CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
NINTH SESSION, HELD JUNE 27TH, 1892.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE.
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, June 27th 1892, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. DAVID EVANS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir ALFRED WILLS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Knt., Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt., Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., M. P., # Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , Knt., Q. C., M. P., Recorder of the said City; STUART KNILL , Esq., GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., EDWARD HART , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., JOSEPH COOKFIELD DIMSDALE, Esq., JNO. POUND, Esq., and WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR, 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., Q. C., 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 HAALSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EVANS, MAYOR. NINTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, June 27th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
593. HARVEY GAY (15) , to two indictments for forging and uttering two cheques for £25 and £10, also for unlawfully obtaining £10 by false pretences.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited . (And
(594). HENRY FORRESTER (19) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Richard Williams, and stealing a pipe and £11 3s., and to a conviction of felony at this Court in May, 1890.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard labour.
595. ROBERT LOVE DAKIN was indicted for that he, being the master of a ship called the British Peer, and coming into collision with the Roxburgh Castle, did, without reasonable cause, fail to render such assistance as was practicable to the crew of the disabled vessel.
Before plea MR. GILL submitted that the indictment omitted the important words in the section of the Act under which the charge was made, vis., "if he could do so without danger to his own vessel or crew,"and that omission rendered the indictment unsustainable. MR. JAMES contended that the indictment, as it was worded, was sufficient. The RECORDER ruled that the objection could not be sustained. The prisoner (on MR. GILL'S advice) declined to plead, and a plea of NOT GUILTY was ordered by the COURT to be entered.
GEORGE TYRER . I hold a master's certificate, and have done so upwards of eighteen years—on 13th March last I was master of the steamship Roxburgh Castle—I had been so for twelve months—on 12th March, 1891, I left Newport, Monmouthshire, with a cargo of coal in bunkers, for the Piraeous—I had a crew of twenty-four, all told, consisting of myself, first and second officers, three engineers, two stewards, a coos:, six seamen, carpenters, and a boy—I took a pilot as far as to the Wash
—up to that time we had strong weather from the N. E., with snowstorms, clear at intervals up to about 13th. of May—at 1.20 a.m. we were off the Seven Stone Lightship—the weather was then moderating down, and became fine; there was a good sea to begin with, when the wind veered round to S. E.—I was on deck all day; after 1.20 I went below till the morning at eight—after that I was on deck all day—I went below again at 7.30; at that time the weather and sea was moderate—I went into the saloon—at 9.15 I heard an unusual noise on deck, a sort of crackling—I ran on deck, and as soon as I got on deck I heard a heavy crash; it was dark, and I had just come out of the light, and I did not see any vessel; if I had been used to the dark I might have seen it—we came into collision with another vessel—the chief officer was coming off the bridge, and I spoke to him—the spars were all flying about—I ascertained that we had been run into on the starboard side; having ascertained that I returned to my cabin—I called the steward and the boy, and went on deck at once—I found all hands there except the chief engineer—I then looked into the engine-room, and gave certain orders—about two minutes after hearing the crash part of the stern on the starboard side was under water—after I got forward on the bridge the mainmast had fallen over—we had two lifeboats on board, fore and starboard, also a gig and cutter—I gave an order in reference to the starboard lifeboat; the second officer said it had been cut in two by the collision—I saw that the gig and cutter were under water—I then gave certain orders in reference to the other lifeboat, and she was got ready to be swung; we could not swing her on account of the stay being outside the davits—we lowered her into the chocks again—all hands tried to get in her, I among them, and tried to float her; it was the only chance we had; the ship turned over and sank, and the boat sank also, and all hands went down with the ship—I should say from the time of the collision till she sank was a quarter of an hour—I came up to the surface, and got hold of a spar or an oar, or a bit of plank—I could hear the cries from all who went down—there was only one other man near me—I saw the bright lights of the other ship, and swam towards her—she was a sailing vessel—she had lights over the bows to see the extent of the damage—I was dressed when I went over; I undressed in the water—I had a boatswain's whistle; I made use of that—I should say I was in the water half an hour, it was hard to judge—in my opinion there was no danger whatever to a lifeboat being lowered; not even to a small boat—having got to the vessel, which I afterwards found to be the British Peer, some ropes were thrown out, and I was taken on board—I saw Captain Dakin after a time; I asked to see him—he was on the starboard side of the deck, close to where I got on board—I said to him, "For God's sake, captain, put a boat over to save my men"—he replied that he had enough to do to look after his own ship—after that I went into the cabin; the captain went with me—he asked me to remain there to look after the spirit locker, as he was afraid his men would break into it—I remained there till twelve o'clock—I was exhausted; I had two cuts, my head was knocked about, and I was laid up after I got home—the captain gave me some clothes—when I came up at twelve o'clock I went on the poop; I thought I was no good in the cabin; the captain and the men were going in and out to get provisions—I said there was no use in my staying
there, and I went on the poop—after I was rescued, and previous to my going into the cabin, I heard cries—we eared one man—I heard no cries after I came out of the cabin—as soon as they saved the one man we went into the cabin—I heard cries for ten minutes; I could not hear what was said, that was when I was below—they were crying, "Save me! save me!"—after the man was got on board I heard no more cries—I was on board when he was rescued; I assisted in rescuing him; his name is Whitelaw, an A. B.; he was on the look-out at the time of the collision—the British Peer hailed a steamer between seven and eight next morning, and was ultimately towed into Falmouth on Monday, the 15th.
Cross-examined. This matter of the collision was the subject of inquiry for two or three days before Mr. Justice Jeune; both ships were found to blame; the Roxburgh Cattle for not reversing the engines, and the British Peer for having defective lights—I believe at the time of that judgment notice was given of a Board of Trade inquiry into this matter—I understood that it was going to be taken to the Admiralty Court first—I have commanded a sailing vessel—our vessel was struck on the starboard side, abaft the engine—our engines are in the middle of the ship, the weakest part—the collision was a violent one—our ordinary speed is nine knots—I could not say at what speed we were going at the time of the collision, because she was on her wind—I had not turned in or undressed—I went below at 7.30, the collision occurred after nine—when I came on deck it was dark—there was not a heavy sea; there was no sea—it was not calm, there was a swell; the day before the S. E. wind was heavy, but the wind had veered to the N. E., and knocked it down—the collision was violent—I turned my attention to my crew and ship—as a captain, the first thins I should do would be to ascertain the extent of the damage—the ship had already been brought to a standstill—her headgear was gone—they might lower down her topsails, and back the main topsail—I should first ascertain the extent of damage, and then take in sails—I afterwards had the opportunity of ascertaining the extent of the damage to the British Peer; I saw that her bows were stove in, and the stem carried right away; the stem was turned round a-starboard, so that there was nothing to prevent the water getting into the fore-foot—this photograph is a pretty correct representation of it; I have seen it before—the ship was an iron ship; the fore-foot was very small—there was no extra strain on the bulkhead—her register was 1,200 or 1,400 tons—the water had got into (he fore-foot; I did not ascertain that the iron door was open; I ascertained that there was no water in the ship, and that the bulkhead was secured—I knew that the captain had been engaged with men in shoring up the bulkhead—I was not on board this vessel within seven or ten minutes of the collision; I think it was nearer an hour; it was full a quarter of an hour before my ship sunk, and I was in the water certainly more than half an hour—I understood when I was in the cabin that the shoring-up had been done; I made inquiries, and found that the bulkhead was secure; the captain told me so—I am not positive whether he told me about the fore-toot—I did not see the men engaged in cutting away the bowsprit; next morning I saw that it had been cut away; I saw that they were cutting away the headgear next morning—the second officer was aloft with his men—the first thing I said to the captain of the British Peer was, "For God's sake, captain,
put a boat over to save my crew!"—I did not ask him to pat the ship about—I do not know how far I was from the collision at the time my ship went down; I went as far as I could swim, and I was in the water half an hour—I should think we were rather over a quarter of a mile from the ship when she sank; it might be half a mile—the prisoner told me he had enough to do to look after his own ship.
Re-examined. The only thing to prevent the water getting into the fore-foot would be the bulkhead—if the bulkhead was properly shored up there would be no danger to the fore-foot—as soon as I got into the cabin I asked the captain all particulars—I ascertained that there was no water in the well—one of the crew made a communication to me, and I communicated what he said to the captain, and asked him again if there was any water in the well, end he replied there were nine inches—the ship was not pumped out while I was on board—when I first came up after my vessel sank I judge that the lights of the other vessel were between a quarter and half a mile off—I think she was drifting towards me—as regards the accident to the British Peer there was nothing to prevent the lowering of the boats.
By the COURT. I believe she carried twenty-five hands all told—I went and saw the four-foot next day; it was very small—the ship was light, there was very little water.
JOHN BIRCH . I was an able seaman on board the British Peer—at the time of the collision I was against the half-deck door—after the collision I went below and passed up some lamps—I could see the light of the ship we were in collision with, I only looked at it for about five minutes—I was below about a quarter of an hour—after passing up the lamps I came on deck—I received instructions from the second mate and the captain to go and help them to store the boats—I did so, and helped to provision the boats—at the time of the collision I saw the captain on the poop, burning a light—I did not hear him give any directions, there was so much noise—after the collision I heard cries for about five or ten minutes—I did not see the captain of the Roxburgh Castle brought on board—it was after I came up from getting the lamps that I heard the cries—the captain had then been brought on board—I did not see any attempt made to lower the boats; I was down in the bread-tank—there were four boats; none of them were swung—I saw the chocks knocked away just after we started to provision the boats; I and several others did it—the captain gave me no instructions to do it—he might have given orders to somebody else—it was rather a dark night, not starlight; should not call it a thick night—I daresay you might see lights a mile off, or more; it was not very thick, it was just murky—I don't know if there had been a boat whether I would have gone in it; I might if I had been asked.
Cross-examined. I think it would have been dangerous to lower a boat—I have been at sea three or four years—there was not a heavy sea—there was a great deal of excitement and noise—I did not ascertain where the captain went after the collision—I have been in the four-foot several times—I heard men shouting out that there was water in the fore-foot—I did not see the captain after he was on the poop until we were all working below shoring up the bulkhead—to get into the forefoot we go through a small iron door between decks; if that door was mot fastened the water would get in between decks—some of the men
went to fasten that door; it had been opened—I did not know that it was open until I saw some of them looking for bolts to get it fixed up, to keep the water from coming in between decks; unless that was done, the water would come in, and nothing could prevent the ship foundering—I was not one of those that went down to shore up; I was passing the things to shore up with—I saw the men engaged in it—I saw that the captain was there—that lasted a good hour, I should think—while they were there I heard the jibboom banging against the side of the ship—some men were ordered to cut it away—5 thought it would have knocked a hole in the ship—I remember the captain of the other vessel coming; on board; that was about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after the collision, or it might be more, I daresay fifteen minutes—I did not see him pulled on board—I saw him on board—it was a good while before I saw him there; but I heard he was on board—the first time I saw him he was in the cabin, and he was bleeding somewhere—I think it was after I heard the cries that the captain ordered me to store the boats.
Re-examined. In my opinion it took an hour to shore up the collision bulkhead; it took six or seven men; the captain was there among them—I think the number of hands, all told, was twenty-nine—in my opinion it was dangerous to lower a boat at the time, because the sea was rather heavy; it was not a rough sea, not a swell; it was rather choppy.
By the COURT. A man must have had a good job to swim a quarter of a mile; he must have been a good swimmer—I think it was about 25 ft. from the bulkhead to the cutwater.
EDWARD CHADWICK . I was an able seaman on board the British Peer—I was at the wheel at the time of the collision—about three minutes after I received instructions from the captain to keep a good look-out for the steamer—she had come to then—I saw her lights for about half a second, or something like it, just when she struck; that was all—I heard cries in the water about seven minutes after the collision—I heard the cries for about two hours—I heard Captain Tyrer say to Captain Dakin, "Good God! try and save my crew"—Captain Dakin replied, "Charity begins at home first"—I heard one party cry, "We are on a breaker, two of us; ship ahoy! try and save us"—that was about three-quarters of an hour after the collision—judging by the sound of the voices, I should say they were about 150 yards from the vessel—at the time of the collision there was about half a swell on; it was not very smooth, still it was not very rough—after the collision the British Peer drifted; the Roxburgh Castle drifted from the British Peer; the British Peer remained stationary; she was all about—she might have drifted; there was A current.
Cross-examined. I cannot say how long after the collision Captain Tyrer was hauled on board; I don't know whether he was hauled on board—it was about seven minutes after the collision that he came on. board—I should say it was a very violent collision; there was a good deal of excitement and noise on board—the moment she collided I heard the men shouting that water was getting in the fore-foot—the men forward were shouting out, "Our fore-foot is making water"—I have been in the fore-foot—we have no iron door, we go through a hatch in the forecastle deck—when the men shouted out that die fore-foot was making water, our captain at once said, "All hands down, and secure the bulkhead"—
I should say the British Peer was about seventeen to nineteen years old—the captain went down to the bulkhead, and hurried the men down with him—his attention was at once directed to the danger of his ship—they were down there over two hours; I don't know whether they were shoring up all that time; I was engaged in my own position, at the wheel.
Re-examined. I did not help at all in the shoring up; I could not see them—I did not know of the jibboom banging against the side of the ship.
By the JURY. I should think the Roxburgh Castle took three or four minutes in sinking; after seven minutes I lost sight of her altogether; I saw Captain Tyrer with a flare in his hand, and when I looked again it was gone.
By the COURT. I should say it was about seventeen minutes after I saw the vessel go down that Captain Tyrer came on board—he could have been three or four minutes drifting the distance; perhaps she might be drifting towards us—I should say Captain Dakin was below about two hours—I saw him make the attempt to go below, but I could not see from the wheel that he did go; in my opinion he did go below.
BENJAMIN HOPLEY . I am an able seaman—I was on board the British Peer, at the time of the collision—I was below—I came on deck at once—I saw the Roxburgh Castle for about a quarter of an hour—I heard cries about fifteen minutes after the collision from people in distress in the water—they lasted an hour and a half—I did not see Captain Tyrer hauled on board; I saw him on board—I heard the people in the water sing out, "Save me, save me"—judging from the voices, I should say they were twelve or fourteen yards off—lines were put out—when Captain Tyrer came on board I heard him say to Captain Dakin, "Save my crew"—Dakin replied that he had to look to his own ship first—I saw some men by the lifeboats; they were getting them ready for lowering—I heard the prisoner say, "Never mind the boats, we must look to our own ship first."
Cross-examined. Immediately after the collision I heard shouting that the ship was making water in the fore-foot—I was stationed on the poop—it was a dark night—lamps were hung over the side and lines thrown out—the captain went forward; I don't know where he went to—I held out three red lights as signals of distress on hearing that the ship was making water.
By the COURT. I could not say if there was anything to prevent a boat being lowered—I have been at sea between six and seven years.
The official log of the British Peer was put in and read.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM LEWIS . I am a marine surveyor, a member of the firm of Thompson and Lewis—on 12th March, 1891, I surveyed the British Peer at the East India Docks—she was twenty-two years old—the forepeak is 18 ft. long at the main deck, and the depth from the main deck to the bottom would be about 26 ft.—the length of the vessel over all would be about 235 ft.—the stem and all the bow plates were broken right away down from the main deck to within 5 ft. of the keel; that is about 21 ft. was all broken up—the ship had not been temporarily repaired; she was towed up to London; beyond what the sailors had done, only the bulkhead had been strengthened at Falmouth, and sails and other things had been put over the bows; it was an iron bulkhead—the jibboom and bow-sprit
were broken right off and clean gone, and all the headgear and stays were gone—when she came into London the water in the forepeak was right up level until she was got into dry dock; it could not be pumped out until it ran out itself—the effect of a collision on the collision bulkhead depends on the strength of it; there would be a tremendous strain on the bulkhead as she rises—every time she pitched or tossed the water would rise to pretty well the height of the deck, and the greater the depth of water the greater would be the pressure on the bulkhead—if the door had been open the ship would have filled; no water had got into the cargo.
Cross-examined. No water had got in—I said there would be greater pressure on the bulkhead when she was pitching and tossing—whether there was danger to the vessel or not would depend on the amount of water.
Re-examined. There was nothing to prevent water getting into the forepeak; it was open, and water went in and out at its own pleasure.
CHARLES CHIVERS . I was second mate of the British Peer at the time of her collision with the Roxburgh Castle—at the time of the collision I was on watch on deck, standing aft on the poop, alongside the chartroom—we were going about 4 £ knots, and the Roxburgh Castle at about 10 or 11 knots—after the collision the prisoner called all hands on deck, and gave an order to lower away the topsail-halyards and clew up the sails—the effect of that was to keep the vessel stationary near the place of collision—I did not see the damage done to our ship till next day—we lowered the topsail halyards and clewed up, and I went up the topsail-halyards to help them; but before that I went into the forecastle and took off the forepeak-hatch, and had a look down, and saw the forepeak was full of water, and a lot more was rushing in—I think I sang out that she was filling up forward; that was when I was going forward—the next thing I heard the captain singing out for the carpenter and engineer to bring screws and bolts to bolt up the door in the bulkhead leading from the forehatch into the forepeak; the door is 2 ft. above the 'tween deck—the water was flying in then; every time the ship dived she threw some spray, but there was water above the 'tween deck in the foredeck—I did not go down into the forehatch—the chief officer was getting the boats clear for the swinging out—it would have taken between a quarter of an hour and twenty minutes to get the boat ready before we could have lowered it—it was a pretty heavy sea at the time; we had been under our lower topsails till noon that day—in my judgment it would not have been safe at that time to have lowered a boat—if the collision bulkhead had given way, or if the door had been open, the ship would have sunk.
Cross-examined. It would not have been safe to lower the lifeboat, because there was too much sea on; it was a pretty heavy sea and a dark night—I think I could have seen lights a mile off—it was a very rough sea; it was not a swell, there was a sea—I do not think a man could have swum for half an hour in that sea and have saved his life—I should have gone in the boat if I had been asked, but I would rather not have been asked—if they had called for volunteers for the boat I should have made a step, but I should not think to have come back alive—I heard some cries for help—I did not see the Roxburgh Castle go down; I saw her at the time of the collision and for about a minute afterwards—
I saw her blue light; that was the last thing I saw—I should judge she was four or five ships' lengths off when I last saw her; it is hard to say—I first saw Captain Tyrer at three next morning—the cries in the water lasted three or four minutes, or it might have been five, but I don't think it was over five—it was seven to ten minutes after we struck that I heard the cries; I was then on the topsail-yard—six or seven men went aloft with me; I could not say for certain.
THOMAS PBOCTOR . I am an able seaman, now on the Lord Clyde—I was an able seaman on the British Peer at the time of the collision with the Roxburgh Castle—I was in the second mate's watch, and was on deck at the time of the collision—immediately after it happened I went forward and lifted the forepeak hatch and saw the water rushing into the forepeak—I went aft and reported that the ship was making water—I did not see the captain; he was sent for first to see what the damage to the ship was—after that I and the carpenter and the engineer and the captain went down into the forehold to screw up a door in the collision bulkhead—the cargo did not come right up to the bulkhead—it took about half an hour to screw it up—at the time we were screwing it up the water. was just commencing to splash up to it—two of us screwed up the door, one the forepart and the other the after-part—the prisoner was with us during all the time we were attending to the door—after that I went into the lower hold to examine the collision bulkhead—I found it was leaking in two or three places—the prisoner gave instructions to get some 'tween deck hatches and put them up, and shore it up with spars—while engaged in this I heard the jibboom banging against the side of the ship as if it was going to knock a hole in the side—two or three of us said the captain ought to see that it should be cut away before anything else—I heard the captain shout orders to cut it away—at this time there was a heavy sea on—we did not come up from this shoring up until midnight.
Cross-examined. Six or seven of us were engaged in shoring up the bulkhead—there was a big heavy sea on; it was choppy; it was not half a swell, but a sea—I could not say whether a person could have swam half a mile in it or not; I should say that he could not—he could have kept afloat from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour—I don't believe that any man could have kept afloat for three-quarters of an hour or half an hour, because it was too cold, and because the sea was too rough—I should not have liked to go in the boat if I had been asked; I don't think I should have done so.
By the JURY. The jibboom was knocking against the starboard side, the side nearest to the sinking ship; the wind was blowing against the other side, the port side—the jibboom knocked against the vessel as she moved up and down, and that might have stoved in the plates.
JAMES WATERS . I was a seaman on the British Peer at the time of the collision with the Roxburgh Castle—I was in my bunk—I heard someone shouting to come out, "Someone is coming into us"—I came out of my bunk, and went on deck, and ran aft towards the break of the poop, and then came back forwards, and found there was water increasing in the forepeak—I, heard our captain giving orders to the chief officer to clear away the boat—the chief officer set me to assist in doing that; it was the starboard lifeboat—it would take us a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes to get it clear, I daresay—while doing that I was called
away by the chief officer—it was a big sea—it had been blowing; we were under small sail—if a boat had been lowered it would either have been smashed or not have returned—I heard cries a couple of times in the water, and threw a rope—I believe two men were hauled up; that was seven or eight minutes after the collision—when I was going up the main rigging our captain was going forward.
Cross-examined. I was coming out of the break of the forecastle when the collision took place; I was not on deck nor on the forecastle—I went on deck immediately after the collision—I saw the Roxburgh Castle after she wore round; I saw her for about five minutes; I had orders to attend to—I saw one man hauled over the side when I was in the main rigging; it would not be more than two or three minutes after the last time I saw the Roxburgh Castle—I did not give evidence before the Magistrate—it would have been dangerous to lower a boat, because the sea was too rough; there was too much of a heavy swell on—I do not think that a person could have swam for a quarter of an hour; it would be impossible without something to keep him up—the cries continued for within five minutes—that was before the man was hauled on board.
WILLIAM SPENCER . I am now a private in the Royal Dragoons—I was a seaman on the British Peer at the time of the collision in March—I was in the chief officer's watch, and was below when the collision threw me out of my bunk, and I ran out and heard a cry that our ship was sinking—I went back to my bunk and looked down the forepeak hatch and heard the water rushing in—two or three days before we had cleaned out the forepeak and painted it—in order to get into it we had passed through an iron door in the bulkhead, about a foot above the lower deck—that door had been left open so as to let the paint dry-after the collision, when I came on deck, I heard the second mate give Orders to take the sails in—I heard the prisoner's voice in the forehold giving orders, and going aft I saw the chief officer and some of the crew clearing away the starboard lifeboat—I was ordered to assist—ten minutes afterwards I heard some cries in the water—a rope was thrown over, and the master of the other ship was got in and taken to the cabin as soon as he got on board; and then another voice was heard, and another man was got on board—I then returned to the boat, and the chief officer told me to take my position in the boat—I did so, and then orders were given to go forward and cut away all the wreckage, the bowsprit and all the gear hanging over it broken—I assisted in cutting it away—during all this time the prisoner was below in the forehold—if the bulkhead door had not been closed, the ship diving, the water might have got in and the ship have filled.
Cross-examined. It might have taken about four persons to close that door.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, June 27th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
JACKSON received a good character.— [Pleaded Guilty.] Judgment respited.
KING— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
598. EDITH CLARA HILL (18) , To embezzling £10, the property of H. M. Postmaster-General ; also to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, a post letter containing a steel chatelaine.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.
600. ROBERT TAYLOR (26) , To forging and uttering a post office order for £10; also to altering a postal order for 3s.; also to forging and uttering a warran't for the payment of £10, and altering the same; also to two other indictments for forging and uttering post office orders, and to a conviction of felony on April 11th, 1891.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Three Years' Penal Servitude.
602. ALFRED ERNEST WILLIAMS (25) , To fraudulently removing certain stamps from a document, intending that use should be made of the same. He received a good character.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] To enter into recognisances to come up, for judgment if called upon . And
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
EMMA CLARK . My mother keeps a coffee-stall in Southampton Road, and lives at 24, Rochford Street—on 24th May I was assisting my mother, and the prisoner came to the stall about 9.45 a.m., and asked for tea and coffee and bread and butter, which came to fourpence—he gave me a half-crown—I put it in the till, and gave him 2s. 2d. change—there was no other money there—half an hour afterwards Mr. Bushell came up, and I purchased some greengrocery of him, and sent the coin to his house by one of his boys, who brought it back with a small mark on it, and I kept it till. the next day, when the prisoner came to the stall again, and said that he had heard about the coin being bad, and how sorry he was—I had spoken to several people about it—he gave me a good one, and I gave him back the bad one—I had not marked it or tried it, only on the ground—I had known the prisoner as a customer two years.
HENRY BUSHELL . I am a greengrocer, of 19, Lambeth Street, Kentish Town—on, I believe, 24th May, I called at Mrs. Clark's house, and in payment for goods supplied my boy brought me a half-crown—I did not like the look of it, and sent it back by the boy—it felt very light; I bit it, and it seemed soft.
EMILY BILLINGER . My husband is a baker, of 48, Chalk Farm Road—on 30th May the prisoner came in for two halfpenny buns, and gave me a four-shilling piece—I took it to my husband in the bakehouse, just through the parlour—I bit it on the way there, and it felt gritty—I believe this (produced) is it—my husband went back to the shop with me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can swear to it.
JOHN BILLINGER . I am the husband of the last witness—on the morning of May 30th she brought me a double florin into the bakehouse—I tried it with my teeth; it gritted and seemed soft, my teeth went into it—I took it into the shop and saw the prisoner—I said, "Where
did you get this?"—he said, "A gentleman gave it to me for carrying a parcel; I am very sorry; I am quite unaware that it is bad"—a constable was passing the shop, and I held the coin up to him, and said, "What do you think of this piece?"—he came in, and I gave the prisoner in custody with the double florin—this is it.
Cross-examined. It did not pass into anybody else's hands.
THOMAS HOLGATE (388 Y). On May 30, about 11.45,1 was passing Mr. Billinger's shop, and heard him say, "Where did you get this from?"—I stood in the doorway—the prisoner said, "I had it for carrying a parcel for a gentleman from Adelaide Road"; that is about 300 yards off—he did not say where he carried it to—I entered the shop, and Mr. Billinger showed me a double florin, and said, "What do you think of this? He has exchanged this for two rice cakes"—the prisoner said, "Don't lock me up"—I said I should have to search him; he said, "You need not, I have got no other money"—I took him into the parlour, searched him, and found eight florins and two sixpences in a little watch-pocket in the band of his trousers, all good—I took the coin to a jeweller and had it tested—the prisoner said, at the station, "I got the coins for carrying a parcel from Adelaide Road for a gentleman; I carry a parcel sometimes three or four times a week; I know the gentleman"—he afterwards said he did not know the gentleman—the inspector asked his address—he said, "I have got no home"—he asked him where he slept last night—he said, "In a lodging-house"—the bottom of Adelaide Road is 300 or 400 yards from where I arrested him, and the top is about half a mile.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this double florin is bad—one of the tests of a bad half-crown is its being gritty when tried with the teeth—its being light is another test.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said that he received the double florin for carrying a gentleman's luggage, and that the other coin was not bad, only a little knocked about, and that he afterwards changed it.
GUILTY of uttering the double florin.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
EMILY SARAH SELLS . I keep, a tobacconist's shop at Copenhagen Street, Islington—on 17th May the prisoner came in for half an ounce of shag, and gave me this half-crown—I gave him 2s. 4d. change, and he went away—almost immediately afterwards a detective came and made a communication to me, and I showed him the coin, which he put to his lips—he said something to me, and I put the coin by itself—about a quarter of an hour after he came back and marked the coin and took it away—on 25th May I picked out the prisoner at the Police-court from six other men; I was not quite sure at first, but when I heard him speak I was sure, and I am sure now.
FRANCIS CANHAM . I keep a newsagents and tobacconist's shop at 33, Camden Passage, Islington—on the 18th of May, between two and three o'clock, the prisoner came in for half an ounce of shag, and gave me a half-crown—I bent it in a tester, returned it to him, and said it was bad—he said, "Is it? I did not know that; I know where I got it
from, and I will go and get it changed"—he gave me the tobacco back, took the half-crown, and went away—the coin was not very much bent.
LOUISA MARY ARDEN . I live at 108, Pentonville Road, and assist in my husband's tobacconist's shop—on 22nd May, about 2.45, the prisoner come in for half an ounce of shag, and gave me this half-crown—I gave him the tobacco and the change, and he left—afterwards a constable came in, to whom I showed the half-crown—I tried it on the counter, it rang and sprang—the constable bent it with his teeth—he took it away—just before six pan. I went to the Police-station and saw the prisoner.
JAMBS SCOTT (Detective Sergeant E). On 18th May I saw the prisoner at White Lion Street, Clerkenwell, about two o'clock—I followed him to 33, Camden Passage, and saw him enter Mr. Canham's shop, and after a minute or two he left, examining a half-crown in his hand—I followed him to 108, Pentonville Road; he went almost directly there; going back a little through White Lion Street, he went into Mr. Arden's shop, and I saw him tender a half-crown—after he left I went in and asked Mrs. Arden to give me the coin—she handed me this half-crown; I put it in my teeth and bent it—I left the shop with the coin, and followed the prisoner to the corner of Bond Street, where I placed my hand on his shoulder, and said, "You are arrested for passing counterfeit coin"he said, "I got it from a man in the Strand yesterday, who I had a bet with"—I searched, and found 2s. 4d. good money on him—I handed him to another officer, who conveyed him to the station.
WILLIAM BLIGHT (Detective Sergeant G), On 17th May I was in Copenhagen Street, and saw the prisoner enter Miss Sells' shop about 12.16—when he came out I went in, and Miss Sells showed me this half-crown, which I tried with my teeth—I came out and followed the prisoner, but lost sight of him in White Lion Street—I returned to Copenhagen Street, and received the coin from Miss Sells; I marked it.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, asserted his innocence.
He received a good character.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Judgment respited.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 28th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PIGOTT Prosecuted.
RICHABD ASLET . I am manager of the town entry department of the Fore Street Warehouse Company, at 104, Fore Street—on the 16th of this month, between 10 and 10.30, I saw the prisoner in the waiting-room—I asked him what he was waiting for—he said, "I am waiting for a parcel for Tudor and Jinks, of Harlesden Green"—I asked him what the goods were that he had purchased—he said, "Shirts, and a railway rug; I wish you would let me have them, as I want to catch my train back; I am in a hurry"—I asked him his name—he said, "Lea"
—I asked him if he had an order from Tudor and Jinks—he unbuttoned his coat, and showed me a billhead and his order-book—I believed his statement, and let him have the goods—they were of the value of £1 13s. 8d.
WILLIAM MUNDAY . I am an assistant warehouseman to the Fore Street Warehouse Company—on the 16th of this month the prisoner came there and selected a quarter of a dozen shirts at 42s. a dozen—I served him, and asked him who they were for—he said, "Tudor and Jinks, of Harlesden"—I had the goods prepared for him—he said, "Send them down soon, as I want to take them with me"—it was purely a verbal order.
ARTHUR HENRY GRENVILLE . I am an assistant in the rug department of the Fore Street Company—on the 16th the prisoner came and asked to see some rugs—he selected one at 22s. 6d.—I asked him who it should be entered to—he said to Tudor and Jinks, of Harlesden—he asked it to be sent quickly to the entering-room, as he wished to take it with him.
THOMAS JINKS . I am a member of the firm of Tudor and Jinks, drapers, of High Street, Harlesden—I did not send the prisoner to the Fore Street Warehouse Company for goods on 16th of June—he had no authority from me to go there—he had been in our employ about three weeks, and left on 14th June—he had not been in the habit of ordering goods for us; he had no right to the possession of these billheads—he was a warehouseman in the dress department.
JAMES COFTER . I am assistant to. George Pocket, pawnbroker, of 35, Gray's Inn Road—on the 16th June these three shirts were pledged with us for 58. in the name of James Ingram, 7, Gray's Inn Road—the person who took in the pledge is not here—this is the ticket given to the pawner.
ALFRED WHITE . I am assistant to Messrs. Betts and Boyce, pawnbrokers, of 66, Theobald's Road—this rug was pawned with us by the prisoner on the morning of 16th June for 12s. 6d. in the name of John Ingram, 10, James Street.
SAMUEL LYTHEL (City Detective). On 21st inst. I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—I arrested him at Messrs. Crisp's, drapers, Seven Sisters Road, Holloway—he was in the shop, serving a customer—I said, "Ingram, I want to speak to you"—he came into the counting-house with his master—the three first witnesses were with me—I told the prisoner who I was, and told him the charge, and that the witnesses knew him—he said, "I know this one (referring to Aslet), but not the other two"—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I know him (Aslet) as belonging to the Fore Street Warehouse Company; I got these goods, to be paid for by Messrs Tudor and Jinks"—I took him to Moor Lane Station, searched him, and found on him five duplicates, among them the two produced—I said to him, "Why, these refer to the goods you had"—he said, "Yes"—I also found these two billheads on him—they were in a pocket book with the two duplicates.
Prisoner's Defence. I went to Fore Street to get the goods for Tudor and Jinks, and they were to charge them to me, as I had a claim on them of £7 6s. 8d. for salary, being dismissed without notice.
nothing was due to him—I asked him for his account—he gave it to me, and I paid him, and he receipted it—this is it; it is for £2 10s. and 10s. 9d. for 1 per cent, commission—his salary was at the rate of £40 a year—on the 17th he sent a solicitor's letter claiming £7 odd.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Hard Labour ,
MR. ROACH Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
FREDERICK WOOD (Detective P.). On 80th May I saw the prisoner in High Street, Brentford—I said, "You know me"; he said, "Yes"—I took him into custody on a charge of bigamy—I told him I was in possession of his marriage certificate.
Cross-examined. Inspector Morgan instructed me to arrest the prisoner—Mrs. Stokes had complained to the police, not as having committed bigamy—as far as I know the prisoner and Mrs. Stokes were living happily together—the prisoner was married to Theresa Elms in 1877—I have seen the certificate of her marriage with Thomas Russell—I have heard that the prisoner also married Emma Hollis—I have heard that Theresa Elms has since married another person—Mrs. Stokes was a widow when she married the prisoner—Theresa Elms and the prisoner were jointly tried at Northampton, and both were convicted of bigamy; the prisoner got three months and Elms two—when I arrested the prisoner he said, "I have suffered already; I have been put away by her friends"—he was a publican—I believe he was a bargee—he has been in custody a month—Theresa Elms is at present living at Stoney Stratford.
Re-examined. When I arrested the prisoner I told him I had made inquiries, and had been to the Registry Offices at Brentford and seen the certificate of marriage between him and Mary Ann Stokes, and that I also knew that his wife Theresa was alive—he said, "Yes, that is quite right; but remember I have suffered for one bigamy, and now I nave been put away by her friends and I don't care what you do with me; you can do what you like with me"—I obtained this certificate at the Registry Office.
JOHN CHURCH . I am a labourer, and live at Deanshanger, Northampton—I know the prisoner and his wife, Theresa Elms—I was present on 11th March, 1877, when he was married to her as Theresa Elms, of Potterspury, Northampton, at a meeting-house—I saw her last Saturday; she was living with a man named Russell at Stoney Stratford—she and the prisoner had lived together, I believe, for ten or twelve months—I produce the certificate of the marriage.
Cross-examined. I was best man at the wedding—they have not lived together for twelve years—I have not instituted these proceedings—I know he saw her about eight or nine years ago; he was along with me at the time.
JANE HARRIS . I am the wife of John Harris, a labourer, of 12, Ely Road, Brentford—I was present on 8th June, 1889, at the Registry Office, Brentford, when the prisoner was married to Annie Stokes—I have not seen her here.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. H. LEYCESTER Prosecuted.
WILLIAM CLUTTERBUCK SMITH . I am an oil and colour man at 686, Harrow Road—on 13th May Wells came in and asked me if I would change this cheque for £3 8s. for him—(The cheque was on the London and County Banking Company, Pentonville Road; May 8th, 1892, payable to Charles Wells)—it was endorsed when he brought it—I said I could not change it—he said, "Could you get it changed for me?"—I said I would try—I had known him for some time as an agent of Carter, Paterson and Co.—I said, "Is the cheque all right?"—the prisoner said, "Yes, I have had them before; they came from a friend of mine"—that was all that passed then—I got the cheque cashed within ten minutes after the prisoner left me by one of the Anglo-American Oil Company's drivers—I paid him an account of 11s. lid., and he gave me the difference—about three minutes afterwards the prisoner came back, and I gave him the change I had received, and made up the difference from my pocket, giving him the £3 8s.—I said in a careless way I hoped the cheque was all right—the prisoner said, "Yes, it is all right"—on 19th May I had the cheque back from the Anglo-American Oil Company, marked "No account"; and the same day the prisoner came in on his round directly after the cheque had been put on the counter—I called the prisoner across the shop and handed him the cheque, and asked him to look at it and to explain—he said, "I am very sorry; I believed the cheque to be good"; and he said he would try and get the money for me—I explained to him that I could not-possibly pay it myself—he went away promising to bring me the money—next day, the 20th, he brought me £2, and promised to give me the balance within a few days, as soon as possible—he came three times every day in the course of business, calling for orders and delivering goods—I asked him for the balance between 20th and 24th—on the 24th the police were in my back parlour—I saw the prisoner on my doorstep, and put my hand on his arm in a friendly way, and asked him to explain it—he told me to be b———, and got on his van and drove away—next morning I gave him in charge outside his residence—I went there with the police.
ALFRED PALK . I am manager to the Anglo-American Oil Company, Chalk Farm—I received this cheque from Clutterbuck Smith, and paid it into my bank, the National Provincial, Baker Street branch, through our carman—it came back marked "No account"—I took it to Mr. Smite, and while I was there the prisoner came in—I said to him, "Do you know the man who gave you the cheque?"—he said, "Yes, I knew him very well for two or three years; he was a traveller"; and I think he said where he lived—then the conversation turned upon how he should pay it—he said nothing more about the cheque itself—I went away, and heard no more about it—I have had the £3 8s. from Mr. Smith.
Hornsey—I had an account at the London and County Bank, which was closed in 1886, I believe—some blank cheques remained in my cheque-book—this cheque is out of my book; I have the counterfoil—I gave the blank form to Cole, who asked me for it—it was very unwise of me to do so, and I am very sorry I did it.
AUGUSTUS FREDERICK OUTRAM . I am a clerk at the King's Cross branch of the London and County Bank—we have no customer named Walsh, and we never had, so far as I know—on the 14th or 15th of May this cheque appears to have been presented, and sent back marked "No account.
JOHN GRAHAM . I am manager to the Singer Manufacturing Company, Westbourne Grove—I know Cole and his writing—the date of this cheque is in his writing, but not the body of it, nor the signature, to the best of my belief.
ROBERT PERROT (448 X). On the morning of 25th May I went with Smith to Wells's house—Smith said to him, "I will give you into custody for passing a fictitious cheque at my shop on 13th May"—the prisoner said,. "I paid you £2 of it; I am innocent, only I was mug enough to cash it for someone else"—I took him to the station, where he said, "My brother-in-law gave me the cheque to get cashed"—I cannot tell if Cole is his brother-in-law.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he cashed the cheque for Cole, his brother-in-law, not knowing it to be a fraud; and that after doing so he called, as he had done before, three times a day on Smith.
NOT GUILTY .
A detective sergeant stated that Cole had uttered nine cheques, amounting to. £26 11s., since about September last. COLE— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
CHARLES HERBERT HUNTER . I am an articled clerk to a solicitor, and live at Cathay House, Eltham—on 6th May, between one and two, I was in the billiard-room of the Palmerston, Bishopsgate Street—I hung this coat on a peg there—after playing billiards I looked for my coat and could not find it—I communicated with the police—on the following Monday I saw it at Bull's, a pawnbroker's close by—it was worth £3—I don't remember seeing the prisoner in the room. (The evidence of this and of other witnesses was interpreted to the prisoner.)
OTTO SESS . I am a baker, of 35, Campbell Street, Edgware Street—on 14th May the prisoner, whom I knew, sold me this pawnticket for 1s.—he said, "I have got a new coat in the pawnshop"—the same day I gave Sibst the ticket and the money to get the coat out—I waited outside the pawnbroker's while he went in—he came out without coat or ticket—I saw the prisoner the same evening, and asked him to go to the pawnshop—he said, "I will go next Saturday; I have got no time now"—he went with me the next Saturday—I remained outside.
OLIVER BULL . I am assistant to Mr. Bull, a pawnbroker, of 5, Bishopsgate Street Without—the prisoner brought this coat to pledge about two p.m. on 6th May—I knew him before as a customer—I advanced 6s. on it—certain information being given to me, I eventually
communicated with the police on the 7th—Abbott found the owner of the coat, and brought him to me—on Saturday night, 28th, the prisoner came in to say he had pledged the coat, and sold the ticket to another German (I think he is in Court), who produced it—on the previous Saturday a young fellow had come in with the ticket, and said he wished to take the coat out; the coat had already been given to the police—when the prisoner came in on the 28th I told him to wait a minute, and I would see if I could find the coat, and I went to the Police-station and brought back a constable—when the prisoner was charged he said he had bought the coat in January or February in Houndsditch for 15s.—it is about one hundred yards from the Palmerston to our place, I should think.
JOHN BATSON (963 City). On Saturday evening, 28th May, I was called to Mr. Bull's, where I saw the prisoner—Mr. Bull asked him where he had got the coat from; if he knew it was a stolen one—he said he did not—he said he bought it in February from a Jew in Houndsditch, and gave him 15s. for it—I took him to the station; he went quietly—he gave a correct address.
THOMAS FOULCHER (950 City). I was present at the station on 28th May, when inquiries were made, and the prisoner was searched—he said he did not know the Palmerston, and did not know where it was—he said, "I have never been there."
ERNEST MARX . I am a waiter at the Palmerston—I have seen the prisoner there for three months—I have seen him standing among other gentlemen looking on at the billiards under the arches there—he has not played at all.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he had pawned two coats: first, one which he had bought in January, and pawned in the Commercial Road, and secondly, one which he had bought from a man in Old Broad Street for 3s., and pawned with Mr. Bull for 6s., and that he had never been to the Palmerston. He argued that if he. had stolen the coat he should never have returned to Mr. Bull's.
NOT GUILTY .
610. WILLIAM HILLIER **† (21) and ARTHUR CLARK *† (20) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Demosthenes Papa, and stealing two spoons and other articles; also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Charles Stewart Carpenter, and stealing two waiters and other articles; and to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Joseph Arthur Moore, and stealing; a desk and other articles.
HILLIER also PLEADED GUILTY* to a previous conviction of burglary.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.
611. ARTHUR BAXTER (33) , to two indictments for forging and uttering an authority and requests for the payment of 13s., and also to obtaining from Bradbury, Greatorex, and Co 13s. and 13s. by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.
612. PATRICK MILLIGAN (23) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of the Rev. Archibald Down Shaw, and stealing two pairs of boots and other articles, the goods of James Kemp (see page 931). It was stated that the prisoner had given all the information he could, and the prosecution desired to recommend him to mercy.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months* Hard Labour upon each indictment. And
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, June 27th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
618. RICHARD ANDERSON* (29) and JOHN PITCHER** (27) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Thomas Reeves Knapp, and stealing goods to the value of £115; also to another burglary., and stealing a trunk and other articles, both having been previously convicted of felony. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.]
ANDERSON— Two Years' Hard Labour.
PITCHER— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
620. GEORGE STEVENS (38) , to stealing two blank cheques, the goods of Christopher Richard Ford ; also to uttering a forged order for £5 10s., with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Eight Months' Hard labour. And
(621). CHARLES GIMSON (64) , to forging and uttering the acceptance to a bill of exchange for £20; also the acceptance to a bill of exchange for £25, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BODKJN Prosecuted.
JAMES BALCHIN . I keep the Newton Arms, Newton Street—on Wednesday, 15th June, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale; he gave me a four-shilling piece—I put it in a glass with other silver, but there was no other four-shilling piece there.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It was about six o'clock—you were there about a minute and a half—I had never seen you before—I gave a description of you, and a trap was laid for you—I swear to you—I did not mark the coin, and do not swear to it—on the Friday night when I came home my daughter said, "I have had him locked up, and I believe he is the same man that done you"—I should know you out of a hundred.
GEORGE ALEXANDER ARMSTRONG . I live at 4, Ranelagh Road, Wood Green—on 15th June I was in the Newton Arms about eight o'clock—I had some refreshment, and paid with a half-sovereign, and in the change there was a four-shilling piece which I afterwards tendered at Islington to a barman, who called the manager, who broke it in my presence—I took the pieces back to the Newton Arms and gave them to Laura Balchin—I am sure it is the same coin—I had no other double florin.
LAURA BALCHIN . I am barmaid to my father—on 17th June, about nine p.m., the prisoner asked for a glass of ale; my sister served him—he gave her a five-shilling piece—I tried it with some acid, and found it was bad—I said, "Where did you get it?"—he said, "In Drury Lane—I said, "You had better take it back"—he said he could not afford to
lose it, and gave me twopence for the beer—I gave him the coin, but thought I had done wrong, and got it back again, and sent for a policeman.
Cross-examined. When I brought it back to you there was some acid on it—you said you took it from a bookmaker—you put it in your pocket, and took it out and showed to a young man, who put it to his teeth, and you said, "Don't bite it"—you were reading a paper while I was trying the money—you tried to get out, but I told you the door was locked on the other side—you said, "Don't lock me up"—I said, "Well, I shall"—you said, "I am willing to wait till the policeman comes"—I said that you answered the description my father gave me of the fellow who passed the bad four-shilling piece.
ELIZABETH AUSTIN . I keep a coffee-house at 31, Catherine Street—on 27th May the prisoner and a girl had supper at my house—he gave me this four-shilling piece; I gave him the change, and put it into the till, where there was only eighteenpence—he was in the shop nearly an hour—I looked at him because the girl had very bad eyes—I have no doubt about him—I saw him three weeks afterwards at the station; I at first said, "I think that is the man,"and then I said I was sure of it.
Cross-examined. You were placed with several other men—the inspector said, "If you are sure, touch him,"and I touched you—I found it was bad when I lit the gas—I was not told what sort of man was locked up for passing bad money—I looked at you because I thought you were a very respectable fellow to be with such a girl.
GEORGE WOOD (Police Inspector E). On 17th June, about nine p.m., a constable brought the prisoner to the station, and Laura Balchin charged him with passing a counterfeit crown—he said, "I took it from a bookmaker"—I found on him a metal chain, a pocket-book, and a piece of coal—he was placed with nine other men next morning, and Miss Austin identified him.
Cross-examined. She pointed to you, and said, "I think that is the man."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I plead not guilty to the one on the 27th May, and I did not know the other was bad. I was at work on 27th May, when the woman says I was in her shop. "He repeated the same statement in his defence, and added that he received the crown in payment of a bet.
GUILTY**— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROACH Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
624. WILLIAM MILLER (26) and JAMES ARNOLD (18) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of William Turvey, and stealing three. shirts and seventeen tame pigeons, his property, Miller having been previously-contacted. MILLER PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. TUDOR-HOWELL Prosecuted.
Road, Hackney—I had forty or fifty pigeons in my stable—a lot of them were in cages—the coachhouse opens into the house, and the stable is only a few feet off; you can do it in two steps—on 23rd May, between nine and ten p.m., the pigeons were all right, and there were two shirts of my son's and my grandson's on a line—about eight a.m. I went to let the pigeons out; the loose ones flew out, and I did not notice that those in cages had been taken—I found the gate to the street unbolted; something had been driven in which broke the bolts right away, and they had fallen on the ground, and a piece of wood had broken right away—I missed seventeen pigeons—the men had put on one of the shirts and left a dirty one behind—these three tame pigeons (produced) are mine—they left the valuable ones.
FREDERICK LISLE (506 J). On 23rd May, at 11.30, I saw the two prisoners in Pond Lane, a quarter of a mile from Mr. Turvey's, and said, "What are you doing so late at night?"—they said, "We are having a roam round"—I saw them again about 3.30 coming across the fields, carrying something dark between them—they went to a hoarding, and one got over, and in a few minutes returned again—when they saw me they returned in the opposite direction and hurried their pace—I caught them, and asked them what they were doing over the hoarding; they said they went to ease themselves—I met another constable and spoke to him—I took the prisoners to the station and returned to the hoarding, got over, and found seventeen pigeons in a sack; these are three of them—a candle was found on one of the prisoners—they were charged a week afterwards, and Mr. Turvey identified the shirts.
Arnold's Defence. Miller got over the hoarding and showed me seventeen pigeons and three shirts, and gave me a shirt. I asked him Where he was going, and went with him.
AKNOLD— NOT GUILTY .
MILLER— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. POLEY Prosecuted, and MR. BEARD Defended.
WILLIAM HENRY FORD (110 H). On May 28th, about one p.m., I was in upper East Smithfield, and saw the prisoner leading a horse and van laden with casks of butter—he saw me and left the horse, and dodged among the carts, but I caught him—he said he saw the horse walking along—the carman came up and charged him; I took him in custody.
DAVID HENRY BAILEY . I am carman to Mr. Mason—the 26th May I was in Upper East Smithfield, in charge of a van and five boxes of butter; when I came back the boy said that the van was gone—I had. never seen the prisoner before.
Cross-examined. Both I and the van guard were away, and there was no one to prevent the horse walking away.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BLACK Prosecuted.
June, about ten o'clock, I saw the prisoner in Kingsland Road with two others, passing the Duke of York public-house; they made a jump at me and knocked me down; I got the prisoner by his coat—I missed my watch, and found a piece of my guard hanging down, but afterwards I found my watch in my pocket; I do not know how it came there, but I saw him take it.
Cross-examined by the prisoner: You asked me what was the matter, but you hid yourself behind the urinal.
THOMAS LYNCH . I live at 15, E Block, Earl Street—on Whit-Monday night I saw the prisoner and two other men dancing round the prosecutor, who said suddenly, "You scoundrel! you have got my watch," and they fell in the road together—he wrenched himself away from the prosecutor and got behind the urinal, and put his hat over his eyes and came back—I said, "You are the man who has done this; you have got the man's watch"—he said, "Me, sir! I am just going home to supper"—I spoke to a constable, and said, "You had better look after that man; he has got another man's watch,"and the constable went up to him.
Cross-examined. I did not see you take the watch, or strike him, but you struggled with him.
FREDERICK FEATHERSTONE . I live at 23, Weymouth Terrace, Hackney—I was coming up Earl Street, and saw the prosecutor hanging on to the prisoner's coat, who struck him off, and ran behind the urinal for about a minute—he came out and went into the crowd again, and Pascoe said, "I have lost my watch; I believe you are the scoundrel who has got it."
TERESA CLARK . On 6th June I was in Kingsland Road with my young man, and saw the prisoner strike Pascoe*in the face and pull his chain—he reeled round and fell to the ground, holding the prisoner's coat—the prisoner ran behind the urinal and hid himself, and put his hat over his eyes—a crowd got round Pascoe, and the prisoner came out and pretended to be drunk, and went up to Pascoe and said, "What's up?"—Pascoe said, "You are the scoundrel who has just assaulted me"—he had his right hand closed—he wanted to get away, but a witness brought a policeman—he was close to Pascoe, he reeled up against him as if he was drunk, and Pascoe's chain was hanging down.
Cross-examined. I did not see you with a watch, but I saw your hand on the chain, and you drew the gentleman round with it.
Prisoner's defence. I never saw the watch.
GUILTY of assault, with intent to commit felony. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Worship Street on 26th August, 1889. Six Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
Mr. HUTTON, for the prosecution, offered no evidence on the Inquisition, the GRAND JURY having ignored the bill.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for unlawfully neglecting the said Susan Clark, under the age of sixteen, to which she PLEADED GUILTY .
Five Months' Hard Labour.
For other cases tried this day, see Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Fight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. H. AVORY Prosecuted, MR. HUMPHREYS Defended.
WILLIAM EDWABD PINDAR . I am secretary to the Waterbury Watch Company, Limited, 7, Snow Hill—on 10th July Heidenreich and Broski called, and Heidenreich said that Broski was a man with considerable means and a large export business, and he wished to purchase watches to export to the Balkan States—I said that we should only be able to supply him on condition that the goods should be shipped to the places he named, as we had agencies in all parts of the world—I made an appointment for him to see Mr. Rankin, the managing director, the next day, when they called again, and I introduced them. to Mr. Rankin—I was present at the interview, and this agreement was signed (Stipulating that the watches should be shipped to Roumania, Bulgaria, and Servia, under a penalty of 5s. for each watch told elsewhere)—on May 9th Mr. Lock called; he was an old customer; he brought the prisoner with him, who came in afterwards, and produced twenty-six watches—I told him Mr. Rankin was absent, and I could not find money enough to buy them till he returned, and arranged for them to come back at three o'clock, which they did, and in the meantime I communicated with the police—the prisoner said he had not enough money to pay his cab fare, and I gave him a sovereign, for which he gave me this receipt in the name of Jackson—I examined the watches, and compared the numbers with those which I had supplied to Droski and Heidenreich and found they were a portion of those watches—the prisoner and Lock returned at a little after three, and saw Mr. Rankin—Sergeant Pearce was waiting for them.
Cross-examined. We have many agencies throughout the world, but only one in England, which is at 435, West Strand—I had never seen the prisoner before—my suspicions were aroused by what Mr. Lock told me—even before they came into the shop I meant to trap him—it was true that I could not give him the money, but I should not have given it to him if I had had it—I do not know Mr. Gent-Heidenreich was convicted in November.
HENRY RANKIN . I am managing director to the Waterbury Watch Company—on 11th July Mr. Pindar brought Heidenreich and Broski to my room—Heidenreich said that Broski was engaged in exporting watches to the Balkan States, and desired to obtain some from us—we agreed to supply them at thirty and sixty days' credit, with references, as they said that the money was coming from abroad—an agreement was signed that day for 480, value £254 14s.—I have got the numbers of them—this is the order (produoed)—they were furnished by Mr. Parker to Mr. Boss to pack—on the 17th Broski gave me an order for samples to be supplied for Odessa, where he said he was a large property holder—he said that the first lot had been sent abroad—I have got the invoice of the 17th for eighteen watches, and one single watch at 17s. 6d., total £19 15s. 6d.—the numbers of the watches were entered, and they were sent off—on 21st July Broski came and gave me an order for 216 watches, value £114 1s. 6d.—this is the invoice, and I have got the numbers of them—they were sent off—on the 22nd there was a further consignment, amounting to £27 7s., and on the 24th Broski called and gave me an order for 408 watches, value £200 11s., and said that they must be ready the following day for shipment to Roumania—they were supplied—I took the numbers; this is the invoice—on 28th July Mr. Freeman called and showed me 354 watches, which were a portion of the last lot delivered on the 25th—I bought them, and paid him £128 16s. 6d. for them—I had sold them for £152, that was 15 per cent, less, four days afterwards—in consequence of what he said I applied to the police, and Heidenreich was arrested—I did not see Broski again—I wrote refusing to give further credit, and Broski paid me £95 on account, for which I supplied him with watches value £200 odd—I was present when Heidenreich was tried in this Court last November—on May 9th Mr. Pindar came to me, and I saw the prisoner at my office on Snow Hill—Pearce was present—the prisoner produced twenty-six of our watches in a parcel, and this one from his pocket, which made twenty-seven—he said he obtained them that morning from a man named Farrell at the General Post Office, and paid him £15 for them; that Farrell resided in Donald Street, Holloway, and offered to go there with me—he said he lived in Newington Causew✗—Sergeant Pearce then took him in charge—he said that Farrell had watches worth £50 or £60—I afterwards saw 690 watches at the Police-station, and compared the numbers—they were portions of the first three lots supplied to Broski up to July 21st, and were worth £360 or £370.
Cross-examined. Another jury has convicted Hendenreech—I never saw the prisoner or heard his name at that time—I have received 691 watches out of 1,130; we bought 354 from Mr. Freeman—there were nearly 1,000 altogether, and the other 130 we have not had back—Broski gave us some admirable references, but they were all victims the same as ourselves—I have not seen him lately—Louis Brackman has absconded; he is the prisoner's brother—I think the prisoner said he got the watches from Farrell that morning; I will not swear to the absolute words—I think Sergeant Pea roe took a note of the conversation—Broski described Farrell as a young man about twenty-five, with fair complexion, fair hair, and slender—I left the room once or twice to identify the watches, and Pearce may have heard more, than I did; I do not think he left the room—I have no feeling in this matter—I took the numbers of the watches at the station, and compared them with the entries made by Mr. Parker.
Re-examined. He said he obtained the watches from Farrell, who he had seen that morning, and to the best of my re collection he said he obtained them from Farrell that morning—the usual course is that the orders are sent out to Mr. Pindar, the clerk, who sends them to Mr. Parker, who sends them to the packer.
JOHN PARKINSON . I am assistant to Mr. Russell, a pawnbroker, of 120, Old Kent Road—on 4th May the prisoner pawned a silver Waterbury watch with me in the name of Jackson, 97, Stafford Street, for 10s.
Cross-examined. It might have been Stamford Street—I had never seen him before—I do not think he had a light coat on—I am about five minutes' walk from 262, Old Kent Road.
EDWARD SPRUNT . I am a pawnbroker, of 254 and 256, Old Kent Road—on 4th May the prisoner pawned a silver Waterbury, watch with me for 15s. in the name of George Jackson, 104, Stamford Street—I have it here—I believe Mr. Rankin saw it at the Police-court.
Cross-examined. No doubt persons pawning very often give a false address—this is the watch (produced)—Sergeant Brewer called, and I immediately gave notice that we had one.
Cross-examined. It is silver and keyless, and is worth 22s. or 23s. H. RANKIN (Re-examined). I have seen the watches produced by the last three witnesses; I identified them before the Magistrate as part of the watches supplied to Broski.
JOHN LOOK . I am a watchmaker, of 78, Tottenham Court Road—on 5th May the prisoner, who I did not know before, came and wanted to pledge a silver Waterbury watch for 12s.—I said that we did not take in pledges, and directed him to the nearest pawnbroker—he then offered me the watch for sale for £1, and said he paid 35s. for it—I said that 308. was the price they were usually sold at—I gave him 15s. for it; it was new—next day he came again with a traveller named Gent, who I had had dealings with, and offered me six Waterbury watches for sale—I said, "You were here yesterday, and said nothing then about having these"—he said, "I only sold that watch then because I wanted to get to know the value"—I said, "Where did you get them from?"—he said, "I bought them from a dealer"—I said, "Are there any more?"—he said, "Yes, there are about £60 worth"—I said, "What do you want for them?"—he said he would take 17s. 6d. each—I said it was funny, if he sold one for 15s., to raise the price for a quantity—he said he could not take less—I said, "They would not be worth more than 12s., buying a quantity"—he said, "Why, the Waterbury Company would give more than that"—I said, "Why don't you take them there and sell them?"—he said they would not buy them from him, he was not in the trade—I said, "You had better tell me the lowest price you will take, and I will submit the matter to them"—he said he would take 5 per cent, less, but 17s. 6d. was the price—I said, "Who am I to buy them from, you or Mr. Gent?"—he said, "You will buy them from Mr. Gent"—Mr. Gent
said, "You had better write to me at Hatton Garden"—I did not know the prisoner's address; he did not give me any name—he said, "How soon can you let me know?"—I said, "Not till to-morrow"—he said„ "Can't you let me know this afternoon?"—I said, "There will not be time"—they then left, and I communicated with the company the same day—the prisoner called next day, and said, "You are going to have the watches?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I will go and get them now"—that was Saturday—I said, I can only pay you by cheque, and I suppose you want the money?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Then you had better bring them on Monday"—he said he would, and came in a cab on Monday, and brought about £25 worth of watches—I said, "Will you want to be paid for them now?"—he said, "Yes"—I said. "You had better come with me to the Waterbury Company and get the money"—he said, "You said you would pay for the watches"—I said, "Yes, but the "Waterbury Company are buying them, and you must come there to get paid for them; here is your cab at the door, we can quickly get there"—he took the watches and went with me, and on the* way he said, "They won't do anything to me for having the watches?"—I said, "Well, if you got them honestly you have nothing to fear"—he said, "I bought them and paid for them"—I asked who he got them from—he said, "From a man over the water"—I said, "Well, we will get paid for these, and then we will go and get the remainder,"because he said there were £60 worth altogether—he said, "Well, you can't get them to-day, because the man is out of town; when we get there I shall say I got them from Gent"—I said, "You will do nothing of the sort; you will say where you got them from"—on arriving at Snow Hill I saw Mr. Pindar first, and afterwards introduced the prisoner—we went away, and returned in an hour, and saw Mr. Pindar and Mr. Rankin—Pearce was present—the prisoner said he bought the watches that morning of a man named Farrell outside the General Post Office—I am quite sure he said "that morning"—he said he knew the man, but did not know where he lived, and had no receipt.
Cross-examined. He gave no name on the first day, and I did not ask him for one on the second—I believe Gent is a respectable man; he is traveller for a firm which I deal with—I have bought watches before of men who came in in a casual way, but not Waterbury ones—he told me that Mr. Gent was going to get half-a-crown out of each watch, and if I did a certain amount of business he would give me the half-crown instead of Gent—I put the watches behind my counter, and we went off to the Company together—Pearce and another officer were there—I did not ask him Farrell's address—I only bought one watch.
Re-examined. When he said he got the watches from a man over the. water, he did not say from Gent—Gent brought him to me, and introduced him, and said he had six watches for sale; but the prisoner said I was to buy them from Gent—I had not suggested that anything could be done to him for being concerned in the watches.
MINNIE BRACKMAN . I am the wife of Louis Brackman, the prisoner's brother, and live at 47, Ronald's Road, Highbury—Bertha Brackman is the prisoner's and my husband's sister—I have seen Samuel Heidenreich once or twice at my husband's mother's house, but not at the prisoner's house—in October and November last year I was living at 12, Witherington. Road—that is near Ronald's Road—Bertha Brackman came there at the
end of October or the beginning of November, and brought half a dozen boxes—I didn't know what was in them—they were afterwards taken to 47, Ronald's Road, and the police took them away, three from the coal cellar and the rest from upstairs—I had them opened, saw that they contained watches, and gave them up to the police.
Cross-examined. I do not know where my husband is now; there is a warrant out against him—I believe the prisoner lives with his mother in Amherst Road, Hackney—he has only been to my house once—I was then ill, and he came to see me—I never knew that he saw the watches, but he has seen the boxes; I was in bed—I had them opened once, and they were nailed down again—my husband was present when they were opened, no one else—I know it was the prisoner who brought the police to my house—I am a Christian, and my husband is a Jew—the prisoner in a Jew—I have not at all times been very friendly with his family; there was a disagreement between us—I do not know what relation Heidenreech is to my husband—I was present at the interview in Ronald's Road when the prisoner brought the police there—I do not know the prisoner's writing—I think this (produced) is my husband's writing.
Re-examined. I last saw my husband write on the day the boxes were taken from the house, May 9th—I have never seen him since—the prisoner sat on the boxes—we were all sitting in the kitchen.
ALFRED PEARCE (Police Sergeant H). I had the conduct of the case against Heidenreech at the trial here on November 16th and 17th. (See Vol. CXV., page 18)—I saw Bertha Brackman here—I saw the prisoner with her on January 21st at Leman Street Station; that was the first time I saw him—they came there, and the prisoner asked for all the property belonging to Heidenreich, but I told him I could only give him up a special contract note of a watch and chain—Bertha Brackman said she was a cousin of Heidenreich, and was engaged to be married to him, and that the prisoner was her brother—I gave the prisoner the special contract note, and he gave me this receipt (produced)—I saw him write it in this book, which is kept at the station—it is "Louis Brackman, 66, Englefield Road, Canonbury"—on 9th May, about 2.30 p.m., I went to the office of the Waterbury Watch Company, and shortly afterwards the prisoner came in—I saw him in Mr. Rankin's presence, and took the conversation down at the time—I said, "Will you explain how you became possessed of the watches?"—he said, "I got them from Mr. J. Farrell, who I met outside the General Post Office bout 10.30 this morning, for £17"—I said, "Do you know where Farrell lives?"—he said, "I don't know his address; it is somewhere in Newington Causeway"—I said, "We are police-officers, and shall take you in custody for receiving watches knowing them to have been fraudulently obtained"—he repeated his statement, and added, "Farrell told rue he had bought up a lot of watches cheap, and asked me to buy them at 12s. 6d.; I agreed to buy them; I have sold only one to Mr. Lock, for which he paid me 15s."—I asked if he could find Farrell—he said, "I can take you to him; I do not know his address; it is somewhere in Newington Causeway"—we started to find Farrell, and in Aldersgate Street he said, "Well, the whole thing is blown; I may as well come the lot; we must go to Donald's Road, Highbury"—I understood that to mean that he would tell me all he knew—we went there to No. 27, where his father
lived, and in the kitchen I found three oases of watches—I saw Minnie-Brackman, and in the coal cellar I found three cases containing watches—I also found about three dozen in a drawer in a bedroom on the first floor—I took him to Leman Street Police-station, where he was detained—when he was charged he said, "I have nothing more to say now"—I asked him his name at the company's office—he said, "William Jackson, "but he gave the name of William Brackman at Snow Hill—I found a Waterbury watch on him, and a prescription in Russian or German, with the name of Heidenreioh on it—I did not hear Donald 's Road mentioned at Snow Hill.
Cross-examined. I made this note during the conversation—it did not strike me as important that he said he got the watches that very morning—I understood him that he got them from Farrell, who he met that; morning—there is a warrant out against Louis Bracknell; it was applied for on May 10, the day after the watches were found—I have never seen him since—he was a lodger at the house at Highbury where the watcher-were found; the prisoner never lived there—I am informed that Louis Brackman is his elder brother; I have never seen him to my knowledge—I know nothing against the prisoner—Louis Brackman was not present at Heidenreich's trial, but Bertha was—this note is accurate as far as is goes, but I did not put everything down—somebody has told me that this is a prescription—Heidenreich's name is Samuel; this is not Samuel, it is "Hew"—I do not know the Hebrew for Jackson—about twenty minutes after he gave the name of Jackson he gave the name of Braokman—I did not hear all he-said to Mrs. Brackman at the house—she was ill, and he asked me to let him speak to her before I saw her—she was well enough to be downstairs—we went into the first floor from,—I found some watches in the kitchen and some in a drawer in the bedroom occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Brackman—she opened it and gave me the watches; he was down in the kitchen at the time—"I will come the lot" is not the expression of old thieves—I should not be very much surprised if his Lordship used it, it is an expression anybody might us—Tasked the prisoner at the station if he could give me any assistance and he told me he would do all he could—it was through his information that 691 watches were recovered—he told me his brother Louis had been ill—I believe Louis is a furrier in Jewin Street.
Re-examined, My note does not contain everything that was said; it does not mention that he gave the name of William Brackman—I thought I knew his face, and he recalled to my mind the fact of his having gone to Leman Street Police-station.
THOMAS CANNON (Police Sergeant H). I was with Pearce at Snow Hill when the prisoner was arrested, and heard him give his name, William. Braokman—I was out of Court, and did not hear him say anything about seeing Pearce before.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Nine Month' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, June 29th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
630. CHARLES HENRY WILSON (44) PLEADED GUILTY to marrying: Minnie Welde, his wife being then alive; also to obtaining six rings and other articles from William Kirkham, and other articles from other persons by false pretences, with intent to defraud, and also to three indictments for forging and uttering cheques for the payment of money.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
631. JOHN ENWRIGHT (32) , to committing acts of gross indecency with John Walsh and with another person; and exposing himself in a public place.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.
633. CHARLES BENJAMIN RADCLIFFE (20) , to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £80, with intent to defraud; also to obtaining £4 by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Four Months' Hard Labour.
For cases tried in this Court this day, see Surrey cases.
OLD COUET.—Thursday, June 30th, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
— GUILTY .— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
For other cases tried this day, see Surrey cases.
NEW COUET.—Thursday, June 30th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. ARMSTRONG Prosecuted. HENRY HODGSON. I am an inquiry agent, of 4, Harmer Street, Finsbury—on 23rd May, about eleven p.m., I was in Aldersgate Street, and saw four men on the edge of the pavement; they divided, and two stood in front and two behind; the one on the right side made a snatch at my chain, and it broke—it was a large double gold Albert, with trinkets attached, and a silver lever watch in my left pocket, and a pedometer in the right; he broke the right-hand portion of the chain, and ran up a court—the prisoner stood on my left, touching me and covering him—I stopped to pick up the bar of my chain, and then ran up the court after the four of them—three of them stopped half-way up the court, and I stopped too; they then ran again—this is my chain (produced)—the trinkets are here, they were hanging from the bar, and the pedometer was left in my pocket—I returned into Aldersgate Street and tried to find a constable, but could not—I returned to the court and met Alder, and we went to Shaftesbury Place, but did not see the prisoner; we then went into the court, and I saw him standing there, and said,
That is one of them"—he ran up Shaftesbury Place, and the policeman and I followed him, but lost him in the court—the policeman went to a house and fetched another constable—a woman opened the door, but I did not go in—it was the first house in Shaftesbury Place—the piece of chain I lost was worth over £4—I am sure the prisoner is the man, I identify him by his height, his prominent cheek-bones, and his nose and features.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were not standing with your back to the lamp-post and your arms folded, when I came up—I was in the court for a minute or so before you made your appearance—no one was boxing when I got into the court.
By the COURT. He was not there when I went into the court, but I went under the lamp-post, and observed him against the lamp-post.
GEORGE ALDER (169 City). On 23rd May I was on duty in uniform in Hamsell Street, 500 or 600 yards from Aldersgate Street, and saw four men running—they came near me, and three of them passed me at a walk—the prisoner was one of them; I had seen him before—I went into Maidenhead Court, and Hodgson complained to me—I went to Charlotte Place, and saw the prisoner come there alone—Hodgson said, "That is one of them"—the prisoner heard that, and ran into 23, Shaftesbury Place, and closed the door—I had some difficulty in getting in, but I got another constable, and a female opened the first floor window and said, "There is no man here,"but Mrs. Seymour opened the door, and I went in, and the prisoner opened the room door—he said, "I was in bed"—he had his coat and boots off—he"said, "You don't want me for boxing?"—I said, "No; I want you for being concerned with others in robbing a gentleman"—he said, "Oh, if you don't want me for boxing I can get out of the other"—I took him to the station, but found nothing on him—he said he had just got up.
Cross-examined. I did not stop you, because I did not know what you were running for; I thought you were larking.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he had been boxing, and went home at 10.10.
Witnesses for the Defend,
FREDERICK NEGUS . I am a manufacturing chemist out of employment; I am in Herring's, of Aldersgate Street—I live at 12, Shaftesbury Place—I was with the prisoner on this night; I don't know the date—we were at the King's Arms at 8.10, and at 10.10 we were at Shaftesbury Place, and my brother went' and got the gloves, and the prisoner and I commenced boxing—Alder, the policeman, came up, and Hodgson pointed to the prisoner and said, "That is one of them"—the prisoner ran away with the boxing-gloves on—this was about 11.5.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner a long time—George Negus is my brother, and Alexander and John Brown are friends of mine—we went to the King's Arms about 8.10, and left and began boxing about 10.10—I was with the prisoner all the evening; I met him at the bottom of Shaftesbury Place about 8.5 with my brother and the two Browns, and went with them to the King's Arms—before that I had been with another friend, Joseph Newton—he is not here; he is' at work—Emily Shears and another young woman, whose name I do not know, went into the King's Arms with us, and left with us—they are not here—they stood at the bottom of the place about three minutes—
they saw us get the gloves—my brother fetched the gloves from our house, and I boxed with the prisoner from 10.10 till 10.55, when the police and the prosecutor came up the place—I heard the prosecutor say, "That is the man,"pointing to the prisoner, who ran away because he thought the policeman was coming to stop the boxing—I had not time to run away, but I got the gloves off—the policeman was between us and the entrance to the court.
ALEXANDER WILLIAM BROWN . I am porter and packer to Stephenson and Blake, of 22, Shaftesbury Place, Aldersgate Street—I was with the prisoner on the night of 23rd May—I first saw him in the King's Arms about 8.45—we stopped about an hour and a half, and then went to Shaftesbury Place—we were talking for a little time, and then George Negus proposed boxing—I stood by the lamp, and said, "You had better stop boxing; a policeman is coming"—a policeman and Hodgson came up, and next morning I found the prisoner's gloves in my back yard.
Cross-examined. I am not a friend of the prisoner—I am a brother of John Brown, and went with him to the King's Arms, and found the prisoner there—before that I had been with my aunt and my brother at the Raglan—I left off work about seven o'clock, and met my brother in Aldersgate Street about eight o'clock—I had met my aunt before that Fred Negus boxed with the prisoner—I did not hear the prisoner propose boxing till the gloves were brought—I heard Hodgson say, "That is the man"—the prisoner was the nearest to the policeman; he walked away first, and ran afterwards, because he was boxing—I never saw anybody taken up for boxing—Fred Negus had not time to run away; there was a dead wall, and he would have had to run to get past the constable—we left the public-house about 10.10, and came up in groups of two and three—Fred Negus had the gloves on when the prosecutor came up; ho had not time to take them off.
By the JURY. The same pair were boxing about twenty-five minutes.
GEORGE NEGUS . lama wire-worker, and live in the same house with my brother—on 23rd May I met the prisoner at 8.45, and we went to the King's Arms, Aldersgate Street, and then to the bottom of Shaftesbury Place—he proposed boxing, and I went and got the boxing gloves—he and my brother Frederick put them on—Hodgson and a policeman came up the court, and Hodgson said, "That is one of them"—the prisoner went up the"place with his arms folded, and Hodgson ran after him—the policeman followed; I lost sight of the prisoner.
Cross-examined. We came out of the King's Arms about 10, 15, and passed Maidenhead Court and the bottom of Shaftesbury Place—I left work at 830, met the prisoner at 8.45, and did not lose sight of him till he ran away—I work at Cock Lane. Smithfield—I went home before going to the Kind's Arms—I found Fred Negus, John Brown, and the prisoner in the King's Arms—it is not true that I went there with them at 8.10—I did not leave work till half-past—I was in there about an hour and a half—Miss Shears and a friend of hers, Miss Eva, were with us—they left before we did; I am quite sure of that—they did not leave with us—I saw them at the bottom of Shaftesbury Place; they remained there a few minutes—they were not there when the boxing went on—the prisoner proposed boxing; not I—he asked my brother to box with him—they boxed till about 10.20—you can go to the King's Arms from
Shaftesbury Place without passing through Maidenhead Court—Shaftesbury Place is no thoroughfare; it does not open into Maidenhead Court—the two females left before us, and we met them again afterwards—I was surprised to see the prisoner run away; I did not think he would run away when he was only boxing.
JOHN BROWN . I am an oilman, of 23, Shaftesbury Place—on Monday evening, 23rd May, I met the prisoner in the King's Arms about nine o'clock, and left with him about 10.20, and walked to Shaftesbury Place—we passed the bottom of Maidenhead Court, but not through it—the prisoner then proposed boxing, and George Negus went and brought a pair of boxing gloves—Fred Negus put on one pair, and the prisoner the other—they were boxing about twenty minutes, and a constable and Hodgson came up the place—Hodgson said, "That is one of them,"and with that the prisoner ran up the place, and the constable followed him to the door where he lived, and asked for him—he said, "Are you going to take me for boxing?"—he said, "No"—I did not hear the constable tell him the charge, because they were in the passage.
Cross-examined. I am a brother of Alexander Brown, and work at 32, Aldersgate Street, but I have been away since; I am working now at Black wall, at Mr. Pearson's—I left work at eight o'clock that evening, and met my aunt, Mrs. Miller, and my brother; he was standing with her outside the shop where I used to work—I went with her and her daughter and my brother to the Baglan, and after nine o'clock I went into the King's Arms with my brother—the prisoner was there, and George and Fred Negus, and one. or two others whose names were not given at Guildhall—the prisoner's Wife and another young woman named Eva were there in the next bar—we all left together about 10.20—I think the young women left after us, as I did not see them leave, but they came up to the place after us—we five men walked together—the other men might have seen the young women at Shaftesbury Place without my seeing them; I don't know whether they did—the prisoner first proposed boxing, and George Negus fetched the gloves—they boxed rather more than twenty minutes—they began about 10.30 or 10.35; not before 10.30—it would be wrong to say that it was 10.10—when the prisoner ran away I waited till the policeman ran up the place, and I walked up after him and stood at the comer for, I daresay, ten minutes—the prisoner ran away because he had been boxing—Fred Negus could have run away, but I don't think there was any need—he was not in a worse place for running away than the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence. I ask you whether you think it was me who did it, and whether you think I am guilty of it; I was not in sight at all.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COLLINS Prosecuted, and MR. KYD Defended.
WILLIAM SMITHER . I am a carrier, of 1, Well Street East—on June 9th, about eleven o'clock, I was in Leman Street, and was seized from behind, kicked on my ankle, and thrown down, my pockets emptied, and my watch and chain and eyeglass taken, I had £3 or £4 in my
purse—I got the keys back; they were registered in the Key Bureau—one loose key was picked up on the spot; the inspector pave it to me—several people wore round me—I cannot recognise the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I was alone—the first thing I felt was an arm round my neck—I was kicked very badly on my ankle—I have not seen my watch and chain again—there were not many people about—I am rather deaf, and people might follow me without my hearing it—I was very much stunned by the fall.
GEORGE ROSE . I am a cellarman, of Fanshawe Street—I was in Leman Street on this night with Mr. Connor, and saw Mr. Smither in the distance, and half a dozen men surrounding him—I saw him thrown down, and we helped to pick him up and take him home—I picked up a walking-stick, a hat. a cigar, and a handkerchief, and my mate picked up the prosecutor's hat.
Cross-examined. I have no idea who knocked him down—the prisoner was without a hat at the station—I was twenty or thirty yards off when Smither was knocked down—I did not see Sarah Angelo there.
JAMES CONNOR . I am a carman, of 75, Oakley Street—on the night of June 9th I was with Rose; I was not close enough to see Smither knocked down, but I saw three men surrounding him; he was lying on his back—the prisoner was struggling to get away from him—the prisoner's hat fell off as I went to take him, and I picked it up and kept it, and said to the inspector, "I have got his hat"—he went away, and the inspector went after him and took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Other people came up when they heard the inspector's whistle—two persons ran away, and the prisoner would have got away if I had not held him till the inspector came up.
Cross-examined. The inspector went after him, and caught him in Cartwright Street, 200 or 300 yards from where Mr. Smither was knocked down—I caught the prisoner for a moment, but I could not look after the hat and the master too.
JAMES FLANAGAN (Police Inspector H). I was in Leman Street, and saw a scuffle outside the Brown Bear—I ran across the road, and saw Mr. Smither on his back on the pavement; his waistcoat undone, and the prisoner kneeling on his left side, with his right hand in Mr. Smither's trousers pocket, and another performing another operation on the left side—there were several men and women there—I caught hold of the prisoner and the other man by their collars, one with each 'hand, but they wrenched themselves from my grasp, and the prisoner ran down Leman Street; I pursued him; he was without a hat; he ran down an archway on the left side—I caught him again, but did not get a proper hold of him, and he slipped from my hand, and ran along the archway again, and along Royal Mint Street—I whistled, and called, "Stop thief!"—he ran into Glasshouse Street, and another officer stopped him—he said, "Don't choke me; I have done nothing"—I had not lost sight of him—Connor gave me the hat; I gave it to the prisoner next day at the station; it fitted him, and he wore it at the Police-court—I did not see him throw anything away, but he might have—Constable Tittle gave me this key; he was there when the prisoner was caught.
Cross-examined. Several men were round Mr. Smither, and they all ran away—I did not see where the others went—I gave the hat to the
prisoner in the dock, and he examined it and put it down by his side—seven or eight or more people, including some women, were standing round Smither when he was on his back—I was the first person who caught hold of the prisoner—I did not see anyone else catch hold of him—I did not notice Sarah Angelo there—nothing was found on the prisoner which he was accused of stealing—the constable simply caught hold of him by the arm, and he said, "Don't strike me; I have done nothing"—neither of us had got him round the neck.
Re-examined. I chased him from the first, and never chased anybody else—there were not more people when the scuffle was going on; the thing was so quick—as soon as I caught hold of the two men the seven or eight people who were there ran in all directions.
SARAH ANGELO . I am the wife of Philip Angelo, a French seaman, and live at 208, St. George's in the East—on the night of 9th June I was in Leman Street, and saw the prisoner there—he struck Mr. Smither, who fell down; he winded him—I saw a man pick him up—I asked him if he had lost anything—he said his watch and chain.
Cross-examined. I was frightened to go before the Magistrate next day because I was threatened—I have seen that sort of thing before in that neighbourhood—I was frightened because there was such a crowd—when I was before the Magistrate I did not say that the prisoner winded Mr. Smither—he was down on his knees after he was struck—no one else was down on his knees—I did not see anybody catch hold of the prisoner; he ran—I did not see Mr. Connor or Mr. Hose—there were not so many as seven or eight people outside the Brown Bear—I did not see the prisoner disappear round a corner—I saw another one running.
Re-examined. I was threatened the same night and the next morning if I went up what they would do for me—I have been threatened quite recently, but not to-day—I know the east part of London well, and have often seen people knocked about there—I was frightened.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY**! to a conviction at Clerkenwell on 23rd November, 1885, of stealing a watch from the person, after a previous conviction.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, June 30th, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. COLLINS Prosecuted.
SARAH RIDOUT . I am a widow, living at 25, Gainsborough Road, Hackney—shortly after three a.m. on 11tn June I was awakened by a scratching or tapping noise, and thinking that something was wrong I got up and looked out of my bedroom window, and saw the prisoners in the garden; I saw them quite plainly; I am quite sure they are the men—I went to the front of my house, and saw a constable coming over
the bridge, and I called to him—the constable directly ran in the direction of our garden-wall; looked over it, and then went down to a side street, and captured the prisoners at 74, New Windsor Road—I never lost sight of them from the time I saw them in the garden till I saw the policeman meet them; I did not see him capture them—when I came own I found the door leading from the cellar to the garden had been broken open by breaking off the bolt, and the window was broken open—the door and window had been safe the night before at twelve; the beading on each side of the door leading from the cellar to the kitchen had been cut away—I found this chisel, which does not belong to me, on the mat in the scullery; a pair of steps, a plate, and a strainer had been removed from the cellar into the garden; this tickler found on Ruston is my property—I remember Smith being in the house on Friday night from eleven to half-past eleven, and Ruston had been there during the week, using the house in the ordinary way.
Cross-examined by Huston. I saw you run from the direction of my cellar; Smith got out of the garden first, and you followed.
JOSEPH PRAGNALL (532 J). About 3.30 a.m. on 11th June I heard cries of "Police I"shouted over a wall in Plover Street—I ran and looked over the wall, and saw the prisoners jumping from the back garden of 25, Gainsborough Road—I chased them across several gardens to the back of Saunders Road, where Ruston rushed at me and struck me a heavy blow on the forehead—I seized him; he tried to get away—Smith came to me, and putting his hand in his pocket, said, "If you touch me I will blow your brains out"—I seized them; they both tried to get away, and to open the front door of a house—we got into the passage—I kept them till a man came to my assistance—I put my whistle to my mouth; Ruston took it and threw it up the staircase, breaking the chain in two places—I found this tickler in Ruston's breast pocket—afterwards I went back to the house, and found it had been broken into.
Cross-examined by Huston. I jumped on the wall, and saw you both quite plain—I am quite sure I saw you and Smith in the yard—I chased you.
Re-examined. I found nothing on Smith with which he could have blown my brains out.
JOHN WILLIAM GREEN . I live at 2, Plover Street, and am a coachman—about half-past three a.m. on 11th June I was awoke by my dog barking—I got out of bed and looked out of window, and saw the constable chasing the men over a number of gardens from the direction of Gainsborough Road, on the road to 74, New Windsor Road—as soon as the constable got over Ruston ran at him, and at the same time I heard someone say, "If you lay hands on me I will blow your brains out"—I partly dressed and went downstairs, and got over a number of gardens at the back of 74, New Windsor Road, and going through the door I saw the constable and the two prisoners struggling in the passage near the front door—I held Ruston, and handed him over to another constable.
Cross-examined by Huston. The constable chased you into the garden of 74, New Windsor Road—when I first saw you you were about two gardens off No. 74, and the constable might have been a few yards further off—you were facing each other—I saw you run at the constable I did not see you strike him; I only saw the heads and shoulders of you. and the constable.
Smith. I plead guilty to breaking and entering the house, but not to knocking the constable about.
Ruston, in his defence, said that he was going home, that he saw Smith jumping out of the garden, and that he afterwards taw another man come out of a washhouse carrying his boots in his hand; that he chased Smith, and caught up to him; that Smith dropped the tickler, which he (Ruston) picked up, and that then the constable came up and seized them both.
GUILTY .—RUSTON then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in October, 1888, at this Court.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
SMITH**— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
The Jury commended the conduct of Pragnall and Green, and the Court, concurring in this, awarded them 40s. each.
MR. KYD Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended,
CORNELIUS MADDEN . I live at 8, Half Moon Lane, Holborn, and am a labourer—on 7th June I was in a public-house with Scully; we came out at closing-time, and stood outside for a few minutes—the prisoner deliberately rushed across from the opposite side, knocking Scully down—I said, "Don't hit an old man; he is old enough to be your father; come on, Scully"—I have known the prisoner for years—I and Scully turned towards Gray's Inn Road, and I received a stab* in the back—I said to Scully, "I have got it"—I turned, but could not see the prisoner; it was a dark place—I fell down; Scully picked me up, and took me to the hospital, where my wound was bandaged.
Cross-examined. I had known the prisoner for seventeen years, and had never had a quarrel with him—this was on Whit-Tuesday night—I had not left the wool warehouse, where I have worked for eighteen years, till half-past ten—the prisoner was not allowed to go into the Grapes, because of causing violence to the landlord before—I bore the prisoner no ill-will—after going to the hospital I insisted on leaving, to arrest the prisoner—the doctor said he would not answer for me if I did leave—I used to go to the hospital every morning—the prisoner was very drunk.
Re-examined. I was in the hospital for an hour or two; when I came out I spoke to a constable, and we went to the prisoner's house.
CHARLES SCULLY . I live at 7, Half Moon Lane—on Whit-Tuesday I was in the Grapes with Madden—at half-past twelve we came out, and were speaking when the prisoner rushed on me and knocked me down—neither of us had spoken to him—Madden asked me to get up; I could not, as I had hurt my leg—Madden was going to pick me up, and he turned round and halloaed out, "Scully, I have got it"—I said, "What is it?"—he put his hand down his trousers and pulled it out covered in blood—I went to the station with him—I saw no more of the prisoner till they arrested him.
STEPHEN CHAPMAN (61 G). At a quarter-past two a.m. on 8th June the prosecutor came and told me he had been stabbed in the back by Lascelles—I went to a house and saw the prisoner on the ground floor back room—I asked the prosecutor if that was the man who had stabbed him; he said "Yes"—when charged by the prosecutor the prisoner said nothing—at the station he said, "When I come out I will b——y well do for you right out."
Cross-examined. He had been drinking; he was perfectly sober.
JAMES HUTCHINSON . I am a surgeon, at Percy Circus, Clerkenwell—I was called to the Police-station to examine the prosecutor, and found him suffering from an incised wound in the back, which had already been dressed—it was on a level with the lower angle of the shoulder-blade, immediately on the left of the spine—it was deep—it might have been inflicted with a knife.
Cross-examined. I said last Wednesday that in my judgment it ought to be quite well in a few days—he will not suffer any permanent injury from it, I think.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I don't remember anything about it."
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SOOTH Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HEDDON Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HEDDON Prosecuted. GUILTY of indecent assault.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
645. HENRY FREDERICK BENSON GOODWIN (60) and HENRY WILLIAM BROWNJOHN (43) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully conspiring to obtain and obtaining goods and moneys from various persons by false pretences, with intent to defraud. GOODWIN was also charged in the indictment with having been convicted of obtaining money by false pretences in February, 1880, to which he pleaded
RICHARD HUMPHRIES . I am a Sessions warder at Pentonville Prison—I produce the certificate of conviction of Alfred Goodwin for obtaining goods by false pretences on 23rd February, 1880; he had ten months at Middlesex Sessions font, and did the whole of that time in Coldbath Fields, where I was warder—I saw him almost daily there—I know him previously in November 1986.
GOODWIN— Five Years' Penal servitude.
BROWNJHON— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, July 1st, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. W. H. LEYCESTER Prosecuted, and MR. T. C. JARVIS appeared for Munro.
MR. LEYCESTER offered no evidence against Munro, who was acquitted.
HENRY DAVID RUSKIN . I did live at 12, Mead Street, Bono, but hare moved, and am now working at a public-house—on 26th May last I was out of work—I have known Briggs about' a fortnight—I was with him on 26th May—I met him in Brown's public-house about half-past six in the evening—Munro was with him, and a man they call"Hearthrug"—we went to the North Pole public-house in the New North Road, and then went for a walk round by the Agricultural Hall—opposite the hall there was an old gentleman going past, wearing a watch and chain—Briggs said to me, "You take his watch and chain and run away, and I will knock him down"—I said, "No; I expect to have work soon"—we then took a turning to the left into Essex Road, where there is a bridge over the canal—we stood there talking—I had my back against the parapet of the bridge—Briggs was standing in front of me, and he took me up by the waist and threw me over the bridge—I thought he was only larking, and I laid hold of the bridge with my hands; he knocked my hands off, one at a time, with his own hands, and I went down into the water—it was a drop of seventeen feet from the parapet—I can't swim; I tried to get out, and halloaed as loud as I could, and a lady who was there halloaed out as well—it awoke a man who was in a barge there, and he came and got me out—I had gone under water twice—I was taken into a public-house, and while I was there a policeman came in—later the same night, about half-past two, I went to Munro's house, and then to Briggs's lodgings in Hoxton, with a policeman—he was in bed (it was about eleven when I was thrown over the bridge)—the policeman told him what he wanted him for—he said, "I don't know the man; I don't know anything about it; I don't know what you mean."
Cross-examined by Briggs. You were in Brown's public-house about four o'clock that day with about six more, playing cards—we had some drink, then went to the North Pole and played skittles for two or three hours, and had drink—we had no angry words—we were all getting pretty jolly—you were sober—I think you threw me over the bridge intentionally because I would not do the action you told me to do.
ANNIE WOODS . I am single—I live at 48, Noel Street, Islington—on the night of 26th May, about five minutes to eleven, I was on the canal bridge in Essex Street—I saw three men standing, one in the middle—I cannot recognise them, I was at the back of them—I heard one say, "You b——, go over"—it was said in a very cross tone—I saw the man go over, and the others walked deliberately away—I could not see how happened to go over, I was too frightened—I cried "Murder!"as loud as I could, and the man in the water said, "Help me"—somebody came up and I asked them to help, and the boatman came and pulled him out with his boat hook.
Kent—on the night of 26th May I wan asleep on board my barge in the Regent's Canal—I heard cries of "Murder!"—I got out of bed and went forward, and saw a man overboard—I got my hitcher, and jumped ashore, put the hitcher under his arm and pulled him out, and got him to; he was very much exhausted—I stood him up for a little while, and they came and fetched him away—the canal there is about 5 ft. deep, or a little more.
RICHARD BOLDERO (Police Sergeant G 22). About 2.30 in the morning of 27th May I went with the prosecutor to 37, Monmouth Street, Hoxton, and there found Briggs in bed—I said I should take him into custody for throwing the man into the canal—he replied, "Well, that's a fine thing"—I took him to the station, where he was charged with attempt to murder—he made no reply.
RICHARD DAYBALL (Inspector G). I was on duty at the Old Street Police-station when Briggs was brought in—I told him the charge, and cautioned him—he replied, "This man must have some spite against me; I never saw him in my life till he came to my bedroom with the policeman"—I entered the charge and read it over to him—he made no reply—Munro afterwards made a statement in Briggs's presence; he said nothing, to it.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor had a different suit of clothes on when he was brought to the station about half-past two; his own things were wet.
Briggs's Defence. I plead guilty to a common assault, but I had no intention whatever of doing the man any bodily harm; I had been drinking all the morning, from half-past seven till this occurred. I never had an angry word with the man. I wish Munro to be called.
HENRY MUNRO . I was with Briggs from about twelve in the day; he was not quite sober then—Buskin came in with a friend, and we all went and played skittles, and had some liquor at the North Pole—we afterwards walked about, and stopped talking on the bridge, and Briggs took hold of Buskin; I thought they were larking—I did not know any more till I was taken out of my bed about 1.30—I did not hear Briggs make any remark outside the Agricultural Hall about wanting an old gent's watch and chain—Buskin said at the Police-court that he believed it was in consequence of that conversation that Briggs threw him into the water.
By the COURT. I am a professional boxer.— NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for assaulting the said Henry David Ruskin and occasioning him actual bodily harm, to which he PLEADED GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, July 1st, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
647. JAMES SYLVANUS HEWETT (32) was indicted for several offences under the Bankruptcy Acts.He PLEADED GUILTY to the Fifth Count, which charged him with unlawfully attempting to account for part of his property by fictitious losses.— Discharged on his own recognisances to £50 to come up for judgment when called upon.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted, and MR. BEARD Defended, R OBERT JOHN MARKS. I am a director of the Sunday Telegraph Company, Wine Office Court, Fleet Street—the prisoner came there in answer to an advertisement, and I arranged to give him 20 per cent, commission for canvassing for orders—I paid him £8 7s. 6d. for six insertions—this receipt, "Received on account of commission 30s., Thomas J. Hart,"it his writing—I sent this monthly statement to Mr. Brookman, and in consequence of the reply my manager wrote to the prisoner at 2, Wilmington Square, Clerkenwell—he absented himself from the office as near as possible on February 27th, just after the last payment—it was his duly to come every day—I wrote a letter to him at Wilmington Square—it was the address he gave, and it came back through the Dead Letter Office marked, "Gone away; address not known"—this is it—two letters have been returned through the Dead Letter Office—he never came back—I thought it was no good instituting proceedings, but when I found he had been caught I came forward.
Cross-examined. He might come and go when he liked; if he found a better opportunity he could leave me—the receipt does not specify what the commission related to; 13s. of it related to this; it was for orders—the document was put in at the Police-court—I did not know at that time what the balance referred to—he was overpaid, and if he had remained another month no commission would have been due to him—during the time he was with me he was entitled to £3 7s. 6d. commission—I produce a receipt for £2 10s.; the balance is not in his favour; he has been paid, but the receipt is mislaid; I should have to call a witness to prove the other payment—he brought the orders to me two or three times, and said, "I have got these."
Re-examined. He told me he had seen Mr. Brookman several times—I cannot carry all the orders in my mind, but if I refer to my books I can tell.
ALFRED BROOKMAN . I am an indiarubber stamp manufacturer, of 11, Hand Court, Holborn—early in this year the prisoner called on me two or three times for advertisements—on 30th January I gave him a verbal order for fifty-two insertions, but I altered it to twenty-six; it was originally "at 1s. "but a "1"has been put in, making it 11s.—I received an invoice for £2 2s. for four insertions; I was rather surprised, and wrote immediately.
HENRY HORACE SELIG . I represent the Cavendish Estate Company, 27, Chancery Lane—I employed the prisoner from March 14th at a canvasser on commission—we are agents for Day and Co., who have a system of advertising lavatory tablets—on 14th April I found this document on my table, with the prisoner's writing in blue: "I have gone to Horton's, these people are O. K. as far as I know"—that was on the Thursday before Good Friday, when the office was closed—the prisoner came on the Saturday between ten and eleven, and said, "I believe I can get Horton's order this morning; I have been promised it, shall I go and get it?"—Saturday being a short day I said, "Go there, and I
will pay half your cab fare,"as I did not want to stop at the office—I afterwards received a telegram, and a few minutes afterwards, towards one o'clock, the prisoner came in—I said, "What does this mean: 'Give 100 at 1s. 3d. '?"—he pulled out the order and said, "This is what it means 'Give' is 'Five, and the amount 500 at. 1s. 3d."—I believed that to be a genuine telegram—this is the order he gave me: "Messrs. Day and Co.,—Please insert our advertisement for twelve months on your patent advertising tablets; to occupy small space at 1s. 3d. per tablet per annum. Hart and Co., Bays water. One hundred are put up and checked"—he told me hat that was Pay's order—I paid him his commission for it on Tuesday, the 19th, £1 in gold, and laid out 6s. for him for a hat, at his request—this is his receipt—that was on account of Horton's order—if Horton's order had been genuine it would have been £31 5s., and he would have been entitled to 31s. 3d.—he asked me to leave the rest, so that at. the end of the quarter he would have something to draw upon—I passed the order to Day and Co.—on 21st April the prisoner gave me this piece of paper containing Horton's advertisement, with something scratched out, and said, "This is the advertisement Horton gave me for the tablets"—Messrs. Day sent ma this postcard: "Messrs. Day and Co. In reference to postcard received last night, Mr. Horton left here more than a year ago"—I then asked the prisoner what he meant by handing in wrong orders, or bogus orders—he looked very much confused, and trembled, and acknowledged them to be bogus orders—I said, "I shall have nothing further to say to you till I have communicated with your father"—on 13th April this order came from Day and Co.: "Please insert our advertisement for twelve months on your patent advertising tablet holder at £1 4s. 6d. per annum—George Cook; and a similar advertisement to appear on the same frame"—he handed me this cutting at the same time. (An advertisement of a skilled detective)—that was for £75 worth of advertisements—I believed it to be genuine, and paid the prisoner £2 8s. on the 13th—I did not take a receipt because I paid him outside the bank in Threadneedle Street—he said he would hand me a receipt, but he did not—I passed the advertisement on to Day and Co.—I said to the prisoner on Monday, "I want Cook's proof returned"—it was set up in type and sent to Cook in due course, and an answer came—I said to Hart, "Go and see about that advertisement"—he went, and said that Cook was away in Manchester, and his letters were being forwarded to him—I then made inquiries.
Cross-examined. I received no money from Cook over this—our commission on the £75 would have been 20 per cent.; we drew 10 per cent, of it, not knowing the order to be fictitious—Day and Co. were not my employers; the money I paid the prisoner was my own—I have not got the original telegram here to show whose writing it is—the prisoner acknowledged the order to be bogus, or words to that effect, and I have a letter here from him acknowledging his folly—I have managed a business at 41, Eastcheap—I never carried on business at Brighton; I was a tutor there preparing young men for the Army examinations—I am Dr. Selig; I have never gone by the name of Henry, or advertised as Dr. or Mr. Henry, or as Professor Horace—I never went to the shop in Archer Street till the night before last; I did not go to see the prisoner's father—I wrote to him, and asked him to call on me under the name of Mr. Stagg,
so that my employers should not know it; I did not broach the subject of money—I asked him to call because I thought the prisoner was On the threshold of life, and I did not wish to crush him, but to give him a chance, and I have letters from his father thanking me for my kindness—I believe I first took criminal proceedings on June 2nd; the matter was not found out till May 8th, I believe.
ANNIE SURGISON . "I am the wife of Francis Surgison, the housekeeper at 9, Craig's Court, Charing Cross—we have been there seven years—no George Cook has had offices there—a Mr. Uriah Cook was there twelvemonths ago—those offices are empty—Uriah Cook retired from business—I know his writing—the signature on the order, "George Cook,"is not his writing—the prisoner called there twice—he asked for Mr. Cook—I said he was gone, and the offices were closed—that was early in April—he asked if a letter would find him; I said no, and as no letters were sent I thought he had left his address at the post-office—he said he wanted to see Cook about some papers.
Cross-examined. There are three sets of offices at 9, Craig's Court—they are occupied by different firms—the ground floor was Cook's office, which is empty; there are three people in the first floor—two partners and a clerk; I have lately had the offices of the Naval Exhibition, but they have gone—there are people in other offices in the court.
ELSIE LAMBERT . I am a widow, and manageress to my brother-in-law, Mr. Lambert, of 52, Archer Street, Bayswater—the business occupies the whole of the house—the name up is "Alfred Lambert, late Horton"—Horton has been away eighteen months—he occupied the top floor—the advertisement order produced, addressed to 52, Archer Street, was not written by me, nor by my authority—it is not my brother-in-law's writing—he is a laundry man—the other business is Eureka cream—I have heard that Horton is dead—I was at my business at home from 9.30 a.m. till 11 p.m.—I was there the whole day—as far as I know, the prisoner did not call that day—I did not leave the shop all day; if he had called I must have seen him.
THOMAS PARTRIDGE (Detective Sergeant). On 15th June, about 8.30 a.m., I arrested the prisoner at 130, Thornton Road—I said, "I have a warrant for your arrest for obtaining £1 6s. from Henry Horace Selig, your employer"—I also read the warrant to him—he said, "It appears, to me that man wishes to drive me out of the country with his trumpedup charges, which he is unable to prove; I will expose him when I get to the Court to-day"—I took him to the station; the charge was read over to him—he made no answer.
Cross-examined. He told me he had a claim for debt against Selig—that was just before he went before the Magistrate—he was in the passage when he said so.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Mr. HUTTOE Prosecuted.
Guilty of indecent assault— Two Months' Hard Labour.
Mr. KYD Prosecuted.
HENRY SKINNER . I am a labourer, of the Victoria Home, Commercial Street—on 17th May I was with a man named Carol in Watney Street, and saw the prisoner; the moment she saw me she rushed at me, and made plunges at my chest with this big knife (produced)—I put my hands up to defend myself, and received blows on the back of my hand—I beckoned to a constable twenty or thirty yards away—when he came up I gave the prisoner in charge—I did not hear what she said—I lived with her twelve months ago, but separated through her beastly habits—I have since seen her in the infirmary hospital.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I could not say how often you struck me; I was so excited—I believe there were two blows—this is the wound on the back of my wrist—I did not strike you, knock you down, or give you a black eye; I have never touched you since I have known you; that is why you have done this, because I am too innocent for you—I lived with you seven years—your child, six years old, is not mine—I would not have gone near you again but for your pitiful letters to me, saying you were laid up.
WILLIAM CAROL . I am a brass-finisher, of 3, Brady Street—on 17th May I was with Skinner in Watney Street—I saw the prisoner and two other females standing at the corner of the Nelson public-house—Skinner noticed that the prisoner saw him, and left me, and hurried down Martha Street to avoid her; she followed and struck him with something—I afterwards saw this knife lying on the ground—she struck him on the hand, which he held up—I saw the knife in her hand before she struck.
ELLEN EVANS . I am the wife of George Evans, a coachsmith, of 25, Morris Street—I was in Watney Street on the afternoon of 17th May—I saw the prisoner's back when she had the knife in her hand; she ran after the man, by me, near a butcher's shop—shortly afterwards I picked up this knife five or six yards from the butcher's, and saw the man's hand bleeding—I gave it to the butcher.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see your face.
EDWARD PEPWORTH (54 1121). I was on 17th May in Watney Street—Skinner beckoned to me—I went up to him—he made a complaint—I followed the prisoner and stopped her—I said, "Which one was it?"—Carol said, "That one,"pointing to the prisoner—the prisoner said, "I did it, I have had my revenge now; he is the father of my child; I have just come out of the hospital through being knocked about by him"—Skinner's hand was bleeding—she got the knife from Hayes' the butcher's shop in Watney Street; it had just been sharpened.
HENRY THOMAS HAMILTON , M. D. I practise at 584, Commercial Road East—I saw Skinner at the station about 2.30 on 17th May—I examined his hand and arm—there were five wounds; three on the hand, one on the posterior surface of the fore-arm; two of the wounds on the hand were on the inner surface of the first two fingers, and were caused, in my opinion, by the knife—on the posterior surface of the hand there was a wound of about half an inch, and at right angles to the first wound on the back of the hand there was a fifth wound on the posterior surface of the forearm, a serious wound, one of the arteries being divided; he was
losing a great quantity of blood, and I had to enlarge the wound to tie the artery—these wounds could have been inflicted by a knife like this produced—the two wounds on the back of the hand might hare been inflicted at the same time—there would be at least two blows—it was impossible for the wound on the back of the forearm to hare been inflicted at the same time as the one near the knuckles.
The prisoner's statement before the Magsitrate: "I hare a child by him. I asked if he had anything to give me for its support and he made a kick at me, and I picked up the knife and struck. I did not know it was a knife, or what it was at the time."
The prisoner, in her defence, said the prosecutor struck her and pave her a black eye; that she woe irritated, being so weak and ill from his ill-treatment and knocking her teeth out, that she did not know what she was doing; and he had told her home up and left her without a place to lag her head or her child,
GUILTY† of unlawful wounding under great provocation.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, July let, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
652. ARTHUR CRAWFORD (30) PLEADED GUILTY to certain Counts of an indictment under the Debtors' Act, charging him with removing a certain amount of his property within two months of an unsuccessful judgment against him, and to other offences against the Act.
Ten Month's Hard Labour.
MR. WEDDERBURN Prosecuted, and MESSES. GEOGHEGAN and LAWLESS
JAKES KEATES . I am a senior clerk in the Stamping Department of the Royal Courts of Justice—this plan shows the counters and door in the room—tickets are obtained at one end of the room, and the stamping machines are behind boxes at the other part—the £5 die is marked "Royal Courts of Justice"—it is peculiar to these Courts, and is the only one of that character in the kingdom—in the morning Mr. Barker cornea from the Accountant-General's office, and unlocks the dies, which he has locked up the night before—he takes one specimen impression in the specimen-book, to see that the date is right; then he unlocks the tell-tale, takes the number of it in his book, and relocks it after being checked by the senior clerk; I initial it—these are my initials on May 12 and 13—Mr. Barker then goes away, and the business of the office begins—that is the usual course, and it was pursued on May 13th—people buy tickets at the counter, and pay for them, take them to the screen, and hand them over, with the deeds, to be stamped—no stamper ever receives money; there is a rule against his doing so—the tickets are numbered and issued and handed in consecutively—they are torn from a book—if a person wants a document stamped with a stamp for which we have no actual denomination, he hands in the document and ticket to me, and I pass it to the stamper with a covering
ticket—at the end of the day I make out an analysis, showing how many impressions have been made by each die in respect of the manuscript tickets—at the end of the day the number of issued tickets and the numbers of my analysis in respect of any one die show the number of impressions that have been authorised for that day—as tickets come in the stampers place them in a box by their side; from time to time they are counted and placed on a file—the total number of tickets on the file is placed on the top ticket of the day—when Mr. Barker comes in the evening he looks to see the number on the top ticket—he always wants to see that it agrees with the charge on the machine—he is content so long as he sees that the figures agree—on May 13th the stampers at the office were Thomas, Rowlandson, Lant, and Evans—Thomas left at 1.30, and did not come back, and after 1.30 the prisoner was working the £5 die—I did not discover anything wrong on that day—these are the covering receipts for that day—they show £295 in respect of the covering tickets—next day, as soon as I got to the office, the prisoner said he wanted to go particularly for the day, and I gave him leave of absence—after he had gone I asked Thomas for the tickets—he brought these, and I went through them—I had them counted, and in consequence of what I noticed I made a communication to Cleave—the next day but one I was in Somerset House when the prisoner was interviewed in my presence by Mr. Cleave and Mr. Purcell—previous to that Evans had made a communication to me, and I had communicated with Mr. Purcell and Mr. Cleave—the prisoner was asked if he knew anything about the tickets not agreeing, and their being counted nineteen whereas there were only eighteen on the file, and he said he did not know anything about it—Mr. Purcell sent for Evans, and when Mr. Evans had explained what he had noticed, the prisoner admitted it was correct—when Evans came he said he drew the prisoner's attention to the fact that there was a ticket lying by the side of the machine which appeared to have been on the file before; he said, "The top ticket is No. 18; if this is an additional ticket that makes nineteen; will you examine them?"—the prisoner counted them and said, "There are eighteen here, and this one not on the file makes nineteen"—(he prisoner then said that what Evans had said was correct—he was then asked why he had previously denied it—he had denied positively all knowledge of the tickets having been counted wrongly; he said he did not know anything at all about the counting of the tickets on that day—I cannot recollect the exact words he said—he did not come back to the office on the 14th—I was present on 18th May, when Mr. Ellis came and picked the prisoner out of the four stampers.
Cross-examined. I don't know if Mr. Ellis had first seen him in the office with the other clerks; as far as I know he had not—I was in charge of the department on that day—I am senior officer for that branch of Somerset House—I cannot say I remember the prisoner being asked by Mr. Purcell in the terms, "Do you know anything of the £5?"or the prisoner saying he did not—he said he never had any money since he had been in the office—I said before the Magistrate, "I was present when the prisoner was taken to Mr. Purcell on Monday morning; Mr. Purcell said to the prisoner, 'Do you know anything about the £5?' The prisoner said he did not, and did not recollect anything about the counting of the tickets, and he had never had any money since he had
been in the office"—risk money is money paid for a particular post where there is a liability to pecuniary loss—that risk money comes out of the public purse—£15 a year is paid as risk money to our stamps department—it has never been £50—that is paid because there is a possibility of mistake, but it is intended to cover loss that might occur in giving change—it is not in writing—the £ 15 has never been left at the end of the year—mistakes to the extent of £15 a year are not made by the stampers—I have not here the books from which the tickets are taken——if a £5 ticket was taken on Tuesday and not brought to the stamper's desk till Friday it would not affect the machine; it would affect the accounts; there would be a surplus of £5—there is no counterfoil in the, ticket-book—the only way of checking the tickets in the box is from the register number on them—it has never happened to the £5 machine that someone has next morning brought back a ticket which has been taken out by mistake, and had a stamp impressed—to the £1 machine it has happened, but not often—if you came to get a document stamped and paid £5, and afterwards discovered it only required a £1 stamp I should nave no power to give you back the £4; you would apply to the Commissioners—in the office, besides the stampers, are Mr. Keates, Mr. Neilson, Mr. Weaver, Mr. Lomax, Mr. Gayford (who I don't think was there then), they never touched the stamping machines—they were in the rooms where the machines were, and there was no physical obstacle to prevent them touching the machines—I cannot say that the clerks have not frequently used these stamping machines—a £30 stamp would require six impressions—I cannot say if we made a mistake about a £80 stamp some time ago—I don't remember someone coming and saying he had paid £10 and the document had only been impressed with two £1 stamps instead of with two £5 stamps—clerks have gone to the boxes where the tickets are kept, and taken them but and sorted them to see if there has been a mistake—the tickets are counted just before four o'clock, closing-time—very likely a person is often called away from counting by a person who wants a document stamped—about the middle of this very day the prisoner put on a £5 stamp by mistake, and a very extraordinary thing it was too—the document was handed in at the £1 window, and he went to the £5 machine—it was before 3.30, and it was rectified that day, as far as I recollect—I do not suggest that the prisoner received any money for it; I only say it was an extraordinary mistake to go to the wrong machine—I am responsible for mistakes; it does not matter to him—I have to find the money—I have my own opinion about whether he did it intentionally—it is just the point what good it would do him—he simply said in explanation that he had put a £5 stamp on—I was obliged to be satisfied with that—I could not help saying I accepted the prisoner's explanation as to the £5 and £1 stamp as satisfactory—the indicators of the machines never go wrong, but they stamp imperfectly sometimes—we cannot give a second stamp when the first is imperfect; we get it rectified at Somerset House ether the numbers come in regularly at each window depends on the persons who take the tickets—I suggest that they come in regularly at the £5 machine, because it is so seldom used—it is possible that a solicitor's clerk would come in just before lunch-time, take a ticket, and men come back at three o'clock with the document and ticket, other tickets having been issued in the meantime—a notice is printed on the
tickets that they are to be produced at once—they used a long while ago to be frequently taken away.
Re-examined. My experience as to people taking tickets and coming back with them after lunch is that they do not prefer two journeys for what they can do in one—the prisoner's error as to the £5 for the £1 stamp I rectified on the same day, and notified it in my account—that error was about the middle of the day, I believe—Barker comes to clear up as near four as possible—he cannot tell the numbers till the doors are closed to the public—we keep a record of tickets that have been taken out and not brought back—I never remember such a thing as an. outstanding £5 ticket, and I have been in the office since it was established in 1879—risk money has nothing to do with the value of the impression of the dies; it is to make up losses in giving change, which is the fault of the cashiers, not of the stampers.
By the COURT. The prisoner was not always at the £5 stamp; if he went out for a few minutes and a £5 stamp was wanted, the next senior to him would take his place—if the other stampers were busy, a clerk from the other part of the office would not stamp it; it is impossible for anybody except with technical experience to put the stamp on parchment—one of the other stampers would do it—I do not appoint these clerks or pay them, but I am responsible for them so far as money is concerned—each stamper has a little box by the side of his machine, into which he puts the tickets for the stamp, and they are there till they are counted and put on the file—if he is out for a minute or two there is nothing to prevent any other stamper from going to the box and taking out a ticket; all the stampers have access to the box, which is open—we only hold a stamper responsible for the tickets issued to him; he does not initial them to show they have come to him; we should not get through the work if he did—there is no proof that the ticket has gone into anybody's hands, only that it is on the machine in an open box—Evans counted the tickets in this case—the junior generally counts the whole of the tickets on each machine—another man counts the tickets for which the prisoner is responsible, and marks them—in this case the prisoner counted them himself.
By the JURY. All the tickets are torn from books numbered consecutively—each clerk has a number of 10s. tickets loose, which are given, out to him at the beginning of the day, and which he has to account for at the end, but £5 tickets are never given out loose to clerks.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. The books of tickets are locked up in the safe at night—there were seventy-eight impressions of £5 tickets that day for which £5 was answerable, and one specimen.
JOHN SAMUEL PURCELL , I am Comptroller of Stamps and Registrar of Joint Stock Companies at Somerset House—I had an interview with the prisoner in the presence of Keates and Cleave in my room on the 18th of May—I asked the prisoner if he could account for the loss of the £5—he said he knew nothing about it—I said, "What can you say to me with regard to that ticket that was found lying about on the counter?"—he said he knew nothing about it—I said, "Do you not remember Evans speaking to you on this point?"—he said he did not—
I am not clear if he said he did not remember, or that Evans did not say it—I said, "We will have Evans in"—I sent for Evans, who came in and gave an account of seeing this ticket lying about—apparently, as I gathered from him, he thought it had been taken off the file on which it had been placed—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what Evans says?" and then the prisoner said he never denied that Evans had spoken to him.
Cross-examined. He always said he never had taken any money in the office—I asked him whether he had taken the £5, and he said he had not—Mr. Keates is not the responsible head of that office—he was acting as head on that day, the chief officer being away—I should hold him responsible to come and tell me of mistakes, and then I should go into the matter; he is responsible to see the work is properly carried on, and if not he would report to me—if a mistake occurred, and it could not be traced to anyone in particular, I should be held responsible; Mr. Keates would be responsible to me, and I should be responsible to the board—when Ellis was called in I asked him whether the prisoner was the man to whom he paid the £5—I don't know that I pointed the prisoner out; there were only four of us in the room, Ellis, Keates, Cleave, and the prisoner—the prisoner was the only one of the stampers there—Ellis said to the best of his belief he was the man, but of course he could not be absolutely certain; he went further than saying he was like the man—I knew that before Ellis saw him in my presence he had seen him at the Courts that day.
Re-examined. I wished to have' them confronted before I gave the prisoner in charge.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I did not suspend the prisoner from his duties until I had confronted him with Ellis—after that I reported the matter to the board, and gave the prisoner in charge on the 18th, I think; I should say I gave him in charge on the same day within an hour.
ANGUS ELLIS . I am an articled clerk to Messrs. Gibson and Metcalf, of St. Mary Axe—on 18th May I took this bankruptcy petition to the Stamping Office to be stamped with a £5 stamp—I had never been there to have a £5 impressed stamp before, only for the purpose of buying adhesive stamps—I saw £5 painted up over a pigeon-hole in the room, and I went to the window: a clerk came, and I said I wanted a petition stamped with a £5 stamp—the clerk took the petition, and after about two minutes brought it back, and I paid him £5 in gold—the prisoner is like the man to whom I gave the money—afterwards I went to the Royal Courts with Mr. Gore, and saw the clerks there—(I had previously made a communication to Mr. Gore)—I saw three stampers, I think—I was asked to look at the men, and see if I could pick out the one to whom I had paid the money, and after looking for some time I picked out the prisoner—I have no doubt in my own mina that he is the man to whom I handed the money—I also saw the prisoner in Mr. Purcell's presence, and I said the prisoner was like the man to whom I paid the money—the prisoner said, "That is a very serious charge to bring against a man in my position."
Cross-examined. When Mr. Gore brought me to identify the prisoner he asked me to go in and see if I could identify the man to whom I had paid the money—he said the suspected man was there; there were
only three men in the room—I had given a description, as far as I could, of the man to whom I had given the money—I first pointed out the man to whom I thought I had paid the money, and then I was confronted with him at Somerset House, and said he was like the man to whom I paid the money—at the first identification I knew that one of the three was a suspected person—I said, "I think that is the man"—afterwards at Somerset House I said he was like the man—it was three or four days after presenting the petition for stamping that I identified the prisoner. Re-examined. I made a statement to Gore, on which he took me to the Royal Courts.
By the JURY. I think it was between half-past three and twenty minutes to four that I paid the money.
HERBERT JAMES EVANS . I am the junior stamper in the Stamping Office at the Royal Courts—after 1.30 on Friday, 13th May, the stampers in the office were Lant, the prisoner, and myself—either the prisoner or Lant was at the £5 press that afternoon—between three and half-past that afternoon I counted the tickets, which were in an open box beside the press—I found 18—I put them on the file, and marked 18 on this top one—I then went away from the box for a moment—about ten minutes to four I went again to where the £5 press and the tickets on the file were—the prisoner was standing by the press—I found one ticket on the side with a hole in it similar to the hole made by the file—I asked the prisoner, "Who has been playing about with the tickets?"—he said he did not know—I asked him to count them, and I saw him do so, and he said, "There, are eighteen here, and one at the side here makes 19"—I put them on the file, and put 19 on the top—I was there next day when the prisoner asked for leave and went away—subsequently I made a communication to Mr. Keates, and on Monday I was sent for to Somerset House, where I made a communication to Mr. Purcell—the prisoner was sent for—Mr. Purcell asked me what I knew about the tickets, and I told him I counted the tickets a little after three, and found 18; that I put them on the file, and marked them; that when I went again about ten minutes to four there was one lying by the side, with a hole in it; that I called the prisoner's attention to it, and he counted them as 18, and said, "One by the side there makes 19"—the prisoner said, "It is quite right what Evans says"—Mr. Purcell said, "You denied it just now"—the prisoner said he did not think he did—I did not receive £5 in gold from anyone that afternoon.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure I did not use the £5 Press that afternoon—I saw Lant use it—I have been in Her Majesty's service since July, 1882—I have been in this department at the Law Courts since the beginning of April this year—since that time mistakes have occurred in counting the tickets at the end of the day, but they are corrected before we go—When we go to the window to serve a person there is something to prevent other people in the office from seeing what takes place—I have found out since I was at the Police-court that unless you are standing at the window you cannot see—I swore at the Police-court: "When any of us go to the window there is nothing to interrupt the view of the others, and it can be seen what he is doing"—you cannot look over the partition; it is about 6 ft. high—I am still in the service; I have not been suspended—we have been talking about it among ourselves; I noticed at the time I had made a mistake—it was a.
mistake to say, "I should think that if any of my colleagues took money through the window I could see him"—I desire to say that unless you are near the man you would not see anything—I do not desire to change my statement that "I did not see the prisoner take any money at all that day"—I have been working with Mr. Keates every day since this; I have not discussed my evidence with him; I should say no one called my attention to it—I have not changed my evidence in consequence of something said to me—tickets are sometimes brought to the window not in consecutive order—other clerks in the office come through occasionally—only a door, which is occasionally open, divides their department from ours—I work the handle of either the £1, 10s. or £5 stamp—it does not require technical knowledge to pull the handle.
Re-examined. When stamping parchment a piece of silver foil and an escutcheon are put on after the skin has been rubbed with pumice stone, and little slits made with a knife—a stamper has to do that; we mostly understand it—I did the same work nine or ten years ago in the Stamping Department at Somerset House—I cannot say whether Lant worked the £5 stamp that afternoon—I swear these figures are in the prisoner's writing—I have known £5 tickets brought to the window out of their order—when anyone goes to the window there is nothing to interrupt the view of others; but if he is away from the window he cannot see.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I don't know why I should have said at the Police-court, "At the close of the day I think Rowlandson made up the numbers; I think those are his figures on the back of the ticket produced, and to the best of my belief he agreed with the account"—because I know he did—Thomas, the senior man, was away in the afternoon, and the prisoner is next senior, and it was his place to do it.
By the JURY. The clerks who take the money can get to the counter where the stamps are and use them, but I have never seen them do it, I believe—if I and the other stampers were out of the way other clerks could come and do it.
ARTHUR BARKER . I am the officer from the Accountant-General's office, who unlocks the dies in the morning and locks them up at night in the Stamping Office of the Royal Courts—I record the number of the tell-tale of the stamps in the evening—on the 12th I recorded the last number of the die as 5,066—on the morning of the 13th I unlocked the tell-tales, and the number was then 5,066—I took this one specimen stamp in the specimen-book, locked up the tell-tale, and came away—when I went back in the evening the tell-tale number was 5,145, which made out that 79 impressions had been made by the die during the day, and less the one specimen, it was 78 chargeable with duty, or £390—I agreed in the usual course, the figures on the £5, with one of the stampers, who to the best of my belief was the prisoner—I cannot say I saw him make the figures out—as a rule similar papers are made out and placed on the top of each file—the senior stamper makes out the file, and agrees with me for the whole of the stamps—the senior agrees not only his own lot of papers, but the other three lots—he agrees with me the total number of tickets, and the amount of charge raised—he adds the covering receipts to the number of tickets, moneys them oat, and calls out to me the amount of duty, which he finds according to the tickets—on the 13th I made out this document, showing the amount of charge raised against each press—as to the £5 press, he would call to me
that the amount that day was £390, and I would call out "agreed,"and the next day the tickets are gone through.
Cross-examined. There are six machines, each of a different value of stamp—it is the senior man's duty to work at the £5 stamp—I do not hold him responsible for the other five, but he accounts to me for everything—there is no one to whom I should say with respect to the 10s. machine, "You alone shall use that machine"
By the COURT. The vouchers are kept in open boxes by the side of the machines, and any one of the clerks and stampers has access to them—Evans added the prisoner's tickets at 3.50—I don't know that the prisoner would be held responsible for any mistake that occurred, but the senior man always does the agreeing.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. The boxes are oblong; as the tickets come in the stamper throws them into the box—I am not quite sufficiently acquainted with the details of the work to say whether any person in the office has access to the boxes; I am not there in the day.
Re-examined. When the ticket has been passed through the window, and the impression made in respect of it, it is a check on the stamp.
JOHN POYNTER LANT . I am a stamper in this office—on 13th May the only stampers there were Evans, the prisoner, and myself—Thomas had gone at 1.30—I worked the £5 press that afternoon—none of the clerks who issue tickets came round at the back by the dies that afternoon to my knowledge—I have seen then coming round by the back of the dies, but not many times—that has been when there was great pressure of work—I have never seen them touch the £5 die—I do not think there was any great pressure on the 13th to necessitate anything of that kind, and I do not think we had any assistance from the clerks on the 13th—I certainly did not receive £5 in gold from anyone on the afternoon of 13th May—next day Mr. Keates called me to count the file—I counted them over and handed them to him.
Cross-examined. Nobody is told off distinctly to each machine—the senior man can go to the £3 10s. or £5 machines and use them indiscriminately, but he has instructions to stick closely to the £1 and 10s. machines—I work the 10s. machine, and did so on this morning—the tickets are thrown into the box—I remember last year a boy coming from Vyse's to have three documents, I think, stamped with £30 stamps—there should have been six impressions with the £5 stamp—by mistake six £1 impressions were made instead of six £5 impressions—that was found out about a week afterwards—I understood that the cashier was supposed to have received £30; I know nothing of the cash balance of £24—I receive a ticket for every stamp I give—I have never known a stamp impressed on a document for which cash has not been paid in the first instance—mistakes occasionally occur in the counting of tickets—only a door, which is generally open, separates the clerks from the stampers—when there is nothing to do in the office we walk to and fro, not from one room to the other—sometimes the clerks come through and speak to us if they have nothing to do—some of the clerks go out in the course of the day, and then the work must be done by the others.
Re-examined. Mr. Keates sits between the clerks and the stampers, and they cannot pass without passing him—I have no personal knowledge as to the £24 matter; it is only what I have heard—the mistakes that arise
in counting tickets are with regard to tickets of smaller denominations the 5s., 3s., 2s. stamps; we have about 200 2s., 290 3s., and 200 5s. tickets in a day, and mistakes sometimes occur in counting those very large numbers.
ERNEST CLEAVE . I am Assistant-Comptroller of stamps at Somerset House—I was there with Mr. Keates and Mr. Purcell when the prisoner was had up and asked questions—Mr. Purcell said to him, "Rowlandson, what do you know about this £5 deficiency in the accounts?"—the prisoner said he knew nothing about it—Mr. Purcell asked him whether he did not remember haying been called on to count the tickets, and questioned by Evans as to whether there were eighteen there instead of nineteen, and he said he did not remember anything about it—I said, "Rowlandson, don't you remember Evans seeing a separate £5 ticket lying on the counter, with a hole in it, and asking you whether anybody had been meddling with the tickets, and asking you to count, and you did count, and saying you counted eighteen tickets besides the one lying on the counter, and that including that there were nineteen?"—the prisoner said he did not remember anything about the occurrence at all—I said to the Comptroller, "I think the only thing to do is to send for Mr. Evans, and let these two men be confronted"—Evans was sent for, and gave his account as to the discovery of the separate ticket, and asking Rowlandson to count them, and Rowlandson saying he made eighteen, without the separate ticket, and on the faith of Rowlandson's counting he (Evans) marked the top ticket, which was the separate one, 19, and put it on the file—the prisoner then said, "I remember all about it"; something to that effect; I believe those were the exact words—I said to him, "How was it, then, you denied all knowledge of this circumstance when Mr. Purcell and I questioned you?"—he said, "I did not deny it when you questioned me"—I said, "You did"—before that, while we were sending for Evans, I said to the prisoner, "Wright has been complaining; to me again of your failure to repay money to him which you borrowed some years ago"-Wright was one of the prisoner's companions in the office, in the same position—he said he had made an effort to pay—I said, "You have not paid anything for twelve months"—he said he had not been able to do it; he had had heavy family claims on him—I also complained to him about another case of borrowing money from a law stationer who was in the habit of going to the Law Courts to get stamps impressed.
Cross-examined. I have nothing to do with the young men's morals, or seeing that their debts are paid except as between men in the employment—if Smith complains of Jones having borrowed half-a-crown, we should think it necessary to say you had better pay; we do not interfere—we give them good advice—when a man makes a formal complaint to me, as Wright did, I should hold it my duty to try and induce the prisoner to pay—we have at Somerset House no private police, private inquiry agents, or official people to make inquiries—there are police in the building—this interview with the prisoner and Evans was on Monday, 16th—in my opinion the prisoner contradicted the story Evans had told
me—when Evans was brought in he said that what Evans had said was correct—my object in asking questions was to ascertain if Evans's story was true or not—I was convinced that Evans's story was true—the prisoner went to another branch and did warehouseman's duties after that—we did not suspend him; we had not Mr. Ellis's evidence then.
Re-examined, He was not sent back to the Stamping Department till it was for the purpose of identification—the duties lie had to do in the other branch, had nothing to do with the receipt of money or any responsible work—we do not put a man in any such branch when we know he is impecunious.
DENNIS KELLY (Police Officer). I arrested the prisoner in the Comptroller's room—the Comptroller said, "I shall have to give this young man into custody for stealing £5 at the Law Courts"—I said to the prisoner, "You hear what the Comptroller says, and probably anything you say in reply may be used in evidence against you"—he said to the Controller, "I assure you I have not had the money"—I took him to the station; he was charged.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner, upon which MR. WEDDERBURN offered no evidence.
For eases tried in Old Court, Saturday, see Kent and Surrey cases.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, July 2nd, 1892.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
654. WILLIAM PIERCY (19), WILLIAM SMITH (18), and JEREMIAH BRYAN (17) , Robbery with violence on Michael Leary, and stealing 3 1/2 d., his money. ( During the progress of the case the Court directed tie Jury to acquit the prisoner, as it was clear that there had been a street row among boys, and that the prosecutor, a blind boy, happening to be among them, had got the worst of it:)
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoners for assault, upon which no evidence was offered.
For another case tried in this Court this day, see Kent cases.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
655. WALTER PETERKIN (18), WALTER DAY (16), and CHARLES HORNE (16) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Ann Blatcher and stealing four tins of lobster and twelve tins of condensed milk, her property.— Discharged on recognisances.
another man not in custody—I returned at 9.15, and saw the same two men coming from the front gate, which I had left looked, and the front door looked and bolted—the prisoner had a brown coat on his arm, and the other man had a black coat on—my brother made a grab at the prisoner, who slipped the coat and run away—I ran after both; the other man took off the black coat and threw it in front of me; I did not stop to pick it up, but caught the prisoner—when I was within three yards of him he threw a parcel into the Bell yard which belongs to me.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were about twenty yards from the house when I left it, but I passed within ten yards—I am certain of you because it was quite light, and I had seen you previously—I never lost sight of you after you came out of the gate.
EDWARD LAW . I live at 56, Teesdale Street, Hackney—on the evening of June 6th I was at my brother's, Victoria Hill, Woodford—as we left I saw the prisoner and another man—we returned at 9.16, and I saw the prisoner and the other man leaving the front gate—I ran after the prisoner; he had a light coat on his arm, which he changed to his left arm, made a hit at me, and ran Oft—I ran after him—the other man dropped a coat; I stopped to pick it up—I lost sight of him once.
Prisoner's Defence. This was Whit-Monday; I had had a drop of liquor, and met a man who I did not know. He asked me to go home with him while he got a coat. I walked with him; he put a coat on my arm.
MR. WARDE Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
ALICE SHEARMAN . I live at 2, Midget Villas, Leytonstone—on 24th March I retired to rest at eleven o'clock, and fastened up the house—next morning, about eight o'clock, I missed the upper parts of two sewing machines from their tables—I have seen one of them at the Police-court.
GEORGE COX (Detective Sergeant). On 25th March I went to the prisoner's house and found a pawn-ticket relating to a machine, which was reported to me as having been stolen—it is in the name of Watson.
GEORGE AUGUSTUS FORD . I am a pawnbroker, of 119, Wood Grange Road, Forest Gate—on 29th March the prisoner brought a sewing machine, and I lent him twelve shillings on it in the name of Watson—I did not care to take it in, but he said the name on the receipt which he handed to me was that of his father, Alfred Watson.
GUILTY on the Second Count.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. TEA VERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL TAYLOR Defended Ferris.
WILLIAM COX . I am a carpenter, of 19, Wellington Street, Woolwich—on May 28th I was working on an unfinished building in Brewer Street, Woolwich—we had a room there to leave our tools in; the room door was locked; we didn't put them in a cupboard—I left off work at one o'clock, and went to work again on Monday morning at 6.30, and the tools were gone—some had been in a tool bag, and some loose—on Tuesday, the 31st, I saw twenty-four tools in New's shop, 42, Beresford Street, fourteen of which were mine, and had my name on them—I lost twenty-two—New said he bought them of a man he did not know, and described him—I also identified this plane at the Police-station; it has "W. Cox"on it.
Cross-examined by New. You offered to give me the tools back. Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. I value them at about £3—one of my tools was found at Ferris's shop.
JOSEPH TAYLOR . I am a carpenter, of 47, Station Road, Plumstead—I worked with Cox, and left my tools safe on Saturday at two o'clock—on the Monday I missed a quantity of planes and saws, value £2 10s.—I was taken to New's on the Tuesday morning, and identified six tools out of twenty-four—they have my name on them, and are worth £1 0s. 6d.—I know New by sight.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. I identified five of my tools at Ferris's.
GEOEGE BROWN . I am a carpenter, of 177, Maxey Road—I was working on this unfinished building in Brewer Street, and left thirty-two tools there on Saturday at one o'clock—on the Monday morning they were gone—I found three of them at New's shop, and others at the station—I identified twenty-four, but have not seen the others—they all bore my name.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. Twenty-four were found at Ferris's, value 25s. or 30s.
JOHN BOORER . I am a tool dealer, of 97, High Street, Woolwich—on Monday, 30th. May, I bought eleven planes, a stock, three bits, three squares, a saw, and a bevel of New for 15s.—the police came to me and I showed them the tools.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. I have been in this business ten years, and have had great experience—the price was the fair market value—tools are exceedingly cheap just now—there is a great difference in secondhand—this is a fancy saw which workmen think a great deal of—if these tools are worth £2 5s. I should not like to give more than £1 for them—there are names on them.
Re-examined. 8s. 6d. is not a fair value for them—when persons bring tools I always inquire who they are, but I generally know who I am buying of.
wrapped up in a white cloth—lie asked me for the governor, and I called New down—he went into the shop, and Osborne said, "I have brought you a few tools; you need not be afraid to buy them; they are my own"—he went away without them—after New was in custody, Osborne came to me with some more tools to sell, and asked for the governor—I said, "He is not at home"—he said, "Can't you bur them?"and showed me eight trowels, and asked 3s. 6d. for them—I said, "I cannot give you that money,"and sent for a policeman, who took him into custody.
PETER LLOYD (234 R). On 30th May I received information of this robbery—I went to New's shop and said, "Have you bought any carpenters' tools during the past two days?"—he said, "Yes; I bought an old plane and three or four old chisels"—I said, "Were they stamped with any mark or name?"—he said, "No; or I should not have taken them in"—I said, "You have had a large quantity stolen in the neighbourhood,"and told him the names they were stamped with—he handed me a book, and said, "Would you mind writing them down for me?"—I did so, and left the shop—on the same day I went to Mrs. Ferris's shop, 136, High Street, Woolwich; she is a secondhand dealer—I said, "Have you bought any carpenters' tools during the past few days?"—she said, "No; I have not bought any for some time"—I told her the names they were stamped with—she said, "I will keep a look-out for them for you"—I then left—I was in plain clothes.
Cross-examined by New. You did not tell me that you could not read.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. This was at 1.30 on the Monday—I told her that a large quantity of tools had been lost—she said, "You asked for tools lost on Monday, and I bought the tools on Saturday night"—she has been in Woolwich sixteen or seventeen years, I believe? four years to my knowledge—I am not aware that she has had any criminal charge brought against her before—you can buy almost everything at her shop; the things are piled up, almost choked.
HENRY BISHOP (Police Sergeant A). On 31st May, at ten a.m., I went to New's shop with Brown, Taylor, and Cox—I asked New for the tools; he produced 24 from behind the counter and put them on the counter, and the witnesses identified them by the names and marks on them—I asked New if he could account for having them in his possession—he said, "Yes, a man brought them on Sunday morning and evening, and I gave him 5s. 6d. for them"—I asked if he knew the man; he said, "No"—I went round a number of streets with him to try and find the man, but could not—I saw New again at one o'clock, and asked if he had found the man; he said, "I saw the man"—I said, "Why did not;. you detain him?" he said, "He is too big; I went for a policeman, and when I came back he was gone"—I took him to the station, and charged him—he said, "I did not steal the tools."
HENRY RUTHERFORD (Detective R). On Tuesday, May 7th, I went to Ferris's shop with a search warrant, which I read to her, and said, "Now, Mrs. Ferris, we are going to search your premises; have you got any of those tools that we inquired for last week?"—she said, "No; only those outside on the board"—after a two hours' search I found a basket of tools under a large quantity of old clothes in the centre of the shop—I showed her the names on them, and said, "These are some of the tools we inquired for last week; have you any more of them?"—she said,
"No; them tools I bought last Saturday night; you asked for them on the Monday"—I asked her at the station next day who she bought the tools of—she said, "A tall man"—I asked her what she gave for them—I think she said 8s. 6d.—next morning I made further search with two others, and found twenty more tools in the cellar with names on them, under a lot of clothes, all distributed round the cellar—they are all identified.
Cross-examined by Osborne. When you were charged you said that a man named Scott gave them to you to sell—I went to the lodging-house where you said he had been lodging, but they knew nothing of him—a man named Swinburne was not at the station when you were charged.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. What Ferris really said was, "You asked me for tools lost on Monday, and I bought these on Saturday night"—I was not with Sergeant Lloyd; he went in the morning, and I went at night, not aware that Lloyd had called—all that Lloyd did was to put down the names—Ferris's shop is full of things—I found shovels, pickaxes, and every tool.
Cross-examined by Osborne. I heard a man say to the inspector that there was another man with you in the afternoon, and you said you believed his name was Scott—you did not say where the policeman could find him.
Evidence for Ferris.
JANE FERRIS . I am the prisoner's mother-in-law—I was at her shop on Saturday, 29th May, and saw Osborne there—he had a basket of tools, and said to her, "Do you want to buy any tools?"—she said, "What are they?"—he said, "Carpenter's tools"—she said, "Is it yours?"—he said, "No, it is my brother's, who is dead, and I am going to sell them for the widow, to get her something"—she said, "Why have not you brought her here with you?"—he said, "She is so ill in bed she cannot come"—she gave him 8s. 6d. for the tools—he went away, and Came back in half an hour with some more, and she gave him 10s. for them—I have lived with her for years, up and down—she is widow—she has never been in any trouble of this kind before.
Cross-examined. I was not called at the Police-court—I knew my daughter-in-law was in trouble, but I was not asked to go and give evidence—this was Saturday, the 28th—8s. 6d. was the price paid, not 18s. 6d.—I did not know Osborne, but I see him now—I do not know whether he has a brother.
Osborne's Defence. From the first I have never denied selling these tools. I received them from a man who told me they belonged to his brother. He said he had disposed of some of them down Charlton way, and would I dispose of the rest? On the Sunday following he brought me two parcels tied up in a carpenter's apron. I met him on the Tuesday, and he gave me the trowels. I gave the police his name, and told them where to find him.
New's Defence. When he brought these tools to me I asked him where he brought them from. He said they were his own, and he had no further use for them. I gave him half-a-crown for them, and he brought me
some more in the evening, and I gave him 3s. for them. I am no scholar, and could not read the names on them.
FERRIS received a goad character
— NOT GUILTY . OSBORNE and NEW— GUILTY . NEW then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on May 31, 1886, of stealing a watch and money from the person— Twelve Months' Hard Labour . OSBORNE— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. A. GILL and TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and F. Low Defended.
MARY BANNER . I am a widow, living at 8, Harpington Road, Ealing Dean—in July or August, 1889, I saw an advertisement in the Times, in consequence of which I wrote to Miss Cullen, Richmond House, Burnt Ash Hill, Lee—I received this letter in reply. (This stated that Miss Cullen, who had made the school herself had been there nearly six years, and had sixteen boarders and also day pupils; that her net income was £400 or £450; that she wanted someone to join her in taking a second house to increase her accommodation; that she would give one-third of the school, or a fixed income of £110, with board and residence, the £110 being made up of salary, interest on capital invested, and a capitation fee on the pupils.)—I proposed an interview in reply to that letter—I received another letter, and then went and saw the prisoner at Richmond House, Burnt Ash Hill—I said I was anxious to help the education of my younger daughter, as our circumstances were very different to what they had been—she said she did not wish for a partner, as she had made the school entirely herself, and did not wish to be interfered with in any way—at a second interview, at which my husband was present, she was asked whether she had debts of any description—she said, "No, no debts whatever"; her current expenses she paid monthly, so that nothing was owing—the advance she required from us was solely to take a fresh house and furnish it, and, I suppose, leave some balance in hand to begin with—I supplied nearly all the furniture there, and in consequence of that she gave my husband partial board as well as myself—I paid a fee for the children's education—we came to a verbal arrangement, which was afterwards embodied in this letter. (This was to the effect that Mrs. Banner would put her furniture into the new house, and advance £250, and assist in teaching; that the furniture was to be in her own possession, and removable by her; that the £250 was to be repayable on demand at any time after October, 1890, subject to six months' notice by either party; and that she was to be paid as interest for the loan and for services as assistant £110 15s., in three equal payments, on 1st February, June, and October in each year)—both I and the prisoner signed that—she. told me her net profits were £400 or £460 a year—my husband sent her a
cheque for £25 on August 29th, and then I sent her other instalments on September 4th, September 13th, November 2nd, December 9th, and January 11th, 1890, making in all £250—she herself suggested instalments—after the agreement was signed on 17th September I went and lived at Corn-worthy, Burnt Ash Hill, Lee, the other house taken to enlarge the school—it was about five minutes from Richmond House—I lived there till April, 1891—my time for teaching was irregular; it averaged about two and a half hours a day for five days a week—my pupils varied very much; sometimes I had eight—I took different classes—about eight slept in our house—the first payment, due from the prisoner in April, I received in March—of the next, due in June, after considerable pressure, I had a minute instalment, and if balance was paid in October by a dishonoured cheque which was afterwards made good—I received no money after that—I received this letter from her. (Stating that she had deferred sending an answer till the money she was entitled to under her aunt's will was paid; and that she found the expenses were more than she had counted on, and that the school could not stand it, but that fortunately the legacy would free her, and making an appointment to gee Mrs. Banner)—that put an end to the agreement—I have not received anything besides the two instalments directly from her—I proved in her bankruptcy, and received £31 odd instead of the £-333 then due.
Cross-examined. I suppose I had the same dividend as all the other creditors—before bankruptcy proceedings were taken I brought an action against her to recover my money; I think that was in March, 1891; ft was a few months before bankruptcy proceedings were taken—the £110 15s. per annum was to go on every year, and for that I had lent her £250, and I was to assist in teaching and to manage the house, and be responsible for the well-being of the pupils in it—I and my husband and my little girl lived in the house—I paid £12 a year for her tuition, as much as the other pupils paid, I believe—my husband died while we were there, and the prisoner then took another of my daughters and boarded her, but that was only for a few weeks while I was away to get a change, that she might take my work she left when I came back, but as I was too ill to take my work again she came back, and during that time I paid for my own support—some days I taught for three hours, sometimes only three-quarters of an hour—I took classes one day in the week, and on certain days I took the girls in French—after I was ill my daughter took my place, by the prisoner's permission; she said the pupils liked her better than myself—my daughter who taught was nineteen years old, and had a Cambridge certificate; my younger daughter was sixteen; she only once took my place, I think—I had had no experience of teaching, beyond having taught my own children, and being connected with some Sisters of Mercy, and teaching a little for them before I was married—the Kindergarten system was carried on at Cornworthy—she said she wanted the money to open that branch, and she did it—she took the house immediately after the agreement—at first I wanted her to take a bigger house, and she declined because it would be too expensive—the house she did take was at a larger rent than she wanted to pay; I persuaded her to take it, and I paid the £10 rent extra myself, partly because it would be more convenient to my family and myself—
she only paid the rent she wished, I made up the difference—I don't know how many pupils there were; every question I asked was met with an evasive answer; I think the number of pupils fluctuated from fifteen to twenty-five; I am not certain; I was kept purposely in the dark—I only taught eight—I cannot tell if the number was never higher than twenty at the other school; I never knew—eight pupils slept at Corn worthy, to. the best of my recollection; sometimes nine; sometimes seven; and governesses slept there too—I may have said before as to the number at Richmond House, "I think there were from fifteen to twenty-five"—I don't know if there ever were less than forty pupils in the two houses—I don't know if my income would have increased with the increase in the school—my chief object in entering into the arrangement was to finish my younger daughter's education, and to find a home for myself—for a year and a half I had board and lodging for me and my daughter—I never ascertained whether there were any pupils there when she began the school; she said she had made it herself, and I believed her—I never knew or saw Miss Crockford till I met her at the Police-court—I heard she was music-teacher at the school, and I believe she gave my daughter a lesson—Mr. Abbott, the solicitor who served the writ for me, first asked me to take proceedings against her, and give evidence at the Police-court—that was in September, and I was put into communication with Messrs. Haynes and Claremont, in consequence of a garnishee order being served on me to pay money to Miss Cullen—in the spring of 1889 Miss Crockford's solicitors tried to attach some debt supposed to be due from me, and then I found the prisoner owed money to Miss Crockford, and that there were other victims besides myself.
Re-examined. When I issued the writ the prisoner had not been examined in bankruptcy.
By MR. AVORY. The prisoner suggested the money should be paid in instalments; I suggested I was willing to pay the whole £250 down.
MABEL HELEN CROOKFORD . I live at 2, St. Peter's Road, Mile End—on 18th November, 1889,1 saw this advertisement in the Times, for a lady or gentleman, non-resident, to take a share in a successful school, with good income guaranteed, eight hours' teaching weekly—in consequence I saw the prisoner on 22nd November, 1889, at Richmond House—on the 26th I went again with my father—the prisoner explained that she wanted someone to teach in her school, as she had said in her advertisement—my father said before going into anything he must ask if she had any debts; she said, "No, none whatever, except my tradesmen's monthly bills and salary for governesses for the present term"—my father asked if she had had any such arrangement before, borrowing money in that way; she said no, never; that she had lent money herself to a school and found it answer, and she thought she would try it in her own school—she said she wanted between £200 and £300; £250 was the sum, and for that she offered 5 per cent, interest and a salary to me, as a teacher, of £75 a year—this agreement was subsequently drawn up. (By this Miss Crockford agreed to lend £250 to carry on the school, and to be repaid on the determination of the agreement; Mitt Cullen to pay five per cent. by half-yearly payments, and to employ Miss Crockford at a teacher on two days a week, and pay her a quarter of the profits of the school, guaranteeing such quarter to amount to £75; and there was a provision that the letting of two
rooms at Cornworthy to two friends of Miss Cullen's should not be a breach of the agreement)—my father asked why she did not go to her relations, and she said she had never gone to her relations at all—I continued to live at Mile End—I received the first payment two months after it was due; the second payment I did not receive till February, 1891, after a writ was issued—I received nothing further—I had this letter of 20th June, 1891, from the prisoner. (This said that she imagined the payment was due the first week in July, instead of June, but as she had made a mistake she would be glad if Miss Crockford would wait for a fortnight, as she had been paying a good deal out lately, and some heavy accounts for last term were outstanding)—ultimately I proved in her bankruptcy—I received no dividend—I have only received two payments of £25.
Cross-examined. I believe it was said in the bankruptcy that I was not a partner—my father is here—an action was brought on my behalf to recover the money early in 1891—she told me at the time that she required more capital for the school because she had enlarged it recently in the previous September—I knew of Cornworthy House where the little children were; I knew nothing about Mrs. Banner—I said at the Police-court, "I let the prisoner have the £250 as I believed her school was a flourishing one, and that it would be a good investment"—I did not know I was to have a share in the school or that I was a partner at all—I don't know that she insisted that the parents were backward in paying her—she said she did not get money at the end of the term, but only about a fortnight after the beginning of the term; that was why she did not pay me at the time.
WILLIAM CROCKFORD . I am the father of the last witness; I live at 2, St. Peter's Road, Mile End—in November, 1889,1 went to the prisoner's house—we wanted to know her reasons for requiring the money, and she stated she was desirous of increasing her school, and had taken, or intended to take, another house, and wished to buy furniture and pianos, and she found herself rather short of capital; she stated that some of the parents did not pay punctually; she wanted money in hand, so that she should not be pressed—I asked her particularly if she wanted this money to pay debts, and if she had any debts; she assured me she had not—I pressed her on the point and said, "Surely you have some small debts?"—she said, "I pay my tradesmen and small accounts monthly"—I said I would not lend money if she had any debts; I impressed it on her as much as I could—ultimately I advanced to my daughter £250 for the purpose of her advancing it to the prisoner, as my daughter was desirous of employment; that was my only reason—I wrote some letters and received some—this (produced) is my cheque.
Cross-examined. I lent this money to my daughter—I knew she was going to have a share in the profits of the school to a certain extent—the object of getting that share was, as I knew the prisoner had no security to offer, to enforce the inspection of the accounts—after some discussion she offered the lease of the school as security, but I declined it—I knew nothing about the rent—I looked on it that she had no security to offer—she gave very good reasons why she wanted the money—I saw the agreement my solicitor drew up—I did not think anything about whether this would be a good investment; 5 per cent, was no gain to me—I only did it to oblige my daughter—£75 per annum for my daughter was not over-payment—I said if the prisoner wanted it
to pay off debts, or if she had debts, I should not lend it—I don't know if I expected after that that she would tell me if she had debts—I expected her to tell the truth—I understood by her saying she was not in debt that she did not owe any sums of money she could not pay—I should consider she was in debt if she had borrowed money of other people—I should not understand it to mean that she thought at the time she did not owe money she was not able to pay—I should not draw it so strictly as to mean that she did not owe sixpence to anybody—the matter was explained; she said her accounts were paid monthly, and if two months' accounts were due I should say she was in debt—the first instalment of £25, due by her in June, was paid long after that, and not without a great deal of trouble—the second instalment was paid eventually after a very long delay and the issue of a writ—then about July or August,. 1890, my daughter gave the prisoner six months' notice terminating the agreement; it expired on 14th February—the third instalment became due on the 15th February, 1891—the first instalment was paid on 15th. June, and the second instalment was due four months after 1st or 15th October; that was eventually paid—long before 15th February we had given notice terminating the agreement, but she went on teaching to the end of the term—the third instalment was not paid—on 13th February, before the instalment was due, we brought an action against her to recover the principal; my solicitor acted for us—I see that the writ of 13th February is to recover £250 and interest—I was told judgment was obtained against the prisoner, and then my solicitor garnisheed the debts due from the pupils' parents, and so smashed up the school; having done that, I and others presented a petition in bankruptcy in June, 1891—we could not find her before; she absconded, and took her furniture away at night—when we garnisheed the parents' debts she went to a much larger house in another place at £200 a year rent—when we presented the bankruptcy petition against her we knew she had borrowed money from other people, and we knew it when the garnishee order was made, not before—I did not say at the Police-court: "I believe I first found out that Mrs. Banner had advanced the prisoner money soon after Christmas, 1890"—it was some time after Christmas, 1890—my deposition was gabbled over to me at the Police-court, and I signed it—it was towards the end of March I first knew it; long before the bankruptcy proceedings we knew she owed several other sums of money—I did not know it before the garnishee order—the proceedings were before 9th April—I have never seen any of the documents, I only know from what my solicitor told me; I did not interfere from first to last beyond giving my solicitors instructions to act—early in April, before I took the bankruptcy proceedings, I saw the prisoner's brother—I don't know if he is a man in a good way of business, or a man of means; I know he has extensive shops—I said I would make his sister bankrupt—I did not tell him if he would not pay these debts I would make her bankrupt—I told him distinctly that we intended to make her bankrupt, and that probably the matter would not end there—a legacy of £500 came to her at Christmas, and she offered to pay money to my solicitor; she played with him for a long time, and then he found that she was encumbering the legacy with moneylenders, and I went and asked the brother to let it come into the bankruptcy, and it had the desired effect—the bankruptcy petition was not till June,
as we could not find her; she had run away—I went to her brother to persuade him, because he held the money, to keep, the money for the benefit of all the creditors, not myself specially—I did not know of other creditors—I said nothing about seeing him in April—my letter to him fixes the date when I saw him. (Part of the witness's deposition was read, as follows:—"Early in April I saw Cullen's brother. I said to Mr. Cullen I intended making his sister a bankrupt; I won't swear I did not say, "I will make her a bankrupt unless the matter is settled"; I said probably the matter would not end with making her a bankrupt; I referred to criminal proceedings")—I said he could infer what he liked; it was not at that date—I don't know that the prisoner did execute an assignment of the balance of the £250 legacy to the trustees for the benefit of her creditors—I was only present at one meeting, and never heard it—I know now that after my interview with the prisoner's brother he made an offer of £175 through my solicitors to settle my debt in order to avoid bankruptcy; I knew nothing of it then; I did not know it till the writ had been issued—I might have taken the offer, I cannot say—my solicitors did not submit the offer to me—the bankruptcy proceedings were concluded in September, 1891; I was away at the time—it was not until after the bankruptcy had been closed that any criminal proceedings were commenced against her—I presume she attended at the Court to sign her public examinations, and so on—I was in hopes of finding where our money had gone to, because it was a large sum that was made away with.
Re-examined. My daughter was teaching up to the Christmas holidays—between October and Christmas she was not paid for her services, nor the principal—when the bankruptcy proceedings were instituted I did not know of her debts to Miss Cruickshank, Miss Taunton, or Miss Noel—she informed me of her debt to Mr. Ellis, her brother-in-law; he proved in the bankruptcy, and that was the first intimation I had of it.
By MR. AVORT. I knew it was alleged in the bankruptcy that my daughter was a partner, and that in consequence of that she did not get her dividend with the rest of the creditors—her being constituted a partner under the agreement was a matter between my solicitors and me, and I decline to say whether I was angry with them.
ALBERT WILLIAM CLAREMONT . I am a solicitor, and a member of the firm of Haynes and Claremont, Marlborough Chambers, 49, Pall Mall—I was instructed by Mr. Crockford to prepare this contract—I sent the draft to the prisoner—she called at my office with the draft, and referred to clause 7, and said there were two friends of hers living at Corn worthy, and said, "If I tell them to go away I shall have to get someone else to take care of the place"—in consequence of that I inserted the proviso—I issued the writs against the prisoner on Mr. Crockford's instructions—the first judgment was enforced by the execution, and paid—a second time execution was issued, and the sheriff had to withdraw because there was a large arrear of rent, and nothing was paid.
Cross-examined. We acted for Mr. Crockford all through the matter—we instituted this prosecution—Miss Crockford did not get her dividend, not because the contract constituted her a partner, but because under the provisions of Bovill's Act if anybody lends money, and in consideration of it is to have remuneration dependant on the profits, that person must be postponed till the other creditors
are paid—my client was not rather angry about it; he never said so to me, and I never gathered that he was annoyed—on 13th February, 1891, a writ was issued against the prisoner, claiming the principal sum of £250, interest from 30th June to 31st December at 15 per cent., and interest from 31st December, 1890, to 13th February, 1891; £251 15s.—judgment was obtained on 4th March, and immediately after it was signed Messrs. Snell and Co., as her solicitors, called on me and offered to give as a security for the debt some charge on a legacy; I accepted it, and the charge was being prepared, and then there was a delay in settling the clauses, and I told them that as I found they were not prepared to give me the mortgage I should proceed to issue execution, which I did—that was in consequence of some disagreements about the terms of this mortgage—the mortgage I wished was simply security for the judgment—it would leave it open to my client to issue execution if necessary, the only question was whether we should have to go to the trouble of finding miss Cullen again to issue another writ—they agreed to pay my costs as between solicitor and client—that having failed, saw the prisoner's brother when le called on me—I did not snow he had seen my client—I never wrote to him until July—he came to see me on April 30th to offer £100 if I would stop the bankruptcy proceedings, which had commenced on 14th April, when I issued the bankruptcy notice—it was not served for a long time, because she could not be found, but it was afterwards served by substituted service—Mr. Cullen never offered me £175 in settlement, I swear—I refused his £100 offer on 30th April—I cannot say whether I refused it on my instructions, or whether I refused it after submitting it to Mr. Crockford—I did submit to him an offer of £100 and £25 costs, made by Mr. Kemble—on 20th June, just before the petition was coming on, the prisoner called and said that her brother would pay me £125, and she could find another £50 from another source—that makes £175—I did not believe it—I declined that offer; I did not submit it to Mr. Crockford—my costs would be nothing—I did not tell her that unless something more was offered criminal proceedings would be taken against her—I did not tell Mr. Cullen that at that date I did not know sufficient facts then to justify criminal proceedings—it was not until 28th July, 1891, that I knew the facts that would justify criminal proceedings—on 31st March I ascertained that the prisoner had borrowed money of Mrs. Banner—she was the only person I knew specifically she had borrowed money from—I could only guess by the difficulty of getting money from her that she was in some difficulty—it must have suggested itself to my mind, I think, that she was in difficult ties when I knew she had borrowed money of Mrs. Banner—it did not suggest itself to my mind when I drew up the agreement that the woman who signed it must be in very great difficulties—I cannot see anything peculiar in the agreement—after I had refuted the offer of £175 I wrote to Mr. Cullen to come and see me—at the first creditors' meeting in July the Official Receiver had rejected my client's proof; about two days after I heard that Mr. Cullen contemplated offering the creditors 10s. in the £, and I wrote asking him to see me, my object being to ascertain, if such a proposition existed, whether he intended to include the disallowed proof—I was not afraid if I did not get the 10s. that it would he said to be my fault for having drawn the agreement is that
way—Mr. Cullen did not call on me—I saw him at the Greenwich County-court at the prisoner's public examination—I do not think he said he had made an offer in order to avoid bankruptcy proceedings—I will not swear he did not—I cannot say what he said; I do not remember—he did not say that his offer of £175 was more than 10s. in the £; it would be more—the prisoner attended all the public examinations, and came up at the last hearing, a month after the public examination was completed, in order to sign the papers—I don't know if she attended on every occasion she was required; I don't know anything about it—on 8th September, 1891, I first took criminal proceedings—I did not then know that she had gone to Paris to get a situation—she was arrested in Paris by the French police in a situation of some sort there—I wrote on 15th January, 1891, to Mr. Travers, who was a solicitor (I don't know if he has a certificate now), thinking to make him responsible for this debt, because he had been a reference for the prisoner, "The financial position of Miss Cullen as subsequently disclosed, is wholly inconsistent with the state of affairs represented by your letter"—I inferred that her financial position was inconsistent with what had been represented; I had no precise facts before me.
Re-examined. I had not ascertained, when I wrote to Mr. Wire, that money was due to Mrs. Banner—at the time, of the negotiations with Mr. Cullen, in April, I had no such information with regard to the borrowing of money as was subsequently disclosed in the bankruptcy; all my information in April, 1891, was gained from an interview with Mrs. Banner's solicitor on 31st March.
By MR. AVORY. I garnisheed the debts due from the pupils' parents, and recovered £16, which we gave credit for in the bankruptcy proof—I have not refused to give the prisoner an account; I believe Mr. Wiltshire applied for an account, and that my firm supplied the information; if we did not it was an oversight.
By the COURT. I was instructed to take these criminal proceedings by Mr. Crockford, Mrs. Banner, and Dr. Maybruy collectively—I was acting first for Mr. Crockford, and I saw Mrs. Banner's and Dr. Maybury's solicitors, and we three solicitors came to the conclusion that we ought to prosecute—we each took instructions from our clients—after the bankruptcy was at an end we thought it a proper case to prosecute, acting simply from public patriotism.
AUGUSTUS CONSTABLE MAYBURY . In March, 1890,1 saw an advertisement in the Times, and went to see the prisoner—I inquired of her as to the nature of the lectureship, number of pupils, and so forth, and we arranged as to fees—she then asked me if I was willing to advance £200—she mentioned that she knew Mr. Lana, a scholastic agent and a friend of mine, and I went to see him, and he gave the prisoner a very high character and a satisfactory account of the school—I was assured it was a good school which she had built up—after that I agreed to advance £200 I paid her cheques for £50 on 29th March, £20 on 31st May, £10 on 28th June, £20 on 14th July, £20 on 15th January, and £10 on 26th January, making altogether £130—I was to receive 10 percent., one guinea per lecture, and a capitation fee, but I said that as the capitation fee was vague, I was to have one and a half guinea per lecture instead of the capitation fee—I think I gave her a course of about ten lectures in that term and about the same number in subsequent terms—she paid me back
£19 15s. about the middle of February—I proved in her bankruptcy for £158, and received £15 9s.
Cross-examined. I received the same dividend at the other creditors—I lectured on natural science—I submitted subjects to the prisoner, and gave her the choice—my fee it never lest than one guinea; it is sometimes six or seven guineas, according to the number of pupils—it was upon what Mr. Lana told me that I advanced my money; if he had given a bad account of the school I should not have done so—I brought an action against the prisoner, and got judgment and issued a writ, but could not serve it, and then the bankruptcy proceedings came on—Mr. Hunt first suggested making a criminal charge against her—I called on Mr. Claremont a short time after the prisoner left Tower House, before the bankruptcy was dosed, as far as I recollect, and before the public examination was finished, because I said I thought she would bolt, and Mr. Claremont said he thought not-my appointment as lecturer was apart from the loan—the arrangement as to capitation fees is one usually made at universities and colleges—I have not done it before—I have lectured at St. Thomas's Hospital—the prisoner accepted a bill of exchange for the amount.
ALLAN WILLIAM ELLIOTT . I am the register-clerk of Greenwich County-court—I produce a file of proceedings in the prisoner's bankruptcy—her liabilities were £2,022 11s. 1d.; unsecured creditors, £1,851—among unsecured creditors I find W. H. Ellis, Clovelly, Houston, £400, contracted in January, 1888, and 1890; W. H. Cullen, 544, Kingsland Road, £240, January, 1889, and 1891; Adelene Noel, Convent Ursule, £250, January, 1887; those are all cash; H. Richardson, 14, Upper George Street, £60, January, 1890, cash; John Talbot, 60, Finsbury Pavement, 1889 and 1890; Sophia Taunton, 8, Doughty Street, £200, August, 1889, consideration, money lent; security, lease of Richmond House and school, £150, unsecured—Miss Cruikshank is not mentioned.
Cross-examined. The prisoner attended all the bankruptcy proceedings voluntarily and punctually, signed all the necessary papers, and the bankruptcy was closed—after 4th September there was no further need of her attendance—in her statement of affairs she attributes her failure to low fees, high interest paid to money-lenders, and heavy expenses in keeping up the school—she answered voluntarily all questions about the debts she owed; in one case she corrected the date, and said she had borrowed the money earlier-than had been put down—I find among the assets £250, which had been deposited with her solicitors in May, 1891, for the benefit of her creditors, who have it now—Mr. Ellis, mentioned as a creditor for £400, is her brother-in-law—she explained as to Ellis and her brother that until the bankruptcy proceedings were taken neither of them had ever pressed for repayment.
GRACE CRUIKSHANK . I live at Lennox Lodge, Hammersmith—in 1888 I saw an advertisement in the Times, and went and saw the prisoner—subsequently I lent her £300, to take another house and increase the school—it was all repaid in September, 1890, but she owed me a year's salary.
Cross-examined. I had £120 a year for four hours' weekly teaching, and 5 per cent, on my money.
15th April, 1892, at Boulogne—she was handed over to me by the French police.
Cross-examined. I made inquiries; she was in employment in Paris teaching, and was arrested by extradition in the house she was teaching in, when she was in bed, I believe.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
The COURT disallowed the expenses of the prosecution,
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MESSRS. C. F.GILL and W. H.LEYCESTER Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
SELINA WILLIAMS . I am the wife of Robert Williams, of 14, Green Street Block, Westminster Road—on the night of 19th April I was in the bar of the Halfway House when Thomas Read came in, and asked to be served.; they served him, and the young barman Hurst came round and took the glass from his hand, and he and the manager, the prisoner, beat him very much, and struck him on the nose and forehead; they beat his head against the woodwork, and the prisoner caught him by the throat and threw him out, put him out of the door—the prisoner pulled the door open with one hand, and held it open with his foot—the deceased fell on the back of his head, and lay with his feet on the step, and his arms stretched out on the pavement, and his head on the pavement—I went to the top of Webber Street to look for a policeman; I could not find one, when I came back there was one there—it did not take more than ten minutes or a quarter of an hour from the time Read came in till he was put out.
Cross-examined. I had not been with Read that day before he came into the public-house—they did not refuse to serve him before this' occurred—I have known him about twelve years as a neighbour; I know his wife—the young barman is quite a boy, about seventeen—Read was a large man; he did not strike the boy in the mouth with his hat—there was a tall young man with Read; they came in together; they were in front of the bar; I was in the same compartment—I don't know that Read had been refused to be served in any other public-house that day—I did not call for a glass of whisky, and give it to him—Hurst did not jump over the counter and take the whisky away from him, and throw it on the ground—Read was not violent; the others were very violent to him—he never touched them—I am not in the habit of using this house; I go in sometimes—I am now living in Friar Street—this photograph (produced) correctly represents the front of the house—Read did not appear to be drunk—he did not stagger on the step, and fall down; he was put out by the two.
ROSE SEWELL . I am the wife of Jem Sewell, of 4, Grey Street, Westminster—on the night of this occurrence I was in a compartment of the Halfway House about seven—hearing a noise, I looked into the compartment where the deceased was, and saw the younger barman Hurst and the deceased having a row, what about I cannot tell; but
he was very violent to Hurst—the prisoner was called to assist him; he tried to keep the deceased from striking Hurst; he caught hold of him and tried to keep him; the deceased tried to strike Hurst over the prisoner's shoulder, and the prisoner, finding he could not control him, gave him a violent blow in the mouth, and getting him to the door, threw him out backwards, and he went down on the back of his head—I heard the noise made by his head coming in contact with the pavement, just like a cocoanut—I said to the prisoner, "Oh, Harry, you have killed the man"—the prisoner then tried to lift him up; I could not say exactly how he got hold of him, but he dropped him a second time—I could see that he was bleeding very much, from his nose and mouth; that was before his head came in contact with the pavement the second time—after a time, some people came; an ambulance was brought, and he was taken away—the deceased was a perfect stranger to me—his head hit the pavement when it was dropped.
Cross-examined. The prisoner picked his head up very carefully and tenderly the second time—the deceased was a much heavier man than the prisoner; he could not raise him off the ground—when Hurst and the deceased, were quarrelling together the prisoner came between them: the deceased was very violent—I heard Mrs. Loomes, the landlady, call the prisoner; I don't know where from—Mrs. Loomes was about eight months in the family way; her husband was away ill, and only the boy to serve behind the bar—the prisoner and Hurst got in front of the deceased and kept shoving him to get him out; the door was open, and he went out backwards—the deceased was the worse for liquor; I could not say he was drunk; I had been in the house about tan minutes before I heard the disturbance—I did not see a tall young fellow in company with the deceased.
Re-examined. All I saw was from the street looking into the compartment where the deceased was—I could see pretty well—I was close by—I was not inside, I was looking in at the door.
WALTER DAVIS . I am a carman, of 19, Waterloo Road—on this night I was outside the Halfway public-house, standing outside the middle door at the corner—I heard a noise in the bar, the door opened, and the prisoner threw the man out—he had his hands on his collar, on the throat, to lay hold of him—as the man fell one part of his head caught the gutter and the other part the kerbstone—the prisoner stood for a moment on the step of the door—he then went to the man's collar again, and pulled him like on to the pavement—I did not take much notice of his face; I saw very little blood.
Gross-examined. I had used the house about eighteen months before; I stopped going there all of a sudden—the prisoner and I were on friendly terms, we had made it up—I was not on the inquest, I took no interest in it—J was not called—I was not outside while it was going on; I was near—I had to shoot a load of rubbish at a building close by—I spoke about this matter to Mr. Pressy on the 16th—I did not speak to the police about it—I know Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and Charles Bennett, and James Mallison—I did not meet Mallison in Grey Street the night before the inquest, or have any conversation with him about the deceased—I did not say to him, "I would have given £20 if I had seen Wynne throw the man out"; "and I would give £5 to be on the inquest,"or anything to that effect—I never had the slightest word with Mallison
about the matter—I do not remember meeting Mr. and Mrs. Bennett on Saturday, 23rd April, in Grey Street—Mr. Bennett did not say to me, "Did you see anything of the accident outside the Halfway House?"—nor did I say, "I wish I had,"and ask if they knew anybody that was on the inquest—Mr. Bennett did not reply, "No, but I have heard that Hoppy was"—nor did I say, "I wish to God I was on the inquest, I would make it hot for him; I would give £5 to be on the inquest; I would give the b-twenty years"—not a word of that is true; it is a pure invention—the Bennetts are not friends of mine, nor enemies, that I know of—I know Harry Hyde; he works in my yard; I see him every morning—he asked me it I had heard what had occurred at the Halfway House—I did not reply, "Yes; but I was not there, I did not see anything of it; the man is dead"—I did not say to Hyde two or three days afterwards, "I happened to be in the next bar, and saw it all"—Hyde did not say to me, "That is a lie; you told me you were not there at all"; nor did I say, "It won't do to know too much; if I was on the inquest I would give him a lash every year for twenty years"—it is a falsehood—Hyde is not a friend of mine—he has no spite against me that I know of—I know Mr. Pressy, as a neighbour—I spoke to him before I gave my evidence, on 19th April, the day of the occurrence—I told him what I had seen; he saw the same as I did—the police afterwards came to me, I was out with my curt at the time—the inspector came to me and said. "I have been given to understand that you saw the accident at the Halfway House, that Pressy had told him I knew something about it"—I said I did not wish to be in it—I had No. conversation with Pressy till after I gave evidence at the Police-court—that was after the coroner's jury had give their verdict.
Re-examined. I am a master carman—I have lived in Grey Street all my life, and my father and brother also.
JOHN PRESSY . I am a boilersmith, of 29, Webber Street, very nearly opposite the Halfway House—on the night of this occurrence I was at my door, which is exactly twelve yards from step to step—I could see quite well. what took place; I saw the prisoner bring the man on to the step—he came out backwards, and struck his head on the kerb with a tremendous thud—he was not a friend of mine; I had never seen him before that afternoon, when I saw him drinking—after the prisoner bad thrown him out he stood for a second or two on the step, and when he saw what he had done he went and pulled his head round and dropped him again—I saw the man was bleeding from the nose and mouth; he was senseless—I saw Mr. Davis there; he did not speak to me at the time; he did just after—I went across immediately, as the prisoner was in the act of pulling Read out from the kerb—he was after-Wards taken away on an ambulance; they were going to mob the prisoner, and I told him to get inside out of the way, and he went inside.
Cross-examined. I was examined twice before the Magistrate; first on the 26th April, and a week afterwards was cross-examined by the prisoner's solicitor—after throwing the deceased out the prisoner did not catch him by the waist and dash him down to the ground again—he bashed him on the ground when he threw him out across the pavement—I told the Magistrate I could not see the person who threw him out—I did not want to have anything to do with it—I did see the person who threw him out; I told the Magistrate so afterwards.
WALTER COOMBES (122 L) On the night of 19th April, about half-past seven, I was passing Webber Street, and saw a man outside the Halfway House lying on his back across the pavement, bleeding slightly from the nose and mouth—I made some inquiries, and went into the house and saw the prisoner—I said, "You have thrown a man out"—he replied, "I was down in the cellar, and hearing a disturbance I went up into the bar, and saw him strike the bar boy in the face, and I jumped over the bar and ejected him"—I said, "What state was the man in?"—he said, "Drunk"—I then went outside and sent for another constable—I got an ambulance and took the man to the station, where he was seen by Dr. Henry, and then taken to the infirmary, where he died.
Cross-examined. He was a big heavy man—his head was close to the kerb and his feet about a foot from the house; a policeman is on fixed duty near the Victoria Tavern, formerly a theatre, and about 100 yards from the house.
ALFRED WARD (Detective Sergeant L). On the afternoon of 20th April. I went to the Halfway House—I saw the prisoner, and said, "I have come to see you respecting the man you threw out last night, and who died at four this morning, I am told from the effects of your violence; it is said you picked him up and threw him down with great violence; that the people opposite heard the thud from the fall"—he replied, "I was down in the cellar, and I was called up to a disturbance in the bar; I saw the boy barman having an alternation with a man about two-pennyworth of whisky; I got over the counter'; he was then near the door; he struck me, and he fell down on the pavement. I tried to pick him up, but could not; the crowd became so angry that I was obliged to go in doors"—I said, "I shall be obliged to take you to the station'—I did so, and afterwards to Southwark Police-court, where he was charged on the warrant; he made no reply—I know the district—the house is about 150 yards from the Victoria Tavern.
GEORGE PAYNE (Inspector L). I produce a plan of the spot in question—the distance from the centre of the door to the kerb at the corner of Grey Street is 18 feet 3 inches, and 5 feet 10 inches to the edge of the kerb, and to the nearest fixed-point man about 100 yards.
Cross-examined. It is a very rough neighbourhood.
GEORGE NICHOL HENRY . I am surgeon to the L Division—I saw the deceased at the Police-station, about half-past eight on the 19th—he was profoundly unconscious, and could not be roused—I ordered him to be sent to the infirmary—I noticed no blood on his face—I judged at the time that he was suffering from apoplexy or some skull injury.
ROBERT H. LLOYD I am a registered medical practitioner and superintendent of Lambeth Infirmary—the deceased was Drought there on Tuesday morning in an ambulance; he was quite insensible; he had slight bruises on the upper eyelids and an abrasion on the left hip—he never regained consciousness, and died about half-past three the following morning—I made a post-mortem examination—he died of a fractured skull at the side, just by the right ear, about five inches long, extending backwards—a man thrown out of a place and his skull coming in contact with the pavement would cause such a fracture—I saw no blood.
Cross-examined. He was about 15 stone in weight, a tall, heavy man.; it took four policemen to lift him—the bones of the skull were thinner
than normally; I could not judge whether he had been under the influence of drink; reeling and falling, with his weight, if in drink, would account for the injuries.
GEORGE PERCIVAL WYATT . I am one of the coroners for London—I held an inquest on the body of Thomas Head—the prisoner was examined at the inquest; having been cautioned, I took a note of his evidence—this is it: "On the 19th, about seven p.m., I was called up from the cellar; I saw the lad on the other side of the counter; the deceased was trying to strike him; another man had hold of the deceased's arms; there was a row. Knowing it was no use asking what was the matter, I got over the bar. The deceased was violent; he got his arms away and struck the lad in the face; he made a strike at me; I put my arm up to defend myself, and the deceased dropped to the ground. I did not strike him; I picked him up, put his hat on, and drew him to the door, and left him there; only one door was opened, the other is never opened. I stood at the door to see that the deceased did not come in again. I turned my head and saw him lying on the pavement. I went to raise his head; he was so heavy I could not. I stood at the door to call a constable; it is a general custom to call a constable. The deceased had been refused to be served."
Cross-examined. A man named George Stokes was called as witness—the prisoner's evidence was not real over and signed by him—the jury returned an open verdict
Witnesses for the Defence.
JANE LOOMES . I am the wife of James Loomes; he is the licensed holder of the Old Half way House—on the 19th April a boy named Hurst was in my service as barman; he is not now; he is about seventeen—my husband was away ill—I was in a delicate state of health—the prisoner is the manager—in the afternoon of the 19th the deceased Bead came in drunk; it was between six and seven—I told Hurst that he was not to be served—after seven I was in the private bar; I heard a disturbance in the bar; I went to see what it was—I saw Bead striking Hurst—I knocked on the floor for the prisoner to come up; he was in the cellar—he came up; I did not see what took place; I had to go away to serve a customer—I was examined at the inquest—I saw Walter Davis outside the Court alone—Mr. Pressy went out repeatedly to speak to him—I think Davis was outride the whole time the case was going on.
Cross-examined. I have known Davis since we have been there; three years—I did not send for a policeman on this occasion; there was not sufficient time, the house was so full; it was Bank Holiday—I did the best I could; I called for the manager, and left it to him—it was all over in an instant—when I had come back from serving the customer I believe the prisoner had gone down into the cellar again.
Re-examined. I could not see the door from where I was serving—the deceased was very violent.
HENRY HURST . I am now living at Sevenoaks—on 19th April I was at the Halfway House serving behind the bar—I don't remember Bead coming in—I saw him there between seven and half-past—my mistress told me not to serve him—Mrs. Williams was in the bar; she asked for some Irish whisky; I served her and she gave it to Bead—he appeared the worse for drink—I asked him for the money; he did not pay me,
and I tried to take the drink from him—I did not succeed in getting it; he struck me with his hat in the face—I got over the counter and tried to take the whisky from, him; he would not give it to me; he threw it on the floor; then I took the glass from him—he struck me with his fist in the jaw a hard blow—by that time the mistress had called the prisoner up—there were some other men interfering, and the prisoner got over the bar to stop them, and Bead struck him, and then fell down—the prisoner picked him up; we took him to the door, and then I let go of him—he was obstropolous, trying to punch at us—the prisoner put him outside; he did not throw him out; he put him outside the door, and left him there—he did not shove him; he caught hold of him—he was quite close to the door when I let go of him—he did not throw him out—he fell down about half a minute after the prisoner let go of him—he fell on the back of his head—a crowd then collected.
Cross-examined. They made some rather nasty observations, and we both had to go inside—they were threatening what they would do—we took Head to the door by his arms, and stood him outside on the step for nearly five minutes—he fell while we were standing there, to see that he did not come in again; he was stepping backward, and he reeled and fell—I saw him lying insensible on the pavement—the prisoner tried to pick him up but could not; we were going to him, but the crowd kept halloaing out to leave him alone; he was like a log—when we went inside a policeman came—I think the prisoner had gone down the cellar then—I nave not seen putting a man outside above twice; I have not been in the line long—as a rule' we used to go for a constable—the prisoner very rarely put them outside, not more than three times since I have been there; I was there three months—it took about two minutes to go for a constable.
Re-examined. The prisoner and I had been standing at the door about half a minute before the man reeled and fell—we did not think he was insensible, we thought he was drunk—I did not see any blood on his face.
GEORGE DEAN . I am a bricklayer's labourer, and live at 9, Grey Street—on the evening of the 19th April I was coming down Grey Street, within about ten feet of where this happened—I saw the prisoner putting a man out at the door—there is a little bit of a step there, about three inches high, and when the man got to the edge of the step he slipped round with his feet and fell right across the pavement—the prisoner had got hold of one shoulder—there were only me and two ladies at the door at the time; after the man fell of course there was a great crowd.
Cross-examined. I had not passed the house; I was opposite the door—I know the house; I don't use it as a regular customer, I go in occasionally; very seldom, because I am not a drinker—I saw this quite plainly; I only saw what happened at the door—there was no one with the prisoner putting the man out, that I swear—when he had put him out he did nothing; he stood in the doorway for a minute or so, and then went inside—I did not see the young barman at all—I stopped there about five minutes, and saw them shift the man from where he fell, and put him under the window, and he lay there some three-quarters of an hour; I did not go to his assistance—I was going on an errand into Waterloo Road—I saw the deceased after I came back; I did not notice his face—I was not there when they took him away—nobody asked me
to be a witness; I came here because I saw things in the papers that were not right; that was after the last hearing at the Police-court—I spoke to my brother-in-law about it—I came here voluntarily—I was subpœnaed this morning.
JAMES MALLISON . I am a house decorator, and live at 31, Grey Street—I have lived in the neighbourhood twenty-three years—I know Walter Davis; I saw him in Grey Street the night before the inquest—I said to him, "There has been another go in Webber Street"—he said, "Yes, I wish I had seen it, I would have given £20"—I said, "Would you?"—he said, "Yes, I would five £5 to be on the inquest."
Cross-examined. I nave known Davis many years—he is a respectable man—when I said "another go in Webber Street"I meant another row; I thought it was a thro wing-out business at the time—I knew there was a man in Webber Street thrown out of Rice's—I should not have come up if I had not seen Davis's evidence in the paper, and then I thought he was a villain to say he had seen it when he had not—I did not think he was joking; he treated it quite seriously.
Reexamined. There are two Halfway Houses in Webber Street—Davis mentioned the man's name that he would give twenty years to; it was the prisoner.
ISAAC CHARLES BENNETT . I am a journeyman plasterer, of 56, Grey Street—I have lived in the neighbourhood twenty-four years—I know Walter Davis—on 23rd April I saw him outside his gate; my wife was with me—he asked me if I had seen anything of this case occurring at the Old Halfway House—I said no—he said he wished he had seen it; did I know anyone that was going on the inquest?—I said, "No; only I have been told a man they call Hoppy was"—he said, "Where does he live?" I said, "Opposite you, I believe"—he said, "I wish I was going on the inquest; I would give £5, and make it b—hot for him; I would give £20 to get on the trial, and I would give the b—twenty years; at all events I will go up and give him a character."
Cross-examined. I use the house occasionally—I don't use Rice's house; I have not been there for six or eight months—I charged him once with an assault, with throwing me out of the public-house; he was committed for trial, and bound over to keep the peace—I took it out in money; they gave me money—I saw nothing of this occurrence—I read Davis's evidence in the paper; that made me speak—I know Mr. Pressy; I know nothing against him—I made no note of this conversation; I thought no more of it.
Re-examined, read Davis's evidence before the Magistrate in the evening paper—I did not go to the prisoner's solicitor; I spoke to Mallison about it.
MARIA SARAH BENNETT . I was with my husband in Grey Street on 19th April, and saw Davis outside his gate—he said to my husband, "Did you see the case at the Half way House?"—he said, "No"—the prisoner said, "I wish I did, for if I had seen it I would have given £20, and if I could get on the jury I would give £5; and not only that, if I can get there to give him a character I will, for I have got it in for him,"and he swore bad language—I afterwards read in the paper the evidence he gave, and I and my husband had a chat about it.
Cross-examined. I took no particular notice of this conversation till I saw the evidence in the paper—Mr. Mallison read it the same as I did—
I know Mr. Pressy; I know nothing against him—I have known Davis a good many yean—I don't know the prisoner, no farther than by going for my supper beer; he generally served me—I never spoke to him or he to me about this ease—my husband and I went in there and said what a shame it was for Davis to give such evidence, when he told us he knew nothing about it—I hardly know what remark the prisoner made—I did not take particular notice; I have been in there every night since; I never mentioned it.
Re-examined, Davis said this on the Saturday, and I read his evidence in the paper the day the prisoner was committed for trial.
HARRY HYDE . I live at 66, Webber Street—I work for my grandfather, a blacksmith; his place of business is up Davis's yard—on 20th April I saw Davis at the gate of his yard—I asked him if he had beard anything about the Halfway affair—he said, "Yes; but I was not there; I did not see it"—two or three days after he said, "I was there; I was in the next bar"—I said/4 It's a lie, because you told me you were not there"—he said, "Yes I was; but it won't do to know too much"—I afterwards read his evidence in the paper, and I thought it my duty to come here—at the same time he said he should like to give him twenty years, and a lash each year to remind him of it—I am eighteen years old—I have always been friendly with Davis up to the date of this case.
Cross-examined. I became unfriendly because I was having a game in the yard with my chum, and he threw my cap on the ground; I picked it up, and Davis said I had thrown it to break his windows; I denied it, and asked him to show me the window, and he said, "Oh, the last time"—since then we have not been good friends—there has been a good deal of talk about this ease in the neighbourhood—I went to the house and told the prisoner what Davis had said to me—he told me to write it down, and then I went to see his solicitor.
INSPECTOR PAYNE (Re-examined). I asked the witness Davis to attend the inquest—he would not do so, and gave me the reason.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY Proeecuted.
JOSEPH STEVENSON . I am the master of the workhouse of the parish of St. Giles, Camberwell, in Gordon Road, Peckham, and have been so for nearly thirteen years—Earish is porter and his wife portress at the same workhouse—I have different rooms from them—the Earish's have been there a month or two longer than I—the prisoner has been an inmate of the workhouse on and off for twelve years before any of these accusations were made I asked him to do different acts of whitewashing in different parts of the workhouse—I never heard any complaints from him before these letters—I know his handwriting—I believe this letter of 19th May, 1892, to be his writing; it is addressed to Mr. Earish—this other letter, of the 20th, is addressed tome—(Read: "15, Dorton Street. Stevenson, remember eleven years ago I told you in your office if it lay in my power to injure you legally I should, if it was twenty years hence. Now it lies in my power. I will wait no longer than twelve to-night, and then in all directions go the letters. Myself, I have nothing to lose; when two such men play with me, it is playing with edged tools. Tomorrow
will be too late")—I did not answer that letter—this is another letter of the prisoner's—I only received one—this was not read at the Police-court,
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You bore a good character as an industrious man in the workhouse—I cannot recollect your character being brought before the committee—I would not say a word against you—I have no enmity towards you—I never was your enemy.
By the COURT. I cannot understand it, but the prisoner is only one of scores of men in good health with fair education in the workhouse from year's end to year's end; sometimes they are out a little in the summer, and return.
SIDNEY BEX . I am a sergeant in the Criminal Investigation Department—on Saturday. 21st May, this letter was given to me by my Superiors, and I went to see the prisoner about it at 15, Dorton Street, St. George's Road, Camberwell—I told him I was a police officer, I had called respecting a letter he had written to the Commissioners of Police—I showed him the letter—he said, "That is quite right"—I said, "I want you to tell me about it, tell me all you know"—I took a note of what he said—this is it: "My motive in writing is simply revenge, and to get my own back. I was an inmate of Gordon Road Workhouse, and did all their private correspondence and dirty work. A man named Edmund Earish is gateporter there, and his wife assistant matron, and has charge of the stores. For a length of time a considerable quantity of materials, consisting of calico, bed ticking, dress stuff, boots, etc, have been taken out by different inmates. A bed tick was pawned on 11th September, 1891, at Jackson's, in New Church Road, Camberwell, by Mrs. Hardiman, 15, Dorton Street, my landlady; a blanket was also pawned for 3s. at same place 7fh May, 1892, by my daughter, Amelia Greenwood. She has been in the habit of going to the workhouse weekly, Fridays and Saturdays, and bringing stuff of all description* out, the price of silence for work done. I have within the last month brought out boots given to me expressly to be pawned. That is sufficient for you to go on with. I have written similar letters to the one you have, to the chairman and other guardians. I know, strictly speaking, by law I am liable to be placed in the dock with them. I do not mind that; £100 would not pay me for what I have done. The porter is on duty at the gate, and must see the things come out, as they cannot be put in one's pocket. You can see me any day between 11.30 and 1, and any time after 8 in the evening"—I went to him again on Tuesday, 24th May, about seven o'clock—I did not see him—another officer took him into custody on 27th. (The letter was addressed to the chief of the Detective Department, Scotland Yard, it accused the porter and portress of theft, and desired an officer to be sent to the prisoner's house, 15, Dorton Street, for information.)
Cross-examined. You handed a letter to Neil, which you had written to the Chief Detective, but which you had not posted, also six pawn-tickets.
EDMUND EARISH . I am employed by the Guardians of St. Giles, Camberwell, as porter at the Gordon Road Workhouse, Peckham—I have been employed by them close on fourteen years—I am still employed there—my wife is portress—the prisoner has been in the house twelve years on and off—he has been employed to paint, wash, assist me with
the bundles, take in clothes and change them on different occasions—the first I knew of his threats was my wife showing me the letter of 16th May to her—it is in his writing, I know it well—I did not answer it (The Utter commenced: "Do not think for a moment I wish to cause you a Pang, far from it, for believe me, with all my faults, you are very dear to me,"and stated there woe a gang who had it in their power to move both Mrs. Earish and her husband from their place; that he had obtained information from the books, which, coupled with what he knew, might be useful to him, and"to put the matter plain to Mr. Stevenson, am I to be an enemy or a harmless body?"requesting £3 10s. for passage to New York, and twenty sovereigns should be demanded of Mr. Stevenson when the prisoner had proper clothes and his trunk packed ready to travel to New York to get clear of everybody. If refused, they would leave Gordon Road at once, or things would be "lively")—on the 19th I got a letter which I did not answer, and on the 20th a telegram, of which I took no notice—I also got another letter three or four days afterwards—the letters are in the prisoner's writing. (These urged the witness to get the money sent before toe late, as he had communicated with the police)—I also received a further letter, in prisoner's writing, demanding £6 for passage and £20—the enclosure was from Mr. Stevenson. (This was dated 23rd May, acknowledged the prisoner's letter, and appointing "to-morrow"for the prisoner to attend the Gordon Workhouse committee)—there is no truth in the accusations against my wife to my knowledge—she is still employed by the guardians, but she has sick leave.
Cross-examined. You removed my property to be warehoused at 8, Sidney Street, Chelsea—I did not give you a pair of workhouse blankets to take away with you—I never gave you anything; I knew you.
AMELIA EARISH . I have been employed by the guardians thirteen years—I have been ill six weeks—the prisoner has accused me of different things—what he says is utterly false—J remember the letter commencing "Do not think for a moment I wish to cause you a pang"; I think it was opened by my husband—I did not see all the letters; I was away ill—I did not answer them—I have not carried off stores without permission.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Your daughter came to see me—I did not give her a pair of blankets and a pair of boots.
ARTHUR NEIL (Detective P). I received this warrant—I went to the prisoner's lodgings, 15, Dorton Street, St. George's Road—I read it to him—the charge is that he did feloniously send to one Edmund Earish, knowing the contents thereof, a letter demanding from the said Edmund Earish, with menaces and without reasonable and just cause, the sum of £20, contrary to the Statute—he said, "All right; I have expected this"—I took him to the station—the charge was read over—he said, "I have my own defence"—he handed me a letter containing six pawnbrokers' duplicates—the letter was addressed to the Chief of the Detective Department, Scotland Yard—he also handed me a quilt—they were produced at the Police-court—he said, "I intended to post the letter to the Commissioner of the Police to-night; now I shall want it at the Police-court,"and of the quilt he said, "I shall want that produced at the Police-court."
The prisoner, in hit defence, said since the loss of his employment, and afterwards his wife, through distress, he had lost heart. Be understood Earish would help, and he acted in ignorance of the law.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
He received a good character, and it was stated by his brother that he had suffered from sunstroke, and had also had a severe accident to his head.— Seven years' Penal Servitude.
MR. PASMORE Prosecuted.
ANNIE RUSSELL . I am the wife of Charles Russell, of 74, Amelia Street, Walworth—the prisoner and the deceased both lodged in my house; Smith from the first week in February, and the prisoner for a fortnight on the day he was taken—on Tuesday night, 24th May, about twelve, I was in bed; I heard the prisoner come in with his key; I heard a bit of a noise, and heard him challenging Smith to come out—I went out of my room and said, "Let us have peace to-night, young man,"for the night before Smith had quarrelled very much, and coupled him with it—the prisoner said, "No, Mrs. Russell, I can't; I will nave him out for the insults I received last night"—the Smiths were very quarrelsome people, and I gave them notice to leave at Christmas, but they begged to remain; they came as man and wife, but it turned out she was only living with him—after the prisoner said this he went straight out into the street, and very soon after I heard the Smiths go out together—she said to Smith, "Get up and give him something,"but I did not hear that, I was in my room—they did not appear to be out long, perhaps a quarter of an hour, when I heard one of the lodgers in the first floor say, "There is one of the men down, "and they ran out—my son also went out, and he assisted to bring Smith in—he appeared insensible—I went up to their room, but she would not let me in—I went back to my room and went to bed—very shortly after I heard the prisoner come in and go to his own room—after that Mrs. Smith called me up, saying she thought lie was dead—the prisoner came out of his room and went up, and I believe he said he would fetch the police—I never saw the prisoner and deceased speak to each other, except on the Sunday before; they passed the time of day to each other—Smith went to his work, and the prisoner went out between nine and ten; they never met that I am aware of.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Smith commenced his row the night before, between eleven and twelve, and kept it up till three in the morning—I heard him say he would fight you with one hand.
ALFERD ANDERTON . I live at 7, Belfield Road, Surrey Gardens—on Tuesday, 24th May, shortly after midnight, I was on my road home, and saw these two men fighting; they struck a few blows; both went to the ground, the prisoner on the top—I pulled him off and he went away—I followed him to the bottom of the street; I could not see which way he went—I should not think more than six blows were struck; they both fought—the deceased laid there with his arms wide open, and I think the landlady and a young man carried him into the house.
Cross-examined. I saw you come out of the house fighting; I saw no foul play.
SARAH ANN SMITH . I lived with the deceased at 74, Amelia Street—on the Monday night we had a quarrel, and Smith said to me, "Go down to the man downstairs"—that was the prisoner—on the Tuesday afternoon I was out with the landlady having a drink or two—we came hack about half-past eight, and Smith had put a box against the door and I could not get in—I went down to the landlady, and said for peace and quietness I would stop there till half-past twelve—near midnight Smith came in—about twelve the prisoner came in—he asked Smith what he had said on the Monday evening, and asked him to come down for an understanding—I came out of the landlady's room and said, "Who wants my Charlie?"—Smith went down—I ran out without my boots, and he was down on the ground—some little-time afterwards the prisoner was running away, and Mr. and Mrs. Harvey, who lived in me next room, and the landlady's son and myself, earned him upstairs, and I got some water and put on his forehead—he never spoke after that; he died very soon after.
Cross-examined. On the Monday Smith kicked up a row—I don't remember his saving he would fight you with one hand—he had been drinking, and I had been drinking.
JOHN SHANAHAN (291 L). On the morning of 25th May I was called to 74, Amelia Street—I saw the deceased there, lying on the bed dead—I found the prisoner at the entrance door—the fast witness said, "That is the man that murdered my husband"—I took him into custody—he said, "I did not do it, I told a policeman previously"—he was quite sober.
CORNELIUS BRANWHITE (Inspector L). I received the prisoner in charge; he was sober—he made a statement, which I took down, and he signed it—this is it: "About eleven at night I went home; this man was rowing the night previous; as I was coming in to-night he was coming out at the door; I hit him; after that I saw a lot of coal hammerers come out of the beer-shop opposite, and I went away; I came home at a quarter to one, and saw him lying on the bed; I thought he was dead, and ran for a policeman."
WILLIAM. RACE (Inspector L). About half-past two on the morning of 25th May I charged the prisoner with the manslaughter of Charles Smith—he said, "I scarcely could have hit him, for he fell almost immediately."
WALTER ALFRED MARSH . I am a surgeon, of 17, Kennington Park Road—shortly before one in the morning of the 25th May I was called to 74, Amelia Street—I found the deceased lying on his back on the bed, dead—he had been dead probably about an hour—I afterwards made a post-mortem—I found several dots of blood at the base of the brain, and the vessels generally very much congested—the brain substance was diseased, in a softened condition—the heart was smaller than usual, and flabby, and there was a deposition of fat on the external surface; the liver was enlarged—all that means that he was a heavy drinker—one kidney was in a very congested condition, and there was some hemorrhage in the coat of the stomach—the cause of death was the clots of blood on the brain—there was no fracture of the skull—bleeding had evidently taken place from several vessels instantaneously; the degenerate state of the brain would make the consequences all the more easy—probably death might be produced in a man of that condition by blows that would not hurt a healthy man; there were no
scalp wounds and no contusions; there was a very slight mark on the jaw, that rather points to the blows not being very serious; if there had been a very heavy blow I should have expected to find more contusion he was about twenty-five years of age.
Cross-examined. There was a small bruise on the chest—from the state he was in I think a slight accident would have caused his death.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "This man was a very quarrelsome man. On the night previous he was kicking up a row; he wanted to challenge me out to fight, but I was sober; seeing the man was the worse for drink I did not take any notice of him. I saw him the night afterwards at eleven, and asked him for an explanation of the night previous. He came at me in a fighting attitude; I put up my hands to defend myself, as any Englishman would do; we both fell. I saw some man run by the road. I am a perfect stranger in the neighbourhood, and thinking this man was one of his confederates I ran away. On getting home the woman said, 'My husband is dead; he has been murdered.' I thought he was dead, and I fetched a policeman) and stopped there and explained it."
Prisoner's Defence. He was a very quarrelsome man; he has not died from violence. He saw a child run over, and with his complaints the fright might have caused his death; I am not the aggressor.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
666. GEORGE CATES (26) PLEADED GUILTY to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Charles Hale, and stealing a coat and other articles, and to a previous conviction of felony. **— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COLLINS Prosecuted, and MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and ROACH Defended.
JOHN CANNON . I am a chimney-sweep, of 28, Kintore Street, Bermondsey—on 7th June, between eight and half-past, I was in the King's Arms, Old Kent Road, with my sister and her husband—the prisoner, whom I knew well, came in with his knife in his hand—he said, "Come on, Cannon; I want to fight you"—I said, "All right"—I looked down and saw the knife, and said, "Put your knife away like a man; you don't want to do any cowardly action to me; come outside, and I will fight you like a man"—we went outside—he said, "Come up here,"meaning a kind of gateway where cabs go to stop all night—I said, "No, I am not going up there to get a booting; come out into the road"—he then came out between the urinal and the public-house—I went to spar up to him, he still had the knife in his hand as if it was a dagger; I think it was an ordinary penknife; I could see the blade, not the handle—I said again, "Put your knife away; I will fight you; come on"—I went to spar at him; he made a dig at me, then I went to turn, and he stabbed me through the back in the shoulder-blade; if I had not turned I daresay I should have got it on the head—I ran a few yards and jumped on a tram, and the prisoner came after me by the side of the tram for some way till his pals pulled him away—I went to the station and had my wound sewn up by a doctor—I went with the detective to look for the prisoner, and saw him about half-past twelve or a quarter to
one coming to make another hit at me in the Old Kent Road, while the two detectives were behind the coffee-stall—they claimed him.
Cross-examined. This happened on. Whit-Tuesday in the Old Kent Road—I had four or five people with me; Hedley, a young fellow I am generally with, was one of them; he had no knife with him, I am sure—at three in the afternoon he had; I cannot say if he was in the habit of carrying one—my sister Mary Ann Blackett and her. husband and Edgeley, for whom he works, were there with me—the prisoner walked into the public-house with a mob; his mob met mine—we had no sticks or knives—I did not use a knife—I have been convicted of using a knife, and sentenced to fifteen months for it—the jury. brought it in common assault—the man who appeared against me said I hit and knocked him down—witnesses said I had a knife in my hand—that was about two and a half years ago—that is the only time I have been accused of that kind of assault—I never assaulted the police—I was charged on a warrant with breaking some windows, and got six months—I have also had twelve months—I have had three convictions for assaults—in 1882 I had eighteen months for felony—I am not called the terror of the neighbourhood; I have a wife and four children to support—I should live peaceably if they would let me alone—I had no objection to a friendly spar with the prisoner—I was not hitting him over the head with a stick when someone interfered; the stick was taken out of my place at a quarter to twelve, when I was out—I was not attacking an old lady—I did not show my knife in the public-house; I had no knife—his mob came in to pay me, a crowd collected round us in the middle of the road, but the prisoner was the only man in front of me—I was hot stabbed in the confusion by one of my own friends.
Re-examined. I did not draw a knife, nor did any of my friends—on this occasion they broke into my place and stole the stock.
JOHN MARSHALL , M. E.C. P. I attended to the prosecutor's wound on 7th June—it was a punctured wound, about one and a half inches deep in its deepest part, in the centre of the upper part of the back; it was not dangerous; but he had lost a great deal of blood—I should think that the wound could have been caused by the larger of the two blades of the penknife I saw at the station—it must have been a violent blow.
EDWARD EDGELEY . I am a furrier, of 6, Amelia Road, Spa Road—a little after eight p.m. on 7th June I was in the King's Arms with Cannon, when the prisoner came in and said, "Cannon, I am going to fight you"—the prisoner had a knife in his hand—Cannon said, "Put the knife away and come outside and I will fight you"—they went outside and started sparring; the prisoner still had the knife in his hand—Cannon turned to get away, and the prisoner stabbed him in the back—Cannon jumped on a passing tramcar.
Cross-examined. There were eight or nine people with the prisoner and half-a-dozen with us, and about twenty people looking on—I carry a penknife; it is at home now—I had it in my pocket upon that day while the fight was going on—it is a pretty large knife—I have known Cannon a great many years, and am rather a friend of his—I had been drinking with him the greater part of this day—he had a bit of a row on that afternoon—I have only been out with him twice—knives were not used"in the afternoon—Cannon had no knife that I know of; I will not swear he had not—he had no stick—in the public-house an
old lady spilt some beer over him, and lie said, "Hold up, old lady;" and she said her son Ted would fight—Cannon did not do anything to her; people did not interfere to protect her because Cannon was going to strike her—of the six persons with Cannon only I and Mary Blackett gave evidence at the Police-court—when Cannon was stabbed there was a cry, "Look out for the knife!"—I saw no stick—I was told they had been to Cannon's house—when Cannon jumped on the tram I went to look for a friend.
Re-examined. I expect the other people standing round were poor, and would have to leave their work to come here—I drew no knife on this evening, nor did my friend.
MARY ANN BLACKETT . My husband, Edward Blackett, is carman to the City Sewers; we live at 6, Little Lant Street—I was in this publichouse on 7th June with my brother, the prosecutor—the prisoner rushed in, and said, "Come on, Cannon, I want to fight you"—he had a knife in his hand—my brother said, "All right; put that chiv away and I will fight you"—we all went outside; the prisoner wanted my brother to go up a gateway, and my brother said he would not go up there to be kicked to death—they went into the road and got into a fighting attitude; I saw the knife in the prisoner's hand then, and when my brother saw it he turned and went about two steps to run away, and the prisoner stuck the knife in his back—it was a penknife; I could not say if this is it.
Cross-examined. Five or six men came into the public-house behind the prisoner; only one young man accompanied my brother outside; there was only me, my brother, and Edgeley when they were going to fight—my brother had no stick—I had not been with him before six o'clock—the prisoner challenged him to fight without any provocation—there were a lot of people standing round, and there was a great deal of confusion.
JAMES SCANDRETT (Sergeant M). I arrested the prisoner about halfpast one a.m. on the 8th in the Old Kent Road, at the corner of Bermondsey New Road—I was with the prosecutor and other officers—I told the prisoner the charge—he said, "All right, governor; I will go quietly with you."
Cross-examined. On the way he asked what the charge was, and I said, "Stabbing"—he said, "He is a nice man to charge another with stabbing; I suppose you know what he has done for stabbing?"—I said, "Yes, I know ail about him"—at the station the prisoner gave me this knife, which he took from his right-hand trousers pocket—I had not asked him for it.
Cross-examined. I examined the blade very minutely—I could not find any blood on it—it was given to the surgeon.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not stab him; I challenged him to fight. Í call witnesses."
Witnesses for the defence.
HENRY KING . I live at 5, Hunter's Place, "Weston Street, Old Kent Road—On Whit-Tuesday night I saw a crowd of people outside the King's Arms—I saw the prosecutor going to hit the prisoner on the head with this stick—I and two other men, strangers to me, took it away—I saw the
prosecutor having a fight in the afternoon—there were so many people you could not tell who they were—it was at nine o'clock, as near as I can say, I saw the prosecutor in the street—after taking the stick away I went home, and don't know what happened afterwards.
Cross-examined. I have told you all I saw at nine o'clock—I did not see the prisoner use a knife, nor did I see the prosecutor stabbed—I did not see the whole of the row.
GEORGE COLLINS . I live at 13, Clarendon Street—on "Whit-Tuesday I saw a crowd outside the King's Arms, and Cannon and the prisoner were going to fight—I saw no blows struck; a constable arrived and dispersed the crowd, and that was all I saw—there was a large crowd running towards the King's Arms before I saw that—I was examined at the Court below.
HENRY POCKNELL . I live at 6, Ansdown Place, Tabard Street, and am a fish-curer—I saw a row outside the King's Arms on this Tuesday, between eight and nine, and I saw the prisoner and prosecutor having a few words, and a crowd of people round them—the prosecutor hit the prisoner on the head with a stick; a constable came up, and the prosecutor ran away—the prisoner went away—the potman dispersed the crowd; the fight was over, and they went away.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor did not hit the prisoner with the stick. two men took it from him—he would have if they had not done so—I saw no more of the row—the prosecutor was not stabbed in my presence; he might have been for all I know.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.—** Twelve Months' Hard Labour ,
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
DAVID COX (Police Inspector L). On 13th. June, about eleven a. m, I was with Detective Darby in Blackfriars Road, and saw Davis crossing from Southwark Street and go into the Cross Keys public-house—became out in a few minutes with a woman named Nolan; they crossed over towards Southwark Street, and went into the King John's Head public-house—after remaining there a short time I entered the next compartment, where I saw Reeves and a man not in custody, with the other two—I knew Reeves personally—they were there twenty minutes or half an hour—Reeves said, "Give me one to put in at the greengrocer's shop"—I knew the man and knew his voice—the woman said, "Save it till we come back"—I went but and communicated with Darby—shortly afterwards they all four came out and stood outside about fifteen minutes talking together; they then separated, Davis and Nolan going in one direction and Reeves and the other man down Southwark Street—I followed Reeves and the other man to Sumner Street, where we saw them all meet—they stood talking together some short time, and I saw Davis hand something to Reeves and the other man—I then crossed over with Darby to arrest as many of them as I could; they saw me, and ran away—Nolan then left Davis, and went to an ice-cream barrow close by, and made a small purchase, and as she returned I caught hold of Davis, and told Darby to detain Nolan—I said to Davis, "We are police officers; what are you, this woman, and the other two men loitering about here for?"—he said, "Nothing; I don't
know this woman; I have only just met her here"—I said, "I am going to search you, to see what you have about you"—he said, "All right"—I had seen Nolan in Davis's company close upon an hour—I searched Davis, and found this parcel in his waistcoat pocket, pulled it on one side, and told him what it was—I opened it at the station—it contained eight counterfeit half-crowns, with paper between them—I also found on Davis 5s. 6d. in silver and fourpence, good money.
LAURENCE TURNER . I keep the Joiners' Arms, Westminster Bridge Bead—on 4th June Beeves came in for a pot of ale, which he drank, and gave me a bad double florin—I put it between my teeth; it was sandy and gritty and very soft—my teeth sank into it, and I said, "It is bad"—he said, M What is the matter with it?" and laid down fourpence in coppers—I said, "It is bad; I will give you the change in the morning"—I then told him to go and fetch a constable; he went out and did not come back—two or three days afterwards I put the coin in the kitchen fire a cooking fire, and it melted quickly—about a fortnight afterwards I picked out Reeves from a number of men at Southwark Police-court.
ERNEST TURNER . I am employed by Mrs. Turner at a coffee-house in London Road, Southwark—on 6th June, between 7 and 7.30 a.m., Beeves came in for a pint of coffee and half a tea-cake—he gave me a half-crown; I put it in the till where there was no other, and gave him 2s. 3 1/2 d, change—I found it still in the till half or three-quarters of an hour afterwards; I hadn't placed any other half-crown in in the meantime—I saw that it was a dark colour, and took it up and weighed it in my hand, and saw that it was bad; it was light and smooth—this is it; I kept it in a little box about two weeks, and then gave it to Camber—I afterwards picked Beeves out at the station from several others; I am sure he is the man.
ALFRED CAMBER (Detective L). On 13th June, about 7.45 p.m., I was in Waterloo Road, and saw Beeves standing outside the George publichouse—I said, "lama police officer, and shall take you in custody on suspicion of being a man wanted for being concerned with a man and woman in custody for passing counterfeit coin"—he said, "Why did not you arrest me at the time?"—I said, "I was not with the other officers at the time"—he said, "Then you have made a f—fool of yourself this time, for you know I have been in the infirmary, and only left on Thursday week; I have been in there with my eyes again"—I took him to the-station; Cox identified him—when he was charged he said, "Why did not Mr. Cox arrest me at the time, if I was there? you would have done it yourself, as I could have done you Some good, as that was the meet"—I searched him, and found a watch and ninepence in bronze—I was at the Police-court when Ernest Turner picked out the prisoner from six others—he handed me this coin.
By the COURT. I arrested Beeves from a description—I did not know he had been in the infirmary.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to H. M. Mint—these eight half-crowns are counterfeit; five of them are from the same mould—they are wrapped up in the usual way, with a piece of paper between each to prevent them rubbing—this other half-crown is counterfeit—as to the double florin, it being sandy when placed between the
teeth is a sign of it being bad, as is also its running through when placed in the fire.
Reeve's statement before the Magistrate: "I don't know these people, and was not in their company."
Witness for the defence,
James Davis (The prisoner). I am a dealer; 99, Bed Gross Street, Borough, was the last place I resided at; that is a common lodging house—I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I have only known Beeves since I have been in custody—he was not with me on the morning I was taken in charge, nor when Cox came to me—he was not at the King John's Head with me.
Cross-examined. I was charged at this Court in 1890 with uttering counterfeit coin, having other counterfeit coin in my possession, and sentenced toeighteen months' hard labour.
Reeves' defence. I was taken on suspicion of being with a man and woman who I had never seen before. The gentleman says I gave him a bad half-crown; if so, why did not he detect it at once? I have been in the hospital seven weeks. I think it very hard an innocent man should be charged.
REEVES— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on April 21st, 1890, of unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession.— Three Years' Penal Servitude , DAVIS then PLEADED GUILT** to a conviction at this Court on 20th October, 1890, of unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
EDWARD DARBY (The witness's former evidence was also read to him, to which he assented, and added): I arrested Nolan just leaving the ice-cream barrow, and said, 'What are you loitering about here for?' She said, 'I have not pinched nothing'; that means I have not stolen anything. I said, 'I did not say you had.' I lifted up her shawl, and at that moment I saw Cox with something in his hand, and from what he said I said I should take her in custody for being concerned with the other men in passing bad money. I lifted up her apron, and made her turn out a large pocket underneath, where we found a good shilling and 5 1/2 d. She said at the station, 'I deny being in the men's company, and do not know that man,' meaning Davis.
Cross-examined by the prisoner, I did not say, "What have you been drinking this morning?"
EMILY BARBER . I am female searcher at Kennington Road Police-station—I searched the prisoner on June 13th, and found a shilling and 5d. in bronze—she said "It is hard for the innocent to be blamed; I should not care if I had been with the man, but I had never seen him before."
Cross-examined. You did not say you had never seen the men before—you said the man.
infant's shirt, price 4 3/4d., and gave me a half-crown—I found it was bad, and tried it in the tester; it was not nearly full weight—I put it in the drawer of a desk, and it broke in three pieces—I took it to Mr. Pickford, the manager, in the other shop—he came back and spoke to her, and she was given in custody, but the charge was not gone on with—I afterwards saw her with two others at Southwark Police-court, and identified her.
Cross-examined. You said that I had better take it to Mr. Pickford, and ask him whether it was bad—I bounced it three times on the counter and said, "It bounces all right, but it is not full weight"—you told Mr. Pickford that you got it by selling flowers, and gave your address, 24, Grey Street, Waterloo Road—I did not hear you say that if he was not satisfied he had better send for a policeman, who could either go with you to your home or take you to the station.
JOHN HENRY PICKFORD . I am manager of this shop—on June 10th the last witness showed me a broken coin—I went to the other shop with her, and saw the prisoner there, and asked her how she became possessed of the coin—she said, "I sold a bunch of flowers for twopence, and gave change for a half-crown, and that is the coin"—I said, "It is very strange; what are you?"—she said, "I sell flowers"—I said, Where do you live?"—she said, "24, Grey Street, Waterloo Road"—I sent for a policeman, who took her to the station—this is the coin—she said it was very hard she should lose the money.
Cross-examined. You did not say if I thought it was bad I had better send for a policeman.
HENRY BASS (243 J). I was called to Mr. Lee's shop on June 10th, and found the prisoner there—I took her to the station; inquiry was made, and she was allowed to go—she was searched, and the female searcher handed me a good sixpence—I received this coin from Mr. Pickford.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I deny the charge of being in the man's company, or knowing the man. "She repeated the same statement in her defence. She received a good character.
GUILTY — Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
DAVID COX . On 17th June I was with Camber in the London Road, about seven o'clock, and saw the prisoner enter an eating-house—he came out shortly afterwards, crossed over, and joined four other men; he remained with them a short time and then left them and went up Walworth Road some distance, took something from his pocket, examined it, and then went to the Red Lion public-house, Camberwell Gate; I was about to enter, but he came out—we followed him and lost sight of him, but met him in Castle Street, close by—we told him we were police officers, and wanted to know what he had about him—he said, "Nothing"—I searched him, and found a purse in his pocket—I took him to the station, searched him again, and found in his trousers pocket four counterfeit double florins in paper, with paper between them—he was charged and
made no reply—I searched him, and found a five-shilling piece, a half-crown, a shilling, a sixpence, and sevenpence—I asked him his name and address; he said, "I have got none; find it out"—he gave his name and address at the Police-court.
Prisoner's defence. This was a trap laid for me, and I fell into it.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY ** to a conviction, on 18th November, 1888, at thie Court of feloniously having counterfeit coin in his possession.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. The COURT commended the conduct of the police.
MR. BYRON Prosecuted, and MR. DRUMMOND Defended. The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing him to have been under the influence of drink .— Three Months' without Hard Labour.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
672. HENRY HUMPHRIES , Unlawfully obtaining money by false pretences from Arthur Ward £30, with intent to defraud. Second Count, conspiring with Andrew West to defraud Ward, and other Counts varying the charge.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and MUIR Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ARTHUR WARD . I live at 20, Weston Street, Stratford, Essex, and have been employed as clerk and timekeeper—about the end of March I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph similar to this. (This was for a man to keep workmen's time and pay wages, at 30s. a week, cash deposit indispensable. Reply by letter to George Wilson, 32, Bessborough Gardens)—I replied, and afterwards received a letter. (This stated that £100 deposit would be required)—I went to the works at Oakhill Road, East Putney, and saw Mr. Kerry—I asked him if I could see Mr. Wilson—he said he was not there then; could he do anything for me; he would send at once for him—he told me that I should have to pay down—I said I could not pay the £100—he said be would see if Wilson would take any less—the same evening I received this letter, dated the Office and Works, Oakhill Road, April 7th. (This stated that Mr. Wilson had appointed him timekeeper on the estate, and was signed for George Wilson; Kerry, manager)—I wrote accepting the appointment—I had no further communication for some tune, and then I wrote asking when Mr. Wilson would like me to commence my duties—I then had this letter. (Stating that Mr. Kerry had left Wilson's employment, and he was not certain on what terms he had been engaged, and asking him to call)—I wrote—I had a reply, and then I went to the works at Oakhill Road, where I saw the prisoner—he asked what arrangements Kerry had made with me; I told him, and he said those arrangements would do; I said they would not do for me, as he said Mr. Kerry, had left Mr. Wilson's employ—he said, "He has"—I said I would sooner have a fresh arrangement with Mr. Wilson or his representative—he said, "I need not after this; this will do"—he asked me what deposit I had brought; I said none, as I thought it very strange
Mr. Kerry leaving so suddenly—he said, "You need not fear anything he has had a little bit of a tiff with Wilson, and he has gone away, but I think he is coming back after a bit; it will be all right, so will you bring a deposit? you need not lay it all down at once; if you bring £30 or £40 you can start"—the deposit was to be £75, which was first mentioned in one of Mr. Kerry's letters; I repeated that as part of the terms on which I had been engaged—I said I should have to go back to get some money—I went back to Stratford—I wrote asking a friend if he would stand as guarantee for me, and he said he would—I said nothing to Humphries about a guarantee—the arrangement for the deposit was not made the first day, but on the Monday following—on Thursday, 28th April, was our first interview, and on the following Monday, 2nd May, I came and offered the prisoner a guarantee—he would not accept it, as it was no good—he said he could get thousands of guarantees; but he offered to take a smaller deposit, and let me lay the other down when I could—I arranged to go back and get the money—I next saw him on Wednesday, the 4th, about twelve o'clock, at Oakhill Road—he asked me if I would lay my money down—I said, "No, we will have some dinner first"—he seemed anxious to get the money—after dinner I gave him £30 in gold, and took this receipt from him, dated the 4th May—he did not say why he wanted the money down; he said that why he wanted the principal was that I should have money put in my hands to pay the men's wages, £60, £70, £80, and up to £100, and that he wanted the money as security in case I ran away—he did not say why a guarantee would not do—he said I could stay with him, and regularly commence my duties, and I went to look for a place where I could sleep—on Thursday I started at Oakhill Road, East Putney—there was an office on four wheels, an ordinary builder's wooden box—I was there Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Monday, from the 5th to the 9th, and then he was arrested—a little building was going on, a double house; four or five men wore employed, they got on very slowly—on Saturday the prisoner paid the wages; he did not trust me with any money—I did not have to keep the men's time, the prisoner kept them, and a bricklayer kept the bricklayers' time with him—I did nothing whatever—sometimes only one man turned up until breakfast-time, sometimes there were three—the prisoner was there sometimes at half-past ten, sometimes at eleven, and stayed up till about half-past five—there were some books in the office; I did not see any used except the one he put the time down in—I asked him for my money back on the same night I paid it, because I would rather wait and see Wilson, but the prisoner refused—then on the Friday I asked for it, because I wanted to go into the country very particularly; he said he could not give it to me back, as he had sent it on to Mr. Wilson in Ireland—I asked him for Wilson's address; he said he could not give it to me, as he was always shifting about; he would see Mrs. Wilson and try and get it—I asked him on Saturday for it; he refused, and said if he saw Wilson he might give it to me; he said he had seen Mrs. Wilson, but she could not understand it, as it seemed I wanted to get the money and clear off—the prisoner asked me to stay on; he said I had got a proper job, 35s. a week, and nothing to do; it would be always the same as it was then—I never got 35s., I only got 10s. when I started as part of my travelling expenses—on Monday, 9th May, one man turned up, he mixed a little mortar—later on, when the prisoner
came, he wanted to know why the men had not started—I said I did not know; the bricklayer was there, and there was something about taking the scaffolding down, but I did not hear what was said—in the result the prisoner went to the Police-station—he said he was going for a protection order for the scaffolding, to keep the men from taking it down—I remained outside the Police-station—an inspector afterwards took me in—about five or six the same day I saw the prisoner in the charge-room of the station—I was asked if the prisoner had had my money; I said Yes"—I afterwards charged him with obtaining money by false pretences—I parted with my money as I thought it was a very good opening, and would give me a good start—I believed a genuine business was being carried on at this place, the prisoner seemed very straightforward, but I was very suspicious after I had parted with the money—I believed at the time that a genuine building business was being carried on, and I believed in the truth of the allegations made to me by letter or by word of mouth, and that induced me to part with my money.
Cross-examined. I first had negotiations with Kerry, whom I understood at the time to be Wilson's manager—the prisoner represented that he had succeeded Kerry as Wilson's manager, and I parted with my money to him believing he was the manager—I should have parted with my money to Kerry believing him to be Wilson's manager—I understood from Kerry that the money was wanted as security for my honesty—that was the same thing that the prisoner put plainly to me—Kerry did not tell me my duties, he said I should have to see Mr. Wilson about it; he said that I should have to keep the men's time, and that my salary would be thirty-five shillings—the prisoner gave me more particulars than Kerry did—the works were at Putney, where the men were working—the works were just coming out of the ground—afterwards they were not quite up to the first floor—! heard nothing about works at Surbiton from Kerry, but Kerry told me that Mr. Wilson was buying some ground at the corner of the Oakhill Road, and I should have to go to work there—I believed that Kerry was telling me about a genuine going business; such details as he gave me satisfied me of that, and that there was an opening for a timekeeper—in the interval between the 7th and 21st April I found the managers had changed, and on Thursday, 4th May, I went there—something was said about Bout taking down the scaffolding—I did not hear the prisoner say, "You must not take it down, wait tail Wilson comes back"—he went off to a policeman—on the way to the station I knew that somebody was suggesting removing the scaffolding—I do not know what he spoke to the policeman for—I did not understand that he went to the policeman about preventing the removing of the scaffolding, nor that the policeman told him to go to the station—the prisoner came from the constable to me, and asked me to go to the station with him, and on his way he told me that he was going to get a protection order to prevent the scaffolding being removed by Rout—he said nothing about Wilson—we got to the station about 12.20—the inspector came out and said the prisoner had said I had better get my dinner—I had not sworn any information against Wilson at that time nor told the policeman anything—I knew nothing about a summons or warrant against him-when I parted with my money I knew nothing about the business at Surbiton Hill—the prisoner told me later in the day, just after I had paid my money, but the existence or non-existence of works
at Surbiton Hill had not the least effect on ire in parting with my money, nor had the fact that I was told that Wilson had gone to Ireland.
Re-examined. The prisoner said Wilson had gone to Ireland to sell some of his wife's property.
MAETIN KERRY . I live at 109, Eye Road, Battersea, and am a clerk—in November, 1891,1 was living at Eye, in Suffolk—my mother left me £300, and about that time I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph somewhat similar to this, in consequence of which I afterwards wrote to 32, Bessborough Gardens—I there afterwards saw Wilson—he explained what my duties were, and told me I should have to go down to Surbiton, where I should be appointed, and act as timekeeper and cashier on a building estate; he was building six houses on the Crane Park Estate; the houses were in course of erection; that my £250 was wanted as an investment, for which I should have security on a house then in course of erection, which was to cost £900, and I should have 5 per cent, on my money—there was a charge of £650 on the house, and my money was to cover it up—my money was to be security for my honesty, as I should have a lot of money to handle, to pay the men's wages—I agreed to accept the appointment, to deposit the money, and on 30th November I gave Wilson a cheque for £250—this was the agreement between us. (By this agreement Kerry deposited £250, Wilson agreeing to employ him as timekeeper and cashier for twelve months, and after that, subject to one month's notice in writing, at a salary of £2 10s. a week)—after I had paid the £250 and signed the agreement, Wilson asked me whether I was willing to go to his City office at 4, Featherstone Buildings, Holborn; he said he had got another man who was willing to fill the vacancy at Surbiton—I stayed at Featherstone Buildings from 30th November to 6th April; I practically did nothing during that time—I answered and inserted advertisements, and carried on correspondence with people who answered the advertisements I inserted—Wilson came there two or three times a week, not very regularly, and when he came he was only there a few minutes—advertisements were inserted almost every week, always requiring a money deposit—there was an agreement between him and a freeholder about land at Surbiton; the matter was delayed he said in consequence of their not being able to come to terms—he asked me to go to Surbiton—he had got Mr. Payne to act as timekeeper there—almost the next day he asked me to go to Surbiton, as he said he could not come to terms with a freeholder—I was sent to tell Payne to discontinue work for a few days, and also Mr. Alfflat, who was engaged to set out the work—Payne was looking after Alfflat's men—Inspector Gillies showed me a number of letters and account books—I had entered most of those—they refer to advertisements inserted by me at Featherstone Buildings—I had kept the accounts—I wrote to several brick merchants, asking them to quote their prices for delivering bricks at Surbiton and Wandsworth—there was one transaction done with Sittingbourne brick merchants; that was for ready money to between £50 and £60—that was the only transaction which took place from November to February when I was there—I have never got my £250 back; I have not tried—I remained there till April 6th—I left because he gave up the office—I received my £2 10s. a week.
Cross-examined. I was in Wilson's employment from 30th November to 9th April—during the whole of that time I never saw the prisoner, but
Wilson, besides advertising for clerks who would pay £200 as security, instructed me to advertise in several provincial papers that there was a rare opportunity for persons who could invest £5 and upwards at 15 per cent., and among references he gave Humphries—I saw 100 or more people at Featherstone Buildings about depositing money with Wilson, and being engaged by him—I told them what work they would have to do at Surbiton or Gunnersbury—I told them what Wilson had told me to say—I inserted advertisements almost daily; the persons who answered were to reply by letter—the office was a financial business, not only that of engaging timekeepers—I did not apply for a summons against Wilson; it was not at my suggestion that a warrant was issued against him—the police came to me about the matter, and asked me to attend to identify Wilson, whom they were under the impression they had got—I saw the prisoner sitting alone, and said he was not Wilson—the prisoner came after I left—I had been Wilson's clerk and manager—Payne was a clerk at Putney—I saw Gillies at Wandsworth Station—I was asked the next day what I knew—I had nothing. to do with engaging Payne, who. deposited £250—he transacted business at Bessborough Gardens with Wilson direct—I made no complaint to the police—I placed the matter in the hands of my solicitor, who acted for me before the prisoner was locked up, while I was at Featherstone Buildings.
Re-examined. I last saw Wilson in Easter week at Oakhill Road, Putney.
CHARLES WILLIAM PAYNE . I am an engineer, living at Manor Terrace, College Park—in February last I saw an advertisement in a newspaper, and on 14th February I saw Wilson at Featherstone Buildings, and asked him for particulars about investing £250 with him, and he offered me the berth of timekeeper, cashier, and checker of goods at some building operations at Surbiton Hill—I was to have three guineas a week and 5 per cent, for the investment—our agreement was to be terminable at a month's notice, and then the deposit was to be repaid to me—on 26th February I deposited £250 with him—I entered on my duties at Surbiton on 29th February; I found no work going on, there was only a portable office three-parts finished—two or three men came and turned some turf over—next day I was fetched away to Oakhill Road, Putney—I only went to Surbiton again to fetch the office away to Oakhill Road; that was on 3rd March—I remained at Putney till 8th April, when Wilson failed to come to pay the week's accounts—at Oakhill Road the ground was up for two houses out of six that were supposed to be built there, and building went on from time to time from 4th March to 8th April—I think we had four or five men; Wilson used to hand me a cheque, which I cashed and paid them with—that went on to 2nd April—the wages amounted to about 82s. per week—for the labour account and a few bills that I might have paid out of my pocket during the week, the total sum of the weekly cheque might have come to £8 or £12; £12 was the largest sum of his I ever had in my possession—the building operations at Putney got about half-way to the first floor—there were two other houses being erected on ground adjoining Wilson's—on 8th April Wilson sent a letter to the office to say he could not come, but that he would come on the Saturday, next day; on the Saturday he did not appear, and the men went without their wages—three only remained there up to Saturday, 9th April—I did not get a farthing of my £250
back—I did not see Wilson again, he left no address—I received this letter from him of 13th April. (This stated that if he had allowed the work at Putney to stop during his absence, it showed he did not take much interest in the work, and therefore he had better leave)—I have never seen him since—he appeared in Putney afterwards, but I had no notification of his coming—these letters (produced) are in Wilson's writing, one is signed Andrew West, and the other Andrew—I did not know Wilson as West, but Kerry did.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner from 29th February till 9th April—at my first visit to Featherstone Buildings I saw Wilson and Kerry in the office together—I did not talk to Kerry, Wilson took me into a private office—the only time I talked to Kerry was when I paid £8 3s. of the deposit to him—he gave me a receipt signed "Kerry, for Wilson"—Kerry did not tell me what the deposit was for—Kerry was alone when I paid the deposit—I asked him whether it would be right for me to pay it to him, and he said, "Yes, it would be just the same as paying it to Wilson, as he would sign it for him"—the balance of the deposit I paid to Wilson—I asked Kerry if there had been other applicants; he told me there had been, but he did not know how they had settled with Wilson—Kerry took no lead in the matter; I paid the money to him the same as paying it to Wilson.
JOSEPH HALL . I am a builder, at Adley Road, The Grove, Hammersmith—in March last Wilson had some correspondence with me, and then I went to see him at 4, Featherstone Buildings, and he entered into this building agreement with the solicitor on 12th March, to build six houses at Oakhill Road, Putney, for which I was agent and surveyor—there is a schedule attached to the agreement, by which Wilson was to receive certain advances from time to time as the work proceeded—the work progressed very slowly and unsatisfactorily; it was carried on continuously up to the 11th of April, and then they ceased altogether, and I gave Wilson notice—then he started again on April 25th—on April 23rd he and the prisoner came together on to the estate, and Wilson wanted to know if I could give the prisoner the certificate to receive the advances when they were due—I said I could give him the certificates for the advances, but whether he could get the money at the solicitors' or not I could not say—then an appointment was made of the 25th to see the solicitors, and we saw Mr. White, of Gibbs, White and Co., and he said before he could allow the prisoner to draw the money Wilson would have to sign the mortgage-deed and the authority for the prisoner to receive the. money, and the prisoner was to send back his usual signature for them to see it—Mr. White sent on the mortgage-deed and authority for him to sign; he received it on the 26th, and returned it signed by Wilson, and with the prisoner's signature, to Mr. White—they had not got to the stage when the advance could be obtained—the last time saw Wilson at the works was 25th or 26th April—he said he was going to Ireland to sell some of his wife's property, about £800, and he was going to leave the prisoner there, as his friend, to look after the works till he came back—I never saw him again—I retook possession of the estate when the prisoner was taken into custody on 9th May—I saw Kerry and Payne there—I heard on 9th April that they had paid money; on that day they made a communication to me, and on 21st April I told Wilson I had heard he had had these two sums of £250 from these young
men, and I thought he was a respectable man; and I heard it was a very serious matter, because it was going to be put into the Public Prosecutor's hands; and I said, "You had better pay them at once, as it is a disgrace to you to have those two £250"—at an interview subsequent to that he endeavoured to get the advance on the building and to transfer his right to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I first saw Kerry at the Holborn office; I went there from an advertisement in the paper for building land—afterwards I saw Wilson; I had no negotiation with Kerry—I saw Payne as well as Kerry at the works—I am quite certain Kerry told me on 9th April that he had put the matter into the hands of the Public Prosecutor—I did not see the prisoner before 23rd April, and then Wilson introduced him as the man who was to superintend the building when Wilson was in Ireland.
Re-examined. On 21st April I had the conversation with Wilson about the two men and their £250; and on 23rd he spoke about transferring his interest in the advance to the prisoner—on 25th I went with him to the solicitors', and the agreement transferring the interest to the prisoner was signed on 26th, between two and three p.m.
WILLIAM ROUT . I am a builder, of 479, Liverpool Road—on 14th March, 1892, I contracted with Mr. George Wilson, at 4, Featherstone Buildings, to do some brickwork on certain land at Oakhill Road, Putney; and I was employed from that date till 7th May—we stopped for a fortnight, on 9th April, because Wilson did not send the money, and then we finally stopped on 7th May, and on 9th May I gave notice that I was going to remove the scaffolding,' because my men would not work on the ground—Kerry was there the last week—I did not see the prisoner there before Wilson brought him up on 23rd April, and said he was going to superintend his works for him—the prisoner at the last gave instructions for men to work there, but until he was in custody, when Kerry and Payne were there, there were no men except my own—I paid the men up to the last week, and then the prisoner paid them—I had charge of the work; the prisoner had charge of getting the staff, and full management—my time had to be checked against me—the prisoner paid the wages; I paid all except the last week.
Cross-examined. I understood the prisoner was going to superintend the work—the place had been looked after by Kerry and Payne, and I looked on them as Wilson's managers—about four or five men were employed, or seven or eight towards the finish, I believe—that is the way building work is usually carried on in the suburbs—sometimes funds are wanting—Hall was there when Wilson brought the prisoner; he said he was going to do it for him as a friend.
GEORGE WREN . I am a labourer—I did ground-work at Oakhill Road, beginning about two weeks before the prisoner was arrested, and continuing for eight days—two other men worked with me digging ballast and sand—the prisoner paid me—the prisoner did not give any reasons for stopping; he said he had orders—I went to look for another job.
WILLIAM ALFFLAT . I am a sub-contractor—I contracted with Wilson to do brick and other work to six houses on building land at Surbiton—I saw Wilson and Kerry at Featherstone Buildings and Surbiton—we worked one day then Kerry stopped us by Wilson's orders; we did not go on again—I did work on the adjoining ground for other people—while I was there about a dozen people came inquiring for Wilson—I
have not seen him since—I wrote and made my claim, but I have had no reply.
Cross-examined. I was at Wandsworth Police-court, but was not called.
WILLIAM GILLIES (Inspector V). On the 9th May, shortly after twelve, the prisoner came to Wandsworth Police-station with another man, and complained of Bout, saying that he was going to remove scaffolding I asked who was the owner of the house; he said he was not, that Wilson was—I knew that at that time a warrant was out for Wilson, and I thought the prisoner was he, and I detained him at the station—he gave the name of Humphries, the address being 5, Godman Road, Peckham—I sent a telegram asking if Wilson or Humphries resided there—I received a reply, and told the prisoner the effect of it—he said, "I 'am known there"—I detained him, and Í went out and found Ward, and he came back to the station, and Ward charged the prisoner with obtaining from him £30 with intent to defraud—the prisoner said he had the money, and paid it over to Wilson—I made inquiries as to where the prisoner lived, and subsequently went and searched 56, Ivydale Road, Nunhead, where I found several letters and memoranda—I found a rent-book, on the prisoner belonging to Featherstone Buildings—these account-books were found at Oak hill Road—I found these two letters and this receipt in a cupboard in the ante-room on the first floor at Ivydale Road. (One of these letters contained the passage, "I think I am sure to get another £250 from him.—I am, your affectionate brother, ANDREW.")
Cross-examined. I did not know anything of the prisoner when he came into the station—before he said what he came about I asked if he was Wilson, and he said no—that was shortly after he came in—I then asked his name, and he said Humphries, and he gave the address at Peckham—the prisoner never said that Wilson lived at Godman Road—I got the reply to my telegram asking about the address, "Neither known at Godman Road, Peckham"—I do not know now if a relation of the prisoner lives there; I have not inquired—I found two letters at the address the prisoner lived at in the name of Vernon—that address came from the prisoner through the gaoler—the prisoner came to the station for advice—I did not believe him when he said he was not Wilson—Ward was not asked to come and identify him; Ward did not say he was not Wilson, but Humphries—I did not bring in Ward to see if he could corroborate me that he was Wilson.
Re-examined. When I asked his name he wanted to know what I asked him for, and I told him I believed him to be Wilson, and then he gave me that address.
THOMAS MANLEY (Sergeant B); On 23rd September I served a summons upon Wilson, of 32, Bessborough Gardens, charging him with obtaining £20 by false pretences from Hastie—the summons was returnable on 28th April—Wilson did not appear, and a warrant was granted for his apprehension—on 4th May I went to Oakhill Road, Putney, and saw the prisoner—I asked him where Mr. Wilson's works were; he said, "Here,"pointing to houses in course of erection—I asked him if I could see Mr. Wilson; he said, "No; he is away in Ireland"—he asked me what I wanted, as he was Mr. Wilson's foreman—I said I had come to see him in answer to an advertisement for a timekeeper—I asked him what deposit it would be—he said he did not know—I asked him, "What
about wages in Wilson's absence?"—he said, "That is all right; I drew some money from him before he started"—I then left.
Cross-examined. Hastie, who complained of losing £25, and I applied for a warrant, and the matter was laid before the Public Prosecutor afterwards—I have not made inquiries about the prisoner; so far as I know there is no charge or conviction against him.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
673. JOHN BRIDGER (18), JAMES BRYANT (18), WILLIAM WEBB (17), JANE WILLIS , and MADELENE CANNING (29) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Charles Carter, and stealing six pipes and other articles, his property; Second Count, with receiving the same.
MR. ALLEYNE Prosecuted.
CHARLES CARTER . I am a tobacconist, at 104, Waterloo Road—on the night of 15th June I fastened up my premises at eleven o'clock securely, and went to bed—early next morning I was called up by the inspector, and on coming down I found the plate-glass window broken and a large brick inside, and some meerschaum pipes and cigar-holders had been taken—these are them—the police afterwards brought them back.
GEORGE PAYNE (Inspector L). About four a.m. on the 16th I examined the shop window at 104, Waterloo Road—it was intact—about ten minutes past four I passed again, and noticed the window was broken, and a large piece of brick was lying just inside the window—I called Garter, who gave me particulars of the property which had been stolen—the two female prisoners when charged at the station made no reply.
CHARLES LEFEVRE . I am a lamplighter—about five minutes past four a.m. on. the 16th I was near Carter's shop, and saw Bryant and Webb on the same side as Garter's private door, at the side of the shop; they were loitering, and Webb was lifting Bryant up to the low wall—I saw no one else about the street then.
Cross-examined by Willis. I have known you for twenty years as a respectable woman; I know nothing against you.
WILLIAM GENTLE (Detective M). At half-past ten a.m. on the 16th June, I and Divall went, in consequence of information received, to a coffee-house in Union Street, Borough—I saw the three male prisoners—I said to Webb, "We are police officers, and I want to search you"—he said "What for?"—I said, "We suspect you of committing a burglary in Waterloo Road, and stealing some pipes"—he said, "You have made a mistake; I have got nothing"—I searched and found this meerschaum pipe in his pocket—I said, "Where did you get this from?"—he said, "You know, I suppose"—I took him into custody, and on the way to the station, Bryant, who was standing close behind me, said, "It is all. right, governor"—when charged at the station, Bryant pointed to Webb and said to me, "Him and me did this job, governor"—this is a new pipe—later in the day I went with Divall to a house in Ewer Street, where I saw Willis—he spoke to her; I searched the room—I heard someone come in at the door downstairs, and I went down and met Canning—I said, "I am a police officer; I believe you have bought some pipes?"—she said, "Yes, that is quite right, I did buy some; this is what I bought,"handing me these four pipes; "I bargained with the young chap I bought them of to give him twelve shillings and sixpence for them, and I have just been to try and sell them, and I wish I had
had nothing to do with them. What will my husband say? I bought them of a man named Webber"—they are Dew pipes—one has been smoked; Carter has identified them.
Cross-examined by Bridger. You were sitting with the other lads, and you were all talking together.
Cross-examined by Willis. You gave up the pipes as soon as you could.
Cross-examined by Canning. According to Willis's statement, you bought these things of a traveller, who had sold you things before.
THOMAS DIVALL (Sergeant M). I went with Gentle on the morning of the 16th to the coffee-house in Union Street—I saw the three male prisoners I sitting at a table—Gentle spoke to them—I said to Bridger, "lam going to search you, "and inside his coat pocket I found this cigarette-holder without a case—I told him he would be taken into custody, and asked him where he get it from—he said, "I have bought it"—I said, "Where?"—he pointed to Webb and said, "I bought it of him"—on the way to the station he pointed to Bryant and Webb, and said, "They did the job and I had some of the stuff"—they were taken to the station and charged—afterwards the prosecutor handed me this case, which the holder fitted—Webb afterwards said to me at the station, "I and Bryant were walking up Waterloo Road; we. saw a window broken; we but our hands through and took a pipe each"—I went with Gentle to Ewer Street, where I saw Willis on the second floor—she was very much excited when she saw us—I said, "lama police officer; I have come respecting some pipes stolen from Waterloo Road this morning; three men are in custody for it"—she said, "Oh, God, I have not got them"—afterwards Willis called me to the back room and said, "Oh, don't lock me up, and I will tell you the truth if you don't. A young chap brought them here this morning; he has brought things here before; he sold me three cigarette-holders in their cases, and brought four pipes to the lady downstairs. I have not paid him for them yet. I have sent them to a friend to sell"—she sent a boy for them, and he returned with them—Willis called downstairs to Canning who was with Gentle, "Oh, Mrs. Canning, tell the gentleman the truth now"—these three pipes have been identified by Carter—No. 23 is a private house kept by the female prisoners—I do not know Webber.
In their statements before the Magistrate, and in their defence, Bridger said he bought one pipe, not knowing it was stolen; Willis and Canning that the things were given them to sell.
BEIDGER, WILLIS, and CANNING— NOT GUILTY . BEYANT and WEBB— GUILTY of larceny. WEBB then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in April, 1891.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour . BEYANT— Six Months' Hard Labour. The GRAND JURY and the COURT commended the conduct of Divall and Gentle.
HENRY WHTTTLNGHAM . I live at 18, London Road, Clapton, and am an importer of artificial flowers—on 25th May, 1873, I was present at the. Clapham parish church, when the prisoner was married to Mrs. Elizabeth Shaw, who is here to-day—I signed as a witness—they lived together for fifteen or sixteen years, I should think, after the marriage—I cannot swear
to that time, as I have not been living in the same neighbourhood—I last saw them together many years ago, more than four years after the marriage.
MARY ELLARD . I keep a laundry, and live at 63, Stanley Street, Battersea—I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner in 1890—I had known him for five years next month as a married man—I knew his wife—I heard she had gone away, and after that I heard she was dead, and the prisoner asked me to be his wife—he told me himself that she was dead, and I heard it from other people; it has been spoken of that she either died on her voyage abroad or afterwards—that was either eighteen months or two years, I should think, before our marriage—she came and asked me to give prisoner in custody, but I could not do so; he has been a good husband to me, and a good father to my children.
JOHN THORLEY (Detective). I arrested the prisoner on 9th June, and told him he would be charged with intermarrying with Mary Ellard during the lifetime of his wife—he said, "I did not know she was alive; she left me about five years ago, and went abroad, and I have heard since she was dead, or I should not have got married"—the prisoner bears an excellent character.
The prisoner, in his statement, said that he honestly believed hit wife was dead.
NOT GUILTY .
675. WILLIAM FRANCIS (52) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Eugene Mayeur, and stealing two shirts and other articles, his property; also to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Hoiton, and stealing a watch; having been convicted at St. Mary, Newington, on December 8th, 1891— Twelve Months' Hard Labour .
676. WILLIAM LAWRENCE (19) and THOMAS SPICKR (18) , to unlawfully attempting to break and enter a chapel, with intent to steal— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Discharged on recognisances . And
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted. ALICE CAVERS. My husband keeps the Duke of Wellington publichouse, Camberwell—on May 27th the prisoner and Buckley (See next case) came in—the prisoner took out her purse and laid a shilling on the counter—I put it in the till and gave her sixpence change—they called for more beer, and the prisoner took a shilling out and handed it to Mrs. Buckley, who gave it to me—I found it was bad, and sent my man for a constable.
CORNELIUS HOWELL (204 P). I was called and took the prisoner, and told her the charge—she said, "I know nothing about it"—I found a sixpence and twopence in her left hand—she said at the station, "Old Mother Buckley is the cause of it "I received these two shillings at the station.
RUSSELL STAFFORD (387 P). I saw the prisoner at the station; she gave me a purse containing a sixpence, threepence, and a bad shilling. Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was at the station when you were brought there; you were not very tipsy.
Prisoner's defence. I met some people who I had not seen for eleven years, and I do not remember even being locked up.
C. HOWELL (Re-examined). She had been drinking, but was not exactly tipsy. GUILTY . She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on 25th February, 1884, of feloniously uttering a counterfeit sixpence.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM COOPER (Policeman P). On May 27th, about nine o'clock, I took the prisoner at her house—the minute she saw me she said, "I know what you want; you want me for passing that shilling when I was with Mother Kelly last night"—when she got to the station she said, "I did not know it was bad money. " NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 25TH JULY, 1892.