs. Penny, at 1.40, and told her I called to see the coal; she told me it was inconvenient, and did not allow me to see it—I returned in about half-hour and saw the coal; there was about 18 cwt. in the cellar; I asked Mrs. Penny to let me take a sample; she consulted her husband, and they declined—I should say it would be a fair coal to deliver at 18s. a ton, taking the Working expenses into account, and so on—I know the coal trade in London well—the cheapest coal at the pit's mouth would be 3s. or 4s.; the railway rate would be 7s. to 8s.; the railway wagon would be 9d., the loading 8d., and the cartage to any place in London 2s. 6d. to 3s.—office expenses and advertising would be reasonable at about 1s. 1d. a ton—I should say the prisoner could make 1s. 5d. to 1s. 8d. a ton, a very slow fortune-making business—the expense of bringing coal from the collieries is according to mileage and weight—Wallsend coal has been extinct for years, and it has become a trade term now—there is no colliery called Wallsend; New "Wallsend does not mean anything; it is a trade term—Mrs. Penny refused to allow me to take any coals—I went with Mr. Toms, a coaldealer, to the Red Lion about 3.30 or 3.45—we saw two or three hundredweight of the coal left in the cellar; it was very small, and we took away this sample—the word Wallsend conveys the meaning that it is the best coal; it is used by all coal merchants—I got this piece from Mr. Maryon's cellar; there was about one sack and a half at the bottom, and we raked this up; he made no difficulty, but was very courteous—I pointed to a fire, and asked whether those were the same coals burning there, and he said yes; that they burnt very well when mixed—I should say the coal we saw at Mr. Maryon's would be a very good coal to deliver at 18s. a ton, taking working expenses into account—the same day I called at Mrs. Banks' about four o'clock, and saw the four or five hundredweight she had left, and took a sample; it was very fair coal for the price—the quoted price for the very best coals in the
market is now 26s. per ton—afterwards I went to Mrs. Reynolds, of 87, Chatham Street, and examined the coals, and took a sample; they would be a fairly good coal to deliver at 18s. a ton; I did not pick out this sample; most of the coal had been burnt—this coal produced by Mr. Kirby is very good coal at the price; I should call it tolerably good; it would burn—the coal in all these samples is merchantable and combustible—it would burn—I went to another place, where there was no coal left—I went to Mrs. Marsh, who had about 50lb. left—I took a sample; it is very good coal to burn; its appearance is against it; it is coal, not slate; it would bum on a fire, and would be fair coal to deliver at 18s., taking working expenses into account—these samples have not been out of my possession.
H.E. REYNOLDS (Re-examined by MR. GILL). The gentleman with Mr. Hayward took a piece of coal—not this piece, but a thick piece—Mr. Hay ward did not take any; only one piece was taken, and it was not this.
By MR. COLE. I never had the piece in my hand, but I saw it—the other gentleman handed it to Mr. Hayward, and said it was a fair sample, and I gave him a piece of paper to put it in—it was between four and five o'clock; I took the lamp to the cellar.
CLIFFORD HAYWARD (Re-examined). This is the piece of coal Mr. Toms took from the cellar and handed to me—I have had it in my custody ever since, I swear—it was taken from the paper I brought from the house—I did not see Mrs. Marsh, but her son or husband.
AMELIA MARSH (Re-examined by MR. GILL). I was not there when the samples were taken—I don't think this piece came from my cellar; the slatey pieces in my cellar are all large and thin—my husband is not here.
EDWARD PRICE (Cross-examined by MR. GILL). This is not a fair sample of the coal I saw at Mrs. Marsh's; it is a favourable sample, a selection—I saw no coal to judge of at Mr. Maryon's, and cannot say if this is a fair sample of his; this is coal—I saw no piece so large as this there—I did not see Mrs. Banks's cellar.
MARTHA BANKS (Re-examined by MR. GILL). Mr. Hayward did not take the coal, another gentleman did; he picked up one bit and said that was too heavy, and then took up another—I could not positively say if this was the piece; I do not think it was so large, because it was a small piece—I only saw one piece taken.
CLIFFORD HAYWARD (Cross-examined). We took one piece each from Mrs. Banks's—I carry on business at my office in a private house at Camberwell Station—I have no wharf—I most decidedly say that what I saw in the cellars of the different people I called on will burn alone in the ordinary way as a good medium coal; I don't say it is the best coal—I have not seen it burn, but I have seen similar coal burn—I have not heard the evidence in the case—I should say if you tried it it would burn; I cannot say for how long—I should say it was a very fair ordinary burning coal; there would De no occasion to look after it all day, or to cook with a gas-stove because the coal was so inferior—"Wallsend" is used as a trade term for the best coal—I should
not call these the best burning coals the world produces—these would probably fetch 3s. 6d. a ton at the pit's mouth—I do not agree with Mr. Price that the major portion of what the witnesses had was composed of material other than coal—I don't think coal should burn like these pieces of Mrs. Banks's, but even in the best of coal you get slate like this—this, which has not been through the fire, is coal, but it is not a very favourable sample; it would burn, and might come out like this other piece; there might be a mixture of dross with it—I see no reason why this coal should not burn in the ordinary way—I don't know if the County Council know my address, I have never been troubled by them; I am not supposed to give them my address.
Re-examined. You get a little ash left from very best coal—this is the coal taken from the different persons; it has been in my charge—if it is insinuated that this is some other coal it is a wicked insinuation; I am here independently, with no prejudice or favour one side or the other.
FREDERICK TOMS . I have been in business as a coal merchant for twelve years, and live at 28, Dartmouth Park Hill, N. W.—I know the prisoner in business, but I am not a friend of his—I went on Saturday with Mr. Hayward to Mrs. Penny's, and saw the coal; a sample was refused; I should say it was a fair coal for 18s. a ton—I saw about three and a half hundredweight of dust and pieces of coal is Mr. Maryon's cellar—I picked up two pieces, which I gave to Mr. Hayward; they were a fair sample at 18s.—there was a good fire of coal burning there—at all the places I went to with Mr. Hayward I took up a piece of coal as it came, not picking out the best, and gave it to him—at Mr. Kirby's there was no coal—at Marsh's, Banks's, and Reynolds's I saw good coal for the money.
Cross-examined. At some places I took two lumps—I know the prisoner in business, but I am not constantly in his company at wharves—I never did any business with him—I do not know that he has been convicted of selling short weight, or that he has had actions brought against him as to coal—I nave known him about fifteen years under the name of Rymill; I have not known him by the name of pickets and Co.—he had an office at 202, York Road, for about a month—I believe before that he had letters addressed to 252, York Road, a tobacconist's—I do not know B. Smith and Co.; I have heard there were many complaints of his selling coals of this description.
Re-examined. It is the custom for small coal dealers to have goods consigned to them to a railway wharf, and cart it from there to the customers; it is not necessary for a coal merchant to have a wharf of his own—sometimes large coal merchants carry on business in that way; they are bound to have coal consigned to them and carted away.
Witnesses having been called to speak to the prisoner's good character, MR. A. GILL proposed to call rebutting evidence of general bad character. (R. v. Rowton, L. and C. 520). MR. THORNE COLE objected, and contended that general evidence of bad character could not be given to rebut evidence of good character. THE COMMON SERJEANT, after consulting THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, ruled that the evidence was admissible, but observed that neither in the experience of Lord Cockburn (R. v. Rowton) nor in that of the present Lord Chief Justice, nor in his own, had such evidence been given. This evidence was not given; but MR. GILL called
JAMES FONTAIN BAILEY . I am a coal officer of the London County Council—I was present at Lambeth Police-court early in last year when the prisoner was charged with short weight, and a penalty of £5 was inflicted on him.
Cross-examined. I don't know how much the weight was short.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Six Week' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1891.
Before Lord Chief Justice Coleridge.
MESSRS. FORREST FULTON and BODKIN Prosecuted.
MARY ANN SMITH . I am the wife of Thomas Smith, of 21, Hampshire Street—the prisoner came to lodge with me in December last year—she told me she was married—a man named Edwards used to come to visit her; he did not lire there altogether—she had one child when she came, about sixteen or seventeen months old—after she had been with me three months she was confined of a second child, a female—I saw it after it was born—I washed and dressed it when it was born; it was a strong child—the prisoner suckled it, and took care of it properly until about the middle of April—after that it was fed by bottle with condensed milk—after the middle of April it became ill—on one occasion I and the prisoner took the child to Dr. Mayberry, and he told us that it was fast sinking away into eternity—I asked the doctor if it was in a consumption—he said, "No"—I think that was either in June or July—a bottle of medicine was supplied to her—she took that, but did not get any more—the child seemed a little better afterwards—it was constantly fretting and crying, and seemed to get worse—I told her more than once it was getting awfully thin—she said, "Mind your own business; it is nothing to you"—the prisoner did nothing for her Jiving while she was with me—she put some flowers on a dozen tobacco pouches—she did not stop at home all day—she would stop out frequently for hours at a time, leaving the children in the room—on one occasion she went out about eleven in the morning, and returned between four or five, without anyone to attend to the child—on another occasion she went out at seven in the evening, and returned at a quarter-past three in the morning; no one was attending to the child then—while the mother was away the child was frequently crying—I frequently went up to the room, and so did another lodger—I never found the bottle dirty, but nearly always empty—the child was left in a very dirty state; its lower part was all raw, and there was vermin about it—I spoke to the prisoner about it, and said she thought it was the thrush—on one occasion I saw the prisoner cross with the child, and she slapped its face and said, "If you cause me much more bother I shall throw you into the waterbutt"—on 22nd September the Relieving Officer, Mr. Wheatley, called—the prisoner went out that morning about eleven—she had not returned when Mr. Wheatley came—I took him in to see the child, and he gave me some money to buy some milk with; I did so; I gave some to the child, and I gave the prisoner the remainder when she came in—two days afterwards, on the 24th, Mr. Wheatley came again—the prisoner was
not at home then, Mr. Wheatley left a note for her; I gave it her when she came in, and she crumpled it up and threw it in my face—after she had been in a few minutes two men came in, they stayed a little time; she said one was her brother, and the other a friend of her father's—after they had gone she put on her things and went out, leaving the child by itself—I went up to see to it, and I gave it some more broth, and I brought it downstairs and showed it to my husband—I took it to the workhouse at nine that evening—the prisoner paid me 2s. 6d. a week for her room.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The doctor did not tell you in my presence that the child was in a consumption—I spoke to you about the child lots of times—you have never left the child at my request while I sent you to the pawnbrokers, you did not find vermin on my child—I might have told your father that you were always getting drunk—your father told me he never wished to see you more—I did not know that Edwards was a married man till about a week before he left me, when his wife came to me with three children and told me—he left me without money for three weeks.
HENRY WARD . I live at 57, Cross Street, Islington, and am an agent of the Liverpool Victoria Legal Friendly Society; the prisoner is my daughter—in April last she spoke to me about insuring her baby, Agnes Mary Edwards, in my society, and on 30th May I effected an insurance on its life for thirty shillings, payable by a penny a week for three months, two pounds for six months, and so on up to five pounds for ten years—I cant say that I told my daughter I had insured it, she knew it of course (she did not pay me the penny a week, I paid it)—I think her mother told her about it; I don't know it of my own knowledge—I don't think she knew anything about it herself; after a time she did, not at the time it was done, perhaps a week or two afterwards—she asked me in April, and I effected the insurance in May.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Smith told me on the Monday that the baby was better; she took me up to see it, and I thought it looked a little better—I only saw its clothes on the outside—the house you lived in was in a very dirty state; in fact, it is condemned now; it is not a fit place for any child to live in—you had not money to keep the child with—my wife died last June, and since then I have not seen much of you.
PERCY CRAMPTON . I am cashier in the Finsbury branch of the Liverpool Victoria Legal Friendly Society—this document is not what we call a proposal form, it is simply a requisition-sheet—it was presented to me by the last witness, and in the ordinary course an insurance was effected, and a policy issued in due course—this paper has on it other names besides that of Agnes Mary Edwards; it refers to policies issued in that week.
WILLIAM WHEATLEY . I live at 77, Patshull Road, Kentish Town; I am Relieving Officer for that district of St. Pancras—on 22nd September my attention was called to this child by Mrs. Smith—I went to the room occupied by the prisoner at noon that day; I there found a child about two years old, and the child in question; it was lying partly naked at the toot of the bed, near the window, which was open—there was no food near it—the child was very dirty and very emaciated—I requested Mrs. Smith to tell the prisoner something, and on the 24th I called again; between the 22nd and 24th the prisoner came to my office—I offered
her an order in the workhouse for herself and her two children, which she declined, stating that Mr. Edwards would not allow her to go in—I then insisted on her seeing a doctor, and I gave her an order, and she saw the doctor the following morning, and he told her to see me so that she might be admitted—she did not see me that day, and on the 24th I went to the house and saw the child alone—it was just in the same position and in the same condition, the window being open—on that occasion I gave Mrs. Smith some money to buy milk—I went to the house again about eight in the evening; I found the child alone again, in the same place; the window was then shut—the prisoner was not there—on that evening I accompanied Mrs. Smith to the workhouse with the child.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Smith did not tell me that you had beaten your eldest child and threatened to throw it into the cistern—it was the baby—that was when you came home on the 24th, at five o'clock in the afternoon, after I had been there; the child was not properly dressed when I called the second time—when you brought it to me it was properly dressed.
EMILY BENNETT . I am the wife of George Bennett, a carman, and lodge at 21, Hampshire Street, where the prisoner lived—I went there about May this year, and was there four months—I saw a good deal of the prisoner's baby; it was very weak through lying a good deal in the bassinet or box at the foot of the bed; it used to make the mother too dirty to have it in bed; it was very thin—the prisoner had to leave it when she went out—she would go out early in the morning, and would hot be home till the evening—I used to pop in and look at the baby now and then on my own account—it used to cry dreadfully, it never seemed satisfied with all the food that was given—I used to give it food, and I have seen the mother do the same—have told her several times about the baby crying so, and she has said it would have to cry, she could not keep taking it up—I have seen it undressed, and have seen the mother wash it—it was rather sore—the prisoner said it was from the thrush—I did not see any vermin on the body; once I saw maggots, through lying in the wet—the mother used to put Fuller's earth on it, but it did not seem to do it any good.
Cross-examined. You always told me that when you left your baby you left someone to look after it—you asked me to let one of my children go to if, after you and Mrs. Smith had had a quarrel—I have seen you fill the bottle many times and feed it—you sent for fourpennyworth of milk for it every day—I have seen you give it blood of beef and brandy and egg—I went with you once to Dr. May berry; I did not hear what passed—you have spoken to me about leaving your baby to go to the pawnbroker's for Mrs. Smith—on the Saturday before the baby was taken away Edwards left her without any money, and you borrowed 1s., which Mrs. Smith made you give to her—I did all I could for you; I have seven children of my own—the day Mrs. Edwards called Mrs. Smith told me she had fetched her—Mrs. Smith told me that she had had a child by another man—you have always done the best for your children; you were continually out with Mrs. Smith—you have on many occasions lent Mrs. Smith money—you were very kind to the elder child.
arrest—I went to her room—I had to wait between three and four hours before I saw her—I read the warrant to her—she said, "I was never cruel to my child; I did the best I could with the money"—this was before the child was dead, while it was in the workhouse—the warrant charged her with neglecting and cruelly ill-treating it—at the station she said, "I admit neglecting the child, but I was never cruel to it"—I did not take a note of what she said—she said, "I admit neglecting to give my baby sufficient outdoor exercise for the last six weeks."
HORACE MANSEL MAYBERRY . I am a registered medical practitioner—in the early summer the prisoner came to me at the Islington Dispensary, bringing a young child from three to six weeks old—it was in a very thin and weak condition—I examined it carefully, to endeavour to find out what was the matter with it; I formed the opinion that it was suffering from tuberculosis, which, if it grew older, would develop into consumption—it was brought to me two or three times—I gave her full instructions about it—I told her she must give it proper milk, and if the child rejected it, to give it a different kind of milk and a little brandy; it was to have no solid food—it was reasonably clean—I said nothing to her about cleanliness, of course it is a very necessary thing—I saw the child several times afterwards—the last time might have been about-August.
Cross-examined. You showed me once how raw it was; I said perhaps in a little time it might go away; I told you to give it nothing but milk and brandy—I told you at first the child would never get well.
WALTER MACKINLOE DUNLOP . I am Resident Medical Officer of St. Pancras Workhouse—on 24th September the deceased child was admitted into the workhouse—I examined it; it was pale and emaciated and hungry—I weighed it, it weighed 7 lb. 4 oz.—the normal weight of such a child should have been about 14 1/2 lb.—I examined the body and limbs, they were vermin-bitten—the groins were abraded and inflamed in the surrounding parts—that would be due to the want of cleanliness; it was suffering from cold in the eyes, inflammation of the mucous membranes of the nose and bronchial tubes—while in the workhouse the child gained about six ounces in weight—it died on 15th October in convulsions—I made a post-mortem examination—the brain, heart, liver, kidney, spleen, and lungs were all in a normal healthy condition, except being rather bloodless, in an enaemic condition—the body was not well nourished; there was no fat about the body—the lining membranes of the stomach and intestines were in a state of chronic inflammation; the whole alimentary track and glands of the mesentery were enlarged—if the child had lived it would have been consumptive—the immediate cause of death was convulsions, brought on by the enaemic condition of the brain, resulting from chronic catarrh of the intestinal track—in my opinion it was the result of irregular and improper food, and exposure and want of proper clothing—I have no doubt that the child had a tuberculosis taint, which would no doubt have developed acute tubercular disease under any circumstances if it had lived—the convulsions were not due to tubercular disease, but in my opinion to the enaemic condition of the brain; there was want of power to assimilate food, on account of the peculiar condition of the intestines.
Cross-examined. I do not think falling out of a perambulator would cause the injury to the brain.
By the COURT. There was inflammation of the mucous membrane of the intestinal canal—there are many causes for that—irregular nourishment would be a cause—the child was a diseased child—there was a distinct lesion—the glands being enlarged would point to hereditary taint—it would probably have died of consumption at some time—it is my opinion that life was shortened by neglect; of course I can't say for certain; a child in that condition ought to have had the constant care of the mother or someone else—if that was withheld, the disease would take its course and the child would die, the latent disease would become active—in the workhouse it had every care, and appeared to improve, and in six weeks gained six ounces—if convulsions had not come on it might have greatly improved; the convulsions came on quite unexpectedly—the child died in & suffocated condition; in the convulsion.
Prisoner's Defence. I have done all I could for my baby. Whether my own illness had any ill-effect on the child, I can't say. In a good many things Mrs. Smith has not told the truth; it was partly through her that my child was neglected; she was always making me run about on errands for her.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FORREST FULTON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
ANNIE BOWDEN . I live at 2, Alcroft Road, Hampstead—I have known the prisoner about two years and a half—I was in the habit of meeting him and having drinks with him—on Monday, 26th October, about half-past one or two, I was with Emily Peachey near the King's Cross Metro-politan Railway Station—the prisoner came up and spoke to me, and asked me to have a drink, as he did not care to have one by himself; I took my friend with me to the Bell public-house, and ordered a glass of bitter for each, the prisoner had some whisky—he said, "You don't believe what I told you on Saturday?"—he then told me was going to poison himself on the Wednesday, as his brother had done before, put he bad to wait till he had taken leave of his lady, either at Epping Forest or Wimbledon—he took a bottle from his pocket and said, This is the poison I intend taking, will you have half of it?"—I said, "No, thanks"—he said there was quite sufficient in the bottle to kill fifty—he put it to his lips and said, "There, I am not afraid of it, you see, I will drink half of it if you will drink the other half"; he pretended to pull the cork out; I could not see whether he did or not—he attempted to put something into my glass, but I did not see it, he was between both of us; I did not drink the beer, I left it on the counter—I had some claret afterwards, he paid for it—he did not put anything into that—he put the bottle in his pocket—he then left and went to his brother's house in Caledonian Road; he could not get in, and went across the road to a public-house—he looked about the same as he does now, he seemed rather stupid; I never saw him any different—I met a policeman, and he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. This occurred in the private bar of a public-house; my glass was standing on the counter—there was a barman behind the bar—he took out the bottle quite openly, and attempted to pour out some
stuff, I don't know whether he succeeded, the other woman said he did; she was standing on the other side—I did not say before the Magistrate that I did not believe he pulled the cork out—the only acquaintance I had with him was by having a drink with him—he has often given me money; he told me he had been in India, and that he had a sunstroke—I did not give him into custody, the other girl told the policeman—I did not think this was serious. NOT GUILTY .
MR. HAWTIN Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
JAMES PERRY . I live at 202, Kingsland Road; I am an umbrella and walking-stick dresser—on 16th November, about eight in the evening, I was in Shoreditch High Street; I saw the prisoner and another man in a trap, going at a very fast pace towards the City—I was waiting for my wife, who had just gone into a shop, and as the trap passed me I turned round and saw a man knocked down by the horse; it was done in a moment—the trap went on a little; I saw it brought back—the prisoner was in it; he seemed dazed—I don't know which of the two men had been driving—I saw no more of the other man.
CHARLOTTE PERRY . I was with my husband on this night—I saw a gig with the prisoner and another man in it, and an old man, who was crossing the road, was knocked down on the tram line—the gig was going fast, but I have often seen them going as fast.
ISAAC PARNACOTT (G 324). I saw the gig, with the prisoner and another man in it; the prisoner had the reins—the other man jumped out—I said to the prisoner, "Come back," and he immediately pulled back; ho was drunk—I sent a constable with the injured man to the doctor's, and took the prisoner to the station—I saw no more of the other man.
JOHN HAMMOND . I am a tailor—I saw this accident happen—I saw the deceased cross the road in front of me; the trap, with two men in it, knocked him down, and the wheel went over him—one of the men jumped out of the trap and went away—the prisoner was driving; he went on for about twenty yards and stopped—I noticed him afterwards, and he was smothered in mud all over his clothes; he appeared to be drunk.
Cross-examined. I saw the reins in the prisoner's hands, the horse was in a tremendous sweat.
ROBERT FRASER STANDING . I am House Surgeon at the Metropolitan Hospital, Kingsland Road—the deceased was brought there about half-past eight on the evening of the 16th November, very seriously injured—upon making a post-mortem I found that the lower part of the left lung had been cut in two, and many ribs were broken—he died in about twenty minutes.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FORREST FULTON Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
ELIZA FELTHAM . I am the prisoner's wife, and have been married to him about thirty-three years—I ceased to live with him about two years and a quarter—in November last I was living at 11, University Street, with my two daughters—on Tuesday night, the 17th November, my husband came there to have supper; my two daughters were with me at supper—after supper my husband said to me, "Has that fellow been here to-day?"—I said that it did not matter much to him—I knew to whom he referred, a man named Willett, who was in the habit of coming to see me there—I had left my husband, because I could not be happy with him; he was such a miserable, desponding man; it had nothing to do with Willett—when he put the question to me I did not answer him unkindly, because I was afraid he had come for a purpose—I saw a flash, and the shot went through my face—I did not fall—the shot took effect just above my eye; I became perfectly blind for the time, it has nearly taken the sight from one eye—I received a second shot in my neck—I was taken to the hospital, and was there three weeks—I am still an out-patient—the bullets were extracted at the hospital.
Cross-examined. When I left my husband, about three years ago, there was no special quarrel—my husband was at work for Willett at that time; I did not leave him on account of Willett—I have received letters from Willett, signing himself Charley, and calling me dear Lizzie; he had known me seven years; my husband was in the habit of coming and having supper with me and my daughters, and always made himself very comfortable, but on one occasion previous to this he brought a revolver with him, and I found it out by taking hold of his overcoat-pocket—I received this letter from Willett on the 9th August, from Aix-la-Chapelle—I received a letter from him about every week—when my husband came on this evening he did not say he brought the pistol to protect himself against anyone that might come there; he certainly complained about Willett—there was not the slightest angry word before he fired.
AMELIA FERRIER . The prisoner is my father—I am a widow, and was living with my mother at 11, University Street—on the 17th November I was having supper with my father, mother, and sister Matilda—after supper he said to my mother, "You have had that fellow here this morning"—she said, "I don't know what you are talking about—he got up to say good-night, as we thought, and then he presented the pistol to her head and fired two shots—I rushed towards him, and snatched the pistol from his hand—I cave it to the constable who was called in—I had not seen my father with a pistol before.
Cross-examined. I saw the pistol in his hand at the time the shots were fired—the first shot must have caused me to look round, and then I heard the second—I took the pistol from him at once; there was no struggle—I think he appeared astonished at what had happened.
MATILDA FELTHAM . I am the prisoner's daughter—I was present when this happened—after supper father asked whether a man had been there that morning—mother said, "I don't know what you are talking about"—he then fired two shots—I did not know where he took the pistol from—my sister snatched it from him; I had never seen it in his possession before; I heard him say he had one; I never heard him saying what he was going to do with it.
GEORGE BASSETT (Inspector G). I took the charge against the prisoner at the station for shooting his wife with intent to murder her—he said, "I had better say nothing; "then after a moment's hesitation he said, "I simply say I did not intend to murder her"—he was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. He bears the character of a quiet, inoffensive man amongst his associates—he has not done any work lately, owing to the strike in the building trade.
GUY WALLACE WOOD . I am House Surgeon at University College Hospital—on the 18th of November, about one in the morning, the prosecutrix was brought there by a policeman, suffering from two bullet wounds; one on the left cheek, just below the eye, the other in the middle of the neck—the bullets were removed the same evening—the result of the wound in the cheek was that, for a time, she lost her sight altogether—she has now recovered it—she was in the hospital three weeks—both wounds were in dangerous places.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Seven Years Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1891.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. RICHARDS and MR. HUGUESON Prosecuted, and MR. JAKOE Defended.
WILLIAM THOMAS EDWARDS . I am a clerk in the Confidential Inquiry Department, General post Office—I was entrusted with the inquiry into the losses at the Rotherhithe Post-office—in consequence of instructions, I made up a post-letter, containing four postal orders, addressed to Mr. J. Godfrey, 138, Union Road, Rotherhithe, and posted it myself on November 20th, at 5.30 p.m., having given instructions to Inspector Hartley to look after it—I saw the prisoner brought by a constable to Jamaica Road, and said to him, "I posted a letter to-night addressed to Mr. J. Godfrey, 138, Union Road, Rotherhithe, London, S. E, containing four postal orders, two pieces of cloth, and a written communication; this letter was placed amongst yours and it cannot be found; what do you know about it?"—he said, "Nothing"—I saw Tower search him, and found the four postal orders enclosed in this brown paper
bag in the lining of his under-coat, and identified them—the brown paper bag had not been in the letter—I said, "I identify these four postal orders as those which I enclosed in the letter to Mr. Godfrey; how do you explain their being found in the lining of your coat?"—he said, "I can't explain it, it is a plant; I have not seen the letter"—I then went with Tower and searched the prisoner's house, and found a crossed cheque for £25, which I have traced as taken from a letter; also a foreign letter, open, a deed of release, open, and some stamps, used and unused—I asked him where he got the cheque from; he said, "I picked it up in Southwark Park Road last Tuesday afternoon, about four o'clock," and that he had had the stamps for years, and "The deed of release was brought to me by a boy last Wednesday; it was open, I don't know the boy"—I asked him about the foreign letter; he said, "I took it out for delivery, I can't explain it being open, it must have come open in the office"—the foreign packet contained confectionery; it was open—I spoke to him about it, he said, "Carelessness in not delivering it."
Cross-examined. He has been in the Post Office about two years—I knew nothing about him till two or three months ago, when my suspicions were aroused by the losses at Rotherhithe—we were always making inquiries; a man was caught there in August—the letter I posted has not been discovered, only the postal orders, which were stuffed between the lining of his coat and the cloth—the constable had to make a most minute search.
ROBERT HARTLEY (Post Office Inspector). On 20th November I received instructions about a test letter going to Rotherhithe—I took it from the box at 5.32, and placed it in the Rotherhithe bag, which I saw tied and sealed; and off it went.
WILLIAM THOMAS ARTIS . I am manager of the Rotherhithe sorting office—the prisoner has been there two years—I received instructions to watch him—I looked at the mail-bag, and found a letter to J. Godfrey—I kept observation on the letters; no one went to them before the prisoner—it was not addressed to his walk, and he should have thrown it out; if he took it out he should have brought it back—I saw him start out on his delivery at 6.45, and saw him come back—the letter had not been delivered, nor had it been returned—he came back about eight o'clock.
Cross-examined. His duty was to deliver letters in a certain district; he sorts them himself, and receives letters from two other sorters—he lays them in rotation—there are two other men sorting the letters he has to deliver—about seventeen men are employed in the office at that time in the evening, and my duty is to look after them; but sometimes I am sitting in the desk—that is a pretty busy time of day—this letter would not come into the prisoner's possession unless it was missorted—I had not received directions to watch any others at that time—there had been general suspicions of thefts—I put it on to his desk, although I knew it was not in his district—other men were sorting, but not at his desk; he sits by himself, and no one went near him to take a letter away from him; he was nearly half-an-hour before he went but on his delivery—I will swear that he did not put it on to another desk on which it should have been properly put; if the prisoner says that he put it on its proper desk that is untrue—during the half-hour I kept, a pen in my hand, and got out of the desk and walked round; but the prisoner
would have had to walk right round the sorting-table to put the letter on the proper desk—he was out a little over an hour—I could not find the letter anywhere; if the prisoner put it on its proper desk it would have been sorted to the proper sorter.
Re-examined. He was under my observation the whole time—I can swear that the letter was not passed into the Union Road walk—the Union Road man came in at 6.45 or 6.50—the prisoner had his hat and coat on all the time—no one could have slipped round and put the letter into the pocket of his under-coat.
ARTHUR TOWER (Constable G.P.O.). I found these orders in the lining of the prisoner's coat; I imagine he placed them in a hole in the lining under his arm—when I produced them he said, "It is a plant"—I found this foreign confectionery, a foreign letter opened, and a deed of release which was posted by a solicitor at Deal on November 17th; it was addressed to "Mrs. Mary Ralph, 49, Shakespeare Road, Bermondsey, London."
Cross-examined. I searched his coat thoroughly, and found no other hole, but there may have been—I looked in the pockets, but did not see whether there was any hole in them; I do not think there was.
MR. RICHARDS Prosecuted, MR. JAKOE Defended.
MILDRED FLETCHER . I am single, and live at the Old Court House, Hampton Court—at the end of October I sent this letter (produced) to my sister Bertha, who was working as a "sister" at Rotherhithe—it contained this cheque for £25, crossed, and payable to order—I gave it to the coachman to post—the endorsement is not in my sister's writing.
Cross-examined. Letters are not often lost when they are so well directed as this—I cannot say whether this letter over reached the office—it is out of the prisoner's delivery; he and sixteen or seventeen others assisted in the general sorting; suspicion might rest on any of them.
Cross-examined. When he was asked about the cheque he said, "I picked it up in Southwark Park Road about four o'clock."— GUILTY — Four Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, December 17th and 18th, 1891.
Before Lord Chief Justice Coleridge.
MESSRS. FORREST FULTON, HORACE AVORY, and MUIR Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and LAWLESS Defended.
The details of this case are unfit for publication.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY on the ground of his youth, and his kindness to Robson during her trouble. — Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, December 17th, 1891.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(114) GEORGE LEWIS** (37) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Alfred William Henry Jones, and of stealing six pairs of boots and three other boots, his property, having been convicted at Wakefield on 6th April, 1885.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
FRANK PEARCE . I am a boot-laster, of Essex Street, Kingsland Road—on September 22nd of between 12.30 and 1 o'clock I was sitting on a barrow in Hackney Road, with Sikes, a boot-laster—I was in work, but not going to work that day—I saw a woman ejected from a public-house, and then looked towards our trades union office, and saw the prisoner and his brother making indecent gestures towards the window—they put their thumbs to their noses, and then turned up their coats and turned their posteriors to the window—we went to see what it was done for, and I heard the prisoner make a noise with his mouth—when I got close to him he drew something similar to this (an iron bar) from his pocket; he struck me with it, but I received it on my elbow—he then struck at me several times in the same manner; I could not ward off two of the blows, and he struck me twice rapidly on my head—I felt stunned, and apt exhausted from bleeding, but I kept my feet—I was smothered in blood—I tried to seize him, but he broke away and ran to the Roebuck public-house, 100 yards off; I followed him; he went in at one side and left by another door; I tried to stop him, and he ran into a policeman's arms about 100 yards from the Roebuck, and I charged him—there was no crowd before I was wounded—I did not see Mr. Stacey till after I was wounded, and then he was trying to get this instrument out of the prisoner's hand—I had done nothing by word or gesture to arouse the prisoner's anger, and never have—I do not know him—the inspector asked him at the station what made him attack me—he said his shop was broken into the
night before, and he had every reason to believe I was the man who did it—I had not done so.
Cross-examined. He did not say at the station that what he did was done in self-defence, but he did at the Police-court—he came up and struck me without the slightest provocation—I am a member of the National Union of Boot and Shoe Operatives, and was sitting close to the office—I was recovering from the day before's drink—the Union are conducting this prosecution for me—I had heard of the two Bates, and that they were in Messrs. Greenwood's employ—I did not know that Greenwood's place was blocked; I know it now, and have heard since that the Bateses took work backwards and forwards to the Greenwoods, and that they were under police protection—as a member of the Union I took part in their processions on Sundays—we go right through the streets with a band, and when we get to the house of an objectionable individual we slow up to the goose-step, and play the Dead March in Saul, and all who wish take off their hats if they have a respect for the dead—I swore before the Magistrate, "The Dead March and the hats off is an intimation that the workers at Messrs. Greenwood's ought to be dead"; and I did wish him dead after he struck me on my head—the procession increased, and at last it got up to 3,000 or 4,000—I have never been present when the prisoner has been guarded by the police in taking his work to Greenwood's—I heard at the Police-court of his being attacked in the street—I closed with the prisoner, and he fell—Mr. Stacey came up, I think, then—he was not dragged through the mud—he was covered with mud when he was taken by the police—he complained of my butting him in the face after he had received the blow—I do not know Mr. Square; they were all strangers to me—I think the prisoner and I had a little struggle when he struck me—of course I should not be such a coward as to run away from him—when he ran into the public-house the Union men increased; they did not call to the landlord, "Throw him out!"—he cried like a child—I do not know that his place had been broken into the night before and his windows broken—I never worked for Messrs. Greenwood.
Re-examined; I only walked with the procession on one Sunday—there were numbers of policemen to see that the procession did not stop; it was still moving when they played the Dead March—I have never been a picket in London—I have been in processions since; I made it a practice to go—I have not seen Bates there—I have seen Mr. Greenwood walking with the procession—I have passed Bates' house since I was wounded—there was no stone-throwing.
JAMES FRAZER . I am a surgeon, of 2, Kennington Road—the inspector sent for me to the station and I examined Pearce—he had two incised wounds on the vertex of his scalp, each an inch long; they nearly met at an angle, but did not go down to the bone; there had been considerable hemorrhage—this instrument would cause such wounds—it has a blunt edge, and must have been used with considerable force.
THORNTON G. SIMPSON . I am a duly qualified medical man—I was called to attend Pearce on the Wednesday and saw him up to October 8th—he was not fit to go to the Police-court between the 23rd and the 8th—he was suffering from two incised wounds on his head meeting at an angle, and very deep—he is still suffering a great deal—they went
through the scalp—this instrument would cause them; the blow must have been struck with considerable force.
Cross-examined. A man under excitement, and under the influence of alcohol, would bleed more freely.
GEORGE SYKES . I am a boot-laster, of Bethnal Green—on September 22 I was with Pearce sitting on a barrow in Hackney Road—we were in the same employment—I saw a drunken woman ejected from a public-house, and two men in the middle of the road turning their posteriors towards the office of the Union—we got off the barrow and made towards them to see what was the matter, and Mr. Bates, taking this piece of iron from his pocket, struck at Pearce (it is a driver, and is used in the boot trade) knocking off his hat; Pearce put up his arm to stop it; four blows were given, two of which took effect, and the man was covered with blood—I put up my arm to save Pearce, and got a very severe blow across my thumb from the same man—I then saw Mr. Stacey—he got behind the prisoner and wrenched the driver from his hand—the prisoner tried to escape, and went at a good pace towards the Roebuck; he and his brother ran through the public-house and came out at the next turning; we followed them, and a policeman stopped them—they were both charged at first, and the prisoner was locked up—Stacey and Peters both fell to the ground, which was terribly muddy.
Cross-examined. I am a Union man, and have taken part in the processions—there was nothing to prevent my being too far off to be struck; I was anxious to see what was the matter—I have said Bates was not surrounded by Union men before he drew the instrument—I saw Pearce and the prisoner down on the ground together, and saw the prisoner dragged along the ground, but only about a yard, when Stacey took the driver from him; he was covered with mud—there was not much blood on him—the prisoner complained of Pearce butting him—I said before the Magistrate, "I do not remember seeing Bates attacked by Pearce, they were both on the ground"—when he got up and made for the Roebuck there were thirty or forty people behind him, but most of them were girls and boys; there were about ten men.
Re-examined. The word "butting" was not used by any one before October 9th—I was cross-examined, and asked if there was any butting, and I said I did not see it; it did not take place in my presence—there was no attack on the prisoner by word, demeanour, or action before he took this instrument from his pocket—there was nothing to prevent his going away—when I have gone in the procession since I have seen the Bateses there.
JOSEPH STACEY . I am secretary to the National Union of Boot and Shoe Operatives, registered under the terms of the Act—the office of that branch is at 159, Hackney Road—I was there on September 22nd and saw the prisoner making disgusting gestures in front of the office, and noises with his mouth—I put down the window and said, "You dirty beast, I will have you summoned for that"—a small crowd collected and he took this instrument from his pocket and struck Pearce; the blood streamed to the ground—I rushed out of the office and took it from him—he struggled to obtain possession of it, and then ran; a police whistle was handed to me, and I blew it—he ran through the Roebuck and out at another door, and was arrested in Hackney Road—at the time the blow was struck no one was menacing him; I saw no provocation given—
the man came up and he immediately turned on him with the file—I saw blood and mud on Bates, whe said at the station that Pearce fell against him and butted him—I said, "I never saw any butting"—he was reeling like a drunken man after the blow; he was really not sensible—the whistle was lent me by a master boot maker on the opposite side of the road, whose shop was blocked in the same way—Pearce gave no provocation.
Cross-examined. Sykes and Pearce came up to where the prisoner was, near enough to be struck by him—our branch of the Union is conducting this prosecution—I rushed at the prisoner, and seized hold of the instrument; we rolled together on the ground—the office is on the first floor, and I ran into the street—I knew that the Bateses were employed at the Greenwoods', whose shop was blocked by order of the board—I do not disapprove of the processions so long as they are orderly—playing the Dead March suggests the death of the sweating system under which they are working; we wish it dead—I should take my hat off if I were in the procession—this is not done by the office, but by a select committee—I believe the prisoner subscribed to prosecute the previous secretary; I knew before that the Bateses had been under police protection in taking their work home.
Cross-examined. The Dead March is aimed at the system—there are about 5,000 men in this branch, and about 40,000 in the whole kingdom—I do not think any police protection was necessary to preserve Bates from violence—I do not think there was anything on this occasion menacing his safety.
CHARLES BURNABY . I live at Bethnal Green—I was a laster before I fell into bad health; I am suffering now—on September 2nd, about 12.30, I was in the office of the Hackney Union and saw Pearce and Sykes outside sitting on a barrow—the prisoner's brother came up alone—there was no collection of people in the street—I heard Mr. Stacey say, "I will summon you for that," and Pearce came up from the barrow—I went to the window and saw the prisoner, with an instrument like this, strike Pearce on his head—the blood flowed and I went into the street and saw him run to the Roebuck public-house, but finding he could not escape, he walked quietly, and was taken in custody—there was no crowd before the wounds were inflicted—when Pearce defended himself by putting up his arm he did not attempt to strike—Mr. Stacey went out into the street before me, and when I got out he had got this in his hand—I heard a whistle—I saw the prisoner given in charge.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner's brother—I do not know the Greenwoods—I did not see Bates on the ground; I saw mud and blood on him—I did not hear the mob yelling outside the public-house to throw him out; I don't think the people called out anything.
Re-examined. It was not a mob of Union men, but of people in the street—I am in Victoria Park Hospital.
JOHN SQUARE . I am a clerk at the Hackney branch of the trades union—on 22nd September I was in the office, and saw Bates making indecent gestures—Mr. Stacey threw the window open and said he would summons him for indecent conduct—I saw Bates strike Pearce two blows with a driver, and saw blood flow—Mr. Stacey ran down, and struggled with Bates to get hold of the instrument; I did not see anyone on the
ground—no provocation was given to Bates by word or gesture—there was no mob of trade unionists; I saw a small crowd.
Cross-examined. I know the Bates's well, and have often seen them with police protection; it was unusual to see them without the police—the first I saw was Pearce and the prisoner struggling together—I afterwards saw Stacey struggling with him for about three minutes before Stacey went down—I did not see Pearce and Bates on the ground together.
Re-examined. I was sitting on a stool—nothing was done to provoke the prisoner—there was no falling on the ground before he took the instrument from his pocket.
WILLIAM GEORGE CARR . I am a painter,. of 202, Cambridge Road—I was at the office of the Union on Tuesday, in the middle of the day, and saw Mr. Stacey leave the office after saying something from the window—I followed him, and saw a struggle and a blow delivered, I cannot say who by, and blood flowed—there were very few people there.
HARRY GLBSON (56 H). On September 22nd I saw the prisoner and his brother some little distance from the trade union office, and saw Pearce covered with blood down his face and all down his coat—he said that the prisoner and his brother had assaulted him—Mr. Stacey handed me this driver, and said he took it from the prisoner's hand—I took both the Bateses to the station, the Inspector put questions, and the brother was discharged—the prisoner said, "Last night the window of my house was broken in, and I have reason to believe Pearce was the one who did it; what I did was in self-defence."
Cross-examined. The two brothers were walking together in front of a crowd of two hundred people—there were marks of blood on the prisoner's face; he said that Pearce had butted him.
Re-examined. Pearce said that he had not—the prisoner said that the blood on his face came there by the butting, but Pearce said it was done when he hung on him to hold him.
GUILTY of assault and occasioning actual bodily harm. Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Discharged on recognizances, to come up for judgment when called on.
MR. GILL Defended the prisoner.
CHARLES HUNT . I am a wine merchant, trading as Lowenthal and Co., at 6, Duke Street, Adelphi—on 10th November I owed the Glass and Bottle Works Company £13 18s., and sent them this cheque (produced)—the prisoner, who is their traveller, called on the 14th and said, "I have come for the cheque"—I said that it had been sent, and showed him a copy of the letter sent with it—he said that it had never arrived—he said, "I had better go to Price's bank and stop it"—I said, "You cannot do better, and in case it has been paid, what will the endorsement be?"-—he said, "Per paid the Glass Works, managing director"—he left—I communicated with Messrs. Coutts, got the cheque back, and sent my clerk to see the prisoner, and communicated with the police—I got back just as the prisoner was coming out; my partner saw him.
November one of Messrs. Gatti's messengers brought this cheque, and I changed it.
GIOVANNI MESSINA . I am one of the messengers to Messrs. Gatti—on 11th November I took an open cheque to Messrs. Coutts—the last witness paid me, and I gave the money to the prisoner, he having given me the cheque.
Cross-examined. He was lunching there with another gentleman.
ADOLPHE VANDERWASSER . I am a horse dealer, of 2, Banfield Terrace, Dulwich—I met the prisoner at St. Martin's Lane, and we went into Messrs. Gatti's to lunch—he gave a paper to the last witness, which I suppose was a cheque, and told him to get the money and bring it to him, which he did.
FRANK LARGE . I am managing director of the Gothic Glass and Bottle Company, 3, Crawford Street West—the prisoner was our traveller, and was in the habit of opening the letters in the morning if I was not there—this is not my endorsement on this cheque; I think it is the prisoner's, but it is very hard to say—I had seen Mr. Hunt, and on November 16th I asked the prisoner if he knew anything about the cheque—he said, "No"—I said if he had had anything to do with it he had better say so—he said, "No"—I saw him every day and said; "If you have had anything to do with it you had better tell me at once"—he said, "I did not endorse it if I had the money," or something to that effect—on the 14th I told him to call and see Mr. Hunt about the cheque, and collect the money—he afterwards told me the cheque had been sent on.
Cross-examined. If he had told me he had cashed the cheque I should not have said anything—I said before the Magistrate that I authorised the prisoner to endorse cheques; also, "He has sometimes been left in charge of the office and might have to make disbursements; he may have made them out of his own pocket; he may have cashed cheques in my absence; ho did so a day or two ago in the case of a cheque payable to bearer: I may have cashed cheques for current expenses instead of paying them into the bank; I may have borrowed £3 or £4 to make the wages up till morning"—he was at one time instructed to collect all moneys due to the firm, and take the control of the business—when he was arrested he had more than sufficient money on him to replace this.
Re-examined. I have given him authority to endorse cheques paid into the bank; but not to take the money for his own use—I did not authorise Vanderwasser to endorse cheques.
SIDNEY TEMBLATT (Detective Officer E). About 9.30 a.m. on 19th November, I said to the prisoner, "I am a police-officer; I am going to take you into custody on a charge of stealing, on or about 11th November, a post letter containing a cheque for £13 18s.; and further with forging and uttering the same, and obtaining money on it"—he said, "I did not put the writing on the back of it"—the witness Large came up and said to the prisoner, "You do not want to bring anyone else into this?" he made no reply—on the way to the station he said, "I did not put the endorsement on the cheque, the man that was with me at Gatti's did it"—I said, "Who do you mean, Vanderwasser?"—he said, "Yes"—I found on him £ 19 10s. and this letter (produced).—The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy, — Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROUTH Prosecuted.
GEORGE CLARKE . I live at 20, Cardale Street, Caledonian Road—on 2nd December, about nine p.m., I was in the Caledonian Road—I may have seen the prisoner in the afternoon—he asked me to treat him—we went to a public-house at the corner of Copenhagen Street—I was the worse for drink—we sat there from ten to fifteen minutes—we had two half-pints—we came out, I wished him good-night, and went towards home through Bennerton Street—he appeared to leave me, but followed me—he put his arm round my neck, then hit me in the ribs—I now feel the effects of it—as I fell I felt my waistcoat being torn open—these are the remains of it; the other half is in the possession of the police—I became insensible on the ground from the effects of the blows—I had in my waistcoat-pocket a sovereign, a half-sovereign, and a pound's worth of silver—part of my waistcoat had gone; the prisoner had it—that part contained my money, £2 10s.—someone helped me up—a crowd gathered—a policeman brought the prisoner to me—I had full opportunity of seeing the prisoner—I have no doubt he is the man who robbed me—when I treated the prisoner I took the money from my coat-pocket, not my waistcoat.
Cross-examined by the prisoner, I do not recollect what happened before what I have stated—I deny refusing to go to my business that evening because you had clipped my hair—your mends have been to my place trying to square the matter—I have not sworn at Clerkenwell that I did not fail down—I do not remember your having a clipping machine in your hand.
HENRY COOK . I live at 5, Sydney Street, York Road, King's Cross—I was a van guard—I was in Copenhagen Street about 9.30, and turned down Bennerton Street—I saw the prisoner with his arm round Clarke's neck—he struck Clarke in the ribs and he fell—the prisoner pulled oft Clarke's waistcoat and ran away with it—Ellis and I followed him—he dodged ns among some carts and cabs—I saw Ellis stop him near the Milford Haven public-house.
CHARLES ELLIS . I am a railway porter, of 15, Bennerton Street, Islington—on 2nd December, about 9.15, I was returning home—I saw the prisoner with his arm round Clarke and feeling in his waistcoat pocket—the prisoner then struck Clarke below the ribs, and tore something from him—my idea is the blow was a hard one; he fell, and the prisoner ran away—I pursued him—I saw something in his hand—he dodged round some cabs—he left what he had in his hand there—I still followed—he threw some silver in my face—I caught him and held him till a policeman came up—Ellis came up afterwards.
Cross-examined. The silver sounded like a handful—very near £1 worth.
Clarke was being held up—he had had a blow, and was insensible—I asked him if the prisoner was the man—he said, "Yes"—I took the prisoner to the station—when charged he made no reply—I found on aim a sovereign, a half-sovereign, a shilling in silver, and 10 1/2 d. bronze, a driver's licence, and a knife.
Cross-examined. You were suffering from the effects of drink—I did not swear at the Police-court I did not see the money taken from you, but I said Clarke did not—you asked if it was a Jubilee sovereign—it was not; it may be new.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I do not feel quite fit to appear here."
In his defence he stated that he was drinking and playing at dominces with Clarke; that he was a horse-clipper to the Road Car Company; that he clipped Clarke's hair with his horse-clipping machine, which made him ashamed to go back to his business, and that the money found on himself was earned in his business.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted, and offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, December 17th, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
He received a good character.—Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, December 18th, 1891.
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
Upon the evidence of HENRY WILLIAM WEBSTER, M.D., and PHILIP FEANCIS GILBERT, medical officer of Her Majesty's Prison, Holloway, the JURY found the prisoner not responsible for his actions. — To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL TAYLOR Defended. HARRY KANES. I am thirteen years old, and live at 34, Russell Road,
Holloway—I have been employed about three months at the North London Club, Rodney street—on 17th September the steward and his wife went out about 12.45, and I was left alone—in about ten minutes there was a knock at the door, and I went down to answer it, and saw the prisoner—I had never seen him before—he wore white glass spectacles, and had a little moustache of bristles of three or four days' growth, and bristles on his chin—he wore light-coloured clothes—he said, "Is the steward in?"—I said, "No, sir"—he said, "Is there anybody in the house?"—I said, "No"—he said, "lam a collector for the bank, and I want you to sign for a cheque," giving me this fastened envelope with "Steward, North London," on it—he then tore a piece of paper out of a red book like this (produced), and asked me to make a receipt—this, "17-9-91—Received from Mr. Jones, collector, one envelope enclosing cheque. N. K." is my writing—I wrote it up flat on the door, as he dictated it—I had nearly finished it when he struck me on my left temple with a hammer-head without a handle—I fell down and put up my hands, but received several more blows with the hammer-head; and he knelt on me and tried to strangle me with a piece of string which he threw over my head, but did not get it quite over—I was bleeding—I got away and ran to the front door, the same door—I got it open, but he pulled me back, and as he did so the hammer-head fell; he was going to take it up, but I kicked it away and got out—he followed me part of the way and then ran—when I was at the foot of the stairs I said, "Oh!" and he said, "If you halloa I will shoot you"—I went up to the top, and heard the street door open in a few minutes; my head was bleeding then—I waited a little while and then went down and washed my head, and looked the street door—after that I called out across the road, and Mrs. Holloway came and took me in a cab to the Royal Free Hospital, where I saw Inspector Radley, and made a statement to him. and described the man—I was at the hospital five days, and then went back and lived with my father—while the prisoner was talking to me he was fiddling with the cutis of his coat, shifting his hands about like this, before any assault took place—on November 4th I went with my father, and Mr. Pettit, and Sergeant Robinson to the Albion beer house, between eight and nine p.m.—we three went in and the Sergeant remained outside—my father ordered something to drink; the prisoner was behind the bar serving—I recognised him as the man who had done this sis weeks before—he was in black clothes, but had no coat. on; he was in his shirt-sleeves—I was in the house ten minutes, and then went out and said something to my father and Robinson—I was taken to Clerkenwell Police-station next day, and picked out the prisoner from a number of others.
Cross-examined. I had not observed him much before he struck me—Inspector Radley took down my statement the same day, and I used the expression, "a two or three days' growth of beard" to him, and I said in re-examination on the second hearing, "He had then a moustache, a little moustache; and a day or two's growth of beard"—after I recovered, Sergeant Robinson took me to various places; we went to a music-hall to recognise, if I could, the man who struck me—when I went to the Albion beer-house they told me to look all in the bar and the partitions to see if I could see the man—there were not very many persons there; some were playing at dominoes and some sitting down drinking—the
prisoner was standing by himself—he was not the first man I looked at—I could see through all the partitions—I could see the prisoner from every part of the place I went to; he was prominently before me—I had to look at him for three or four minutes before I was sure he was the man—he was perfectly clean-shaven then—he was in such a position that he could see me the whole time I was in the bar—his shirt-sleeves were turned back, but I did not notice the position of his hands—I had not seen the witness Posh Price before I went to that beer-house, nor had I heard his name mentioned by my father or Robinson; nor did I know him as Faulkner—when I identified the prisoner next day at tie station he presented precisely the same appearance as when I saw him behind the bar a very few hours previously, only he had his coat on—he wore a black waistcoat behind the bar—the man at the club had a light jacket, I did not notice whether it was a whole suit; his spectacles dropped off when he hit me—his eyes and his voice struck me particularly when I saw him at the beer-house—the first blow half stunned me—I was in a terrible state of agitation.
Re-examined. When I went to the Albion, I was told to look round and see if I could see any one; my father was in the partition with me, and I noticed that the prisoner left the bar and went somewhere at the back, and then came out again—he afterwards left the bar a second time; he saw me in the bar, but I noticed nothing in his appearance or manner when he saw me; he had a full moustache then—when I said he was clean shaved, I referred to his chin.
By the JURY. There are three compartments in the beer-house, and I could see the prisoner in each—when I was in one compartment I could see the people sitting in the other two; the partition is low, and I could see over it; there is glass above the bar, and I could see under it.
FRANCES DEW . I live at 9, Rodney Street, Clerkenwell, nearly opposite this club—on 17th September, a little before one o'clock, a little girl came to me; I went to the club, and Case had just gone off in a cab—I went inside the door and found this pair of spectacles all over wet blood, and this hammer-head on the other side of the swing doors in the same condition—I also found these two pieces of paper lying down by a window, just inside the door—I went into the kitchen and found this piece of string quite red with blood—I handed them to Constable Harris.
EMILY SHELDRICK: . I am the wife of George Sheldrick, of 17, Rodney Street, exactly opposite this club—on 17th September, about 12.50, I went to this club with Mrs. Holloway, and saw Case with his head bleeding; I attended to him and sent him to the hospital with Mrs. Holloway—I saw Mrs. Holloway pick up this red book on the door-step of the club.
Cross-examined. My husband is a member of this club; I have accompanied him there on his attendance nights—I never saw the prisoner there or in the neighbourhood.
SUSAN HOLLOWAY . I live at 17, Rodney Street—on 17th September, about one o'clock, I was standing at my street-door and heard somebody call, "Come over here"—I went over to the club and saw the lad with his head covered with blood—I picked up this red book and gave it to the police.
handed me these things, except the string, which Radley found—I got this red book from Mrs. Holloway, with some loose envelopes in it, similar to this produced.
ROBERT BRUCE FERGUSSON . I am a surgeon, of 44, Arundel Gardens—on 21st February I was House Surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital—Case was brought in suffering from shock and loss of blood, he was very cold—he had four wounds on his head, and a large swelling over his left eye, and one on the back of his head—such a blunt instrument as this would cause all of them, he remained till the 22nd, and was then discharged as an out-patient.
JAMES RADLEY (Police Inspector G). On 17th September I went to the Royal Free Hospital, and saw Case, who gave me a description of a man, which appeared next day in the Police Information, and was circulated—I went to the club, and saw a large pool of blood inside the front door, and found this string on the kitchen table, wet with blood; it was double, the two ends were tied—I received this red book with three envelopes in it; these are two of them, the third was similar—when the prisoner was brought to the station he said, "If I had some books that are in my pocket at home, I could prove where I was on 17th September"—Sergeant Robinson went to the Albion beer-house for the books; they were shown to him, he looked through them, and said he could not tell where he was on the 17th—the red book was then produced, and he said, "That is not my book"—I said, "This book has been found at the North London Club; have you lost one like it?"—he said, "No, I never had a book like it"—he was fidgeting about with his hands and putting his thumbs in his sleeves; he was very much agitated.
Cross-examined. When the charge was read over he said, "I am innocent of it"—the first name in this red book is Tom Simmonds, the second is Jack Harper, and the third Posh Price—I know two Harpers; one is a milk-carrier and the other a publican—the police have seen the publican—I am informed that Jack Harper does not know anything about it; he appears as a subscriber, and Simmonds for one shilling, and Posh Price for five shillings; here is also an entry, "North London ten shillings," and "Radicals fifty shillings"—the prisoner is a man of undoubtedly good character in every way; he has held a licence for two or three years.
By the COURT. I cannot go so far as to say exceptionally good character; he took this public-house in October after this offence was committed—he had held public-houses before, but when this offence was committed he was in no regular employment.
JOHN ROBINSON (Police Serjeant G). I also wont to the Royal Free Hospital on September 17th, and Case gave me a description of the man—since his discharge from the hospital I have been with him to various places—a little while before November 4th I received information, and between eight and nine p.m. I went to the Albion beer-house with the boy, but did not go inside—he and his father went in, and he came out in a little time very much flurried—he appeared all right when he went in—he made a statement to me and was sent home—next day, at twelve o'clock, Sergeant Blythe and I went to the Albion with the boy's father, and after a time I saw the prisoner on the public aide of the bar, and Mr. Case said, "This is the man that Harry picked out last night, and I charge him with beating him with a hammer"—I said to the prisoner,
"We are police officers, and are going to arrest you for wounding a boy at the North London Club, Rodney Street, Pentonville, on 17th September"—he laughed—I said, "It is a serious matter"—he asked if he could send for his employer—we took him to King's Cross Police-station, where he was placed with several others and identified by Case—when the charge was entered he said, "I am innocent of it; if I had the pocket-books that are in my coat pocket at home I could prove where I was on the 17th"—I then went with the Sergeant to the Albion beer-house, and received from the prisoner's wife this coat with two black-covered books in the pocket—these light-covered books were handed to me by his employer the next day—I took them all to the station, and the prisoner went through them, but said he could not find the date—he seemed rather fidgetty.
Cross-examined. He asked me to go to Mr. Charles Peters, in Hackney Road, and ask him if he could recollect on what day he was driving a brougham for him; I went on the 6th; Mr. Peters went through a book and said that on September 18th Dove drove a brougham for him, but on looking at the 17th he said that Dove was not driving a traveller on that date, but he was working for him, driving him about—the distinction was that Peters said he was driving him and not driving a gentleman—I asked him if he could recollect any place where they called; he said, "I cannot"—the prisoner is a man of most excellent character; Mr. Wells, who has known him upwards of seven years, gives him a very good character; and another man spoke of him as being in his employ—I accompanied Kanes to various places, and about October 20th took him to Foresters' Music Hall, Hackney, where a benefit was being given for the prisoner; I do not know whether the prisoner was present, as I did not enter the inner part of the house; the boy went in with Sergeant Blythe, and I remained outside with his mother—I first saw Posh Price on the 18th, the day following the boy being assaulted—I did not show him the red book, nor did he say anything about the book being red—he made a statement to me, and I gathered what I could from him—I believe he is a sporting publican and an ex-pugilist—benefits are constantly given in the class of life to which he belongs—he is a well-known man who might be called upon to subscribe to benefits of this kind—that also applies to Tom Simmonds and Jack Harper; they are both well known in the sporting world—a man named Jones is in custody at Clerkenwell; he is somewhat like the prisoner; he is about his height, and is dark—I cannot say as to his features being like—Jones is a notorious individual, so far as the police are concerned—some of the cases in which he is said to have been concerned took place about the middle of September—he is charged with being concerned with others in a series of housebreakings—he is a member of what is known as the postman's gang, he is said to be associated with Charley the Postman; that name is because he was in the Post Office at one time—I know that Jones has been to the North London Club more than once—I do not know whether he is a member—I was informed that he has been seen there—I often saw Posh Price between September 18th and November 14th, but he never mentioned anything about the red book; he first saw it at the Police-court—Tom Simmonds and Jack Harper are not able to throw any light upon this case—I heard portions of Posh Price's evidence at the Police court; I cannot say that
he said, "I asked the prisoner where he had been for subscriptions among sporting men"—I said, "Have you been to Simmonds?"—he said, "No; but I will go to-day," but I know the name of Simmonds was mentioned—Simmonds is the first of the three names.
Re-examined. There are some loose leaves in the book, they fell out to-day—I made inquiries chiefly of publicans who have been sporting men—in this book, which was handed in by the prisoner's employer on November 5th, there was a loose sheet when I received it, it was just as it is now—Jones was taken in custody about a month ago—I had seen him three or four months before that, and knew him well by sight—I should not mistake him for the prisoner, or the prisoner for him; Jones has a different cast of features altogether, and a flatter face, and a different shaped nose—I have heard him speak, and I have heard the prisoner speak; there is no similarity in their voices.
By the JURY. Simmonds and Harper know nothing about these subscriptions in the book.
JAMES EDWARD BROCKLEBANK . I am the steward of the club—on the morning of September 17th I received this postcard: "Will you call and see our manager on Thursday morning at 10.30.? Important, Watling and Co., Buckingham Palace Road, Pimlico."—I went with my wife to Watling and Co., and found they knew nothing about it—there was a benefit at the club on 14th and 15th September, which was advertised in the newspapers and by tickets—the money was in my possession upstairs—when I got back I found that the boy was at the hospital.
Cross-examined. Watlings supply me with pork pies—I had never seen the prisoner in my life to my knowledge—Watling's cart pulled up three times a week, and anybody, not only members but visitors, could see Watling's show-cards, and would know that Watling was supplying provisions—there are a few over 600 members in the club—I reside, on the premises—benefits are not frequent there—members have the privilege of bringing friends into the club; Jones, who is now under arrest, is not a member to my knowledge; I never saw him in my life that I know of—Watling has never supplied the club, but he has supplied me for about six months—on benefit nights tickets are sold to others than members, but no one is admitted unless he is a member or the holder of a ticket, and a ticket can only be obtained through a member.
GEORGE FALKNER . I keep the Foresters' Arms—I am known as Posh Price—I have known the prisoner about three years—on 15th September, between 10 and 12 o'clock, I saw him in my bar; and asked him if he had been up all night, as he looked rough—he had been having a benefit, he had been to several houses—he asked me what he should put me down; I gave him a dollar—he then put a lesser subscription paper on the counter, and I wrote my name on it for 5s.—he said, "I will book this"; and put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a memorandum book with a red cover, similar to this, and wrote something in it, I did not see what—I was on the private side of the counter, and he on the public side—the reason he gave for writing that was that he should be able to show it—he wrote it about the middle of the book, I think—I saw two lines on the page, apparently two other names, half or a third of the way down—he asked if I had any objection to be put on the committee—I said, "No"—he said that if my name was there he could make what use he liked of it, and thanked me,
and said he was much obliged, as he was on the knuckle, and it would do him good—I asked him to have a glass of bitter ale, and he had it—I asked him if he had been round to any houses; he said, "No; but I will go to-day"—the reason he gave for having the benefit was that his brother had robbed him—I noticed that he had not shaved for a day or two—he wore a check cut-away coat, which went down to his middle—a day or so afterwards he brought me some bills and tickets; I think he had a black coat then, and was clean shaved, except his moustache—I know one of his brothers, and a very good man too.
Cross-examined. I always looked on the prisoner as a respectable man—I had no particular reason for noticing the book—I am well known as an exponent of the noble art, and have been connected with a good many benefits—I am frequently asked to subscribe, and am always ready—men like Jack Harper and Tom Symonds are frequently asked—they are well-known sporting men—I did not see the book again till I saw it at the Police-court; it was like this—I cannot swear to it; I never handled it—I suggested to the prisoner that he should go and see Tom Symonds; he said he had not been, but would go that day—I keep no record of the benefits to which I subscribe.
Re-examined. I never had the book in my hand either at the Police-court or since—I do not recollect whether I gave 5s. to anybody that day.
By the JURY. I do not know Jones, who is in gaol for burglary; I never gave him 5s.
JAMES KANES . I am the prosecutor's father—on 4th November I took him to the Albion public-house; I saw the prisoner serving behind the bar—I asked for some spirits, he said he did not keep them—after I had been served he went into the bar parlour and came out again, and then my son spoke to me—we had then been in the house four or five minutes—my son became very queer.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN ABRAHAMS . I keep the Dorset Arms, Hackney Road—I have known the prisoner about three years; he bears a very good character—he came to me at the end of August, and said he bad had the misfortune to be robbed by his brother, and he wanted a benefit; I think it was his brother-in-law—I acted as secretary, and a committee was formed at my house—I saw him from the end of August till the benefit took place on October 20th—no books were used for collecting the subscriptions; they were put down on foolscap, but afterwards the subscribers' names were inserted in two blank books; I had one of them and Dove the other—this (produced) is my book, in which I put down the names myself, and this (another) is his—no books were used till the benefit took place on October 20th—I have had no experience in getting up benefits; this was the first—I saw no books used by the prisoner till the benefit was got up, simply foolscap; and I saw him two or three times a day—I never saw him with a red book—he paid all moneys to me while the benefit was being got up; I had about £20 in my hands—the benefit took place at the Foresters' Music Hall on October 20th, and the house was full—the prisoner was there, and went on the stage and thanked the people for their attendance—during those two months he wore a black coat, something like what I have on now.
Cross-examined. He was living at 14, George Street, Hackney Road, at the end of August—money came into my hands before the benefit
but only these sheets of foolscap were used—the receipts of the benefit came into my hands, and I paid for the hall and the printing, out of the money; he used to come to my house with these sheets of paper and give me the money, and I copied the names off—I saw that he had been to Posh Price—his name is on the sheet which is here, but not in the black book, because that was simply the money we had not got in—these are the sheets by which the prisoner was working; here are the words Posh Price, which I copied from the paper—I cannot tell why this has been cut off from a larger sheet of paper, it has been worn out—I hare not had these papers in my hand since I took the money—he got 5s. from Posh Price.
Re-examined, I have never seen him write, I don't think he can; when he was signing his benefit receipt he put a cross—I never saw him wear spectacles—the 5s. has never been cut off—I got these sheets that day or next morning—I have got no book of the date of 15th September—the entries on this piece of paper are as the prisoner brought them to me—he kept the sheets to go about for subscriptions to Posh Price's—he brought the sheet to me each day, and as he did so I put them on the white sheet—there was a book for people to put their subscriptions in, and as they paid I put my signature; the money would go into the till—the premiums would go into this black book—there is no entry in the black book showing that the sums mentioned on the white paper were received; there is no reference to them—I can't explain why the sheets are cut top and bottom—the prisoner was on the stage about a quarter of an hour that evening returning thanks; that was about ten—the rest of the time he was among his friends in the hall—the house was full; more than three hundred or four hundred.
By MR. TAYLOR. The books were not purchased till after 20th October, when it became a question of getting in the tickets—I saw the subscription-list many times before the 20th October, and I would copy from that on to a piece of paper—the names on the list were written by the various persons as they subscribed—no money was handed to me except by the prisoner in respect of this benefit—I distinctly recollect the subscription-list with Posh Price's name on it—I do not find the names of Simmonds or Harper on the list—I never saw in the prisoner's possession a red book from which I copied names.
CHARLES PETERS . I am a carman in Hackney Road—on 4th or 6th November I was visited by two officers, who asked me questions about the prisoner—I told them he had driven a traveller's trap for me; I could not tell the date, but my book would prove—this is the book; the date is 18th September—I met the prisoner the day before about 8.45 a.m., and asked him to drive the brougham for me, as I was so busy; and he was with me all day till 8.30 p.m.—I was driving my rounds and he was by my side—I have known him, since I have been in business, for eighteen years, as an honest, respectable man.
Cross-examined. I have kept the Blue Anchor six years next September—I live there—I have a manager, but he has no authority to give a shilling away.
Re-examined. The police saw me on September 18th, and I at once
told them I knew nothing about it—I did not mention what had taken place to my manager; I made no inquiries, because I knew nothing of the case till last Monday.
JOHN HAY . I keep the Devon Arms, Morning Lane, Hackney—I have known the prisoner twenty years—I have seen the prisoner write; I hold his power of attorney—these envelopes, postcard, and red book are not in his writing—you can hardly tell what his writing is.
Cross-examined. Robinson never came to my place—I handed these two books to the police at King's Cross Police-station—they are books in which the prisoner has made entries—the writing is all mine, and "Dove" is mine; but the figures are not mine—I cannot say whether this loose sheet is in his writing; I think it is—I fancy this last "John Hay" is his writing—these two entries are my writing, and when he gave me a receipt this £1, and £1, and £1 are in Dove's writing—I think the top is in his writing—he took possession of the Albion on October 7th; he is married, and has five children—he did not show me his subscription-lists each day; he showed them to Mr. Abrahams—I do not know whether they were all on blue paper; they have been very much mutilated by the prisoner carrying them in his pocket; I saw several.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, December 18th, 1891.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ALLEYNE Prosecuted.
ALBERT EVANS . I am a porter, of 3, New Court, Spitalfields—on 25th November, about midnight, I was walking in Wheeler Street, with three persons—I bade them good night, and a man from behind put his hand into my trousers pockets, which were empty—I said, "I have got nothing"—he threw mo to the ground, and I got a violent blow on my head from a stick—I went to raise myself and received another blow on my forehead; I went again to rise and saw the stick coming, and received a second blow on my forehead—I caught hold of the stick and got a kick on my knuckles, and the stick was wrenched from me—I put my hand over my head and caught a violent blow on my arm, which I thought would break—they kept beating me across the arm which I kept up to save my head; both my arms were bruised down from my elbows—I did not see who did it; I cannot say if there was more than one—I was bruised all over, and had a large gash on my head; I have not been able to do much work since—I became insensible, and when I came to they were gone—my head was bleeding shockingly; both my coats were swamped right through—I must have holloa'd—when I looked round no one was near me; no one came up while I was on the ground—when I got up I saw no one—I ran towards Quaker Street, and stood against a post, and I was told I was wanted at the station, and I went there a few minutes after it happened—I could not recegnise anyone at the station; I saw Warner there—on the following Saturday I saw Loftus at the station, but did not recognise him.
November I was with Evans, and left him about 12.40 a.m. of the 25th, standing at the corner of Quaker Street—I was talking with Pennicant and another man, and saw Pennicant run away, and I ran after him in the same direction that Evans had gone, and I saw Evans running back with his hands to his head, and his head all bleeding; I noticed no one near him—he complained to me, and then I ran after Pennicant to see what was the matter, and we met a policeman at the corner of Commercial Street, outside the chocolate palace, and gave him information.
ROBERT PENNICANT . I live at 5, Diss Street—early in the morning of 25th November I was in Wheeler Street—I saw the prisoners standing at the corner of Quaker Street, and Evans going towards them—I heard a man halloa "Hi!" and I ran up and saw Warner strike Evans, who was rising from the ground, twice with a stick—Loftus was hugging him, with his arms round Evans, when I saw the stick go up—the street is pretty well lighted; it was a bit dark where this occurred, forty yards from a lamp—then both prisoners moved away—I ran over the way to the dark, and followed them till I saw a constable in Commercial Street—I spoke to him, and he ran and caught Warner, who had the stick, and I ran for Loftus, but could not oaten him—I next saw him at the station on the Saturday, and identified him—I did not lose sight of either of the men from the time I saw them over Evans till the policeman arrested Warner.
Cross-examined by Warner, I am sure I saw you strike Evans with the stick—I was about five yards off—it was not pitch dark, in was light enough to see—I followed you right up till the constable took you—I can swear you had the stick and used it twice—it was about 12.30 or 12.40.
THOMAS YORK (22 H). I was on duty, and Pennicant told me something—both prisoners were then about the length of this court from me—I took Warner, and said I should take him into custody for assaulting a man in Wheeler Street, on the evidence of the two men standing by—he said, "I know nothing about it"—Loftus was with him, but he ran away—I said, "You will have to come to the station with me, and we will see"—I took him to the station, and then went out and, with the last two witnesses, assisted to bring in the prosecutor—Warner was carrying this stick—I had seen Loftus several times during the evening, and just about closing-time I had seen both prisoners in Wheeler Street, close to this spot—Loftus had the stick then.
Cross-examined by Warner. I saw you with Loftus about half-past twelve.
Cross-examined by Loftus. I saw you three times, I daresay, that evening before that; I saw you by the Cambridge—I know you both well—I saw you after half-past ten.
GEORGE NEWMAN (47 H R). On Saturday night, 28th November, I arrested Loftus coming out of a public-house—he said "B—me, what is it for this time?" and endeavoured to escape, but fell down—when the charge was read to him after he had been identified, he said, "You can b----y well get it up for me"—Pennicant came and identified him from nine others.
Warner in his defence said that it was unlikely he would try to rob a man who he knew had no money; and Loftus in his defence denied any knowledge of the matter.
LOFTUS GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in July, 1890. WARNER GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. ABRAHAMS Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
WILLIAM GEORGE ACKERS. I am a grocer's assistant, and live at 215, Richmond Road, Hackney—about 8.15 p.m., on Monday, 30th November, I was in Bishopsgate Street. Without, with Charles Alabaster—I was in front of Mr. Moore's jeweller's shop, when I saw a man throw a large stone, which broke the glass—the prisoner said, "Oh Jim, what have we done?" and he put his hand through the broken window and took two large handfuls of jewellery, and ran off—I followed him and cried "Stop thief!"—he turned into Spital Square, and threw the jewellery down, and a constable stopped him—the jewellery was handed to the constable—the prisoner kicked and struggled to get away.
Cross-examined. I was in the crowd when the prisoner was stopped by the constable, about as far off as that partition—I did not lose sight of him—there was a crowd when he was stopped—the man who threw the stone ran in front of the prisoner—I heard another man as well as myself call out "Stop thief!"—I did not hear the prisoner do so—the constable got hold of him—he said, "You have got the wrong bloke"—I and the other boy were looking in the shop when the window was broken, and had my back to the prisoner—I said at the Police-court that he said, "What have we done?—there were no other people round the shop when it was done; there were passers-by—it sounded to me like a bag of stones that broke the window, because it was wrapped up, and went with a heavy crash—the chains were thrown away about twenty yards from the shop, outside the oil-shop.
Re-examined. The parcel thrown through the window was of this size (produced).
CHARLES ALABASTER . I am a tea packer, of 25, Virginia Road, Shoreditch—on the evening of 30th November, at 8.30, I was with Ackers looking into this window, when a man threw a stone, which passed between our heads, and smashed the window; that man walked sharply by, and the prisoner put his hand through the window, snatched at the jewellery, and ran away to Spital Square—I heard one of the men say, "Oh! Jim"—I saw the prisoner arrested.
Cross-examined. Iran after him, behind Ackers—I did not see the jewellery thrown away—I stepped back when I heard the crash, and looked round to see who threw it, and saw the prisoner snatching the jewellery—I do not know the other man—I only saw his back.
Re-examined. I did not lose sight of the prisoner.
W G. ACKERS (Re-examined). Another man was charged at the Police-court with trying to rescue the prisoner, and got six months—I did not say he was the man that got the jewellery—I identified him out of fifteen others as the man who tried to rescue the prisoner, not as the man who stole the jewellery.
him; he struggled to get away, and said, "It is not me; you have stopped the wrong bloke"—I said, "Wait a minute, and we will see"—he had nothing in his hand—a man came out of the crowd and handed me a handful of watch-chains, and said, "I saw him throw these down as he was running"—I took the prisoner to the station; on the way I was surrounded by several men, and struck in the face and knocked down, and while I was on the ground the prisoner kicked me several times; he was very violent—others interfered with me; one of them was afterwards convicted, and sentenced to six months' hard labour.
Cross-examined. I saw another man running in front when I stopped the prisoner; the prisoner did not tell me he was running after that other man.
CHARLES ALEXANDER MOORE . I am a watchmaker and jeweller, of 95 Bishopsgate Street Without—about 8 or 8.15 p.m. on 30th November my window was broken—I went out to see what had happened—I saw saw this stone in the window, and the window all smashed, and I missed about twelve alberts, value about £5—these are mine; they were shown to me at the station.
The GRAND JURY commended the conduct of Ackers. The RECORDER also commended the conduct of Ackers and Alabaster, and awarded them half a sovereign each.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday December 18th, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STEVENSON Prosecuted.
The deposition of John Street (203 C) was read: "About 7.15 a.m., on 11th inst., I was called into 6, Grafton Street. I found the pantry door locked. I burst it open and found the prisoner there; I asked him how he got there. He said he did not know. I examined the back area door and found a pane of glass broken in it, making an opening large enough for a man to get through it, and the door was fastened and bolted inside. The prisoner gave an address at a common lodging-house in Strutton Ground. He is not known there. At the station prisoner had some blood on his hand; I asked him how he did it. He said he must have cut it in breaking the glass. The blankets in the pantry had been lain on. The opening in the door was 20 inches by 30 inches. The glass was inside the hall. The prisoner was not drunk."
jobs I noticed broken glass from the area door, and a man's coat lying by the door—I had locked and bolted that door the night before—I heard a noise in the pantry about 7.15 a.m.—I went upstairs and called Mrs. Bailey, and we went through the hall and spoke to the prisoner in the pantry—when I went upstairs the pantry door was open; when I. came down it was locked from the inside—I went out and called a policeman—Mrs. Bailey asked the prisoner through the area door how he got there; he said he did not know, he must have been drunk—the constable broke the door open—I saw the china from the pantry cupboard scattered about over the hall and the pantry, and the blanket and quilt from the footman's bed—I had not seen the prisoner before—none of the things were taken out of the house—some of the china was put together in a heap on a chest of drawers in the hall—the greater part of the things were moved from the pantry into the hall—the prisoner seemed sober—he had a coat on.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. There were no traces of your going upstairs—your clothes were dirty.
MARIA BAILEY . I am housekeeper to Lord Henniker, at 6, Grafton Street—on 11th November, in consequence of what the housemaid said to me, I. went downstairs—I saw a man's coat and hat on the mat by the area door—a pane of glass of the door was broken—the top part of the door is glass—I went to the servants' hall, which leads to the pantry, and called out, "Who's there?"—I heard a sound from the pantry, saying, "I do not know how I got here; I must have been drunk"—the housemaid and I ran upstairs into the street, and called, "Police!"—a constable came, broke the pantry-door open and took the prisoner—I did not see the prisoner till he got into the passage—he seemed quite sober—to get in he would have to get over the area railings—the area gate was shut and locked the night before—things were scattered about, some on the table, and some on the shelf, and these were moved from the pantry into the servants' hall; three cups, a glass mug, a little teapot, a glass tumbler; a blanket and a counterpane were lying on the floor in the servants' hall; they belonged to the pantry bed, where the footman sleeps—he was not sleeping there that night, as Lord Henniker was away—the value of the articles was 10s., or a little more—the china was part of a dark-blue breakfast service,
Cross-examined. The cupboard was left unlocked, and the keys were in the door—I spoke first to you through the pantry door.
Re-examined. I did not see the prisoner till the police had got him.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was drunk at the time."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he went into a public-house to shelter from the rain, and remembered no more till he awoke, and found himself in a strange place. He heard people about, fastened the door, and could not undo it. He did not know whether it was a joke or a drunken freak.
GUILTY of housebreaking . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Marlborough Street in May, 1886.— Judgment respited.
127. JOHN NELSEN (29) and HARRY STONE (22) , Breaking and entering the counting-house of Ewald Rottger, and stealing a cash-box, a cheque, thirty-six Cardigan jackets, and other articles, the goods of Ewald Röttger.
MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted.
EWALD ROTTGER . I am a manufacturer's agent at 122, Newgate Street—I have a counting-house on the second floor—on Wednesday, 18th, I left about 5 p.m.—I shut and locked the door—I left this post-office order for £1 18s. 6d. in a cash-box on the window-sill—it was locked—the order was not signed; it was to my brother's credit, W. Rottger—this purse was also in the cash-box—it contained 4s. or 5s. German money, and a gold stud value 25s.—the stud in it is a common one, they are three or four a penny—I went there on the 19th about 10.30 p.m., and noticed that the door had been forced open; the woodwork had been broken away—the cash-box and contents had gone—I know nothing of the prisoners—this paper with my name on is one of my memorandum forms—some Cardigan jackets were also missed from the shelves, also a cheque for £6 16s., a tobacco pouch, and other things.
HARRY GOODWAY . I am a clerk employed at the General Post Office—it is my duty to cash postal orders—on 20th November about, 11 a.m., the prisoner presented this order for £1 18s. 6d.—I asked him if it was payable to himself—he said yes—I showed him where to sign it—he signed it in my presence as it is now: "Ewald Rotger"—I did not notice his foreign accent—I referred to my advice, and' from what I saw there I detained him, and he was given into custody.
DANIEL DENNING (City Police). On the 20th November I was called to the General Post Office—I found the prisoner detained—Sergeant Butler handed me this post-office order for £1 18s. 6d., and said, in the prisoner's presence, "The prisoner has tendered this post-office order for payment"—I said, "I am a police officer; this post-office order was stolen between the evening of the 18th and the morning of the 19th, with a number of other articles, and you will be charged with breaking into an office on the second floor of 122, Newgate Street, and stealing this post-office order, a cash-box, German money, Cardigan jackets, and other articles"—he said, "I will tell you the truth, sergeant; I have not broken into any office, or stolen any cash-box or post-office order; I do not know where the place is; I bought the post-office order from an Englishman; his name is Harry, I do not know him by any other name; he is living in the Manor House Lodging-house, in Leman Street"—I had him conveyed to Snow Hill Police-station—he said he bought it for five shillings—I then went to the Manor House Lodging-house, where I saw Stone—I said, "There is a man of the name of Nelsen detained at Snow Hill Police-station for attempting to cash a post-office order for £1 18s. 6d., and he alleges that he got it from you"—Stone said, "I do hot know any such person, or anything about the post-office order"—I took Stone to Snow Hill Police-station, where I confronted him with Nelsen—Nelsen said, "I bought the post-office order from this man for 5s. in Green's public-house, on Thursday evening; he was offering a Cardigan jacket for sale at the time, and he asked me if I knew where he could change some German money; I took him to the White Bear public-house, Leman Street, where we changed some German marks"—Stone made no reply—they were then charged with breaking and entering 122, Newgate Street, and stealing the articles mentioned—I searched Nelsen, and found on him 2 1/2 d. only—he described himself as a German
—on Stone I found a florin and halfpenny and this empty tobacco pouch—prisoner put this four-a-penny stud in the purse—I am told the prosecutor is a German—I have not been able to find the Cardigan jackets and other articles—this billhead was handed to me at the same time as the post-office order, by the same person, in the prisoner's presence.
Cross-examined by Nelsen. You did not say you lent 5s. on the post-office order; or that you went to Well Street post-office and asked if it was a good one, and they said it was.
Cross-examined by Stone. You came with me at once.
Nelsen's statement made before the Magistrate: "I did not know any better, when the P.O.O. was given to me, that I should go and cash it; I did not know it was a criminal offence; I asked at a post-office in Wells Street if it was all right."
Nelsen, in his defence, said that he obliged Stone, whom he took to be a hawker, by changing German money for him, and lent him 5s. on the P.O.O., believing it was all right. Stone said that he only knew Nelsen as using Green's public-house; he knew nothing about the P.O.O., and he bought the German money for twopence of a rough-looking man who used the house.
NELSEN NOT GUILTY ; STONE GUILTY —Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended Hales.
During the progress of the case the JURY stated that they did not require to hear any more evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KIDD Prosecuted.
CAROLINE JENNINGS . I live at 17 Hazel Grove, where my daughter keeps a shop—on Sunday night, 15th December, I went to bed about eight o'clock—I had fastened the landing window—about ten p.m. I heard two or three hard knockings—I took no notice—about 10.15 I beard another noise, as if someone had got up at the window—I bide a few minutes, then I heard glass break—I jumped out of bed—my bedroom door opens on to the landing, where the window is—I saw Power undoing the catch; he had his fingers inside—a piece of glass had been cut out near the catch—my big curtains had not been drawn, only the muslin ones—he saw me, and ran away—I said, "You young rascal! what are you about?"—he ran along the big blinds that go over the shop and over the door—I saw his face quite plain at the window.
WILLIAM CHARLES HANSHAW . I live at 12, Ravensworth Road, Kensal Green—I work for a greengrocer and fishmonger, 9, Hazel Road—on Sunday, about ten p.m. I was coming from the direction of the Westminster Arms public-house, Kensal Green, and near Hazel Grove I saw
Power and Farrant—I saw Shayler drop from the window-blind at 15, Hazel Road—Power was standing at the corner—Shayler ran by us.
WILLIAM PAUL (292 X). On 25th December, about 10.45, I was on duty in College Park, about 200 yards from Hazel Grove—I was called to No. 17; Mrs. Jennings made a complaint to me—I examined and found the window was broken from the catch, jagged cut—it was a bay window over the door—a lot of small pieces of glass were outside on the window-sill, and some fresh mud marks on the moulding—from information I received I arrested Power on Monday, 16th December, about 9.30 a.m., at the corner of Hazel Grove—I took him by the shoulder—he turned round and said, "It is not me you want, it is Shayler; I saw him at the window"—I had not made any remark—I took him to the station, where the prosecutrix identified him.
WILLIAM SHAYLER (the prisoner). I was with Power and Farrant on Sunday night, 15th December, at the corner of Hazel Grove—Farrant says, "You go and break, you can get in Mrs. Weymouth's"—I said, "No, I shall get caught;" and he said, "Go on, there is some money in there"—I said, "I do not think I shall"—I went over and climbed up the blind of Mrs. Weymouth's shop—Power and Farrant came and sat on the ledge—Power broke the window with a stone—I mean Mrs. Jennings' house, they call it Mrs. Weymouth's—Power took the stone up to the window—the woman came and frightened him—he was just getting back then—he had his hand pushing the catch back—I heard Mrs. Jennings say, "You rascals!"
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Power says, "I and Farrant and two others were coming along Hazel Grove when Shayler shouted out for Mrs. Weymouth's window; he said, 'You do it, I think they are all out; I have been knocking at the door and got no answer. ' We four went round to a tobacconist's and came back again. We stood at the corner; two left. I and Farrant were talking to Hanshaw; Shayler jumped off the window-ledge and ran away; I remained there." Shayler says, "I was not in the lot, nor did not knock at the door."
WILLIAM CHARLES HANSHAW (Re-examined by Power). I was at the corner when the boy jumped down; he stood there when I came up—I never saw anyone at the window; I saw Shayler drop; I did not see this boy, only at the corner.
By MR. KIDD. I did not see him drop as soon as I came up; I was there about three minuses—Power was standing at the corner talking to me—I had nothing to do with the burglary—I was speaking to the two boys; I was just going towards home.
Power's Defence. Shayler said he would tell the truth; now he says I was up at the window. I was not up at the window at all; me and three more boys were coming up and see this one., a ad he shouted out to us; then he jumped down and ran away, then Mrs. Weymouth [Jennings] swears she sees me up there.
POWER— GUILTY* of attempted burglary. SHAYLER then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Harlesden in April 1891.— Four Months' Hard Labour each.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, December 19th, 1891.
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
MR. ELDRED Prosecuted, and MR. A. GILL Defended.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a collar polisher, of 24, George's Road, Holloway—I know the prisoner—on 18th October we were out together—we went to the Cock Tavern at Highbury, and there saw George Rose—I knew him—Rose said to Harman, "Hallo, soldier, I have been a soldier"—Harman called for a drink and asked him what regiment he belonged to—he said, "The first battalion, second useless regiment"—they then got quarrelling about soldiering—Rose after that went outside, came back, and started quarrelling again, and asked the prisoner if he wanted to fight—the prisoner said no—with that Rose made a blow at him—I and another fellow pulled Rose back end got him up in a corner—after that they became friends again, and they were drinking together—then they went outside, as I thought to make friends—after two or three minutes I went out and found them fighting in the Station Road, about, one hundred yards from the Cock—I said, "Well, if you want a fair fight take off your clothes"—they took them off and I held them, and they went on fighting—they were sparring up, and Rose made a hit at the prisoner, who ducked and hit Rose a blow in the right side of the jaw, and he fell on his head—then there was a cry of "Police," and I gave them their clothes, and they went away—I and the prisoner went away together and went home—I did not see what became of Rose.
Cross-examined. I had been with the prisoner some time before we went to the Cock—we had had two or three glasses—some girls and boys were talking together in the Cock—there was no dispute with the prisoner with regard to a woman; we had no woman with us, we were by our two selves—Rose was three-parts drunk, and seemed anxious to pick a quarrel—the prisoner did not want to quarrel or fight—when I went outside they had their coats on—as the prisoner was taking off his coat Rose tried to strike him—as far as I could see, the prisoner was simply using his fists—I heard no suggestion of any weapon being used—they were both bleeding when I got up—the prisoner was bleeding, but not very much, he had two cuts in his head; and blood was trickling down—he had an ordinary military stick, not in his hand, it was on the ground; I picked it up and took possession of it—there were a lot of people there, two or three dozen, but I did not know one—I did not hear any one suggest that the prisoner was not fighting fair—I did not hear Rose say, "He has stabbed me behind the ear"—I was standing close to them—when Rose fell he was near the kerb—I never saw the prisoner with a knife; to the best of my belief he did not carry one—after the 18th I was in the prisoner's company from time to time nearly every day till he returned to Aldershot—Rose was a bad-tempered sort of fellow when drinking; he would take up your pewter and drink, and if you said anything he would punch your nose—I never knew him do much work—he has been convicted of assault and sentenced to imprisoment.
Re-examined. We went into the Cock about a quarter or half-past ten—
I picked up the stick and held it during the fight—I saw nobody fighting but those two—the prisoner was the most powerful man of the two—where the fight took place was a stony road—the prisoner had no knife in his hand when he took his tunic off.
CHARLES FREDERICK MARSHALL . I am a registered medical practioner and House Surgeon at the Metropolitan Hospital, Kingsland Road—George Rose came there on 19th October about 1 a.m.—I attended to him; he had three wounds on his head and face, one behind the right ear at the juncture of the scalp; one in the centre of the right cheek, and the third just above the forehead—the one behind the ear was most of it a clean cut, about an inch and a half long, at the upper end; that might be caused in several ways, by a sharp instrument, or by a fall on some sharp projecting object—the one in the cheek just penetrated; that must have keen caused by some sharp projecting point or a sharp instrument; that went right through into the mouth—the wound in the forehead was not deep, it was just through the skin; that might have been caused by a fall on a stone, or by a blow from a stick—I don't think it could have been caused by a knuckle, unless it was a very hard knuckle—I do not think the-three wounds could have been caused by one fall; two falls might—there were no bruises on the face, except very slightly round the mouth and cheek—I did not find any sign of a knock-down blow on the jaw.
Cross-examined. There was a great deal of mud in the wound behind the ear, that wound might have been caused by a fall on the muddy kerb—the wound in the cheek might have been caused by a piece of broken glass in the road, or by the sharp point of a stone—I don't think it could be caused by a bite; it might by a sharp-pointed stick—he was under the influence of drink—none of the wounds were immediately serious.
CHRISTOPHER ST. JOHN WRIGHT . I am Medical Superintendent of the Islington Infirmary at Highgate—Rose was admitted there on 20th October—he was suffering from three wounds, as described by the last witness—I agree with his evidence, but the wound behind the ear had been sewn up—on 5th November he got seriously ill; lockjaw set in, and he died on the 26th from exhaustion following tetanus—I was present with the Magistrate on the 17th November, when the deceased made a statement in the prisoner's presence; he was sworn—the prisoner had the opportunity of cross-examining him—Rose made his mark to his deposition.
EDWARD DREW (Detective Sergeant N) On 12th November, in consequence of information, I went to the Highgate Infirmary, and saw the deceased, and on the 16th I went to Aldershot, and saw the prisoner—he was with his regiment in the South Camp, the West Surrey—I said to him, "I am a police-officer, and shall arrest you on a charge of feloniously cutting and wounding George Rose on 18th October, at Station Road, Highbury"—he made no reply—I then conveyed him to Islington Station, and then to Highgate Infirmary, with a view to his being confronted with Rose, but he was too ill—I was afterwards present, on 17th November, when Rose made a deposition.
Cross-examined. When I arrested the prisoner I said to him, "You are known as Jack Harman, from Holloway"—I do not remember whether he said, "Yes, my name is Harman"—I will not swear he did not—the
adjutant was present, and said, "I should advise you to say nothing"—I said he was my prisoner—the adjutant said, "I don't suppose he will run away.
JAMES NAIRN (Inspector N). On 16th October, about 8 a.m., I went to Highgate, and saw the prisoner there—I said, "John Harman?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Sergeant Drew has told you the charge"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You will have to be placed with others, in the presence of the injured man, for identification"—he said, "I deny stabbing him; I admit I fought with him"—I asked him if he had any objection to put on plain clothes—he said, "What's the use? he knows me better than I know him."
Cross-examined. Owing to Rose's precarious condition, the identification did not take place.
JAMES ROSE . I reside at 2, Morton Road, Islington, and am a timber surveyor—the deceased was my brother—I saw him on 18th October, at ten minutes to three in the afternoon; he stopped to dinner, tea, and supper, and left at half-past eight to go to the Cock at Highbury, which is about half a mile from my place—I next saw him between one and two on the 19th—his head was then bandaged and he looked ill: I met him in the street.
Cross-examined. He gave me this account of what had taken place the previous night: "When I went to the Cock last night there was a soldier there, and he was along with a young woman that I had previously known, and this young woman shook hands with me and kissed me—we had some refreshment at the bar—the soldier became jealous and struck me, and we went out and had a stand-up fight; I was too much for him, so we separated—I afterwards went to the Station Road for a purpose, and felt myself stabbed behind, and I turned round and saw the soldier had a short dagger in his hand—I tried to wrench it from him, and in doing so I believe it cut the soldier's hand and arm; I got in a passion and knocked him on the pavement; after that I recollect nothing more—I do not know the name of the woman that kissed me.
The statement wade by the deceased at the Infirmary was: "We had one round. I think I got the best of it; I felt my face cut all to pieces. We had another round, and I got cut again; another round, and I got cut again—it seemed to me like a stick the soldier struck me with"—Cross-examined. "I said, ‘You are the man that stabbed Mr. I could not say what with; it was dark."
The prisoner received an excellent character from his captain.
NOT GUILTY .
He was further charged with the manslaughter of the same person, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
GUILTY of indecent assault. — Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ORMSBY Prosecuted, and MR. ROUTH Defended.
JOHN MILFORD . I am a porter, of 26, Farrer Street, Brixton—on 10th November, about 12.40, I was walking up Cheapside and saw the two prisoners walking together down Cheapside—after walking some distance they turned round towards Bow Church; they there got by the side of the prosecutrix, who was walking along with her bag in her hand—Wilson was nearest her, and she very sharply took a purse out of the bag—I was standing three or four yards in front of them, with my back towards the shop window—the prosecutrix shouted out, "That woman stole my purse"—a gentleman who was close by caught Lynes by his collar, at the same time I stopped forward and caught hold of Wilson's arm—Lynes said to the witness, "You have made a mistake," Wilson said, "I know nothing about the purse"—I saw the purse lying on the footpath as I had hold of Wilson; a crowd came round in a few seconds.
Cross-examined. I knew nothing of the prisoners—I was working in the City; this was the dinner-hour; I was smoking—I was attracted by Wilson's manner; she was looking about in a very suspicious way—it all took place in a very few seconds—I saw Wilson pass the purse to Lynes—I said so before the Lord Mayor—the purse slid down on the ground between the prisoners—I am certain I saw Wilson take the purse out of the bag.
WILLIAM MARSHALL . I am a traveller, of 9, Friday Street, City—on 10th November, about a quarter to one, I was in Cheapside—I heard the prosecutrix shout out, "That woman has taken my purse"—I turned round; I was close behind Lynes, and I saw the purse in his hand—I said, "You have got the purse, I shall hold you"—the prosecutrix said, "The woman took it"—I said, "You are both together, I shall hold you as well"—they were close to the edge of the pavement; I then saw that Lynes had not got the purse in his hand, and: I said, "I think he has dropped it"—some gentleman stood back, looked on the pavement, and found the purse—this is it—Lynes then said to prosecutrix, "Now you have got your purse, see that there is everything in it all right; you don't want to charge me, do you?"
Cross-examined. My attention was not attracted to anything till the prosecutrix called out—then I saw the purse in Lynes's hand; he did not pick it up from the ground—I did not hear the prosecutrix say, "I threw it down and he picked it up"—when I took him by the collar he said, "You leave go of me"—Wilson said, "I don't know this man; what do you want to touch me for?"
PERCY MARK HATHAWAY (City Police). I was on duty in Cheapside, near Sir John Bennett's, when I saw a large crowd and went to see what was the matter—I saw Mr. Marshall holding Lynes by the collar—I inquired what was the matter—Mr. Marshall said, "A lady has lost her purse here; look after that woman (pointing to Wilson), she is concerned in the matter"—I took Lynes in custody, Mr. Marshall led Wilson as far as Queen Street, when Constable Tucker helped me to take them to the station—I told them the charge, they made no reply—the purse wan produced at the station by the prosecutrix in presence of the prisoners: I opened it; it contained 16s. 8d. and a pawnticket, and afterwards a sovereign was found in another compartment of the purse.
GUILTY .—LYNES—PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on
WILSON".— Two Months' Hard Labour.
MR. LEONARD Prosecuted, and MR. BODKIN Defended.
The assault was committed as the constable was conveying a prisoner to the station. The JURY, not being satisfied that the prisoner was the person who committed the assault, found him NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Saturday, December 19th, 1891.
(For cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.)
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, December 19th, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
(For cases tried in this Court this day, see Surrey cases.)
OLD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, December 21st and 22nd, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. C. F. GILL and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; Mr. WARBURTON appeared for Ashton, MR. GEOGHEGAN for Humphries, and MR. MUIR for Clarke.
GRACE CAROLINE BOUGHTON . I live at 59, Selwood Street, Rotherhithe, and am examiner of stamps in the employ of Messrs. De La Rue, and Co., Bunhill Row—it is my duty when stamps are manufactured to lay them out in. lots for packing—the two-anna stamps are printed in sheets of 240; and 500 of these sheets are called a ream—on June 4th I laid out four reams ready to be put in a case—I did each ream up in brown paper, and put a label on, showing the quantity and the Government stamp—they were properly packed in the box—I was checked by Mr. Gay, an officer of Inland Revenue.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I count them after they are checked, and I am present at the checking—I check all the Indian stamps which go out from De La Rue's—this is the only lot of two-anna stamps which went out in 1891—the previous assignment went to Bombay about the middle of the year before—we also send two anna stamps to Madras and Calcutta—one consignment went to Madras in June, and one to Calcutta at the same time.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. They are sent out as required—I am sure none were sent to Madras or Calcutta in the early part of this year—more go to Calcutta than Bombay, Calcutta being the capital.
Messrs. De La Rue's—on June 9th I was there, and checked four parcels of Indian stamps, five hundred sheets to the ream, and put the Government seal on the parcel; they were put in the wooden case 2,871 (produced)—it had a tin lining, and was soldered down, and iron bands put on it, and the Government seal—the seals are here—it weighed 66 or 68 lbs.—stamps are sent to India when they are ordered; other stamps were sent out about the same time.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The stamps are all alike, there is no distinguishing letter to show the Presidency to which they go—there are other checkers besides me—for all I know four or five consignments may have gone to India this year—there is no difference in this year's colouring or marking from last year—this is the first larceny of stamps within the last five years as far as I know—these stamps are not circulated in England—I think that anybody having them must be dealing improperly with them—I heard that the Agra Sank had bought them; I should say improperly, knowing them to have been stolen.
FREDERICK PHILLIPS . I am in the employ of De La Rue and Co.—it is my duty to go with vans to the India Depot, Belvedere Road, Lambeth—on 10th June I assisted in removing a case of stamps, amongst other stores, from the house to the van—they were checked by Government officers as they were put on the van—I took them to the India Stores, and delivered them to Basden, the foreman, intact, as I received them—I was in charge of the van.
RICHARD BASDEN . I am foreman at the Indian Stores Depot, Lambeth—on 10th June I received this case from Phillips, intact—the lid and seals were all safe, and it weighed 56 lbs.—I handed it to Nicholls on the 11th—I received with it a certificate of its contents.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. It was one of the first things put on the lighter on Thursday, and a large quantity of goods were put over it—the first parcel would go to the bottom of the barge, and would be the last unloaded.
WILLIAM NICHOLLS . I am a lighterman in the employ of Phillips and Graves, of Botolph Lane, Eastcheap—on June 11th I received several cases and bales from Phillips on board my lighter—I signed for what I received, and took the lighter down to the Royal Albert Dock; I arrived there at 11 a.m. on June 12th, and left the lighter in charge of a watchman—all the goods were intact then—I went to another job.
WILLIAM JAMES WEBB . I am a clerk—I remember the Astrea being in the Albert Dock on 12th June, and the lighter Putney coming alongside, loaded with Government stores for Bombay and other places—I. tallied and checked the goods as they came over the ship's side, and among them was case 2,871—the contents of the barge were taken into the ship in good condition—they would go into the hold in charge of the stevedore.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. They were put on board on the 15th—the barge arrived about 7.20 on Monday morning, but a portion was taken out, not by me—I believe this was was there on the Monday morning—it is possible that persons can get on board the ship at meal times—the first I had to do with her was on the 18th—I do not think the foremen could get down into the hold at meal-times—I am not there at the general meal-time—the ship is not deserted at meal-times by the
ship's company—there are many eases in which nobody is watching, and I should think the firemen could get down into the hold.
Re-examined. I cannot say whether the barge commenced unloading on the 13th, because some of the goods w» re taken out by another clerk—I do not recollect how much was left on Monday morning—my book was finished at 8 a m. on Monday—the Astrea was alongside the quay—the stevedore would be in the hold while the goods were being stowed away—I do not know Ashton.
JAMES ALEXANDER HAMILTON . I live at 10, Suffolk Street, Poplar, and am a stevedore—I was employed by Mr. Charlton. master stevedore, to superintend the lading of the Astrea at the Royal Albert Dock; we began on 8th June, and finished on the 17th at 3 a.m.—she went out of dock about 8 a.m., I believe—I engaged the labourers for the lading; Ashton was one—he began to work on the 8th, and worked from one end of the ship to the other—on 12th or 13th June, as near as I can remember, he wan working about No. 2 and No. 1 holds in the fore part of the ship—he had charge of the port-side, and I believe three men worked under him on that side—I remember a lot of Government stores coming alongside; I cannot say when they were put on board, because I had so much of it just on the finish—Ashton left off work at 5 p.m. on Monday—he did not return; the gang was told to return at ten, and all turned up except Ashton—on the following morning, at 6.45, I paid him his wages; he said that on the previous evening he went out to tea and had a drink of beer, and did not feel fit to come back—he did not work on board the ship after Monday—I did not see him after the Tuesday till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I made no attempt to see him—on Tuesday morning he came and asked for his money, and I gave it to him—he was not on the stand when I took the men on, and I had to take on someone in his place—I never saw Ashton the worse for liquor—I have known him four or five years working at ships—I believe he is pretty well known, the people call him Long Alf—I don't know if he is a bit of a spouter at public meetings; I never heard him speak—I have heard him say he has been chairman of a meeting or two—as far as I know he has borne the character of a highly honest and respectable workman; I have not found out anything detrimental to him—he left at five o'clock on this Saturday—we call the men up at five o'clock, and generally give them five or ten minutes to put the hatches on, so that they can catch an early train up—they are paid when the hatches are up, as soon as they get on the quay side; that takes a few minutes—they get away before 5.20—the Liverpool public-house in Canning Town is, I think, a mile and a half from this ship; I never tried how long it takes walking—a train runs right through—the Canning Town station is about two minute's or a minute's walk from the Liverpool; it is not half a mile—from the Ferry, North Woolwich, to the Liverpool is about a mile and a half by train to North Woolwich station—there are four stations in between, very close together—I do not say anything about the distance.
Re-examined. I have seen Ashton working at various places in the docks for four or five years; I have not seen him doing any work there since he worked on the Astrea—Manor Way is the station nearest to the
Royal Albert Docks, and from there to Canning Town station is seven or eight minutes.
By MR. WARBURTON. I cannot say whether in July and September Ashton was working with the River Plate boats; I have not heard it.
ROBERT GAIETY . I belong to East Hartlepool, and was donkey engineman on the Astrea when she was loading in the Royal Albert Docks in June—I worked the donkey engine for the steam winches by which the bales and other things were taken on board—I knew Ashton as Long Alf; I saw him working in No. 2 hold—on Friday or Saturday, 12th or 13th, I saw him come out of No. 2 hold and go down into the fireman's forecastle—I followed him down, and he pulled from underneath his shirt a large quantity of blue postage stamps in sheets about 2 feet by I—I think they were like these—no one else were present—he gave me four sheets, two good ones and two that were torn—he only said they would be good for me when we got to India—he put the remainder under his shirt again, or placed them round his waist, and went on deck; I don't know whether he went on shore with them, I think he did—I put the stamps he gave me in my berth—I saw him on the Saturday night against the ferry on the Essex side, the same side as our ship was lying, going across to Woolwich; he was with Egan and Stevenson—it was between 5 and 6 p.m.—the four of us went and had a drink, and went across in the Ferry together—I don't remember seeing Ashton after that—I sailed in the ship to Bombay on the following Wednesday—we mopped at Port Said—no one went ashore there that I am aware of—at Bombay part of the cargo was discharged, and we went on to Kurrachee—I sold two and a half sheets of the stamps I got from Ashton, to a native on shore in Bombay, for 11 rupees; a rupee is only 18d.—the rest of the stamps I burnt—at Kurrachee I was taken ashore.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I said before the Magistrate that it was on Friday afternoon he gave me the stamps—it was either Friday or Saturday—it was on the Saturday I saw him at the Ferry—I know nothing about the barges—he took the stamps from between his shirt and his body; I don't know if they were next to his skin or sticking to his body; they might have been between his flannel and his shirt; I wear two flannel shirts in June—I was punished with fourteen days in India, for something connected with these stamps—it was not till after I was charged there that I said a word about Ashton—I did not know him before this—he was a stranger to me, and he came and gave me the stamps—I don't know if they were stolen from the ship—when I was punished in India I never thought I was going to be brought back to give evidence; I thought I had heard the last of it—I thought it would be rather convenient to shelter myself behind his name—I mentioned it before I was punished—I did not think I should get less punishment by doing so—they asked us where he got the stamps from, and I told them I did not know they were stolen, and I was innocent—on the Monday after this transaction I was at work on the Astrea—I had a drink with Ashton on the Saturday—I did not open this box, nor take the stamps out, nor stamp this on it—I did not ask anybody to leave the case when I was at dinner on the Monday, and that afterwards I would fasten it down—I never did anything to the case—I never saw it before that I am aware of—I did not state to anybody that I sealed it down, and used a shilling to seal the wax.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. After leaving London we took a pilot, who went with us below Gravesend, I think—after that the next communication our ship had with the shore was at Port Said; there the people who put coal on board and have things to sell, come on board, so that there would be no difficulty in anybody sending anything back to England—the crew, when writing home, post letters at Port Said, giving them to the captain—you could give it to a coolie if you had a stamp; you would not trust a coolie to get a stamp.
Re-examined. I had no business in the hold of the Astrea when it was being loaded, and did not go there at all—my duties were in the stokehole—I corrected my evidence before the Magistrate, and said, "I am not sure whether it was the Friday or Saturday the stamps were given to me"—I was recalled for that purpose—I was taken from Kurrachee to Bombay, and charged with being in unlawful possession of two stamps—I was punished, and that is now all over—I came here voluntarily to give evidence.
EDWARD HARGREAVES . I am a fireman on the Astrea—I started work on the ship on the 9th, and signed articles on 12th June—about the 11th I saw Ashton working on board—on Saturday evening, 13th, I saw him at the Liverpool Arms, Canning Town—I was with Stevenson and Egan, two more firemen of the Astrea—we drank together—Ashton came outride and handed me ten or eleven two-anna stamps; he said they would be some use to me when I got to Bombay—he was not sober—I put the stamps in my pocket—he said he could get more if I wanted them, and it would double my pay—I remained behind at Canning Town while the others went away—next day, Sunday, I met him coming back from the Greengate public-house—I met him in the Greengate, he was sober—I went to Bombay on the Astrea—I threw half the stamps that he gave me away, and burnt the others—I did not speak to Gaiety about this matter till we got to Bombay—we were taken by the police at Kurrachee—I had no stamps when they came on board.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I was punished in India at the same time as Gaiety; I got fourteen days—I was guilty of receiving the stamps; I was drunk when I received them—we were all tolerably drunk that evening at the public-house—I remember what happened—Egan, Stevenson, Gaiety and I were all firemen in the ship—I was not drinking with Ashton at Canning Town very long on the Saturday, not two hours—I do not know that gentlemen coming from the East sometimes have two-anna stamps left in their purses and give them to the men who help to unload their luggage; I never had any given to me in that way—I don't know how many public-houses I went into on that Saturday night.
Re-examined. Gaiety stood treat the night we went into the public-house.
JOHN EGAN . I was a fireman on the Astrea on her last voyage—I knew Ashton as Long Alf working on board the Astrea in the Royal Albert Dock—on the Saturday before we sailed, I went out with Stevenson and Hargreaves. and we went to the Liverpool Arms, Canning Town—outside we met Long Alf, and we all went in together and had some drinks—Ashton pulled something out of his inside pocket and offered me about nine blueish stamps, something like these, in a piece of paper, and Hargraves put out his hand and took them—Ashton said, "These are no good to me; these will get you a drink when you reach
Bombay"—after we left the Liverpool Arms we went across to Woolwich, and met Gaiety and the late boatswain—I came back with Ashton—I did not see him after that night till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I, Hargreaves, and Gaiety are shipmates, we were not friends before we signed on the boat—Gaiety was not with us—we had had three or four drinks; we were not drunk—when Ashton offered these stamps we were not extra drunk, we knew what we were doing—the stamps were wrapped in a piece of printed paper—I saw the paper opened—Ashton said nothing about doubling wages with me; I was not with him that time; there was a lot in the house—we three were standing together in the public-house all the time—this was on Saturday—I did not give "evidence at Bombay—I did not know the stamps were stolen, I thought they were all right; I wanted to take them—I did not know anything about them—I did not volunteer to give evidence, because they did not ask me; I did not offer myself—I was at Kurrachee, and they were taken to Bombay.
THOMAS DEMPSEY . I am a fireman on the Astrea—I joined her in the Albert Pocks the day she sailed—before or after we left Port Said, Hargreaves showed me about a dozen two-anna stamps—I was in the ship at Kurrachee when he was arrested.
EDWARD JAMES DOHERTY . I am chief mate on the Astrea—at Kurrachee the captain spoke to me—one of the native labourers, who had been working in the hold of the ship, showed we some two-anna stamps—in consequence, I went into No. 2 hold and made a search—I found on the port-side some broken stamps loose in the hold; I gave them to the captain—after that the police came on board and removed Gaiety and Hargreaves—I searched the ship—during the voyage, from the time we left the docks, no one could very well get access to the hold; a member of the crew could not without our seeing him—the hold was not open at Port Said, Gravesend, or any port on the voyage out—part of the cargo was discharged at Bombay.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. It was on 2nd or 3rd July I noticed these stamps, fifteen and a half or sixteen days out from London.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. The ship went to Bombay first in India, and then to Kurrachee, and then back to Dunkirk—the two men were arrested on board at Kurrachee and taken back to Bombay, I suppose; I don't know where—Egan was on board at the time, and knew of their arrest—I don't know whether, if he had expressed a wish to give evidence for them, he would have been allowed to go, or if he said anything when his friends were arrested.
ALFRED MALPAS . I am a greengrocer, of 9, Victoria Dock Road, Canning Town—at the end of July or beginning of August Ashton came to my shop and purchased a pound of tomatoes—he had been there once or twice previously, and owed me threepence or fourpence—I think he left me about seven or eight of these Indian stamps; this sort of thing, but in about three strips, as if they had been put into a foolscap envelope—three or four days afterwards, I think, he called; he said he had no work—he said, "I am not able to pay you that fourpence," and he called me outside and then gave me about 120 or 130 stamps of the same kind, wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, and asked me if I would lend him half-a-crown on these till he got work—I did so—he did not pay me back the fourpence, he owes me 2s. 10d. to this day—I have known
Ashton for twelve or fifteen years, and have lent him money before; I have not had security for it, he has always paid me back honourably—about a fortnight afterwards I met him in the street; I had heard a rumour about the stamps, and I gave them back to him; I said, "I don't think these are all right"—he said, "They are all right, Fred, I would not take you in; they are all right"—I said, "I don't think they are; my wife is kicking up a bother about them, you take them back again, and I will not have anything to do with them; what good are they to me?"—he said he had had remittances from India, and these were all in long strips—what I had were all put into a foolscap envelope—I handed him back the stamps, and I never saw him after that.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I have been a greengrocer for four years, I think—I have have also been occupied in the docks—I was not employed there when these stamps are alleged to have been stolen—my last employment there was on 18th November, twelve months back—I was in the service of W. Ross and Co.; they discharged me because I lost some tin—they brought the man back and prosecuted him at Stratford—I was for seven years with the Ross and the Hill Lines up to 18th November—I was discharged from the Hill Line through illness; it was not caused by excessive drinking—there were not complaints about my being drunk; my illness was nervous debility; you can put it that was another word for delirium tremens, if you like; hut you work day and night and see what it is—I did not know the tramps were wrong—I read the case in the paper when it was before the Magistrate: but did not know this was the case—I did not know it was Ashton who was being tried; I did not know he was taken up—the police afterwards came to me, and directly they spoke to me I explained the matter; I was only too glad to get rid of them.
Re-examined. At the time he borrowed the half-crown he found no fault with my character.
WALTER DINNE (Inspector, Scotland Yard). I have been acting with Richards in this case—about nine p.m. on 15th September I saw Ashton close to Canning Town Railway Station—I said, "What is your name?"—he said, "My name is Ashton; but why do you ask?"—I said, "We are police-officers, and I hold a warrant for your arrest, for stealing a quantity of two-anna Indian stamps in June last"—he said, "Where?"—I said, "Either in the Royal Albert Docks or on board the steam-ship Astrea"—he said, "It is a good job I left off work at five o'clock on that day"—I had not mentioned any day—I said, "Do you mean Monday?"—he said, "No, I was not at work on Monday; it was Saturday; I don't know anything about it; I am innocent"—I read the warrant to him; he said, "All right, I will go with you quietly, but I don't know anything about it"—I said, "You are sometimes called Long Alf, are you not?"—he said, "Yes, I am known as Long Alf"—on the way to Bow Street he said, "Who has said anything about me?"—I said, "Two firemen, named Hargreaves and Gaiety"—he said, "I don't know them."
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I am not aware that it was tolerably well known that there had been a robbery; I cannot say whether it was known among these people—I had not been mixing with the people in that neighbourhood—I had only made inquiries there in respect of this matter.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The police in England heard of the robbery at the end of July, or beginning of August—I saw no communication in the public press that stamps had been lost, with a description of them, or a warning to people against taking them.
JOHN SAMUEL MAIDMENT . I am Assistant Superintendent of Stamps at Bombay, and have come over here in connection with this case—the two-anna stamps are used for postage of letters or parcels in India—the postage to England is 2 1/2 annas, and in India from 1/4 anna upwards—there is a special 2 1/2 anna stamp for England and special stamps for India—I received information in July with regard to the robbery of stamps, and on 25th July I was appointed on a committee to examine case 2871, which arrived by the Astrea—the tape on one of the seals was broken. and the iron bands and the inside tin-lining had been cut—there should have been in it 2,000 sheets of stamps; I only found 499 sheets, 299 stamps were missing—the wrapper of the second package had also been torn, and 148 sheets and six stamps were missing from it; the value was 19,440 rupees, about £ 1,500 in English money—when weighed in India the dock weight was 1 qr. 24lb.—I have never known that kind of stamps to be sold in large quantities—we have not missed any other stamps—two-anna stamps are not used in any other country but India—small numbers of two-anna stamps may have been sent to England, but certainly never such a large number—on the arrival of the steamer they are issued in small quantities to the different post-offices, of which there are a large number.
Cross-examined. Any other stamps of the same value would do for India.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The rupee in England is worth about 1s. 7d.; we never get 2s. for it in India.
THOMAS ARTHUR COLLS . I am principal clerk in the Comptroller of Stamps' Department, Somerset House—all stamps circulated in India are manufactured in this country under the direction of the Commissioners, and despatched as required; they are never sold in this country by the authority of the Inland Revenue—no stock is kept; they are manufactured as they are required—no other lot of two-anna stamps has been sent to Bombay this year—another lot was sent from the factory at the same time to Calcutta and Madras—consignments were sent to all these Presidencies in October last.
THOMAS FREDERICK ROTHER . I am manager of the banking depart-ment of Cook and Son, Ludgate Hill; that is the head office; they have a branch in Gracechurch Street—the prisoner Humphries was the manager of the exchange department of the bank—we do a considerable business in changing money for persons going out and arriving home, and keep a record of the transactions—on 20th June I purchased £70 worth of two-anna stamps at 1s. 2 1/2 d. the rupee—they would have to be sent to India to have any value at all—on 22nd June I purchased 180 rupees' worth, at the same rate, £10 17s. 6d.—on July 3rd I received a telephone message from the City Bank; I believe I spoke with Humphries through the telephone; he said that they had bought about fifty rupees of Indian stamps, and asked whether they should be sold in London or be remitted to Bombay—this (produced) is a note of the message—I instructed him to remit those he had bought to the Bombay branch, but not to buy any more—we have a branch in
Bombay—later on I received another message from Humphries, stating that a large amount of Indian stamps was offered to him, and asking whether he should purchase them—I instructed him not to buy them—he said that he had the assurance of the Agra Bank that they believed them to be quite good—I said that he must not buy them—my suspicions were aroused that they were forged, and on July 4th I sent him this letter: "Please do not buy Indian stamps in the event of any being offered; several have been offered here which we fear are forgeries. Yours truly, T. F. R."—I sent the same communication round to all the London branches—I heard no more till I was communicated with by the police—I did not authorise any sale of stamps to the Agra Bank—the prisoner would account for whatever balance there was against him at the time of accounting—these would be coin, cheques, and notes—he once passed his own cheque through his account—this slip is in the writing of Hillier, one of the clerks; I find on it a cheque on the Agra Bank for £37 19s. 9d., drawn by Thomas Cook and Son, on July 9, 1891, to bearer—I gave him no authority to sell these stamps in the name of Thomas Cook and Son to the Agra Bank—I have examined the books of the Gracechurch Street branch and find no such purchase—our bank is the London and South-Western—it is payable to Thomas Cook and Son; this crossing was put on at our head office—I find no entry—there is no trace in the books of what the chequewas paid for—it comes to me as cash.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The cheque was crossed with a general crossing, and it has been specially crossed "Not negotiable" in our office—Humphries had to forward money and receive money; he had under him two young men, Harper and Hillier—I have been with Cook and Son fifteen years; they deal in French, German, and English Colonial stamps—I have bought Indian stamps before this across the counter, and have forwarded them to our branch establishment in India—when I heard about other stamps being forged I thought these were forgeries—a paying-in slip was sent to me—money is all sent to the head office and paid in to them—on the paying-in slip the £37 13s. 3d. is merely marked "Agra"—if a cheque for £50 was sent, it would not be stated on it what it was for—our books are not professionally audited—the prisoner keeps a rough book; a "bought and sold" book, and a bookin which he enters his cash balances—the ledger is kept at the head office—English money is balanced every day, and foreign money every ten days, and the books were open to his superiors whenever they came down—deficiencies have arisen and surpluses also which we could not account for at the time—we keep a surplus fund, it belongs to the firm; it is money over in the cash; it arises from carelessness—in this account of Humphries' other persons had access to the money—I went to Humphries on 17th July, and compared the books with the balance; the deficiency was about £46—he could not account for it—we thought it was carelessness; I rebuked him and kept him on—the stamps were sold by a man, it was really all one transaction—he gave no name or address; he sold them across the counter; there was nothing suspicious in that—Humphries had the very highest testimonials; a good deal would be left to his discretion—he met with a very bad accident towards the end of last year; he ran a spike through a very delicate portion of his body, and was three or four weeks
in bed—he is suspended now—on 13th July I found the cheque dated July 9th debited against him balancing* that day's transactions.
Re-examined. On 13th July he would have a certain amount to account for, and on that day's transactions he was 18s. short—there is no record in the books of a transanction with the Agra Bank—he said that the man said the Indian stamps had been sent to him out of spite in payment of a debt, that he suggested sending them to India, but after some discussion the man left them and agreed to bring the rest on Monday—1s. 2 1/2 d. was a fair price for them.
HERBERT CROSBIE HARPER . I am a clerk to Messrs. Cook and Son, at their Gracechurch Street office, of which Humphries was manager—I was under him—I remember some two-anna Indian stamps being brought there and bought on behalf of the firm—I keep this book—on 29th June a man came who gave the name of C. French; he was a stout man, with a slightly grey moustache and grey hair, slightly bald, of rather a florid complexion, and having the appearance of a sea captain—he was dressed in dark blue—to the best of my belief Humphries was there at the time—French offered a sheet of two-anna Indian postage stamps over the counter for sale—Humphries said he would give him half-price for them—the man demurred to that, but eventually he gave in—17s. 6d. was given for 239 stamps, worth 29 rupees 14 annas; it was a complete sheet, with the exception of one stamp—after the man had left, Humphries made a jocular remark, to the effect that the man might have stolen them, from his appearance, and as he had accepted our price so easily—the price was about sevenpence to the rupee—on 2nd July French came again (I believe Humphries was present), and he offered another complete sheet of two-anna stamps; they were taken and 16s. 8d. given for them, which was at the rate of 6 1/2 d., I think—French came again, and brought in eight or a dozen sheets; it might have been the same as the first lot—Humphries said if he left them with him he would get him a price for them, or something to that effect, and French left them in the office—about that time I heard a conversation through the telephone between Humphries and Bother—I believe about that time I had a conversation with Humphries after I returned from Ludgate Hill, with regard to the firm not having accepted—Humphries said he thought it was very silly of them not letting him do any business with these stamps, as the Agra Bank had offered him 1s. 5d. the rupee for them, and that he should do it himself—I cannot say for certain when the man gave the name of C. French—the name and address, "C. French, 3 1/4, Dalmain Road, Forest Hill, "as it was written down, was filed in the office—I think when he brought in the third lot, it was rather a large amount—French said the stamps had been sent home from India in payment of a debt—when French returned, after these stamps had been lying in the office, Humphries, to the best of my belief, went out with him—a few days after that I was sent to the Agra Bank, where I was given this cheque for £37 13s. 9d., which I brought back to the office—Humphries did not tell me what it was for—I signed this receipt at the bank for it; it says, "For eighteen sheets of postage stamps"—I may have seen that at the time—after that, French came to the office about a dozen times, and Humphries went out with him—there are only entries in the books of two purchases of these stamps; there is no record of the transactions with the Agra Bank.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I gave this receipt for the cheque, "Eighteen sheets postage stamps. Reed, cheque for Thomas Cook and Sons, H. C. Harper"—I received the cheque from the cashier, and left the receipt with him—it appears on the face of the receipt that the money was given for Indian postage stamps—I had been about a month with Messrs. Cook and Sons when the first deal about these postage, stamps took place—Cook and Sons are registered bankers and could have cashed a crossed cheque—the prisoner did not tell me to ask for an open, cheque—Richards first asked me about the conversation which I had with the prisoner in the office; it was about the end of October or the beginning of November—I told him it was so long ago I had not a very accurate recollection; I did not remember much—my impression was that when he said the man must have stolen them he did it in a jocular chaffing manner—Ashton is not the kind of man who came into the bank on any of these occasions—I have seen a good number of seafaring people, and the man who came struck me as being a sea captain—I continue at the Gracechurch Street branch—the practice of that branch is to give half-price for all foreign stamps in small quantities, except German and French; we give a higher, a special price for larger quantities—I could not say for certain if the name and address were filed immediately after 29th June; about a week after I made some remark as to whether the man was right or not; the defendant said he was all right, he had given his name and address—the matter made no impression on me, and I do not remember very well what took place—the prisoner was asked not to deal with these stamps, because the firm thought they were forgeries—the prisoner said he would back his opinion; he had taken the opinion of the Agra Bank, and they thought they were not forgeries, and he would have a deal himself if the company did not—the sea captain came in like an ordinary customer in the day-time—he went to the Tiptree—he has come into the office while other persons have transacted business at the counter.
Re-examined. I saw him lunching with Mr. Humphries—he has gone out of the office with him several times; it was not unusual for him to do so—he very often goes out with customers—when Humphries sent me to the Agra Bank he told me to ask for a cheque for Thomas Cook and Sons—I did not know that Cook and Sons had sold no stamps; I often call for cheques at different places, and I don't inquire who they are for—I daresay I knew they had not sold any stamps to the bank, but I don't remember now having seen on the paper that the cheque was for eighteen sheets of stamps; I cannot say I noticed it—half-price is given for stamps to people selling a few, a franc's worth, say—it is very unusual to get a sheet of stamps.
CHARLES HENRY MONTES HILLIER . I am a clerk in the employ of Messrs. Cook and Sons, at their office in Brussels—formerly I was at their office in Gracechurch Street, and was there when the first and second lots were sold—a lot of stamps were brought there and left by French—I took them to the Agra Bank at Humphries' desire, to cash and leave them, he said—the first and second lots were sent direct to Bombay, and charged the full price—I saw the directions from Ludgate Circus that no more stamps were to be bought—Humphries said that as the Agra Bank would take them he would risk buying them.
Blomfield House, London Wall—I knew Humphries some years as employed at Messrs. Cook and Sons—he called on me on 15th July—I was at 6, Lombard Court then—he said, "I can put some business in your way"—I said, "I am obliged; what is the nature of it?"—he said, "I have got some stamps to sell"—I said, "What stamps are they?"—he said, "Indian stamps, which were brought to me by a customer; I think you can sell them"—I said, "Is the business perfectly regular, and are the stamps in order?"—he said, "Yes, perfectly"—I said, "Do you know your customer?"—he said, "Yes, he has been at the office in Gracechurch Street on several occasions"—I said, "Do you know his name and address?"—I wrote it down—I said, "Why don't you buy the stamps for your firm?"—he said, "The firm has already bought several lots of these stamps; I bought one or two lots at Grace-church Street; I have received instructions not to buy any more"—the address given me was, "C. French, 31, Dalmaine Road, Forest Hill"—he kept a lodging-house near the docks, and said he bought the stamps of sailors who lodged there—he gave me a parcel of two-anna Indian stamps, in perfect sheets, value between £9 and £10, and asked me to sell them and hand him the proceeds—I agreed, and took them to Messrs. Keiser's, the moneychangers in Cornhill, and sold them for 1s. 3 1/2 d. the rupee—I mentioned the name of Mr. Hornier, but he was away at the time—I got £9 15s. 5d. for them, and gave it to Humphries, at my office, in cash, in the afternoon, and he gave me £1 2s. 6d.—three or four days afterwards he brought a second lot of two-anna stamps, in sheets; some were in single sheets—that was double the first quantity—he said he got them from the same party—I handed them to my clerk, Dixon, who brought me a cheque from Keiser and Co.—I met Humphries the same afternoon, near his office in Gracechurch Street, and showed him the cheque, it was for £18 Os. 4d., and in favour of Napoleon Argles and Co.—he said he did not want to pass it through his firm's bank, and asked me to pass it through my bank, which I did—I was paid £2 5s.—he showed me a postcard, and said he had written to Mr. French to call for the money, offering him one-fourth of the money—he said he had been offered three hundred sheets of the stamps—afterwards, in consequence of something which came to my knowledge, I saw Humphries, and told him that there was something wrong about it; that I had seen Mr. Best, Mr. Hargraves' partner, who had questioned me on the matter, and asked him to meet me next day at eleven o'clock at Lombard Court, to corroborate my statement to Mr. Best—Humphries did not come; but I afterwards met him and Mr. Best accidentally, and went up to them, and Mr. Best said he had questioned him about it, and he said he knew nothing about it—I said, "Surely, Humphries, you do not deny it?"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "Well, one man's word is as good as another's"—Mr. Best said, "One of you is telling a lie," and went away—I then said to Humphries, "Why do you deny knowing anything about this matter?"—he said, "Mr. Best is a stranger to me, and I will not admit anything in his presence"—I have heard Humphries's statement read; it is not true that I was in the office at Gracechurch Street when French came; I never saw him; I do not know him.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not see Inspector Richards
till nearly a month after ho called at Lombard Street, in August—he never called on me—I saw him at Bow Street for the first time—I first mentioned Humphries's name to the prisoner a day or two after Richards came to Lombard Court—I do not think Humphries said, "Mr. Best is a stranger to me, and I will not discuss the matter in his presence"—I think he used the word "admit," but it is three months ago—at the time he came to me about the stamps he owed me about £30—he said, "I can put business in your way"—I was to get a commission, and he, too—he called on me at my office in Lombard Court, in the same building as Mr. Argles lives, and on the same floor—I know Mr. Argles; he was away in Pans—I had used his name before, with his consent—I did not ask his partner, Mr. Best, whether I might use his name; I did not think it necessary—Humphries said he had been to the Agra Bank, and satisfied himself tint the stamps were in order—I asked him about the man from whom he got them—he said he was a man who had been calling at Gracechurch Street several times—I remember Humphries meeting with a severe accident, which kept him in bed some time.
MR. GEOGHEGAN to Hillier. I said before the Magistrate, "In the month of June a man came into the office with Indian stamps; I was alone, and could not buy them; the man stopped in the office; I told Humphries I had offered 8d. per rupee for them; he said he should risk the selling of them, if he did not somebody else would"—before he bought them I said, "If I were in your place I would risk buying them."
By MR. GILL. When the offer of 8d. per rupee was made, Humphries was to complete the transaction—he paid 16s. or 17s., and after the man had gone he said it was a bargain, and asked me if I thought the stamps were forgeries.
JOHN WHITEMAN . I am cashier to Messrs. Keiser and Co., foreign bankers, of 21, Cornhill—in July Humphries came and asked if I would make him a quotation for foreign stamps—I knew he was connected with Cook and Sons—I declined to have anything to do with them—-after that, on 17th July, some one came with 150 rupees worth of two-anna stamps, which I bought for £9 13s. 9d.; and on 20th July I bought 279 rupees worth for £ 18 0s. 4d.—I gave a cheque payable to Napoleon Argles and Co.; the stamps were supposed to come from them—Argles and Co. we employ as solicitors.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. When Mr. Argles' name was mentioned I thought it was his personal transaction, and that the stamps came from him, and he was anxious to sell them—if it had not been for that I should not have bought them—I think Humphries only asked for a quotation; I did not see the stamps on that occasion.
HENRY GEORGE BEST . I am a solicitor—I and my partner carry on business as Napoleon Argles and Co., 6, Lombard Court—Neumann was formerly an under-tenant of mine of a room on my floor—I first heard of these stamps through Richards calling on me—afterwards I saw Neumann, and then I accidentally met Humphries—I said to him, "I understood from Mr. Neumann that you were to call and see me this morning at eleven"—he said, "What about? I know of no appointment"—I said, "About some Indian stamps which have been stolen"—he said,
"I know nothing whatever about any Indian stamps," and he repudiated all knowledge of being connected in any way with any stamps which had been stolen—he said he knew nothing about any appointment—Mr. Neumann, by an extraordinary coincidence, came along the lane—I said, "Neumann, Mr. Humphries repudiates all knowledge of those stolen Indian stamps"—they looked at each other, and Neumann said, "I must leave you to say which is telling the truth"; I said, "One of you is telling a lie, and I will have nothing whatever to do with it," and I walked away.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Beyond a casual meeting with Humphries he was a stranger to me—I never had any business transactions with him—I saw Richards on a Monday morning about the third week in August—he called because he found the cheque payable to Argles and Co., and I offered to assist the police at once.
ROBERT WILLIAM CARTER . I am chief cashier at the Agra Bank, Nicholas Lane—I know Humphries by sight—he came to the bank on 9th July and brought a parcel of two-anna stamps, value 540 rupees, and asked me to purchase them; he represented that Thomas Cook and Sons desired to sell them—we had had very extensive transactions with Messrs. Cook—I showed them to the assistant general manager for India, who had just returned, whe said they were proper stamps, and I purchased them at 1s. 4 3/4 d., the current rate of exchange, deducting 1/4 d. for additional postage; they came-to £37 13s. 9d.—if I had not believed they were from Messrs. Cook I would not have bought them—the cheque was made out to Thomas Cook and Sons; we had not bought stamps from them before, but we bought a few from a bank.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I mean Indian stamps in sheets—the only doubt in my mind was whether they were forgeries—I had heard no rumour of any robbery of stamps—I first heard about the middle of November that there was something wrong about these stamps; no notice or warning had been given from August 27th.
Re-examined. We bought email parcels of two-anna Indian stamps on 29th June, 21st July, and 14th November this year, and sent them out to India—we did not receive any communication from India afterwards; the first we heard of it was from Scotland Yard.
CHARLES RICHES (Police Inspector Scotland Yard). I have had the conduct of this inquiry from its commencement, and have been to France, Switzerland, and India—it came to my knowledge that the stamps were being dealt with in London and other places—on 13th November I was with Inspector Denny and saw Humphries—I said, "Humphries, we are police officers from Scotland Yard; I find you have had dealings with stolen postage stamps at 99, Gracechurch Street, and I want you to tell us what you know of this"—he then made a statement which Inspector Dinnie took down—I handed it to Humphries; he read it through, and marked each page and signed it—he said he did not know what to say, so I asked him questions, and these are his answers—when he had finished he had not said anything about the Agra Bank, and I said, "Now, just tell us, have you dealt with any more in the City?"—he leaned his head on his hand for ten minutes
—I said, "Can't you tell whether you have or not?"—he said, "Yes, I have," and finished the statement about the Agra Bank—on the 21st we went to him again, and I said, "Humphries, I have been instructed to apprehend you for receiving upwards of 10,000 Indian postage stamps, knowing them to have been stolen; one lot, 240, was in July; 1,200 on July 17th; 232 on July 20th; 4,320 on July 29th; 239 on June 27th; and 114 on some date that I can't give now"—he said, "It is a lie; I have told you all I know of the matter"—I searched him, and found this book (produced), in which is entered, "Clarke, 44, Chantler Road, Custom House, Victoria Dock"—he said, "I can't go with you now," and I left an officer with him—he was taken on the 23rd to Bow Street Police-station and charged; he made no reply—in consequence of Clarke's address in the memorandum-book, on 24th, at 9.30 am., the prisoner Clarke answered the door—I said, "Your name is Clarke?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I made an appointment with you last night through your wife"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Well, a man named Humphries is in custody for receiving a large quantity of stolen Indian postage-stamps, and he got them from you; where did you get them from?"—he said, "I got them from a man named Smith, who used to lodge with me; he came to me in September, 1890, and left in January, 1891. He said he came from India, and he sent me the stamps from Bombay in July last to pay a debt he owed me of £20 for lodgings. He sent me about 400 rupees' worth; I can't say the exact amount; I sold some of them at Cook's, at the corner of Gracechurch Street, and some at a money-changer's near the Bank of England. I have an entry of Smith's name in my books; sometimes my wife books the names of the lodgers. I don't know any address at which Smith stopped at Bombay, and I have not got the letter he sent Mr. I think I got £19 for the stamps; it may be more, or a little less. I took two lots to Cook's the first time, 150 rupees' worth, and the next 200 or 260; I received about £16 for them"—I said, "Considering 400 rupees may mean about £40, I don't believe what you say, and I shall take you in custody for receiving the stamps, knowing them to have been stolen; they were stolen in London in June, from the Astrea, in the Royal Albert Docks"—he is a stevedore's labourer, and he lets two or three furnished rooms—I took him to Bow Street, and as we drove through Cornhill we passed Kuld and Co. 's, No. 16, and he pointed to the window, on which the name was, and said, "That is the place I sold them at, near the Bank of England"—I went to India to make inquiries, and brought Gaiety and Hardy back.
Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. "When I got this pocket-book I had already had Humphries' statement on 13th November—Clarke's name is mentioned in it, but no address; the only description of him is, "Clean shaven"—it is usual to cross-examine persons until we take them in custody, because we cannot tell without—I said, "Come, now, you own," but I had no more reason for thinking he was guilty than innocent—this is an address book, there are memoranda in it; it is about equally divided—I have not called at the addresses mentioned in it—it was not because I found Clarke's address in it that I called; it was because he mentioned Clarke in his statement of November 13th—the pocket-book was found on the 21st—I had been to India before I arrested Clarke—the first I heard of Kuld was what Clarke told me.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Inspector Dinnie and I are of the same rank; a sergeant was also engaged in the matter—the police first heard by cable that two-anna stamps had been stolen from a Government steamer, and the number of stamps—they knew that on 30th July—no communication was made to the banks or the money-changers—I reported each step I took to my superiors—I first heard Humphries' name mentioned about August—if two officers are working together at Scotland Yard, and one goes away, the other takes up the matter—before I went to India I kept nothing back from Dinnie—I told him about Humphries—I was only in India six days—it took me fifteen days to go out; I came back on October 15th—before I went to Humphries I went to Keiser's and to the Agra Bank, and I had seen Mr. Roper, and had been to Coutts—I went to the Agra Bank in consequence of what Humphries told me; I did not know about the Agra Bank before that—the Agra Bank told me first about the cheque for £37 odd—it was almost entirely in consequence of what Humphries said that I was able to trace the cheque to the Agra Bank—when I went with Dinnie to Humphries' house his wife opened the door and said that her husband was dangerously ill, but she qualified it—we were shown upstairs to a bedroom, and saw Humphries sitting in a chair by the bedside—we were asking him questions for about three-quarters of an hour, and said if he was not well enough to go on with hid statement we would call again—I saw that he had met with a severe accident—I had been to Cook's—I was present when Ashton was examined before the Magistrate, Mr. Wontner conducted the case for the prosecution, and made a statement to the Magistrate—Ashton was taken in custody while I was in India—I heard Mr. Wontner say that they intended to call Humphries, but he was too ill to attend—I am pretty certain that it was the evening after Ashton's committal that Mr. Wontner instructed me to go to Humphries, and I took his statement, and gave it to Mr. Wontner—the statement was made in answer to my questions, and Dinnie took the notes—I did not say, "You are talking a lot of rubbish," I had seen Neumann, and I wanted to test his statement and Neumann's too—I did caution him that anything he said might be used in evidence against him; I had not decided to arrest him—I did not tell him the information he was giving was incorrect—I did not press him at all, nor did I say, "You had better."
Cross-examined. by MR. MUIR. Clarke's is a private house; he lets lodgings to common sailors and firemen—one came in when I was there and said lie was staying there till he could get a steward's place—I do not think stewards get higher wages than common sailors—when I saw Clarke's wife she offered to make me up a bed, but she said she did not., expect him home for a week—I suggested that she could find him, and that I had come about the stamps, and probably he had received them from a lodger—he kept the appointment.
Re-examined. Ashton was committed on November 12th, and I saw Humphries the next evening—his statement was voluntary from beginning to end—he was not at home when I went again; I had to wait three quarters of an hour till he came in.
the rupee, and on 24th June another lot at 1s. per rupee, £3, and on 29th June another lot at Is., £4 11s.
Cross-examined by MR. MUM. I do not know the man from whom I bought them, or whether it was the same man on each occasion; for all I know three men may have sold them.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOOHEOAN. We did not ask his name or address for so small an amount—we have bought Indian stamps before, but not £✗ worth—we should take the name and address for £20 worth—the account he gave satisfied me.
Re-examined. There are entries in my books (produced) of the three transactions.
H.G. HABFER (Re-examined). I know Norman; I have done business with him—he came there as a friend of Humphries
Clarke received a good character. ASHTON— GUILTY of larceny. HUMPHRIES and CLARKE— GUILTY of receiving — Judgment respited.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 23rd, 1891.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
136. ROBERT HENRY BATES (65) , Having been adjudged bankrupt, within four months before the presentation of a bankruptcy petition against him, unlawfully and with intent to defraud his creditors did receive £1,100 12s. 6d.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. BODKIN Defended.
During the progress of the case the prisoner stated, in the hearing of the Jury, that he desired to PLEAD GUILTY, and thereupon the Jury found him GUILTY .
MR. KEELING Prosecuted.
JACOB WOOLFREN (Interpreted). I am a sailor, and live at the Sailors' Home, Well Street—on 19th November, about 11.30 p.m., I was by the railway station, Leman Street, going home, and was attacked by three persons; two took hold of my hands and twisted my arms backward, and the prisoner came in front of me and rifled my pockets, and took my watch and chain from my left waistcoat pocket, and from another pocket £7 in gold and 10s. in silver—the others were not coloured men—they all three ran away, and I went home, because I was afraid I should get killed—I was sober—I did not know the prisoner before—I went in search of him next day (Friday) and, as I did not see him, I went on Saturday to the Police-station and gave information—on the Saturday night 1 saw the prisoner in Well Street, near where this happened, and told a constable, who took him in custody—he was very violent, and threatened to cut my liver out—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not come to you on November 17th and say, There is a shipmate of yours," nor take you to a public-house and treat you—I did not give you 2s. because you were chucked out of the Sailors' Home—I never said that it was a Glasgow chap who robbed mo—I never spoke to you on the 20th—you did not ask me for a pipe of tobacco on the 21st, nor did I say that I had got none because I
had been robbed—I never spoke to you on the 21st, nor did I see you near the Sailors' Home—I did not report you at the station for two days, because I did not know the custom.
Re-examined. When I went to the inspector I told him I was robbed of my watch and chain and £7 10s.; he asked if I could identify the man; I said, "Yes," and told him he was a coloured man—that was on Saturday, between five and six o'clock, and I gave him in custody about 8.45.
WALTER WILLERTON (62 H). At 8.40 or 8.45 p.m., on Saturday, 21st, the prosecutor made a communication to me—I went up to the prisoner and tapped him on his shoulder and said, "Wait a moment, I may want you"—he looked in my face and said, "I did not do it, governor"—I said, "Do what?"—he made no answer—I called the prosecutor to me and said, in the prisoner's presence, "Tell me what you have told me before"—he said, "About half-past eleven on Thursday night, in Leman Street, two men caught hold of me and held my hands behind me, and this man took my gold watch and chain, value £15, and £7 10s. in money from my waistcoat pocket"—I told the prisoner that I should take him to the station—he said to the prosecutor, "You f----r, I will rip your b----liver out"—I told him he had better go quietly—I took hold of him; he began to struggle—Tutty came to my assistance, and the prisoner was taken to the station and charged with stealing from the person—when the charge was going to be read over he halloaed and shouted and swore, and said he did not want to hear the charge, and said to the prosecutor he would rip his b----liver out—afterwards he said I was only at the Sailors' Home trying to get a few coppers for his doss, meaning his lodgings—I found on him 1s. 7 1/2 d., two briar pipes nearly new, a silver watch with a broken chain in his inside coat pocket, a book of memoranda, and three sailors' discharges, two in the name of Buckley, and one in that of Andrew Sage—he made no reply to the charge, but kept halloaing and shouting all the time.
Cross-examined. You did not say, "What have I done?"—the prosecutor was about ten yards behind me when I touched you; he was talking to the other policeman; I called him to me—the prosecutor has not paid me, you took all his money and everything; he has not had a halfpenny to live on since he was bound over—I did not tell you a week before that I would have you; that you were sponging on the sailors, and I would have you run in—I don't remember ever speaking to you before except once at the shipping office, in August—the prosecutor made his statement to the Magistrate in English, but he took three times as long as it would otherwise have done, as they had to ask him two or three times over before he could give an answer—I was talking to the prosecutor for three minutes—I had a boy in custody in Langdale Street at 8.30, and I took you at 8.45.
Re-examined. There is no truth in the suggestion that I and the prosecutor got this case up.
By the JURY. This is not the prosecutor's watch, his was gold—he valued his at £15—the prosecutor can speak English, but not too well—I can make him understand by speaking to him two or three times.
I saw Willerton struggling with the prisoner, and assisted him to the station—the prosecutor described the prisoner to me—I could understand him—at the station the prisoner tried to get away, and said he would rip the prosecutor's liver up—I heard the same expression when he was arrested—he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. You would not listen to the charge; the inspector tried to read it three times to you.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am innocent of it altogether; he was talking to me about it on the Friday night, telling me about the robbery."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that his name was Alfred Butley; he asserted his innocence, and declared that the prosecutor and the policemen had got up the case against him. GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
138. ANTONIO BENAGHI (32) , Carnally knowing Elizabeth Andrews, aged fifteen years and six months. MR. H. AVORY and MR. BIRON Prosecuted, and MR. GILL defended.— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the bad character of the girl and the time he had been in prison. — One Month's Imprisonment.
140. PIUS PIRHOFFER and MARTINA PIRHOFFER , Unlawfully suffering Elizabeth Andrews, a girl under sixteen, to be in their house for the purpose of prostitution. PIUS PIRHOFFER PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. AVORY, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against Martina Pirhoffer.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
ANN SOUTHWOOD . I live at 2, McDonald Road, Forest Gate, and am housekeeper to Mr. James Higgs—I had nine ducks; this is one of them, the other I identified at the Police-court—I shut them up at 6 p.m. on 27th November, in the fowl-house at the back of my premises, and abutting into a mews from which it is separated by a brick wall—about 1 a.m. on 28th November I was called up by a constable—I went to my fowl-honse, and missed two ducks, value about 6s.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not recognise the ducks before I saw them.
went up the mews and looked over the wall—I went into the garden of an empty house—the prisoner walked down McDonald Road three times, and the third time he went up the mews, and then left the mews and walked hurriedly away into Field Road—he returned from there, went up the mews again, and scaled the wall into the garden of No. 1, McDonald Road—I crossed the road, and got on to the wall, and saw him in the fowl-house; he could not see me—he came out of the fowl-house, bringing two ducks suspended by their necks—this one I took from him—I got off the wall and concealed myself till he came over, and then I asked him what he had been over there doing—he said, "It is like your impudence asking me such a question; I have been to the mews to ease myself; if I had been in the main road I should have been locked up for it, but because I come down here for decency's sake"—I was in uniform—I asked how he accounted for the ducks in his possession—he said, "I bought them at Leadenhall Market"—he was carrying the ducks alive by their necks—I took him to the front door of 2, McDonald Road, and called up the prosecutrix, who identified the ducks—I took the prisoner to the station—he said there he could not have been there at the time, as he only came by the 12.20 train out of Liverpool Street.
Cross-examined. I did not let you get half a mile from the place before I took you; I took you as you came back over the wall—I made no inquiries about you; you did not ask me to.
MR. BIRON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BIRON Prosecuted, and MR. ROUTH Defended.
MR. ROUTH dated that he could not resist a verdict of common assault.
GUILTY .— Five Days' Imprisonment.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
MORRIS HALEY . I live at 73, Boyd Road, Victoria Dock Road, Canning Town, and am a mineral water maker—on 5th December, about one a.m., I was with my wife in the Victoria Dock Road, and noticed the prisoner and another man pulling the shutter-bars of Mr. Wagner's shop—I was then about five yards off—when we passed them they pretended to be drunk, and left off pulling—at the next corner I stood and looked, and saw them go to the same position and pull on the bars again—the shutters fell down—I walked across; the prisoner ran one way, towards me, and the other man ran the other way—I caught the prisoner, and handed him over to the police; he was sober.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I am sure you are one of the men who pulled the shutters; I can swear to you.
him in the Victoria Dock Road, and saw the prisoner at Mr. Wagner's shop—at the corner I looked round, and paw him pulling the shutter-bar; the shutters fell to the ground; one man ran one way and one the other—my husband walked across and put his hand on the prisoner's shoulder and detained him, and then handed him over to the police.
JOHN WILLETT (K 585). About 1 a.m. on 5th December I was coming out of Nelson Street into Victoria Dock Road and saw Mr. Haley holding the prisoner—he gave him into my custody, saying he found him pulling the bar and shutters down at Wagner's shop—the prisoner said nothing in answer—when I took him into custody he said the man had made a mistake, it was not him at all—I searched, and found on him a skeleton key—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. Mr. Haley had hold of you and brought you to me.
FREDERICK WAGNER . I am a butcher, of 122, Victoria Dock Road—on the night of 4th December I shut up my shop and saw the shutters pulled up; two nuts keeping up the crossbar were in their places—when I came down next morning the shutters were down; the bar had been forced out.
JAMES CUMMINOS (Inspector K). I received information and went to 122, Victoria Dock Road—I noticed that the bar, nine or ten feet long, supporting the shutters had been pulled out from one end and bent—the prisoner pretended to be drunk when he got to the station; he was perfectly sober; fifteen minutes had elapsed.
The prisoner, in his defence, said he was passing the shop on his way home when the constable seized him. GUILTY .*†— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder
MR. PAYNE Prosecuted.
HENRY HOOKHAM . I am a decorator, of 65, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich—in November I had charge of an unoccupied house, 62, Greenwich Road—I left it safely locked up on November 14, at 4.30—I went there again on the 16th, and found the gas fittings pulled down and removed into the breakfast-room; they were worth about £7—the house had been broken into.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Some fittings were taken away, value about thirty-two shillings—a window in the basement was opened.
WILLIAM BUTCHER (192 R). On November 15th I was off duty, and was going home at 1.20 a.m.—I heard a slight noise at 62, Greenwich Road, and listened, but heard nothing more—I waited about fifteen minutes, and a sergeant and constable came—I placed the constable in the rear of the house, and the sergeant in front—I examined
the front door and area door, and found them secure and the windows all fastened—I pushed the catch of the breakfast-room window back with a knife, got in and saw two gas chandeliers and some tubes and shoes—I went into the kitchen and saw the prisoner lying down, making out that he was asleep, and without his shoes—I aroused him and told him I was going to take him to the station, and handed him over to a constable—I went back and examined the house, but saw nobody else—I secured the house and took him to the station—he owned the shoes—on the Monday morning I went to the house with the prosecutor and found that the gas-brackets had been torn down out of each bedroom—I found this knife on the prisoner, and found marks on the window which it would make in forcing the catch back—the prisoner was not sober.
Cross-examined. My knife would not make the marks; it was not so blunt as yours.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was drunk and suffering from sunstroke, and know nothing about it."
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted; MR. SELLS appeared for Giles, and MR. H. AVORY for Laun.
EDWARD COOPER (Detective V). On 6th November, the week before Giles was taken in custody, I was on Barnes Common in plain clothes, and saw Messrs. Marley's van outside the Railway Tavern at Barnes, which is kept by the prisoner Laun—Giles led the pair of horses and van round to the back premises which led to the stable door—a man whom I do not know was in the yard; there was a light in the stable, and a quantity of straw was taken out of the van—I was thirty yards from the back of the premises from the common—a man was carrying a quantity of stuff in a sack—the carman was with the man; it was Giles, to the best of my belief—the sack was brought out empty, and I left before he drove away—on November 13th I was there again with Hutt and Alexander, all in plain clothes, within thirty or forty yards of the premises; and at 6.30 I saw Messrs. Marley's van standing at the Bridge Road front—I did not see it drive up—about seven o'clock Giles came out of the beer-shop, and led the horses and van round to the stable as before—he was joined by a boy, Mr. Simon's son, near the stable door—lights were lit in the stable; Giles let down the tail-board and conveyed about half a truss of loose straw into the stable; his arms were full—he then returned and conveyed a sack from inside the van, an ordinary corn sack; it was apparently half full—the boy stood near—Giles brought out the empty sack, put it into the van, fastened the tail-board up, and went to the horses' heads—we all three
went to Giles, told him we were police-officers, and said, "Have you authority from your employers to leave forage here?" he said, "Yes, it is only a bit of straw"—I said to the boy, "Are you Mr. Laun's son?" he said, "What do you want to know for?" I said, "I am a police-officer; is Mr. Laun within?" he said, "Yes, I live here"—I instructed Hutt to go and ask Mr. Laun to come to me; he came from the front of the house, and I said to him, "Is this your stable?" he said, "Yes;" I said, "I found this man delivering forage here;" he said to Giles, "Oh, what have you put in here?"—Giles said, "It is only a bit of straw from the bottom of my van"—I told him he would be charged with stealing forage, the property of his employers; he made no reply, but when I told Laun the charge, Giles said, "I have a right to give the straw away"—I charged Laun with receiving it, knowing it to have been stolen; he made no reply—I said, "I shall take possession of that," pointing to the straw—I pointed to the bin, where there was a quantity of provender, and said that I should take possession of it; Laun dived his hand into the bin sixteen or eighteen inches, and said, "You are not going to take this away," and brought out a sieve; I told him to leave it alone, but he dived his hand in again, apparently to mix it—I took him away from the bin—I took this provender (produced), nearly half a sack, from about the depth he brought up the sieve from—about a quarter of a sack remained—I then, in his presence, took this sample of that which was underneath—I am acquainted with horse provender; the samples from above and underneath do not correspond—I placed the straw in the empty sacks in the van, and told Laun he would have to accompany me to the station; in the meantime Laurence, a fixed-point duty man, had come, he was in uniform; I told him Laun was my prisoner, and ordered him to take him to the station; Laun then became violent, and said to Laurence, "If you put your hands on me I will b----soon knock you down"—I went to the end of the stable—we both laid hold of him by each wrist; he struggled violently; we got him outside, and I blew my whistle; another constable came, and Laun asked to be allowed to ride to the station in his own cab—he keeps two cabs, I believe—I said, "Owing to your previous violence I shall not let you do so"—I sent him to the station in custody of two constables—Giles behaved very quietly—I had seen the prosecutor's brother that day—next day, at the station, Giles said to Mr. Marley, "I hope you will forgive me, and not press the charge"—after the charge was read over, Laun said, "That is wrong; I did not know he was in the yard," apparently meaning Giles.
Cross-examined by MR. SELLS. I stood in two different places on the 13th; I could point them out by the bushes—I was not hidden behind the bushes either time—I could see into the stable when the light was lit inside—it was a strong light, I believe it was gas—the 13th was a moonlight night, but the 6th was dark—the bin would contain a sack of flour—I searched the van and found an empty sack in it—I do not know whether carmen use a sack instead of an umbrella when it is cold or raining—I did not examine the box of the van.
Cross-examined by MR. AVOKY. It is consistent with a man being innocent that he should resist being laid hold of—Laun wanted to go into the house for his coat, and wanted the people to bring it, and a man 1 asked did so—a cab was standing at the door, but it
would not have been easy to control him in it, as I had no control of the driver—we could not see the bar door, but we could see if anyone went in or out—the van was there at 6.30, and when we saw it driven round to the back, about seven, we kept continued observation on it—there was a good light on the 13th—I did not refuse to let Laun turn it up—no effort was made to turn it up, to my knowledge—I have been stationed in the neighbourhood two years, and I believe Laun was the licensed holder of that house when I went there—I have been in there for refreshment; the house is used by the police—I once went there and asked Laun about some thieves; whether he had had anybody in his house from Wandsworth—he said no; but I gave him the names of the persons, and then he told me what time they had been there—the back of the house is more open than the front, because it faces the common—the van at night-time was not as conspicuous at the back as at the front—the house stands back some distance; the road does not go up to the house, but there is nothing in front to prevent anybody seeing—the boy first said, "I live here," he may have said that he was Laun's son—I know he had a son, but I did not know he was a boy of that age—I told Laun at the stable that he would be charged with receiving this forage, knowing it to be stolen; he said, "Nothing of the kind"—he dived his arm into the bin twice; I do not say that he mixed it, he may have—when I first saw the fodder in the bin it was all heaped up to a point, it had not been levelled; the point was slightly above the top of the bin—I have shot a bag of fodder into a bin and got a point like that, if there was room in the bin—I believe there was a shoot on the left side, but not immediately over the bin, to the best of my belief.
Re-examined. We moved about on 13th November till the van was drawn up at the back—the light was the same when I took the samples.
HUGH LAURENCE (586 V). Last month I did point duty near the Railway beer-house, at the edge of Barnes Common—on 13th November, between 6.15 and 6.30, I saw Messrs. Marley's van, and Giles in charge of it—he went into the house and spoke to Laun across the counter—Laun's daughter was there—Giles came out, let down the tail-board, took out a cheese-box, and carried it into the house—Laun was called from the bar, and Giles took the van and horses to the back premises, from twenty to thirty yards off—I had not then seen Cooper or Hills—Hills called me to the back; Laun was there, and Cooper said, "Take charge of Mr. Laun, he is my. Prisoner"—I said, "You must come to the station"—he said, "I will see you b----first, and all the b----lot of you; if you dare to lay a hand on me I will knock you b----well down"—I took him away; his coat was brought out of the house.
Cross-examined by MR. SELLS. I saw Laun's son outside; he was not with the van, he was playing about with Giles' little boy—Giles took the cheese-box into the bar, and handed it over the counter; I cannot say who to or whether it was heavy.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I have no belief whether the cheese-box was full; no one has made a charge of stealing it—the other officers could see what went in, but not what went out—I have been in the neighbourhood, and have known Laun twelve months—he was there when I first knew him—the house was looked after by his son for two years; I used it sometimes.
Re-examined. Laun and his daughter were behind the bar when Giles went in; the boy was not there—I cannot say whether the cheese-box was searched for or found, the house was searched the next day.
WILLIAM BECK MARLEY . I trade with my brothers as Marley Brothers, wholesale provision merchants, Brushfield Street, City—Giles has been our carman six years—it was his duty to drive vans to tradesmen's shops in the suburbs—bacon was packed with straw, and customers who have a number of sides have the straw between to keep it from rubbing—some of the customers have the straw, and what they do not use the carman ought to bring home, and we use it for bedding for the hordes—they take out what they require, and bring back the surplus—the police communicated with me, and on the evening of November 13th I found Giles' van in the hands of the police, and sent a man to bring it home—the Railway Tavern would be Giles' nearest way home; he had delivered his goods—I saw ah empty sack at the police station, it was ours—this is a speciman of our forage; what the police have produced is not ours, there are beans in it—this (produced) corresponds with our forage—once a week Giles went on a round where it would be proper to pass Laun's beer-house—this is a correct copy of our ledger—after January 2nd, 1890, there were no business transactions between us and Laun—next day at the station Giles said to me, "I hope you will not press the charge."
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Giles stopped where he liked for refreshment, and I believe that was his nearest way home—we do a large business—if the straw is clean we send it out again—I should not think of discharging a man for taking out a little bit of dirty straw from the bottom of the van—I said at the station that I did not care a rap about the straw, but the police made the charge, and of the fodder as well—our forage contains hay, clover, and oats.
Cross-examined by MR. SELLS. I keep a horsekeeper; he does not give out the oats, they help themselves—I have complained to Giles about the way the horses were kept—he may have been in the employ nearly seven years—we took him with good references—he was at Mr. Culley's before.
Re-examined. I saw the straw in the hands of the police—it was of value for bedding horses, but there was not enough for bedding one horse—it might be worth a shilling—I gave no leave to Giles to take our straw—either on the 6th or 13th.
HENRY ALEXANDER . I was with Cooper on November 13th, by the stable door, and saw Laun go to the bin and put his arm down up to the elbow; he tried to push Cooper away, and Cooper took the stuff out of his hand—I saw the straw, it had just been brought in; it looked nearly a truss when it was loose in the stable—I pushed it up from the stall, but there was some litter underneath—the gas was turned up quite full; some one turned it up while we were watching—Cooper said he was going to take the fodder out of the bin; Laun said he should not, and there was a bit of pushing about—we watched the van half-an-hour before it came round to the stable, I never had my eyes off it—I saw no cheese-box.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I did not see Laun before he came round to the stable; if he had looked he could have seen us from the stable, it was a bright moonlight night.
Cross-examined by MR. SELLS. I could not hold a truss of straw in my
arms if it was loose, I could half a truss—he only made one journey, but he took it in both arms.
ARTHUR HIBBS (366 V). I was with Cooper and Alexander—I saw Marley's van at the side of the premises; Giles moved it to the rear, took a quantity of straw out, and put it in the stable, and a good part of a sack of provender was taken in and the empty sack brought out—I fetched Laun, and he put his hand into the bin and brought a sieve up, and tried to mix the contents, but Cooper stopped him.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Cooper said he was going to take the fodder out of the bin, Laun said, "You are not going to take the stuff," and there was a pushing about—it did not occur to any of us to go up to the loft to see what kind of fodder there was—there was a shoot about three yards from the bin.
Cross-examined by MR. SELLS. I cannot say whether Giles pushed the straw out of the van with his foot on to the ground, and then picked it up; I saw him take it into the stable—there was a little over half a truss.
E. COOPER (Re-examined by MR. BESLEY). The straw came from the stalls in the stables—I took up as much as I could; it was clean—the sample was from below the level of the sieve, and that which is in the sack I took from the bottom of the bin; that is the same as Messrs. Marleys'.
By the JURY. There was more straw, dirty litter, but this was wheat straw.
Witnesses for Laun.
FREDERICK WILLIAM LAUN . I am the son of the prisoner Laun, and shall be 15 years old next birthday—on 13th November I was in the bar when Gilesdrew up with his van—I knew him, he came there every week—he came in and had something to drink—my sister served him—my father was not in the bar; he had just come home from Kingston Fair, and was in the kitchen—I went outside, and one of Giles's little boys was minding the van—when Giles came out I asked him to give me some of the rubbish in the van for my geese—he said, "Yes," and I told him to draw round to the back, so as not to make a mess with the straw at the front—when ho got to the back he gave me the straw out of the bottom of the van, and I carried it in—I am quite sure of that—no cheese-box was carried out of the van before it went round to the back—nothing was carried into the stable except the straw—there is a shoot in the stable from the loft into the bin.
Cross-examined. One boy who came with Giles was about five years old, and one six—only the youngest was with him that night—I have had the geese a month or five weeks—I lock them up at night and let them out in the morning—I have only had straw for them once—I was there on the evening of November 6th, indoors; I did not see Giles bring in a sack half full, and take out an empty sack—I was called before the Magistrate—I know the theory that it was not my father's stable, but my brother's—there was one horse in the stable, the man who works for my brother feeds them—there is no trap to the shoot.
Re-examined. If you let the forage down into the bin the sieve would be underneath.
I was in the bar when Giles was there—he called every Friday and had his beer—I served him on this night, and remained in the bar till he left—it is not true that my father spoke to Giles that night in the bar. he was not in the bar while Giles was there—he went into the kitchen when he came in, and remained there till Giles left the house—no cheese-box came in that night—the police searched the house next day, but found no cheese-box—when my father was arrested my brother Charles was carrying on the cab business; he had done so since July or August—I heard a discussion between my father and him, and it was agreed for £1 for the use of the stable and £1 for the cabs—this (produced) is my father's diary; I never saw these entries about the stable in it before this case came on—I had nothing to do with keeping this book.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether my father was ever in the police—Giles used not to go into the stable on Friday nights when he came—I never heard the wheels going round to the stable door when he called on other nights—I have never given evidence till to-day—I do not know of an empty sack being given to him—the geese are kept round at the back.
Re-examined. Giles paid for his drink; I served him, but my brother took the money.
CHARLES LAUN . I am the prisoner's eldest son—I took the cabs in July, and agreed to pay £1 a week for them, and 10s. for the stable—I had to keep the horses—I bought the fodder after that date—entries were sometimes made in the diary when I paid my father anything—I bought my fodder from Mr. Ward and Mr. Tanner—shortly before November 13 I had a bag of mixed chaff and a sack of oats from Mr. Tanner, and a mixture from Mr. Ward, which contained crushed peas—I sometimes used one, and sometimes the other—on 13th November about six o'clock I shot into the bin some fodder which I had of Tanner, mixed chaff and oats—the shoot from the loft comes in at one end of the bin; it is not three yards off it—I left the bin nearly full—since I have had charge of the cabs my father has had nothing to do with the stable beyond helping me occasionally.
Cross-examined. I have never known the van go round to the stable-door before, and I did not see it on the 13th—I do not know where my brother got the straw for the geese before 13th November—I think my father has bought one horse and cab since the charge—I swear that this memorandum was not written in this book after November 13th; it was written on 25th July, I believe—every payment made by me to my father, except being written under the line is written sideways—I gave my father money on Saturdays, and the entries are made crossways to the book—I do not know whether or not he reckoned in the 25s. I paid him.
Re-examined. I had something to do with keeping the account—I shall be twenty-one years old next August; my sister was present when the arrangement was made—these entries do not relate to the public-house business—I see so much taken and so much in hand, that refers to money taken in the public-house.
HENRY TANNER . I am a forage merchant—I sold forage to Laun's son—this is my book—I am not a very good scholar—here is an entry, November 11th, one sack of oats, and one bag of mixed chaff—this forage produced is oats and chaff; this is the kind of stuff I sold to him.
Cross-examined. My niece and nephew write in the book; this dark ink is my nephew's writing; he is not here nor is my niece—I can only write my name—this (a slip of paper) is my nephew's writing—this contains the whole of what I supplied Laun with—there is not a single entry from July to November 11th, but he dealt with other people besides.
Re-examined. This bill is on my printed billhead—I have not manufactured this entry at the prisoner's suggestion for the purposes of this case—I know he dealt with Mr. Wood.
MARK WOOD . I am a coal porter—I was called as a witness at the Police-court, Wandsworth—I was in the Railway Tavern on November 13th—I was in the Railway Tavern when Giles drew up with his van and came in to drink—I saw him go out again to the van—no cheese-box was brought in while he was there—the prisoner Laun was not in the bar while Giles was there—I was there when the police sent for Laun, and followed the van round—only some straw was taken from the van to the stable; no fodder was taken in—I was not three yards from the van.
Cross-examined. I was outside the public-house when the police came to ask Laun to go out behind—I saw one child of Giles with the van and with Frederick Laun—if I have said "children" I think it is a mistake—I was asked to give evidence on 21st November—I have seen the van there before lots of times—I have not seen straw come out for the geese.
Cross-examined. A sack of oats is worth ten shillings; I forget the price of the chaff; I have not paid for it yet—this entry of eleven shillings is only for the oats—I do not buy them mixed.
By MR. AVORY. The bill for sixteen shillings is for the oats and chaff.
MR. MORLEY. I am one of the firm of Morley and Sheriff, solicitors; we are solicitors for Mr. Laun—I went to the stable and saw the bin; the shaft from the loft comes down to it—there is no shaft three yards off.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. THORNE COLE and MR. ROUTH Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL appeared for Fryer.
JANE AMELIA HASTINGS . I live with my father at 83, Camden Grove North, Peckham—on November 23rd I left home at 8.30 p.m., leaving no one in the house but three little children in bed—the windows and doors were all fast, and I shut the street door and pushed it, and it did not come open—I found it open when I returned at 11.30—I went up to the first floor front and found the safe had gone—this is it (produced), I also missed this flour bag from the table in the back parlour—there is another sack inside it with flour in it which I do not know.
a.m., I found this safe in this sack in the forecourt of the Salvation Army barracks, Peckham—I had to cut the sack to get it out—I took it to Peckham Police-station, where Mr. Hastings identified it—I went to his house and examined the latch of the street-door, the bolt was bent, showing that considerable force had been applied to the door—about eight o'clock that morning I went to Fryer's house, 46, Garsden Road, Peckham, and found this sawdust swept up under the grate in the back kitchen, and some more in the back yard; it is the same sort of stuff as the safe was packed with—I found marks in the yard which corresponded with the safe; it weighed about 1 1/2 cwt. Betts, who was with me, found these three pieces of metal, the hasps of the lock of the safe, which are minus, and this piece of metal, which had been freshly broken—I could not compare it because the rest of the back of the safe was gone—there is a mark on the safe which might be made by this pickaxe; it was in the yard, and it showed that it had been recently used—shortly after I went there Fryer came in at the front door; I said, "You know me, I am Inspector Fox; I shall arrest you for being concerned in committing a burglary last night at 83, Camden Grove North, and stealing a safe and contents, value £40"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "It is your kitchen and your back yard"?—he said, "Yes"—I said "I wish you to see this sawdust here and these marks, as they will be mentioned in evidence"—he said, "That dust came from the oak wood I broke up"—I said, "There is no indication of any wood being broken up"—he said, "Well, my wife is innocent, do not take her"—he said at the station, "How did you get on to me"?—I said, "Carroll, Sheehan, and Kent are concerned with you, they were at your house last night late"—he said "Yes, you are quite right; do not say I said so, I should not like them to know; you treat me all right, and I will let you know something; the things these pawntickets refer to are all right; I cannot answer for the clock and watch"—at twelve o'clock that night Blower brought Carroll into the station—I told him the charge; he said, "an you prove it?"—I said, "You, Sheehan, and Kent took the safe on a costermonger's barrow to Dick Fryer's house"—he said, "I shall prove that I was at Chatham at the time"—I had mentioned the time—Betts afterwards brought Sheehan in and I told him the charge—he said, "Who has been rounding?"—I said, "Fryer has for one"—he said, "You will have to prove it; if I get done I shall do it like a man; I can prove I was in Gravesend on Monday; I got back at six in the evening; George Hemmingway and Mike Smith will prove I was at the Lord Hill all the evening"—that is a public-house near Fryer's place, and near the Salvation Army—later on Kent was brought in by Betts; I told him the charge—he said. "All right, say what you like, I shall prove I was at Gravesend; I know we had all three been boozing together the last three days, but that has nothing to do with it; I was at the Rose of Denmark, Queen Street, Gravesend, on Monday night; I can prove it"—I said, "I can prove you were at Peckham on Monday night and early on Tuesday morning; your mate Carroll says he was at the Rose of Denmark, Queen Street, Chatham, on Monday night"—he said, "Never mind, I know where I was"—they were then formally charged.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. There has been a string through the handle since to catch the latch of Fryer's house, but it was not there
then, and I had to burst the door open—Fryer was out; I understood he would be in for breakfast, and I kept quiet—his wife did not come down stairs; I left an officer upstairs to watch her—nine shillings was found on him—he has told me since he has been on remand that he went to work between six and seven—the street door is on a level with the passage, and so is the yard, which is enclosed.
Cross-examined by Carroll. You were at a common lodging-house in Meeting House Lane, Peckham, but I just missed you; Kent went there with you at four a.m.—you were very drunk when you were brought to the station—Chatham and Gravesend are nearly eight miles apart.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. I have known you two years; I knew you before you enlisted—I detained you at the station some time to get witnesses, but could not find them—you looked as if you had been drinking, but you were sober.
JOSEPH HASTINGS . I live at Camden Grove North, Peckham—on November 23rd I left my safe secure at eight o'clock; it contained three gold rings, a Spanish doubloon, a gold signet ring, a gold wedding-ring, two £5 notes, £5 in gold, a cigar-case, and other articles—I have seen the cigar-case since, also a revolver and some policies of insurance; they were left in the safe.
ROBERT BROWN . I am a private soldier in the E battalion Surrey Regiment—I live at 65, East Surrey Grove, Peckham—on 22nd November I was outside the Rose of Denmark beer-house, Camden Grove North, Peckham, about 10 p.m., and saw Carroll and Sheehan with something like a box on their shoulders, about two feet square, about the size of this safe—it appeared heavy—they placed it about three feet from the bar-door of the beer-house—I then went inside—on the following Saturday I picked them out at Holloway Prison from about sixteen others who were marching round.
Cross-examined by Carroll. You came from the direction of the prosecutor's house; you passed me on the footpath with the box on your shoulders—I saw your faces as you came round the corner—you had your hat in your hand—when I recognised you at Holloway you had your hat on—you placed the box on the ground and one of you, I think it was you, sat upon it—I saw no barrow—the box was grey; I cannot say whether it was covered with a sack.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. You asked me at the station whether you had your boots on or not, and I said I could not tell—that is like the jacket you had on—I did not describe it as a black box—I was at Kingston this time twelve months, but do not remember seeing you in your regiment.
SUSAN SOUTHGATE . I am the wife of George Southgate, of 11, Hasland Road, Peckham, about two minutes' walk from Commercial Road—on Monday, 25th November, about 9.45 p.m., I left a barrow safe in our front garden, and missed it about 10.15—I saw it next at the Police-station on the Wednesday morning, and my son brought it home—it had on it "Bailey, No. 77."—I gave no authority to anyone to take it away; it was stolen.
FREDERICK BREWER (Police Sergeant P). On 28th November, about ten p.m., I took Carroll outside the Canterbury Music Hall, Westminster Bridge Road, I placed him in a cab—he said, "What do you pinch me for, Mr. Brewer—buzzing?"—that is a slang term for picking pockets—I
said, "No, not buzzing, but for being concerned with others in breaking and entering 83. Camden Grove, Peckham, and stealing an iron safe last Monday night"—he said "When"?—I said, "Last Monday night"—he said, "I have got you there, I was at the Rose of Denmark, Chatham, then; and can prove it"—at the station he said, "I wont tell a lie, it was Gravesend, not Chatham, at a lodging-house, Bridge Street; you send and see"—I said, "Do they know you there"?—he said "No"—I assisted in searching him—I said, "You have no money?"—he said, "No, but I have some miles from here"—on Sunday night, November 24th, I found a barrow at the corner of Garsdale Road, about fifty yards from Fryer's house—it had on it "Bailey, Wyndham Road. 77."
ELLEN DELL . I am a servant at 6, Blue Anchor Lane, Peckham—on November 23rd, at 10.30 p.m., I was near Bell Gardens Road, and saw the three prisoners moving a barrow; I knew Carroll by sight; I knew Sheehan well, and I afterwards identified Kent by his shirt and his coat—I found it was a box in the barrow—there are posts at the corner of the Orchard; the barrow would not go through, and Kent and Carroll sat on it—it was wrapped up in a white sack; they took it to an alley—I did not see them again till I picked them out.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. YOU can get through Bell Gardens Road out of Hill Street, but going to the Orchard that way you would be moving away from Garsdale Road—it is five minutes' walk from Blue Anchor Lane to Garsdale Road.
Re-examined. From Blue Anchor Lane, where the posts are, to 46, Garsdale Road, is about 140 yards.
Cross-examined by Kent. I cannot swear to you, because I did not see your face.
Cross-examined by Carroll. I know you by sight, but I do not remember ever speaking to you—there is not an old quarrel between your family and mine—I have seen you at the top of the Orchard.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. I have known you all your life—I did not see you give any help towards carrying the box, but you were behind them—I did not see you speak to them.
Re-examined. I have no grudge against either of the prisoners—I did not come forward till the police requested me to come.
SARAH LIND I am a factory girl, and live at 10, Blue Anchor Lane. Peckham I was with the last witness between 10.30 and 11 p.m. on 23rd November and saw Kent, Carroll and Sheehan—Kent was carrying something like a box, covered with a white sack; Carroll was helping behind, and Sheehan was about three yards behind—they took it into an alley and brought it back again—I afterwards picked out Sheehan and Carroll.
Cross-examined by Kent. I did not identify you; I had never seen you before.
Cross-examined by Carroll. Sheehan was the first one I picked out—Inspector Fox said, "Have a good look and see if you can see any more," and then I picked you out—I do not remember saying, "I think that is one"—I was talking to Ellen Dell, and never saw the barrow—we were very near her gate.
Cross-examined by Sheehan I know you, and your sister and mother—I did not see you give any help towards carrying the box—I never saw
you with the barrow at all; you gave no help—I did not even see you speak to them.
SIDNEY BETTS (Detective P). I made this plan of the neighbourhood—it is just under a mile from the Rose of Denmark to the Salvation Hall—from the Rose of Denmark to the Commercial Arms is about 450 yards, a little over a quarter of a mile—I took Sheehan, on 25th November, about 10.30, at the Canterbury Music Hall, handed him over to another officer, and then took Kent, and then charged them with burglariously breaking and entering 83, Camden Grove, and stealing a safe and contents value £40—Kent said, "What night?"—I said, "Monday night, the 23rd"—he said, "I was at Gravesend"—Sheehan was very violent, and knocked one of the men down—on the way to the Police-court Sheehan said, "Where is Nell?"—I said, "She has gone home"—he said, "You did not pinch her?"—I said, "No"—Carroll said, "Who put us away? How do you know we were there?"—Sheehan said at the station, "I know I had some of the money; they must have got it crooked, but you know what it is, when they have got it you must go with them"—I found on Sheehan 5s. 9d., and on Kent 5s. 9 1/2 d.—on 24th November, about 8 a.m., I examined the rear of 46, Garsdale Road where Fryer lives, and found these two pieces of brass (produced); they correspond with the safe—I produce a sample of sawdust which I found in the back yard; it corresponds with the sawdust packing of the safe.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. From Fryer's house to Blue Anchor Lane, where the posts are, is 140 yards.
FRANK SMITH . I am a costermonger, of 37, Stockwell Street, Old Kent Road—I know all the prisoners by sight—on 23rd November I saw Sheehan at the Commercial Arms—he asked me whether I could get a barrow; I said "No," and asked what he wanted it for; he said he was going to do a job and earn 2s.—a little while afterwards I saw Sheehan coming along Commercial Road with a barrow, going towards the Rosemary Branch and towards Camden Grove North—I saw him again about an hour afterwards coming from the same direction, and two more with him—I followed them on the pavement—there was something on the barrow, covered with ill light sack—I followed to the top of the Orchard, and went into the Lord Hill, in Hill Street, that is near Garsdale Road—I do not know where they went—about 12.30 I saw three of them again going towards Garsdale Road; they still had the barrow with them—I told Inspector Fox I knew the three; and knew their names—he said, "And so do I" and gave me their names—I made a statement to him and signed it—I knew them by sight; I get my living at Peckham.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. You did not walk on the path with me when the two men were pushing the barrow—I did not see you come into the Lord Hill—I saw George Elway there, but did not see you drinking with him
Cross-examined by Carroll. I cannot swear to you; the same two men who were with him kept with him—I saw him pushing a barrow, but there was nothing in it.
Cross-examined by Kent. I cannot positively swear you are one of the men.
Kent's defence: I know nothing about it.
Sheehan, in his defence, stated that he was discharged from the Army G 2
at Gravesend, walked to London, and two men asked him for a barrow, and he helped to push it, but there was nothing on it. Carroll, in his defence, stated that he was not near the place.
Evidence for Sheehan.
GEORGE HAMMINGWAY . I am a general dealer at Peckham—I was in the Lord Hill on the 23rd, about six o'clock, and stayed till turning-out time—I saw Sheehan there between ten and eleven o'clock, and we drank together—I did not see him in the company of any of the other prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. As near as I can guess it was about eleven o'clock—the Lord Hill is a fully-licensed house; Bell Gardens and Garsdale Road are close by.
FRYER GUILTY of receiving. KENT** CARROLL** and SHEEHAN** GUILTY of burglary. FRYER and CARROLL then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions. FRYER, KENT, and CARROLL— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. SHEEHAN— Nine Months' Hard Labour. The GRAND JURY made a presentment commending Inspector Fox.
MR. HUTTON and MR. ROUTH Prosecuted.
GUILTY of the attempt. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
150. JOHN MULLS** (45) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch, the property of Frederick Sheppard, after a conviction at this Court on 13th September, 1886, in the name of John Wilkins.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
(151). ANGELO MURPHY** (31) , to two indictments for burglary in the dwelling-house of David Martin Lane and Alfred Firth, and stealing their goods, after a conviction at this Court in May, 1889, in the name of Henry Frost.— Four Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WHIPPLE Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
The JURY said that they considered the prisoner left the Court without a stain upon his character.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
PATRICK LYNCH . I am 19—I was living at Landsdown Place, Southwark—I am employed at Glanville and Company's floorcloth factory, 20, Bland Street, Southwark—at the end of September there was a strike there; I went on working—on Sunday evening, between half-past seven and eight, I went with Charles Marshall, Alfred Laird, and Thomas Seymour, three chaps, and two young women, Alice Nail and Louisa Brown, to the Fox-under-the-Hill, Denmark Hill—the prisoner, and about twelve of his companions, whom I had never seen before, were
there—we stayed at the public-house till about ten minutes to ten; we left the prisoner and his companions behind—nothing had passed between our party and his—we came to Camberwell Green, where we stopped to talk to two friends—I then saw the prisoner and his companions, about as many as were in the public-house, behind—his companions were singing and kicking up a disturbance coming along there; it was about ten o'clock—a voice came from behind, I cannot say whose it was, "That is Patsy Lynch"—the strangers were three or four yards off me—before I could look round I got a blow from a fist from behind that knocked me behind the ear and made me fall, and I was kicked all over the place—I was a minute or two on the ground—I did not see who kicked me—my friends came to pick me up and they got knocked by the prisoner's companions—those attacking were the largest number—my friend hurried me away aid got me into a tramcar, a little further on, by the Father Redcap—a minute or two after they got on the same car—there were a lot of passengers on the top at the time—there were garden-seats, and the people who got up sat on the opposite seats to us; we were on the right and they on the left—we went as far as the Horse and Groom, East Street—just before we got there I got up to get down, seeing they had come up, and I was knocked down on the top of the tram as it was going; the conductor had just come up to give the tickets—I rose up to go away, and saw I was followed by some of the men—I saw the prisoner on the tram-car, I swear—when I got up to go down I was struck on the back of the neck—I did not see who struck me—I fell on the roof of the car—I got up, and got another blow, and got a black eye through it; that was the second time I was struck on the tram-car—my friends assisted me up, and then the prisoner's companions began knocking them about—then I went to get down the staircase, with my face to the street, and I was stabbed on the back of my head by the prisoner; I saw him; he rushed between my young woman and two other passengers and got to me, and directly I felt the blow, before I had time to put my foot on the step, I was on the top, I saw something shining, glittering in his hand; it cut through my hat—I got off the car, and ran through East Street; I saw no more of the prisoner after I got the blow—I am certain he is the man who stabbed me—I met a friend, Jimmy Osborne, in the Kent Road, and he took me to Guy's Hospital—I was bleeding—at the hospital they dressed my head, and I attended as an out-patient for four weeks afterwards—on the next day, Monday, I applied to the police, and a warrant was granted on Tuesday—on 2nd November I recognised the prisoner at Kingston as the man who stabbed me, by his features—he was in Militia uniform in the guard-room; three or four others were in the guard-room at the time—he had no uniform on on the night I was stabbed.
Cross-examined. When I went to Kingston I heard Smale tell one of the officers that he wanted to see Beedham, and an officer went out, and came back with the prisoner; except that I say he was there on this night—the prisoner is an absolute stranger to me—he had nothing to do with the strike—we did not say a word at this public-house—the people were in the same compartment as we were, but we did not exchange a word—I had no reason to notice the faces of any people there except those of my friends, I swear
the prisoner was in that public-house—I saw the prisoner among those who followed me when I came out—Camberwell Green is about a quarter of a mile from the Fox-under-the-Hill; when we got there the other party were five or six yards behind us; I could not say exactly—it is not light there—I was not looking back at all—when I looked round I saw quite a dozen of them—I pledge my oath the prisoner was one of them—I only noticed he had a bird's-eye handkerchief; but it was. dark, and I did not notice his clothes—all his party were strangers to me; it was not because I bad ever seen them together that I say they were his companions—I don't know who struck the blow at Camberwell Green—two witnesses got off the tram-car when I was on it to look for a constable, and could not find him—I saw the prisoner among those who kicked me at Camberwell Green—I said before the Magistrate, "It was the prisoner who struck me," referring to Camberwell Green; I don't know who struck me, my young woman told me—I said, "While on the ground the prisoner and two of his companions kicked me on the back of the head"—I saw no one kick me—I spoke from what my young woman told me—I saw the prisoner sitting on the opposite side, of the car, not behind me; a militiaman was with him—I said before the Magistrate that the prisoner sat behind me—I have been floorcloth printing for two years up to six or seven weeks ago; since then I have not been doing much—I worked at Pearce and Plenty's—I am a boxer—I have not been boxing outside this Court—I believe there was a skirmish outside last Monday; I don't know anything about it—I and twenty men did not set on the prisoner, knock him down, kick him in the road, and cut his mouth—I did not see him knocked down or kicked—at four o'clock on Monday I was sitting inside the Court—I told the policeman that a militiaman was among the persons on the top of the car—Kingston barracks are where militiamen would ordinarily be—I only told Smale that the man who assaulted me was a tall thin fellow with a bit of a moustache, and on that description Smale went to Kingston—I told him at the same time that there was a militiaman amongst them—the person who stabbed me was not exactly behind me, but at my side—I swore before the Magistrate, "Just before I got to the steps I felt a blow on the back of the head from the prisoner, who was just behind me"—I have not said before to-day that I saw the knife shining—the blow on my head and my falling backwards was very quick—I swear positively the prisoner stabbed me—I saw him get between the girl and the passengers—when I picked him out at the barracks he said, "I know nothing about it."
Re-examined. There was a militiaman in the public-house where I first saw the party of thirteen; he was not the man who stabbed me; he was in the prisoner's company in the public-house and on the car—we were at the public-house from half-past seven or eight till ten minutes to ten—the first attack on me was ten minutes or quarter of an hour after we left the public-house—I think the militiaman got on to the tram after us—we sat on the second seat in front on the right hand aide, and the prisoner sat on the left hand side three or four seats back; he was behind us, but not on the same row of seats—the staircase winds round, and to go down you are obliged to turn sideface; I was about to step off the top when I was struck—I got to the hospital at eleven o'clock—I was born in Manchester.
FRANCIS WELFORD . I am house surgeon at Guy's—on Sunday, 4th October, about 11 p.m., a man came in with a stab in his head, and was an out-patient under my care for some days afterwards—I cannot swear if the prosecutor is that man (Lynch was here recalled, and said that the witness was the gentleman who attended to his wound)—no other case of stab in the head was treated at 11 p.m. on 4th October, and there was no other case where the patient had to come for seven or eight days—the man I dressed had a scalp wound on the right side—it must certainly have been trivial; we only made a note that a man attended, and what his injury was.
CHARLES MARSHALL . I am seventeen—I live in Mason Street, Old Kent Road, at a confectioner's—on Sunday night, 4th October, I was with Lynch at the Fox-under-the-Hill—Laird, Seymour, Alice Nail, and another girl were with us—I saw the prisoner and about twelve companions there; I knew none of them; one wore a red coat and Scotch cap—nothing passed between that party and ours—we came out about five minutes to ten, and walked to Camber well Green, a quarter of an hour's walk—the other people followed immediately after us—at Camberwell Green Lynch stopped to speak to a companion, and I heard someone at the back of us say, "That is Patsy Lynch, the blackleg," and when we turned round we saw the prisoner's companion's kicking Lynch on the ground—the prisoner and two of his companions were near him and kicking him—that went on for about five minutes—some of the prisoner's companions knocked me down—I saw the prisoner kick Lynch—we got Lynch up and sat him on the top of a tram-car which was starting—the prisoner and his companions, including the man in militia uniform, came on the roof of the car—they were garden seats; Lynch sat on the right side, and of the others some sat and some stood—Lynch went to get a light, and some of the prisoner's companions knocked him down—I went to pick him up, and I got knocked across the head with a heavy instrument, like a bit of lead, that cut my head open—we picked Lynch up, and we were going off together, when the prisoner hit Lynch on the head with something that glittered, I saw it in his hand; the best I could make of it was that it was a knife—it descended on Lynch's head; I am sure the prisoner did it—that was by the Horse and Groom, after we had passed Carter Street—I could see by the street lamps—all the time the prisoner and his companions were on top of the car—Lynch and I got down to look for a policeman, but could not find one, and Lynch, I found, had gone to the hospital—the prisoner was about a yard from me when the knife was used—I afterwards picked the prisoner out at Lambeth Police-court—I saw him outside the Court with his companions round him; I recognised one as being one of his companions at the Fox-under-the-Hill—I bad not seen the prisoner between 4th October and 3rd November—he had on a black coat and waistcoat, and pair of cord trousers; I identify him by his clothes and by his face.
By the COURT. I said before the Magistrate "I thought it was an open knife"—the prisoner said, when he struck him, "I will do for you, you blackleg."
Cross-examined. I was not at the Police-court the first day this was before the Magistrate; I was called the first time I went to the Court—Lynch asked me to go there and see if I could identify the man, and I said, "That is the man"—I saw him outside the Court—I was with
Lynch and three witnesses—Lynch said, "There are his companions all over there; is that the man?" pointing to him and his companions—no solicitor was instructed by Lynch or me; a solicitor did appear, we did not pay him; he represented the employer who had the strike—I do not know that the secretary of the strike union has attended here to say he knows nothing of the prisoner—I had never before seen any of the prisoner's party who were at the Fox-under-the-Hill—the prisoner and all of them were perfect strangers to me; I had never seen them to say whether they were companions—they followed us, singing and shouting; they did not say anything to us—about a dozen surrounded Lynch at Camber well Green; they said something to him—it is rather dark—they were kicking him for less than five minutes—I could distinguish who kicked him—I went to his help and got kicked—we saw the other party come up the stairs of the car—we were on it about seven minutes before the assault took place—I told the Magistrate about someone striking me with an instrument—the man who stabbed Lynch was at his side—he went over my shoulder—the prisoner was a yard from the prosecutor—I was not between them—I did not go to the Police-station—Lynch came to me on the day I had to go to the Court, and that was the first time anyone had come to ask me to go there or to give information—I said the man who struck Lynch had on the same clothes as the prisoner had then, he has not on the same clothes now—he had a black coat and waistcoat, and pair of cord trousers, and a bird's-eye handkerchief—I recognise him him by the cord trousers and his face, the cord trousers do not make much difference.
Re-examined. The prisoner used the word blackleg on the top of the tram when he stabbed Lynch.
ALFRED LAIRD . I am twenty—I live in Bermondsey, and work at Glanville and Co., the linoleum place, Bland Street, Southwark—I worked there before and after the strike, and on 2nd October—on this Sunday, about eight, I was with Lynch, Marshall, Seymour, Alice Nail, and another girl at the Fox-under-the-Hill—the prisoner and his companions came in there; one of them was a militiaman in uniform—nothing was said, they kept on looking over and passing remarks; they looked over and whispered, and looked suspicious—we left the public-house at a quarter to ten, leaving the prisoners behind—at Camber well Green Lynch stopped to speak to a friend, and I heard someone say, "That is Lynch," and he was struck and knocked down by about a dozen; the militiaman was among them, but he did not do anything—the prisoner was the first one to hit Lynch; he said nothing—they kicked Lynch, and Marshall was struck—that lasted about five minutes—then we got on a tram-car, and they came up—near the Police-station, in Walworth Road, they got up, and said, "Here they are" and they struck Lynch again; he was knocked down; he went to get up, and I went to help him, and three of them tried to throw me over the top of the tram; and a lot of men were in the road pulling the horses off the line, and holloaing out "Throw him over"—they stopped the driver; some of them were the prisoner's companions, we all went to get down at the conductor's end—Lynch went first, then Marshall and his young woman, and then I; and as Lynch got to the staircase, and had his foot on it. I saw the prisoner make a rush at him—Lynch said he had been stabbed—we all ran down the staircase, and the prisoner and his companions got off the car, too, at the driver's
end and ran away—the prosecutor's shirt-collar and coat were covered with blood, and there was a cut in his hat—afterwards I went with him to the Police-station—a warrant was applied for next day—I next saw the prisoner at the Police-court on the Tuesday, after he had been remanded; I then saw him in the dock.
Cross-examined. The men I saw at the Fox-under-the-Hill were perfect strangers to me—I heard on the Monday that someone was brought up from Kingston, and that he would be brought before the Magistrate next day; I did not go before the Magistrate next day, not till after the remand—I was in Court when the prisoner came into the dock—we were at the Fox-under-the-Hill first, and the prisoner and his companions came in afterwards—when Lynch was struck on the tram-car Marshall was behind Lynch—the person who struck the blow was near the footboard, just by the rail.
Re-examined. The man who stabbed said, "I will do for the blackleg."
THOMAS SEMER . I am eighteen—I am a printer in Glanville and Co.'s linoleum floorcloth factory—I went to work there after the strike—on Sunday, 4th October I was with Marshall, Laird, Lynch, Alice Nail, and another girl at the Fox-under-the-Hill from half-past seven till ten minutes to ten—I saw the prisoner and about eleven others, including a soldier in a red jacket there, when we went in—nothing was said between us there—when we got to Love Lane we heard the others coming behind singing—at Camber well Green Lynch went to speak to a friend, and we went to cross the road, and heard him halloa, and we turned and saw him on the ground and these young men coming from behind; they were kicking him—the prisoner made a kick at him—we crossed the road to get Lynch on his feet, and we got kicked; the females as well—I saw the soldier's uniform there—we got on a tram-car—the others must have followed on the next car, for when we got to Albany Road we found them on the car we were on, sitting behind us—Lynch went to get a light; we saw some of the prisoner's companions running by the side of the car, and some of them got up and Lynch was struck and fell down—Marshall ran to pick him up, and got struck on the head; Laird went to pick up Marshall, and they threatened to throw him off the top—a gentleman got off his seat and caught hold of Laird—Laird and I got knocked down—Lynch went to get down—the prisoner said, "All right, Lynch, it is all over; I will do for you this time, you blackleg"—I saw something in his hand that glittered, and when Lynch got on the staircase to go down he was struck almost as the prisoner said it—Lynch called out, "I have been stabbed"—I and Marshall ran down to try and find a police man, but could not do so, and I saw no more of Lynch till he came from the hospital with his head bandaged—I next saw the prisoner outside the Police-court; I recognised him at once; I have no doubt about it.
Cross-examined. I work at a different shop to Lynch—I saw him on the Monday night—I knew he was going to the Police-station—I heard on the Saturday afterwards he had been to Kingston, and that some one had been brought up and charged—I went to the Police-court on Tuesdays, I think, and it was the third time I gave evidence—I saw the prisoner outside the Court the first Tuesday I went; he was at liberty, a soldier was with him—Lynch, Marshall, and another man, not here,
were with me—Lynch said, in Marshall's presence, "Do you know which is the prisoner?" I said, "Yes"—he said, "Which one do you say he is?" and I said, "That tall young man"; and he said, "Yes"—he did not say, "That is the young man there, and those are his companions"—I am perfectly positive he is the man who was at the public-house, and on the tram-car—he had had no quarrel with me—the attacking party came on to the car after us.
Re examined. The prisoner was outside the Court on the pavement before he was called, and Lynch said, "Do you know the prisoner?" not "Do you know that man?"—I knew he had been fetched from Kingston on a warrant.
ALICE NAIL . I work at fur cleaning; I was with Lynch, Laird, Marshall, and Seymour in this public-house on the Sunday night—another party was there when we got there: a soldier was among them; I did not notice the prisoner—a few words dropped between that party and ours—when we left they followed us; I heard the prisoner and two or three more young men behind call out Lynch's name—we stopped to speak to two friends, and the prisoner hit Lynch on the side of the face, and knocked him down and kicked him—Marshall was struck on the hide of the head—when I screamed the fellows moved away somewhere, but as all of our party got on the top of the tram, they came after us—I did not notice the militiaman then, but I noticed the prisoner—when we turned and saw him there, we got up to come down, and the prisoner struck Lynch in the face, and he fell down—he got up to come down off the tram, and the prisoner struck him with a knife; I saw the thing flitter—as I screamed he called me foul names—I heard the word "blackleg" used on the top of the tram, and they said they meant doing for Lynch—I don't exactly know whe said it; it was one of the gang.
Cross-examined. These men were perfect strangers to me—I did not pay much attention to them at the public-house—it was very dark at Camberwell Green, where the kicking took place, and it was all done very quickly, in two or three minutes; we were not two minutes on the tram-car, and it was not particularly light up there—I heard from Lynch of his going to Kingston; I think Laird knew of it—I think I knew the same night that someone had been brought from Kingston—I went to the Police-court the next morning—Lynch, Marshall, Laird, and Seymour were all there on the morning after the prisoner was brought from Kingston—I saw the prisoner in the dock when Lynch gave evidence; that was the first time I saw him to say he was the man that struck the blow—Marshall, Laird, and Seymour were in court, too, when they heard Lynch say, "That is the man."
Re-examined. I went to the Police-court three times, I think, after I heard a warrant had been issued to bring him from Kingston—I was there two Tuesdays before I was examined—I saw him in the dock the first time I went, on 10th November—the other witnesses were there then—I think I went to the Police-court the day after I heard from Lynch of a man being brought from Kingston.
HARRY SMALE (Detective, Criminal Investigation Department). On 6th October I got. the warrant and made inquiries—I went to St. George's Barracks and then to Kingston, where I saw the prisoner in the guard-room with six or seven other soldiers, all dressed in uniform—Lynch saw them and pointed out the prisoner as the man who had assaulted
him on 4th October; I asked him to touch him, and he did so—I took the prisoner and read the warrant to him—he said, "I know nothing at all about it"—I did not indicate the man whom Lynch should identity—the warrant was not directed to anyone.
Cross-examined. I asked at Kingston Barracks for the prisoner—Lynch was not then in my company—I left him in the guard-room while I spoke to the orderly sergeant—the prisoner was brought down—Lynch was in the guard-room when the prisoner was brought there by a corporal, and then Lynch pointed him out—I won't swear Lynch did not hear me ask for the prisoner; I don't know how he could—the prisoner was not placed with others to be identified by Nail, or Marshall, or any of them; he was on bail, and the usual course was not adopted—he was brought before the Magistrate next morning, and allowed out on bail that day, I think.
Re-examined. There were six, seven, or eight men in uniform in the guard-room; Lynch was there—two corporals walked in with the prisoner, and I asked Lynch to point out the man, and he pointed out the prisoner; the other six seven, or eight were on duty there—they were standing up when Lynch pointed out the prisoner—on the first remand, I think it was Lynch and others were standing outside the, Police-court, and the prisoner, with some of his companions, were there—I said, "Can you see the man that committed this assault?"—they pointed across the road—I said, "Point him out"—they said, "The tall one"—the prisoner was the tallest one—the witnesses did not see the prisoner till the 10th, that I know of; he was on bail after his appearance on 3rd November—no witnesses were shown him on 3rd November, he was on bail before the 10th, and on the pavement on that day—as far as I know the 10th was the first time witnesses were in attendance at the Police-court—I do not know of any witness but Lynch being examined the first time.
By the JURY. I mentioned the name of Beedham at Kingston from information received; I had his description from St. George's Barracks; he joined the militia on the day the warrant was granted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY ,
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
HENRY JOHNSON . I am a boiler-maker, of 10, Dixey's Place, Bermondsey—from 3.30 to 4 p.m. on Sunday, 8th November, I was in the Bermondsey New Road—I went to an apple stall and opened my coat to get some money—a good many persons were standing round about—I was wearing a silver watch and gold chain, worth about £10—the chain was visible when my coat was open—I paid for the apples and was putting them into my pocket when Eaton came up and asked me for a penny, and Smith shoved up against me—I had a good look at him—Sidey took my watch and chain, while Smith and Eaton held me by the
coat—they went oil; I chased Sidey, shouting "Stop thief"—Eaton and Smith hurried away, and I did not see them again till they were in custody—afterwards I went to the Police-station and made a complaint, and gave a description—on 10th November I was called to the station, about 2 a.m., and from eleven to fourteen men I picked out Smith and Eaton directly—on 23rd November I picked out Sidey at the station, directly I saw him, from a number of others—I was not hurt.
JAMES SCANDRETT (Police Sergeant N). On 8th November I received information of this robbery, and a description of the men; and I made inquiries—at 9 p.m. on 9th November I was with Wires in the Bermondsey New Road, and saw Eaton—I said, "Chris, we are police officers; I am going to take you into custody for stealing a watch and chain on Sunday afternoon"—he said, "I know nothing about any watch; I may be a drunkard, but I am no thief"—I took him to the station—about three hours after I saw Smith in the same road; I said, "Smith, I am going to take you into custody for stealing a watch on Monday afternoon"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—on the way to the station he said, "I will blow" (meaning give information) "the whole lot when I get to the station"—at the station Eaton and Smith were placed with about nine others; Johnson was sent for, and picked them out—they no reply to the charge of stealing this watch and chain from Mr. Johnson—on 22nd November Sidey was taken into custody for some other offence—on 30th he was placed with six others, and Johnson picked him out at once—he was charged—he pleaded guilty at the Police-court.
WILLIAM WIRES (Detective M). On 9th November I was with Scandrett when Eaton was arrested—on the way to the station he said, "I may be a drunkard, but I am no thief"—later on Smith was arrested—in the charge-room be called me to him and said, "I want to speak to you, I will tell you the strength of it; when the old man left the stall, Chris (meaning Eaton) "asked him for a penny; while the old man was feeling in his pocket for it he caught hold of his arms, and Johnny Garvin" (meaning Sidey) "stole his watch"—I know Sidey by that name—they were placed with others, and Johnson picked them out.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Eaton says: "I say nothing, but wish to call witnesses; I know nothing about the charge." Smith says, "I was in bed on Sunday afternoon when the affair occurred, and I wish to call witnesses."
HENRY WILLIAM GRANGER . I am a shoeblack, of 67, Bermondsey New Road—at the time of this robbery you were at my shoeblack box, just outside the Pagoda in Bermondsey New Road, having your boots cleaned; it was about half-past three, as near as I could guess—seeing a crowd collected outside the Compasses, a little higher up in the road, you said. "Look sharp," or that would do, or something to that effect; you wanted to get away; you said you wanted to go and see what the disturbance was—I did not see the disturbance, I only saw the man running away—there was an apple-stall nearly opposite to me; he was not near that when I saw him—I heard the disturbance and saw the man running—I could not swear to him, but to the best of ray knowledge I believe Sidey is the man who was running by; he ran down the
turning by the side of the public-house I was standing outside of, Webb Street, I think it is.
Cross-examined. I know Smith: I do not know that he is a friend of Eaton; I had seen Eaton before—at the time of the robbery Eaton was at my blacking box; it was half past three as near as I could guess—I do not carry a watch; I go by the public-house having been closed some time—it might have been getting on towards four; I am not certain as to the time—I believe Eaton's sister came and asked me to give evidence, I would not be certain—I think she said, "My brother wants you to come up and say the time you know of on the Sunday, where he was at the time the robbery took place"—I had not heard the robbery took place at half-past three; it was only from what I saw—there were five or six people about—there was only this one disturbance that I know of—the apple-stall was at Rothesay Street, I think; I could not swear to the name of it—I was convicted of assault outside 67, Bermondsey New Road, by the corner of Rothesay Street, I believe, and had fourteen days.
By the COURT. The disturbance was in Bermondsey New Road, and my shoe box is there.
WILLIAM CHARLES WOOD . I am an oilman's manager, of 73, Bermondsey New Road—I went to give evidence at the Police-court, but was not admitted into court on the second hearing—I was at my window as near four o'clock as possible, and I noticed five men standing on the other side of the way, and stopping people and asking them for something—I turned my back, and no sooner had I done so than I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—the apple-stall is on one side of Rothesay Street, and I was at the other corner of Rothesay Street and Bermondsey New Road—I looked out at my window, and saw an old gentleman chasing a man down Webb Street—I cannot identify the man, because I only saw his back—I ran downstairs, but I could not see a constable—the man came out in Bermondsey New Road—I did not see Smith there, but I saw Eaton.
Cross-examined. There were a number of people about—I am sure I saw Eaton there, but not Smith—Eaton was on the other side of the way with these other five men before the robbery; and I saw him alone when the old gentleman came back, after he bad chased this man—I was subpœnaed by the police on Smith's behalf.
Cross-examined by Eaton. I first saw you at half-past three, as nearly us possible, and it was nearly four when I heard the cry of stop thief—I cannot say if you were near the old man when he lost his watch; I did not see him till I heard the cry of stop thief—I could see the apple-stall from my window; I don't know the watch and chain were stolen then—when I saw you the second time you were outside my shop; I did not notice who you were talking to.
AGNES EVERSON . I am the wife of Harry Everson, a millwright's labourer, of 3, Osborne Buildings, Bermondsey New Road—Sidey is the man that did the robbery; I picked him out at the station, and I could pick out the others if I saw them—you were not there—the old man ran after Sidey.
Cross-examined. I saw the robbery committed—nobody was holding the old man; a tram and two horses were the nearest things to him, and
I was the next—I am Smith's sister—I am quite positive he was not there; I could not say where he was; I don't live where he lives—I saw the men that were there, and I did not see Smith—there were four men standing at the corner, and Sidey walked away when the old gentleman walked across the road, and took his watch and chain, and the old man ran, and called stop thief, and ran after him, and as he got to the turning a toy threw a brick at his back.
RICHARD BRADLEY . I am a journeyman brushmaker, of 2, Paragon Alley, Bermondsey New Road—you live in the same house as I do—you are my mother's tenant—you were in bed when this robbery was committed, at about five minutes to four—Sidey ran by our window at that time—I was looking out of the window—you came into my room before three, it must have been, it was before I had my dinner; you took off your boots and went to bed—our house is about 250 yards from this apple stall; I can see it from the house.
By the COURT. If I said at the Court below that he came home about 3.30, I contradict that now; he was in bed before 3.30—I cannot tell the time within a little; I have no watch.
Cross-examined. No one asked me to give evidence—Smith was taken at the Pagoda—he went out about 7.30 that night—he is a waterside labourer; he finished working on the Saturday about four o'clock—he went to bed that night and got up next morning about 9.30 and went out for a stroll, and then before three he went to bed—he makes it a rule every Sunday afternoon to go to bed if he does not take my children out—it was 3.30 when he went to bed—it was just after three when I got home, and he was having his dinner then.
JOHN GWILLIAM . I am a general dealer—I stand in the Bermondsey Road with potatoes or anything; I live at 6, Marygold Road, Star Corner, Bermondsey—I was in a barber's shop in King Street and saw Sidey run by with the watch, and I saw the old man running—he was not chasing you; I did not see you.
Cross-examined. I was being shaved at the time, and I heard screams of "Stop thief!" and got out of the chair and stood by the door—I had the lather over my face, and people running by stopped and laughed at me—I did not see the watch—I was at the Police-court; I did not hear the prosecutor say that Eaton and Smith did not run the same way as the man who had the watch.
THOMAS SMITH . I am a labourer, of 2, Pagoda Alley, Bermondsey New Road—I am your brother—about 3.30 on Sunday, 8th November, I went home and had my dinner; and in consequence of what my mother said I went upstairs between 3.30 and 4 and saw you in bed—I came down and heard a cry and ran outside, and saw a man running away and an old gentleman following, and a woman running close by the side of him, and my nephew was lying in the road, knocked down by some of them.
Cross-examined. The woman was Mrs. Everson, my sister—she was running to see what was the matter—I saw Bradley at the house—this was a little after 3.30.
Eaton, in his defence, said that he was having his boots cleaned when it took place. Smith said he was in bed at the time.
the others were working men—the prisoners were more respectably dressed than they are now.
GUILTY of larceny from the person.
SMITH then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in January, 1886; and SIDEY**to one in March, 1885, at this Court (There was another indictment against SIDEY for burglary.) SIDEY.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. EATON.— Six Months' Hard Labour. SMITH.— Judgment respited.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
ELLEN FISHER . I am barmaid to Mr. Wilson, of the Feathers, Waterloo Road—about 8.15 on Saturday, 7th November, the prisoner came in and gave me this cheque, and asked if I would ask Mr. Wilson to change it for A. Cook—I took it to Mr. Wilson, who came round to the safe, and gave me £10 in gold, which I gave to the prisoner—I knew Mr. Cook, he is a customer.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The man was in the house about five minutes—I had no suspicion about the cheque—the man looked rather nervous, and did not stand quietly—he had something in his left eye—he had no hat nor coat—he had a check shirt, turned up to the elbows, and looked untidy—you were the man—I saw something the matter with your right eye when I picked you out, it was red, the same as when you came into the Feathers—your eyes are not red now; you have had time to get over it—I know your face, I stood and looked at you.
Re-examined. I am perfectly sure he is the man—I told the policeman he was tall and fair, and described how he was dressed when he came in.
ROBERT CHARLES WILSON . I keep the Feathers, in the Waterloo Road—about 8.15 on Saturday, 7th November, Ellen Fisher gave me this cheque, and made a statement, in consequence of which I gave her ten pounds, which she gave to the prisoner—he is the same man without doubt—Cook is an old customer; I thought it was his cheque—he is a basketmaker in the Waterloo Road.
Cross-examined. The man was in the house for about a minute and a quarter—I asked no questions, my barmaid did—my suspicious were not aroused—the man wore a check shirt, with sleeves turned up—I always notice persons for whom I change notes and cheques—I have no doubt you are the man, from your general appearance and your face; I picked you out from among six others—there were other fair men among them.
ARTHUR MARK COOK . I am a basket manufacturer, of 25, Waterloo Road—I am one of Mr. Wilson's customers—I bank at the Birkbeck Bank—the writing on this cheque is not mine; nor has the form ever been in my possession—on 7th November the prisoner was not in my employment; I did not send him or anyone to change a cheque on that day—about three years ago the prisoner was in my employment; I believe I then banked at the Birkbeck; I cannot say if he could have seen any of my cheques—I am fifty or sixty yards from the Feathers, on the same side of the road.
Cross-examined. When you worked for me I had no suspicion of your being dishonest—I did not write you out a proper character when you left, because you left me in a very dirty way; after I had paid you for ten
or twelve weeks after your accident—you kid your legs broken while in my employment, and then left without giving me notice.
Re-examined. I do not know what he has been doing during the last three years and a half; he went to Smith and Sons—I heard he had been a barman at the York Hotel.
FRANK LOMATT . I am a clerk in the Birkbeck Bank, Southampton Buildings—we have an account in the name of Cook—this form, with eleven others, was issued to Mr. Antoine on October 27th, 1891; it is payable to bearer; he is still banking with us.
ABRAHAM ANTOINE . I am a professor of French, living at 14, Milton Road, Herne Hill—I attend at the Birkbeck Institute—on November 6th I left in one of the rooms there a bag containing documents and a cheque-book, and somebody removed them—I gave information to the police—I did not fill up this cheque, nor did I authorise anyone to do so.
DAVID COX (Detective L). On Saturday evening, 7th November, I received information, and a description, from Mr. Wilson and his barmaid, and in consequence I arrested the prisoner at 22, Tower Street, Waterloo Road—I told him I was a police-officer, and should arrest him for uttering a wortless cheque to Mr. Wilson, of the Feathers, Waterloo Road—he said, "All right; I don't know anything about it"—he was taken to the station and charged with forging and uttering—he made no reply—he was placed with other men, and Mr. Wilson and the barmaid came in separately and picked him out directly.
The prisoner, in his defence, said he was perfectly innocent; that it teas a case of mistaken identity.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FARRANT Prosecuted.
CHARLES PETERS . I am 16—I live at 5, Markby Court, Bow Street—about half-past two, on 8th November, I was in the Waterloo Road; the prisoner said to me, "Tommy, I want to speak to you a minute"—I said, "Yes, sir"—he said, "I have had a few words with my father; you might go across the road to Mr. Van Volen's" (he is a tobacconist on the other side) "and ask him if he will change this for Mr. Cook, the basket maker, opposite"—he gave me this cheque—he said he would give me a shilling for going—I went over to Van Volen's and asked him to change it for Mr. Cook, and he said, "Wait a minute, I don't think I have got enough in my purse; I will come across the road with you"—he was getting outside the door, and Mrs. Cook came running across and caught hold of my arm, and said, "Keep the boy in the shop a moment"—she asked me if it was the man in a light coat; I said "Yes," and she and Van Volen went down to fetch a policeman—lam quite sure the prisoner is the man who gave me the cheque—the policeman brought him to the shop, and asked me if he was the man, and I said "Yes"; and the policeman took him into custody—I had never seen the prisoner before—I did not got the shilling.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was outside the hospital on the same side as Mr. Cook's—nobody was with the man when he spoke to me—I recognised you chiefly by your wearing a light coat, but I can swear to your features—I was in conversation with you for about
a minute—I said I could be sure of you when you came into the shop—I began to cry—I did not say, "If you are not the man, who is it?"
GERARD VON VOLEN . I am a Dutchman.—I am a tobacconist, at 52, Waterloo Road—on 8th November a boy came with this cheque for £8, and asked me to cash it—I had not enough money, and I was just going out of the door when I met Mrs. Cook, the wife of the basket-maker opposite—in consequence of what she said I went down the street to get a policeman—I saw the prisoner near the hospital in the Waterloo Road, walking up and down—I went up to him with the constable, and the prisoner turned round—I said, "I want you; you sent a boy up with a cheque to cash for £8 for Cook"—he said, "I know nothing about it; I am a tradesman in the neighbourhood here; it is a mistake"—I said, "You had better come across to the shop and see the boy"—I had told my people to keep the boy in the shop—as soon as the boy saw the prisoner he said, "That is the man that offered me a shilling to change the cheque"—I sent for Mr. Cook, who came across—I asked him, in the prisoner's presence, if the cheque was his; he said no—I told the policeman he had better take the prisoner—I had never seen the prisoner before—he also spoke about having had a row with his father—it was not the boy, but Mrs. Cook, whe said it was a man with a light coat, and she gave me the build of the man.
Cross-examined. You were going towards the bridge when I came to you—you were walking up and down very slowly—the constable was outside the York Hotel, about twenty yards from my shop; I had to pass you on the other side—you waited for the boy—I am not aware if your shop is at 150, Waterloo Road; I have been told it is—you offered to accompany me willingly—you immediately denied it when the boy said you were the man.
Re-examined. The boy did not come out of the shop with me.
MARTHA COOK . I am the wife of Mark Cook, basket-maker, of 25, Waterloo Bridge Road, nearly opposite this tobacconist's—on 8th November, between two and half-past, I saw a man, who, to the best of my belief, is the prisoner, talking to a lad on the opposite side—I could not swear that lad was Peters—they both crossed the road and stood talking on our side of the way, about seven or eight doors lower down—then the boy crossed to Mr. Van Volen's, and the man ran to the opposite corner, on Mr. Van Volen's side—I was there when the prisoner was brought into Van Volen's shop; I could see he was the man I had seen talking to the boy—afterwards I saw the prisoner among several others.
Cross-examined. I had seen you at Van Volen's before identifying you at the station, but I could not see very much of you at the shop—I was standing up at my first floor front window; I was not watching—I will not swear to you, but I will swear that is the boy the man was talking to—it was rather misty, and I could not swear to the man's features, but to the best of my belief you are the man, and that boy is the boy; I would not swear to him—I can swear to the boy on our side, but not to the boy on the opposite side of the road—I watched because I saw Miss Fisher go past our shop without her jacket—I knew of the facts of that case the night previous.
Re-examined. I waited in the shop before the prisoner came in, and when he came in I saw he was the man that I had seen talking to the boy.
ARTHUR MARK COOK . I am a basket-maker, of 25, Waterloo Bridge Road—I bank at the Birkbeck Bank—this is not my signature to this cheque, nor is it signed by my authority; it is not on a form from my cheque-book—I have asked Mr. Van Volen to cash cheques for me—I do not know the prisoner.
ABRAHAM ANTOINE . I am a professor of French, living at 14, Milton Road, Herne Hill—I attend the Birkbeck Institute, where, on 6th November, I lost a bag containing my cheque-book—this cheque is on a form from my missing book—when I last saw the form it was blank.
Cross-examined. I should say the cheque in this case and the last are in the same writing.
HERBERT PEARSON (Woolwich Dockyard Police 96). On 8th November, about 2.30, I was on duty in the Waterloo Road, when the prosecutor came and spoke to me; and I asked the prisoner, who was close to the hospital, to go with me to the prosecutor's shop—he said, "This is a mistake"—I took him to the shop—the boy and Mrs. Cook identified him—I charged him with uttering the cheque.
Gross-examined. You were walking slowly towards the bridge when I touched you—I did not see you turn round; you made no attempt to make off—you said in the shop it was a mistake, you did not know anything about it.
DAVID COX (Detective L). I received the prisoner on this charge; placed him among a lot of men, and Mrs. Cook identified him—I told him the charge; he said, "I am innocent; there is only the boy's evidence against me"—after the charge was read he said, "I know nothing of it"—I said, "Do you wish to send to any one?"—he said, "No, if I had taken your advice I should not have been here now. I have been led into this"—I have known him for some time.
Cross-examined. After you were put in the cells you sent for me and wished to communicate with your wife—I have known you for three years, and I have seen you constantly with some of the most notorious thieves in the South of London; about two months ago I stopped and cautioned you, and told you I thought you were going wrong, and advised you to keep away from them; one man had just come out of prison, after twenty-two months, and there are six or seven other names could mention—I took you and Bland on suspicion of stealing shoes; I gave you advice then—you said you did not know he had been convicted—I found you had bought and paid for the pair of boots—I have not had a spite against you since then; I did not say I meant to make it hard for you—I took your wife and mother into Court, to order the depositions; I paid 2s. 6d.—I did not tell your wife they would be 12s. 6d.—your wife has been in poor circumstances for some time—I know nothing against your character beyond what I have stated—I was present at the Police-station when you were charged with attempting to commit suicide.
The Prisoner called
were going to the foot of Waterloo Bridge to see Pat Morris, to ask him if he would come and work with you for a little while; the man who had been working for you for three weeks was in the infirmary—you asked me to shut the shop-door and take the key—on the Monday morning I heard you were charged, and your wife asked me to come here and told me to speak the truth.
Cross-examined. I nave been in the prisoner's employment six months—on Sunday he shuts his shop at two or half-past two—this conversation, as to his meeting Morris, took place about two, just as we were shutting up and the prisoner going out.
The prisoner in his defence stated that this was a case of mistaken identity, and he asserted his innocence.— GUILTY †— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILSON Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ADA BILLINGHURST . I am manageress to Mr. Sturdy, of the Rising Sun public-house, York Road, Waterloo—about twenty minutes to one a.m., on 21st November, I examined the premises, and they were quite secure; the doors were locked—there is a safe in the middle of the bar—just after three I was aroused by the police ringing a bell; I came down and saw the safe had been taken from its stand and laid on its front, and the back of it was cut out and was lying by the side; the cement was taken from it, and then there was a layer of sheet-iron, and in that was a hole about as big as my hand—one cord of the fanlight was cut from the bottom; a person could have come through the fanlight if they had climbed up.
Cross-examined. The Rising Sun is opposite the Waterloo Station embankment, at the corner of Vine Street, down which you can get to Hungerford Bridge.
ARTHUR BRADLEY . I am a potman at the Rising Sun—on the morning of 21st November I securely fastened the premises—when I heard the constable ringing the bell I got up and came and looked out at the window, and afterwards went down—I found the further door in York Road standing wide open, and a constable standing inside the door—I saw the safe cut open—I did not notice anything about the Vine Street door.
JAMES STEPHENS (241 L). At ten minutes to three a.m., on 21st November, I passed the Rising Sun, and I was about to try the doorway, when I heard a slight noise—I went to the first glass door, which has glass at the top and wood at the bottom, took off my helmet, and looked in over the glass—it is in the front of the premises—after waiting about five minutes I heard three distinct cracks, and then saw a man's head move about three inches above the counter—the light of the coffee urn on the counter gave a very good light—I heard a noise at the other end of the bar—I went to the corner, and after waiting for about ten or fifteen minutes another constable came over, and looked through another glass door at the corner of York Road; he went for further assistance—after about twenty minutes we got two other constables—one went to the back; Cadwallader went to the York Road, where there are two doors, and Sibley and I went into Vine Street, and then I rang the bell—
Powell looked over the glass where it is frosted, and where I had been looking through; then he rushed towards another door, and I turned my light on and kept it on him, and then I saw Butler—I recognise Powell—I rang the bell again and then ran to the corner, and both prisoners ran out at the end door in the York Road—Powell ran to the left—I and Constable 238 pursued Butler, blowing our whistles, and he was arrested—we found on him a bottle of oil, a knife, two chisels, a wooden wedge, 3 1/2 d., and a watch and chain—he was charged.
Cross-examined. The two men ran to the door at which I was when I rang the bell—they both rushed to the other door—their movements were pretty quick—they ran between us and the light in coming to the door; Powell was looking at me over the frosted glass—I never said that before to-day—Butler turned towards Westminster Road, and Powell towards Waterloo station—the Rising Sun is one of two houses with a turning on each side—I was dodging along from the bell to the door; I was standing on the corner when they rushed by me, they were not near enough for me to catch hold of them; I was seven or eight yards from them—Powell did not deny it to me at all—when the inspector charged them Butler mode no reply, Powell said he knew nothing about it—Powell said he was coming down York Road and was seized by a constable.
Re-examined. He did not say to me he knew nothing about it—the light of my lantern fell full on the glass, and Powell's face was close against the glass; as I had the light turned on they rushed to the door—they were running about inside in a crouching manner, Butler more so than Powell.
FREDERICK CADWALLADER (223 L). On this morning, shortly after three, I had a summons from Stephens and went to the Rising Sun—then he sent me for two more constables; I came back in about ten minutes, and we surrounded the house—we could hear knocking inside, like something breaking—I looked over the glass door and saw somebody moving—there was just a glimmer of light inside—I was stationed between the two York Road doors—when Stephens rang the bell I heard scuffling inside; two or three minutes after he rang the bell again, and then I saw the men looking through the glass door nearest Vine Street—I was looking at the door then—about the same time Powell came out from the other door in York Road, about two yards from me—I chased him between them, three to four yards from him—he ran up York Road, down Sutton Street; I did not lose sight of him, for he took the middle of the road—he went into Early Street, where he threw this jemmy away—he afterwards turned back into the York Road, where I caught him—he was running till I got up to him—he said, "What is the matter? What have you got me for?"—I said, "You came out of the Rising Sun"—I took him to the station—on him were found a knife and a box of matches—I afterwards went back to Early Street and found this jemmy there.
Cross-examined. The man who looked through the glass had no light on his face—I have not said before to-day that I saw a man look through—Powell turned at once from me when he came out, and went away quickly—Sutton Street is about a dozen houses along York Street; it is the turning leading to Hungerford Bridge—I was about three yards behind him—I never lost sight of him—there are two or throe lamps in
Early Street—the prisoner was running till I stopped him; his back was towards me.
GUILTY .—CHARLES BUTLER— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. HENRY POWELL— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
159. HENRY LAMB PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering proposals for assurances of lives of certain persons with the Abstainers and General Insurance Company, Limited, and to three indictments for feloniously demanding money from the same insurance company under the forged instruments.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
(161). JOHN WICKENS (14), WILLIAM DYSON (14), and EDWARD VARNEY , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Alfred Frith, and stealing a purse and other articles.— Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 11TH, 1892.