CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD MARCH 7TH, 1892.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, March 7th, 1892, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. DAVID EVANS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Hon. Sir ARCHIBALD LEVIN SMITH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., and Sir JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , Knt., Q. C., M. P., Recorder of the said City; STUART KNILL , Esq., EDWARD HART , Esq., HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., JAMES THOMSON RITCHIE , Esq., and JOHN POUND , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; Sir WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Knt., Q. C., D. C. L., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL. D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; 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 HALES,
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EVANS, MAYOR. FIFTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two start (**) that they have Seen more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, March 7th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. KEMP, Q.C., and MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted.
CHARLES JAMES CAWTHORN . I live at Leamington, but temporarily in London, and am a land agent—towards the end of August last year I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph—this (produced) is it—I replied to that advertisement, and in reply received a letter signed Frederick William Fryer—in consequence of that I called on the prisoner on 29th August, at his office, in Lowden House, Surrey Street, Strand—he said that he wanted a secretary for a company which had been started some time, and had taken over a paper called The British Building Journal, illustrated—he showed me a paper similar to this—before he showed it me he said the paper was a thorough sound-going concern, and had been running for a considerable period—I perused the paper and said, "You have some good advertisements here, some from leading houses in London"—having had considerable experience in advertisements, and knowing it to be a custom among newspapers to insert dummy advertisements, that is, copies from other papers, I said, "Are all these advertisements genuine? and I pointed to three in particular; one was the Sun Fire Office, one the Birkbeck Bank, and the other the Comptroller of the City—he said that every one of the advertisements was genuine—I then asked him what the circulation of the paper was—he said it was 2,000 weekly—I asked him whether the paper was published regularly every week—he said it had only once missed being published each week from its commencement—as it was about lunch-time, he suggested I had better go and get some lunch and come back in the afternoon, which I did; and he then said he would be pleased to appoint me as secretary on condition that I advanced £100, which would be returned at one month's notice—I replied that I was pleased with the representations he had
made to me regarding the paper, but that as I knew nothing about him I must have some further evidence as to his status—he said, "Oh, I can give you this, Mr. Cawthorn, easily;" and then went on to say, "I have a large estate at Greenhithe, in Kent, for which I paid £20,000, and I am at the present time in receipt of an income, from houses already built on the estate, of over £700 a year," showing me at the same time a plan, with the estate cut up into plots—he then went on to say, "I am one of the surveyors of the London School Board," and also showed me a letter, which he read to me. (Mr. J. M. Kent, managing clerk to the solicitors for the prosecution, proved the service of a notice to produce this letter, by leaving it with the porter at the prisoner's office. The prisoner handed in the letter, which purported to come from the London School Board, dated March 5th, 1891, returning his account to be amended by charging an additional fee)—I think the prisoner said he had charged eight or nine guineas—while looking at the letter he explained the circumstances of the transaction—I said it was only a valuation which any auctioneer or land agent could do, and not any survey at all—he replied, "I know that; I was only showing that as an instance to show how foolish the School Board are; but I have done scores of surveys for them at other times"—after that he said, "I think I have shown you I am a man of position, and the only reason I ask you to advance the £100 is because your position here will be a responsible one; you will sometimes have large sums of money passing through your hands, and as it is usual with all other firms in London, where men hold responsible positions, are asked for adequate security of some kind, I thought I should like to have one also"—he then said, "I want to be absent from town all next week, and I should like to have this matter settled before I go, and should like to have this cheque"—I said, "Relying on the representations you have made to me, I am willing to deposit my cheque for £100, on the understanding that you secure me by giving me one hundred fully paid-up six per cent, preference shares, redeemable at one month's notice"—he replied, "I am a man of honour, and I hope you are, and you may rely on the representations I have made to you"—he then dictated to me an agreement appointing me his secretary at £100 per annum—this is the agreement—the body of it is in my writing, and he signed it—this is the other agreement. (These agreements were both dated 29th August, 1891; the first agreed to appoint the prosecutor private secretary to the defendant, at a salary of £ 100 per annum, and to have Kim proposed as secretary to the British Building Journal; the second stated that in consideration of his having handed him £100, he agreed to transfer to him two hundred fully paid-up shares in the said building society, and to take back the said shares and repay the £100 in the event of the company going into liquidation)—when the prisoner suggested that he wanted to go away the following week, I suggested that I should be absent at the same time to go to North Devon—I wrote these agreements at the prisoner's dictation—he then wanted me to give him my cheque; but as I was not quite satisfied to have to wait till the following Friday week for the shares, I required before parting with my cheque an additional security—upon that he said, "I will give you a cheque on my bankers for £100, but you must not pay it in for a week after you have commenced your duties"—he said I should have my shares on the following Friday week, at the same time he said, "I always keep a
good substantial balance at my bankers, and there is plenty there to meet this cheque"—this is the cheque he gave me. (This was a cheque for £100 on the Western Bank of London, Charing Cross, payable to Frederick William Fryer, endorsed by the prisoner, and was marked, "account closed 13-9-91")—I thereupon gave him my cheque for £ 100; this is it. (This was on the Metropolitan and Birmingham Bank, Limited)—I have since inquired of the persons about the advertisements I saw in the paper. (The prisoner admitted that the advertisements were in his handwriting)—I commenced my duties on Monday, February 7th—I had not been in the office more than an hour before the prisoner came, in great haste, saying he had left his cheque-book behind, and as he had to make a very important payment that morning, would I mind loaning him £40 till to-morrow, in the meantime he would give me, as security, a bill for £44, drawn by a Mr. W. Peek, who, he stated, was a well-known solicitor in London, and a member of the firm of Mason and Co., of 37, Sackville Street—I said I did not know him, and would be glad if he would lend me a Law list—he said he had not one, but I might take his word of honour that it was truth—this conversation took place in his private office, in Surrey Street, Strand—I said, "Upon these representations I will advance you the money until tomorrow"—at lunch-time that day I went and made inquiries whether this Mr. Peek was a solictor, and I found he was nothing more or less than a solicitor's clerk—this is the bill the prisoner gave me. (This was dated August 17th, 1891, payable at the Western Bank of London, Charing Cross)—upon having this bill I gave him my cheque for £40—this is it, dated 8th September, 1891—I did not receive the money on the following day—I received a £10 note about eight days afterwards from the prisoner—upon finding that Peek was not a solicitor, I saw that I had been defrauded, and the next day I made inquiry as to the prisoner's other representations he had made to me, and I found that the paper was not published for three or four weeks at a time, and that the advertisements were not genuine—I have never been able to discover any solicitor named Peek—after I found out, from the fellows in the office, that the representations he had made were false, I went and taxed him pointedly, and said, "What have you to say?"—he said, "I admit I ought not to have made those misrepresentations, but if you stick to me things will be all right later on"—I said, "How can I stick to you? I find you have not even paid any rent the whole time you have been in these large offices, and that three distress warrants have been taken out against you by the landlord, Mr. Home"—I also told him that I found he had left his last office steeped in debt, and notwithstanding that he took these large offices, double the size and more than double the rent; then again I said, "What about the creditors who have been coming in all this week threatening pro feedings?"—creditors had been coming in all day long during the whole time I was there, money-lenders and others—he said, "Dont you fear about them, I have been in this predicament before; let them take proceedings; I can talk any judge or jury over, and then I can plead my age"—I said, "How can I stick to you, a swindler?"—that was all the conversation that took place at that time.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The last conversation I have mentioned took place in your private office—I did not mention that at Bow Street, because I was told to state the simple facts of the case—I solemnly swear
you made that statement—I had never seen you before Saturday, 29th August—you asked me to call in the afternoon of that day to talk the matter over, and it was then I agreed to give you the £100 on the security of the shares—I think I only saw one of the paper then, and took it away—I saw at the bottom of the inside cover that information in respect of the advertisements could be obtained of W. J. King, 15, Walbrook, but I never saw that till the last time; it is not in this one—I asked you if the advertisements were inserted every Friday—I never knew who was the owner of the Greenhithe Estate—I did not see a copy of the contract till I had been three days in the office—nothing was said about the School Board till the afternoon—it was after you had made that statement that I paid you the £100—you did not show me the agreement with the company till after I was in the office—I did not take away a copy of the paper at the first interview, not till I went to North Devon, and you told me to read it while I was away on my holiday—you showed me a number of cheques—when you gave me your cheque you asked me to keep it back till the week after I commenced my duties, and in the meantime I should probably have the shares, and then I need not pay it in—I have not received fully paid-up shares, only the shares that were cancelled; I made out all the shares in the office, yours included—you asked me to make them cut, to fill up my time, saying there was to be a meeting on the Monday; they were made out previous to allotment—I attended two meetings of the directors—I was secretary to the company, but the facts were concealed from me—you told me that the agreements were confirmed, and that they were registered—you afterwards told me that there was no agreement; that was after I found it all out—you wanted the allotment to allow you to borrow money on them; directly you got them you went to several money dealers in the City to borrow money on them, as you were hard up—I was not aware that there was a liability of £2,000 on the shares—you and I were elected as secretaries, but at the second meeting I resigned—the shares I wrote out were cancelled by the directors at the board meeting; I made them out on your instructions—I paid in your cheque on 18th September; I commenced my duties on the 7th—you wrote me one letter while I was away on my holiday—I should not like to swear whether you stated that the company was registered or about to be registered; you told me that the company was already formed, and there had been several Board meetings—you did not show me a prospectus without the names of the directors on it; I never saw the prospectus—you did not tell me that if I came to the company now you could let me have two hundred shares for my £100 out of your own, but that you could not do it after the company was registered; the understanding was that you would secure me by giving me one hundred fully paid-up shares and one hundred ordinary shares—I paid in your cheque on the day stipulated, which was a week after I commenced my duties—I remember meeting you at Mr. Jenkins's office—I then mentioned that a receiving order had been made against you—I did not mention that I had paid in your cheque, because Mr. Jenkins was acting on your behalf—I did not go to him to act for me; I went to him to ask if you owed him money; he told me you owed him £80 or £90, and he was doing his best to obtain it from you—I suggested to him that you had defrauded me—I do not remember saying that the company could not go on—you
did not tell me to stick to the company and not be foolish if I did not want to lose my money—I did not promise to do so—you may have said that if I stuck to the company you would see that I got my money back, but if I resigned I should no doubt lose it—I gave you the £10 in the office; that was in part payment of the £44 bill that you promised to pay me on the following day—I did not tell you when I first came to you that I liked making small loans to people—I never did a loan in my life till I made it to you—I gave you the £40 because you asked me to lend it you, that you would get into trouble if you did not make an important payment that morning—Messrs. Edell and Gordon were acting for me on that date—I had instructed them to write to you for payment of the £44—it was simply a clerical error on their part in applying for the full amount; I instructed them to apply for the amount, less £10—I deny that you discounted the bill for me; you only gave it me as security till the next day; I did not know you, and would not lend money without some security—I made a demand for the £40 the following day—I never told Mr. Jenkins that if you looked after me I could stop any proceedings about to be taken against you—I said I had heard that a solicitor in the City would prosecute you, and I would do my best to stop it for you; I did not add, "if you paid me the money"—I have not the faintest idea of having said so; I went to see Mr. Jenkins under great excitement, and what I really said I don't know—some proceedings were taken against you—I was subpœnaed as a witness at this Court, but was not called; I do not know why—after the meeting at Mr. Jenkins's, I wrote a letter resigning my position as secretary—I did not go to Brighton with you as a friend—I went there on different business altogether, to persuade you to marry the girl you had ruined—I did not dine with you as a friend—I went to the theatre, not with you—I went to see my lawyer at Brighton; he was out; I can't remember his name at the moment—I was in your office after this many times; I was investigating and making inquiries in order to commence these proceedings—you saw me there—I went in there for about an hour every day, to make inquiries about statements I had heard—I never negotiated for the purchase of some houses on the estate at Greenhithe—I was asked to obtain £1,000 on a mortgage of seven or eight cottages there—I went down and saw your assistant there by appointment—that was after you were made bankrupt, after the receiving order—I was working in your room, but not with your assistant; he might have been there, but not the whole time—I have not subpœnaed him or Mr. Winchmore; I believe my solicitors have subpœnaed him—I gave instructions to my solicitors in this matter at the latter end of September; I could not commence all in a hurry; I had to consider the matter for some time—you may have introduced the solicitor's son to me in your office—I knew that solicitor was acting for you in bankruptcy proceedings, not in anything else—I went to him to ask if you owed him any money, because he knew more about you than any other solicitor—I do not think I was present at a Board meeting when you stated that a receiving order had been made against you—I do not remember the directors stating that they had seen the official receiver, and that there was no objection to completing the purchase—I told them that you had defrauded me; I may have said it to all of them; I believe I said it at an open meeting, but I won't swear
that—I believe the company was stopped on account of the receiving order, and the paper not being worth anything—I never heard that your landlord volunteered to find £2,000 to carry on the paper—I have subpœnaed Mr. Hill as a witness—I believe I was here at the last hearing of this case—I never stated that if you took action against me I would protect myself and you should not be able to get a penny from me; that it was all in my wife's name—I never remember making such a statement; I won't swear it—I never saw the agreement or contract of the vendor for the purchase of the estate—you did not say that you were going to acquire the estate, and that a firm of solicitors were willing to advance the money—I did not say that I thought it a very good thing, and that we could work it together—I did not go to the agent for the advertisements, because I never knew that you had an agent—I did not see it on the paper that day; I may have seen it, but I did not notice it that day—I have not been round to a great many of your creditors, to induce them to come and give evidence against you; all who have given evidence were subpœnaed by my solicitor.
Re-examined. I believe the company has gone to smash—it was by the prisoner's instructions that I drew some of the shares before they were allotted—the directors told me to cancel them—I have not received any of those shares, nor has anyone else; I went to Brighton with the prisoner, because he came to me on the Monday after the receiving order and asked me to come down on account of some little trouble he had got into with someone, I think he said he was contemplating marriage, or I may be mistaken about that—I said I was willing to go with him as I had to make a call at Brighton that evening; he said he was staying at the Markham's hotel—he said he had ruined a girl.
FRANK LOMAT I am a clerk in the Birkbeck Bank—I do not attend to the advertisement department—I know what advertisements are given out; there is an advertisement of the Birkbeck Bank in this paper—it was not issued under the authority of the bank, nor did they pay for it; no payment has ever been demanded.
Cross-examined. I have never known any advertisements of our institution having been inserted without payment; I don't know that it is done.
Re-examined. I have not paid for it, or given anyone authority to do so.
HOWARD FLETCHER . I am one of the officials of the Sun Fire Office—I attend to the advertisement department—this advertisement of the Sun Fire Office was not ordered by my authority, nor have I paid anything for it—I know the prisoner—he had an office in Walbrook—I believe he has not paid his rent for those premises; but that is not part of my business.
MINTER NORTON . I am a clerk to the Bridge House Committee; I have to issue advertisements—this advertisement was not issued by my authority, or paid for by me; I should be the person to speak about it.
JOSEPH FREEMAN . I am one of the officials of the Carpenters' Company the advertisement in this paper was not issued by the authority of the company, or paid for by them—if it had been I should be the person to know about it.
the British Building Journal, the prisoner's paper—he first employed us about the beginning of April, 1891; there were twelve issues of the paper altogether, I think—I know nothing of its financial position—we have not been paid a farthing for what we did—my firm are creditors for something over £30 in the bankruptcy proceedings that have been taken against the prisoner—we gave the prisoner a certain amount of credit, and when we pressed for payment he called and produced a telegram which purported to be an offer of some thousands for certain property at Greenhithe, which he explained he was selling, and that we should soon be paid—I formed the opinion from what he said that he had received an offer for certain property of his own—I cannot say whether he said it was his own—he gave us a bill which was dishonoured.
Cross-examined. We saw your manager rather as to details, but I don't think we went into the question of money till we saw you—I know the manager well—if there is any customary credit in our business it is monthly accounts, I think—when we wrote and saw you with reference to the account you referred us to a solicitor—he told me you owed him certain money, and that if I stopped doing your work the paper would be stopped, and we should none of us be paid—I heard from someone about that time that you proposed to form a company to run this journal—I don't remember saving at the Police-court that the solicitor told me that if I stuck to the paper a company was about to take it over and we should be paid, and that on that I agreed to give further credit if you gave us a bill—I presume it was the solicitor who told me about the company—I did not know with regard to the telegram whether it was money to buy the estate or on mortgage—I don't think the telegram I saw was so long as this—I have had a little experience in journalism—if the paper had had money behind it, and was run properly, I think it would have had a success—I was editor of a journal for four and a half years, and I never knew of dummy advertisements put in to fill up until genuine ones were got.
Re-examined. The success of a newspaper depends in a very great measure on advertisements—an advertisement put in and purporting to come from a good source might be a bait for other and genuine ones.
WILLIAM EVERETT . I was formerly the senior partner in the firm of Everett and Son. advertising agents, of Salisbury Square—we published the British Building Journal from No. 1 to No. 11—all the copies did not pass through our hands—I should say the circulation was perhaps something like two thousand sometimes; it was knocked about by interregnums when it was not published—when it came into our firm I was going out of the firm; my son should have been subpoenaed—I have not spoken to the prisoner since he was last here—I do not think the circulation of the paper ever exceeded one thousand copies a week when we published it.
Cross-examined. I stated at Bow Street that I did not know what the circulation of the paper was, we had such a number of copies come back after they were sent out on sale, and that only showed a small circulation—a great number of copies were sent out besides those that came to us, which are all that I know of—I cannot say I remember hearing Mr. Archer say at Bow Street that he never printed less than five thousand copies—we certainly did not have the circulation of that five thousand
copies, but only the quantity sent to us, and I should have no idea what the circulation of the paper was except the number we sent round to our customers—the paper was progressing—I and my son thought that if it had been properly backed up it would have been a success.
CHARLES LENFANT . I am one of the record keepers of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the file of proceedings in the prisoner's bankruptcy—the petition was on 8th August, 1891; the receiving order on 12th September; accounts filed on 6th October—I find no asset worth £20,000, or any other sum the creditors are the Western Bank of London for £50, Burgess £188, Edell and Gordon £70, Imperial Bank £60, London and Suburban Bank £60, and Packman £250; the total liabilities are £2,309 17s. 4d.—there are no assets—he filed an amended statement on 5th December—the date of his adjudication is 10th November, 1891.
Cross-examined. The report of the Official Receiver shows £42 assets.
GEORGE DURNFORD . I am an assistant in the Surveyor's Department of the London School Board—there is one surveyor to the Board, Mr. W. S, Cook, and one assistant, Mr. Green; the prisoner has never been a surveyor in our service—I have been seventeen years in the Board's service.
Cross-examined. "When the Board wish to sell property they engage as independent surveyor to value the property—this is a letter from the School Board—Mr. Helby was chairman of the Works Committee-members of that committee have power to appoint gentlemen to make valuations; they keep no list of such valuers—I believe Mr. Helby nominated you to survey this property—a long period might elapse before a surveyor was called in to make a second valuation for the Board, or he might never again be called in.
Re-examined. The prisoner was called on to make this valuation because he was not in the service of the Board—he certainly could not be described as being in the service of the Board.
ARTHUR HORNE . I carry on business at 4, Upper Thames Street—the prisoner was tenant of some offices of mine at Surrey Street—I have nothing to say against him; he made no misrepresentations to me—I understood that he was an architect—he gave me two satisfactory references—he was there about two quarters—I got no rent from him, but I did not push him; I think he was applied to—I was quite content to wait—this is a most rotten prosecution—I was not examined at the Police-court.
Cross-examined. I am the practical bead of a hardware firm—I have heard of your paper—I thought it would be a great success, and we were quite prepared to take it up—when it stopped for a time I was open to finance it; it was all arranged, and instructions were given for an agreement, which would have been signed in a few days but for the proceedings at the Mansion House.
Re-examined. I have not advanced anything in respect of this paper—it would be such a paper as such people as ourselves would advertise in—I did not advertise in it; it was a new thing—I have not had anything to do with newspapers.
LEWIS CHARLTON . I am caretaker at offices in London Street, Surrey Street, Strand—the prisoner was occupying offices when I went there, and remained there for four or five months after I went—he had no occasion to pay me—Mr. Horne pays me.
Cross-examined. I do not know what I am here for—I should not know if you paid your rent.
The prisoner, in the course of a long defence, said that a company was formed to carry on the paper; that Cawthorn, with others, applied for the secretary-ship; that he never told Cawthorn that all the advertisements were genuine; nor that he was a surveyor to the School Board, although he told him that he had valued for the Board; that he never told Cawthorn that he owned the Greenhithe estate, but that he was going to purchase it by means of a mortgage, for which solicitors were going to find the money; that he made no specific statement as to the issue of the paper being 2,000 copies a week; that Cawthorn's £100 was paid for the purchase of 200 shares in the newspaper company, and that he told Cawthorn that after a month's notice he could have his £100 back in exchange for the 200 shares; and he denied that he had any, intention to defraud.
The prisoner called the following Witnesses.
THOMAS HENRY REES . I am a patentee and financial agent—I occasionally assist in bringing out industrial companies—I have known you for three or four years—you consulted me as to procuring more capital for the British Building Journal, and I suggested that a company would be the best way, and I assisted to form the company—I have a clientele who subscribe to industrial undertakings—I acted as secretary pro tem., up to Mr. Cawthorn's appointment—I was present when he was elected secretary, and I have a record of it on the minutes—I knew afterwards that he held, as your nominee, £100 of interest in the company—I was present when the agreement was adopted by the Board for the purchase from you of the paper; I approved of it—you were to have 1,000 ordinary and 1,000 preference shares, all fully paid, and £500 in, cash—I was present when the shares were allotted to you and the paper handed over—Mr. Cawthorn made out the shares, but they bore a date before that on which the agreement had been filed at Somerset House, which rendered them illegal and we had to cancel them—I was present when you made a statement to the directors that a receiving order had been made against you; we made inquiry of the Official Receiver, and found there was no objection to our going on, and so we went on—the receiving order against you did not stop the company going on, and Cawthorn's. position as secretary was not interfered with—the Official. Receiver claimed the £500; he said that was all he should look after, he did not care about the 2,000 shares—it was proposed that the directors should run the paper until a meeting of your creditors was held, and they were willing to do so—I was present when Cawthorn handed you a letter resigning his position as secretary, I have the letter here in the minute, book—the resignation was accepted—nothing was said about his giving a month's notice, we did not know about that—I never heard that he had been defrauded out of his money by you; I did not know of the money till some time afterwards; that was not the ground of the resignation—I did not hear till afterwards that he had been defrauded of £10O—I don't know that it would have made any difference if we had known it; we appointed him secretary because he was your nominee, and you had brought the company to us—perhaps the directors would have preferred some one with an interest in the company; I don't think it affected us at all—my firm had arranged for a part of the capital to come into the company—my firm was then Harrison, Rees
and Co., now it is Rees and Co.—the prosecution against you by Messrs. Edell and Gordon at the Mansion House stopped the company—I cannot say that we knew till long afterwards (after the committal at the Mansion House) that some of the advertisements had not been paid for—I did not know, and do not know now, that some of them were not authorised to be put in—I know it is usual to put in dummy advertisements into new papers—I don't know if it is so when they are to be turned into a company—it might have made a difference in the value of the paper, as its income might have been less; I don't know how the directors would have looked at it—the directors had a very high opinion that a great paper could be made of it; we did not think its value was very great at that time; consideration was given to that—I was one of the witnesses when Messrs. Edell and Gordon prosecuted you—I am a considerable loser by the paper; the company was taking it over because they had a very extensive channel of their own for advertisements, and that was the reason of their valuing the paper so highly—we had one firm who could have filled it with advertisements, and we did not care what the past had been; we knew what we could make it in the future—I have known you for some time as an architect and surveyor, and I have never known anything of this nature against you—I am a creditor of yours for about £280 I should think.
Cross-examined. No one else is in my firm now—I am the Co. as well as the Rees—I have been in business as a chemist, I am not now—I first promoted public companies for my own patents twenty-three years ago I do not promote companies; I only act as registration agent—I am a financial agent, a person who stands between the seller of an article and the finder of the money—the man who buys an article for sixpence and sells it to the public for £5,000 is not a financial agent, but a promoter—the prisoner was his own promoter in this case—we only registered the company—we had no agreement to get anything out of it; we did it for what we were going to get out of the paper—I cannot say how much we were to get; that arrangement had to come no one can tell, I think, what we were to get—our arrangement was to be after the company was run—the company was not formed—before Cawthorn was secretary I acted as a friend; there was no remuneration—there was no promotion money—I was a friend of the prisoner—I did not know his affairs—I did not know he was asking the public to buy a paper representing dummy advertisements as bona fide—I never inquired—I did not know this was to be sold to the public; it was to be sold to a company—there were only seven or eight shareholders in it—they did not subscribe anything; they were to have done so—the £500 cash was to come from Messrs. Croggon, galvanised iron merchants—I cannot show you any statement by that firm that they ever advanced 1s. in respect of this matter—nobody advanced anything—it never went to the public—I advanced about £120 for expenses of promotion, for registration, and other fees—it would be paid at Somerset House—I paid it it was to be repaid by the company—the prisoner asked me to pay it—if the company was not formed Rees and Co. would have lost the money—I had a partner (Blackham) at the time the company was formed; he was the Co.—there was never a Harrison—I had offices at 32, Craven Street, Strand, for which I paid £110 a-year—I am still there, paying the rent—Blackham is a private
gentleman, not in business—I keep books—I have entries in them showing I have paid money in respect of this company—I have not got the books here—I have only got the minutes of the company here—I have acted as financial agent for twenty, thirty, or forty companies perhaps; twenty or thirty of them are alive—Ford and Co., Limited, and Geo Broughton and Co. are still alive—I acted for Ford and Co. three year ago—I was paid £100 or so, by instalments, for registering that company; we never do any more—the £100 included the registration fees we pay the fees, draw up the memorandum of association, and get it signed—I expected to get this British Building Journal to run—I was to have been a director—the company has not been wound up it exists now; it is proposed to start it now, and I think it will start—I cannot tell whether I propose to pay the same amount for it; that will be the company's business—no other secretary has been proposed than myself—the same gentlemen who did nothing before propose to start it again think.
Re-examined. I have read the prospectus of the company; I don't think there is any false statement here; of course when it was passed as being true we did not know what we know now, but glancing at it I don't know any statement that is wrong—it states that if a circulation of 20,000 is obtained there would be a dividend of 15 per cent, for the shareholders—the prospectus was not going to the public; there would not have been more than seven or eight shareholders in it, and we should not have asked the public to subscribe anything—I know it was open to finance the paper up to £2,000 when it was stopped.
WILLIAM PHILLIP BLACKHAM . I am an independent gentleman—I was first spoken to by Mr. Rees as to joining the company as a director and I agreed, after considering the matter, to become a director—I was present when the prosecutor was elected secretary, and when you mentioned to the directors that a receiving order had been made they were annoyed—I and one or two others went round to see the Official Receiver, and after what he said we should have gone on, but the Police-court proceedings against you by Edell and Gordon stopped the company from completing the purchase—I was present when 2,000 shares were allotted to you—I don't remember whether the prosecutor signed them or whether 200 were in his name—he was acting as secretary at the tune—the directors were willing to carry on the paper themselves after proceedings were taken against you—I am not aware that the prosecutor's position as secretary would have been interfered with on account of the receiving order against you—I don't know if it would have lessened the value of his shares—I was willing to introduce a little capital into the concern—I was not introducing friends with capital at that moment; I had spoken to friends—I was a member of the firm of Harrison Rees and to. at that time—capital was not to be subscribed by my own private clientele, but by the clients of the firm; I believe there were various clients connected with the firm who would subscribe to industrial undertakings—I was a great loser—I do not say that you have deceived me as to the paper.
Cross-examined. Mr. Rees introduced me to the prisoner, who suggested that I should become a director of the company—the others directors were Mr. Rees, Mr. Pressland the prisoner; no others—I have not seen Mr. Rees since last night—we expected to find subscribers from
among the public—we should have gone to the public if we had not found sufficient subscribers among our own people, but we had not got far enough—we were working to promote a company—I don't remember any conversation as to offering it to the public or keeping it ourselves—I am not aware that at any time there were more persons in this company—I think the prospectus was drawn up by the prisoner before we entered the company—I am not doing anything at present, nor have I for some years—I was in a tin-plating business eight or nine years ago, I think—I was only in partnership with Mr. Rees for two or three months—our business was the registration of companies—I have gone by no other names except those of Blackham and Harrison—I was the Harrison, not the Co.—I first became acquainted with the prisoner at the office—if I was introduced to him at all it was by Rees; I was not introduced as Harrison, I signed that name—I have received letters addressed to Harrison, and have gone by that name.
Re-examined. I was at the Board meeting when you proposed Cawthorn as secretary; I presume that was the only introduction I had to him—I was a director at that time—I have house property and independent means—I intended to find money to carry on the paper pending arrangements as to your bankruptcy.
By the Court. I did not advance any money to the paper, but I guaranteed money and had to pay it, and I am a loser.
THOMAS BLOWER . I have had about thirty-four years' experience in journalism; I was the proprietor up to the last two years of the Builders' Weekly Reporter and Engineering Times, which was a paper on much about the same lines as the British Building Journal, and in the same trade—I thought the British Building Journal had a great success before it, with a little capital behind it—I have known you for many years, and have had several transactions with you—I have had a great deal of trouble the last few years in getting money from you—you paid me when you could—further than that I know nothing against you.
GEORGE EDWARD BASSETT . I am employed by the Val de Travers Asphalte Paving Company, and have been subpœnaed by the prosecution—I have advertised in the British Building Journal, and have paid for the advertisement in the usual way, and I have a receipt—it was a thoroughly genuine advertisement.
Cross-examined. I advertised five times in the paper, beginning in June—the date of the receipt is July 30th.
Re-examined. I cannot say whether the paper was a sufficiently good medium to advertise in.
ROBERT WALKER ARCHER . I am manager of the Carlyle Press—we printed the British Building Journal—I gave evidence for the prosecution at Bow Street—we printed 25,000 of the first number, and then 5,000 of the following numbers, with the exception of the last in September, when We had an order for 5,000; but the people who supplied the paper refusing to supply more paper till they got the money we only printed 800—we usually print a larger number when a newspaper is started, for the purposes of advertisement and otherwise—we printed 7,000 up to No. 6, and then 5,000 up to No. 11—there were twelve numbers in all—we print about twenty different papers, some very large ones—it is usual for new and old papers to put in dummy advertisements, especially for new ones.
Cross-examined. I am a creditor against the prisoner—I should not like to give anything for the British Building Journal—there were twelve numbers between April and September: 5,000 copies was the whole issue of one number—there were 5,000 copies a week during the weeks it was published, and the other weeks there was no issue.
ALBERT SOLOMONS . I was subpœnaed on the other side—I gave evidence on the other side at the last trial—I am the owner of the estate at Greenhithe—latterly you had had it in hand to sell; you made plans for some cottages upon it—I gave you the option of purchase—I had a draft contract drawn out for the purchase—I recollect your calling on me with Mr. Fulley, a solicitor, for the purchase of this estate—an offer was brought of £. 3,400 on a mortgage of a portion of the property—I was willing to accept it after some negotiation, the purchase-money to be paid down that you might become a purchaser—practically you had to find no money—I know nothing about who had to lend it; you were to pay; I was willing to have the money down and take a mortgage—I am one of the witnesses who sent up a protest to the judge on the last occasion; I thought it was a malicious prosecution at the time.
Cross-examined. The purchase was never concluded—the prisoner never bought it—I never parted with my interest in the estate.
Re-examined. You could have bought it if you wished on those terms.
JOHN ARTHUR WINCHMORE . I am a surveyor—I was in the prisoner's employ as an assistant for ten months—I am subpœnaed on the other side—when I was at the office I was in the same room with the prosecutor—I was there about three times a week towards the end—the principal part of the work I had to do was on the estate at Greenhithe for builders—I cannot tell that the prosecutor knew that you were not the owner of the estate; I was working in the same room with him, but I certainly did not know what he was thinking about—I don't think we ever talked the matter over—I don't remember that he ever said that you had defrauded him; we did not discuss you that I remember—I do not know whether he told me you were the owner or not; I heard that he had invested £100 in the paper; I do not know that it was on the strength of your being the owner of the estate; I know nothing about it.
MR. CAWTHORN (Re-called). I now remember the name of the solicitor at Brighton; the firm is Stuckey, Son and Pope, of East Street—I called on them on Tuesday evening, but he was not in his office; I can't say the exact time; it was after I left the prisoner—I then went into a shop on the Marine Parade, and then I met you in half an hour as you were going to the theatre—I remember asking you to lend me your travelling cap; we came out of the hotel together—we left London about half-past four or five—I don't remember what time we left Brighton—I called at Messrs. Stuckey's next day, but Mr. Pope, who was acting for me, had left the office.
The prisoner again addressed the JURY, summing up the evidence, and repeating in substance his former arguments.
GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour.
stances in mitigation, and that arrangements were made to take the prisoner abroad.
Discharged on his own recognisances.—To appear for judgment if called upon.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. FARRANT Prosecuted. MARY JOHNSTONE. I am a widow, at one of the Royal Customs Houses—on 16th February I was in Cheapside with my two daughters, one on each arm, on the outside of a crowd, looking into a photographer's window—I saw the prisoner, and moved over to the other side of the window then I saw his face over my shoulder and felt his hand in my dress pocket—I caught hold of his arm, and said, "What have you got your hand in my pocket for?"—he pulled his hand out and ran round the corner—I called out, "Stop thief! stop that man"—I had had this purse in my pocket with pawntickets in it—the prisoner ran down Bow Church Yard and under some horses' heads, and a gentleman caught him—he threw the purse across the road.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was standing outside the window for five or ten minutes—only my daughter was on my right hand, no other person—nobody but you was at my back—ten or more people stood by the shop in front of me; I was outside the crowd.
AGNES JOHNSTONE . I am the daughter of the last witness; I am thirteen years old—on 16th January I was with my mother looking into this photographer's shop in Cheapside—the prisoner put his hand into my mother's pocket and took out the purse—mother held his hand, and then he slipped his hand away and ran down the street, and a gentleman caught him, and he threw the purse over a horse's head—I picked up the purse and gave it to my mother.
Cross-examined. We stood there from five to ten minutes; we moved to different parts of the window—we were outside the crowd of about ten or twelve gentlemen who were in front of the window—I don't think any women were on our right hand; I had hold of my mother's right hand.
CHARLES HERBERT REES . I am a fireman, of 11, Maria Street, Kingsland Road—on 16th February I saw the prisoner in Bow Lane, running from Cheapside—Mrs. Johnstone was running after him; she halloaed, "Stop thief!"—he tried to dodge away in the road, and put his hand in his right pocket and I claimed him—he had this purse in his hand—I said, "What is that you have taken from that woman?"—he said, "Nothing, I have not got anything; it is another man"—I said, "It's a lie; it's a purse; there it is over the road"—I held him till a constable was fetched; he was given into custody.
Cross-examined. I saw the purse in your hand—you threw something over my shoulder, and when I took you you had nothing—the little girl picked the purse up.
the afternoon of this day, to Bow Church Yard, where the prisoner was given into my custody for stealing a lady's purse—I asked him why he did so—he said, "It is not me; it is the man that ran alongside of me"—I took him to the station, and charged him—this is the purse. The prisoner, in his defence, said he was in the centre of the crowd for about three minutes, that then he heard a shout of "Stop that man!" and saw a man running, and that he ran after him, but was himself stopped, and so the other man had an opportunity of escaping.
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in April, 1881. A warder stated that there were ten other convictions against the prisoner.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. E. BEARD Prosecuted.
ARTHUR LORD. I am secretary to the District Messenger Service and News Company, Limited, of 50, Lime Street—we employ a number of canvassers for call-boxes—the prisoner was a canvasser—previous to his coming to us he had been in the employment of the Boy Messengers Company—these forms are given to canvassers to solicit orders on—the prisoner was instructed to go into the Paddington District to obtain orders; on each £1 1s. subscription order he was told he was to receive 2s. 6d. commission, and on each non-rent paying order he was to receive is commission—our regular instructions to canvassers are that orders are to be handed in on Friday night, and commission would be paid on the Saturday—I do not know if he was absolutely given instructions to that effect—he had been in our regular employment about a month—I cannot swear to the prisoner's writing—we had reason to believe the orders he brought were incorrect, and we sent out circulars—we gave instructions to Sergeant Outram, in consequence of what we heard, and the prisoner was taken into custody.
HENRY ASHER TOBIAS . I am cashier in the prosecutor's employment—the last time the prisoner presented his orders and I made him any payment I told him that he must send them in on Friday—that was the 3rd February—on 6th February he handed me this order, purporting to be signed by William Hale, 13, Upper Westbourne Terrace—the writing is very like the prisoner's, disguised; I would not swear it was his—there is on it "E. Green," stamped by an Indian-rubber stamp, I believe—the prisoner told me he used an Indian-rubber stamp—I made the remark that the name on the order was spelt without the final "e" he used, and he said, "Oh, that is the fault of the person who made the stamp"—he did not say whether the stamp belonged to him, or whether he had ever used it—I never knew of it as belonging to the company—he represented this as one of the orders that he had received that week, and I paid him 2s. 6d. for it, because I believed it to be a genuine signature and a genuine order—at the same time he handed me this order, purporting to be signed F. Elder, Cleveland Gardens—the writing is very like prisoner's, disguised, but I cannot swear to it—it is stamped "E. Green"—it was handed in as one of a lot of orders, and I paid the 2s. 6d., believing it to be a genuine order and a genuine signature—on the 6th February he handed me this order purporting to be signed Chas. Turner, 115, Westbourne
Terrace, and stamped "E. Green;" and I paid him the 2s. 6d., believing it to be a genuine order with a genuine signature—on the following Friday when I told him he must give his orders in on the Friday he did so—I made inquiries, and as the result of those he was given into custody on the next day, 20th.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You handed in the orders on the Friday in a letter I think addressed to a clerk who handed the letter to me—I received the documents early on Friday afternoon—I had never before received them on Friday afternoon—I cannot swear that the other clerk did not receive them on Friday afternoon.
By the Court. I have paid him the 2s. 6d. on each of these orders myself.
FREDERICK ELDER . I live at Cleveland Gardens, Holland Park—I gave no order for a call-box to the prisoner—I did not hear about it till I was at the Police-court—I had not seen the prisoner before then—I did not sign this order.
CHARLES TURNER . I live at 115, Westbourne Terrace, and am a Justice of the Peace—I gave no order to the prisoner for a call-box—I had not seen him before I was at the Police-court—I know nothing of this order—it is not signed by me nor with my authority.
ROBERT OUTRAM (Detective-Inspector, City). I received instructions from Mr. Tobias, and on Saturday, February 20th, I saw the prisoner at 50, Lime Street, and told him I was Detective-Inspector Outram, and that he was charged with obtaining money upon these forged orders—he made no reply—he made no answer to the charge at the station.
The prisoner called as a witness to character,
HON. PATRICK BOWES LYON . You were in the employment of the Boy Messengers and Electric Call Company, of which I am managing director—I always found you very useful as a canvasser, and you were thoroughly reliable until we were obliged to prosecute you for cutting our wires—you were sentenced to one month—after you came out of prison you came to me, and after consideration I took you on again, and you proved yourself very useful for about three weeks, and then you gave notice and went into the service of the District Messengers and News Company, who carry on the same line of business as we do.
Cross-examined. For a short time at first he was paid by commission, afterwards by salary.
GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. FINCH Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
ARTHUR ROBINSON . I am a seedsman of 8, Leadenhall Street—the prisoner was in my employment for rather over five years; he left in November—he had duplicate keys while with me—he gave them up on leaving, and a lad, Ernest Martin, the prisoner's successor, had them—on 16th February I instructed a constable to look after my premises during the night, and I locked up the premises, locking the policeman inside—they are only business premises, a shop and a cellar—no caretaker or any person resides on the premises
—between November and February I had missed money from my offices—the prisoner had no right to any keys belonging to my establishment, and had no right on my premises at all—I believe there was a hat belonging to him there; there was nothing else there belonging to him that I know of—he has several times come to see me in business hours; he is a lad I have had great interest in.
Cross-examined. My business hours are from about half-past eight a.m. till half-past eight p.m.—I did not know he had left two coats at my shop; I should say he had not; there are no coats belonging to him there—he said at the Police-court that he came to fetch a hat and coat—keys were given to him while he was in my employment that he might get into the shop at any time—he did not tell me that he had a duplicate key made in case he should lose his; he had the keys just over two years—his age was twenty-two when he came to me—it was not his first place—I knew him from the time he left school—he had the right to come in and out, and he had management of the place during the five years he was with me.
EDWARD MARRIOTT (860 City). On 16th February, in consequence of instructions from Mr. Robinson, I spent the night in his shop—at eight next morning I heard the key go into the lock of the gate, and I saw the prisoner enter the door and come into the shop—he went out again and took the iron gate off the hinges and brought it into the shop—I got from behind a curtain and said, "Who are you?"—he shouted, "Good morning"—he bolted out into the street, and I missed him among the passers-by, and saw no more of him till the 1st of March, when, in consequence of information, I went to Bobbington, in Kent, and saw him—I told him I should take him into custody for breaking and entering his late master's premises for the purpose of committing a felony—he said, "I am glad you have come; I am glad it is all over. I did not go there with a felonious intent; I went to get a coat that I had left there"—at the station he made the same reply to the inspector.
Cross-examined. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when he came into the premises.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, March 7th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted. WILLIAM MYERS. I live at 24, Beak Street, Soho—on Saturday, 9th January, about 9.45 p.m., the prisoner came in for a pennyworth of lint and a pennyworth of wool, and gave me a bad half-crown—I sect for a constable, who said, "Have you got any more like this?"—he made no reply—he refused his address—he produced two shillings, a sixpence, and threepence.
JEREMIAH COLBY (76 C). I was called, and asked the prisoner his name and address; he refused—I said, "Have you any more counterfeit coin?"—he said, "No," and turned out two shillings, a sixpence, and threepence—I took him to the station.
then read: "I am manager to Mr. Graves, of 60, New Oxford Street, provision stores. I remember the prisoner coming to the shop on the 21st September, about eight p.m.; he called for a tin of rabbits; I gave it to him. He tendered me a half-crown; I examined it, and broke it in pieces. I asked him if he had another coin; he could have seen me break it. He asked why I wanted another; I said it was a wrong un, and asked where he got it. He said he got it from a public-house, but could not say which; I sent for a constable, and gave him in custody. I gave the pieces of coin to the constable; they are now produced.")
JAMES OLDING (269 D). On 21st September I was called to Mr. Graves's shop, and saw George Francomb, who said that the prisoner came in and asked for a tin of potted rabbit, and produced a bad half-crown, which he tested, and broke it—it was in three pieces; one piece has been lost—the prisoner said he had been drinking,. and changed a sovereign at a public-house, and he must have got it that way—he gave his name Charles Everest—a good florin was found on him—he was charged and discharged, there being only one case against him.
He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of a like offence on October 20th, 1884.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted. ROSA JANE WELLS. I am a clerk at the Post-office, 227, Maida Vale—on 19th February the prisoner came for a postal-order for ten shillings, and gave me a five-shilling piece, two florins, a shilling, and the cost of the order—I said, "This is not a good five-shilling piece"—he said he got it at Short's in the Strand—I gave it back to him, and he paid with a good half-sovereign—I have no doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It was eight o'clock or half-past.
LAURA SABEY . I assist my brother, a baker, of 4, Victoria Terrace, Willesden—on the night of February 20th the prisoner came in for four sponge cakes, and gave me a five-shilling piece—I gave him the change and ho left—I kept the coin in my hand, having my suspicions—I found it was bad, and somebody fetched him back—I told him it was bad, and my brother gave him in custody—he returned me the cakes and the change.
JOSEPH SABEY . I am a baker—I was called into the shop when the prisoner was brought back, and asked him if he had any more of those about him—he said, "No"—I said I should have to detain him till a friend of mine came—he said his name was George Forder, of 15, Webber Street, Westminster Bridge Road, but at the station he said that that address was false, and he knew the coin was bad, but he had taken it at Short's in the Strand.
Cross-examined. You said you were very sorry it was a bad one—I cannot give you the exact words.
By the COURT. He might have said, "If it is bad I am sorry for it"—he said he knew it was bad, but possibly he meant he knew it because my sister had told him so.
it was bad; he got it at Short's in the Strand in change for a sovereign in having a glass of port wine, between one and two o'clock that day—I found on him a purse with a sovereign, a shilling, and some bronze in it, all good—he refused to give any name or address at the station—I made inquiries at Webber Street.
Cross-examined. The shilling and two sixpences were in your purse. I took them out.
Prisoner's Defence. My witnesses are not here, or they would prove that on Friday night I was in their company from six to nine; we went to a party—on Saturday the 20th I admit I went to the shop, but I had no idea the money was bad—the two shillings were in my pocket and not in the purse at all—it is the first time I have been in trouble.
GUILTY — Six Months Hard Labour.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM WALKER . I am a confectioner, of 64, Broad Street, Bloomsbury—on 26th February the prisoner came in for a penny mince pie, and put a half-crown on the counter; I broke it in half with my teeth—these are the two pieces—I asked him where he got it; he said he did not know—I gave him in custody with the coin—he said he believed a cabman gave it to him.
GEORGE MCGWIRE (71 E). The prisoner was given into my custody; he said that a cabman gave him the coin for holding his horse—Mr. Walker gave me these pieces of a coin—the prisoner gave his address, 20, Union Street, Borough.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that a cabman handed him, at he thought, three penny pieces for minding his horse, but he found afterwards that it was two pence and the half-crown in question.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CHARLES DEARLE . I am employed at Mr. Mears's, a butcher, 27, Featherstone Street—on 15th February the prisoner bought some meat, value 3d., and gave the man a florin, which he pave to me, and I gave him the change, and threw the coin into the till, where there was no other florin—I afterwards found it was bad—on February 20th the prisoner came again, and bought meat, value 3d., and threw a florin on the block—I said, "This is a bad two-shilling piece, and we had one of them from you on "Monday."—he wished to pay for it, but I sent for a constable.
RICHARD GUEST (228 G). I was called, and Mr. Mears gave the prisoner into my custody for uttering a bad florin, and said that he had been there on a former occasion—he said he had never been in the shop before—I found two good half-crowns on him—he said that the charge was false.
Prisoner's Defence. I went in to get a bit of steak for my breakfast, and he said the florin was bad, and called a constable.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. LYNE Prosecuted.
HENRY DODD . I am a wood carver, of 18, Delamere Street, Paddington—on 23rd February, about 11 p.m., I was in Hyde Park, going towards the Marble Arch, and met the prisoner—he said, "How are you? are you going to give us a drink?"—I said, "No"—some people passed, and then he said, "I am hard up; I am going to have ft drink; give me half-a-crown"—I refused, and he took hold of my arm and swung me on the side path, and put his hand across my back and pressed me close to him—I tried to get away, but seeing no one about I promised to give him a half-crown if he released me, and put my hand in my pocket—he tripped me up and knelt across my legs, and tore away my watch and chain and papers—he wanted to know what money I had got on me—I said, "I have not got any"—he said, "If you give me £5 you shall have your watch and chain back"—I said, "I have not got £. 5, but you shall have all I have"—he let me get up—I put my hand in my pocket, and he seized it with two florins and a few coppers in it—I said, "Now give me my watch and chain"—he held his foot up, and said, "If you make any alarm I will strike you dead"—I saw a constable coming, and called him, and told him the prisoner had stolen my watch and chain; he took it out of his pocket and gave it to the constable—I saw him searched; some papers of mine were found on him, besides the money.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I offered you 30s. to give me back my watch and chain—I did not call for help, because you said if I raised an alarm you would strike me dead—I did not ask you to come for a stroll with me—you had hold of my hand when the policeman came up.
RICHARD STOCKWELL (135 A.). On 23rd February I was on duty in the Broad Walk, and Dodd called to me to take the prisoner, for stealing his watch and chain—the prisoner said, "Here is his old watch and chain, I don't want it," and handed them to me—when we got to the open part of the park he struck me in the eye—I blew my whistle, threw him to the ground, and took him to the station—I found these invoices on him, £2 in gold, 9s. in silver, and 8 1/2 d. in bronze.
Cross-examined. You resisted me before I blew my whistle; you said, "There is no cause to blow your whistle, I will walk quietly"—I blew it because you refused to go at first.
By the COURT. When I first saw him he was having very high words with the prosecutor; I had not observed them long.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said that the prosecutor gave him half-a-crown and asked him to go for a stroll, when the prisoner said, "You might as well give me your watch," which he did but gave it back when the policeman came; and that the prosecutor at first refused to give him in charge.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, March 8th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
325. CHARLES EDWARD BRADBURY (21) to stealing while employed in the Post Office a letter and two postal orders, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
326. ALFRED DIXON (59) , to stealing a post-letter containing a postal order and a locket, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
327. FREDERICK ERNEST HERRICH (26) , to embezzling a cheque for £18, also orders for £7 5s., £7 10s., and £8; also to three indictments for forging and uttering the endorsements to the said orders; also to making false entries in the books of John Albert Barnfield and others, his masters.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
328. FRANCIS MONTAGUE WAY (40) , to forging and uttering an order for £10; also a cheque for £20; also to unlawfully falsifying certain books of Thomas Bailey, his master.— Three Years Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
329. CHARLES DARLOW (30) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Arthur Wilson, and stealing a ladle and other articles, value £300, his property, after a conviction of felony on June 21st, 1886.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
330. JOHN SCOWEN** (24) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Gregory, and stealing a coat, his property, after a conviction of felony at (Clerkenwell on 7th July, 1890, in the name of John Stone. Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
332. JAMES GRADY* (20) , to breaking and entering a mission-hall, and stealing one box and other articles, after a previous conviction.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
WALTER FRANCIS LOWMAN . I am an overseer at the North-Western District Post Office—on 4th March, in consequence of a communication from the postman, I examined the letter-box in the Mornington Road, and found in the aperture, a quantity of yellowish sticky matter—I went to a public-house opposite, and watched—about 1.45 the prisoner went the box, and placed both his hands in the hole, and, after fumbling about, about two minutes, I went across—he saw me, and took his hand out and went across the road—I overtook him, and asked him what he was doing—he said, "Nothing"—I said I should detain him—he said, What for? '—I said, "For tampering with the pillar-box"—I asked him again what he was doing—he said, "Posting a letter"—I asked him the address of the letter—he said, "Birmingham"—I said, "We ill have the box cleared and examined—I showed him the sticky stuff the hole, and there was some on his hands—he was asked the address on the letter again, and said he did not know; a gentleman had given to him to post—I took him to the General Post Office.
in—I asked his name and address, read to him a statement which had been made, and asked him to turn out his pockets, and among other articles he produced this bird-cage tin, containing this sticky substance—I asked him what it was, he said, "Bird lime, I bought two-penny worth for bird catching"—I told him it was the same substance as was found on the letter box—he said that probably when he posted the letter he had some of it on his hands which adhered to the box—I told him some of the matter was there before he went to the box—he made no reply—I gave him in custody.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I own I had the stuff with me; I had no intention whatever of taking letters.
GUILTY* on the Third Count.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted, and MR. POLEY Defended.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.,
JOHN LISTER SHERRARD . I am one of the firm of Sherrard and Cope-man, of Bedford Row—the prisoner was our collector, at a salary of £1 7s. 6d., and a commission on his introductions—he had to devote his whole time to our service—we have two classes of clients, those who pay weekly and those who pay quarterly—among those who pay weekly were Mr. Glascoe and Mr. Speller—this receipt-book was in our office; it is only for the quarterly tenants—it is consecutively numbered—if you come to pay your quarterly rent, the clerk gives you one of these printed receipts, and enters on it your name and the date—a quantity of receipts are missing from the end of the book, and nothing is entered on the counterfoils—Mr. Glover's rent is £8 10s., but I did not receive it from him on October 21st—this receipt is in the prisoner's writing; the number is 2,246; nothing is written on the counterfoil; the prisoner ought to have filled it up, but he has not done so—there are a number of receipts before that which he could have used—this receipt of 14th January, 2,243, to Mr. Glover, is in the prisoner's writing, but he has written nothing on the counterfoil—this is a receipt to Mr. Speller for £8 for a quarter's rent, on January 7th; I have never seen a shilling of the money—it was the duty of any person who receives money to make an entry in the cash book—I find entries in the cash book in the prisoner's writing on October 24th, but there is no mention of £8 10s. received by him on that date—the cash-book of 7th January, 1892 is at the office; I have been over it, and I am prepared to say that there is no entry in it of these three amounts—on 14th January the prisoner gave notice to leave, and he should have left about February 1st—we give the tenants about three weeks' grace—on February 1st my partner received this letter in the prisoner's writing. (Stating that he went to the theatre with his wife on the previous Friday with some of the firm's money in his pocket, and was robbed of £27 3s. 6d., giving the items, but that he was not in a fit state to inform them of the fact when he left.)—upon that I made inquiries, and on 2nd or 3rd February
gave him in custody—on receiving that letter I found that our cashier Caird had been stealing too—he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to one month by the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House.
Cross-examined. I do not know whether any attempt has been made to get Caird here to give evidence—I do not know that it was set up at the Police-court that the prisoner had paid Caird the money he collected in October; I was not there—we gave him a good character when he left—I do not know that on many occasions the prisoner did not pay Caird till some days after the money had been collected, and that Caird then entered it on the counterfoil—there are many blank counterfoils, both at the beginning and the end of the book—my partner and I tore out those at the beginning—Caird would tear some out if we asked him, leaving the counterfoils blank; we should not watch him to see where he tore them out from—the prisoner was entitled to collect the rents, he did so on previous occasions and paid them in of his own free will—he has torn out the receipt, got the money, and paid it to Caird—the prisoner's wages were £1 7s. 6d., and we paid his expenses in addition.
Re-examined. We did not know these things at the time we gave him a good reference—Caird is suffering imprisonment, for money paid to him in the office, but nothing to do with this matter—the letter stating that the money was in his pocket when it was picked is in the prisoner's writing.
WALTER JOHN COPEMAN . I am in partnership with the last witness—I tore out the receipts at the beginning of this book, of which the counterfoils are blank, all at once—I have never received from the prisoner the sums mentioned in the indictment.
Cross-examined. I went to the prisoner's house with a detective when he was taken—he said—"If you go and ask my wife, who is upstairs, she will corroborate that"—I did not go up, she came down and corroborated what he said—I saw no servant; I did not go inside the house—he was in our employ four years; we had no character at all with him—my partner gave him a reference when he wished to make a change.
FREDERICK HOLMES (Detective Officer). I took the prisoner, and told him the charge; he said, "What shall I say?"—I said, "You are not obliged to say anything; what you do say I shall repeat to-morrow to the Magistrate"—he said, "I went on Friday night with my wife to the Grand Theatre, and my pocket was picked"—I said, "Did you report your loss to the police?"—he said, "No; I did to two attendants at the theatre."
RONALD BROWN COCKRELL . I am a clerk to Messrs. Sherrard and Copeman—on 30th January I received instructions from Mr. Caird, and copied some letters addressed to Glazier and Speller—I do not think I put them in envelopes—I usually post the letters, but on January 30th I gave them to the prisoner, because he asked for them.
Cross-examined. Caird was my master practically.
Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE VENT . I am check-taker at the Grand Theatre, Islington—on 25th January the prisoner and his wife came to me and made a complaint—he was in a very agitated condition; like a man who has had a severe shock—the theatre was not over, but they left.
Cross-examined. There are police officers on duty at the entrance—the prisoner was in the amphitheatre—it would not take a man five minutes to go from there to the police—his complaint was that he had lost a bag out of his pocket with £15 in it; not £27—I told him to go to the policeman, out he said it was no use looking after money—this was Monday, January 25th; it would not be correct to say that it was Friday.
Re-examined. The amphitheatre was very full.
JAMES HUGHES . I am an assistant at the Grand Theatre—I was with Vent on Monday evening, January 25th, and remember the prisoner coming up and making a complaint—he was very excited—the performance had not commenced—there was a tremendous crowd—complaints are made nightly.
Cross-examined. I saw him pass the barrier, and asked him if he wanted a check, to come back—he said, "No"—I was on the landing; there was a fireman downstairs at the pay-box, and policemen.
GUILTY — six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. A. METCALFE Prosecuted.
ARTHUR BUTCHER . I am landlord of 49, Rupert Road, Holloway—the prisoner and her husband rented my top back room for four days—another lodger named Hayes was in the house—on 11th February, about 5.20, she called me up to the top of the house; I found the prisoner's room full of smoke, and saw her pulling a mattress apart on the floor; it had been torn open, and was in flames—I told her if she did not get away I should push her away—she was drunk; I went down and got a pail of water, and I had to shove her out of the way while I threw the mattress out at the window—she swore at me—the boards were burnt—she was given in custody—I touched the grate, and found it was cold; there was no light except a burning lamp—there was a box of matches, which the constable took.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You and your husband had been fighting all day long.
ELIZABETH HAYES . I am a widow—I occupied the next room to the prisoner—on 10th February, at five o'clock, I found my place full of smoke, and called Mr. Butcher—I saw the prisoner with matches in her hand and the mattress alight—I saw her stoop down in the direction of the corner which was not alight—she did nothing to put the fire out Mr. Butcher brought some water, but she did not help him—he threw the mattress out at the window.
Cross-examined. You did not try to put the fire out.
ROSETTA BUTCHER . I am the wife of the first witness—I heard Mrs. Hayes scream, and went upstairs with my husband, and saw the prisoner striking matches as fast as she could—she lit the mattress with them—she took an armful of straw in, ten minutes before I ran upstairs—she
said, "You shall die like a dog at my feet," but I do not know what she meant.
Cross-examined. The place was so full of smoke that I could not get my breath—you did not give me the street-door key and say you should not come back any more.
HENRY WARNER (317 Y). On February 11, at 5.20, I heard shouts of "Fire," and saw smoke coming from 49, Rupert Road, and saw Mr. Butcher throw out a blazing mattress—I rushed upstairs and found the house full of smoke—Mrs. Butcher said, "She is trying to burn the place;" the prisoner said, "Yes; I did set it alight; you should not have taken my things"—the cupboard and the floor boards were scorched—the grate was quite cold—there was no light in the room, only smoke—the floor was covered with water and burnt shavings—the prisoner was slightly under the influence of drink—I took her to the station; she said, "I did set light to it, and by Christ I will burn the whole lot"
Prisoner's Defence. I am very sorry, but it was all an accident.
GUILTY .— Two Months' Hard labour ,
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 9th, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
337. FLORENCE ETHEL OSBORNE (26) was indicted for stealing a pair of diamond earrings and-a pair of pearl earrings, the property of George Hargreave; also to having committed wilful and corrupt perjury in the evidence given by her on the trial of an action before Mr. Justice Denman.
MESSRS. C.F. GILL and FORREST FULTON appeared for the Prosecution; SIR CHARLES RUSSELL, Q. C., with MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. LEWIS COWARD, for the prisoner. To both indictments the prisoner
PLEADED GUILTY . She was strongly recommended to mercy by Mrs. Hargreave.— Nine Months' Imprisonment, with such hard labour as is consistent with her weak condition.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, and MESSRS.
THOMPSON and BOND Defended.
EMMA SMITH . I am the wife of Ambrose Smith, and live at 42, Smith Street—the deceased, Mary Elizabeth Swift, was my sister—she was forty years of age—she had been separated from her husband ten or eleven years—she had been living with the prisoner for four or five months prior to her death—she was living with him at 100, North Street, Chelsea—I last saw her alive on Thursday, 4th February, about two o'clock—she was then sober and in good health—I saw her dead body on Friday morning.
Cross-examined. The deceased's first husband is dead; she has been married twice; the second husband is alive—after she separated from him she lived with another man, by whom she had four children, two are dead—she married her second husband in 1871—she left him about eleven years ago—I have not been in a public-house with her while she lived with the prisoner, or before, unless she went in with me to have a
glass—I never visited her—there was no cause of jealousy between the prisoner and deceased that I know of.
Re-examined. The man she lived with before the prisoner is alive and about London now.
ELIZA MILLS . I live at 89, North Street, Chelsea—I keep a shop there—on the 4th February the deceased came to my house; the prisoner came about ten minutes afterwards, and they met there at from half-past five to a quarter to six; about seven, I and the prisoner, the deceased and a man named Tutt went together to the Hope and Anchor public-house—we had some drink there—we went on to other public-houses, among them to the Cranley Arms—while we were there the potman said, "Anyone of the name of Noble here?"—the prisoner said, "Yes"—the potman said, "There is a lady wants to see you in the next bar"—the prisoner got up on a seat and spoke to someone over the partition—the deceased said to him, "That is another of your beautiful women I suppose"—I did not hear the prisoner make any answer—we then all went to the Enterprise public-house—the prisoner left us there—I waited for him about a quarter of an hour, but he did not return—we then all went and met him at Beauchamp Place, all four of us—Tutt, the deceased, and the prisoner went out of there together; I followed shortly afterwards—I left the deceased and the prisoner at the corner of North Street, where they lived—I wished them good-night, and thought they were going home—during the evening the prisoner said to me, "My old woman looks very happy with your old man to-night," referring to Tutt, as we came out—she was walking with Tutt, and speaking to him—I replied, "Oh, take no notice of that; they are all right"—as far as I saw the prisoner and deceased seemed on good terms.
Cross-examined. I am married—I am not living with my husband—I am living with Tutt—the deceased came by herself on 4th February she waited till Tutt came in—they had nothing to drink in the house; I am quite sure the prisoner had not, the deceased and I had a glass of beer between us—the Hope and Anchor was the first public-house we visited, we each had a glass of stout there, nothing else, no whisky; we then went to the Goat and Boots and had a glass each there, and also at the Cranley Arms; that was where it was said a lady wanted the prisoner—I daresay the deceased would be very angry about that—at the Cranley Arms we had whisky and water, no stout—we all four had twopennyworth of whisky each—at Beauchamp Place I said to the prisoner, "You are a good sort of man to leave us like that," or something like it—I don't know what reply he made, or whether he laughed—I think he did—we went to the Grove Tavern, I had a glass of stout there—the prisoner and deceased had nothing—they and Tutt went out together, and I found them outside when I went out—Tutt had known the deceased a long time as a girl living in the neighbourhood, for about twenty years, close to her mother—from seven till half-past ten the deceased, the prisoner and Tutt were drinking in these public-houses; when we separated I daresay we had had enough to drink; I was not drunk.
Re-examined. The prisoner could walk straight when he left us, and the deceased also.
lived together there, they occupied the front parlour, the back parlour, and the back room first floor, and the top rooms at the back—the two parlours are on the ground floor—they slept in the front parlour; I occupied the room immediately over that—they had been there for some time before Christmas; I daresay for four months—on 4th February I went to bed between nine and half-past nine—I did not hear the prisoner and deceased come in—about eleven there were two knocks at my door—after a time I answered—I then heard the prisoner say, "Will you come down? Elizabeth is dead"—I said, "Never," and as he walked away from the door, he said, "I have cut her throat"—I did not hear him go downstairs—I heard people running in the street, and talking; I then got up and went down in a few minutes—I did not see anybody in their room; all the doors were open—there was a crowd outside the Friend-in-Hand public-house, two or three doors below—I did not go into the prisoner's room till the police came; I was at the door when the police took charge of the place; I left them in charge, and went upstairs—as far as I observed, the prisoner and deceased apparently lived very comfortably before he was out of employment—he was a chimney sweep—I think he fell out of work about Christmas time, or a week after; I could not say exactly—he earned a little after that, not much; he earned what he could—they were pressed for money, I think; I heard them want money to pay their rent—there were several quarrels, but not of a serious nature, words, generally about money matters, and jealousy—on one occasion they were not quarrelling, they were talking; the deceased was sitting sewing in the back kitchen, and they were laughing, and the prisoner said, "Oh! you blue-eyed beauty, if you have deceived me I will walk with a firm step to Newgate for the woman I love"—I can't remember how long that was before the 4th February; it might be a fortnight or three weeks, but they were very happy together after that—about Christmas time I lent the prisoner a razor to shave with; it was a. very old one—I saw a razor with a case produced at the Police-court; it was like the one I had lent him.
Cross-examined. The deceased asked me to lend the razor to him, but I gave it to him myself; I asked my husband, and he said it was of no use—I gave it to the deceased, not to him; it was quite rusty and very old—the prisoner did not ask me for it; the deceased asked me—I told her it was of no use, but I took it down, because they should not say we were unkind not to lend it—when the prisoner said "I have cut Elizabeth's throat," I did not get up because my husband said "Never mind," we thought they were only quarrelling; we did not want to mix up with other people's quarrels—I had no reason to believe that such a thing had. happened—I have never heard the prisoner threaten the deceased or call her any names, except a blue-eyed beauty, and then he was laughing—I did not recognise the voice when he called out, "Will you come down? Elizabeth is dead"—I should have known it was him, because there was no one else in the house—I never heard him mention the name of the man when they quarrelled about jealousy; it was someone she was very familiar with.
Re-examined. I was asleep when he knocked at the door; I knew his voice; I thought it was the prisoner's voice.
was in bed—I heard as if it was one person coming in, and I heard him go into the back parlour, which I call the kitchen, one of the rooms occupied by the prisoner and deceased—I heard the prisoner say to the person, "You shan't go out of this house to-night"—he repeated that twice—I next heard a scuffle at the foot of the stairs—I then heard the front door open and slam to—I got up and went downstairs—as I went down I passed the prisoner at the door of Mrs. Stewart, one of the lodgers (before that I heard moaning in the street which caused me to open my window to know what it was); he was knocking at her door and saying, "Stewart, Stewart, come down, I have done for her"—I left him there and went straight down into the street to the Friend-in-Hand at the corner—I there saw the deceased lying on the ground bleeding, I could not say where from—I had been living in the house for a month or two before 4th February—I have heard the deceased and prisoner quarrelling together frequently; I once heard it was because she promised to meet another man, and the prisoner would not allow it—I have heard him say she had promised to meet him, and I have heard him say she should not go out to meet him—the man was at the door at the time with her—about four weeks before the 4th February there was a quarrel, and he took up the tongs and threatened to strike her—that was in their front parlour—I went down into the room to protect her, because the children were crying—he picked up the tongs when I was in the room—he said he meant banging her on the head, and I stepped between them and he hit me instead, he hit me on the head with his fist, not with the tongs; after that I went back to my room; the deceased came up with me—I noticed that her earings were torn out of her ear, and her ear was bleeding—on another occasion, soon after Christmas, he was going to kill her; he came indoors in a rage because she did not come home with him, and he went into the back parlour and got a knife out of the table drawer, went into the yard and sharpened it on a stone, and put it into his trousers pocket—the deceased was not in the house at that time, she was down at her mother's—it was the day her mother had died, and she had been there all day—when he put the knife in his pocket I tried to prevent his going out, I asked him not to go out with it, not to go out of the house at all, she would be sure to be in soon—he said if I did not get out of the way he would draw it across my throat—at the time he was getting it out of the drawer he said, "I mean to cut her throat;" he then went out of the house, he went towards Walton Place—the deceased was at her mother's house in Smith Street—I sent the woman's son Bobby out, about fifteen years of age, to keep him out of the way, to let it be known what he had said he was going to do; he brought the prisoner back soon after—I think that was the last I heard, until the very night the deed was done.
Cross-examined. I am at present employed at Peter Robinson's—of late both the prisoner and deceased were drunk—I swear that the words I heard the prisoner say were, 'Stewart, Stewart, comedown; I have done for her—I heard him say, "It is Noble; will you come down?—but I did not stop to hear the remainder, I was going downstairs, nearly on the last flight—I never heard the prisoner complain that I was interfering with his domestic quarrels—he has not frequently told me to mind my own business—he never requested me to leave the room—I am not aware whether he liked my presence or not—I used to go down to protect the children—he did say, "If you do not go out of the way I
will draw this knife across your throat"—there were three children; I think the eldest of the three was twelve—sometimes they lived happily together, and sometimes just the reverse—I mentioned at the Police-court that the prisoner said he intended to cut his wife's throat; he said it to me—I said that he was quarrelling with himself—I heard him say he meant to cut his throat—he did not say what for—he was muttering in the front parlour when he came in—it was at the time when he took the knife—I heard a smash, and followed him into the kitchen, and that was when he got the knife—the children were in the house at the time, upstairs in bed, next to my room—I saw the earrings fall from the woman's ear, and they were given into my charge to take care of till she wanted them—I saw the prisoner tear them from her ear—when she came up to my room I saw her ear was torn down—I saw the earring pulled out of her ear, but I was not aware it was torn down to the bottom, because I ran away to get away from him, to get no more than I got, and she came straight up to my room with me—at first I thought it was only cut by the wire—it was done before I got in—I saw it bleeding in the parlour, but it was not till she came up to my room that I saw the flesh was torn—I could not say at what time she came in that day—it was a dinner knife that he took out of the drawer—he sharpened it on a stone in the yard, and then put it in his pocket.
Re-examined. I had been in their room several times when they were together—she and I were on very friendly terms—I went in some times to protect the children when there was a quarrel in the daytime, and there used to be a scuffle and a fight when the children came in from school, and they would be screaming—when the prisoner tore the earring from the deceased's ear I was not down in time to see that; it had been taken out of her ear when I got down—just as I got into the room he got to the fireplace to pick up the tongs.
PHILIP MILLS . I am a plumber, and live at 22, Marlborough Road, Chelsea—on 4th February, about eleven at night, I was passing through North Street, and saw a woman run out of 100; she caught hold of my arm—I saw that her throat was cut—she was gasping for breath; she could not speak—the prisoner followed her out of the house and came up to us and said, "Now you can bleed;" with that she let go of my arm and ran into the Friend-in-Hand public-house—the prisoner followed her to the door—I looked in at the door; I was on the other side of the prisoner—he got there first—when I looked in the woman was lying on the floor—I did not see the prisoner go into the public-house—he was standing at the door; he had it open—he returned to the house he came out of.
Cross-examined. He was close beside me—I saw him leave the door. and go back again—I am quite sure he never went into the publichouse.
Re-examined. Not further than the doorway; he was holding the door open—I did not see him do anything to anybody there.
ROBERT CRIBBLE . I am barman at the Friend-in-Hand public-house, North Street, Chelsea—I was in the bar about eleven at night on 4th February—I saw the deceased come in shortly after eleven—she came rushing in with a wound in her throat—she ran up to the counter and laid hold of the counter and tried to speak but could not—while she was there the prisoner came to the door, and she turned round and tried to
make her escape out of the door—the prisoner closed both doors, lifted up his right hand and struck her on the side of the head; she fell down on the floor, and he rushed out, and the police and doctor came.
Cross-examined. I did not see another man at the door; I was standing behind the bar—there was nobody in the compartment between the bar and the door—I knew the prisoner by coming there; that was all—he opened the door, came in, struck the deceased, and then went out and closed it—I did not see anyone else standing there—I don't know that I should have seen anyone if he had been there, for I went to give an alarm to the next compartment—I was very much horrified at seeing the woman come in bleeding; I called attention to it immediately—all this happened while I was doing so.
Re-examined. It only took a few seconds; the prisoner was at the door when the woman turned to rush out—it was at the door that he knocked her down.
JOHN CUTLER . I am a painter in North Street, Chelsea—on the night of 4th February I was in the Friend-in-Hand, in the middle bar—about a quarter-past eleven I saw the deceased come in to where I was standing, in the compartment that opens into North Street—I saw her through the side of the partition—I saw that her throat was cut and bleeding then I saw the prisoner come into the compartment after her, and strike her with his right fist somewhere about the head—he said, "You have got it at last"—she partly fell, and was partly knocked down, and the prisoner turned and went out, passing Mr. Denny, a shoemaker, who was standing at the door—I went out and fetched the doctor.
Cross-examined. There are two compartments—one part of the glass partition is figured and the other part plain—I looked over the side where there was no partition; I was on a stone at the bottom which made me about a foot higher—I saw Cribble, the barman, he served me when I went into the middle compartment—it was about ten minutes after he served me that the woman came in—he was standing behind the bar, and had command of all the compartments—I did not see Mills there that night—I won't swear that the woman was knocked down or fell; she was not down before the blow was struck; I only know that he struck her and she fell.
Re-examined. She turned as if she was going out, and it was then he struck her; she fell directly after the blow—Denny had been drinking with me in the middle bar—to the best of my belief there was no one else in the compartment the woman came in—at the time she came in Denny had gone outside and turned round—she was not standing at the bar when I first saw her; I saw her come into the house—she had got up to the bar at the time the prisoner came in, and put her hands on the counter, and turned round and faced the prisoner, and he went up to her and struck her.
HORACE ALCOCK (B 468). On the night of 4th February, hearing a shout of "Police!" I went to the Friend-in-Hand and saw the deceased lying on the floor bleeding from a wound in her throat—I did what I could to stop the bleeding—in about seven minutes Dr. Leggatt came in—the woman died a few minutes afterwards—she did not speak at all.
CHARLES ASHLEY SCOTT LEGGATT , M. D., of Walton Place, Chelsea. About eleven on the night of 4th February I was called to the publichouse—I found the deceased lying on the floor in the bar, bleeding from;
a wound in the throat—she died within a minute or two after I got there—the constable had done all that could be done to stop the bleeding—I made a post-mortem examination—the wound was five inches long, and down to the vertebrae of the spinal column; it extended from an inch and a-half below the ear on the right side to two inches and three-quarters from the medium line on the left side—there was no evidence of the instrument having actually touched the vertebra—it went down to the vertebra—the direction was from right to left, and from above downwards, and larger on the right side than the left—on the right side the structures down to the spinal column were divided, the carotid artery not being entirely severed, but the principal hemorrhage came from the carotid artery—the hemorrhage from the wound was. the cause of death—this razor would produce the wound—when I first saw it there were marks on it, apparently of blood—very great force must have been used to produce the results I found.
Cross-examined. From the result of my post-mortem examination I did not come to the conclusion that she was a woman of intemperate habits to any extent—the liver was somewhat enlarged—it is difficult to say what was the cause of that—I did not know her in life—it was not an alcoholic liver; it was not diseased, only enlarged—it was natural except from being enlarged, but pale from hemorrhage—a pint of beer a day for several years would produce such a liver—if she had been intemperate she would have been more subject to inflammation; that is a secondary result, not a primary one—I do not think her life could have been saved if I had seen her earlier—the wound was in a downward direction—that was not indicative of a struggle—I do not mean to suggest that the wound was inflicted without any struggle—in my opinion it was homicidal, not suicidal—I have known very deep wounds inflicted on themselves by suicides—I have not examined the prisoner.
Re-examined. The direction of the wound being downwards is important, and, what is more important still, it was on the right side of the throat, that, to my mind, indicates that it was homicidal, not suicidal, unless the woman was left-handed.
GEORGE OSBORN (B 399). About ten minutes to eleven on the night of 4th February I went with another constable to 100, North Street; the door was open—I went in and met the prisoner in the passage—I told him I should take him into custody—he said, "All right; I will go with you"—outside the door I said, "I shall charge you with cutting your wife's throat"—he said, "1s. she dead?"—I said, "I think she is"—he then said, "Poor dear, this is all through jealousy; it has been going on for some time"—at the station he was charged with having feloniously caused her death—he said, "Well, I suppose I must put up with it"—I took possession of his hat and coat—the coat was afterwards shown to Dr. Leggatt—the prisoner appeared to be perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. I had no difficulty in finding him—he went quietly; he made no attempt to escape.
DR. LEGGATT (Re-examined). I examined the coat which the witness showed me—I found marks on it, apparently of recent blood, on the sleeve and by the breast pocket.
WILLIAM CURTIS (Inspector B). I was at the Police-station I Walton Street when the prisoner was brought in about eleven on the 4th—the constable said, "This man has murdered his wife at the Friend-in-Hand
public-house in Walton Place"—the prisoner said nothing at that time—I left him in charge of an officer, and went to the Friend-in-Hand—I there saw the deceased—I then went to 100, North Street, and into the back parlour on the ground floor; it was in a disordered state—two chairs were upset, there were splashes of blood on the floor, the walls, and the door—under the table I found this billycock hat—there were splashes of blood on that—I also found on the floor the top portion of a razor case, then went back to the station, and said to the prisoner, "Was this woman your wife?"—I told him she was dead, and cautioned him, and charged him with causing her death—he said, "I am very sorry; I must put up with it"—next morning about four I made a further search of the back parlour—on the hob behind a tea-kettle I found this razor; there appeared to be marks of blood on it—and on the mantelpiece I found this bottom part of the razor case—I went back to the station and examined the prisoner's clothing, and on his coat I found traces of what I believed to be blood, and marks of blood on his right hand—he was sober.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of provocation.— DEA TH .
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 9th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
341. DAVID KING (34) , to taking Florence Archbold, a girl under the age of eighteen, out of her father's possession, with intent to carnally know her.— Twelve Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
343. JOHN JOHNSON (36) , to forging and uttering an order for £2 also another order for £2, also an order for the payment of money, also another order for £2.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
The deposition of William Hill Foreman was here read as follows: "I am a salesman in the gentlemen's department of Messrs. Marshall and Snelgrove, silk mercers, of Oxford Street. About 3.30 p.m. on 14th December
the prisoner came to me and asked to see some underclothing. I showed him some. He selected three rests, three pants, and six pairs of socks, to the value of £5 8s. 9d. He then asked if I would take a cheque for the amount. I said I would inquire to see if he was known. He then asked for a piece of paper, which I gave him; he wrote on it in my presence, 'Marcus E. Holmes, son of late Rev. C. W. Holmes, Harrow' The paper is produced and marked E. I took it to the counting-house and had some conversation with Mr. Wills, and received certain instructions; I then returned to the prisoner and said we would accept a cheque, provided it was for the amount of the goods purchased. He then wrote out in my presence the cheque produced, marked F, for £5 8s. 9d., which I took and gave to the cashier. I made out the bill in duplicate; both are now produced, marked G and G. 1. I asked to what address the goods should be sent. He said his brother was in a cab outside waiting for him and he would take them—I went with him to the door and handed him the goods. I did not see a cab outside; I did not see what became of the prisoner. When I took the cheque I believed it to be a valid one, or I would not have parted with the goods.
Cross-examined. I have no general authority to part with goods without receiving cash for them. I took the cheque in this case because Mr. Wills said I might do so."
WILLIAM WILLS . I am ledger-keeper to Marshall and Snelgrove—the afternoon of 14th December Mr. Foreman came to me and I gave him certain instructions—he read this paper to me—the late Mr. Holmes was a customer of the firm—this cheque (produced) was handed to me, and paid into the Union Bank of London next morning, the 15th, and, on the 19th I received it back, marked "Refer to drawer"—after it was paid to me I received this letter; it would be opened by one of the principals—it was answered to 11, Kensington Square, the address on it—we received no reply from the prisoner, but we did from another person.
Cross-examined. The cheque was taken on my instructions, because the prisoner said he was the son of the well-known Mr. Holmes—I did not see the cheque till I had seen the prisoner—when I gave my evidence before the Magistrate I had no means of knowing whether he was the son of Mr. Holmes—I know it now—I know Mr. Weatherall is his brother-in-law—I have not heard that the money for this cheque has been tendered.
TOM WALCOTT CRABB . I am assistant to Messrs. Howell and James, Limited, of Regent Street—on 15th December, about 12.30, the prisoner came into my department and selected this gold bracelet and ring and these two pins; they came to £15 4s.—I asked if he wished to take the goods with him—he said, "Yes," and wrote his name on this paper (produced)—I took it to the ledger-keeper, and made out these two invoices in duplicate—the prisoner gave me this cheque and took the goods away; he did not take the receipt, he said that the cheque was sufficient—I handed the cheque into the cashier's desk—this letter was shown to me next day.
Cross-examined. I cashed the cheque on the authority of Mr. Willcox, on showing him the paper—he saw the prisoner, but had no conversation with him. (Letter read: "I shall be much obliged if you will keep my cheque till after my return from Wales at Christmas. ")
EDMUND WILLCOX . I am ledger-keeper at Messrs. Howell and James's—on 15th December Crabb made a communication to me, and I gave him instructions—I saw the prisoner, but not to speak to—I received this cheque for £15 4s.; it was endorsed and paid into the bank, and returned unpaid—I went to 11, Kensington Square, and found that Mr. Weatherall lived there; he is, I believe, the prisoner's brother-in-law.
Cross-examined. It was the statement on the paper that induced me to authorise Crabb to part with the goods—Mr. Cecil Holmes was well known to the firm, and I believed the prisoner to be his son—when I saw the paper I had not seen the cheque.
Re-examined. Mr. Holmes, of Harrow, was a very. good customer of ours.
HENRY SPONG . I am assistant to George Attenborough, a pawnbroker, of 72, Strand—I produce two pins, one pawned with me by the prisoner on 16th December, 1891, for 12s., in the name of Mr. Charles, of Harrow, and the other for 5s. on December 23rd, I do not know who by.
ANNIE KAINS . I am assistant to Sangster and Co., umbrella dealers, of 140, Regent Street—on December 3rd the prisoner came and selected an umbrella at £1 1s.—he said he was the son of Mr. Holmes, of Harrow—I wrote his name in a book—he did not pay; he said he would send a cheque—he took the umbrella away—he called the next morning, and purchased a lady's umbrella for £1 3s., and drew this cheque for £2 4s. (produced)—it was paid into the bank, and returned marked, "Refer to drawer"—he took away the second umbrella—I parted with the two umbrellas, believing he was the son of an old customer of ours.
Cross-examined. I do not know that money was forwarded to pay for this cheque.
MARTIN BLOWER . I am assistant to Mr. Taylor, a tailor, of 60, New Bond Street—on 3rd December a man came and ordered a coat; he had no beard then—I had a coat made—he gave me this cheque for £4 10s.—on Monday, the 7th, I received a telegram, and in consequence held over the cheque for a few days, and then paid it into the bank—it was returned marked, "Refer to drawer."
FREDERICK WILLIAM MOICOTT . I am a bootmaker, of 29, Burlington Arcade—on December 8th, to the best of my belief, the prisoner called and selected some boots, and wrote this cheque for £4 7s. 6d.—he put one pair on, and I sent the rest to Captain Marcus Holmes, at the Charing Cross Hotel—I have never had them back—the cheque was paid in, and returned dishonoured.
Cross-examined. His father was not a customer of ours, but Mrs. Spattenham was, who I have heard is a relative of his.
ROBERT OWEN DAVIS . I am a clerk in the National Bank of Wales, Limited, Conway branch—on August 20th last year the prisoner opened an account—I produce his pass book—his total payments up to 7th October were £102 3s. 10d.—the account was overdrawn on 16th October £40, and continued so—he has only had one cheque book; this is it—he was living at Ballycafn, six miles from Conway—the bank wrote to him about 20th October, and on December 9th—this book is a register of cheques returned—copies were kept of the letters; they have not been returned through the Dead Letter Office.
Cross-examined. I am only a clerk, but I sometimes open accounts—
Mr. Leeds introduced the prisoner to the manager; he is the manager of the hotel at this village—the prisoner had two or three interviews with the manager—Holmes continued at the hotel after the introduction—I do not know that when Mr. Holmes went to London Mrs. Leeds came and saw the manager and arranged for the takings of the hotel to be paid into the bank—I did not go to the hotel; I think the manager sent a clerk there some time in November—I remember that a day was fixed for a pigeon-shooting match at the hotel, but we did not hear anything more about it—I did not know Mr. Griffiths, or whether he is the owner of the hotel; I know him now—I did not write the two letters, or address them—cheques were drawn up to three weeks ago—the overdraft has been paid—David Jones is the manager, and Mr. Griffiths is a friend of his.
Re-examined. The interview with the manager as to the further overdraft was about the end of October—we have not honoured any of the prisoner's cheques since November 3rd—I have not brought the register of returned cheques, but I have compared this paper in Mr. Jones's writing with the register—eight cheques, amounting to £62 19s. 3d., have been presented and returned dishonoured since November 3rd—the overdraft was paid about three weeks ago, the day before I was before the Grand Jury here last session—two cheques were returned on the day of the interview with the manager on 3rd October.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the National Bank, Conway; I keep the letterpress copybook—on December 9th I struck off a letter which the manager gave me to copy, and which was in his writing—this is the copy; I do not remember who addressed the envelope, but I saw it in an envelope and put into the post-bag by Davis—it is part of my duty to take the post-bag daily to the post-office at Conway, and I did so on December 9th, and left the bag with the postmaster—the letter was addressed to Marcus E. Holmes, c. o. G. F. Holmes, Dartmouth Chambers, Theobald's Road, London.
ELLEN SNELL . I am the wife of George Snell, of 21, Bedford Place, Russell Square—on or about 10th November, 1891, the prisoner hired one room, and slept there till he was arrested—I then pointed his room out to the police, who searched it, and I saw them find several things.
BENJAMIN ALLEN (Detective Sergeant C). About December 3rd I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest, and on January 8th I was with Detective Showers and saw him in Swallow Street, Piccadilly—I arrested him and read the warrant to him; he made no reply—while he was being charged he was asked his address and refused it—he said he had been living in London, and a man in the station said he was living in Bedford. Row, and Mrs. Snell pointed out the place to me—I found on him at the station four pawntickets, one of which relates to a pin obtained from Howell and James, and a bill from Marshall and Snelgrove, dated December 14th, a cigar case, and some memoranda—I searched his room at 21, Bedford Place, and found a quantity of hosiery, which is identified by Marshall and Snelgrove, and Showers found two empty jewel cases—this cheque book was found at his lodging; this bracelet and two rings were given me at the Police-court.
Cross-examined. He told me where they were, and I got them.
empty jewel cases, the goods from Marshall and Snelgrove's, and in a drawer with some letters these four envelopes. (Three of these letters were addressed M. C. Holmes, Esq., Dartmouth Chambers, Theobald's Road, London)—the prisoner told me where this ring was, and I went there and got it.
ANNIE PERKINS . I am housekeeper at Dartmouth Chambers, Theobald's Road—Mr. F. Gerald Holmes has lived there for some months, and I have seen the prisoner, who is his brother, there—letters by post came there for the prisoner, and he called for them—about the end of last year was the last time I handed him any letters—they were put on the table in his brother's room, and I allowed him to go and take them, even if his brother was out—as far as I know all letters addressed to him were given to him or taken by him.
FRANCIS ARTHUR BROWN . I am clerk to Messrs. Humphreys and Son, the solicitors for the prosecution—on February 20th I served the prisoner in Holloway Gaol with a notice to produce certain document, including two letters, one of which was dated 9th December.
MR. GRAIN proposing to read a copy of the letter, the RECORDER recalled
R.O. DAVIS. The prisoner gave no address where he was to be written to after leaving the neighbourhood. (Upon this the RECORDER. refused to admit the copy.)
GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour from January 9th.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, March 9th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
SOLOMON GEORGE SMITH . I am assistant to Solomon Henry Smith, of The Broadway, Westminster—I live at 2, Chapel Street, Westminster—about one a.m. on 7th February I went to bed after locking everything up—I woke about three and came down, and found a police officer and an inspector—the place was ransacked—drawers and cupboards had been turned out—I missed an American clock, a spanner, tea, coffee, and other goods—the spanner was shown me by the policeman.
JOHN ROWTONS (405 A). I was on duty in Broadway, Westminster, on the morning of 7th February, and I saw the prisoner in the doorway of 2, Chapel street, just about to enter—when he heard my footsteps he pulled a key out of the keyhole of the door and put it into his pocket; it made a jingling noise, as if it fell on more keys—I went across, and asked him if he lived there; he said no, he lived in Great Pier Street; I asked him what he was doing—he said, "Going to make water"—I said, "You don't want latchkeys for that; you have more keys on you—he said, "No; I have only got a book"—he pulled a book out—I said, "Let me feel"—he put his hand in, and brought out two latchkeys—I said, "I shall have to take you to the police-station"—I searched him there, and found these three other keys in his coat-pocket, and this bicycle-spanner, owned by the prosecutor—the inspector went back with me to the house, and one of the first two latchkeys which the
prisoner gave me opened the door—the gas was burning in the kitchen—the people were knocked up and came downstairs—this lamp was found in the house—it does not belong to the prosecutor.
CHARLSS DYER (Inspector A). I was at the station on the morning of 7th February, when Rowtons brought the prisoner there—I went with Rowtons to 2, Great Chapel Street—one of five keys given to me opened the door—the gas in the passage was alight; things on the table were in confusion—I rang the bell, and spoke to the prosecutor—afterwards I charged the prisoner at the station; he said, "Excuse me, governor, I did not enter the house; I picked the spanner up at St. James" (meaning a public-house)—that would be dosed at twelve o'clock, as it was Saturday night.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in June, 1887.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MORESBY Prosecuted.
HENRY IMHOFF (211 H). On the morning of 12th February I was in plain clothes in Dorset Street, Spitalfields, and I saw the prisoner and another man approaching me; the prisoner was carrying a parcel—I went towards them and got hold of them, and asked what they had got in the parcel—the prisoner said, "You need not hold me; look in the parcel and see for yourself; they are only my clothes"—they were obstreperous, and the other man got away—I got the prisoner to the station after a lot of trouble, and found the parcel contained these things (produced)—it was about 200 or 300 yards from the synagogue that I saw them.
FREDERICK EASHFIELD . I live at 12, New Court, Fashion Street—at eight o'clock on the evening of 11th February, I locked up the synagogue—next morning there were signs of the synagogue having been broken into, and I missed certain property; ornaments had been taken away and laid on the ground—I can swear to these things; I missed them.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that a man offered him sixpence to carry the bundle of things for him.
GUILTY .†— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
349. THOMAS O'NELL (18), HENRY ANDREWS (19), and EDWARD ELLERTON (18) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Charlotte Pullen, and stealing three dolmans and other articles, her property.
O'NEIL also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in November, 1889; ANDREWS to a conviction of felony in January, 1890; and ELLERTON to a conviction of felony in May, 1889. O'NEIL— Three Months' Hard Labour.
ANDREWS and ELLERTON— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
350. CHARLES SHARPE (19) to stealing two overcoats, the property of Henry Wade; also to stealing two pairs of boots, the goods of George Hassell.— Eight Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
351. WILLIAM ALLEN (31) to stealing a coat, the property of Simon Solomons.— Eight Months' Hard Labour. There was another indictment against the prisoner for forging and uttering an order for the payment of £2 10s. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 10th, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
MR. ST. AUBYN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
— NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
There was an indictment for an assault upon the same person, occasioning him actual bodily harm, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . He received a good character from the Police Inspector of the district.— Discharged on his recognisance in £25, to come up for judgment if called upon.
MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted. EMILY MARSHALL, JUN. I am thirteen years old; the prisoner is my mother—there are seven children altogether; the eldest is fifteen, and the youngest, Herbert, is seven months—I remember the week of 13th January—I noticed that my mother was strange during that week; her eyes seemed funny—she had not been drinking that week; she had the week before—on 13th I saw her and Herbert in the second-floor room about three o'clock—she had been saying something; I could not understand it—there was a funeral going by and she pulled the blinds down—after that she was going to take the baby out with no shoes or socks on, and no hat on her head—I ran to the door and stopped her; we then went downstairs into father's workshop; she left the baby upstairs—I heard a rattling of father's tools—mother went upstairs and told me to go up with her, and I saw baby asleep on the bed; he had got bronchitis, and mother also—she put her hand in her pocket and went downstairs again—I then heard the baby cry, and I went upstairs again and saw
both mother and baby covered in blood—I ran into the street, and the policeman came—I know father's razor, it was kept in his workshop—he is a paperhanger—this is the razor (produced)—some of the children had been ill that week, and mother was worried about it—father was out of work just before this.
JAMES FORD (16 J). On 13th January I went to 19, Glyn Road, and there saw a baby, seven months old, lying in the lap of a Mrs. Davis—it had two wounds on the right side of its neck—I fetched a doctor, and it was taken to Hackney Infirmary.
JOHN HEMINGWAY , M.R.C.S. I practise at Salisbury House, Clapton Square—on 13th. January, about five in the afternoon, I was called to see this baby—I first saw the prisoner, who was in the front room sitting in a chair, with a constable on each side of her—she had a large deep wound on the left side of her neck; she had lost a great quantity of blood—after I had dressed her wound I saw the baby—I found two wounds on the right side of its neck; one deep and one shallow—in my opinion, the lower wound was very serious—they were such wounds as might have been caused by this razor—I dressed the wounds, and I sent the child to the infirmary.
JOHN JOSEPH GORDON . I am Medical Superintendent of Hackney Infirmary—the baby, Herbert Marshall, was brought to me on the 13th January, and the mother shortly afterwards—the child is quite well now; you would scarcely notice anything—the prisoner was under my care until she was nearly well—her wound was quite possible to have been self-inflicted—I formed a very strong opinion that she was not responsible for her actions on that day—I do not believe that she knew she was cutting her child's throat, or knew it was wrong; because she did not know her own child three days afterwards; she did not know whether it was dead or alive; in order to persuade her that it was alive, I had it brought into the ward to her, and she did not know it—she was suffering from bronchitis, and in a semi-unconscious state when admitted, and remained so for two or three days.
DENIS PAYNE (64 J). On 13th January, about a quarter-past four, I was called to the prisoner's house, 19, Glyn Road—I saw her in the first floor front room—she said, "Let me die," and caught hold of my hand—some time after she asked me what I was going to do with her—I made no reply.
Prisoner. I do not remember anything about it.
GUILTY of the act, but not being responsible for her actions ,— Ordered to be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
There was another indictment for attempting to murder herself upon which no evidence was offered.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted. DENNIS JOSEPH LOCKTON. I am a medical man, of 364, Harrow Road
—on Christmas Day last the prisoner brought a child, about fourteen or fifteen months old, to my surgery—I examined it—it was very much emaciated, very dirty, had very little clothes on, and a large number of sores on its body, which were due to want of cleanliness—ordinary soap and water and a change of linen would have prevented them—it had not sufficient clothes on—it was fed artificially—I gave the prisoner directions as to its diet, cleanliness, and clothing—I discovered no organic disease—I told her if she made the child clean it would not have those sores, that she should bath it—she called the following day; the child was in the same condition—the prisoner appeared half drunk and muddled on both occasions—she was the worse for drink the second day—she always appeared to me to be semi-intoxicated, not in a condition to look after the child—she smelt of liquor, would not tell me what she had done, and seemed puzzled—she spoke incoherently—I believe she had two rooms—I saw three or four other children, the eldest six or seven—they were not old enough to look after the deceased—I saw it a few days afterwards—I gave directions at each attendance as to its treatment—those directions were not complied with—I told the husband, in her presence, if the child died I did not think I would be justified in giving a certificate, as I believed its condition was due to neglect and insufficient feeding—I had spoken to her to the same effect—I told her the child's condition was due to neglect and starvation, and that she was not taking proper care of it—I advised the parish doctor should be called in—my last attendance was about the middle of January—she once came to my surgery without the child.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You may have told me you had the child all night in your arms—you told me you had taken it to the hospital, and showed me the medicine, and I said, "Don't give it any more; I will give you some medicine"—my instructions were to rub the child—you said the doctors at the hospital said it suffered from eczema.
GEORGE LARTER . I am employed by the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children—on 20th January I went to the prisoner's house, 33, Clarendon Street—she occupied the front and back rooms on the first floor—I saw the prisoner, her husband, and six children—this child was lying on the bed, very dirty, and very ill—the husband is a gas-fitter—all the children were very dirty—the husband told me he was in constant employment—when I went there the prisoner had been drinking; I could not say she was drunk—the following Saturday, 23rd, I went again—with the parent's consent the child was moved to the infirmary of the Home—it weighed 10 lb. 12 oz.—it was fifteen months old—a child that age should weigh 21 lb.
JOHN REECE GALE . I am a medical man, of 16, Mecklenburgh Square—on 23rd January I saw a child fifteen months old at the Shelter in Harper Street—it was very emaciated—there was no fat about the body; it had sores about its private parts—I could find no organic disease to account for its emaciation—it had not been changed frequently, and the sores were due to neglect—I saw no traces of eczema—the child was attended, but it gradually sank and died on 29th January—the normal weight of a child fifteen months old is between 21 lb. and 22 lb.; this child weighed 10 lb.—I made a post-mortem examination—the organs were perfectly healthy, except the light lung; in that lung was recent inflammation; improper feeding and insufficient food would account for
that—the inflammation would not account for the emaciation; it was too recent—there was no diarrhoea or anything else to account for it.
JANE JUDD . I am a nurse, of 34, Gloucester Gardens—the prisoner is my sister-in-law—her son was born in October, 1890—it was named Christopher—it appeared to me a very strong healthy child—I went to the prisoner's house in January this year, and saw the child—it then was extremely thin, and appeared very ill—I accused her of neglecting it, and told her it was starved—she said, "Don't you say that," and she went out of the room.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see you between July and January—I had no disagreement with your husband—I did not see the inspector to revenge you—I have seen you intoxicated, and the baby extremely dirty, and your place too, and you know the child was ill.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "In November I took my child to the Children's Hospital I did so up to Christmas Day, then he was worse, and I fetched Dr. Lockton to him, and he told me the child would not live. He attended him four or five times. I did according to his instructions. I gave the child milk and brandy, and rubbed its stomach with cod-liver oil. He gave me no directions about the eruption. I could get him to take nothing but milk and brandy and my breast. I tried several things, but the child retched, and would not take it. I had him in my hands and arms night and day from Christmas Day. I had a glass of beer, but not sufficient to cause me to neglect my baby; I am too fond of him. I was not intoxicated on Christmas Day; the day the Inspector came I had not been drinking; I could not open the window as the baby was ill; that is why the room smelt My drinking habits have been greatly exaggerated by every witness." In her defence she repeated the same in substance.
GUILTY .— One Month's Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. J. B. MORRIS Prosecuted.
EMILY O'CONNELL . I am the widow of John O'Connell, a pavior, and live at 10, Nelson Place, Leamington Street, City Road—on Monday afternoon, 8th February, I went with three females into the Northampton Arms, and called for two pint glasses of beer; my husband followed. in a few seconds—I came out with the females—I saw Nolan strike my husband as I turned back—I had not previously seen any quarrelling—I saw my husband take off his hat and give it to Mr. Coppard, a friend, to hold—then Nolan struck him under the left ear with his fist—he fell to the ground, and Nolan was going to strike him again, and I asked him not to strike him—my husband did not get up again—a constable came up, and I asked him to charge the prisoner on my behalf; I said it was my husband; the constable told me to go away and not make a lot of fuss—my husband was twenty-nine last New Year's Day—the prisoner also hit my husband in the temple.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see my husband strike you
—he fell on his knees—you were going to hit him on the ground, and you had a good mind to hit me—I went to get my brother.
CUTHBERT BRACEY DALE (Surgeon). I examined the deceased on 8th February—I was present at the post-mortem examination the following day—the cause of death was hemorrhage caused by a rupture of a vessel at the base of the brain—externally I found a small bruise behind the left ear—I found no disease in any organ—it is possible death may have been caused by the blow, but I am doubtful—the condition I found is much more common from disease than injury—it might have been disease.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The bruise behind the left ear was slight—I have seen large bruises from much more serious blows—a rupture of a vessel at the base of the brain may arise without violence.
ALBERT DEIGHTON . I am barman at the Northampton Arms, Goswell Road, Clerkenwell—on Monday afternoon, 8th February, the prisoner was in that house with some friends—he followed four females in the same bar—I served the females with a pot of four half; the prisoner asked Coppard to treat him; the deceased asked the prisoner what he was imposing on his friend for; the prisoner asked what that had to do with him; the deceased said he would knock his * * * face in; the prisoner said he did not want to fight, or anything to do with him, and went out to the corner of Spencer Street; deceased followed—I saw the prisoner through the window—he returned inside, the deceased followed, showed fight and struck him two or three times, and they fought—I got over the bar and between the two, and told them they must go outside, and they went quietly—outside the prisoner struck the deceased two or three times in the face—the deceased dropped—he did not do anything outside, he seemed a bit dazed—a policeman came and took him in a cab to the hospital.
Cross-examined. You tried all you could to avoid a row—you appeared timid and wanted to get out of his way—he threatened you; I did not hear him threaten to screw your neck; you would naturally hit him for your own protection; there was no time for consideration it was all the same fight from the time the deceased struck you till it ended.
Re-examined. I did not see the deceased strike the prisoner outside.
JOHN PORTER (259 G). I was on duty on Monday, 8th February, at the corner of Spencer Street and Goswell Road—I saw the prisoner and several others leave the side door of the Northampton Arms; one man fell—I saw no blow struck then—I saw the prisoner in a fighting attitude—I went up and said, "No fighting allowed here, please," and got the prisoner and his friend away—the prisoner was sparring up to someone else after the man had fallen, but I was some distance off them—the deceased was lifted by his friends into a kneeling position—I found him insensible; I thought he was in a fit, and unbuttoned his clothes—I then called a cab and conveyed him to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where he was seen by the surgeon, who pronounced life extinct.
RICHARD DAVELL (Inspector G). The prisoner was brought into the station on the night of 11th February—I was present when the charge was entered of causing the death of John O'Connell whilst engaged in a fight—after the charge had been entered and I had read it over to him, and cautioned him, he made this statement, which I took down
in writing, and he signed it: "I went into the public-house, and was. having a glass of ale with a couple of friends. This man, Coppard, who I had not seen for a long time, asked me how I was getting on; I said, 'Middling, 'or something to that effect. This young man who unfortunately met with the accident"—that means the deceased—"said I was taking a liberty. I told him I had known him a considerable time, and it was no business of his; I knew the man as well as he did. I appealed to Coppard as to whether I had not known him. The man said he would like to screw my neck. I said I did not want a row with him. I went out, and on coming back into the public-house I met both of them, O'Connell and Coppard. The man who is dead would insist upon making me fight, and to avoid it I went into the public-house, and had a scrimmage inside, and we were put out. When outside he asked me to take my coat off, but I refused, as I thought he was too good for me, he being a younger and stronger man than I am. When I saw there was no getting out of it I did the best I could for self-protection. If there had been any means of avoiding the fight I should have done so. He hit me and I hit him, I cannot say who struck first, and he went on his knees. Some women came up and tried to claw my face. A policeman came up and turned me away, or I should get into trouble among the lot of them. I waited a considerable time before going away, five or six minutes, as I had nothing to fear. I saw a cab come up, and then I went away. This evening (12th) I went to Mr. Daniels to inquire if I was wanted or not and soon afterwards I was arrested. I would rather have been arrested at the time.
"The prisoner, in his defence, repeated in substance the above statement.
NOT GUILTY .
HENRY BARTLETT SHILLINGFORD . I am a surgeon, of 57, Rye Lane—I attended the prisoner in her confinement, on 19th November last, of a female child—I visited her for ten weeks—during that time the child was perfectly healthy—the fourth day after the child was born, when I arrived at the house, I found her sitting up dressed—she had five other children—the consequence of her getting up was that her milk had left her—she afterwards brought the child for my advice—it was in a weakly condition, and she said she did not think it was getting on—I cannot say it was clean—she said she had been feeding it on oatmeal—that was very improper food—I told her so, and to give it cow's milk and barley water sweetened with sugar—she brought the child again in about three weeks—it was more weakly—she said she had done as I told her—I did not think it was being properly fed—on 24th February I was called in, and found the child dead—I made a post-mortem examination the following Saturday—the weight of the body was 3 lb. 15 oz.—the normal weight of a child that age would be nearly 10 lb., the average weight of a child three months old is 9. 6lb.—I found no indication of any organic disease—in the stomach I found a very small quantity of milky fluid, about a teaspoonful, about a drachm—the intestines were contracted, and the walls very thin—that led me to the conclusion the child had not sufficient food—I am of opinion the child would have taken food if it had it—it had the power to take food—if it had not been able to assimilate
its food I should have found some trace of disease or an abnormal condition of the digestive organs—I refused to give a death certificate, because I felt that I could not—the cause of death was syncope, due to abseinthia, or want of strength, brought about by chronic starvation—I found marked emaciation.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I only saw you twice at the surgery—the child's bowels would be wrong if the mother administered such indigestible food as oatmeal.
The JURY here intimated they did not wish to hear more.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, March 10th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
To enter into recognisances to appear for judgment if called upon.
MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRENFIELD Prosecuted.
ELLEN GARDNER . I am the wife of William Gardner, of 33, Dorset Place, Pimlico—on February 7th, about 12.30 a.m., I was with my husband in Besborough Gardens, Pimlico, and saw the prisoner Ashby standing tinder the railings—I did not know her before—she flew at me and tore the boa from my neck, and tried to pull my hand-bag away, and gave me a blow on my face and a black eye—my husband came to my assistance, and four or five men surrounded him and robbed him.
Cross-examined by Adams. I was behind when my husband was robbed—I have not the least doubt you are one of the men who robbed him—there were no gas-lamps near.
Cross-examined by Ashby. You were not walking along by yourself; you were standing by the railings—my husband did not say to me, "How about you when you kept a brothel?" nor did I say, "And a b——good job, too," nor did you ask me what I meant—my husband did not hit you or kick you and tell you to leave go of me; it was done too quickly for that—there was another woman a little way off.
Re-examined. There is no truth in the statement that I was quarrelling with my husband and talking about a brothel—I have had eleven children, and nine are living—my boa was torn into four pieces.
some remark as we passed, which I took no notice of, and then she addressed my wife, and struck her in the face and tore her boa, and then struck me—I was bleeding all over my face, and five or six men came up and took 33s. from me—a cabman came up and blew a whistle, and some of the men tried to pull him off his box—the men ran away and told Ashby to do the same, but I seized her and gave her in charge—I identify Adams as one who had his hand in my trousers pocket; I am sure of him—my wife and I were not quarrelling or talking about a brothel.
Cross-examined by Ashby. I did not say to my wife, "Yes; you kept a brothel," nor did she say, "Yes; and a b——good job too"—you were not fighting with my wife for five minutes before anybody came up.
Cross-examined by Adams. My wife was a few yards away when I was robbed—she was not kicking up a row with Ashby—she was bleeding too much for that; her eyes were full of blood—I am sure you are the man who rifled my pockets—I caught you by your cuff, but could not detain you—I did not see you on Sunday night in a public-house, or I should have given you in charge—I did not say that you wore a cap—I can swear you are the man I caught by the cuff.
WILLIAM HOLMES . I am hackney-carriage driver, No. 671, and live at 34, Newman Street, Borough—early in the morning of 7th February I was driving along Vauxhall Bridge Road, and heard a cry—I whipped up my horse and went towards it, and saw the prosecutor lying on the ground against the railings, surrounded by a gang of men, who were rifling his pockets, and he was shouting "Police!"—Adams very much resembles a man who tried to pull me off my cab when I blew my whistle—I saw Mrs. Gardner being assaulted by Ashby and some other women—she was screaming—the prosecutor followed Ashby—a constable came, and she was given in charge.
Cross-examined by Adams. You very much resemble the man who tried to pull me off my cab—I took hold of the rail to make a kick at you, and you said, "What did you blow that whistle for?"
Cross-examined by Ashby. When I galloped up you were assaulting the prosecutrix.
By the COURT. The prosecutrix was close to the prosecutor while he was being robbed; but she was being assaulted by the other women.
THOMAS UNDERDONE (712 A). On 7th February I heard a whistle, and saw Ashby—Mr. Gardner said she had assaulted and robbed him, and gave her in custody—she said, "It is all right; I own I struck him, but I did not commit any robbery"—a shilling was found on her, and ninepence.
Cross-examined by Ashby. You went quietly, with me—you used bad language to the cabman.
Cross-examined by Adams. You did not say, "I expected this, because I was with Ashby the night before."
Re-examined. He said nothing to me about being elsewhere that night, but he did to the Magistrate.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Adams says: "I can prove I was at home at the time it happened; I was at home at 12.15 at
the latest. When the officer came I said I was afraid I should be dragged into this because I was with Ashby the night before. "Ashby says: "I did not see the men that were there, I was fighting with the woman in the road. I waited till the constable came and the prosecutor said he would charge me."
Evidence for the Defence.
JENNY JONES . I am a charwoman—Adams was at home on this Saturday night—I was having a glass of beer with his wife at 12.15—I was at the Police-court and heard him say, "I knew I should be taken through being with Ashby the night before."
Cross-examined. It was a Saturday night in February—this was at a private house, 66, Duke Street, Waterloo Road—Adams did not leave then, he came home about 12.15—I know the time because the public-houses had just shut, and I took a drop of beer home with his wife there was a clock there—he did not go out again after 12.15, he stayed with his wife—I had to go to Surrey Street—I fix the Saturday night because I went shopping with his wife, and took some beer home in a can—I do that every Saturday night—I was spoken to about this some days afterwards when he was taken—I went to the Police-court with his wife, but I was not called on to give evidence; I told the police, and they said, "You are not wanted here"—this is the first time I have given any sworn testimony—I did not hear of this outrage till twelve days after it occurred—I got home that night three or five minutes before the half hour struck—I was in Adams' room when he came in; I was there five or seven minutes after twelve with his wife.
By the COURT. The public-houses close at twelve on Saturday nights—I think I was at home on the Saturday night before this, and on the Saturday afterwards, at 12.30, I think I was with the prisoner's wife—I have known her ever since she was a little girl.
Adams' Defence. Do you think it is possible? He says three or four men held him while I rifled his pockets, and then he says he let go of me to go to his wife. I saw him on the Sunday night in a public-house, and he never gave me in charge. I was at home at the time.
ADAMS*.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
ASHBY.— Nine Month' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, March 10th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
—MORTLOCK PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. CLUER Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
CHARLES SAWYER . I am a livery-stable keeper at 4, Green Street, Upton Park—on 3rd February, at twenty minutes past three, Mortlock came with another man and asked for a horse and trap to go to Stoke Newington to collect some money—I asked his name and address—he said he came from Mr. Waters, of Manor Road—I knew Mr. Waters, a publican, well—I let him have the horse, harness, and well-gig, worth altogether £30—they never came back—I next saw the horse a fortnight afterwards at the Earl of Derby public-house, Westbourne Park, and the gig at the Green Man, Harlesden—I did not authorise Mortlock to deal with them in any way; he promised to bring them back in about three hours.
WALTER JOHN FRANCES . I keep the Oliver public-house, Westbourne Park—Pauncefort is my tenant, and rents stables at the back of my house—I have only been there twelve months, but I have heard that he has been there for five years, carrying on business as a cab proprietor—on Wednesday, 3rd February, he came and asked for a cheque for £12, saying he had bought a pony, trap, and harness—I gave him a cheque for £12, made payable at his request to J. R. Johnson—half an hour afterwards he came back and gave me £12 in gold for the cheque—after that another man came with the cheque, and said something to me which I repeated to the prisoner next morning; it was that he had been round the neighbourhood trying to change my cheque—I gave him the money for it, saying I did not like my cheque being hawked round the neighbourhood—I told that to Pauncefort the next morning—about an hour afterwards, about six in the evening, I saw the horse and trap outside my house, and in Pauncefort's presence I said it was a decent little lot, or something like that—he said it came from a widow at Stamford Hill who kept a dairy.
Cross-examined. He told me at the time that that was what the man from whom he had bought it had told him—I did not examine the horse and trap—I did not hear any conversation between the prisoner and the other man—I have known the prisoner a long time; he has always borne a most respectable character—he has been a tenant of my family for over five years—he is not only a cab proprietor, but a dealer in horses and traps, and is constantly buying and selling—the whole transaction was open.
Re-examined, He did not tell me anything about the man from whom he had bought the trap.
By the JURY. He was not to my knowledge in the habit of buying anything but horses and traps—I do not know what business he does.
THOMAS STEERS . I am a farrier, of 2, Forgate Mews, Harrow Road—on Friday, 5th February, Pauncefort came and asked me if I knew anybody who wanted to buy a pony and harness—I said a gentleman had asked me to look out for one, and that I had said I would let him know—Pauncefort said he would take £14 for it, and I was to have what I could make over that—I went and saw Mr. Saunders at the Earl of Derby, and told him he could see it on the Saturday—I told Pauncefort I had seen Saunders—on the Saturday the horse was brought to Forgate Mews outside my door, and opposite Mr. Saunders's—Pauncefort said, "There is the pony, you can sell it"—Pauncefort went away—I
sold the pony and harness to Saunders for £18—I gave Pauncefort £14, and had £4 myself; I did not tell him I got £18—I saw him at his residence, Oliver Mews, five minutes' walk from Forgate Mews, the same evening.
Cross-examined. There was not the least secrecy about this transaction it was bought right open—he wanted £2 profit, and I was to get all I could besides—the pony was chip-kneed and short-jointed.
CHARLES SAWYER (Re-examined). I paid eighteen guineas for the cart six months ago—I rode in it this morning eight miles—when I saw it a fortnight after I lost it the dashboard was broken—the value of the harness was about £3 new.
Cross-examined. The. owner has offered it to me now for £15, but I would not give that now; £14 would be a fair price—when the prisoner heard the pony had been stolen, he came at once and said he would give me the money that he had received, and Steers gave me back £4, and the prisoner £14 through Steers—I was very glad to get the money back—the pony was chip-kneed.
Re-examined Steers brought the money to me—I know nothing of Pauncefort in the matter.
By MR. HUTTON. I received the £18 back from Steers on the Friday afternoon—Pauncefort had then been brought up as a witness, and on the Saturday he was brought up with the others and charged—I got the money back when it was fully ascertained that it had been stolen—it was before I was called as a witness, but after the prisoner had been charged with Adams's matter.
CLEMENT CAKEBREAD . I am assistant to my father, the proprietor of the Green Man, Harlesden—Pauncefort, who has stables of his own, brought this horse and gig to our place, and left the gig and harness there in our possession, and took the horse away—next day he took away the harness—he told me he had bought it; he did not say from whom.
Cross-examined. I had no conversation with him about it—he asked me if he could put it in my stables—I have known him for a long while—the gig was not put there to hide it; it was open, so that my men and anyone else could see it; the whole transaction was open—it remained there a week and more—I showed it to one or two people myself—he said he bought it, but not how he bought it.
GEORGE WHEATLEY (Police-Sergeant X). On Mondav, 15th February, I went with Pauncefort to the Earl of Derby—this charge was taken at the police-court on 23rd February, Thursday—I saw Saunders in Pauncefort's presence—Pauncefort made a statement to me in reference to the whole transaction—he said this was the one he had purchased from a friend of Mortlock's, and that he had given it to the witness Steers to sell for him; that Steers had given him £15—Saunders said he had paid Steers £18 for it, and produced the receipt—Pauncefort said he bought it from a man he knew as Johnson, and he represented he was selling it for a widow in Stamford Hill—I asked him where Johnson lived; he did not know, and could give me no information—he said the gig was at the Green Man, Harlesden—I went and saw it there on. the morning
of the 17th—Pauncefort took me to his house, and I there found two sewing machines, which are the subject of other charges, No. 8367933, Mortlock has pleaded guilty to that, and 10623823, Mrs. Somerville's—I found in the mews another horse and trap belonging to Adams; the horse was working—Pauncefort gave me four pawn-tickets relating to sewing machines, which he said he had bought from Johnson—they were pledged for £1 4s., £1, £1 10s., and £2—I believe they average about £6 each in value; some are Singer's and some Bradbury's—Pauncefort gave £1 5s. for the seven pawn-tickets—he is a cab proprietor—I never knew him to be a dealer in general goods in this way; I cannot say if he is.
Cross-examined. Pauncefort made the following statement, which I took down in writing:—"On or about the end of January, 1892, I saw a young man outside the, Oliver public-house. He was with a man named Kennedy, a cabman. He offered me a pawn-ticket for sale, and left it with me to go and see it. It was for a sewing machine, pledged at a pawnbroker's at Chapel Street or Church Street, Edgware Road. I gave him 5s. for it. About three or four days after I saw him again, with Mortlock, on Sunday, 30th ult., at the Green Man public-house, Harlesden, at 7 p.m. He asked Mrs. Cakebread if I was there, and I came out. He said, 'My pal (meaning Mortlock) has the brokers in, and wants to sell this pony and trap, and said he wanted £9 for it. 'I looked at it, and saw the pony was in good condition, but overdriven, and thought she was a kicker, and offered him £6 for the lot, and he (meaning Mortlock) took it. The other man was with him at the time. Clement Cakebread saw me pay for it. They had drink afterwards, and left about 7.30 p.m. About Monday or Tuesday following I saw the younger man, whom I knew as Johnson, outside the Oliver, in Harrow Road. He had a bay cob, about 14 hands 2 inches, chip-kneed, off-hind fetlock white and scared fetlock joints, in poor condition; white metal harness, and small well trap, painted dark, picked out black, dashboard broken in front, off hind wheel damaged in stock. He asked me to purchase it, saying he wished to sell it for a widow at Stamford Hill, and she wished £15 for it. I looked at it, and thought it would be worth £12, and offered that for it. He took £12 15s. for it I gave a cheque for £12, and 15s. silver, I spoke to him about Mortlock. He said he put him in a cab at the Stafford public-house, and gave him eight shillings to take him home. I obtained the cheque from Mr. Francis, the landlord of the Oliver, Westbourne Terrace North. After having drunk we left. I saw him again about a day or two after at the Oliver, and he spoke to me and asked me if I had fetched the machines. I said yes. He came to my house and showed Mrs. Rouse, my landlady, how to work them. He gave me four more tickets for machines. I gave him £1 for the lot, and I have not seen him since. Mortlock came to-day with two men, and I identified him as the man I bought the pony from at Harlesden, and he was given into custody by me"—he signed that—he came back with Mortlock—I have heard that he went with a potman to look for Mortlock, and he brought him back—he gave me the information about the pawn-tickets, and gave them to me—I have heard that two horses got out of Pauncefort's stable, and one of them had been sold to him by Mortlock—Pauncefort gave a full description at the
Police-station of the two horses that had broken out; I believe one of them was one which has been mentioned by Mr. Cluer—he went about endeavouring to find the other man—Mortlock apparently knew all about the pawn-tickets.
Re-examined. If Pauncefort had not given me information about the tickets I should have searched for things in his house after he was in custody—he took the tickets from a vase on the mantelpiece in his room, and the machines were in his room.
JOHN ADAMS . I lent a pony and trap to Mortlock on 31st January on hire—I did not give him any authority to deal with it in any way—the value of pony and trap was £16—I afterwards saw them in Pauncefort's possession.
CLEMENT CAKEBREAD (Re-examined). On 31st January Mortlock and another man drove up in Adams's pony and trap—one of them came in and asked if they could see George Pauncefort—we went to Pauncefort, and Mortlock asked him £9 for the pony and trap—Mortlock said he wanted the money for rent—Pauncefort gave him £6, and drove away with the pony and trap.
Cross-examined. I heard Mortlock tell Pauncefort in answer to his question that the horse and trap were his own; he said he had the brokers in, and wanted the money to pay his rent—the pony looked dirty; Pauncefort examined it—I touched it, and it started squealing—I said it was a kicker—the spring of the trap was broken—Mortlock drove the pony up and down the road, and could not get it out of a trot; that was before Pauncefort bought it.
Re-examined. I don't believe the pony had been overdriven—I did not hear Mortlock say how he had managed to get it out of the possession of the brokers.
EDWARD BOWES . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Singer—Mortlock has been in their employment—a machine of the value of £8, on which he had paid 12s., was delivered to him—it was pawned for £2, and was found in Pauncefort's possession—it was a new machine, and had only been out for a few months—Mrs. Somerville's machine was worth £5, and Mrs. Keogh's £6 7s. 6d.
Pauncefort received a good character.
— NOT GUILTY .
MORTLOCK PLEADED GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. No evidence was offered against
PAUNCEFORT— NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOYSES Prosecuted; and MESSRS. C. F. GILL, COLAM, and A. GILL Defended.
CHARLES L'ENFANT . I am a clerk in the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of proceedings in respect of the bankruptcy of Frederick Keogh—the receiving order was 7th July, 1891, and the adjudication on 9th July—there is an order signed by Mr. Registrar Brougham—the gross liabilities are £4,866, 5s. 6d., or £4,677 16s. 2d. excepting the rent—the estimated deficiency is £3,829 11s. 9d.
GEORGE BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am Senior Official Shorthand Writer to the Court of Bankruptcy; I have offices at 13, Portugal Street, Lincoln's Ian—I took a shorthand note of the public examination of Frederick Keogh on 30th October, 1891, under the bankruptcy proceedings—the bankrupt attended on the following week and read over the answers and signed them—I produce a correct transcript of my notes—all the answers were given on oath. (Mr. Snell read extracts from the notes).
Cross-examined. I believe the tickets for these pianos came from the prisoner's solicitor.
JOHN CAUDLE . I am a manager to Mr. Henry Harrison, of 21, Clarendon Square, Somers Town—I have my books—on 3rd July, 1891, I took in a piano from the prisoner for £12, and another one for £11, and a third one—they were walnut pianos—these are the contract notes—those pianos were redeemed by someone in September or October—on 4th July a piano was pawned with me by Mr. Morris, Keogh's name was on it—the next transaction was on 7th July; I lent £7 10s. on a walnut piano—when he was pledging these pianos I asked if they were his own, and he said they were, as far as I remember.
Cross-examined. The pianos were not brought by the prisoner, but he came to receive the money—he came just as the van was at the door, and completed the transaction by entering into the contract—I see in Court the man who brought them—I cannot identify any of Mr. Stewart's pianos—the only number on the contract note and counterfoil it our own number; we did not put down the number of the piano—the piano trade is very fluctuating—it is not an unusual thing for dealers and small manufacturers, in bad times, to pledge and redeem pianos; they often put them in pledge during the bad season.
PERCY MASON . I am trustee to this bankruptcy—I received from the Official Receiver £200 for the stock-in-trade—the pianos in stock had been sold by him before I came into office—there were twelve pianos and organs in stock at the date of the receiving order.
Cross-examined. The £200 was for stock-in-trade, household furniture, and pawn-tickets—the pawn-tickets were dealt with as assets, and were sold by the Official Receiver to persons who afterwards redeemed them.
Re-examined. I should say there were four or five organs and half-a-dozen pianos.
CHARLES JULIUS CASPARS . I am a merchant of 174 Coleman Street—on 27th May, 1891, I sold the prisoner a piano for £28—he gave me a four months' acceptance; I afterwards saw the piano at his place—I have not received one penny of the £28.
Cross-examined. At various times I asked him whether he would buy a piano—he was introduced to me by a friend of mine, and I solicited orders in the usual way of business.
WALTER WHITTON . Up to 28th May last I was a piano manufacturer; and for ten years before that I had numerous transactions with the prisoner—on 28th May I failed—at that time I owed Keogh between £400 and £500—on his failure he owed me about £1,000, I think—I have received no portion of that—it was owing in respect of transactions in organs and pianos, which I have let him have from time to time—I believe Mr. Steinwitz is a pianoforte maker.
Cross-examined. I am not a complaining party here—I had been in business for a number of years, and I knew the prisoner had been in business for ten or twelve years—the piano business fluctuates very much—my indebtedness to him being for £400 or £500 actually due to him, his indebtedness to me related to bills that had not matured—as far as he knew he might have expected to got the £400 or £500 I owed him—the bills extended over six months—I believe it is usual to pledge pianos when matters are pressing, and to redeem them afterwards—I have done so, and I know that dealers do it in the dead season.
Re-examined. Broadwood and Collard do not do it—the prisoner's acceptances have become due—some of the bills have been renewed from time to time.
STEWART JACK . I trade as Stewart and Stewart, at Arlington Buildings, Camden Road—on 9th May, 1891, I sold the prisoner two walnut pianos for £13 6s. each; I took a six months' bill which he accepted no portion of that bill has been paid—on 13th May I sold him two more pianos, Nos. 3,267 and 3,270, at £13 6s. 6d. a-piece; he gave me a bill—on the 21st May I sold him two pianos, Nos. 3,268 and 3,274, for £27 6s.; he gave me a bill—on 27th May I sold him two pianos, Nos. 3,272 and 3,273. for £32; he gave me a bill—he asked me to lend him £25 on that day, and I gave him this cheque for £20—I have not been paid one penny for any of those pianos—he owes me £241 to the best of my knowledge—I only heard that he was a pianoforte manufacturer or dealer—I sold these pianos in the ordinary way of business—he came to me—he gave me references to four gentlemen in the trade I knew well; and it was only by putting confidence in them that I supplied him—he gave me an envelope with his name—the pianos I sold him had numbers stamped on them in two places; one was written by me on the treble basing, and the other was on the lining—he described himself as a pianoforte dealer—if I had not believed that these were ordinary business transactions I should not have let him have them on credit—I inquired of the references he gave; one was my own banker, the Union Bank; and another was Mr. Neat, the bill discounter—it was only through the references that I gave him credit; I should not have given him credit unless I believed they were proper business transactions.
Cross-examined. I was thoroughly satisfied with the result of my inquiries from the references; so much so that I would have given £1,000—I was anxious to do business with him directly, or for him to send me names to do business with—he took up two of my bills—after I parted with the pianos I saw two of them in Steinwitz's room in St. James's Street; they were Nos. 3,272 and 3,273.
By the COURT. None of the numbers on my pianos can be seen from the outside; a dealer in buying might or might not look for the number—my first dealing with the prisoner was in November, 1890, when I sold him one piano; I lent him £20 to pay for it; there were no more transactions between us till May.
MR. GILL submitted that there was no evidence of false pretences under the Counts alleging that charge; and that as to the Counts alleging illegal pawning, there was no evidence as to what pianos had been pawned; specific pianos were mentioned in the indictment, but none of the pianos pledged had been
identified, and might not have been obtained on credit, or might have been obtained before, four months before the bankruptcy. MR. MOYES argued that the whole matter was for the JURY. The COURT ruled that there woe no evidence to go to the JURY, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS GILLMAN . I am a shoemaker, of 2, Foster Street, Bethnal Green Road—on 11th March, 1886, I went through the ceremony of marriage with the prisoner at St. Mary's Church, Walthamstow—she always told me she was not married—we lived together till October last.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not tell me in 1881 that you were married, but that you did not know where your husband was—you told me two years ago.
ALFRED GOULD (Police Sergeant G). On 6th February I arrested the prisoner in Hoxton Street, and told her she would be charged with marrying Gillman in March, 1888, her husband being alive—she said, "Quite right; but I believe Gillman knew I was a married woman"—Gillman set me in motion.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BROXHOLME Prosecuted.
LOUISA WATNIK (Interpreted). I am the wife of Aaron Watnik, living at Brick Lane—at four o'clock on 7th February I came back to my room and saw the prisoner there—I said, What are you doing here?"—he made no reply—I did not know him before—he had packed up a bundle, in which were a cape, two coats, three waistcoats, and an overcoat belonging to my husband, and a velvet bodice—when I spoke to him he opened the door and ran out—he left a hat on the stairs.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not tell me you came there to see a countryman.
WALTER FUNNELL (88 H). At four o'clock on 7th February I heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running, followed by two or three people—he had no hat on—I stopped him, and not understanding what lie said I took him to the station, where he was detained while I made inquiries—at 42, Brick Lane I found a hat lying on the floor the passage, and a large bundle of clothing packed up in the first floor front room ready for removal—I conveyed him to the station—in his right trousers pocket I found this jemmy and these two pawn-tickets, relating to a gold watch and a ring, and in his left-hand pocket this skeleton key; down the leg of his trousers this gold watch—when charged the-prisoner said the hat belonged to him.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that a man struck him, and that he was running away when the constable caught him.
GUILTY —There were two other indictments against the prisoner.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, March 11th, and Saturday, March 12th, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
370. GEORGE WOODYATT HASTINGS (66) was indicted for that he being trustee for a sum of £15,000 did unlawfully and with intent to defraud, convert the same to his own use and benefit. In eight other Counts he was charged with appropriating certain securities to his own use, which he had received as a trustee. To this indictment he
PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. LOCK WOOD, Q. C., with HON. ALFRED LYTTLETON, appeared for the prisoner, who received the highest character from Lord Coventry, Lord Aberdare, Lord Cobham, and others.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY. MESSRS. G. F. GILL and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, MR. PAUL TAYLOR
appeared for the prisoner.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.-There were other indictments against the prisoner.
MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. C.F. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. ABINGER Defended.
GUILTY — Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
374. ALEXIS RUDET (44) , Unlawfully conspiring with Louis Allard to demand money from William Leybourn Popham; two other Counts, for threatening to publish certain matters and things, and for proposing to abstain from publishing.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. ABINGER Defended.
MR. ABINGER submitted that a difficulty arose in this case, from the fact that the principal witness would be the wife of the man Allard, who had just been convicted; although under the circumstances of that charge she was a com' petent witness against her husband, she could not be examined against the present defendant, whose conspiracy if with anyone was with Allard.
MR. GILL contended that her evidence was admissible to prove that Rudet conspired with Allard; although not for the purpose of establishing Allard is conspiracy with Rudet. After argument MR. GILL, at the suggestion of MR. JUSTICE SMITH, abandoned the first Count, alleging conspiracy, and the case on the two other Counts was left to the
JURY, who found the prisoner GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday and Saturday, March 11th, and 12th, and
OLD COURT—Monday, March 14th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
375. GEORGEGE KIRKE JEFFREYS, ALFRED BENJAMIN , and JULIAN HYPOLITE SARPY , Unlawfully forging and uttering a Sandwich Islands postage-stamp. Other Counts, for forging and uttering other foreign stamps. Other Counts, for conspiracy to defraud.
GEORGE FREDERICK CLAYTON . I am a postman, in the employ of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General, and live at 25, Hazelwood Crescent, Westbourne Park—I have known Jeffreys since 1841, and have seen him in possession of Sandwich Islands stamps; he told me he got them from Ponsford and Co.—these (produced) are "the Sandwich Islands stamps; they all have what appear to be postmarks on them, and are gummed to some paper—they are perforated—when I first saw them in Jeffreys' possession they were not gummed, perforated, or post-marked—I saw him gum and perforate some of them—I have never sold any of these stamps; I received some of them from Jeffreys, I did not purchase them; I had lent him £3, and he told me I might have them and sell them to get my money back—I did not sell them myself, but through others to Sidney Swann, and not more than half a dozen to Mr. Buhl—I sold from fifty to a hundred, and got about £5 or £6 for them—there is no value attached to them—no such stamp ever existed in the Sandwich Islands as far as I know—I afterwards saw Mr. Buhl, and returned him some of the money he had paid for them, and I procured some of the stamps without a post-mark and gave them to him—I have been to Jeffreys house, 80, Grove Road, Bow, about four times; in 1886 or 1887, and saw him put a surcharge on some Costa Rica stamps with a small printers press and type—I have known Benjamin and Sarpy about the same time, and saw them together at one time in the same year very frequently—I have sold stamps for them which were genuine to the best of my belief; I do not suppose they, were always genuine—I sold them to Mr. Buhl and others—I met Jeffreys and Benjamin in 1889 in Benjamin and Sarpy's shop, 1, Cullum Street; he showed me some Tasmanian stamps, and said that they were the latest—I said that they were very good forgeries—I saw Sarpy put a fourpenny surcharge on a Grenada fiscal stamp in his shop—he did it with a small metal die; Benjamin was in the shop—I have seen perforating machines there; these (produced) are three of them, and I sold them a small printing press, No. 1 Model, large enough for printing visiting cards or stamps.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. The firm had these Sandwich Islands transactions with Jeffreys about August, 1886; I was three days or a week dealing with the stamps—there is no such stamp as this—the Sandwich Islands stamp is nothing at all like it, either in size or impression—I saw the original pen-and-ink sketch on paper from which these stamps were made before the stamps were printed; Jeffreys showed it to me and told me he had got them printed, so that I knew perfectly well that they were not genuine—I did not sell it as genuine—I gave no warranty with the stamps I sold—I sold some other faked stamps knowing that they were faked, but if the people asked me if they were genuine I should have told them no—I let them rely on their own judgment—I made a little collection—there are a great number of fakes; the proper term is fac similes I also know that there are reprints; the process I saw at Jeffreys' was
for type, not for stone—I took my money out of the £5 or £6, and handed the balance to Jeffreys.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. This (produced) is the press I sold to Sarpy; it is broken now, as it was when I sold it—it would not stand much use in the state it is in; it would become worse—I have taken an interest in collecting stamps since 1886—I got into the service of the Post Office in 1890, and have been in their service nearly two years—I was an office boy in Threadneedle Street when I first began to take an interest in stamps—after that I was steward on board a boat, and occasionally in the employ of the Post Office, and eventually altogether—a great many lads of twelve to sixteen sell stamps, and people do a considerable trade in it—there are a great many stamps which are not genuine—I knew Jeffreys by the name of the faker before I became acquainted with him, sometime before 1886; I cannot say whether it was so far back as 1891—I knew he produced stamps which were not genuine—I first saw Benjamin in the Stamp Market, Bell Alley, London—that is a place where all the boys congregate to buy and sell stamps—a dozen or more would congregate there when Benjamin was round—I have seen other persons buy besides Benjamin—the last time I sold stamps was to Benjamin and Bannister—I cannot bring to memory selling any for Benjamin and Sarpy—I only knew the firm as Benjamin, but I knew Sarpy at that time—I sold one large lot of genuine stamps for Benjamin and Bannister—the majority, if not all, were genuine—Mr. Buhl never complained, he never came to me in that transaction at all—I never heard that any of those I sold were not genuine—a lot of people buy fakes knowing them to be such—I heard Mr. Phillips say that there are people who possess albums full of stamps which do not profess to be genuine—there always were a lot of dealers who bought stamps knowing they were wrong, and I have bought some myself—the Sydney View is a very pretty stamp; it gives a view of the bay—;fake stamps are sold for a small price compared with the genuine—there are stamps so rare that only two or three of them are in existence, but I have never seen them—I believe that when the genuine stamp cannot be obtained people frequently buy a fake stamp.
Re-examined. They buy them because they are sold—the dealers are the people who would buy fake stamps—I have seen Benjamin and Sarpy in the stamp market; the boys buy and sell and exchange them, and fake stamps would be bought, sold, and exchanged—I have sometimes got the genuine price for the forged stamp—I did not seek Jeffreys out because people called him the faker—I do not think fac similes are always marked as such; you can tell them by their appearance; if it is done so that you cannot distinguish them from the original they ought to be marked—I believe this press can still do a little printing.
SIDNEY SWANN . For the past two or three years I have done nothing, owing to my failing sight, but three years ago I was a dealer in foreign stamps—I met Jeffreys in 1886, and he offered me a little money if I would take two plates and a sketch to an engraver named Ponsford—I did so; these (produced) are something like two of the stamps—I was to order 1,000 of each, and give Jeffreys' name, and I did so—Mr. Clayton afterwards gave me some of the stamps, and told me to sell them for him—I do not Know how many there were, but 50s. or 60s. was given for
them—I sold them to Mr. Buhl—I gave the money to Mr. Clayton, I believe.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I think it was in the middle of the day that Jeffreys gave me the sketch—he had not got the plate.
THOMAS HENRY PONSFORD . I am a printer and engraver, of 60, Little New Street, City—on August 18th, 1886,1 got an order to engrave two steel plates, 5 by 4, according to a sketch—1,000 were to be printed from each plate, one in blue and one in carmine—the name given was G. K. Jeffreys, 80, Victoria Park Road—the engraving was to be £3 15s., and the printing £1 9s.—I executed the order; I forget whether it was delivered or called for—the stamps produced are what I engraved—when they left my premises they were not marked in this way; they were in a large sheet, but not perforated or gummed—I did not know for what purpose they were intended.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I do not remember the person who brought the sketch—I do not recognise Jeffreys—they called more than once—I think it was the same person each time—I do not recognize Swann—the second call was to give me directions as to colour, and after the plate was done there were inquiries about the printing—80, Grove Road was the address given me.
ALBERT FELSENTHAAL . I am a dealer in foreign stamps, and have traded under the name of Lester, 101, Green's Road—I first knew Benjamin about six years ago, and Jeffreys and Sarpy five years ago—I was at Jeffreys' house and saw him surcharge some stamps of the Argentine Republic—he stamped them with the word "official"—I may have had a dozen, or perhaps two dozen, after he had surcharged them—I showed them to various dealers; I don't remember the result; I did not want them, hut he forced them on me—he gave them to me in exchange—he gave me a piece of paper with surcharges on it; he termed them the faker's pride—I should say they were very good, and very likely to deceive; likely to be taken for genuine—I saw him frequently at Benjamin and Sarpy's business premises at Cullum Street, and soon after Benjamin returned from Australia in 1888, and I once met Jeffreys in Bishopsgate Street—Benjamin was nearly always at Cullum Street when I saw Jeffreys there; and during the latter part of the time, 1890 and 1891, Sarpy has been there—the three always transacted their business at the back, and we had to go out; I was outside, but not on all occasions—I have seen money pass, principally on Saturdays, in 1889 and 1890—in 1890 Benjamin said he was going to fake forgeries, and there was plenty of money to be got out of it—he told me once that he and Sarpy had been at Jeffreys' house all night surcharging stamps—I have sold stamps for Benjamin and Sarpy since his return from Australia down to six months back; they were mostly forgeries—they were good imitations—I sold some as forgeries to Mr. Buhl; he was my principal customer; I sold them nearly all to him, saying what they were—I sold the others to dealers since this case began; they, of course, would sell again—I remember selling Mr. Buhl a forged stamp as a genuine one once by accident, and once by design—I got the full value, and nothing was said; I simply sold it for 3s.—in all other cases I told him they were forgeries—in the other instance the Mump was given by Benjamin as genuine—the stamps I sold to dealers were such good imitations that they would deceive dealers—I once took
some fiscal stamps to Jeffreys, and asked him to clean them, meaning to remove the ink marks; he said he had not been doing anything in that line lately, it was trifling business and lie had better things than that—I asked him how to clean them; he said he could tell me if I did not mention it to any one, and wrote out on a bit of paper the description how to clean various coloured stamps, and gave it to me—the stamps were all of low value; he asked if I had any £5 or £10 stamps to let him have them in exchange for the receipt for cleaning, which I kept—this is it (This mentioned salts of lemon and other chemicals); he said that the four articles at the bottom were the principal acids he used.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I got that at Jeffreys' house on Sunday, November 22nd, 1891—that was the second time I had been there—I had not made au appointment to go there—I was in communication at that time with Detective Mozer, as regards the prosecution—I went there to collect evidence, not as a spy—I gave the document to Mozer the following day—I kept it twelve hours—no one else was present when he gave it to me—I said nothing before the Magistrate about his asking me for some higher value stamps in return, but I told Mr. Mozer—I did not ask him on my first visit to put this surcharge on—I had from ten to twenty-four of these—that is the only transaction I had with Jeffreys—I mean to say that I saw Sarpy in Jeffreys' shop in 1891; we have played at cards together after business hours in 1890, but not in 1891.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have done business in the City as a stamp-dealer six and a half years—I have no office; I go to my father's office, Bury Court, St. Mary Axe—I buy stamps from housekeepers and waste-paper dealers—I do my business at home—I have several customers at the Exchange in the street—I do my business in the street—I buy them, and take them away with me and sell them to dealers—I bought a lot hero last night—I have no other business—I know the principal dealers in the City and West-end—I have known for a good many years that stamps are being sold which are not genuine—I know the term "fake"; it means stamps which are not genuine—I have only bought stamps of Benjamin and Sarpy on two or three occasions, and quite recently; the first time was about seven or eight months ago—I know they have been dealing for some time in stamps which are not genuine; Benjamin did so a few months after I knew him, five and a half years ago—I first went to 1, Cullum Street when Benjamin returned from Australia in 1888—I knew Benjamin and Bannister, but that was not at Cullum Street—I first visited Benjamin in Leathersellers' Buildings and Bell Alley about six years ago; I did not know then that he dealt in stamps which were not genuine, but I knew it a few months afterwards—I visited him almost every day down to his coming to Cullum Street, but the first time I bought any of him was about seven months ago—I actually sold him my stamps four or five years before I bought any of him, and I knew the whole of the time that ho dealt in stamps which wore not genuine—since his return, in 1888, I have seen him do the work which made them pass as if they were real—I did not see them in his shop, but I knew he dealt in them by being told so by people—we all used to go to a public-house together and play at billiards, and I learned the fact from conversations in his place—certain people who dealt in forgeries were present—I
first knew that any person was a maker of these things when I visited Jeffreys' house five or six years ago—about seven months ago I bought stamps of him which I knew were not genuine, and I have done so, I should say, three times since—I bought them as forgeries so as to keep in with them that they should not suspect me—I had seen Mr. Mozer at that time, but I did not tell Benjamin that I came at Mozer's instance—Benjamin would sometimes give me forgeries, and say that they were genuine; I did not know that all were forgeries, sometimes he said that they were forgeries and sometimes genuine, and the genuine ones turned out to be forgeries; but they were genuine in one or two instances—I have heard of people getting stamps into their possession which they believe to be genuine, but are not, and I know of one instance—in some instances forged stamps are purchased for the purpose of testing the genuine ones; many dealers have been taken in by them—when I was told that stamps were not genuine, I always sold them as such—I always sold them to dealers, principally to Mr. Buhl; I have sold him fifty and a hundred which I was told were not genuine, and he has bought them for detection—he asked where I got them, and I told him from Benjamin and Sarpy—I have sold them to two other dealers as not being genuine; they would have bought them as genuine, but I told them they were not; I either said they were fakes, or forgeries—stamps which have been marked are subjected to treatment and the marks removed, but they are not sold openly by dealers to my knowledge—I bought one number of The Stamp Collectors' Monthly—I have heard the name of Cheveley, Wilson, and Co.—stamps from which the ink marks have been taken out have been sold to be taken as unused—fakes have been sold to Continental dealers in large numbers—a fac simile is not a stamp which could be used—I do no know whether they are advertised in France, Germany, and America; I do not study catalogues.
Re-examined. As to cleaning stamps the ink marks would be taken out, and they would be used as new stamps; I have seen an instance of it—there is a considerable trade with the Continent—fac similes are wonderfully good imitations; they are outright forgeries, they are printed from the original plate which is no longer in use, and has been sold by Government.
OTTO DANNENBERG . I am a clerk out of employment—in 1891 I was in the employ of Mr. Hart, a stamp dealer in London—Jeffreys called on him, and I heard a conversation in reference to some Sydney View stamps, which Hart bought at 3s. each; a genuine one is worth 20s. to 30s.—Jeffreys said he had sold Benjamin a quantity of them, and we were not to say anything about it, as he had told Benjamin he would not sell any within a certain period—that was in June, 1891—I saw Jeffreys two or three days later at his house, 80, Grove Road. Bow, and asked him to bring some more Sydney Views for Mr. Hart—he was in his shirt-sleeves, and said he was engraving a die, and just left off to see me—he had a graving tool in his hand—he showed me some impressions from a die for an eightpenny Ceylon stamp and two pieces of star water-mark paper—he said that Benjamin and Hart had agreed to go partners in the profit, but, having fallen out, Jeffreys had to pay for the whole of the papers—he did not show me the die; he said he did not
keep them on the premises; he had a place which no one knew but himself.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. The star water-mark paper was a foot square—I have not seen other pieces that size before—I do not know how wide apart the stars were—this was in the evening—I went down for Jeffreys to call on Mr. Hart I do not know whether Hart is in this country—I have sold fakes, both in this country and abroad; I sold them as genuine on the Continent, but not in this country—the imperfect eightpenny Ceylon impression was on cardboard, I think—the head was in.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have known Benjamin about seven years, and Sarpy three or four years—about two years ago I saw a card of their business, which said that they sold fakes of all descriptions—I also saw a 1s. 9d. Ceylon stamp, and a blue Tasmanian—Mr. Hart bought one, but they were not well enough executed to take people in—I have seen, perhaps, 100 Queensland stamps not genuine—they came from Mr. Hart; who got them from an employé of the Bank of Queensland—Mr. Hart cleaned and marked some New Zealand stamps—the business has been going on about three years—I believe this (produced) is Benjamin and Sarpy's card, which I saw two years ago.
Re-examined. I did not make a very accurate observation of the card—it said, "Fakes of all descriptions Supplied on the shortest notice, or something of that kind—the eightpenny Ceylon stamp was not finished, he was in the course of engraving it—the man at the Bank of Queensland did not supply them, with any knowledge of forgery—first of all Jefferys supplied Mr. Hart with stamps which were known to be forged—I had some stamps from Benjamin and Sarpy; they were forgeries, and known to be such—the stamps supplied by the employé of the Queensland Bank were half-crown, ten shillings, and one pound postal and fiscal—they were perfectly genuine—besides the three prisoners a man named Bannister supplied forged stamps to Mr. Bart, who bought them and sold them to collectors as genuine.
HUBERT GRIEBERT . I am a stamp dealer, of 135, Fenchurch Street—I have had a shop next door to Benjamin and Sarpy for nine months, and have done business with them—I have been in their shop in Cullum Street many times, and have seen blocks of wood on the counter—I do not know what they were used for—I have bought stamps for them—in May, 1891, I bought two Sydney View stamps as genuine for £2 the two—I afterwards sold them, and a complaint was made about them—I went to the customer and paid him back the money he had paid me, and received the stamps back—I afterwards saw Benjamin, and told him they were forged, and asked him to return me the money I had paid—he said he bought them for genuine, and did not know when he sold them to me that they were not genuine—as far as I remember he returned me the value of the £2 in other stamps in exchange, but I kept the two stamps—he did not ask me to give them back—I did not believe they were forgeries, but I said nothing to him to that effect—in August, 1891, I went to Benjamin's shop, and bought three Baden kroitzer stamps for fifteen shillings the three, which was a fair price assuming them to be genuine; if they were not they would be worth nothing; about a week afterwards I found that they were forgeries, and went to Benjamin's shop; he was not there, but I saw Sarpy and asked him to return me the money; he said he did know anything about it and asked me to wait—I
waited, and about three weeks afterwards I went again and Benjamin returned me 12s. out of the 15s. I had paid—he said he bought them for genuine, I returned them—after my attention was called to them I noticed that the 8 in "18" was different from the original.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have been in this trade about six years and have known of these non-genuine stamps being dealt in during that time—I have bought collections from people in a respectable position and thought all stamps in my possession were genuine, but they were not—I paid £2 for the Sydney Views—I know the word fake—I have bought what I know to be forgeries twice or three times in Benjamin's shop—I cannot tell you the number; they were for myself and my customers; I gave them away to my customers to show that they were forged; I gave away ten or fifteen like that—these fakes are made abroad, and sold in sheets, 240 stamps for a halfpenny—I know that Benjamin sold non-genuine stamps sometimes—I once went to him to ask him to surcharge stamps about eight months ago—I had a lot of genuine stamps in my possession, and I wanted to protect myself and my customers against these forgeries—the stamps he surcharged were Portuguese and Madras and Azores—I kept about ten of them, and gave away five or six—I think I was in the shop while they were being done—I rook seventy or eighty Orange Free State fiscal stamps to Benjamin to have them cleaned and post-marked—I was to pay thirty shillings—they belonged to somebody I knew—I cannot tell you his name, I did not take it—he knew Benjamin, but did not want to go into his shop, and he got me to go—I suppose he was a dealer—I returned them to him—I was to have thirty shillings profit, and I told him Benjamin would charge thirty shillings—Benjamin said I was to take the Baden stamps at fifteen shillings, but if I took them back as fakes he would return me twelve shillings—I said, "Are they forgeries?"—he said, "No; but if they come back I will give you twelve shillings for them"; and he did so—I have only been in England eighteen months—I first saw the card of Benjamin and Sarpy about six months ago; one of them gave it to me—I did not see any of them lying about in the shop—Mr. Phillips employed me about seven months ago to try and buy the whole stock-in-trade of Benjamin and Sarpy; he is the secretary of the Philatelical Journal, and the prosecutor in this case—he told me it was a very good stock—it would not have been worth buying if they were all forgeries—Benjamin asked me £1,700 or £1,800—I examined the stock very roughly, and formed the opinion that it was a good stock, and told Benjamin and Sarpy that before I could proceed with the purchase, the person for whom I was buying must see the stock without their being present, and they declined to allow that—I have no doubt that Mr. Phillips was really desirous of purchasing the stock—he asked me whether I thought they would recognise him if he went to inspect it disguised, but I think he only meant fun—I looked at the stock—I thought it was not quite worth the money asked for it—I thought it was worth about £1,200 or £1,300—they were genuine stamps—I understood the £1,700 was for the whole of the business, at least Benjamin said we could have all the stamps they had in possession—I don't know whether they showed me all the stamps.
Re-examined, My estimate was rough; I had only twenty minutes to value them—I had not then seen any forgeries—I cannot give you the date,
waited, and about three weeks afterwards I went again and Benjamin returned me 12s. out of the 15s. I had paid—he said he bought them for genuine, I returned them—after my attention was called to them I noticed that the 8 in "18" was different from the original.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have been in this trade about six years and have known of these non-genuine stamps being dealt in during that time—I have bought collections from people in a respectable position and thought all stamps in my possession were genuine, but they were not—I paid £2 for the Sydney Views—I know the word fake—I have bought what I know to be forgeries twice or three times in Benjamin's shop—I cannot tell you the number; they were for myself and my customers; I gave them away to my customers to show that they were forged; I gave away ten or fifteen like that—these fakes are made abroad, and sold in sheets, 240 stamps for a halfpenny—I know that Benjamin sold non-genuine stamps sometimes—I once went to him to ask him to surcharge stamps about eight months ago—I had a lot of genuine stamps in my possession, and I wanted to protect myself and my customers against these forgeries—the stamps he surcharged were Portuguese and Madras and Azores—I kept about ten of them, and gave away five or six—I think I was in the shop while they were being done—I rook seventy or eighty Orange Free State fiscal stamps to Benjamin to have them cleaned and post-marked—I was to pay thirty shillings—they belonged to somebody I knew—I cannot tell you his name, I did not take it—he knew Benjamin, but did not want to go into his shop, and he got me to go—I suppose he was a dealer—I returned them to him—I was to have thirty shillings profit, and I told him Benjamin would charge thirty shillings—Benjamin said I was to take the Baden stamps at fifteen shillings, but if I took them back as fakes he would return me twelve shillings—I said, "Are they forgeries?"—he said, "No; but if they come back I will give you twelve shillings for them"; and he did so—I have only been in England eighteen months—I first saw the card of Benjamin and Sarpy about six months ago; one of them gave it to me—I did not see any of them lying about in the shop Mr. Phillips employed me about seven months ago to try and buy the whole stock-in-trade of Benjamin and Sarpy; he is the secretary of the Philatelical Journal, and the prosecutor in this case—he told me it was a very good stock—it would not have been worth buying if they were all forgeries—Benjamin asked me £1,700 or £1,800—I examined the stock very roughly, and formed the opinion that it was a good stock, and told Benjamin and Sarpy that before I could proceed with the purchase, the person for whom I was buying must see the stock without their being present, and they declined to allow that—I have no doubt that Mr. Phillips was really desirous of purchasing the stock—he asked me whether I thought they would recognise him if he went to inspect it disguised, but I think he only meant fun—I looked at the stock—I thought it was not quite worth the money asked for it—I thought it was worth about £1,200 or £1,300—they were genuine stamps—I understood the £1,700 was for the whole of the business, at least Benjamin said we could have all the stamps they had in possession—I don't know whether they showed me all the stamps.
Re-examined, My estimate was rough; I had only twenty minutes to value them—I had not then seen any forgeries—I cannot give you the date,
Philatelical Society, or a special notice that they would not be answerable for the genuineness of any stamps bought at their establishment—I have had stamps repaired for me, when the perforation was cut I had it mended; I had some where the perforation was only on three sides, and got Sarpy to put a perforation on the fourth side—that would make them more valuable if the stamp was not damaged; it would only increase the value very slightly—that would not be faking unless it was perforated afterwards altogether—I sometimes asked them to let me see their latest fake; they did not always show it—I am called the artful man—I have sometimes sold stamps to Benjamin—I have got five or six stamps perforated. lb-examined. They were genuine stamps—their business card was not generally available—the work was done in the shop, and they would talk to a respectable collector, and sometimes to inferior dealers; if a stranger came in everything was kept quiet—I never read any notice there about forged stamps.
By the COURT. The stamps I had perforated on the fourth side were for my own private collection, not to sell—I am in the habit of exchanging stamps, like most collectors; I did not exchange these, they are still in my collection—the fourth side had been perforated, but had been accidentally cut off.
By MR. WILLIS. Enough paper was left at the edge of the stamp to have the perforation done—they are old stamps, and are valuable—in some of the Colonies many years ago the stamps next to the edge were without perforation; if I got one I should have it perforated, that it might be complete—that was not the case with my five or six stamps; I believe the perforation had been cut off them, but there was ample room for another.
JULIUS CYRIAX . I am one of a firm of manufacturing chemists, of 16, Coleman Street, City—I was a collector of stamps for some years up to 1890—I knew Benjamin, in partnership with Bannister, in Bell Alley—I bought a number of stamps from them up to about 1886—I think £300 would cover the whole I paid them—I paid them £70 for the first pick out of a large collection—then I bought post-office used stamps—I had them examined by experts—stamps were purchased out of the collection shown to me—I wrote to Benjamin—he came and saw me in November, 1890—I told him some stamps which he had shown me had been pronounced doubtful, and insisted upon his firm taking them back, and refunding me the money—he assured me the postal-marks were perfectly genuine; but they agreed to pay me back £100, the amount I paid for them—half was repaid me in January, 1890, and the other in January, 1891—I received a letter from Mr. Buhl in 1886, enclosing this cheque for £25.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I first bought in 1882 from Benjamin—I had seen Benjamin and Bannister together, and thought they were partners—I purchased good stamps prior to the £70 parcel—the parcel they paid me back I purchased in 1884, 1885, and 1886—I took them back in 1890—the doubt was about the postmark—I don't know Sarpy—I have collected stamps since 1880—I have known of false stamps since 1880—I have had doubtful stamps from other dealers—I cannot fix the number; they were not of importance—I have had them mostly from Continental dealers.
Re-examined, If the stamps had not been cancelled they would have
been worth more than I paid for them—they were fiscal stamps of £3, £4, £5, and £6 unused—if postmarks bad been put upon them other than by the Post Office in Australia they would be worth nothing.
DOUGLAS MACKENZIE I am employed by my brother, a "West Indian merchant in the City—I have been a stamp collector sixteen years—for three years I have known Benjamin and Sarpy, and Jeffreys some time before that—I have occasionally written for the Philatelical Journal—I have been interested in finding out particulars about forgeries—I have visited Benjamin and Sarpy's shop frequently for the purpose of finding out and tracing forgeries—they have boasted to me about their forgeries—they mentioned the Sydney View and Ceylon—they said Jeffreys had manufactured the St. Vincent surcharged fourpenny and shilling stamps—either Benjamin or Sarpy showed those to me—I have seen dies for postmarks, perforating machines, and the star watermark paper—Sarpy showed me the paper—he said they had it specially made—he afterwards showed me the stamp printed on it—that was a Ceylon forgery—he said it was to be sold in Paris as genuine—I bought a sheet of the 1s. Victoria blue stamps—I passed it on to Mr. Buhl—they were forgeries—they were sold to me as forgeries—I bought Ceylons and Sydney Views—I have them here—I inquired for the card, "Fakes supplied on the shortest notice"—I got it from Sarpy—he took it from his pocket, and said, "This is the latest fake"—that was in October, 1890—I asked him to let me have one; he said, "No; I cannot do that"—he finally sold me one for 5s.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I have brought all the stamps but the 1s. Victorian—there were twelve on the sheet—I have not seen the blue sheet—I do not know how close the stars are, but I should judge by the stars that are printed on them—I am not responsible for the article in the Philatelical Journal as to the mania for collecting stamps in 1872.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I gave the card to the police—it was published in Mr. Buhl's Stamp News in November, 1890—I did not tell the prisoners I was going to publish the card—I did not ask their permission to publish it—I did not say I was going to sell them—I had the intention to publish it when I bought it—they did not say, "Very well, you shall pay us 5s. for it"; they positively declined to let me have it—no such thing was mentioned—I have been in communication with Mr. Buhl for five years—I have given him Victorians, purchased at Benjamin and Sarpy's—I have spent some time there; I used often to go in at lunch-time as I passed the shop—I have seen them perforating and postmarking the stamps—they postmarked a railway ticket for me—it is in Court, I believe—I have known of the prisoners having non-genuine postage-stamps since 1890—I have been to their shop before 1890, but I never knew of the forgeries before—in 1890 they explained matters to me occasionally—they have told me to get rid of my West Indian stamps, because they should be making some—I have bought forged stamps of them—about half-a-dozen times since 1890—I knew they had forged stamps in their possession, although I had not bought any before 1890—I know persons have bought forged stamps, not for collecting, but for comparison—I thought the stamp paper I saw was taken off the margin of a sheet, till Sarpy told me he had it made.
Re-examined. I did not tell the prisoners I was in the habit of writing in stamp journals.
PERCY MAY BRIGHT . I am a stationer, bookseller, and dealer in stamps, at the Arcade, Bournemouth—about 23rd November, 1891, I called at Cullum Street, and bought some stamps from Benjamin, for about £2, as genuine—I took them to Bournemouth—next morning I examined them critically—I found a twelve kreutzer adhesive Bavarian was a forgery—I had paid 6s. 6d. for it—I paid for them separately—I sent it to Mr. Phillips by post—on the 23rd November I saw some stamps in Benjamin's shop window—that or the next time I saw a V. R. English—I do not think there was more than a week between my two visits—the label I saw attached to it was "Rare V. R."—that was not genuine—the black one (produced)—I could tell by looking; the top letters were let in—I had seen similar stamps with the letters printed over; if genuine, its value would be £6 to £8, according to condition—the one I saw was of no value—I was induced to pay 6s. 6d. for it because I believed it was genuine.
Cross-examined. I had known Phillips some time—he did not suggest my going to this shop—I have considerable doubt if he knew it, because I do not think I mentioned it to him or wrote to him—I believe I saw him the morning I went—I cannot recollect whether I told him I was going—my impression is I did not—I sent the card to Phillips because I am a member of the same association of which he is secretary—I had heard of Benjamin and Sarpy's before I went there—I advertise in the Stamp News—I take it in—I do not think I saw advertised in it, in November, 1890, "Fakes of all descriptions"; I have the journals for reference—I did not expect to buy forged stamps—I had done business with them once or twice before—I believe I saw the rare stamp after I got outside, not before I went in—I did not examine it in the shop, there was not sufficient light—a twelve kreutzer, said here to be worth 15s., I have advertised at a guinea—I did not go there by arrangement with Phillips.
Re-examined. 15s. to a guinea would be the retail prices, according to whether the stamp was fine or poor.
THEODORE BUHL . I am a stamp dealer, of 11, Victoria Street, City—some five years ago, when Benjamin was in partnership with Bannister, I bought some 1s. Vincent vermilion surcharged 4d. stamps from that firm—I bought three for 45s., from Benjamin or Bannister, as genuine—that was a fair price if genuine—within a day or so I found the surcharges were forgeries, and I wrote to them—I then had an interview with them—after I threatened to take steps against them they admitted they were forged, and returned the money—a short time afterwards I purchased from Clayton or Swann these supposed Sandwich Islands stamps (produced); I paid 50s. for them—I think it was 26th August, 1886—I thought they were genuine new issued stamps that I had not yet seen—I found there were no such stamps in the Sandwich Islands, and they were bogus—they had postmarks on them—I saw Clayton, and told him the stamps were bogus, and he agreed to return the money paid for them by instalments—he returned 2s. on two occasions—I have seen Jeffreys about half-a-dozen times—I dealt with him in 1882 or 1883—I have known Benjamin about ten years—I have had a good many dealings with him—I have known Sarpy about eight years—from 1883 onwards I bought a good many stamps and other things, believing them to be genuine—I dealt with Benjamin and Bannister first, and then with Benjamin and Sarpy—fiscal stamps with
postmarks on them—I bought of them last about four years ago—a good many I have sold believing to be genuine, a good many are bad, the Post Office said they were—I have seen Benjamin and Sarpy about them at Cullum Street—I received this sheet of twelve blue Victoria stamps from Mackenzie, which I handed to the detective—Mackenzie made a statement to me as to whence he had got it—they are forgeries—there is an obliteration of the postmarks upon four of them—both postmark and stamps are forgeries.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. The one shilling Victorian has dividing lines—the Sandwich Islands stamps are different in size, but similar in the central figure of the design to the 25-cent Sandwich Islands stamp—I never got the rest of my money from Clayton—I am the proprietor of the Stamp News—we advertise our right to refuse advertisements without giving reasons; also advertisements dealing in forgeries—it is usual to warrant stamps genuine—people do not advertise that they will not guarantee—I have bought forgeries for comparison, and for the Philatelical Protection Association, almost as long as I have been in business, nearly eleven years—I know the Mauritius brown and blue stamps—we sold some in November, 1890, as mementoes of the Philatelic Exhibition—they were issued before they were perforated—they were perforated by the Philatelic Exhibition committee by Perkins and Co.—they were not officially perforated.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have not knowingly sold forgeries—the price of the Suez Canal stamp is two shillings—they were not more in 1889; I believe they are a shilling dearer now than they were—Kenver of Paris wrote us for Suez Canal stamps, and I wrote Sarpy for them—I did not know they were not genuine, I had never seen the stamps—I did not send them to Paris—we have 20,000 correspondents, and I cannot recollect McCarthy—the eightpenny Canal stamps were reprints—we have a price list—there is a slight difference in a paper of reprints—a good many customers would not know the difference—I believe plates have been bought from the Government—as far as I recollect reprints are gummed—some Governments have reproduced stamps from old plates—those are reprints—that has been going on for ten years in British Guiana, Austria, and the United States—quantities have been disposed of—the last occasion I bought of Benjamin and Sarpy was two or three years ago—I have bought forged stamps from them—Felsenthaal has bought from Benjamin and Sarpy forged stamps, which I asked him to get for the Protection Association; and I sent them on at once—Penny, not Felsenthaal, sold me a die—Penny is a friend of Felsenthaal, and the prisoners—he lives near New Cross—we guarantee the stamps we sell, including reprints, which we sell as reprints; they are not called genuine; I do not ask if the stamp is genuine; I use my own judgment, as larger dealers do.
Re-examined. I was present at Cullum Street when the police searched the premises, after the prisoners were in custody—I do not recollect any dies being found there; I saw some things to hold type in, but I did not see everything that was there—I was present when the stamps were looked through—I have no recollection of seeing any Sandwich Islands stamps—I did not see any V. R. stamps.
envelope containing a lot of stamps—I handed it in the same condition to Inspector Stephens at Stonesend Police-station—no one had been in the cat) after I put down the fare at Leman Street till I found the envelope.
STEPHEN WHITE (Police Sergeant). On 23rd December I received three warrants for the defendants' arrest—about 5.30 p.m. I saw Benjamin at 1, Cullum Street—I read one warrant to him—he said, "I expected this for some time; this is trade jealous; I have an answer to it"—he was taken to Leman Street and searched; a large number of stamps were found on him, and two cards (produced)—the stamps and pocket-book were in his pockets—the same night at 10.30 I went to 80, Grove Road, Bow—I read a warrant to Jeffreys—he said, "I have done printing for Benjamin and Sarpy; I used to do it upon this table"—this was in the printing-room upstairs—"I admit I have faked up stamps for Benjamin and. Sarpy, but have not done anything for them for a long time; I have sold my press, and have given up the faking business; I have not defrauded anyone"—he was taken to the station in a cab—Cumner and I were in the cab—he was searched; nothing was found on him relating to the charge—afterwards I went to Stephens, who gave me this envelope—it has Jeffreys' address on it, and the name "Kirk"—I showed it to the prisoners, and said, "This has been found in the cab"—they all denied it belonged to them—Jeffreys said, "I know nothing about it"—next morning the prisoners were brought up before the Magistrate at the Thames Police-court—while waiting Jeffreys said, "I put the envelope and stamps under the seat of the cab; I was foolish to do it, and I am very sorry"—the same day I searched the house, 46, Oval Road, Kennington, occupied by Benjamin and Sarpy—I found a large quantity of stamps; a few are produced—on 29th December I got a search warrant to search 80, Grove Road—I searched early on 30th December—in a coal cellar under the staircase I found two printing presses and three or four lithographic stones—this is one (produced)—it has the impression of stamps upon it—I left the printing presses and the other stones—one was as large as this one, one as large again, and some type cases—all seemed thrown in in a hurry—I found no business books, engraving materials, nor printing ink, nor type, only a case stand in the back kitchen—on 31st December I went with Buhl and Phillips, and a City search warrant to 1, Cullum Street—in a safe I found this book, containing a quantity of stamps, and in the back of the shop, behind the screen, this parcel of stamps (produced)—I put them into this parcel with the cheque-book and other papers—I brought away only those pointed out by Buhl and Phillips—I also found some printers' ink, and two bottles containing acid, one muriatic acid—I did not bring them away, nor the printing presses, but I took possession of some perforating machines—there were a great many stamps besides those taken away—they were stowed in two sacks half full—I did not take them out of the sacks—hundreds were in a frame in the window, and in the safe were thousands—I did not take many out of the window—I found no metal type, but two or three wood blocks, and what looks like a stamp handle.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I did not search Jeffreys till I got him to the station—the presses, one older than the other, could be used for type or stone—one had a kind of bed for a frame or stone—there was some coal in the cellar; not two or three tons—the stone has not been out of my possession except last Saturday, when Sergeant Cumner had it—I heard counsel ask for a print from the stone—I heard you tell the Magistrate in the presence of Phillips that the blue Victorias could not come from that stone—there is a twelve-stamp impression on it—Jeffreys has spoken about the application for the impression—Jeffreys was refused to be allowed to test it—when arrested Jeffreys said there were fakes in every trade.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I did not examine the bottles of acid.
THOMAS CUMNER . On 23rd December, about 8.45 p.m., I arrested Sarpy in St. George's Road, Southwark—I told him I was a police officer, and had a warrant for his arrest—he said, "What for?"—I said, "Attempting to cheat and defraud Her Majesty's subjects, and forging stamps"—he said, "I have been expecting this for some time; this is only spite"—he was taken to the station and searched—upon him were found a large quantity of stamps and documents—they are produced, marked "Sarpy, found on person"—I was present at 1, Cullum Street, on 31st December, 1891, when the search was made—I saw metal blocks and type "stops" to keep the type together, but no type or dies for printing postmarks—I saw this rubber stamp handle—I was also present at 46, Oval Road—"Sydney View" is on the house—I took this stone to Mr. Griffiths, a lithographer, 41, Wych Street—I saw him examine it—I brought it away in the same condition.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. Griffiths did not take an impression—he measured it—Jeffreys was not there.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I saw this notice posted on the wall of the shop at 1, Cullum Street, "Special Notice: I will not be answerable for the genuineness of any stamps bought at this shop unless I give a written guarantee at the time of purchase. By order.—A. Benjamin, 1, Cullum Street, E. C."—this paper was hung on a gaspipe, and partly covered the notice—the pipe was not movable, I believe—when I saw it was on 31st December, three or four days after the prisoners were in custody—the paper was broken and hanging cornerwise—nothing touched it during the search—I was there the whole time—there was only one gaslight in the shop—I measured the shop with tape—the counter is about 9 ft., and there is 2 ft. 6 1/2 in. from the end of the counter; I have not the width.
Re-examined. The special notice was at the end of the counter, furthest from the door.
RUDOLPH MYER (Re-examined). I was a frequenter of this shop for stamps for about four years—I did not see this notice; my attention was drawn to the fact there was such a notice—I went there six months ago.
expert in postage stamps—I was secretary to the Philatelical Society of London for some years; also honorary treasurer—I have been a collector for the past twenty years, and have written a good many papers upon stamps—I assisted in examining the celebrated collection of T. K. Taplin, which he left to the nation, the finest collection in this country, and worth about £30,000—I have examined the stamps produced—the Sandwich Islands postage stamps are bogus; no such design was ever issued—it is a stamp that has been made to defraud people—it is not genuine—the postmarks are forgeries the surcharge enhances the value of stamps sometimes—a postal mark up on a fiscal stamp would enhance its value, and perforating; sometimes rouletting—it would make them rare—perforating was invented about 1864—the 1s. 9d. green Ceylon stamp is a distinct forgery—it purports to have been used—all these twelve produced on this sheet have an obliteration upon them—I could see a great many more in the parcel—the 8d. brown Ceylon is a forgery—the one I have is not used—there is no substantial difference between the forged and the genuine—the unused 9d. stamp is a forgery—the Ceylon 4d. and 2s. are forged—both are unused—the New Zealand Stamps are genuine—I have not yet examined the postmarks—the Ceylon 4d. perforated would be worth about £8; the 8d. one would range from £8 or £9 downwards to 30s., and the 1s. 9d. and 2s. about the same—as they are they are valueless—I have not examined the 18 kreutzer Baden—I find an envelope with a large number of 12 kreutzer Bavarian stamps in the Oval Road portion; that was originally on a 12 kreutzer money order card—it has been converted into an adhesive postage stamp—the postmark on it is a forgery, its value would be some few pounds, in its present condition several shillings—15s. if genuine—I say the same with regard to the other samples, they are valueless in the condition they are—the Sydney Views are very good forgeries, and likely to deceive the postal authorities—I believe they could be used for letters in Australia—they have not been withdrawn, and could be used for postal purposes—there are about 160 Victoria blue 1s. stamps in the Oval Road parcel—I produce samples of the perforated and unperforated—they are forgeries—some are used and some unused—the anna stamps are genuine, but the postmarks are forged, and the surcharges, consisting of the words "Service, Postage" the 8-anna without the surcharge is worth 1d. or 2d„ with it £8 or £9; the 4-anna the same and £6, the 2-anna the same and £2 to £3—I found six used Sydney Views in the envelope left in the cab, 70 to 80 in Oval Road parcel, and two in Cullum Street parcel of 2-annas, one unused in the envelope and one in the Oval Eoad parcel; of the four annas one in the envelope unused, two used in the Oval Road parcel; the 8-annas are unused, and seven or eight used in the Oval Eoad parcel; the Victoria 1s. blue, two unperforated and two perforated, all unused in the envelope; over 100 used unperforated and 60 used perforated in the Oval Road parcel; the 1s. 9d. green Ceylon, three unused in the envelope, and over forty used in the Oval parcel—there were many other false stamps.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I have been an expert ten years—I consider it fair to compare the stamps when gummed on paper—I have heard of hinged mounts for examining stamps—I examined them as I found them in the parcel—some have been gummed on paper since
—I do not recollect seeing the word "Specimen" upon any—I have one here that haw it on the back—sticking them on paper, that would disappear; there are lots without it—I was not called before the Magistrate—I was first asked about the case last Wednesday—I have seen Phillips here; I have not spoken to him, I believe—I. do not see him here now—when I have reprints I have bought them as reprints—Stanley Gibbons' catalogue first introduced them to my notice—Berchdoff stamps can be bought which are not reprints or fac similes.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIS. I have never been a witness to speak to the genuineness of stamps before—I was asked to examine these by Phillip—he is managing director of Stanley Gibbons and Co., Limited, a house dealing largely in stamps of all kinds—he did not tell me he had been told he ought not to come as a witness; nothing of the kind he asked me to give evidence, as Major Evans was unwell—I was asked to go to the Police-court, but said it was inconvenient—I have been familiar with forged stamps ever since I began to collect, over twenty years—I have never seen so many collected before—I have seen a large number of various kinds, and different countries—I have bought them for my own collection—I have had forged stamps without knowing it—nothing like 500—perhaps 50 to 100—forgeries have been in a collection I have bought, but I did not buy for the forgeries—I have known others buy forgeries who have been deceived.
Re-examined. The value of the unused Sydney Views to collectors would be £10—they are very rare—the stamp is not withdrawn, but has ceased to be issued—there has been an improvement in the art of forging stamps during the last twenty years—during the last two or three years they have been at their best—there are fac simile stamps, they have the word "fac simile" on—Major Evans is a member of the Philatelical Society of London—I believe the Sydney View could be used to-day in New South Wales and Victoria for postal purposes.
DOUGLAS GARTH . I am President of the Philatelical Society, and am a solicitor—I have had considerable experience in stamps—there is no genuine trade done in forgeries—I have seen some of these stamps, and have heard Mr. Bacon's evidence—I perfectly agree with the results he has arrived at.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I have collected for fourteen years—I know of Mr. Palmer—I have had nothing to do with him for the last ten years—I saw a great many stamps which he had then, but I never saw his collection—I know the laureated New South Wales halfpenny stamp—there are a great many genuine ones in this country—there are stamps sent over by Mr. Venning—I have not seen any of them in Mr. Phillips' hands—I read the Stamp News and Stanley Gibbons' Monthly Journal occasionally—the stamps sent over by Mr. Venning are not officially issued—those from Mr. Clark which were stolen were obtained by fraud—I have not purchased any of Stanley Gibbons and Co.—I never knew that they sent them to Australia with a view to their being used there postally—I know Peffenden and Wilson as dealers; they used to issue a monthly list; there is a paper which they called The Record, edited by Major Evans—for all I know, stamps were advertised which were reprints, without disclosing the fact that they were reprints.
Victorian stamps; they appear to be impressions from the stone; the back ground lines are identical, and there are other technicalities of the trade which enable me to speak confidently—I compared two very small points in the stamps with the stone, and found identical marks—my opinion was taken, and I advised that further impressions should be taken from the stone.
Cross-examined by MR. JONES. I saw it on Monday at my office, and examined it with a magnifying-glass—the flaw is a very small matter; you will find a very small indent in the background just at the top of the forehead, on the second stamp on the left on the stone, the second row, on the forehead—I also And the lines on the background correspond in number—I do not detect any register marks, the stone is too dirty, it would require to be cleaned—the stamps on the stone are not very much closer than those on the paper, they register exactly, that was one of the tests I applied—the bottom row on the stone and the bottom row of the stamps correspond exactly—if the stone had been cut in half they could have tried to pull a proof of one half, leaving the other half intact—I was not asked to do that.
STEPHEN WHITE (Re-examined). I found a number of letters at Sydney View Villa, which I have produced—I found both these letters on Benjamin: "Henry Grimold, Esq.,—Enclosed are the four Bermuda 3d. and 1d. that I bought of you some time since, and which are pronounced by Major Evans and others to be a false surcharge. Please return me the £101 paid for them, and oblige—Yours truly.—"Henry Grimold, Esq., Dear Sir,—I received your postal-card, but I decline to exchange any more with you, as I would not deal with any man who is not honest. I enclose a letter received to-day, and also eighteen of your guaranteed surcharges. The British Guiana, I believe, are also bad. Now I owed you about thirteen dollars, and will square that amount, and as soon as I can get the balance of the Bermudas I will also return them. I have had more trouble about these counterfeits than anything, &c.—Yours truly, Reynolds. "This (produced) is one of the documents I found at Cullum Street. (This named a number of stamps in the writer's possession.)
MR. JONES submitted that the Counts relating to forgery were bad, at they disclosed no offence, a postage stamp not being a writing as alleged; that the foreign stamps were not more than labels. As to the Sandwich Islands stamp, it was proved that no such stamp ever existed, and therefore it could not be counterfeited, and that it was no more forgery to copy such a stamp than it would be to copy a patent medicine stamp or the label on a reel of cotton.
MR. WILLIS also submitted that the offence was not one at common law; (he question was whether any of the stamps produced was a document or instrument in writing. Some of these stamps had been actually used, so that there was no intention of injuring the person who originally used them. The Sydney View stamp being no longer in use, did not constitute a contract between that country and the Postmaster-General, and therefore the first twenty-three Counts could not be sustained. (Cases referred to, Reg. v. Gloss, 7 Cox, p. 494; Reg. v. John Smith, 8 C ox, p. 586; and Reg. v. Gordon 11 Cox, p. 672.)
MR. MATHEWS contended that the Counts were good; Blackstone's definition of forgery teas "the altering of a writing to the prejudice of another man's right" (East's, "the counterfeiting any writing with a fraudulent intent,
whereby another may be prejudiced"; also, "the false making of any written instrument for the purpose of fraud and deceit, is a forgery" In this case the writing consisted of the sketches from which the Sandwich Island plates were engraved, and of the letters and effigies on the counterfeit stamps. (Cases referred to, Reg. v. Fossett, East's Pleas of the Crown, 862; Reg. v. Harris, Moody's Crown Cases, 393; Reg. v. Tosackf and Dennison 179; Reg. v. Sharman, Dearsley's Crown Cases, 285; Reg. v. Howley) Lee and Cave, 159. Reg. v. Dugdale, and Stevens' Digest 302.
MR. WILLIS was heard in reply.
The RECORDER considered that the Counts 1 to 23 and Count 26 had failed in proof, as the stamps in question were not instruments in writing, and left the other five Counts to the JURY, as follows: 1. Was there an agreement to bring stamps into existence for the purpose of defrauding the public? 2. Was there an agreement to alter stamps? 3. Did the prisoners procure the stamps for the like purpose? 4. Did Benjamin and Sarpy obtain money from Bright by false pretences? The JURY answered these questions in the affirmative, and a verdict of
GUILTY was entered on these five Counts.
The prisoners received a good character.
JEFFREYS and BENJAMIN— Six Months' Hard Labour each;
SARPY— Four Months' Hard Labour.
The prisoners were again indicted for forging and uttering a receipt for one shilling blue Victorian stamp, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday and Saturday, March 11th, and 12th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
378. MAX BRENNER (49) , Unlawfully conspiring with George Leach and others to induce Annie Smith, wife of George Bailey Smith, to take George Leach into his employment as barman. Other Counts, for conspiring with other persons with a like intent.
MESSRS. BESLEY and TRAVERS BUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
MATHEW MORLEY . I live at 24, Merton Road, Kensington—I have no occupation at present—I was a coachman in the same service for thirty years—I have known the prisoner for eight or nine years—about two years ago I believe he was living at Norwood, and in the coal trade—I also knew him at another time as a hatter and hosier—in March, 1890, he came to me about taking the license of the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, Clerkenwell, in my name for him, as he was going to take a larger house—he asked me to go to the brewery and sign the papers for the license; I agreed to that, and the license was transferred into my name, and I am the licensed holder of that house—I did not see
the prisoner for twelve months after I signed the license—I never took possession of the house—the prisoner had had it some time before he came to me—I went there a few times at the beginning to see the prisoner, and then I did not go nor see him for over twelve months—I had nothing whatever to do with the conduct of the house—I have seen the prisoner's wife and daughter there assisting in the business before and after I took the license—I have never seen a barman in the house—I never authorized the prisoner to use my name in any way, or to give any character in my name, or to engage barmen.
Cross-examined. I know nothing about the licensed victualler's trade—I did not put any money into this house—I do not know that the prisoner put £450 into it, or what he put in—I know that since this prosecution he is ruined; the brewers have come in—I never heard of a Barmen's Union, nor that they used to meet at this house, until this case; I have since—I have known the prisoner eight or nine years, not twenty—I knew him as a highly respectable man—I came here through Mr. Child, the solicitor for the prosecution; he did not subpoena me—I do not complain of anything that has been done; I have nothing to do with it—I do not know that different licenses are frequently ht id by the same person; I have heard that you can hold a license for anyone—I never interfered, and never received a shilling—I lent the prisoner my name, neither paying or receiving anything—it was a properly conducted house as far as I saw—I found him and his wife and daughter attending to the business; the daughter is eleven years of age; he has nine children—I have been to the house four or five times—I went there first in the first part of 1890, and I have been there ten or twelve times between then and now—sometimes I have stopped and dined there.
Re-examined. I heard the prisoner's friends talking about the Barmen's Union, at Clerkenwell; beyond that I know nothing about it—the prisoner's eldest child would be about eleven, as far as I know—I cannot tell their ages.
ALLEN FIELD CAUDWELL . I keep the Crown and Sceptre, Streatham Hill—on 24th March, 1891, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, and I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, about four o'clock the same day—I saw the prisoner behind the bar; I asked to see William Woods, in answer to the advertisement—the prisoner told me it was his rest time, and he would be back about five o'clock, he thought—although after these proceedings were taken I knew his name was Lee, all this matter was in reference to a barman named Woods—I said to the prisoner, "I have come about Woods' character"—he gave him a good character as sober, honest, and industrious; he said he was leaving him that afternoon, and he suggested that Woods should come and see me in the evening—he said Woods had been at the Old Cheshire Cheese for nine months—I think he said he was leaving for a change—Woods came to Streatham Hill, and my father saw him, and he came to us next day—he remained about five weeks, and then left through getting tipsy.
Cross-examined. I held the house; my father as a rule engaged the servants; he took an active part in the business—although the house was in my name, he was really the manager; in the same way as with Mr. Morley and the prisoner, the license was in one name, and the business was carried on by another person—I was subpœnaed to attend here; I
do not attend of my own free will—I belong to the Licensed Victuallers' Association—I found Woods was a good barman, and knew his work—he had a weakness for drink, beyond that I had nothing to complain of; he was thoroughly reliable, and gave us satisfaction if I were asked to give him a character, I could say he was honest and industrious, but not sober, and that is probably the character I should give him.
Re-examined. I should not say he had been nine months with us, and take live pounds for it—it was a recognisance paper I had to come here, which I spoke of as a subpoena.
CHARLES ARROW SOUTHCOMBE . I am the son of Mrs. Southcombe, the licensed holder of the Northumberland, Northumberland Avenue, Charing Cross—early in September I advertised for a barman—a man calling himself Henry Lee came in answer—I had a conversation with him, and in consequence went to the Old Cheshire Cheese public-house—I asked a woman whom I saw behind the bar for Mr. Morley—afterwards the prisoner came in and said he was Morley—I told him I had called after the reference of Henry Lee, a barman whom I believed he had had in his employment—he said yes, he had been in his employment for nine months—I asked him if he was honest, sober, and industrious—he said yes, he was a very honest, hardworking young fellow—I believe he said Lee had left because there was not sufficient work for him to do—I said I would take him on that reference—Lee came into our service and stayed about ten days—I discharged him because he got drunk.
Cross-examined. I paid his wages—I was about three days in attendance at the Police-court—I was not called as a witness—I am not now a member of the Licensed Victuallers' Association—I went to the Police-court of my own accord—Mr. Child asked me to go, and took my proof, and I think I told him that the prisoner said Lee had been in his service about nine months.
JOHN CHILD . I and my brother are solicitors to. the Licensed Victuallers' Protection Society—I conducted this prosecution at the Police-court, where we were three days over it—the last witness was there, but I did not call him, as the Magistrate refused to receive any further witnesses; he had enough evidence, and committed the prisoner—I supplied to the prisoner a copy of the proofs of the persons not called at the Police-court—I took down Southcombe's statement—I asked him how long the prisoner said Lee had been living there, and he said, "I think nine months"—this is the original of the statement made by him.
Cross-examined. This copy was written by one of our clerks, and was supplied by us to the solicitor for the defence—it purports to be the substance of the evidence—I did not know that the exact length of time persons were alleged to have been in the service was most material—I cannot tell you how the nine months has come to be "several" months in your copy—I have not advertised in the Morning Advertiser, in reference to this case, asking for witnesses, nor have advertisements been inserted with my knowledge.
GEORGE TULLY . In November last I was manager to Mr. Watts, of the Bush Hotel, Shepherd's Bush—on 11th November, Breese, who is in custody, came and spoke to me, and in consequence I went the same day to the Old Cheshire Cheese—I saw a female behind the bar, and had a conversation with her. (MR. GEOGHEGAN objected to this conversation being given in evidence.
MR. BESLEY contended that it was admissible, for
the reason that the indictment alleged that Breese was a co-conspirator with the prisoner, and therefore whatever Breese said was evidence against the prisoner.
MR. GEOGHEGAN in reply argued that upon this indictment, in which Breese was not included, the evidence was not admissible; although upon another indictment, which charged Breese and Brenner together with conspiracy, it might he admissible. The COMMON SERJEANT, after consulting MR. JUSTICE A. L. SMITH, ruled that the fact that there was another indictment against Breese and Brenner was immaterial, and that the general rule as to the evidence of a co-conspirator being admissible applied, and was not altered by the fact of there being another indictment)—when I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese Breese was outside the bar, in another compartment to the one I was in when I spoke to the. woman; he could not hear what passed between me and her—afterwards I said to Breese, "I have asked this lady respecting your reference, and it is satisfactory; she says you have been here eleven months"—I told him she gave him the reference for being honest and sober, and that I should give Mr. Watts her statement—Watts wrote, and next day, 12th November, Breese came—he stayed till the 26th—after he left stock was taken, and the result was not satisfactory.
Cross-examined. I did not take stock, and do not know about it of my own knowledge—Mr. Watts, who told me about it, is not here—Breese gave Mr. Watts a week's notice and left of his own accord—he complained once of his food—we have four persons in our service employed behind the bar, two barmen and two barmaids; Breese was included in the two.
EDMUND JOHN WALLACE . I was not examined at the Police-court—I keep the White Swan, Farringdon Street—about 3rd December, 1891, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser of a barman wanting a situation—I wrote, and next morning Henry Lee called on me at the Spread Eagle, Oxford Street, which was at that time my father's house—I asked where his last situation had been—he said he had been engaged at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, for nine months—I asked him if he had been used to early rising—he said, "Yes"—I told him I opened at 5 a.m.—he said his employer had been Mr. Morley, and that lie left to better himself—I said I would see Mr. Morley, and engage him if it was satisfactory—I went the same evening to the Old Cheshire Cheese, where I saw the prisoner and his wife and little girl—I first saw the potman, who took me to the private-bar; there I saw the prisoner's wife, and asked her if the governor was in, and she said, "No'—he was behind the bar at the time—I told her what I had come for, and asked her how long Henry Lee had been with them, and she said for nine months—I asked if he was honest, straightforward, and of sober habits, and she said "Yes"—I asked why he was leaving; she said to better himself; in fact, they were very sorry to lose him—I came away—I wrote to Lee, who came to Oxford Street next day, and I engaged him to start work on 10th December, at the White Swan, Farringdon Street—I started there on that day between nine and ten p.m.—a friend of mine made a communication to me, in consequence of which I kept an eye on Lee—on Christmas-eve I saw him deliberately take some money off the counter and bounce it from his right hand into his left and from his left into his left-hand coat pocket—I cannot say whether a shilling or coppers—he was the worse for liquor one evening; he said it was
illness, that he had a bad throat; I am certain he was the worse for drink—at eight on the morning of 28th December he came up to my bedroom for change for use in the bar—I gave him £2 in silver for the gold he brought me—when I went downstairs a few minutes afterwards he had gone—he had not taken the money with him; he had left that in the bar—I had to go out in the afternoon, and when I name back I was told he had called for his boxes, and had left word that lie would call and see me in the evening or morning—he never returned—he never called for his wages—after he left I noticed that the spirits did not require filling up so often—where I used to have to fill them up every two days, I only had to fill them up twice a week—since he left there has been a slight improvement in my takings, and I have not used quite so much stuff.
Cross-examined. I had just taken this house when he came into my service—when customers come to a new house we sometimes give them a drink for nothing; I always pay for it out of my own pocket—that does not go on for long—there is some difference in the comparison of the spirits and the takings for the first two or three weeks—all the conversation I had about Lee was with Mrs. Brenner—the prisoner was at the other end of the bar; I believe he knew what I had come for, and got out of the way for the purpose; I cannot say if he heard—when people bounce money to try if it is good they do not put it in their pockets—I did not call in the police—I told Lee to behave himself—I have no rule about barmen putting money anywhere—it was on the 21st—I did not discharge him on the 22nd, because we were very busy—I did not discharge him—it was Christmas time when I saw him drunk—Christmas time was foggy; sometimes our takings are better in foggy weather when I gave Lee the £2 in silver, the barmaid had just come down into the bar; he put the £2 at the back of the bar for change and left it there—he came back afterwards for his boxes—T owed him about seven shillings for half a week's wages; he never got that—I should pay that seven shillings as soon as I saw him.
Re-examined. When I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese I asked for "the governor, as I had forgotten the name of Morley—the prisoner was about as far from his wife as I am from you when she answered that question—I hardly spoke as loud then as I do now perhaps—she said the governor was not in—when we treat old customers at a new house we pay ourselves, so that the coins should be there to compare with the measurements of the stuff.
ROBERT WILLIAM WAY . I am a licensed victualler, of the White Hart public-house, Lower Clapton—on 11th January, 1882, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, which I answered—Henry Lee called on me, and said he had been twelve months in Mr. Morley's employment, of the Old Cheshire Cheese, Clerk en well—I made arrangements with him to go and see Morley that evening about seven—I went and saw the prisoner behind the bar at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant—I said, "Mr. Morley?"—he said, "Yes"—I told him that Lee had referred me to him for a reference, and said that he had been in his employment for about twelve months, and I asked him whether he was honest, sober, and up to his business—he said, "Oh, yes; he was a very good man indeed, and ho had only left because he could not keep him; and he had left to better himself"—next day, between three and
four p.m., Lee came into my service, and at nine o'clock that evening he was drunk—I sent for the police and had him ejected—during the time he was there he was a good part of the time alone in the bar—directly he had gone I missed two bottles of gin; one pound of tobacco, fifty cigars, and a set of billiard balls from a drawer behind the bar—I gave information to the police directly.
Cross-examined. The police did not catch him by the arm or neck; they said, "Outside"—I was present when they ejected him.
WILLIAM BISHOP . I keep the Rising Sun, East Street, Walworth—on 11th December, 1891, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, and wrote to the initials given to Bear Yard, Lincoln's inn Fields—the next morning, Diprose (whom I afterwards saw at the Police-court, and who was committed for trial) came—I asked him where he had been been living, he said at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, with Mr. Morley, for nine months, and that his cause of leaving was through his having an abscess under his arm—he said he had left about three weeks before—I asked him if Mr. Morley would give him a good character, and he said, "Yes,"—I told him to make arrangements with Morley to meet me at three that afternoon—when I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese I saw Breese behind the bar—I saw nothing of the prisoner—there was a customer at the bar—I asked Breese if his name was Morley; he said, "Yes"—I asked him if he had a young man named Diprose who had lived with him, and for how long—he said he had been living with him for nine months—I asked if he was honest, straightforward, and trustworthy—he said, "Yes," and that he had left three weeks before through illness—he advised me to take him into my employment; that he should have no hesitation in recommending him—I returned home, and wrote to Diprose, telling him to come on Saturday at 10.30 a. m—he came there; that was about 14th December—I told him my rule was not to let my young men have money about them when they were behind the bar serving; he did not seem to like that altogether, and my suspicions were aroused; when he went to the till he would cast his eyes round to see if anyone was watching him—I kept my eyes on him—he left at a little after 3.30 p.m. on the Sunday—he told my other young man, on the Saturday night, that the place was too hard work for him, he was going to leave—he was only there one day—he had no wages, and did not come for them; I saw no more of him till I saw him at the police-court in the dock.
Cross-examined. I never saw the prisoner—Diprose knew how to serve customers—our trade is rather heavy on one or two days a week—I told Diprose not to come if he thought he was not capable of taking the situation—he said he was used to hard work, and that he had left through an abscess under his arm, but that he could pull with his right as well as his left.
ROBERT FRANCIS LEWIS BAUGHAN . I am the licensed holder of the Duchess of Clarence, Vauxhall Bridge Road—about the middle of December, 1891, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, and wrote a letter—Breese called on me—I asked him where he had been living—he said with Mr. Morley, at the Old Cheshire Cheese, for nine months—I asked him if his references were all right—he said, "Yes"; he said he tad left through illness—I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese the same afternoon, I think—I saw someone behind the bar, it was not the
prisoner, I did not see him at all—in consequence of what the man behind the bar told me, I took Breese into my employment on the Monday afternoon—I sent him away on the Wednesday morning about nine o'clock.
Cross-examined. I sent him away because I did not like his appearance—I had no complaint to make against him—I gave him a sovereign when I discharged him.
FERDINAND REMY . I keep the White Bear' public-house, Brunswick Street, Oxford Street—on 18th December I was in want of a barman—Diprose called on me in answer to a letter I wrote after seeing an advertisement—he said he had been in Mr. Morley's service at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant—he wrote down the address on a piece of paper, which I did not keep—he asked me what time I would be at Mr. Morley's place—I said, "It does not matter to you"—he said, "Yes; I want to be there"—I said, "Very well; at half-past six this evening, I will go to ask for a reference"—I went there at that time, and saw Diprose behind the bar—I asked for Mr. Morley, and the prisoner said, "That is me"—I said, "I want to know what you know about Mr. Diprose as a barman; about his honesty and so on"—he said he was honest, straightforward, and I could rely on him; he said he was especially good when there was a row in the house to put the people outside, and that I should find him a good barman—he told me that Diprose had been in his service for nine months, and left three weeks ago, through illness, an abscess under his arm—in consequence of that character I took Diprose into my service—he came the next morning, Saturday, 18th or 19th December, about ten o'clock, and stayed for six weeks, till 5th February, when Detective Williamson came, and two or three hours afterwards Diprose said he was ill, and wanted to go home—I said he had better go upstairs, as I wanted him next morning, Saturday, a busy day—he went upstairs to rest—next morning I called in his room, and asked how he was, and he said he was better, and he would help me on that day—after he left my receipts showed £3 or £4 a week better: while he was in my service all the takings were about £29, and now I have the same takings as before I had him; they are £34 or £35; they are £3 or £4 a week better now.
Cross-examined. I had been in the house about two months—Diprose was my third barman; I had discharged the first one because he was not old enough; the second left because another servant made a report against him, and he was not pleased with it—the first was in the house when I took it—Diprose showed me a medical certificate; I did not read it; I could have done so if I had liked—he told me the doctor said he was suffering from inflammation of the kidneys—I did not find anything wrong while he was with me—since he left my takings are going up—my house is simply a public-house—I don't know that the business is increasing, but the takings are; I don't see more customers than I did before—I do not take more beer and spirits than I used to, but my cash is better—I have the same brewers as the old tenant had.
Re-examined. I get more cash now out of the same amount of beer and spirit.
put an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser for a barman, and Breese called that afternoon—I said, "Where was your last house?"—he said, "The Old Cheshire Cheese"—I said, "Who is the proprietor?"—he said, "Mr. Morley"—I said, "How long were you there?"—he said, "Nine months"—I said, "What wages?"—he said, "Sixteen shillings"—I said, "Well, you go back and tell Mr. Morley I will call there between six and seven in the evening"—he said he had left through the bronchitis—I called there between three and four the same day—I saw Breese in the customer's part of the house—Mrs. Morley, I was given to understand, was behind the bar—I asked for Mr. Morley, and the prisoner came up—I said, "Are you Morley?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I have called in reference to a character for Breese; is he all right?"—he said, "Yes; you will find him in every way a straight forward, honest man"—on those conditions I engaged Breese, who came into my service on Sunday night, 27th-about five a.m. of the 28th I saw him drunk—we open at two a.m. for the press—at just after eight I sent him to bed; he was the worse for liquor—we close at 12.30; we are only closed for twelve hours a week—we have a double staff of servants, and Breese had not been serving overnight—the same evening he was drunk again—on Tuesday morning, 29th, I discharged him.
Cross-examined. I had only just moved into the White Swan—there was a bed in the house for a barman—I don't believe Breese went to bed that night, but it was his own fault; I think he slept in a chair in the kitchen—he went on duty at nine on the Sunday evening—the house was closed at eleven and opened at. two on Monday morning, and the barmen have to be there at a quarter to two—my wife paid his wages—I asked him if ever he had been in an early-opening house before—he said he had been two years with Mr. Rayner, at the Yarmouth Arms, in Thames Street; that is where the Billingsgate people go—Breese told me he had cut his finger—I may have told Morley that Breese had left his wages behind—three chairs in front of the kitchen fire was not the only place he could have slept.
JOHN EDWARD BERRY . I keep the Haberdashers' Arms, Pitfield Street, Hoxton—in February, 1891, I saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser, and wrote to the address given—Lee called on me; he referred me to Mr. Morley, of the Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, as the place where he was last employed—I went there the same day—I asked a lady behind the bar for Mr. Morley—she went out, and in a moment or two the prisoner Came out from the bar-parlour—I said I had been referred by Henry Lee for his reference, and asked him if he found him honest and sober, and up to his work, and the reason he left—he told me he had left because he and the potman could not agree; that he had been there about seven or eight months—in answer to my questions as to his sobriety and honesty, he said, "Yes"—I don't think I asked him how long before he had left, but I was under the impression that he had just left—Lee came into my service on the Friday before 14th February, stayed five days, and left on Wednesday, 14th, for being drunk, and using obscene language and insulting the customers—my wife ordered him out of the bar—there was no other complaint of him—he put on his hat and coat and went away, and the next morning he came, and I paid him for the time he was in my service.
Cross-examined. He obeyed my wife, and left the bar.
HENRY BACON . I keep a public-house at 29, King's Cross Road—the first week in January, 1892, George Leach came to me, and said he had been living at the Cheshire Cheese for twelve months, with Mr. Brenner—I went there, and saw his wife, and the prisoner came out and said Leach was all right; that he was a very good fellow; honest, sober, industrious, and that kind of thing, and had lived there twelve months—on the strength of that character I engaged Leach as my barman—he came into my service on 5th or 6th January, and stayed about a month, till 8th February, the day on which the prisoners, Breese and Diprose, were arrested; he left on that day, and I have not seen him since—he left nothing behind him; he had nothing there—the day before he went the takings were about £2 short.
Cross-examined. This is my own house—I am not sure about the date, but the day after Leach, left, the three men were brought up at the Police-court—Leach told me he had been living at the Iron Bridge Tavern for a few days.
Re-examined. I did not go to the Iron Bridge Tavern, because it is five or six miles off—Leach referred me to the prisoner for his character.
RICHARD SEALMAN . am manager to Mrs. Bromham, of the Latimer Arms, Norland Road, Notting Hill—on 18th January, 1892,1 saw an advertisement in the Morning Advertiser—I wrote, and Henry Lee called, and next day I went to the Old Cheshire Cheese—a girl was behind the bar—I inquired for Mr. Morley, and the prisoner, who had been sitting in the front part of the bar, opened the flap and went behind the bar—I said I had called from Mrs. Bromham, of the Latimer Arms, for a reference for Henry Lee—the prisoner gave me a good reference, said he had had him there for about eleven months; that he was sober, straightforward and honest; and that he had left about a fortnight before because he was not getting sufficient wages—I afterwards told Lee what Morley had said, and that he could commence his duties at the Latimer Arms on the next day—next day, Wednesday, 19th January, Lee came—next evening, or the evening after that, I noticed the takings were at least £2 short—during that time he had been the only person in the bar besides myself—he was there two days altogether, and he left on the Friday morning—after he left, Butcher and another customer made a statement to me about him—I saw Butcher and Stokes in the house while Lee was serving.
Cross-examined. The takings fluctuate a great deal during the week; Saturday and Monday are the best evenings, and sometimes Wednesday and Thursday are the worst; sometimes we are busy on Wednesday and Thursday, and sometimes not—I say the takings were short by taking the average during the year—every day the takings are booked—on one Thursday we might take more than on another—all I can say is that on this Thursday our takings were about £2 less than I expected them to be.
THOMAS BUTCHER . I live at 7, Stebbing Street, Notting Hill, and am a plasterer—I use the Latimer Arms—on Thursday, 21st January, I was in the bar for five or six hours—I saw the barman put in his pocket all the money he took—twelve or more customers paid him money; I should say he put twelve sums altogether into his pocket—he was left alone for some time—the same evening, at ten o'clock, I and my wife went into the public-house and had a half-quartern of rum between us,
which came to 2 1/2 d.—I tendered a florin, which the barman put in his pocket—I cannot Bay where he took the change from which he gave us—next day I went in and the barman was gone.
Cross-examined. I went into the house at eight a.m. and stayed six hours or more—I was not drinking all that time; it is a house of call, and I was waiting for employment—I had some refreshment—all the silver the barman took went into his pocket—I thought it rather strange, but I did not take notice of it then; I told my wife—I saw Sealman that night; I did not tell him; I did not think anything about it—on the Friday, I think, I told him, when he asked me if I had seen anything wrong, and then it flashed across me that I had seen the prisoner put money into his pocket—John Stokes was with me part of the time—afterwards he spoke to me about it; we did not say anything at the time—we were drinking together—I nudged him and said, "Look here."
Re-examined. I go there to look for employment—I was sober—when I was asked by Mr. Sealman the next day I made the same statement as I have to-day.
JOHN STOKES . I am a gardener, of 35, Bangor Street, Notting Hill—on 21st January I was in the Latimer Arms—lee was serving by himself—he purloined four sixpences and three shillings, and gave change, and put the silver in his left-hand waistcoat pocket—that was about 6.15 or seven—no one else was serving in the bar.
Cross-examined. I was in the. public bar, the middle compartment—I went in after my day's work—we come down there at night to stay for some time—there were several men in the same compartment as I was in—I knew two of them; one is a carman—I could not tell you the name of the other one—I have seen him since in the public-house, not elsewhere; I have been in the house before—as a rule, money is put in the slot and the bell rings—I never saw barmen at other public-houses put money in their pockets—when I saw, I said to the man beside me, "He is hopping the twig."
Re-examined. Butcher was there when I was there.
WILLIAM WILLIAMSON (Police Sergeant). I was at Southwark Policecourt in March, 1891, when Lee was before a Magistrate there—I saw the prisoner there; I knew him as Matthew Money; he signed "M. Money, 61, Mount Pleasant" in the clerk's book there in the office—61, Mount Pleasant, is the Old Cheshire Cheese—the prisoner was sitting in Court at Lee's trial; was one of his bail—Lee was found guilty of felony—this is the certificate—I have known Lee about eighteen months—I have not seen him in any situation during that time—I knew the prisoner about a month before that, I suppose—during the past seven or eight months I have been to the Cheshire Cheese several times—I never saw a barman serving behind the bar—the prisoner was assisted by his wife and daughter each time I visited the house—I have been endeavouring to take Lee into custody, and have been unable to do so—Lee came in shortly after I took the prisoner in custody at the Old Cheshire Cheese, on 9th February—the Sergeant read the warrant to the prisoner—Lee said, "You dont wan't me, governor; I have only had two briefs" (meaning characters) "from that man"—I said, "Where were they for?"—Lee said, "One for the Crown and Sceptre, Streatham Hill, and one for the Latimer Arms, Shepherd's Bush"—at that time
we had no warrant for Lee—I have known Breese about five years—I have never seen him at the Cheshire Cheese—last Derby week he was serving behind Mitchell's booth at Epsom—I did not know Diprose till his arrest.
Cross-examined. Bookmakers' and railway tickets are also called briefs—I cannot say whether brief means a written character—I was present when Nolan arrested the prisoner—he said we could both go to a rather unpleasant place, because he could give as many characters as he chose—since this case the brewers have come into the house—I do not know that he has lost £450—the house has been opened within the last few weeks—I had a reason for going to the house several times within the eight months as a customer.
JOHN NOLAN (Detective Sergeant). On 9th February I arrested the prisoner at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant—I said, "Mr. Morley?"—he said, "Yes, that is my name"—I read the warrant to him, and he said, "My name is not Morley, it is Max Brenner"—the warrant was for Morley and Breese—he said, "Breese has been in employment for about four months on and off; I can give as many b——characters as I like; I have had advice on the matter, and I don't care a b——for anyone"—I conveyed him to the Police-station, where he was detained, and charged next morning—he made no reply to the charge—I have been to the Cheshire Cheese three or four times a week within the last seven months—I have never seen a barman behind the bar—on the morning I arrested the prisoner Lee came there and just went behind the bar—I never saw him there before that—I have only known Breese since his arrest—I never saw him at the Cheshire Cheese as barman—I never saw Diprose or Leach there.
FREDERICK EMMERSON . I have been a traveller; I am out of employment—about two months before Christmas I went to the Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant—I saw the prisoner there—he was introduced to me as Morley by a man named Western, who was in company with Breese—I have been there several times—I have seen Diprose, and Morgan, a barman, and Pickett or Davis on the customers' side of the bar—on the third or fourth time of my going there the prisoner asked me if I wanted a reference—he said his charge was £5 for a brief, and that was little enough; that means a false reference—I said, "I don't want a reference; if I did I would not have one from a man like you, who are giving so many"—he asked me if I knew the Iron Bridge Tavern—I said, "Yes, it is a very busy house, a very good house"—he said, "I am glad of that; I have given the Jew boy a reference to go there. Do you know him?"—I said, "No; I do not know the Jew boy"—he said, "I am glad it is a good house; I hope he will pay me now, he has not paid me before; I have given him two or three references"—on one occasion when I was there he asked me if I knew Breese—I can hardly say I said I did not know him, because I was introduced to Breese and the prisoner on the same day—later on, when I was there, he said, "Do you. know anything of Breese?"—I said, "No"—he said. "I have given him two references, and I have no money from him; I have had some stuff from Shepherd's Bush. He has been at the Duchess of Clarence, he has only stopped there a day or so; I don't think I shall give him another reference"—when he asked me whether I wanted a brief I concluded it was for a barman's situation; I was associated there with three or four barmen, and they
were all wanting false references, and he was evidently under the impression that I wanted one—I have been convicted four times—I volunteered that at the Police-court—I am subpœnaed here—I was convicted once for assault, twice for larceny, and once for giving a false reference.
Cross-examined. I am unwilling to appear in Court—I should not have come here nor to the Police-court unless I had been compelled—I swore the information before the Magistrate; I did not at that time understand that I should be compelled to appear in Court—I went with Williamson and Nolan to swear the information of my own free will—I thought then I should not have to go into the witness-box afterwards—I suggested that the prisoner would get into trouble, he was giving so many references—I was not shocked and horrified; I was not willing to take a false reference if he gave it; I should lay myself open always to a lot of thieves, as he was, all day long, if I took it—I was fined £40 for giving two false references; that was six or seven years ago—I have been at work since then—I had just come out of prison when I gave information at the Police-court—I slept then and do now at a private hotel in Stamford Street, where I pay one and sixpence for a bed—I have not paid for it out of money given me by the prosecution, but out of money received from my friends—I have had twenty-five shillings, I think, from the prosecution; I should be very glad to get more—I have not given my right name to-day.
Re-examined. When I went to the Police-court I saw Mr. Remy, Mrs. Annie Smith from the Iron "Bridge Tavern, Mr. Trump, Mr. Baughan, Williamson and Nolan—what I stated there was read to me; it was true—after I swore the information I received a summons to attend as a witness, and I did not attend to it, and the police told me that unless I did attend it a warrant would be issued for my apprehension—before I went and swore the information I went and made a communication to a gentleman connected with the Protection Society.
EDWARD CAMPBELL HEARN , L.R.C.P. and L.R.C.S. Edinburgh.—I live at 413, East India Dock Road—I saw Mrs. Annie Smith, of the Iron Bridge Tavern, East India Dock Road, this morning in her sitting-room—she has got a cold, and is not able to travel without danger to her health—she had a temperature of 101 about five or six o'clock, and I ordered her to bed to-day—her temperature is all right to-day, but she is not at all well—it would be dangerous to her life to come here to give evidence.
Cross-examined. She has a feverish cold; she is about 40, I think.
JOHN CHILD (Re-examined). I was present when Mrs. Smith was examined and cross-examined by Mr. Watts, as representing the prisoner, at the Police-court—I saw her sign her depositions after they were read. (The deposition of Annie Smith was then read as follows: " I am the wife of George Bailey Smith, licensed victualler, of the Iron Bridge Tavern, East India Dock Road. In the beginning of November last we were in want of a barman, and saw an advertisement, signed George Leach, in the Morning Advertiser. In consequence I wrote to an address, and a person calling himself George Leach called on me. I had a conversation with him, and in consequence I went to the Cheshire Cheese the same evening. The prisoner Brenner was behind the bar. I saw no barman in the house. I asked him (Brenner) if he had had a young man named
George Leach in his service for twelve months. He said he had. I asked if he was sober, honest, industrious. The prisoner said, 'Yes, and I recommend him' The prisoner told me his own name was Morley. We took Leach on the prisoner's recommendation. We found him sober and industrious, but I cannot say much for his honesty. He had a lot of followers. He remained with us five weeks, when I discharged him without notice.
Cross-examined. Leach understood his business, and worked well. We keep four barmen."
Witnesses for the Defence.
CHARLES BROWN . I am a cabman, of 48, Bidbury Street—I know the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant—I was manager there for about four months when the prisoner had it; I got 25s. a week, board and lodging; Lee was there a portion of the time I was there; he left, leaving me behind him.
Cross-examined. Acting under the prisoner's instructions I gave Lee a splendid character before the jury at the Sessions—I was his bail that day; I did not know that the prisoner had been his bail previously—after his conviction I entered into surety for him—the judge asked me to be surety—I knew nothing wrong of him then—I had known him for the three months he was there; I had never seen him before that three months—I said what the prisoner told me to say—I gave the address, the Cheshire Cheese; I was manager there—the prisoner's family were too young to do anything in the trade, and his wife had to look after the children—sometimes she assists in the bar—the place does not require two barmen at the same time unless there is a club meeting—I was not there in June; it is more than twelve months since I was there—I do not know Breese, Diprose, or Leach—I only knew Lee for three months—since then I have been driving a cab—I am in Burton Crescent.
Re-examined. I had held the licence of this house—the prisoner was my employer and Lee's employer, and I went as representing the prisoner to give Lee a character—the judge asked me if I would become surety for Lee, and I did; he was bound over, not punished—until that charge I had never heard a word against Lee's character—I was there before Lee came.
WINIFRED EDWARDS . I am married and live at 24, Great Bath Street, near the Old Cheshire Cheese—I have used that house twice a day very often for the last ten months—Leach was a barman or potman there, I believe; from March to September last year, as well as I can remember.
Cross-examined. I know nothing about his being there before March—my husband has not been employed by the prisoner as potman; he is a hairdresser—Leach came to our shop to be shaved two or three times a week—he married the servant at the Old Cheshire Cheese, and he and his wife came to our house; I am not related to him—I know Harry Lee, he has served me at the Cheshire Cheese several times—I dont know where he is now.
Re-examined. I went and got my dinner and supper beer at the Cheshire Cheese—I think I have known Lee there the last eighteen months, on and off, not constantly—I have no interest in the case, I was simply a customer.
the Old Cheshire Cheese—I was a witness before the Labour Commission on behalf of our trade—I have known three or four barmen at the Cheshire Cheese—when I first used the house about Christmas, 1890, the man I knew there was Harry Lee—I have seen Breese doing the potman's and waiter's work there, waiting on the clubs—two clubs used to meet at the house, as far as I know—there was another man, whose name I did not know—I have seen three or four barmen there, on and off, within the last twelve months.
Cross-examined. Our Union was started last October—up to that time I only went as an ordinary customer—I have heard that Lee was wanted on a warrant, and that he had been convicted—I attended at the Police-court as a witness and to watch the case—I said I would give in evidence what I knew—I did not employ Mr. Watts as a solicitor—as near as I can remember Lee was at the house about March; I cannot swear to the exact date; on and off I have seen him there for a very long time—I know he had two or three situations—I know he went to the White Swan, Farringdon Street; I did not know he went to Mr. Ways or to the Latimer Arms—I swear I saw him during those nine months at this place—I don't know if he was barman there before he was taken into custody for ringing the changes—as near as I can tell, he was at work there in March—as I used the house daily he served me continually—I cannot say I saw him there a month at a time—I don't swear Breese was there a whole month—I do not know the Jew boy, nor Diprose.
GEORGE JAMES GLASS . I am a photographic cabinet maker, of 43, Hungerford Road—I used the Old Cheshire Cheese, as a customer, last year and the year before—I had my dinners there between one and two o'clock—I have seen the prisoner, his wife, Brown, and several other barmen and potmen there—I knew Harry acting as barman there; I did not know till lately that his name was Lee—I do not know Leach, Diprose, or Breese—I have no interest in this case.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's wife asked me to come here and tell the truth, on the day he was arrested—I did not go to the Police-court—Mr. Watts did not take my statement—neither the prisoner nor his wife told me that Lee had been convicted; nor that Brown had been surety for him; nor that the prisoner had bailed him out—I knew very little of Lee—I do not pledge myself to any month last year or the year before when I saw him acting as barman—it is hard to say how often I saw him the year before, last.
Re-examined. I have had meals there on and off for two years—I had my dinner there in the bar every day except Saturday and Sunday, and I have seen barmen and barmaids serving behind the bar in that house.
WILLIAM BREESE (in custody) I was employed at the Old Cheshire Cheese, Mount Pleasant, from last June to November as barman, and to do general work as potman, clean windows, scrub the club-rooms—the business has not been good lately—I waited on the rooms—sometimes I served behind the bar—the clubs that met there were the loan society, the Oddfellows, and friendly leads; there were two or three meetings during the week—I had to attend on them—we have had as many as one hundred and twenty people in the concert-room—I went upstairs, and the prisoner and his wife attended to the business down stairs
—Harry Lee was barman there, and Diprose used to come and clean the windows and do cellar work—they were engaged there while I was there—I do not know Leach.
Cross-examined. Leach, Lee, Diprose, and myself were never all at one time employed by the prisoner, or in service together—I got there by a recommendation—I was charged at Lambeth Police-court with stealing 20 lb. of meat; I was very much intoxicated, and it was Christmas-eve, and I took the meat from a butcher's shop and threw it on the pavement; I was given in charge—I was remanded for a week in custody, and then allowed out on bail in £25—I had not got bail and stopped in prison—then they made inquiries, and as my character was good, and I had been known for ten or twelve years in the neighbourhood of the Police-station as a respectable man, who had held a licence of my own, and been manager of four public-houses, the Magistrate said, "I consider it was a drunken freak; get away"—I did not enter into any sureties, not even my own—at the end of May I went to work on Epsom Downs during Epsom week for Messrs. Mitchell at ten shillings a day—between December and June I went as potman and barman to Scates, a friend of mine who had management of a public-house in Lock's, Fields, Rodney Road—early in June I went to the prisoner's place—I did not tell Mr. Tully on 11th November that I had been eleven months in employment—I said seven months—I had left the prisoner about a week before that—I did not go behind the bar, and pretend to be Morley when Mr. Bishop called, that is a deliberate falsehood—I have never given a character in Mr. Morley's house—I have not given a character to Diprose—the witness first said it was the prisoner did so—I went to Mr. Baughan in the middle of December—I did not say to him that I had been nine months in the employment—I was not present when he came and asked for my character—I gave notice to leave the Bush Hotel saying I was going back to the prisoner, and I went back into the prisoner's service—when I was taken on a warrant the officer said, "Bill, I want you on a warrant for obtaining a situation by a false character with a man named Brenner, who calls himself Morley"—I said, "I suppose I must go, but I have worked for the man and I worked hard, and I considered that was the place I should refer to for a reference"—I did not say, to my knowledge, "I did not think I was doing any harm "; but I did not think so.
Re-examined. When I took the 20 lb. of meat I fell down, I was drunk—I did not try to put it under my arm and run away—I said seven mouths to Mr. Bishop, and they have confused seven with eleven—I never knew what it was for a publican to call me inside and suspect me of robbery, and I have been a potman for fifteen years, and held a licence with four managers.
WILLIAM CHARLES DIPROSE . I am a barman—I worked for between eight and nine months at the Old Cheshire Cheese under the prisoner—I nave seen Harry Lee there—a number of clubs meet at that house upstairs—I attended upstairs very seldom; I was more downstairs in the coffee-room—I always did the cellar work, because the barman did not understand it—this is the first time I was ever in Court in my life.
Cross-examined. I went to Mr. Bishop, in answer to a letter, on 11th December—I did not tell him I had been living at the Old Cheshire
Cheese for nine months; I said between eight and nine months—I said I had left through illness about a fortnight before—he said he would call about three—I was not there when he called—I only stayed at Bishop's one day—I afterwards referred to the prisoner to give me a character to Remy—I told Remy I had been with him between eight and nine months—I was with the prisoner from about the beginning of April till about the third week in November—I did not stop in the house; I was there every morning and evening—I was never there in the middle of the day; I did the cellar work in the morning—I went behind the bar—Breese was also there as barman between April and November, and Harry Lee was there; no one else that I know of—they were not there all the time; I have seen them behind the bar occasionally, more often than once a month—I cannot pledge myself to any whole month when Lee was there; I was not there all the time—as far as I know Breese was there all the time from April to October; I do not swear that he was—he was a servant there when I left.
Re-examined. I went in the morning to clean the bar and the pots—I left at 9.30 a.m., and came back in the evening—I don't know who was there in the middle of the day—I had an abscess under my left arm which prevented my doing the rough work, and in consequence I left.
ABRAHAM BURTON JAYNE . I am a licensed victualler, of the Alma Hotel, Upper Norwood—I have known the prisoner since 1865, I think—he has always borne the character of an honest, upright man to the best of my knowledge—I have not heard anything of him since he left my neighbourhood three or four years ago—I got him a loan of £250; he had £200 of his own, and he paid that £450 to go into the Old Cheshire Cheese—he asked my distiller to advance him a loan on the lease of a house he had at Norwood, where he was a hatter and tailor, and through me the distiller lent him the £250—I saw him pay the money.
Cross-examined. He made clothes for me and my children—he had no public-house at Norwood—I went to see him at the Old Cheshire Cheese in 1889—Matthew Morley was the name in small letters over the door—I did not know that the house was in Morley's name till afterwards—I went there a few times in 1890, till he paid me the cash I lent him—he said the first part of the time the business was very good—he did not tell me the business was very bad, that the brewers had a claim against him of several hundred pounds: I have not been there for a long time, and he has not been to me, I think, since he left Norwood.
Re-examined. The house, on the security of which the distillers advanced the money, was a private house at Norwood, which the prisoner had bought for £450—the Cheshire Cheese is closed now—I was fetched up when the prisoner was first arrested—I don't know if the brewers have taken possession.
GUILTY on all the Counts except the 17th, 18th, 21st, and 22nd— Eight Months' Imprisonment. Other indictments charging the prisoner with con spiring with Breese and Diprose were postponed to next Sessions.
379. THOMAS HILLIER, WILLIAM HODGES , and FREDERICK SIMPKIN , Unlawfully conspiring to defraud John Allen of divers of his moneys and property. Other Counts, for conspiring to defraud otherpersons of their moneys; and for obtaining money from various persons by false pretences, with intent to defraud.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and ELDRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. C.F. GILL Defended Hillier; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and ROOTH Defended Hodges; and MR. F. FULTON Defended Simpkin.
During the progress of the case the prisoners expressed, in the hearing of the
JURY, their desire to PLEAD GUILTY to those Counts of the indictment charging them with conspiracy.
Thereupon the JURY found them GUILTY, on the first four Counts, of conspiracy to defraud .— Judgment respited.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
ROSA DAVIS GIBBS . I am single, and live at 189, High Street, Lewisham—on 4th January I drew this cheque for £8 10s. to the credit of Mr. J. W. C. White—I know Mr. White's writing; this endorsement is not in his writing—I put the cheque into an envelope, and addressed it J. W. C. White, Esq., Victoria Station, London, Chatham and Dover Railway, S. W., and gave it to Miss Knight, who called on me that afternoon, to post—receiving no receipt, I wrote to Mr. White, and then received a communication from him, and upon the 14th I wrote to the bank to stop the cheque—they wrote back to mo. enclosing this cheque.
Cross-examined. Between 12th and 14th January I knew this cheque had been lost or misappropriated—I do not know Mr. Lewis Morgan; I have never seen or spoken to him—Mr. Swabrick, my solicitor, is in the office of the London, Chatham and Dover Company.
Re-examined. He has acted for me before in other matters.
HENRIETTA ELIZABETH KNIGHT . I live at Lewisham—on 4th January I saw Miss Gibbs at her house—she gave me a letter to post; I did not notice the address; it was dark—I left her house a little after eight—I posted the letter.
HERBERT HARRINGTON GROVES . I live at 3, Lettis Street, Fulham—I am employed in the solicitor's department of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway Company at Victoria Station—I have known the prisoner by sight for some years—towards the end of the first week in January, to the best of my recollection, I cannot fix the day, I was going out of my office door at Victoria Station, and I saw the prisoner standing at the adjoining private door of the office of Mr. Morgan, the solicitor to the Company—I was going past where he was standing, but I did not wish to speak to him, and I turned to go the other way; he called out to me; I stopped—he came up and said he should like to say a few words to me—I showed him into my office, and we stood talking in front of the fire—Mr. J. W. C. White works in the same office in which I work, and into which I took the prisoner—there is a table there set apart for J. W. C. White—on that table his letters would be placed in the morning in the ordinary course, and would stay there for perhaps one or two days if Mr. White did not come up, and then they would be posted to him—on this
day Mr. White was not up; his table was covered with a duster the whole day; he had been ill for some time—Tonkin appeared to be exhausted and sat down on Mr. White's chair, which was in front of Mr. White's table, for ten or fifteen minutes—to the best of my recollection there were two or three letters on the table, but I won't be positive about it—I did not see him take anything off the table—he could have taken anything off without my seeing him; he was sitting sideways on the chair, so that one elbow would come across the writing-desk on the table, and one arm was resting on the desk, and his hand was playing on the table, or resting on the slope; I was standing in front of the fire looking at right angles to him; so that I should not have noticed particularly what was going on—after ten or fifteen minutes he left, and that was the last I saw of him—if he came to the office in the ordinary way by coming to the ordinary office, his name should have been entered in the call-book.
Cross-examined. I am an admitted solicitor—this is not a prosecution by the Company—the office consists of three rooms, each opening into a corridor; one of the rooms opens into another; but the third has only one entrance—there is a lavatory at the end of the corridor—there is a spiral staircase up to the offices which are on the first floor, and also an ordinary staircase at the other end of the corridor—there are ten clerks and office boys employed altogether, five in one room and five in the other—among the gentlemen who work there is the solicitor for this prosecution—Mr. Morgan has been solicitor to the Company for about six months—he is the head of the office—I have had a good deal to do with him, and know his handwriting very well—these letters (produced) are written by him—Mr. John White, not Mr. J. W. C. White, was Mr. Morgan's predecessor—after he died the pigeon holes and drawers in his office were sealed and red-taped; I presume that was during, a sort of interregnum, before his successor was appointed—I cannot say that it was on account of the insecurity of the office—the prisoner did not tell me he wanted to see Mr. Morgan—I do not think he brought a deed with him—he showed me a judgment summons—he was not altogether a stranger to me—I had seen him before, on business connected with Mr. Morgan—I know he has claimed, during the last week or so, £600 from Mr. Morgan—I do not see Mr. Morgan here—the prisoner says now he claims £600 from Mr. Morgan for money he lent to Mr. Morgan when Mr. Morgan was in a comparatively humble position—I am prepared to swear this was the early part of January—I will not swear it was not 6th January, or before 6th January—I will swear it was not 10th January, because the cheque was shown to me on 15th, and that brought the matter to my mind; not in connection with the prisoner, but on 20th the prisoner's name turned up, and that took me back to the 15th, and the 15th took me back to, roughly, the number of days before it—I think Mr. Swabrick showed me the cheque on 15th—I don't know if the cheque was shown to Mr. Morgan—I believe Mr. Morgan was in his office on the day I saw the prisoner; I don't know whether he was there at the time the prisoner was there. (MR. GEOGHEGAN put in and read a letter from Mr. Morgan to the prisoner, dated 12th January, 1892, which slated that as arranged at their interview that day, he now enclosed cheque for £35 in full discharge of all accounts up to date—
I am prepared to swear positively that it was not on 12th January I saw the prisoner—I was anxious to keep an appointment at the time I met him, and looking at that I remember—my diary is not here—I have no idea when this matter was first mentioned to Mr. Morgan—he has mentioned it to me within the last four weeks; before the prisoner was in custody—I did not see the prisoner at the office after the 8th January—I have no recollection of seeing him there on 6th February—I have identified these three letters in Mr. Morgan's writing—I cannot tell you within a few days when Mr. White first came to his office after this letter was supposed to be taken.
HENRY JAMES GARRETT . I live at 41, Barnsbury Road, Islington, and am employed in the solicitor's office at Victoria Station—I know the prisoner by sight—early in January I saw him in Mr. Groves's office sitting down—I was there when he left.
JOHN CHARLES WHITE . I live at 68, Brecon Road, Brockley, and am employed in the office of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway Company, at Victoria Station—my letters are sent there—I did not receive a letter from Miss Gibbs, enclosing a cheque for £8 10s.—the endorsement on this cheque is not in my writing—from about the beginning to the end of January I was unwell and unable to go to the office, with the exception of one or two days, when I was well enough to go, but I cannot say what days they were—I am acquainted with the prisoner's writing—the endorsement on this cheque for £15 is by him.
Cross-examined. I paid this for accommodation for Mr. Morgan, who wanted to give the prisoner a cheque instead of sending him cash—I have passed one or two accommodation Dills through my bank for Mr. Morgan—I drew this cheque for £15 10s. for Mr. Morgan to send to the prisoner—officials frequently come into the office on business—sometimes they came into my room instead of waiting in the outer office—I have had other cheques from Miss Gibbs before this—I know nothing of a cheque for £35 sent by Mr. Morgan to the prisoner.
EDWIN NEAVE DAVIS . I am manager of the New Cross Branch of the London and South-Western Bank—on 8th January, between twelve and a quarter to one, a man, who, to the best of my belief, is the prisoner, gave me across the counter a cheque for £8 10s. drawn by Miss Gibbs—had seen him ten years ago when he dealt with our Sydenham Branch—I saw him there whenever he came in—I cannot say that it was pretty constantly—when he came in on the 8th I said, "Good morning"—he said, "Good morning! do you know me?"—I said, "Yes, Mr. Tonkin of Sydenham, you used to bank with us ten years ago"—he seemed rather surprised; he said, "No, my name is White, I have come to present this cheque," and he presented this cheque which was endorsed J. W. C. White—there was some little delay in cashing it, owing to our cashier being downstairs—while he was being called I apologised to the prisoner for having called him Mr. Tonkin, but at the same time I said he was remarkably like him—when he received the money he said, "By-the-bye I seem to know you from somewhere, but I cannot tell you where—he got the money and left the bank—I next saw him on 6th February in the main line booking office at Victoria Station, and I identified him then as the man who had cashed the cheque on the 8th January—the signatures to these cheques are those of the Tonkin I used to know at Sydenham, and whom I identify as the prisoner.
Cross-examined. When I saw the prisoner at Victoria Station he came down the steps with a gentleman who was with him when I identified him—I could nut tell you if the gentleman was Mr. Morgan—I had not received any communication from Mr. Morgan to go into the waiting-room—Mr. Swabrick. the solicitor for the prosecution, brought me there—I think he told me to watch the people who came into the waiting-room and see if I could identify the man—the prisoner and the other man both came down the winding staircase—I did not see them shake hands—I do not know that the prisoner was there in consequence of an appointment Mr. Morgan had made with him—the Bank have not made good the cheque to Miss Gibbs—Hodges is the cashier who cashed the cheque for the prisoner; he is not here to-day, nor was he called at the Police-court—he has not seen the prisoner to identify him to my knowledge—I handed him the cheque—he handed me the money in the scoop and I handed it to the prisoner; Hodges did not look at the prisoner, so he tells me—he has not been asked to identify him—since the cheque was paid nothing has occurred to alter, modify, or strengthen my opinion about the prisoner's identity—I addressed him as Mr. Tonkin; it did not alter my opinion when he said his name was J. C. White—I thought it strange for a man to give an alias in a bank—I dared not refuse to cash the cheque—I could not detain him for half an hour to make inquiries—I believed the man to whom I had paid the cheque had given a wrong name; I believed he was Tonkin—I did not think it a suspicious circumstance; I took no notice of it—I made two or three remarks to my clerks—I cannot say at what date I heard that the endorsement was forged—I had a stop order from Miss Gibbs—I did not communicate with anybody—two or three days after the stop order Mr. Swabrick saw me about the cheque, and I said I had addressed the man who cashed the cheque as Mr. Tonkin—I had not seen him for ten years.
Re-examined. When I went to the booking-office to identify the prisoner there were people passing about—I did not know by what staircase the prisoner was coming down—I picked him out as the man who had cashed the cheque on 8th January—I was not told that Tonkin was coming, or to expect, or to look out for him—Mr. Swabrick did not tell me anything; we were in general conversation when I saw the prisoner coming down, and said, "that is Mr. Tonkin to the best of my belief, the man who cashed the cheque."
HENRY TREVOR WILSON . I live at 13, Love Walk, Camberwell—I am junior clerk in the New Cross Branch of the London and South-Western Bank—on 8th January, between twelve and one, the prisoner came in and had a conversation with Mr. Davis and cashed a cheque—he was for five or ten minutes in the bank altogether, I think—I saw him now and then during that time, not all the while—after the prisoner's arrest I picked him out from among others at the Greenwich Police-station.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before 8th January—I went to Greenwich at ten, but I waited there an hour before I was shown the men—they were waiting in a corridor—they were men of all ages, two or three had grey hair and some were comparatively young men—the person who cashed the cheque had a grey beard—the only persons I looked at in the corridor were those with grey hair and beards.
what he would be charged with—he said, "It is a mistake, it is a grand mistake"—I took him to the station—I found on him 8s. 1 1/2 d., a 25 cent note, a pocket-knife, umbrella, rule, three pocket handkerchiefs, and five memoranda, which he said were in his handwriting—when charged at the station he pointed to the prosecutrix and said, "I never saw that lady before, did you say on 24th or 28th? I don't know nothing at all about it, can I have bail?"—afterwards I went to his house and saw his son, who gave me these fourteen cheques and three memoranda—I showed the cheques to the prisoner on the 14th, at the Police-court; he said, "They are my cheques, my signature, and my writing."
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries about the prisoner, only as regards the last twelve years—I have known him to be in Sydenham for twelve years, and during that time he had borne the character of a most respectable and honest man—I do not know whether he was in the Royal Arsenal, and afterwards at Krupp's, at Essen—I have heard he was receiving a pension from the Government.
GEORGE SMITH INGLIS . My office is at Red Lion Square, Holborn—I am an expert in handwriting—I have examined and compared this cheque for £8 10s., a bundle of fourteen cheques, five memoranda, and this cheque for £ 15, and I am of opinion that the person who endorsed the £15 cheque, and wrote the memoranda, and signed the fourteen cheques, endorsed this cheque for £8 10s.; if necessary, I am prepared to give my reasons.
Cross-examined. I should say the endorsement was not disguised; if it was it was simply the top of one "W"—experts are only human beings, and liable to make mistakes.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN THOMAS HOLMES MOSS . I am a solicitor, practising at 15, Walbrook, in the City—I have been a solicitor just over twenty years—I am acting for the prisoner in this case—I practise a good deal at Greenwich County Court—on 8th January I was there as solicitor for the plaintiffs, Howarth and Sons, in their action against the prisoner—I have the plaint note, with the date for the hearing of the trial, 8th January, 1892.—the prisoner came before the Deputy-Registrar, Mr. Bristowe, and consented to judgment—that was a little before eleven, and I wanted certain information from him, I had twenty cases there, and I kept him alongside of me till I had finished a case, at 12,25—I will swear the prisoner was in my company from eleven to 12.25—it is a little under two miles from the County Court to the London and South-Western Bank; I know it is over a 2s. cab fare—a tramway runs from Greenwich to Catford; it is a little over two and a-half miles to the terminus there—the prisoner left meat 12.25, with the intention of going home to Stanstead Road, Forest Hill—he would take the omnibus from Catford to Forest Hill.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was summoned for ten—I had over twenty cases there, and that kept him and me—I have a pretty good memory, I know the plaintiff and defendant in each case, and I should remember the time of this case without referring—the case was down for hearing at ten, but the Deputy did not come into Court till just upon 10.30, and then it had to come on in its order—after it was over I wanted information from him as to who the debtors were who owed money to him—Howarth and Sons were suing him for debt—he left me at 12.30, I
had to go before the Judge after that—he shook hands with me when he went—I had just finished a case, and I had a conversation with him in an interval between my cases, and I looked at the clock; it was 12.25—he said he was going home; going to catch a tram; when you have finished a case you cannot help looking at the clock.
FREDERICK WILLIAM BUCKINGHAM . I live at 12, Jutland Road, Brown Hill Road, Catford—I am a driver on the South-Eastern Metropolitan Tramways Company—at ten o'clock on 8th January, I and Inspector Stansfield went to Mr. Pook's, a solicitor in Greenwich, in consequence of an action against the tram company, in which we were concerned—we saw Mr. Pook's clerk and the prisoner—he said good morning to me and Stansfield—we were together in the office about five or ten minutes—I and Stansfield went there again at twelve o'clock—I saw the prisoner again that day at 12.40 sitting in the corner of the tramcar at Blackheath Hill, about five minutes' walk from the County Court—it was a car going to Catford—I got on at the bar of the car and noticed him—I went on the top—I went to Catford terminus—we got there at two or three minutes after one—the prisoner got out there—from 12.40 to two or three minutes after one the prisoner was in that car—I had seen him before that day; he is a regular rider up and down on the cars—I remember the day, because of going to Pook's office.
Cross-examined. I am sure it was 8th January I went to Pook's office; I went to have my proof taken—it was my pay-day as well—it is a little more than a mile from the County Court to Lewisham High Road; I suppose you could walk it in twelve minutes—I don't know the London and South-Western Bank—Catford is about a mile and a quarter from Lewisham High Road—my attention was first called to 8th January about a month or three weeks ago—the prisoner first spoke to me about it, and then Mr. Moss came to see me last Friday—that was the first time I heard from Mr. Moss about it; it was some few days before that that the prisoner had spoken to me—I see the prisoner nearly every day travelling on my tram-car—he has no stated time—when Mr. Moss came to me last Friday he asked me if I knew Mr. Tonkin; I said, "Yes"; and he said, "Do you know the time Tonkin got on to the car on the 8th January?"—I had mentioned 8th January to Mr. Moss before that—he asked me if I recollected the gentleman, and if I recollected the time; I said it was on the 8th January—I noticed him because he was a regular rider, and we pass the time of day to regular riders, and take notice of them—I fix it as the 8th that I saw him in the car because I had been to Mr. Pook's office, and when I got to Catford I got my wages—I have no wages-sheets to show I received money that day—I know I got on the car at 12.40, by the time we came out of Mr. Pook's office, and the time-sheet will prove it—our business with Mr. Pook did not take above fifteen or twenty minutes; we were more than ten minutes with him; there was no clock there, but I had my watch—I looked at it when I went in and came out, but I cannot tell you the exact time—it is three or four minutes' walk from Pook's office to the tram—I and the inspector and the manager went and got a drink, and then got on the tram, about a quarter of an hour, I should think, after we left Pook's office—I did not look at my watch then—I can only fix the time by remembering how long it was after we left Pook's office—I should not like to pledge myself accurately as to the times, but I know for
certain the exact time we got on the car, because it is in black and white—we all got off together at Catford terminus, and then I lost sight of the prisoner—the tram takes about twenty-two or twenty-three minutes to go from where I got on to Catford.
Re-examined. I see the prisoner in my tram nearly every day, but I do not see him at Mr. Pook's office nearly every day—I was off duty this day—I remembered when I saw the prisoner in the tram-car that I had seen him in Pook's office the same morning—I saw him speak to Stanfield, the inspector—this tram-car starts from the South Street terminus at a certain time; it may be two or three minutes late, but they are fined if they are late—it should start from South Street about 12.36; it takes about three minutes to reach Blackheath Hill, so that it should get there about 12.39 or 12.40—I told Mr. Moss that the day I was at rook's office was 8th January.
TRISTRAM STANFIELD . I live at 10, Brookdale Road, Catford; I am inspector of the tramways on which Buckingham is a driver—on 8th January, I, he, and our manager went to Mr. Pook's office by appointment at ten—I saw the prisoner come in shortly after we got there; I knew him as a regular rider—he did not say anything, only nodded—Mr. Pook could not see us, and we went out—I saw the prisoner again that same day, at 12.40, in a tram-car which I joined at Blackheath Hill—I produce the time-sheets—the car should start from South Street about 12.35; sometimes it is a little earlier and sometimes a little later—on this 8th January I am positive it was at Blackheath Hill at 12.40—I rode on the footboard—I did not speak to him, nor he to me, till we got to Catford just after one o'clock; he was under my eyes the whole way—he then asked me if I would have a drink; I said, "No, thank you; it is pay-day, and I want to get my money"—I went with Buckingham to get my money.
Cross-examined. Mr. Pook could not see us at ten o'clock, as he had a case at the County Court—we had made an appointment the day before for ten o'clock—I saw a clock in the office, and we were punctual—I came back and ticketed the cars, and then went back to Mr. Pook's office at twelve—it was the first time I went to the office that I saw the prisoner—he did not say anything; he opened the door and nodded, and seeing it was not likely be could see Mr. Pook he went away—we were punctual to the appointment we made for twelve o'clock—Buckingham could have seen the clock—our business with Mr. Pook took about twenty minutes; we went back and then we went into a public-house, as there was no car there—I looked at my watch when I got on the car and booked the time down on this way-bill, 12.40, with my initials—directly the conductor gave me the way-bill and the tickets I put the time down, and that shows I was on the car at 12.40—the time I got to Catford is shown on the return-sheet; and I brought the same car back at 1.16, after receiving my salary—and you will see when I attended Mr. Pook's office.
Re-examined. On my return-sheet there is, "At Mr. Pook's office with witnesses for him to take their evidence re Han's case 11.50; "that was when I left the road to go there—I always look at my watch when I get on a car, and I did so when I got on at 12.40—the tramcar had started from South Street 400 or 500 yards from Blackheath Hill, and the prisoner was in it when he arrived at Blackheath Hill.
FREDERICK BURTENSHAW . I am a conductor on this tram line—I relieved Buckingham on 8th January, and was in charge of the tram-car starting from South Street at 12.35—I know the prisoner as a regular rider; and he was the only person in that tram-car—you can walk from the County Court to South Street in five minutes.
Cross-examined. My car was due away about 12.37, and the prisoner got in about two minutes before it started, and rode right through to Catford—he got out there about 1.5; the ear is due to arrive there at 1.8; I was before my time—I cannot say how many people got out there—it is over a mile from the High Road, Lewisham, to Catford; I cannot say how far it is.
Re-examined. My wife was the manageress of the Man of Kent Coffee House, at Catford—the prisoner went there when he left the car.,
CATHERINE BURTENSHAW . I am the wife of the last witness—last January I was manageress of the Man of Kent Coffee House at Catford—on 8th January my husband was driving, and I saw the prisoner come into the coffee-house about 1.5—he had two boiled eggs, and left to catch the 1.30 omnibus to Forest Hill—my husband came in.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been a constant customer; he has been two or three times a week sometimes—he always has two eggs, and he always asks me to let him know when the 'bus is coming—that was the first time that week that he had been in—I fix the day because my husband, who was a conductor, did the driver's work that day; I found that out when he came in; and that was the day when they went to state their case about the bicycle accident—my memory was first thrown back to 8th January about three weeks ago, when the prisoner asked me if I recollected the day, and if I recollected his coming in a few minutes after one, and I said, "Yes"—he asked me if I remembered what time he came in—he never mentioned my husband, nor the date, nor anything—he only asked me if I remembered the day he came in early—that was the only day he came in early—he usually came in about four, five, or six—I was asked about it about three weeks ago, and I never heard anything more till I was subpoenaed.
The prisoner received a good character—.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ALFRED BECKETT . I am manager of The Yeoman public-house, Rotherhithe—on February 27th, about 7.30 a.m., I served the prisoner with some ale, price twopence; he gave me a shilling; I put it in the till—about three-quarters of an hour afterwards he called for some ale and tobacco, and gave me a shilling—I bent it on the counter in his presence, and asked him where he got it—he said that a mate of his, in the Docks, gave it to him—I said, "You had better fetch your mate, and we will give it to him"—he then paid with a good shilling—I gave him the coin, and he said he would fetch his mate in five minutes—I examined the first coin, and found that bad also—I gave it to Serjeant Foley—this is it (produced)—I never saw the prisoner again till I picked him out from seven or eight others at Greenwich.
ale, price twopence; he gave me half-a-crown—I placed it by itself at the back of the counter, and gave him the change—my husband came in and called my attention to it—I. found it was bad—next day, Saturday, the prisoner came in between one and two o'clock for half a pint of ale and a pennyworth of tobacco, and paid with a shilling—I tried it and was rather doubtful about it, so I put it on the counter and my husband took it up—I have seen the prisoner four or five times.
JOHN WESTON . I keep the Victoria—on January 29th I went into the bar and saw a half-crown on the counter; I tried it and it was bad—I saw a man come into the bar the next day when my wife was there—I examined the shilling and found it bad and bent it—this is it—I went into the tap-room and asked the prisoner where he took it—ho said he did not know, and took some money out of his pocket—I said, "It is not the first time you have been here," and gave him in charge with the coins.
WILLIAM BEALE (114 R). I was called, and the landlord showed me the bad shilling—I said to the prisoner, "How do you account for it?"—he said, "I don't know; I have done a couple of hours' work in the Docks, and must have got it there"—the landlord said, "He was here yesterday, and passed a bad half-crown"—he said, "Yesterday I was not in the house, and if I was I could not have changed a half-crown, because I only had a penny"—I found on him a half-crown, a sixpence, and five pence, all good.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he did not know that the coins were bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended.
ALICE BOWYER . I live at 1, George Place, Greenwich, and am a clerk in the Post Office, Lewisham High Road—on February 28th the prisoner came in for a 10s. postal order, and tendered a crown and other silver—I told him the crown was bad—he said, "Oh, is it! I know where I have taken it; give it me back"—he took back the silver, and put down a half-sovereign, and I gave him the order—I had seen him before, and he tried the same trick.
WILLIAM WELLS . I assist Mr. Longstaff, a grocer, of 2, The Terrace, Lady well—he keeps the Post-office—on February 22nd the prisoner came in for a postal order for ten shillings, which I gave him—he gave me a bad crown and some silver—I told him it was bad—he ran out—I ran after him and said, "You have given me a counterfeit five-shilling piece"—he sail he had taken it in change, and offered me a half-sovereign—I refused to take it—I saw the postal order at the Police-court which I gave him.
Cross-examined. He had got about a hundred yards when I overtook him—he went to the station with me without my having to call the police.
GUILTY *— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SMITH Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice A. L. Smith.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
386. JAMES SULLIVAN** (34) and WILLIAM ARNOLD* (22) PLEADED GUILTY to being found by night with housebreaking implements in their possession. Sullivan having been convicted at this Court in February, 1886, in the name of Bartholomew Swing. SULLIVAN— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
ARNOLD— Three Years' Penal Servitude. And
387. JAMES POYNTON (21) , to indecently assaulting Mary May Dean and Maud Ellen Dean, each under the age of thirteen, and occasioning them actual bodily harm.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WOODGATE Prosecuted.
LOUIS ALEXANDER . I am a plumber, of 17, Strutt Buildings—on February 6th, between 11.30 and twelve p.m. I was in Crown Square, and three men surrounded me—the prisoner was one—they rifled my pockets, and I lost ten shillings—they ran, and a policeman brought the prisoner back—I have no doubt he was one of the men.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not so drunk that I could hardly stand at the station—a policeman had not to take off my coat and brush it for me—my arm and shoulder were hurt very much.
HARRY CROOP (190 M). I heard cries of "Police!" just before midnight, and saw Alexander on the ground, and three men running away; the prisoner was one; I caught him and took him back—Alexander said he had lost ten shillings—the prisoner said that I had made a mistake—it was a wet night.
GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
JAMES JOSEPH TATTERSHALL . I keep the Angel, Cumming Street—on 23rd February I locked up ray premises about 12.30 a.m.—I went to bed about two o'clock, and was awoke at four by a bell—I went down, and found four constables there—I missed £9 11s., and a pin and two rings—Ottway afterwards showed me the pin and the rings—I had not seen the prisoner at my house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I found a window open, and the box of a lock pulled oft.
Cross-examined. There is no outlet to the back yard—they have to go through our promises to got there.
JOHN OTTWAY (Detective-Sergeant M). I was on duty in Southwark Street, and saw the prisoner and two others—we followed them from Union Street to Newman Street, and about twelve o'clock they wont to the Angel—I waited outside, and saw the other two men leave, but not the prisoner—we waited till four o'clock, when I directed the officer on the beat to ring the bell, and he had not gone many yards when the door opened and the prisoner rushed out—I saw something bright in his right hand, and struck him with my truncheon—the other officers came up—I searched him, and in his right pocket I found this open knife, and in another pocket this screw driver, and under his coat two rings and a pin, which the prosecutor identified, and £1 19s. in silver.
Cross-examined. I apprehended you half-way out at the door—you said, "I don't take life, I value life too much myself"—there was nothing in your possession which could glitter except this knife, and it was in your outside coat-pocket.
ALBERT BOLTON (Detective M). I was with Ottway, and saw the bell of the Angel rung, and saw the prisoner come out—I found on him £7 12s. in gold, a screw which came out of the box of the lock, and a candle.
Cross-examined. Your head was outside the door when you were apprehended, but your feet wore not.
WILLIAM SWORDS (Police Inspector M). I road the charge to the prisoner at the station; ho said, "How can you call it breaking in? the window bus not fastened, I pulled it down and got in at the top"—I went to the back yard, the window was closed but the catch was broken, and there were two chairs there—I compared this screw with the box of the lock, and it fitted—another man was charged and discharged.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "This man is innocent. I do not wish to see him punished for what I am guilty of."
Prisoner's defence: I was always given to understand that burglary was breaking into a house violently. I admit the robbery, but do not consider I am guilty of burglary.
— GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour.
The GRAND JURY commended the conduct of Ottway and Bolton, in which the RECORDER concurred.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
FRANCIS PYKE (Detective D). On the morning of June 18 I was on duty in Gordon Road, Battersea Park, and saw the prisoner and two others—Newton, who is in prison, and the prisoner, were trying the doors; I watched them for ten minutes, and signalled another constable; we saw them twice trying a door with a jemmy—they all three walked away down Park Road—the other constable went round and met them, and I came behind them—he took Newton, and I took the prisoner, who went quietly for about 200 yards, and then became very violent, and kicked me on my knee and got away—I identified him on 13th February; I knew him, having had him in custody before—I have not the slightest doubt he is one of the three who tried to force the door.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have had you in custody before on a warrant—you told me you were a deserter from the Army—I did not come to Wandsworth Prison and apprehend you; King and Thorley did, and we had a few words as to who was to have the charge—we get paid half-a-sovereign—there was no quarrel—your hat fell off when you struggled—I did not know where you lived—you live anywhere.
FRANK MILLWARD (236 V). On 18th June, 1891, about 1.46 a.m., I was in duty in Battersea Park Road, and saw the prisoner and two others go to the side-door of the Park Tavern; the prisoner went to the door twice, and attempted to force it open with this jemmy—I heard the door click—I went round about a quarter of a mile, and met the prisoner and two other men—Sullivan, who is now doing twelve months, and another man got away; the prisoner kicked the constable on his legs, and threw him down and ran, leaving his coat and hat behind him—I afterwards saw him in custody, and identified him—I am certain he is the man—the inspector brought the jemmy to the station an hour afterwards.
NATHAN F. LEE (Police Inspector). On 18th June, about 2.30 a.m., I was on duty when Sullivan was brought in—the detective said that he threw something away, and I went and found this jemmy; the marks on the tavern door corresponded with it.
Cross-examined. Sullivan was not charged till we took you—I found the jemmy in the front garden of No. 6—I did not see you till last month.
JOSEPH REDHOUSE . I kept the Grove Tavern, Battersea Park Road, in July last—on 18th July I was called up about 2 a.m., by two constables and an inspector—I went down and let them in, and found marks on the door corresponding with this jemmy.
WALTER HOPKINS (Policeman). I took the prisoner, and told him it was for attempting to break into the Globe public-house in June last—he said, "On my oath I know nothing about it; hang me straight, and I will put up with it."
Cross-examined. I apprehended you as a deserter, but I cannot tell you the date—when I had you in custody for one thing, I was not going to give you up for another.
The prisoner, in his defence, denied being one of the men,— GUILTY .
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Wandsworth on March 19th 1887.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
391. ELIZABETH TRUDE** (37) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Green, and stealing two watches, after a conviction at Guildhall, on December 3rd, 1889— Twelve Months' Hard labour.
392. HERBERT HEEKS (26) and FREDERICK WILSON (17) , to breaking and entering the shop of William Dowling, and stealing a quantity of meat, his property.— Six Months' Hard Labour each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
393. THOMAS STONE (40) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Sophia Coles, and stealing eight sheets and other articles, her property, after a conviction at Newington on the 9th of June, 1891.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
CHICK also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in July, 1890.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
STEWART and LAMB.— Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 4TH, 1892.