CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 13TH, 1893.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Vol. CXIX 1893-94
Sess. I - VII
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
AND CASES COMMITTED UNDER THE WINTER AS SIZE ACT AND ORDERS IN COUNCIL,
Held on Monday, November 13th, 1893, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. GEORGE ROBERT TYLER, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir GAINSFORD BRUCE, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir CHARLES HALL , Q.C, M.P., K.C. M.G., Recorder of the said City; GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Esq., Lieut.-Col. HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., and JNO. POUND, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and 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.
JOHN VOCE MOORE, Esq., Alderman.
JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Esq., Alderman.
CLARENCE R. HALSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
TYLER, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners hive 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.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 13th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
2. JOHN DIXON COWLEY** (40) , to three indictments for stealing portmanteaus and their contents, from railway stations, after a conviction at this Court on March 6th, 1893, in the name of Richard Webber.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months Hard Labour. And
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ALICE PERRIN . I am barmaid at the Sun Dial, Goswell Road—on 27th October I supplied the prisoner and another man with drink, price 3d.—a florin was tendered—I put it on the till where there was no other, and gave the prisoner the change—I afterwards saw him speaking to Mr. Hartnell—I looked at the coin afterwards, but said nothing to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have seen the prisoner's friend this morning; I do not know his name—that is the man (Archibald Smith)—I saw the prisoner put the florin on the counter—I was close to Mr. Hartnell, and, if he had done anything remarkable, I should have noticed it—the prisoner said he got the silver in change for a half—sovereign, and he knew where he got it—he was in the house about half an hour.
By the COURT. I saw him tender a second florin—Mr. Hartnell took it up, and said it was bad—if the prisoner had done anything I should be sure to notice it.
HENRY BISHOP HARTNELL . I am barman at the Sun Dial Public-house—on 27th October I served the prisoner with two glasses of ale, which came to threepence—he put a florin on the counter—I saw it was bad because it was not clear, and it was white, but no word was
spoken—he put his hand on mine, grabbed at it, took it from me, and said, "It is good"—I said, "It is not,"—he said that he got it in change for a half—sovereign—I spoke to Miss Perrin, and received a florin from her.
Cross-examined. The prisoner said he wished the police to be sent for, and produced a card, but I did not look at it—I don't know whether I told the Magistrate that he said it was good before I suggested that it was bad.
FREDERICK PANK (Policeman). I was called to the Sun Dial on October 27th, and saw the prisoner and several others in the bar, and two florins lying on the counter—the barman said that the prisoner had uttered the broken one—I looked in the till, and found another bad one, which the barmaid said she had taken from him a few minutes previously—I said I should take him in custody—he said, "All right; I know where I got it."
Cross-examined. I found on him a London Compositors' Society card, and I know that he is a member of that society, and that he was at work at the Charterhouse Press that afternoon—he did not say where he changed the half-sovereign.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ARCHIBALD SMITH . I am a compositor, of 31, George Street—on this day I was working with the prisoner at the Charterhouse Press—he received a half-sovereign, a five—shilling piece, and 1s. 3d. in copper—we then crossed to the Sutton Arms, where he changed the five-shilling piece, and we had two half—pints of mild and bitter—I then went with him to see Mr. Freestone, the Father of the Chapel—3s. was paid to him—we then went to the Hat and Feathers and had some food and drink, and later on at the Marquis of Lorne—we were there twice, and the second time he put down a half—sovereign—from there I went with him to the Sun Dial; we were there about three—quarters of an hour—when he was told the money was bad he put his back against the bar and said he would not go till he had had it inquired into; he did not attempt to escape.
Cross-examined. I went to the Police—court, but when I got there the case was over and the prisoner was let out on bail—I saw him tender the second florin and I did not hear any remark about it—I did not see the prisoner make a grab at it—he did not pay for all the drink; I paid for some and he for some—there was no tossing.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
as a customer—on October 5th, about eleven a.m., he called for some rum, and gave me a sixpence—I tested it; it broke—I gave it back to him, and asked him where he got it—he said he did not know—he paid, I think, with coppers—I afterwards saw him in custody on another charge.
The prisoner. I deny being there; I was bad with rheumatic gout at the time.
ALICE MAYNARD . I am barmaid at the Lord Cecil Public-house, Clapton—on October 9th, about 9.30 a.m., the prisoner called for half a pint of ale, and gave me a shilling—I told him it was bad—he made no answer—I took it to Mr. White without putting it in the till—I returned with him to the bar, and he showed the prisoner the coin, and told him it was bad—he did not produce any good money.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I have been in the house twelve months, and have seen you in and out during the last fortnight.
THOMAS WHITE . I keep the Lord Cecil—on October 9th the last witness showed me a coin—I found it was bad, and went into the bar and showed it to the prisoner—he said he took it at the Greyhound, Lea Bridge Road, the previous day—I sent for a constable, and gave him in custody, with the coins—he did not attempt to get away—I have been landlord four years, but only remember the prisoner's face three or four weeks previous to the 9th.
THOMAS BILLINGTON (403 J). On the morning of October 9th I was called to the Lord Cecil, and found the prisoner there—Mr. White said that he had passed a shilling over the counter, which he believed to be Counterfeit—I asked the prisoner where he got it; he said at the Greyhound Public—house, Lea Bridge Road, on the Sunday—I took him to the station, and found 4d. in bronze on him—Mr. White handed me this bad shilling—the prisoner said that he slept at Stratford at a common lodging—house—I asked him the name of the house; he said, "I don't know"—Stratford is four miles from Hyde Park Corner.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that he did not know the coin was bad.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
CHARLES SMITH (35 H). On October 11th, about two p.m., I was on duty with Phillips, in plain clothes, in High Street, Shoreditch, and saw the prisoner and another lad going from one stall to another—the other went into Mr. White's house—the prisoner stood outside till the other one rejoined him—the prisoner took something like a small packet from his right trousers pocket, and handed it to the other—we lost sight of them for about a minute, and when I turned a corner the prisoner was standing outside a public—house by himself—I said, "What was that you took out of your pocket?"—he said, "I have got nothing; the other man has got them, he has gone across the road; you can search me"—I put him into the public—house doorway, and he threw a little packet from his right hand; it fell inside the door, and I saw Fox pick up two half—crowns and a small piece of paper
which they had rolled out of—I said to the prisoner, "Where did you get these?"—he said, "A man gave them to me to hold, I never saw him before, and I do not know where he lives"—I took him to the station, and returned and saw Fox pick up another half—crown near the same spot—the prisoner gave his address 34, Raymer Terrace, Leyton—I found he did not live there, but his sister does.
STEPHEN FAKES (173 H). I was with Smith, and saw the prisoner throw the packet down—I picked up the coins, and about twenty minutes afterwards picked up a third and the paper—I handed the coins to Smith and saw them marked—these are them.
The prisoner in his defence stated that the parcel was given to him by a man, who got paid for working for the detectives.
GUILTY .**— Six Months Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, November 13th and 14th, 1893.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Defended.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Month's Hard Labour.
9. FRANK YOUNG (31) , to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Luisa de la Cuesta a picture and other articles, and from Edward Stanton a ring and £3 10s., with intent to defraud; also to stealing two tin boxes and other goods, the property of Ada Downing.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude. And
10. MATTHEW MARK LAWRENCE (28) , to embezzling £1 1s. 4d., the moneys of his masters, Henry O'Brien and others; also to conviction of felony in August, 1892— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT—Tuesday, November 14th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
12. ERNEST HERBERT HARRISSON SMITH (25) ,. to stealing a cheque—book, the property of Vesey George McKenzie Holt and another, his masters; also to forging and uttering a letter of credit for £100; also to forging and uttering a cheque for £50, with intent to defraud.He received a good character.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
13. HORACE RICHARD EVE (20) , to stealing cheques for £6 6s., £2, £2 10s., and £4, of James De Oreland, his master; also to three indictments for forging and uttering orders for £6 6s., £4 7s. 6d., and £17 18s., with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and the evidence was interpreted to the Prisoner.
ALFRED JAMES . How I am manager to Peter Harris, a tobacconist, of 55, Gracechurch Street—on October 27th the prisoner came in and said, "Cigarette," nothing more—I took out a packet and opened it—he took two—I said, "That will be twopence; you had better take the box of ten for sixpence"—he said, in English, "All right," and tendered me this sovereign—I turned it over, and said, "Where did you get this sovereign from?"—he said, "My governor"—I said, "Who is your governor?"—he made no reply; I asked him again—he said, "I do not speak English"—I said, "You spoke English when you came in the shop"—he made no answer, and I called a constable, gave him in custody, and sent for Mr. Harris, who took it over to a jeweller, and returned in a few minutes, and said to the prisoner, "You are a scoundrel; this sovereign is seventeen grains deficient in weight, and if you will allow me to destroy it I will let you go"—he made no reply—I then said, "What are you?"—he said, "Barber," and made a motion towards his hair—he was taken to the station, and I charged him—he made no reply.
PETER BENJAMIN HARRIS . I am a tobacconist, of 55, Gracechurch Street—Mr. How gave me this sovereign, and told me in the prisoner's presence that he had passed it—I got it weighed and returned, and said to the prisoner, "You are a scoundrel; this sovereign is seventeen grains, too light"—I directed Mr. How to go to the station with the prisoner and charge him.
JOHN JAMES CALLOW (City Policeman). I was called, and the shop-man said, in the prisoner's hearing, that he came in for a penny cigarette and tendered a bad sovereign—Mr. Harris went away with the sovereign and came back, and said it was seventeen grains light—I charged him—he only said that he did not speak English—I searched his pockets, and found a half—sovereign, nine half—crowns, one florin, seventeen shillings, four sixpences, forty—two pennies, and twelve halfpence, two keys, and this paper: "London, October 24th, 1893. 100, Aldersgate Street.—Mr. Frackmann. Sold to J. W. Robertson and Co., refiners, 1 oz. 6 dwts. 12 grs. gold, 55s.—£3 12s. 6d."—I also found this bottle of liquid, marked "Jockey Club," in his waistcoat pocket—I handed the articles to Inspector Hook.
NEAL (Detective, City). I saw the prisoner at Seething Lane Police—station on 27th October—I received instructions from my inspector and searched the prisoner—in turning down the sock on his left leg a sovereign (which has been marked "1") fell out—I pulled off his trousers, and between his skin and his drawers I found a sovereign (which has been marked "2"), which had lodged above his left calf—I took those two sovereigns to the Mint—I handed them to the chief clerk, and I saw him test them—I brought them back again, and handed them to Injector Hook.
MARCUS SCHWARTZ . I am a barber, living at 112, Mile End Road—I let the prisoner a room in my house nine weeks before he was looked up, at 2s. a week—the prisoner lodged and slept in that room by himself till
he was arrested on 27th October—I did not know he was a hairdresser; he did not work for me—he told me he was a goldsmith—he asked me to learn him the trade of barber.
Cross-examined. I did not see you doing anything in your room—you did not have a fire in the room.
Re-examined. I was not watching him all day.
HENRY COX (Detective, City). On 27th October I went to Schwartz's house—Schwartz pointed out a room to me at the back of the shop on the ground floor—the door was locked—I had no key, but by means of a screwdriver I opened the door, and searched the room—in a cupboard in the room I found these three bottles; two marked "Lotion," the other not labelled—one of those marked "Lotion" was behind a tin box in the cupboard; it has since been marked "A"—I took the bottles to the Mint authorities—I also found this wine—glass (E) behind the tin box in the cupboard, which was not locked, and this wine-glass (D)on the mantel-piece—both glasses were dry—I gave them to the Mint authorities—there were a bedstead chair and a wooden chair, and a tin box containing underlinen—I also took four sovereigns, marked "1," "2," "3," and "5" to the Mint authorities—I afterwards received a key from Inspector Hook, with which I opened the door of the room—I could not find Sinex Street, only Samuel Street.
CHARLES ALFRED HEWLING . I assist my father, a tobacconist, at 136, Fenchurch Street—on Thursday, 26th October, the prisoner came in and asked in English for two cigarettes—he put down a sovereign in payment—I told him I had not got any change, and asked him if he had got anything smaller—he said in English, "No, I have not"—I gave him 19s. 6d. silver, and 4d. coppers, and he went out—I put the sovereign in the cash-box at the back with other sovereigns—on the following Friday I went to our other shop, and saw the inspector talking to the prisoner's brother—next day, Saturday, I went to Seething Lane Police-station, and picked out the prisoner from nine others; I knew him at once—I went there because I had met and spoken to the inspector about it, about 4.30 on Friday afternoon—T found out there was a light sovereign in the cash-box on the Friday night before I went to the station—my father examined the gold in the cash-box in my presence—I found a light sovereign, and marked it "3."
Cross-examined. You came in about ten o'clock a.m., I should think, on the Thursday, the day before you were arrested.
THOMAS HOOK (Inspector, City). I was present at Seething Lane Police-station when the prisoner was brought in about half-past eleven on 27th October, accompanied by Callow, How, and Harris—the case was explained to me, and I said to the prisoner in English, "Do you speak English?"—he said "No"—I said, "What language do you speak?"—he said, "Polish and Yeddish"—I directed Callow to search him—I engaged an interpreter, who is here to-day—the prisoner said through the interpreter, in answer to the question where he got the coin No. 5 from, "I got it from a pawnbroker"—he said nothing else; he made no reply as to where he got the sovereigns found in his sock and drawers—the acids were shown to him, and the interpreter told him, by my direction, that Cox had been in his room and found them there—the prisoner said
through the interpreter, "Someone must have put them there"—he made no reply to the charge brought by Hewling.
JAMES BEATIE ROBERTSON . I am a gold refiner, of 100, Aldersgate Street, in partnership with my brother—I first saw the prisoner on October 21st; I cannot say the time, but it was Saturday, and we close at three—he came with another man, to act as interpreter, who said "This man is a jeweller, and has gold to sell"—the prisoner produced a piece of gold weighing 17 dwts.—I tested it, and offered him £2 6s. 9d. for it, which was £2 15s. per ounce—he took it, after a little consideration—I asked his name and address, and took it down: "Isaac Frackmann, 3, Beard's Street, Commercial Road"—the interpreter wrote it down; this is it.
Cross-examined. What you sold me was commoner gold than that of a sovereign; alloy had been mixed with it.
WILLIAM WRIGHT ROBERTSON . I am in partnership with my brother—I saw the prisoner once; he came on October 24th to sell a piece of gold—he was alone; he spoke English, but very few words—I tested it, and offered him 55s. an ounce for it—we struck a bargain, and I gave him £3 12s. 6d., and this invoice—there were 17 carats of gold and five of alloy.
AARON KATZ (Interpreted). I am a silversmith, of 24, Winterton Street, Commercial Road—I speak Yeddish—I first employed the prisoner as a silversmith twelve or thirteen weeks ago, at 14s. a week, and he worked for me about six weeks—I have to use strong acids in my trade.
Cross-examined. Goldsmiths use acid sometimes, but not always—the water has to be cold—it is not necessary to have any tools.
THOMAS KIRK ROSE . I am a Fellow of the Chemical Society, and Bachelor of Science, and Assistant Assayer to Her Majesty's Mint—I have had considerable experience in examining the coin of the realm—various articles have been handed to me, and this is my report—I received four sovereigns from Sergeant Cox on October 20th, and found them deficient in weight—No. 1 was 17d. or 2s. 101/2d. less value; No. 2, 121/2 or 1s. 11d. deficient; No. 3, 141/4 or nearly 2s. 4d. value short; and No. 4, 11 grains, or 1s. 9d. less value—a sovereign after eighteen years ought to be reduced to the least current weight, but the deficiency has been caused in this case by the coins being placed in a corrosive fluid, a strong acid—they do not show ordinary wear, they have a peculiar pock—mark—after being reduced in weight by the acid the coins had been polished by rubbing—they probably have not been in circulation much—I afterwards received these bottles, Nos. 2 and 3, containing two or three ounces of acid; that in bottle "A" is quite capable of dissolving a sovereign—bottle "B" contains an acid which" might be used in making the contents of "A"—this bottle marked "Jockey Club" contains some organic liquid, the effect of which is to precipitate the gold, and recover it in a fine powder—these glasses contain a small amount of solid, but they contain no gold; one contains a liquid from bottle "B," and the other a liquid from bottle "C"—I took a new sovereign and attacked it with liquid from bottle "A" for half an hour, and then took it from the acid and polished it, and found it very closely resembled these coins; I mean that there were pock—marks—I precipitated it with the Jockey Club liquid in soda and then melted the powder, and got this little button (produced) which is the gold that was in the solution—a fire is not necessary for this
work, except to melt the powder—there is very little alloy in this button; about 10 parts in 1,000—the least correct weight which a sovereign can be reduced to by ordinary wear and tear is three—quarters of a grain.
Cross-examined. I put the acid into a small glass vessel; it was warm, but not boiling—I poured the liquid off', and took the sovereign out with a glass rod—I took the gold out of the solution by precipitating it with the Jockey Club solution, and melted the powder in a small crucible.
The prisoner in his defence stated, through the Interpreter, that he used the acid at Mr. Katz's', but had to leave him because there was no work, and he went to lodge with a barber, and asked him to teach him his trade; that he borrowed 35s. of a countryman of his, and a ring and watch, which he pawned for£2 5s., and added the 35s. to it, and asked the pawnbroker to give him four sovereigns, which he did; and afterwards he went to the tobacconist's, and in taking a sixpence out of his purse one of the sovereigns fell out, and he was given in custody, and that he kept the acid to test any gold he might buy, and that the golid he sold he bought of another man.
T. K. ROSE (Re-examined). The acids found would not test gold by themselves, as one dissolves gold; you would require. another to precipitate it.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
EMMA FRANKLYN . I assist my uncle, Alfred Henry Barker, of 181, Burdett Road—on October 26th I served the prisoner with a penny-worth of linseed and some mustard, which came to 3d.—she tendered a had florin—I asked her where she got it; she said, "From a butcher's shop," but did not mention the name—I returned it to her; I did not break it or mark it—I spoke to my uncle.
ALFRED HENRY BARKER . I am a corn—chandler—I saw my niece serve the prisoner, and heard money go down on the counter—she said, "This is bad"—I followed the prisoner into Park Road, and spoke to a police-man—the prisoner went into Mrs. Bull's oil-shop—I looked through the window and saw her pass a coin to the boy and change given; as she came out I passed in—I looked at a florin, and then made a signal to a constable, who brought the prisoner back to Mrs. Bull's shop, who said, "This florin is bad"—she said, "I did not know it was bad"—the constable said, "You tried to pass it at 181, Burdett Road"—she said, "I have not been in Burdett Road to—night;" but she looked at me and said, "Yes, I have been in that gentleman's shop"—she was then taken to the station.
GEORGE JOSEPH DIN . I was staying with my aunt, Mrs. Bull—on 26th October I served the prisoner with some mustard and oatmeal, which came to 2d.—she gave me a florin; I gave it to my aunt, who gave her the change.
HARRIETT ELLEN BULL . I keep an oil—shop at 77, Coutts' Road—on 26th October I saw the prisoner in the shop, and my little boy Din gave me a florin—I put it in my purse, and gave the prisoner 1s. 10d. change—Mr. Barker came in, and I looked in my purse and found a bad florin—Mr. Barker went out, and the prisoner was brought back—the constable said, "You have been to Burdett Road to Mr. Barker's shop"—she said, "No, I have not been in Burdett Road to—night."
ALFRED BUTLER (Policeman). On 26th October Mr. Barker spoke to me—I went with him towards Coutts' Road, and saw the prisoner enter Mrs. Bull's shop—Mr. Barker made a signal to me, and I took the prisoner back to the shop—I took her purse from her—Mr. Barker said that the coin was bad—she said she did not know it—I asked the prisoner if she had been to Mr. Barker's shop—she said, "No," she had not been in any shop that evening—on the way to the station she said, "I may as well tell you where I got it. I am an unfortunate girl; it was given me by a man"—she gave her address at a common lodging—house.
ELIZABETH ASHLIN . I am female searcher at Bow Police—station—on October 26th I searched the prisoner, but found no money on her, good or bad—she said, "I am very sorry I told the young woman I got it from a butcher's shop, I am an unfortunate, and I did not like to say so."
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 15th, 1893.
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MR. A. GILL, for the prosecution, offered no evidence. The GRAND JURY had thrown out the bill.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
For other cases tried this day, see Essex and Kent cases.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 15th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted.
FLORENCE RAWLE . I Am fourteen years of age—I live with my sister and brother—in—law at Lower Place Farm, Acton Lane—at 4.45 p.m. on 20th October, I came by train from school at Westbourne Grove to Acton Station, and was walking down Willesden Lane, which is a country lane, down which carriages can go—I saw the prisoner walking along the footpath, when I had gone about half—way down the lane—he had this stick in his hand—I passed him, and then he struck me on my head with it from behind—the stick broke two or three inches from one end with the force of the blow—I fell to the ground; I had on a sailor hat—the prisoner seized me and rolled me into a ditch in which was water—I
screamed, and he said if I did not stop that he would cut my throat—he put one hand over my mouth, and his other hand he put under my clothes; he scratched one leg—I was struggling with him in the ditch for some minutes—he lifted me out of the ditch on to the grass, and asked me to go into the next field with him—I refused—he asked if I had any money on me—I took my purse out of my pocket, and took out 3d., which he snatched from me—he tried to put his hand in my pocket; I prevented him, and cried out—I had sixpence in my purse, which the prisoner saw as soon as he snatched the threepence from me—he said, "Give me your purse"—I refused—then I saw a carriage coming along the road from the direction of Acton Station; it was fairly light at this time—the prisoner then ran away along the road about twenty yards, in the opposite direction to that from which the carriage was coming, and then I saw him get over a gate into a field and run as fast as he could—that was the last I saw of him then—the carriage came up, and I spoke to the two ladies in it, and the coachman, and complained to them—I then went home, where I spoke to someone—my brother-in-law was not at home when I went in—when he came in I went out with him to the place where I had been assaulted, and there I saw the prisoner detained in the lane by one of our men, Ridgely—I at once recognised him, and said, "You are the very man."
DANIEL RIDGELY . I am a labourer, and live at Lower Place Farm, Acton—on 20th October I was working in a field adjoining Willesden Lane—at 4.45 p.m., two ladies and a coachman in a carriage, which came along Willesden Lane, spoke to me, and from the information I received I went from the garden into a ploughed field, and into a meadow, and saw the prisoner running under the hedge—I ran after him—as soon as he saw I was getting too close to him he turned round, and came through a gateway, and met me, and said, "I suppose you are after the man who assaulted that young lady in the lane?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "You won't catch him, for I've been chasing of him, and he must have got to Mr. Johnson's farm by now"—that is an adjoining field—I said, "I don't think so; I think you are the man"—he said, "I am not"—I said, "The only way to prove that will be to go back with me to the farm, and see if the young lady can identify you"—he said, "No; I shan't go"—I said, "Then I shall not leave you till you do go, or until I get some help"—after some persuasion he said, "Then I will go with you"—he came with me into Willesden Lane, where we met Mr. Goddard, followed by the girl, who pointed to the prisoner and said at once, "That is the man"—a policeman met us on the road and took the prisoner in custody.
RICHARD GODDARD . I am a farmer, of Lower Place Farm, Acton—Florence Rawle is my wife's sister; she lives with us—I was not in the house on 20th October when she came home—I was sent for—she was crying and very much upset, frightened and distressed—her clothing was wet and all over mud—I went out, telling her to follow me—I went towards Acton Station, through Willesden Lane—I met Ridgely, who is in my employment, with the prisoner—I asked my sister—in—law, who was coming behind me, if that was the man, and she said, "Yes"—the man said, "I am done for"—I said, "Yes, you are; I shall take you to Acton Police—station"—as we were going along, he said, "I don't know what I did it for; it was not for that; I have got a wife at home"—we got nearly
to Acton Police—station and then met Baxter, and the prisoner was taken into custody.
THOMAS BAXTER (501 X). On 20th October I was in the Acton Police—station on duty, and at 5.30 p.m. two ladies came up in a carriage and made a communication to me, and I went to Willesden Lane, where I met the prisoner detained by Goddard and Ridgely—I told him I should take him for robbing the prosecutrix of 3d., and assaulting her by striking her on the head with a stick, and indecently assaulting her by placing his hand up her clothes—he said, "I did not pull the girl about, neither did I assault her with a stick"—he was taken to the station and charged: and he said, "I admit pulling the girl about, but I did not assault her with the stick"—the girl was brought to the Police-station—I found a bump on her head as large as a small egg, a recent bruise on the right side—her dress, jacket, and hat were saturated with wet—the back part of her hair, which was hanging down, was wet, as if she had fallen into water on the back of her head—both knees of the prisoner's trousers were wet, as if he had been kneeling on a wet place, and the right knee was smothered in mud—the toes of his boots were also saturated with wet—I went in the direction of Willesden Lane, and on the right side of the road I saw marks of a struggle in the ditch, and by the side of it I found the larger portion of this stick some few feet away, and the small portion on the path a few feet off—Miss Rawle identified it.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he did not strike the girl on her head with the stick, nor feel up her doilies: and in his defence he stated that he had too much to drink, but knew what he was doing, and that he did not hit the girl on her head with a stick.
He PLEADED GUILTY to stealing only.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted.
THEODOSIA MARY HANCOCK . I live at Peterborough Road, Harrow—on the morning of 20th September I was sitting on a camp—stool sketching in Kenton Lane—I saw the prisoner pass me—he sprang across the road behind me, and I was thrown into a ditch—he stood over me, holding one hand over my mouth, and the other on my ankle, holding me down—he said, "Where is your watch?"—I screamed—he pulled my watch out of my dress, his hand still being over my mouth, and hurting me—I screamed the whole time—when he was pulling it out I was so frightened that I told him I had a gold brooch with pearls in it—I took it out and flung it into the road: I hoped he would take it and go away—he said, "Where is your purse? Don't make a noise: where is your purse?"—I said, "If you will let me get up I will give it to you"—he let me get up—I stooped forward to pick up my brooch to give it to him—he said, "Don't stop to pick anything up; where is your purse?"—I gave it to him—he picked up the brooch, and ran away down the lane towards
Kenton—I screamed until he let me get up, and then I was silent, I think—I next saw him at the West London Police—court.
He PLEADED GUILTY to the stealing only.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted.
FLORENCE PEABODY . I live at 3, Chesham Villas, Sudbury—on 7th August I was in about the middle of Rosebank Lane, Harrow, at 2.45 p.m.—as I was going round a turning the prisoner pulled me down to the aground by my hair from behind—he put one hand over my mouth and eyes, and knocked me about my head with the other hand several times—I screamed—I tried to kick him, and to bite his hand—he said, "Hold your tongue, or I will kill you"—I called out, "My father is coming"—he let me get up, and said, "Give me your purse"—there was some dark, greasy stuff on the hand which he put over my face: it left marks on my face where his hand had been over my mouth—when he asked for my purse I told him I had not one—he asked me for my money—I told him I had not any with me—he said, "What have you got?"—I said, "Only my brooch"—he told me to take it off—I unfastened it, and he snatched it from my hand and ran away up the lane.
Prisoner's defence. I am guilty of throwing her down, but not of striking her on the head at all.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted.
MINNIE KAYE . I live at Horsingdon Hill—on 4th October I was going along a footpath, across a field leading from Perry Vale to Ealing, at 5.30 p.m.—it was light—the prisoner came towards me, and I was passing him when he caught hold of me sideways, and threw me down—my head struck the ground, and it and my side were hurt by the fall—I felt my side very much for several days afterwards—when I was on the ground he held me down, and took my purse from my pocket—it contained 3s.—he asked for my watch: I said I had not one on me—I struggled and got away, and ran off, leaving him behind—I noticed him going away across the fields—I told someone about it when I got home—the police were communicated with—I next saw the prisoner at the Police—station, Acton, about 20th October, and picked him out from several men standing in a row—I have no doubt he is the man.
ALEXANDER MCMULLEN (Detective X). I received information at the Police—station on 4th October, and went to the pathway in Perry Vale the following morning—I there saw marks of a struggle: the grass was knocked down, and there were marks of feet on the gravel at the edge of the path—I was present at the station when Miss Kaye picked out the prisoner from among several others at once, without any hesitation.
The prisoner's defence. I have only to say I am not guilty of this last one: I never saw her before in my life.
Three Years' Penal Servitude on each of the four indictments (the sentences to run consecutively), and twenty strokes with the cat.
MR. BLACK Prosecuted.
BENJAMIN MCCALKIN . I am a lighterman, of Poplar—on 20th October at 3.30 p.m. I went into a public—house in Poplar—McTeer asked me to treat her, which I did—I did not know her before—Clark came in soon after-wards, and I treated him at McTeer's request to a drop of ale—I stopped in the public—house for about half an hour as it was raining heavily—when I left the house I tried to catch a tram, and, as I came outside, the prisoners and two or three men followed me; McTeer caught hold of my coat, and Clark and the other men hustled me down the street—Clark caught hold of me by my throat from behind, and very nearly strangled me; my throat was very bad for two or three days afterwards, and I could not Swallow solid food for three days—I did not go to a doctor—while Clark held me by my throat, McTeer and two others rifled my pockets, and took 30s. from my trousers and waistcoat pockets—I was perfectly sober—it did not last many minutes; they were disturbed—a lot of people were in Commercial Street—I felt my senses almost going with the pressure on my throat—directly they released me I tried to struggle with Clark; he showed fight—I felt frightened, and ran across the road to the Police—station, and the police arrested the prisoners, who were then in Pearl Street, down which they hustled me.
Cross-examined by McTeer. You put your hands in my pockets—I was not in the public—house with another female when you came in—she did not ask you to let her have a room—I did not say to you, "Come over to another public—house; I don't like the look of that woman"—I did not at the other public—house give you as much rum as you could drink, and make you senseless drunk.
Cross-examined by Clark. I did not take much notice if McTeer was drunk when I first saw her in the public—house—she was more excited than drunk when she was charged.
Re-examined. I only gave them two glasses of beer.
JAMES VINCE (93 H). On 20th October I was on duty in Commercial Street Police—station—a complaint was made to me, and I went to Pearl Street, where I saw the prisoners—as soon as Clark saw us coming he turned in the opposite direction, and ran away—the prosecutor shouted, "There goes one of the men!"—I ran after Clark and took him—before I had a chance to say anything to him he said, "You have got the wrong man; I was only trying to get my wife away from that man there;" meaning the prosecutor—I told him I should take him in custody for being concerned with others in robbing a man of 30s.—he said nothing—on the way to the station he said, "I have only just come out of a public—house at the top of the street, and came down here"—when in the dock, before the charge was taken, he said to the prosecutor, "Don't charge me; give me a chance"—he was charged, and made no reply—McTeer had been drinking very heavily, but she walked to the station without assistance—she made no statement to me.
was made to me, and I went down to Pearl Street with Vince—I saw Clark—as soon as he saw us he ran away—Vince gave chase, caught him, and took him to the station—I arrested McTeer, who was pointed out by the prosecutor as being there and assisting to rob him—she was the worse for drink, but she could walk, and knew what she was doing—she said, "I did not rob the man; I was there when it was done; I did not have a b——chance; the other men have got the money, and they have gone with it"—after the charge was made, she said, "You cannot b——well hang me; you can do what you like"—it is a rough neighbourhood; these things frequently occur in the by—streets; the population sympathises with the offenders, and the police have to go round in twos in some places.
Cross-examined by Clark. I was not examined before the Magistrate.
JOSEPH SHANNON . I am a labourer, of 6, Crown Court, Little Pearl Street—I was up at my sister's place looking out at the window, and I saw Clark with his arms round the prosecutor, and McTeer rifling his pockets—the prosecutor was against the lamp—post when Clark claimed him; he was. holding him by the back of his neck—I did not go down then—when I got into the street I saw Clark in custody—I stated at Worship Street what I had seen—McTeer said that she gave me the money, and I gave it to my sister, and if my sister did not have it, my other sister should have it, and she was at work—I know McTeer to be a very wicked woman; she would swear any man's life way—I came into the street when she was arrested—I said to the constable, "Take that woman, and you have got the right woman."
Cross-examined by McTeer. I was up in my sister's room when you first accused me—you said I gave the constable a shilling so that he should not take me in custody—I and two other men did not follow you and the prosecutor when he had his arm round your waist—you are wicked enough to say anything; you would accuse a child if it had been coming past—I did not come up the first time you were before the Magistrate because I forgave your wickedness—I did not come the second time because Thursday was stated on my subpoena, and it should have been Wednesday—I cannot say what you did with the money you took from the prosecutor's pocket; I saw you do it—a lot of people came out of doors at the time, hearing the noise—it is a very rough neighbourhood.
Clark, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that he found McTeer, with whom he was living, in a public—house with the prosecutor; that he left them there, and afterwards met them in the street, McTeer being then drunk, and having the prosecutor's arm round her waist, and that, mad with rage, he pulled them apart, when the prosecutor ran away, and returned with two policemen.
McTeer, in her statement and in her defence, said that the prosecutor took her from one public—house to another and made her drunk; and then he was walking with his arm round her waist, when three or four men rushed up, and knocked her down, and rifled the prosecutor's pockets.
They then PLEADED GUILTY** to a former conviction of felony, Clark at
this Court in July, 1888, and McTeer in March, 1889, in the, name of Mary McCarthy. A large number of convictions were proved against CLARK.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and five strokes with the cat. McTEER— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
23. HUDSON WEATHERBURN PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully possessing counterfeit coin, with intent to utter. Inspector Heed stated that he had borne a good character, but had been led away, and that he had given information to the police. His uncle promised to look after him— Three Days' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 15th, 1893.
Before Mr. Recorder.
25. THOMAS LANDER ** to unlawfully obtaining £1 7s. and £1, by false pretences, after a conviction of forgery at this Court on September 10th, 1883.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WOODGATE Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
THOMAS TADMAN . I am an undertaker, of 422, Cable Street—on August 29th, about nine p.m., I was in Johnson Street, and the prisoner, whom I knew by sight, snatched my watch, and said, "Give me that"—he ran across the street—I ran after him, and got hold of him by his coat, and a man rushed up and said, "If you don't leave go of him I will stick a knife into you"—I let go, and he ran across the street—I ran after him, and when I got to the corner of the street I was knocked down on my knees by a tall man, the one who had threatened me with the knife—I jumped up, and called "Stop thief!" and ran after the prisoner, and when I got to the corner of Thomas Street three or four men said, "Knock the old b——down and kill him"—the prisoner was not with those men; he was running in front—I got up again, and found my arm bleeding—it was broken by a kick when I was down, and was trying to save my head—I went to the hospital—I knew the prisoner, because he came and asked me to go bail for his brother the Sessions before last, who got five years' penal servitude—I came here on purpose to look for him, when his brother was here, and saw him in a public—house opposite this Court, and gave him in custody—when he was in custody he wanted to shake hands and said, "Mr. Tadman, I would not rob you of your watch."
Cross-examined. He never said, "You have got the wrong man," nor did I say so before the Magistrate—I did not know his name or address when the robbery was committed—I did not know that the other man was his brother, or that his name was Gardner—I went with him to a beer—house with a man named Eccleston—I told the policeman he might be found at 'Eccleston's, not the same night—I did not see Smith till I came out of the hospital—I went to Eccleston's two nights, and had police all
round the place—Johnson Street leads from Commercial Road into Cable Street—this robbery took place close to our coach—house—I was going home—Mrs. Le Fevre was with me, and must have seen my watch snatched—this happened near a lamp—the prisoner would never have got away from me if it had not been for the man breaking my arm—Mrs. Le Fevre did not run with me; she was frightened, and was in bed next day—I do not know a Mrs. Stephenson—I did not send her to the station to identify the prisoner, nor Mrs. Le Fevre, nor any woman—Thursby works for my wife—I did not ask him to go to the station to identify the prisoner, but the police did—my wife has done several things for Mrs. Neendroff, but she is not dependent upon her—I did not say to Smith, the officer, "Whoever is brought in will be identified"—I went to draw £18 out—I did not get till ten minutes to nine at the George Public—house—I did not go into the George—I am not a teetotaler; I had twopenny worth of whisky with Mrs. Le Fevre, but I had nothing between 7.30 and then.
Re-examined. There is no ground for suggesting that I was drunk; I had to do our stables afterwards—I knew that Gardner was the name of the man I was asked to be bail for, but I did not know the prisoner was his brother till afterwards.
HENRY JAMES THURSBY . I live at 423, Cable Street, and am in Mr. Tadman's employ—on August 29th, at nine p.m., I heard a cry of "Stopthief!" and the prisoner ran almost into my arms, and turned round and stumbled as he came, and then turned back again—about a fortnight afterwards I saw him at the station with fifteen or sixteen other men, and identified him—I knew his face the moment I saw him.
Cross-examined. On the Tuesday night Mr. Tadman said, "We have got the chap who took my watch; I want you to go to—night and identify him"—I described the man who ran into my arms to the police, as about my height, hardly as tall, slight moustache, and a light jacket buttoned up, or a guernsey.
By the COURT. I told Mr. Tadman that I had seen the man, and he asked me to identify him—I saw Mr. Tadman in the hospital.
ANN NEENDROFF . On August 29th I was living at Dr. Barnardo's, in Dock Street, and about nine p.m. I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw a man run out of Short Street towards the railway arch; he stumbled and fell on his right knee—I put my hand on his shoulder, and somebody called out, "Look out, missis; he has got a knife!"—I saw his face—he got away from me, as I had a baby in my arms—Mr. Tadman came to the corner, and the man jumped up and went across the street—I after-wards picked him out from a lot of others at the Police—station; the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I hesitated because I did not see any cuff, or anything round his neck, but I was certain of his features—I am certain of him now; the more I see him in the dock the more certain I get—this all happened in a moment—I go to Mrs. Tadman's every day; she has been very kind to me as regards my little boy, but my husband supports me.
Re-examined. The prisoner looked up in my face, and he was very white, like a corpse when I saw him at the station he was dressed like a gentleman, but he had no cutis or collar on.
Bridewell Police—station—I told him the charge—he said nothing, but afterwards he said, "I would not do such a thing to Mr. Tadmun; he came to bail my brother out the other day. I was at Charley Elphinstone's the other evening, and we talked about my brother being stabbed"—he was taken to the station and identified by four witnesses.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Neendroff hesitated—Mrs. Stephenson and her daughter failed to identify him—on September 6th Tadman said, "Who ever is brought in will be identified," but I did not take much notice of what he said, because he was under the influence of drink—he could speak, but he was very excited.
HERBERT CHARLES ELSMORE . I am a hospital surgeon—I was on duty on August 29th, when Tadman was brought in—he had a compound fracture of the right fore—arm; both bones were broken across, and there was a small wound in the skin by the bone coming through it, and bruising on the back of his arm by his elbow—the injuries were serious; he was under my treatment about a week, and then he was sent to the out-patients' department—I do not think he will have the use of his hand again.
Cross-examined. The injuries might have been caused by a fall.
THOMAS TADMAN (Re-examined). I am married—my wife had seen the prisoner when he came to me about being bail for his brother—I first identified him in the public—house in the Old Bailey—my wife was with me; she had been out four days, looking for him—it was in consequence of something she said that I went to the public—house to find him—while I was in the hospital I made a communication to my wife as to who the man was who took my watch.
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Chelmsford on October 15th, 1890, of robbery from the person.— Eighteen Months Hard Labour.
MR. KEELING Prosecuted.
THOMAS MANN . I am a labourer, of 6, Great Smith Street, Westminster, which is a common lodging—house—on the Monday before this I gave evidence in some Police—court proceedings against the prisoner Williams' brother for robbing an old man in the same lodging house—Cartwright was a witness for him—he was found guilty—on the following Wednesday, at one a.m., I was in bed, and was awoke by a blow on my mouth, and saw both the prisoners in the room; they live there—they knocked me about—Cartwright said, "Come on, that is enough," and they went away for ten minutes—Cartwright waited outside the door, and Williams said, "Now, you b——, you got my brother six weeks; I will stab you to the heart"—I struggled with him, and felt a knife go into my thigh and into my arm—I called for help, and they ran away—I gave Williams in charge—I was taken to the hospital—I believe Williams had had a drop, and had been put on to it—I have always known him to be a very quiet fellow.
Cross-examined by Cartwright. I saw you outside the door, because
the light winch hung outside shows a light into our room; you had no coat on, only your waistcoat—it was not too dark to recognise the two of you in the room—there was a lamp on the opposite wall shining in at the window—my lip was cut.
JOSEPH GOODE . I am night deputy at this lodging—house—on October 18th, early in the morning, I heard a man scream—I ran upstairs, and saw the two prisoners coming out of Mann's room—Cartwright was dressed in fustian trousers and a black coat and cap—Williams came out first—I asked what they were doing; Cartwright said, "What has that to do with you?"—I went into Mann's room, and saw him on the bed; blood was flowing from his thigh—I told the manager, who sent for a constable, and Mann was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined by Cartwright. You had your coat on when you came down the stairs; you hung it on the horse in the back kitchen, because it was wet.
Re-examined. There is a street lamp opposite Mann's room, which lights it up a little, and shines on the stairs leading to the room—there is gas on the stairs, but they wind—the gas is on the lower landing, and there is a door always closed between the light and Mann's room—I could see the prisoners coming from Mann's room; neither of them had any business there.
THOMAS CUSH (619 A). On October 18th, at one a.m., I was on duty in the Broad Sanctuary—Goode came out to me, and I went with him to the lodging—house, and saw Mann bleeding from three wounds; one on his thigh, one on his arm, and one on his hand—I went to a back room and found Williams there, hid behind some boards and ladders—I told him I should take him for stabbing the prosecutor—he said, "Very well, I will go quiet"—I took him to the station—he was sober, but he may have been drinking—I took Mann to the hospital—I found this table—knife among the boards, where Williams had been hiding—Goode said, "That is the man," pointing to Cartwright, who said, "I don't know nothing at all about it; I will go quiet"—he was charged at the station, and made no answer—the knife seems to have been rubbed on a step or a stone.
Cross-examined by Cartwright. I went through the kitchen when I went after Williams, but do not recollect seeing you there—Mann only said that you were one of those who assaulted him, not stabbed him.
Re-examined. Mann went through the kitchen with me to look for Williams—I do not recollect seeing Cartwright there—I asked the prisoners if the knife belonged to them, and Cartwright said, in Williams's presence, that it belonged to Williams.
WILLIAM HERBERT GOSSAGE . I am house surgeon at Westminster Hospital—Mann was brought in, suffering from three incised wounds; one on his right arm, one on his left thigh, and one on his left hand—the wound on his arm was an inch and a half long, but not very deep; it went through the skin; I stitched it up—that on his thigh was two and a half inches long, and divided the muscles—he complained of being struck on his face, but I found no mark—this knife would cause the injuries—they were not dangerous, but they would cause pain—his thigh was not bleeding when I saw it, but I think he had lost a good deal of blood.
Cartwright's statement before the Magistrate; "I had nothing to do with it."
Williams's defence. I beg for mercy; I was drunk, and know nothing about it.
Cartwright's defence. I had just paid for my lodging, and heard a noise overhead, and having seen Williams just before and knowing he had threatened to do something to the man, I went up and saw Williams and pushed him downstairs and followed afterwards. You have only Mann's statement, and my word is as good as his. There was a great deal of noise while the stabbing was going on.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
CARTWRIGHT— NOT GUILTY .
MR. KEELING offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
MR. MCMORRAN Prosecuted. KATIE KING. I am a machinist, of 64, Shepherdess Walk, Hoxton—on October 23rd, about 7.15 p.m., I was in Murray Street—I had a bag containing my purse, two or three needles, and other articles—I was. stopped in Allington Street by three lads; the prisoner is one of them—one put his back against me and snatched my bag—I was going to run after him, but the prisoner knocked me down—on the Thursday evening following I saw the prisoner, to the best of my belief, and two others—a policeman came," and they ran away, and one of them jumped into a coal cellar—I afterwards identified the prisoner at the station among several others—I was hurt—I had money in my purse—the prisoner said before the Magistrate, "It was not me struck you at all; it was a short chap, with a light coat on."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not take my bag, but you knocked me down.
GEORGE HALL . I am eleven years old, and live at 112, Mitre Street—I saw a crowd round a young woman in Murray Street—after that I saw the prisoner and two other boys, and then I saw the girl run after him, arid a man stopped her—the smallest boy had a bag—I picked out the prisoner from others at the station.
Cross-examined. I did not see you strike her.
By the COURT. There was a lady there with a bad leg—I do not know whether she had just broken it, and then I looked and saw another crowd round the prosecutrix—I cannot say what they did to her, but they all ran down a court—I knew the prisoner by sight.
JOHN BAGNELL . I am eleven years old—I was with Hall, and saw a crowd round a young woman in Murray Street—the prisoner was one of them—I am sure he is the man—I raw three of them run through the court, and she ran after them; the prisoner was one of them—I knew him by sight; he used to work there.
JOHN SCOTT (Police Sergeant G). On October 27th, from information, I went to Allcott's saw—mills, where the prisoner was at work, and said I should take him for assault on Monday, the 23rd—he said, "What time?"
—I said, "About 7.15"—he said, "Oh! I was at the first house at the Variety Theatre"—he was taken to the station, placed with five others, and the prosecutrix and witnesses identified him—he said that it was a man with a light coat who pushed her down—they gave him a good character at Allcott's, and said he had been working there ten weeks.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EMMA LEDWITH . I am the prisoner's mother—my husband is a waterside labourer—we live at 24, Paxton Street; the prisoner lives with us—I had been to work on this Thursday with my little girl, and came home at 5.35, and found him having his tea—he went to bed at 6.30, and did not get up again till next morning, when he went to work at 5.45—I know nothing about him on the Monday.
Cross-examined. I remember the night in question, because I had been to do a day's work—I often do a day's work—he is not in the habit of going to bed at 6.30, but he said he did not feel very well, and I wanted him to take pills—he is a good boy at home, and always brought his money home, to a penny.
ADA HALL . I am Mrs. Ledwith's landlady's daughter—on the Thursday before I was examined at the Police—court I was at home, and the young lad came home and had his tea before his mother came in, and after tea he went into the yard and washed himself, and said he was going to bed—he has been a well—conducted boy during the ten weeks I have known him.
Cross-examined. I passed the parlour door and saw him lying on the bed—he could not have got up without my knowing it, because I was sitting there—I fix the night because Mrs. Ledwith was out cleaning—she goes out two or three days a week.
SARAH HOMES . I am the landlady—on Thursday night the prisoner was at home—I know that because Mrs. Ledwith asked me to open the door if anybody called—I sat up to answer the door, and am sure the prisoner did not go out. NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, November 16th and 17th, 1893.
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MESSRS. BESLEY and MUIR Prosecuted, and MR. WILLES Defended Abib.
FRANK WILLIAM FOSTER , architect and surveyor, of Warwick Lodge, Kingston, produced plans of the premises, 9, Church Row, Aldgate; and FRANK HOLT MCLOCHLIN, architectural modeller, produced and proved a model of the same.
HENRY LLOYD . I am a labourer, and live at 8, Church Row, Aldgate, next door to 9—in the early morning of 17th October I was awake, and heard Aldgate Church strike two, and about twenty five minutes or half—past two I heard cries of "Fire! Fire!"—I immediately got out of bed, and went to a window on the landing and looked out, and saw the prisoner Valensin leaning out of the window of the first floor of No. 9—I said, "What is the matter?"—he said, "The place is on fire"—I only
saw smoke coming from the window; it seemed a goodish bit of smoke—I said, "Get out; the window is low; jump out"—I immediately turned round and went in for some of my clothes, and went out—as I opened the street door I saw Valensin in the court, in his drawers, socks, and shirt; he had been got down by two men—he was trembling very violently, and could hardly speak; I think it was fright—the night was cold, but nothing severe—he seemed very much frightened—he asked for A drink of water—I pulled him into the passage of No. 8—I gave him some water, and afterwards took him to my room—he had got all his clothes on then, except his hat, and he felt a little better, but he was not quite the thing—he kept complaining of his chest being so sore through the smoke and shouting out—when the fire was over he was allowed to go in and dress—when I got out into the street the fireman was there, and a constable and the two young men who had helped the prisoner out of the window—when he was in my room I got some coffee for him, and while he was drinking it I said to him, "How did the fire commence?"—he said, "I do not know"—he said he went to bed at one o'clock and went to sleep, and woke up through the smoke; that he got up and put his hand on the wainscote; it was so hot he could not keep his hand there—he Opened the door, but could not get down; he was half choked—he said that his employer stopped there till twelve to make his accounts up—he said, "I left home at half—past five to go to my employer at Walworth to acquaint him of the fire; I returned with him to No. 8; I just went to the bottom of the road with him"—after the fire was over Valensin stopped in my room till about half—past five.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I gave evidence at the Coroner's inquiry—I said there that Valensin appeared very much frightened, and was half suffocated—that was so; he was very much frightened and trembling violently—it was not put on, he really was frightened; he looked very bad and very white—after he had got his clothes on he seemed half suffocated—he said his chest was very sore—he did not tell me that the shouting out had hurt his chest; he said the smoke had half choked him—when he was leaning out of the window and I was leaning out we could have touched each other's hands—he seemed like a man stupefied—he said he had been reading before he went to bed—I had never seen him before that night.
FREDERICK WELLER (City Policeman 984). On Tuesday, 17th October, in the early morning, I was on duty in High Street, Aldgate—I heard someone halloaing "Murder!"—I went to the place from which the voice came and found a fire at 9, Church Row, at a distance of about twice the length of this Court; I found Valensin sitting in the window immediately over the bay of the front shop—there was no one else there; I was the first to arrive—I saw smoke coming from the window where he was sitting; I saw no flames—I told him to come down—by that time two men had arrived; one of them got on the other's shoulders and pulled him down—I then blew my whistle, and the fireman came—I did not see water thrown, on the fire; I remained till the fire was out—from the time I heard the cry of murder till the fire was out was about fifteen minutes—I then went back to my beat.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. From the time I got there till Valen—s
sin was helped out was about a minute—he seemed very much frightened; it seemed genuine fright—I don't think it was put on—the roof he would have got on to was a little on the slope.
CHARLES HOCKLEY . I am a fireman, No.30, in the Fire Brigade stationed at the Bishopsgate Fire Station—that is about 300 yards from Church Row—on 17th October, about 2.34 a.m., I got an alarm of fire, and went to 9, Church Row with a hose—car, an escape, and three men—when I got to the door I found a constable keeping the door, which was shut—I entered the shop and passed through to the room at the back, which was on fire—I came out into the street and got a street hydrant at work, and put out the fire—it took me about seven or eight minutes—the door between the shop and the back room was open—I did not notice whether there was a lamp on the table—there was considerable strength of water from the hose; it would easily knock over a lamp—Superintendent Smith arrived, and he took charge—the biggest blaze seemed to be on the right, towards the fireplace.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I was four or five minutes on the scene before the superintendent arrived—at that time the hydrant had been got to work and playing two or three minutes; I dare say 90 or 100 gallons of water had been discharged in five minutes—I should not think the hydrant had been playing more than eight minutes at the very outside, if not less—there were three men, and they relieved each other—I remained till the fire was over—I cannot say how many firemen went inside that night—only one would be there until the superintendent came.
GEORGE SMITH . I am Superintendent of the London County Council Fire Brigade; my station is in the Commercial Road—I received notice of this fire at 2.34 in the morning of 17th October—I at once went to the house with the engine and some men—I found the fire burning in the back room of No. 9, Church Row—it was extinguished in about a minute after I arrived—the moment after the fire was extinguished the room, would be full of steam and smoke—after that had cleared off I made an examination of the room by the aid of a lantern, with Superintendent Ford, of the London Salvage Corps—he arrived shortly after me—I found two fires; one by the cigar—boxes between two doors—it began nearly at the bottom, underneath the small table—I saw nothing at the bottom to account for the fire—when I made my examination the fire was extinguished—there was a little debris of wood and paper shavings in front of the cigar—boxes which had teen charred—the debris was about as much as could be held in two hands—I examined the clean shavings alongside the front of the cigar—boxes—they smelt very strongly of paraffin—I examined one handful—the small table in front was almost completely destroyed; it was weakened by the fire, and broken to pieces by our men going into the place—the under side and the legs were damaged by fire, charred—the outside of the fronts of the cigar—boxes were very much charred, but not burnt through, only one or two boxes—the door next the cigar—boxes had a glass panel; that was charred—the ceiling was papered—that was not all burnt—the paper immediately above the cigar—boxes was burnt, but the part between the two fires was not—the second fire originated in the coal basket—I produce the basket—there was some
coal in the bottom of it and some rags; they smelt strongly of paraffin; there are pieces on it now—that basket and its contents had been nearly burnt, and it had damaged the front of the sloping desk, and considerably charred the paper casing of the beam directly over it—I found two packing—cases next the sloping desk—they contained several cardboard boxes of cigarettes, some full—the tops of two boxes were not on them—when I first examined the boxes they were standing side by side; afterwards someone placed one on the top of the other—they were charred on the side nearest the sloping desk—those were the only tires I discovered on that occasion—there was no connection between them; they were near about eight feet apart—there was a show—case on the side of the room—there was some glass on it broken, and broken pieces of glass on the floor in front of it—the door of it was shut—it contained principally empty cigarette card—boxes—in front of it were some wood and paper shavings, extending about six inches, and about three inches deep, the full length of the show—case; those shavings were not touched by fire—I examined them; they smelt very strongly of paraffin—I should think there must have been quite half a gallon of paraffin required to saturate the shavings and rags—I made a subsequent examination on 3rd November, jointly with Mr. Ford, by daylight—I went over the same ground I have spoken of, and I then found signs of another fire, under the writing table, in the centre of the room—I found the bottom part of a waste—paper basket, with some paper in it, affected more or less by fire—the bottom, part was consumed by fire; I produce it—at the time I found it it smelt of paraffin—the under side of the table was considerably burnt—the drawers are here—there was no connection between that fire and either of the others—there was an old carpet on the floor, and on the edges of the bottom of the basket the carpet was affected by fire, in a circle; the carpet was also affected by the other two fires in the vicinity of them, but not in the spaces between the tires—there were some shavings lying along, in front of the boxes under the window, similar to the others; I think about half a bushel—they also smelt of paraffin, but they had not been, affected by the fire—I examined one or two of the pile of cigar—boxes; three or four were full, and one or two were empty—I saw a broken lamp on the floor, about midway between the table and the fireplace; I should think that it had been knocked over by the stream of water coming in at the door—I carefully examined the remains of that lamp—I have had experience of exploded lamps—I should think this lamp had not been broken by explosion—I should think the receiver would hold about half a pint—these (produced) are the remains of that lamp—I do not think there was any explosion; if there had been I should have expected the roller to have been damaged, and the receiver broken into more pieces, and it would also have shown signs of tire on the floor, and on the top of the table on which the lamp stood, which had a leather covering—that was curled up from the heat, but not burned—I should say this lamp was a very good one; I won't say it was a safety lamp—I saw this can containing, paraffin (produced) which was found under the counter; it is an ordinary half—gallon can; it had a small funnel in the mouth; it was not corked—I shook it; it contained a little paraffin; I did not measure it, but I should think it was about half a pint; I poured out a little of it—there was no fire in the shop.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I have been in the Fire Brigade twenty—two years—I know that a great many fires in the Metropolis are caused by paraffin lamps—this is the only piece of the lamp that was found—I believe there were other portions; I did not see them—this was found on the floor, between the writing—table and the centre of the room and the fireplace; the top was found near it—I do not know of any lamp that is absolutely a safety—I think most probably the lamp was on the table, and knocked off the table—I should not expect it to have left fragments—I should say the lamp must have been four or five feet from the cigar—boxes, and about the same distance from the coal basket—I think the height of the table was about six feet by four—the shavings were not the ordinary shavings of a carpenter's shop; they are fine wood shavings. This (produced) is a specimen of the unborn shavings taken from the floor in the back room, and this is a sample taken from the basement—there was no fire in the basement—these are the two cases of which I have spoken which show marks of burning, and this is the paraffin can. These shavings are of wood, such as would probably be found in any place used for packing goods—I saw one lamp intact hanging to the ceiling in the shop, and this broken one in the back room—there was a cradle for the lamp in the shop; it looked as though it had been taken from the lamp in the shop and taken into the back room—there was another complete lamp in the shop window—I went into the basement—I did not notice anything there but a w. c.—I simply went in the basement to see if there was any fire there—I found none—I did not know what the basement contained—Hockley and two or three other men had gone into the back room before me—Hockley held a light—I don't think any other men came in—the floor was partly carpeted, and there were boxes lying about—I should say about 100 gallons of water were thrown from the hydrant, and about one—third of it went out of the window into the churchyard—the whole of the contents on the floor would, of course, be wet—the shavings were saturated with paraffin in three separate places; there was no fire on them—I did not see the waste—paper basket on the night of the fire; I saw it on the 3rd of this month—I had been there before that, but I did not notice it then—I should say it was from fifteen to eighteen inches under the table—I did not notice the state of the table till it was pointed out to me this morning by Mr. Ford—I was there yesterday; the table was in the same place then as it was before—I do not know whether this paper was in the waste—paper basket when I saw it; I believe it was—the basket was burnt down to the level—the top part of the paper was more or less burnt, and that protected the lower part.
Cross-examined by Valensin. I did not knock about the shavings with my feet—there were probably two inches of water on the floor—I did not ask you about the paraffin—I asked you if you could account for the cause of the fire, and you said you could not.
Re-examined. The Salvage Corps got rid of the water by ripping up the carpet and cutting a hole in the floor, and it went down into the basement—I have never seen a paraffin lamp explode; I have seen them afterwards—I have given reasons for thinking that the lamp was knocked off the table, and not exploded; I think the immediate vicinity of the explosion would have shown signs of it—there were some books and paper
on the table—I asked Valensin where the remains of the lamp were—he said he had left it standing on the table, shored up with books, as it had not a flat bottom—the other lamp was precisely similar in size, and the cradles of both were the same—the cradles were hanging from the roof in the shop; one had no lamp in it—Valensin told me that his master left about half—past eleven that night, and that he had never gone into the room after he left; he was still reading in the shop—he could see into the room from the shop, through the glass door; he could tell whether the lamp was burning when he went to bed.
JAMES FORD . I am Superintendent of the Salvage Corps in Commercial Road—I have had twenty—five years' experience of fires—about ten minutes to three on the morning of the 17th October I went to 9, Church Row—the fire was then extinguished—I went with Superintendent Smith, and made an examination of the premises by lamp—light—the pile of cigar—boxes between the two fires were affected by fire—on the floor at the bottom of the boxes I found a pile of shavings, partly consumed—they smelt very strongly of paraffin oil, exceptionally so—on the 24th, after the inquest on the 23rd, I was visiting the premises in the ordinary course of my duty, and I then took three samples of the shavings in front of the cigar—boxes—I counted the cigar—boxes between the doors; there were ninety—four empty ones and four full, placed on the tops—by the fireplace: there was the coal basket, on the top of which were some rags and shavings intermixed—I produce a sample—underneath the window there were some tin boxes stacked up, and on the floor a number of empty card—boxes, which apparently had been displaced by the firemen; and some shavings between the show—case and the writing—table—I smelt those; they were very strong of paraffin—at the bottom of the show—case there were shavings smelling of paraffin—later on, on the 2nd November, I made further examination—I then found that the under side of the table near the window was charred, and under the charred portion I found this waste—paper basket burnt at the edges—it contained some shavings which had accidentally been placed over it by the water, and beneath was some waste paper, a sample of which I produce—it smelt very strongly of paraffin, and smells very strongly now—it consists of empty card—boxes, and at the top were several full boxes of cigarettes—I saw the broken lamp—I have met with a great many cases of lamp explosions—I have examined the remains of this lamp—in my opinion it was not broken by explosion; the condition of the burnerpoints that out conclusively—it has indications of having been knocked over—if it had exploded it would have gone into a great many more pieces—it is an ordinary safety burner—I saw Valensin on the morning of the fire, about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after my arrival—I asked him if he could give any account of the occurrence; he said he could not—he said that he let his master out about half—past eleven, that he bolted the door and went down below to the lavatory with a candle, and then came upstairs, but did not go into the back room; in fact, he said he had not gone into the back room since his master left—I asked him if he knew that his master was insured—he said he did not—I went into the room over the shop; there was a bed in it, a sort of wicker—work, which they could use in the trade—it was not at all disarranged; it was of such a character that two persons would afford no indication of having
been in it—there was a diagonal line of smoke on the bed, showing that a quantity of smoke had come into the room from the stairway—I saw no connection between the different fires; they were entirely distinct.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I think, from their general appearance, that the fires had been burning about an equal time—Mr. Smith was there when I arrived—he did not give me any opinion as to the cause of the fire, he simply pointed to the fire by the cigar—boxes—when I entered I thought I was going into an oil—shop instead of a tobacco shop—I formed no impression till I saw the contents of the back room—there is very rarely a smell from the vapour caused by paraffin—this lamp is what is ordinarily called a safety burner—paraffin is a very funny thing—I have not had much experience of paraffin, but these burners are considered safe—a large number of fires are caused by the capsizing of paraffin lamps, not by explosion—an explosion would principally arise from a bad—fitting wick in a common burner—it allows of an aperture between the burner and the wick, so as to generate a vapour and cause the flame to descend, and cause a contact which makes an explosion; that is quite of a different character from the present case—if the lamp had merely fallen I should have expected more pieces of it remaining, but the debris has not yet been turned over; there are one or two small pieces lying about—one of them is stamped, "Suta Cigarette Company, 19, Leadenhall Street"—there was some loose tobacco in the basement, about four and a half pounds, and also about four and a quarter pounds in a packing—case in the back room first floor—I should call that a workroom, and there were several parcels of paper for making cigarettes—there were three work—benches in the upstairs room for the employees to work at—I do not know that Abib used it as a factory for feeding other shops—I found the remains of the waste—paper basket on the carpet under the table, about the centre of the end of the table, about fifteen inches from the end nearest the window.
PHILIP JOSEPH HASLOP . I am clerk to Mr. Langham, Coroner for the City of London—I was present on the 23rd October at an inquiry at the City Mortuary, Golden Lane, when the two prisoners were sworn and examined—I produce their statements, which the Coroner took down and read over to them, and they signed them. (They were read as follows:—"Zachariah Abib, 205, Walworth Road, cigarette maker, being sworn, saith: I carried on business at No. 9, Church Row, High Street, Aldgate, as a cigarette manufacturer, three or four months, as a weekly tenant I had previously carried on business at No. 8, Church Row, for three or four years. I was then tenant to Mr. Weiss. I paid 10s. per week rent. I paid the rent up to within a week. I cannot say exactly what was the nature of the stock at the time of the fire. It would consist of tobacco and cigars, and cigarettes, and tin boxes. The cigarettes are made of pure tobacco. I am insured in the North British and Mercantile Insurance Company for £500 for stock and fixtures. I don't know what I laid out for fixtures. I had a shop in St. Mary Axe, and I transferred it to the same place; it was retail in St. Mary Axe, and wholesale in Church Row. The tobacco is in brown paper. I had two lamps, in which I burned paraffin. Half a gallon of paraffin takes two days, and sometimes three days, to burn. One lamp on the table where I write, and one in the shop window. There is one room upstairs, and one smaller,
and the shop downstairs. The fire took place on Tuesday, the 17th inst, at 2.34. I was not on the premises. I left at half—past nine on Monday evening to go to another shop at St. Martin's Court, Charing Cross. I have a retail shop there. I came back at twenty minutes past eleven; I waited about ten or twelve minutes, and then left to go home to Walworth Road. My man came about six o'clock in the morning; he told me there had been a fire, and I went at once, and when I got there the fire was out. I left Moses Valensin on the premises when I went out at half—past nine, and I found him there when I went back at twenty past eleven, and I left him there when I went home. He slept there, and was on the premises at the time of the tire. He had nothing to do, but merely to take care of the premises. I could see the fire had broken out in the office when I went on Tuesday morning; it had broken out in one place in the office. I did not notice any shavings on the floor. I did not know these shavings were saturated with paraffin. I had not had any quarrel with Valensin, nor was he under notice to leave. Sometimes splints are used in packing, and some boxes had arrived two days before which contained these splints. These splints were put in a basket; they lay about at night, and are cleared up in the morning. By JURY: I always returned after coming from my West—end House. There was about 25 lbs. of tobacco, and about 30,000 cigarettes altogether. Altogether it would be worth £100. I owe about £200 for some tobacco and cigarettes. I do not give much credit. I can't tell exactly what is owing to me. I had a partner, but he left about four or five weeks ago. I owe the Suta Cigarette Company £40. I have been in St. Martin's Court for ten months, and I pay 8s. a week for the rent there. I cannot say what the value of the stock there amounts to. I have a retail shop in Walworth Road. I have no banking account; I pay everything in cash. Both myself and Valensin smoke on the premises; we smoke cigarettes. The policy produced is dated the 5th October, 1893; is for £500, from the 4th September, 1893, to 29th September, 1894, both inclusive, and is for stock, fixtures, and utensils.—Z. ABIB.
"Moses Valensin, 12, Stratford Houses, Wentworth Street, Commercial Street East, cigarette maker, and assistant to Mr. Abib, being sworn, saith: I have been in the employ of Mr. Abib for about two years. Mr. Abib was formerly at No. 8 and 9, Church Row, and moved into No. 9 altogether. I have slept on the premises, No. 9, since I have been there—I occupied the top floor. Mr. Abib carried on the business of a cigarette maker. I was there on the night of the fire. I went to bed about one o'clock. I was reading. I took a candle and candlestick up to my room. I used the paraffin lamp to read with, and I turned it quite out when I left off reading. I had a cigarette when downstairs. I woke up about half—past two; there was a bad smell and the heat I opened the door of my room, and the smoke came in. I opened the window and called out for help. A gentleman from next door came out, and told me to jump down, and after two men came and caught hold of my legs, and I got down. It is about ten or twelve feet from the window—ledge to the ground. There were cases containing splints with cigarettes; one was in the office. I do not know anything as to the value of the stock on the premises at the time of the fire. I did not know that Mr. Abib was insured until the morning of the fire, when I asked him. We had a fair business. The
fire broke out in the office; I saw where it was; there was no paraffin that I know of except in the can. I lighted the cigarette in the office, and I did not notice any of the ashes fall down. I do not know how the fire was occasioned. By JURY: I had half a gallon of paraffin in the shop. In the absence of the governor I take the money. There were lots of empty boxes. There were four people at work on the premises the day before. I do not know anything as to the value of the stock.—M. VALENSIN. Moses Valensin, being recalled, said, "I blew out the paraffin lamp when I left off reading; I blew it from the top. This lamp was in the office." WITNESS: This policy was produced by Abib. (This was a policy with the North British and Mercantile Assurance Company for £500, dated 5th October, 1893.)
ELI SALTER COLLINS (City Inspector). On the 23rd October I attended the fire inquest held by the City Coroner—after the verdict I took both the prisoners into custody, and took them to Bishopsgate Station—I there charged them with unlawfully and maliciously setting fire to 9, Church Row, with intent to defraud the North British Insurance Company—Abib said, "I know nothing about it; I was in bed"—Valensin said nothing—on that day I saw the carpet removed from the back room of 9, Church Row—it is here, and is marked to show the three places of distinct fires. (The carpet was produced, and examined by the JURY.)
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I do not know that Abib has any friends except the woman he was living with, and a young lady who keeps one of his shops—he had a shop in St. Mary Axe, but he sold it—I know he had a partner, a Mr. Weiss, and he had a shop in St. Martin's Court, the one in Church Row, and one at 205, Walworth Road, where he lived.
ROBERT PEACHEY . I am agent to the owner of 9, Church Row—in April last Abib applied to me for those premises—there was an agreement for a weekly tenancy of 11s. for the basement, ground floor, and first floor—there was only one week's rent in arrear at the time of this fire.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I generally collected the rent; sometimes I sent a clerk—I saw either Abib or his man employed there—he told me he only took the premises for stock.
ALFRED CHARLES BLACKALL . I am an inspector of agents for the London Amicable Accident Insurance Company, and live at 13, Theobald's Road—at the end of July this year I was agent for an insurance of a shop of Abib's at St. Mary Axe—I went to see Abib about a life policy, and he then spoke to me about a fire policy—he said he wished to transfer his policy from St. Mary Axe to Church Row, where he had removed his business—he also mentioned some other premises that he had, which he wished to insure—I did not take the addresses of those; one was in the neighbourhood of Charing Cross—the amount of the policy for St. Mary Axe was £300—I told him I had had so much difficulty in getting the money from him with regard to his life insurance, that I did not want to have anything to do with the matter, and he hail letter send in the notice of transfer himself to the North British Mercantile—I have held an agency for that company for a considerable time—on the morning of 17th October I met Abib in the Minories—he told me that a fire had taken place at the premises in Church Row—I said I presumed it would be a bad job for him—I did not know that he had affected an insurance—
he said he had transferred his policy from the shop in St. Mary Axe to the premises in Church Row, and increased it to £500—he asked me to send in a notice of claim to the company—I told him he had better send it himself—he said a friend was going to issue it. for him—I told him of course the assessor would be sent from the company—he then said, not understanding the language perfectly well, he would be much obliged if I would send in the notice; which I did, on his behalf, by that night's post—I asked him if he knew what the damage was—he said he had not been admitted into the place since the fire, but he was going to make a claim for £200—he was very excited, and did not appear able to give much information—he had only seen his assistant for a short time, and the only information he had was from him—he said he did not think £250 would cover him.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I think he must have been insured about nine months—an inspection was made of his premises at St. Mary Axe, and in consequence of that he insured for £300—an officer would not be sent to inspect in an insurance of an ordinary house; he would on business premises—the premiums would become due quarterly—he told me that his assistant was in the house, and that the fire was of a. serious nature.
JOHN RYLE . I am manager of the fire claims of the North British and Mercantile Insurance Company—this is one of our policies—on a. policy being surrendered an account of unexhausted premiums is taken—the premium was 4s. 6d. for these particular risks—the surrendered policy shows an insurance for £300—the annual premium of 13s. 6d. running from 18th November, 1892, to 25th December, 1893—the amount in the margin is the unexhausted premium of the other policy, for three months and four weeks, from 4th September, 1893—there is a surveyor's report on the premises, 9, Church Row—after the transfer of the policy a letter was received from Abib, stating that he desired the amount to be increased—we inspected the premises and the amount was made £500—if the inspector discovered any disparity between the amount proposed and the state of the property, it would be his duty to report it at once to the office—if there is any reason to suppose that there is an over insurance, the proposal is blocked, and if it is very bad it would be rejected.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. Abib appears to have gone to St. Mary Axe on 8th November, 1892—seeing the description of the house and the look of the stock enabled our representative to recommend the insurance for £300—a transfer is a matter of daily occurrence—I was not surprised at receiving such an application—I do not suggest any misrepresentation made by Abib to the company, or any concealment—he originally had part of No. 8 and the whole of No. 9—our surveyor inspected both houses in August—the percentage was not at all unusual—I heard Mr. Besley's opening as to the wretched description of the property, and I was somewhat surprised at hearing it.
Re-examined. I don't know what the business at St. Mary Axe sold for; we had no idea it had been sold—it is clear that our surveyor made his report on the footing that it was a transfer of stock and utensils of the same value—Abib intimated that he wanted £500, and that he was giving up the part of No. 8 that he had occupied, and as we did not suspect
him we did not consider the increase an unusual thing—it is a common thing to do.
By MR. WILLES. It is no uncommon thing for large city warehouses to take out short policies for large consignments of goods suddenly received—such short policies are dear—no keen man of business would be likely to adopt it, because he would be paying unnecessary premium—it might be a matter of calculation—I can hardly answer from the side of the public.
F.W. FOSTER (Re-examined). Since I was examined this morning I have been to the premises, and I have examined thoroughly the roofing of the bay window facing the court—it is covered with lead; it is flat, with just enough slope to throw the water off—not so sloping that there is no foothold—I found no difficulty in getting out of the window next door and standing on a similar flat, and walking on to this next one—I should have had no difficulty in dropping from it.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. There is a little string course of lead prevents your heels getting right back against the wall, but the place on which you stand is fifteen inches wide to the wall—it has the appearance of sloping because of the lead being hammered down over the top; but it has not that appearance from above.
NISSIM BEHAR . I am an Oriental merchant, at 1, New Street, Bishops-gate—on 6th October I sold Abib 60,000 cigarettes, which were delivered the same day packed in these two wooden boxes—there were more in one box than in the other—inside the wooden cases were tin boxes (this is one), each containing ten cardboard boxes, and in each cardboard box were 100 cigarettes—some of the cardboard boxes were blue (this is one) and some pink—the total price due from Abib in respect of those cigarettes was £98 odd—the terms of payment were two bills of exchange of about equal amounts, both at three months; but there was an understanding between us that I should renew one bill in case of necessity for another three months—it was practically three months' credit as to one—half the amount, and six months as to the other half—on 13th November I saw my two cases at 9, Church Row; the larger one was in the cellar empty, and the other one was in the back room with empty boxes in it, I think—I did not examine it to see what was in it—this business is really out of my way, and I cannot say whether shavings are used in packing cigarettes—I am not a cigarette importer, but these were sent to me.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. What is sent to me I dispose of at the best price—this is a real Turkish cigarette—these would be the boxes they came over to me in—there is no printing of any kind on the boxes, but some of the cigarettes are stamped "Guaranteed Turkey," and there is another quality in the pink boxes in which the name of the firm appears on the cigarette—there was nothing to prevent Suta taking these cigarettes with no name and repacking them—these blue boxes came from Turkey—these splints might come in the boxes from Turkey, or be put in the boxes in the docks when sample cigarettes were taken out—it might be necessary to go through the cigarettes to see if any I were damaged; they might come over mouldy if they were packed when the tobacco was damp—then they would have deteriorated in value—I had known Abib about two years—I knew him at St. Mary Axe, Wormwood Street, St. Martin's Court, Charing Cross, Woolwich, and Church Row, but not at
Frith Street, Soho—I knew from what I heard from him at times that he had all those shops—I had done business with him several times—I had a good opinion of him—he owed me a little money when he bought the 60,000 cigarettes; he has paid me since—I have always known him to be straightforward; I cannot say anything against him—I don't know where he is a native of, but I believe he comes from Smyrna—I have imported olives and Turkish delight for him from Constantinople—I don't know whether he has dealt in glass, but I know he has dealt in produce other than cigarettes—I imported a £35 parcel of olives for him; he has had good substantial parcels.
Re-examined. Thirty thousand of the cigarettes were in blue, and thirty thousand in pink boxes—these cigarettes do not fit these other pink boxes; they are a little tight—this pink box is smaller than the blue one—thirty thousand were marked with the name of a firm, and thirty thousand were not—the cigarettes in the pink boxes were of the same make as those in the blue boxes.
JACOB JALFON . I live and carry on business at 5, Cutler Street, Houndsditch—on 16th October I sold Abib 72 3/4 lbs. of Turkish tobacco at 4s. 4d. a lb., which came to £15 15s. 3d.—he paid me £7 deposit, and agreed to pay the balance next day—I delivered the tobacco myself at 9, Church Row, at a quarter to five—it was packed in eleven card—boxes and one tin box—this is one of the cardboard boxes—two weeks previously I had offered this tobacco to him—on the day he bought it Valensin told me to come inside, and he gave me a cigarette to smoke, and after a little while Abib came, and we made the transaction, and he told me to bring the tobacco before three if I could; I said I could not do it before 4.30, and I am sure it was 4.45 before I got there—he agreed to wait till 4.45 before buying elsewhere—when it was brought Abib weighed the boxes himself, and it was 72 3/4 lbs. net; and then he emptied four boxes into a large tin box, which he wheeled into the middle of the room, and one he put under the writing desk—then he gave me £7 deposit, and I went away, leaving the goods there.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. The day I sold the tobacco I was passing Church Row, and Valensin was standing inside; I looked in, and he called me in—Abib did not come to me—I am not a tobacco merchant—I do commissions for different people; I do not act as broker—my principal business is that of Oriental merchant—this was Turkish tobacco, to be made into cigarettes—I have known Abib since he came over here; I daresay for seven or eight years—I had no business with him; I used to buy cigarettes of him sometimes—they told me they had a shop in St. Mary Axe, and I knew of the Church Row shop—he always bore a good character; I have nothing to say against him.
GEORGE HITCHCOCK . I am a photographer, of 205, Walworth Road—there are six rooms in that house—I let the shop and two rooms behind it, one on a level with the shop, and one on a landing, two or or three stairs up, to Abib, at 30s. a week—he came in on 21st September last—he opened the shop for the sale of cigarettes and tobacco—a young woman came with him, and lived with him all the time he was there—he had about 5s. worth of furniture belonging to him in the place.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. He paid the rent every week—I was only in the bedroom once; there was a little bed and bedstead; they were
in the back parlour behind the shop—there was no room behind that; the third room they made a fowls' house of—I am landlord of the house, and live there—I did not take possession of the place directly I heard of the arrest—I closed the shop because I could not leave it open—the young lady who carried it on left my little child to mind it while she went away with an officer, and I sent to the Police—station to see if they had detained her, and I told the inspector they had left my little boy to mind it, and I should shut it up, and that was how I came to go through the bedroom, in order to shut it up—I have got a deputy tenant for the shop now, until we have had the place cleaned up.
GEORGE SKINNER . I am fourteen years of age—I am employed by Mr. Hammond, stationer, of 207, Walworth Road, next door to 205, of which Abib was tenant—on Monday evening, 16th October, about seven. I saw Abib drive up to the door of 205 in a cab—there were some cardboard boxes on the cab of mixed sizes, and a few cigar—boxes like these produced, and some smaller—they were on the top of the footboard and inside; it was a full load; there were about two bundles of between thirty and forty boxes—they were taken off the cab and taken inside 205—Abib took in two lots, and Miss Lock came and took them off him—it took about six journeys to unload the cab.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I was examined at Guildhall—I said there, "I saw him take two lots of boxes out of the cab into the shop," then he took them off the cab and gave them to Miss Lock"—Mr. Hammond called my attention to it—the inspector and another gentleman afterwards came and asked me questions about it, and they went into the shop; that was when the shop was closed by the landlord, after the prisoner was arrested—they spoke about the cab and the boxes—I had not thought much of it before that—there were more than eight boxes and two cigar—boxes.
Re-examined It was Inspector Collins who spoke to me, and another officer—I told them what I had seen—Mr. Hammond was there, and he said what he had seen; he is my uncle—I had been in his service five or six weeks.
HUGH DOUGLAS HAMMOND . I am a school stationer, at 207, Walworth Road—on an evening in October I saw a hansom drive up to 205; I think it was on a Wednesday—I have not the date down; it was the same occasion to which my nephew speaks—Abib was with the cab—there were several paper parcels on the cab; they appeared to be a mixture tobacco and cigar—boxes of different sizes—those produced are some of them—the parcels went in very quick—I noticed wooden and tin boxes; they were tied together in bundles—a person could remove a great many at one handling—there were two or three on the roof of the cab)—I saw Abib bring some from the inside and some from the footboard, and there were some on the seat—the doors were open; it was all done in a very few seconds—he took things in several times—a young woman was at the door; he gave her some to carry—then the cab went away, and he went into the shop.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I was standing at my door with the boy—the police came to me about this—they must have gone to the shop before coming to me—they asked me about the cab and boxes; they did
not suggest what was on the cab—they came to me a day or two after; it was pretty fresh in my mind.
Re-examined. It was Inspector Collins and Sergeant Abbott that came; it was after the inquest.
E.S. COLLINS (Recalled). It was on the 24th October that I saw the two last witnesses, the day after the inquest—I did not suggest anything to them; I only asked if they had noticed a cab on a particular night; no night was mentioned—the boy gave me the day of the week and the month—I afterwards saw such boxes in the shop—Miss Lock was in possession at the time—I told her not to have them moved, but afterwards I found they had been moved to a sale—room in Aldgate the next day—I got admission to the shop, and found that the whole of the goods had been cleared out—I caused inquiries to be made, and Constable Savage went there, and he gave me these boxes this morning, and there are three more and a bag containing two, which I had seen in Walworth Road, because I took the writing of the weights on the boxes—the bag contained 4 lbs. 12 oz. of tobacco.
WILLIAM SAVAGE (City Detective). By direction of Inspector Collins I went last night to Mr. Norman's sale—rooms, 62A, Aldersgate Street—I there got this catalogue, and saw Mr. Bowen—by their permission I brought here this morning these six boxes which have been spoken to by Collins, and also this bag—the things were sold yesterday.
BENJAMIN NORMAN . I am in partnership with Mr. Bowen, as auctioneers, at 62A, Aldersgate Street—this catalogue includes for sale the five boxes and bag of tobacco—it is headed in the catalogue, "Removed from Aldgate"—I cannot remember who put in those words; it must have been told to one of our clerks—I don't know that I could remember the person who brought them; I only saw him for a few minutes; he said he called from Mr. Farmer—they were brought on the 3rd November; the sale was fixed for yesterday, the 16th—besides these articles, a great number of cigarettes were sold, from Lot 1 to 31; they had all come together in one or two vans.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. Mr. Farmer is a well—known auctioneer in Gresham Street; the goods came from him to sell, he having no auction rooms, and we have—other auctioneers send to us instead of to the Mart—over 1,000 came, from Lots 21 to 30—no written instructions came with them, only verbal instructions from Mr. Farmer.
JAMES STAINES . I am a porter, and live at 199, Catherine Buildings, Cartwright Street, Royal Mint Street—I have several times done jobs for Abib—on 16th October, about seven in the evening, he asked me to take some boxes for him to the Elephant and Castle, from Houndsditch—I told him I could not go, but I would fetch somebody, and I got Michael Jones to take them—about a quarter to eight the same evening I saw I Valensin—I knew him before—he said the boxes were taken in a cab for 2s.
MICHAEL JONES . I am a labourer, of 43, Heath Street, Commercial Road—on 16th October, about seven, from what Staines said, I went to Church Row and saw Abib; he asked me how much I would take the boxes for on my barrow—I said, "Two shillings;" he offered one shilling, and then eighteen pence, but I would not do it at the price.
from Abib—I bought the stock—in—trade—I produce the inventory—I afterwards bought some more—he signed as having received the money—I selected what I would buy, and the other things were taken away.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I was asked last night to come and give evidence by a gentleman in private clothes, who gave me a subpœna—some time ago an inspector called and asked me some questions—I am in business there now; it is a pretty fair business—I have improved it very much—I did not buy the whole stock—I did not want to buy more than £24 worth at the time, but I bought some more of Abib afterwards; about £5 or £10 worth.
HENRY BOTTRILL . I am a cigar merchant, of 33, Royal Exchange—I have experience in valuing tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes—on 6th November, after the fire, I went to 9, Church Row, and made an inventory of all the tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes, and empty boxes, and put detailed prices on everything—in this inventory the sum total is £54 12s. 6d.—the inventory contains all the items—the stock was all more or less damaged by smoke—the £54 12s. 6d. would be the total value of the whole stock, taking a liberal view.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLES. I did not value the trade utensils or furniture, only the stock—to an incoming partner the utensils and furniture might be worth £30.
ABRAHAM SMITH . I am an auctioneer and surveyor, of 28, Finsbury Circus—last Monday I made an inventory of the trade utensils and fixtures at 9, Church Row—the total value of the damaged is between £7 and £8—the value of the fixtures and trade utensils, including some of the furniture, is between £14 and £15—some of them were not touched by fire.
JOHN RYLE (Recalled). In a fire policy the company is only liable for damage done to property not entirely destroyed, and by the usage of companies generally a claim should be made up, and is made up, showing amount of damage so much, and so much total loss—the claim does not include articles not affected by the fire.
This being the case for the prosecution, MR. BESLEY requested the opinion of the COURT as to his right of reply, and referred to the case of Reg. v. Trevelli and Others, C. C. C. Sessions Paper, vol. 96 p 110, and Cox. MR. WILLES referred to Reg. v. Brown, a decision on circuit by JUSTICES DAY and WILLS in 1887. MR. JUSTICE BRUCE considered the safer course would be at the end of the case as to Abib for Valensin to address the JURY after MR. BESLEY had summed up the evidence.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN LOCK . I reside at 205, Walworth Road, a cigar and cigarette shop—I have known Mr. Abib four and a half or five years, and during that time I worked for him—he had shops at St. Mary Axe, Frith Street, Soho, 23, St. Martin's Court, Charing Cross, 145, Walworth Road, and 8 and 9, Church Row, Aldgate—I was living at Walworth until he was arrested—I have often been to Church Row—I have known Valensin by speaking to him and working for Mr. Abib—sometimes Abib had four, sometimes five,
and sometimes more persons working for him at Church Row, manufacturing cigarettes—there were Sophy, Julia, and Beckey; I don't know their surnames—besides Valensin, there was Weisman; he was a cigarette maker—I looked after the shop at Walworth—I can make cigarettes—I used to get the tobacco from Abib—I never served at St. Martin's Court—a young girl named Susan Levy worked there; she can make cigarettes, but she attends to the shop—Mr. Abib would get the tobacco from Church Row; that was my first place—they had two lamps there, one in the window, one a little way in the shop, and one in the back room, hanging up against the wall—the oil would be got from Houndsditch—Church Row turns into Houndsditch; the back window looks into the church-yard—at first I used to clean those lamps; afterwards the servant did—I used to get half a gallon of paraffin at a tune—I sometimes cleaned them upstairs, and sometimes down—sometimes I used a duster, and sometimes I picked up a few shavings from the floor and wiped them round with—there was a carpet round the floor—unpacking was done in the back room—I remember Abib coming home in a hansom on the night of the 16th, about half—past six or seven—he brought with him some boxes of tobacco, and some cigarettes for me to make; he also brought two boxes of cigarettes for sale; altogether he brought eight boxes of tobacco—we had a good stock of cigarettes then; between 1,300 or 1,400, or more, and we had plenty of cigars to go on with—it would take me about an hour or three—quarters to make up a pound of tobacco into cigarettes—I could make up 50 lbs. of tobacco in three or four days—we sometimes sold cigarettes loose, sometimes by the pound—it was not an extraordinary quantity for Abib to bring—it is not true that he brought forty or fifty boxes on the cab—these are the boxes he brought; he did not bring any small boxes—I remember the inspector coming; these were the eight boxes that he saw—I heard that Abib was arrested the same evening—the inspector came to the shop about two or three days after—between the arrest and the inspector coming no goods were removed from the premises in Walworth Road; I was there the whole time—the inspector saw the whole of the stock that was there on the night Abib came in the cab—the goods were ultimately taken away on Thursday or Friday, after the inspector was there; they were taken away by Mr. Abib's direction; Mr. Yeates took them away.
Cross-examined. Mr. Abib and I did not live together, nothing of the kind; we lived in the same house, first at 8, Church Row—he removed from 8 to 9—he did not occupy both at one time—I used to work for him at 8—I decline speaking of where I slept, if you don't mind—it was about four and a half or five years ago when I was at Church Row; I was then nineteen, I am now twenty—four—I went from 8, Church Row into 9, and I remained there till I went to Walworth Road—I was there six weeks before the fire—when I was at No. 9 Valensin did not sleep there—this is one of the lamps that was in use there—I know it well—I used to light the lamp about six—I did not have the trimming of the lamps in October last year—I don't recollect the name of the person in Houndsditch who sold the paraffin—I never bought of a man in the street, always from the shop; the half gallon lasted two or three days—I filled them and cleaned them in the morning—the night I went away I told little Hitchcock to mind the shop—I did not stay away all
night; I came back about eleven or half—past—the shop had been closed then; it was not opened next day—the landlord kept me out three or four days—I did not get in till he gave me the key—I know the stock was marked on the covers of the boxes—these are the same boxes.
By the COURT. On the 16th Abib came home, about half—past six or seven—he remained about a quarter or half an hour; then he went away to the other shop—he came back about ten minutes or a quarter to twelve.
JULIA JACK . I am single—I live at 45, Brook Street, Stepney—I have known Abib about two years and a half—during that time I have been in his employ in Frith Street, Soho, and in St. Martin's Court and Church Row—I was there about two days before the fire—I then went back to St. Martin's Court—the governor let the place in Frith Street, and gave up the shop; I don't know why—I know these lamps; they were in Frith Street, and were taken from there to Church Row—at Frith Street I looked after them and cleaned them—there were two—one of them caught fire on several occasions, blazed all up the glass; it did not crack the glass—I took it out into the street and I blew it out.
Cross-examined. I had to clean the chimney afterwards—I purchased the paraffin for the lamps every two days, and filled them every morning—they would burn seven hours—two days before I left Church Row the lamps were there.
ARTHUR MUSKET YEATES . I am manager to Leopold Farmer, an auctioneer and surveyor, 47, Gresham Street—on 17th October Abib called with an introductory card from a Mr. Curtis, and I went with him to see the premises—I went into the back office and stood by the large table—I looked carefully round, and trod on something sharp; I picked it up; it was a small piece of the bowl of the lamp—the floor was strewed with boxes and books, and generally shavings, the ordinary tin shavings—by the side of the fireplace there were boxes and two books—I looked carefully on the table to see what was there; there were two books and a portion of the paraffin lamp, and on this side of the table, about six inches in, where the lamp had evidently stood, it had been burnt by the paraffin; I say from the explosion of the lamp—the rim of the table was not burnt—the salvage man objected to my moving any of the things—I afterwards valued the premises for Abib; on 3rd November, I think; on the same day as the other parties were there—my valuation was only a few shillings different from Mr. Bottrill's—I valued it to an ingoing tenant at some £30, and the cigarettes and stock at £54 10s. 11d.—I have been in business since 1866—I have been with Mr. Farmer three years as manager—I have been convicted of sleeping with a girl under eighteen—Mr. Farmer knew all about it; I would not go with him without telling him—I have been acting as his servant.
Cross-examined. Very possibly the late Recorder severely reprimanded me for the filthy letters I addressed to a girl under sixteen—when I stood in the dock I hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels—the girl was an immoral girl—I was in gaol six months.
GUILTY . ABIB— Five Years' Penal Servitude. VALENSIN was recommended to mercy by the JURY as having acted under the influence of Abib).— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 16th 1893.
Before Mr. Recorder.
THOMAS ABBOTT (City Detective Sergeant). On 13th October, about one a.m., I was in plain clothes with other detectives, Ottaway and Savage, in Middlesex Street, and saw Pearman, and two others not in custody, loitering about and examining the shop door of No. 49 three times, and on each occasion they went to the other side of the way and sat on the steps—an officer came up and they went away—I went with Ottaway and examined the door and the cellar flap—there were marks on the door where they had attempted to force it, and the rails of the cellar flap had been broken—we secreted ourselves in an unfurnished building on the same side, and about two o'clock the two prisoners, and one not in custody, went to No. 49, and were in a stooping position, and Pearman and the one not in custody disappeared into the cellar—the other walked rapidly away—we came out and ran te No. 49—Driscoll was coming out of the cellar—I collared him, and said, "We are police officers; we shall charge you with breaking and entering"—he said, "I only came here for a kip, his aunt lives here," meaning the man who escaped—kip means sleep, I believe—he became very violent, and I put this strap (produced) on his wrists—this jemmy was taken from Pearman—I went into the cellar and found a hat which Driscoll said belonged to him—a staircase in the cellar leads to the house, with a door at the top, which had not been opened—when they were charged at the station Driscoll said he did not know Pearman, and should like to stick a knife into him—Pearman said he picked the jemmy up, and that he was asleep when he was arrested—I saw marks on the cellar flap and on the door, corresponding with the jemmy—I found a small penknife on Driscoll.
Cross-examined by Driscoll. You were not there on the first occasion.
Pearman here stated that lye wished to
PLEAD GUILTY to the breaking, but not to entering.
JOHN OTTAWAY (913 City). I was with Abbott, and saw Pearman and two men not in custody—they went away, and later on I saw the two prisoners together—I have no doubt about them—they stood at the corner of the street shortly after two o'clock with a man not in custody, and then went to No. 49 and stooped down at the cellar flap, where two of them disappeared, while Pearman sat on the doorstep opposite—they were in the cellar two or three minutes and came out, and the other man was coming out of the cellar when Abbott caught him—I caught Pearman, and told him he would be charged with breaking into the shop opposite—he said, "I know nothing about it; I have been asleep on this" doorstep"—on the way to the station he tried to release his left hand—he said, "You may as well let me pull my trousers up"—I said I would oblige him, and under his trousers and waistcoat I found this jemmy—he refused his address.
Cross-examined by Driscoll. I was about thirty yards off when I saw
the three men—we secreted ourselves and watched, because we had information that a burglary was about to take place in Middlesex Street—we did not know where—no names were given us—we did not know who the men were.
Cross-examined by Pearman. I never took hold of anyone but you—I did not catch Myers coming up out of the cellar; he got a good start of me—I did not know his name was Myers till you mentioned it—you were making off', too; you were not asleep on the doorstep.
Cross-examined by Driscoll. I saw Pearman and two others—they went to the door of No. 49 three times, and I saw them in a stooping position by the door—you were in the cellar four or five minutes, and, when you came out, Sergeant Abbott and I caught hold of your arm—I went into the cellar, and saw the boards ripped up—I saw Sergeant Abbott take something off your wrist at the station; I don't know what it was—you were violent; you threatened me, and said, "I will do for you b——savages when I come out."
ALFRED VALENTINE . I am a clothier, of 21, Stangate Road, and own the house, 49, Middlesex Street—the upper part is occupied by a walking—stick maker—I only occupy the shop, which is divided by a partition—there are two entrances to the shop, but I go in from the main street, and there is a cellar underneath, running the whole length of the shop—there are two apertures in it quite large enough to admit a man, and right underneath there was an old box standing—the cellar communicates with the house—I was there at 10.45, but did not notice anything unusual.
MORRIS WEINBERG . I am a walking—stick maker, of 49, Middlesex Street—I slept there on 13th October—I did not notice any marks on the cellar flap the night before; it was all right just before three o'clock—the cellar belongs to me—I went down into it; nothing had been disturbed—there were only empty boxes there.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Driscoll says: "This man Pearman is a stranger to me; I reserve my defence." Pearman Bays: "I was walking by this street at 1.30 and saw this thing shining, and picked it up and put it in my trousers pocket, and sat down and went to sleep. Presently I heard a lot of people running, and I got up and walked away, and the constable took me.
Driscoll in his defence stated that lie was not there when the place was broken into, and did not come back till afterwards—that a young man offered him a bed, but as they could not get in they went down into the cellar to sleep, and that lie did not know Pearman. Pearman stated that a man named Myers, who was with him, tried to force the door with a jemmy, but could not, and then went away for an hour, and he (Pearman) sat on a doorstep till lie was arrested.
DRISCOLL then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this COURT on May 23rd, 1893, in the name of Alfred Cummings.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. PEARMAN*— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ORMSBY Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
LEWIS STOKES . My father keeps an hotel in Victoria Park Road—on September 15th I saw the cellar nap all right—I called on the 16th and found it broken and certain things stolen, and among them two coats of mine—the prisoner was wearing one of them at the Thames Police-court—this is it (Produced).
Cross-examined. Besides the coats, another coat, an umbrella, a mackintosh, some cigars, and other articles were stolen.
JOSEPH SIMMONS (Policeman J). On Saturday, October 7th, I saw the prisoner wearing this coat—I told him I was a police—officer, and asked him to let me look at it—he did—so; it answered the description, and I said, "Where did you get it?"—he said, "I bought it at Hyams"—I told him I should arrest him on suspicion of stealing a jacket—he said, "Very well"—Stokes identified the jacket—I told him he would be charged with committing a burglary at the Costed Hotel, and stealing articles—he said, "All right"—I asked him what number on Ludgate Hill Hyams lived at—he said, "I bought the jacket down Petticoat Lane"—I said that the jacket did not correspond with the waistcoat—he said, "I have the other at home"—I searched, but could not find it.
Cross-examined. I took hold of his waistcoat, and said, "This is a nice bit of stuff, but it is different to the coat"—he did not say, "Yes, I bought that at Hyams', on Ludgate Hill;" that referred to the jacket—he said nothing about buying a dress coat or suit in Petticoat Lane—he is wearing the dress—coat now; it is what a waiter would wear—I have been nine years in the force—I did not take a note of the conversation—I did not say before the Magistrate, "I asked him the number on Ludgate Hill where he bought the coat; "I said, "the jacket"—when charged at the station he said, "I am innocent, I know nothing about it"—I know that he had been discharged that morning by a Magistrate on some other charge, and that for a week before that he had been on bail—I have asked to see my depositions during this Session.
Re-examined. What I said was, "What number on Ludgate Hill does Hyams live, where you got the jacket?"
By the COURT. I am sure I am not mistaken, because the distinction was between a coat and a jacket, but I might have called it a jacket.
Cross-examined. I saw him again on October 7th, wearing the same coat—he had been at liberty from the 2nd to the 7th.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.
ANNIE PIPER . I am housemaid to Mrs. McKenzie, of 85, Philbeach Gardens—on October 11th I left the lavatory window about six inches open: there was a board inside, and nobody could get in without removing it—next morning I found the board removed, and put on the
floor, but the window was as I left it—the door had been locked the previous night—the key was outside—I found the door open, and marks on it as if it had been cut—the lavatory is on the ground floor, and looks into a garden which is common to all the houses.
JOSEPH HUDSON (Police—Inspector F). On 12th October, about 4.30 a.m., I was called to Phil beach Gardens, and found the house guarded by police, the window open, and the board removed—the door was cut away near the lock, and there was a jemmy mark—the door was bolted on both sides inside by the occupiers, and also on the other side by the w. c.—there was garden mould on Irwin's boots.
JOHN RATCLIPF (231 F). I was on duty in Philbeach Gardens about 2.30 a.m., and found a mark on the garden gate—I kept watch, and saw the two prisoners come up to the gate together, inside the garden—they saw me and ran back—whistles were blown, and I afterwards saw Richards in custody.
Cross-examined by Irwin. It was dark—I was about two yards from the men, but did not catch hold of them because they were the other side of the gate—I am sure you were one of them.
JOHN DAVIS (25 F). On 19th October, about three a.m., Ratcliff spoke to me and I got into the garden, but found nobody—I went back into the street and kept watch on the gate—Richards came out at a gate, at the opening, and I arrested him—he said, "All right, I have done nothing; I will go quietly"—I took him to the station, leaving a constable at the gate—the gardens were surrounded, and nobody could come out without being observed.
Cross-examined by Richards. I told the men to blow their whistles to oust you from your hiding—places, that you might think the place where I was was unprotected—that was close to where Irwin was apprehended, and near the opening which Richards came out of.
ALBERT YEO (Policeman F). On October 12th, about 3.45 a.m., I searched all the areas at Philbeach Gardens—I found some wirework broken down, which led me to footmarks and then to a dust—hole, where I found Irwin—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "I came here to see my young lady, and she will not let me in, so I came here"—his boots were very dirty, with mud all over them.
Cross-examined by Irwin. You were in the dust—bin, and you were tied in with a piece of string—I did not strike you, but I held you very tightly—I told you if you resisted I would knock you down with my truncheon—I did not say I had a revolver—I found you about. six o'clock—I had to search about two hundred areas in front of the houses—you were found at No. 98.
By the COURT. I did not know either of the men before—there was a cordon all round and no one could get from the back of the houses to the front.
HENRY BUTLER . I am gardener at Philbeach Gardens—early on October 12th I found a jemmy on the grass in the gardens, about fifteen yards from Mr. Brown's, No. 78—that is seven houses from No, 85—I handed it to the police—the houses have small gardens of their own as well as the public grounds.
in the mould in the garden, and I found corresponding mould on Irwin's boots and the boots exactly fitted the marks—they had walked very carefully on the mould so as not to be heard, and through putting down their feet carefully they made a better impression.
Cross-examined by Richards. I found mould on your boots, and they corresponded with the foot marks.
Cross-examined by Irwin. Your boots have evidently been cleaned and rubbed over with something; they are patent leather—you would have the opportunity of cleaning them in the cell.
A. YEO (Re-examined). Irwin's boots were covered with mould when I arrested him; they were clean when he was taken out of the cell—I told the Magistrate so.
Irwin, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that he went to see his young woman, and stayed in the dining—room all night, the family being away, and as he left Yeo took him. He denied all knowledge of the burglary.
They then PLEADED GUILTY** to previous convictions, Richards at Clerkenwell, in July, 1890, and Irwin at this Court on December 14th, 1891. RICHARDS— Three Years' Penal Servitude. IRWIN— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ARMSTRONG Prosecuted.
JOHN SILVER . I am a tailor, and live with my mother at 5, Westbourne Passage, Morgan Street—I went out about six o'clock, leaving my mother and the children—I shut the windows on the ground floor, and bolted the shutters—I went home about 6.45 and found the shutters and the windows open, and saw the prisoner come out at the window—he struck me, and I was bleeding all over, but I stuck to him till a policeman came—I missed a coat and a dress body—Mark Silver was with me.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I caught you by your coat; you came out head first—I did not see that you had anything.
MARK SILVER . I live at 51, Towers Walk, and am a sailor, and the cousin of the last witness—I was with him on October 30th, and saw the prisoner jump out at the window—I gave him a blow across his mouth, which made it bleed—I had bold of him for a few minutes.
SOLOMON ISAACS . I live at 18, Greenfield Street—I was in Westbourne Passage on the evening of 30th October, and saw the prisoner there—he said, "Is that you, Tommy?"—I said, "My name is not Tommy; get out of the way."
EDWIN WEST (15 HR). On the evening of 30th October I was on duty in Westbourne Passage, and saw John Silver holding the prisoner, who said, "This man has been into our house and stolen some things"—I took him in custody; he went very quietly for a little way till we came to a passage, when I was suddenly struck from behind, and he wrenched himself away—I knew him before as Ginger Bill.
be made by this knife, found on the prisoner—the framework was in a dilapidated state, and could easily be opened, and the shutters also.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MR. SIMES. I am a beerhouse keeper, of Morgan Street, Commercial Road—on the night of this burglary the prisoner was in my house four or five minutes before it occurred, and I said to him, "If you go round to he Captain Cook and have a drop of whisky, I will come round presently and pay for it," and four or five minutes after that the witness went outside—it is about eighty yards from my house to the premises where the window was opened—Detective White brought me a paper yesterday to come and give evidence—I knew that the prisoner was charged at the Police—court; I did not go there.
MARY TOMLINSON . I live at 63, Sidney Street, Commercial Road—my husband is a chairmaker; he is in Australia—I do laundry work at Mr. Wells's, but am not working for him now—I saw the prisoner at a public—house, and I saw the landlady—I had never seen him before—I heard him say, "Let us come to the Captain Cook, and have a drop of whisky," and they went out, and in four or five minutes I heard a noise, but did not go out—I went to the Police—court.
CHARLES MOORE . I am a baker, of 156, Kennington Park Road—I am not in work now; I worked last for Mr. Simmonds three months ago—three of us went to Mr. Simes' house to have a drink, and the prisoner was there—he went into the court, and was making water—we heard a whistle, and saw a constable holding the prisoner; he had not been three minutes away from me—he could not have got to the window—I said, "Let the man alone; what has he done?"
Cross-examined. I did not help him to escape—I was about fifteen feet from the window—I did not see him escape from the policeman, because I was in the middle of the street with his wife, who was crying.
The prisoner in his defence stated that lie was making water in the court when the prosecutor seized him, and said, "You have come through my window," upon which lie said, "You are a liar!" and the constable took him, but let go of his wrists and lie ran away, but was taken again. He contended that if lie had stolen the things, they must have been found on him.
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court on April 25th, 1887.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 16th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
WALTER RICH . I am a wheelwright, of Hanbury Fields, Mile End New Town—on 10th October, at a quarter to seven p.m., I was walking along Shoreditch wearing a watch and chain, which had cost five guineas and two guineas respectively—my overcoat was open; my morning coat
buttoned at the top and showed the chain—I looked up at the New Music Hall, which was lighted up. as building was going on—as I did so I saw the shadow of a hand come down and I felt a severe tug at my chain—for a moment I did not realise my position—I put my hand down and said "You devil!" and ran after him down Plumber's Row—I had no opportunity of seeing the man's face, as he ducked his head when he turned—the prisoner is of about the same height and stamp as the man, who was slight and had dark clothes on—I afterwards went to the Police-station and gave a description—I subsequently saw the prisoner in a room at the Police—court—two or three constables and a witness were in the room—I did not recognise the prisoner.
SOLOMON FRANKS . I am a carman, living at 71, Long Street, Hackney Road—on 10th November, in the evening, I was in Bateman's Row, near High Street, Shoreditch, at little before a seven—I saw the prisoner running away—I knew him by sight; I have been knocked down by him and his pals—I was about two yards from him—he ran from the direction of High Street, Shoreditch, into Norfolk Gardens—I saw the chain hanging down—I spoke to a constable about it—I next saw him at Worship Street Police—court on 26th October, and recognised him at once—I did not see him between the 10th and 26th—on the 26th I heard the prosecutor say he had lost his watch, and I gave a description of the man.
Cross-examined. When I saw you running, if the man had halloed I should have stopped you.
The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence Mated that lie knew nothing about the matter.
FREDERICK JAMES SAMUEL . I live at 82, Brady Street, and am a surgeon's assistant—on 15th October I was walking along Thomas's Place about 4.20 p.m., and just as I got to Ryder Street, across the passage, someone jumped on my back, and put his knee in my back and his arms round me, and I was surrounded by two gangs of thirty or forty, who had been playing pitch and toss—I was wearing a locket and chain of the value of about £2, which they snatched—I swerved and got loose, and broke the chain in so doing—someone ran off with the chain—the prisoner was holding me in front, while the other people acted as I have described—I had a good view of him—I have not the slightest doubt about him—I tried to run after the man with my chain, and stones and dirt were thrown at me—I went to the Police—station and gave a description of the prisoner and three or four others—on 25th October I was taken to the Police—station, where I at once picked out the prisoner from others without the slightest difficulty—on the 24th, the night before I picked him out, I saw the prisoner standing by the public—house at the corner of Brady Street with other boys—I at once identified him, and showed him to an officer, and the prisoner ran away immediately.
WILLIAM BISSELL (166 G). On 25th October I saw the prisoner in the Whitechapel Road, and took him into custody—I told him he would be charged with stealing a chain from the person on the 15th—he said he knew nothing about it—I took him to the station.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was in bed at the time."
The prisoner called
ELIZABETH CHAPLIN . I live at 7, Abingdon Street, Bethnal Green, and am your mother—on the Sunday week before your arrest you did not get up till two, and then you laid down again and got up to have your tea, and went to bed, as near as I can say, about half—past eleven—you did not go out all day—you very rarely go out on Sundays.
Cross-examined. I cannot recollect what time he went to bed on the Sunday or Monday before this, or on the Sunday after—a gentleman told me about it on a Tuesday night, and said it happened on Sunday week, and I said my son was never out that Sunday—I cannot remember the time my son got up on the Sunday before the Tuesday when I was told; I did not look at the clock—the gentleman told me my son was taken on suspicion—I cannot tell you on what suspicion it was—my son generally gets up at nine on Monday—I cannot remember all the times; I should say he got up at nine on the morning before the gentleman spoke to me—my son generally goes out at nine on week—days—I cannot tell exactly what time he goes to work; he returns about seven, and on Saturday at one or two.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that lie did not go outside the door on the Sunday.
GUILTY . †— One Year and Eight Months' Hard Labour on each indictment, the sentences to run concurrently.
MR. HODGSON Prosecuted.
GEORGE BEECHAM . I am a comedian, of 13, Hanford Road, Brixton—on Monday, November 6th, I left the Royal Holborn Music Hall about 10.30—I drove to Theobald's Road, and went to the White Hart—I was there till 12.25—I was about to enter my brougham, when Stafford asked me if I wanted a penny baked potato—I said, "No, I don't want a potato"—he asked me a second time—I said, "No"—he made use of an offensive expression, and said, "Perhaps you can't afford a penny one, have a halfpenny one," and with that he violently pushed or struck me on the neck, and I fell on the pavement and cut my forehead—I was about to rise, when, to the best of my belief, Newman snatched my mohair watch-chain, and my watch came out with a seal—I wrenched the watch out of his hand, breaking the bow, but he went off with the chain and seal, which I estimated to be worth about £4; it was a presentation—Detective Collins came up and arrested Stafford—Newman made off—I went to the Police-station, and charged Stafford—next morning I went to the Police-station, and picked Newman out of about twenty persons.
Cross-examined by Stafford. I did not come up to your can and ask for a halfpenny potato—I did not say I would give you a penny for it, or throw it on the ground, or say I would knock your head off—you did not push me from your can to save me from being burnt—I was not near your can—you addressed me as George as soon as I came but of the house.
Cross-examined by Newman. I say you are the man, to the best of my belief—when Collins took me into the room to see if I could identify you he said, "Can you find here the man you think took your watch?"—I pointed to you, and Collins said, "Go over and touch him"—he said that after I had pointed you out—you had my watch in your hand; I took it from you.
GEORGE STACEY . I live at 46, Royal Road, Kennington, and am Mr. Beecham's coachman—on 6th November I was driving his brougham—about 12.30 he came out of the White Hart, Theobald's Road; I was on the box—Mr. Beecham went to the back of the brougham—I heard a cuffle, and turned and saw Stafford striking Mr. Beecham with both hands in the chest and felling him to the ground—he cut his head—Newman was in the scuffle, and ran away—I saw him a quarter of an hour before Mr. Beecham came out of the house standing and talking to Stafford by the potato—can which Stafford had outside the public-house—I am sure Newman is the man who ran away—I jumped off my box to run after Newman, but my legs caught in the reins, and I fell between the wheels and cut my hand—I saw Newman next morning at the Police-station, and identified him out of about twenty.
Cross-examined by Stafford. I followed you and the constable to the station.
Cross-examined by Newman. I did not see any barrow there; I did not know you had one—I am positive that I saw you.
FREDERICK COLLINS (Detective Constable). About 12.30 on 6th November I was off duty going home when I saw the prosecutor about, to enter a brougham outside the White Hart Stafford struck him and feiled him to the ground—Newman made a snatch at his watch—chain, and ducked round the brougham, and Stafford ran in one opposite direction towards the fire—station—I ran and caught him half—way across the road—he struggled violently—the policeman on duty ran across the road, and I handed Stafford to him—I picked the prosecutor up; he said, "They have got my watch and chain"—I found he was bleeding from the head—he handed me this watch—I drink Stafford made no answer to the charge at the station—I know both prisoners well by sight—I went the same night, about two, to 28, Branstone Place, with Pannell, and knocked at the top front room—Newman said, "Who is there?"—I said, Police—he said, "All right, sir"—he opened the door—I told him I was a police—officer, and should take him into custody for being concerned with another man for robbery with violence in Theobald's Road—he said, "Not me, governor; I was packed up and home before half—past twelve to—night"—I took him to the station; he was charged—he said it wasn't him; I had made a mistake—I knew before this where Newman lived—next morning he was picked out of a number of men by Stacey and Beecham—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man; I know him well.
Cross-examined by Stafford. I was twenty or thirty yards away, coming towards the brougham—Beecham walked across from the door of the public—house, and was about to enter his brougham from the pavement when you struck him—he was not round your can; no customers were round it—I saw the baked potato—can in front of the brougham—you were about fifteen yards from the brougham when I arrested you—you
were running away from the potato—can—Beecham was not in drink; he might have had a glass—when I picked him up he seemed a bit dazed from a nasty cut on his forehead—he knew what he was about; he was not under the influence of drink—the brougham was turned round and driven after you to the station.
Cross-examined by Newman. You ran away round the brougham—I did not see your barrow—Beecham was on the pavement—the coachman jumped down and ran after you, I believe; I am not sure—he hurt his hand.
By Stafford. I was not the worse for drink when I charged you—the inspector did not say he had a very good mind to charge me with being drunk—my head was bleeding frightfully, and I was dazed—I could scarcely see; my brains were all mixed.
HANNAH HINDS . I am a widow—I live in the same house and in the next room to Newman, who lives with his wife and child—he goes out with an oyster barrow—on the night of 6th November I heard him come in, as near as I can guess, about 12.15; I heard a clock go a quarter—I heard the police come to the house—our house is ten or fifteen minutes' walk from the White Hart.
Cross-examined. I went to bed about eleven that night—I am very wakeful at night—I heard the quarter, and I heard the half—hour strike after Newman came up and locked his door—some little time after I heard the police come—I could not tell the time, because I have not got a clock; I had not gone to sleep—I heard the clock strike the half-hour after he came in, and then a quarter to one, and one, and half—past one, and I was awake till it went two—I cannot exactly tell you when the police came; I know it was a long time afterwards—I told the Magistrate I thought they came after one—I am sure Newman did not come in at a quarter to one.
Cross-examined. I went to a beer—shop to get some beer at the time—I saw him coming up, and I saw him at the door putting his things downstairs; his wife, I think it was, behind him—I was not two minutes going to the beer—shop and back, and when I came back I saw Newman still at the door—I went to my room, and when he came up I asked him if he had shut the door—that was about quarter—past twelve.
Stafford in his defence asserted his innocence. Newman said he got home a little after twelve and did not go out again till after his arrest.
NEWMAN then PLEADED GUILTY*! to a conviction of felony in December, 1888.— One Year and Ten Months' Hard Labour. STAFFORD†— Eighteen Months Hard Labour.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
of tobacco, and gave me a shilling, which I tried in the tester; it bent—I told him it was counterfeit—he then tendered me another shilling which also bent—I told him it was also counterfeit, and asked him where he got them from—he said that day Mr. Morris paid him 13s. 4d., wages for work he had done, and he must have given them to him—I told him to go back to Morris's and to get them changed, and if he refused to change them, to break up the coins and throw them away—I gave him the two coins back—I next saw the prisoner in custody passing my shop—I cannot say if these are the coins; they are very much like them.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You are the man—I bent the shilling in the tester slightly, but before I told you to go back I straightened it—you were intoxicated when you came into my shop.
BENJAMIN MORRIS . I am a stick maker, of 245, Whitechapel Road—the prisoner worked for me at odd times when I could give him work—I did not pay him 13s. 4d., or any money, on that day—I have never paid him such a sum at one time—on Monday, 16th, I paid him 1s. 8d., and that was all I had recently paid him.
Cross-examined. I did not pay you about 3s. on the Wednesday.
Re-examined. Shortly after ten on the night of the 19th I was standing outside my door, and the prisoner asked me to have a drink with him.
ADA BEER . I am an assistant at the shop of Mr. Walters, a confectioner, 44, Whitechapel Road—shortly after ten on the night of October 19th, the prisoner came in for a bottle of lemonade, and gave me this shilling—I gave him a sixpence and 5d. bronze—I put the shilling in the till with other silver—after that Mr. Belcham came in—I went to the till and found the shilling which I had taken from the prisoner—I gave it to Mr. Belcham—he bent it with his teeth.
Cross-examined. The shilling was not bent before Mr. Belcham bent it.
HERBERT BELCHAM . I am a bootmaker, of 250, Whitechapel Road—on night of 19th October I went to Mr. Walter's shop, after Bostock had spoken to me—I spoke to Miss Beer—the prisoner was in the shop, but he could not hear what I said to her—she gave me this shilling from the till; it was not bent—I bent it with my teeth, and afterwards I gave it to Bostock.
DAVID BOSTOCK (298 H). On the night of 19th October I saw the prisoner repassing Mr. Tuck's shop, 295, Whitechapel Road—he kept going up and down, and looking in at the door—I kept observation on him—he went in the shop, and was there two or three minutes—when he came out he went up the Whitechapel Road—Mr. Tuck followed him to the door, and made a communication to me—I called another policeman, and followed the prisoner up the Whitechapel Road—he stopped at No. 245, and spoke to Mr. Morris; then he entered 44, Whitechapel Road, where Miss Beer is employed—Belcham came out to shut his shop—I spoke to him, and he then entered Mr. Walter's shop—the prisoner then came out and passed me—Belcham came out and spoke to me, and handed me this counterfeit shilling—I went after the prisoner and overtook him in about fifteen yards, and I said, "Come back with me to the shop; I want to search you"—the prisoner said, "What for, governor?"—I took him to the shop and searched him, and found in his trousers pocket this other counterfeit shilling, three good sixpences, sixteen pence, and a halfpenny
—he was taken to the station and charged—he said, in answer, "I was paid off to—day, 13s. 6d., by my master, Mr. Morris, and he gave me the bad money."
Cross-examined. I put my hand in your pocket; you took the money Out.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that a man in a public-house gave him two half—crowns, which he changed, the last one at the Rodney Head, where they gave him two shillings. GUILTY .—
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction in July, 1888, at this Court, of unlawfully uttering.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
39. HENRY THATCHER, Unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, from Hermann Lea, 7s. 1d. and 13s. 4d., with intent to defraud. Other Counts, for attempting to obtain money from different persons, and with making false entries in his masters' books.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted.
JOHN HENRY WILLIAMS . I and John Edward Lea are members of the firm of Wertheimer, Lea and Co., printers, of Circus Place, London Wall—the prisoner has been in our service for ten years; he was the head man in the wetting department; only one other man, Holmes, was in that department—the prisoner had, as well, the general stock of paper to look after, and give out for the machine—wetting consists in preparing paper for the printing machines—the prisoner had a salary of £2 a week for his ordinary work, which ended at seven o'clock—his hours were fifty—four a week, an average of nine a day—when we were busy he would be allowed to stop and work overtime after seven o'clock at 10d. an hour—the following day it was his duty to make out an overtime voucher, which would be signed at the end of the week by our manager, Mr. Plackett—he had no means of checking the overtime; he took the word of the servant—the prisoner having made out the ticket, and Plackett having signed it, it would be handed to Hilman, a foreman of the warehouse, who on the Friday would make up the wages sheet from the vouchers received during the week and the ordinary wages—other men would be under the fore-man, who would be able to check them, but the prisoner and Holmes worked in a place by themselves, and we had no means of checking them—the wages sheet would include the overtime, down to the previous Thursday night—Mr. Hermann Lea paid the wages on the wages sheet and vouchers—early in October I gave instructions to Limmer, the timekeeper in our establishment, to watch the prisoner—in consequence of what he told me I sent for the prisoner on the 14th October, and, in Plackett's presence, I said to the prisoner that some little time ago, when he was ill and not able to come to work, we paid him his wages, and then later on, when he wanted an advance, we advanced him £10 and I asked him if he did not think it was rather an extraordinary way to repay us by systematically robbing us as. I heard he had been doing for the past year—he denied that, and said he had never robbed us—I then took that voucher dated 13th October, and asked him how it was he had written three hours overtime the previous evening when he had left our place at eight—he made no answer—I asked him (he was looking at the voucher of 11th October) how he had
written twelve hours overtime when he had left at 8.40—he then said he had been in the habit of going oat to supper—I said, referring to the special night, "If that was the case, how was it you took your bag with you, put your ticket on the hook, and said, 'Good night' to all around you?" and I asked him how it was possible for him to come back to our place when the front door was always locked, and the back door was always locked at night not later than half—past eleven—he said he had been in the habit of working twice as hard during the day in order to get away early at night—that was the only explanation he offered—I told him to go back to work—I was away the greater part of that morning—I believe our manager told him to go—he saw me again in the afternoon, and asked me whether he should go or not—I told him to please himself—he left that day—these two bundles of vouchers are all filled up in his writing—in each case the date on the voucher is the day next subsequent to the day when overtime was worked—I find in the two bundles vouchers dated July 29th, August 2nd, 5th, 9th, 12th, September 2nd, 9th, 30th, and October 4th, 7th, and 11th—in each of those he claims twelve hours overtime, from seven to seven the preceding night—in this voucher for October 13th he claims for three hours overtime, from seven to ten during the preceding night—if he left at half-past ten on September 9th and September 30th there would be an overcharge of eight hours and a half in respect of each day, which would amount to 78. 1d.—if he overcharged eight hours in the voucher of October 4th it would be an overcharge of 6s. 8d.
WILLIAM HENRY HILMAN . I am foreman in the prosecutors' employ—the prisoner handed me these two bundles of overtime vouchers in the ordinary course on the days they bear date—I submitted them to Mrs. Plackett to be initialled—I made up the wages sheet from them—the wages sheet for the week ending 16th September shows £2 14s. 2d. as due to the prisoner, including twelve hours' overtime claimed by the voucher of September 9th—I believed when I made up the sheet that he had worked twelve hours that night—I found on the wages sheet for the week ending October 7th, £3 10s. as due to the prisoner, including twelve hours overtime in each voucher for September 30th and October 4th—I believed he had worked that time, and centered it on Plackett's signature—I relied on the voucher initialled by him.
THOMAS PLACKETT . I am general manager to Messrs. Wertheimer, Lea and Co.—it is my duty to initial the overtime vouchers—I initialed these and other overtime vouchers sent me by the prisoner from time to time—I had no means of checking the overtime he worked; I relied on his honesty—I authorise Mr. Hermann Lea to pay on the time stated on the vouchers—I was present on 14th October and heard the conversation between Mr. Williams and the prisoner.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You were there to do your duty, as wetter in the waste—paper department—no special engagement was made with you by any particular partner in the firm; you were only in the firm as anyone else was—I left it to you to exercise your discretion as to how late you worked—you had no discretion to charge twelve hours when you only worked three—in the cases of other workmen I had a check and exercised it—I had full confidence in your honesty—after I knew you
were committing a fraud I still initialled the vouchers, so that we could see how you worked—on the last three occasions I initialled them.
By the COURT. If the prisoner had worked twelve hours overtime he would have worked all night and day.
HERMANN LEA . I am a clerk in Messrs. Wertheimer and Lea's counting—house—it is my duty to pay the wages on Saturday on the wages sheets, as being the amount correctly to be paid for wages and overtime—I paid to the prisoner on September 16th £2 14s. 2d., and on 7th October £3 10s., those sums appearing on the wages sheet, and I believing they were due.
Cross-examined. You were not engaged with me in stock—taking the whole of the week beginning October 2nd; for one or two days, in the morning, you were not engaged—for six or seven hours a day that week you were engaged in stock—taking, I should think.
Re-examined. In all probability that would involve his working after hours—I make no complaint of his working after hours—the question is how long he worked.
CHARLES HOLMES . I am at present out of employment—I live at 15, Larnaker Street, Bermondsey—I was in the employment of Wertheimer, Lea and Co. up to three weeks next Saturday—in November, 1892, I was working in the wetting department under the prisoner's orders—he said to me, "Let us get our work done as quick as we can, and get away home"—he said we could continue writing our vouchers as usual—I always worked overtime when the prisoner did so, and for the same time—we both left together—since the beginning of July we have never stayed later than 11.30—we worked in the basement, which lately was always locked up by Limmer by half—past eleven—41/2 hours overtime was the most we ever put in in one day since 1st July—I knew the prisoner was charging on many occasions for twelve hours overtime since July—I saw the vouchers he filled up, frequently charging twelve hours—I knew the entry was untrue—I filled up vouchers of my own in the same way corresponding to the prisoner's, and I was paid on them for what I never worked—sometimes we left earlier than half-past eleven; I cannot remember the precise times—sometimes we left at seven; sometimes we worked for one, two, or three hours overtime.
Cross-examined. Sometimes you have worked in your dinner and tea hours—you have, sometimes never left the premises from eight a.m. to 11.30 p.m. for a bit of food or rest; you have done without your dinner, tea, and supper—an hour was allowed for both dinner, tea, and supper, three hours in all.
Re-examined. We were compelled to work overtime when we were busy, at the extra pay—when we worked during the dinner and tea hours we were entitled to charge it as extra time—the rule was to charge that overtime by a separate voucher—we did not so charge it, but put it altogether—the hour for supper was only allowed if we stayed after twelve—if we had worked both dinner and tea times, we were entitled to charge 11/2 hours overtime; we charged 71/2 hours.
By the COURT. I saw this was a wrong thing to do—I did not take it we were defrauding our masters—I took it; as the prisoner said, that if we did the work and went home we should not be defrauding anyone—I thought if we did as much work in four hours as, in the
ordinary way, we should do in twelve hours, we had a right to charge for twelve hours—I did not tell my employers we were charging for twelve hours—I should say that if we did our duty to our employers we ought to do as much work in an hour as was possible to be done—I had not been accustomed to this class of work before.
ARTHUR LIONEL LIMMER . I am timekeeper at Messrs. Wertheimer, Lea and Co.—it was my business to lock up the basement at night after the prisoner and Holmes had gone—the latest time I have locked up the basement since 1st July is 11.30; I have then left it in darkness, with no one there, and it was impossible for anyone to get access to it till the morning—I first specially marked the time when the prisoner left work on 3rd October, after receiving instructions—on October 3rd I locked up the premises at eleven o'clock; the prisoner and the other men had all gone then—on 6th October I locked up at ten o'clock, on October 11th at seven o'clock; there was no overtime on that day—on October 10th I locked up at 8.40, and on October 12th at eight o'clock.
Cross-examined. When I locked up at 8.40 on October 10th the place was all in darkness, and no one was there, and no one worked afterwards.
Re-examined. I was keeping special observation at that time, under directions—I made this note of the times at the time.
Witness for the Defence.
CHARLES WILLIAM IVESON . I am a printer in Wertheimer, Lea and Co. 's employment—on September 29th I should say that three or four machines worked all night, but we were only making ready—on October 2nd Weldon's Magazine would be started, and two machines would be working—I should say about four machines would be going on October 5th—on October 6th there would be three or four—on October 9th there would be two, and on October 10th, two—on October 6th and 12th the machines would be working all night.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had nothing to do with working the machines, which were in a separate part of the building, divided by a passage—the prisoner's business was simply to prepare the paper before-hand to be used in the course of the night—if machines were working all night I should say it would not be possible for him to prepare all the paper in two or three hours; I could scarcely tell how long it would take—there is a difference in the way people work.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he never had the slighest intention to rob his employers of a halfpenny, but that he had worked hard, and had given up his meal and spars times to their work.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. KYD Defended.
GUILTY of committing acts of gross indecency. SCARBOROUGH— Eighteen Month Hard Labour. DONOVAN— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 17th, 1893.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. H. AVORY Prosecuted; MR. GEOGHEGAN appeared for Stepto, and MR. GILL for Wilkins.
WILLIAM PENN . I am undergoing sentence for stealing meat from Messrs. Lambert; I pleaded guilty last Sessions—Stepto was an assistant in the shop—it was my duty to weigh the meat—Wilkins is a butcher in Whitecross Street—he was in the habit of coming to the shop and dealing with Messrs. Lambert—in July last Gillons and Stepto and I arranged to send meat to Sunlight through Stepto, as Gillons was tried and convicted here. (See Vol. C XVIII., p. 1266)—on 14th July Sunlight came to the shop, and Gillons and I told him to take some meat—it was my duty to put meat which was sold at the back of the shop for the porter to take away in the afternoon—we finished about five or 5.30, and Stepto, Gillons and I went to a public—house at the corner of Whitecross Street—Stepto left us at the corner of Redcross Street, and said he was going to see Wilkins; he came back with Wilkins, and Wilkins and I went to a public—house, where he gave me £6 10s. for the meat he had had—we guessed it at fifty—two to fifty—four stone, at 2s. 6d. a stone—it had not been weighed, but I think Wilkins said he had weighed it—he offered me £6; I took £6 10s., and gave Gillons £2, Stepto £2, and Sunlight 10s.; that left me £2 for myself—we arranged to have a hind-quarter of beef—I do not recollect the date—Sunlight took it from the shop; Stepto told him to fetch it—I received something under a sovereign from Stepto as my share—he said he had been to see Wilkins, who paid him somewhere about £3—after that two top sides were taken, after which I met Wilkins—he said he had seen Stepto, and they could not exactly agree about the price of it, and told him to leave the money till he had something else, and said, "Bring me something worth having, and I will pay you altogether"—the market value of the beef which Wilkins paid me £6 10s. for was about £14—I was taken in custody on September 1st—before I was brought up here I made a statement to the Inspector of the Meat Market.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I know Sunlight—I think he knew the meat was stolen—he had to take it about half a mile—the meat is delivered from the back of the shop.
Re-examined. I was sentenced here to nine months and Gillons to nine months—meat was taken from all parts of the shop.
WILLIAM GEORGE BELSON I have been a licensed porter in the Meat Market seven or eight years—I knew Stepto working at Lambert's—it was my business to carry meat to the butchers—about the end of July I went into the shop, and Stepto said the meat was not ready—I then took two plates and a dish, which I had on a barrow outside, to Wilkins, and
saw Gillons in the shop, and Harcomb or Hallcock—I told Mr. Wilkins I had got some articles; he told them to see them put in the shop—I went to Lambert's about one o'clock; Stepto came out and piled some meat up on my shoulder, and I took it to Mr. Wilkin' shop—he said it was all right—I told him it came from Lambert's; he gave me a shilling for myself—I did not take a ticket, and Wilkins did not ask me for one—it was a little after two o'clock when I came out, but I waited till the customers had gone, and then we went to a public—house at the corner of Whitecross Street—I got 10s; I generally get more than that; Saturday is the best day in the week—I had carried meat from Lambert's shop before July 14th at Stepto and Gillons' orders—they took a quarter of beef on the following Friday; I fetched it from the shop by Stepto's instructions—Gillons was in the shop—I put it on Wilkins' barrow, which was outside the market—Stepto showed it to me, but I did not see anybody in charge of it—there was other meat on it—I believe his name was on it—it is usual for a butcher to leave his barrow and collect all the meat—Stepto gave me three shillings, but that was not for that job alone—on August 4th I took two top sides to Wilkins—he told me to put them at he back of the shop—he did not ask me for any ticket or invoice—after Penn was locked up I met Stepto, who said that Bill had rounded on him, and if anybody asked me anything about it to say that Penn was telling lies, and he and his friend did not want to be brought into it, and I must swear blind that he had nothing to do with it—I said that I had enough to do for myself—I rim known as Sunlight in the market because I use Sunlight soap.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. After the market is shut you can get meat out if you get a pass—we never take invoices—when we deliver meat to a butcher he does not always pay, and sometimes the person who employs you pays you; sometimes you have to wait a week for your money—it took me about half an hour to get from the market to Wilkins' place—I do not think you could walk it in five minutes without a barrow—they said the meat was not ready, and four of us went to a public-house—I saw money pass from hand to hand, but did not know what they were doing—I got my 10s. after five o'clock, after the market closed—there is a desk at Lambert's place.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have made several statements in writing; the first was after he came to me and said Bill had rounded on him.
By the COURT. I gave evidence against the men who were brought up last Sessions—I knew that Penn was locked up for stealing meat—10s. is less than I sometimes make on Friday—I pay 1s. for my barrow—I make more than £2 a week—I did not think there was anything underhand when I took the meat, or I should have lost my license—I was not called as a witness here last Sessions.
By MR. GEOGHEGAN. When Penn was at Guildhall I said, "I received threepence or fourpence; as far as I could see it was an ordinary transaction."
Re-examined. The threepence or fourpence was only for two flanks of beef; it was only going from one avenue to another—I do not hire a barrow for that—there are certain scales for work in the market.
—I constantly missed meat during the summer—Stepto was an assistant, and Penn salesman in the shop—Wilkins has been a customer for twenty years; whenever meat was sold to him it was weighed, and there would be a ticket on it—he came to the shop up to June or July last, and would be acquainted with my men—for the last five years he has always paid ready cash—our books do not always show the name of a purchaser—neither Penn or Stepto had any right to sell meat—Wilkins would buy of Mr. Lambert, or his son, or myself—there is no entry of any meat being consigned to him on July 21st, and if he did not pay at the time his name would be put against the entry.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I have known Wilkins twenty—four or twenty—five years; he was formerly in the Navy, I believe—he has always borne an excellent character, in my opinion—if meat was bought it would be delivered through the salesman to the buyer's porter, or through a private man; that prevails throughout the market.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Penn held a more responsible position than Stepto—he came to us with a good character.
HENRY JAMES HAWKER . I have been six or seven years in the prisoner Wilkins' service as a butcher—Belson brought meat to the shop on a barrow about July on several occasions—I remember a hind quarter of beef and a crop of beef, and some buttocks and thick flanks—I think they came on a Friday—Wilkins was there once or twice when he came, but I don't think he was there when the buttocks and flanks came.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I have not seen Belson since the case was started till this week—I saw him at Guildhall—I have not said that he came continually and asked me to go and drink with him—I made statements at the market and at Guildhall—when I was at Guildhall I was numbed by the drink I had on Friday, aud I did not know what I said—I was not drunk when the police took my statement—I said I could not recollect seeing Belson in Mr. Wilkins' shop—I did not say, "Never to my knowledge"—I signed my depositions—the Chief Constable told me to sign—I said, "I never made a statement to Mr. Mean"—I was so confused I did not know what I was signing—I know I was the worse for drink—I had several lots of brandy, and I am not in the habit of drinking spirits—I have not said at any time that Belson and two or three others took me to a public—house and treated me—I did not say that if I had seen Belson at Wilkins' shop it would be all right.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I was present when Belson made a statement to Mr. Mean.
Re-examined. I signed this statement (Produced)—it was read out—when I made it to Mr. Mean on October 18th I was quite sober—several people gave me drink at Guildhall Tavern—Mrs. Gurney was one—she took me out of Court and gave me some drink, and some gentleman, I do not know who he was, gave me some—I had never seen him before or since—I do not know a gentleman he was with—I have not had any brandy given me to—day; I have kept my head very clear all this week—it is the fact that I have seen Belson in Wilkins' shop bringing meat—nothing was said to me about what I was to say, by the people who gave me the drink.
awaiting his trial, has made a statement saying you were concerned with him in sending a hind quarter of beef. He says the porter, Kendrick,. fetched it. I arrrest you on that charge; other charges will follow"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—on October 18th I sent for Wilkins; I heard that he was in the market—I said, "Mr. Wilkins, no doubt you have heard that Penn and Gillons were sentenced yesterday to nine months' imprisonment; Penn has made a statement to me showing that you, on July 14th, received meat sent by him and Gillons and Stepto,. and another lot, taken up the same day by the same porter; what explanation have you to make Y Penn also states that you gave him £6 10s. for the meat, and that it weighed in all 52 or 54 stone—he said, "I never received any meat from a porter in the market from Lambert's shop, except when I engaged the porter to bring the meat to my own barrow. I have no recollection of receiving any on a Friday. The porter whose name you tell me is Belson I have never employed in my life, nor have I ever received any meat from him. I know him by sight, but I never employed him. He has never left meat. from Lambert's at my house. I am sure I did not not buy it, because I have not bought from Lambert a hind quarter of beef this year. If the porter Belson had brought me meat I should know it, because I know him very well by sight"—I left my office and asked Wilkins to wait, and afterwards gave him in custody—Mr. Birt said he did not sell Wilkins any meat on July 14th, and Wilkins said, "It is quite right: I did not buy meat from your shop on these days."
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. Meat was sent to Dodds and Stow, butchers—they were not prosecuted; there was no way of proceeding against them—I think the porter was outside my office, and I could see him through the window—I gave it to him as I give it to you—I had not got it written down—the exact words were not put in, but as Wilkins answered the questions I put it down in his presence—I had then got statements from other persons which I had put into writing—I arrested Wilkins after he made the statement.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I spoke to Stepto twice before I arrested him; I think August 31st was the first time, and I did not speak to him again, I think, till I arrested him—he said on each occasion, "I know nothing about the matter"—from August 31st, when I spoke to him, till the time of his arrest, he remained at Mr. Lambert's shop—he did not abscond.
He—examined. Dodds and Stows sell meat on commission; they sold meat for Stephens, who was tried and convicted.
Wilkins received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, November 17th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
the rents of 4, Brick Lane, Whitechapel—about six months ago I let a room on the third floor back to Onley—Richards came afterwards in the evening—I saw them enter into possession of the room, which was let entirely to them—they cohabited there as man and wife up to November 2nd, and paid their rent—I have seen them there from time to time.
STEPHEN LEECH (Detective Sergeant). On November 2nd, I went with Smart to 4, Brick Lane, at ten p.m.—Smart knocked at the door of the third floor back room and called "Dick"—he said, "Come in"—Smart opened the door and we went in—Richards was lying on the bed in his clothes, covered over, and Onley was standing at the side—as soon as we entered she said, "Oh! we are put away; it is the police"—we told Richards to get off the bed, we were police officers, and were going to search for counterfeit coin and implements for making the same—he would not get off the bed—with the assistance of other officers we pulled him off the bed and searched, but nothing was found on him—Onley said, "We are put away"—Richards said, "Who done it?"—on the mantelpiece was this tin, containing fourteen counterfeit sixpences, unfinished, all dated 1875—at this time the prisoners were struggling and fighting with us to get at it—I found on a table some files, some plaster of Paris in a handkerchief, and some in a bag, cloths; four metal spoons, one in the ashes under the fire, another in rubbish by the side of the fire, and two in a basket; this piece of metal, some silver—sand, a piece of glass and tissue paper—Smart found a plaster of Paris mould, which Onley knocked out of his hand—I submitted all those things to Mr. Webster—after the struggle with the prisoners, when they were quiet, Richards said, "What is the charge?"—I told him it was possessing counterfeit coin and implements for making them—he said, "We are fair done; you have got me straight, blind me, you have; who put me away? I am done"—the woman kept on shouting, "I told you so; I told you so"—I handed over Richards to the other policemen, and accompanied the woman to the station—when charged at the station with having implements for making counterfeit coin, and fourteen counterfeit coins, Richards said, "Quite true"—Onley said nothing—Richards gave the name of James Richards, and Onley gave Ann Onley—when the woman was asked her name and address Richards said, "I know nothing about the woman; she is only one that lived with me to help me in my business"—she said nothing—he did not say what his business was—when we stripped him in the cell passage, he said, "I wasn't a proper maker, I have only just started at the game;" and he again asked who put him away.
THOMAS SMART (165 H). On November 2nd I went with Leech to 4, Brick Lane, and said "Dick," outside the door; opened it and went in—someone shouted, "Come in"—I found this mould and these coins—the mould was whole, with a cover partly over the sixpence on the top—I looked at it, and Onley rushed at me and knocked it out of my hand, and said, "We are done this time"—it fell, and broke—I have tied it together in the shape it was before it was broken—all these things were found by me, or by Leech, in my presence.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—these are fourteen counterfeit sixpences, in an unfinished state; they are not particularly well made—they are all from the same mould—this is the obverse side of a mould for making sixpences; the reverse side has been
destroyed—it is in so broken a state that I cannot say whether these sixpences were made in it or not; they may have been—plaster of Paris, spoons, and files, are all implements used by coiners; they are part of their stock—in—trade.
MARY ANN M'AULIFFE (Re-examined by Onley). Whenever I asked for your rent you said, "If you wait till I come back from working for the Jews I will give you the rent; I have not got it now; my man is not working this morning"—I waited, and then I got ninepence or some thing—I cannot say if you went to work for the Jews, but I saw you with wet in front of your apron, as if you had been cleaning—you said you were going out cleaning and charing.
Richards in his defence stated that he knew nothing of the things, which must have been put in his place by someone for spite, to yet him and Onley into trouble.
[See original trial image.]
RICHARDS— Five Years' Penal Servitude. ONLEY*— Twelve Months Hard Labour.
MR. WATT Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
This was a voluntary prosecution. During the evidence of the first witness it appeared that the summons in the case of Hockham v. Walters (upon the hearing of which the alleged perjury was committed) could not be produced, nor was the Summons Book in Court. The COMMON SERJEANT ruled that it was necessary, in order to prove that the alleged perjury was committed in a judicial proceeding, to produce the original summons, to show that the matter had been properly before the Court. As the summons was not produced he directed the JURY to acquit the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WATT Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
The facts in this case were the same as those in the last case. MR. WATT offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS and KERSHAW Prosecuted, MR. PAUL TAYLOR
BENJAMIN SIMKINS . I live at the Lindens, Bethune Road, Stamford Hill, and am a hardware agent—I am the vicar's churchwarden of St. Mark's, West Hackney—I was appointed in 1892—at that time the prisoner was already the peoples' churchwarden—an account was kept in our joint names at the London and County Bank, Hackney branch—either of us had the right of signing cheques, but, as a matter of fact, since the account was opened I have never drawn any cheques on it; the prisoner has had charge of this special account—Campbell was the gardener of the church, attending to the church grounds, and organ blower—his salary was £3 a month, paid monthly, for attending to the grounds, and £2 10s. per quarter for blowing the organ; so that for the last month
of the quarter he would have £5 10s.—he was always paid by the church—wardens, for whom the prisoner acted, by open cheque to order, never in any other way—the prisoner drew all the cheques in connection with this account; they were not placed before me to be passed—I should not see them until the annual audit, which took place after Easter—the books were audited shortly after my appointment at Easter, 1892—the prisoner kept in his handwriting this book of church expenses, accounts which would have to be audited—the last payment he has entered in it is May 21st, 1892: clerk's wages, £3 6s. 8d., and sundry expenses, amounting altogether to £7 8s. 2d., and also 18s. cash, which he drew for the Easter visiting fees of St. Paul's—he made no entry in the book after that—it would be his duty to enter in this book all payments from Easter, 1892, to Easter, 1893—he did not bring the book up for the Easter audit, 1893—he was asked for it on many occasions—he made several appointments to bring it up; he said the accounts were all made out and ready for auditing, but he never brought them—we generally received a letter or postcard saying he could not come—on July 29th he resigned his position—I know his writing. (MR. PAUL TAYLOR objected to MR. HUMPHREYS putting in as evidence of guilty knowledge cheques other than those bearing an endorsement signed by the prisoner in the name of another person. He contended that a mere alteration of "order" to "bearer" was not a forgery, as the account was under the prisoner's control, and no cheque could be put in, which was not an alleged forgery, as evidence of general intent to defraud. After hearing MR. HUMPHREYS, the COMMON SERJEANT upheld MR. PAUL TAYLOR'S objection)—the body of this cheque ("A") for £4 12s., payable to Daniel Campbell's order, is in the prisoner's writing, and is signed by him as churchwarden of St. Mark's—to the best of my belief the signature is the prisoner's—£4 12s. was not due to Campbell on 26th July—this cheque ("H") of January 14th, 1893,. drawn to H. Baldwin or order, for £3 9s., and signed by the prisoner, and endorsed "H. Baldwin," I believe to be in the prisoner's writing—the whole of the face of cheque ("G "), also drawn to H. Baldwin or order, is in theprisoner's writing—the endorsement is not his—the faces of cheques "I" and "J," both payable to J. Cordell or order, are in the prisoner's writing—the endorsement on "I" is not his, but I believe the endorsement on "J" to be his—they are both for £12 17s. 6d.—"K," "L," "O," and "R" are chequesdrawn to R. Smith or order by the prisoner, and, to the best of my belief, all endorsed by him—the churchwardens owed no money to R. Smith; we have no such name on our books—I gave the prisoner into custody, and charged him with forgery on October 24th, when he was brought up on another charge at the North London Police court—he said, "Don't make it too hard for me, Simkins; I am very sorry.
Cross-examined. The main source of this fund on which the prisoner operated is from the church offertories—the churchwardens draw on it for the purpose of paying the expenses, such as general repairs to the church, and keeping the garden and burial ground in repair—in the case of our not fulfilling our duties as churchwardens, we are the persons responsible;. the money of the church is vested in us for the time being in trust for the parishioners—there is no trust deed appointing us—the fund was divided into two parts—I never operated on the account which the
prisoner operated on; I have a separate fund called the Mission Account which I operate on—it is distinct and separate from the account he was alone authorised to deal with—things have been altered since then—the prisoner had no authority to draw in favour of Campbell unless the amount was due to him—the only instructions churchwarden have is that they ate to liquidate accounts as they come in; they have no written in structions to that effect—the only control over the churchwardens is the Easter audit—the prisoner's books have not been audited since Easter 1892—it has always been the rule in connection with St. Mark's Church for the last twenty—seven years that all money shall be paid into the bank and all cheques drawn to order, and every account paid legitimately has been drawn to order—there was nothing to prevent the prisoner drawing a cheque to self and paying cash, because he had sole charge of the account prisoner has since paid the £3 9s. to Baldwin—nothing was owing to Campbell on 26th July, 1893, when this cheque was drawn—I have the cheque here with which he was paid for July—Campbell, and each of the persons except Smith, would be paid by the prisoner; not by me—I have gone through the accounts and speak of my own knowledge when I say the people have not been paid by these cheques—this £4 12s. has never been paid to Campbell; it was never owing to him, and has not been paid to him since—the last payment before that to Campbell was on 3rd, 1893, for £5 10s., which would include the organ blowing for the quarter and the gardening for the month and nothing more would be due to him before 3rd August when he would be entitled to £63 which he was paid on 4th August; as the bank—book shows—I have never drawn a bearer cheque to pay an account at St. Mark's, nor has the prisoner—I might have to make small payments out of my Mission account: I always draw "order—cheques for those—I have never altered "order" to bearer, and cashed the cheques myself—most of the cheques produced at the Police-court were crossed; but anyone can cross a cheque made out a cheque to Campbell, I should think it deecidedly wrong—to endorse it with Campbell's name if I intended to give Campbell the money—I think it wrong and unwise to endorse anyone's name—if I drew Cheque to Campbell's order and crossed it, and then gave him cash for it because he asked me, I should not myself endorse his name on the back—the prisoner had plenary control of the account.
Re-examined. The prisoner paid accounts during 1891 and up to the audit 1892 by cheques to order in every case; and he has done so sine, up to July 29th the day he resigned—the prisoner drew the cheque of 3rd July in favour of Campbell, who endorsed it and received the money over the bank counter—I know Campbell's writing—I drew the cheque of August 3rd to him—it was countersigned by the Vicar, under a new arrangement.
DANIEL CAMPBELL I am a gardener and organ—blower at St. Mark's West Hackney—I live at 70, Downs Park Road—my wages are £3 a Month for gardening and £2 10s. a quarter for organ blowing—my salary was paid by cheque—it is not my endorsement on this cheque ("A")—I never received the £4 12s.—I did not authorize anyone to endorse my name on the back.
Cross-examined. I have been employed direct from the church a little
over a year—my cheques were always for £3 or £5 10s.—I never had any extras—the prisoner has never paid me cash.
WILLIAM JAMES MILLS . I live at 61, Stoke Newington Road, and am a fishmonger and poulterer in the Liverpool Road—the prisoner is a cus tomer—I cashed this cheque ("A") for £4 12s. for the prisoner—I bank at the London and Midland Bank; I have my paying—in slip for the £4 12s.
Cross-examined. I did not know the prisoner as churchwarden of St. Mark's; I knew him—I knew it was his signature on the cheque—my attention was not directed to the word "church warden" under the signature—I knew he was the drawer of the cheque; I should not have cashed it unless I had known him—I did not know Campbell; I did not cash the cheque, because his name was on it.
THOMAS WILLIAM KEEN . I live at 199, Bishopsgate Street, and manage the business of Gillett and Cooper, wine merchants—I know the prisoner—I cashed these cheques ("G" and "H")for him—the prisoner asked me to endorse "G," and I did so—it is payable to H. Baldwin—I think the prisoner said he wanted to catch a train, and would I endorse it for him, it was all right—I thought being the drawer of the cheque he had the power to endorse it—I paid him cash for it—I cashed "H," I did not endorse it—I cashed "I" and "J," and paid the money to the prisoner—I endorsed "I"; I did not endorse "J"—I think I did not discover that "I" required endorsing till I got to the bank, and then I endorsed it—the prisoner was a customer—I cashed "K," "L," "O," and "R" for the prisoner—I did not endorse any of them.
Cross-examined. I endorsed them because I considered that as drawer he had authority to put the endorsement on—I have been in business for some years—I did not know the people whose names I endorsed—I had known the prisoner for some time—perhaps my reason for cashing them was that they were drawn on the church accounts, and I thought it was more secure—I don't think the prisoner endorsed any cheques in my pre sence; I am not quite clear about it—I thought as the cheque was his property he had the right to put his name on—I never supposed that the cheque had been handed to the person whose name was on it, and then handed back to the prisoner.
Re-examined. When I wrote the endorsement on the cheques I had paid cash to the prisoner for them.
HENRY BALDWIN . I am a plumber, of 84, High Street, Kingsland—I do repairs for St. Mark's church—I did not receive either of these cheques ("G" and "H") nor did I endorse either of them—"G" is dated November 26th, 1892, for £3 6s. and "H" is dated January 14th, 1893, for £3 9s.—I am uncertain whether at that time I was owed any money—I received this cheque for £3 9s. on April 4th, in payment of an account due to me for work done at the church—that was in full settlement of my account—I do not know if £3 9s. was due on January 14th, 1893—I should think the plumbing repairs to which this relates were done after January, 1893—I endorsed this cheque paid me on April 4th, 1893.
both for £12 17s. 6d., and are payable to J. Cordell—I did not receive nor endorse either of them.
GEORGE BROWN (Detective). Mr. Simkins gave the prisoner into my custody on October 24th, in the middle of the day—Mr. Simkins said, "I shall give you into custody for forging cheques and otherwise obtaining; money belonging to the church funds, of about £300"—the prisoner said, "Simkins, don't be too hard on me; I am very sorry"—I took him to Dalston Station, where he was charged; he made no reply.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecution and by the JURY.
The COMMON SERJEANT thought that perhaps the prisoner might be able to refund some of the money taken by him, which amounted in all to about £309.— Judgment respited
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted
(The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner).
THOMPSON (Detective Sergeant). At half—past twelve, noon: on 11th October I was with Whithread in the neighbourhood of the Tower Subway. I stopped the prisoner, and said, "What have you got on you t"—he said "Nothing"—I and Whitbread took him into custody, and inside the Tower of London—I searched, and found in his hip—pocket this bad half-crown, with a good half—crown and three shillings silver—I saw his hand in his pocket, and Whitbread took hold of his hand, and took out of it this paper, which contained these three bad half—crowns—I said, "How do you account for these?"—he said, "Someone must have put them in my pocket"—he can speak English quite plainly.
HENRY WHITBREAD (Detective H). I was with the last witness—when he was searching the prisoner I saw the prisoner drawing his left hand from his trousers pocket, and I took from it three coins wrapped up in this paper, which was folded so that the coins did not touch one another.
EDWARD REED (Inspector H). I entered the charge against the pri soner on the 11th, and read it to him—he made no answer—I was present at the Tower, and heard him say, "A man must have put them in my pocket"—he said it in English, and I spoke in English to him—he under stands me very well.
JOHN MYERS . I live at 111, Commercial Road—I know the prisoner—I first met him about nine p.m. on 9th October—I met him on the 10th and on the morning of the 11th I met him at the corner of Bell Lane, Colston Street, Whitechapel—I went with him, at his suggestion, to the maker of counterfeit coin, 49, Wickham Place, Tabard Street, Borough—he said he was going to buy this counterfeit coin, and that I should go with him, and that he and me should work it together—we did not know what quantity we were going to get—Old Steve was going to provide him with it—the prisoner speaks English a little; he spoke to me in English—we went there—we saw Old Bill, not Old Steve—the prisoner knew him; I did not—he was waiting in the street for us; he told the prisoner he had not many coins with him; he had only coins
enough to divide among those chaps; there were a lot of people, including the prisoner, waiting for the coins in Mint Street—the prisoner got four coins from Old Bill—we did not go to Old Steve, because me met Old Bill—sometimes we met one, sometimes the other—the prisoner paid fourpence each for the coins, I believe; 1s. 4d. altogether—I saw the four half-crowns pass, wrapped up in this piece of blue paper—I had been engaged by Inspector Reed to work in this case—we left the other chaps behind, and went—while going home through the Subway the prisoner said I should hold the coins—I said I was not well—dressed enough, he should keep the coins—he took one coin and put it in his hip pocket, and the other three in another pocket—after that he was arrested—I was not out with him on the day before the 11th, but I believe it was on the night of the 10th we went to a grocer's shop—I met him in Berners Street, and we went to Old Montague Street, and he took a half-crown into a grocer's shop, and told me to wait outside—I stopped at the bottom—he rejoined me and said he had given the counterfeit half—crown and bought two rolls, and had got the change—when conversing with him I spoke in English.
Cross-examined. I believe the man who sold you the rolls was brought to Leman Street, and could not identify you; I was there the night he was brought in—you made the appointment on the Monday night that I should work with you, and told me to call round at your place.
HUDSON WEATHERBURN . I live at Kirby Place, Poplar—I pleaded guilty on Monday, and was sentenced yesterday to three days' imprisonment—I have known the prisoner for about a month—on 9th October I met him at the corner of Middlesex Street—we went together to the Borough, and as we returned through the Subway the prisoner and another man produced some counterfeit coins, which I saw—they were wrapped up in paper—the prisoner had four of them, I think—he looked at them, and rubbed off some black stuff that was on them, and put them in his pocket—he said, "They look very well this morning"—he said he knew they were bad, and that he was going to pass them—I carried some of the coins—we went to Stratford—the other man passed a half—crown from the packet I had, which Price gave me in the tunnel, at a tobacconist's—Marks was outside 'the shop—several pieces were passed, and good money got in exchange—they went to a sweetstuff shop, and a man came out and said "It is bad," and they went to Middlesex Street, and that was all we did that day—I was arrested—the prisoner asked me at Arbour Square what I was going to say for my defence—I said I did not know what to say—he said I had better say a man named Myers gave them to me, and if I said that, they would arrest him and get him in trouble—he said he was going to say the same—the prisoner always spoke English to me, and I to him.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that Myers called for him and went over the water with him; that Myers left him and came back, and showed him four half—crowns, two of which lie gave him, and that lie could only suggest that Myers wanted to ruin him.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT. Saturday, November 18th, 1893.
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MESSRS. H. C. RICHARDS and TALFOURD SALTER Prosecuted, and MR. CORRIE GRANT Defended.
OCTAVIUS WILLIAMSON . I am a barrister, of 21, Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, and am Revising Barrister for the Tower Hamlets—as such I con stituted a Revision Court, at St. George's—in—the—East, on 13th September—this claim of Charles Ibbetson, marked "A" has been carelessly torn, being in a bundle; a very material part of it is gone since I saw it at the Police-court—I have no doubt this is a part of it; it has my initial—the defendant was called to give evidence before me with regard to that claim—I administered the oath to him and others, that they should speak the truth in all matters in question during the revision; and he after wards gave his evidence with regard to this claim—I was in doubt whether the man, whose claim it purported to be, had signed it himself, or had made his mark—the name was written and then a "X," and then the attestation was in the corner, written crossways, and I could not allow the claim until some explanation was given—the defendant, who was seated at a table, came forward and said that he could prove the claim—he then stated that his name was Hutchings, and that the signature of "Hutchings" was his, and that he saw Ibbetson place his "X" on the claim—an agent on the other side asked why he remembered this so par ticularly, and he answered that he remembered it well, because the man was rather fuddled at the time—upon that evidence I allowed the claim—subsequently I disallowed it in consequence of further evidence, and impounded the document—this other claim, marked "B," was also pro duced to me at the same time—I did not impound that.
HENRY WILLIAM MAYFIELD MORRIS . I live at Addison Road, Waltham-stow—our office is at 104, St. George's Street—I was present at the, Registration Court held by Mr. Williamson on 13th September at the Vestry Hall, Cable Street, St. George's—I saw the defendant there, and heard him sworn—I saw this claim ("A") produced, as the claim of a man named Ibbetson—I objected to the claim—the defendant was called by Mr. Hume, the Radical agent, and he stated that the "X" on the paper was the "X" of Charles Ibbetson, and that Ibbetson put it on in his presence—Ibbetson was afterwards called, and said the "X" was not his—the claim was impounded—this other claim ("B") was produced at the same Court—I objected to it; that the "X" which purported to be the "X" of Thomas Newman was not sufficiently identified, and the claim was disallowed for the time being, Hutchings not being present; he afterwards came and gave evidence—he swore that the "X" was made by Newman in his presence; upon that Mr. Williamson allowed the claim.
Cross-examined. The office in Cable Street is the Conservative registration office—I am an agent, and appeared on behalf of the Conservative Association—I recollect the defendant saying that he distinctly remem bered the cage of Ibbetson, because he (Ibbetson) had evidently been on the loose the night before, and his hand was very shaky—I don't remember
his saying that the man was fuddled—he said he knew Newman by calling for his claim; he did not say that he knew him personally.
HERBERT AUSTEN . I am employed in the office of this Court—the documents in the case of Ibbetson were received here from the Police-court—it was brought to my notice this morning that a part of the docu ment was missing—I have searched for it, but have not been able to find it; I have looked at every paper that has been in the office this week—I don't remember noticing the document; it would be difficult to say what I received—it would be received with a number of others, probably eight or nine.
ARTHUR WILLIAM PAMPHILLION . I live at 2, Chilton Road, Bromley-by-Bow—on 13th September I was present at the Vestry Hall, Cable Street, at the Court held by Mr. Williamson for the revision of votes—I heard the claim of Thomas Newman put forward—I saw the claim, and heard objection taken to it, that the "X" was not the "X" of Thomas Newman—the barrister disallowed the claim—later in the day Hutchings was called and sworn, and I heard him give evidence—he said that Thomas Newman had signed his "X" on this paper, and he had witnessed it, and upon his evidence the barrister allowed the claim—Hutchings said that Newman was not able to write his name, and he had authorised him to put the "X" for him and he witnessed it, that a "X" was placed on the paper and he witnessed it.
Cross-examined. I was acting on the instructions of Mr. Morris, as his agent—I did not hear Hutchings say anything about knowing Newman, I only inferred that he knew him as a canvasser, having called upon him—I have been canvassing for registration many years, in all districts in the East of London; on some occasions we have to call several times on an elector, there is a difficulty in catching them at home—I know Choppin's Court; it is a poor locality—many of the people are fairly well off, in well-built houses, and a very respectable class of inhabitants, in regular employment.
CHARLES IBBETSON . I live at 107, Jubilee Buildings, St. George's-in-the-East—I am a labourer—I never put my mark on a paper like this ("A")—I cannot write my name in full, I can in part—I can write "C. Ibbetson," that is all. (The witness wrote his name on a piece of paper.)
Cross-examined. At the Police-court I signed my deposition—I am not sure whether I signed it as I have now—before that I was at the Police-court when the summons was taken out, and made a statement then—I could not swear whether I signed that; I don't recollect—I do not remember a paper like this ("A") being left at my house; I never saw any paper; I don't know anything about it—I was lying asleep on the bed, and my wife told me that someone had been about a paper, and she told them to take it away, that I would not sign it, and they said they would leave it; perhaps some other day I would sign it—it was lateish at night when my wife told me that, about eight; I woke myself up about six, or a little after—I did not see a little boy and girl—I had not had anything to drink that day—I had not done any work since October—I know the Scots' Arms; I go past it every night—I very seldom go in; I had not been in that week—I did not see Hutchings come into my room from two to six while I was abed; I can't swear he did not—I did not see him; I don't know him; I did not see a little girl with him—he did
not show me a paper and ask me to sign it; I swear that—I did not offer him some beer out of a pot on the table.
Re-examined. I have been in Jubilee Buildings about sixteen or seventeen months, but not in the same room; I shifted from one room to another—during the time I have been in the Buildings I have never signed or made a mark on a paper like this—I am not a teetotaler—I was not in a fuddled condition when a canvasser called—Nellie Hutchings called in)—I never saw that girl till I was at the Police-court.
By the COURT. I am a dock labourer—I have never been asked to sign a paper like this—I never did vote in my life.
SUSANNA ELIZABETH IBBETSON . I am the wife of the last witness—we have lived at 107, Jubilee Buildings since last May twelve month—I remember in August last that gentleman (the defendant) coming about a vote; he brought a paper; I can read—he asked if my husband would sign it—my husband was lying on his bed; he had hurt his side—I turned round and asked him if he would sign the paper—he said, "No;" he would have nothing to do with it—Hutchings said my husband must sign it—I said, "No, he won't"—he said he would be compelled to sign it, because it was for a Member of Parliament; that they were voting for Members of Parliament—he told me to read it, and I read it—he said, "If you read the paper you will see that he must sign it"—he then went away and came again about two or three o'clock, and said he would leave the paper a few days longer to see if he would sign it—about a day or two after a girl came (pointing to Nellie Hutchings) and a little boy, and asked me; "Did your husband sign the paper?"—I said, "No"—she said, "Will you give it me?" and I gave it to her—the little boy did not speak at all—I gave it to her just as I got it; I never opened it from the time I got it—Hutchings called twice; the second time he came my husband was out—it was in the afternoon when the girl called for the paper—my husband had gone out to look for work at the docks, and he was there all day—I never went out of the door that day after the girl called; it was Friday, and I was doing my washing—I never saw Hutchings in my room with his daughter; he came by himself twice—I never saw him and his daughter together on the stairs or close to the room' at any time.
Cross-examined. I am quite sure I did not go outside my door on that Friday—my husband was asleep when Mr. Hutchings brought the paper; he did not bring it in at the door, he was outside the door—he could not see my husband—there are two doors—I woke my husband, and said, "Charlie, will you sign this paper?"—he said, "No, I won't"—I shut the door, and came back to give him the paper, but he would, not take it—the paper was not in my hand when I woke my husband—I did not go in to him; I called to him, and said, "Charlie, will you sign the paper?" and he said, "No"—I could see my husband when I opened the door, and he could see me—he could not see the prisoner; he never saw him—I told my husband it was a voting paper—he said, "What paper?" and I told him, and he said he would not sign it.
Cross-examined. I do not know the prisoner—I never saw him till last
Friday—I swear I never signed this paper—the prisoner never called at my place; I have never walked with him down Chopping Court—the Three Swedish Crowns Public—house is two doors but one from me—I have never bean in there with Hutchings; I swear that; I have never seen him to my recollection—I have seen that man (Barrett); I have seen him in. Charles Street, and had many a bottle of lemonade at his shop on several Sunday mornings—I have not seen him and Hutchings together—I was never in the Three Swedish Crowns along with Hutchings and Barrett; I never drank with them there, or anywhere else—I know Mrs. Barginold and Mrs. Wood, who lodges with her; I did live in the same house—I never passed her place with Hutchings—she lives next door but one to me—Hutchings has never stood me a drink, nor I him; I swear that.
Re-examined. Mrs. Barginold has spoken to me about this case. MARGARET NEWMAN. I live in Choppin's Court—I never saw my husband put a mark to this paper ("B")—I never saw such a paper, or any paper like it; I never had such a paper left with me.
JANE JAMES . I have lived with Mr. and Mrs. Newman, in Choppin's Court, for about a year and six months—I have no occupation—I am always at home; it is very seldom I am out, except on a little errand—to my knowledge I have seen no paper like this since I have lived with Newman's—I can't read, but I cannot recollect ever seeing such a thing as this paper.
Cross-examined. I have never seen Newman take a pen in his hand; I don't think he can write—I don't think there is a pen in the house.
A. W. PAMPHILLION (Recalled). I do not think the defendant said anything before the barrister as to where Newman was when he put the "X"—it was at Choppin's Court, to the best of my recollection, that he said Newman authorised the "X" to be put there.
HENRY NEWLYN . I am clerk at the Vestry Hall, Cable Street—I pro duce the Parliamentary election papers used at the Revising Court; the paper with the name of Thomas Newman—I have no doubt this is the piece of paper I produced to the Magistrate when the depositions were taken in that case.
CHARLES DEAN . I am assistant clerk at the Thames Police-court—on Saturday last I made up the depositions in this case to be sent to this Court—I included amongst them the two claims marked "A" and "B"—these are the two claims; they were then both complete—I handed the depositions, with the claims attached, to Mr. Gough to be brought to this Court.
Cross-examined. As far as I can remember there were no other depo sitions for this Court; this was last Saturday my attention was specially called to these claims, as I had to put an adhesive paper at the back of this one; it is on now—I did nothing to the other, but I noticed that the left—hand corner had a piece off; it was incomplete—but I had it folded up in four, and endorsed and handed them to the messenger to bring here—the claims were perfect when given to the messenger—as a rule they would lie put in an envelope.
ERNEST GOUGH . I am a messenger at the Thames Police-court—on Saturday last I brought the depositions in this case to the office of the Clerk of Arraigns in an envelope—I produce the receipt book—I gave them to Mr. Austen, and this is his signature; I saw him sign it—I
delivered them to him in the same condition as I took them from Mr. Dean.
Cross-examined. The envelope was sealed up.
Witnesses for the Defence.
NELLIE MUTCUINGS . I am fifteen years old—I helped my father in the work of canvassing for claims; half a day on Friday, and on Saturday from about half—past eleven to about two—I remember being at Jubilee Buildings on Friday—in consequence of what father told me I went into a room on the second floor, where Ibbetson lived—I saw Mrs. Ibbetson—my little brother, who was with me, asked for the claim—she went over to Mr. Ibbetson, and said he felt too lazy, and would not sign it, he did not understand what it meant—she offered it to us; my brother took it, and we went downstairs and waited till father came down to the other part of the building, and gave it to him, and in not much over ten minutes he and I went back to Ibbetson's room—we both went in, and there was Mr. Ibbetson lying down in the corner—father knocked at the door, and Mr. Ibbetson came over; the door was open—father said "Good afternoon" to him—he said, "I have come to ask you to sign the claim"—he had it in his hand at the time—Ibbetson said he did not understand what it meant—father explained it to him, and told him it was to get his name on the register to vote—Ibbetson said, "Oh, yes, very well; I will sign it"—father offered him the claim—he took it—then he said, "Oh, my hand is too shaky; I can't write"—he gave the paper back to father, and father said, "I can put the name," and he put the name to it—I saw him write it, standing up, at the door—he then offered it back to Ibbetson, and he borrowed father's pencil and put the "X" on the paper, and he offered father a drink, and said, "Will you have a drink of this?"—it was ale; he had it by his side; it was in a can—I think father shook his head first, and then he did drink when he asked him again—father then took the paper, and we went down—we met Mrs. Ibbetson at the top of the stairs—she was coming up—we stopped to jet her pass, and she went into their room, and we went downstairs—I went on helping father in his work the rest of the day—I did not see anyone else make a mark on a paper that clay—I next heard about this a few weeks ago, when there was a bother about it; I heard it from father—in consequence of that I attended at the Police-court, and gave evidence.
Cross-examined. Friday and Saturday were the only two days that I assisted father—on the Friday morning we had been giving out some papers at all the houses, not claims, about committee meetings—I could not say how many claims I collected on that Friday afternoon; I suppose a dozen; not all in Jubilee Buildings—we got this one, and I. think one or two round the front; we met father, after each one—I think I went to another place before Ibbetson's—Ibbetson's was on the second floor—I knocked at the door, and Mrs. Ibbetson opened it, and I got the paper unsigned; then my brother and I took it down to father—my brother told him what Mrs. Ibbetson had said—he had been round with father before; this was the first time I had been—I could see into the room—there were two doors, the passage door and an inner door—I could see Mr. Ibbetson lying down, as she went over to him—I saw no signs of washing; I know this was on Friday, not Saturday—I called for some claims on Saturday in Jubilee Buildings, round in front; only one,
I think; we only got two in Jubilee Buildings altogether—the second time we went to Ibbetson's, father knocked at the door—Mr. Ibbetson came to the door—both doors were shut; they are close together—Ibbetson got up and came across—I had not heard father explain to any body before this what a voting claim was: this was the first time—he said to Ibbetson, "Don't you understand this claim?"—he said, "No, I don't" he said, "It is to get your name on the register, so that you can vote"—then he said, "Oh yes, very well, I will sign it"—the can of beer was on the box or stool that he was sitting on—I saw father write a name on the paper—I cannot tell what name it was; he wrote it against the inside door—Ibbetson had a chair, or box, by his side, and he put the paper on that and made his "X" there—I did not see any other voter make his "X"—I believe it was after he made his "X" that he asked father to have a drink, and before he offered the paper back; it was father who afterwards told me there was a bother about this—Mr. Benn also spoke about it, after the summons came out.
Re-examined. Father told me that the bother was about Ibbetson's. claim at 107, Jubilee Buildings, and I said I remembered going through, the gates up to the room, up two or three of the flights.
HENRY JAMES HUTCHINGS . I am the son of the defendant—I am eleven years old—I go to school, and am in the sixth standard—I re member going to assist father in his registration work—I went with my sister to 107, Jubilee Buildings; I think on the second floor—I saw Mrs. Ibbetson and asked for the claim—she went to Mr. Ibbetson and brought me the paper—she said he was too lazy to sign it—I took the paper down to father—he went outside the buildings to another place—I waited in the grounds till he came back, and he then went up the stairs to 107 with my sister—I waited in the grounds: they were gone three or four minutes—I was looking at the boys playing—my father first spoke to me about this.
Cross-examined. It was school holiday time when I and my sister came downstairs with the paper—I had it in my hand—when I had got to the bottom of the stairs my father came from another part of the building—he met us near the grounds outside—J gave my father the paper at once—I did not notice anyone come down the stairs; I was not looking that way—when father came back with the paper my sister and I went up stairs—I think father said, "You wait here while I go upstairs"—I think my sister wanted to go up to the second floor again—they both went up together—before I went before the Magistrate my father asked me if I remembered the place—no one else had spoken to me about it—he asked if I remembered 107, Jubilee Buildings, and if I remembered staying below while he and my sister went up, and my bringing the paper down to him—after thinking a little while I remembered all about it.
Re-examined. He asked if I remembered going upstairs and asking, for the claim—after a little thinking I said, "Yes"—he asked me to say all that I knew—I told him all that I have said to—day.
ELIZABETH BAROINOLD . I live with my husband, James Barginold, at 3, Choppin's Court—that is next door but one to Mr. Newman's—I have known Newman about six months—I did not know Hutchings before he went collecting the votes—when he called at my house in the summer time my husband was not at home—he left me the paper—I gave it him
when he called again—I was standing at the door—he went into New man's house—he came out in four or five minutes—they are small houses—Mr. Newman came out with him—they went towards the right past my house towards the Three Swedish Crowns; in ten minutes they came back again past my door—Newman went indoors and Hutchings towards Old Gravel Lane—I saw Hutchings three or four times at my house—about a fortnight ago he said, "Do you remember me f"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Do you remember my giving you a paper for your husband to sign, and my going with Mr. Newman t"—I said, "I remember you quite well, and my chaffing Mr. Newman.
Cross-examined. Before I lived in Choppin's Court, I lived in Raven Street, close by—my husband filled up the paper about four days after Hutchings called—he wrote his name—I believe Newman can't write—it was a Saturday afternoon when Newman went to the Three Swedish Crowns—in the summer time I do a little sewing at the door because it is darker inside, the windows being small—I have never seen Mr. Benn—I said before the Magistrate that Hutchings asked me to come and say I saw him and Newman going down the street together—I never spoke to Newman afterwards.
Re-examined. I said I remembered chaffing about the drink—when that was mentioned it came back to my mind—Mrs. Wood was With me at the door all the time.
ANNIE WOOD . My husband, Charles Wood, is a lighterman—we have lodged with Mrs. Barginold since May—we went there together when they took the house—Hutchings came there for the votes—Mrs. Barginold was not at home, and he left the paper—Mrs. Barginold and I were to gether—I heard the conversation about the paper—Hutchings then went into Mr. Newman's house, the next door but one—after a minute or two he came out with Mr. Newman—they stayed for a minute or two by our door conversing; within a yard of it—Mrs. Barginold and I were stand ing at the door together talking—Hutchings asked if the paper was ready—Mrs. Barginold said it was not ready yet, and as they were passing away Mrs. Barginold said, "Is it any use my coming with you?" in a jocular way—being in the habit of taking a glass of refreshment with Newman, she thought he would, perhaps, stand her a treat—they went towards the Three Swedish Crowns, at the bottom of the court, where there is an entrance—they came back from the Three Swedish Crowns, past our door—Newman went into his house, and Hutchings passed on into Old Gravel Lane—I was at the Police-court by accident" with Mrs. Barginold, and was called to give evidence.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Barginold came upstairs and asked me if I re membered standing at the door and the gentleman coming for the voting paper, and the gentleman and Newman standing at the door, and I said "Yes"—we were talking together—it was between five and six on Satur day afternoon—I said the same in effect at the Police-court.
Re-examined. I am quite certain I saw Hutchings and Newman go down the court and come back—I happened to be outside the Police-court and was called.
Crowns and in Old Gravel Lane about two or three months ago—I called in there after the Guardians' meeting, as I invariably do—I said, "Good evening, Hutchings" they were in conversation together—I knew Hutchings was engaged in political registration work at the time.
Cross-examined. Saturday and Sunday are our busiest days in the winter, but not in the summer; there is too much fruit about then—the Guardians meet any day; we never know till we get the notice—the regular board meeting is every Friday—I did not know Newman when I saw him talking to Hutchings—I only became acquainted with him through being connected with this case—I had not seen him till I saw him drinking with Hutchings—I went to the Police-court last Friday—nobody asked me to go—I went with Benn and several other members of our association; nobody connected with the case asked me to go—I had not told anybody of my meeting Hutchings at the Three Swedish Crowns till last Friday, when the case came on—after the case was over I told Mr. McDonnell, the solicitor, that I could prove distinctly different to what was stated, because I could remember seeing them together—I should say the meeting was about six o'clock, or 6.30—I will not pledge my oath to the gas being alight, but it must have been evening time—I heard some political cases were coming on at the Court—the meeting must have been after six, as our meetings invariably terminate about six o'clock.
Re-examined. I had no idea what the case was about when I went to the Court.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Saturday, November 18th, 1893.
Before Mr. Recorder.
49. GEORGE SHAW and JAMES CLARINGBOLD, Feloniously demanding £2 10s. from William Brown, under a forged instrument. MR. KYD. Prosecuted; MR. HOSKINS appeared for Shaw, and MR. COLLINS for Claringbold.
WILLIAM BROWN . I keep the Crown, Curtain Road—I know the prisoners as customers—on October 18th they came in, and Shaw produced a cheque on the City Bank, Limited—I looked at it; it was, "Pay Alfred Webb £2 10s. G. J. Argent"—I asked who Argent was; they said, "Argent, of the City Road"—I said, "Who is Webb?"—Shaw said he was a man who Claringbold worked for, and Claringbold said, "Yes"—I knew the firm of Argent very well, and took it for granted it was all right, and put the money on the counter—I believe Shaw took it up—I kept the cheque till the 20th, and paid it to my account, and on the same day Shaw came in, but we had no conversation about the cheque—on the Friday evening he came again, and I said, from information I had received, I had got a bad cheque, and I had reason to believe that one I had changed that afternoon was bad—he said he was very sorry, he had got both cheques from Claringbold—I said, "You had better fetch Claringbold"—I went to the Police—station—I received the cheque back next day at the counter, marked, "No account"—I charged the prisoners on the 23rd.
Cross-examined. I have kept the Crown fifteen months, but I have lived in the district six years, and during that time I have known Shaw—he is a furniture dealer—that district is full of furniture dealers—he is a perfectly respectable married man, with a family—if I had been asked his character I should have given him as good a character as a man could expect—I was continually in the habit of obliging him with money for cheques, and never knew anything go wrong—I have known Claringbold some time—he may have said that Webb was an upholsterer who he worked for—my interview with Shaw was before I spoke to the police—I went to them before Shaw fetched him—they were then asked to go to the station and they went—I believe Shaw cannot read or write; when he has to write he puts his mark.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. I did not question Claringbold when Shaw brought him as to where he got the cheque from—Shaw told me that Claringbold had asked him to get some change for him.
WILLIAM NICHOLS . I am London manager of Hudson's soap, at 83, Worship Street—this cheque was the last in my cheque—book, which was issued to me in July—on September 28th, my premises were broken into and some things taken away, and among them my cheque-book.
Cross-examined by MR. HOSKINS. I have seen Shaw about the City Road; I do not know what his business is.
PHILIP WILLIS (Police Sergeant G). On October 21st, at seven p.m., I took Claringbold, and told him he would be charged with being con cerned with another man in uttering forged cheques—he said, "All right; I got the cheque from another man. I can take you to the house where he lives"—I took Shaw; he said, "I cashed the cheque for Claringbold; I did not know there was anything wrong. I have cashed numbers of cheques with Mr. Brown."
Cross-examined by MR. HOSKINS. When I arrested Claringbold on the 23rd I had spoken to Shaw on the 20th about the cheque being returned—I did not on that day tax Shaw with dishonesty—I had not had an interview with Mr. Brown previously—Shaw bears an irreproachable character.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. I did not know Claringbold previous to this—I saw him first on the 20th at the station—he said he got the cheque from Alfred Webb, his employer—he gave me an address on the 23rd—I went there and found that there had been such a man, but he had Gone—he said it was not Webb; it was John Day—I found he had left there on the 20th.
Shaw's statement before the Magistrate: "I have a good character. I was drawn into this."
SHAW— NOT GUILTY .
CLARINGBOLD— GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Three Months' Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
Two Years' Hard Labour.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
WALTER PAGE . I am assistant surgeon to the G Division—early on September 26th I was called to the station—I saw the prisoner there, and a female child dressed in a small woollen shawl and a thin nightgown, not sufficient to keep it warm; it was whining, and was dirty and very emaciated, I suppose from starvation, as there were no signs of disease, and no diarrhoea—it only weighed 5 lbs. 10 oz. with its clothes on—it was stated to be five months eighteen days old, but subsequently I found it was six months eighteen days, and the usual weight of a child of that age is 16 lbs. or 17 lbs.—if it was of ordinary size when born, it would weigh 15 lbs. at seven months—it would not remain at that light weight with proper care—it was not suffering from any disease.
Cross-examined. If a female child weighed 4 lbs. at birth, I should expect it to weigh at least 12 lbs. at seven months; I should give about 1 lb. a month for the increase, unless it had bad health—it got better, and then worse, and then it died—there was no hair on its face.
DANIEL MCKAY FORBES . I am medical attendant at Shoreditch Infir mary—this child was brought there on 26th September, and was under my care till it died—it was very thin and emaciated; it ate its food very ravenously—it weighed 5 lbs. 8 oz. without its clothes on the 26th, and it gained about 1 oz. a day, and on October 2nd it weighed 5 lbs. 14 oz.—on the evening of the 5th it had diarrhoea, and on the 6th it weighed 5 lbs. 4 oz.; it lost 10 oz. by the diarrhoea during the night of the 6th—the diarrhoea was checked, but it was very weak, and it died on the even ing of the 7th—the normal weight of a child seven months old is about 16 lbs.—I made a post—mortem examination, and found no organic disease, no ulceration of the bowels, and no mesenteric disease—if it had been properly nourished I believe it would have recovered, as the diarrhoea was checked in a few hours, but it had not strength—a child will increase from 61/2 to 7 lbs. at birth to 16 or 17 lbs., but if it is below the normal weight it would increase at a smaller ratio if it were healthy.
By the COURT If it was born puny it would increase at the same rate, unless there was disease, but if it had frequent attacks of diarrhoea I should not expect it to increase.
Cross-examined. If it had had chronic diarrhoea the blood—vessels round the bowel would show enlargement—I could not tell if it had only had diarrhoea occasionally, but I could tell if it had it continuously—I should not expect it to increase in weight in a similar proportion if it had attacks of diarrhoea; if it had repeated attacks I should expect it to die.
Re-examined. I should expect to find traces of diarrhoea on a post-mortem
examination—I should expect a puny child to weigh more than 5 lbs. 8 oz. after seven months; 31/2 lbs. would be about half the weight.
DANIEL SOUTHGATE (13 G R). I was with Jobson, and saw the prisoner with a baby in her arms—I asked her why she did not go indoors—she said, "I am not going indoors till I have seen my husband"—I had not gone many yards before the husband said, "Look at that child, she is starving it; she has not given it any milk for two days"—its feet and legs were exposed—I undid the shawl and found it was very emaciated—I took it from her and took it to the station.
Cross-examined. She said, "I am not going to be knocked about by my husband," and then he came out, and said, "She has been starving; the child"—she had no jacket or hat on—I was round there just before, and he was not there.
GEORGE HALL (Police Inspector). On September 26th I was on duty at Shoreditch Station, and Southgate and Jobson brought the child in—it had on a nightshirt and shawl—the husband was present and Mrs. Wood, who had a bottle of milk, which the child partook of ravenously—the prisoner said nothing, but she seemed dazed—I should not say that she was drunk.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HENRY ANDREW SPEED , M.R.C.S. I am a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians, Edinburgh—I live at 26, East Road—I attended the prisoner when she was confined with this child on March 7th—it was very small and weakly, and its face was covered with down, more like hair—it certainly did not weigh more than 4 lbs—I attended it again, a week or a fortnight afterwards, suffering from gastric disease—it was more like an old man than a baby; it was wizened—I attended the prisoner in 1892 for debility; I do not recollect a miscarriage—I did not think the child would live, and I told them so—if the food was not properly assimilated, that would retard its growth—a child suffering from occa sional attacks of diarrhoea would be weak—I was not in Court when Dr. Forbes was examined—if the child suffered from diarrhoea, that would be sufficient to account for what I saw—any child would be weak if it had occasional attacks of diarrhoea—I know what Dr. Forbes does not know.
Cross-examined. I did not see the post—mortem—if it weighed 4 lbs. at birth, I should expect it to weigh about 8 lbs. at six months, with proper care, if there was nothing the matter with it—I only attended the woman in her confinement—I heard that the child weighed 5 lbs. 8 oz. on September 26th—that did not surprise me, because if a child is so weak at first you cannot expect it to get on very fast; assuming that it weighed 3 lbs. at birth, then I should say 6 lbs., instead of 8 lbs.—if it had con tinual diarrhoea, I should expect to find the parts flabby—I lost sight of it when it was a fortnight old.
ELIZABETH WOOD . I am the wife of George Wood, of 27, Nile Street—the prisoner lives in the same house—I saw the child every day—it was fed with cows' milk, and another doctor ordered Nestle's milk—I was present at its birth; it was a very small baby—I nursed the prisoner; she had no milk after the third day—the child was properly fed, but it was a very miserable child, and was always crying—I took it to a doctor, and also to St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I bathed it on Sunday, and
before that on Friday it had on in the daytime a flannel petticoat, a frock, and a shawl—I made all the clothes it had on, and undressed it at night they keep a fish shop, which made her hands dirty and greasy—she seemed fond of the child—she had two feeding bottles.
Cross-examined. It was fed properly when I was at home—I used to see it morning and night, but I was not all day with Mrs. Manning—I go out a good deal, and she goes out to fetch her dinner—I sometimes made the milk for the baby I used to be a good deal with the prisoner, because she has never been well since her confinement—she did not appear drunk; she seemed in a dazed condition—I said to the Magistrate, "I have seen the prisoner the worse for drink, but not often"—I did not say, "It was in consequence of that that I offered to wash the child," but in the morning I used to go down and say, "I will wash the baby for you"—she was not well—I cannot say whether that was from drink, but she was always ailing—the father fed it, and I have said, "I think it had sufficient food when the father was at home"—she used to go to her mother's for hours together; but she used to take the baby with her; if not, she left it with me, and I took it to my room—I was called out of my bed, and went to the Police-station—I very likely said there that the child would not have got a bath once a week if it had not been for me—I told Inspector Hall that she sometimes took more beer than was good for her, because she never had any appetite; she could not eat when she was in bed when she was con fined—the child suffered from diarrhoea; not more than most children, but it ebbed and flowed.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, November 18th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
JOHN MYERS . I live at 111, Commercial Road—I am a tailor—early in October, a suggestion was made to me that I should take part in passing bad money—in consequence I communicated with the police, and subsequently acted under their instructions, keeping up a communication with the person who first spoke to me and with other men—on October 12th, I went to where Clements lived, and while waiting there, about eight p.m., the three prisoners drove up in a trap—Clements asked me what I wanted there—I told him a falsehood, that I went round to Old Steve, the maker, that he had no coins to sell me, and that I should work always with them—Old Steve, I believe, is the man who makes the coins Clements said, "If you like you can work along with me on the Friday"—the other prisoners could hear the conversation—he said he was going to Whitechapel; that was my way home, and I got into the trap to go with them—before we started, Clements told me that Cohen went into a Post—office the same day and called for a 30s. postal order, and put down coins which the lady picked up; and she said two were bad, and then Cohen took up the postal order and ran out of the shop, and turned and used dirty language—Cohen did not hear him say that—we drove to a coffee—
shop in Whitechapel, and I, Clements, and Cohen went in and they divided the money they had made between the three—I think it was about 8s.—they did not say where they had obtained it—I and Clements went out, leaving the other two prisoners to take the trap home—Clements left me in Whitechapel Road, and told me I was to call for him at nine o'clock on Friday morning—I told that to Thompson—on Friday morning I called at Clements's place, about 8.15 or 8.30—he had breakfast, and went with, me to the lodging—house, and he got the horse and trap and drove down to the coffee—house where Friedman lived about 9.30—I went inside and called Friedman—Clements said that he and I should drive in the trap, and Friedman should go and get the rug and the swag—Friedman went away, and when he came back he brought the rug, and some coins in a hand kerchief, which he handed to Clements; he looked inside—they were handed to me; I told him he should keep them, and Clements took them—we got into the trap and drove to Norwood—Clements handed Fried man some coins—he asked me if I should like to go inside with him—I told him I did not know how to pass counterfeit coin for postal orders—he said, "I will tell you. First, Friedman goes in and asks for postal orders; in about two minutes you should go in and call for a postage stamp, and when the woman comes to serve you, if she finds the coins are bad, then you should stop her while he goes away with the postal order"—we drove about Norwood, buying postal orders and passing bad money—Friedman and Clements went in the shops, I did not; they went to five or six post—offices—Friedman generally went in for the postal orders, and was followed by Clements for the postage stamps—I don't know how many postal orders they got, I reckon five or six of different values—I was with them the whole time—I cashed four of the orders; two were for 10s. and 7s. 6d., I believe—he told me to go inside, and when I was. asked to write my name I should not write my own name, but Alexander on one and Smith on the other—these are the two orders I cashed at Peckham Rye—the other two I cashed I signed Smith; one was at Forest Hill, I believe—I received them from Clements—Friedman cashed a 20s. order a little way past the Crystal Palace—I was outside in the trap with Clements when it was done—we came back by way of Bermondsey, and coming through there Clements said, "We will go down to Old Steve's place and see if he has got any coins ready for us"—we met Old Bill, one of the makers—Clements got out of the trap and spoke to him, and then Old Bill got in the trap—Clements asked him if he had got any coins to sell him; he said he had a dozen half—crowns—Clements took them and handed him 4s. for them, I think it was—we came back and shared the proceeds, and I had 4s. as my share, and I left them.
Cross-examined by Clements. You had the coins, and you handed them to me, and I carried them a little way, and I gave them back to you.
Cross-examined by Friedman. I cud not know either of you before—Clements told me where you lived—I don't know if anyone besides Clements saw you with me on the Friday; I am sure you were with me then—Cohen was not in my company on Friday.
Cross-examined by Cohen. I saw you get out of the trap, and take a pair of leggings out.
coin, and was sentenced to three days' imprisonment—in cones quence of overtures made to me in October I took part in dealing with coin—I saw the three prisoners when I was in a cell at Arbour Square—I had spoken to them all before—Clements, or Sailor, started saying in the cell that Old Steve, the maker, ought to do something for him, as he was the first who brought all the boys out; saying he ought to find a counsel for him, as he had always been a good customer to him—the other two prisoners said he ought to do the same for them, as they had always had a lot off of him—Friedman said they had been round all parts, Sid-cup, Farningham, and that way, working the post—offices, going in for 10s. postal orders, and putting down bad money, and when they got the postal orders running out, and they had a trap outside, and Sailor would drive them off—Cohen spoke of one place near Farningham where he went in for the postal order, and the girl turned and said, "This money is bad," and he snatched the postal order from her hand, and used filthy language and ran away—Friedman said they sometimes shared £2 apiece, which they had made in six hours—Clements said he had made over £80 within the last two or three months—he said they had another man at Stepney who made the coins, and he used to supply them—he used to get them from two people.
Cross-examined by Clements. You said you went in for £1 and 10s. postal orders—you have been out of the hospital a month—you asked me what I was going to say in my defence, and I said I should not have to speak, as I should have a solicitor to speak for me—that was before the Magistrate—I pleaded guilty here.
Cross-examined by Friedman. The first time I saw you was about a week before your arrest, over where they buy the money—it is not true that we were together on 9th May when you got arrested for attempting to pick pockets in an omnibus—I did not see you then; I have never been out with you—you knew what I was at Arbour Square for—you said to me at Holloway, "Do you know who has put you away?"—I said, "No"—you said, "Myers; the best you can do is to tell your solicitor that, and you can have your revenge on Myers for putting you away. Tell your solicitor and the Magistrate that, and they will arrest Myers"—you said I was to give information that Myers had been passing bad money—I did not tell you that I had been at a gambling club, and saw Myers, who had given me the bad coin which was found on me—you said to me, "How was it I am locked up?"—I said I was in a house playing cards, and Myers came in and told me a friend was outside, and when I got outside I was arrested, and on me was found bad money—I never said Myers had given me the bad money; he did not give it to me.
Cross-examined by Cohen. You spoke to me in the cell.
Re-examined. Nothing was said in the cell about my knowing them.
JANE COHEN . I am the wife of Joseph Cohen—we live at 62, High Street, Stratford—between seven and 7.30 p.m. on 12th October I was standing with my husband at the door of our house—I saw Friedman and Cohen outside our shop, and they went into the post—office attached to Mr. Canham's baker's shop, next door, No. 64—I saw Cohen come out first, running; he wore a pair of brown leggings—Friedman walked out a few minutes afterwards—I saw no trap—they both went towards Bow—I
have known Friedman for some years, but I had not seen him for about six months—I next saw them at Arbour Square Police—station, and picked them out from about thirteen others—these leggings are like the pair worn by Cohen.
Cross-examined by Friedman. I saw you through the window of the shop talking to the lady of the shop—it is not very often see Jew down Stratford, and that was what called my attention—I have not had a feud with your mother.
Cross-examined by Cohen. I did not pick you out at the station; I was not quite sure of you then, and I am not now—I only noticed you wore a pair of leggings.
JOSEPH COHEN . I am the last witness's husband—I was standing with her at our door on October 12th—I saw Friedman and another (I cannot say for certain whether it was Cohen) go into Mr. Canham's shop, next door—I saw the second man, not Friedman, come out first—I did not notice what he was wearing.
Cross-examined by Friedman. I did not see any leggings—I picked you out of a lot of persons, I don't know how many.
WILLIAM ENGLISH . I am horsekeeper at Chapman's Stables, Little Collingwood Street, Whitechapel—I never saw Cohen before—I have known Friedman these two years—I never saw Clements before he came to the stables for five consecutive days, and I let him have the trap—they first came for the trap on a Monday morning, about the middle of October, I think—Friedman came by himself first—I agreed to let him have the trap, knowing him, for 6s. a day—Friedman paid me that for my master, each day—Clements never paid me—he came on Thursday and Friday; I cannot say the dates of those days.
Cross-examined by Clements. You came on Thursday, October 12th, for the trap—on Friday you came between 12.30 and 12.45, and had the trap off me.
Cross-examined by Friedman. When you started having the trap I said "What are you doing now?" and you said, "I am working the prize-packets and mock jewellery"—you showed me your box—you came for the trap on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday—you and Clements had one trap—he came with you on Thursday and Friday—on Friday you came between 12.30 and one—on Thursday you came at 11.25—on the Thursday the trap was brought home at 7.45; it was eight when I got the pony in the stable—you were with Clements when the trap was brought home on the Thursday.
Re-examined. On Friday the trap was returned about 7.35 p.m. by Clements and Friedman.
HELEN COLE . I am assistant postmistress at 64, High Street, Strat ford, Mr. Canham's baker's shop and post—office—on Thursday, 12th October, about 7.30 p.m., two young men, one of whom I believe to be Friedman, came in, and the other one asked for a 15s. postal order and put down five half—crowns and three halfpence—he snatched the order from my hand—I asked him to give it back to me—he said, "What is the matter?" and ran from the shop with the order—the other man went out immediately after the first, but came back and said, "Has he stolen anything?"—I said, "No, but he has not given me enough money"—I examined the coins, and found they were bad—I handed them to Mrs.
Canham, and she handed them to Mr. Canham in my presence—their little boy was in the shop when the men came in—this is the order.
Cross-examined by Friedman. Inspector Reed did not point you out to me till after I had said I had a suspicion of you—directly the other man ran out I discovered the coins were bad.
CHARLES CANHAM . I was with Miss Cole in my father's shop on the evening of 12th October—I saw Friedman and another youth in the shop that evening—I afterwards picked Friedman out at the Police—station from a number of other men.
Cross-examined by Friedman. It was about 7.30 when you came in—the other youth put five half—crowns and three halfpence on the counter you were reading the bills in the shop at the time—when the other man run out I ran after him—you went towards Bow; I saw you get on an omnibus—Miss Cole did tell me to pick you out—I saw photographs of you and the other man after I picked you out.
ROBERT CANHAM . I keep the post—office and baker's shop in High Street, Stratford—on the evening of 12th October my wife handed me five counterfeit half—crowns, which I afterwards handed to Sergeant Monk.
Cross-examined by Friedman. The coins were given to me a little after eight by my wife in Miss Cole's presence—Miss Cole told me how she obtained them.
Cross-examined by Friedman. You somewhat resemble the description he gave of the persons, except that you are somewhat taller.
ALFRED FRANCIS ROBINSON . I am postmaster at 291, Mile End Road—I cashed this postal order at my office, which is about a mile and a half or two miles from 64, High Street, Stratford—I have no recollection of the person for whom I cashed it.
ADA SHEFFIELD . I am the wife of Albert Sheffield, the postmaster at 80, Stevens Road, West Ham—on the evening of 12th October Friedman came in behind another youth, who, I believe, was Cohen—the one who first came in asked me for a 15s. postal order—I went to the desk and stamped and signed it, and laid it on the counter beside me, and he said, "How much is it?"—six half—crowns were already laid on the counter—he put his hand in his pocket as if to feel for more money, and then Friedman asked for a penny stamp, and gave me a good shilling in payment—I counted the money, and found the first half—crown was bad—I said, "This is a bad one"—I took up the second, and said, "This is bad"—he took it from my hand to look at it, and said, "Are they? I did not know they were; they are just as I had them given to me"—I placed them on the desk and went to call my husband, and while I was gone he bolted out of the shop—I returned, and found Friedman had remained in the shop—he said, "That fellow has bolted; I wanted to ask you if I sent a postal order to Australia could it be changed there?"—my husband came in, and said, "No, it could not"—Friedman said, "We have got a bet on"—he went away—I next saw him at the Police—station, and picked him out from among several others—Friedman's companion in the post—office was wearing a dark overcoat and hard felt hat, and he had curly hair, lighter than Cohen has now—I believe Cohen to be the man—
I handed the coins to my husband immediately afterwards—I did not part with the order; he put down sixpence for the commission.
Cross-examined by Friedman. It was 6.45—I noticed nothing about you to identify you by, except your face.
ALFRED SHEFFIELD . I am postmaster at 80, Stevens Road—I saw Friedman at my office on this day—I afterwards picked him out at the station from thirteen or fourteen others—my wife handed me these counterfeit half—crowns, which I gave to Inspector Shean.
Cross-examined by Friedman. I saw you at 6.45 on 12th October—I know you by your face—I was present when you asked the question about Australia, and I answered it.
WILLIAM HUDSON CLARK . I kept a post—office and stationer's shop at Beulah Hill, Upper Norwood—on Friday, 13th October, about 12.30 midday, Clements and another man, whom I have failed to identify, came in—the second one asked for two 5s. postal orders, and put four half—crowns and twopence on the counter—I gave him the orders, and he left—Clements I remained behind two or three minutes—about the same time that I was passing over the orders he asked me for a penny stamp, and gave me a good florin—he asked me particulars about the Army and Navy, and whether I had any forms handy—I said, "No," and suggested he should go to the district office—he was about two minutes in conversation with me, and then he left—about a minute after he had gone I examined the half—crowns, and found them bad—these are they; I marked them, and afterwards handed them to Inspector Reed—on 17th October I went to the Police—station, and picked out Clements from among several persons—these are the two orders I issued.
Cross-examined by Clements. I did not suspect at the time that you and the other were acting in concert—when I came out of my shop you had disappeared—it would take you two or three minutes to get from my shop to the corner of the road—I identified you by your face—other persons were in my shop; they did not take particular notice of you—I sent a messenger after you when you had been gone about three minutes, to see if he could see anybody like you; he did not see you—to the best of my belief you are the man.
MARGARET FOSTER . I am the wife of Henry Simpson Foster, who keeps the post—office at 6, Forest Hill Road—about two p.m. on 13th October a man came in and asked for a postal order for 10s.—I gave him this order, and he paid me four half—crowns and 11/2d.—I put the half—crowns in the post—office till with the other silver—I cannot say if there were other half-crowns there—my husband came into the office immediately on the man's leaving.
HENRY SIMPSON FOSTER . I keep a chemist's shop and post—office at 6, Forest Hill Road—at 2.5 or 2.10 p.m. on 13th October I came into the post—office from the adjoining room—I saw Friedman, I think, just leaving—I saw his side face and back—I am doubtful whether I identified before the Magistrate the same man that I do now—I do not identify him
by his face; he had curly hair and sloping shoulders—no other person was in the shop—I am not clear whether it was Friedman; I think now it was Cohen; I identify him by his shoulders—after my wife spoke to me I looked in the post—office till, and found these four bad half-crowns—there were no other half—crowns in that till—I took them to the Police-station, marked them in the presence of a constable, and handed them to him.
Cross-examined by Cohen. I only went to the Thames Police-court on one occasion.
LAURA JONES . I am assistant postmistress at the post—office, 124, Friern Road, East Dulwich—on the afternoon of October 13th, a man of about eighteen, whom I cannot identify, came in for a 7s. 6d. order, and paid with three half—crowns, two of which I afterwards found were bad—I handed the bad ones over to a constable, and gave a description of the man as nearly as I could, the same afternoon.
Crow—examined by Friedman. I went to the Thames Police-court on October 17th—I could not recognise any one—the voice of the man aroused my suspicion—now I hear your voice, I believe it is like the voice of the man who came in—I was not prepared to identify you on October 17th; I think now you are the man—I said to you, "Wait," but you went—I rang the coins, but did not weigh them; they were gummy—I put the coins on one another in the corner of the till, and when Mr. Foster came in shortly after, I picked them up and we weighed them—I was told you had been in the Forest Hill Road Post—office, and got an order for four half—crowns, and I was asked if you had presented that order to me, and I said, "The same man must have been here."
ADOLPH BOWERMAN (336 R). About three p.m., on October 13th, Miss Jones handed me these two bad half—crowns, which I marked—she gave me a description of the person from whom she received them—I reported the case to Reed.
By Clements. I received them from you after it had gone twelve on the 13th, while we were in the trap; it was before 2.30—you and Friedman were in the trap outside when I cashed them—no one told me what to say against you—I gave a statement to the Treasury.
By Cohen. I did not see you on the 13th.
EDMUND REED (Detective Inspector H). I took Clements into custody on this charge on the night of 13th October—I told him the charge—he said, "Not me; I work for my living"—on the same night I arrested Friedman and told him the charge—he said, "Someone must have put us away"—on 14th October I arrested Cohen—I told him the charge; he said nothing—when charged at the Police—station on the 14th they said nothing.
By the COURT. There is no truth in the statement that I have entered
into a conspiracy with Myers and other witnesses to bring a false charge against the prisoners; they all wanted to turn Queen's evidence against one another.
SIDNEY KENDALL (Detective 27). On 14th October I arrested Cohen and handed him to Reed—I asked him where the leggings were that he had been wearing—he said; "I have not got them"—afterwards he said, "I have given them to a pal"—I searched the room in which I found him, and found this pair of brown canvas leggings between a box and the wall—I have seen the three prisoners together on several occasions, almost daily in a horse and cart, which Clements was driving—I have also seen them on foot, mostly in the evening—Cohen did not say anything when he saw me find the leggings.
Cross-examined by Clements. I have seen you with the other prisoners for about six weeks; it may be less—I had suspicion of you before 13th October; I made inquiries before arresting you.
Cross-examined by Friedman. Some time previous I saw you at work—I have seen you very seldom in the middle of the day lately—the first time I saw you together was about three weeks ago, as near as I can guess.
Cross-examined by Cohen. I have seen you with your mother, wheeling a barrow occasionally—you were not driving in a trap every day.
ALBERT PEARCE (Sergeant H). I took Friedman on 13th October, and then handed him over to Reed—when I told him the charge he said, "What, me?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "If you had waited a little bit longer you would have made a good job of it."
Cross-examined by Friedman. I don't remember that you said anything else—you did not say, "You have made a mistake, but if you want me I will go?"—you did not struggle—I have not been keeping special observation on any of you lately.
ELI CAUNTER (Detective Sergeant H). I have had the prisoners under my observation for about a month prior to 14th October—I have seen them five or six times during that time, sometimes all three, and sometimes two together; on each occasion they were driving in a pony and trap—the last time I saw them was on 12th October; I then saw Clements and Cohen in a pony and trap in Wentworth Street, Spitalfields—on that occasion Cohen had on this pair of leggings—I accompanied Kendall on the 14th, when he arrested Cohen—I said to him, while he was dressing, "You had a pair of leggings on the 12th, when I saw you"—he said, "Yes, I have sold them to a man"—I afterwards saw them found behind a box in the room where he lived—on the morning of 11th I saw the three prisoners together in Commercial Street, in a trap—I believe it was the same pony and trap I saw them in each time, the one that came from Chapman's yard; it was the same trap in which I saw them on the 12th—they are habitual associates.
Cross-examined by Clements. It was about eight p.m. on 12th October that I saw you—you and Cohen were together in the trap—I did not see Myers—you went quietly with me when I arrested you.
Cross-examined by Friedman. I last saw you before you were arrested on the morning of the 11th; you were giving the pony some water in Commercial Street—I did not see a box behind the trap—to the best of my belief Cohen and Clements had the same pony and trap.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—I have the twenty coins in this case; they are counterfeit half-crowns—the coins in each of the cases are from the same mould, but those in each case are different from those in the others.
MARY ANN ELFORD . I live at 53, Sutton Street, Commercial Road—my husband is a general dealer—on Thursday, October 12th, I called early at your mother's place in Blakesly Street, to ask you to come and work for my husband, and they told me you were ill in bed—I did not see you—I called again in the evening, and waited till someone went up and fetched you out of bed, and you came down about 8.0 or 8.30—you had no boots on, you were partly dressed—you said you would come and work next morning if you were well enough—next morning, Friday, you came at 10.0 or 10.30, and said you were not well enough to work.
Cross-examined. I went to ask him the day before his arrest—I knew him before—he worked for my husband occasionally.
REBECCA GOLDSTEIN . I am your aunt—I live at 16, Lower Fenton Street, Commercial Road—on the day before your arrest, about six p.m., I came to my sister's and saw you lying in bed—I was there till 10.20—you were there till nine, when you went out—you do not live with your mother—I saw you the following day between three and four at your mother's, in the passage—I was there about ten minutes.
Cross-examined. It was last Thursday five weeks; I heard of his arrest the Monday after—I saw him in bed about six; I was in the same room with him the whole of the time—he was in bed in the children's bedroom, upstairs—I was there mostly every day—I have no particular reason for marking the time I go and come away; I keep no account of it—I left the hospital, to which I had taken my child, before six—I asked my mother, who lives there with my sister, what he was doing in bed, and she said he had laid there all the afternoon—they said he was not well—I did not ask him what was the matter; he was fast asleep all the time—when he woke up, I asked him what was the matter with him, and he told me he had cramp in his inside—when he was going out at nine, I did not suggest that it was a very bad thing for him to go out; his mother said, "John, will you have something to eat?" he said, "No," I do not feel well enough to eat—I think the cramp in his inside was over—I did not ask him next day how the cramp in his inside was—he was lying in bed dressed, with his boots on—I went downstairs at the same time that he did.
SAMUEL SHOTLIN . I am a tailor, and live at 22, Newark Street—on Thursday, five weeks last Thursday, from 8.10 or 8.15 till 9. 0, I saw you at Blakesly Street, where your mother lives—Mrs. Goldstein was there—you were sitting by the fireplace in the kitchen—I go there every night—your sister is my intended—I saw you on the Friday night at eight or past eight, at supper time, at the same place—there was a party; you were having supper—you left at nine or past nine; I don't remember.
Cross-examined. An English lady was there on the Thursday night at the same time, as well as Mrs. Goldstein.
By the COURT. He told me he had been ill all day—I asked him what was the matter—he did not tell me—my intended told me he was ill—
he seemed to have something the matter with him when he sat by the fire—he did not complain of having had cramp in the stomach.
ANNA FRIEDMAN . I am the prisoner's mother—you were at my place from noon till nine p.m., on Thursday, the day before your arrest, five weeks last Thursday—you came out at two, and helped me store the clothes I sell in the market, about twenty yards from my place; my daughter also helped me—he was there half an hour—I came in about 2.30, and you said, "Mother, I have got cramps in my inside"—I went out and got you a half—quartern of ginger brandy and two cups of tea, and you went upstairs and laid on the children's bed, and did not come down till past eight or nine, and then you sat in the kitchen with us till I got supper, between eight and nine—I asked you if you would have anything; you said you were not well, and did not care for anything, and you bid us good—night and went home—you sleep at a coffee—house in Osborne Street—on the Friday, you came at ten a.m.; I asked if you were better, and you said, "Yes"—you went away and came again between three and four—and you came home again when I lighted my supper candles, and you stayed with us till 10.30.
Cross-examined. I was at home on the Thursday from half—past two till nine—I did not know anything about his coming till I saw him in the market—I said before the Magistrate that on the Thursday he was ill in bed in the kitchen, and did not go out till nine—he does not sleep at my place, because my family is too large—when he is ill or anything happens to him, he comes to my house—he looked very bad when he came to the market—several people were at my house that evening—a Christian lady came and asked him to go to work next day.
Re-examined. On the Thursday, I gave you a shilling for your lodging, and paid threepence for the brandy for you.
DINAH FRIEDMAN . I am your sister—on the Thursday before your arrest, I came home at one for dinner, and stayed till two; I saw you at the fireplace—you said you were not well—I came home about 8.15 with my intended, and saw you till nine, when you went home—you did not seem very well in the evening; you told me you had a violent cold, pains in your inside—on Friday I saw you at supper—you left between eight and nine.
By the COURT. I was called by my brother before the Magistrate—I said nothing about Friday then; I was not asked.
JESSIE DEARLOVE . I live at 7, Aldgate High Street—I am single—on Friday, 13th October, I was at Russell's coffee—house, and Myers came about 9.30 and asked for the name of "Larky," which was the name I knew you by—I gave you the message, and you went away with him about half—past nine.
Cross-examined. Fuller keeps this Russell's coffee—shop at 3, Osborne Street—I have heard Friedman use the name of "Sailor"—I saw Friedman at the coffee—house early on the afternoon of 12th—he came and gave me sixpence for his bed that night; they have to pay in advance—it was after one o'clock, not very long after, I think—I did not sec him again on that Thursday till he came in between ten and eleven p.m.—on the morning of the Thursday he got up between ten and eleven, as nearly as I can remember—on Friday I saw him between five and six; he gave me sixpence for his bed, and I did not see any more of him—he
made no complaint of being ill, or anything of that sort, on the Thursday, or of having been in bed at his mother's all day.
DEBORAH COHEN. YOU are my brother—about nine p.m. on Thursday, 12th October, I saw you in Middlesex Street, and asked you if you were coming home—you said, "Yes"—you have worked for my mother since 20th July, and never missed a day's work—you left home between 5.30 and six on 12th October—sometimes you worked till 7.30, on Fridays till four—you live at home with us, and work and sleep in our house—my mother salts herrings, cucumbers, and pickles onions, and sells them—on the Friday you worked for my mother, and were not with Friedman and Clements—I saw you go out about nine, before I went to work, and I saw you again about six, and then I saw you in Middlesex Street, and you gave me your leggings to take home—I think these are they—you said you were going to the Britannia Theatre; you said you had toothache—I took the leggings home and put them on the box, and I wanted to get a handkerchief out of the box, and lifted the lid, and the leggings rolled back.
PHILLIPA COHEN . On this Thursday you came home between six and 6.30, and on Friday we came home at five o'clock—you worked for me from 20th July to 10th October, and never stayed an hour away from your work, and you were a very good boy—you have turned over a new leaf.
SOLOMON FRAME . I live at Edgar Road, Shoreditch—I know you have been at work for some time; as to the other two, bad coin has been going about for some time, and I have been told by the sergeant to watch them.
Clements, in his defence, said lie had not seen Myers before; that Fried—man asked him to go about selling rings and jewellery with him, and they hired the pony and trap for that purpose. Friedman stated that it was a case got up against him between Myers and Weatherburn. Cohen stated that Myers had told his mother that if site did not give him money he would put her son away.
GUILTY—CLEMENTS**— Two Years' Hard Labour. FRIED—MAN**— One Year and Ten Months' Hard Labour. COHEN— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 20th, 1893.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted.
EDWARD JONES . I am an assistant to John Barker and Co., of High Street, Kensington—on the morning of 19th July last the prisoner came and said, "I want twelve yards of black cloth, about 2s. 1d. a yard, for Madame Deligny, of 49, Beauchamp Place"—I said we had not that, but we had some at 2s. 6d.—she said that would do—having selected the goods, I offered to send it for her—she said "No, I must take it; it is for mourning, and has to be made up on Monday"—I gave her the bill, and
asked her to sign it, which she did in my presence, "G. Goddard"—I believed her statement, because I knew her coming from there before, or I should not have parted with the goods.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I saw you in the travellers' department downstairs—I can not say the time—I do not go by what the police have told me; they have told me nothing—I picked you out from three others when I was fetched.
FREDERICK JOHN BEND . I am assistant to Messrs. Debenham and Freebody, at their Kensington Road branch—on 21st October I recollect a young woman coming; to the best of my belief, it was the prisoner—she asked me for a piece of cloth—I asked her from whom she came—she gave me this order: "49, Beauchamp Place. Please send 111/2 yards of silk.—J. Deligny"—upon that I took the order to Mr. Ormsby, of the cashier's department; he knew who the credit customers were, and having looked at his book, he entrusted me to deliver the goods—I packed the silk in brown paper, enclosing the invoice, and gave it to her—I asked her to sign the invoice, and saw her sign "G. Goddard"—it was sent out on approbation, to be returned if it was not the right pattern—a few days afterwards, no answer having come from Madame Deligny, she was communicated with, and we got an answer.
Cross-examined. I said at first that you were not the girl—I was called to see you about five minutes past eleven on Saturday evening—you were alone, and I said, "That is not the one"—I do not say so now, because I have seen sufficient evidence that you are, because the clerk has identified you.
By the COURT. I speak from what I have heard since, not from my own recollection of her face.
FREDERICK WILLIAM ORMSBY . I am a clerk to Messrs. Debenham—on 21st October Mr. Bend brought this order to me; somebody was following him—my attention was attracted to the person; it was the prisoner—after I had given him instructions, the parcel was packed up—I saw him make out the invoice, and go close to the prisoner—I had her under my notice for about ten minutes; I am sure of her—I knew the name of Deliney—I searched my book for the name, because the prisoner had never been in the shop before—I was afterwards taken to the Police-court, and in a little room there I saw six or seven women, and I picked the prisoner out.
Cross-examined. I did not go to the Police-court, because I thought I was not wanted—I was not in the Court when you were in the dock—I was sent for when the Court was over, and saw you in a room.
GEORGE H. COOK . I am manager to Debenham and Freebody—I was at the Police-court on 30th October, and saw the prisoner in the dock—Ormsby was not there—after the Court was over I went and fetched him; he did not see her in the dock.
JEANNE DELIGNY . I am a Court dressmaker, of 49, Beauchamp Place—the prisoner was in my service from Whitsuntide till the 3rd June—she did needlework and went on errands for goods that I wanted—she went away on Saturday evening, 3rd June, without notice; she was not dismissed—I did not see her again till she was at the Police-court—I did not give her any orders on 19th August to get any goods for me, or on 21st October to get anything for me from Debenham and Freebody's
—I had sent her to Barker's four or five times, perhaps more, and once to Debenham and Freebody's.
Cross-examined. I did not meet you after you left me and ask you for your address—when you came to me you gave me a false address—the girl I had before you gave me your address, but I did not want it then, not till I missed something.
By the COURT. I have a person named Godet in my service; she was in my service when the prisoner was with me, and is here now.
JULIA JACOBS . I am a searcher at the station—I searched the prisoner—I found on her eighteen pawn—tickets, a piece of ribbon, thirteen shillings, and three halfpence in bronze—the tickets all relate to clothing.
FREDERICK CHURCH (Police Inspector B). I had a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—on October 28th, about ten, I arrested her at the corner of Sloane Street—I said, "Rose, I have a warrant to arrest you for obtaining some silk by false pretences from Debenham's, at South Kensington, on Saturday lost—she said, "Not me, I have had enough of that time; I suppose it is some of my beautiful friends in North Street that have done it for me"—I took her to the station and read the warrant to her—she said, "You will have to prove it"—on Sunday morning I told her there would be a further charge of obtaining silk from Messrs. Barker, of High Street, Kensington—she said, "I have only been to Barker's once, and that was when Madame Deliney sent me."
HENRY JONES (Police—Sergeant B) (Examined by the prisoner) When I went to your father's house I told you that I wanted you for decoying a young girl of fifteen from her home—I did not tell your father I wanted you for this so I made up a case.
Prisoner's defence. I am not guilty; they have brought me here because of something they have heard about my brother. I had been out of work nine weeks before I was taken into custody. I had no intention of doing anything wrong.
Prisoner then PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted in September, 1890, of a like offence, and three other convictions were proved against her.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MORGAN Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
HENRY COLLINS . I am a greengrocer, of 33, Verdure Road, Homerton—on June 26th I received a note from a strange man, in consequence of which I took a horse and cart and harness to 43, Harrogate Road, South Hackney, and saw a respectable—looking man, who hired them till eight o'clock the same night, to move some furniture—I left the horse and cart, and two rugs, and did not see the cart again till about three weeks ago, when it was in the possession of a pork butcher—I have never seen the horse and harness again—the property was worth £38; £16 is for the horse—I thought he was the owner of the house—I said first that he could not have them, and then he sent again.
Cross-examined. The cart was not new; I had had it about ten months—when I found it, my name was painted out and another name painted in, but I recognised it at once.
LAURA LITTLEWOOD . I am a widow, and live at 43, Harrogate Road South Hackney—on June 26th a man, not the prisoner, took apartments in my house; Mr. Collins, who he said was his stoker, afterwards brought a horse and cart—the man took them away; I have not seen him since.
EMMA WHITELEY . I am the wife of Samuel Whiteley—on Monday, June 26th, the prisoner came to my house, and asked if the man who called at my house on the 26th was at home, as he wanted to buy the pony—(a man named Smith took lodgings at my house on June 26th, at ten a.m., and brought a horse and cart with him, which he took away and brought back at dinner—time the same day—he left the cart at my place, and took it to have my address put on it—he did not bring the horse back—he put my name and address on the cart—he asked me if he might do so, but I never saw it—the harness and cart were taken away the same day)—I identify the prisoner as the man who came to buy the pony.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner take anything away—Smith brought them, and took them away the same day.
BRIDGET VICTORY . I am a widow, and live at Shirley Street, Canning Town—about four months ago I bought the two—wheeled cart in question of the prisoner for £2 16s.—I had it some time, and Mr. Collins took it away—I saw the prisoner write this receipt, which he gave me—he did not say whether it was his own.
WILLIAM KEMP (Police Sergeant J). On October 31st, about five o'clock I went to Shirley Street and saw Mrs. Victory—from what she said I went in search of the prisoner, and found him in Biddy Street, hawking fish—I said, "I am a police officer"—and as he seemed to doubt my word, I produced my warrant card—I said, "I want you to be very careful; do you remember buying a cart and a set of harness on or about June 26th?" (THE COMMON SERJEANT refused to allow this conversation to be given)—I gave him till the next night to find it, and then took him in custody—I showed him the receipt, and said, "Do you know the writing?"—he became excited, and said, "My God! where did you get that from?"—I said, "Mrs. Archer gave it to me"—I took Mrs. Victory to be Mrs. Archer—he said, "Well, I am done"—I said, "Where did you get the cart and lamp from?"—he said, "A man came up to me in the Marsh, and said, Ice," (that is the prisoner's nickname) "there is a bloke gone down the Marsh with a bridle in his hand; he has got a cart and a set of harness to sell; be quick; you can have it at your own price; I drove after him, and said, 'Have you got a cart and harness to sell?' He said, 'Yes, you can have it at your own price.' We then went to a piece of waste land at the rear of 47, Cooper Road; he fetched the harness out of No. 47, and I said, 'I will give you 30s. for it—asked "Do you know the man?"—he said, "Yes"—I asked him whether he had any witnesses—he said, "Yes, I have two very good witnesses"—I said, "Who are they?"—he said, "The landlord and landlady of 47, Cooper Road"—I went there with him, and asked them in his presence if they saw anything of the transaction—they said they knew nothing about it—I said, "What has become of the harness?"—he said, "I sold it to a man in Smithfield for 5s.; I don't know who he is," and that the name was on the cart when he bought it.
Cross-examined. I did not take him in custody till the following night.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
GUILTY .—The JURY recommended HAWKINS to mercy. HUNT— Four Months' Hard Labour. WATKINS— One Month's Hard Labour.
MR. SMITH Prosecuted.
THOMAS COWLYN . I live at the Victoria Home, Commercial Street, and am the prisoner's husband—on the evening of 7th November, between eleven and twelve, I was in Shepherd Street, Tenter Street, looking for my wife—on account of her drunken habits I have been living by myself, and I used to meet her to give her money for her subsistence—I saw her outside as I got outside the Duke of Wellington Public—house—she was sober—I told her I had no money for her—she stooped down, lifted up her dress, pulled down her stocking, and taking out a penknife, she made several cuts at me, and said, "Take, that"—I felt I was stabbed, and kept her at bay till a constable came, and I told him what she had done, and gave her into custody—I was stabbed in the cheek, under the chin, and in the rlbs. under the heart.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not pull the knife out; you did not hold me—the knife did not strike your hand—I did not kick you in the stomach.
LEWIS ABRAHAMS . I live at 41, Connor Street—between 11.30 and twelve on this night I was in Shepherd Street; I saw the prisoner and prosecutor—he said, "She has stabbed me"—I said, "Why don't you turn it up? Don't have a row"—I saw the knife picked up, and I gave it to a boy to give to him next morning—I did not see the prisoner use the knife throw it away.
WALTER KENZIE (446 H). I was on duty on this night—I went up to a crowd in Shepherd Street, and the prosecutor came to me and said he had been stabbed—I saw blood issuing through his shirt, and also from a wound in his; chin—he pointed the prisoner out to me, and I took her into custody—I asked her for the knife with which she had done it—she said she had not got a knife—I afterwards received this knife from the prosecutor.
By the prisoner. I have not had it for twelve months—I did not stab you with it.
PERCY JOHN CLARKE . I live at 2, Spital Square, and am assistant to the divisional surgeon—I was called to the Commercial Street Police-station at half—past eleven on this night—I there saw the prosecutor suffering from a stab in the left side, over the ninth rib, nearly half—an—inch deep, and a little over a quarter of an inch long—he also had a stab on the cheek a quarter of an inch deep and a quarter of an inch long—the stab on the chest slanted slightly upwards—this knife would have caused those stabs—the one on the side was in a dangerous position, but the wounds
themselves were not dangerous; they might have been so; the one might have gone into the lungs.
The prisoner in her defence stated that her husband had been away from her for six months, and had not given her any tiling for the support of herself and her children.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. ROOTH Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended Flowergill.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL, HORACE AVORY, and A. GILL Prosecuted; and MR. GUY STEPHENSON Defended Wright, at the request of the COURT.
THOMAS PRESTON . I live at 19, Cullum Street, Stratford, and am a fireman on the Great Eastern Railway—on 18th August, about 4.50 p.m., I was in the Commercial Hotel, Stratford—I there saw Pryke—we had half a pint of beer and ginger—beer together—while there Robinson came in—he said to Pryke, "What the b——hell are you looking at?"—Pryke said, "I am not looking at you"—Robinson said, "If I b——well owe you anything, I will b——well pay you"—I left the house about twenty minutes to six—I returned about quarter—past seven—Pryke was not there then—Robinson and a stout man, whose name I did not know, were there, and also Mrs. Wright—I knew her—I also knew Wright at that time—as I was leaving the house, about twenty minutes to seven, Pryke just entered the door—Robinson and Wright were not there then—I did not see them go.
Cross-examined by MR. STEPHENSON. I went into the house about ten minutes to five, and stayed till twenty minutes to six—Pryke was there during that time, drinking—when I returned, about 7.15, he came in, and had half a pint of ginger—beer and ale—I saw Wright there—he was dressed in working clothes—he was clean—shaved, but had a moustache—I only saw him have one glass of ale—Pryke had two half—pints with me.
Re-examined. Robinson was drunk when I left the house; Wright was not—I think Pryke had had a little too much; he was not drunk—he had had more than he ought to have taken, and no food inside.
CORNELIUS DAVID O'CONNOR . I am landlord of the Commercial Hotel, Martin Street—I know Robinson—I had seen him, but did not know his name till this case turned up—I saw him on the evening of 18th August, as near as I can remember between seven and half—past—I know Wright as a customer—he was there with Robinson and Mrs. Wright—I don't know how long they were there—I did not see them come in or when
they left—I did not serve them—they were quite sober when I saw them.
Cross-examined by MR. STEPHENSON. I believe Wright is a sailor; he has been to sea—I never heard anything against him—I did not see Pryke at all that night.
MARY WELCH . I am a widow, and live at 29, Cullum Street, Stratford, which is a corner shop—on Friday night, 18th August, about a quarter—past eight, as I was standing at my front door, I saw three men coming round the corner, on the opposite side, from the direction of the Commercial hotel—they were walking arm—in—arm, the deceased being in the middle—I afterwards recognised him at the hospital—the three men seemed to be quarrelling, or talking very loud—as they passed on their words got louder and higher—when they had gone on about five yards I looked across and saw them striking the man—I saw Robinson knock him down—he struck him with his fist in the rlbs—he got up again, and he was knocked down again by the man they call Wright—I recognise him now, but I was too much excited to look in his face much—I believe he is the man, I would not swear to him; I knew Robinson before by sight—I did not know Wright—Pryke was knocked down with his back against the wall—they both struck him with their fists—Wright knocked him down and then kicked him—I went across to them and said, "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, knocking the poor man like that"—Wright said, "He has asked my wife to meet him at the top of the street"—Pryke said, "I did not"—Wright said, "What! You lie, you b—, you did; you will never ask her again"—Pryke was on the ground at that time with his back against the wall—Robinson up with his fist and was going to give him a blow—Wright said, "Hold on, Bill, one at a time; leave him alone to me, I will settle the b——"—I saw no blows after that—I left and went back to my shop; a crowd of people had assembled by that time—about ten minutes after I saw the two return together, Wright smoking a cigar; Pryke was still on the ground and the policeman was there.
Cross-examined by MR. STEPHENSON—I believe Wright lived two or three doors from me, at 10, Cullum Street—I don't know that I ever saw him; I won't swear to him; I know Robinson—when I went up Pryke was on the ground with his back against the wall; his left leg was out and his right leg was under him—I did not see it all, such a crowd had assembled—the kick I saw was on the left side of the leg—the blow in the face seemed a severe one—I did not see any mark—it did not seem to me that either of them were drunk—as far as I could see Pryke was trying to get out of their way—he could have walked, if they had left him alone.
Cross-examined by Robinson. You knocked the man down; he did not fall against the wall then, he fell by the side of you; it was from the second blow that he fell against the wall.
ELIZA DILLEY . I am the wife of William Dilley, of 27, Cullum Street, next door to Mrs. Welch—on Friday evening, 18th August, between eight and a little after, on coming out of my house to call in ray children, I saw three men cross the road—one, who I afterwards found was Pryke, was crouched up to the wall, and the other two were in front of him—I
had never seen them before—I recognise Robinson as one of them—I could not recognise the other—Robinson held up his closed hand to strike Pryke; the other man turned round and said, "Hold hard, one at a time; leave him to me and I will finish him"—Robinson came from where he was standing to where I was—the other man did not move—he stood still in front of Pryke—he punched Pryke, and was going to punch him again, when I caught hold of Robinson's coat—sleeve and said: "That be d—d don't let him hit the man down"—the other man said, "Not hit him?"—he ought to be "killed" or "dead," I don't know which—one of them then pulled Pryke up by his coat, and said "You b——stand up; are you drunk, or not?"—he could not stand; he slid down with his right leg under him—I saw Mrs. Welch—when I went across the road she was going back to her shop—I saw the ambulance come and take the man away.
ROSETTA BECKWITH . I am the wife of John Beckwith, of 31, Cullum Street, next door to Mrs. Welch—on the night of 18th August I was standing by my door with a baby on my arm—I saw three men coming along the dead wall opposite, holding each other's arm—Pryke was in the middle—I recognise the prisoners as the other two—Wright let go Pryke's arm, and hit him on the side of the face, near the ear, and knocked him on the ground, and said, "You shall never have the chance of taking my wife away as you did the other man's wife," and he kicked him in the leg—Robinson picked him up by his coat—sleeve, and hit him in the nose, and said, "You b——, can't you stand? If you can't I will finish you"—Wright pushed Robinson into the road, and said, "Go away, Bul," calling him a dreadful name, and said, "I will finish the cow's son"—they then left him on the ground, and walked to the corner of the street—I saw a policeman, and crossed over to him—I did not see Mrs. Welch there, she had turned away to her house—a chair was fetched, and Pryke was placed upon it—I saw both the prisoners come back smoking cigars; they came up to Pryke, and Wright said "Hallo, you b——, ain't you dead? If you ain't you ought to be. I should like to know the neighbour that lent you the chair to sit on"—the policeman was there, stooping down feeling the poor man's leg, which was bleeding—I said to Wright, "You two wicked brutes; ain't you satisfied with what you have done?"—they told me to hold my noise; if I did not they would have me set—the policeman then asked their names and addresses—Wright said he lived at 10, Little Cullum Street; Robinson said he lived at a lodging—house in Angel Lane—the three men seemed as though they had had a little drink—when Pryke was on the ground his right leg was doubled underneath him and the other leg was stretched out—that was after he was knocked down a second time—his trousers looked as if his bone was sticking out, and the blood was pouring out on the pathway.
Cross-examined. When I first saw them Pryke was not walking by himself: the others each had hold of an arm—I believe he was able to walk, by the manner he was walking—I don't think he was drunk enough to fall down—Wright had a moustache, with some whiskers; he is different now—I do not know Phillips—I had not seen Wright before; I swear to him—I am certain that the men who came back are the same men that went away.
Street—on 18th August I was standing at my door—I saw the two prisoners and Pryke come round the corner from Cullum Street, Pryke walking in the middle—I knew Wright before, for twelve months or more; he lives close to me—I saw them have a few words together—I saw Wright strike Pryke in the nose, and he fell to the ground—I said, "Two to one is not fair"—I did not see anything more done to Pryke; I was fetched away—I came back in ten minutes, and found Pryke lying on the ground, with his right leg under him—I helped to put him on a chair—I did not see the prisoner again; I was fetched away.
Cross-examined. Pryke was with his back to the wall, his right leg doubled under him and his other leg right out.
EDWARD JONES (672 K). I was called to Cullum Street and saw Pryke sitting on a chair outside No. 29—he appeared to be in great pain—he was sober; he spoke intelligibly; he answered my questions—both the prisoners were standing by, in the road—Rosetta Beckwith pointed them out and said, "Those are the two men that done it"—I asked them," Did they knock the man down?"—Wright said, "No, governor, I saw him fall down at the corner"—Robinson said, "So did I"—I then asked Pryke, "Did these two men knock you down?"—he said, "I don't know whether I have been knocked down, or whether I fell"—the prisoners again said they saw him fall down at the corner—I said, "I shall take your names and addresses as witnesses"—Robinson said, "My name is William Robinson, Lodging—house, Great Eastern Road"—the other said, "My name is James Wright, 10, Cullum Street"—I then attended to the injured man, got an ambulance, and took him to the Great Western Hospital—on 8th September I saw Robinson among a number of other persons, and picked him out as one of the men I had seen that night.
ROBERT JOHN HILLYER , M.R.C.S. I am house surgeon at West Ham Hospital—I was on duty there on the 18th August when Pryke was brought in—I examined him; he had a compound fracture of the right leg; the bone was broken about four inches above the ankle; the fracture of the two bones was on the same level and at the same distance from the foot—from the fact of the two bones being broken on the same level, I should say it was caused by direct violence, as by a kick—in my opinion he was distinctly the worse for drink when he came in—I should say it could have been caused by a fall, but that is extremely unlikely—he could not have walked after receiving the injury—it would have required considerable violence to fracture both bones—I found no other injuries about the face or body—I continued to attend him for ten days—I saw no bruise on his face; he did not complain of any.
Cross-examined. He was a fair—sized man—it is possible that such a fall as has been described might have caused the injuries—if we had had our way in the hospital we should have tried amputation, but his friends would not allow it—I believe he died of blood poisoning, but I was away at the time.
STEWART RYLE BLAKE . I am Senior House Surgeon at West Ham Hospital—on 18th August I was away for my holiday; on my return I saw the deceased—I have heard Mr. Hillyer describe his injuries; I quite agree with his description—the bone had been actually forced through the skin—I do not think the injury was due to a fall—there was a con—
sultation by the whole medical staff of the hospital, and they came to the conclusion that to save the man's life amputation was desirable, but his friends refused—he died on 12th September of pyemia, blood—poisoning,. as a result of suppuration from the wound.
Cross-examined. If a man of his weight slipped down suddenly on his leg in rather a drunken condition it might cause such injuries, but it is extremely improbable—amputation might have saved his life—I did not see him when he came in.
Re-examined. Death was the result of the injury to his leg.
WILLIAM EUSTACE (Detective). On 8th September I was in Broad Street, Stratford, with Inspector Milton, and saw Robinson coming to the east end of Broad Street, walking quietly on tip—toe to the corner of Cullum Street—after looking round the corner several times he went to Cullum Street, about thirty yards, and went into a gateway—in a few minutes he returned and walked quietly back to the east end of Broad Street,. where I lost sight of him—I next saw him a few minutes later in the Broadway, Stratford—I followed him up Angel Lane, and as he was about to enter a common lodging—house I stopped him, and said, "I am a police officer; is your name Robinson?"—he said, "No, governor, you have made a mistake; my name is Place"—I said, "Where have you come from?"—he said, "Straight from Plaistow, up Angel Lane, here"—I said, "I believe you are the man who gave the name of Robinson to a constable on the 18th August at Cullum Street—he said, "I don't know anything about it"—I said, "I shall take you to West Ham Police-station, and make some inquiries"—I did so—I searched him, and found on him a ticket containing the name of William Robinson.
Cross-examined. The original charge on which he was arrested was feloniously wounding.
CHARLES MILTON (Police—Inspector). I was with Eustace when Robinson went through Broad Street—after he was at the station I said to him, "I am an inspector of police; I believe you are the man that gave the name of Robinson to a constable in Cullum Street on the 18th of August"—he replied, "No, governor"—I said, "I am going to let a constable see you for the purpose of identity"—Jones saw him—I afterwards said to Robinson, "The constable says you are the man that gave the name of Robinson in Cullum Street when a man's leg was broken"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "Then, why give your name to the constable as a witness?"—he said, "Well, I saw him fall, but as to knocking him down, I know nothing about it"—I said, "Nothing has been said by me that the man was knocked down"—he said, "No, that is right, governor, but people say he was"—I then told him he would be detained for further inquiries—Wright was afterwards handed over to me at Rotterdam by the Dutch police—I told him the charge—he said "I am not guilty"—I knew him before by sight—he was then clean shaved—his whiskers have grown, which alters his appearance, and he is not so stout.
Cross-examined. He has not been before the Magistrate; only formal evidence was taken yesterday as to identity—Perry saw him then, but not the other witnesses—a number of certificates were handed over to me by the Dutch police, on every one of which is a note, "Character for conduct, very good"—also a document showing that he was employed as a donkey—man in the service.
GUILTY .— Three Months' Hard Labour each.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
60. WALTER CORBETT (18) , PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 56 lbs. of copper wire, also 14 lbs. weight of copper wire, the property of the Postmaster—General, having been convicted of felony at West Hamin October, 1892.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Fourteen previous convictions were proved against the prisoner.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Three Years' Penal Servitude. And
PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a clock, the property of Henry Marfleet ; having both been convicted of felony, Lawrence in July, 1886, at Chelmsford, and Griffiths at Chelmsford in July, 1886. LAWRENCE— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. GRIFFITHS— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted, and MR. HOME Defended.
EDWIN DALE . I am a tailor, of 22, Victoria Dock Road—on Thursday, 12th October, I left the premises in charge of my manager at two p.m.—I was called to the premises on the Friday morning and found the shop door open and a constable in charge—I missed an overcoat, a shirt, and other articles—I went into Ralph's Music Hall that night—I did not see the prisoner there—I have seen him about the neighbourhood.
HENRY WILLIAM SMITH . I live at 6, Hatfield Town, and am assistant at a clothes shop—on this evening I had been to Ralph's Music Hall, and left when the last item was on—I passed Mr. Dale's shop, noticed that the door was open, and saw the prisoner coming out—I knew him before, he being a one—armed man, and I saw his face—on Friday, the 13th, I heard something, and went to Canning Town Police—station, and pointed out the prisoner among a good many others—he said, "Smithie, how could a one—armed chap like this commit a burglary?"
Cross-examined. It was a darkish night, but we were close together, and I knew him—I had no conversation with him; I was hurrying home—I have never had a doubt about him; I could have picked him out from a hundred—I did not tell a woman named Guyard that I was wrong, but I could not go back from my word—the prisoner had his coat on—I was at the public—house all night, but I am a teetotaler.
Re-examined. He looked me well in the face, and then turned.
JAMES ANDREWS (Police Inspector). On October 13th, about 12.35, I visited Mr. Dale's house—the door had been opened, apparently by pressure—there were marks, but the screws were forced—articles were strewed about the floor and bed.
GEORGE REED (Police—Sergeant). On 13th October, at 3.15, I saw the prisoner at the tidal basin, and said, "I shall take you into custody for breaking into Mr. Dale's shop last night—he said, "You have made
a mistake; I was at Ralph's last night"—he was placed with seven, others and identified by Smith—he said, "You have made a mistake, Smithie"—Smith said, "No, I have not"—the prisoner said, "How can. a man with one arm break a door open?"—nothing had been said to him. about a door being broken open.
CHARLES Cox. I am manager to Mr. Dale—on Thursday, October 12th, I left the premises safe, and the keys remained in my possession till I was called there.
FRANCIS FRANT (Police—Sergeant, 603 K). On October 13th I was in Victoria Dock Road, and saw Mr. Dale's shop open—a lot of coats and other articles were thrown about on the floor—I sent for assistance.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrates: "The boy said I had only one arm; is there no more than one one—armed man about? I have two witnesses."
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM ENGLISH . I live at 32, Berners Street, and am potman at the Windsor Castle, Victoria Dock Road—I cannot remember the date, but I saw the prisoner one night at a music—hall, and gave him twopence to go up—I was with him an hour and a half, and saw him till about 11.40—it was the night of Mr. Ralph's benefit.
Cross-examined. The last time I was there was two weeks before—I did not go to the Police-court, because I had to get my work done, and I lost the last train.
(Policeman). I know the prisoner—on Mr. Ralph's benefit night I saw him come into the house at 6.45—I did not see him later.
Cross-examined. I was on duty the whole evening—I have known him some years—he might be in there without my seeing him.
Re-examined. It was a very full night.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
MR. M'KEEVER Prosecuted.
ROBERT JAMES COOTS . I am fifty—six—I live at 72, Brewer Street, Woolwich—on the evening of 24th October I was proceeding home, and about thirty yards from my gate the prisoner caught me violently by my arm, and half twisted me round, and said to his companion, "Why did you push me against this man?"—his companion said, "I did not push you"—the prisoner then said, "You did—"I turned and saw the prisoner, and saw what his character was, and I hurried on—when I arrived at my gate, and thirteen steps from the gate to my front door, the prisoner put his left arm, I believe, round my neck, and pinched me as hard as he
could, putting his other hand over my mouth, causing my cheeks to bleed inside, and stopping my breath for a few minutes—at the same time his companion tore open my trousers pockets, extracted my purse, containing 17s., and I believe 5d.—as soon as I regained my breath I followed the prisoner—I never lost sight of him—a third man attempted to trip me up—the prisoner went down Brewer Street, and I followed, calling "Stop thief!"—a man rushed out of a house in Red Lion Street, and caught the prisoner, who was then a few yards ahead of me—I said to the man, "Take hold of him; keep your eye on that man; he half strangled me," and I was following the other man, who had my purse, but the man who was holding the prisoner said, "Don't proceed further; will you charge him?"—that man turned out to be a constable—I have no doubt that the prisoner is the man who assaulted me—I believe he said, "I am chasing the man that stole the money."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. My throat was very much injured inside, and bled; it stopped me from eating for three or four days.
JOHN HOLDEN (171 R). About 9.25 p.m. on 24th October I was sitting at home, at supper, when I heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I ran out, and saw the prisoner pass my gate, running—I ran towards him, and the prosecutor, who was three yards behind, shouted, "Stop him; keep your eye on him; that is the man that held me down while the other one robbed me"—I ran up close to the prisoner; he stopped—I explained that I was a policeman, and the prosecutor said he would charge him—I took him to the station—on the way to the station the prisoner said, "This is all right; I was running after the other two, and I have got into trouble myself."
GUILTY .** †
Three Years' Penal Servitude, and Five Strokes with the Cat.
MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted.
WILLIAM DOWD . I live at 12, Camber Street, Woolwich, and am a servant in the Royal Military Academy—about 11.30 p.m. on 15th October I was going home along Brick Hill Road, when the prisoner and another man attacked me—the prisoner struck me in the chest with his fist and knocked me down, and when I got up he struck me in the face" and knocked me down again; blood flowed from my face, and I have a terrible scar—I struggled with the prisoner on the ground, and shouted for police, and the prisoner said, "Send for a policeman," because he saw he could not get away—while on the ground I lost nine shillings from my waistcoat pocket and an Albert chain; the prisoner took them—I held him till I got assistance, and I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined. I was going home by myself—I was not on my knees, striking matches—this was on a Sunday; I had been out from about 6.30—I had about sixteen shillings, and I had been in several public houses, and was under the influence of drink, but not so much as that I should not know you—I had spent two shillings or three shillings, I daresay—I had not had enough to drink to make me intoxicated—I did not keep account of them—I have had three drinks to—day—I did not exactly count me money; I gave a rough guess—the coppers were on the ground in thy
scramble when the outrage took place—a woman was not with me when I was on the footpath on my knees—you did not say, "What is the matter?" to me, or to anybody.
JOHN JACKSON . I am a fruit salesman, of 32, Upper Margate Street, Woolwich—on the night of 15th October, shortly after eleven, I was going along Upper Brick Hill Road, and I heard cries of "Murder!"—thinking it was a drunken row, I did not go for a minute or two; then I ran, and saw two men struggling with the prosecutor eighty or 100 yards away—I ran, and when about fifty yards off one man ran away, and as I advanced the prisoner knocked the prosecutor down like a bullock with his fist; it was a fearful blow—the prisoner then made a snatch, and the prosecutor's money fell out on the ground—I ran up, and the prosecutor said, "I have been robbed"—the prisoner was there—I said, "All right; I will see you all right"—the prisoner said, "Fetch a policeman"—at that moment another civilian came up and said, "I will take hold of him"—the prosecutor said, "I have lost my watch and chain"—he was covered with blood and in a dreadful condition; he has a scar on his face now—I picked up a penny—I should say the prosecutor had been drinking; it was hard to tell how much; he had been knocked about.
Cross-examined. It was a beautiful moonlight night, as light as day.
WILLIAM MEAHAN . I am a labourer, of 23, Milward Street, Woolwich Common—at 10.45 p.m. on 15th October I was going up Milward Lane and heard a cry of "Murder!" coming from Brick Hill Road—I ran round, and saw the prosecutor struggling with the prisoner, and the last witness about eight yards from them, in the middle of the road—I said to him, "What is the matter?"—he said something, and then I collared hold of the prisoner and got him against the wall—he said, "Send for a polices-man"—I said, "Yes, you are not going till a policeman comes up"—I held him till a policeman came—I saw the prisoner shove the prosecutor down with his open hand.
Cross-examined. The last witness told me you had robbed the prosecutor—you only said, "Send for a policeman."
JAMES BAKER (307 72). I was on duty in Brick Hill Road, and heard cries, as if a man was being throttled, about 11.30, and I ran and saw the prisoner struggling with the prosecutor on the ground—I asked what was the matter—the prosecutor said, "The prisoner has robbed me of my watch and chain and money"—Meahan put his hand on the prisoner just as I turned the corner—I seized the prisoner as well—the prosecutor was bleeding from a wound on the side of his face; we had to call the divisional surgeon to him—I heard him saying, as I was turning the corner, "Here is the policeman; what is it you want?"—the prisoner said, "Then catch the other man that has run away; I haven't the watch and chain"—the prosecutor had been drinking, and was the worse for drink—the prisoner struggled at first to get away, but when he found he could not, he desisted.
Cross-examined. Your hat was off when I arrived—I did not pull you to the ground when you stooped to pick it up—I told you I could not see any hat—at the station I searched and found on you sixpence in coppers; I did not find the prosecutor's watch and chain on you—I found the watch in the prosecutor's pocket, with the swivel on it; the chain was lost—4 1/2 d. was picked up on the ground at the time.
The prisoner in his defence stated he saw the prosecutor on his knees striking matches, with a woman standing behind him; that he helped him to his feet, and advised him to go home.; that the prosecutor accused him of stealing his watch and chain; that he (the prisoner) then pushed the prosecutor away with his open hand, and he fell to the ground, and his money fell out, and the witnesses came up.
GUILTY . †— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour, and Ten Strokes with five Cat.
He PLEADED GUILTY to the stealing only.
MR. PASSMORE Prosecuted.
JOHN NEWMAN . I am a labourer, of 92, Bloomfield Street, Plumstead—on the night of 21st October the prisoner and three men came up to me—one asked for a light; I said I had not got one—he went to hit me with this right hand; I put my head on one side, and caught him with my left then another man put his knee in my back, and caught me on each aide of the face, and another one caught me by the throat, and one of them stole my watch—when the prisoner found I was pulling myself round he struck me in the face with his fist—I caught him; he had the watch on him, and I gave him into custody.
FAMES FORBES (167 R). I saw the prisoner coming down the road, and took him in charge on the night of the 21st—the prosecutor was sober; his jaw was hanging down, and streaks of blood and water were running down his mouth; he could not speak for over ten minutes—the divisional surgeon has not treated him.
JOHN NEWMAN (Re-examined by the COURT). I have been under a doctor's care for my throat—I am a skilled labourer—I have been at work since this happened—I have suffered great pain—it is difficult for me to speak.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he took the watch, as he was hard up, but that he had no hand in the violence.
GUILTY . †— Eighteen Months Hard Labour, and Ten Strokes with the Cat.
The GRAND JURY and the COURT commended the officer in this case.
MR. RHODES Prosecuted.
GEORGE HODGSON . I am an undertaker, of 59, Marmion Road, Plumstead—about 11.15 on 31st October I was in High Street, Woolwich—I heard footsteps behind me; I turned and nil the prisoner and another man—the prisoner came up, facing me, and placed his left arm round my meek and dragged me down, and the other man got on my legs—the prisoner with his right hand took a half—crown out of my right—hand pocket—I defended my watch and purse with my right and left hands—I called for assistance, and heard footsteps coming, and the prisoner and the other man decamped—for the minute or two that I was on my back I was looking at the prisoner, and therefore I have not the slightest doubt but that he is the man—I searched the locality with the constable to find the prisoner, and I did so about 12.20 the same night, coming out of the
Salutation Arms—I recognised him at once, and he was arrested—two men who gave evidence for him at the Police—court were leaving that public—house with him—it was 11.15 when I was attacked—I was on the Ferry when the clock struck eleven.
PATRICK MCLOCHLAN (38 R R). About 11.15 on this night I heard cries for help from the direction of High Street—I went and found the prosecutor apparently hurt, and his clothes in a very dirty condition—he made a communication to me, and we searched the locality—about an hour afterwards we saw the prisoner leaving a public—house a little over half—a-mile from the place in the High Street where the robbery took place—on being charged the prisoner said he did not do it; that he had been in that public—house an hour previous—he was perfectly sober—1/2d. was found on him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN FUREY . I am single, and live at 28, Series Road, Plumstead—you were with us from 8.30 in the Distillery, and from there we went to the Star and Garter, and from there we went straight to the Salutation at eleven, and did not leave till 12.20; you and George Thorne were with me all the while—you are my cousin—I am keeping company with Thorne—I could not say where you live.
Cross-examined. This was last Tuesday week; we all met at the same time at the Distillery—he was in our company all the time, and never left it—we had several drinks at the Distillery Public—house; I could not exactly say how long we were there—we had several drinks at the Star and Garter; Thorne paid because the prisoner had no money—I suggested leaving the Star and Garter and going to the Salutation—we stayed there from eleven to 12.20, drinking all the time—I had mild and bitter all the evening; I could not say how much—Thorne had ginger—beer and brandy, I think—Thorne goes to sea—I know that we went into the Salutation at eleven because I looked at the time; I wanted to go home.
By the COURT. I did not notice the time we left the Distillery or got to the Star and Garter; it was a little after ten; I did not look at the clock there—I could not say what time we left the Star and Garter—it would take us about ten minutes or a little more to get from there to the Salutation—I am quite certain it was about eleven when we got to the Salutation; I saw the clock—the prisoner was in my company the whole evening, and never left it for a moment—excepting when walking from one public—house to the other, we were in public—houses all the evening—we were all sober—I did not go home at eleven, although I wanted to; I stopped with the young men, who were talking—we did not go down High Street that night—we went up Eyre Street and Power Street—High Street is about two or three minutes' walk from the Star and Garter—it would be quite as short to go from the Stir and Garter to the Salutation by way of the High Street as by any other way.
GEORGE THORNE . I am a seaman, of Clarendon Chambers, Woolwich—I was called before the Magistrate—on this Tuesday evening I was with you till 12.20—we visited the High Street Distillery, and from there we went down, High Street and Eyre Street to the Star and Garter, which we reached at 10.30; I looked at the clock—we went from there along Power Street, and round by Burt's, the jeweller's, to the Salutation, which we reached at eleven o'clock, and we stayed there till 12.20, when
you were arrested outside the door as we were saying "Goodnight"—I went to the Police—station with you.
Cross-examined. I came from my last voyage Last November, and I have done five months in Her Majesty's telegraph ship the Monarch, since then, as a cable hand—since that I have been coaling in the docks and doing any work I can pick up—I have had enough of the sea—the prisoner was alone when I met him, but just before that he was speaking to his cousin, and we all went into the Distillery together—I and the prisoner had several drinks—the girl did not have so much—I paid for the drinks—I fix the time when we got to the Salutation at eleven, because the girl asked me how long I was going to keep her, because she wanted to get home—she said her mother would get on at her, but there being a bit of a bother between two women in the Salutation it kept us there—the girl drew my attention to the fact that it was eleven—we could see a big clock over our heads.
PATRICK MCLOCHLAN (Re-examined). The Distillery Tavern is about five minutes' walk from the Star and Garter, and from the Distillery to High Street is ten or twelve yards—the Star and Garter is at the corner of High Street and Power Street.
GEORGE HODGSON (Re-examined). I have lived in Woolwich twelve years—I was assaulted not two yards from the Distillery Tavern and four or five minutes' walk from the Star and Garter, and about four minutes' walk from the Salutation—it was a fine night and not more than five or six yards from a lamp—post—I recognised the prisoner instantly when he came out of the public—house, without any doubt or misgiving.
By the prisoner. I went in the Salutation at 12.10 or 12.15, and looked round, and I saw and recognised you inside there, and then waited outside with the constable till you came out.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CHARLES ORR . I am barman at the Star Public—house, Woolwich—on Thursday night, 26th October, the three prisoners came in with two women—Foster called for five glasses of mild ale and offered me a half-crown—I looked at it, and called Mr. Elvis and gave it to him.
WILLIAM ELVIS . I keep the Star Public—house, Wellington Street, Woolwich—on the night of the 26th October Orr handed me this half-crown, and I said to the prisoners, whowere altogether and could hear me, that it was a rank bad one—each of them looked at it—Foster said he wished he had got a lot of them—the others said nothing—I returned the coin to Foster and he paid me with good money—he put the half-crown in his purse, and they all went away—I went out before them, and stood at the corner—they went up the road together, and into the Abercrombie, in Artillery Place, a little distance from my house—I went into the private liar and spoke to the landlord, and then we examined the till and found this half—crown—I could not swear if it was the same one that I had given back to Foster—the landlord spoke to the prisoners at the other side of the bar.
the three prisoners came in for a pot of 6d. ale—I supplied them, and Foster gave me a half—crown; I dropped it in the till and gave them 2s. change—there was no other half—crown there—Mr. Elvis then called me into the private bar and spoke to me and my employer, who went to the till.
STETFAST. I keep the General Abercrombie Public—house—on the night of 26th October I saw the three prisoners in my bar—Mr. Elvis came in and spoke to me, and in consequence I went to my till, and Jones pointed out this half—crown, which I saw at once, as soon as I opened the till—I sent for the police.
JAMES FORBES (167 R). I was called to the General Abercrombie on 26th October, where I saw the prisoners—the landlord pointed to Foster, and said, "That is the man who passed the half—crown—Foster replied, "If you had told me it was bad I could have paid; I have other money in my pocket"—nothing was said to Stewart or O'Connor—I searched them—on Stewart I found a half—crown, two florins, a shilling, a sixpence, and ninepence bronze, all good—on Foster, a florin, two shillings, five sixpences, and sevenpence, all good—I did not search O'Connor; I saw him searched, and 3d. found on him—they were taken to the station, and charged with knowingly uttering the half—crown—Stewart made no reply—Foster said, "We went into the Three Crowns Public—house, North Woolwich, and changed half—a—sovereign; from there we went to the High Street Distillery, Woolwich, and from there to the Salutation, and we never went into any other public—house until we went to the Abercrombie"—they all heard what he said—O'Connor said, "Yes, we went from High Street Distillery to the Salutation, and from there to the Abercrombie"—after the prisoners were charged, Elm said, "They have been in my place, and I told them it was bad; each took it in their hands, and looked at it, and said it was good. Foster said he wished he had got a lot of them"—the prisoners made no answer; each kept repeating the same statement that they had been to the Crown, Distillery, Salutation, and Abercrombie.
Stewart, in a written defence, stated that he was second engineer, and Foster cook, of the "River Avon"; that, on 26th October, they came ashore, and went to the Three Crowns, where Foster changed a half-sovereign; that they met O'Connor, who took them to show them the town; that, when Foster was told the second time a half-crown was bad, he (Stewart) was sitting away from the bar, talking to two girls, and paying no attention to what Foster paid with.
Foster said that in the Abercrombie he did not pay any attention to what he put down, as he was talking to two girls.
O'Connor stated that lie met Foster and Stewart in the Distillery, and they gave him two or three glasses of ale, and asked him to show them the town, as they were strangers; and that they met two girls, to whom he and Stewart were talking when Foster paid, in the Abercrombie.
The COMMON SERJEANT expressed the opinion that, when the Authorities discovered that these prisoners were men of good character, they should not have proceeded with the case. The JURY concurred in this The,
COMMON SERJEANT added that the prisoners were discharged without a stain on their characters.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. H. AVORY Prosecuted and MR. BLACKWELL Defended.
GEORGE ESCOURT CRESSWELL . I keep the Mitre Tavern, Greenwich—on Tuesday, July 25th, I was at Goodwood Races, and saw the two prisoners about 3.30—Marden said, "Halloa, governor, what are you doing down here?"—I said, "I have come down to back McDoyle—I afterwards saw him again, and he said, "Governor, I see your fancy has come off; I have got a nice brooch, with initials on it; you ought to buy it for the missis"—he said, "What are the initials?"—I told him—he said, "I will get you one made, or near to it"—I said, "Yes"—he said,. "You might write your name and address in my pocket—book"—it was a book of this size (Produced)—I wrote down my name and my full address,. Mitre Hotel, and he put the book in his pocket—I saw his writing once, when he wrote me a letter at the beginning of this year—this book with my name and address in it is similar to what I received—I did not send any telegram to Cresswell to send me money, but when I got home Miss Benford, who manages the house, made a communication to me—I did not write this telegram asking for £3 to be sent to me—this receipt is signed "George Cresswell"—I was at Goodwood again next day, and saw the prisoners coming out of the post—office—they went away together—I have no recollection of speaking to any body else that day, or telling anybody where I lived—Butler could hear what Marden said to me.
Cross-examined. I know Wood, a publican at Greenwich—he is not a racing man—I do not know a Wood who is a racing man—I spoke to several persons at Goodwood, who I did business with—I did not put down any name in the book of a man named Wood—Marden had not sent me telegrams, but he sent me one later on, to Greenwich at the beginning of the year—I did not say to Marden that I had lost some money to a man there—I had not lost £40 at Goodwood or at a race shortly before—I wrote my name in a book, but this is not my writing, and this is not the book—I was not with a man from Birmingham when I saw Marden, or at all.
By the COURT. I spell my name with two "s's", and I wrote it properly in the prisoner's book.
FLORENCE EMILY BENFORD . I manage the Mitre Hotel, Greenwich, for Mr. Cresswell—on July 25th I received this telegram (produced) addressed "Cresswell, Mitre Tavern, Greenwich, "saying," Telegraph £3 at once to Singleton Post—office. George"—I sent the billiard marker with the money, believing it was from Mr. Cresswell—I knew he had gone to Goodwood.
FRANK WRIGHT . I am billiard marker at the Mitre Hotel, Greenwich,—I remember the telegram coming, and Mrs. Cresswell, as I call her, giving me £3—I took it to the post—office, got a receipt for it, and told them what I wanted done with it.
25th July I received £3 from Wright and sent it by telegraph to Singleton, near Goodwood, at 4.23—this is it; it says:"Pay Cresswell £3," which is the authority to the post—office at Singleton to pay it.
HENRY BAGENT . I am postmaster at Singleton, near Chichester—on 28th July, after four o'clock, I received this telegram, and someone, who to the best of my belief was the prisoner Butler, called about 6.20 and said, "Are there any letters or wires in the name of Cresswell?" and said he expected money—I asked him who sent it, and with very slight hesitation he said, "F. Cresswell"—I handed him this sheet and he signed it (Signed, "Cresvell")—I gave him three sovereigns—some body had asked for letters in the name of Creswell earlier, but I do not remember who—on 26th October I picked out Butler from about a dozen others at Edmonton Police—court—I am well acquainted with Marden by his coming to my office during Goodwood week for letters and telegrams.
Cross-examined. There is a good rush of business at Singleton Post-office during Goodwood week—this money was obtained just as the rush occurred, just as the race was over, but there was no particular rush at my office at that time—I may have said at the Police—court, "It was during such a rush that the money was paid"—there always is a rush on race—days after the race is over, and I was very' busy—I said at the Police—court, "I won't swear he is the man"—there was nothing to attract my attention particularly—I may have seen Butler coming into the ordinary post—office and got to know his face—Marden came in several times a day for his. letters, during the. four or five days of the races—he got his letters and sent his telegrams in the name of Marden.
WILLIAM BALL . I live at Southend, and was formerly a licensed victualler—in July, 1893, I was living at Oakwood, Tottenham, and on July 28th I went to Goodwood Races—the prisoners came up to me about 1 30, and Marden, whom I knew, said, "Hulloa, Mr. Ball, are you here?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Are you still living at Oakwood, Tottenham?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Are you doing anything to—day?"—I said, "No, I never bet"—he said, "Oh, we have done very well to—day; we have made £12"—a race was about to be run, and Marden went into the ring to get a tip upon it—he came back and said, "Yes, all right"—Butler gave him a £5 note to put on a horse—Marden said, "Won't you have a sovereign on it?"—I said, "No"—just before the race he said, "You had better have a sovereign on"—I said, "I have not got one"—he said, "Never mind, Butler will lend you a sovereign"—Butler gave one to Marden, and after the race he came and said, "We are unfortunate"—I take no interest in races, and I did not know the name of a horse—we each shook hands—Marden went back into the ring, and Butler started to go across the fields, saying that he was staying with a relative, and that was his nearest way home—that was between three and four o'clock—I remained on the course till about six o'clock, and then went by omnibus to Chichester—I saw Marden on the way; I am not positive as to Butler, but I believe it was him—they were coming in a direction from Chichester—on returning to Tottenham that evening my wife told me something, and I wrote to the post—office at Chichester—on 16th October I obtained a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—in the interval Butler called at my house for the sovereign I had lent him—that was about five
weeks after Goodwood—I said I was not prepared to pay him, and he would hear further of it—he said nothing; he was not in the house four minutes—I received this post—card, dated August 3rd, at my address—I took no notice of it, and it was some weeks afterwards that Butler called on me—I sent no telegram to my wife from Goodwood on the 28th, nor did I receive £5 at the post-office, or authorise anybody to collect it—I know nothing of this telegram and receipt for £5—I went with two gentlemen that day, but I did not speak to any stranger except the two prisoners.
Cross-examined. My memory is always good—I told the Magistrate I had not seen either of the men between seeing them at Goodwood and seeing them at the Court—I had forgotten that Butler had called on me—I apologised to the Magistrate—I think you reminded me of what I had sworn—I cannot remember that I made any other error—I left my public—house because I wanted to sell it at a profit—I was not obliged to get out of the place because my license was endorsed—I did not see a man named Wood at Goodwood, nor do I know one—no one else was nearer than twelve or fourteen yards when I was talking to the prisoners, because I isolated myself from the crowd—nobody spoke to me then except the two prisoners.
EMMA BALL . I am the wife of the last witness—on 8th July, a little before four o'clock, I received this telegram:"Telegraph £5 to me at the post—office, Chichester; important"—I handed £5 to my sister, who afterwards brought me this receipt from the post—office—I believed that the telegram came from my husband.
ELLEN BALL . I am the wife of Henry Ball and the sister of the last witness—on July 12th this telegram came, and my sister gave me £5—I paid it in at the post—office to be sent to Chichester, and received this receipt.
EDWARD STAINSLEY . I am a clerk in the post—office at Chichester—I produce an original telegram which was handed in at Goodwood Grand Stand on July 28th, addressed to "Ball, High Road, Tottenham," and an original telegram addressed to Cress well—they are stamped "Goodwood"—I paid £5 to a person who called at the post—office—this is the receipt, signed "W. Ball"—I believe Butler is the man—I picked him out at Edmonton from a number of others—the person to whom I paid the money would have to state from whom it came—he signed it "E. Ball" as the remitter's name.
Cross-examined. I pointed Butler out at Edmonton as a person who I thought I remembered there were a number of people with the prisoner in the courtyard—there is a great accession of business at the post-office during Goodwood week, and there is an addition to the telegraph staff—there is a rush to the telegraph office immediately a race is over, and among others Butler may have come in; I should not like to swear to him positively.
Cross-examined. My attention was called next day to the fact that there was something wrong—the man was in the office about a quarter of an hour—he remained till the message arrived.
H. BAGENT (Re-examined). I paid the £3 on July 25th, and it was not till October that I picked out the man—I had a letter from the post-master
at Chichester during the next week—Mr. Cresswell called on me next day.
ELIAS BOWER (Detective Sergeant). On October 20th Sergeant Murphy and I kept observation on Butler's house, and saw him leave at 8.50 and go to the Great Eastern Railway—we followed him to Lower Edmonton in a third class carriage—on arriving at Silver Street I saw Marden—he went straight to the door where Butler was sitting, but on seeing me he turned towards the adjoining carriage, and Murphy arrested him—I said, "Is your name George Butler?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I shall take you in custody for conspiring with Marden in obtaining money from Mrs. E. Ball by false pretences"—he said, "Why, Ball owes me a sovereign, I have called at his house three times, and sent him a letter"—I took him into the waiting—room were Marden was—Marden said, "Somebody went to the post—office, drew some money, and done Ball; I should think they could swear to the man."
Cross-examined. I went into the same compartment with Marden, but not into the same carriage—he has lived in Tottenham, and Murphy is well—known there—he went into the adjoining carriage to where Marden was.
ROBERT MURPHY (Detective Sergeant.) I was with Bower—I took hold of Marden's arm—he said, "Do you want me?"—I said, "Yes," and took him into the waiting—room—Butler was brought in by Bower—I said, "What is your name?"—he said, "George Butler"—I said, "There is a warrant for your arrest for obtaining money from Emma Ball, at Goodwood Races in July; I shall take you in—custody"—he said to Marden, What does it all mean?"—Marden said, "Somebody went to the post-office and done Ball; I should think they could swear to them at the post-office"—I found some betting tickets on Marden, and saw Marden write messages on both the tickets—one is, "I mean to call at one"; the other is to a Mr. Faulkener—Marden gave his address at the station, 18, Bulwer Road, Silver Street, Edmonton—I went there, and in his room found this book containing the name of George Cresswell, Mitre Hotel, Greenwich, in blue pencil.
Cross-examined. I know Marden by sight; everybody knows me—I said, "George" as I knew him very well—he met a man as we went to the station, and said he should want bail—I said, "You had better make a note of it"—his wife pointed to the book; she did not mention the name of Wood, nor did he.
Re-examined. I have, never heard a suggestion about Wood before to—day.
WALTER DINNEY (Police Inspector). This matter was placed in my hands at the beginning of October, and on October 7th I saw both the post—office witnesses at Singleton and Chichester, and obtained from them a description of the person to whom the money was paid, and on my instructions the prisoners were arrested—when they were brought to the station I said, "I am an inspector of police; I hold a warrant against you both"—I read it to them, and said, "You will also be charged with obtaining £3 from Mr. Cresswell, of the Mitre, Greenwich, by false pretences"—Marden said, "I know nothing about it"—Butler said, "I don't know Cresswell"—I then produced the original telegrams handed in at Goodwood Grand Stand, and the two receipts for £5 and £3—
Butler said that the writing on the telegram was different from that on the order—Marden said, "I heard I was going to be arrested, and was going to the City to consult a solicitor"—on October 21st I produced the memorandum—book to Marden, and said, "This was found at your address"—he said, "Let me see it," looked at it, and said, "Yes, that is mine" I called his attention to page 1, on which the name of George Creswell is written—he said, "I used to send Creswell telegrams, and that is why his address is there; I believe he wrote that himself"—as to the page at the end of the book, he Mid, "That is not my writing; that was written by a man who used to send telegrams for me, named Wood"—I said, "Can Wood be seen?"—he said, "I don't know his address; he lives somewhere at Putney"—he also said that most of page A was his writing—I then showed him a letter to Harris in an envelope—he said, "I wrote that to Harris because somebody said I stole his pin, but I did not"—I showed this letter—card to Butler, and said, "Mr. Ball says he received this from you"—he said, "Yes, Mr. Ball owes me £1; I also called, but did not get the money."
Cross-examined. I think all the writing on page A is in the same hand—I caused inquiries to be made at Putney, but cannot find that there is such a man a Wood—we had no address—I frequently go to race meetings, and know that racing men act together, one as commission agent and the other as tout.
JAMES NAIRN (Police Inspector). I was at Tottenham Station on October 20th, and after the charge was taken Marden said, "Can I send to my wife?"—Butler asked the same, and they wrote these messages (produced) in my presence—Butler signed his; Marden did not.
THOMAS HENRY GEERING . I have made handwriting a study for some years—I have examined the documents in this case, and the two original telegrams and two receipts, also the documents which are in Butler's admitted writing, including the message from the station, and the letter card sent to Mr. Ball—the receipts for £5 and £3 signed "W. Ball" and "George Creswell" are in Butler's writing—the "Mr. Ball" on the letter—card, and "W. Ball" on the receipt are, in my opinion, in the same writing; Butler's letter to his wife, and the two messages from the Police-court, and the book, and Marden a letter to Harris, are all in the same writing as the two original telegrams; one of the telegrams is written with a blue pencil, and the writing in the memorandum—book is in blue pencil—believe the two telegrams are in the same writing.
Cross-examined. I have devoted myself to this branch of knowledge for ten years—all the documents I have alluded to are in the same writing, but no man's writing is absolutely the same all the way through—one exhibit in Marden's writing is absolutely vertical, but the others are the same as exhibit "C"—the two cards are more sloping than anything else—the letter to Mr. Harris is not so sloping as the others.
Re-examined. In the message sent to Butler's wife the "B" in the name "Ball" logins with a little curve at the top; and the signature,. "George Butler," in this paper given to the police, commences in the same way—the "W" in the word "Wife" agrees almost exactly with the "W" in "W. Ball," and the small "a" in "station" agrees with the small "a" in "Ball"—in the receipt signed "George Cress well," the capital "G" corresponds with the "G" in "Goodwood" in the letter—
Marden's writing on the first page of the book is more upright than that written at the station—it is my impression that persons writing in a memorandum—book which they hold in their hands would write more vertically—one of the telegrams is written rather more vertically than the other, but there is no other difference between them.
By the. COURT. I do not go by the general look of the writing—I compare them letter by letter, and pay attention to the up—strokes and down—strokes.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. ABINGER Prosecuted, and MR. ROOTH Defended.
JOHN SEABRIGHT . I am a carpenter, of 13, Heavytree Road, Plumstead—on Sunday, October 8th, I left home between six and 6.30, leaving no one in the house—the door was fastened with an ordinary latch—I returned a little before ten, and found the box—lock had been forced open; not opened by a key—my bedroom was in disorder, and I missed a lady's silver watch—this is it (Produced).
Cross-examined. It looked as if it had been done by a jemmy, by the marks on the door—a man could do it with his shoulder and a jemmy combined.
MARY ANN DYCEY . I live at 14, Heavytree Road, opposite the prosecutor—on Sunday evening, October 8th, I was sitting at my window, and saw the prisoner walking up and down in front of the prosecutor's house with someone else—his companion went to the house; there was no answer, and he went back and joined the prisoner—they then went to the house, and one of them forced the door open—one put his hand forward, but I could see that there was no turning of a key—they both went in and closed the door—I went next door and made a communication to someone—I did not see them come out—I afterwards went to the station, and picked the prisoner out from several others—Burwash Road is almost immediately opposite.
Cross-examined. This was between seven and 7.30 p.m.; it was dark—I had never seen the prisoner before to my knowledge—the other man was slighter than the prisoner, and a little taller, with, I think, dark hair—they walked up and down several times before they entered—there were six other men at the station in dark clothes—I was not able to see the man's features, but I have no doubt whatever that the prisoner is the man.
FREDERICK LEWIS . I am a machinist, of 40, Burwash Road, Plumstead, which is at right angles to Heavytree Road—on October 8th I was told something by a neighbour, and went into my garden; anyone could get there by jumping over a fence about 3 ft, 6 in. high—I met a constable, I looked at the top of the garden while he looked at the side, and my wife came out with a large table—lamp, and held it over where the prisoner was concealed under some steps in a crouching position, two feet from me—I asked him what he was doing there—he said he came in with the rest—no one else was there—the constable took him in custody—next day I found this watch at the spot where the prisoner was found.
Cross-examined. The watch was concealed between the wall and a post, in a place only two inches wide—persons belonging to the houses were searching, but not in my garden—I found the prisoner at 7.45;
there were seven fences to jump over to get to where he was—he could not get out into the road without coming through my house or getting over the fences—one man escaped, and Mr. Weeks' door and window next door were found open, and they had been fastened before.
GEORGE COOPER (460 R) On 8th October, about seven or 7.30, I received information, and searched the back gardens in the rear of Heavytree Road—I got over seven or eight fences, from one garden to the other, about 5 ft. high, and got into Burwash Road, and found the prisoner in the garden of No. 40, concealed between a shed and the steps leading to the back garden, raising himself from a crouching position—I asked what lie was doing there—he said, "I have come in with the rest"—there was no one else in the garden, but there were people all the way down—I took him to the station—he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. Others had been searching in different gardens, but not in this garden—it was very dark—it was about 7.40—I cannot say which way the other man escaped, but a door was found open next door and the back window, and at the rear of the wash—house there is a vine, which is almost like a ladder, and they could get up there and let them selves out in front.
By the COURT. Before I found the prisoner the wife brought a table lamp—I was not aware that the prisoner was there before that—I was two yards from him—he gave no idea of his presence—we opened the door of the shed, and he said nothing.
ROBERT WALSH (Police Inspector). I examined 14, Heavytree Road, Plumstead, on October 8th—there was a mark on the front door 11/2 inches long, where it had been forced open—I went up to the hack room and found the contents of the drawers strewed on the floor—I found marks from the garden in the direction of Burwash Road.
Cross-examined. This was clearly done with a jemmy.
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of housebreaking at Chelmsford, on November 21st, 1888, having then been previously convicted.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
73. HENRY POOR (33), and ALFRED BEARD , with other persons to the number of three or more, armed with offensive weapons, entering Sparrow Wood Farm with intent to destroy game and rabbits at night. Another Count, for unlawfully assaulting Henry John Backhouse, and occasioning him actual bodily harm.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. COLLINS Defended.
GEORGE BACKHOUSE. I am a gamekeeper to Mr. Charrington, of Wimbledon, Surrey—on 15th October, from 6.30 to eight p.m., I was in Sparrow Farm Wood with my brother, Henry John Backhouse, waiting to look for poachers—it was very dark—I heard four men come crawling across the wood, and as they got close to me I moved away, and then they jumped up all round me; one went to my right, one to my left, and the other two through the hedge—I went after Beard and caught him;
I knew him and I let him go—my brother went after another—I went to see if I could see any strangers, and I came across my brother with his head bleeding just outside the wood in the field—he had no one in his. custody; I don't think he knew what he was doing just at the time—Mr. Radmore had got Poor in custody—I afterwards searched that wood, and I found thirty—four dead rabbits on the spot where the men jumped up—I found fifteen more dead rabbits on the other side of the Wood covered up with leaves and dirt—I also found a spade and signs of digging out the rabbits—I should think nine or ten yards was turned upside down.
Cross-examined. Mr. Charrington has the right of shooting; it is not his land—Beard ran about 150 yards before I caught him—I did not have hold of him; I just went near him, and lot him go.
Re-examined. I am quite certain Beard is the man; I saw him the same day.
HENRY JOHN BACKHOUSE . I am an assistant to Mr. Charrington—I live at Cuddington—on 15th October last I was with my brother in Sparrow Farm Wood from 6.30 till eight—when my brother ran after one man I ran after Poor—just before I got to him he turned round and said he would b——well kill me, and he struck at me with this stick more than once—my head was cut open with a severe blow, which caused me great pain—I warded off a second blow with my arm—I hit him with my stack and knocked him down in self—defence—Mr. Radmore came up almost immediately after to help me, and took*me to Mr. Pennington's public-house, not far off, and bathed my wounds—this stick was afterwards found on the ground.
Cross-examined. I could not say if this stick is part of a chimneysweeper's broom—the brass rim is part of the fastening—he ran about forty yards before I caught him—when I came up I told him to stop, and he—turned and said he would kill me—I did not strike him until he had struck me twice—I then struck him on the side of the head, and knocked him down, his head was cut open—I did not strike him again with my stick; when he got up I hit him with my fist in the mouth—I only hit him twice—I don't know if Mr. Radmore hit him—he was taken to the Police—station, not to a doctor—I was taken to see a doctor.
THOMAS RADMORE . I live at Worcester Park Farm, Cuddington—between 7.30 and eight p.m. on 15th October I was outside Sparrow Wood Farm—about eight I heard a whistle—I went along the top of the wood and saw three men running—I then saw Poor striking at the last witness with this stick, which I took from him—by the time I got up Poor was on the ground—I gave him into Pentlow's custody, and went to the station with him—I took John Backhouse to a public—house, as he was half faint, and then to the doctor's to have his head stitched—I don't think Poor was in a fainting condition—I was present when thirty—four rabbits were found.
Cross-examined. I saw Poor hitting at Backhouse—I should think I saw Backhouse hit Poor once, but it was so quick I did not see how many times he was hit—when he got on his legs, and was hitting at Backhouse again, I hit him once with a walking—stick—I cannot say where I hit him—I did not knock him down—other people came up afterwards.
was on duty in Worcester Park when Mr. Radmore called me, and I went and took Poor in the custody—I took him to the station—he had some wounds—I sent for the divisional surgeon, who dressed them—Poor was then charged; he made no answer—I searched him, and found this sack—I found Henry John Backhouse at the doctor's; he had a severe scalp wound—Beard was arrested a few days afterwards by Hammond, who is ill—I saw him yesterday; he is in bed very ill, and in my opinion not able to travel—the doctor gave me his certificate this morning.
Cross-examined. Poor had two wounds at the side of his head—I saw no other marks, nor did he complain of being knocked about elsewhere.
NOT GUILTY .
75. WILLIAM THOMAS GARDNER (19) , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, a post letter, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster—General.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.
76. ERNEST JOHN DRYSDALE (28) , to forging and uttering postal orders; also to forging and uttering an order for £6;also an order for 30s.; also to stealing an oil stove and a mincing machine;also to stealing a concertina, the property of Francis Champney Burnham, having been convicted at Edinburgh on July 4th, 1887.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude.
77. WILLIAM HEAP (27) , to being found by night with housebreaking implements; also to being in the dwelling-house of Charles Farebrother, and stealing a coat and other articles, his property.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
WILLIAMS PLEADED GUILTY .
WILLIAM COBLEY . I keep the Commercial Hotel, Herne Hill—on 17th October I saw my son close the place—I left all the doors locked, and from 6s. to 7s. in bronze in the till, and in the cash drawer a bag of farthings to the same amount, and a little silver Australian coin—I went to bed at 12.45, and my son called me at 7.45—I went down and found the cash drawer open, and all the copper taken, and the bag of farthings, also—this is the Australian coin (Produced)—the fanlight of the back door was broken—the prisoners have frequently been there; I saw them there between eleven and twelve that night.
ERNEST WILLIAM COBLEY . I am a son of the last witness—on 17th October I went to bed about 12.45, after fastening up the house in con—junction with my dad—I came down about 7.40 a.m., and found the place in disorder, and a glass had been used for port wine—I saw the prisoners in the bar the night before.
CHARLES ENGLISH . I live at 103, Dolly's Road, Herne Hill—the back I of my mother's house overlooks 230, Weldon Roadi, it is eight houses I down—on October 18th, about six a.m., I was about to get up, and heard I someone talking in the back garden—I went to the window, and saw Tucker on the wall—I took him to be a workman—I put on my clothes and in about two minutes I looked again and he had shifted his position, I
and was talking to somebody over the wall—the police communicated with me—I went to the station next day and pointed out Tucker from nine others—I have not the slightest doubt about him.
FRANK SYKES (Detective Officer). On October 19th I arrested Tucker going into his house—I said I should take him for burglary, with Williams, on Tuesday night—he said, "All right; I can go through it"—I took him to the station, and took from him these two keys, one of which opened a box, in which I found twenty farthings and this small Australian coin—I took them to the station and showed them to him—he said, "Yes, I picked them up this morning"—Caroline Tucker saw me find them in this box (produced), which was locked up in a large box.
Witness for Tucker.
CAROLINE TUCKER . I am the prisoner's sister—I go out charing—my brother had some coins which he kept in this box on the mantelpiece—I do not know whether it had a hole in it or not—the police found some farthings—he keeps them in this box, not in a drawer—one of the old farthings in the box belongs to me; it is of the reign of George III.—on May 20th we were about moving, and I came across this box and looked to see what was in it—there were several farthings and several old ones; I am not sure of the dates—I spoke about them before the Magistrate, and was told they were stolen.
Cross-examined. My brother is a surgical instrument maker, over the bridge—he had not been at work for a fortnight—he earns 25s. or 30s. a week—he comes home sometimes at nine and sometimes at ten, but one night last month he came home, and I said, "It must be three o'clock"—he said, no, it was only two—it was a pouring wet night, and I was very cross with him for being so late—one of the farthings had a very rough edge—I always let him in at night, because my aged mother cannot get downstairs.
By the COURT. I was at the Police—court—I did not say that my brother had not been out for a fortnight previous, because I was not asked the question—I did not say, "I had to let my brother in, and he was not out on any day."
Tucker's Defence., It was raining very hard that afternoon, said Williams and I went to the Royal Oak, and then to the Sun Beerhouse, and played at dominoes till 11.30, when I wished him good—night I went to another public—house, and stayed there till 12.30, and walked home. I was at home by 1.30. I did not say I found the coins, I said I found the little silver coin in Stockwell Road three years ago.
TUCKER— GUILTY *†— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. Sentence on WILLIAMS†— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. GRAIN and KERSHAW, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against EMILY HARVEY.
NOT GUILTY .
Motion, of St. Catherine's, Crefe Common—we left our house, leaving the front door safe—we received information on the following Monday, and returned on September 26th, and found a mark on the door and the washhouse window broken—the place had been ransacked—we missed knives, forks and spoons, value £2 10s.—these articles (Produced) are ours—the back kitchen window had been cut about, but they did not get it open.
WILLIAM EARNACKER . I live in Crefe Road—I heard that this house had been broken into—I saw the prisoners in the road the night previous talking together; they were at the junction of three roads—I saw their full faces.
ALBERT HUNT . I live at Crefe Road, next door to the prosecutor—I heard a noise about 5.30 as of pulling drawers, and got up and pulled up the blind, which made a good deal of noise—I heard nothing more next door, and next morning I went to the house and found it had been broken open.
ELIZA JOHNSON . I am married, and keep a little shop at 109, South Street, Wandsworth—the prisoners live in the same street—on October 2nd, between twelve and one, I bought these knives and this spoon of the female prisoner for 5s.—I did not know the value of them.
WALTER HOPKINS (Detective Officer). On 17th October, at seven a.m., I went to 32, Edwards Place, Garrett Lane, Wandsworth, a quarter of a mile from the prosecutor's house, and saw the male prisoner—I said, "Harvey," I shall take you in custody for committing a burglary in Wimbledon—he said, "I know nothing about any burglary; if that is all, I can soon put myself straight"—another detective was with me—the female prisoner was in the room.
JOHN WINDZAR (Detective V). I went with Hopkins to 32, Edward's Place—the male prisoner was taken to the station, and I said, "You will be charged with housebreaking"—he said, "I don't know anything about it "—I said, "Your wife says you gave her these knives, and told her you bought them to get a shilling out of them"—he said, "That is quite right."
SUSAN CANNON . I live at 32, Edward's Place, Wandsworth—on Sunday, October 1st, the female prisoner was in my room—they occupy a room in my house—I did not see anything more of her after that—I saw the male prisoner when he went out, and heard him come in about 11.25—he was not carrying anything then—none of my lodgers can get out without my knowledge—neither of the prisoners wanted to go out in the evening—the male prisoner goes out selling fruit and greengrocery—he is not a dealer in cutlery.
Henry Harvey, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that he bought the articles of a man in the street for 4s., and took them home to his wife.
H. HARVEY— GUILTY .
He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Guildford on March 1st, 1893.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 11,TH DECEMBER, 1893.