CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TWELFTH SESSION, HELD OCTOBER 17TH, 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
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OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
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On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
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AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, October 17th, 1892, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. Sir DAVID EVANS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; 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 ROBERT TYLER , Esq., GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., M.P., ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Esq., MARCUS SAMUEL , Esq., JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , Esq., WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR, Esq., and VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
JOSEPH RENALS, Esq., Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EVANS, MAYOR. TWELFTH 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, October 17th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
905. ROBERT WILLIAM THREDGOLD (36) , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, two post letters, containing two postal orders of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
906. ALBERT HENRY MANNING (12) and WILLIAM OLDHAM (12) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house, and stealing a box and other articles, of John Wallace Bluff.— Discharged on recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NOT GUILTY .
For the case of Thomas Neill, see Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Monday, October 17th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
GEORGE BAYNES . I am manager of the Frederica public-house, 30, high Holborn—on 6th October, about 11.10, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale, price twopence—she put down a half-crown—I said, "This coin is bad, do you know it? have you got any more like it?"—
she said, "Is it bad? I will give you another if you like"—she gave me a second, and I found that was bad—I said, "This is another bad one; where did you get this from?"—she said, "A man gave them to me; I did not know they were bad"—I said, "I must know more about this"—she ran out of the house; I got over the counter and caught her outside—she asked me to let her go, but I gave her in custody.
SAMUEL MIDDLETON (73 E). I saw the prisoner outside this publichouse—Mr. Baynes said she had been trying to pass a bad half-crown—the said she was an unfortunate, and a man gave it to her—I took her to the station—I received two half-crowns from Mr. Baynes, which I handed over to the Solicitor for the Treasury—on the prisoner, when searched at the station, were found a good half-crown and a halfpenny—she gave her name Elizabeth Johnson, and said she had no fixed place of abode.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "They were given to me by a man as an unfortunate woman, and I had not the least idea they were bad."
The prisoner, in a written defence, stated that a man had given her seven and sixpence, and that she did not know the two half-crowns were bad.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
910. ROBERT PEMBERTON (50) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering two cheques for £6 5s. each, with intent to defraud, after a conviction at Chelmsford on 20th October, 1885. Nine Months' Hard Labour from the day he was taken in custody. And
911. ARTHUR PRESTON (21) , to taking Louisa Jones, a girl under 18, out of her father's possession, in order that she might be carnally known. Three Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. THOMPSON Prosecuted.
FRANK OLIVER TAYLOR . On the night of 16th September I lived at 20, East Granville Place, Portman Square—I went to bed about twelve o'clock—the house was securely fastened and locked up, as far as I know—about two o'clock a servant woke me up, and I went down and found a policeman and the prisoner Wilson—the policeman showed me some umbrellas and sticks—a timepiece, a latch-key, and a pipe were produced from Wilson's pocket—the key fitted the door, and I believe it is one of mine—I left the clock in the dining-room when I went to bed—three of the sticks were mine—some had been in the dining-room and
some in the hall—the prisoner Wagner had been a servant in the house from August 11th to September 1st, when he was discharged.
Cross-examined by Wagner. You were there three weeks—I did not give you the latch-key; you were not allowed to have one—keys are sometimes taken away by visitors—it is a private boarding-house.
Re-examined. This flask is mine; it has my initials on it—I cannot say that I had seen it since Wagner left—I did not give him leave to take it away.
CHARLES REED (158 C). On 17th September, about two a.m., I saw the prisoners in Oxford Street, going towards Oxford Circus from the Marble Arch—I stopped them, and found in their possession five umbrellas, two walking-sticks, a timepiece, and a key—they said that their mistress had been to Grosvenor Place to a party, and they were fetching the things to take them to Russell Square, and offered to go back with me to Grosvenor Place—when we got near No. 23 they threw down the umbrellas and sticks and made off—I caught Wilson, and Wagner got a way—I am sore Wagner is the other man—I spoke to him, and have heard him speak to-day; I have no doubt of him—I found this small timepiece and a pipe and case on Wilson—I found this flask at Wagner's lodgings with the prosecutor's initials on it.
BENJAMIN MORGAN (Police Sergeant D). I went with Reed to 108, Cleveland Street, Fitzroy Square, at ten a.m. on Sunday, and saw Wagner—Reed said, "That is the man who escaped from me"—I said, "We are police-officers; your friend Anton Wilson or Snosenrack is in custody for breaking into Mr. Taylor's house, where you used to be employed, and this constable says you are the man who escaped from him; I am going to take you in custody"—he said, "Yes, I was with him all day on Friday; I did not break into Mr. Taylor's house"—I searched his house, and found this flask—I went back to the station, and said, "I found this at your lodging; it has Mr. Taylor's initials on it"—he said, "Yes, it is Mr. Taylor's."
Cross-examined by Wagner. You did not say that you were in bed on Friday night.
ALFRED ARTHUR MILLWARD I am clerk to the Guardians of St. Pancras—on 16th September I left 23 Granville Place, Portman Square, about midnight—I am positive I shut the door firmly when I left, and, according to my invariable habit I placed my hand against it.
Wilson's Defence. I saw a man, and he could not speak much English—he said he had been to his mistress, and asked me to carry some of the things. When a policeman came he threw them on the ground and ran away. I do not know anything about the key. I do not know the man; it was not this man; I never saw him before.
Wagner's Defence. I was at the Queen's Hotel, Norwood.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Hard Labour each.
THIRD COURT.—Monday, October 17th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted, and MR. WILLES Defended.
on 16th August last the prisoner came in between one and three for a tin of milk, price 9 1/2 d., and gave me a five shilling-piece—I gave her change, and she left the shop—I tried the coin in my mouth, and took it to my mother, who tried it in the tester, and found it was bad—I afterwards took care of it; this is it.
Cross-examined. The police afterwards came to me—I think I had seen the person who uttered the coin before, but I could not say if I had; I had seen someone like her—when she came in on 16th August I recognised her as someone I had seen before—I was afterwards shown the prisoner among other girls at the Police-court upon the day she was charged—I could not say if she was dressed as she was on 16th August; I remembered her face—I should think that the person on 16th August was highly respectably dressed.
By the COURT. I picked the prisoner out from the other girls; I recognised her face.
SARAH HARDING . I am an assistant in Mr. Green's baker's shop at 150, High Street, Harlesden—on Monday, 5th September, the prisoner came in about one o'clock for two scones, value three halfpence, and gave me a five shilling-piece—I took the coin to Mrs. Green, in the parlour, who bounced it on the floor, and thought it was good—afterwards I took it back to the prisoner and said we could not change it; she gave back the scones and took the crown, and said she was going down lower, and would call back for the scones—she never came back—I did not mark the coin in any way.
ANNIE EASTERBROOK . I live at 75, High Street, Harlesden, and assist in my father's shop—on 1st September, between one and half-past one, the prisoner came in for a pocket-handkerchief, price threepence, and gave me a five shilling-piece—I asked if she had smaller change; she said she had three halfpence—I tested the crown, found it was bad, and showed it to my father, who came into the shop and asked the prisoner, "Do you know this is bad?"—I believe she said, "No"—my father asked her where she got it, and she said from a 'bus conductor, in change for half a sovereign—my father asked where she lived—she said, "8, Harlesden Road"—he said, "There is no such number"—he said the coin was bad, and advised her to see the conductor and get the coin back—this is the coin.
Cross-examined. She said the 'bus conductor had given her the coin on the Sunday, the day before, in the afternoon.
JAMES EASTERBROOK . I am a draper, of 75, High Street, Harlesden, and father of the last witness—I was in the room at the back of my shop on 5th September, when my daughter came in and showed me a bad crown-piece—I went to my street door, saw a constable, and made a communication to him, and then I came into my shop and said to the prisoner, "This is a bad coin; what is your address?"—she refused to give it because her mother was very dangerously ill, and it would kill her—I said, "Would it be more dangerous to your mother to know you had been locked up?"—she said, "You may lock me up or break the coin, which you like"—I gave her back the coin, and she left soon afterwards—this is the coin; I saw my daughter mark it.
Cross-examined. My wife advised the prisoner to get the coin changed by the 'bus conductor—I was not present when the prisoner said she had received it from a conductor on Sunday afternoon.
JOHN DOWLING (153 X). On 5th September, shortly after Stevens had made a communication to me, I saw the prisoner leave Mr. Easterbrook's shop, and I followed her along the Harrow Road in the direction of Harrow—I saw her about to enter a china shop, and she turned and saw me on the opposite side of the road in uniform, and she at once turned round and hurried along Tavistock Road, a side road—I overtook and stopped her, and took a purse from her hand, in which was this crown and 1 1/2 d. bronze—I told her the crown was bad—she said, "Oh"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—she said, "I received it from a 'bus conductor in change for a half-sovereign the previous Sunday afternoon"—on the way to the station she said, "I refuse my address on account of my mother being ill, and if she knew of this it would kill her"—this is the coin I found in her purse; it is marked.
Cross-examined. I took her back to Mr. Easterbrook's shop—I had not seen him before, but another constable, who made a communication to me—when I went after her I knew she had been there with a bad crown—the china shop is next door to the corner, within some five or ten yards of it—Tavistock Road would be the first turning on the right-hand side past the china shop—she would have to pass the shop to get to that road coming from Easterbrook's—I was on the opposite side—she did not stand at the corner of the street for a minute—I was some fifty yards from her, perhaps; she turned straight round the corner—the china shop is possibly two or three hundred yards from Easterbrook's—she did not enter any of the other shops there.
Re-examined. She actually had her foot in the doorway of the shop, when she turned and saw me.
HOLTON (Inspector X). I charged the prisoner at Willesden Police-station on the charge preferred by Easterbrook, and cautioned her—she said, "I took a 'bus from the other side of the Lock Hospital, Harrow Road, on Sunday, 4th inst., and was put down in the Harrow Road, somewhere about here, but I do not know the place. I gave half a sovereign to the conductor of the 'bus, and he gave me the 5s. in change. I am not going to tell you where I live, as I don't want my mother to know"—I took that statement down, and read it over to her, and she signed it, and said, "Quite right."
Witnesses for the defence.
ELLEN COULIN . I live at 18, Southbrook Mews, Berkeley Square, and am a laundress there—my daughter, the prisoner, has been in the habit of working for me at a weekly wage—all through August, from Bank Holiday till 5th September, she was living and sleeping with me—she did not to my knowledge attend anywhere during that time—I paid her 10s. a week wages; sometimes a little more, according to the work that came in—I last saw her on the Monday she was taken into custody—on the previous Saturday I paid her 10s. in gold.
Cross-examined. She has helped me in the laundry business since she was a child; I have lived twenty-five years in that neighbourhood—she
was helping me down to the Saturday night before she was taken into custody; and I then paid her the half-sovereign.
ELLEN COULIN . I am the last witness's daughter—during the month of August the prisoner, my sister, was working at home for my mother—my sister was taken very bad on Sunday, 14th, and on 18th August I took her to the doctor; this is the order he gave her to go into the dispensary—she was hardly able to walk—my sister attended at the dispensary from 18th August to 1st September—I went with her.
Cross-examined. She ceased to attend on 1st September—she was unable to go for medicine, and had to send for it—the doctor did not come to see her at home—the surgery is about half a mile from our house, I should say—I went with her once, she was unable to go afterwards.
By the COURT. On the Sunday she was taken ill she lay on the bed in the afternoon, unable to eat—on the Tuesday after that she was at home working for mother; she was not able to work—she was bad all the week—she did no work on the Monday—I live at home and work for mother—she was at home on Monday, lying on the sofa, bad; she complained of pains in her head—on Monday she got worse; she seemed to get worse gradually—on Tuesday, 16th, and Wednesday, 17th, she was on the couch—she was at home every day—we did not go for the doctor before the 18th, because we did not have the shilling we had to pay—I am paid 5s. a week and food by my mother—I did not get my 5s. on that Saturday, nor did my sister get her 10s., because she did not work for it—on the Saturday before she was taken ill she had 10s. in gold—I cannot explain why we could not pay the doctor the shilling—my mother knew of this illness.
ELIZABETH PACKER . I live at 17, Borden Street, Grosvenor Street—my husband is a foreman farrier—I live two streets from the prisoner's mother, and occasionally I go to their house and have a talk—on 17th August I was there, and Mrs. Coulin told me Annie was very ill—Annie was there, and she was very ill—her mother said she appeared to hare been ill for two or three days, and she had been giving her brandy, and I said brandy was bad, and I should advise her to have a doctor—she had violent pains in the stomach and bowels.
Cross-examined. I went and saw the prisoner, who was lying on a couch and could not get up, and I said, "If I were you I should go to the hospital," and the mother said she had no money to spare for the doctor—I saw her on the following Friday, and on the previous Monday I was there for about ten minutes about half-past nine a.m., and she was in bed—I only heard of this charge a few days ago—I did not go to the Police-court—I first heard she was complaining of these pains on the Wednesday.
GUILTY — Two Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
DELIA GARDNER . I am barmaid at the Sir Francis Burdett beer-house in Angelina Gardens, Bethnal Green—on Monday, 12th September, I saw the two prisoners there, they came in together—the female prisoner asked for a pot of ale, which came to fourpence, and tendered a two shilling-piece in payment—I thought it did not look right, and I took it
to Mrs. Miles, the landlady, in the parlour; she tested it and found it was bad—this (produced) is the coin—I returned into the bar with Mrs. Miles—the prisoners were still there—Mrs. Miles said to her, "What money do you call this?"—she said, "A two shilling-piece"—Mrs. Miles said, "It is a bad one"—she wanted to have it back—Mrs. Miles said, "No, have you any more by you? and if you have I will have you locked up; I have a policeman here"—the prisoner offered to pay for the ale; I did not see her pass the other coin to the male prisoner, but I heard it drop—it sounded like a two shilling-piece; she was standing facing the man with his back to the wall.
HARRIET HARRISON . I live at 46, Crescent Place, Hackney Road—on the night of 12th September I was in this public-house—I saw the prisoners come in together—the female called for a pot of ale—I heard a conversation with the last witness and the landlady about a bad two shilling-piece—the female prisoner said, "Take this"—she put her hand in her pocket and took something out, and said, "Take this"—he did not take it—something dropped from her hand—I afterwards saw a two shilling-piece lying on the floor—I saw it fall; he would not take it.
HARRY GIBSON (56 H). I was off duty, in plain clothes, at this publichouse on 12th September, in the private bar—Gardner made a communication to me—I saw Mrs. Miles and this two shilling-piece—she tested it in the machine; it was bad—I went into the bar where the prisoners were; they were standing side by side in front of the bar—the male prisoner had a quart pot in his hand, drinking out of it; one paid for the two—I said to the man, "How many more have you got?"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I looked on the floor, and saw this other one lying between the prisoners—Constable Masterman came in, also in plain clothes—I said I should arrest them for trying to pass counterfeit coin—I took the man, and Masterman took the female—the man had on him sixpence in bronze—he gave his right name, but no address; he afterwards said he lived somewhere in Margaret's Place—when the coin was on the floor they did not try to conceal it by putting their feet upon it.
THOMAS MASTERMAN (104 H). I arrested the female, and took her to the station—when charged she said, "I knew it was a wrong one; I wanted to pass the other two shilling-piece to the male prisoner, and I dropped it"—he said he knew nothing about it.
CUTHBERT, GUILTY .— Six Month' Hard Labour.
DARNELL, NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, October 18th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
915. HENRY AUSTIN (22) and GEORGE DAVIS (20) PLEADED GUILTY to attempting to break into the warehouse of Edward Theophilus Hambly with intent to steal; also to being found by night with housebreaking implements in their possession, Austin having been convicted at Clerkenwell on June 7th, 1886.
AUSTIN— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
DAVIS— Six Months' Hard Labour.
917. JAMES BELL RUSSELL (35) , to stealing a clock, the property of F. W. Culmer, also to obtaining £3 13s. from F. W. Culmer, and £2 from George Frederick Davis by false pretences— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted.
PATRICK BURNS . I am a sailor on board the Euston, which was lying in the London Docks—on 8th October, between one and two o'clock I was going down Ratcliff Highway, and six or seven men stopped me—Brown and Smith were two of them—one of them asked me to give them the money I had—I said I only had sufficient for my own needs, but if I had any more I would give it to them—Smith then struck me on my neck, and blows showered upon me very quickly from all the six or seven—I fought with them about four minutes, and got knocked down, and then they started kicking me—I saw Brown kick me on the region of my heart; I saw his features distinctly—I had a half-sovereign and eight shillings in silver in a purse in my trousers pocket—I felt a hand go into that pocket, and the purse being put back—during that time kicks were coming upon me from all quarters—one of them tugged at my watch, but I had it through one button-hole, and it did not go while they were kicking me they said, "Let us kill him"—a constable came up, and I became unconscious—I afterwards missed the money from my purse—I had had four or five glasses of beer that night, but no spirits.
Cross-examined. I did not come up with a knife in my hand to stab you—I did not say at the station that I had lost no money and that I wanted to let the prisoners go.
ARTHUR GOLDING (301 H). I was in Dean Street, Ratcliff Highway, which leads into Cable Street, and saw the prosecutor on the ground calling "Police!" and "Help!"—Brown was kneeling on him fumbling in his pockets, and Smith and Stevens leaning over him one on each side—they all ran away—I caught Brown—he said, "I will go quietly"—I said I should take him for assault and robbery—I found a knife on him—as I was taking him to the station Mary Williams came up in Cable Street, and Brown put his hand in his pocket and passed some silver and bronze money to her; some of it dropped on the pavement—she followed to the station, where I spoke to Stringer, who went out and brought Williams in—after the charge was read Brown said, "I put the purse back into your pocket, and you will find it there now"—Burns was bleeding from his left eye; he was insensible when I went up, but he came to in a few minutes.
PATRICK STRINGER (49 H). On 8th October, about 1.30 a.m., I was on duty in Dean Street and heard shouts of "Police!" and "Help!" in Cable Street—I went towards Cable Street, and Smith ran round the corner towards me; he turned back and I ran after him and said, "You must come with me"—he said, "All right, governor, I will go with you—I took him by the coat and took hold of his right arm; he had this knife in his right hand, shut—on the way to the station with Smith I saw Brown
in custody, and saw him put his hand back to Williams, who was behind, and I heard money jink—I shouted, "Look out there! there is money being passed"—Williams was two or three yards behind—I heard money fall in the street—after I took Smith to the station I went out and arrested Williams, and said "You must come with me to the station"—she said, "Me?"—I said "Yes," and took her in—she was searched by the female searcher, who said, "Here is 4s. in silver and 1s. 5d. in copper; I found it in her bosom; here is the purse"—I found a sixpence on Smith.
Cross-examined by Smith, When I caught you you said that the prosecutor was going to stab you—you nearly ran up against me, and turned back and ran in the opposite direction to where the prosecutor was lying.
JOSEPH COXHIIL (76 H). On October 8th, about 1.30, I was in Dean Street, and heard cries of "Police!" and "Help!" in Cable Street—I went there and saw Burns lying on the ground and the three male prisoners running away—I did not know either of them—I seized Stevens—he said, "All right, governor, I will-go quiet"—nothing was found on him—he made no answer to the charge—he was about two yards from the prosecutor.
HENRY THOMAS HAMILTON . I am a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians and a medical practitioner, of 248, Commercial Road—on October 8th I saw Burns at the station at two a.m., suffering from an incised clean-cut wound over his left eye—it might have been caused by a fall, or a blow, or a knife—he was bleeding, and there were abrasions about his face, a large one over his right eye—I examined his body and found several recent bruises, such as would be caused by kicks—he was in a dazed condition—he had had something to drink, but he was not the worse for liquor.
ANN SHEARING . I am female searcher at King David's Lane Police-station; on the morning of October 8th I searched Williams, and found 4s. in silver and 1s. 5d. in bronze in her bosom, the silver was in a purse in a handkerchief.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Brown says: "Mary Williams was not there at all; she came up at the last."
Smith says: "I plead not guilty to the robbery; all I did was to protect myself."
STEVENS, GUILTY .
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Middlesex Sessions on March 24th, 1890.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
BROWN, GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Middlesex Sessions on 7th February, 1887— Five Years' Penal Servitude. SMITH— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
WILLIAMS, NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY and MR. SOUTHWELL Prosecuted.
EDWARD LEWIS STYLES . I am a cashier at the City Bank, Ludgate Hill branch—R. C. Cutting and Co., Limited, have an account there—I paid this cheque B on August 22nd; it is on one of our forms, and purports to be signed by two directors, Mr. Heale and Mr. Douglas, and countersigned by the prisoner—it is a splendid imitation, but I notice two Greek "e's" in Mr. Heale's signature—that is subject to being signed by two directors, and countersigned by the secretary—I also cashed the cheque
of August 13th on August 13th—the "order" is changed to "bearer," and initialled by the secretary only—that also is a good imitation.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. It is impossible to say who presented the cheques—they were paid in cash—my manager afterwards drew my attention to them—we have an order giving us instructions to pay any cheque with the signature of two directors and countersigned by the secretary—Mr. Douglas and Mr. Heale signed it—I can fetch it in five minutes—you opened the account with £10,000 on May 11th, 1892, and the net credit is £195 10s. on May 13th—in this, the company's passbook (produced), there is a credit of £125 drawn out in your name; this is the cheque, and this is the counterfoil—£131 is crossed out, and £125 put in its place.
Re-examined. This pass-book was perfect when it left the bank; some leaves are now missing; they have been torn out somewhat skillfully—the last entry left now is June 30th—the opposite side would show a debit balance—there is nothing to show when the pass-book was made out—the clerk in the bank would not tear the leaves out—these cheques must have gone out with the pass-book.
ARCHIBALD DOUGLAS . I am an electrical engineer, and am one of the directors of R. C. Cutting, Douglas, and Co.—this is their pass-book—it was opened on May 11th, when the cheque forms were taken from the bank—there was an arrangement that two directors should sign cheques, and that the prisoner should draw them and countersign—I believe the prisoner was present when the arrangement was made—this cheque of July 6th, B26057, for £2 8s. 9d., to Bundy and Co., is one of the series, and to the best of my belief it is filled up by the prisoner, and countersigned by him, but it is not my signature—I did not give him authority to sign my name—the counterfoil is filled up for £2 10s.—these initials to "bearer" are not mine; it is a forgery—the counterfoil appears to have been altered; it is genuine, but that of August 20th is not genuine—my writing is very well imitated, but the initials are very bad—this cheque, A26045, for £6, was drawn for cash purposes—the body of it is, I believe, in the prisoner's writing—the signature is not mine; I did not give him authority to sign my name—the counterfoil is August 15th instead of 13th, and £5 instead of £6; it is for petty cash—I did not see the pass-book after June 30th; it had no leaves torn from it then, but it has now—we could not get it from the prisoner; he said he had left it at home—this cheque (produced) bears my genuine signature—according to this resolution (produced) any two directors could operate on the account—the prisoner had the custody of the cheque-book, and drew the cheques.
Cross-examined. I was with you, and saw the bank manager when the account was opened—the £6 cheque is for cash purposes, to bearer—very likely other cheques were drawn for the same purpose—the initials "to bearer" are very different from mine—an entry appears in the minute-book that the cheque for £125 found on you was drawn under a misapprehension—on the morning of your arrest you came earlier than usual; I told you to do so, that I might talk matters over with you—I have not got the minute-book here. (It was sent for.)—the pass-book was found on you on your arrest; you asked me once to lock it up, because the drawer in which you kept it had been broken open, and I recollect somebody coming and asking me for the keys of
my desk—I do not know that it had been left open in your drawer—I do not know whether your drawer was forced open in your absence, I saw the broken lock, and I was told it was one of your tricks—I was not aware till two or three days ago that you missed a blank cheque from the cheque-book—I am not aware that when you were in a hurry you left the counterfoil to be filled up on a subsequent occasion—if you had taken the pass-book out after the cheques were uttered, you would have had them with the pass-book—you agreed to accept a nominal salary of 12s. 6d. a week—there is a bill in existence which has a signature on it not my own; that was before this became a limited company; I do not know whose signature it is, but I know who admitted signing it—the person is not connected with the firm—the company has been wound up through you.
Re-examined. The prisoner never communicated to me that he had imitated my signature or Mr. Heale's—he said at the Mansion House, "I admit imitating Mr. Douglas's signature, but I claim the right to do so"
E. L. STYLES (Re-examined). This is the book into which we pasted the form with the signatures of the directors, and upon that the account was opened—five names are mentioned, but only two gave us a specimen of their signatures, and at the time the forgeries were carried on, a gentleman at the bank took a blue pencil and ran through Bundy's name—he never claimed a right to imitate the directors' signatures.
FREDERICK WILLIAM HEALE . I signed this form as a director of this company as the bank's authority to pay cheques—cheque B, for £2 8s. 9d., is not signed by me, nor is the initialling of "bearer" instead of "order"—it is a very good imitation of my signature, but there is a discrepancy in the final "e"—I never gave the prisoner authority to sign my name—cheque A has not my signature; it is also a forgery—he never told me he had imitated my signature—I never knew that he had been operating upon the account.
Cross-examined. I have done business with you in connection with my advertising business, but had rather not say whether you ever betrayed the trust I reposed in you, but you told me I had a very favourable balance, and when I looked into it I found it was just the reverse—the account has not been audited.
Re-examined. He came to me on January 1st this year; I did not know him previously.
JOHN MITCHELL (City Police Inspector). On September 7th, about 10.15 a.m., I went to the office of this company and saw the prisoner, and said to him, in Mr. Heale's presence, that Mr. Douglas gave him in custody for forging and uttering the two cheques, one for £2 8s. 9d., and one for £6; he said, "Very well, Mr. Mitchell, I will go with you"—on the way to the station he said, "I only get 12s. 6d. a week; I shall plead guilty to the charge; I suppose they will bring up the old affair against me"—I searched him and found a cheque-book on him, in which cheques were pasted back, and a pass-book with the leaves torn out of it, which showed the balance at the end of the half-year.
Cross-examined. You said that you were quite willing to plead guilty, so that the news should not reach your friends, but I said I would send for your father—you did not give me your address on the understanding that I would not let your mother know; I knew your address
previously—I did not speak to your mother or see her—you wished me to take possession of the papers found at your lodgings and at your office, for your defence.
The prisoner called.
ISAAC STOWELL . I am a traveller to R.C. Cutting, Douglas and Co.—the prisoner frequently drew cheques, leaving the counterfoil to be filled in at some future time—I do not recollect his filling in £5 on a blank counterfoil—on the night before you were arrested you said that you saw Mr. Heale and me in the City Bank—I made an appointment for you at 8.30 next morning—I had an I O U of yours for ten shillings, which I paid you.
J.W. COPELAND, JUN. I am secretary to the Commercial Joint Stock Company, Limited—I am not aware that you managed the department for the advertising company—I have seen you occasionally with cheques of the company—I have not seen the balance-sheet drawn up by Mr. Russell—you officiated as secretary to the Commercial Joint Stock Company, Limited, and all cheques were drawn by you—I have not examined your books since you resigned, but you explained them to the managing director—the accounts are not practically closed—you drew a cheque en the Capital and Counties Bank on your own signature—I have applied to the bank, and they said that they would produce it on subpoena.
Cross-examined. What I am speaking about has nothing to do with this Limited Company—I have only known the prisoner since January.
ANTONY MEAKEND . I was a director of R. C. Cutting, Douglas and Co.—I have no recollection of sanctioning the drawing of a cheque for you for £125—it might have been done without my knowledge, if authorised by the board.
Evidence in reply.
JOHN MITCHELL (Re-examined). I produce a certificate of the prisoner's conviction on 25th July, 1887, at this Court, for obtaining whisky, value £100, by false pretences—I had him in custody; he was sentenced to five years' penal servitude.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that this was no company at all, not being legally registered; that the instructions to the bank were given by him, and not by the directors, who were only dummies, and contended that if he had been guilty he should not have kept the appointment which was made for his apprehension; that the company was without shareholders or subscribers, and that the capital was his own; and stated that he had been conducting himself in an honourable way since his conviction, and that, although he had paid in all the capital, he had only received about £12 since his connection with the firm.
F.W. HEALE (Re-examined). It is not true that the capital was the prisoner's—I did not know that he was liberated on a ticket-of-leave in December.
Cross-examined. The £205 which you paid in you got from a cheque drawn by me on my bank.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, October 18th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
922. JOHN KELLY* (28) , to stealing a purse and £3 2s. 1d., the goods and moneys of Elizabeth George, from the person of William Cunningham , and to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in October, 1883.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
923. HENRY WILLIAM EASON (40) , to three indictments for forging and uttering orders for £2, £2, and £3, and to a conviction of felony at Warwick, in December, 1890— Nine Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
924. GEORGE GELLIES (35) , to two indictments for stealing twenty-four lancets and other goods, of Thomas Fames and others, and to another indictment for inciting John Nicholas Gregora to steal.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
925. JOHN CHARLES MEADE (27) , to unlawfully wounding Melville Meade.— To find surety and to enter into recognisances of £100 to come up for judgment when called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
PETER APPOLLINARI . I am barman to Messrs. Gatti and Rodesano, of 166, Strand—on Saturday, 1st October, the prisoner paid me this half-crown for a glass of bitter, 2d.—I put it in the till—there was no other half-crown there—I gave the prisoner 2s. 4d. change—I put no other half-crown in the till—the next morning I found it was bad—on 6th October the prisoner tendered this other crown for a glass of lager, 3d.—I recognised him, and took the coin to Mr. Rodesano—he found it had no weight—he went to the prisoner, and said, "It is bad, and you have been here with a half-crown, which was no good"—the prisoner said, "Don't take it if it is no good; I shall change it; I will give you another"—Mr. Rodesano sent for a policeman, who took the prisoner into custody.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I am sure you gave me the half-crown—you had a black eye.
By the COURT. The 1st October was the first time I saw you.
JOSEPH RODESANO . On 6th October, about 11.30, Appollinari brought me this 5s. piece—I took it to the prisoner—he said, "If it is bad I will give you another"—I sent for a policeman—I gave the coin to him.
ALBERT PORTER (405 E). I was called to this restaurant—the proprietor said, "This man called for a small liquor, and tendered this coin; he called on the 1st and tendered this coin"—the prisoner made no answer—I took him to the station—I searched him first—I found on him a purse containing a 2s. piece, 1s., two sixpences, and 1 1/2 d. in coppers.
GUILTY .** †— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. E. A. SMITH Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ELIZABETH COVERDALE . I am a widow, of 19, Hall Street, City Road—on 18th September I went to bed at twelve o'clock—the front door was shut, but not bolted, on account of a constable living in the house being on night duty—he had a latch-key—the next morning at 6.20 I found the front door open—I went to the ground floor front room, a spare bedroom which had been locked, and found the room had been ransacked—I missed the counterpane, blanket, skirt, bodice, pair of gloves, and short cloak produced, value £2 10s.—I informed the police at Old Street—about one and a half hours later I went to that police-station, and saw these articles and the prisoner—I charged him with breaking into the house and stealing them.
GEORGE STEPHENS (287 G). On 19th September I was in the City Road in plain clothes—about 5.45 a.m. I saw the prisoner carrying this large bundle—I followed him into Kenmore Road, where I stopped him—I told him I was a police officer, and asked him what the bundle contained—he said, "Some clothing I have brought from my lodgings"—not believing his statement, I told him I should take him into custody—on the way to the station he said, "I may as well tell you all about it, governor. I am living along with a girl named Miss Hood, at 26, City Road; she is hard up, and so am I, and she has given me some of her clothing to pawn"—he was detained at the station while I made inquiries at the address given, which I found to be false—Mrs. Coverdale gave information at the station—she afterwards identified these articles—I found a key on the prisoner which fits her door—he had been charged with unlawful possession; he was charged with burglary—he said, "I did not get into the house, but I got the goods because I was hard up."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am very sorry for what I have done; I was not in my right mind. I was very hard up; I have lost my money in betting."
GUILTY .— Judgment respited.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, October 19th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
929. FREDERICK EVANS (29) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining a cheque-book from the Anglo-Austrian Bank by false pretences, after a conviction at Liverpool on 19th April, 1884.— Judgment respited.
930. JOHN BRINKLEY** (19) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of James Stevens, and stealing two pairs of boots, his property, after a conviction at Guildhall in the name of John Brown.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
931. GEORGE PARKINS and JOHN DIX , to conspiring to cheat and defraud the London and Tilbury Railway Company; and ARTHUR BURT (22), To stealing certain railway tickets of the said company. They received good characters. BURT— Nine Month' Hard Labour. PARKINS and DICKS.— To enter into recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. GRAIN and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL TAYLOR Defended.
JOHN PARKS . I am a Congregational minister, of Wandsworth—on October 9th I was driving in a four-wheeler cab from St. Pancras Station to my house—my portmanteau, which contained various articles of clothing, including this cape (produced), was on the top of the cab—the other articles I have never seen since—the cabman missed the portmanteau from off his cab, and spoke to me—the value was about £15.
ALFRED NICHOLLS . About 9.30 a.m. on October 15th, in consequence of a communication I received, I went to 31, St. Martin's Court, leading out of St. Martin's Lane—I there saw the two prisoners—it is a secondhand shop with no name—I said, "I am a police officer; there is a man in custody for stealing, last Friday, a Gladstone bag and contents, and I have reason to believe you have them in your possession"—Mrs. Edwards replied, "I don't know what you mean"—Brooks said, "She has bought nothing"—I said, "Be careful and think; I believe you have the property, and shall search the place"—Edwards then said, "Let me think a bit; a little dark man brought a fur cape here last Friday evening, and I bought it of him for 3s."—I asked to see it—she said, "I have not got it here; I lent it to my sister at Edgware Road to go home in last evening; if you wait till to-night I will get it for you"—I said, "What about the other property mentioned?"—she said, "I know nothing of it"—I said, "You can consider yourself in custody; I shall search the place"—she said, "Wait a minute; I think I have got the hand-bag downstairs"—another young woman came in, who was charged at Bow Street, but she was discharged—Edwards said to her, "These are police officers; did you see my sister have the cape to go home in I bought last Friday?'—Florence Brooks then went into the parlour and got this cape—the other officer, Doyle, then said, "What about the other articles"—Florence Brooks, or one of them, then went to the back of the shop and produced the hand-bag (I think it was Edwards)—there was a silver thimble in it—we took them all three to Bow Street—we then returned, and with Sergeant Marshall searched the place—I found four Gladstone bags, two portmanteaus, three surgical instruments, and other articles, some of which were exposed in the window, for sale—we took possession of them all, and conveyed them to Bow Street, where I showed Edwards these two bags—there is a red stripe
on each side of the bags which has been painted over—the address on the lock is "H. T. Osborn, Harpenden"—on the Rev. Mr. Gross' bag three letters have been scratched out—you can see that it has been "J. H. G."—it has been broken open—I showed those two bags to Edwards—she said, "I bought them of a little dark man. who sold me the fur cape"—there are initials on this bag now, which have been partly burnt out and painted over—I found a coat in the back room on the same floor as the shop, with the name of Hodgson on the tab.
Cross-examined. I am told that Elizabeth Edwards is married, and her husband carries on the business, and the prisoner Brooks is her father, living with them—I did not see Edwards; a man escaped, but I did not see him—the witness who saw him escape is not here—I was with Detective Vial—I quite believe that Edwards did escape by the back window—Brookes has been on bail; his son bailed him—beyond saying, "She has bought nothing," Brookes took no part in the conversation—Edwards identified Stewart, but did not say how often she had seen him.
Re-examined. They have the basement of the house and the ground floor, which is a shop—as far as I know the old man slept there—I do not know whether Edwards is married.
HENRY MARSHALL (Police Inspector). I am stationed at Bow Street—on September 16th I went to St. Martin's Court, and found this large trunk under a heap of clothing in the shop, almost out of sight—some initials on the wood have been erased—the maker's name is inside—it was empty, but these surgical instruments were found in the shop on the shelves of a dresser—this is a medical book; there is no name in it—Nicholls found this other book in a hand-bag, and handed it to me—it is a Provident Institution Savings Bank book; it is in the name of Elizabeth Brookes; she is the depositor—the last deposit was on September 14th, 1892, the day before the arrest, and the first on January 9, 1891, but it has been brought forward from another book—the amount of the deposits is £140 14s. 10d.—Mr. Hodgson identified these hair brushes.
Cross-examined. This is not the first book of deposit: £110 3s. 2d. is brought forward on January 9, 1891—the society is "The Provident Institution"—Sergeant Nicholls has inquired there.
JAMES DOYLE (Detective officer). I went with Nicholls and found three cases of surgical instruments and a medical book—the prisoner Edwards handed me one case, and asked me if that was what I was looking for—I said, "No; where did you get it from?"—she said, "I bought it of a little dark man, of whom I bought a skunk cape; I was not aware that it was stolen"—I found some boot-trees under a basket in the kitchen, and a coat and trousers in the shop, which Mr. White identified—I found, under a bed, two white hats and a pair of boots identified by Mr. Gross—these things (produced) were hanging up in the back bedroom; Mr. Gross's name is on them.
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries about Brooks—he kept one of the silhouette tables at the Royal Aquarium—I was informed that he has been an engineer and a photographic artist—I cannot tell you when he went to reside with his daughter—Edwards referred to Stewart about three times; she seemed in a very nervous condition; the only thing she produced was the case of instruments—I believe Brooks to be her father—I have kept observation on the house, but I do not know the
absconding Edwards by sight—I had a description of him from Sergeant Nicholls before I watched the premises.
GEORGE WELLS . I am a porter at the Grand Hotel, St. Pancras—on 12th August I met the train arriving there at 7.30 p.m.—Mr. Hodgson arrived by it; I knew him well—he had this bag with him (produced)—I put it and a hat box on a barrow, and left them at the hotel—I ran to the next train, and then Mr. Hodgson told me that the bag was missing—I could not find any trace of it, and saw it next at Bow Street Police-court—there was a red stripe on it, but it has been obliterated since.
WILLIAM JOHN PRATT . I am in the employ of the London and Northwestern Railway, at Euston, and look after the Lost Property Office—on August 14th, about 1.30 p.m., I went on duty, and found this trunk and two others, marked "Dr. Corner, Montreal"—I entered them in my book, and left them when I went off duty because the cloak-room was full—it was Sunday—when I went on duty again I missed this one—it has been broken open, and the name erased—the initials E. C. M. were at this end.
THOMAS A. GROSS . On 27th July I went to Charing Cross to book for Tunbridge, and saw my three pieces of luggage labelled by a ticket clerk, and left them in his charge; they contained clothes and some studs—the value was about £18—the initials J. H. G. have been erased, but the remains of them are here—it has been broken open.
ALFRED WHITE . lam a waiter at 132, Pimlico Road—on August 28th, about eight p.m., I was at Charing Cross with luggage belonging to Charles Burton—I left it in charge of a porter, and went away for a short time—when I came back I missed it—I packed it myself—there was a coat and boot-trees in it, and initials C. C. B. on it, which are not here now.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Re-examined by MR. TAYLOR). The secretary informed me that Elizabeth Edwards had been a depositor there for a number of years—I got a description of Mr. Edwards from an informer, not from a person who told me he had been at the shop—he described two men at the shop, and I gave the description to Doyle—I never saw him myself—I had not been to the shop till that morning, but I had kept observation upon it—I have been told that Brooks went to reside with his daughter since his wife's death, which I have no doubt was recent.
By MR. GRAIN. Stewart gave me no information—a second man was described as well.
MR. TAYLOR submitted that there was no evidence against
BROOKS, in which the RECORDER concurred.— NOT GUILTY .
EDWARDS GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. There were four similar other indictments against Brooks and Edwards, to which
EDWARDS PLEADED GUILTY , and MR. GRAIN offered no evidence against BROOKS.— NOT GUILTY .
STEWART then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of robbery with violence on February 9th, 1891.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
The GRAND JURY expressed their approbation of Nicholls's conduct, in which the RECORDER concurred.
KATE ROURKE PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted, and MR. COLLINS Defended.
LESSAU WANGI JARUSGAR MOOLLA . I am a merchant, of 172, Palmerston Buildings, City—I have occasionally seen Ann Rourke cleaning my office—I missed some silk in April—I identified these two pieces (produced), value £4 or £5—it is for making waistcoats in India—I informed the police—I never saw the elder prisoner to my knowledge.
Cross-examined. She was not in my employ; she was employed by the City Offices Company.
THOMAS FREEMAN . I am secretary to the City Offices Company—the prisoners were employed there as cleaners; the elder prisoner cleaned Nos. 20 to 22 and 40 to 42, and the younger 172, 173, and 191; 172 and 173 are occupied by Mr. Moolla.
Cross-examined. I had a good character with the elder prisoner, she has been with me two years—the younger prisoner had the entree to the whole of the offices.
JOSEPH CAMPBELL . I am an assistant to the executors of Mr. Barker, a pawnbroker of Houndsditch—I produce a piece of pink silk pledged on 27th. January for 15s. in the name of Jane Rourke, by one of the prisoners; I cannot say which—they have been regular customers two or three times a week—on March 17th they both came and pledged this piece of silk (produced) for 7s.
Cross-examined. I am sure they were both present on 17th March; they were regular customers—sometimes they came together and sometimes one and sometimes the other.
Re-examined. I remember this occasion, because they would not take what I offered them, and they afterwards brought it back and took the money.
By the COURT. I did not know their occupation—I knew they were in a humble class of life, but they had been customers for years, not for valuable silks, but for general clothing—I had no suspicion whatever.
THOMAS ABBOTT (City Detective Sergeant). Early this year I received information about the robbery of silk from Mr. Moolla's premises—I saw the prisoners in Mr. Freeman's office in April, and said, "There has been some silk stolen from Mr. Moolla's office; do you know anything about it?"—they' both said, "No," and it was allowed to drop—from subsequent information I went to see them again on September 8th, and said, "You remember me speaking to you in April about some silk missing from Mr. Moolla's office?"—they said, "Yes"—I spoke to them separately first, and then together—I said, "At that time you said you knew nothing about it; it has come to my knowledge that a piece of silk is in pledge which is identified by Mr. Moolla, which was stolen from his office in January last"—they were taken in custody; I only knew about one piece then—Campbell was confronted with them, and said he was positive they were both in the shop—they were then charged with stealing one piece—I went to their house, 173, Cartwright Street; they have two rooms there—I found, in a chest of drawers in the front room, forty-one pawntickets in a small bag—I saw both prisoners the next morning with the tickets in my hand, and said to them, "I have been to your address, and in a chest of drawers I found all these pawntickets;" and I said to the elder prisoner,
"Do they belong to you?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "There are two relating to silk, one pledged in January and the other on February 2nd' she—said, "I know nothing about them; my daughter has said that she pledged or had taken two pieces of silk there that morning."
MARY ANN ROURKE, GUILTY of receiving. — Ten Months' Hard Labour.
KATE ROURKE then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on 12th March, 1888.— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. JONES Prosecuted.
The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.
JOSEPH OSBORNE . I am a tailor, of 63, Great Portland Street—on 17th September, at 11.15 p.m., I was in the front kitchen, and heard the door open and somebody come into the passage—my wife called, "Is that you, Tom?" and getting no answer she went upstairs and I followed—when I got to the street door my wife said, "Run!"—I heard them calling "Stop thief!" and I ran and found the prisoner in custody—Tom is my son.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see you in the house—you said at the station that you had lost £2.
SARAH ANN OSBORNE . I am the wife of the last witness—on September 17th, at 11.15 p.m., I heard a noise at the passage door—I went up, but found no one in the passage—I went into the street, and saw Mr. Edwards, and in consequence of what he told me I went after two men and said, "What have you been in my house for?"—the tall man said, "I have not been in your house"—I said, "You have; this gentleman saw you come out," pointing to Mr. Edwards—he said, "It is a mistake; my key won't fit your door"—I said, "Let me see your key"—he gave me the key, we went back, and the key opened it—he spoke to the prisoner; I did not understand what he said, but the prisoner ran away—Mr. Edwards and Mr. Hitchcock pursued him.
By the COURT. Before I went upstairs I heard footsteps in the passage, of more than one person, and called out, "Is that you, Tom?"
Cross-examined. You did not say a single word which I understood—if you had said that a man had robbed you of your purse and money I should not have understood you.
JOHN WESTCOTT . I live at 132, Great Titchfield Street—on Saturday, September 17th, I was with Mr. Edwards, passing the prosecutor's house, and saw the prisoner and another man leave the house—Mr. Edwards stopped and looked at them, and at that moment Mrs. Osborne opened the door, and Mr. Edwards made a communication to her—she followed them to the corner of the street, and charged them with being in her house, which they denied, and the tall man said, "This is my key; it will not open your door"—the tall man came right up to the door, and the prisoner part of the way—the key was tried, and it fitted—they commenced to run almost directly; Edwards followed them, calling "Stop thief!" and the prisoner was stopped—a man came up and spoke to one of them; I cannot say which; I was ten yards away.
Cross-examined. I did not see the other man put a handkerchief into his pocket with something in it—I saw you leaving the door, which was partly open.
By the COURT. He did not suggest at the Police-court that a man had put a handkerchief into his pocket—he spoke a little broken English.
ERNEST CHARLES EDWARDS . I am an engineer, of 31, Riding House Street—on 17th September, about 11.15, I was passing the prosecutor's house, and saw the prisoner and another man leave the door; a third man was present—Mrs. Osborne came to the door and told her what had occurred, and they stood twelve or thirteen yards further on conversing—she went back, and the tall man with her, who had a key which fitted the door—the prisoner came back part of the way—after they found that the key fitted they ran; I ran after them, and a constable stopped one, and I arrested the prisoner; he said in good English, "Not me, the big one"—the constable let the other man go; I ran after him, caught him, and struggled with him on the ground—as he ran away he threw away a key—I afterwards picked up this knife and sheath and chisel at the place where we struggled—a policeman took him to the station and I went with him—he was seated in a corner, and I heard something fall, and saw a constable pick up a handkerchief and a few keys—I saw his face when he came out of the house, and am sure he is the man.
JAMES HALDANE (269 D). On 17th September I was on duty in Regent Street, at 11.15, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner and a man not in custody running—I stopped the prisoner, he said, "It is not me, it is the other man," and I released him—Mr. Edwards came up and said, "He is the man" and seized him—I saw the struggle, and saw the chisel and knife picked up—while he was sitting at the station he dropped three keys in a handkerchief on the carpet—I found on him fourteen different kinds of keys, some of which are skeleton keys—this candle was in his inside pocket.
By the COURT. These are mostly latchkeys—I did not see how he put the chisel and knife down, that was done in the struggle—three keys were picked up by another witness.
Cross-examined. I did not take the man when you told me, because he was too far off—you were running away from him, not after him—you said in good English that he had robbed you of your money—I heard a witness tell the Magistrate that you were the only man he knew in England, and that you had only been here two or three days.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence through the Interpreter, said that the knife, the pipe, and the small keys were his, and the chisel he had nothing to do with, and that the other man gave him the things in a handkerchief to hold; that he never was in the house, but could not say whether the other man went in, but he believed he lived in the house, as he told him he had a room for him, and when he found he had robbed him of his purse he called out to stop him; and that he had only been three days in England when he was arrested.
GUILTY — Six Months' Hard Labour.
(For cases tried in the Third Court, Wednesday, see Surrey cases.)
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, October 20th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. MATHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. MALLINSON Defended.
THOMAS PROUD . I am second clerk at the West London Police-court—I was in court on 10th September—Mr. Curtis Bennett presided—a charge of felony was brought against Elizabeth Blanchard and the prisoner—witnesses were called—the prisoner made a statement, after which she was discharged from custody—later in the day Blanchard was again brought up, when she called the prisoner, who was sworn and gave her evidence—these are her depositions, which I took down. (This was read: "I was basement-maid at the Queen's Gate Hotel; I had been there five months. I remember prisoner giving me 5s. The half-crowns produced were the same. I got them on Thursday. I went home to 73, Woodchester Street, Paddington, that day, and to a friend's at Mansion Mews, Queen's Gate. We did not go to any shop till the evening. My mother and I went to Rudd's in the Harrow Road. I bought eight yards of print for 3s. 4d., and changed a sovereign for it. That was for the prisoner. I gave her 1s. 8d. in change on Friday morning and the stuff. I gave mother 10s. in gold. I only paid my tram fare 4d. I had 4s., two half-crowns, and a sixpence in my purse when I was taken. I gave 2d. away among four of my little brothers and sisters. I was in service at Craven Terrace five months up to May. I left because the family went abroad. My character was a very good one. Two other servants sleep in the same room as the prisoner. One has only been there a week; the other was there before I went. Prisoner had a Sunday out, and one evening during the week, Tuesday or Wednesday. She and I had been very good friends. As far as I know the other two girls were also good friends of the prisoner.")—the following Monday this letter came, addressed to the Magistrate, after which he gave directions to the police—on Wednesday, 14th, I drew up an information by Elizabeth Blanchard, upon which a warrant was granted for the prisoner's arrest—the prisoner was taken into custody, and brought up before Mr. Bennett, on Thursday, 15th—I took the depositions—I was a witness—the prisoner was committed for trial.
Cross-examined. I take down the substance of the question and answer to make a connected narrative.
Re-examined. I take down what the witness says.
EDITH ROBERTSON . I am bookkeeper to Mrs. Gardner, of the Queen's Hotel—the prisoner was basement-maid up to 9th September, for three or four months—Blanchard was pantry-maid for about fifteen months—she is still employed—in August last money had been missed—on 21st August a sum of money was missed, in consequence of which Detective Travies called, and, in my presence, marked two half-crowns, four shillings, and two sixpences—they were put in an envelope on which was written, "Odd money"—it was put in a drawer of the writing-desk that stands on my desk in my office—the drawer and the desk were both unlocked—after 22nd August I examined those coins from time to time—I last saw them on Friday, 9th September—I omitted to do so on 8th—on 9th,
about two o'clock, I found in the envelope the four shillings and the two sixpences, the two half-crowns were missing—these two half-crowns produced are those which Travies marked, and which I missed on 9th September—I then gave information to Mrs. Gardner—a constable was sent for—Harlock was sent for to her bedroom—I was there, and the constable—her trunk was searched, and she was asked and produced her purse—amongst other money these two half-crowns were found—the constable asked her where she got them—she said Elizabeth Blanchard had given them to her, I think she said on the Thursday—Blanchard was sent for and came to the bedroom—Mrs. Gardner, who was present, asked her if she had given Harlock two half-crowns—she was called Harriet, the other girl Lizzie—she said yes, she had given her two half-crowns—Mrs. Gardner said, "I must give you both in charge"—the constable took them to the station with these coins and purse—the next day I went before the Magistrate, when these coins were shown to me, which I identified as the marked money—when the case was over the prisoner came back to the hotel—I was present when Mrs. Gardner said to the prisoner that evening, "Now, Harriet, I know more than you think I do, you had better tell me the truth," and "I can bring other evidence to show that you have taken other things"—Mrs. Gardner then produced these nibs and said, "Where did you get them from?"—the prisoner said she bought them at Porter's in Sussex Place for 8d. or 8 1/2 d.—a constable was again sent for—when he came I went out of the room for a few minutes—when I returned I heard a conversation. [MR. MALLINSON objected to what was said, on the ground that it was a threat or inducement by a person in authority. He cited the Queen v. Herne (1 Carrington and Marshman, p. 109.) MR. AVORY contended that this evidence referred to another charge and was admissible, citing Mack and Warner against Warner (Russell on Crimes, 452), the COMMON SERJEANT considered it was doubtful, and did not admit it.]—The prisoner was taken to the Police-station—Mrs. Gardner did not attend to prosecute—no proceedings were taken—the prisoner came to the hotel the following Monday and got her boxes—I have not seen her since except at the Police-court—I purchased this box of nibs on the Thursday, about four p.m., and put them with the stores in a parcel—I took them out of the parcel and put them in the drawer where the envelope marked "odd money" was lying—I had cut the paper to enable the lid to be opened.
Cross-examined. My cash-box is locked, but not the drawer—I am in the room the greater part of the day—I leave the room during luncheon-time—I am absent before breakfast whilst the room is being cleaned—the prisoner cleaned the room—others could go in while I was away—I did not lock my drawer, because it was always being used—I might leave 1d. or 2d. loose in the drawer—money had been before missed from my cash-box—I kept the key in my pocket almost always—there are about seventeen servants in the hotel—one is younger than Harlock—Harlock said she was seventeen—I examined the money every day except the 18th September—I took it out and counted it—I thought the thief was not coming—I was not contented with merely looking at the envelope—I missed counting the money on Thursday, 8th September, because it was a very busy day—I had busy days besides—I first noticed the envelope had been moved—I do not think that made me suspicious—I pay the wages—I paid the prisoner one sovereign on Thursday, 8th, her monthly
wages—I paid Blanchard one sovereign and two half-crowns on the Saturday—also the kitchen-maid £1 8s. 4., and the scullery-maid £1 3s. 4.—I cannot remember the coins—I paid twelve or thirteen servants on the Saturday, varying sums—I am certain the half-crowns were not in the wages—she did not refuse to turn out her pocket.
Re-examined. The cash-box was not in the same drawer as the money—I kept the key of the cash-box in my pocket, or when I was at the desk by my side—my cash box would not be in the drawer in the early morning when the prisoner cleaned the room, because I take it away at night and return it when I go to breakfast.
MARY EMILY GARDNER . I am the proprietress of the hotel—the prisoner was basement and Blanchard scullery maid—money had been missed from the cash-box—I knew of the marking of the coins on my return after being away—whilst the prisoner and Blanchard were at the Police-court I made a search in the house—in the pocket of the prisoner's dress I found some gloves and these nibs, which were pat into the box and made up the number thirty-six—I think the number I found was sixteen or seventeen—I found the remainder of the thirty-six in the box in the drawer from which the money had been stolen—"¼ gross" is on the box—I conversed with the prisoner on her return from the Police-court—about ten minutes after coming downstairs the prisoner and Blanchard met in the housekeeper's room—each spoke to the other—after that the prisoner was again taken to the station—I refused to attend and charge her.
Cross-examined. I insisted upon the prisoner apologising to Blanchard—I did not tell her to make a statement—I said I would only forgive her if she apologised—I mentioned the numbers to the Magistrate—the dress I examined was an ordinary print—I have not a daughter.
JANE ELIZABETH BLANCHARD . I had been pantry-maid at the Queen's Gate Hotel for fifteen months, when I was paid my wages on, the 3rd September, £20—on Thursday, the 8th September, the prisoner had a half-day off, and I said to her, "As you are going out get me some stuff"—she said she would—I told her the kind of stuff, and she was to get it where she pleased—that was about 12.30—I saw her next on Friday morning about nine, when she gave me the stuff and 1s. 8d. change, saying she had spent 3s. 4d.—she said she got it at Rudd's, in the Harrow Road—on 10th September the police came and made an investigation in the servants' bedroom—Mrs. Gardner sent for me, and when I got to the bedroom she said, "I will give you in charge for stealing"—I had not then heard the prisoner's statement about me—I said, "What for? What have I stolen?"—Mrs. Gardner said that Harriet said that I gave her the two half-crowns which Mrs. Gardner produced——I said I did not know I gave her two marked half-crowns; I gave her two half-crowns—several had mentioned about half-crowns being marked—we were charged by the constable, and taken to the station after we had changed our dresses—we were charged at the station—we remained in custody, and were brought before Mr. Curtis Bennett the next morning—the prisoner made a statement, after which she was discharged—I was put back in custody till the afternoon—I called the prisoner as my witness
—she then made upon oath the same statement: that I had given her the two marked half-crowns—I heard her explain how she had spent the sovereign she had received in wages, and as to the balance—that same afternoon I was discharged from custody—I went back to the hotel—I next saw the prisoner in Mrs. Gardner's room; I left 'her in the room with Mrs. Gardner—I next saw her downstairs in the housekeeper's room—a policeman, Miss Wells, Mrs. Gardner, and Miss Roberton were there—in consequence of what Miss Wells told me I spoke to the prisoner.
MARY EMILY GARDNER (Recalled). I was present at the conversation between the prisoner and Blanchard—I said nothing—in the previous conversation I had with the prisoner I told her she had better speak the truth; that was said upstairs—the policeman was not present; he was at the second interview—there was an interval of a few minutes.
JANE ELIZABETH BLANCHARD (continued). After the conversation downstairs the prisoner was taken to the Police-station—no further charge was preferred against her—I wrote to the Magistrate that same week—I afterwards swore information.
Cross-examined. We were all very sociable; I was not more friendly with the prisoner than with others—I never borrowed pens from her—I had no means of identifying the half-crown I gave her.
ELIZA TEMPLEMAN . I am a dressmaker, of 83, Beaufort Street, Chelsea—on Thursday, 8th September, the prisoner paid me 12s. 6d. for making a dress, and 3s. 2d. for lining—the work was to be finished by the Saturday.
Cross-examined. I was not asked about the 3s. 2d. before the Magistrate—I forgot it.
WALTER DEW (Sergeant of F). I arrested the prisoner on a warrant on 14th September—I read the warrant to her—she hesitated a few minutes, and then said, "What I told them at the Court was true. This is done for spite"—she was taken to the Police-station and charged—she made no reply when the inspector read the charge over to her.
Cross-examined. I was in Court when the prisoner was before the Magistrate the second time—she did not say a word about spite then.
GUILTY. The JURY strongly recommended her to mercy, Mrs. Margaret Callow having stated her willingness to become surety, to take charge of the prisoner for twelve months, and then to place her again in service — To provide one surety of £100, and to enter into her own recognisances of £50 to come up for judgment when called upon.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, October 20th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
937. RICHARD MAURICE JONES (35) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences from George Lefevre and James Daglish, after a conviction at this Court on 8th April, 1889, of a like offence. (There was also an indictment against him for forgery, upon which no evidence was offered. )— Five Years' Penal Servitude. And
MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted.
ADELAIDE FRIOSCHI . I am the wife of Charles Frioschi, of 81, Southampton Street, Clerkenwell—the prisoner was a friend of mine—on the night of October 5th we had a few words, and she took out a knife and stabbed me in my face, in two places, but I do not think she intended it; I think she had had a glass of drink—I went to the station, and a medical man dressed my wounds.
Cross-examined. I did not hit you on your head with my umbrella—I had an umbrella, but I did not raise it—I said, "Why don't you go home?" and then you took out the knife and stabbed me—I do not want to press the charge against you—I had not been drinking.
JOSEPH HUTCHINSON . I am a surgeon—on October 6th, at 12.45, I was called to the police-station and saw the prosecutrix; she had two punctured wounds, one an inch from the outside angle of her right eye, and the other an inch below the lobe of her right ear—they were slight wounds—this knife might have caused them; it is an ordinary pocketknife.
THOMAS RABBETT (296 G). On October 5th, at 12.45, the prosecutrix gave the prisoner in to my charge for stabbing her—she said, "I did," and produced the knife, opened it, and said, "I will show you how I did it"—I took it from her—I think she had been drinking.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that she had been drinking, and that the prosecutrix struck hr with an umbrella and broke it over her head; that she had just been eating meat, and had a knife in her hand and stabbed her, but did not intend to do her any bodily harm.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.—Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Two Months' Hard labour.
MR. HURRELL Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
HARRIETT JEWETT . I live at 81, St. Thomas Street, Bow Common Lane—on June 21st, about 1.30 a.m., I was in bed, and heard a noise at my window—I listened a little while, and was awoke a second time by the window shaking—I rose and lifted the blind, and saw two men standing on the wash-house roof—there is only one storey; the kitchen is on the ground floor—the prisoner is one of the men, and Charles Fox was the other—I called out "Thieves!" and they went on their hands and knees along the wall and into East Street—I called Mrs. Cadman, who came and sat with me some time in my room—I was not aware that the house had been broken into; I am only a lodger—my window was pulled down from the top—I afterwards picked out the prisoner from seven or eight men; but I picked out another man before I saw him.
Cross-examined. The man who is undergoing imprisonment was at the window, and the prisoner was behind; they had their hats and coats on—I had never seen them before—this was June 21st, and I picked the
prisoner out on October 4th—I think the men's hats were off then—there were one or two fair men—I went up to one and said, "That is the man"—an officer said, "Be sure you take notice"—I did not again say, "That is the man"—when I went in an officer said, "Be very careful"—he did not say, "Be careful" after I had picked out the wrong man—Mrs. Cadman then came in and picked out the prisoner, although she had not been in the room when the two thieves were at the window—some of the men in the room were not dressed in sailors' clothes—I looked down the row and looked back again.
By the COURT. It was 1.30 a.m., in June, and there was a little light; I could see their features; they were close to the window—they had not time to get far, because my bed was close to the window.
LOUISA CADMAN . I am the wife of Samuel James Cadman, of 81, St. Thomas Street—on 21st June I saw the house safely shut up when I went to bed at twelve o'clock—the kitchen door was bolted, and the window fastened—Mrs. Jewett aroused me about 1.30, but I did not go down till seven; I then found that the kitchen window had been cut out and the curtains moved, and two days afterwards I missed a basket of clothes, and saw them at Rotherhithe Police-station—I did not recognise anybody there.
Cross-examined. I went with Mrs. Jewett to the police-station last month—I did not see her pick out a man named Allison; she did not point out the prisoner—I went into a room where seven or eight men were all of a row, and picked out the third man as knowing him from childhood, and being concerned in the affair—that was the prisoner, but I did not see him at the window.
FRANCIS EDWARD HART . I am a waterman, of 67, Park Street—on 21st June, about 1.30 a.m., I was at Limehouse Pier, which is nearly three-quarters of a mile from Thomas Street—two men came to me with a basket, and I rowed them to the stairs, Rotherhithe—one jumped out and ran away; I stopped the other for my fare—he threatened to chuck me in the mud, so I thought it better to get out of it—I afterwards recognised him as Charles Fox—he bad the basket—he was brought back on the Saturday (see page 1044)—I do not recognise the other man.
ALFRED HILLS (127 M). On 21st June, about 2.30 a.m., I was in Rotherhithe and saw the prisoner and Fox running—Fox was carrying a basket of linen—I stopped him, and the prisoner crossed the road—I said, "Here, do you know this man?"—he said, "Yes, I have seen him before," and ran away—I am sure the prisoner is the man; I have known him over two years.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in my sight about five minutes.
GEORGE BURFORD (267 M). On 3rd October I was in Rotherhithe Street, and saw the prisoner some distance ahead of me—he got behind a van, and knowing he was wanted for a burglary I ran after him and caught him—he said, "What is it for?"—I said, "For burglary in the K Division"—he said, "I have been away at sea, I don't know anything about it"—I had known him about twelve months, and he knew me quite well.
WALTER REED (Detective K). On October 4th I received the prisoner in custody at Rotherhithe station, and said he would be charged with being concerned with a man not in custody in committing a burglary in
Thomas Street, on 21st June—he made no reply—I took him to the station; he was placed with several men, and Mrs. Jewett came and picked out another young man and said, "That looks like him"; but, turning her eyes down the row, she said, "This is him; this is Charley Hutchings"—he was charged, and made no reply.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I want to call the man who was picked out first."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted; Mr. K. FRITH appeared for Long, and MR. SANDS for Seal.
ANDREW ROGNAAS . I am boatswain of the ss. Midlothian—on September 27th I arrived in London, and was paid oft at the shipping office—I received £7, and went to the Scandinavian Home—I left £5 there, and then returned to the shipping office and met an old man who they call Hughes, and engaged him to take my bag from the ship to the Home—we took a boat and went on board the ship, got the bag and a chest, and took it ashore—he set it outside a public-house, and we went in—I did not notice the prisoners there—I understand English pretty well—I then went to another house with Hughes—he got a barrow, and said something about his son; that referred to Long, who said, "This old man is my father, and I will take the barrow and luggage to the Home"—the old man went away with the barrow—he took me to a house which I have pointed out to the police, where I saw Long, who put my luggage inside the house, and said he would drive it up to the Scandinavian Home for nothing—the other prisoner fetched the change, and there was a third man who is not here—Seals brought a van about seven p.m., and the prisoners and I got into it—when we drove away one of them put his hand over my mouth—Seals struck me on my face, and they put their hands in my pockets, and took all I had—I was kicked many times on my face, and both eyes and my mouth were injured—I lost about £2—I could not cry out—I have not seen my luggage since—I do not know how I came out of the wagon—I spoke to a constable—I picked out both the prisoners at the station.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I came ashore about two o'clock—I did not stop at a public-house before I went to the Home—I had a glass of beer with the old man—it was not dark—I was sober—it was dark when I was robbed—the van looked as if it had a cover to it in the dark, hut I do not know whether it had or not—the prisoners gave me some drink before I left the house—I was quite sober at the time I was robbed, and yet I do not know whether the van was covered or not—I picked out Long from about a dozen others, but there was not another man like him in height and age—they were not put in a line, they stood round the police-station—I saw Long first, and then I saw the big fellow (Seals) who corresponded to the description I had given to the police—I went down the line twice to look at them, and the second time I went down I picked out the big man—I do not know the number of the house, and could not find it, but a detective showed it to me on Sunday morning,
and I went inside, and saw the same children in the house—I told the police next morning what the men were like.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I only went to one public-house—I do not remember going to the Tiger—I had a couple of glasses of beer at the house where Long was, and I do not remember going into a second public-house with Hughes.
Re-examined. I have been in London before—I do not know the district round the Docks very well—I had not been to that public-house before.
JAMES HUGHES . I live at 15, Rose Alley, Bishopsgate Street, and have been fireman on board ship forty years—the last ship I was on was three years ago; I have been labouring since—on 28th September I was at Lockhart's Coffee-shop, Tower Hill, and met Rognaas there—he spoke to me first, and asked me to carry his luggage—we went to Custom House Quay, and took a sculler's boat and went on board the Midlothian—then came ashore and went to Queen Street, Tower Hill, and got a barrow, and went to the Tiger, where I left him while I got the barrow—we then went to the Ship and Star, and then to Royal Mint Street, and through Cable Street into Wellclose Square—one of three men who were talking to the prosecutor ordered me to go there; the prisoner Long lives there—he is not a friend of mine, but I knew him well; I did not know that he lived there—I have known the two prisoners a long time, but not by name—I saw Long at the Tiger—the prosecutor gave me two shillings for carrying his luggage, when I went to the Whip and Star, with the prosecutor and Long and another man, and then to Wellclose Square; I did not at this time know whose house; it was in Wellclose Square—I did not suggest going there; he went of his own will; he was sober enough—we got to Wellclose Square at 6.30 or 7 o'clock—Long carried his luggage; I went into the house after them—Long and the other man were there, and two or three of Long's children and a woman—I remained about five minutes—I did not see Seals—I did not help to carry the luggage out of the house that evening—when I was taken there a week afterwards I recognised the parlour.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. The first house I went to was the Tiger—I remained there about five minutes, and then went to the Ship and Star; I have no doubt about that—Long and the prosecutor went in, and I had my barrow at the door—I said at the Police-court, "I saw the prisoners in that house, I left the prosecutor in company of two men"—I did not say not the prisoners; I said they were the prisoners—the prisoners were present when the money was paid to me in Wellclose Square, but not the big one—I never saw him—I did not know where Long lived—he was in the parlour at Wellclose Square, and the other men and the children—I did not see these men in the kitchen—I did not say before the Magistrate I did see Long in the kitchen and another man in the kitchen—that is as true as everything else I have said—I never said, "The woman and children were there, no one else"—I know the other man by sight, but not his name—I said, "He was a young man about my stamp, with auburn hair"—I gave evidence at the Police-court for the first time in my life, and I listened very carefully.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I first saw the prosecutor at a little after four o'clock—I was in his company the whole time till we went to Wellclose Square—I think I had three glasses of mild ale—I left between 6.30 and seven—it was past six; it was dark.
JOHN MCCARTHY . I live at the North-East Passage, and work for Mr. Oakwell, of Cable Street, carman and contractor—on a Wednesday in September, about 7.30, Seals came for a pony and van—I let him have a big horse and a large one-horse open van—he paid my mistress—he said he was going to take some men to the railway station; he brought the van back in about an hour.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. It was usual for Seals to hire vans of me at all hours of the day—he went to the shop first, and then to the stable in Wellclose Square—I do not remember his saying that he was going to take two men to join their ship—Moorgate Street Station is about a mile from the stable—it was just 7.30 when the van started; I guessed the time, because the firm next door knock off at seven, and it was half an hour after that—it came back at 8.30—he was wearing the same clothes as he has got now.
Re-examined. He comes to me sometimes two or three times a week, and sometimes twice a day, and says he wants a van to take men to the railway station and to the docks.
CHARLES HENRY PRESTON BELL . I am house surgeon of the Seamen's Hospital—I examined the prosecutor; he had two very bad black eyes, with bruises extending under his cheek, and on the surface of one eyeball there was a collection of blood; several of his front teeth were knocked out, and others loosened—he complained of being knocked about and bruised on his chest—I did not strip him, because I was not aware anything of this kind was going to crop up—kicks or hitting would cause it—they were not serious—he did not turn up again, but I saw him a week afterwards in the solicitor's office, and he had still black eyes.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. He came between twelve and two on the day but one afterwards—there had no doubt been brutal treatment.
WILLIAM THICK (Detective Sergeant H). On September 29th the prisoner came to me and made a complaint, and on October 2nd, about 6.30 a.m., I went to 12, Harold Place, St. George's-in-the-East—Wellclose Square is close by; that is Long's house—I said, "I am a police officer, and am going to arrest you for assaulting and robbing a sailor," and told him the day—he made no reply—I took him to the station; he was placed with eight or ten others of as nearly the same appearance as I could get, and the prosecutor identified him—we afterwards went back to Long's house, and he identified the place and the woman and children.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I daresay it took me half an hour to select eight or ten men in the street—I got them as near as I could; I thought that was the fairest thing to do.
JOHN COLE (Detective B). On October 2nd, about seven a.m., I went with Thick and a constable to Ellen Place, where the prisoner Seals lived—I told him I should take him in custody on suspicion of being concerned with others in robbing a seaman named Rognaas on the 28th—he said, "All right, I will go; I was in bed at seven o'clock on Wednesday"—he was taken to the station and placed with a number of others, and the prosecutor identified him without hesitation—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. The identification of both did not take place at the same time, nor did I use the same men—five or six of the
men were as big and as tall as Seals; we waited till we got big ones—some came from a common lodging-house close by—the people there are not mostly Jews; they are mostly Irish—he was dressed as he is now—he had not much beard then, but he was rather rough—some of the giants had whiskers and moustaches—I do not think any of them were clean shaven; they had handkerchiefs round their necks—I consider the prisoner Seals to be 5 ft. 11 in. high.
Re-examined. That is a usual style of dress in Whitechapel.
Long, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he asked the prosecutor to stop and board with him, but he preferred going to the Home; that he had a cup of tea there, and gave the children some coppers; he denied the robbery.
A. ROGNAAS (Re-examined by MR. SANDS). I identified both prisoners on the same day, from eight or ten others—the same men were not present when I identified each; some of them were as large as Seals, and some were little—Seals had not got that coat on on the night of the robbery.
Evidence for Long's Defence.
HARRY LONG . I am a fruit porter, of 18, Eyre Street, Bethnal Green—on the evening before my brother was arrested he was in my company from six o'clock till 10.30, sitting in his kitchen—I went round to visit him at 6.15; he keeps a lodging-house—I had been there five minutes when a sailor was brought in, and I understood he was going to stay there—the prosecutor is the man; he came in with another man, and brought a box and left it in the passage; he was drunk—I heard them talking in the passage—my brother stayed there all the evening; he was in my company till about 10.30.
Cross-examined. I visit my brother perhaps not once in three months, and perhaps two or three times a week—the evening I am referring to was three weeks yesterday; it was Wednesday, and I think it was September 27th or 28th—I had no definite object in going to see my brother; he is a waterman—my other brother was there; three brothers were there and the wife and children, no one else—the old man who brought the sailor in was a stranger to me—the sailor went out for about twenty minutes, saying that he wanted to go to the Scandinavian Home to stay there—he came back with some more men; I did not go to the door, but I heard them talking—the old man Hughes went out and left the sailor there, he was paid some money by somebody, and went away—I took no part in removing the sailor's luggage when he came back—I did not see the men who came back.
By the COURT. I said before the Magistrate that the sailor came back with some men—I did not suggest to the Magistrate that any men had come there—I did not refuse to sign my deposition. (The deposition was marked, "This witness refused to sign his deposition.")
By MR. DRAKE. When the sailor came back with two men, I believe his luggage was removed; the men who came with him, whoever they were, put it into the van—my brother was then standing against the kitchen door; he did not go out of the house, he remained there all the time I was there; it was turned 10.30 when I left, and I had not been out of his house.
By MR. SANDS. I should say it was 6.15 when I left there, because I left work at six.
By the COURT. I believe my brother, the prisoner, has done some
tailoring, and I Have known him to get his living as a waterman; I do not think he has followed up the tailoring.
GUILTY .—LONG then
PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction on January 31st, 1887, and SEALS to one on October 16th, 1882.
LONG— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. SEALS— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, October list, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted.
CAROLINE FOSTER . I am midwife of St. Marylebone Workhouse—the prisoner came there as a patient in the name of Elizabeth Russell early in September, and on the 4th was delivered of a male child, afterwards christened by the name of Michael—it was a fairly healthy child—she left the workhouse on Saturday morning, 24th September, with the child—I afterwards saw it on the 25th at the Hampstead Mortuary.
CATHERINE CONNELL . I am the wife of John Connell, of 18, Harrow Street, Lisson Grove—I have known the prisoner for some years—she was confined there—on Saturday morning, 24th September, Heft the workhouse with her and the child—she said she was going to take it to Mrs. Nicholls, at Primrose Hill, and leave it with her to nurse—she said she had no money—I left her at five minutes to eleven, and appointed to meet her next Monday afternoon to go together and find some work—she had the child cuddled up to her in her dress, with this serge round it, and a diaper inside, leaving the face uncovered—she appeared very kind to it—it seemed strong and healthy.
HANNAH RYAN . I am the wife of Richard Ryan, of 37, Lisson Street—I have known the prisoner ten years and more—I saw her on Saturday evening, 4th September, between nine and half-past, come out of a public-house next door with a few women—she had no baby with her.
LOUISA RUSSELL . I live at 37, Lisson Street—I have known the prisoner some little time—on the Saturday she left the workhouse, about nine in the evening, I found her in my room when I came home—I asked her where the baby was—she said it was in a convent, and she was going to pay 3s. a week for it to mind when she got work—she said it was a fine baby, I should see it—she stayed on at Lisson Street till the following Tuesday morning, when she was arrested—she had to pawn her clothes to get food.
CHARLES LANHAM . I am a milk-carrier, at 154, Sherlam Road, Paddington—in the ordinary course of my rounds I deliver milk in Boundary Road, St. John's Wood—at half-past seven on Sunday morning, 25th September, I went to No. 15 to deliver milk—it is a semidetached house—there is a garden through which you walk to the back door, and then along a path to the front door—my attention was attracted by a bundle of serge—I undid it, and saw the face of a child; it was quite dead and cold—I had to pull away a piece of the serge before I saw it; it was fully dressed—I at once sent for a constable, who went for Dr.
Howell—I bad no difficulty in seeing the bundle; it was not bid—this is the serge.
HORACE SIDNEY HOWELL . I am a surgeon, of 18, Boundary Road—I was called to No. 15, and saw the body of the child—it was wrapped in this serge; it was tightly folded round the body, and pinned with two pins—the face was livid, and marked by the creases of the serge, which had been tightly drawn over it—the skin was suffused and purplish in colour—the chin was pressed down on the breast-bone, the arms were bent, and the fingers clutched, the thumbs being pressed into the palm of the hands—the finger and toe nails were purple—all the appearances were consistent with death by suffocation—next day I made a post-mortem examination, and came to the same conclusion—it would be impossible for the child to have lived wrapped in the condition it was. (The witness described the way in which it was wrapped.)
GEORGE FERRIS (Police Sergeant S). On the 25th September I went to the Hampstead Mortuary, and saw the clothing that had been on the child's body; it was marked "S. M. B. (St. Marylebone Workhouse)"—on Tuesday, 27th, I went to 37, Lisson Street, and saw the prisoner in a back room at the top of the house—I said to her, "lam a police sergeant; I want to know where your baby is; your name is Elizabeth Russell"—she said, "No; my name is McCarthy"—I said, "You will have to come with me to Portland Town Police-station; you will be charged with causing the death of the child; it has been found and identified by Mrs. Foster, of Marylebone Workhouse"—she said, "I left it with Mrs. Nicholls, of Primrose Hill"—I said, "That is very vague; what is her address?"—she said, "St. John's Wood Terrace; I can tell you no more."
PHŒBE NICHOLLS . I live at 7, St. John's Grove Mews, Primrose Hill—I have known the prisoner about five years—I saw her about four months ago—she called, and I had some conversation with her about a situation—I did not notice that she was pregnant; that was the last time I saw her—there was no arrangement that she should come to me with her child—I did not see her on 24th September.
JOHN ROSS (Inspector S). I was at Portland Town Station when the prisoner was brought there on 27th September—she was charged with causing the death of her child—she said, "I have nothing to say, only the truth"—she then made a statement, which I took down—this is it: "I left the baby there between six and seven on Saturday evening; I fed it about half an hour before I left it there; the baby was sound alseep when I left it there. I had no money for him or for myself; I done it, I know I done it; there was no one else there"—I afterwards went to 15, Boundary Road—the front wall is about 4 feet high with iron railings on the top.
Prisoner's Defence. I have nothing to say; I have been very unfortunate; I had been out of work; I had no money. I am very sorry I left the baby there; it was a beautiful light night.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for unlawfully exposing the said child, in a manner to endanger its life, upon which no evidence was offered.
NEW COURT.—Friday, October 21st, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. C. MATHEWS and MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted, and MR. ABEL THOMAS, Q.C., Defended.
HENRY TAYLOR (City Detective). On 80th June I received a warrant from Guildhall Police-court for the prisoner's arrest—I knew his address, 1, Piccadilly, and went there the same day, but did not find him—the shop was not closed; a young woman was in charge of it—in consequence of information, I went to New York, where the prisoner was handed over to me by the U.S. Marshal on board the ss. City of Paris, and we embarked for England—while at sea I mentioned the charge to him; I had the warrant—he said, "I paid for most of the goods, and left about £2,000 worth in my shop in Piccadilly"—I brought him via Liverpool to London.
Cross-examined. The only warrant I had was for larceny, for which he was extradited—I saw Mr. Herbert and Mr. Frankell at Euston; they both saw the prisoner. (MR. THOMAS contended that at the warrant was not for larceny at a bailee, this COURT had no jurisdiction, the prisoner not having been extradited for that offence. The RECORDER decided that the COURT had jurisdiction.)—I heard Mr. Frankell and the prisoner speaking, bat I was looking after the baggage—I did not hear him advise the prisoner to plead guilty and throw himself on the mercy of the Court.
HENRY FRANKELL . I am assistant to Benzion Ehrmann, a wholesale jeweller, of 8, Hatton Garden—I know the prisoner, he had premises at 1, Piccadilly, as a retail jeweller—he came to Hatton Garden in February, and saw me at different times—I allowed him to have jewellery on sale or return—I had no authority to allow goods to go out on credit, only for cash or on sale or return—on 19th April he came and said that there was a wedding at Mr. Harris's, of Cardiff, who was staying at Endsleigh Place, and he should like to show him some rings, and that Mr. Harris was very rich, and was an oyster merchant—I believed that statement, and let him have three diamond half-hoop rings on sale or return—the price of the three was £71—on May 2nd he called again and said that the rings were not good enough, and asked me to let him have something better on sale or return—I let him have two better rings, price £71, and said, "How about the other rings?"—he said Mr. Harris has retained them—on 26th May he called again, and said that Mr. Harris bad returned from Cardiff, and he should like to show him a diamond necklace, about £300—I told him I would let him have one on sale of return in the afternoon, and he came for it about 4.30—I handed it to him; the price was £262—on June 3rd he came again, and had an interview with Mr. Ehrmann, who instructed me to fetch a necklace from a customer at the West-end, price £376, which I did, and handed it to the prisoner about 4.15 p.m.—I then went away for my holidays till June 20th, and did not see him—on 19th July I saw the ring with which I
had parted on May 26th at Mr. Smith's, a pawnbroker's, in Newgate Street—this is it (produced)—I had no notion that he had pawned the three rings of 19th April, or the two rings of 2nd May on the day he obtained them from me, or that he had pledged the £262 necklace with a watch for £160, or the £375 necklace for £200 the same afternoon, or I should not have let him have the articles in May.
Cross-examined. I am sent out occasionally to deliver jewellery, but not to sell it—I had seen the prisoner on many occasions before this year—this is an extract from the ledger of the whole of the transactions I had with the prisoner; it begins on November 18th, since when he has had large quantities of jewellery on sale or return—he had never had either of these diamond rings before—he started with jewellery, and I began to let him have diamonds on November 25th—from November to Christmas he had about £140 worth of jewellery—this (produced) is our sale or return book—whenever he bought for cash I gave him an invoice, and then it went into the ledger, and I made an entry of the folio in the sale or return book, but never till after he had paid for it—whenever he had articles on sale or return he had one of these sale or return notes (produced), except with the goods of May 9th—he paid nothing to the end of December—at the end of January he had paid £50 19s. is February there were no payments, only three acceptances; one for £20, one for £50, and one for £49 9s. 6d.; one was a three, one six, and one a seven months' bill—in March he paid £42 13s. in cash; he paid nothing in cash in April—there was a cheque for £20 on March 28th, but there were not sufficient funds to meet it—it was not dishonoured, bat my bank sent me notice—I include that in the March account for £42—in May he paid me £42 11s. in cheques—he paid cash before he had a banking account—in June he paid £102 11s. 6d.—I did not have a conversation with him as to what he was going to do with every article he had—he used to say that he showed them to customers, and they had not made up their minds—he never had goods value £500; the necklace of 3rd June was the highest—Mr. Harris was the only customer he named; I did not make inquiries about him—I do not know Mr. Harry Barnett, of Cardiff, who did live at 18, Endsleigh Street—the prisoner is an Austrian, and has been in this country three years—I always spoke to him in German, but he speaks English very well—on 20th June Mr. Ehrmann, Mr. Herbert and I were at 1, Piccadilly; we stayed there some time—we did not ransack the prisoner's shop, but Mr. Ehrmann carried away £600 or £700 worth of jewellery that evening in a hand-bag—I do not know how much Mr. Prackholder carried away—Mr. Wile was not there—Mr. Ehrmann did not take some of Mr. "Wile's goods by accident—I checked the goods next day which Mr. Ehrmann took away; he claimed them as being sent on sale or return—I did not see him take them away; I left the premises at 8 o'clock, and did not see what was in the bag—we did not find anybody else's goods there—when I examined the bag next day they were all my employer's except a few which were returned to the prisoner's assistant when she came to our place, for which this is her receipt—the total value was about £25—on the night of the 20th the cashier handed a telegram to the prisoner's sister-in-law—I asked her to let me look at it—I opened it—I cannot tell you whether it was addressed to Mrs. Wieder—I returned it to the prisoner's sister-in-law—I was sent to meet the prisoner when he came to England, but had no conversation
with him; Mr. Herbert had, who advised him to plead guilty—I do not know whether we should then have stood a better chance of getting the goods—I have been sixteen years in England.
Re-examined. The transactions on sale or return were somewhat numerous—on 25th January the prisoner came for two diamond brooches on sale or return at £74 10s., which I handed to him, and on 27th January a pearl horseshoe brooch and other articles, amounting to £47 10s.; on February 3rd a diamond crescent and pearl brooch, £16, on sale or return; on 3rd March four pins and two rings, with all of which the representation was that he wanted them to show to customers—I have only seen the necklace since—they were all Mr. Ehrmann's property—on 3rd February I supplied him with a diamond crescent bird, and on 9th May with a diamond brooch and a sapphire and diamond ring value £85, all on the same terms—the first acceptance in February was met; the second and third were not paid.
By the COURT. When the first bill came due he was not in this country; when the second came due he was under arrest—I think he was made bankrupt in July before the two bills came due.
BENZION EHRMANN . I am a wholesale jeweller, of 18, Hatton Garden—from February to June this year the prisoner was having goods on sale or return from my premises, with my knowledge and sanction—my assistant, Mr. Frankell, had a good deal of the personal dealings with the prisoner—on 3rd June the prisoner called at my office about 2.30—I had heard that he had had a diamond necklace in May to submit to a customer—he said that the necklace he had for Mr. Harris, of 18, Endsleigh Street, Russell Square, was not good enough, he wanted a better one; that they were very rich people, and money was no object—I said that I had a necklace at the West-end, and if he thought there was a good chance I would send for it—he said that there was a good chance, and I directed Mr. Frankell to get it; it was priced at £375—on June 9th a cheque for £51, which the prisoner had given me, was returned to me marked "N.S."—I telegraphed to the prisoner at Paris, and he came to me on Saturday, 11th June—I asked him for an explanation about the cheque, and where the necklace was, and how he came to go away leaving no entry in his books where he had left the necklace—I had inquired at his shop—he said, "They are all right; they are with Mr. Harris"—I said, "I must have them back to-day for another customer"—He said, "I cannot go to-day, he is very religious; I will get them on Monday"—he came on the Monday, and said, "I can sell the bigger necklace; I can get £500 for it; Mr. Harris wants to pay £100 down, and the rest by monthly instalments; will you give me similar terms?"—I said, "Decidedly not; I must have the cash or the goods"—he said that his father-in-law would give me bills for them—I said, "No; if you will arrange with your father-in-law to give me cash I will accept it"—he said he would call next day (Tuesday), but I believe he did not—I went to his shop on Wednesday, and asked him how it was he had not called the previous day, and where my necklaces were—he said, "They are still under Mr. Harris's consideration, but they have gone away to Ascot races, and won't be back till Friday"—I told him I was very much annoyed and must have my goods—he said that I should hear from him on Friday—he did not come on Friday, and on Saturday I called on him—he said, "I am going there to-night to see the people,
and you shall have them for certain on Monday"—he asked me if I would accept his father-in-law's bills—I said, "No"—he said, "Here is a bill of my father-in-law's for £25; will you take it?"—I said, "I will take it against the other goods, but not against the necklace"—he did not come on the Monday, and I went to his place several times, but could not see him—I went there the last time about six o'clock, and waited there till ten, going away for refreshment only—he did not come—his assistant was there; she is my niece—I asked her to return me the goods which were on sale or return belonging to me, which she did—Mr. Herbert was there—these three rings, pledged on 23rd April at Mr. Attenborough's, and two rings an 2nd May at Mr. Walter's, are mine, and still have my original tickets on them—this necklace (produced) pawned at Mr. Smith's, in Newgate Street, and this necklace, pledged on June 23rd at Mr. Walter's for £200, are mine and have my number on them still—I subsequently saw in the hands of different pawnbrokers the two diamond brooches, value £74 10s., which the prisoner had from my assistant on January 25th—I have not traced the sapphire and diamond ring, but I have seen the pearl horseshoe pin with three diamonds, and the diamond crescent brooch—this (produced) is a list of all I have traced to the pawnbrokers, with the pawnbrokers' names, and the prices I charged.
Cross-examined. I did not go to 1, Piccadilly more than half a dozen times; I saw the prisoner mostly at my office—on May 29th he returned an article value £130, and on May 24th about £330 worth of goods—none of these were pearls—on May 25th he returned something like £305 worth—some of the goods he had came into this book—the first transaction entered here is May 9th, but he had had goods previously—most of them were returned on the evening of 21st June, when I was there—there were any number of them lent out by me prior to May 29th—the wholesale price of the goods pawned is £976—these three rings were invoiced at £71—that is the price to shopkeepers—I have not been paid for any of them—I was not paid some money on the Tuesday at the Union Bank—I never recollect receiving any cash from him, except the £4 which I have explained—there is no ring charged to him in the ledger at £28—the price of the rings coming to £71 is £21, £28, and £23, it would appear in my ledger if it was either charged or paid—it does not appear—my pass-book is here, and my cash-book, which is an exact copy of my bankbook—on May 19th he paid £22 11s., being the balance of £52 11s. I had with him on May 9th for different items—he said that Mr. Harris, of Cardiff, was his brother-in-law, and gave his address 18, Endsleigh Street; I went there and found that Mr. Barnett lived there—the prisoner speaks English fairly well—on June 20th I asked my niece to ret urn me all things which were on sale or return; she gave me some which had been actually sold, and I returned them at once; she had been at the prisoner's shop six weeks—I had not recommended her there, but my bookkeeper had to my knowledge—a copy of my sale or return hook was put in the bag by mistake and returned next day to my niece or to the Official Receiver—no other books were taken away nor any approbation notes; I believe my bookkeeper wanted to verify some dates, and he went and got them—they are here—Mr. Frankell left out £51 which was actually paid—the total he has paid is £270.
Cross-examined. They were three half-hoop brilliant rings; £28 was what he asked for them; I should have advanced more if he had asked for it—he has been to the shop several times and pawned things and redeemed them—he may have had fifteen or twenty transactions with me, all in jewellery—when he first came he told me his name was Wieder, and that he kept a shop just by the Pavilion; I went there and saw as large stock, and snowed me two banking accounts; his name was up, apparently as the proprietor of the shop, and I believed him—he left about £150 unredeemed in my hands when he absconded, the retail value was £170 or £180, therefore they were pledged at the full value—I knew he was a retail jeweller, and must have a profit on them—I should sot have advanced the money if I knew he had got them on sale or return—if the goods are not redeemed within a specified time we have the power to sell, in fact they are not pawnbroking transactions, they are mortgages, and he has a right to his account—he never gave me a cheque which was returned—his first transaction with me was last November, I believe, when he first produced a banking account, or on the 2nd or 3rd; it must have been in March that I saw it.
ROBERT WALTER . I am a pawnbroker, of 51, City Road—on 2nd May the prisoner pledged with me two diamond half-hoop rings for £36 in his own name, and on 3rd June, about four or five p.m. the necklace for £200, which Mr. Ehrmann has identified.
Cross-examined. I knew him—a good many small jewellers are in the habit of pawning things; if I had known they were on sale or return I would not have taken them in pledge.
WILLIAM BATTERSBY . I am manager to Mr. Smith, a pawnbroker, of 80, Newgate Street—on 26th May the prisoner pledged the necklace identified by Mr. Ehrmann, and a watch, for £150—the watch, I believe, has not been identified—it was in the afternoon or evening—I knew him; he pledged in his own name; I did not know that the goods were on sale or return.
JAMES PRACKHOLDER . I am a jeweller, of 91, Hatton Garden—on May 19th I received this telegram from the prisoner, "Customer for diamond necklace, can you send one; wire answer"—acting on that I parted with a diamond necklace, priced by me at £120, to the prisoner, on May 20th—I afterwards asked for its return, and in reply received this telegram: "Good chance, wait to-morrow; if not, return at once"—I had no notice that the prisoner had pledged it to Mr. Bull worthy on May 21st—I saw him on June 1st, and asked him for the return of the necklace—he said he had left it with Mr. Barnett, 8 or 18, Endsleigh Street; that he had had two from Mr. Ehrmann, and he did not think mine would be good enough, but he should be able to tell me in a day or two which one was selected—this is the necklace, but it has been taken out of my case—it has not got my mark on it, but I have no difficulty in identifying it.
Cross-examined. I have had a number of transactions with the prisoner—I called at 1, Piccadilly very often; I used to take jewellery with me, and have sold some to him—I did not press things on him when I called—I keep appro, forms—I gave him a book, and I had a book;
and when I handed him an article it was entered—this is my book (produced)—he had not had this necklace before, and returned it, nor one like it—I never asked him to buy it; he asked me for it—I showed it to him at his shop, not for the purpose of his buying it, but he had a pearl necklace from me some time before, and said, "I will see my customer, and very likely I might sell that too"—I did not suggest any terms for the diamond necklace—I did not agree to take bills from him six weeks afterwards—I did not introduce him to my bankers, and tell him I could discount his bills—I have sold him more than £200 worth of goods on credit, and he has had goods on sale or return—he owes me a balance of about £200 for goods sold on credit—he told me he had the lease of his shop, and they wanted the corner shop, and offered him £500 for the remainder of his lease, and thinking he was doing a legitimate business he induced me to take bills—I received a cheque from him on June 14th for £12 10s., and one on June 15th for £27, but not another on June 16th, 17th, or 18th—the £39 2s. 6d. you are speaking of a little later may have been a bill that was due, but that was paid to my bankers and dishonoured, and he gave me a cheque in the place of it—I have proved against him in his bankruptcy for £190 for goods sold and delivered; that does not include this necklace.
Re-examined. The £190 was for bills which were dishonoured after he absconded—on April 9th he had a pearl necklace, which I find he pledged on April 12th, and a diamond pendant, which he had on June 14th, was pledged with Barnett on June 16th; a single stone ring, which he had on 11th May, was pawned with Mr. Barnett on 12th May; three diamond rings, and a diamond and sapphire brooch, a gipsy ring, and five half-hoop rings, given to him on June 4th, were pledged on June 4th—those were all on sale or return—I gave it to him in writing—this is the common form—on Saturday, 18th June, he told me that he had sold the largest of Mr. Ehrmann's necklaces, and was trying to make terms with him, and all the necklaces were with his customers, a settlement would take place next Monday morning, and he would return my necklace—that was the day he decamped.
By MR. TAYLOR. When I found he had left the premises I asked his assistant for the case of rings which were to have been placed in his window, and I said that immediately one of the rings was sold I was to receive the money, and those goods I took away—the value of them was about £400—I have no doubt they were my goods; I gave a receipt for them.
CHARLES BULLWORTHY . I am a pawnbroker, of 71, Gray's Inn Road—on 21st May the prisoner pledged, in the name of Wieder, the necklace which Mr. Prackholder has identified; the value of it is about £110—I knew him.
RICHARD JACOB HERBERT . I am a jeweller, of 31, Holborn Viaduct—on June 8th the prisoner said he had a necklace of mine, and one, I believe, of Mr. Ehrmann's for £375, and he had asked £500 on it, and thought he should sell it to a gentleman from Cardiff, living somewhere in Endsleigh Street—he asked me for the necklace on my going to his shop—he had a necklace of mine in May, price £220, and he returned it on June 4th—he was going to show it to Mr. Harris, of Cardiff, and I let him have it back—it was not my property—I have had to pay for it—on Monday, June 20th, I went to Piccadilly and saw the prisoner—he
said he had sold some jewellery, and that my necklace was in a safe at his house, and he would let me have it during the day—I said, "I will go with you"—I went to Great Newport Street, and then he made the excuse that he had left his keys behind, and would bring it in the afternoon—I said, "Send for your keys; I will stay here"—afterwards he said he would have the safe broken open—I went to his place that night, and had the things taken away—on May 4th I let him have a turquoise and diamond ring on the same terms, which was pledged on May 20th—on May 27th he had a pearl bar brooch, which was pawned on 8th June—there were other transactions in June which were also pawned, and I have identified them.
Cross-examined. He gave me a cheque and begged me to hold it over, but it was valueless, and I have received no payment in regard to that—I never solicited his custom in a single instance—Mr. Magson, a diamond broker, went to his place of business for me; he is employed by anyone who will pay him commission—I did not ask the prisoner whether he could do with the necklace by putting it in stock; I did not say that it was very cheap, but all our goods are cheap, and it was a particularly cheap article—I did not say that he could pay me for it by monthly instalments, but the reverse, it was to be cash—he had it on 28th May, and returned it on 24th June—he did not have it prior to 28th May, but he had one not so expensive from a different maker—I went to the station to see him when he returned to England, and recommended him to plead guilty, but not with any object of getting my goods back—I was not aware that that would have anything to do with it.
Cross-examined. I knew him—it would be worth £150 in the trade.
SAMUEL HENRY BOSSERBERG . I am a jeweller, of 24, Hatton Garden—on June 20th the prisoner came and asked me whether I had a diamond necklace in stock—I said that I had, but it was out on approbation, and I would get it—he said he had had a necklace from Mr. Ehrmann for £275, the customer Mr. Harris, of Cardiff, had chosen it, but there was some squabble about the terms, as Mr. Harris had offered £100 a month, and he would not take it, and he was going to Mr. Harris, who was very fond of jewellery, and would buy anything, and he asked me for some diamond half-hoop rings, which he saw in my case; he bought four of them, which he gave me a cheque for, and he also had four rings on sale or return—I learned next morning that he had absconded—I paid the cheque in, and it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—I found that the articles which he had on sale or return were pledged at Mr. Walters within half an hour of his obtaining them.
Cross-examined. The cheque was for £43—the articles are entered under different headings in my book, which is here; one is entered in the day-book, and the other in the sale or return book—I had this I.O.U. from the prisoner—all the articles do not appear in this book, only the four articles on sale or return, and I have his signature for them.
Re-examined. His signature is in my copying-book, because it was his first transaction—these are three of the four; I have not been able to trace the fourth—he left my place about five p.m.
RACHEL KAHN . I live at 111, Church Road, Canonbury—on May 23rd I entered the prisoner's employ at his shop, 1, Piccadilly—I was there six weeks, during which time scarcely any business was done—he arrived in the morning at 10.30 or eleven o'clock, and remained about an hour, and then he would go out till about seven p.m.—he used to take goods out, and come back and say he had sold them—he did not tell me he had pawned them—no books were kept in my time—I saw him last on June 20th; he said nothing about going away—two appro books were kept, one was Mr. Hammond's, and the other Mr. Prackholder's—about £1,300 worth of goods were left in the shop when he left; most of them were on sale or return—I gave the things up to my uncle and the other prosecutors on June 30th, and never saw the prisoner afterwards till he was brought back in custody—on June 25th, about one o'clock, a distress for rent was put in, and the Receiver in Bankruptcy came in directly afterwards.
Cross-examined. When I went into the prisoner's employ I marked his stock off from the appro, book—I did nothing with the other things—I had a jeweller's stall at the German Exhibition two years ago—when I sold anything I handed the money to the prisoner; I wished to get a book to enter them, but he would not let me—I think I sold about £14 worth in the six weeks; I could keep small accounts in my head; there were two watches, a clock, and a few imitation brooches—the price of the gold watch was £4 10s.—the price of the clock was 30s.; I sold that after 20th June, while the Receiver was there—I had not got a book at that time; as I received the money I handed it to the Receiver—the gold watch was not sold while he was there; the other was a silver second-hand One marked £2. 2s., but he let him have it for £2—my uncle received about £600 worth of goods from me; he and Mr. Prackholder got about £1,000 worth, and about £200 worth were left—I did not sleep there; it was a lock-up shop—I was able to lock it up when I had the key—the landlord came in first—the servant pointed to the bed, and I found the pawntickets there—I was acting for the prisoner then, and when I saw that he did no business I told my uncle, as he had hundreds of pounds there—I saw Mr. Frankell about once a fortnight, when he brought goods—I did not tell him anything; I was not going to betray my employers business—I was not in my uncle's employ, and I never saw him till the 20th.
Re-examined. The General Election was on then, and he said, "Well, if I dont do any business inside, I do it outside"—these (produced) are some of the Pawn tickets I found, but I am not quite sure about these.
SIDNEY BARNETT . My brother Harry lived at 18, Endsleigh Street in May and June, and I may have been there once or twice at that time—He dabbles a little in the stocks, and discounts a few bills—he is not an oyster merchant of Cardiff, but he lived there two years ago—I know no Mr. Harris, an oyster merchant, at 18, Endsleigh Street.
Cross-examined. My brother would be correctly described as Mr. Harry Barnett, of Cardiff—he is not here—I do not know whether he ever had any dealings with the prisoner; I only saw the prisoner at my brother's office, Southampton Street, Holborn—you would do no injustice to my
brother to speak of him as Mr. Harry Barnett, carrying on business in Southampton Street.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Month's Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, October 21st, 1892.
MESSRS. C.F. GILL and MALLINSON Prosecuted, and MR. BLACKWELL.
WILLIAM COLLINS . I am a warehouseman, in the City—on Saturday, 20th September, I went to Messrs. Russell and Co.'s offices in Newgate Street and ordered two and a half tons of coal—I paid £2 8s. 6d., and took this receipt—I noticed the clerk did not enter the order in the order-book, which was on the counter—I had done business with him before—in consequence of what I noticed I asked if he had the address down correctly, because it is generally entered—he said, "Yes, that is all right."
Cross-examined. I have dealt with the man a dozen times or more—I saw him write the order on a slip of paper—I saw a book, I cannot say it was the current order-book.
CHARLES FREDERICK WHITE . I am employed by Messrs. Crocker, Sons and Co., Friday Street—on 22nd September I called at Messrs. Russell's office and paid the prisoner £1 19s.—I got this receipt. (These receipts were on the billheads of "Russell and Co.," and signed "A. Villiers George,"this one being for kitchen cobbles)
WILLIAM JUPPS . I am employed by the prosecutor at Belmont Wharf—on 25th September I was in die office when the prisoner came from Newgate Street about six p.m., his usual time—he handed me a piece of paper, which I initialled—he handed me another piece of paper—these are the papers (Both contained: "Grossmith, Sons and Co., cheque £2 12s.)—they are duplicates—one is filed at the office; the other was returned to the prisoner—that was done in this case—when I initialled the paper I returned it to him; it simply had on it the words, "Cheque, £2 12s."—"Crocker, £1 19s.," and "Collins, £2 8s. 6d." has been added to his paper.
Cross-examined. The two papers are identical, except the addition—one has a date on, the other not—the prisoner was alone in Newgate Street from, I think, eight a.m. till six p.m.—I know nothing of the clerical work—the cashier was at his tea, and I was relieved—I am foreman of the horses—one clerk was ill—I said at the Police-court to the best of my belief they were my initials, but I would not swear; but I swear to-day they are mine—the prisoner's father questioned me in the presence of Mr. Bills—I did not suggest in the presence of Mr. Bills and the prisoner's father that the initials were not mine—I do not recollect it—I hardly know what the prisoner's father did say, I was in such a
state when I saw what had been done—I do not remember admitting after pressure by the prisoner's father that the initials were mine—I said then the amounts had been added—it mattered because I was responsible for the money; I had a cheque and no cash from the prisoner—possibly at a later period of the conversation I said the initials were mine—I recollect calling the prisoner a scamp—I do not recollect saying the amounts were added after I initialled the paper—the prisoner did not hand me two documents, one with the cheque and the other with the amount of cash.
Re-examined. I never received the added amounts—I never gave a receipt for them—I handed the paper and money I received to the cashier, and saw it entered—the uninitialled paper was filed at the Belmont Wharf—I was shown both papers for the purpose of comparision at the conversation with the prisoner's father—that is not why I say the added figures were not on the paper I initialled—I remember the amount paid me by the prisoner so well, it being the only transaction he ever had with me—the two papers the prisoner brought me are parts of one originally.
THOMAS BILLS . I am one of the firm of Russell and Co.—the prisoner came to us as clerk on 29th August—he was first at the wharf and afterwards at Newgate Street—his duties were to receive orders and cash, to enter the orders in the order-book, and the cash received in the cashbook, and at the end of the day to take the orders and cash to the cashier, with two memorandums of the money paid in, one of which was filed, the other be initialled and took back to Newgate Street—Mr. Collins' order is not in the order-book, nor is the receipt of £2 8s. 6d. in the cash book; nor is there any entry of £1 19s. received from Messrs. Crocker, nor their order; nor of Mr. Sells' order, nor of the receipt of 19s. from him—on 28th September I wrote the prisoner's father, whom I afterwards saw with the prisoner at the wharf, with regard to the £2 8s. 6d.—I had discharged the prisoner the previous day—the prisoner said, "Here is the receipt for the money," producing the ticket which should have been filed at Newgate Street—I compared it with the one filed at Belmont Street—I formed an opinion, and said, "These amounts have been added"—the prisoner said, "There is another paper; I brought down three papers"—I said the paper ought not to have been in his possession, but at Newgate Street—the prisoner and his father left when I said I would consider the matter—I discovered the omission of the 19s.—I gave the prisoner into custody the following Tuesday—I know the prisoner's writing; the receipts are his writing.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is seventeen years of age—he was employed by the Fuller's Earth Company, Limited—I had a letter from his employer; it gave him an excellent character for six years—the prisoner's attendance was from eight to six, without going out—it was a branch office—on 27th I found a stranger in the office in the middle of the day; the prisoner was not there—in consequence of that I dismissed him—the boy in possession is a son of my tenant upstairs, but I know nothing about him—I telegraphed at once for a relief clerk—I sent to the prisoner that night that his services were no longer required—I have his letter to say he could not come back that day—he sent it to Newgate Street. (Letter read of 27th September, 1892, from the prisoner to Russell and Co., to say he would not be back
that day, as his mother teas dangerously ill, but he would be there in the morning)—I saw him at Newgate Street in the morning, about 11.30, and dismissed him—I understood he went there at 8.30—I said he had no business there, because his dismissal was by telegram the previous day—it was the prisoner's duty to take the cash-book to the Belmont office every Saturday, but not the order-book—we have five or six branch offices—Blythe, a cashier at Belmont Wharf, was away ill on 23rd and 24th September—I never told the prisoner to take the books to the Belmont Wharf—I look through the books of all the offices—the cashbook may not sometimes be returned to the prisoner till the Tuesday night—not later—it was never kept till Wednesday—the illness of the cashier would increase the other clerk's work inappreciably—the prisoner would enter at Belmont Wharf, on the Monday and Tuesday, the amounts he had taken in the day for his own safety—I show you one instance on the 26th (Small cash-book produced): "Grossmith and Co., £2 12s.," a cheque received on 23rd—according to his voucher it ought to be £4 7s. 6d. more—the cash would not be entered for Mondays and Tuesdays only on that day—that entry ought to had been made on the Friday—we have two cashiers—one was present on 23rd—Jupp said at first, "I think, I am not quite sure, they are my initials"—Jupp's state of mind did not strike me as curious, seeing he was charged with stealing £5—Jupp denied receiving another paper—he denied receiving the money.
WILLIAM HENRY BLYTHE . I am employed by the prosecutor—on 20th September I made an entry in this pocket-book of £5 12s. 3d., which I received from the prisoner—"W. B." on one of these papers produced are my initials—the prisoner had it—I filed the duplicate—there was no entry of £2 8s. 6d. received from Collins that day—no money was received from the prisoner that day—Gold win or I would be in the office.
Cross-examined. I was ill on 23rd and 24th September—there was no omission of my duty those days—the order-book was never taken to Belmont Wharf—I cannot say if the cash-book was delayed to the Wednesday—it usually went back to Newgate Street on Monday night; sometimes it was delayed to Tuesday—I do not know that the prisoner entered the amounts received by him on slips of paper—the prisoner took the cash-book from the wharf to enter the amounts at Newgate Street—when he came on Monday night, the 20th, he did enter a cheque from Grossmith; not from any document.
DANIEL DENNING (City Dectective). The prisoner was given into custody by Mr. Bills, charged with stealing 19s.—he said, "I remember receiving the 19s.; I put it in the desk in the office in Newgate Street; I was discharged by Mr. Bills on account of going home to see my mother; she was ill, and I did not see the money after."
Cross-examined. I believe the prisoner has borne a good character.
The JURY recommended him to mercy on account of his youth and previous good character.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
The evidence, verdict, and sentence were interpreted to the prisoner.
ERNEST EDWARD POPE . I am fourteen years old—I live at 24, Lawrence Lane—on Tuesday, 27th September, about four o'clock, I went in the prisoner's shop at Lambeth Hill, a confectioner's—I bought an ice-cream in a glass—when I had eaten the ice-cream I put the glass on the counter, and it overbalanced and fell off the counter—as I turned to go out he flung a knife at me, which hit me here (left thigh)—the knife fell on the ground—the prisoner came round the counter and picked it up—when I got out I found I was bleeding—I went to Mr. McClure's shop, and afterwards to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where my wound was attended to by a doctor—my leg was bound up at McClure's.
MOSES WILLIAMS (423 City). I was called into McClure's shop, an engraver's, on Tuesday, 27th September—it is about fifteen yards from the prisoner's shop in Lambeth Hill—the boy was bleeding from a wound in the left knee—McClure and I stopped the bleeding, and bandaged it—I then went with the boy to the prisoner's shop, when he pointed the prisoner out to me—I said to the prisoner (he did not seem to understand), "You have stabbed this boy; where is the knife?"—he said, "No knife"—I took him to Cloak Lane Station—I found this knife on the mantelpiece—there is no other ice-cream shop in the neighbourhood.
EDWARD POPE (Re-examined). The constable showed me a knife—it was not the knife the prisoner threw at me, which was a pearl-handle pocket-knife—I was shown a black-handle knife with a little blade—no one else was in the shop.
RICHARD WEST . I am house-surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—Pope was brought to me on 27th September—I examined and found an incised wound on the outside of his thigh, four inches above the knee, one inch long, and half inch deep—it might have been caused by throwing a knife—it was not dangerous—I bandaged it—he has not been to me since.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not stab any boy at all in the shop; I know nothing about it."
Prisoner's Defence. I did not see the boy, and was surprised when the police came. They searched the place; there was no knife about. No one else was in the shop.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
ROBERT PHILLIPS . I am an engine-driver at a steam printer's, of 14, Baxendale Street, Bethnal Green—I had not known the prisoner before 10th October—between nine and ten that night I was walking along the Bethnal Green Road with Arthur Collins—I turned round on feeling something sharp shoved into my buttock—I then saw the prisoner—I said to Collins, "I am stabbed; claim that man; I am going to the doctor's"—I was bleeding terribly—it was near Abbey Street—I went to a doctor's about twenty or thirty yards on the other side—he dressed
my wound—I saw the prisoner draw his hand back sharp—he was the worse for drink when I afterwards saw him at the Commercial Street Police-station from the way he talked—I have been able to work three or four days.
ARTHUR COLLINS . I am a cabinet-maker, of 47, Lynedock Street, Kingsland Road—I was walking with the prosecutor near Abbey Street—I saw the prisoner come to his side and strike him—I did not we what with—Phillips said, "I am stabbed," and I heard a voice say, Young man, your friend is stabbed"—I detained the prisoner, who was taken to the station and searched.
FRANK, HALL . I live at Pryser Street, Bethnal Green—I found this knife outside Hattemore's wire place last Monday week (10th) between nine and ten, when I was coining from work, opposite Abbey Street—I gave it to Wittbridge.
ALFRED WITTBRIDGE (491 J). I found the prisoner detained by Collins about twenty yards from Hattemore's shop—he said, I did not do it"—Collins said, "This man has stabbed the other; he has got a knife somewhere"—I searched him, but could find no knife—I took him to the station—Hall afterwards brought me this knife—I showed it to the doctor—the prisoner was under the influence of drink—he talked coherently, and walked straight to the station.
PATRICK QUINLIVIN . I am a surgeon, of 254, Bethnal Green Road—the prosecutor was brought to me—I examined him—I found a clean incised wound a quarter of an inch long, half an inch deep, on the right buttock, corresponding to which there was a cut in his trousers—the wound was not dangerous—he will soon get about—he has been to work—the wound might have been caused by this knife, and by a blow such as described—I found no stains on the knife.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty the charge." In defence he said he was quite innocent.
NOT GUILTY .
947. MICHAEL DONOGHUE (60) , Unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, from Ellen Ballard, an envelope and security for the payment of £3 0s. 10d., with intent to defraud. Second Count, Obtaining from John Woollard £3 0s. 10d. with a like intent.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
JOHN FINCH . I was living at Campbell's lodging-house, Vere Street, Drury Lane—I am an army pensioner—on 4th October I was entitled to £3 0s. 10d., my quarter's pension—that would be sent from my district at Belfast, by my direction, to 11, Swallow Street, a place which receives letters, as I had no permanent place of abode—the prisoner took me three—had known him casually for two or there months—I called for my letter on 4th October—it was gone—I never authorised anyone to fetch it, nor to cash the P.O.O. for my pension—on 3rd October—I was in the infirmary—I believe the prisoner is an old soldier—there are my pension papers (produced)—this is not my signature to this P.O.O.—I ought to be identified—this is the form for the next time—I had filled up one.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You filled in my pension papers for me—I did not authorise you to get the money.
Regent Street—I have known the prisoner a few months from having his letters addressed to my shop—he introduced Finch, and asked me to take charge of his pension papers and any letters that came—on 3rd October a letter came addressed to Finch—the prisoner called and said Finch was in the infirmary, too ill to come out, and I was to give him the letter to take to him—I gave it to him—he had had something to drink.
JOHN WOOLLARD . I am clerk in charge of the post-office at Burlington House—on 3rd October the prisoner brought this postal order for £3 0s. 10d., and this certificate of identity—the pension is due in December—it is paid in advance—he laid the certificate of identity on the counter and asked for the money; I told him it was beyond our usual time for paying orders, four o'clock, as it was half-past; he said he was entitled to the money, and wanted it, and asked what was to pay him for his loss of time, so I paid him, and he signed the order in my presence—his description on the certificate escaped my notice—I believed he was the person entitled to receive the money.
WALTER CUNNINGHAM (Defective C). I went to Campbell's lodging-house in Vere Street on October 5th—I found the prisoner in bed—I told him I should arrest him for obtaining a post letter by fraud; and further, with forging the signature of John Finch, thereby obtaining £3 0s. 10d. from the post-office at Burlington House—I cautioned him—he said, "Well, I did it; I must put up with it; the papers you want you will find on me"—on the way to the station he gave me these papers (Finch's identity certificate and blank form)—at the station he said he had no money, and was in drink.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I done it through the effects of drink and thorough servitude in looking for work. I served in the Crimea, India, and Australia, and am a pensioner myself. I was badly advised by another man, who was also in drink, and I could not withstand the temptation I served twenty-two years and fourteen days."
The prisoner handed in a written statement to the above effect, and that he had been a teetotaler, but some one put gin in his ginger beer, and then told him he had broken the pledge, and in consequence of his skull receiving a fracture at Sebastopol, drink affected his head.
GUILTY.—The JURY strongly recommended him to mercy — Three Months' Hard Labour.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, October 22nd, 1892.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
949. THOMAS PEATT WILLS (74) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, on 31st December, 1880, and on various other days between that day and October, 1891, the sum of £16,112 14s. 2d., being clerk and servant to the Portsea Island Building Society.— Judgment respited.
DAVID DANIEL (571 M). At a quarter past seven in the evening of 12th September I was on duty in Tewkesbury Road, Seven Sisters Road, Holloway—there was a disturbance there, and a crowd collected of about 100 or 150—I was endeavouring to disperse them; while doing so I saw the prisoner driving a pony in a two-wheeled cart coming up Tewkesbury Road from Morton Road; his wife and two or three children were with him in the cart; he was driving about nine miles an hour—I did not notice whether he was using his whip—he was on his right side of the road—seeing him approaching, I put up my hand, at the same time calling to him to stop; I heard other persons calling out the same—he did not stop till he had passed through the crowd; the people were all across the road—I saw him knock down a lad, who was in the centre of the road, by the near wheel—I put up my hand and called to the prisoner to stop a second time; I ran after him and stopped him after he had proceeded about fifty yards; I caught the horse by the head—I told him that he had knocked down a child, and I wanted his name and address—he commenced swearing at me—he said I was a b——fool, and not worthy of standing in my uniform, and that the clothes I had on were his, and he challenged me to fight—I should say he had been drinking; he smelt very strongly of liquor—after a while he gave me his name and address, and I allowed him to drive away—later in the evening, about nine, I went to his house, 8, Tewkesbury Road—I told him I should take him to the station, and charge him with killing the child by knocking him down with his cart—he said, "I am very sorry that it occurred; I will go with you"—he was then perfectly sober.
By the COURT. The deceased was a little fellow only six years old, and could not get out of the way as quickly as the others—it was dark, and the street was badly lit with lamps; there are no shops, all private houses—there was no traffic in the street—the prisoner was about fifty yards from the crowd when I first called out.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. There was plenty of room for you to pass—I did not see the child run out into the road; he was walking back, looking at the crowd—I called to him, "Get out of the way," but the horse was upon him before I could rescue him—you had the reins tight in your hand—I think the pony took fright at the crowd; you did your best to stop it.
The JURY here interposed, and found the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted, and MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and LAWSON Defended Sullivan, and MESSRS. KEITH FRITH and ROACH Defended Lockhart.
club door, and turned my eyes to the left, and saw two men fighting; one was Anderson, and the other was May, the deceased—they had two rounds, and May fell twice—May was a bigger man than Anderson, and he fell on him twice—May got up and ran away; two men, whom I could not identify, ran after him; one of them caught May by his left shoulder from behind, and threw him down forwards on his stomach—he got up, and then another man struck him a blow between his nose and upper lip, which knocked him down, and he fell backwards on his head on the kerbstone—three men were close to him then, Anderson was one; Anderson did not strike that last blow, I cannot say who it was, but it was one of the two men; it was not the man who had thrown him down, that man was dragging Anderson away at the time—Anderson seemed inclined to fight again, but he never went near the man again—I ran to May's assistance, and picked him up by the armpits—the three men ran away—May was bleeding from the nostril—a policeman came up then and sent me for an ambulance.
ISRAEL BAWS . I am a cabinet-maker, of Buxton Street—on this Sunday, 4th September, I saw May and a man who is not here, fighting in Buxton Street—they had four rounds, and fell twice, and the last time he got up May ran—one of three men, who were together when they were fighting, ran after him—I followed behind—he ran about fifty yards before I reached him; I found him lying on the pavement, and I stood beside him and helped to put him on the ambulance, and he was taken to the hospital—I could not see the faces of the men who ran after May, one went first and a second one followed; neither of those were Anderson—I could not see what the men did—when I got up Anderson was lying on the ground, and the others were gone.
FREDERICK CRICK . I am a farrier, living in Buxton Street—on this Sunday I heard a disturbance in Buxton Street, and when I got up I saw May thrown to the ground by Sullivan, by his foot and shoulder—May did not get up again till the police picked him up, and put him on the ambulance—I was not so far from May when he fell as I am from you—I should think there were about twenty or thirty men and women there—May fell on to the back of his head.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I saw Anderson there—I did not see a man pulling or shoving Anderson away—I did not see a man give May a shove which made him fall on his stomach—I came from the corner of Spital Street—I first saw May running—there was not much of a crowd—the twenty people had collected when I came up; I could not say if there were twenty, I did not count them.
Cross-examined by MR. KEITH FRITH. I did not see a blow struck; I was near enough to see a blow if a blow had been struck—I did not see the earlier part of the fight—I was at the place at the time.
ELI CAUNTER (Detective Sergeant H). About a quarter to one p.m. on 6th September I arrested Sullivan in Spitalfields Market, and said to him, "You will be charged with other men not in custody with assaulting and causing the death of a man unknown in Buxton Street on the 4th instant"—he said, "Have you got the others?"—I said, "No; you know them?"—he said. "Yes, one man's name is Anderson, and the other man's name is Lockhart; Anderson had a fight with the man, and the man ran away; Lockhart ran after him, knocked him down, and he never got up no more"—I took him to Commercial Street Police-station
—Pearce brought Lockhart there the same day, and he was taken into the room Sullivan was in—Sullivan said, pointing to Lockhart, and in his hearing, "That is the man that knocked the man down," referring to the deceased man—he said, "You know you did it, don't you?"—Lockhart said to Sullivan, "Yes; and you knocked the man down"—Sullivan said, "Yes, and I fell on top of him"—afterwards the two men were placed among others—Shipton was brought in, but was unable to identify either prisoner—afterwards Anderson was taken, charged, and dismissed.
Cross-examined by MR. KEITH FRITH. Bail was taken for Lockhart—I know that what Sullivan said is not evidence against Lockhart, but it is against Sullivan.
WILLIAM PEARCE (Police Constable). I arrested Lockhart on the 6th September, about half-past four—I told him I should take him to Commercial Street station for violently assaulting a man unknown on Sunday night in Buxton Street—he said, "I do not know anything about it; I see a bit of a row there"—on the way to the station he said, "Is it anything serious?"—I told him the man was dead—he said, "Have you got anyone else?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Who is it? is it Sullivan?"—I said, "Yes.
ELIZABETH SPRINGHALL . I live at New North Road, and am the cousin of May, the deceased—he was a drayman in the service of Truman and Co., the brewers, and was about twenty-two years old—all this day I had been in his company, and in the evening I went with him to his sister's at Hampstead—we got back to the neighbourhood of the Angel, at Islington, about twenty minutes past ten at night—he lived at Bethnal Green—he left me outside the Angel, to take the tram to Old Street—I saw no more of him.
JOHN MORTON COLLINS . I was house-surgeon at the London Hospital—May was brought there between twelve and one a.m. on 5th—he was unconscious; he had a wound at the back of his head, and was bleeding from that and also from his nose—he smelt a little of drink—he died on the evening of the 5th—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination, and found the skull was fractured at the back; there was a linear fracture running from the foramen magna—the brain was bruised in the forepart—the cause of death was pressure on the brain from the effusion of blood caused by the fracture—that injury might be caused by a fall on to the kerb caused by a blow—there was a bruising on the man's nose and mouth.
Cross-examined by MR. GROGHEGAN. He was a tall, well-built, powerful man.
Cross-examined by MR. KEITH FRITH. In a hypothetical case such a fracture would not be certain to cause immediate unconsciousness, and there would be nothing to prevent his getting up and being knocked down again, death resulting from the first blow; but it is improbable that the first blow, if it caused such injuries as these, would not have stunned him—the bruise on the front of the skull would be caused by the brain being forced forwards.
MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS considered it was not worth while going on with the case as to Sullivan.
NOT GUILTY .
LOCKHART— GUILTY .
Recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of his youth— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SIMMONS Prosecuted.
Edmund Blake produced a plan of the locality, and copy plan.
WILLIAM JAMES ANGLIS . I am a labourer, of 13, Archer Road, Fulham—on Saturday, 3rd September, I was in the North End Road, about 9.40—I saw a hansom cab coming from the Lillie Bridge towards Walham Green—it would pass by a blank wall of the South Middlesex Volunteers, after which the road widens, and some stalls stand on the left hand, the near side—the cab was on the wall side—I saw two men and two females in the cab—they were drunk—I was going down the middle of the road, towards Lillie Bridge—the cab was coming towards me very fast—the horse was galloping—I saw the shafts of the cab strike a man in the chest; he fell, and the cab passed over him—I picked the man up—the cab stopped; I helped to place the man in the cab, and went with him to the hospital—the prisoner drove the cab—on the way to the hospital the cab ran into a truck in the North End Road, and very near got into another hansom at the corner of the North End Road—the prisoner was not sober—at the hospital he got down from his box—the people in the cab got out and ran away.
Cross-examined. The man was standing near the kerb when he was knocked down—he had finished selling watercresses.
CHARLES CLEVERLY (229 T). On 3rd September I was on duty in the North End Road—I saw a crowd—I went to ascertain the cause, and found Anglis and the deceased, Watson, in the cab—Watson was groaning—the prisoner was on the dickey—by my direction the cab was driven to the West London Hospital—I went in the cab—nearing Hammersmith Bridge (near the North End Road), it came into collision with another hansom, and a barrow driven by a boy—the deceased was taken to the hospital—I asked the prisoner to get off the dickey—when he got down I saw he was drunk—he was rough in his speech and could not stand properly; he was rolling about—I took him into custody—I charged him with being drunk during his employment, and causing actual bodily harm to George Watson—he said, "I halloaed and shouted as loud as I could, but could not pull up quick enough"—I took him to the station; he made no reply to the charge—I saw the deceased examined; his deposition was taken—the prisoner was present, and had an opportunity of cross-examining him—Mr. Curtis-Bennett took the deposition.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were not standing on the kerb when I came up—I did not pinch your arm—you touched the oft side wheel of a hansom, and bounced off on to the truck—no damage was done.
CLARA MARTIN . I am the wife of Robert Charles Martin, of the fish shop at 205, North End Road, Fulham, the first house next the wall of the Volunteer headquarters—the road widens there—on 3rd September I was standing in the doorway when I saw the cab come by—the horse was galloping furiously—I knew the deceased, Watson, from his standing a little way up the road selling watercresses—the cabman was lashing the horse as hard as he could—four people were in the cab—Watson was walking in the gutter in front of my shop when the cab
knocked him down and ran over him; I saw the cab go up and come down when the man was underneath—somebody in the crowd stopped the cab about three shops beyond ours—I heard the prisoner say, "A bleeding fine thing I have done now."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The whip was in your hand, not in the socket.
By the JURY. A number of stalls stand outside these houses.
ELLEN HUGHES . I am a charwoman, of Ivy House, Lillie Road, Fulham—I was in the North End Road on Saturday, September 3rd, about 9.30 p.m.—I saw a cab start from the Crown public-house and come up from Walham Green to Mrs. Martin's shop, when the poor old man was knocked down—[at this stage MR. LAWLESS said he had but just been instructed to defend the prisoner]—the cab was going very fast—I did not hear shouting till afterwards—I saw the people in the cab.
Cross-examined. The Crown is about eighty yards off—there is a kind of market, but the road was not so busy as it is generally.
GEORGE GUDE . I live at Lands Road, Notting Hill—I, was standing opposite Martin's shop on 3rd September, between nine and ten p.m.—I saw a cab being driven very fast—the horsed head touched the deceased's head; he put his hand up, and the shaft knocked him down—he was run over—I heard a little shouting just as the accident happened—the deceased was walking about one and a half yards from the stalls, which are near the kerb.
Cross-examined. The deceased was walking in the road in the direction the cab was going—he was a little hard of hearing—the pavement is wood.
ARTHUR DUNVILLE HUMPHREY . I am house-surgeon at the West London Hospital—Watson was brought to me on 3rd September, about ten p.m.—he was suffering from fractured ribs—he lived to the 7th—after death I found he had the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth and ninth ribs broken, and the ninth fractured on the right side—death was caused by bronchitis, accelerated by fracture of the ribs.
GEORGE NORMAN (Inspector T). I took the charge at the station on 3rd September—the prisoner made no reply to the charge, which was being drunk during his employment as a hackney carriage driver, and further with causing actual bodily harm to the deceased Watson—I made the charge of manslaughter at the Police-court on the 12th—he made no reply—when brought in on 3rd September he was drunk.
Cross-examined. He did not seem excited; he seemed stupid—he was driven nearly a mile after the accident.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was; "I am not guilty."
MR. SIMMONS tendered the deposition of the deceased. MR. LAWLESS objected, and referred to Regina v. Chubb, in Crown Cases Reserved. The COURT held it was not admissible.
Evidence for the Defence.
EDWARD SWAIN . I am a horsekeeper, of 14, Wootton Street, Lambeth—I was in the North End Road on 3rd September—I had not known the prisoner—I saw him driving along the North End Road towards Walham Green, at the rate of between five and six miles an hour—he shouted as loud as he could to avoid an accident; the deceased was knocked over, and the defendant pulled up in the length of the cab and horse—the deceased was walking in the roadway in front of the cab—I flaw him
twenty yards in front—others were in the road—when the prisoner shouted they got out of the way—people were in the cab—they got out—the old man was then put in the cab and driven off.
Cross-examined. The deceased appeared to be an old man, rather stout—he was not decrepit—the prisoner had not the whip in his hand—I was standing on the kerb, and walking about after I had done my work—I do not live near—I work for Mr. Rivetts, in the Star Road, about a quarter of a mile off, in a cabyard—I first spoke about this when it came up in conversation a day or two afterwards with a coachman named John Forder—I saw the man knocked down—I saw him taken in the cab—I got hold of the horse's head—I did not say then I had seen the accident—I did not think it was necessary—I was not called at the Police-court; I came voluntarily to-day—the defendant's friend communicated with me about a week ago for the first time—I had not seen the defendant before—I have not since—they knew of me through Forder—Forder asked me what I knew of it, and I said all I could say is what I have said to you—I saw the man coming along the road, and it was not his fault, in my estimation; I think he did the best to avoid the accident—more than two were in the cab—I would not swear how many—the prisoner was about twenty yards from the deceased when he shouted, "Hi! hi!"—in the wide portion of the road there is room for four vehicles—there were only some barrows in the road alongside the kerb.
Re-examined. There is a market on Saturday night—there is great difficulty in driving through—I saw the whip in the socket—I noticed it because he was not using it—I made no note of it.
HENRY GILBY . I am a horsekeeper, of 46, Avenue Road, Fulham—I was in the North End Road on Saturday night, 3rd September—I saw the prisoner driving—I had not known him—I was about thirty yards from the accident—he was driving along the near side at between five and six miles an hour—the road was crowded—it was not possible to gallop there—he shouted—when the man was knocked down and the cab stopped I ran across the road—before the man was knocked down I heard the prisoner shouting all down the road, when he got in the crowd, not before.
Cross-examined. There is no market near the wall of the Volunteer headquarters—people were walking on the path there, and up and down the road—it was difficult to drive—the horse's action was a canter—I did not see the whip—I first gave information about this on the Monday week after the accident to Mr. Hanson, the solicitor at the Police-court—he did not ask me to give evidence—he acted for the defendant.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Five Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, October 22nd, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
953. JAMES NOBLE, Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Morris Friedberg, and stealing sixty Neutra skins, his property.Second Count, for larceny as a servant. Third Count, Feloniously receiving.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
MORRIS FRIEDBERG . I am a furrier, of 12 and 13, Aldersgate Street, and have one partner—the prisoner was in our employ fourteen days before October 10th, on which day I was going to business about 8.30, and saw a man going into a public-house with a bundle of skins under his arm—I went to my office, only about thirty yards oft, and to my stockroom on the second floor—the door was wide open, and the door from the office also—no one had any business to open the door—there are two keys, one for my partner and one for myself, but I missed mine after the prisoner came into our employ—I did not miss anything then; I went back to the public-house where I saw the man going in, and saw the prisoner drinking in the bar, and these three bundles of Neutra skins, twenty in each bundle (produced), lying by him—they are water animals, something like a seal—they are worth three shillings each—I said, "Is that you, Mr. Noble?"—he said, "Yes," and finished his glass, and was going away—I said, "You can't go till you have given an explanation of having those skins, to a constable"—he left the skins and went into the Saracen's Head, and I gave him in charge—they have a card-mark on them—this (produced) is the key I missed.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see the face of the man I saw going in; the door was almost shutting.
FREDERICK WHITTAKER . I am a porter, at 130, Longwoods Buildings, Commercial Street—on Tuesday morning, October 11th, I found this key at the Saracen's Head, in a crevice between the partition and the bar—I gave it to Webber.
CHARLES WEBBER (924 City). The prosecutor gave the prisoner into my custody on the morning of 10th October, in Commercial Street, close to the Saracen's Head—I charged him—he said he had not been there; he was on his way—when he was charged at the station he said he met a chamber master; that is a man who does work out of doors; who asked him where he was working, and said he could give him a better job, and said, "Mind these for me while I go outside"—nothing was found on him relating to the charge—Whittaker brought me this key the next morning.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence, said that he had not been to work, but was on his way, and that no charge had ever been made against him before.
GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. P. TAYLOR Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
JOSEPH EASTON STANLEY . I live at 192, Beresford Street, Walworth—up to March last I was a private in the Seaforth Highlanders, and had been so seven years—I discharged myself—I had saved about £100 while in the Army, and was waiting for an investment for it—I saw an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph of March 11th. (This was from Coleman and Co., of 161, Strand, advertising a stationery and newsagent's
business for sale.)—I wrote to the prisoner, and afterwards called on him at Newcastle House, Strand, and discussed the advertisement with him—he said that the business was a fair going concern, and had been long established, and was realising £5 a week after all expenses were paid—I then went to Mr. Easton, the solicitor, and instructed him to make inquiries; my share of the business was to be half—he said he wanted the money quickly, as there were a few debts he had to pay—I said, "Are there any judgments or lawsuits or anything of that kind against you?"—he said, "None whatever"—after that I executed the deed on April 1st, and advanced him £50, as he had to discharge some debts before he could sign the declaration—I paid the remaining £50 on the day the partnership deed was signed—I had not then seen the statutory declaration—I was supposed to have equal authority with him, but I found my authority was completely ignored; his family were interfering, and running in and out of the shop; it said in the deed that the family should leave about April 15th, but they did not leave for five or six weeks afterwards—I received £2 10s. the first week, and £10 10s. altogether—I told him I was being treated very unfairly, and that he had robbed me of my money—he laughed at me, and treated me with ridicule—the profits as he showed them did not amount to £5 a week, but he used to take the money out of the till and put it into his pocket, and told me how much was taken and how much was spent—after the first week I had to wait two weeks, and then I got £3—I left about July—a cheque for £25 was sent to Messrs. Gtatti, in consequence of an accident to one of the carts, and I received £5 off £30 which I had advanced at Mr. Pitt's request—he gave me this receipt at the time; the date of it is April 1st, but it ought to have been May 1st—I cannot give you the date of receiving the £5—the prisoner threatened me several times, and called me a fool—he is very hasty in his temper, and he threatened to knock me down, and came round the counter to me—I became anxious to dispose of the business, and mentioned it to him, and went to an agent—the prisoner said it business was worth £400 or £500—I was anxious to get my money back, as I had nothing to keep me—I offered the business to Mr. Richards; he said that he knew nothing about it; I said, "You had better become a partner"—I paid in £180 altogether, and made a further advance of £15 for a horse for the business—two or three days after I was there a broker came in, and I paid him £2 to go out, but the prisoner paid me back—I have not got a penny now.
Cross-examined. I had taken my discharge from the Army when I saw the advertisement, and was in charge of the Temperance Society of the regiment—I draw sixpence per day—Mr. Easton, the solicitor, is not a relative of mine, he is the family solicitor—the prisoner knew that I was consulting a solicitor—his clerk came and assisted—he reported the result of his inquiries to me, and I was satisfied with his report—I never bought a horse in my life, or a gun through the Exchange and Mart—I know that when one man has something to sell, and another wishes to buy, there is exaggeration—I have been in India seven years—I knew that this had been a going business for thirteen years, and had a goodwill attached to it, but I had nothing to do with the goodwill—I said before the Magistrate, "I was in the shop at different times; the takings were, to
my knowledge, about £30 a week," but the wholesale part of it has no profit whatever; £15 worth of papers were sold at wholesale prices; you buy at 3/4 d., and have to pay 1d.—my golden dreams about £5 a week have not been realised—I found out about six weeks afterwards that I had been swindled—it was not a bogus business; it was a valuable one, with money to carry it out—I offered to take £50 for my share; it I got £500 that would be £250 for my share—this book (produced) has my writing in it according to Mr. Pitt's dictation—I do not think the profits were £5 a week, but I never saw the money—this book was not got up for the purpose of selling the business—Mr. Pitt said, "We have no accounts," and he suggested, as I am a better writer than he is, that he should make an account, and I should keep it—I never showed the book to Mr. Whatley; I know him as the agent—I told him the returns were about £2,000 a year—the prisoner has robbed me of my money—the profits were not shown to me, and no banking account was kept—for aught I know the profits may have been £5 a week—this book was not to my knowledge shown to Mr. Richards and Mr. Whatley—the book was to show that I had been longer a partner in the firm; Mr. Pitt suggested it, and when I found he was putting things down that were not right I stopped it—the weekly expenses were about £30; I know that from what he told me to put down in the book—I was not a member of the firm in 1890 or 1891, but the entries were in the name of Pitt, Stanley, and Co., at Mr. Pitt's suggestion, for the purpose of showing the profits of the business to any intending purchaser, and I threw the pen on the table, and said I would have nothing more to do with it—that was in June, not later—I made up the book in Pitt's office, at his dictation—I never made entries in any book away from the office—I have observed that in this book, which extends over a year, the profits come to over £5 a week, and sometimes £17, and £9 8s., £8 5s., £8 19s., £16 8s.; those are weekly reports, I wrote all that myself—this postcard is my writing, "Dear Sir—July 12th—I am hard at work making up the book, and will have it completed by to-morrow morning"—that was a book I was making up for me and Mr. Pitt from some papers he had relating to the late G.O. Wellington's works; it does not refer to the book which has been put before the Court—I have since found that there was a judgment debt against the prisoner for £100, on November 22nd, 1890; no step has been taken to enforce it, the plaintiffs in that action are bankrupt—I do not know that Sir Gilbert Campbell and others were plaintiffs in that action—there was also a County-court debt registered against the prisoner, so he told my solicitor—before I signed the partnership deed I was protected at every step by a solicitor—statements have not been made to Mr. Drew complaining of the way I conducted the business—I did not have sunstroke in India—I do not know Miss Rose Elliott—it was hardly the business of a newsagent to kiss young ladies who came to the shop for newspapers—it is not true that I have kissed anybody who came to the shop for newspapers, the whole family have tried to blacken my character—(Miss Elliott wan here called, and was only a little child)—I have never taken civil proceedings against the prisoner for dissolution of partnership, because I had no money; my solicitor advised me to take proceedings.
Re-examined. I believed the prisoner's statement apart from what my solicitor told me, and I did not part with the £50 till he had signed the statutory declaration—he said that my solicitor was very strict, and would not allow me to enter the business—I wrote to Mr. Pitt—he said he was not the landlord, but he would get a letter from the landlord certifying that we should not be disturbed or turned out of our place so long as we paid the rent, but it turned out afterwards that the prisoner was the landlord.
Re-examined. I said at the Police-court, "The expenses shown by the books were more than the takings"; a book was kept in my writing on some mornings, and in the prisoner's on other mornings—he has never made any statement to me as to the amount of profit—when I complained he said that trade was very bad, and there were a number of outstanding debts owing—the book, which I wrote at his dictation, relates to two previous years when I was not in London—he was speaking from memory when he dictated it, but he had a paper in his hand, and an old ledger before him—I believed the declaration saying that there were no unsatisfied judgments against him; if I had not I would not have advanced him any money—he made that statement to me before the declaration was made.
JAMES GRAHAM LEMON . I am a solicitor, of Temple Chambers—I acted for the plaintiff in the action of Graham v. Pitt—Sir Gilbert Campbell had nothing to do with it—I produce an office copy of the judgment, it is for £100 and £45 18s. costs, obtained on June 22nd, 1890—it was still unsatisfied in April, 1892, and in September I served the defendant with a bankruptcy notice—I wrote to him after that.
Cross-examined. Messrs. Lambert and Co. were plaintiffs in the libel action, the complaint was about the manner in which "Beecham's Annual "had been published—Messrs. Lewens and Lambert were the publishers; they were the only members of the firm—they became bankrupt, but before that notice was served on the prisoner—no further proceedings were taken to make him a bankrupt—as far as I was concerned the judgment against him on 22nd June, 1890, was allowed to lapse.
Re-examined. My clerk had told me that it was useless to proceed.
ARTHUR ALBERT JACKSON . I am managing clerk to Mr. Easton, of 124, Walworth Road—I had the custody of the partnership matter between the plaintiff and Mr. Pitt, who signed the statutory declaration at the office and swore it before Mr. Page—he said that the profits would allow of a payment of £2 10s. each per week—Mr. Stanley employed me to draw up the deed of partnership, and in the course of the proceedings it came out that Mr. Pitt had a lease—I was not instructed to inquire as to his precuniary position, I got that from Mr. Stanley.
Cross-examined. I left it to Mr. Stanley to make inquiries; he appeared to thoroughly understand his position, but he is not a thorough business man.
EDWIN DREW . I am an elocutionist, of 50, Oxford Street—I became acquainted with the prosecutor about the end of March through the prisoner, who I have known many years—I had many interviews with them; and after the arrangements were complete I saw Pitt, who said that things were very bad indeed, and Stanley corroborated it—Pitt seemed to think that Stanley was utterly unfitted for the business, and that they had much better separate, as he was perfectly useless and essentially a lunatic; and he gave hints concerning immorality, and said that he kept away from the business; that the money had been useful, and Stanley was now in the way, and he wished to come to an arrangement, and it would be better for him to be out of the business.
ARTHUR HAILSTONE . On September 30th I lived at 30, Newcastle Street, Strand—I received a warrant, met Mr. Pitt, and said, "I have a warrant for your arrest, for obtaining £100 from a man named Stanley, by fraud"—he said, "I have been expecting you, for Stanley wrote me a letter saying so"—I said, "The information also charges you with perjury and larceny"—he said, "Perjury? I don't see where that comes in"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined. I did not tell him that the perjury was in the sworn declaration—I have known him about seven years as a respectable newsagent—I have known the business in Newcastle Street for the same time.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Six Weeks' Imprisonment.
955. JOHN SMITH (18) and HARRY LENNARD (30) PLEADED GUILTY to being found by night with implements of housebreaking in their possession, Lennard having been convicted at this Court on 27th May, 1889, in the name of Henry Fisher. LENNARD— Five Years' Penal Servitude. SMITE— Three Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, October 22nd, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
956. JOHN FEATHERSTONE (29) , Stealing two bags and ninety-eight share certificates, and nine other share certificates, the property of Samuel Plimsoll, from his dwelling-house. Second Count, Receiving.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
JOHN ROBERT KEMP . I am divisional surgeon of the C Division—Inspector William Stroud is suffering from acute pneumonia—I saw him last night—he is in a very critical condition—he is unfit to attend here to give evidence.
HARRIET PLIMSOLL . I am the wife of Samuel Plimsoll, of 28, Park Lane—the bonds produced are my husband's property—those in the Sheepbridge Coal and Iron Company are of the value of about £800—they were with other bonds worth about £600 more in a bag in the dining-room at Park Lane—I last saw them safe on 30th May, when we left Folkestone for London—we brought them to London, and put them in the bag in the dining-room in Park Lane—we missed them about 20th June.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I said the other papers in the bag were of no value except to Mr. Plimsoll.
under the directions of Inspector Stroud—I was present and heard his evidence at the Police-court—the prisoner had an opportunity of cross-examining—I saw Stroud sign his deposition—I know his writing—this is his signature (Deposition of William Stroud, of C Division, read as follows: "About the beginning of August ultimo, information reached the police that a Gladstone bag, containing bonds and other articles, had been stolen from 28, Park Lane, the property of Mr. Samuel Plimsoll. From what I heard I kept observation last night, with other officers, in the Haymarket. About eleven o'clock I saw three men drive up in a cab to a public-house. The prisoners were two of the men. The men went into the public-house, and after a short time the prisoners came out and walked down the Haymarket. Amos, with a fourth man whom I had not seen before, went into the Cafe de l'Europe. In a few moments I saw Featherstone outside the cafe. I said to him, 'I am an inspector of police, and am going to arrest you on suspicion of being concerned in stealing, on 1st June, from 28, Park Lane, two bags.' I gave directions to Sergeant Shaddock and McDowell, and in consequence Amos was then brought to me. I repeated the charge in the hearing of both prisoners. Featherstone said, 'I have got no stolen property, and I was not in London in June.' Amos said, 'I do not know anything about any robbery; I am a dealer.' They were taken to Vine Street Police-station, where I saw Featherstone searched by Sergeant Bolter. In his under-coat pocket were twenty shares of the Sheepbridge Coal and Iron Company, of £25 each; twenty-five shares of the same company, of £10 each; and one share of £10 in the Round Wood Colliery Company; also several pawntickets, a counterfeit five shilling-piece, and other small articles. On Amos were forty-six pawntickets and other articles. I said to Featherstone, 'These bonds correspond with the description of those stolen from 28, Park Lane; how do you account for their possession?' He said, 'I was going to sell them for a man that passed you in the Haymarket; I was not in London in June,' and (turning to Amos), 'Let this man go; he knows nothing about it; he is only out with me.' They were then charged. Amos said in reply, 'I know nothing about any robbery. You know me very well, Mr. Stroud.' Featherstone said nothing further. Cross-examined by Featherstone: You may have said he bought the bonds. I had no reason to arrest the other man who was with the prisoners. Recalled: It was not the 1st June; I said the 31st June to the prisoners. There is about £600 worth of bonds still missing. The value of those produced is £800. Cross-examined: I do not think Featherstone said, 'I was going to sell them to a man that passed you in the Haymarket. He may have said 'to,' but I think he said 'for'")—these are the bonds mentioned in the deposition—I was present at the arrest, and confirm the inspector's account of what took place—the value of the bonds found on the prisoner is about £800, of the total lost £2,500.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was: "I bought those bonds from a man on 12th July in a public-house called The Round House, in Wardour Street. The man said they were no good, and he was going to burn them, and I gave him half a sovereign for them. I have since found out the two men that stole those bonds while I have been in prison. One man is in prison for stealing a watch; he had just come out from doing five years. The other man is at liberty. I have told
Detective Stroud where he lives. The last man is the man who I bought them from, the man whose address I have given to the detective. He came out of prison, after five years, the same day, or within a day or two of the other, I cannot say exactly. I went into the country on 13th June, and have only been twice in London up to the 13th September."
In defence the prisoner repeated in effect this statement, and said: "Since I have been in prison I came across the man William Stevens, 20, Union Street, Tottenham Court Road. Stroud has been to see him, and he told Stroud he did not sell them, but he is the man. The other man is in Pentonville or somewhere. Stroud knows he stole a lady's watch," and stated he bought them quite innocently, not knowing anything about them, of the men who were lighting their pipes with them, and said they were valuable. He had no idea they were stolen, and thought he might sell them.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. C.F. GILL Prosecuted.
After the case was opened the prisoner desired to PLEAD GUILTY, and the JURY, after hearing his confession, returned a verdict of
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday October 24th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted, and MR. WOODFALL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, October 24th, 1892.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
WILLIAM EDWARD PINDER . I am secretary to the Waterbury Watch Sales Company, Snow Hill—I advertised in April for a traveller in the watch trade, for Scotland, and got a reply from Samuel Gane Harper, of Milverton Villa, New Barnet, which was handed to the managing director, and has been lost—it was answered, and the prisoner said that he travelled for Ransoms, of Birmingham, and gave me Mr. Hansom's address, Kistor House, Torquay, who he said had retired
from the firm—I wrote to Mr. Ransom for his character, and received this reply. (Stating that the prisoner was a man of sterling integrity.)—I afterwards saw the prisoner again, and told him it would be necessary to have a guarantee, and gave him a form of the Guarantee Society, which he took away, and returned a few days afterwards, and said that he did not wish the smallness of his salary to be made public, which it might be if he applied to the Guarantee Society, but he would give us a private guarantee, if that would do, and suggested Mr. Ransom, of Torquay—I gave him a form for Mr. Ransom to execute, and received this letter. (Enclosing a guarantee for £300)—I believed that was genuine, and gave him sixty-five watches as samples, worth about £128—these are the terms under which he entered the employment. (£5 a week and expenses; to be terminated by three weeks' notice. Signed, "Samuel Gane Harper")—I also gave him £10 in cash for his travelling expenses—I had a few orders from him in June, but when I wrote there was very often a delay in his replies—it was his duty to write daily to the firm; we supplied him with forms to fill up every night, but he often let four or five days elapse—on 27th June I wrote him this letter. (Enclosing £6, giving him two weeks' notice to terminate the engagement, and requesting him to return to London at once.)—I received letters from him on June 30th, July 1st, August 6th, and August 8th, offering excuses, and on August 8th I wrote him this letter. (Stating that unless the samples were returned by Friday next, proceedings would be taken against Mr. Ransom, his guarantee, and that he was not entitled to salary after July, and enclosing an expenses book)—on 6th September I received this letter. (Stating that Mr. Ransom was in Madeira, and therefore he would leave the matter in the hands of his solicitor, and entrust the samples to him, and requesting payment of the amount due to him)—I wrote to Mr. Ransom at Torquay, but got no reply; also to Mr. Mann, the owner of Kistor House, Torquay—I gave instructions to Chamberlain, of the Private Inquiry Office, and went with one of his men, and Mr. Ransom to Youngman's Farm, Pinner, where I saw the prisoner and a lady coming along the road—Mr. Chamberlain's man said, "How do you do, Mr. Kean?"—they shook hands, and Mr. Ransom and I stepped forward—Mr. Ransom spoke to the prisoner, and his face became very red, so that he was uncertain whether he was the man; I lit a match and looked in his face, and identified him at once as Harper—he spoke with a foreign accent, as a German might do—that was not the way he was in the habit of speaking—he was taken to the station, and charged with stealing the watches; he was wearing a watch, which he admitted was one of them—he was taken to Snow Hill Station, and said that the watches were in the hands of his solicitor in Scotland, who held them as security for a debt—he has never mentioned the name or address of his solicitor—he had £42 from me in May and June, and I sent him other sums for expenses—he sent an account of his expenses to us weekly, and we sent him what he asked for for pushing our trade.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You returned every one of the statements, with reasons why the accounts were not paid—you had to call on customers who owed us money; that part of the duty was faithfully discharged—you did not write to me every night, or, if not, send a telegram next day—I was never without your address—you did some business for us—you shook hands with a complete stranger who came out of a lane.
Re-examined. Staunton said that he had brought two gentlemen to buy his hay.
HENRY RANKIN . I am managing director of the Waterbury Watch Company—in consequence of our advertisement the prisoner came to Snow Hill, and represented that he had been a traveller for a Birmingham firm, and that Mr. Ransom was one of the partners—he signed this document, by which he entered the employment on May 30th, and was only in the employment till June 27th—these letters, P and M, are in the same writing as the letter we first received in answer to the advertisement. (One of these was from Milverton Villa, New Barnet, stating that Mr. Carberry regretted to say that his partner had absconded, leaving him in temporary embarrassment, and it would not be well for the family to be there, so he had closed the house; the other was from Kistor House, Torquay, signed R.J. Ransom, to Mr. Miller, of Uxbridge, stating that Mr. R.T. Kean had been a tenant of his at Ledbury for nine years, and his rent was regularly paid.)
Cross-examined. You did not say that you should require £500—there was no discussion about commission—I did not say it would be impossible under six months to say what you were worth.
GEORGE CORDING . I carry on business in waterproof goods, at 125. Regent Street—I am the owner of Milverton Villa, New Barnet—the prisoner introduced himself to me in March as an independent gentle man, and gave his name, Eustace Frederick Carberry, of Hatherly, near Cheltenham, and referred me to Mr. J. J. Ransom, of Kistor House. Torquay—I wrote there and got this answer. (Stating that Mr. Carberry had been a tenant of his, and was thoroughly respectable)—I let him have the house, and he executed the agreement in the name of Eustace Carberry—he took possession just before March 25th—he never paid any rent—I took proceedings in the Queen's Bench for ejectment—it was a quarterly tenancy at £90 a year—while he was there I received this letter from him. (The one stating that his partner had absconded)—also this letter. (Stating that matters would not be settled for a fortnight, and that he was still in the North looking after matters relating to his partner.)—also this (Hoping to see the witness about the middle of the next week.)
Cross-examined. You said you had been living on your means in Somersetshire, and that you came to London to join a new partner.
WILLIAM WOOD . I am a butcher, of New Barnet—I knew the prisoner living at Milverton Villa in the name of Carberry—he wrote me this letter on 9th June: "Mr. Carberry regrets to inform Mr. Wood that his partner has absconded, leaving him in temporary embarrassment. On his return to town he will have the pleasure of calling on Mr. Wood"—he never called—I do not know when he left—he what we called "moonshined."
Cross-examined. Your goods went away in the night—my man called at your house several times.
JOHN MANN . I keep a boarding-house, Kistor House, Torquay—I never saw the prisoner till he was in custody—on 4th March I received this letter. (Sting that he required rooms for Mrs. Ransom and himself, inquiring the terms, stating that Mrs. Ransom was unable to travel in very severe weather, and requesting that any letters might be forwarded)—I also received this letter. (Stating that Mr. Ransom had had a bereavement in his family, which had upset all his plans, and that he was going to the North of Ireland, and
requesting that any letters might be sent to the Lake Hotel, Killarney.)—I forwarded his letters; he never came.
Cross-examined. Intending visitors are frequently delayed.
THOMAS WILLIAM LIGHTFOOT . I am a cigar maker—I know the prisoner by the name of Ransom; I have received letters for him, which I gave to him or Mrs. Ransom—on August 28th I received this letter: "Sir,—If you have any letters for me, kindly put them in an envelope and send them to me at Funchal, Madeira. I enclose stamps, postage 2 1/2 d.—J. T. RANSOM"—I received a letter with the name of the secretary of the Waterbury Watch Company on it, and sent it to Madeira.
Cross-examined. You asked for letters to be received in the name of Ransom and you called and said, "Have you any letters for me?"—I said, "What name?"—you said, "Ransom"—I am positive you said "For me"—I did not know you till then—I handed them to you.
GEORGE HALE . I am a carman, of 41, Upper Marylebone Street—I received instructions from the prisoner to remove some goods in the name of King—he said that there was no rent owing, and he did not want the neighbours to know where he was going—my van arrived on June 6th, at nine p.m., but we did not begin to take out the things till twelve—it was a cross-country journey, and took twelve hours—the place was beyond Pinner, about ten miles, and we had rather a heavy load—a woman named King went with the vans.
Cross-examined. I arrived there at night, but the horses were put into a stable—we drove out about six a.m., and one of the horses fell down, we had a difficulty with that horse throughout the journey—there were two good horses and one indifferent—I cannot say whether the police were told that I was not to begin loading till twelve o'clock, which I did—it was the height of summer; we continued loading all night, and it took us till nearly six a.m.—a police-inspector came and took the name of the van, but I did not inform the police—it did not forcibly strike me that it was done to evade a distress or payment of rent.
Cross-examined. There were two vans—unless we had started in the morning we could not have got there in six hours; New Barnet is ten miles from London.
WILLIAM PERCY SEBORN WILLS . I am a salesman, of Uxbridge—I had to do with letting Youngman's Farm in May—the prisoner introduced himself to me as B. V. Kean, and referred me to Ransom, of Kistor House, Torquay—I wrote to him, and got this answer: Sir,—"Absence from home prevented my answering your note yesterday," and giving him a good character—he had possession till he was arrested, as far as I know—I received this letter from him.
Cross-examined. My rent has been paid up to Michaelmas—I have heard from a Mr. Ransom since, but not in reply to any letter of mine.
Cross-examined. Documents A I and M are given me as your genuine writing, and B C and D are the same writing as your letter.
FREDERICK STAUNTON . I was engaged in making inquiries in this case, and traced the prisoner to Youngman's Farm, passing in the name of Kean—I arranged the meeting when he was stopped, and went up and shook hands with him—when the match was held to his face he ran
away—I ran after him, and addressed him as Harper—he said, "Not me; what am I charged with?" and then the Inspector came up.
Cross-examined. I mean solemnly to say that you ran away—you shook hands with me.
Re-examined. I said, "Mr. Kean, these gentlemen have come to buy your hay."
DANIEL DENNING (City Detective Sergeant). On September 5th I brought the prisoner from Snow Hill to Guildhall, and on the way he said, "I did not think Mr. Rankin would have been so hard on me, I can return the watches in a few days; I left them with my solicitor in Glasgow, he holds them as security for money owing to me by the Watorbury Watch Company, and I shall not give them up till they pay me"—he also said that the solicitor was away for a few days—I asked him the solicitor's name; he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I did not say, "You can depend upon me, if you will make me a confident in this matter; it will be altogether better"—you did not say that they were in the hands of a friend, who was going to give them to his solicitor.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he looked upon it as a six months' engagement, and had spent all his energy in extending the business; that he had a claim against the company for six months' salary, and the watches would not be equal in value to that in a forced sale; that he had spent the £10, and the other amounts which he was charged with, in travelling expenses, and he denied writing the letters which Mr. Inglis stated were his.
GUILTY .— Judgment respited.
The COURT disallowed the expenses of the witness Hale.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, October 25th, 1892.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
Monday, October 17th.
962. THOMAS NEILL (38) , Indicted for, and charged on the Coroners Inquisition with, the wilful murder of Matilda Clover . The ATTORNEY-GENERAL ( SIR CHARLES RUSSELL , Q.C.), the HON. BERNARD COLERIDGE, MESSRS. SUTTON and C.F. GILL Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN, WARBURTON, LUXMORE DREW, and SCRATTON Defended.
EDWARD LEVI . I am a licensed victualler, living at the Sir Walter Raleigh, New Street, Gravel Lane, Houndsditch—in 1880 and 1881 I was in Chicago, America, and I knew the prisoner very well; he was a practising physician there at that time—I knew him by the name of Thomas Neill Cream.
October a Dr. Neill came to the hotel, and he is marked off on the 7th as leaving.
JAMES AITCHISON . I am an optician, at 47, Fleet Street—on 9th October, 1891, the prisoner came to me, and I examined his eyes—he said he came from America—I found his left eye very much more defective than his right; it turned inwards towards the nose, giving him a decided squint—he ordered two pairs of spectacles, which were supplied to him on 17th October—I saw him again in April this year.
ELIZABETH MASTERS . In October, 1891, I was living at Orient Buildings, which face into the Hercules Road—turning out of Orient Buildings, and to the left, you come to the Lambeth Road—I had three rooms on the second floor—in the next rooms to me lived Elizabeth May—early in that month I met the prisoner at Ludgate Circus—he asked me to have a glass of wine; we went to the King Lud—from there he accompanied me to Orient Buildings—it was on a Tuesday, I think; it was a very wet night—from Orient Buildings we went to Gatti's Music-hall—I there met Elizabeth May; I had promised to meet her before I went—I introduced her to the prisoner—the prisoner had on a dark macintosh and a square-topped felt hat—he told me at the music-hall he came from abroad to claim some property—I cannot recollect if he said what he was—he said in his younger days he was a student at St. Thomas's Hospital—he showed me a photograph of his mother, and one of himself—he said he was staying at a hotel in Fleet Street—he took off his hat—I think he had glasses on at the time; I noticed a peculiar look in his eyes, and that he had a squint—he, May, and I went from the music-hall together to Ludgate Circus—before we left the music-hall I gave him my address, and I expected to see him again, because he told me he would write again when he got settled in different apartments—when he left me he said he was going back to his hotel—that happened on the Tuesday—on the following Friday I received a letter, which I destroyed about three months afterwards—in the letter he told me he was going to call that day between three and five, and that I was not to be so cross as I was on the Tuesday night—I knew it was from him, because I did not expect a letter from anyone else, and because he told me it was from the gentleman I went to the music-hall with—the letter said I was not to destroy it, but to keep it till he called, as he should expect to see it again that afternoon—I told May I expected him. and showed her the letter—when the time came, between three and five, I and May were sitting at the window, looking out into the street for this gentleman to come, and on the same side of the street as our house I saw Matilda Clover come, carrying a basket, and wearing a white apron with shoulder-straps, and a hat—she was going towards the Lambeth Road—I did not know her to speak to, but I had noticed her pass the house three or four times, and knew her by appearance—I did not know her name—No. 27, Lambeth Road is tenor thirty yards from us, I should think, round the corner—this is a photograph of the woman I saw that day; I have no doubt about it—I noticed the prisoner following her, and I saw her turn round and smile at him—I put on my hat and asked May to do the same, and we followed to the corner to see where he went—I stood at the corner and saw Clover stand at the door of No. 27, where she lived, with the bundle in her hand, looking towards the prisoner who
followed her, came up to the door, followed Clover into the house, and then the door was shut—I waited there quite half an hour; he did not come out—I then went away, and did not see him again till I saw him at the Police-court; May told me she saw him again—on the occasion I saw him following Clover he had on a silk hat and dark clothes—I remember hearing afterwards that Clover had died from delirium tremens—I think the prisoner put his glasses on in the music-hall.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner from October, 1891, till 17th June, 1892, eight months—Inspector Tunbridge asked me to go to the Bow Street Police-station to identify a man—he said he heard I had been to the music-hall with a man who I had seen go with the woman Clover—when I went to Bow Street I expected to find at the court the man I had seen going by—I saw a number of men in the corridor or passage—I was called in by someone to look at them after I had been about ten minutes at the station—all the persons had their hats on—I walked up and down once or twice, and had a good look at them, and I failed to identify anyone—I could not tell you now many men there were—I could not say if there was a police constable among or close to them—I don't know if a gaoler was there; I don't know who was there—I do not know that spoke to Tunbridge—I left the room, and then I believe May was called in, after me—I was then in another room—when she came out Tunbridge called me in again—I don't know who was there, or whether they were the same number, or whether they were the same persons—their hats were off—I was called to identify the man I had seen passing the house with a silk hat on—I identified the prisoner with his hat off as the man I had seen at Gatti's Music-hall—going from Orient Buildings there is a public-house on the right-hand side, where the Hercules Road comes into the Lambeth Road—I stood in my doorway and watched, not at a public-house door—I could not see 27, Lambeth Road from my door; I followed to the corner of Hercules Road, and then stood at the corner; 27, Lambeth Road was on the opposite side of the road, some way down—27, Lambeth Road is the same side as the Masons' Arms—when I saw the man following the girl in Hercules Road they were both on the same side of the road as our buildings—our window is on the second floor; it was shut—all I got was a glimpse of them as they went by, and then I went to the top of the steps and watched them—May was told to go to the police-station at the same time that I was, and we rode there together—we both knew we were going there to identify the man—we mentioned the matter as we went there; I did not ask her what the man was like—she seemed to know better than I, really; I think she knew better than I did—at the music-hall she was sitting there, and I asked her and Neill to come and have a drink—during the greater part of the performance I aid the prisoner were sitting apart from May—the prisoner was my friend, and had nothing to do with May.
Re-examined. I noticed that the postmark on the letter I got was Lambeth—when I went in to the identification there were a number of persons with hats on—I walked up and down, and did not recognise the prisoner—on the second occasion I went in the persons' hats were off, and I then had no difficulty in recognising the prisoner—I and May followed Clover and the prisoner to the corner, where we stood till they went into the house and the door was closed; after that I walked up to the door into which they had gone, and saw the number, 27, on it.
ELIZABETH MAY . In October last year I was living in the same building as and in the next room to Masters in the Orient Buildings—I recollect one night at the end of September, or in October, being at Gatti's Music-hall—I saw Masters there in the prisoner's company—I spoke to them at the bar—afterwards we all three went together ins cab to Ludgate Hill, and had a drink at the King Lud—the prisoner was wearing a hard felt hat with a square top—a few days afterwards Masters told me something about a letter, which she showed me, and which I read—I knew she was expecting a letter, because I heard the prisoner say he would write in a day or two—I don't remember what was in the letter, except that it was signed with two initials—it said he would call on Friday afternoon—on the evening of the day the letter came Masters and I were at the window watching for the gentleman to call, when we saw Clover pass, wearing a white apron with straps, and carrying a basket in her hand—I did not know her name, but she passed the house daily, and I recognised her as a person I had seen before—this is a photograph of the girl I saw pass—the prisoner was folio wing her, I have no doubt of that—the girl turned round and smiled—Masters and I put on our hats and followed them to the corner of Hercules Road and the Lambeth Road—Clover was still going down Lambeth Road, and the man still following her—she stopped at the door, the prisoner went up to it; they both went in—I accompanied Masters up to see what the number was; it was No. 27—I knew Clover lived at 27 by seeing her go into that house before—I and Masters waited there for over half an hour—no one came out, and we came home——on the second occasion that I saw the prisoner he had on a silk hat and dark suit—as far as I remember he had no beard, but only a moustache—I cannot remember whether I saw the prisoner once or twice after that before I saw him at Bow Street, but I saw him passing my house, going towards Lambeth Road—I may have seen him twice after Gatti's—I am positive I saw him passing towards the Lambeth Road—on that third occasion he had a silk hat on—I went with Masters to see whether I could identify the prisoner at Bow Street—I was shown a number of persons wearing their hats; I recognised the prisoner with his hat on—I do not know that I saw him afterwards there with his hat off—soon after the occasion on which I and Masters followed Clover and the prisoner I heard Clover was dead.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I had a drink with Masters and the prisoner at the bar, and then they went away again to look at the performance, and left me—he was with Masters, not with me—I was with them again before the performance was over; we had another drink, and then I left the hall with them, and we took a cab—I saw the prisoner at the Coroner's Court, sitting in a part of the Court between two warders; I was not brought there to identify him—I heard him speak; I could not remember his voice again; it did not recall him to me—when I saw the prisoner and Clover he was on the same side of the way as the window in Orient Buildings which I and Masters looked from—we were both at the window and had the same opportunity of seeing—I picked out the prisoner at Bow Street from 16 to 20 persons, I think—I was waiting for ten minutes before I was brought into the room where the persons were—when I saw the prisoner there he had a few days' growth of beard
—I knew I was looking at a man who had not been able to go to the barber's or shave himself—it was not sufficient to hide him from me—as far as I can remember there were no other unshaven or unshorn people among them—I cannot say if all the rest looked respectable—I did not notice if they all had top hats—I did not see some of them whispering and chattering—I did not see a gaoler there; I cannot recollect if there was a policeman—Tunbridge asked me to pick out the man who had been in Gatti's Music-hall, and I went in and picked out Neill; that is all that took place—I did not know Ellen Donworth—I read or heard about her falling down dead—I did not take any note of whether it caused a sensation.
Re-examined. I had an opportunity of seeing the prisoner at the music-hall, at the King Lud, and passing our house—I saw he had cross eyes, a squint.
By the COURT. I first met him at Gatti's and had a drink with him, and then he and Masters went to look at the performance—we had another drink with him before we left Gatti's—I, he and Masters went from Gatti's in a Hansom cab back to Ludgate Hill—at Bow Street Tunbridge asked me to step inside and see if I could recognise the man I saw at Gatti's—that was all he said—after that I went and looked at the men, and recognised the prisoner—that is all that took place.
WILLIAM HENRY BROADBENT , M.D. I practised at 34, Seymour Street, Portman Square, on 30th November, 1891, when I received this letter by post—the letter is dated 28th November; the postmark on the envelope is "30th November, London, W."—on the postage stamp is the mark "S.E."
Cross-examined. I gave this letter to the police immediately I received it on 30th November. (The letter teas read in the opening speech. It was as follows:—"London, November 26th, 1891.—Dr. W. H. Broadbent.—Sir,—Miss Clover, who until a short time ago lived at 27, Lambeth Road, S.E., died at the above address on the 20th October (last month) through being poisoned by strychnine. After her death a search of her effects was made, and evidence was found which showed that you not only gave her the medicine which caused her death, but that you had been hired for the purpose of poisoning her. This evidence is in the hands of one of our detectives, who will give the evidence either to you or to the police authorities for the sum of £2,500 (two thousand five hundred pounds) sterling. You can have the evidence for £2,500, and in that way save yourself from ruin. If the matter is disposed of to the police it will of course be made public by being placed in the papers, and ruin you for ever. You know well enough that an accusation of that sort will ruin you for ever. Now, sir, if you want the evidence for £2,500 just put a personal in the Daily Chronicle, saying that you will pay Malone £2,500 for his services, and I will send a party to settle this matter. If you do not want the evidence, of course it will be turned over to the police at once and published, and your ruin will surely follow. Think well before you decide on this matter. It is just this—£2,500 sterling on the one hand, and ruin, shame, and disgrace on the other. Answer by personal on the first page of the Daily Chronicle any time next week. I am not humbugging you. I have evidence strong enough to ruin you for ever.—M. MALONE.")
Tuesday, October 18th.
the district, it is correct—I have made twelve copies of it—it is to the scale of four and a quarter inches to 300 yards from measurement; it is a compass of about two miles, or one square mile.
Croat-examined. I see on the plan the main entrance to Waterloo Station—opposite to it are the Wellington and the Lord Hill public-houses—going down Waterloo Road on the left-hand side you come to Morpeth Place, and at the corner of the Waterloo Road and Morpeth I'lace is the Artisans' Dining-room and Coffee-house—I am stationed at Walworth, and the district was strange to me till I went to make the plan—it is about a minute's walk from the Lord Hill public-house to Morpeth Place—I do not know if Ellen Donworth came from the Lord Hill and fell down dead—from where the New Cut intersects the Waterloo Road, near the centre of the plan, it would take fully a quarter of an hour to walk to the Lord Hill, 118, Stamford Street, and the Masons' Arms—I could do it in a quarter of an hour easily.
JOHN GEORGE KIRKBY . I am assistant to Mr. Priest, a chemist, of 22, Parliament Street—at the beginning of October, 1891, and before 12th October, the prisoner came into that shop—he said he was a medical student, at St. Thomas's, and gave his name as Thomas Neill—he told me he was attending a course of lectures at St. Thomas's Hospital—he asked me for some nux vomica, and that being a schedule poison, I asked him for his name and address, and gave him a piece of paper, and he wrote this order: "One ounce, 10 to 20 drops diluted with water," and "sulphate of quinine," and signed it "Thomas Neill, M. D., 103, Lambeth Palace Road"—I supplied him with the nux vomica—a day or two afterwards the prisoner asked for some empty gelatine capsules—I told him we did not keep them in stock—he asked us to get them for him—on the same day Mr. Priest gave me this order, dated 12th October, to go to Maw, Son, and Thompson, wholesale chemists, to get a box of capsules—I got a box of 100 12-grain capsules there that same day—the next day Neill came to the shop, and I showed him the capsules—he looked at them and said they were too large, he wanted some about half the size—I afterwards went again to Maw, Son, and Thompson and changed the capsules, and got a box of No. 5 capsules, which were a little less than half the size—the prisoner did not say what he wanted the capsules for—they are used for putting powders and solids into, in order as far as possible to render the medicine tasteless—a day or two afterwards the prisoner came and I gave him the capsules in a box similar to this—this is a capsule similar to those I gave him—after that the prisoner came to Priest's shop on different occasions up to the following January—I supplied him from time to time with nux vomica in quantities of from one to four ounces—the last time I supplied him with it was on 20th December, I see by the order; upon each occasion I took from him a written order; this one and the first one I had from him are the only orders I have been able to find—we do not register them; it is not necessary; it comes under the second schedule, and so long as it is labelled poison, with the name and address of the seller, it is quite sufficient.
Cross-examined. Before 20th October I had never sold to Neill more than one ounce of nux vomica—the nux vomica I sold him was the British Pharmacopoeia strength, half grain of strychnine to one ounce of nux vomica—nux vomica contains brucine—the capsules are American—they
are not used for taking castor oil or sandal wood oil—sandal wood oil is sold in flexible capsules—all you want in a capsule is that it shall melt—if oil were put into one of these it would not be tasteless—all these are used for are for pills, powders, and solids—they are not commonly used by medical men in London—we have different kinds of capsules prescribed—sometimes we prescribe these—English people prefer English capsules and foreigners prefer foreign ones—I asked the prisoner whether he was a medical man—I looked through the register—I did not find his name there—I am not in the habit of selling poisons to persons whose names I cannot find in the register—on 20th December, when the prisoner gave me his last order, I sold him four, ounces—he dealt with me for other matters besides nux vomica and the capsules—he used to buy an ounce, I think, of opium, not always once a week, but once a fortnight—we are bound to register the sale of opium and laudanum—there is an entry in our books of the sale to the prisoner—I have not the books here—there is only one entry of a prescription with opium in it—there should not appear in our books the times and amount of the nux vomica we sold to the prisoner—for a sale across the counter we should not book it—the sale of opium or laudanum appears because it was a prescription, and I copied it in.
By the COURT. I wrote this date "20th" at the time of the purchase; as a rule I always date the orders—it was an omission on my part not to have dated this other one—a registered medical man has more facility of purchasing poison than a man who is not registered—if a stranger came and represented he was a medical man, and I found he was not in the register, I should not supply him with poison if it was in the first schedule—a person might die from poison in the second schedule, but I should see whether the man could write a Latin prescription—if his name was not in the register he might be a medical student—I did not register in our books every purchase he made—I registered the opium because it was a prescription, and there were other ingredients—I did not register the prescription with nux vomica in it because no sulphate of quinine was mixed with it, it was an independent item, and I should not have registered the other but that he had it two or three times, and to save trouble of looking it up I took a copy in the book—it was not necessary to register it—I should not register it in the hook ordinarily if it was for a medical man—I have no reason to give why I did not register it when I found he was not on the register—I could not say whether my practice is followed by other chemists.
LUCY ROSE . I live now at 19, Merrow Street, Walworth Road—in October, 1891, I was living as servant to Mrs. Phillips (who is also known as Mrs. Vowles) at 27, Lambeth Road—I was there five weeks in all; I left a fortnight after Matilda Clover died—she was living there when I went into the service, occupying two rooms on the top floor—she was 27, and had a little boy about 2 years old—this is a photograph of her—there was no other young woman living in the house besides Clover then—the household consisted of Mrs. Phillips, myself, Matilda Clover, her child, Mr. Vowles and Mrs. Phillips's grandson, who was a child of about nine, I think—Matilda Clover was not allowed the use of a latch-key; she would let herself out and be let in by me or someone else in the house—I recollect the morning on which she died—the previous day I went into her room and there found an open letter of
hers on the table with the envelope—I could see it had come through the post—I did not notice the postmark—I read the letter—I was in the house from the time I read the letter on the morning of the day before the death until after the death—after the death I looked for the letter carefully and could not find it. (THE ATT ORNEY-GENERAL proposed to ask the witness as to the contents of the letter. MR. GEOGHEGAN objected that the suggestion of the prosecution was that the letter told the woman to return the letter and envelope to the writer, and that the writer was the prisoner, and that no notice to produce had been served. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS considered that there was no proof of similarity of handwriting or any other evidence to connect the prisoner with the letter. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL did not press the evidence)—between seven and ten on the evening before Clover died I let her in; I do not know what time she had gone out—when I let her in a gentleman was with her—there was the light of a small paraffin lamp in the hall—the gentleman was tall and broad, and had a heavy moustache—he had no hair or whiskers on his chin or face except the moustache—I should say he was about forty—he was wearing a large coat with a cape, and a high silk hat—I had never seen him before—I do not recognise the prisoner—soon after they came in she went out for some beer, leaving the man in her rooms, and she returned—after that the man went out; Clover did not go out, she bade the man goodnight at the door—I heard her say, "Good-night, dear," as she let him out—I did not see him then—later I know she went out herself, because she asked me if I would listen to her baby—that was about an hour, I should think, after the man left—I went to bed about ten, and she had gone out at that time—after going to bed I went to sleep—I was awoke about three o'clock by Clover's screams—I sleep in the back room underneath where Clover slept—I called the landlady and went into Clover's room, and found her lying across the foot of the bed with her head fixed between the bedstead and the wall—she told me sue had been poisoned by pills—she was apparently in great agony—during her agony she screamed as if in great pain—there were moments when she appeared to have relief, and then the fit came on again—when the fits were upon her she was all of a twitch—she said once she thought she was going to die, and she said she would like to see her baby then because she thought she was going to die. (THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL submitted that he had laid the foundation for asking what statement the deceased nod made as to how she had been poisoned. MR. GEOGHEGAN contended that the mere fact that a person said, when in great pain, that she thought she was going to die, did not imply that settled sure feeling that there was no possible chance of recovery such as could render a dying declaration admissible. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS was of opinion that before a dying declaration could be admitted it must be proved that at the moment the person made the statement she was in such a condition that her immediate death was probable; she must be labouring under a mortal disorder, which mortal disorder she believed would be the immediate cause of death)—When the fit or agony was on her, her eyes rolled about terribly—I remained with her in and out of the room the whole of the time until her death—these intermittent fits continued all the time up to her death, she died at a quarter to nine the same morning—in her moments of relief she was quite calm and collected; it was in one of those moments of relief that she made the statement about
dying and her desire to see the child—her words were, "I think I am going to die, and I should like to see my baby"—the landlady sent for medical help, and Mr. Coppin, assistant to Mr. McCarthy, came, I think about seven, he only stayed a few minutes—Clover had been drinking the previous night, I noticed it—Mr. Coppin sent some medicine; the first drop I gave her she turned all black—we sent Mrs. Phillips' grandson for it—Mrs. Phillips went again for Mr. Coppin, but he did not come—Clover was getting worse—during that early morning she vomited a good deal—Dr. Graham came for the first time in the middle of the day—he gave the certificate of death—he had not seen her that morning, not until she was dead—she was buried at Tooting, on 27th October, by the parish; I think Mr. Measures was the undertaker—I do not think any information of her death was given to the police—I do not remember the date when the police first came to me to make inquiry about Matilda Clover, I think it was about seven months after her death—I attended the inquest, it began on 22nd June, and the verdict was given on 13th July—until the inquest I had heard nothing about strychnine in connection with Matilda Clover—she sometimes went out to market for herself, with a basket—she then generally wore a grey dress and a large apron with shoulder-straps to it.
Cross-examined. When I left Mrs. Phillips I went to live at another house in Lambeth Road, about three minutes' walk from there, and I stayed there seven or eight weeks—Clover was in the habit of bringing men to 27—it is four doors from the Masons' Arms—I believe the first eight houses after the Masons' Arms took in lodgers; there were no lodgers at Mrs. Phillips but Clover when I first went there, she was there all the time I was—when other lodgers were there they brought in men—I was examined once before Mr. Hicks the Coroner, then before Sir John Bridge, at Bow Street, and then recalled—I gave evidence in Court three times—before I gave evidence in Court a gentlemen called on me and asked what I knew about the matter, and took it all down in writing, he only called once—I made a statement to Inspector Harvey and another gentleman—the man I saw had a coat with a cape on it—while Clover was in great agony a cup of tea was given to her, and she drank it—just before her death she was wearing a brand-new pair of boots—they had been purchased at Lilley's, in Westminster Bridge Road—they were pawned after her death; I remained with her till she died—I saw her die—besides the tea and medicine, she had some soda and milk, it did not stay on her stomach; she drank some of it—she had no difficulty in swallowing—I did not see her corpse taken away, I was not in the house, I was with Mrs. Phillips' daughter—a person from Lambeth Walk laid her out, I don't know her name, I should know her again if I saw her—I saw the letter on the table, and read it from beginning to end—she told me that she had bought the boots at Lilley's—she did not say a gentleman had bought them, she said the gentleman was with her at the time; I did not see her buy them—I saw her the day she bought them, in the morning, and again in the evening; she bought them in the evening when she was out—she was drunk when she came home—she said the gentleman had given her the money to buy them—the gentleman left earlier than ten o'clock—she came back about half-past ten; Mrs. Phillips said it was about that; I heard Mrs. Phillips give evidence before the Coroner—Clover always had to knock at the
door when she came in, no matter what time she came home; I did not wait up to let her in, Mrs. Phillips did—I did not see the men she brought home.
Re-examined. When she went out to a neighbouring shop she sometimes left the door ajar, I used to leave it open when I went out—Clover was the only woman lodging in the house in October—there was no one else there when she died—there had been about a week before, I think—there was no man in the house that I saw on the 20th October except the man I have described—I was in the house all the day, and all the evening and night—I think Sergeant Ward first spoke to me about Clover's death—inspector Harvey saw me after that—my first statement was made to Inspector Harvey and another gentleman—C lover complained of her throat; she said she seemed as if she had something sticking in her throat, and if she could get it up she thought she should be better—I think she vomited after taking all the things.
EMMA VOWLES . In October last I was living at 27, Lambeth Road; at that time I had a lodger named Matilda Clover—she occupied some upper rooms with her child—at three o'clock in the morning of 21st October I was called by Lucy Rose, and I went and saw Clover lying across the foot of the bed—I saw her vomit—I did not stay with her long, I went to fetch Dr. Graham; he did not come, Mr. Coppin came—I was not present when Clover actually died—I gave information to Dr. Graham with regard to her death; and it was in consequence of what I told him that he gave his certificate—I had seen her about an hour before her death—I next heard about her when Inspector Harvey came, five or six months ago—up to that time no suspicion had arisen in my mind as to her death by strychnine, I had heard no suggestion of the kind from anyone—I remember the inquest in June, I think that was the first time I heard anything about her death by strychnine.
Cross-examined. I am still living at 27, Lambeth Road, and still taking in lodgers—I have lived there about two years and nine months; during that time I have taken in lodgers, not mostly women; I don't take many women in—this was the first death that occurred in my house—my neighbours on both sides take in lodgers—I did not know that Clover had friends who used to visit her before Rose came—I never saw any persons that used to visit her—I know she had a friend named Fred visiting her—he was constantly in the habit of coming to see her—she did not stay out late then, only for the last four months—I gave her a key to let herself in with—I went to bed at all hours, because I used to sit up for my husband; he is a cabman, he drives a day cab; he is seldom in before twelve, sometimes two—I give all my lodgers keys—one was a cabman and his wife and little child, and there was another woman; I never knew her bring men in—I don't think Clover did either—as far as I remember I never saw the prisoner before the inquest; he was then between two warders—the man Fred was in the habit of coming to see Clover—they had a quarrel, and I heard Fred say he would never put foot inside the house again; he was a slight fair man and wore a light suit—she was cut up by the quarrel with Fred—she was very anxious to make it up with him if she could meet him—I saw her body after death—her rooms were not let again for months after her death—my rooms used not to be long empty, but since her death I have not let so well—I don't remember how long it was
after her death before a lodger came, it was a long time—the neighbour in the next house on my left is named Payne—I only knew her to say "Good morning"; the person on the right I did not know to speak to.
Re-examined. The father of Clover's child (Fred) is a very slight fair young man, with large blue eyes, and I should take him to be 32 or 34—he is not at all like the prisoner—the quarrel took place about four weeks before her death—I don't think she had seen him since the quarrel up to the time of her death—she used to speak to me about him very much—I did not let her in on the Monday that she died; she had her latch-key—she was in the passage when I got upstairs—I was going up to bed with a light in my hand—my husband had not come in; I was going to my room to wait up for him—I went up after Clover—I had no means of knowing what time she went to bed—the child slept with her, in the same bed.
By the COURT. I saw no man at all in my house that night—I was not long in Clover's presence before she died, only the short times between, I don't suppose more than one-half hour altogether—I had not been in her room for an hour before her death—I had been out twice for the doctor—I registered her death—I said when I registered it that I was present at her death; that was for want of thought—I registered it the same night she died—she spoke reasonably to me when I saw her—she was very sick when I was in the room—I did not notice any trembling or spasm—Dr. Graham did not ask me what the symptoms were before her death; I told him the was as I saw her, all in a mass of perspiration, trembling, and very sick.
FRANCIS COPPIN . I live at 138, Westminster Bridge Road—I am assistant to Dr. McCarthy—on the morning of the 21st October, about seven o'clock, I was called in to 27, Lambeth Road—I saw Lucy Rose there—as far as I recollect Mrs. Phillips took me up to see Matilda Clover—she was lying on a bed—she was not in a fit at the time I saw her first—she had a quick pulse, and was bathed in perspiration, and trembling—I was with her about ten or twelve minutes—she had a convulsion while I was there—there was a twitching of the body—I gave her some medicine to stop the vomiting—she had vomited previous to my being there; I saw it there—I concluded that she was suffering from epileptic fits, convulsions, due to alcoholic poisoning—I had been told by Mrs. Phillips that she had been in the habit of drinking—that helped me to form an opinion as to what she was suffering from—I was examined at the inquest on Matilda Clover—I had heard before that that a girl had taken two pills—I did not hear of strychnine until three detectives came to me; that was before, the inquest, I should think about the end of April or the beginning of May.
Cross-examined. The word poison was not mentioned to me in connection with this woman's death—I have had 14 years' experience in this part of London, and a good deal of experience of drink in its various forms—I had no doubt that this woman was suffering from excessive drink—I am acquainted with the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—nothing in her appearance suggested that to me—I should put the symptoms described down to delirium tremens, from convulsions; that sometimes occurs—there was nothing to point out to me that she died from anything but delirium tremens—I prescribed carbonate of soda.
Re-examined. I am not a qualified practitioner—I have never had a case of strychnine poisoning—I can say from my reading that intermittent convulsions and twitching of the body are indications of poisoning by strychnine—they are tetanic convulsions—I was told by Mrs. Phillips that she had been drinking—I was prepared to accept the idea of drink—I asked the girl what she had been drinking and how she was; I examined her—that was all I asked her—I was with her about ten or twelve minutes, during that time there was one convulsive fit—I saw Dr. Graham before he gave his certificate—I told him I thought it was drink.
By the COURT. When I saw her at seven in the morning I thought she would die, but not so soon—I thought she was in a dying condition—about an hour after I saw her. soon after eight, before she died, Mrs. Phillips came round to ask me to go again immediately—I sent a messenger to Dr. Graham to tell him to go, as he had been attending her for twelve days previously—I inquired of Mrs. Phillips when the vomiting, twitching, and so on commenced, and I heard it was about three, I think—I did not go myself.
ROBERT GRAHAM . I am a registered medical practitioner I knew Matilda Clover—she had been to consult me on several occasions; the first being about twelve days before her death—during the twelve days I had seen her eight or nine times, about eight—I had been prescribing for alcoholism, bromide of potassium, and sedative medicines, as for a woman who had been taking drink—on each of the eight or nine occasions she came to my place; the last time was on the 19th October—I do not keep entries of club patients in my book; she was in a club—I fix the 19th merely from memory; it was not earlier, I know it was on Monday, 19th—that was the last occasion I saw her alive, and it was at my own place—on the morning of 21st Mrs. Phillips came to me twice—the first time I was out at a case, it was at half-past four—she came again at half-past six; I was engaged at a labour, and was just going out to it for the second time, and could not go, so that I did not see Clover at her house till I saw her dead—I sent Mrs. Phillips to Dr. McCarthy as I could not go myself; I said, "You had better call in another medical man as I cannot come," and I suggested Dr. McCarthy, in the Westminster Bridge Road—after the death I saw Mrs. Phillips and Mr. Coppin—I already knew Clover had been in the habit of drinking; that was what I had treated her for—from both Mrs. Phillips and Mr. Coppin I got the information which I put in this certificate which I gave—I am not aware I was guilty of a very grave dereliction of duty in giving it.
By the COURT. I knew I was bound to put what was true—I said, "I certify that I attended Matilda Clover during her last illness"—I had not seen her on her death-bed—"such person's age was stated to be twenty-seven years; that I last saw her on 21st October, 1891"—I only saw her when she was dead, and I made an examination of her body—"to the best of my knowledge and belief the cause of her death was, primarily, delirium tremens, secondly, syncope"—that means delirium tremens resulting in or causing syncope, which means failing of the heart's action.
Cross-examined. When Clover came to consult me she had all the symptoms of a person who had been drinking to excess—I gave her sedatives,
bromide of potassium—if a person has undergone a course of sedatives and then drinks brandy, it would have a marked effect on her—brandy does not go with bromide of potassium in the case of a person in a weak state of health; the two things acting on one another in the body of a person in a weak state of health would produce a kind of fit if the person took an excessive amount of spirit—if a person took fifteen grains of bromide of potassium, and then took brandy on the top of it, it would have a very marked effect on him—on one occasion when I attended this woman in my surgery she was taken quite faint—she was not a strong woman by any means; and her mode of life was not conducive to her health.
Re-examined. I stated at the inquest that on one occasion at my surgery she felt faint; I gave her a glass of water, which restored her, she seemed refreshed—bromide of potassium is a nerve sedative; I should say it was a thing commonly prescribed in cases of drink—I have made no statement to the solicitor for the defence.
By the COURT. I don't know that I can explain what the "marked effect" would be; I mean that with a person who drank excessively of spirit the bromide would not have the effect of subduing the convulsion altogether, if there was a convulsion—I do not say it would have the effect of producing a convulsion—I was not told by Mrs. Phillips that this last illness commenced with screaming, great agony, twitching, tetanic spasms, and so on—I asked how she came home, and what condition she was in, and I was told she had drunk nearly a bottle of brandy—Mrs. Phillips told me that; that she came in and she had been drinking heavily that night, and she was drunk and rolling about—I asked Mr. Coppin the symptoms he had noticed—I did not learn from anybody that between three a.m. and the hour of her death she had been in torture; nobody told me that she had been or that she had not been—I did not ask Rose; she was absent taking the child downstairs—I asked Mr. Coppin, and the landlady, and she said she was simply shaking—I said before the Coroner that from my knowledge I thought it was quite possible that she had a fit of delirium tremens, and that syncope had supervened.
JOHN MEASURES . I live at Regency Place, Kennington Gross, and am foreman to Mr. Mouatt, the undertaker, of Waterloo Road—I had conduct of Clover's funeral; the body was buried by the parish on 27th October at Tooting Cemetery—the coffin had a plate with "M. Clover, 27 years"—I. made the coffin—I was present on 5th May when the grave was opened, and on 6th when the coffin was opened—I identified the coffin and the clothes on the body.
Cross-examined. I myself took the body and put it into the coffin.
ELIJAH GEORGE STEERS . I am assistant cemetery-keeper at the parochial cemetery at Tooting—there was an order from the parish for the burial of Clover, and I was present when the body was buried—in consequence of an order from the Home Office the body was exhumed on May 5th, and removed from the grave to the mortuary at the cemetery.
JOHN HARE . I am a labourer at Lambeth Cemetery; I live there—I was present when Clover's coffin was taken up—I opened it in Dr. Stevenson's presence, and he having taken from the body what he wanted it was reburied.
came and looked at a room and arranged, and on the 7th he came in—he said he had been staying at Anderton's Hotel, and his luggage was marked with the label of that hotel—he had one room, the second floor front—he said he had means—he said nothing about what his profession was, beyond telling us he was Dr. Neill—he saw no patients at our house, and so far as I know he did not practise his profession at all—he said he came to England for his health—when he came he wore a brown macintosh and a felt hat with a flat top—some time after he came to stay at the Lambeth Palace Road he asked me to take a letter for him round to the Lambeth Road—he mentioned a number, but I forget it—he said he knew a young lady there, and he thought she had been poisoned; he wanted to find out if she was dead or not—a name was mentioned, but I could not remember it—he said she had a child—I said I would go at first, but afterwards I refused; I said I had better not, and he said himself that perhaps I had better not—I think he said he would go himself—he did not, about that time, tell me anything about what he had ascertained; or say anything in reference to her, not until later on—I think he stayed out the first Friday night that he stayed with us, because he came in on the Saturday morning; that Friday would be the 9th—he said he knew who poisoned the young lady whom he knew in the Lambeth Road; it was Lord Russell—the Russell case was going on in the Divorce Court at that time—he continued to live at our house until he left to go to America, as I understood, on 5th January—on 7th April he returned and took the one room, and on the 9th he came in and he remained there until he was arrested—Easter Sunday this year was on 17th April—he made no reference then to the letter he had wanted me to take to the Lambeth Read; it was not till he was being watched, in May I should think, that he said it was a good thing I did not go round to the house, as they were going to exhume the body—I asked him how he knew, and he said he had sent a Mr. Haynes round—I had seen Haynes—I understood him he had sent Haynes to make inquiries about the girl, so I thought; about the time the body was to be exhumed—my attention was not called to Clover's death at the time it occurred—I did not know anything about it—the prisoner never had dinner at home except on Sunday, but on Monday, 11th April, after he returned, he had the dinner which had been ordered in for the Sunday because, on the Sunday morning, he said he should not be home—on the Monday he dined at half-past six; he said he had a late appointment, and went out at ten—what time he came back I do not know—I remember hearing something about the inquests on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell—we take Lloyd's Newspaper; there was a report of those inquests in it, I could not say if it was on Easter Sunday—the prisoner asked me for the paper; he wished to see the inquest on those two girls—he said it was a cold-blooded murder—in April we had also lodging in our house a medical student named Harper—he had been lodging with us for three years—he was a son of Dr. Harper, of Barnstaple—on the day after he asked for Lloyd's Newspaper the prisoner came into Mr. Harper's rooms, which were on the drawing-room floor—I was there—the prisoner asked me several questions about Mr. Harper, and looked at his medical books—I could not remember the exact questions now he asked me; I did not refuse to answer him—he asked me where Mr. Harper
lived, and what kind of gentleman he was—I told him he was very quiet—I felt no difficulty in answering the questions he put to me—later he told me that it was Mr. Harper who had poisoned Marsh and Shrivell—I said he was the last man in the world to do such a thing; that he must be mad—he told me not to tell anyone—he said the police had the proofs—I asked how he knew, and he said he had a detective friend from America—he said each of the women had had a letter before their death, warning them not to take the stuff that Mr. Harper would give them; I understood him to say that the police had the letters—I noticed that the house was being watched on the Sunday when the prisoner was away—that was in May, about 16th or 17th—I could not give the exact time, but some time about the middle of May—the prisoner said he was aware that the house was being watched—I told him they were watching him; he said they had made a mistake; that they were suspicious of him because he was an American—on one occasion he said they were after Mr. Harper; that was after the occasion in May that I have spoken of, I think—later I asked him why he took an interest in the inquest which was going on, and he said the man ought to be brought to justice—when he went away in May from Saturday to Tuesday he gave me on the Saturday a cash-box to take care of—that was before the house was being watched—when I became aware the house was being watched he asked me to give him the cash-box back—he gave me with the cash-box a note-book, they were wrapped up in a newspaper in one parcel—the cash-box was locked—I think it was on the Friday after his return that he got the cash-box from me—I was aware at that time that the house was watched—he mentioned it tome first—when I gave him the parcel he tore the note-book up, and asked me to burn the pieces, and I did so—later on a detective came to the house to make inquiries, and desiring to know the prisoner's movements—I then wrote out this paper at the prisoner's dictation, he being in bed at the time. (This was read as follows): "May 25th, 1892—I arrived in Liverpool on the 1st of October, 1891; came ashore on the 2nd of October; spent three days in Liverpool; arrived in London on the 5th of October, put up at Anderton's Hotel, spent two or three days there, then removed to 103, Lambeth Palace Road, where I remained till the 6th of January, 1892, on which night I returned to Liverpool on my way to America. There I remained till the 23rd of March, on which day I sailed from New York for Liverpool; I arrived in Liverpool on the 1st of April; in London the 2nd of April; returned to Liverpool on the 4th or 5th of April; spent two or three days in Liverpool, after which I returned to London; put up at Edwards's Hotel; spent two or three days there; then went down into the country, where I spent several days, after which I came to live at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, where I still reside."—that 25th May was the first date, as far as I know, on which any detective had come to the house to inquire—I asked the prisoner to write some letters for me in relation to a relative of mine, and he afterwards handed me these documents; one is in the form of a letter to Dr. Souttar, and the other is a draft advertisement—after he was arrested I received from him, from the prison, this letter, which I afterwards handed to Inspector Tunbridge—there was a cupboard in the prisoner's room—I have seen a box like this in it—I opened the box; empty capsules were in it, such as these—
when he was arrested on 3rd June the capsule box was not in the cupboard—I had failed to see the capsule box in the cupboard for about a week before his arrest; that would be after the house was being watched—up to that time the box had been there the whole time the prisoner was staying with us—I had occasion to go to the cupboard—when Tunbridge came I pointed out the things belonging to the prisoner, and Tunbridge took them away.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner came in October he had no patients and no visitors, as far as I could see, and no acquaintances—he had no sitting-room—he was thrown on himself and his own resources for amusement and occupation, as far as I could see—he told my sister in my hearing that he suffered from his heart and brain, and that he was obliged to take a long voyage for his health—he suggested to me that he was unable to sleep at night—during October I know he was in the habit of dosing himself with opium—he took a dose of medicine in water, and ate a lump of sugar afterwards—I don't know how often he took it—he appeared to be ill during October—I read the Russell divorce case in the Daily Telegraph—it was while I was reading it he mentioned that Lord Russell was the man who had poisoned the woman—he appeared a very inquisitive man; thrusting himself into persons' affairs with which he had nothing to do, so far as I could judge—I know that of the few acquaintances he had in London Haynes was an ex-detective whom he had casually met at a photographer's in the Westminster Bridge Road, and McIntyre, a police officer connected with Scotland Yard—when he went away for the few days he said he was going into the country to Berk-hamsted—he told me he was engaged to be married, and he said he was going down to where his sweetheart was staying—before he gave me the cash-box and note-book, I had seen him open the cash-box—I think he used to keep it in his portmanteau, and the note-book as well, I never saw it about—the newspaper in which the cash-box and note-book were wrapped was not tied, and there was nothing to prevent my reading the note-book, if I had had the curiosity to do so—I once complained of being ill, and he gave me medicine, not in a capsule.
Re-examined. In October he complained of not being in good health, and sleeplessness, and he was in the habit of taking laudanum—he did not continue that practice later on; it was only the first time he stayed with us; afterwards he seemed to have got better—he took very little at our place; he only dined on Sundays—he used to take milk and toast for his breakfast.
THOMAS STEVENSON . I am an M.D., and lecturer on medical jurisprudence at Guy's Hospital, and one of the analysts employed by the Government—on 6th May, in consequence of instructions from the Home Office, I went to the cemetery at Tooting; a grave was there pointed out to me by Steers, from which a coffin had been taken—the grave was in a very dry place—there had been no wet on the coffin—Measures was also there—I noticed on the coffin a plate with the name "M. Clover, 27 years"—the coffin was opened in my presence, and I examined the body, assisted by Mr. Dunn, senior demonstrator at Guy's Hospital—the body was that of a well-developed female of apparently between the ages of 26 and 30, as I judged—for the most part the body was in a very good state of preservation—I proceeded to a closer examination by dissection, external and internal—I opened the large cavities, the abdomen, chest and heart—the brain
was free from any tumour or hæmorrhage; it was much decomposed—I could detect no sign of disease, either there or in the upper portion of the spinal cord—there was no sign of disease in the heart, stomach, towels, spleen, liver or kidneys—the bladder was empty—the womb was unimpregnated; it was that of a woman who had borne a child or children—the stomach was empty—I found no indication of any disease in the vital organs that went to account for her death—I then, for the purposes of analysis, removed as much of the brain as I could; the stomach, the upper portion of the duodenum (the first portion of the small bowel); the whole of the liver; both kidneys; the spleen; the heart; and nearly half a pint of fluid which had drained into the cavity of the chest during the examination—the entire portions so removed weighed 114¼ ounces—I proceeded to analyse those for the presence of poison generally, but especially for alkaloidal poisons, of which strychnine is one—I detected strychnine in the stomach, liver, the fluid in the chest, and the brain—the kidneys and spleen I reserved for other purposes of analysis—I obtained from the stomach, liver, brain, and fluid from the chest an appreciable quantity of strychnine which I tested on a frog, injecting it beneath the skin of the frog's back—it had the characteristic results of strychnine poisoning, from which it died; it had tetanic convulsions, was very rigid, the forelegs were clasped across the chest; it had peculiar croaking, peculiar respiration, and, in fact, quite characteristic symptoms—I made, eventually, a quantitative analysis in which I obtained a weighing from the same viscera, that is, I took the portion obtained from nearly the whole of the stomach, about one-third of the liver, a quarter of the brain, and half of the chest fluid, and I obtained from those together, about two pounds of material, one-sixteenth of a grain—that one-sixteenth would represent nearly a full medicinal dose—one-twelfth is the maximum medicinal dose—in my judgment, from the evidence I have heard in the case to-day about the woman vomiting frequently, and from my finding her stomach empty, and from the quantity that I did find, and the indications I found, it points conclusively to a larger and fatal dose having been administered—I have no doubt that taking into account the vomiting and the length of time, it did point to a much larger dose—a little above half a grain has killed, but one grain is usually about a fatal dose—I was not present when Lucy Hose and Mrs. Vowles were examined—twitchings, convulsions and rigidity, with intermittence, I should say, would at once suggest the taking of strychnine—those convulsions and spasms are tetanic—they are not at all the symptoms you would find in the case of delirium tremens, there are very marked differences; in delirium tremens the mental faculties are obscured and perverted, in strychnine spasms they are often very acute and are not at all impaired, except perhaps just at the very last moment of life—in strychnine poisoning after twitchings the whole body, as a rule, becomes rigid and often arched backwards; the patient has a sense of being suffocated, due to a fixing of the muscles of the chest, and generally in half a minute, or more often in two or three minutes, all the spasm passes off, the patient is perfectly sensible, bathed in perspiration and free from spasms—Mr. Coppin referred to Clover being bathed in perspiration, that is a symptom of strychnine poisoning—it is also a sign of
delirium tremens, but the patient will remain bathed in perspiration continuously for hours throughout the whole of a bad case of delirium tremens—the case described of the spasms being intermittent, and the patient being collected and calm during the intervals of freedom from pain, would not be consistent with its being delirium tremens; the patient is generally not calm, but flurried, excited, tremulous, and certainly there is no real intermission of the symptoms; I mean a patient is not in a state of ease at one minute, and then in two or three minutes more in a state of violent convulsion—assuming the case to be one where there are those violent agonies, and spasms followed by minutes of freedom from pain, calmness and collectedness, that would be a symptom of, and would point to strychnine poisoning—the symptoms point to strychnine poisoning, and my analysis and post-mortem examination lead me to the same result—bromide of potassium is given to allay nervous irritation and excitement; it is often given in delirium tremens as a sedative—I cannot say whether it would make any difference if the bromide was taken after drink or drink after the bromide; all I can say is that if the man were to take drink after a sedative it might start delirium tremens—this (referring to a bottle) is the form in which strychnine appears in crystals—on 4th July I received from Inspector Tunbridge this case of pills, and a box containing several kinds of coated pills—I examined the whole of these pills, and analysed some completely—the case contained fifty-four bottles of pills, and of those bottles seven contained strychnine, all in medicinal quantities, taking pill by pill—this bottle, No. 2 in the case, was full, and contained 168 pills; I analysed them twice and found 1/2 2 grain in each pill; they are labelled "Strychnine, 1/16 grain, poison," but they are a little short of that quantity—twenty-two of them would make up a complete grain, and eleven of them would make half a grain—rather less than half a grain has been found to be a fatal dose, but certainly approaching a grain would be a fatal dose—I do not think that there is any poison that quite approaches in the character of its crystals the appearance of strychnine; to a skilled eye there is something rather characteristic; but I would not, with all my knowledge, establish an opinion by mere examination by eye; I think an ordinary observer might easily mistake the crystals for those of some other substance—I also had produced to me a box of capsules; one of them was given to me called a five-grain capsule, and into that I put a score of these pills—these pills contain other matters; they weigh about three parts of a grain each; the chief part of them is milk, sugar, and a little accipient to make the mass stick together, and then there is the strychnine—strychnine in small quantities is given as a tonic in nervous diseases, generally as a tonic; it is very largely given as a medicine in small doses, not commonly in 1/16 of a grain though—I got the twenty pills into the No. 5 capsule without powdering or breaking up the pills—by powdering them you could get a few more in, I think not many more—if strychnine crystals, themselves, were put in of course there would be a great deal more strychnine; I don't know if I tried with a five-grain capsule, but you could get more than five grains of strychnine into it, because strychnine is heavier than many powders; you would be able to get into a five-grain capsule seven or eight grains of strychnine generally, if the strychnine crystals were powdered up, and put in with no other
matter—the time at which a fatal dose of strychnine begins to operate varies according to the mode in which it is taken, and the condition of the patient—if it is taken in a capsule, first the capsule must take time to dissolve; I have experimented with them in warm water, and I find it takes a quarter of an hour at least before they soften and give way; then the form in which the strychnine is in in the capsule affects it; if it is in a hard pill mass it will not operate so quickly as if it is in loose powder; it would dissolve more slowly—if it is given in a liquid the symptoms are produced more quickly—then the time varies greatly according to the contents of the stomach, and the state of the stomach, as to the period of digestion, acidity of the stomach, and many conditions affect it—the margin for the beginning to operate of a fatal dose is from two minutes, but from ten to twenty minutes is the usual time when it is taken in any article of food, it may vary from, two, five or ten minutes up to three-quarters of an hour, and when the patient is asleep longer than that, two or three hours exceptionally; generally it is three-quarters of an hour after it comes in contact with the stomach that it begins to operate—when it operates fatally would depend upon the dose, and the condition of the stomach, and whether it is retained in the patient or not—I heard that this woman on her death-bed vomited frequently; that in my judgment would probably have the effect of sending out in the vomit some portion of the strychnine taken.
Cross-examined. I think all these little bottles were full when they were brought to me; certainly this one containing the 168 pills was—I took some out to experiment with—I have heard Dr. Graham say to-day that he had attended Clover for drink; her nervous system would be very much upset—I cannot say exactly what the effect of alcohol would be, but if a person were on the verge of delirium tremens I should think it would render the person more susceptible to the effect of strychnine; it is a question of degree—I think a person like that would be affected sooner than a person living a temperate and healthy life—from the time the pill or draught has first been swallowed until the time the symptoms first show themselves is usually within half an hour—if a patient has been asleep it may be retarded for two or three hours; I have never known it retarded for two hours by sleep alone, but it has when opium or morphia has been taken—I discovered no morphia in my post-mortem examination; I know of no instance of its being found so long after death—I can give an instance of death occurring from strychnine five and a half hours afterwards. The first case I gave evidence in in this box, was the case of Silas Barlow in 1876, where he had poisoned his mistress with nux vomica containing strychnine, and she died in five and a quarter hours—the fatal dose was not known, but very little was found in the body after death—I do not think that was an exceptional case; I think there are two cases where death occurred after six hours—I hardly know if there was medical attendance in Barlow's case; I gave evidence, but I did not make the analysis; I think there was no medical attendance till after death, but I cannot be positive—I think in the other two cases there was some medical attendance; I don't know about sedatives—my impression is that a doctor was called in who did something to alleviate their sufferings—there is no remedy for strychnine, nothing to alleviate it really—chloroform would prolong life—injecting morphia does not seem to delay the progress
much, but chloroform or chloral does allay the spasms, and so protract the time before death will occur—when I heard of the evidence given before the Coroner and the Magistrate of the twitching of the body, the convulsive spasms, the perspiration, and other matters, it at once conveyed to me the idea of poisoning by strychnine, without the finding of strychnine—when I made my post-mortem I had not heard of the symptoms, but I may say that I had heard of strychnine—I did not confine myself to strychnine at all—before I injected into the frog I had performed the colour test—the frog presented the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—the frog is a cold-blooded animal, and a human being is warm-blooded, but the frog is a very delicate animal for symptoms; I don't know that it is very susceptible; but it is satisfactory at all events, and probably it does not give so much suffering as experimenting on a rabbit or dog—brucine is one of the component parts of nux vomica—it is only a delicate and difficult chemical operation to separate strychnine from brucine when you get small quantities, such as a grain or two—I found no brucine in this analysis; but there is no difficulty in detecting brucine in the presence of strychnine—I don't know if I should have detected brucine if it had been present, because I don't know anything about the detection of brucine some months after death—you can detect prussic acid months after death—I found none—in many cases I should not expect to be able to detect disease of the spinal cord after the body had been for some months in the ground, but in some cases I should—disease of the spinal cord might cause tetanic spasms—Mr. Coppin described the spasms as of a peculiar kind—a vegetable poison is generally more difficult to discover than a mineral poison—I do not put it that the colour test in strychnine poisoning is uncertain and fallacious, but it must be confirmed by other experiments, proof that it is an alkaloid, separating from the material in a particular manner, giving the colour test with several re-agents appropriate for strychnine, and the fact that it does produce the physiological effect on the frog—as a rule we are not justified in resorting to experiments on animal life till we get some strong presumptive evidence justifying it, and giving good ground for thinking it desirable to do it—I found strychnine obscurely crystalline—other substances present the same appearance as strychnine; I would not in such small quantities rely on the crystalline form—the form of the crystals in this case does not enable me to pronounce positively; nor does the colour test by itself—the action on the frog shows either strychnine or brucine I think—I injected the fluid into the frog after subjecting it to bichromate of potassium, and the action of the frog would help me to the belief that strychnine was what was injected; it confirmed absolutely in my mind the presence of the poison—the capsules I have been shown are merely gelatine—quinine is sometimes taken in them—drugs nauseous to the taste are put in them and taken by patients—probably there is nothing exceptional even in a non-professional man possessing them—I don't think they are very much used in London; they are used—I believe they are all made in America: one always goes to an American firm for them I believe, or else the retailer gets them from an American firm—I found, 1/16 grain of strychnine absorbed in the body; it would be secreted in the urine; of course it is distributed through all parts of the body, and as I operated on a great part of the body I might have got the greater
portion from the abdominal viscera—the heart was normal; the lungs had been a little congested I should think—I should not expect in death from strychnine poisoning that the heart would be contracted; it is very variable, sometimes it is full and sometimes contracted—symptoms of strychnine poisoning which are always present are the spasms attended with clearness of intellect and remittance, and so on; it is the aggregate of the symptoms; I put the whole thing together and say that drawing the inference from the aggregate number of circumstances I come to the conclusion it was strychnine poisoning—many cases of strychnine poisoning have been tried; Palmer's case was in the infancy of our knowledge of strychnine—there was not a great conflict of knowledge about that case; we knew little of strychnine then; it was the first homicidal case in which it was used, and some time after I had the first suicidal case; of late years we have had many cases—I have been through Palmer's case lately; the body generally was not rigid but flaccid; the legs and arms were rigid—the rigidity is not invariable—one symptom of strychnine is rigor after death, but it is not always present, it depends whether the patient dies in a spasm or in an interval of remission—when a person dies in a state of exhaustion the body would be flaccid in strychnine poisoning—rigidity is not invariable—I think the time between which the poison was taken and death is very important; it did not exceed the extreme maximum time—three-quarters of an hour is the common time—I think an inexperienced person may make a mistake in the colour test if the drugs are not pure—the colour I rely on is a purple-violet, which then passes through a play of colours I cannot explain—I know nothing else that gives that precise play of colours.
Re-examined. The length of time in which a fital dose will prove fatal depends on the mode in which it is administered, and to some extent upon the condition of the patient and on the quantity administered—death is generally more speedy from a very large dose, and if by vomiting the patient has got rid of a portion of the dose it would be a reason for expecting that the patient would live longer, or would recover—if in one of the paroxsyms the patient dies, I should expect rigidity of the body after death, and that that rigidity would last for some time—it would generally disappear a week or two after death, but in Palmer's case some portions of the body remained rigid from 21st November, when he died, I think, to early in January, when the body was exhumed—in this case over six months had elapsed—as regards the absence of brucine, so far as it is valuable at all it would be an indication that the strychnine had not been administered in the form of nux vomica—I have not experimented in the direction of tracing brucine after death, and I don't know anyone who has—that which I obtained was obscurely crystalline; but the fact that there were crystals; is of value—I arrived at the result that strychnine was the cause of death, not taking each matter as isolated, but as cumulative and supporting each other, the appearance, the colour test, the fact that it was an alkaloid, the crystals, and, finally, the action on the frog—the frog is an animal which remains rigid long after death, and it may be made rigid though many other of its vital portions are cut off first; I cut the head off and then made the body rigid—having considered the matter carefully in the light of my experience I have given the result I arrived at—when I was proceeding to make this examination I had heard of strychnine; that
was after I had made my examination of Marsh and Shrivell—I received the order from the Treasury on 4th May, and that mentioned strychnine—that was after I had made an examination of Marsh and Shrivell, and the day before I gave evidence at the inquests on those persons.
JOHN WILSON MCCULLOCH . I live at 374, Slater Street, Ottawa, in Canada—I am a traveller for Jardine and Co., Toronto, in coffee, spices, baking powder, extracts—at the end of February this year I was staying at Blanchard's Hotel, Quebec, from the evening of the 29th February to the afternoon of 8th March—I there made the prisoner's acquaintance—I knew him as Dr. Cream—he occupied a room upon the same floor as I was, and next to me—I saw him several times each day—a day or two after I got there on Saturday afternoon I felt unwell—I mentioned it to the prisoner, who took me to his room and gave me a pill, which he took from a bureau drawer, a dressing case—the pills were in bottles—he gave me an antibilious pill and a blue mass pill—he showed me photographs—next day I had conversation with him on business after dinner—he asked, with reference to my samples, if he could handle them to advantage in London, and before that we had conversation about each of our businesses—he took me to his room and showed me some samples he had received from the States of pills and patent medicines—they were all in bottles; there were about eighteen or twenty bottles, various—he opened his tin trunk and took out a cash-box, and from the cash-box he took out a wide-mouthed bottle about three inches long by one inch diameter; it contained whitish crystals and was about one-third full, similar to the contents of this bottle—he asked me, referring to the bottle, did I know what that was; he said, "That is poison"—I said, "For God's sake, what do you do with that?"—he said, "I give that to the women to get them out of the family way"—I said, "How do you do that?"—he said, "I give it to them in these," showing me a box containing eighteen or twenty capsules; it was a box exactly like this; the capsules were the same, but I did not see the cover because he laid it on one side—the capsules were about five-eighths of an inch long—he stepped backwards to the trunk and produced a pair of false whiskers, or divided beard without mustaches—I said, "What do you use these for?"—he said, "To prevent identification when operating"—he led me to believe previous to that that he procured abortion—we had several conversations about his visit to London, and during one of them he told me that he had had lots of fun in London with the women; he mentioned Waterloo Road, Westminster Road, London Road, and, Victoria Road, and said he had met as many as three women on one night, between the hours of 10 p.m. and 3. am., and had been in their company and had used them, and had paid no more than one shilling to each—he and I drove round on Sunday evening, 6th March; he pointed out where his sisters, brothers and other relatives lived, and were in business, and where he had worked as a boy in his father's shipyard—he told me that he was over there to secure his share of his father's estate, as his father had died about a month or so previous—a photograph, he particularly showed me, he said was that of a lady, Laura Sabbatini, to whom he was engaged to be married in London—he showed me no photographs of his relatives, but photographs of other women he did show me; there were several photographs on a bureau, and those were the only ones I paid much attention to—he showed me some jewellery in
the tin box, bracelets and brooches, and I think there was a necklace—he told me he had gotten them back from a lady to whom he had been engaged, but who had got married during his absence in the States; he said they were very valuable—these pills are very similar to the pills he showed me; this is not the sample case nor the bottles I saw.
Cross-examined. I met him as a visitor staying at the same hotel; I was not introduced to him; he was a casual acquaintance made in the hotel sitting-room—I was with him about eight and a half days—we only once went out for a drive together—we were a good deal in each other's company in the evening, and grew chatty and friendly—I saw him take morphia pills on one occasion—he said he had these pills because his head was bothering him—I told him he ought not to take so many—that was on the Thursday, 3rd March, previous to the conversation about practising abortion, and the women in London—he spent a good deal of money not only in mine, but in everybody's company—I was not continually associating with him—I saw him at meal times, and at night—if he entered a room I did not get up and leave it—I did not believe a word he said about the abortion at the time; he made a statement about it two days before he showed me the pills—I believed him at that time—I still continued to speak to him—there was only one room to sit in, and I sat in the same room with him although I knew he was a professed abortionist, I was not going to stand outside—I chatted and talked with him in the same way—he always had a loose tongue about women—I don't know if he went to some queer places in Quebec; I did not go with him—he did not tell me he had been to some brothels in Quebec—he showed me some improper and indecent photographs—I-think he said his head bothered him so that he could hot sleep at night, and that in consequence of that he took morphia to relieve his brain—I have no record of those conversations in my diary; I do not keep one—I have no memoranda of it; I trust to my memory—I have been brought to London specially for this case.
Re-examined. I had read in the papers an account of the identification of Thomas Neill with Dr. Cream, the person I knew, in connection with the inquest, and thereupon I identified the person as the person whom I had met in Quebec, and I wrote a letter to the chief of the police at Montreal on the advice of friends—after doing so, a communication was made to me through Inspector Jarvis, who was out in America on this matter, and I was subpœnaed to come here and give evidence—the prisoner talked part of the time about some musical instruments that I helped him to purchase, that brought us together—I did not continue to be friendly with him to the end—I lost confidence in him on Monday afternoon, through a conversation about an American who had come over therewith plenty of money; and the prisoner said he ought to have had that man's money; and I asked him how was that; and he said, "I could give that man a pill, and put him to sleep, and his money would have been mine"—I said, "You would not kill the man for 2,000 dols., would you?"—and he said, "I ought to have done it," and he regretted he had not done so, and I shunned him then—the man's name was Smith in the hotel, but his real name was not Smith, as he was arrested in Montreal for his crime, but I forget the name; he had robbed his employer, and got to Canada, and he had stopped at the hotel two or three days previous to my arrival there.
GEORGE PERCIVAL WYATT . I am a Coroner for the County of London and Surrey—about 19th October, 1891, I received this letter and envelope—I received also about 2nd or 3rd May this letter and envelope, and enclosed in the letter was this other letter and envelope to the foreman of the jury. (These letters were read in the opening; they were as follows:" October 19th, 1891. To G.P. Wyatt, Esq., Coroner,—I am writing to say that if you and your satellites fail to bring the murderer of Ellen Donworth, alias Ellen Linnell, late of 8, Duke Street, to justice, I am willing to give you such assistance as will bring the murderer to justice, provided your Government is willing to pay me £300,000 for my services; no pay unless successful—A. O'Brien, Detective." "London, May 2nd, 1892. To Coroner Wyatt, St. Thomas's Hospital, London. Dear Sir,—Will you please give the enclosed letter to the foreman of the Coroner's jury, at the inquest on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, and oblige—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray." "London, May 2nd. To the foreman of the Coroner's jury, in the case of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell. Dear Sir,—I beg to inform you that one of my operators has positive proof that Walter Harper, a medical student of St. Thomas's Hospital, and a son of Dr. Harper, of Bear Street, Barnstaple, is responsible for the deaths of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, he having poisoned these girls with strychnine; this proof you can have on paying my bill for services to George Clarke, Detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, to whom I will give the proof on his paying my bill.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."
ALFRED D. ACLAND . lam a member of the firm of W. H. Smith and Son, having among other places of business, 186, Strand—on 6th November, 1891, I received this letter, dated 5th November, and the envelope—it had been through the post—it is addressed to Frederick Smith, but I opened it—I handed it to our solicitors. (This letter was read in the opening; it was as follows): "London, 5th November, 1891. Mr. F. D. W. Smith, care of William H. Smith and Son, 186, Strand. Sir,—On Tuesday night, 13th October (last month), a girl named Ellen Donworth, but sometimes called Ellen Linnell, who lived at 8, Duke Street, Westminster Bridge Road, was poisoned with strychnine. After her death, among her effects were found two letters criminating you, which if they ever become public property will surely convict you of the crime. I enclose you a copy of one of the letters which the girl received on the morning of 13th October (the day on which she died). Just read it, and then judge for yourself what hope you have of escape if the law officers ever get hold of these letters. Think of the shame and disgrace it will bring on your family if you are arrested and put in prison for this crime. My object in writing you is to ask if you will retain me at once as your counsellor and legal adviser. If you employ me at once to act for you in this matter I will save you from all exposure and shame in the matter; but if you wait till arrested before retaining me, then I cannot act for you, as no lawyer can save you after the authorities get hold of these two letters. If you wish to retain me, just write a few lines on paper, say: 'Mr. Fred Smith wishes to see Mr. Jayne, the barrister, at once.' Paste this in one of your shop windows at 186, Strand, next Tuesday morning, and when I see it I will drop in and have a private interview with you. I can save you if you retain me in time, but not otherwise.—Yours truly, H. Bayne."
JOSEPH HARPER . I am a medical man, practising in Barnstaple—I received this letter, of the 25th April, 1892, on 26th, the three enclosures of Ellen Don worth's death, and the cutting from Lloyd's Weekly News produced—my son, Walter Joseph Harper, was pursuing his medical studies in London for some years at St. Thomas's Hospital to qualify for his degree—he qualified in March or April—I showed him the letter and its enclosures when he came back to Barnstaple.
WALTER JOSEPH HARPER . I am the son of the last witness—I recollect my father showing me the letter and its enclosures—I resided for some time at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, Mrs. Sleaper's—I was then studying at St. Thomas's—last Easter I was at Bromley from Saturday to the Tuesday—I had never spoken to the prisoner—I knew him by sight.
HENRY JOHN CLARK . I keep a private inquiry office at 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross—on 5th May last I received an envelope like this (produced)—I handed it over to Inspector Harvey about three weeks afterwards.
JOHN HAYNES . I am an engineer—I am out of employment—about the beginning of April last I went to lodge at Mr. Armstead's, a photographer, of 129, Westminster Bridge Road—I was there introduced to Neill—he afterwards told me he was agent for the Harvey Drug Company—he showed me a case of samples I have since seen—I was to an extent a good deal in his company—I went about with him in the daytime, and in the evening sometimes—on one occasion Mr. Armstead made a communication that we were being followed, that his house was being watched—I asked Neill if it was he they were following—he said, "No. certainly not"—I said, "I cannot go to the music-hall with you to-night without making inquiry"—that was about 14th May—instead of going to the music-hall that night I went to make inquiries—the following day I told Neill he ought to have told me the evening we were together that he knew he had been followed for some time—he said he had been followed for another man who lived in the same house as he; he said his name was Walter Joseph Harper, a medical student at St. Thomas's—I asked him why they followed Harper—he made a verbal statement at that time, and afterwards a written statement which I took down in his presence with his permission—his verbal statement was as nearly as possible the same as was afterwards reduced to writing—these are the rough notes I took at the time, at the Café Paris in Ludgate Hill, where we went to dine together:—"Walter J. Harper, M.R.C.S., L.R.C.R., student at St. Thomas's, at one time well-known among a low class of people, B.T. lived at time of murder at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, father an M. D. at Barnstaple (B, St.), being supplying son with ample means while in London, promising son partnership on account of, etc. W.J.H. got girl at Mutton's at Brighton in trouble some time back, procured abortion for her. Stamford Street girls aware of this, H. visiting them, they threatened him, blackmail, victims. W.J.H. weeks before tried to purchase strychnine, telling him of his trouble, asking what he could do under the circumstances, be well to get rid of them, etc., person suspecting wrote
girls warning, anonymous letter, etc.; is fairish, 5-8, slim, thick brown mustache, haughty and distant in manner, gentlemanly, etc., etc. Ask Sidney Jones, consulting surgeon, Thomas's. Issued invite to H. to wedding of daughter. Left day before inquest suddenly, leaving property behind, 118, Stamford Street, Mrs. E. Vogt. Did girls receive anon, letter before affair. J. H.—A. B. H."—the name of the terrace is underlined—"B. T. "is Blythe Terrace—that is to show she lived there—"B. St. "is Bear Street—"on account of, etc., "means" on account of old age"—that was given to me to make inquiries by Neill—he gave me the names of Marsh and Shrivell—they received anonymous letters before death, before taking poisons from Dr. Harper—that was given me in order that I might investigate it if I wished to prove his statement—after making that memorandum he mentioned incidentally at the time that Harper had not alone poisoned Marsh and Shriven, but three other women—he mentioned the names, Ellen Donworth, Matilda Clover, Loo Harvey—some time after the first meeting he told me that Matilda Clover lived at 27, Lambeth Road—he went with me and pointed out the house to me—he said she had been poisoned with strychnine, and that her body should be exhumed, when the poison would be found—he asked me to make inquiries that very morning—he waited outside till I made inquiries—I inquired if Matilda Clover had died there from poison—he said Loo Harvey had been poisoned by Harper at a music-hall, and that she had fallen dead either at the music-hall or between two music-halls which he named, I think the Royal and the Oxford—he said Loo Harvey resided at 55, Townshend Road, St. John's Wood—I went with him there—he pointed me out the house where she had resided, 55, Townshend Road—I made inquiries—he said the reason Harper had told him of the victims in the different cases was that Marsh and Shrivell were acquainted with Harper at Brighton—he said he was on terms of the greatest friendship with Harper—he said that Harper being in trouble had asked him to procure strychnine for the purpose of poisoning those girls—he said that he had written an anonymous letter to Shrivell and Marsh, warning them not to take medicines of any kind from Dr. Walter J. Harper—I have made other notes for my own purposes—they are at home, 129, Westminster Bridge Road—apart from these notes I wrote a statement which I gave to the authorities—I can find my other notes.
Wednesday, 19th October.
JOHN HAYNES (Re-called by MR. GILL). After I had been to Townshend Road with the prisoner, I went there with Sergeant McIntyre, and pointed out the house to him—when the prisoner made the statement to me about young Mr. Harper, I told him it was a very grave matter, and asked him how it was that he had not communicated what he knew to the authorities, and that I thought it my duty to do so—he said it was very foolish of me to think about doing such a thing, as there was more money to be made out of it by seeing Walter J. Harper's father at Barnstaple—I said to him that this was not America, and he could not do as he pleased here; that it was a penal offence—he said he did not care—I remember being on an omnibus with him towards the end of May, and hearing the newspaper boys calling out, "Arrests in the Stamford Street case," upon which the prisoner appeared agitated, and called my attention to it, and he wanted to get down and buy the papers; we were then some
hundred yards from Charing Cross, coming west—I remonstrated with him as to getting down, and said, "We shall be at Charing Cross directly, and then you can buy the papers"—when the 'bus stopped at Charing Cross we gat down, and he purchased the whole of the evening papers, all that the vendor had, and he gave me one to read, in fact, he gave me the whole of them—he asked me to read that item of news; it referred to an arrest in what was known as "The Stamford Street Road to Ruin" case—it had nothing to do with the inquest on Marsh and Shrivell; when I read it to him he appeared much relieved—I was with him on the day of his arrest until five minutes before his arrest, and I learnt of it later on in the evening; he wanted to send for me, but was not allowed—his arrest took place in the early part of the week following the omnibus incident—this pencil note I produced at the inquest—I went with Inspector Harvey to Westminster Bridge Road last night and found there a telegram and a note with it, and this little memorandum on the back of a letter from a notable person to myself—it is rubbed, it had been in my pocket for weeks; it is the name and address of Matilda Clover in Lambeth Road—the telegram has nothing to do with the case; it is from the prisoner to myself.
Cross-examined. I have travelled a good deal, in America among other places in the world—I was introduced to the prisoner at Mr. Armstead's the photographer's—during the progress of our acquaintance we frequently discussed America and some prominent people there—he told me he had travelled in various parts of America—when we spoke about this blackmailing I believe I told him it was punishable with penal servitude—I acquired that legal knowledge in travelling about the world a good deal for forty years—I am an engineer out of employment—I will with the greatest pleasure write on a piece of paper where I was last employed and by whom. (The witness did so)—I may tell you I never thought I should be a witness against Neill—this refers to a firm of engineers in America, where I was working in January, 1891—I was not out of employment since then—I am not a detective—I have been a private inquiry agent in London and elsewhere, making inquiries for the British Government, in America and elsewhere—I told that to the prisoner—I mentioned the name of Le Caron to him—when I mentioned that I had conducted private inquiries for the British Government he naturally grew more confidential with me. Q.—And he told you everything you desired to know? A.—I did not desire to know anything; he told me this—I did not say I thought the matter should be put before the authorities—he showed me a photograph of young Mr. Harper, which he said he had stolen from Miss Sleaper's album—the more I wrote the more confidential he grew, he told me that Loo Harvey had dropped down dead in the street, poisoned at a music-hall—he did not tell me that three weeks after that alleged poisoning he had met Loo Harvey in Air Street and given her a drink—if he had told me that it would have done away with the poisoning story, and destroyed my interest in him—I have no claim against the British Government, nor against the late Home Secretary—no money was owing to me; I never told the prisoner it was—I was not anxious to get employment in the police force—I knew Mr. Soames—I have written to Sir Edward Jenkinson many times—he gave me a testimonial—I did toot recommend myself to him as an engineer or private inquiry agent—
I was introduced to him—it was not my ambition to obtain the position of inspector in the London or Liverpool police, or in any police—my conversations with the prisoner took place at the Cafe Paris, Ludgate Hill, and other places—I am always provided with pencil and paper—I openly jotted down everything—I have seen the prisoner on many occasions taking morphia and strychnine and opium.
PATRICK MCINTYRE (Police Sergeant Criminal Investigation Department). About the beginning of May I made the prisoner's acquaintance—I was introduced to him by Mr. William Armstead, a photographer, of Westminster Bridge Bead—he told me he was a doctor of medicine, that he had studied at St. Thomas's Hospital, and had been at Edinburgh and Dublin, and afterwards had gone to America—about 19th May he spoke to me about being followed, and asked me to make some inquiries—at that time I knew of no suspicion attaching to him—I made some inquiry, and saw Inspector Harvey and Chief Inspector Mulvaney about the matter—on 19th May we were in the Pheasant public-house, in the Lambeth Palace Road; I was waiting there until he went to his lodgings, 103, Lambeth Palace Road, to fetch his case and some letters, for the purpose of showing that he was a bonâ-fide commercial traveller—Inspectors Harvey and Mulvaney were with us—the prisoner produced his case and some correspondence and opened it; there was some conversation with regard to it, and then Harvey and Mulvaney went away, and I was left with the prisoner—he said to me that a few nights previously he had met a rip in the Westminster Bridge Road, who had informed him that she was sent after him by the police for the purpose of ascertaining who and what he was, as they suspected him in connection with the Stamford Street poisoning cases—that was the first mention of the matter by him—after that I was in communication with my superiors—on 24th May I went to his house at Lambeth Palace Road, midday, and he arranged to meet me that evening at 7.30—he did not keep the appointment, and I went to see him at eight in the evening—he had sent Miss Sleaper to say he could not keep the appointment, he was ill in bed—I found him in bed when I went at eight—he then said that about a week before the last inquest (that was the one upon Marsh and Shrivell) he was leaving his lodgings at 103, Lambeth Palace Road in the morning, when he was stopped in the street by a man who said he was a detective, and gave his name as Murray; the man questioned him as to Dr. Harper, and as to Dr. Harper's associations with women—he then produced a letter, addressed to Shrivell and Marsh, at Stamford Street, the letter having passed through the post—the purport of the letter was to warn the girls to be careful of Dr. Harper, as he would serve them as he had done the girls Clover and Harvey—I told him that I did not know any detective named Murray; I never heard of anyone of that name in the police service—I asked the prisoner to describe Murray—he described him as from 40 to 42, 5 ft. 8 in., or 9 in. high, wearing a dark cutaway coat, light tweed trousers, hard felt hat, dark whiskers, moustache, and beard, full grown, with straggling grey hairs—I asked the prisoner if he knew Clarke, or had ever written to anyone named Clarke; he said no—I said I had been instructed by my superiors to obtain a specimen of his writing—I took a sheet of notepaper from his table, which he pointed out to me, and I read to him a few words from the British Medical Journal, which was just lying by, and the prisoner wrote it at my dictation—this
is it; he sat up in bed and wrote it—this piece of paper which I took from his notepaper has, I find, the water-mark, "Fairfield, superfine quality"—the letter sent to Dr. Harper was shown to me by Inspector Tunbridge, it has the same water-mark. (MR. GEOGHEGAN said that he did not dispute the question of handwriting or water-mark)—I and the prisoner talked the poisoning cases all over, not the Marsh and Shrivell cases particularly—I said, "Doctor, you appear to be pretty well posted in these matters," referring to the poisoning cases; the matter at King's Cross was spoken of where a man was in custody or had been charged—the prisoner said, "Yes, I hare followed the matter closely in the British Medical Journal; being a medical man, I take an interest in matters of this kind"—I had never heard of Clover up to the time the prisoner said Murray had spoken of Harper, and said the girls would be served in the same way as Clover and Harvey—I did not know whether there was such a person as Harvey—I had never heard of those names till he mentioned them—I asked him if he would let me have a general statement as to where he had been since he had been in this country, where he had stayed at—he said he would do so if I called the following morning—I called the following morning, and found Miss Sleaper then writing this document as to his movements, in his room—I read it over in his presence, and told him he had not accounted for the date on which the Stamford Street poisoning case occurred—he said, "So soon as I get out of bed, and I am able to look up some dates, I will be able to fix my whereabouts at that particular time: but I think I was at Berkhamsted"—the next day I met him in the Lambeth Palace Road; he said, "I am going away to-day, at three o'clock; will I be arrested if I do so?"—I said, "I cannot tell you; if you walk across with me to Scotland Yard, I will make inquiries"—we proceeded together about half-way across Westminster Bridge, when he stopped and said, "I will not go any further with you; I am suspicious of you, and I believe you are playing me double; you sent a rip after me to meet me outside the British Medical Journal office"—I pointed out to him that was a matter of impossibility, as I was not aware he was going there—he walked with me as far as the corner of Stangate—he said he would consult a solicitor as to the annoyance caused to him by the police, being followed and so on, and he asked me if I could recommend him one, and I said no I could not, it would not be consistent with my position to do so—I made his acquaintance by accident in the first instance—I was one of the officers entrusted to make inquiries with regard to Loo Harvey, and I did so with a view of tracing the death and the body, and getting some traces of her—Haynes went with me and pointed out a house, 55, Townshend Road, where I made inquiries, but I could not succeed in finding any trace of such a person—I made other inquiries, and inquiries were made by the police, with regard to Loo Harvey—the only thing he showed me with regard to the Harvey's Drug Company was a letter in the public-house—he gave it to me open; I don't remember his mentioning the name of any person with whom he did business.
Cross-examined. I am attached to the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard—throughout the London divisions there are a number of divisional detectives different from Scotland Yard—information of any Crime in London would come first to the local police, and be forwarded to Scotland Yard—I do not know anything about
the divisional police—on (1st November I received a letter about Clover's death—I don't know whether that letter came from Scotland Yard—Tunbridge would know more about it than I know—I know Haynes, not as an ex-detective or a private inquiry agent—I first knew him as an engineer on board ship; he is a friend of mine—I asked him what he had been doing in America—he has been in the Home Office department, as a secret agent to make inquiries about suspected persons—I was connected with the dynamite case—the prisoner told me about Hurray stopping him in the street and telling this story; at first I did not believe it, I thought at first that some persons were trying to blackmail the prisoner—I spoke to Haynes about it the first or second week in May—I and Haynes had constant communications while the conversation between mo and the prisoner was going on—the prisoner knew that—I conveyed to Chief Inspector Mulvaney what the prisoner stated to me—I said I would make inquiries, and I introduced the prisoner to Mulvaney—Mulvaney was only once in his company, I was present then—I don't think poisoning was mentioned then—he told mo he was connected with the women who were poisoned; that was after the conversation with Haynes—I first heard from the prisoner about Loo Harvey—I presume Haynes mentioned it to me afterwards—the prisoner gave mo photographs—I will not swear that Haynes showed me one—I don't know what photographs he did show me, I don't know that he showed me any photographs—he may have done so—he has shown me photographs—I have met him in my official capacity, in a business capacity.
GEORGE HARVEY (Inspector L). I am stationed at Lambeth—I have had charge of the inquiries respecting the deaths of Ellen Don worth, Alice Marsh, Emma Shrivell, and Matilda Clover—I first heard of the death of Matilda Clover on 28th April of the present year—I first heard of the cause of her death after the prisoner's arrest, at Bow Street Police-court—he was arrested on 4th June, and taken to Bow Street—up to that time I had not heard any suggestion from anyone as to her death being caused by strychnine—I first heard of the letter to Dr. Broadbent at Bow Street, on one of the remands—the inquiry at Bow Street began on 21st July, and the commitment was on the 22nd August—the inquiry on 21st June was for blackmailing, when I first heard of the Broadbent letter—27, Lambeth Road, is in my division—the matter would be sent from Scotland Yard on to me as the local inspector in charge of the district; it was not forwarded to me. Q.—How was it you heard of Clover's death? A.—I had sent my officers to all parts of London to make inquiries of prostitutes, and Sergeant Ward made a report, and I went and saw Lucy Rose at 88, Lambeth Road—I took a statement from her relating to the circumstances of Matilda Clover's death—I also went to 27, Lambeth Road, and saw the landlady, Mrs. Phillips or Vowles—in consequence of information which I obtained from those persons I communicated with the Treasury, and an application was made to the Homo Secretary with a view to the exhumation of the body of Matilda Clover—the order was made on 5th May, and the body was exhumed on the 6th—up to the 27th April there had been no suggestion or suspicion with reference to the death of anyone of this class of cases except Donworth, Marsh, and Shrivell.
Cross-examined. I had heard nothing of Clover's case then; I knew
nothing about her—Waterloo Bridge Road is in my district—as you go down Waterloo Road from the Strand the station is on the right; Morpeth Place is on the left, almost immediately opposite the station—there is a large lamp at the corner—Morpeth Place is a place consisting of bad characters—going down the Westminster Bridge Road the Canterbury Music-hall is on the right as you go under the railway bridge; Gatti's Music-hall is on the left, within 200 or 300 yards of the Canterbury—I remember the death of Ellen Donworth on 13th October—she staggered, and fell in the road by the Lord Hill public-house, within thirty or forty yards of Morpeth Place—her death caused a fearful sensation in South Lambeth; it was called "The Lambeth mystery"—I was present at the inquest—a man named Slater was under examination in November—I am not sure whether he was under remand at the time of the inquest—I took some of the witnesses in Donworth's case to identify him; he was a tall man, with drooping shoulders and straggly beard, and there was a general worn out appearance about him; he was not stout; age about forty or forty-five; he had a peculiar look about the eyes—I don't know that he was tried before the Lord Chief Justice for attempting to poison a woman in a public-house—he was only seen by the witnesses at the inquest on Donworth on one occasion—they failed to identify him, and the Treasury retired from the case against him; he then went to Clerkenwell, and my division had nothing more to do with it.
By the COURT. Slater was a jeweller's traveller—he was not discharged by the Magistrate; he was tried here, I believe—I know nothing about it; only hearsay.
ALFRED WARD (Sergeant L). I had instructions to make inquiries relating to the deaths of Marsh and Shrivell, not as to Donworth specifically, but inquiries among that class of women—on 28th April I made a report to Inspector Harvey of certain information I had obtained the day previous, the 27th—up to that time I had not heard any suggestion of foul play in relation to Matilda Clover—on the 27th April I had an interview with Lucy Rose; that was the first and only occasion I had seen her, and the first occasion on which I heard anything about Clover—I went to see Lucy Rose in connection with the Donworth case; I was making inquiries generally among women in the district—I was specially engaged for that purpose in connection with this inquiry—I was told by her landlady, Mrs. Robertson, of 88, Lambeth Road, that she could give me some information that would bear upon the inquiry—she told me that on the 26th—the interview with Rose was on the 27th, and the report to Inspector Harvey on the 28th—until after the inquiry at Bow Street and the inquest I had never heard strychnine mentioned in connection with Clover—I first heard strychnine mentioned after Dr. Stevenson's analysis of the body.
JOHN BENNETT TUNBRIDGE (Inspector Criminal Investigation Department). On the 1st December, I believe, a letter reached the Criminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard, from Dr. Broad bent—upon that an advertisement was inserted about December 3rd, with Dr. Broadbent's sanction, in the Daily Chronicle, and observation was kept on Dr. Broadbent's house for two days, to see whether any person called in answer to the advertisement; no person called; beyond that nothing was done—the letter remained in the department; no inquiry was made at 27,
Lambeth Road, and no communication was made to the officer in charge of the L division—no inquiry was made about the girl Clover, not at Lambeth Road, not about Lambeth Road; no inquiry was made; the advertisement was inserted—I had nothing to do with it; the letter was looked upon as a letter from an insane person; other letters had been received of a very similar character, and inquiry had been made, and no one had turned up in relation to them—27, Lambeth Road is within a quarter of an hour's walk of Scotland Yard—we get a great number of letters of a wild character—nothing was done beyond watching at Dr. Broadbent's residence; it was thought the man would call there and be caught, and it was thought it was an attempt to extort money without any ground such as that stated in the letter—if a man had been caught I presume inquiry would have been made—I first received instructions to inquire into the South Lambeth poisoning cases on 26th May; those were the cases of Clover, Donworth, Marsh, and Shrivell, and the attempt at extortion contained in the letter sent to Dr. Harper—in consequence, partly of a complaint by the prisoner that he was being watched, I went on 26th May to 103, Lambeth Palace Road, and saw him there—Miss Sabbatini was present—I referred to the letter of complaint received from Messrs. "Waters and Bryan, and talked over the matter; the prisoner alleged that in consequence of the police having watched him about it had interfered with his business—I then spoke to him about his business and his presence in this country—he said he first came to this country in October last, that was October, 1891, to consult an oculist; that he was a doctor of medicine, and he had a practice in America; that some time ago he had a serious illness, and that the night calls did not agree with him, and that in consequence he had given up his practice—he showed me this medicine case—I noticed this bottle labelled l-16th grain strychnine—I said, "What are these pills composed of?"—he said, "1-16th grain of strychnine and the sugar coating only"—I said, "At that rate this bottle contains quite a large quantity of strychnine, and it would be highly dangerous that they should fall into the hands of the public in any quantity"—he said it was not intended to sell them to the public directly, but only to chemists and surgeons who would dispense them in their proper quantities—he did not say if he had sold any, or if he had any customers—he said he had taken up the agency in the previous February only, and that he had been travelling through Canada with them until he arrived in this country in April—on the 26th May I had no knowledge, and no suggestion had been made to me, that Clover had died from strychnine; I had heard her body had been exhumed—I first heard that her death was caused by strychnine about two days before the date of Dr. Stevenson's report—on 1st June I visited Barnstaple, and saw Dr. Harper and his son—at that time I had received specimens of the prisoner's handwriting from McIntyre and Mr. Priest, the chemist—upon that I applied, on 3rd June, for a warrant against the prisoner for sending a blackmailing letter—I executed that warrant at 5.25 on 3rd June, in the Lambeth Road—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest, and I read it to him—he said, "You have got the wrong man; fire away!"—I showed him the envelope in which the letter had been sent to Dr. Harper, and said, "This is what you are accused of sending"—he looked at the writing on the envelope and
said, "That is not my writing"—I took the letter out from the envelope and said, "This is the letter"—he made no reply—I took him to Bow Street, where he was charged; he made no reply to the charge, but he afterwards said, "Can I send to Messrs. "Waters and Bryan, my solicitors?"—I said, "You can wire them; I will get you a form"—he said, "I write nothing; you do it for me"—I sent the telegram—he was searched; nothing was found on him relating to these matters—I afterwards went with Inspector Harvey and McIntyre, and Miss Sleaper pointed out the things she said belonged to the prisoner; among them were this sample case; a dark blue overcoat and a dark grey overcoat; a large portmanteau and tin box, and other things full of clothing; I took possession of everything in the room that belonged to him—he was wearing a silk hat when arrested—I found two other silk hats there, and a soft felt hat—I found no brown coat with a cape, no brown overcoat, no flat-topped felt hat, no light suits, no gold watch—he was wearing a silver or metal watch—I found, in the chest of drawers in the room, this envelope, with certain initials and dates upon it—I found, in the fob-pocket of a pair of trousers belonging to the prisoner, this paper. (This was the paper with the address of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, 118, Stamford Street)—I also found two letters from the Harvey Drug Company, of 26th February and 6th May; a certificate of baptism of Thomas Neill, father's name, William Cream, dated 29th June, 1850—the inquest on Clover began on 22nd June, and the verdict was given on 13th July—on the 18th July I re-charged the prisoner with the wilful murder of Matilda Clover—he said, "What, in the Clover case?"—I said, "Yes"—the charge was taken and read over to him, and he said, "All right"—later on he said, "Is anything going to be done in the other cases?"—I said, "Not at present, I believe"—he said, "You will be sure and let me know if anything is to be done"—I was present at the inquest, when a communication was made to the prisoner as to whether he wished to be examined—he was then under arrest for sending the threatening letter—the Coroner told him he was at liberty to give evidence if he chose, and ordered the officer to hand him the book to be sworn; he at first refused to be sworn, but later on he took the oath, and gave his name—what he said was taken down on the depositions. (MR. GEOGHEOAN submitted that the Coroner's depositions would be the best evidence of what the prisoner had said. The ATTORNEY-GENERAL did not press tie point as to what had been said)—as a matter of fact, the prisoner gave no evidence.
Cross-examined. The Coroner's inquest took place at Tooting, in the Vestry Hall; there was a large number of jurymen; I am not sure if it was twenty-three—Mr. Gill appeared for the Treasury, and examined the witnesses—the Coroner called formal witnesses, I believe—the wit nesses were subpœnaed by the Coroner's officer—I believe I was the last witness Mr. Gill called before the Coroner—I mentioned before the Coroner that when I showed the prisoner the envelope, which I told him he was accused of writing, he said, "That is not my writing"—at that time the prisoner was under remand at Bow Street on the charge of sending that letter—he could have been examined and cross-examined in the Coroner's court, and the twenty-three jurymen and the Coroner and the Treasury counsel could have asked him questions—after my evidence
Mr. Gill said that was all the evidence he had been able to get as to the inquiries that had been made, and then the Coroner proposed to call the prisoner who was sitting between two warders, as the last witness; Mr. Waters objected—there were excited words between Mr. Waters and the Coroner—the prisoner said he was acting under legal advice, and declined to give evidence, or words to that effect—the Coroner said he had the right to administer the oath to any one in his court, and exercising that right, he called on the prisoner—the police, in addition to the ordinary telegraph wires, have wires radiating from Scotland Yard to every part of London—there is a private wire to Kennington Lane and every other police-station—I never received the letter from Dr. Broadbent—I first saw it on the day after the prisoners, arrest—the postmark on the envelope is S.E.—on 30th November the police had information and full particulars of Ellen Donworth's death—knowing that she died within a quarter of an hour's walk of the Lambeth Road, a wire was not sent to Kennington Lane—fault, if fault there be, rests with Scotland Yard—I know of no jealousy between the police of Scotland Yard and the other police in London—I was present at the police-station when Masters and May were called in to identify the prisoner—we cannot catch hold of people and bring them in from the street; we have to invite them to come in to assist at an» identification—the prisoner was placed among about twenty—we were some time trying to get in people from the street as near the prisoners appearance as possible; we were perhaps a quarter of an hour—I took a statement from Masters and May on 11th June, and they described the man they had seen at Gatti's Music-hall—the twenty persons were nearly all persons from the Court—many had silk hats on—none of them had a squint—we cannot pick and choose the people—most of them had moustaches, not all had brown ones; they were of all kinds—in a quarter of an hour I got twenty men all generally answering the description of the prisoner; not all bald—they were dresssed similarly to him—the prisoner knew a little time before that he was to be brought up for identification that day; probably half an hour before—I think his solicitor was present at the identification; I should not like to swear he was—the gaoler was in the room—when Masters failed to identify the prisoner with his hat on she went out and May came in, and May identified him—May and Masters were not together in the room when the identification took place—the prisoner was placed with twenty persons in the charge-room—Masters and May, with other persons who came to identify him, were placed in a small room off the charge-room, and that was the only time they were together, and that was before either was brought out to see if they could identify—when Masters was brought in on the second occasion, and just before she identified the prisoner with his hat off, the gaoler had not touched him on the shoulder and said, "Come with me"—the gaoler was standing in front of the row of men—it was not from an afterthought of mine that the persons took their hats off; it was from a communication made to me—they were about breaking up when Masters was brought back—I am sure the gaoler was not near the prisoner when Masters came in, and I am perfectly certain he did not beckon to the prisoner or do anything of the kind; he might have done so afterwards, but not when Masters was coming into the room—I don't know the prison regulations
about shaving—all the bottles I found at the prisoner's lodgings are here—I found several bottles, empty and full; they have been in my possession ever since, and are here—I find there is "opium" on that—there are a very few pills indeed in it—I found no morphia—this bean a label, "500 pills opium, one grain, dose 1 or 2"; it is nearly empty—I found no bottle containing opium in a liquid shape—this bottle is one third full; it is marked "500 pills Cannabis Indiex extract 1/2 gr., poison; dose 1 to 3"—they have all been analysed by Dr. Stevenson.
Re-examined, This advertisement was inserted only once in the Daily Chronicle, and that was on Friday, December 4th, 1891. (This was read:"Personal—M. Malone, call or send this morning to arrange, as in your letter of 28th ult.—B."
FREDERICK SMITH JARVIS (Inspector). On 16th June this year I was instructed to go to America in reference to this case; I left on the 18th—in consequence of a communication from the police authorities in America I communicated with the witness McCulloch, and it was at my instance that he came to attend this inquiry.
LAURA SABBATINI . I live in Chapel Street, Berkhamsted—in November last I made the acquaintance of the prisoner—I remember his leaving for America early in January—prior to that date I became engaged to be married to him—I received this letter from him in reference to that engagement—it is dated 1st December—before leaving he made his will—he said it was a will that he could not revoke; he left it with me on his going to America—this (produced) is it; it gives all his property to me—he gave me his address, if I was to write to him, "Daniel Cream, Quebee, Canada"—I wrote to him there at Blanchard's Hotel, Quebee—I corresponded with him during his absence—I had a number of letters from him which I destroyed—that was my act; I used not to keep his letters.
Cross-examined. I am not in the habit of keeping letters—while I knew the prisoner he was in the habit of taking large quantities of opium—when we have been walking together he has gone into a chemist's to get opium for the relief of his head.
WALTER DE GREY BIRCH . I have been for twenty-seven years employed in the MSS. Department of the British Museum—I have had experience in the comparison of handwriting—I have frequently been consulted as an expert in these matters—I have examined the documents produced in this case as admittedly in the handwriting of the prisoner—comparing them with the letter to Dr. Broadbent and the envelope, I judge them to be in the handwriting of the same person. (The documents with photographs of the same, were put in and handed to the Jury.)
THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL proposed to give evidence of the death of three other women by strychnine, and the attempted administration of poison to a fourth, and to connect these acts with the prisoner; to prove his possession of strychnine; to show that strychnine was the cause of death: as evidence of identity; of motive; to negative suggestion of mistake or accident, and to show that the prisoner understood the nature and quality of his act. He cited the following authorities:—R. v. Geering, 18 L. J. (M.C.) 215; R. v. Winslow, 8 Cox C. C., 347; R. v. Garner, 4 F. and F., 346; R. v. Cotton, 12 Cox C. C. 400; R. v. Roden, 12 Cox C.C., 630; R. v. Hesson, 14 Cox C.C., 40; R. v. Higgins and Flannagan, 15 Cox C. C., 403. MR. WARBURTON submitted that the proposed evidence was inadmissible, because it was not relevant to the issue, and because it formed the subject-matter of other indictments
against the prisoner. Whilst accepting the general propositions as laid down by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL, he contended:—That the facts in the present case were altogether different from those in the cases cited, in all of which cases the accused had lived under the same roof with the deceased persons, and had admittedly prepared the food by which they were poisoned; that strychnine was a common drug, to which all doctors and chemists had access, so that the possession of strychnine by the prisoner was not an exceptional circumstance; that evidence such as that proposed could only be used to negative an obvious defence of accident, such defence not being possible in the present case, and that it was equivalent to trying the prisoner on several indictments at the same time, and could only have the effect of prejudicing the case against him. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL having replied, MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS was of opinion that he must admit the evidence; what the weight of it might he was another question. As to its admissibility, he entertained no doubt, and therefore he should not reserve a case.
LOUISA HARRIS . I am known by the name of Loo Harvey—I am living now in Stamford Street—in October last year I was living at 44, Townshend Road, St. John's Wood, with a young man Charles Harvey, under whose name I passed—between 20th and 24th October, 1891, I was at the Alhambra one night; I fix the date because Harvey, who had been an omnibus man, left that employment on 13th October—the prisoner spoke to me at the Alhambra that night—after leaving the Alhambra I met him outside St. James's Hall, in Regent Street—he came up and touched my shoulder, and asked me to go with him, and we went to an hotel in Berwick Street, where we passed the night—he told me he was a doctor at St. Thomas's Hospital, and came from America—he said he-was going back again, and would I accompany him back—he asked my name, and I told him it was Loo Harvey, and he asked my address, and I said 55, Townshend Road—I made a mistake in the number; the proper number was 44; I did it quite by mistake—I had lived just a week at St. John's Wood—the prisoner was dressed in a flat topped hard felt hat, and a black overcoat—he had an old-fashioned gold watch, and spectacles—he had no beard; he had a moustache—the top of his head was bald—he was cross-eyed—on the next morning he said I had a few spots on my forehead, and he said he would bring me some pills to take them away—we parted, and he told me to meet him, at half-past seven, on the Embankment near Charing Cross station, the same evening, to give me the medicine, and afterwards take me to a music-hall—he asked me where I would like to go; I told him the Oxford Music-hall—I told him I was a servant; that was not correct—I told Harvey about the pills or medicine—accompanied by Harvey I went to the Embankment, near the Charing Cross station—I saw the prisoner waiting there for me—I left Harvey in Northumberland Avenue; he followed me, on the opposite side of the way, to the place of meeting—I said to the prisoner, "Good evening; I am late"—I asked him if he had brought the pills; he said, "Yes"—he said he had had them made in the Westminster Bridge Road—he invited me to have a glass of wine; I asked if I should take the pills first; he said no, not till afterwards—we went to the Northumberland public-house, which is close to the Embankment, and had a glass of wine—in the public-house he bought me some roses from a woman who came in—we then came out and walked back towards the Embankment—the prisoner then
said he could not go with me to the music-hall that night, because he had an appointment at St. Thomas's Hospital at nine o'clock, and he should be kept there till half-past ten—he told me I was to get in a cab and go myself, and meet him at eleven outside, and we would go and spend the night at the same hotel—he gave me some figs, and told me to eat them after I had taken the pills—it was a quarter or ten minutes to eight when I reached the Embankment, and then we went to the Northumberland Arms and walked back to the Embankment—the prisoner took two pills out of his waistcoat pocket, they were wrapped up in a piece of tissue paper; they were long and rather narrower at one end than at the other—in shape and size they were something like this capsule (a 4 gr. capsule), but they might have been a little longer—they were white, as near as I can tell; it was rather dark—they were a light colour—he gave them to me and said I was to take them; he said I was to put them in my mouth then and there, one by one, and not "bite them, but swallow them—he put them into my right hand, I pretended to take them, putting my hand to my mouth and pretending to swallow them, but I passed them into my left hand—the prisoner asked me to show him my right hand—I showed it to him—then he asked me to show him my left hand in which I had the pills—I threw the pills away behind me, and showed him my left hand—he questioned me no further, but gave me 5s. then for my seat in the music-hall, and wanted to put me into a cab—I said, "No, I can get a cab myself"—he went away towards St. Thomas's Hospital, Westminster Bridge—as he was leaving he said, "Meet me at eleven"—I met Harvey at the corner and made a statement to him, and then I went to the Oxford Music-hall—at eleven o'clock I went outside to look for the prisoner; I waited till half-past eleven; he did not come—within a month afterwards I saw the prisoner standing at the corner of Piccadilly and Regent Street—I went up and spoke to him; he did not appear to recognise me—I did not stay with him long; he told me he would meet me at eleven that night outside the St. James's, Piccadilly—before making that appointment he asked me to have a glass of wine, and we went to a publichouse in Air Street—as we were leaving the public-house I said, "Don't you know me?" as he did not seem to recognise me—he said, "No; who are you?"—I said, "You promised to meet me outside the Oxford Music-hall"—he said, "I don't remember; who are you?"—I said, "Loo Harvey"; and upon that, he did not speak, again, but walked sharp away—that was the last occasion I ever spoke to him; I saw him again in the Strand about a fortnight or three weeks after going to Air Street with him—he was then walking with a young lady—I don't think he saw me then—my attention was called to the report in the paper of the inquest where my name was mentioned; and I then communicated with the Magistrate, Sir John Bridge, and Inspector Tunbridge came to see me, and took a statement from me—I was afterwards examined at the inquest and at Bow Street—the prisoner was not dressed in the same way when I met him on the second occasion as he had been on the first.
Cross-examined. When I met him on the first occasion it was at night, and on the second occasion it was broad daylight in Regent Street—I am not in the habit of going to the Alhambra—I do not go to a music-hall in the evening as a rule—I have not been to the Alhambra within the last month; it was an exceptional thing for me to go there—I did not
say before the Magistrate that it was on 20th October I first met the prisoner; it was between 20th and 24th—I and Harvey have been living together sometimes since this matter, not all the time—I have talked to him about it and he has shown me dates in a book—I did not, before I saw the dates in the book, say I thought it was 20th—when I met him in Regent Street I brought back to his recollection that I was alive; I said, "I was the woman you went with to such and such an hotel"—I told him that plainly and he did not believe it; he did not look at me, he turned and walked away—we had had a glass of wine—it was between four and five—I could not see the capsules plainly—I was standing under a lamp in the street; I could see they were light ones—I had some spots on my forehead.
CHARLES HARVEY . I am by trade a painter—I formerly lived at Brighton—in October, 1891, I and Loo Harvey lived together at 44, Townshend Road—in that month Loo Harvey made a statement to me one morning—she had passed the night before away from 44, Townshend Road—it was somewhere about 20th or 21st October; I could not say for certain—I fix the date because it was a week after I had left work on the omnibuses, and I left about 13th or 14th—I produced my book before—the last entry in my book is on 16th October, so that it was within a week of that—I left the 'bus work on 16th October—in consequence of the statement Leo Harvey made to me in the morning, I accompanied her the same evening to the Embankment—when we got near there I walked down one way, and she up the other; we walked in opposite directions on the same side—I saw her meet someone on the Embankment—I had then turned back again, and when she met him I was within a few yards of them—I watched them; I saw them go to the Northumberland Arms—I followed them there, and saw them go in—I did not address either of them—I saw them come out and walk towards the Embankment—I followed, and when they stopped on the Embankment I was on the opposite side, the width of the Embankment from them—I have since seen the man at Tooting and at Bow Street; he is the prisoner—they stood talking for a few minutes, and then I saw him hand Loo Harvey something—I was not near enough to see what it was—soon after he left her, and walked towards the Westminster Bridge Road, and then she joined me—she made a statement as to what had taken place between her and the prisoner—she parted company from me at Charing Cross.
CHARLOTTE VOGT . I live at 118, Stamford Street—on 22nd March this year Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell came to lodge at my house, occupying two rooms on the second floor—they let themselves in and out, and there was a bell to the floor on which their rooms were—about four p.m. on Monday, 11th April, I saw Marsh, and about half-past six I heard Shrivell speaking—I went to bed that night about eleven o'clock, and the house was all quiet then—at half-past two a.m. I was awakened by a screaming outside my door—in the passage I saw Marsh, who was screaming, and appeared to be in great agony—I sent my husband for a cab and a policeman—I then heard Shrivell screaming upstairs for "Alice"—going up to her room, I saw her on the floor at the foot of the sofa, leaning against the sofa—she appeared to be in great agony—I spoke to her, and she answered me—then I heard Marsh screaming again below—I went down to her, and found her lying on her stomach in the passage, and her body twitching
as if in great pain—that continued to come on and pass off and then come on again—I spoke to her, and when the twitching was not in operation she spoke to me; she was quite conscious—I asked her a question, and she answered it—my husband came back with a cab and with the police, and the girls were carried after a little while and put into the cab and taken to the hospital—I first tried to give them an emetic; some mustard and water—they were carried out of the house, and I never saw them alive again.
GEORGE CUMLEY (211 Z). On the night of 11th April, 1892, my beat included the west aide of Stamford Street—I should go off duty at six next morning, on the 12th—118, Stamford Street is on the west side, on which I was—I was passing along that west side on the early morning of the 12th, about a quarter to two, and I was about a dozen yards from No. 118, walking towards it, when I saw a man come out of No. 118; he was let out by a young woman—I saw her then, and I saw her afterwards when I helped to take her to the hospital; it was Emma Shrivell—I would have described the man as about 5 ft. 9 in. to 10 in., dressed tin a dark overcoat, 45 to 50 years of age, with a high silk hat—as he turned by the street door I saw, by the reflection of the street lamp, that' he had glasses; he had a moustache, no whiskers—the lamp was on the same side, and opposite the door of 118—the street is about as wide as this Court—he walked away rather smartly, but it was a cold morning—later that same morning I was called in to 118, Stamford Street—about 2.30 I saw a four-wheel cab drive up to 118—I saw Eversfield carry Shrivell into the cab; Eversfield spoke to me—I went into the passage—I found Marsh lying over the seat of a chair with her face downwards—I carried her into the same cab that Shrivell was in—Eversfield went with the two girls to the hospital in the cab, and I rode outside—we both put questions to Shrivell, who made a statement—Marsh died on the way to the hospital—I made a report as to the man being let out—I was afterwards instructed to make a written report—I made it on the 14th—I knew nothing then of Neills existence—after this occurrence I was on the look out for a man, such as I had seen coming out of 118, from the 16th April—on 12th May I was standing alone in the Westminster Bridge Road, outside the Canterbury, between seven and eight p.m.—I saw the prisoner walk up and down four times—I saw how much like he was to the man I saw at 118, Stamford Street—I did not then know of Dr. Neill, or of any suspicion attaching to him or anybody in connection with Matilda Clover—I made a statement of it to Sergeant Ward—Ward made a report—I have no doubt it was the prisoner I saw in the Westminster Bridge Road—the man who came out of 118, Stamford Street was like the prisoner in stature, height, and general appearance—he had glasses—he was not dressed the same; he was walking towards the Lambeth Palace Road, which is about a mile from Stamford Street, through York Road, but there are many intermediate places he might have been walking to—he was dressed in a short coat in the Westminster Bridge Road—in Stamford Street in a dark overcoat.
Cross-examined. I saw the man go from Stamford Street towards the Waterloo Road—I went down a turning—I lost sight of him—he might have gone down the Waterloo Road or along York Road, and down the Westminster Bridge Road, or the Lambeth Palace Road—I have my report
of the 14th—it is not unusual to see persons leave Stamford Street in the early morning—when I was outside the Canterbury the performance was going on—women were going in—the man was looking at the women sharply—that excited my suspicions—Ward sent to me after that—I had seen Neill that night more than once—Ward was at the corner of the York Road and the Westminster Bridge Road—that is between 200 and 300 yards from the Canterbury—Ward and I had a conversation—that was about 11.30.
Re-examined. This is the report I made—I first saw Neill between seven and eight—I did not see Ward then—I spoke to the man outside the Canterbury, who calls the cabs, about the prisoner—I saw the prisoner that time for about half an hour—then he went away—I again saw him about 11.30 at the corner of the Lambeth Palace Road and the Westminster Bridge Road—I saw Ward then—Neill was standing at the corner of a public-house on the other side of the road—in company with Ward I followed the prisoner home with a woman to 24, Elliotts Row, St. George's Road—we waited till they came out—they separated at the corner of the Lambeth Palace Road—Neill went to 103, Lambeth Palace Road—Ward and I followed and saw them go in.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I do not know the woman's name, nor where «he walks—I have not seen her lately—I have seen her once since.
WILLIAM EVERSFIELD (194 Z). On 12th April, about 2.30 a.m., I went to 118, Stamford Street—I saw Marsh and Shrivell as described——Shrivell made a statement at the hospital—Marsh died in the cab—Shrivell was up in the front room on the second floor, lying on a sofa on her face—I gave her an emetic and then took her to St. Thomas's Hospital—Marsh was lying on her face in the passage—Marsh never spoke—they seemed to go into convulsions from time to time—Shrivell was sensible in the interval, Marsh was not. (MR. GEOGHEGAN objected to Shrivell's statement, and it was not read.)
DR. CUTHBERT WYMAN . I am a medical practitioner—I was house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital,—on 12th April about three a.m. I was at the hospital when Marsh and Shrivell were brought in—Marsh was dead, Shrivell was suffering from tetanic convulsions—she showed all the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—I gave her an emetic, and afterwards chloroform—she died about eight the following morning—I made a postmortem examination afterwards—I found no organic disease to account for death—the stomach and viscera of each girl were sealed up in a jar and handed by me to George Hackett, to be conveyed to Dr. Stevenson.
GEORGE HACKETT . I am post-mortem assistant at St. Thomas's Hospital—on 16th April Dr. Wyman gave me three sealed jars to take to Dr. Stevenson—I handed them to Dr. Stevenson in the same condition as I received them.
Thursday, October 20th.
DR. THOMAS STEVENSON (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). On the 16th April, 1892, I received from the witness Hackett three jars, properly secured and with unbroken seals—under instructions from the Home Office I carefully examined and analysed the contents—one jar was labelled "Alice Marsh," that contained a stomach, kidney and liver—I proceeded in the ordinary way to test whether there was strychnine; firstly, by the colour test; secondly, the alkaloid test; and thirdly, by taste—I also tried the same tests in the case of Matilda
Clover, and in all those tests I got the characteristic taste of strychnine—I adopted the best known modes of testing for strychnine; I took extraordinary precautions in the Clover case, not expecting to find strychnine so long after death—my life has been spent in these studies and pursuits—I am prepared to give the weights and quantities—in the contents of No. 1 jar I found 6.39 grains of strychnine—there was nothing to suggest a cause of death except the strychnine—I arrived at the conclusion that death was so caused; I had no doubt after hearing the symptoms—I should like to add that I found a further portion in the liver and kidney, making in the whole 6 3/4 grains—in the vomit of Emma Shrivell I found 1.46, that would be nearly 1 1/2 grains; in the stomach and its contents 1.6 grain, and 2 in a small portion of the liver and one kidney; that quantity would represent 3¼ grains in the whole, much more than a fatal dose—there was nothing in that case to account for death except the presence of the strychnine—after hearing the symptoms I came to the conclusion that that was the cause of death.
Cross-examined. I was in Court and heard the evidence of McCulloch.—ulphate of zinc is crystallised; its crystals are clear and glassy, while those of strychnine are opaque—to an ordinary observer they would look, very much alike, but a very slight observation would distinguish the difference; one is a clear glassy crystal, the other is white and opaque. (MR. GEOGHEGAN handed to his Lordship a question in writing which he proposed to put to Dr. Stevenson; it was handed to him, and also to the JURY, but was not publicly put)—I do not know the origin of the theory alluded to here; it is a matter of common medical knowledge in this country; it is supposed to have come from America—in the case of Marsh and Shrivell I received the articles on the 16th; that was the day before Easter Sunday, within about four days of the death—I commenced my post-mortem examination within three days of the death—I got a very visible quantity of strychnine from the two bodies—there was a great difference between the post-mortem in those cases and in Clover's, both in colour and quantity, obtained from the bodies—in the case of Clover I got in the portion extracted from the liver the characteristic taste of strychnine, which is extreme bitterness—other things besides strychnine have extreme bitterness, but I do not think I could mistake the bitterness of anything except brucine for strychnine—science, like law, sometimes makes mistakes.
Re-examined. In strychnine there is a distinct peculiar metallic bitter, which is a well-known and distinctive character.
ALFRED WARD (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). In searching the room of Shrivell and Marsh I found the four pieces of paper which, have been produced; these are they; they contain names and addresses—I have had from Constables Cumley and Eversfield a description of the man said to have left 118, Stamford Street on the morning of 12th April; that description was given me on the day following the event—at that time I had no suspicion, nor had my attention been drawn in any way to the prisoner—on the night of 12th May I was in Westminster Bridge Road, and my attention was drawn to a man, whom I saw there walking up and down, by his similarity to the description given to me by Cumley and Eversfield—I kept watch on him; he was watching women as they passed him by, very closely, especially those having the appearance of prostitutes—I was alone at the time my attention was first attracted to him—I sent for Cumley, and he made a statement to me and I to him,
referring to the man, and we continued to keep watch upon him—I saw him go away with a woman to a particular place—I waited till he came out, and walked in the direction of Westminster Bridge Road, leading to Lambeth Palace Road—after that date I was aware that the police kept observation of the prisoner; I was in charge of the observation—up to 12th May I had never directly or indirectly any knowledge of who the prisoner was.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. The prostitute whom he went away with has been seen alive up to the Wednesday following—there is no suggestion that any dose was given to her.
MARGARET ARMSTEAD . I am the wife of William Armstead, a photographer, of 129, Westminster Bridge Road—Haynes came to lodge at our house in March, about Easter, 1892—I think I made the prisoner's acquaintance through his coming to be photographed—he there made Haynes's acquaintance, and they became intimate—in May, when the prisoner was at our house, I became aware that some observation was being kept on our place, and in the presence of the prisoner I called my husband's and the prisoner's attention to the fact—the prisoner said nothing then, but I went to have some refreshment with him, and at the place we went to he pointed to a person, and asked me if he was one of the men who was matching the house, looking through the bar at the end of the room—I said I could not see from the distance at which we were sitting—the prisoner said on that occasion, "What a dreadful murder it was in Stamford Street!"—I said, "Yes, it was terrible; they ought to be hanged, whoever did such a thing"—I asked him if he knew the girls, that was Marsh and Shrivell—he said knew them well, they used to solicit up at the bridge of an evening—I cannot remember seeing the prisoner in a square-topped hat—at the time of this conversation the Marsh and Shrivell cases were a good deal talked about.
Cross-examined. It was the common talk of the neighbourhood—it was through us that the prisoner first became acquainted with Haynes—I might have told the prisoner Haynes was an ex-detective, or else my husband may have done so, I don't know—I believe Haynes said something about paving been a detective—I believe my husband told the prisoner that Haynes had been a detective or engaged in detective work—I don't know whether the bridge he mentioned would be Westminster or Waterloo.
JOHN M. JOHNSON . I am assistant to Dr. Lowe, the medical officer of the South Lambeth Medical Institute—on the evening of 13th October I was sent for to 8, Duke Street, where I saw a woman described as Ellen Donworth, a woman of the unfortunate class—she was suffering from tetanic convulsions, such as would be caused by the administration of strychnine; she had all the symptoms of it—I considered her very bad; she was in a dying state—I ordered her to be taken to the hospital—I heard afterwards that she died on the way.
THOMAS HERBERT KELLOCH . I was house physician in October last at St. Thomas's Hospital—on the night of 13th October the body of a woman called Ellen Donworth was brought to the hospital; she was dead when I saw her at the hospital—there was nothing external to account for death—I afterwards post-mortem examined her—I found nothing at all to account for death then—I afterwards analysed the contents of the stomach, and found there the presence of strychnine and morphia—I also made a quantitative analysis of part of the contents of the
stomach, and I was able to extract an appreciable quantity of strychnine—I estimated it was a quarter of a grain in the contents of the stomach alone—I formed the opinion that the cause of death was poisoning by strychnine—I have no doubt at all about that.
JOHN P. HAYNES (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). On one occasion I was in the prisoner's room at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, when he showed me an ordinary memorandum-book, a quarter inch thick and the size of a sheet of note-paper—I had it in my hand, but I cannot describe it—he called my attention to some initials and dates—I cannot remember where the note-book was taken from—the prisoner said something to me about it—I asked him the meaning of the initials—he told me they were the initials of the girls poisoned by Dr. Harper, and the dates were those of their respective deaths—I never spoke to Tunbridge or anyone about the fact—I called no attention to it.
LAURA SABBATINI (Re-called by MR. GILL). The prisoner visited me at Berkhamsted on three occasions—upon the first occasion, 8th April, I think, I introduced him to my mother—he went back on 9th; he came again on the Wednesday after Easter Sunday, the occasion lie went to church with me—he stayed one night, I think—the third time he came on Saturday, 80th April, and stayed until Tuesday, 3rd May—on the occasion of that third visit he asked me to write some letters for him—I asked him why he wanted me to write them—he did not give me any reason; I do not recollect exactly what he said—I don't think I asked him more than once—he dictated some letters to me—this (marked F) is one (Read: "London. May 2d, 1892.—To Coroner Wyatt, St. Thomas's Hospital, London. Dear Sir,—Will you please give the enclosed letter to the foreman of the coroner's jury on the inquest on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, and oblige yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray.")—I wrote the address on the envelope—I wrote this letter to the foreman of the coroner's jury: "London, May 2, 1892. To the Foreman of the Coroner's Jury in the cases of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell. Dear Sir,—I beg to inform you that one of my operators has positive proof that Walter Harper, a medical student of St. Thomas's Hospital, and a son of Dr. Harper, of Bear Street, Barnstaple, is responsible for the deaths of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, he having poisoned those girls with strychnine. That proof you can have on paying my bill for services to George Clarke, detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, to whom I will give the proof on his paying my bill.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."—This other letter I also wrote at the prisoner's dictation, and the envelope also: "To George Clarke, Esq., Detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, London, May 4th, 1892. Dear Sir,—If Mr. Wyatt, Coroner, calls on you in regard to the murders of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, you can tell him that you will give proof positive to him that W. H. Harper, student, of St. Thomas's Hospital, and son of Dr. Harper, Bear Street, Barnstaple, poisoned those girls with strychnine, provided the Coroner will pay you well for your services. Proof of this will be forthcoming. I will write you again in a few days.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."—The prisoner took these letters, and envelopes away with him—when I wrote the letters I asked him if he had that evidence—he said a friend of his had it, a detective; he did not mention his name—I asked him why I should sign the name of Murray
—he said that was the name of his friend—when I asked him what he knew of this, or of Murray, he said he would tell me all about it some day—he went back to town that night.
MR. BIRCH (Re-called by MR. GILL). Among the letters in the admitted handwriting of the prisoner was the one addressed to Dr. Harper, of Barnstaple—this is it—it is, in my opinion, in the handwriting of the prisoner, and the envelope enclosing it—I also compared the memorandum, with initials and figures, produced by Inspector Tunbridge, with the handwriting of the prisoner, and in my opinion it is undoubtedly the same handwriting; also the letter and envelope to Coroner Wyatt, relating to Donworth.
INSPECTOR TUNBRIDGE (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). I searched the prisoner's rooms on the day of his arrest; I took away everything belonging to him as told me by Miss Sleaper—it would be my duty carefully to examine the things and see whether they threw any light on the matter—I have all the things here, with the exception of certain things which I returned to the prisoner's solicitor—I see by my list I returned five books, one entitled "A Handbook of Therapeutics"—they were printed books, medical works—there was one pocket-book, perfectly new, with no entries at all in it—if there had been any note-book with any entries in it it would have been my duty to examine it, and I should have retained it—there was no such book.
GEORGE RENDALL . I am the secretary of St. Thomas's Hospital—in October, 1891, and from that time down to April and May, 1892, there was no person of the name of Dr. Neill or Cream connected with the hospital, so far as I know—it is usual for any gentlemen attending the hospital to register their name with me—there was no such person registered with me—I do not know the prisoner as in any way connected with the hospital; nor did I ever see him to my knowledge until I saw him here—I know the doctors and surgeons connected with the hospital and their names—there was a doctor of the name of Cream some years ago, but he has not registered with me—so far as I know there was no person of that name connected with the hospital between October, 1891, and June, 1892—the usual course would be to register the name with me—it sometimes occurs that old students may be attending without registering with me.
INSPECTOR HARVEY (Re-called). The verdict of the Coroner's Jury in the case of Marsh and Shrivell was on 5th May, 1892—that inquest began on 13th April—the inquest on Matilda Clover began on 22nd June and ended on 13th July—in the Donworth case the inquest began, I believe, on 15th October, and ended on 22nd October.
Cross-examined. In the case of Marsh and Shrivell it was thought at first that death was from fish poisoning—there were two hearings—it was at the first hearing that strychnine was mentioned as the probable cause of death.
MR. BIRCH (Re-called). This letter to Mr. Frederick Smith is in the prisoner's handwriting, and the envelope also.
The COURT and the GRAND JURY highly commended the conduct of Inspectors Tunbridge, Harvey, McIntyre, Sergeant Ward, and Constables Cumley and Eversfield.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
963. HENRY ARCHER (35) and THOMAS KING (40) , Being found with another person unknown armed with bludgeons, stones, and other offensive weapons, and did, with another person unknown, enter upon land called Coombe Wood, in the occupation of His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, for the purpose of ensnaring game. Second County Assaulting George Turner. Third County Assaulting Michael Honour.
GEORGE TURNER . I am assistant gamekeeper to H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge—Coombe Wood is his private property—on Sunday, 7th August, about 1.30 a.m., I was watching the preserves with two other keepers—I saw the prisoners and a third man whom I have not seen since—they were on one of the shooting rides—I came out of my hiding place and confronted King—I said, "Holloa, what have you to do here?"—he struck me in the mouth with his fist and then across my arm with this oak bludgeon—I seized him—we fell on the ground together, and on the ground I was kicked and knocked about by all three men—King called out to the man not in custody, "Break his bleeding arm" several times—I either received a kick or a stone struck me in the hip; I believe it was a stone; all of them were throwing stones as fast as they could—I blew a whistle—that brought the head keeper and two police, and the prisoners were taken—the third man, directly he saw the police, ran away—they all had bludgeons similar to this—on the way to the station at Maldon King said, "if. the police had not come we should "have settled them"—at the station the netting and sticks produced were taken from the prisoners' coat under-pockets—the nets are about 200 yards long—they are used for snaring game and rabbits—this stick was found in the ditch—the small sticks produced found in their pockets are used for fixing the nets.
Cross-examined. The shooting ride is a path about sixteen feet, wide, leading to and from gentlemen's houses, and is private—it was moonlight—I saw the prisoners' faces clearly sideways—King said, "Break the bleeder's arm," or "Break his bleeding arm"—I said at the Police-court, "I heard one of the men call out, Kill this bleeder,' the man that escaped called out, 'Shoot them, shoot them, break their arms'"—my arm, ribs, and hips were bruised, the result of the kicks and the stones which were thrown while I was struggling with King—I was not attended by a doctor.
Re-examined. There is no right of way along the shooting drive—it is only used for shooting.
MICHAEL HONOUR . I am a watchman in the service of H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge—I was with Turner in Coombe Wood on 7th August, about 1.30 a.m.—I saw the prisoners coming along the shooting drive with another man—I heard Turner say, "Holloa, what are you doing here?"—I seized Archer, who struck me in the face and blacked my eye and caused my nose to bleed—we fell and struggled on the ground Archer jumped on me with his knees—one of them during the struggle said, "Shoot the b——s"—the third man, when Archer called out, beat me about the head with a stick—I could not seethe stick at the time, but I felt it was a heavy one—I was struck on the head six or seven times—Archer called to the man not in custody while I was holding
Archer, "Break his arm"—the third man kept on striking me on the left arm, bruising it very badly—we rolled in the ditch, and Archer got my finger in his mouth and severely bit it—I have the scar now at the top joint of the second finger—I was nearly insensible when two police and the head keeper arrived, and could hardly stand—I was struck in my back with a stick or a stone just before I went in the ditch—when the third man saw assistance come, I saw him run away—I went to a doctor and had my finger dressed—I was bruised about the head and. arms, and was deaf for nearly three weeks, and have not yet quite recovered my hearing.
Cross-examined. Three were on the watch—I am positive it was Archer who called out, "Break their arms"—I spoke first—I said, "What are you doing here?" or words to that effect—I believe Turner used similar words—I seized Archer by his neck handkerchief—I held him as tight as I could—one called out, "Shoot them!" I could not say which—I saw no firearms—t heard none.
Re-examined. When asked what they were doing neither of them replied before the struggle commenced.
FREDERICK WITNEY . I was with the two last witnesses when the prisoners came along the drive—Turner went out and said, "Holloa," and King struck him—King struck me on the side of the head with this stick—the other two men had sticks—when Turner closed with King I ran after the third man into the wood, when the whistle was blown—I did not catch him.
GEORGE WELLS . I am head keeper to H.R.H. the Puke of Cambridge at Coombe Wood—I have known the Duke to possess that property for the seventeen years I have been head keeper there, and as under keeper for three years before that—finding poaching had been going on I put on extra men to watch on the night of the 7th August—I was watching about 300 yards off—about 1.30 a.m. I heard Turner's whistle and dogs barking—I saw two lurchers fly at the keepers' legs in the struggle—when I got there first I saw King struggling with Turner on the ground, and Archer and Honour in the ditch—I saw Archer kick at Honour and get his finger in his mouth—when Honour pushed his head on one side, a stone whizzed past my head—Archer called out, "Shoot them, Jack; bring the gun and shoot them"—Honour said, "A good job you have come, I was close upon done, I am nearly pumped out, they have almost broke my arm, and they must have, split my head open"—he was bleeding from the mouth, nose, and ear—I got him out of the ditch—he pressed his ear, and congealed blood oozed from it—the two constables, Turner, Honour, and Witney went to the station with the prisoners, and I took men and searched the wood to find the other man—I did not catch sight of him—the same morning we found this bludgeon where Archer had been lying when struggling with Honour—on some "stubbs" of wood, which were very sharp, there was blood and hair in two places—I did not notice any blood on the stick.
Cross-examined. I did not see or hear any gun—I saw the policemen take the nets and the small sticks out of the prisoners' pockets immediately after the struggle—one net was laid on the ground—I also saw these wire snares found on Archer.
in consequence of which I went with another constable into the wood—I found Archer and Honour struggling in the ditch—I passed Turner struggling with King—I secured Archer; he had Honour's fingers in his mouth—I got Archer out of the ditch; he struggled violently for some time; when he got quiet I searched him—I found on him this net. on the inside of his coat, and these small sticks in his left-hand coat pocket—these snares were in his outside pocket, also these five large stones—on the way to the station Archer said, "I should have polished the lot off if you had not come up"—there were two lurcher dogs.
Cross-examined. After the struggle the prisoners were in a bad condition—Archer's head was not stitched; he said he would rather anything than that—his head was dressed.
AMBROSE DODSON (383 V). I was with the last witness, and saw Archer straggling with Honour, and King struggling with Turner—I seized King—he had this stick in his hand—I took it away from him—I pulled him off Turner—I searched him—I found this net, also this stone in his pocket, and five of the small sticks—as soon as he saw my light, he said, All right, I'll give in," and "If it had not been for you we should have settled them."
GUILTY **— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted; MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Defended Kemp, and MR. SANDS Defended Neal.
GEORGE THOMAS SMITH . I am a traveller, employed by Mr. Williamson—on 20th of July I took out a large quantity of jewellery in a phaeton, of the value of about £4,000, amongst which was a quantity of: high-priced watches, the numbers of which appear in this book—the book is made up by clerks, and checked by me as I receive the watches—Manley a coachman, accompanied me with the phaeton—about 12.40 we drove up to the Dover Castle in the Westminster Bridge Road—I left him, having given him instructions to meet me at Hind's, a jeweller's—he afterwards came and made a statement to me—I communicated with the police—I saw the van, which had been discovered by the police later in the day, empty—looking at it in this book, which I chocked, I find opposite blue crosses these entries: 327, 517,534,401 and 105 (which are our stock number), 688, 15,431, 60,983 (the movement number to which is 16,108)—the movement number to No. 1 is 18,301.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I am still employed as traveller by Mr. Williamson—Samuel Hall is a watchmaker and traveller.
ARTHUR MANLEY . I am a coachman—I have been employed by the prosecutor four years—I was driving this phaeton on 20th July—after Smith left me, I went to Pearce's coffee-shop at the end of the road—I put the nosebag on the horse, and asked a shoeblack to keep his eye on it—I was away three minutes—when I went back the phaeton was gone.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. The shoeblack said he saw two men get on it.
ALFRED WARD (Sergeant L). I received information of the robbery of this jewellery within two hours afterwards—in consequence of information received, on 27th August I kept observation, with other officers, on the prisoners—upon 19th September I saw them in King William Street—about 2.45 p.m.—Sergeant Gray and I caught hold of Kemp simultaneously
—I said to him, who is known as Bill, "We want you, Bill, for being concerned, with other persons, in stealing and receiving a large quantity of jewellery amounting to £4,200, the property of Mr. Williamson, of 81, Farringdon Road, on the 20th July last, in the Kennington Road"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—he became very violent, and with a determined effort thrust his right hand into his right-hand vest pocket—Gray struggled with him, and took possession of the contents—we got him into a four-wheel cab—he was taken to the station—on being searched we found this watch (exhibit No. 1), a jeweller's balance for weighing, a jeweller's stone for testing metals, and £26 10s. in gold in this leather purse, and this pawnticket of Smith and Dymond, of 19th September, and this contract with Sanderson of 12th September, both relating to gold watches—I asked Kemp for his address—he said, "You know my address very well 40, St. John Street Road, Clerkenwell"—I went there with Sergeants Gray and Thick—in a bedroom and workshop combined, under a chest of drawers, I found these two gold watches (marked 2 and 3); this silver watch in a drawer of a table used as a jeweller's bench, and seven pawntickets in an envelope on the top of the drawers—these three, two of which are contract notes of 14th, 16th, and 19th September, refer to the prosecutor's watches—I also found a large quantity of jewellery and thirty-seven silver and thirteen gold watches, seven gold chains, two silver chains, two pins, coin pendant, gold brooch, ten diamond rings, and other articles—we returned to the station, and Gray told Kemp what we had found.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. The officers Gray, Thick, Brogden and Smale were at the arrest—a third man was taken, charged with another offence, unlawful possession of goods—the Magistrate discharged him—Gray and I struggled with Kemp because he is a big man—the three men were arrested simultaneously as the result of a raid pre-arranged.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. I have not known Kemp as a working jeweller—I found in his place the works of about 1,000 watches—nine out of fifty of the watches found are identified as stolen—not all that we found is charged in this indictment—these eight watches are all that we have at present recovered out of the £4,000 worth stolen—Kemp gave his address voluntarily; it was correct—we went there at once.
Re-examined. I did not find at Kemp's any punching or engraving tools.
FREDERICK GRAY . I was with Ward and the other officers on 19th September—I seized Kemp, who became very violent, and rushed his right hand into his right-hand trouser pocket—I got it out—he immediately rushed it into his, waistcoat pocket—the prisoners were then put into cabs and taken to Kennington Road Station—I kept observation on Kemp's house—I found this watch and chain in Kemp's pocket—the chain was attached—I also found upon him four other gold watches, two gold chains, two gold pencil-cases, one pearl ring, brooch and cross, eight diamond rings, one silver watch, £22 in gold, and seven £5 Bank of England notes—I then accompanied Ward to the address Kemp had given—I found some property in his presence—when I came back to the station I showed him the watch and chain, and said, "This has been identified by Mr. Hall as stolen"—he said, "Why, I have only just bought it at a sale"—I said, "Who did you buy it from?"—he said, "I do not know his name"—I said, "Would you know him if you were to see him again?"—he said, "No"—I said, "What about the two watches
found under the drawers in your bedroom?" and I showed him the gold watch marked "3," identified by Mr. Hall—he said, "I know nothing about that, I never put them there"—he was charged, and he made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. Five officers were present at the arrest—we did not rush upon them; we had had them under observation for weeks—Kemp struggled to get away—I had to tear his waistcoat pocket trying to get his hand out—some of the watches identified have been in the custody of pawnbrokers.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. We have taken the watches about to get them identified, but have always been with them—when out of my custody they have been under lock and key in the charge of an inspector—we found some insides of watches like this produced at Kemp's place—I never saw one there with a label attached—I saw Mr. Hall after we had searched the house and come back.
HARRY SMALE (Detective L). I was with the other officers on 19th September—Sergeant Brogden and I took Neal—he took something out of his pocket, which Brogden took hold of, a watch and chain, and said, "What have you got there?"—Neal made no reply—Brogden handed it to me—he was taken to the station—I said, "Are you going to tell me where you got that watch from?"—his reply was, "What do you think, governor?"—I searched him—I found nothing relating to the charge, only a sovereign—he made no reply to the charge—he gave an address in the Hornsey Road—I went there.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. We searched his lodgings—we found nothing relating to the charge—the prisoners were arrested at the same time—there was a struggle—the officers were all in plain clothes.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. I know there is an auction mart in Great Charlotte Street, Blackfriars Road, Farrells; also Johnson and Dymond's, in Gracechurch Street—I do not know Layman's—I have not seen Kemp attending those places.
Re-examined. I know Mr. Farrell—I knew Neal by sight, not to speak to.
WILLIAM ATTWELL . I am an assistant to Smith and Dymond, pawn brokers, Newgate Street—I produce gold watch No. 4, pawned on 14th September for £10, in the name of Wright, by Neal—I identified Neal at Lambeth from nine or ten persons.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. It has the maker's name on the works, which I have examined—it is a London-made watch—I said at the Police-court I would not swear to Neal—I fancy he is the man who pledged it, but I will not swear it—I had been at the Police-court, but had not seen Neal in the dock before I identified him—he was dressed as he is now—I could not speak as to his beard—the other persons from among whom I identified were also respectably dressed—not all so neatly as Neal—I identified him from the recollection of his face and looking fair and young—I have had great experience of pawnbroking—we prefer to lend on articles likely to be redeemed, not more money, but what the article is worth—unredeemed pledges are sold by auction—we sometimes do not realise what we have lent on them—if pledged by a dealer as an unredeemed pledge we should scrutinise it, but still lend on it according to its worth.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. The value of the watch is £15 to £18.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I was taken to the station to identify the person who pledged the watch, from persons of average height and dress.
HENRY ARTHUR SIMES . I am assistant to Mr. Amhurst, pawnbroker, of Edgware Road—I produce gold watch No. 7, pawned on 16th of September for ten guineas, in the name of W. J. Edwards—I identified Neal from seven or eight men as the person who pledged it—I asked him, when he pledged it, for his address, and he gave me this card ("W. J. Edwards, Leather Merchant, 69, Lorrimore Road, Walworth").
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I believe Neal is the man; I do not swear to him absolutely—I was taken alone to the back of the Court to pick him out from other men; a mixed lot—after I identified him I saw him in the dock—I gave a description of him before I went to the station—the watch is English make, and stamped 18 carat—it is possible to pawn a watch bought in the auction of unredeemed watches for more than was given for it—pawnbrokers are shy of dealers if they know them—we should lend what it was worth; we should examine it carefully.
CHARLES BAILEY . I am assistant to Edward Sanderson, a pawnbroker, of Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—I produce gold watch No. 8, pawned on 12th September for £12—this is the contract note—I was afterwards taken to Lambeth Police-court, where I picked out Neal from a number of men as the person who pledged it.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I only say to the best of my belief Neal is the man—the works in the watch are English—unredeemed pledges are sometimes sold for less than pawnbrokers have advanced on them—I do not know that we should be shy of a dealer—we should be careful in every case before we lent money.
SAMUEL HALL . I am employed by the prosecutor as traveller—I am a watchmaker of twenty years' experience—No. 1 is manufactured by P. and A. Guye, of Farringdon Road—we are their sole agents—it bears the mark of the man who made the gold case—I can tell Guye's make at a glance without a glass—it bears the name of B. Arnold, of Baker Street—No. 2 was made by myself—is has the name on it of "Dent," of the Strand—we should engrave a plate for the person who was going to sell the watch—the names of Dent and Arnold are not put on by us—No. 3 is a Swiss watch, and formed part of our stock, numbered 51,642—apart from the number I recognise it as one of our regular lines—the chain attached to No. 2 belongs to Mr. Williamson—it is stamped "H. W. "on the swivel and on the bar—No. 4 is also a watch of my own make, and the case bears our stamp, "H. W."—No. 4 bears the name of E. D. Johnson, of Wilmington Square, Clerkenwell, an extinct firm—the works are new—No. 5 is a centre-seconds watch, especially made for us by John Richardson, of Coventry—it now bears the name of Adam Vurdess, of Coventry—Richardson would not put that name on, he supplies the plate perfectly plain—No. 6 I made myself; it bears the name of an extinct firm,
Lumb and Blockley, of Pall Mall—No. 7 was made by P. and A. Guye; it now bears the name of Campbell, Cheapside—No. 8 I made myself; it bears the name of George Oram and Son, Wilmington Square, Clerkenwell—these watches bear indications of their numbers being erased—No. 1, case number on outer cover, 8301; on dome, 18301; each I has been prefixed or added—the 8 and the 3 have been altered—I believe the original number was 370—No. 2, outer cover and dome, 15808; I has been prefixed, 8 and 0 have been altered; the original number, I believe, was 534 or 537—No. 3, no alteration has been made in the number, 51642—No. 4, outer cover and dome, 16172, the end figures have been added; original number, 517; the 5 has been altered to 6—No. 5, dome, 24102; 24 have been prefixed; the original-number would be five figures, but I am unable to say what; there is a space between the 24 and the three last figures, which would admit of one figure having been there—No. 6, outer case and dome, 18882; the I has been prefixed, and the two added; the first 8 was originally 6, making the original No. 688; No. 7, outer cover and dome 16,108, the I is prefixed and the 8 added, originally 600, the 0 having been altered to 1; No. 8, outer cover and dome 1823, I has been added, the original No. was 327; No. 7 has now also a movement No. 16108, there has been no alteration; No. 8 has also a movement No. 1823; these numbers were never engraved on the top plate; this 1823 has been altered underneath where it was stamped, the original number was the same as the case number; No. 1 has a movement No. 18301, it never had that originally—when a watch is given to a traveller the movement number is very slightly scratched on the watch—the same applies to No. 7—I can swear to them—all the watches which pass through my hand have a number scratched on, which the gilding would possibly obliterate.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. Our business is a very large one; we turn out about 8,000 watches a year, but they go all over the country—they may be pawned, not by us—the alterations in the numbers are very evident—my sight is not good—they are observable to a person of ordinary sight without a watchmaker's glass—four of those watches have our stamp on all the plates, bars, and so on of the interior—it is not our custom to engrave numbers on watches of the class of 1 and 7—we reserve that for the retailer—the custom of numbering is very varied—the number stamped on the works would have to do with the case number on four of the watches, and the Coventry make, but not on Nos. 1 and 7—the movement number may or may not be the same as the case number in general practice—I can instantly tell watches of my own make—there is as much difference between watches as between one human face and another.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. Williamsons make as well as import watches—Swiss watches are numbered on the cases—there are three numbers—the movement number would sometimes appear on the works, but more often it would not appear; on fine watches it would appear—in most watches the numbers would be stamped underneath the works—I have taken to pieces to examine some of these watches—those made by myself and one other—the 18882 [No. 6], repeated on various parts of the movements several times, is an altered number, and was originally 188—I took No. 6 to pieces, also No. 2—the same remark applies to both—generally the number had been altered in the movement
of those I took to pieces in the same way as on the cover—in most cases of alteration there is a difference in the size of the figure—in others it is not so plain, and you require a glass, and I do not say that an ordinary person would discover it—my name does not appear on the watches—of the property stolen I have only identified these—I have seen other property not ours.
Re-examined. The initials "H. W." appear stamped on the case of the four watches I made.
JOHN VANDOME . I am a patheological assistant, of 3, The Woodlands, West Green, Tottenham—this silver watch is my property; I value it at £3—I last saw it on 14th August—I lost it getting into a 'bus at Gracechurch Street.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. There is no number—a scratch number has been put on by a watchmaker—I am not aware when it was altered.
Cross-examined by MR. SANDS. I give my cards away in the way of business.
ALFRED WARD (Further Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS). The first hearing of this case was on 19th September; there was a remand to the 27th, and another to the 4th October, when the prisoners were committed—I then asked for a remand, in which you concurred, but Mr. Biron committed the prisoners.
By MR. SANDS. I believe Kemp frequented sale-rooms—he was arrested near Dymond and Johnson's, where watches and jewellery, etc, are continually sold—I know Farrell's—they also have sales.
Re-examined. I have seen Mr. Farrell here to-day.
GUILTY of Receiving. NEAL then
PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in February, 1888**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
KEMP* PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in July 1875—he was stated to be an extensive receiver of stolen property, and defacer of the names and numbers on watches in order to destroy their identity.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
965. CHARLES NOTTINGHAM (24) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, after a conviction of unlawfully uttering on 16th July at Guildford.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
966. CHARLES FOSTER (16) and THOMAS STAINER (17) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Frank Groom, with intent to steal, Foster having been previously convicted at Newington. FOSTER— Nine Months Hard Labour. STAINER— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
PARHAM PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. RICHARDS Prosecuted.
JULIA BOON . I am sub-postmistress at 15, Battersea Rise—the prisoners have lodged in my house since February—early in August I missed three half-guinea postal orders and three ten-shilling ones—the prisoners had access to my room for the purpose of cleaning—I checked the orders on August 31st and missed seventy—I checked them on the previous Saturday also, and took them out of the office and put them into my bedroom—the prisoners occupied one room down two nights of stairs from mine—I know these six postal orders by a postal-mark on them; they are some of those I missed—the majority are in my writing, but some are in my sister's—when I missed the seventy I communicated with the postmistress at Wandsworth—I gave the prisoners notice, and they left on August 29th—I went with Mr. Skinner to a house in Battersea, and saw Parham downstairs, and when I got upstairs I saw Phillips sitting just outside the bed, and she told me to go away, and said, "What do you want?"—she picked up some papers to put them in the fire, but I caught her by her wrist and called a constable—I took two postal orders from her hand, which have the address of my office and my name, but is not the stamp of my office; it is a forgery—this is not my signature; it is a forgery.
Cross-examined by Philips. I am not aware that you have ever been, seen or heard near the place where the orders were stolen from—there were seven other people in the house—Miss Baker lives with me, but on the Sunday in question she was in bed, and her door was shut—you went out at night—my sister was wrong in her accounts, and said that she had paid a person £10 instead of £5—she is eighteen years of ago, and has had a good education—the note was missing on Monday, but my orders were upstairs in my room on Monday—my brother never helped there, nor was I 19s. short—Mrs. Young, my grandmother, lived with me—the orders were in your hand, and I took them from you; I cannot say whether they were in an envelope; I did not know that they were orders till the detective told me—you tried to put them on the fire.
ALFRED HENRY LESLIE . I am a die-sinker and stationer in Brompton Road—on September 1st the two prisoners came into my shop, and Phillips wanted an indiarubber stamp made—I drew a ring and said, "Do you want a stamp like that?"—she said, "Yes, that is it"—I said, "What do you want it for?"—she said, "I travel a great deal; I have just come from Buenos Ayres, and every place I am at I have to stamp my letters"—I said, "I don't think this can be made; I can make you an oval stamp"—she said, "I will let you know"—she ordered a date stamp to be made like this (produce d) but much smaller—it was to have a movable date; she wanted a double elephant on the round stamp—I said, "If you were at Brighton you could stamp any letters you pleased by putting in the type for Brighton"—she said, "Yes"—she gave me her name, Mrs. Stewart, Golden Gross Hotel—on the afternoon of September 2nd I received this letter, purporting to come from the Golden Cross Hotel. (Stating that the round stamp would be too expensive.)—I answered that letter by this one (Stating
that it was too late to stop the stamp, and that the price was 2s. 6d.)—that was delivered by my partner with the stamp—I would not make the round stamp, as I suspected it was for an improper purpose—in this one the screws could not be used to screw up the type—this is the paper the sketch was drawn on; this is the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. I think you asked for violet ink for the pad—I was only to supply the letters—it is very uncommon to order a round stamp to imitate a postmark—I thought you wanted it for some improper purpose, and did not make it.
ANNIE PEARCE . I am engaged at the Golden Cross Hotel, Charing Cross—the two prisoners stayed there, and had a double room in the name of Mrs. and Miss Stewart—I understood the elder one to be the aunt.
EMILY PALMER . I am clerk in charge of the post office, Queen's Parade, Clapham Junction—there is no one named J. Green in the office—there are four clerks—no one named Green has been there since I have been there.
JOHN HILL SKINNER . I am employed in the Secretary's office, G.P.O.—the loss of these postal orders was referred to me, and in consequence of information I went on 1st October to 9, Meyrick Road, Battersea, and saw Parham and told her she had been seen to cash four of the postal orders, and asked if she could account for the possession of them; she said, "I shan't say anything about them, nothing at all"—I asked if she had a niece; she said that she had nothing to do with it—to the best of my belief the stamps on these eight orders are not genuine—I believe they were drawn by hand by the aid of carbon paper.
WILLIAM HEATH BUTLER . I am employed in the confidential department—on 30th September I followed Parham from 30, Meyrick Road, to the post-office, Battersea, and saw her examine some postal orders outside, and go in and change them—I got them from the office directly she went out.
JOHN SCOTT (Constable G. P. O.). On October 1st I went to Meyrick Road, Battersea, with Mr. Skinner—Miss Boon called me into a room, and I saw her 'struggling with Phillips for some papers, which I got nold of—they were in this envelope, there were eight orders—I found a card box with this letter of Mr. Leslie in it, close to the bed—I found £10 on Phillips and 3s. 6d. on Parham—Parham said, "She knows nothing about it; I did it myself"—Phillips said nothing.
Cross-examined by Phillips, The landlady told me you had been in bed for three weeks—I found one certificate of your good character—you said that you received the money in your purse from South America—I have not made inquiries and found that to be correct—the landlord said that you had not been out of the house since you had been there.
Re-examined. I inquired at the hotel, and found that they had not paid their bill—they had been there ten days; something was paid, but they left £3 8s. in debt.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Parham says. "I picked up the orders and had them stamped, and passed them myself."Phillips says. "I had nothing to do with it except attempting to burn the orders."
Phillips' Defence. I wrote to Mr. Smith and asked him to attend, but he is not here. There is no proof that I had anything to do with
stealing these orders. Do you think it possible that I could get up three flights of stairs, and pass a door which was always open, and go into a room and steal these orders? I had nothing to do with the forgery. The stamp I had was dated "June," and none of these orders are stamped June. It has not been proved that I had anything to do with passing any of the orders. As regards my signing my name "Stewart," I was married to Dr. Stewart in America, and after being married eighteen months I found he had committed bigamy, and I left him and lived with my aunt. It is not because she has committed a crime that I have had anything to do with it. I have been in the habit of receiving money from America.
PHILLIPS GUILTY of receiving — Eight Months' Hard Labour.
PARHAM— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. KIDD Prosecuted.
THOMAS GEORGE BIRD . I live at 2, Gable Cottages, Southwark Bridge Road—on 2nd October, between 11 and 11.30 p.m., I was in Hill Street, walking under an archway, and heard footsteps behind me; somebody caught hold of me behind, I was thrown down and could not halloa; but when I got up I found my watch was gone, and I saw four men running away—I started halloaing—I had seen my watch and chain safe not two minutes before—a constable came up—P saw my watch and chain at the station—I do not recognise the prisoner; I saw nobody's face.
Cross-examined. There was a Jubilee shilling on the chain—I did not say that money was taken out of my pocket.
THOMAS EVESON (Police-Sergeant M). On October 2nd I was in Gravel Lane, about fourteen yards from Hill Street, at about 11.45 p.m., with another constable, and heard cries of "Murder," and saw the prisoner running from the direction of Hill Street and up Gravel Lane in the direction of us—he had to round the corner; we drew back into the shade, and he ran a little further towards us, and then doubled back; we gave chase and caught him; I said, "What is the matter"?—he said, "Nothing"—I said, "What are you running for?"—he said, "Nothing"—I took him back to the prosecutor, who said he had been robbed by four men, but could not identify anyone—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found this watch and chain in his coat pocket; the chain is broken in three pieces—when the charge was being taken he said, "I caught it"—the inspector said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "The others threw it to me, and I caught it"—he doubled back, and ran forty yards; he was wearing indiarubber shoes.
WALTER MOUNT (146 N). On Sunday, October 2nd, I was with Eveson in Great Suffolk Street, Borough, about 11.45—we heard cries of "Murder!" and saw the prisoner running—when he saw me he ran back about forty yards—I took him, and asked him what he was running for—he said, "Nothing"—I saw a watch found in his pocket at the station.
Cross-examined. You did not give the watch up; it was taken from your pocket at the station.
watch and chain before I got to the station—I said I would let him go if he gave it to me and paid the expenses—he did not show me the watch, but he said he would give it back to me.
Prisoner's Defence: I went out for a walk on Sunday night with a young woman; they asked her to take the watch—I said, "No, give it to me," and I took it.
GUILTY of receiving. He then
PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at the Surrey Sessions in February, 1891.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
971. GEORGE WILLIAM PARKER (27) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for £3 2s., also an order for £1 2s., also another order for £1 2s., also an order for £1 9s., with intent to defraud— He received a good character.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
972. WILLIAM COOMBE (45) , to two indictments for wounding Alice Elizabeth Coombe and Rosetta Maria Coombe, with intent to do them grievous bodily harm.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
974. FRANCIS RIDGEWELL (35) , to five indictments for forging and uttering receipts for £6 4s., £11 8s., £1 0s. 6d., 4s., and £2 11s. 6d., with intent to defraud. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] He was also indicted with ALICE RIDGEWELL (25) for obtaining a concertina from George Beardmore by false pretences, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, and Mr. H. AVORY offered no evidence against
ALICE RIDGEWELL.— NOT GUILTY .
975. HENRY HOAD (37) , to feloniously marrying Mary Amelia Marshall, his wife being alive.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor. Discharged on recognisances.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and ELDRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. PAUL
After the opening speech, the prisoner in the hearing of the JURY desired to PLEAD GUILTY to unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child, upon which the JURY found her
GUILTY.— Discharged on recognisances.
Before Mr. Recorder.
980. THOMAS BARROW** (27) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Thomas Inman, and stealing cigars, after a conviction at this Court on March 3rd, 1890. (See page 1,316).— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HUTTON Protected, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted.
MENA ALICE LILYWHITE . I am the wife of Henry Lily white, who keeps the Prince of Wales, High Street, Plumstead—on September 4th, about 12.30, the barmaid and I went round and saw everything safe, and went to bed—I slept with her—she awoke me and said that somebody was going downstairs—she called out and so did I—I heard footsteps—I could not find my clothes, they had been misplaced and my money was gone, it had been between the pillow and the bed—I heard a man go out and followed him, and passed him, and saw two men going at a greater pace—I went back to the house, put on some further clothing, and went back, but saw no one—I went out again and saw the prisoner coming out of a garden a long distance off—I took hold of him and said, "You are the man who has got the money"—he said, "Will you let me go if I give it to you?"—I said, "No, where is it?" he said, "In the bag"—he struggled dreadfully with me, and hit me and made my eye black—Miss Gladskin came up and a tall man—the prisoner was carrying a crutch—I took my bag from his pocket, and the money was safe, but £1 in copper and my keys were missing; I have never found them—the moment I took the bag, he rushed across the garden—he was taken to the station and charged.
EMMA GLADSKIN . I am barmaid to the prosecutor—on the night of September 4th, I was sleeping with her and heard footsteps in the bedroom, and somebody at the foot of the bed; I raised myself up and saw something under the man's arm—I called out, and went out and saw him in the passage—I afterwards looked out at the window, and saw that he had a crutch—I saw Mrs. Lilywhite take her bag of money from his pocket—he struck me very violently on the side of my face—I had seen him in the public-house on the Saturday afternoon.
WILLIAM ANDERSON . I work at the Arsenal—on September 8th, about four a.m., I was walking along High Street, Plumstead—the barmaid called me, and I went up Palace Road after the prisoner, and saw Mrs. Lilywhite following him; she snatched a bag out of his pocket and he struck her—I took him at 5.10 and held him till 6.30—he
struggled and bit my finger, and struck me with his crutch; I asked a man to take it from him, and then he hit me with his fist.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "That money was my own; I am not guilty."
GUILTY .—He was further charged with a conviction at this Court on October 22nd, 1888.
THOMAS HAND . I was not present here on 22nd October, 1888, but I knew the prisoner undergoing a sentence offive years' penal servitude for burglary—this is the certificate of his conviction. (This was for burglary after a previous conviction of burglary,) He had fifteen months remitted, and had been out four days.
GUILTY.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted:
The JURY returned a verdict of guilty of indecent assault; but as the prosecutrix had not given her evidence upon oath, not understanding its nature, the RECORDER informed the JURY that this verdict could not be given, as under the Criminal Law Amendment Act it was necessary that the girl's evidence should be given upon oath, therefore her evidence must be discarded, and he directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY.— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, NOVEMBER 14TH, 1892.
The following Prisoners, upon whom the sentence of the Court, was respited at the time of Trial, have since been sentenced as under:—
Vol. cxvt. Page Sentence.