CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
THIRD SESSION, HELD JANUARY 8TH, 1894.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
AND CASES COMMITTED UNDER THE WINTER ASSIZE ACT AND ORDERS IN COUNCIL,
Held on Monday, February 8th, 1894, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. GEORGE ROBERT TYLER, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT , Knt., Alderman of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , Q.C., M.P., K.C.M.G., Recorder of the said City; EDWARD HART , Esq., Lieut.-Col. HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., MARCUS SAMUEL , Esq., J NO. POUND , Esq., and WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR , Esq., Alderman of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
TYLER, MAYOR. THIRD SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT, Monday, January 8th, and
NEW COURT, Tuesday, January 9th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. CHAS. MATHEWS and MALONEY Prosecuted; MESSRS. DICKENS, Q. C., HORACE AVORY, and COOPER WILLIS Defended.
ALBERT BROCKLESBY . I am a clerk in the central office on the Royal Courts of Justice—I produce the writ, the summons, and the judgment in the action of Osborn v. Beeman and Co. for £600 on a bill of exchange—the writ is dated 18th March, 1893—the summons is under Order 14, issued on the date of the hearing, and returnable on 29th March.
CHARLES L'ENFANT . I am an officer of the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce a file of proceedings in the bankruptcy of Isaac Beeman—the petition was presented on 20th April, the receiving order on the 9th May, the adjudication was on 12th—the bankrupt was examined on 21st June, 5th July, and 2nd August—those examinations are on the file—the deficiency on the state of affairs appears to be £11, 786 15s. 10d.
CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am a shorthand writer to the Bankruptcy Court—I was present at the Bankruptcy Court on the three days of the prisoner's examination—I took notes of his evidence, and produce a transcript of my notes. (Portions of this transcript were read both by MR. MATHEWS and MR. DICKENS).
JOSEPH JOHN WILLINGTON . I am assistant to Mr. Drewitt, a stationer in the Borough—we supplied this journal and this cash book to the prisoner; they are charged in our day book on March 24th, 1893—when we sold them there was a label inside the cover of each showing our name, the date when sold, and the stock number; those labels are not there now, but I can see an impression on the cover of each showing where the labels have been; I can read the impression of our name—the cash book was returned to us to be paged—the prisoner had dealt with us for many years—in May, 1884, this ledger was made to his order—these entries in our day book are in the writing of Francis Low; my employer—our account books are manufactured to stock numbers.
Cross-examined. We have supplied the prisoner with all his books for many years past—this book was made specially for him—it is endorsed "Merchants"—the label is here and anyone could at once see it came from us—I say it was purchased on 24th March, because it is entered to the prisoner's account in our day book on that date; so that I could tell apart from the label when it was made.
Re-examined. These two books were old stock which had been on our shelves for twelve years, perhaps, and we had no other books like them in our place—the label is put on in order that the customer may quote the number, and we repeat the order—in referring back to the number we should get the date of the sale—both labels are removed, but the particulars remain—I noticed in this book when I sold it a small perforation—our labels are fixed in firmly with mucilage, and it wants some trouble to get them off.
GEORGE WILEY . In March, 1893, I was employed by the prisoner as warehouseman—the warehouse was at 204, Bermondsey Street, and the office at 44, Borough High Street—towards the end of March there was a change in the business, and I became servant to Mr. Isaac Beeman, junior, the prisoner's son—about 20th or 24th March, some days before the business was changed, I received instructions from Mr. Springett—after that a warehouseman, Franklin, brought a number of books to the warehouse, and in consequence of my instructions from Springett I burnt the books in the warehouse yard—they were business books connected with Isaac Beeman senior's business—I did not look inside any of the books and cannot tell what they were—I had been in the prisoner's service since 1872, for twenty-one years—this was the first occasion I had ever destroyed books.
Cross-examined. It was the course of business to have all filled-up books sent down to the warehouse—these were sent to the warehouse—I don't know if they were on the shelf of the office before that—Franklin, the second warehouseman, who brought part of the books down, would not know what books they were—they were tied up in a parcel when they were brought to me—I said to the Magistrate, "I saw the books sent down in March were full up"—that was a mistake, I did not look inside the books at all.
Re-examined. I should say I destroyed about seven books in all—I never had any orders to destroy any other books.
THOMAS ASSHENDEN . I am a hop grower, living at 29, High Street, Canterbury—the prisoner used to sell hops for me on commission—he had done so for some years—in October, 1892, I sent him samples—the bulk of thirty-nine pockets of hops were sent after the sale—I received this letter from him. (Stating an offer he had received)—I was unwilling to sell at the price he offered—I communicated with the prisoner, and I received this letter from him of October 20th, offering an improved price—I answered that, and received this letter of 24th. (Stating that the market teas much quieter, and he thought the fast offer should be accepted)—that referred to the offer in the letter of the 20th—next morning I telegraphed to him—on 25th I received another letter from him, and then on the 28th I received this advice note. (This gave details of the price fetched by each pocket, charges for commission, &c., showing a total of £361 13s., less £17 19s. 6d. for charges and commission, and enclosing a cheque for
£343 14s. 6d.)—the name of the purchaser of my hops does not appear, and I did not know, and was never told to whom they were sold—I believed the, £343 14s. 6d. was the full price at which they had been sold—I did not know the prisoner was the buyer.
Cross-examined. I never asked who was the buyer—I have not dealt with other factors besides the prisoner; I have dealt with merchants directly—I have dealt with the prisoner for some years—I never take the samples up myself—I watch the market prices which are advertised in the daily papers day by day—I go to Canterbury Market occasionally, and know what the market price is there—hops go up and down very rapidly—I do not instruct my factor to sell at once when I think the market price is favourable; I have other business to attend to—I don't follow hop growing much myself.
Re-examined. I leave my agent to do the best he can for me—I used to see the prisoner from time, to time—he has never told me he bought my hops himself.
GEORGE HANBURY . I am a hop merchant, and a member of the firm of Woodfield and Hanbury, of 25, Mark Lane, in the City—on 26th October I bought from the prisoner the thirty-nine pockets mentioned in this contract note sent to Asshenden, at £6 per cwt.; this is the invoice at that price, which works out at £373 14s.—I paid the prisoner that sum to be devoted to the purchase—on 6th October I made another purchase from the prisoner; I then bought nineteen pockets—on 13th October I bought fifty-one pockets; those two lots were invoiced together, and worked out at £401 1s.—I sent a cheque for that amount to the prisoner—I speak from this invoice; I may not have been there on the day the cheque was sent—the invoice shows the date the hops were paid for; they are taken from the books—I have no doubt my firm paid the amounts in this invoice—it was paid on the Saturday fortnight after the hops were sold; that is prompt payment—I did not give bills.
Cross-examined. I say the sale of 26th October was paid for on 12th November, because I see it written here, and I know the number of the cheque—we always pay prompt, unless it is a very large amount, and then we might have an arrangement to pay in a month or two—we never have running accounts—we might pay half down and half in two months—we do not, as a rule, pay interest in that case; we might make an arrangement—unless we do so, the factor does not get his balance for two months, and does not get interest for his money in that case—it is the practice for the factor to always pay the grower prompt—if we did not pay for the hops prompt the factor would not pay; I know he would not pay—it is put on the bought note as half prompt, half in two months; that is as between himself and me—I don't know anything of what there is between the factor and the grower; but I should not say that such an arrangement between them was at all uncommon.
Re-examined. Sometimes we see the growers, and they are willing to fall into it; it is with the growers that such an arrangement is usually made—I have no doubt we have had an arrangement with the prisoner, and have deferred payment—we had no such arrangement in regard to these transactions—an arrangement to defer payment is also made with the growers—the difference comes out of the factor's pocket.
have dealt with the prisoner since 1876; he has sold my hops—on October, 1892, I left with him twenty-two samples of hops to sell for me—I received on October 7th this advice note, and on 22nd October this account sale, amounting to £188 9s., less charges £9 3s., and enclosing a cheque for £179 6s.—the purchaser was not mentioned in the course of the correspondence, and I did not know who he was—I thought this was the price the hops were sold for—all the knowledge I had was from this communication.
Cross-examined. I only once dealt with another factor, and that was in 1881, I believe—I always look for cash on the prompt day, and I get it about the Saturday fortnight after the advice of the sale—I expect the factor to hand over the money to me prompt for my goods—I think I have always come up with my samples—I do not then know pretty well what the market price is—we have to rely on the factor—I am a hop and fruit grower—I do not look at the Brewers' Journal to see the market price of hops—I leave it to the factor to now the price—there is a difference in the price of hops in my own parish—I have been a hop grower since 1876; I have lost money by it—I don't think we can tell much about them till we class them on the factor's board—I have not the privilege of knowing what the factor gives—I have never asked the name of the merchant—it used to be the custom to say what the hops were sold at—I expected the factor to do the best he could for me—I expect him to pay me on prompt day; it is his look-out whether he gets it from the merchant or not; he takes the risk—I never said to a factor "You must sell for me at once, otherwise I will take them out of your hands"—I do not think that would be the best way to get a good price—the market goes down as quickly as it goes up, and a few hours might make a difference of loss or profit to me—I leave it to the factor as the best judge.
Re-examined. It was once, I think, the custom for the factor to give the grower the name of the buyer—I think it has been the prisoner's custom—the factor had no authority to sell my hops for anything but prompt payment.
ERNEST WILLIAM LEMMORD . I am assistant to my father, a hop merchant of Southwark Street, Borough—on 7th October last I purchased through the prisoner twenty-two pockets of hops; this is the contract note—it gives the name of Weeks, and the price as £6 per cwt.—on 22nd October my father's cheque was sent for £196 10s. for that—this invoice is in our cashier's writing.
Cross-examined. We do not always pay prompt; sometimes we give an acceptance, but in that case we pay interest—very exceptionally we have made an agreement with the grower to pay no interest, or very exceptionally with the factor; I only remember one instance, that was with factor and grower as well—we have not done it with the factor without the grower knowing anything about it—I am not quite certain, but I cannot remember—we have paid interest in other cases.
The deposition of Henry Dungey was read as follows: "I am a hop grower, of Kent. I have done business with the defendant for many years—sixty years. The advice notes No. 14 and No. 8 produced were received by me. I never knew that the defendant was himself the purchaser of the hops referred to therein. He never told me so, as far as I
remember. I was pressing the sale of the hops very much—indeed so much so that there was a probability of my taking them, away from him if they were not sold. The letter of October 10th, 1892, was received by me.
Cross-examined. I never asked defendant to whom he had sold the hops, it is not usual for planters to ask that. I was quite satisfied with the sale of all the lots. The custom of the trade is not to remit the amount before two clear Saturdays after the advice note. I do not know whether defendant had to give his customers, the merchants, extended credit. I know I gave him a month's extension of credit.—HENRY DUNGEY."
HUGH THOMAS TENDON COLLIS . I am a hop merchant, of 27, Borough—this contract note, dated September 28th, refers to a purchase by me through the defendant of twenty pockets of hops at £6 12s. per cwt.—he sent me this invoice, in which the amount is worked out at £215 19s., which was paid by cheque on the day it was due.
Cross-examined. I have been a member of the firm twenty years—we have dealt with Beeman ever since he has been established—we had an account with him in former years—we did not deal very largely with him—I daresay we have had acceptances from him, and they have been renewed—Mr. Marsh was our manager in 1890—I cannot tell you whether we had acceptances of Beeman's for £1,500 in September; it is possible—I do not know of any arrangement with him not to have interest charged against us, but if we bought a very large lot of hops we might; we should make our terms with Mr. Beeman, but we do not expect the factor to pay the money out of his own-pocket.
Re-examined. This was a prompt cash transaction—the contract note is signed "A. S." M by Springett; No. 14 is signed "F. R."—I find 110 pockets at 84s. next, and the gross is worked out at £99 2s. 6d.—all hops are sold as a prompt transaction.
FRANCIS JOSEPH LOW . I am a stationer in the Borough, in the name of Drewitt—John Willington was in my employ—in May, 1884, I supplied Beeman with a journal; it was five quires of hand-made demy; it was a six-quire book of 556 to 560 pages.
Cross-examined. This entry was made on May 26th by Mr. Springett—the writing of the order is mine; his order was verbal, but I probably entered it the same day—I have a personal recollection of it—the entry was made after the book was completed; it is not folioed, if it was, the pages would be just half the number—in giving the number of pages I calculate the number of quires—I paged it—the order was distinct to page it.
EDWARD PEARSON . I am a hop grower of Smardon, in Kent—I have done business with Mr. Beeman two years—in September, 1892, I sent him ten pockets of hops, samples, with this letter—I afterwards received the account sale of October 1st showing a balance of £81 13s., which was sent to me by cheque—I handed all the letters to the Official Receiver—Beeman did not tell me that he had bought the hops himself.
Cross-examined. I was paid at the usual time—I do not know that Beeman was paid by an acceptance.
GEORGE MORTIMER GROSSE . I am manager to Messrs. Baker, White and Morgan, hop merchants, of London Bridge—I received from Beeman this contract note, No. 3, for ten pockets of hops to Smardon—I paid for
them by a three months' acceptance, given on September 24th, and due December 27th, interest one above bank-rate—No. 2 is a contract note given me by Beeman and Co., and who had sold me thirty pockets of hops marked B at 115s.—this is the invoice; it is for £259 15s. 6d.—there are four others paid for by the same acceptances as the other.
Cross-examined. We do a large business—we occasionally give acceptances, and sometimes cash—that is totally irrespective of when he pays the grower, but we know he ought to pay the grower on the second Saturday afterwards.
WILLIAM HENRY WACHER . I live at Canterbury—I was a grower of hops before 1892, and have been in the habit of sending hops to Beeman's for sale—I sent these samples in 1892, and twenty pockets in September, 1892, to sell for us—the amount was £262 8s. gross, received by them from the buyer—No. 7 is an account sale on October 15th of twenty pockets of hops, marked "Taylor's," sold under the same circumstances—the amount returned to me was £214 17s.—No. 11, October 22nd, is an account sale of thirty-nine pockets "B" sent to me by Beeman for sale under the same circumstances—the total returned to me is £383 12s. 6d., from which he would deduct his usual commission—he never informed me that he was buying those hops himself, or who had bought them.
Cross-examined. I got paid at the usual time on each occasion.
JOHN NORWOOD . I am one of the firm of Wigans and Cosier, hop merchants, of the Borough—in contract note No. 7 the first item is sixteen pockets of hops, marked "Taylor," £7 10s.—the next is October 4th, three pockets, Taylor, at £7 10s. and one at £6—I have the invoices of them, showing that £182 12s. was paid for the sixteen pockets, and £39 18s. for the four—I paid those amounts to Mr. Beeman, cash.
Cross-examined. Merchants do not sometimes pay the contractor directly—I am in a very large business—it is the practice of smaller men to give acceptances to the factor, and sometimes to give credit—I should say certainly not without interest—they pay interest from the prompt.
Re-examined. Customers can always know the buyer's name if they ask the factor—a factor would most assuredly tell the grower—I was a factor from 1875 to 1879—I have never known a practice of factors charging an extra commission on the ground that they might have to find the money on the prompt day—it is the buyer's duty to tell his grower.
EGERTON SPENCER GREY . I am Assistant Official Receiver at the Bankruptcy Court—I have studied accounts—I am a member of the Bar—Beeman's bankruptcy came to me in the ordinary course—I had charge of it, and have got all the books—they are in the same condition as when they were handed to me—there are about three hundredweight of them—they show that he was insolvent from year to year—I examined them before 21st June, but have not been able to trace the transactions spoken to in Court to-day and yesterday, or the mode in which he did his business—some books were wanting, and I required the production of the journal—I examined him in the Bankruptcy Court on June 21st, and inquired whether there was a day book and journal—I believe he referred to the collecting book—that was the first intimation I had of a collecting book—I put questions to him as to where he got the materials to make up the ledger—Beeman sent me this collecting book (produced)
after his first examination—I find no trace of it among the books; it is not part of a set of books—after his examination on 21st June, I received this letter from him. (Stating that he had given up all his books, except some which had been destroyed)—some memorandum books and cancelled counterfoil cheques came with that letter and the collecting book—there is no book to enable me to trace goods from the vendor to the purchaser—I communicated with the merchants and growers, and received from them the advice notes and contracts sent to them—on July 5th, in answer to a question of the Senior Official Receiver as to why he destroyed the books, he said there was no further use for them, and it was not pleasant to have old books overlooked—I sent him a requisition for a commission account of ail transactions on commission in 1892, and there has been a second requisition since that which I think extended the period to October—I got this answer to the letter of July 31st. (This enclosed an account of all sales in 1892 up to the receiving order, and explained the practice of the trade in selling hops.—Signed, ISAAC BEEMAN)—this is the account which he filed—the cases before the Court are cases in which he says "Taken into account by Beeman"—he does not give the name of the purchaser, but represents that Beeman and Co. are the purchasers—it was before I received that account that I communicated with the merchants and growers—the price per cwt. at which they were sold to the grower is given in the account, but not the price at which they were sold to the merchant; no book showing that has come into my possession, and it is not specified in any transaction—on August 2nd there was a further examination which I took, and put questions on the original contracts from the merchants which I had in my hand—I find entries of Pearson in the growers' ledger—the total price given here is £88—at the end of 1892 I find "Extra commission, differences, etc, £347 3s.," and commission is charged in addition to that in different items—in 1891 here is a similar entry, "Commission, difference, etc, £786 14s. 6d.,"and in 1890 £2,097 3s. 4d., and commission is also charged—in 1889 there is entered "Extra commission and differences, £3,070 7s. 6d."—that is a very big year—commission is also charged that year—in 1888 here is "Extra commission, weight, etc., £2,250 4s.,"and in 1887 £1,601 8s.—in 1886 here £1,460 2s. in the same place, but there is nothing against it—in 1885 here is "Extra commission, profits, etc., £6,087 18s.,"and commission is also charged—in 1884 here is "Extra commission, profits, etc., £1,804 8s. 9d,"and in 1883, £2,093 19s.—in Asshenden's account, folio 264, 12th November, 1891, here is a credit of twenty-eight pockets—that is posted into the book from another book—the name of the merchant who bought it does not appear—that book only contains the growers' names, not the merchants'—turning to Pearson's account in the ledger, page 420, under date of October 1st, there is a credit of ten pockets carried out, £81s. 13s., posted folio 360—that does not show what book that is contained in; it is not in any book that has been handed to me—I find in the ledger two posting folios, 360 and 297; those are the same folios as in the growers' account—I find the name of Thomas Asshenden in the account sales book, folio 86, 28, Stern Street, Surrey, posted £361 12s. 7d.; after deducting commission and insurance, £343 13s. 6d., that is the net amount; the posting folios are 268 and 306—there are two references to books which have been destroyed, both in pencil—the
account sales book extends from September, 1890, to February, 1893, and covers transactions within that period—I have got the collecting book here extending from October, 1891, to February, 1893, and the merchants' ledger commencing January, 1891—there is no merchants' ledger prior to that, and no collecting book—there is an account sales book prior to that date—from first to last I have not found in the books any trace of duplicates of contracts or contracts, nor any counterfoils or traces of them.
By the COURT. I have seen the way the defendant kept his journal, and by that I can find who the hops were sold to, and the price of the sale; but I can do it without that.
Cross-examined. You cannot get the same information from the growers' ledger and the merchants' ledger that you can from the journal—the first entry in the journal is "Wood, Field, and Hanbury, to hops 413 pockets; Durgan, £128 1s. 6d."—you would get the same information by looking at the two ledgers if you had the account sales book—he would only put the net amount in the growers' ledger, but in the ledger you would see the whole transaction—the growers' ledger, the merchants' ledger, and the account sales would give the same information as the journal; but the price per cwt. is in no book—if I knew where to look for the particulars and knew the name of the purchaser, I could trace out the full particulars of any one transaction by going through the books—the only difficulty I had was to connect the merchant with the grower—the names of the merchant and the buyer are brought into direct contact in the collecting book, but among growers it generally runs in families, and it might be Henry Durgan or John Durgan—the growers' ledger goes from 1858—when there is a sale the contract would be posted through the journal—"Pearson, £81 13s., October 1st, 1892," is the net amount after deducting commission—in the account sales book, folio 74, here is, "Hops per rail, sold for Pearson, £81 13s."—in the collecting book on October 1st here is "Baker, White, and Morgan, to account rendered, £88 9s. 6d.;"that is a memo made to assist the collector's memory; he had to collect that amount from them, and I should draw the inference that he was to collect it from them for Pearson, but it might possibly be an accommodation bill—I do not suggest that—this is not a book of account, or a book which anybody examining a bankrupt's accounts would take in his hands at all—it is very unusual not to post from the day book to the ledger—the difficulty I had was to indentify the merchants—he came to my office and had access to the books, and I saw him once in the record room going through the books; they never went out of my possession—these extra commissions do not occur in the profit and loss account for last year, but it shows an entry for commission £1,293 13s. 4d.
Re-examined. I have not found any commission account in the bankrupt's books, or any details anywhere of these large items for additional commission and differences—the merchants' ledger does not contain an index of the growers' names—to find out Pearson's name I should have to search through every page and every item, and then there would be no Christian name—I can only go by the entries, and for aught I know there might be commission to be paid by the buyer—a day book is often used for a journal; it is ruled as a cash book—the first entry gives the name of the buyer and the seller—in the posting of the hop account there is no reference to the account sales book.
By the COURT. When I came to look at the accounts I had the new
journal before me—I have had considerable experience in investigating accounts—I find great difficulty in tracing any of these transactions, and I communicated with the merchants and growers, and got the details from them—I could find it out from the books if I had the connecting link, and if I had had the counterfoil of the original contract, by comparing it with the sales I should have found out the price.
ALFRED SPRINGETT . I was managing clerk to the defendant till he ceased business in March, 1893, and since then I remained in the same office until November in the employ of his son, who is now carrying on the business—I have been with Mr. Beeman about thirty years—I kept all the books except the cash book and some minor books—he would receive samples from the growers, and try and sell them—when he sold them he or I wrote out a contract note, and handed it to the merchant—they were torn out of a counterfoil book, and I kept the duplicates in the office—I believe the duplicates up to January, 1893, have all been destroyed—when a contract was made I posted the contract note into the ay book from she counterfoil—the day book would give the pockets, and the name of the buyer, and the grower, and the price—the duplicate contract would sometimes be marked with the folio of the day book, where it would be found, but not always—the journal had nothing to do with the contract note—after that I advised the grower—it would be posted from the day book to the journal—after the advice note was sent to the growers the hops would come up to our warehouse and would be weighed—the grower does not attend the weighing as a rule—the day of payment would be the second Saturday after the contract—when we are ready to send the money to the grower we send him an account sale—folio 74 contains an entry of the account sales—this 360 refers to the journal and 297 to the day book—the account gale book only shows what is returned to the grower—the day book shows, the merchant's name, and the price paid to the grower in the book destroyed—I believe a merchants' ledger was destroyed coming up to December, 1891, and a letter book and a collecting book and other books, but I was not present—the journal was sent down to the warehouse—the day book was sent down a month before—I made the entries in the day book, and continued to use the old one till I got the new one—in the account sales book the last entry, 371, refers to the journal on December 10th, 1892—the old journal was paged—there are hardly any transactions after December 10th, there is one on December 25th—the reference to the last page of the day book which is destroyed is November 19th, 1892, folio 308; the day book contained about that quantity of folios—the first entry in the new book is January 11th, 1893; that was made some time after the book was bought—I purchased it some time in February from Messrs. Drewitt and Co; it was before Hubbard's writ came to the office—I do not know the date when I bought the books; I am not prepared to say that I did not buy them at the end of March last year—I recollect sending one of them back to be paged—I copied the entries from the day book; the first entry was taken from the old book—this mark inside the cover is that of a bookseller's label, which I believe was on it when I got it, and I removed it at Mr. Beeman's suggestion—he did not assign any reason—that was soon after the books were bought—when I had copied the old books they were sent to the
warehouse at Mr. Beeman's suggestion—in the big ledger at the end of the balance for December, 1892, here is "Extra commission and difference, £347," that was posted from the journal which is destroyed—the differences are between the price paid to the grower and the price obtained from the merchant—the details are not kept in any book; they would not be found in the journal, but the facts would be in the journal and day book—the contract made on October 26th is for the whole lump at one price—I wrote this advice sale at Beeman's suggestion—I was not in the saleroom when they were sold—I said before the Magistrate that varying the price would make it look like a better market transaction.
Cross-examined. What Beeman said was: "If you don't want the books any more they might as well be destroyed"—growers came to the office to press him to sell—the prices vary very much, and they are quoted in different papers—the growers discuss the price in the market when they bring the samples up, and if they do not sell promptly they will take it out of the agent's hands—I remember eight pockets of hops to Mr. Stuttle, the grower, being sold on October 22nd, 1892; they were taken over at £6 3s. on the joint account of the prisoner and Mr. Husband, and were sold by them at £6 per cwt. on 22nd October the same year, which was a loss of 3s. per cwt.—the eighty pockets realised £768 188., therefore, apart from the ordinary charges, there was the difference between £779 11s. and the £768 actually realised; there was a loss on that transaction—in these transactions he ran a risk of winning or losing, according to the market value—it is the almost invariable practice to pay prompt on the second Saturday after the sale—it some times happened that he had to take acceptances—that was at nearly the same rate as the bank charges him—hose bills were sometimes renewed even in cases where he had to pay prompt to the grower—in December, 1890, Messrs. Collett gave an acceptance which bore no interest—that would appear in the old ledger—it is usual in the trade that credit is given for a short time without any charge—he takes the interest and he loses the risk—the defendant did not communicate that fact to the grower—the growers expect their money down—the merchants' ledger went down to November, 1890, and the balances from it were carried into the new one—the ledger was full—from that time downwards every transaction between the defendant and the merchants appears in the ledger—the details of the contract sent to the merchant would be put into the journal and day book; no price would be put in the journal, but in the day book I should put the details, and the amount would be posted in the ledger—I should have the record in the ledger of what was in the day book—the growers' book goes back to 1858, and therefore the whole of the records between Mr. Beeman and the planters appear in the books—they only show the net amount, but in the other books the original prices appear—the collecting books are kept some considerable time, and then the merchants' and the planters' names are brought together—the same entry which appears in the day book would appear in the ledger—the ledger which is in existence would show the same as the journal, but it would not show the entries to the merchants—that would be in the merchants' book-Baker, White, and Morgan were dealing with Mr. Beeman, and if you look at the merchants' ledger, you will find the complete transaction, and
would find the name of Pearson—I should then turn to the growers' book; she only difference would be that in one book would be the date of the sale, and in the other the date of the prompt—all the dates in the growers' book are on Saturdays, the second Saturday being the prompt—from the merchants' ledger, the growers' ledger, and the account sales book I can trice the whole particulars of any transaction, and the collecting book would show where I could find the names of any people brought together.
Re-examined. In Asshenden's case there was a sale of hops on October 26th—that transaction gave the price per cwt.—I find that in the collecting book the entry is "November 4th, thirty-nine pockets, Asshenden, £374 14s."—the price per cwt. is not given—I cannot tell it from any of the books preserved—I should not read the collecting book through to find the name of Asshenden; I should refer to the date—I find Dungey's name in the ledger by turning over two pages; it is not Henry Dungey—there are a great many Dungeys growers in Kent; we dealt with three or four, and this is Henry, I recollect—the Official Receiver would refer to Kennard's account in my book—the entry in the merchants' ledger is "October 11th, 1892, thirteen pockets, Dungey," not Henry—I only know by my own knowledge that it was Henry—there are no means for a stranger to find that out.
By the COURT. I am not aware that he has actually to get hold of the contract note from the merchant and the advice sales to arrive at it, but I have no doubt it is true—when the books were filled they were sent down to the warehouse and kept there—Wiley is the warehouseman—I have been there since 1872, and no book were destroyed till last year.
J. J. WELLINGTON (Re-examined). We had the two books in stock; one of them had to be paged, but it was done in an hour or two.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 8th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
148. THOMAS RILEY(52), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully selling fourteen counterfeit half-crowns and thirty counterfeit florins to Henry Clements; also to selling eighteen counterfeit half-crowns to John Fried-man, after three previous convictions.— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
CHARLES BYFIELD . I am barman at the Tally Ho, Kentish Town—on December 2nd I served the prisoner with some beer—he gave me this half-crown (Produced)—I looked at it, and he said, "That is all right"—I put it by itself in a corner of the till—I looked at it about a minute afterwards and found it was bad—the prisoner had gone into another compartment; I went round there, and he slipped into the coffee-room—I saw a constable in plain clothes in the bar, and showed it to him—he went into the coffee-room, and brought the prisoner out—I had given him 2s. 5d. change.
ERNEST TURNHAM . I am landlord of the Tally Ho—on December 2nd I was called into the bar and shown a counterfeit half-crown—I went into the coffee-room, found the prisoner, and said, "I hear you have passed a bad half-crown"—he said he was very sorry; he had got it, and he wanted to get rid of it.
JOHN BATE (632 Y). I was in this public-house in plain clothes, and asked the prisoner where he got the coin—he said, "At a public-house in Junction Road, next to the Police-station"—there is no Police-station there within half-a mile—I had not spoken to him before Mr. Turnham came in—I searched him, but found no other bad money—he said, "I knew I had got it; I am very sorry, I wanted to get rid of it"—he gave his name, Charles Johnson, Wentworth Street, Spitalfields—I inquired, and he was not known there—I found on him two shillings, two sixpences, and sixpence-halfpenny—he was hawking studs—he was taken before a Magistrate the same day, and said, "I bought the half-crown in Kentish Town Road, and gave a shilling for it. I am very sorry; I suppose I shall get a moon for it."
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that a man offered to sell him a bad half-crown for a shilling, and as he believed it was a good one he bought it.
GUILTY .— One Month's Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
PERCY MILLER . I live at the Salvation Army Shelter, Whitechapel Road—since October I have been acting as a shoeblack outside St. Mary's Station, Whitechapel—I made the prisoners' acquaintance about November 2nd, and have seen them from time to time with a man we called Piggy—on Sunday afternoon, December 3rd, they both came up to me, and Parr said, "Here, Crutchey, I have got a couple of half-crowns, and you are a shoeblack, I know you won't have a tanner on your stand to-day; if you take these coins and change them, I will give you a tanner on each"—the coins were wrapped in paper, one on top of the other—I hesitated, but put out my hand, and received a half-crown—I said, "I am a cripple"—Parr said, "Get out with you, you have often passed them before"—Bloomfield said, "Don't be afraid"—I said, "I am going to the station to make water, and will return shortly "—that was an excuse—I went into the station, gave the coin to Richard Griffin, and made a statement to him—he broke it, and gave it back to me—I saw a constable in uniform, and told him about it and as I went up with him I saw the prisoners enter a coffee-house—I could not find them, but next day, Monday, I saw them at Woolf's coffee-shop opposite the railway station—I walked in with the policeman, and said, "These are the men, and this is the money"—Parr said, "Yes, I gave him the money"—322 H said, "Did you give this coin to the shoeblack?"—Parr said, "Yes"—the policeman searched them, and took them to the station.
Cross-examined by Parr. You told me it was counterfeit coin, and said it was given to you.
EDWARD MILLS (322 H). On December 3rd Miller made a statement to me—I went the same day to Woolf's coffee-shop, but saw no one I wanted—I went there again next day with Miller, and saw the two prisoners—he said, "Those are the two men"—I took them to the station, and charged them—Parr said that they had been mixed up with it for three or four days; Bloomfield said that he had only known them a few days; that he had been out of work for about a fortnight, and had his dinner at the coffee-shop, where they met—I received this portion of the broken half-crown from Miller.
WILLIAM THOMPSON (Detective H). On 4th December I was at the station, and as Bloomfield left the dock he said, "I want to speak to you"—I followed him to the cell—he began to cry, and said, "I was never in such a place as this before"—I said, "Where did you get the bad half-crown?"—he said, "I got it from a man named Smith at a coffee-house in Whitechapel Road next to St. Mary's Railway Station"—I said, "Do you know where Smith lives?"—he said, "In Denmark Street. Smith and a man named old Steve, with one arm, met us at Smith's house of a night. Steve don't live there; he lives somewhere the other side of the water; I don't know where; Smith takes them to the coffee-house and sells them."
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate. Parr says: "The other three were good coins; the counterfeit coins were given to me."Bloomfield says: "I say the same as Parr."
The COMMON SERJEANT considered that there was no uttering, but only the employing of Miller to utter, and left the case to the JURY as one of inciting only.
GUILTY of inciting.
PARR— One Month's Imprisonment without Hard Labour.
BLOOMFIELD— Recommended to mercy by the JURY . Discharged on recognizances.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ALBERT SPENCELEY (143 H). On December 5th I went with Sergeant Glennester to 24, Denmark Street, St. George's-in-the-East, to the first-floor front room—I knocked, and a woman said, "Who is there?"—Sergeant Glennester said, "The police"—she did not open the door, and we burst it open, and entered the room—the sergeant said he should take her in custody for having implements for making counterfeit coin in her possession, and also for uttering—she said, "We have no money here"—the sergeant then went out of the room, and she said, "I will tell you all the money I have here," and got under the bed, and produced nine counterfeit half-crowns, wrapped up in this piece of newspaper, and touching each other, only there was white powder between them—she said, "The
other things you will find, some in the drawer of the washstand, and some on the table; we should not have been in trouble if it had not been for a man named Steve, and Butcher and Woodgate"—we found in a table-drawer four pieces of copper wire, a tile, a ladle, and some silver-sand—she produced this piece of metal from under the bed; it fits the ladle, in which there are pieces of metal—she was taken to the station—she made no reply—this was at five p.m.—we remained on the premises, and at twelve a.m. the male prisoner came home, and was arrested.
WILLIAM SMITH (Police Sergeant H). I was at 24, Denmark Street, when De Cort let himself in with a latch-key, about 12.30 a.m.—Sergeant Glennester came out of the front parlour and charged him with having counterfeit coin and implements for making it, and we found is on him and 1 1/2 d.—he was charged at the station, and made no reply—the female prisoner was identified from among a lot more people.
ELIZA JAMES . I am the wife of John James, of 24, Fell Street—on December 24th the female prisoner, who I knew, came and asked me if I would mind a parcel which she had got—I said, "Yes"—I opened it and found this ladle and tools—I fastened it up Again—she gave me the parcel—I opened it, and then she showed me ten half-crowns, and put them into the parcel—she said she had been to Mrs. Watson and changed one half-crown, and had to run for her life and throw the money in a stocking over the bridge—I went to her house that evening, and saw her husband and herself in the same room—I asked her to come and take the parcel, as I should get into trouble, as it contained bad money—she said to her husband, "You go"—he said, "No; you go and bring it, and I will take it elsewhere"—Annie came to my house, and I handed it to her—she said that Steve, a one-armed man, had been making some money, and he had had seven years, and if he got into trouble it would kill him.
SARAH JONES . I live with my parents at 13, Watt Street, Wapping—three or four weeks ago I was with Jessie Gudge, and the prisoner Annie gave Gudge a half-crown, and said, "Go for me for a quarter-ounce of snuff, and I will give you a halfpenny"—J went with Gudge—she asked for the snuff, and showed a half-crown to Mrs. Callaghan's daughter—she told me to go and get change—I went to another shop, Mrs. Inchgold's, my aunt—Gudge went with me—I got the change from Martha Clare, and went back to Mrs. Callaghan's, and Gudge gave her the money, and took away the snuff—the prisoner gave us a farthing between us—I picked her out from a number of other women.
MARTHA CLARE . I live at 81, Old Gravel Lane, and assist Mrs. Inchgold in her business—a few weeks ago Jones and Gudge came, and asked for change for a half-crown—we put it in the till with other coin, but it was all small—I afterwards took it out, and showed it to my brother, who put it between his teeth, and then broke it with a poker on the hearth—I handed it to Inspector Mason—this (produced) is a piece of it on the Saturday before the prisoner Annie was taken on the Monday I saw her pass the shop and go across the road into Mrs. Watt's, the linendraper's.
Annie, who I had never seen before, came in for a pair of stockings, and gave a half-crown—I rang it on the counter three times, and she said, "Oh, it is good"—I said, "I did not say it was not, but you have to be so careful what money you take, as there is so much bad money about"—she said, "It is a good one; my father has brought it home from the works"—I gave her the change—she ran out of the shop and I kept the coin in my hand—Miss Clare came in and said something to me—I spoke to my mother and showed her the coin—I afterwards handed the coin to Inspector Mason—this is it.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these nine half-crowns are counterfeit but unfinished—this whole coin and these pieces are counterfeit, and the coin uttered at the linendraper's is from the same mould as five of the others—these articles are part of the stock in trade of a coiner, and this is a piece of molten metal.
The prisoners, in their statements before the Magistrate and in their defences, stated that Old Steve (the prisoner, Thomas Riley, see page 187) left die the things with them to mind, but they knew nothing about them, and got rid of them as soon as they could.
C. S. DE CORT— NOT GUILTY .
A. S. DE CORT— GUILTY of the uttering. Six Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, January 9th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
152. FREDERICK MAXWELL(24), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing, while , a post letter containing two orders for the payment of money; also a letter containing a postal order for ten shillings and sixpence, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
153. ARTHUR BRANT (20) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, a letter containing an order for the payment of twenty shillings, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
154. WILLIAM GEORGE MOORE(24) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to burglary in the dwelling-house of John August James Housden, and stealing a pair of sugar-tongs and a purse, his property.— Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— Four Months' Hard Labour. And
155. JOHN LACEY** (62) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing a pair of eye-glasses, the property of Henry Green, from his person, having been convicted at Clerkenwell in August, 1891.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, January 9th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
cigarettes, and gave me this half-crown, and I told her it was bad, and asked her where she got it—she said, "From a friend"—she was walking off, and I halloaed out as a policeman was standing on the point, and I gave her in charge—I gave the half-crown to the policeman.
GEORGE GIMES (46 C). On 4th December I was called to Mr. Vidal's shop—he told me the prisoner had tendered a bad half-crown—she made no reply—I charged her and took her to the station—she was taken before Mr. Newton next day and remanded till the 7th, and then till the 14th, when she was discharged—she gave her name as Alice Harris on the first occasion—I recognised her at the Police-station on the early morning of 2nd January.
AGNES PATCH . I am barmaid at the Macclesfield Arms—on New Year's night the prisoner called for a glass of ale and tendered this florin—I said, "It is bad," and placed it on the counter again—she said, "Is this good?" and directly placed down a good one, which she had in her other hand—she did not take anything from her pocket—Mr. Langhelt, who was standing at my side, had some conversation with her.
GODFREY LANGHELT . I am the landlord of the Macclesfield Arms—I was in the bar when the prisoner tendered the florin—I asked her where she got it—she would not answer—afterwards I took her outside the door and asked her, and she said some man or some gentleman had given it to her—she offered to pay for the beer with a good florin, but I would not accept it—she did not appear to be the worse for drink.
HENRY BLACK (132 C). I took the prisoner on 1st January—I asked her where she obtained the florin which was handed to me—she made no reply—I took her to the station and charged her with uttering a bad florin—she made no reply—I asked her name; she said, "I refuse to give any name"—I asked her address—later in the morning she gave her name to the inspector as Elizabeth Gould.
Cross-examined by prisoner. You had had something to drink, but was not under the influence of drink.
The prisoner in her statement before the Magistrate and in her defence said that the coin was given her by a gentleman, and that she did not know it was bad
She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of uttering counterfeit coin at this Court in December, 1892, in the name of Annie Kenny, upon which the JURY found her guilty of felony.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MR. STEWARD Prosecuted.
THOMAS ENGLISH . I live at 34, Sumley Street, Earlsfield, and am a salesman—a little after ten p.m. on 18th December I was passing through Whitcombe Street, by the side of a hoarding, when I was pounced upon by four men from behind—one man on either side tripped me up, and put me on the pavement; a third man held my feet down, and the prisoner ripped open my overcoat and took my watch and chain, and my purse from my right-hand trousers pocket—I had about 3s. in it as well as I can remember—a handkerchief was also taken from my overcoat pocket, and one from my under coat—the two men holding me at the side then let go,
and I sprang up into a sitting position, and caught the prisoner by the collar; the third man was still holding my feet—the man on my right gave me a kick on my wrist and made me let go of the prisoner, and as I turned to get up I was kicked on my left side and on my hip—I felt the kicks for several days afterwards—when the third man let go of my feet, I got up and blew a police whistle which I had; they scattered in different directions then—I ran after the prisoner, who was stopped by some passers by—I did not lose sight of him—the man on my left hurt my finger trying to get my ring off—the prisoner used no violence—I did not go to a doctor—I have not seen any of my property again—I was sober.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I am sure you are the man; I did not lose sight of you.
WALTER ATKINSON (337 C). About 10.15 p.m. on 18th December I heard a police whistle, and ran down Whitcombe Street, as far as James Street, where I saw the prisoner detained by some persons—the prosecutor, who was standing near, said he had been robbed of his watch and chain, and that the prisoner was one of the men—the prisoner said, "You have made a mistake; I am not one of the men"—he was taken to the station, where he said, "I know nothing about it"—I found nothing on him—he gave the name of Roberts, and an address at a lodging-house, but they did not know him there.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am very sorry, but there was no violence used towards the prosecutor. I should like the case settled here."
The prisoner', in his defence, stated that he was walking down Whitcombe Street when he was stopped and charged with the offence.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY**†to a conviction of felony in June, 1892.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
158. SUSAN MORTIMER(21), and EMILY MORTIMER(27), Stealing three brooches and other articles, the property of Harriett Evans, in her dwelling-house. Second Count, receiving the same. SUSAN MORTIMER PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. THORNS COLE Prosecuted.
SARAH HARRIETT EVANS . I have been residing at 66, Hailsham Road Kensington—on 2nd October I left certain boxes and goods there—Susan Mortimer was cook there at that time—on 9th December I returned and found my boxes ransacked and empty—I communicated with the police at once—I lost £10 or £14 as well as clothes, about £100 of goods altogether—I have recovered part of my property since; this is it—I have not seen Emily Mortimer at the house.
WALTER DREW (Detective Sergeant). On 9th December Miss Evans made a complaint and I went and saw Susan—from what she said I went to 25, Sinclair Road, and saw Emily, who had been in service there for a short time as cook—I said to her, "Is your name Emily Mortimer? I am a police officer, and have your sister Susan in custody for an extensive robbery at 66, Hailsham Road. Have you anything in your possession that does not belong to you, that she gave to you?"—she said, "Nothing whatever"—I said, "I shall be able to prove that you have frequently taken parcels out of 66, Hailsham Road; I charge you with stealing and
receiving property;" and I cautioned her in the usual way, that what she said I should take down and give in evidence—she said, "I have only a dress"—we went upstairs to her bedroom, with Miss Evans—Emily Mortimer produced this cardboard box containing this salmon-coloured dress, and said, "That is all I have"—Miss Evans identified the dress as her property, and said it was worth eight guineas—the prisoner said, "I have three years' good character, and it is not likely I should steal anything "—I made a further search, and found this silk blouse in a drawer (which Miss Evans identified), a petticoat and veil, and in a draw I found three coins and a foreign medal—Emily said, "I had forgotten them. I did say I had not got anything, but I did it to save my sister. The parcels my sister gave me I used to bring out and leave at the cloak-room at Addison Road Station. Of course I knew they were stolen, because I knew my sister could not afford to buy such expensive things. I sent the dress to my sister last week"—I went into the kitchen—I said, "Have you anything else that does not belong to you?"—she said, "Only that cloak behind the door"—it was this silk-lined cloak—I took her to the station, where I confronted her with Susan, who was then in custody on the charge of stealing these things—I said to them, "I told your sister when I arrested her that from inquiries I had made your sister constantly took parcels from 66, Hailsham Road"—Susan said, "Yes, they contained some of the property. My sister asked on one occasion where I got the things from, and I said I took them from Miss Evans' boxes, and she helped me down with other parcels after that, and I sent some away by Carter Paterson"—that statement was made in Emily's presence, who replied, "I don't remember it"—when the charge was read to Emily she made no reply—there was difficulty about searching the house then because of sickness, but I subsequently returned, when the prisoner was remanded, and although she had made repeated statements that she had nothing else, I found in the kitchen which Emily occupied a nurse's black cloak, which Miss Evans identified as hers—it had been cut at the bottom, as Emily is short and Miss Evans is tall—I also found that a flounce had been taken off this salmon-coloured dress.
ELLEN LEEKINGS . I live at the Star and Garter Hotel, Kew Bridge—I was a fellow servant with Susan at 66, Hailshan Road at one time—Emily came there almost every day, and she took several parcels away with her—when Susan came she brought one box, when she left she took two—Emily was there the day before Susan left, and saw the boxes go, and helped her down with them—Carter Paterson took the boxes away.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I know nothing of what was inside the parcels.
SARAH HARRIET EVANS (Re-examined). I make 66, Hailsham Road my London home—I am a trained registered nurse, and I stay with my friends there when I am in London, and I keep my property there—I think Susan had £16 a year and all found.
The prisoner's (Emily's) statement before the Magistrate: "I did not know they were stolen. I am not guilty."
Emily Mortimer, in her defence, stated that she had no idea the things her sister gave her were stolen, although she thought it funny.
SUSAN MORTIMER then PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a bracelet and other articles the goods of Lavinia Chapman, her mistress; and two dresses and other articles, the goods of Francis Edmund Pesse, her master. EMILY— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. SUSAN— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted.
GEORGE RUMSBY . am seaman—in December I was staying at the Sailors' Home, Wells Street, St. George's in the East—at 10.30 or 10.45 p.m. on 13th December I was in the Blakeney Head, at the corner of Cable Street, with Mygrens—Richford was there, and other people whom I did not know—Mygren had stayed with me before at the Sailors' Home, and we had got sociable, and I had lent him fifteen shillings—on this night he borrowed a half-crown of me to pay for drink—I took it from my right-hand pocket, where I had a purse containing seven pounds in gold, a five-pound note, a key and a knife—Mygren might have seen that money; I had my purse out when I lent him the fifteen shillings, and he had an opportunity of seeing it—I came out of the public-house about 11.15, and the prisoner and two others came out after me—I had only just shut the door when Mygren caught hold of me round the waist and Richford tore my trousers pocket out and got my purse, and then they went away—no other violence was used—I saw Mygren at the Sailors' Home after that and accused him of it—he never paid me back the 15s. I had lent him; he promised to do so, and then he said he would not give it to me—he said he knew who had got the money, he had not got it—I said he was worse than they were.
Cross-examined by Richford. I don't know if you knew that I had any money—I had not seen you before the night you took my purse—I next saw you a week afterwards at Leman Street Police-station, where I picked you out from six or eight others—I did not see you afterwards at the Black Horse.
FREDERICK WENSLEY (402 H). I took Mygren on 18th December in Ship Alley, from information and a description which I had received—I told him I was going to take him on a charge of robbery at the corner of Cable Street, on the 13th inst.—he said, "I was there, but I did not rob him, the others robbed him"—I took him to the Police-station; the prosecutor came and identified him at once—when I went with Inspector Pattenden to serve on him a statement as to further evidence, he said, "I did not take his money; the other man you have got here took it"—Richford did not hear that—on 23rd December I took Richford, after he had been discharged, in Mercer Street, Shadwell—he said, "What old lag is putting me away?"—at the station he made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined by Richford. You also said, "Very well. I will go to the station with you."
him, and said, "That is the man"—he said nothing in reply to the charge—Mygren was not there then.
HERMANN MYERS . I am a printer's boy, living at 54, Pearl Street, St. George's—on Wednesday, 13th December, I saw Mygren in a public-house in Shorter Street—he treated me to drink which Rumsby gave him a half-crown to pay for—after that they all went out together—I saw a crowd a little way from the public-house door; the prosecutor was against the wall with his pockets turned out—I saw Richford there—I knew him before, and I had seen him in the public-house that evening—I went back to the public-house and spoke to the landlord.
Cross-examined by Richford. I saw you standing two or three feet away; I did not see you doing anything to the man—the men had only gone out of the public-house two or three minutes when I looked out at the door of the public-house and saw the prosecutor with his pockets out.
Re-examined. The prosecutor holloaed out, "Police."
CHARLES NEWBY . I live near the Blakeney Head, and work at a greengrocer's stall—I was with Myers on 13th December in the Blakeney Head—we drank together—I saw the prisoners there—Mygren was with the prosecutor, who gave Mygren a half-crown, with which Mygren paid for three pots of ale—they came to 1s.—Mygren gave the 1s. 6d. to a man in the company—they all went outside together—I heard a noise, and looked from the door, and saw Mygren and the prosecutor—I did not hear the prosecutor call out, nor did I see Mygren doing anything to him—he came back to the public-house, and went out again—I saw Richford in the public-house, but I did not see him outside.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate.—Mygren says: "I never robbed him." Richford says: "I am quite innocent; it is a got up affair between the inspector and the constable."
Mygren in his defence stated that he never touched the prosecutor; it was Richford who took the money.
Richford stated that he knew nothing of the matter, but that he had several times seen the prosecutor with Mygren. GUILTY of robbery.
RICHFORD**†— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. MYGREN— Three Months' Hard Labour.
160. JOHN RICHARDSON(53) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for forgery and uttering endorsements on orders for the payment of money; also to embezzling £12 4s., £12 15s. 6d., and £4 11s. 6d., received by him for and on account of Charles Hubbard, his master; and to a conviction of felony in January, 1890.* The prosecutor recommended him to mercy.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
161. JAMES TURNER(60) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] to burglary in the dwelling-house of George Yeomans, and stealing certain moneys and goods; also to four other indictments for burglary and to a conviction of felony in July, 1884, at this Court.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
162. JOHN EVANS(40) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to attempting to steal money, the property of Albert Edward Staff, from a collecting box in St. Augustine's Church; also to a burglary in the dwelling-house of John Swanson, with intent to steal.— Ten Months' Hard Labour. And
163. JOHN LOCK(23) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Tappin, and stealing a watch and chain and other property, and to a conviction of felony in May, 1892.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday, January 9th and 10th, 1894.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS, HORACE AVORY, and HEWITT Prosecuted;
MR. DRUMMOND appeared for Bushy, and MR. LAWLESS for Cox.
DAVID JOHN EDWARDS . I am a carman and contractor, of 30, Eagle Street, Holborn—I have stables there adjoining the Bricklayers' Arms Public-house—on the 16th October, between eight and nine in the evening, I saw Bush going out of Eagle Street into Red lion Street; he was going away from the Bricklayers' Arms—I went with him to a public-house in Red Lion Street—he said he had lost a good bit of money at the Brick-layers' Arms, and he wanted to be moved out of there quite early in the morning, when nobody was about, and he wanted a man who could hold his tongue as to where he was going—I had previously moved some goods for him, two lots; one lot in the receding August (it was furniture)—we took one lot to a private house at Barking Creek and one lot to the Wood-man, at Greenwich—that was about nine months before, at the beginning of the year; that was also furniture—he said he would see me again about it on the Wednesday morning; that would have been the 18th—I took the furniture out of the back window into the yard—there was about a van load on each occasion—I left him about nine on the evening of the 16th—at about twenty-five minutes past twelve I was in another yard of mine near my yard, near the Bricklayers' Arms, and just afterwards I saw the house closed—I saw some lights put out, and after that I saw a light behind the bar, moving about, and I saw Alfred John Torr come out—I then went down my yard at the side of the Bricklayers' Arms, and I saw that everything was right—I went down Red Lion Street, and about ten minutes after I heard a police whistle—I then ran back, and saw smoke coming out of the door and fanlight—I burst in one of the doors in Eagle Street, leading into the bar, and went into the bar, but the smoke was too dense to go there—the bar was full of smoke, and it smelt like straw—I ran up the yard, thinking it was the yard alight—as I came back I saw Cox looking out of the back bedroom window, with a lighted candle in his hand—the window was open—I said to him, "Do you know the place is on fire?"—he said "Yes"—I said, "Where is young Bush?"—he said, "He is gone for the engine"—I said, "Wait a minute, and I will get you out," and with the assistance of a constable I got a ladder, and got him down the ladder—I saw that he was burnt about the hands and face, and his hair was singed a bit—I asked him how he managed to set the place on fire—he said, "I was going down into the cellar to see that all was right, when I slipped and fell, knocking over a half-bottle of brandy; the candle fell into it and it flared up, and in trying to extinguish the flames I got burnt"—I took the candle out of his hand—soon afterwards he was taken to the hospital by a policeman.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. It was on the Monday night I saw Bush; he then said he thought of having the furniture moved on the
Wednesday—I believe he lived at Barking—he left me about nine o'clock, and went towards Holborn, away from the Bricklayers' Arms—I did not see him any more that night.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I know the Bricklayers' Arms very well—as far as I knew Cox was the manager, and resided with his wife on the premises—his wife went away on the previous Saturday—when I moved the furniture in August I took away pretty well everything—Bush, his wife, and boy were then living there—on the night of the 16th I saw Torr being let out; that was just after closing time—somebody came to the door with a candle and let him out; I did not see any other light—my attention was not called to it at the time as extraordinary; within five or ten minutes I heard the whistle—the smoke was very thick inside when I first opened the door—the window at which I saw Cox standing was the one over the taproom window—I don't know that the shed under that window was a kind of old urinal; I don't know what it was—I think it would have been dangerous for a man of Cox's build to get out of that window—he seemed very dazed—his face was very badly burnt—he made this statement about five minutes afterwards—he was coming to a bit then, he knew what he was about—it was in the passage leading to our yard.
Re-examined. I knew that Mrs. Cox had left the premises on the Saturday—I did not see her go; I heard the remark passed that night in the street; Cox had not said anything to me about it—I never went into the house—I was not in the habit of using it—some of the tiles on the shed were gone; the rafters were there, and a good bit of the tiles—part of it had been glass, but all the glass was out.
JOSEPH HENRY BUSH , Jun. I live at 10, The Wharf, Barking—I am fourteen years of age—I am the son of the prisoner Bush—up to the time of this fire I was living at the Bricklayers' Arms—at that time my father and mother were living at Barking—father used to go down at night; he slept at Barking, but came up to the Bricklayers' Arms every day—at this time Cox was living there—he was there about three months before the fire—I remember his coming there; he did not bring in any furniture—Mrs. Cox came with him; she stayed there until a few days before the fire—when she left she took with her two cats and a canary; that was all—I generally slept in the top room front—on the night of 16th October I slept in the first floor back, over the taproom, under which there was a shed or lean-to—I slept there that night because Mr. Cox told me that two gentlemen were coming to sleep in my room that night—I went to bed between ten and eleven—as I was going up Cox said, "You go into my bed, Joe, because two gentlemen are coming to sleep in your room"—I went to bed and went to sleep—I awoke up and saw some smoke in my room, and saw Mr. Cox in the room with a lighted candle in his hand; he held his other hand like that, and was blowing it—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "All right, Jack, all right" he told me to go to bed, that I was all right—I had got out of bed and sat on the side—he went downstairs again and I went into bed—I stayed in bed about five minutes—I was awoke by Cox coining upstairs again—I got out of bed and sat on the side of it—I asked what was the matter—he said, "Nothing; go to bed, you are all right, Jack"—he stopped there till I got out of the window—I was going to get a chair to
get out of the window—I looked through the door and saw smoke coming from the passage way—I believe Cox remained in the room, I forget now—I then got out of the window—I first threw out my clothes and got on to a ledge, and went for the fire engine—Cox did not tell me to get out and go for it—he did not throw my socks and boots out of the window, I left my socks upstairs—paraffin lamps had been kept at the Bricklayers' Arms, not used; there were some kept there till about six months back, they were sold then—after that there was no paraffin, lamp in the house—on the night of the 17th I went up to bed about eleven—at that time my father was playing dominoes with a man named Kenwick—there were two others; I did not notice them—my attention was arrested by someone screaming "Fire!"—I ran up the stairs and through the bar parlour out into Edwards' yard and through the gate.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. It was Cox who told me to sleep in the other room on the night of the fire—I don't know at what time my father left the house that night, I was at work—next morning he arrived about eight—the firemen were then in charge of the house—on the night of the second fire I did not notice how many customers there were in the house; I did not see any—I only heard my father say, "Fetch some more water"—I did not see where that fire broke out—I know the recess under the staircase; spirits were kept there—there was straw there, used for Cox's dog, which used to sleep there—there were two boxes there; they had pint bottles of spirits in them wrapped in straw—I don't know what spirits they were—I think some had whisky—I never saw my father go to that cupboard after Cox had come to the house.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I had been living in the house for some time; I did not go into the cellar very often—I am not sure that there was not a small spirit lamp in the cellar used occasionally; I never noticed one—on the night of the first fire I was woke up by Cox; he was blowing on his hand; I did not notice his face at that time—he left the room and I dozed off—I was awoke by his coming in again; there was more smoke then—he did not help me out of the window—I was rather alarmed, and frightened and nervous about the fire; I will swear that he did not help me out of the window—I threw my things out; my coat, not my trousers—I forget whether I put them on in the room; I believe I threw them out—I got out in my night-shirt; I got my feet on a little shed under the window, and got down; Cox did not prevent me—he was there against the gas-pipe; his face was pretty red—I threw out my boots, and left my socks; he did not throw them out—I did not put anything on in the yard, except my trousers—I went to the Fire-station—Cox did not tell me to go there—I took the window out of its frame; he did not help me to do it; I could take it out myself—it was never properly put up—it had no rope on it, and one part of it was out—I lifted it up; he did not help me—it was an ordinary window with eight small panes of glass—I did not notice that he was very much dazed and confused—I did not know that he was going to move out of this public-house, and go to another—his wife was ill, and was going to some of her friends on the Saturday—I saw she was ill; that was reason she left, she said so herself.
Re-examined. Mrs. Cox told me she was ill—when Cox came into the room on the night of the fire he spoke all right—the window spoken of had the sash-lines broken; you can't push it up properly, it drops down—
you have to take it right out to get out—I got down the shed, and dropped—the dog was there on the 16th.
By the COURT. I last saw any bottles of spirits about a week before the fire—I have noticed small jars in the parlour; they were not in any box or anything—I don't know where they came from—there are two jars there now, empty—I never lifted them up to see whether they were full.
FRANK ROBINSON (251 E). On 17th October, about one a.m., I was called to the Bricklayers' Arms—I went up Edwards' yard, and saw Cox standing at the window of the first-floor back with a lighted candle in his hand—with Edwards' assistance we got a ladder, and got him out of the window—he was burnt about the face and hands and arms, and his hair was singed all over his head—I took him to King's College Hospital, where he was seen by a doctor—on the way there he said he had been down into the cellar to see that all was correct, and, returning back, he stumbled and dropped the lamp he was carrying, he said it was a paraffin lamp, that it exploded, and in trying to put it out he got burnt—he said he found his way upstairs, and put the boy out of the window to get some assistance.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. After we got him out of the window we took him into the street—I remained with him all the time—he did not get into a cab; he walked—I did not hear him make any statement to Edwards—if he had done so I should have heard him—on the way to the hospital I asked him how it had happened—I will pledge my oath to the exact words he used—I did not think it an important statement; I listened to what he said—he did not say that he had a spirit lamp in one hand and a bottle in the other, I swear that—I am not in the habit of taking statements orally; if I know the person is going to be charged, I trust to my memory—I paid attention to what he said; I did not think it important—it was not till a month afterwards that Sergeant Nicholls spoke to me, then I wrote it down.
By the COURT. He said he dropped the lamp he was carrying—he said it was a spirit lamp—I can hardly remember whether he said "paraffin" or not; I am not quite sure whether he said paraffin or spirit lamp, or one or the other—he said one of them; I could not say which.
FRANCIS ROBINSON (Sub-Inspector E). I have charge of the licensing business in my district, which comprises the Bricklayers' Arms—about one in the early morning of 17th October I went to the Bricklayers' Arms; I found it on fire—I saw Cox standing outside—I said to him, "Where is Bush?"—he said, "He is not in town"—I said, "Have you wired to him? If not, we will do so"—he said, "I can't tell his address"—I said, "How did this happen?"—he said, "I was going into the cellar, and broke a bottle of brandy, and then dropped the candle into it"—that was all that occurred between us at the time—smoke was then issuing from the premises, but the fire was well under; the firemen were there, and engines were in the street—on 7th September Bush was summoned to Clerkenwell Police-court for an offence against the licensing laws, for serving drink out of hours on Sunday—he was convicted, and fined 5s. and 2s. costs—he was the licensed holder—before that summons was heard Cox had given notice that he was going
to apply for a protection order with a view to the license being made over to him—he gave notice verbally, and I entered it on the usual form—the parties attended on 12th August, and Cox told me that he was going to buy the business of Bush, and Bush was going to buy the house that Cox had recently been keeping, namely, the Woodman in George Street, Greenwich—Cox afterwards said that the brewers would not grant him the loan, and Bush subsequently sought my advice in respect to Cox being allowed to hold the license—I said after what had passed at the Police-court I thought Cox would be allowed to hold it.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. I heard that there was some negotiation in progress between Bush and Cox for the transfer of the license—I made inquiries about Cox, as he was the incoming tenant, not about Bush, as he was the outgoing tenant; inquiries would have been made when he came in.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Cox had been previously the holder of a licensed house—the negotiations about the transfer were before Bush's conviction; my advice was asked afterwards, and I said there was not a chance of consent—when Cox was giving his explanation of the fire, I did not see Police-constable Robinson there; he might have been there, there were several police there; Cox may have re-entered the house; the fire was well under—I did not see him go in—when he came up, Police-constable Robinson was not with him; he was standing at the door of the house—I could not say whether Robinson was standing with him—this was in the middle of the night, and a mob of people—I don't know whether Edwards was there; I did not see him—the statement was made aloud, so that those who were by could hear, and in the presence of another officer—we were surrounded by police and a crowd—I thought the statement was important, to some extent; I have given it to the best of my knowledge—he said nothing about a lamp.
WALTER MUNDAY . I am a fireman of the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on the morning of 17th October I was on duty at Theobald's Road station—at 12.55 I was called by a stranger to a public-house in Eagle Street, and about the same time the fire alarm from Bedford Row rang up—my station is only about nine minutes' run with the engine from the Bricklayers' Arms—I turned out both a manual engine and an escape—on arriving at Eagle Street I found a fire in the basement of the public-house; it was coming up through the cellar, making way through the ground floor, level with the street—I got a hydrant in use and extinguished the fire—the flames were coming up through the floor—in the meantime other engines arrived; we made up our hose and went back to the station, leaving one man behind—I did not make any examination then, only looked round to see that there was no fire left—I saw a broken bottle down below, in the basement, on a shelf, not on the floor; that was about six feet from the fire—when I left the premises the fire was thoroughly extinguished—there was no possible chance of its breaking out again, from the amount of water put on it.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. The tire had not attacked the staircase—it was not under the staircase, it was down in the basement, in what is known as the spirit-room, and was making its way through the floor, through the ceiling of the cellar.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I did not notice any particular
smell—I was in the cellar before the fire was out—we took a branch down there—I might not have noticed a smell; it did not strike me—I was busily engaged in putting the fire out.
THOMAS CHARLES BIRCH . I am foreman fireman of the Metropolitan Fire Brigade at Farringdon Street station—on the morning of 17th October, about five minutes to one, I received a call from Holborn—I turned out and went to Eagle Street and found the fire at the Bricklayers' Arms—it was not extinguished when I got there—Munday was there at work with a hydrant; it was eventually put out—I afterwards made an examination of the cellar, both the outer and inner cellar—the cellar was reached by an almost perpendicular step ladder—the cellar was underground and quite dark—the inner cellar was a room about nine or ten feet square—I examined the wooded partition; it had been burnt all round the upper part of it, on the two sides of the woodwork, and the brickwork—the woodwork was all burnt—the staircase was almost immediately over the partition, but not quite—the boarding was burnt all round; the fire had gone all round the partition—the direction of the fire was peculiar; there were no goods or anything to make it take that direction from where it originated—there was some oust in one corner, right under the window—I should suppose that was where the fire broke out—there were several barrels in the outer cellar; all that I tapped were empty—I might say I tapped all of them—I might possibly have missed one, but I don't think I did; all that I tapped were empty—I saw no bottles there, or any broken ones on the floor—I saw the gas meter in the outer cellar—I examined it; the cock was turned off—I saw no remains of any candlestick or lamp there—I was there for about forty minutes—by the time I left the tire was extinguished—I left a fireman in charge—about eleven the same night I received another call to the same public-house—I went there with a steamer; I was preceded by Hipsy, one of my men—at the time I arrived the fire had been extinguished—my attention was directed to a recess under the stairs on the ground floor, immediately above the ladder leading down to the cellar—the recess had a wooden partition running across it, immediately under the staircase, above the partitioned-off wine cellar in which I had been that same morning—I there saw some straw which had been lighted underneath, and some loose wood—some had been pulled out and some had been left—some of it had been on fire, and had fallen down into the basement—it smelt very strongly of paraffin; it seemed to be all saturated with paraffin—I did not smell anything particular about the recess itself, but about the wood—I saw Bush there, and called his attention to the paraffin—he said, "I generally keep about half a gallon of paraffin in a bottle in that recess"—he also said, "I don't know how the fire occurred, I am sure. Priestley had been in the cellar previous to the fire to put on a cask of ale. Priestley put on the ale and came up the steps or ladder to go into the bar, and he put a lighted candle into this recess. He had a candle in a candlestick, and he put this candlestick with the candle alight into this recess, on the top of the ladder, and then went into the bar and tried the engine to see if he had put the beer on right. During that time, or before he could get back to go down into the cellar again, the fire had occurred"—that was the substance of all he said to me—when I looked into the recess I did not see the remains of any bottle there, nothing except the
loose wood and straw, no candlestick or lamp or anything of that kind—the side of the staircase was slightly charred, and also some of the woodlining of the recess.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. When I arrived the fire in the recess was partly out—I do not know that it had been put out by Bush—there are two recesses; it was the top recess, directly above the winecellar—there would be about eighteen inches between the shelf and the floor—the ceiling of the wine-cellar was blackened; the fire was making its way through the flooring; it ran right up the lath partition, right up the brickwork, from the wine-cellar—I did not make any note at the time of what Bush said—it is possible that he might have said, "I generally kept about half a gallon of paraffin in a bottle," or "keep"; I could not be positive which; he might have said "kept"—he said Priestley had been in the cellar; I don't think he said, "I suppose he had"—the wood in the recess smelled very strongly of paraffin—I say positively that this fire was caused by paraffin—I might have said at the Police-court, "I could not swear that the second fire was caused by paraffin"—what I meant to infer was this: I could not tell who set the place on fire, but I had no doubt that paraffin had been an active agent in the matter—in my report I marked the cause of the fire "doubtful"—if it had been caused by paraffin, I should not have marked it as caused by paraffin; I should put "doubtful"—by "doubtful" I mean almost amounting to incendiarism—when I was called I saw no one in the house; there had been people in the house—we should be there in about five minutes of the first call.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I "saw Munday there at the first fire; he was there before me—I did not see any empty bottles in the cellar—I can't say what there was; I did not look for them; I did not see any bottles, empty or broken—I did not detect any smell of paraffin.
Cross-examined by Priestley. When I saw you in the street I cannot tell where you came from—I saw you afterwards in the bar parlour; Bush was there, the police inspector, and the engineer from Holborn, and at times Hipsy—I asked you how the fire occurred, and you made a statement, not to me—I did not take anything down in writing; you made it to the inspector.
FLORENCE HODGE . I am the wife of Thomas Hodge, a tailor, and occupy the second floor at 13, Eagle Street, next door to the Bricklayers' Arms—I know Cox and Bush—on the early morning of 17th October I was aroused by the fire—between nine and ten that morning I was at my door with Mrs. Bedou and Alfred Torr, when Bush came down the street from Red Lion Street—I jokingly said to him, "Were you trying to burn us down last night, Joe?"—he said, "What harm if the whole b—lot was burnt to the ground, a lot of old houses like they are?"—I and Mrs. Bedou both spoke together, "How about us and the children?"—he said, "You could b—well make some more; what do I care about you and your children as long as my boy Joey is all right?"—Mrs. Bedou said, "How about the horses at the back, in Mr. Edwards' stable?"—he said, "B—them, let them run"—then he said, "Had my house been burnt to the ground I should have had a new one built up for me"—Mrs. Bedou said, "Then you must be insured, Joe?"—he said, "Yes," and walked away.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. Only Alfred Torr was there when
this took place—he heard the conversation—I only said it in a joke to begin with—I should think he answered it in a joke by the way he laughed—he laughed when he looked up at his house—he was speaking loud; we could all hear distinctly what he said—I have known him well ever since he took the house—I used to be a customer there, and Mrs. Bedou too.
ELIZABETH BEDOU . I am the wife of Henry Bedou, 13, Eagle Street, next door to the Bricklayers' Arms—in the early morning of 17th October I was in bed with my husband and one child six weeks old; my five other children were in the back room—I heard the alarm of fire—my husband woke me, and I heard the engines coming down the street; it frightened me very much—I could not get out of my bed; my husband lifted me, and put me on my feet—later in the morning I saw Bush at the street door—I was with Mrs. Hodge—he said, "Mother Bedou, how did you get on?"—I said, "How do you think I got on with six little children in a scrimmage from the fire?"—he said, "I am very glad my little Joey is all right"—I said, "Yes, but how about my six children?"—"Oh!" he said, "make some more"—I said, "Look at the horses at the back"—he said, "B—them, let them run"—I said, "Are you insured, Mr. Bush?"—he said, "Yes," and went in.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. I was standing with Mrs. Hodge, and heard this—there were lots of people standing about—he spoke out loud—Mrs. Hodge spoke, but I was so terrified I hardly knew what to do—I had to get the children to school, and get back to work—this was between nine and ten—I had seen Bush pass that morning—I could not tell how many people there were about; about eight or nine about our door, and others across the way—they were all conversing about the fire—I used the house.
Re-examined. He was speaking to both of us—we both stood on the door-step—he stopped us.
ALFRED JOHN TORR . I am a labourer, and live at 4, Sand land Street, Holborn—I know the three prisoners—I have used the Bricklayers' Arms a good many years—I have seen the three prisoners there from time to time—I was there on Monday night, the 16th October—about seven that evening I went down into the cellar with Priestley; he lime-whited part of the cellar—I held the candle while he did it—I left the premises soon after seven—I came back about ten, and remained till closing time, about half-past twelve—I did not go away with the rest of the people; Cox asked me to stop behind as he had a little job down in the cellar to do, and he wanted me to hold the candle for him—I helped him to close the house, and after that he showed me a white deal box in the tap-room about two feet wide and thirteen long, and asked me to bring it down in the cellar with me—I did so, going down the step ladder leading from the passage to the cellar—he followed me down with a candle; he told me to put the box into the place where Priestley had been lime-whiting, the inner cellar—he did not go in there with me—he did not tell me where in the cellar to put it, he merely pointed to the place at the side of the wooden partition near the door, and I put it there—there was some straw in the box, nothing else; it seemed to me as if a dog had been sleeping in it—I then took the candle and held it while he tilted a barrel of ale in the other cellar—he did not go into the other place at all—after he tilted the ale he said, "I have
not as much to do down the cellar as I thought for"—he turned the gas off the meter in the outer cellar—the candle was the only light we had in the cellar—we then returned upstairs—I was carrying the candle—he turned off the gas-burners in the bar—they were not alight at that time—the gas was alight when we were going into the cellar—when he turned off the burners we were in darkness—the only light in the house was the candle I had—he then came to the door with me and let me out, and shut the door after me—at the time I left there was no sign whatever of fire in the house—it was then about ten minutes or a quarter to one, as near as possible—the candle was never near the box with the straw after I put it there—after leaving the house I went home—I was just undressing when I heard the police whistles, and I went back to the premises about half-past one—I went into the bar and down into the cellar; the salvage men were there—I went and looked at the place that had been partitioned off, and saw there had been a fire, and saw a small part of the box burnt to a cinder, and the straw was all burnt—I only saw Cox as he was going to the hospital; I did not speak to, him—I saw no more of him after that—I then left the premises—I returned next morning between nine and ten—I saw Bush there—he was having a conversation with Mrs. Hodge and Mrs. Bedou; I heard part of it—I spoke to him—I said, "This looks all right, don't it, being burnt down like this, having a fire here last night?"—he did not answer me—he was talking to the females—that was all the conversation I had—that same afternoon, about five, I was again at the Bricklayers' Arms; I saw Priestley and Bush behind the bar—Priestley had been employed there some few months before, but not then—he asked me to come to a coffee-shop with him in High Holborn, and while we were having refreshment we were talking about the fire that happened on the Monday night or Tuesday morning—he said, "Alf, they made a bad job of it last night; I will get something to-night to smoulder; if it comes off all right I shall get some money for it"—I told him to leave it alone—he said nothing more—he said nothing about my seeing anything, as I remember—I returned with him to the Bricklayers' Arms—Bush was still there—I remained there off and on—during the evening I saw Bush and Priestley behind the bar whispering to one another—Priestley went downstairs towards the cellar between nine and ten; he came back in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour and whispered to Joe (Bush) while Joe was playing at dominoes in the public bar—I saw him go over to him and whisper in his ear, and afterwards Bush said, "Go down into the cellar and see what is the matter with the engine, as four ale is all off"—he went down, and was there about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I went into the tap-room to talk to a friend, and whilst talking to him I saw flames coming from beneath the staircase, under the flooring of the recess, and I saw Priestley run up the ladder—I saw nothing in his hand—he said, "Tell Joe the cellar is on fire," and he ran out of the house—Bush got up from the table where he was playing dominoes, and stood by the end of the bar—two or three neighbours and myself went and got some pails of water and threw on the fire—I got the water from the opposite house—Bush did not assist at all to put out, the fire while I was there; he was standing there, just by the end of the bar—I did not hear him say anything—the firemen were soon on the scene, and the fire was extinguished
—I stayed there till it was put out, and then left—I afterwards saw Priestley with the inspector—I said something to the inspector directly he arrived—I did not speak to Priestley again that night—on the Saturday before the fire, the 14th October, I was on the premises, and I fetched a cab for Mrs. Cox; she was living on the premises up to that time; she paid me for fetching the cab—I saw her go away—she took with her two or three large bundles of clothing, two cats, and the bird—it was about eight in the evening.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. It was on the 16th that I was assisting in whitewashing the cellar—Priestley was employed about the premises then; he had been employed as potman before—that was before Cox's time; when Cox came Priestley ceased to be potman, but he used to do odd jobs—I knew that Cox was taken to the hospital and was there on the evening of the second fire, and that Priestley was with Bush—I don't know that he was acting as potman then—I was not aware that something had gone wrong with the engine—I know that Priestley went down to put on the ale—no beer was drawn the first time he went down; the second time there was—when I saw the lames coming from the recess Bush was playing dominoes—there were about a dozen customers in the house then—I did not at once communicate to the police the conversation with Priestley, because I did not believe he was really serious at the time—he did not mention Bush's name in the statement—Bush did not take any notice of the fire; he did not evince the slightest anxiety—I have been a customer at the house twelve years.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I had not much money to spend there; I have been out of employment latterly—I am not a great friend of Cox's, or Bush, or of Priestley, only by working together—when I went down with Priestley to whitewash it was the first cellar we went into—he whitewashed under the stairs; it did not smell of paraffin—there were a good many empty bottles about the place on the shelf; I should think about a dozen—I did not see any full ones; all I saw had the corks out—I saw none with the corks in—it was early in the morning that the cellar was whitewashed—I did not think it suspicious—only one thing caused my suspicion while whitewashing, Priestley did the walls and left the joists of the ceiling—he was down there about an hour and a half—he went up and asked Cox if he should do them or not, and Cox sent down word that they were not to be done, and Priestley came down and told me—later on Cox asked me to stay and go down into the cellar with the box—it was not very heavy, it was nearly full of straw; he could have carried it quite as well as I could—when Mrs. Cox went away on the Saturday I did not know that she was ill; she said something about being ill—the dog was left behind.
Re-examined. I have known the house twelve years—it was an old house, mostly woodwork inside, only one staircase running up through it—it was out of repair, both inside and out, and had been getting worse—Bush had been there about twelve months; he was constantly there up to 16th October—directly after the fire, when I saw the police inspector, I communicated with him.
and hair were badly singed, and one of his knuckles—afterwards in conversation I asked him how this occurred—he did not give any explanation—he said it was while putting the fire out—I did not go into that question at all.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. He was in the hospital about three weeks, he was very severely burnt—it was very possible to have been in endeavouring to put out the fire; they must have been very painful—after such burns I should think he would be in a dazed condition, that is often the effect.
CHARLES WILLIAM HIPSEY . I am a fireman in the Metropolitan Brigade—on 17th October, about eleven p.m., I was called to a fire at the Bricklayers' Arms—I should say there were between eight and nine persons in the bar when I got in—I saw a fire burning in the recess under the stairs; it was a quantity of rough firewood—I noticed a smell of paraffin—I saw Bush in the bar—I asked For an old mat to extinguish the fire with, and he got it immediately.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. I do not recognise Priestley as being there—there were bits of wood burning in the recess—when I first noticed Bush he was standing in front of the bar, looking, about ten or twelve feet from the fire.
Cross-examined by Priestley. I could not say who it was who took the mat from me; somebody did, and helped to extinguish the fire at the bottom of the steps I could not recognise you.
BENJAMIN GEORGE WEST . I am an engineer in the Metropolitan Fire Brigade—on the 17th October, about-eleven at night, I had a call, and went to the Bricklayers' Arms—I did not see any dog there—during the night I inspected the place with Police Sergeant Nicholls—I was with him when a stone jar was found at the back of the bar parlour—this is it (Produced)—it was in a small covered way, a kind of coal cellar—it was empty—it smelled of paraffin, and as if it had contained beer.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. It smells of paraffin now.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Police Sergeant E). On 18th October, about Half-past twelve in the early morning, I went to the Bricklayers' Arms in the company of the last witness; I found this stone bottle—I smelled it at the time; it smelled strongly of paraffin and slightly of beer—I found it in a little place used as a coal cellar at the back of the back parlour; it was a covered court way—I examined the recess under the stair-case where the fire had been; I found there a quantity of rough firewood, straw, and partly-burnt paper—the recess smelled very strongly of paraffin, and the wood I took possession of was saturated with paraffin—I showed this bottle to Bush at the Police-station, and asked him if he could give me any account or explanation with reference to it—he at first said that he had never seen the bottle in his life before—he afterwards said that he had seen it yesterday, when the fireman was at the Bricklayers' Arms—he did not mention any particular time—I asked him if he could explain how the wood had paraffin on it—he said, "No, only that Priestley might have upset the bottle when he went down to put the beer on"—Bush and Priestley were then charged with setting fire to the premises—Bush said he knew nothing about it—Priestley made no reply in my hearing—on 20th October I went to King's College Hospital, and there saw Cox—Inspector Everett in my presence told him that he had taken
statements from Joseph Bush, Mr. Edwards, and the man Torr—I read those statements to Cox, and told him that whatever he said would be taken down in writing by me, and might be used at the Police-court—he was not then in custody; I had gone there for the purpose of arresting him—he then made a statement which I took down in writing, and have here in my book. (Reads: "I turned the gas out, and upset the spirit lamp in the cellar. After I had turned off the gas, or whilst doing so, I fell over a cask, and the lamp exploded and set the cellar on fire. Mr. Hastings had sent about two gallons of gin, two gallons of port, and about two of whisky away; it was taken to the Bricklayers' Arms, in Little Clarence Street, Seymour Street. Bush told me that Mr. Evans and Mr. Salt were going to sleep with me. The reason I asked Torr to take the box containing the straw down into the cellar after closing time was because I had no room upstairs for it. I bought two quarts of paraffin oil myself on Monday afternoon at a little shop in New Oxford Street I put the bottle in the yard. After I met with the accident in the cellar I went to my bedroom, where young Bush was. He said to me, 'The place is on fire.' I said, 'No; I don't think it is;' but I told him to get out at the back window and fetch the engine. He did so. I threw his socks and boots out of the window, and Mr. Edwards came in, and I was taken to the hospital. After Torr had taken the box downstairs I let him out at the front door, and returned to the cellar to put the gas out. I did not say anything to Edwards about the brandy, to my recollection. I was simply acting as servant to Mr. Bush, and carrying on the business for him")—I read that statement over to Cox—he said it was true—I did not ask him to sign it; he could not, he was in bandages—I arrested him on the 16th November, when he was discharged from the hospital—Bush told me that Cox managed the house for him.
By the COURT. I had never seen Bush before the 18th of October; not with reference to the fire—I knew him at the public-house—I wrote down this statement on the 18th.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. The 20th was the first day I went to the hospital to see Cox—I called afterwards from time to time; three times a week—I did not see him each time—I did not tell him I was going to arrest him until I arrested him.
CHARLES EVERETT (Inspector E). On 17th October, about eleven p.m., I went to the Bricklayers' Arms—I there saw Hipsey, the fireman—he called my attention to some wood and paper in the recess under the stair-case—I examined it—it smelt strongly of paraffin oil—at that time Torr made a statement to me, after which I arrested Bush, and after making inquiries of Priestley, I told him I should take him into custody for setting fire to the place—he said he knew nothing about it—Priestley was not in the house at the time—I made inquiries, and found that he had left—later I saw him in Eagle Street; he was pointed out to me, and I took him into custody and charged him with being concerned in setting fire to the place—he made no reply—I afterwards saw him and Bush at the Police-station, when they were charged—on the 17th October Priestley made a statement to me—that was between the time I charged Bush and the time I arrested Priestley—I took him into a back room, where I told him I should arrest him, and he then made the statement—he said, "I was asked by the landlord to put a barrel of ale on;
I put the candle under the stairs, the girl said it was put under the wrong tap. I found it did not draw; I afterwards found it alight, and called to Mr. Bush, 'Joe, there is a fire.' I turned the tap on, and threw water. I did not know of anything, and went away."
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. That statement was made in the back bar—I arrested him outside, and took him off.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. It was on the 13th that I saw Cox at the hospital—I did not then tell him that I was going to arrest him; I had made up my mind to—I told him I was an inspector, and that Nicholas was a detective, and I read these statements to him—I told him that anything he said might be used against him at the Police-court—I did not mean to trap him into some admission—I knew I could pot Arrest him then, because he was very ill—I have here the statements that I read up him—I took down this statement of Edwards, young Bush, and Torr, the day after the remand at the Police-court, after they had given their evidence—I did not put any questions to Cox; Nicholls asked him if he had bought any paraffin oil, and he told him "Yes"—no other questions were put to him.
Cross-examined by Priestley. I arrested you outside in Eagle Street; you were not standing outside the private bar—at the station we sat down till two o'clock, while Nicholls went back to the fire, and searched the place.
By the COURT. I did not put down the date when the statements were taken—I have been an inspector six years—I sometimes date my memorandums—the evidence of the witnesses had been given at the Police-court—these statements were taken at the station; I believe I furnished them to the Solicitor for the Treasury—Sergeant Nicholls was with me when I took the statements—I mentioned it to Inspector. Robinson; he saw them; I did not show them to him—I did not show them to the Solicitor for the Treasury or anybody else until this morning—I was never asked for them—I did not make any copies of them; there were copies made of further statements—no copy of these was furnished to anybody. (The witness again read the statement by Torr)—I have not got Edwards' statement in this book; I did not read that; I did not take a statement from Edwards before I went to the hospital.
By MR. MATHEWS. This (produced) is the statement of Edwards, dated 23rd October; it is Sergeant Nicholls' writing.
FREDERICK TAYLOR (424 E). I was present at the fire at the Brick-layers' Arms on 17th October, about a quarter past eleven—Bush was handed over to me by Everett; I took him to Hunter Street Police-station—on the way he said, "I told Priestley to go into the cellar and tap the last barrel of beer, two minutes afterwards I saw smoke coming through the floor. I know there was a jar of something down the cellar, but I did not know what it was, as the other things were sent away to Barking."
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. I took this statement of Bush about twelve the same night, when I got to the station—I did not read it over to him.
JOHN WILLIAMS (6 E R). About eleven on the night of 17th October I went to the Bricklayers' Arms—I saw little Bush coming out of Edwards' yard, in his shirt sleeves, a pair of trousers and shirt, but no
boots or stockings—I pushed open the door leading into the bar, and Priestley came out into Eagle Street—I did not go into the house—I saw the flames right in front of me, as I had the door open—I remained there some little time—some water was brought and thrown over the flames before the firemen arrived—afterwards, acting on instructions from Everett, I took Priestley into custody, and took him to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. There were at least a dozen persons in the bar—Bush was sitting at a table on the left, with four or five others—they got up when I opened the door—none of them tried to extinguish the fire; they did not make any effort at all—Bush remained there till after the firemen arrived, and then he went in, and the doors were closed—I did not see him get a mat; it was a small fire, but a large blaze.
Re-examined. Strangers brought the water.
MR. MATHEWS called for documents, which were produced, showing the owners of the premises to be the Rev. diaries Smith and E. A. Smith, of Essex Street, Strand.
THOMAS OWEN PUGH . I am a brewer, of Home Park, Surbiton—I was the mortgagee of the Bricklayers' Arms, Eagle Street—on 3rd October, 1892, I assigned the leasehold interest in the premises for the remainder of an unexpired term to the prisoner Bush—this is the assignment—the lease is from 25th March, 1878, for twenty-one years, expiring in 1899. (Other assignments were produced, ultimately one leaving the possession of the premises to Bush upon payment of £375)—£90 was paid in cash, leaving £285 on mortgage of October 23rd, and costs to be paid by him—a rent was reserved of £50 a year under the original lease—that was paid to the solicitors for the owners, Messrs. Guscott, of Essex Street—Bush took out the license within a few days of the assignment by Guscott and Co.—he asked me to lend him £10 or £20 to pay for the license.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. I did not know Bush till he came and asked for the loan, in the usual way of business—I own a good many houses of this kind—there was a stipulation that Bush should get his beer from me—it was not through his getting beer elsewhere that I threatened to foreclose—I did not threaten to for close; one of our representatives no doubt complained—we were under the impression that he was going to dispose of the property to Cox, and that we should be paid off—I very likely went to Mr. Dean and made a bitter complaint—I am not aware that in consequence of that we sent in some beer the day before the 16th October—I should not know that personally—I knew that some rent was owing—I was not aware how much.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I believe Guscott and Co. had possession of the policy of insurance—I never had it; I never mentioned anything about it to Bush.
JOHN CORNWALL —I am clerk to Messrs. Guscott, solicitors, of Essex Street—we acted for the owners of this property, Rev. C. F. Smith and E. A. Smith—the building was insured in the British Law Fire—I produce the policy; it is dated 30th June, 1891, for £600—the rent reserved by the original lease is £50 a year—Bush entered into possession in 1892—he paid one quarter's rent to Christmas, 1892—three quarters' rent was owing at the time of the fire—several applications were made for it.
—I produce a proposal in the name of Joseph Henry Bush to insure the contents of the Bricklayers' Arms, dated 27th October, 1892, for £300; £150 on household goods, £125 on stock and utensils, and £25 for six months' rent—the policy was issued the same day; it is endorsed to James Cox on 11th September, 1893; it is not signed—there was no notification to the office of any transfer of the interest in that policy—in our books it is "Joseph Bush"—no claim has been made on the office for any damage done to the premises on either of these occasions.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. On the face of the policy there is this memorandum: "This office, in case of loss, will only be liable for rent for six months, as the building may be untenantable in case of fire"—I believe the assessors handed in a claim—the premium was paid down to December, 1893.
EDWIN ARTHUR LEACH . I am a surveyor, of 143, Cannon Street, City—in the interests of the Westminster Fire Office, on the 17th October, in the afternoon, I went to the premises and saw Bush, and told him I had come from the Westminster Office as to the fire which had occurred that morning—I handed him a similar form to this, and told him to fill it up and send it to me—there was very little furniture in the house; a little bedding, two or three chairs, and a table, I think; that was practically all; I did not take a list of the things—I asked him as to the amount at which he estimated his loss; he said £25—the form has never been sent back.
STEPHEN EVANS . I live at 46, Somers Street, Earl Street, Wandsworth—I am a managers' agent and public-house broker—I was at the Bricklayers' Arms on the evening of 16th October—about seven that evening I remember some things being removed from the premises, four jars of spirits and one jar of port; I think three were gallon jars, and two two-gallon jars—it is a fully licensed house—Cox and Bush were there, and Priestley was about—he helped to put the jars in the cab—they were brought from the bar parlour by Cox and Bush—the cab was sent for—Bush, I think, made up the things—I heard him say, "The street is clear now"—that was before the cab was sent for—Priestley and the cabman put the spirits in the cab—I got into the cab and drove away with the spirits; first of all to a public-house, another Bricklayers' Arms, in Little Clarendon Street, Somers Town—they would not take the spirits in there; that house was going into the same brewers' trade—I afterwards took them to the cloak-room at Euston Station, and left them there for the night—I next went to the Bricklayers' Arms—it must have been about seven to half-past, on Tuesday morning, the 17th—I saw Bush—I did not tell him what had become of the spirits—he did not ask me, that I am aware of—I was acting under the instructions of the brewers' solicitors in the removal of these spirits—the reason they would not take them at the public-house was because the permit was not regular—there was no conversation about it with Bush afterwards—I did not stay five minutes—I did not see Bush—I returned with the idea of finding Cox, and I then heard he was in the hospital—I believe the spirits have been seized by the Commissioners of Excise—I was informed so at Bow Street—I did not take any more interest in them—Mr. George Crow, the brewers' solicitor, employed me to take them to the public-house, and they had refused to take them in, and I
then took them to the cloak-room at Euston, as a parcel—I had been trying to get a loan of £500 on the trade done at the Bricklayers' Arms, the third week in August, 1893—the negotiations extended down to the first week in October—I could not get the loan because the freeholder required between £200 and £300 spent in repairs on the premises before granting a new twenty-one years' lease—it might have been between £300 and £400 in the first instance; it was afterwards reduced—I tried for the loan in more than one quarter, and was unsuccessful in any—I told Cox so, and also Bush.
Cross-examined by MR. DRUMMOND. The spirits were removed that day, owing to instructions from the brewers' solicitors, Messrs. Crow and Fletcher; the brewers were Thomas Phillips and Co.—they gave me reasons for the instructions—I knew that Cox was going to move out of this house.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Cox told me he was going to leave that week or the next, and we had an engrossing of the purchase of the Three Greyhounds in Greek Street, Soho—I have the agreement here; it was actually signed.
By the COURT. I first knew that I was going to take the spirits away on 16th October, between eleven and twelve—I never spoke to Bush directly regarding the matter, not even when he was helping to bring them from the bar parlour—the goods were invoiced to Cox.
By MR. MATHEWS. I was not going to sleep there that night—nothing was ever said about my sleeping there.
By MR. LAWLESS. A Mr. Salt was there that evening; he is a personal friend of mine; he had called in thinking to catch me there.
By the COURT. I did not suppose he was going to sleep there that night; it was never suggested—he left with me; he went with me with the spirits in the cab.
BUSH and COX—GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each. PRIESTLEY— NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against Priestley for feloniously setting fire to the same premises on the 17th October , upon which no evidence being offered the JURY returned a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 10th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
ROBERT ROWLANDS . I live at 40, Burdett Road, Mile End; it is a private house—I closed it on Dec. 29, and retired to rest at eleven p.m.—about 4.40 a.m. a constable knocked at the door; I went out, and saw him with
the prisoner in custody—I found the ground floor window open, and eleven flower-pots, 2 hyacinth glasses, and two flower-stands were removed from the area—the value of the whole lot is about half-a-crown—there were marks on the window as if it had been forced by a knife.
CHARLES FREEMAN (437 K). I was on duty in Burdett Road, and saw that Mr. Rowlands' premises were secure—about 4.40 I noticed that the bottom sash had been forced up, and eleven flower-pots had been shifted from the window and laid on a bed in front of the area—I turned my light on and found the prisoner trying to conceal himself in a corner of the area—I caught him by his hands and knocked at the door, and the prosecutor came—my sergeant was passing, and I told him.
JOHN ROBERTSON (35 K). I examined this window, and found marks outside the catch, as if it had been forced by some instrument—the prisoner said, "I did open the window and shift the flower-pots, but I did not enter the house; you can only make it an attempt"
Prisoner's defence. Do you think anybody could force the catch without a knife; nothing was found on me.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of burglary on September 9th, 1892.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ST. AUBYN Prosecuted.
MARK EVANS . I live with my father at 59, Ashton Street, Limehouse—the prisoner lodged in the same house—on 18th December, about 11.30 p.m., I took my two sisters to their bedroom—as we passed the prisoner's door the girls got frightened of him, and shut their door. (The Prisoner is a negro)—he then came out on the landing and pointed a revolver at us; I knocked it out of his hand, and he went into his room and shut the door.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You pointed it at me and Joseph Sedgwick.
JOSEPH SEDGWICK . I am apprentice to a coppersmith, and live in this house—I was with Mark Evans—we passed the prisoner's door, and he came out on the landing and pointed a revolver at us—it was knocked out of his hand—I went for the police; they came and he said he would shoot any man who put his head in at the door—I heard seven shots fired, and I saw the bullet marks on the wall—he was sober; he is a teetotaler—I had had no quarrel with him—I heard a noise at seven o'clock, and he said he had put some shots in the fire.
Cross-examined. I was in the yard when you came home—I did not use bad language—you said at the Police-court that I had a revolver, but I had not—I did not threaten you if you came downstairs; you go to bed about twelve o'clock, and go down for water and swear on the stairs—I went upstairs because you frightened the girls—I have not fired shots after you, when you went down for water; I have got no firearms—the old man never went upstairs, he was in bed.
GEORGE BELL (306 H). On December 18th, about 11.30, I was called to this house, and went up to the prisoner's room—I called him by name, and said that the charge was threatening the inhabitants of the
house with a revolver—he said, "I won't come out"—I pushed the knob of the door, but could only open it three inches—he said, "I pity the man that puts his nose in here; I will shoot him"—I saw the muzzle of a revolver come round the door, and he fired five shots—I then burst the door open—it was barricaded, and directly I got in he presented the revolver at me—I got hold of it, and he fired; the bullet passed me—I caught hold of him, and he fired again, making seven shots—I took down what he said at the station—he said, "I fired four with the big one and three with the little one."
Cross-examined. I did not see people throw stones at the window.
PATRICK KELLY (Policeman 308 H). I was with Bell, and saw these shots fired—one of them hit me on my leg, after ricocheting from the wall—the prisoner said at the station, "I fired four shots with the big one and three with the little one, to frighten him"—there are two revolvers.
WESLEY EDWARDS (Police Sergeant H). I went to 59, Ashton Street, and found three holes in the door of the prisoner's room, and three in the door opposite, evidently made by bullets, and another bullet-hole in a door on the right side of the prisoner's room, almost opposite his door—when he was charged he said, "I did not intend to hurt them, only to keep them away; I fired four with the big one, and three with the little one"—I found a revolver in his room on a chair, with six barrels loaded—I also found a second revolver—I compared the bullets with the holes, and they fitted.
Cross-examined. There was a hole in the door—the panel had been almost battered in.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I wanted to go down-stairs; they would not let me. I got my revolver out. They threatened to kick me downstairs. I said I would shoot them if they came near my place—one of the shots exploded in the fire, and they were frightened."
Prisoner's defence. When I came home they were always threatening to cut throats.
GUILTY on the first Count only.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, January 10th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
170. CHARLOTTE WEEDON PLEADED GUILTY to marrying Charles Stephen Atkinson during her husband's lifetime, and CHARLES STEPHEN ATKINSON to aiding and abetting her in the commission of that offence.— Discharged on recognizances.
172. WILLIAM PEARCE(26) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to stealing an overcoat and vest, the property of William Henry Hall; also to stealing a gelding, cart, harness, and whip, the property of Henry Collins; also to stealing a blanket and other goods, the property of William Ward; also to a conviction of felony in September; 1887.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. And
174. ALEXANDER LOCKYER(31), and JOHN VAUGHAN(23), PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Sarah Ann Trafford, and stealing a cruet-stand and other articles VAUGHAN also PLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in June, 1887, LOCKYER was also indicted for having been convicted of felony in June, 1887, to which he.
PLEADED NOT GUILTY.
MR. BRUCE Prosecuted.
ALFRED WARD (Sergeant E). I was present at the South London Sessions on 7th June, 1887, when the prisoner, in the name of Robert Kinghorn , was sentenced to five years' penal servitude for larceny from the person, after a previous conviction for felony—I produce the certificate of his conviction—the prisoner is the man; I had him in my custody, and I knew him before—I did not have him when he was convicted before, but I had him under observation when he was on ticket-of-leave; he reported himself at my station—before his conviction he was under remand for two or three weeks, and under my notice then—he was released in 1892—I did not see him again till he was in custody—the description of him is "Five feet high, scar at back of head and on forehead, vaccination marks on left arm, birthmark on belly, and mole on left buttock."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not know you personally well, but I have seen you—I saw you at Bow Street, and I then said I knew you. (Dr. Millar was directed by the Court to examine the prisoner.)
ALEXANDER MILLAR (Divisional Surgeon of Police). I have examined Lockyer—there is a distinct scar on the back of his neck, but no scar on the back of his head, as described here; it is evidently the result of a carbuncle—he has three distinct and old-standing scars on the right side of his forehead and one on the left side—vaccination marks are very distinct on his left arm; you might find those in almost every instance—I attach no importance to that as a mark of identification—he has no birth-mark on his belly or mole on his left buttock.
LOCKYER— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. VAUGHAN— Fourteen Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. BESLEY and C. F. GILL Prosecuted.
THOMAS WILLIAM DENNY . I am a cashier at the City Bank, Ludgate Hill branch—Mr. Alfred Henry Gibson, of Crane Court, Fleet Street, has an account there—on Friday, 22nd December, this cheque for £19, No. 50330, purporting to be drawn by Mr. Gibson, was presented to me over the counter by the prisoner—I noticed it was a cancelled cheque, and I told the prisoner it was cancelled—he said, "Perhaps he has given me the wrong one"—I walked into the manager's office with the cheque, leaving the prisoner standing at the counter—I returned in about two minutes, and I told the prisoner, who was still there, that the manager would like to see him—I showed him into the office, and left him with the manager—about two minutes afterwards I saw the prisoner leave—I next saw the prisoner at Bridewell Police-station, where I pointed him out from eight or nine men—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man I saw in the bank.
ALFRED HENRY GIBSON . I am a photo-etcher, on the third floor at 4, Crane Court, Fleet Street—Messrs. Banks, printers, occupy the rooms underneath, and sometimes their establishment is open all night, so that anyone could pass from the printing office up to my office—my outer door is provided with a very large slit for a letter-box, and it was possible to put a hand in the slit and pull back the catch of the door if you knew how to do it—I kept my cheque-book in a cupboard in the office—the prisoner was in my service as a handy man for six or seven weeks, leaving about the second week in September—my office consisted of two rooms on the same floor, with no partition dividing the rooms, so that the prisoner would have had an opportunity of seeing me go to the cupboard and using my cheque-book—he would have nothing to do with taking my pass-book to the bank—I did not pay my employees by cheque—I had this cheque-book of 100 forms in October—this cheque of 22nd December, 1893, is one of the forms from that book—it is not written or drawn by me—it is one of two stolen from the book—I drew no cheque between 12th December and the theft of the two forms—I have not seen the other stolen form—I did not miss them till I had information from the bank—I then looked at the cupboard, and found that the lock of the cupboard had several scratches on it—the prisoner was a carpenter; when with me he was there as a carpenter, but he occasionally watched the printing of the photographs—he was not a clerk, and had no familiarity with cheques or cheque forms—the scratches looked as if the lock had been forced back by using a sharp instrument—there were plenty of tools about the place—the cashier described the man who had tendered the cheque, and I recognised from his description a person who had been in my service—on 28th or 29th December I found him in custody—I think a hard knock on the side of the cupboard would shut the door again—I afterwards looked for my cancelled cheques, and could not find them all; one or two were missing.
MR. OAKLEY. I am the manager of the Ludgate Hill branch of the City Bank—Denny came and showed me this cheque on 22nd—I saw it was cancelled, and I saw the man who presented it; to the best of my belief the prisoner is the man—I asked him where he got the cheque from, whether Mr. Gibson gave it to him—he said, "Yes"—I kept it, and told him he had better ask Mr. Gibson to call.
CHARLES BRYAN (Detective Sergeant, City). At half-past seven on 28th December the prisoner was brought to Bridewell Station—I had had a description of him from Gibson and Denny, which was accurate as regards the prisoner—I said to him, "Do you know what you have been brought here for?"—he said, "Something about a cheque"—I said, "You will be charged with breaking and entering an office on the third floor of No. 4, Crane Court, Fleet Street, between the night of 21st and the morning of 22nd, and stealing two cheques from Mr. Gibson's cheque-book; also with forging and uttering one on the City Bank, Ludgate Hill, for the payment of £19, with intent to defraud"—I showed him the cheque—he said, "It is very much like my writing, but I know nothing whatever about it"—I said, "You need not say anything further without you desire to do so; whatever you say I shall have to give in evidence against you"—he said, "I shall say something. I know nothing whatever about it"—next day he selected his own position among
seven others—Mr. Denny identified him at once—he was charged by Mr. Gibson with the forgery—the charge was read to him—he made no reply.
EMILY LYNES . I live now at Evergreen Villas, Rectory Road, Hornsey—the prisoner lodged with me at 4, Harringay Grove, Hornsey, leaving about twelve months ago, after being with me about fourteen months—I have from time to time seen him write—to the best of my belief this cheque is in his undisguised writing—he was a carpenter—this, paper is also in his writing.
The prisoner, in his defence, contended that it was a case of mistaken identity.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LYNE Prosecuted, and MR. E. BEARD Defended.
PERCIVAL JOHN HULL . I am a jeweller and watchmaker, of 28, Seven Sisters Road—on 21st November the prisoner came in, and my assistant handed me from him an envelope addressed to me—I opened it—it contained this memorandum, which purported to come from Crisp and Co., about a clock which a customer wished to purchase—I did not altogether like the style of the memorandum, and I said, "All right, I will send it over"—I did not do so—ten to fifteen minutes afterwards the prisoner came again, and said, "You have not sent that clock over"—I said, "No. I was just going to do so"—he said, "The customer is getting very annoyed and impatient; shall I take it over for you?"—I said, "Yes"—he signed for it in the book, "J. Jenkins"—I said, "How do you want the invoice made out, and how about discount?" because I have business transactions with Crisp, and it was rather unusual for them to send a memo of this kind—the prisoner said, "You are to make the bill out in full"—I made out the invoice to Crisp, and gave the clock to the prisoner, who went away—on the 27th or 28th December I was called to the station, and I identified the prisoner immediately from ten or twelve others—I am certain he is the man.
Cross-examined. I had not, to my knowledge, previously seen the man—to the best of my knowledge, I told the policeman he was a man 5 ft. 6 in or 7 in. high—the men he was put among may have been 5 ft. 10 in. or 11 in.—I would not swear that the prisoner was the only one 5 ft. 6 in.—I gave a description to the police sergeant—I had no occasion to pay attention to the other men, as I knew the prisoner directly I saw him.
Re-examined. He was in my company for three or four minutes, while I was wrapping up the clock; and he was waiting the first time he came for perhaps two minutes.
By the COURT. I temporarily engaged the prisoner in November as china salesman—he remained one week, conducting himself well, but we had no further use for his services, and he was discharged—these memorandum forms are in use at our place, and any of our servants could
possess themselves of them without our missing them—we employ between 250 and 300 men.
The prisoner received a good character
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LYNE Prosecuted, and MR. E. BEARD Defended,
AMBROSE JONES . I am a jeweller, of 368, Holloway Road—on December 28th the prisoner came in and handed me this note on a memorandum form of Messrs. Treherne, drapers. (This stated that Lady Ross was making purchases, and they would be obliged if a clock could be sent in at once, together with the bill, as site desired to settle before leaving. It was signed, THOS. TREHERNE)—in consequence of something I heard I went over to Treherne's, and returned from there with a constable, and gave the prisoner into charge for attempting to obtain goods by fraud—he made no reply—as he was going to the station I picked up these two envelopes and these two papers, which dropped from his pocket—one is a memorandum form of Messrs. Crisp and Co., and the other a form of Marsh and Co., Kentish Town.
Cross-examined. I was absent ten minutes from my shop, I should think—when I returned the prisoner was just outside my shop; he had just left.
ERNEST SAUNDERS . I am assistant to Mr. Wright, jeweller, 420, Holloway Road—towards the end of November the prisoner came in and gave me this letter on a form of Crisp and Co. (Asking for a clock to be sent)—Mr. Wright was not in, and I could not let the prisoner have the clock—I next saw him at the Police-station, and picked him out from about twelve others—I am certain he is the man.
GUILTY.— Twelve Month's Hard Labour.
JOHN CHUMLEY . I live at 6, Lannon Place, Whitechapel Road, and am a shoemaker—at 2.30 p.m. on 27th December, I was in Brady Street when three men met me and held me against the wall under the railway arch—one man put his hand in my breast pocket—the prisoner came across the road while the other three men held me, and took 1s. 4d. out of my left trousers pocket—they threw me down, and I knocked a piece off my knuckle against the wall—the men walked slowly away—I got up and followed behind as fast as I could—I did not lose sight of them till the constable ran after them—I had had a glass, but I was not drunk; I was walking home—I was sober enough—when the men seized me I began
to holloa—the same evening I saw the prisoner at the Station-house—I did not pick him out; I recognised him.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. My hand was in my pocket not ten minutes before you took my money—you took my money; it was not in a purse.
GEORGE GOLDING . I live at 62, Linden Buildings, Shacklewell Street, and am a cabinet maker—on 27th December, about 2.30, I was in Brady Street with my daughter Laura, aged fifteen—just as I got under the arch I saw three fellows round the old man, holding him up, and one of them was picking his inside pocket; my daughter called my attention to it—the prisoner came across the road and put his hand into the old man's left trousers pocket, and then withdrew his hand, which was closed—the four men all went off together, and as they did so the old man fell—I followed the four men and kept them in sight till I came to a policeman opposite the Junction—I made a communication to him, and he followed them and captured the prisoner—I saw the prisoner at the station, and at once recognised him as the man.
LAURA GOLDING . I am daughter of the last witness, and live with him—on 27th December, at 2.30, I was with him in Brady Street—I saw three men holding the old man up against the wall—I passed them in the road, and when I turned to look I saw the prisoner come across the road and put his hand into the prosecutor's left trousers pocket and draw it out again—the men left; I followed behind my father—I saw the prisoner next day in the Court at Worship Street before the magistrate—I recognised him as the man.
CHARLES TALBOT (77 J). On 27th December George Golding made a communication to me, and pointed out the prisoner and three others together—I chased the prisoner—he turned and saw me running, and the men all separated—I chased the prisoner through the streets till he turned into a street where there was no way out at the other end—he tried to force his way into an empty house—as he was leaving the door I arrested him—he asked what I wanted him for—I said, "For being concerned with other men in robbing a man in Brady Street"—he said he had done nothing, and that he ran because other people were running—he refused to give his address—I took him to the station, where the prosecutor and the witness identified him—the prosecutor came to the station at 2.45; he was the worse for drink; he had had a little too much.
The prisoner in his defence stated he was walking under the arch when six or seven men came along with their arms up, and he was frightened, and ran away.
GUILTY of Robbery.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
179. ARTHUR FOOT(20), and EDWARD PEARCE(20), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing three envelopes, three pieces of paper, and an order for the payment of £1 13s., the goods of James Williams. PEARCE also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in May, 1892, in the name of Arthur Lobb , alias Jones.
180. ARTHUR FOOT and EDWARD PEARCE were again indicted for assaulting Thomas Williams, with intent to resist their apprehension. Other Counts, for assaulting a police constable in the execution of his duty, and for common assault.
MR. BROMBY Prosecuted.
THOMAS WILLIAMS (City Detective). At ten p.m. on 28th November I was on duty in Queen Victoria Street—I saw Pearce and Foot taking letters out of letter-boxes—I saw Pearce put them in his pocket—they went up Godliman Street—Bryan and Stocker followed on the left-hand side of Queen Victoria Street—I crossed by the ventilator, and got on the other side—twenty or thirty yards up Godliman Street the prisoners looked round—I sprang, and caught them by the collar—Pearce was on my right—directly I caught his collar he ducked his head, screwed round and ran up Godliman Street—I let go of Foot, and was just starting to run after Pearce, when I felt a bang on my head—no one else was there but Foot, and he was on my left, which was the side the blow came from—it came on the left side of the back part of my head—I don't know if I was dazed or not by the blow, but when I went after Pearce he was farther away than I thought he was—I followed Pearce through Knight rider Street into Carter Lane, where someone stopped him—I caught hold of him by the collar, and he started to struggle, and I either fell or was thrown—I fainted, and knew no more till I found myself in the hospital—just before I fainted I felt something trickling, and I put my fingers up, and felt blood running down my neck—I was for five weeks in the City Police Infirmary—I was discharged to come and give evidence here, but I have not been on duty since.
FREDERICK GORDON BROWNE . I am surgeon to the City Police—on 28th November, shortly after eleven, Williams was brought to my house; he was stunned—he was bleeding from a wound at the back of the head—I stopped the bleeding, and dressed the wound; he was very collapsed, and I had to give him a stimulant before I could send him to the hospital—he has been suffering from concussion of the brain for over a month, and still experiences great headache—he has done no duty since, and is not fit for it—the wound was at the back of the head on the left-hand side, between the ear and the back part of the head—the wound, in my opinion, was produced by a stick or bludgeon—I think Williams will be the same man again that he was before; time will restore him.
CHARLES BRYANT (Detective Sergeant, City). By Foot. When Williams caught hold of Young and Pearce, a mail-cart came by, and I could not see you for a moment, and then I saw Stocker with you on the ground, and then I ran after Pearce.
Foot, in his defence, asserted his innocence, and said that lie had no stick, or anything to do it with.
MR. BROMBY stated that he should not ask the JURY to convict Pearce upon this indictment.
PEARCE— NOT GUILTY .
FOOT— GUILTY .
PEARCE**— Eighteen Month's Hard Labour
FOOT*— Nine Months' Hard Labour upon the indictment for robbery , and Six Months' Hard Labour upon the indictment for assault, the sentences to be consecutive.
The GRAND JURY and the COURT commended the conduct of Williams.
a Customs officer—between ten and eleven p.m. on 19th December I was going home, when I was accosted by six or seven men, one of whom was Bailey, and knocked down by a blow, and when on the ground Bailey kicked me in the side; I felt the effects of it for two or three days afterwards—I had about six shillings in my right-hand trousers pocket and about three shillings in my left—Bailey took the six shillings from my right pocket—I got up, and was struck by Bailey, and knocked down again in the middle of the road, between the tram lines, and then two of the same gang kicked me in the side and knee—I got up again, and got on the other side of the road, was knocked down again, and it was there I was robbed—Bailey kicked me altogether three or four times, I should think—I could not swear that Thompson was there; to the best of my opinion he was—I followed Bailey some way, but he got away—I saw him again the same night in custody, and identified him immediately—I did not see Thompson again that day.
Cross-examined by Bailey. This occurred outside the New Fountain Public-house—I was not drunk.
GEORGE HODGES (422 G). At 10.40 on 19th December I was in the City Road, and I saw the prosecutor walking towards me—when sixty yards from me he was set on by five or six men and knocked down on the pavement—he struggled to his feet, and was again knocked down in the centre of the road on the tram lines, and he was picked up by the two prisoners and another man, on the other side, by the Fountain—I ran up—Bailey was standing on his right side with his hand in his right trousers pocket, and Thompson was standing apparently trying to hold the prosecutor down on the other side—I tried to arrest Bailey—Thompson gave me the shoulder, nearly knocking me down, and he tried to bar my passage—I struck him and knocked him against some shutters, and ran after Bailey, who went through several streets and then through a public-house, at the front door of which I caught him—I saw nothing more of Thompson that evening—I made inquiries and received information, and on the 28th I went with Gould to the Phoenix Coffee-house, where we found Thompson lying on the bed in the front room in his clothes—we took him into custody—I knew him by sight.
Cross-examined by Bailey. When I saw you with your hands in the prosecutor's pocket I was about ten yards away; it was outside the Fountain.
Cross-examined by Thompson. You picked the prosecutor up and threw him down, on the same side as the New Fountain—I have known you between two and three years; I have seen you in the neighbourhood of the City Road.
ALFRED GOULD (Detective Sergeant G). I went with Hodges, on 28th December, to the Phoenix Coffee-house and there arrested Thompson, who was lying fully dressed face downwards on the bed—two other men were in other beds in the room—I turned him over—Hodges recognised him—I said, "You will have to accompany me to the station, for being concerned with Punch Bailey in assaulting and robbing a man outside here last Tuesday night week—he made no answer then or when charged at the station—I have seen the prisoners together—I know them as associates.
Road—at 11.20 p.m. on 19th December I was called to Hoxton Police-station, and examined the prosecutor—I found him suffering from a contusion just above and at the outer side of the right knee; he also had a contusion on the outer surface of his left forearm—both contusions were semicircular in shape and partly denuded of skin; they had roughly the outline of a boot or shoe, and might have been caused by that means—the prosecutor had evidently been severely knocked about—I formed the opinion that he was sober, but was suffering from partial collapse owing to the seriousness of those injuries.
Witnesses for the Defence.
CHARLES HENRY KIRBY . I am a cabman—on the night in question I pulled up outside the New Fountain to have a drink—I saw Bailey, and asked him to have a drink with me—the prosecutor came round the corner, and looked at us, and he hit Bailey in the stomach, and Bailey said, "What are you up to, old man? You take a liberty with me; now look out for yourself," and they had a fight and fell down in the road, and got up and had another go—a constable came over, and the prosecutor got up and walked to the corner—the constable went to go towards Bailey, and a man came by and hit the constable, and the constable hit the man in the neck and shoved him against the shutters and ran after Bailey, who ran up one street and down another—I did not run with him; my cab was standing at the corner—I saw Bailey go through the Old Fountain—two constables took Bailey into custody for nothing, as far as I could see—I did not see anything of the alleged robbery—I did not see Thompson—I did not see the prosecutor fall down on the tram rails, or knocked to the ground by four men—a crowd gathered round us.
Cross-examined. I live at 4, Prover Street, City Road—I gave the address, 13, Curzon Street, at the Police-court because I thought I had to give the old address on my license—I had lived at 13, Curzon Street—it was an ordinary fight that I saw—I did not see Bailey arrested; I saw him in custody—when the constable came Bailey ran away—I did not speak to the constable when Bailey was in custody—I did not say the man did nothing, because I had my cab to attend to—I went to the Police-court the second week—the man's wife came round to me.
CHARLOTTE WHITE . I sell clothes in the streets—I was coming home from work about seven, and I went into the Fountain to have a glass of beer with a friend, and I saw the prosecutor with a woman—I went home—I came out again about eleven to get some supper for my children—I saw the prosecutor coming down Peley Street quite drunk, and he ran against Bailey, who was outside the public-house—they started fighting; they fell, got up, and had another fight, and then I saw the constable come, and I did not stay to see any more, but went home—I did not see Thompson there—I did not know Bailey; he is a perfect stranger to me.
Cross-examined. I never went to the Police-station—I don't know Thompson—I made no statement—I did not go and inquire what had become of Bailey—the prosecutor merely pushed against Bailey, he did not strike him.
Bailey in his defence stated that the prosecutor only charged him with robbery with violence after the constable asked if he had lost anything, and he had counted his money, and that the constable on the way to the station said he would have him this time, and knocked him on the back of his head.
Thompson in his defence stated that the prosecutor failed to identify him at the Police-station.
GUILTY .—BAILEY then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in May, 1893, and THOMPSON** to one in July, 1890. Twenty previous convictions were proved against Bailey.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and Ten Strokes until the Cat each.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, January 11th, 1894.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
For other cases tried in this Court see Surrey cases.
NEW COURT.—Thursday,. January 11th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Discharged on Recognizances.
MESSRS. BESLEY and GILL Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE appeared for Norton, and MR. H. AVORY and MR. GEOGHEGAN for Fisher.
FREDERICK WILLIAM JEROME BRIGHT . I am cashier at the National Provincial Bank of England, St. James's branch, Piccadilly—Mr. Joseph Thompson, the bookmaker, has an account there, and cheques are signed by the firm in the name of Joseph Thompson—this cheque, dated September 12th, was presented by Ada Fenn—it is on the London and County Bank, Henrietta Street branch, and endorsed, "Joseph Thompson"—I treated it as cash, and paid cash for it, to oblige our customer—we should collect the money from the drawer—the signature is very good—I paid the cheque with £50 notes, Nos. 46334 to 46339, dated February 17th, 1893, and five £10 notes, and the rest in cash, at her request—that was on September 15th—the cheque was sent to be cleared, and was returned marked "No account."
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. It was not presented for three days after it was drawn—two persons sign cheques, Mr. Hart and Mr. Thompson,
but they both sign "Joseph Thompson"—they each have their own way of signing, you cannot mistake one for the other.
HENRY HART . I am in partnership with Joseph Thompson, as turf commission agents—there is one banking account, and we both sign Joseph Thompson—the endorsement to this cheque is not my writing—I do not know either the drawer or the payee—I have seen Fisher at our office, but have not had personal transactions with him; I only make out the cheques—I made out cheque "C" on the day it bears date in favour of Fisher for £30 12s. 6d.—I think I had sent a cheque to Fisher before that—in my judgment the endorsement of the forged cheque "A" has been traced from the signature to cheque "C"—if you take the tracing "Joseph" first, and then shift the paper you get the other; there would not be room to do it any other way—I have examined considerably more than twenty-three cheques—these (produced) are all genuine signatures—I have satisfied myself that the tracing is from the one genuine signature "C"—I have tried it with forty others, but it will only fit cheque "C."
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. We sometimes send out only three or four cheques a week, and sometimes twenty—I sent out this cheque on September 11th—if the St. Leger was run on the 6th, the Monday afterwards, the 11th, would be the settling day—I have a doubt about it—Isinglass won; he was a strong favourite, and bookmakers had to pay—I sent out eleven cheques, and paid a large sum in cash—it is possible that forty or fifty customers have regular accounts with me—we settle in Jermyn Street—I do not know Norton; I saw him in the office once—the signature was traced by two operations to get it into the space, or it would not have gone in—I have measured it—there would have been no difficulty in writing it a little slanter, but perhaps they would not think of it.
JOSEPH THOMPSON . I am in partnership with the last witness as turf commission agents—this "Joseph Thompson" on cheque "A" is an imitation of my partner's writing—we both signed "Joseph Thompson" to our bankers—I do not know Norton personally.
BARNETT SAMUEL THOMPSON . I assist my brother at Jermyn Street—Mr. Slavin introduced Norton to me, and I did some business with him, but never sent him a cheque—I have had some transactions with Fisher, and I think this cheque for £30 12s. 6d. was the first cheque I sent him—I have seen Norton and Fisher together two or three times.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I have never sent Norton a cheque, and never gave him one.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Fisher has done business with us three or four months—he has won some money from me—I have given him three or four cheques—I very likely sent him a cheque for £300 on 26th September, and if it is down there, one for £49 15s. 6d. on October 4th—Slavin keeps the Rose Public-house, but he did not introduce me to Norton there—my business place is in the same street—on an average I send out twenty cheques in a week.
ADA FENN . I live at 9, Hugh Street, Eccleston Square—I met Norton in Hyde Park last April—I was then out of a situation, and was staying with friends—he spoke to me, and took a room for me, and after a time I got employment—he asked me to take a cheque to the London
Joint Stock Bank, Lombard Street—I did so, but did not succeed in getting it cashed—after that he asked me to cash a cheque at the New South Wales Bank; I got the money, and gave it to him—after that he gave me this cheque, payable to Miss Selwin, who, he said, was a lady owing him some money—he told me what notes to ask for, and to write Miss Selwin's name on the back of the cheque, which I did—he waited for me in Piccadilly while I cashed it, and I gave him the £375—I afterwards went to Hoare's Bank, Fleet Street, with a cheque, but did not succeed in getting the money—the next was Cox's Bank, Charing Cross; I did not succeed there—I did not go to any other bank—when he took the room for me, while I was out of a situation, he sometimes gave me a sovereign, sometimes more, sometimes less—he knew where I got employment—I asked him to give me his address that I might repay him, but he refused—he told me he was a diamond dealer—no improper relations existed between us at any time—when he said that Miss Selwin owed him money I believed him—I was arrested in regard to this matter, and then saw Norton in custody, and identified him—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. When I met him I was homeless, and he befriended me—he partially supported me; he certainly helped me, but I had friends who I went to see—I was not many weeks before I got a situation—he gave me money to get a room, and afterwards he took a room for me—it was some weeks after I met him that I went to the first bank; that was the London Joint Stock—I do not remember writing anybody else's name on that cheque—I was there about ten minutes—they did not give me the money—they let me go—my age was twenty-three when I met Norton in the Park—I do not remember writing a false name on the cheque and giving a false address at the bank; I might have—I did not know it was wrong; I had never had a cheque in my life before—I know it was wrong, but I don't remember doing it—when Norton gave me the cheque I asked him if it was all right, and I had no suspicion that anything was wrong—the second cheque was on the New South Wales Bank, Old Broad Street—I got the money in that case—as far as I remember it was £350—I wrote somebody's name on it—after that, when he came to me with another cheque, I did not suspect there was anything wrong, because he told me he would see into it—it was at his suggestion that I wrote somebody else's name at the back; I did not know it was wrong—that is as true as the rest I have said—I got the money in that case—I was not in business at the time of the second cheque; I was being partly supported by Norton and partly by my friends—they did not know that I was living in rooms taken by Norton; I had taken rooms myself in Montpellier Road, and my lady friends visited me there—the room he took for me was at 9, Hugh Street—the next bank was the National Provincial—I asked him if all was right—he said, "Yes"—I did not exactly suspect anything was wrong, but it was usual for me to ask if it was all right—I hesitated about the first cheque till it was explained to me—I did not think my signing a false name was wrong after it was explained to me—on the day after I gave him the proceeds of the cheque he gave me £20—I was in business about three months, but I saw him sometimes—I told him I did not wish to see him any more shortly after I went into business, but I asked him
to give me his address—that was before I changed the cheque at the National Provincial—after I went into business I offered to send him two shillings a week if he would give me his address—that was some time after I got the £20—after I left my situation I went to the place where I am now, in Hugh Street—when he took that room for me he gave me a little money every week—he has not given me £150 altogether or a quarter of that—I know a man named Chester, while I knew Norton, but not at Hugh Street—he did not help me—I did not get the money for the cheque at Hoare's—it did not occur to me to ask him why he did not go himself to cash these cheques—I was taken in custody and remanded three times—on the morning of the 22nd I made a statement to my solicitor, Mr. Crawshaw, who said it would be better for me if I told all about it—I was discharged, and went into the witness-box without leaving the Court—I said nothing about any bank at Charing Cross—after my first examination Inspector Marshall took me to Charing Cross—he did not point out Cox's Bank to me; I pointed it out to him—I knew where I was going, but I did not know the name of the place—he did not stop opposite the bank; we went to the solicitor first, Mr. Floodgate, at Cox's Bank, and he went with us—Inspector Marshall and I did not converse about this case on our way to Cox's—I had clothes At my friend's when I met Norton in Hyde Park.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I had never seen Fisher in my life till I saw him in the dock at Bow Street.
Re-examined. I never got money from any bank except the London Joint Stock and the National Provincial, and there was a long time between them—I believed that Miss Selwin owed him money, and had given him authority to put her name on the back of the cheque—when I was accused of it I simply said that I had been to the National Provincial, and got £375—except the £20 I never received from Norton more than a sovereign at a time—I did not suspect that the £20 was the proceeds of a forgery.
ELEANOR POSHNICK , I live at 22, Princes Street, Hanover Square—Fisher stayed at my house a little while in the name of Brooker—the prisoner Norton visited him, and Fisher gave instructions that Norton was to be shown up to the room whenever he called, or to walk up.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. He only had one room—a woman took it the day before in the name of Brooker, and he lived with her—I understood he was her husband; she was recommended to me by her former landlady—she was there about a fortnight, but Fisher only lived with her five days—she came first—Norton came several times; he dined there on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but not afterwards, as Brooker left on Thursday—they all three dined together.
Re-examined. When Fisher left on Thursday he did not say where he was going, or tell me that Norton had been taken in custody on Wednesday—Mrs. Brooker stayed till the 7th.
EMMA HOLDLEY . I live at 31, Augusta Street, Regent's Park—Fisher lived at my house for a time in the name of Brooker—I have not seen Norton there, only his back, but I heard Mrs. Brooker call him Norton—when he left me he went to Mrs. Poshnick's.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I saw him once or twice, but only
his back—before I saw his face I was quite sure when the detective came that the man I was going to see was Norton.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I am not prepared to say that Fisher slept there more than once—I let him in that night, and he slept with Mrs. Brooker—the man whose back I saw called to see Mrs. Brooker.
Re-examined. He brought his portmanteau there, and he had his breakfast there once or twice, but I. had nothing to do with that—his luggage remained there till he went to Mrs. Poshnick's.
FRANZE HUBERT HAAS . I live at Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury—I have known Fisher about twelve years, and have had business transactions with him—he owed me about £30 last September, and on September 12th he gave me cheque "C"—I paid it into my bank.
Cross-examined. I have dealt with him for some years in jewellery on sale or return—he may have paid me once or twice as much as £200 in a week—he took the jewellery about and sold it wherever he could—he had some connection among racing men—this cheque is for £30 12s. 6d.—I received it about eleven a.m. on September 12th—I know that Fisher sold a watch and chain and pin to Norton, which Norton paid him for.
Re-examined. That was about two months ago—I was present when payment was made in the bar of the Horseshoe—I had nothing to do with writing anything.
THOMAS HENRY GUERREN . I have practised as an expert in handwriting about ten years—I have compared the signature of the drawer of cheque "C" with that of the endorser of "A"—cheque "C" was used, for the purpose of writing the endorsement on "A"—I made a tracing of both signatures, and placed one on the other, and found that the word "Joseph" in each case exactly corresponded—the word "Thompson" did not correspond, the signature being longer than the other; but I noticed that if the tracing had been complete it would have gone over the end of the cheque—I moved the tracing a little just to "Thomp," which corresponded exactly, but the "son" did not exactly correspond, because there was not room, and my opinion is that those three last letters were copied, and not traced; I then put one over the other, with glass behind with a light, and found the same result as with my tracing—by sliding my tracing I find there is a diminution of the space—I believe the endorsement of the £375 cheque was traced from the £30 cheque—I have been supplied with Mr. Hart's undoubted signature on twenty-three cheques taken promiscuously, and it could not be taken from any of them.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. My opinion is that the endorsement on the cheque up to the "p" in Thompson, is a tracing from the cheque for £30—it might be traced from any other if you had one just like it, but I should expect to see a difference, according to the conditions under which the person was placed—I infer that it is a tracing, because it corresponds line for line—an expert forger does not make the signature exact, because it would lead to his discovery at once; it is absolutely impossible for anyone to sign a signature twice alike, consequently, if you find a signature which actually corresponds with another, one of them is a forgery—a man might imitate a signature by accurate copying and measuring distances with glasses—my reason for saying that this is not a copy, but a tracing, is that it actually corresponds up to the letter "p" in "Thompson"—I cannot say that it corresponds exactly, because
if the paper does not allow the light to come through absolutely, one might deviate in a line or a letter—whether it is a copy or a tracing I expect to find differences—the more expert the forger the fewer differences I should find—I think a clever forger would not like to copy too close, because he would approach the ground of a fac-simile; he would introduce some little varieties—if it was exactly like, and I was the bank clerk, I would not cash it—there are very slight differences in the word Joseph; the "o" fits absolutely over the other—looked at separately, there is a difference in the top of the "o"—there is a dash under the signature of Joseph Thompson; they do not correspond, they are a different length altogether—the difference in the length of the signature is rather more than necessary—I had to move the paper back rather more than one-eighth of an inch—supposing anybody had traced the signature in the £30 cheque, there would be no difficulty in tracing it if it was put a little slanting—the "n" in "Thompson," instead of finishing with a curve, goes downwards—the letters "son" are all different, and in my opinion they were not traced, but copied; they are differently formed—there must have been three different operations, forging or tracing, of "Joseph," then of "Thomp" and then of "son"—it would not have been as easy to trace the "son" instead of copying it, because it would have gone over the side of the cheque, and therefore the end of the "n" is turned downwards—if a person was tracing, his object would be to make it all alike—I think the object of making a different "n" to finish with was to get more room—I think the "n" would not have gone on—in the £30 cheque the "n" is turned up, and in the endorsement it turns down and then up.
CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Note Department, Bank of England—I produce a cancelled £50 note, No. 46338, February 17th, 1893—I mark them when they are cancelled—it came from the London and Westminster Bank on September 10th.
CHARLES ARTHUR WELDON QUIRK . I am employed in the London and Westminster Bank, St. James's Square—Mr. Robert Lindsay has an Account there—I received this £50 note from him on December 5th—it would go to our head office, and get to the Bank of England about the 20th.
ROBERT LINDSAY . I am a chartered accountant, of Queen Victoria Street—I have had business transactions with Mr. Redhead from time to time—I do not know what he is—about September 16th or 17th he paid me a £50 note and two twenties and two fives—I paid them all in to my account at the London and Westminster Bank, St. James's Square.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I never saw the man before or since—neither of the prisoners gave me the note.
Re-examined. I do not know the prisoners—I did not notice the persons who were with the man—I was very busy—the man gave me a £50 note, and I could not give him the change till after the race.
Sergeant Nicholls, of the Metropolitan Police; there have been several bank forgeries in London during the past two months, and two men and a woman are in custody for the same. One of the men is a companion of yours named George Watson, and you are suspected of being concerned in the same; you must go with me to Handsworth Police-station"—he did so—I showed him a cheque, and said, "I believe you are in the habit of betting with a man named Thompson?"—he said, "I am"—I said, "Is this a cheque you received from him, and is this your endorsement?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I believe you let Norton have possession of this cheque before it was cashed?"—he said, "Yes; what if I did?"—I said, "I believe this is the cheque which the forged one was manufactured from, and Norton and the woman are in custody for obtaining £375 on this cheque, and you will be charged with being concerned in that"—he said, "I have been shopped by a woman, but it is your place to prove it"—I found on him four £5 Bank of England notes—he said, "I got them from the London and County Bank"—I arrested Norton on Wednesday, 29th November, about nine p.m.—I knew him as George Montague, and spoke to him in that name—Inspector Marshall charged him—I found on him notes to the value of £155.
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. I found some gold and silver on Fisher, as well as the four £5 Bank of England notes—I inquired about them and ascertained that they had been received by him from his own bank—I found his own cheque-book on him—there is a great deal of jewellery trading at Birmingham—just before I arrested him I had been to a shop in Handsworth kept by a woman, not to inquire for him, but I was making inquiries—I did not see him go into that shop—I arrested him at a cottage which stands back in a garden, quite a hundred yards off; not in the same street, but in a lane which turns out of the street—he did not tell me that he knew I had been into that shop inquiring—the officer with me was inquiring about Mr. Brooks, who is the person I expected to find Fisher with—we went to the shop to see if we could gather anything—we saw a man and a woman there—Mr. Justice Hawkins asked me yesterday, in the other Court, what business I had to question prisoners when I have gone to arrest them—I said that I and the inspector who accompanied me intended to arrest the man if he was in a fit state to leave the hospital—I have no explanation to give of examining a man who I intended to arrest—I was never told till yesterday that the Judges objected to it, and I never heard it before, that I remember—I wrote these notes an hour or two after Fisher was arrested; they purport to be a narrative of my evidence, not notes of what Fisher said; it is a proof, which I have drawn up for myself, of the evidence I was going to give—Fisher was not rather impertinent in his manner to me, or cheeky, but he did not seem inclined to come—I saw no sign of his being annoyed at my questioning him—he did not seem nasty about answering it; he did not say "What if I did?" in rather a nasty way—I was not doing all this to try and get some admission out of him to use against him—I simply gave him the facts which I was going to arrest him for—I did not know what explanation he would give; any explanation he might have given I should have arrested him—Inspector Marshall had directed me to question him about the cheque; I swear that—I had no conversation at all with the woman in the shop; the other officer had—he asked in my presence where
Brooks was—that was to assist me in arresting Fisher—I arrested him just before twelve; he had not gone to bed, he was fully dressed—I had searched the house forty minutes before arrested him—I saw a figure I knew to be him go to the cottage, and I followed him in; he came from the direction of the shop to which I had been shortly before.
Re-examined I received instructions on the 17th at the Police-court to look for Fisher while the case was proceeding—I went to Birmingham from the Police-court to find him and arrest him, and ask him for an explanation about the £30 cheque, which I took down—he said, "I have been shopped by a woman "—he did not say, "by the woman at the shop"—I know the expression "shopped."
HENRY MARSHALL (Police Inspector E). This matter was placed in my hands—I knew of Norton's arrest on the 29th November—I had arrested young Mr. Blunt on the same day—I was at the station when the girl Fenn was there, and Norton, and the charge was made of uttering a cheque for £375—when Fenn was brought to the station, in Norton's presence she exclaimed, "That is the man I got the cheque from!"—Norton said nothing—she had not then been put on the charge-sheet—she afterwards went with me and pointed out some bank.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I did not hear somebody say, "Is that the man?" and hear her reply, "Yes"—I do not disagree with her about that—I did not hear anyone say, "Is that the man?" pointing to Norton; I think my account is correct—she was hysterical and crying—her account may be correct that someone said, "Is that the man?"
Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. Before I sent Nicholls to Birmingham, I had ascertained that Fisher had received this £30 cheque; I had got it in my possession—I knew that Fisher had received it from Mr. Thompson—it is not true that I instructed Nicholls to question Fisher about the cheque—I gave him instructions to make inquiries, and if the inquiries justified it he was to arrest him; we were not absolutely certain that he was there.
Re-examined. I knew that Fisher had received the cheque—I did not know Fisher's endorsement—I had no other knowledge except that the cheque ought to have reached him.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Re-examined). An officer of the Birmingham Police at Handsworth was present when I arrested Fisher and heard the conversation—he is not here—I heard the Magistrate say that we had better get him, and I told Inspector Marshall.
F. H. HAAS (Re-examined). Fisher never told me that he went to Birmingham to sell the jewellery; he said he went to the country.
By MR. BESLEY. I did not see Mrs. Brooker; I did not know that Fisher was lodging with her, he was lodging in Shaftesbury Avenue—I had no knowledge of the address which he gave; I did not know him as Brooker.
HENRY MARSHALL (Re-examined). Nicholls did not toll me that Sir John Bridge said that the officer from Birmingham should be present; but he said so himself, and the solicitor said he did not think it necessary—Mrs. Brooker was arrested, and was discharged.
GUILTY .—Both prisoners then PLEADED GUILTY to having been previously convicted. Fisher at Lewes, on 29th June, 1885, and Norton at this Court, on 22nd October, 1888. Several other convictions were proved against them, and as to Norton several sentences of penal servitude. FISHER— Four Years' Penal Servitude. NORTON— Ten Years' Penal Servitude , each to pay the costs of the prosecution, and £100 compensation to the bankers. The COURT and the GRAND JURY commended the conduct of the police.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, January 11th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PURCELL Prosecuted and MR. A. GILL Defended.
JOHN WORTHEM . I am a clerk in the bankruptcy department of the High Court of Justice—I produce the file of proceedings in the prisoner's bankruptcy—his petition was filed on 9th April, 1890; his adjudication was on 14th April—the statement of affairs discloses liabilities £11,173 14s. 10d., and assets £213 15s.—application for order of discharge was made on 28th November, 1890, and suspended for two years till 28th November, 1892—he would then have got his discharge by applying for his certificate; but he has not applied—he could get it at any moment.
Cross-examined. He has been entitled to the certificate since 28th November, 1892—there has been no order of the Bankruptcy Court to prosecute in this case.
MINNIE TRUSCOTT . In October, 1891, I was employed as book-keeper to Mr. Evans, butcher, of High Street, Kensington—the prisoner came there for meat—his address was 47, Cornwall Gardens—we first began to serve him on October 15th, 1891; he called then to open an account, saying he wanted us to supply him with meat—he asked what credit we gave, whether it was weekly or monthly; I said either—the usual customer's book was prepared and sent to his house—I afterwards saw him at the shop, and at his house—we called for orders, but he came to the shop on several occasions—between October, 1891, and April, 1892, we supplied him with meat—when the account was going on I called frequently at his house—I always saw him—he paid £10 off the account in January, £5 in February, and £5 odd in March—in April £71 was owing—when I called about eight or nine times for payment he each time promised to pay—letters were written to him; I received these from him, and I spoke to him about them afterwards. (The first of these letters stated that the account would be attended to next week; the second stated that he hoped to come to some arrangement with Mr. Evans next week for the payment of his account.)—he never told me that he was an undischarged bankrupt—I had no idea of it—this is one of the books we supplied him with.
Cross-examined. I knew Miss Wallington—I did not know that she was manager of the house 47, Cornwall Gardens—I cannot say if most of the orders came through her—sometimes she called and gave orders—when the account was opened both she and the prisoner came together—I think I have said that before—I don't remember saying
Before the Magistrate, "She opened the account in the defendant's name; she said she had his authority to do so"—I said, "I did not know that she was Miss Wellington. All orders Miss Wellington gave I regarded as given on behalf of the defendant"—I saw the prisoner several times before March, 1892—I could not remember how many times; I will swear it was more than three—I said before the Magistrate, "The defendant came once or twice and ordered"—my recollection of names and dates after this lapse of time is not very strong; it is a large business, and I cannot remember one individual—I called and saw the prisoner before March and April—he called at the shop and changed cheques, and gave orders himself several times—I do not know Mr. Coburn—I was paid in cash for the goods obtained by the prisoner between March 17th and March 25th—this is the bill, but that money was received on account—£5 Os. 1 1/2 d. is the exact amount of goods received during that time, but it was on account—he came and bought the goods and said he would settle the other amount—I drew his attention to the amount owing, and he promised to pay—he did not dispute his liability—we were also paid for what was ordered the ensuing week, between March 17th and 30th, but that was on account—the prisoner told me when I called about the money that Miss Wellington had left—he said she had left on 16th March—after the beginning of April no more goods were obtained because I refused further credit, and he then promised to pay at the beginning of June—I do not remember when he left Cornwall Gardens—he was not to be seen at his house for three months afterwards—I called and saw the servant once or twice, and on another occasion the house was shut up—I do not remember the date of that.
Re-examined. In April we ceased serving him, and then I went to 47, Cornwall Gardens—the house was furnished and open then—when the £5 was paid in March he owed about £60—the prisoner asked me what credit we gave about a week after we began serving him—he had about £12 or £15 a month; it was well over a month before £20 was owing—the ledger, which I kept, is here—his account began on 26th October—it came to about £3 or £3 10s. a week—on 4th January he paid £10, and on 5th January the account was £21 6s. 9d.
Cross-examined. I was first informed of that by a gentleman who called on me in November—he recommended me to go to Messrs. Edmunds and Edmunds, solicitors, and they afterwards advised me to instruct Mr. Howard to prosecute, and he is solicitor for the prosecution now.
ALFRED BROWN (Detective, Sergeant F). Shortly after five p.m. on 22nd December I saw the prisoner at 70, Bishopsgate Street Within, and told him I was a police-officer, and was going to arrest him on a warrant for fraudulent bankruptcy—this is the warrant, dated 15th December—I read it to him; it is for obtaining goods and concealing the fact that he was an undischarged bankrupt—he said, "I never did that; that is wrong. I know nothing about it"—I took him in a cab to Kensington Police station—the charge; was read to him by the inspector—he said, "That is a lie."
MR. GILL requested that the prisoner might be allowed to make a statement to the JURY.
The COMMON SERJEANT consenting, the prisoner read a statement to the effect that when he took over the boarding-house at 47, Cornwall Gardens, he engaged Miss Wallington as housekeeper, to take entire management of the home, and have the ordering of goods and control of servants; that he allowed her £10 a week out of the receipts for the first five boarders, of whom he was one, and £1 a week for each additional boarder, and that he wrote her a letter (a press copy of which was produced and read) in which the terms of her engagement were set out, and in which he impressed on her that no accounts must be opened with trades people, but that cash must be paid; that he did not know that any account over £10 was being run until application was made for a number of accounts, when Miss Wallington confessed that she had lent money from time to time to a boarder named Coburn, out of housekeeping money, and had been unable to settle some accounts which she said were in her name.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN HAMMER . I live at 17, Telegraph Street—I was formerly a boarder at 47, Cornwall Gardens—I went there in June or July, 1891, when the house was kept by Mrs. Hall, the prisoner's mother-in-law—I remember Miss Wallington coming as manageress—I never saw the prisoner taking any part in the management—I paid four guineas a week for my wife and myself to Mrs. Hall, and later on to the prisoner—very soon after Miss Wallington came Mr. Coburn came to stop—he went in February.
Cross-examined. The prisoner always sat at the head of the table, and sometimes carved—sometimes Mr. Coburn carved—I do not think I took a receipt from the prisoner; Mrs. Hall did not want to give receipts—the prisoner took over the house from her; I thought he had succeeded her in the business.
Re-examined. Mrs. Caroline Easton and Colonel Randal lodged there.
JOSEPH DAWER JEFFERYS . I now live at Queen Anne's Mansions—in January, 1892, in consequence of an advertisement, signed "Mrs. W.," I went to 47, Cornwall Gardens, and saw Miss Wallington, and I became a boarder there from early in February to July, I believe—I paid Miss Wallington, until she was taken ill, by these cheques made out to her—I paid at the rate of two guineas a week—used to leave money for my washing on my dressing-table, and then the bill or book was generally receipted—after Miss Wallington left, my washing was not returned, and I spoke to the prisoner about it, and after some difficulty I got my washing, and then the prisoner informed me that my washing had not been paid for, although I had left money out—I understood Miss Wallington was the lady housekeeper, and I looked to her; she did all the household business, and whenever I wanted a discussion about anything, I went to her—the prisoner went to business every morning, I understood I, and came back in the evening—I never aw him except at dinner time—he took one end of the table, and Miss Wallington the other.
ERNEST CHARLES MERCER . I am a clerk in the employment of Cox and Co., bankers, 15, Charing Cross—Colonel Randal was a customer in February and March, 1892—I produce a certified copy of an extract from
his account—I find cheques for £3 14s. every week payable to Miss Wallington and debited to Colonel Randal's account.
NOT GUILTY .
186. FREDERICK McLOCKLEY(25), and JOHN SMITH(22) , Stealing a letter, two pieces of paper, and a banker's cheque for £16 16s. 10d., the property of Walter Willis and others. Second Count, receiving the same.
MESSRS. H. C. RICHARDS and SOPER Prosecuted, and MR. DRAKE
HARRY BEAUCHAMP CARTWRIGHT . I am a clerk in holy orders, and one of the assistant clergy of Hythe, Kent—I signed this cheque, and sent it with this letter to Messrs. Jones and Willis, 43, Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, on 29th November, as far as I can remember—I posted it myself about one—I did not write this endorsement on the cheque, nor this "Willis Brothers" across the letter—the cheque is payable to the order of Willis Brothers.
JAMES JOSEPH FOX . I am an overseer in the General Post Office—a letter posted at Hythe in the middle of the day would be delivered at Jones and Willis's between seven and eight p.m. the same day—that is not the last delivery there.
HUBERT WILLIAM LLOYD .—I am cashier to Messrs. Jones and Willis—the firm consists of Walter Willis and other gentlemen—this letter and cheque never reached me—I received a communication on a Friday at the end of November or beginning of December, which caused me to examine our letter-box—I found a lot of sticky substance on the opening where the letters would be put in—this endorsement, and this writing, "Willis Brothers," on the letter are not the writing of any member of our firm—cheques are usually made payable to Willis Brothers, but we trade as Jones and Willis.
THOMAS STEVENS . I am a police-constable, of Kent, stationed at Hythe—on 1st December I received a communication from the Metropolitan Police, in consequence of which I communicated with the bank authorities, and had the London and County Bank at Hythe watched, and then I watched the arrival of a certain train—I first saw the prisoners at a quarter to three p.m. on 1st December coming towards the bank—Smith made a momentary halt at the bank, and looked at the brass plate outside—they then passed on for about fifteen yards—I gave a signal, and they were arrested—they were taken to the White Hart and searched—on Smith I found a cheque and letter in his overcoat pocket—I told them I charged them jointly with stealing a cheque from London—they made no reply—when I was about to handcuff Smith he said, "There is no occasion to put those cuffs on me; we don't require them, as we will walk "—I placed the handcuffs on them, and drove them in a cab to Sandgate—while on the way to the station McLockley, who gave me the name of Williams, said, "I only came down here for a holiday. My friend here came with me to return to the owner a cheque, which we had picked up in a tobacco-pouch in the street"—in the reception room at the station I released McLockley's hands first, and while I was taking the belt off Smith's wrist he said to me, in a sort of stage whisper, "This will be a very good thing for you"—I said, "Why so, are you into it?"—I meant by that "Are you guilty?"—he said, "Yes"—if it is of any
benefit to me it will be a few hours' extra duty—I have not seen the prisoners since till now.
Cross-examined. Hythe is a seaside resort, and people often go there to get change of air and a holiday—I saw the prisoners about 2.45—I was not alone—the bank is about a mile from the station—I saw them first in High Street, Hythe, about 100 yards from the bank—I at once saw the prisoners were strangers to Hythe—I let them go by me, and they had gone about fifteen yards past the bank before I spoke to them—Smith hesitated at the bank and looked at the brass plate—they did not exactly pull up for any length of time—they had not turned when we arrested them—there were three of us; one constable took hold of both prisoners—McLockley tried to wriggle round the corner—I mentioned that to a gentleman from the Post Office in a statement I made to him; I think he put down what I told him—the prisoners walked quietly to the White Hart—three constables were with them—the prisoners objected to being searched at the White Hart; they resisted the taking off of their overcoats—I saw McLockley searched, and saw nothing found on him in connection with this charge—he had close upon £7 in his possession—Smith did not, when I went to take his coat off, tell me he had a letter and cheque, and offer to give it up to me—I took it out of his pocket; he did not offer it to me and tell me what he was going to do with it—I daresay two or three minutes elapsed from the time we entered the White Hart till the time I took his coat off—in the fly he said he came to give the cheque to the owner—McLockley was standing by during the time we were searching Smith—McLockley did not say he had advised Smith to come down, and that he would get some recompense—I never heard a word about recompense—it was when I was going to handcuff Smith in the White Hart that he said he would walk—I found no envelope.
ALFRED WARD (Detective E). In consequence of information received, I went with McCarthy to Hythe on 2nd December—I saw the prisoners, and said to them, "We are police officers from London; you will be charged with stealing a letter containing a cheque for £16 16s. 10d. from a letter-box in the front door of 43, Great Russell Street, some time during Thursday night"—Smith said, "I found the letter containing the cheque in Farringdon Road on Thursday night about half-past nine, in a tobacco-pouch, and at eleven o'clock to-day I met my friend (indicating McLockley) in Piccadilly, and I showed him the cheque, and we both came down here intending to give it in at the bank"—McLockley said, "I told him to bring it back, and have nothing to do with it; we thought it would be a little excursion for us, and both came down here together; but before we got to the bank we were stopped by the police"—I had the cheque and letter in my hand at the time; I had received them from Superintendent Waghorn—I showed the cheque to the prisoners—Smith said, "One of the policemen put his hand into my inside coat pocket and pulled out the cheque and letter; we were then told we would be detained "—we conveyed them to Bow Street—they made no reply to the charge there.
Cross-examined. I took that statement down on the evening of the day it was made, on my return to London some hours after—Smith said, We came down here, intending to give it to the bank," not "intending
to give it to the owner"—I am positive about it—I and McCarthy brought the prisoners back—we four were in the railway carriage alone—I could hear everything that was said—McCarthy sat on the same side of the carriage as the prisoners, and I sat on the other side—I heard a portion of the statement made by Smith to McLockley, "Which night did I say we found it, Wednesday or Thursday? Which day was it?"—and then McCarthy turned to me and said, "They don't know which night they found it"—I omitted to say it at the Police-court; I overlooked it—Smith said, "One of the constables put his hand into my pocket and took money out."
JOHN MCCARTHY (Detective E). I was with Ward at Hythe on 2nd December, and I travelled to town with the two prisoners—in the train Smith said to McLockley in an undertone, "What day did I say I found it, Wednesday or Thursday?"—McLockley replied, "You said? 'Thursday.'"
Cross-examined. I did not give evidence at the Police-court; I was there—I made a statement to Mr. Stevens, who instructed the solicitor to that effect—I wrote down the words at once in the train—I didn't think Ward heard it, and I said, "They don't know what day they said."
JOSEPH GEORGE STEVENS . I am a clerk in the secretary's office of the General Post Office—I have seen McLockley write—the last two lines of this paper (produced) are in his writing; they were written in my presence on 20th October last—I have daily experience of comparison of hand-writing; it is part of my business in that department—in my opinion the diagonal writing, "Willis Brothers," on the letter is in McLockley's writing; the endorsement on the cheque corresponds with the second writing "Willis Brothers" on the letter, and we believe that to be in Smith's writing—the endorsement on the cheque is not in McLockley's writing.
GUILTY . (See page 238.)
MESSRS. H. C. RICHARDS and SOPER Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended Mack, and MR. DRAKE Defended McLockley.
GEORGE COOK . I live at 88, Market Street, St. Andrews, N. B.—on 16th August, at six or seven p.m., I posted six postal orders to Mr. Howard, of 43, Farringdon Road, E. C.—I filled in the name of E. Howard as payee.
JAMES JOSEPH FOX . I am an overseer of the General Post Office—a letter posted at St. Andrews between six and seven p.m. would be delivered at Farringdon Road the following evening, the last delivery, about nine p.m.
JOHN THEOBALD . I trade as Howard, at 43, Farringdon Road—I advertise largely—I did not receive these postal orders from Mr. Cook, of St. Andrews—this is not my signature, or that of any of my employees or partners—in August my attention was called to the state of my letter-box, and I found a quantity of gummy, sticky stuff' inside the box on, several occasions, near the opening, and at the bottom and side of the box.
August last I was in the employment of Messrs. Winter, drapers, of Goodge Street, Tottenham Court Road—I have seen the prisoners there as customers—in August McLockley gave me a postal order for 20s. in payment for something she bought—Miss Jeffreys was standing by my side—I gave it to Mr. Taylor, the shop-walker, who, in my presence, asked McLockley to put her name on the back—I believe a woman who was with her signed it—I knew Mack as a customer, but I cannot Bay if she was with McLockley then—I took the order to the pay-desk.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE.—I don't know which one signed—I don't think McLockley did; I believe it was the woman with her.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I knew Mack well as a customer; she was often there—Mr. Taylor walked the shop at meal times only—he would know the regular customers—to most of the persons in the shop Mack was known as a regular customer—I heard someone say McLockley said, "I cannot write," but I don't remember it.
ALICE JEFFREYS . In August I was in the employment of Messrs. Winter, of Goodge Street—I saw the prisoners come in between a quarter to one and a quarter-past two; I was standing close to the counter where Miss Leach was—McLockley handed a postal order to Miss Leach, who looked at the order—McLockley said, "It is all right, miss; my father is a chimney sweeper; he often has these orders sent to him"—Miss Leach took the order to Mr. Taylor, and brought it back, and the shop-walker came to have it written on—one or other of the prisoners, I am not sure which, signed the order; one of them said, "I cannot write, you do it," or words to that effect—I am quite sure the prisoners are the two women.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. I Cannot say whether I told the Magistrate that McLockley said her father was a chimney sweeper, and he often had these orders sent him—I thought it important—I forgot it before the Magistrate—I have talked to Miss Leech and Mr. Taylor about this; they asked me no questions—I think it was McLockley who said, "I cannot write."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I knew Mack as a customer; she would be well known to most of the persons serving in the shop—I am not quite certain whether McLockley, who handed the note, signed it—I think McLockley said, "I cannot write," I am not certain.
HENRY WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am manager of the drapery department at Messrs. Winters'—I walk the shop at meal times—I know both prisoners well; I have seen them in the shop—this postal order was brought to me by Miss Leach to see if we could change it—it is not endorsed—I gave her certain instructions—I cannot say it I spoke to the prisoners then—they made some objection to endorsing it; I said unless it was endorsed we could not change it—when it was signed Miss Leach passed it through the desk—it has passed through our bankers in the regular way.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. I did not see who endorsed it.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. It would be paid into our bank the next day—I have frequently seen Mack in our shop; I knew her as a customer.
Post Office, to 15, Upper Rathbone Place, where I saw McLockley—she lived there—she knew me from my having visited the place before—she was shown this postal order for 20s., endorsed "E. Howard"—I said, "You answer the description of one of two women who cashed the order at Messrs. Winters', drapers, Goodge Street"—she looked at it and said, "I know nothing about it. I never saw it before. I can neither read nor write. I have never been to Winters' in my life. I buy my things in the Tottenham Court Road"—I called her attention to the name of "E. Howard"; she said she could not read—she said, "If you take me to Winters' you will find no one there knows me"—we went to Winters', where she was seen by Jeffreys and Taylor, and identified by both of them—I said to her, "You are identified as the woman who brought this order, and had it cashed, and you will be charged with being concerned with another woman not in custody with stealing four or five others and forging the endorsement thereof"—she said, "I know nothing about them"—I took her to the station—on the way she said, "I am very sorry I had anything to do with it I did not steal the order. Smith, the man who was in custody with my husband, gave me the order and the £5 note too. I was with my sister at the time in Goodge Street, and went inside and cashed it. I did not sign it, because I could not write; my sister did"—I made my note the same evening—I went with Mr. Brookes to look after Mack—I found her at 37, Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court Road—she answered to the name of Mrs. Mack—I told her who we were, and that her sister was in custody at Bow Street, charged with forging and uttering an order for £20, and I said, "You accompanied her to Winters' and signed the order"—she said, "My sister is mad to say that; I know nothing of any orders"—she was taken to Bow Street, where she saw Esther McLockley—they are sister as far as I know—Mack said at once, "What have you been saying about me?"—McLockley replied, "Well, it was no use in denying it, all the girls at Winters' knew me at once"; I am sorry for it now"—Mack made no answer—she was placed with six other women at the station; she objected on the ground that they had no shawls on, and she was wearing one—I gave her the option of taking off her shawl—she took it off—she was seen by Mr. Taylor and Miss Jeffreys, and at once identified—she said in reply to the charge, "I know nothing about any orders"—McLockley said nothing.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE.—McLockley has been represented to be the wife of McLockley, tried in the former case—they have been living together for some years as man and wife under the same name, and have three children—I have not seen a certificate of marriage, nor heard there is one.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have been a long time in the force—I did not know that Mack was well known at Winters'—Taylor, Leach, and Jeffreys said they knew the prisoners well as customers—I put her among a lot of strangers for the purpose of identification.
McLOCKLEY— GUILTY .
MACK— NOT GUILTY .
188. FREDERICK McLOCKLEY, JOHN SMITH, ESTHER McLOCKLEY , and ANNE MACK were again indicted for having stolen a letter, two pieces of paper, and an order for £15. 2s., the property of Joseph Shaw and others.
MR. RICHARDS offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
FREDERICK MCLOCKLEY— Five Years' Penal Servitude. ESTHER MCLOCKLEY— Nine Months' Hard Labour. SMITH— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
The GRAND JURY and the COURT commended the conduct of Sergeant Ward in this case.
MR. TURNER Prosecuted.—
JOHN CHARLES . I live at 6, Packington Terrace, South Acton—at eight a.m., on 2nd January, I missed a counterpane, two sheets, two pillow cases, three chemises, and a pair of new boots—these are some of the goods—the evening before, about 11.30, I shut up my house—these goods were in the parlour—I knew the prisoner before, but I never spoke to him—on the morning of the 2nd a window, which I had clasped the night before, was up, and my flowers were put into my front garden—someone had come through the front door with a latch-key (my parlour door was locked on the outside), and got out through the parlour window.
THOMAS LIVERSUCH . I live at 44, Hanbury Road, Acton, and am the prisoner's brother—on 2nd January the prisoner called on me a little after eight—when I went down into the kitchen I saw a bundle on a chair, and when it was undone I saw this small counterpane and a woman's frock—I asked him where he got them from—he said, "It is all right; it is something I had before I went away the last time, and I have been up to the station to get them."
ALEXANDER MCMULLEN (Detective X). About 8.30 p.m. on 2nd January I arrested the prisoner—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "There is a witness who saw you outside the house about six in the morning"—he replied, "It is quite right, I done it. I must have been mad at the time, and the things are at my brother's house"—I went with him to his brother's house, and the things were handed to me by the last witness—I found this knife in his possession at the station—it is part of the stolen property.
The prisoner in his defence said that he had no intention of stealing.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in April, 1887.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, January 12th, 1894.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted, and MESSRS. PAUL
TAYLOR and KNOX Defended.
This was a case in which the death was alleged to have been caused in an attempt to procure abortion; the details do not admit of publication.
GUILTY of Manslaughter.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, January 12th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOODCOCK Prosecuted.
HENRY SMITH . I keep the Red Cow, Hammersmith Road—on 28th December, about 4.50 a.m., I was awoke by some glass being broken—I went down into the bar with a candle, and found a pane of glass in a little room broken—I saw a man crouched in a corner, wearing a felt hat—I cannot identify him—I went out and called, "Police"—an iron bar was lying on the table, and afterwards I saw a policeman bring a boot in; it was wet, and it had been worn—the prisoner was in my employ as ostler five or six months last year—my premises were shut properly the night before—the man entered by breaking a pane of glass, and pulling the sash up, and then breaking another pane of glass leading into the' bus room.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I always found you honest.
GEORGE COLKMAN (444T). I was called to the Red Cow, and on a wall at the back I found this right boot (Produced)—it was wet—this was a damp, foggy morning—I found this iron bar or jemmy in the bus room; it had been used to open the window the marks corresponded—I took the boot to the station, and information was given to the police going out at six o'clock.
Cross-examined. You were found with only one boot on.
FRANCIS POWELL (576T). On December 28th, before I went on duty in the morning, I had information of a burglary, and about 6.15 I met the prisoner and another man coming from the direction of the Red Cow—the prisoner was only wearing one boot, the left—I took him in custody—he said, "I will go to the station quietly"—in my opinion the boots are a pair.
Cross-examined. The Red Cow is not three-quarters of a mile from where I saw you; it is not above 200 yards.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BURROW Prosecuted. MR. BEARD defended Nash.
GEORGE BIXBY . I live at 44, Penton Place, Islington, and am the owner of 3, Penton Place, where I had a lodger named Horsey—on December 19th I was at the house, and left all the rooms locked up and secured, and seals put on the drawers, as my brother had just taken over the furniture—the area door was fastened, but next morning it was
broken open—the bolt was right off, and the catch forced away—these sheets and these plants are my mother's property.
RICHARD BITGROVE . I live in this house, and sleep in the second floor front room—I went to bed about 8.30, and between ten and eleven o'clock, as near as I can guess, I heard a rumbling downstairs, but thought it was a lodger underneath—I shouted out, "Who's there?" but got no answer—I got out of bed, and went out in my shirt, and saw two men going down-stairs with a bundle each—I went to the door; one gave me a push, and the door was shut—I opened it, and saw them each with a bundle—I did not see them sufficiently well to recognise them.
Cross-examined by MR. BEARD. I had been asleep; I cannot say what time it was—I did not look at my watch when I got back to my room.
CHARLES HORSEY . I live at 110, Pentonville Road—on December 19th I was living at Penton Place—when I went to work at eight that morning my room was all right, and when I came home at 11.30 it had been disturbed, and some clothes had been taken away—these clothes (produced) are mine; they are worth £3.
JOHN BUDGE (130G). On December 19th, about 11.30 p.m., I was on duty and saw the two prisoners on the opposite side of the road, each carrying a bundle—I asked them what they had there—Noonan said, "It is all right, governor, we have just come from hopping"—no hopping goes on in December—I examined the parcels and found some sheets and a blanket in Nash's parcel—he said he bought them for a shilling at a public-house.
Cross-examined. The remark about hopping was not made in a jocular manner—Nash gave a false address; his father is a very respectable man.
Cross-examined by Noonan. I have not been to your house and seen your wife.
Nash's statement before the Magistrate: "I was at the Northumberland Arms, and a short man came in; he was carrying these things, and said he was selling his home. I bought them."
Noonan's defence. I was in the Northumberland Arms, and a man came in and asked me to buy the things for half-a-crown. I did so, I have got my character in my pocket. (Producing some certificates.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BIRON Prosecuted, MR. WARBURTON Defended.
THOMAS HERBERT SOWERBY . I am a soap maker at the Canal Soap Works, Old Kent Road—on March 22nd I engaged the prisoner as traveller—he was to travel for other firms as well—the terms were put down in this letter, and signed by us both. (By this the prisoner was engaged at the rate of 20s. payment for every ton of soap sold, a cash account to be rendered weekly)—cheques drawn to my order were to be sent to me as soon as possible—he had no authority to endorse
any cheque by procuration—if a cheque was drawn by a customer in respect of my account and another, customer's and was to his order, lie would send me a cheque on his banker for my portion—he sometimes sent me a cheque instead of cash if he was prevented from calling; he did so once when he left the cash at home—I recollect his coming to my office when Mr. Fry was there, and going through his outstanding accounts—I had every confidence in him as a traveller—I showed him Mr. Dubowski's account for £14 5s., and he said, "I am going there now, shall I take it?"—we usually send by post—I think he said he would see about getting the money—I showed him an account sent to Mr. Rotherford, and I wrote to Mr. Rutherford, and received an answer, in consequence of which I wrote to the prisoner and received this post-card in answer: "I will see Rutherford, and come and see you on Wednesday morning"—he did not come—I gave him notice of the termination of the agreement—in November I was shown a cheque for £13 15s., endorsed in the prisoner's writing—he had no authority to do so; he put his name under mine per pro—I have never received the £13—I saw him on December 20th and he said, "Can nothing be done; cannot I pay you something now?"—I said, "It is in the solicitor's hands."
Cross-examined. It was not his general custom to take the cheques which were paid for me, and send me his own cheques—I know of three cases where he handed cheques to me; one was Rutherford's, and another Houseman's—these cheques (produced) were not drawn to make up for customers' cheques which he had taken; no such thing was allowed; they were all drawn for cash or to his order; I believe Hurst has riot got a I winking account—the prisoner used to come fairly regularly once a week—they were crossed cheques—many customers draw cheques payable to the traveller—it would make no difference whether a cheque was made payable to the firm or to him, and endorsed per pro, but it would be irregular.
Re-examined. I never had the money, nor was I advised that he had it—he offered to pay it conditionally—he has never disputed that he owed me money.
Re-examined. He told me on the 21st that he was going round to ask for this identical debt—I accepted cheque "C" instead of cash because it was a convenient means of remitting it through the post.
—Fry and S. M Dubowski were not allowed to give evidence, they not having been examined before the Magistrate, and no notice having been given to the prisoner that they would be called.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, January 12th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CARRINGTON Prosecuted; MESSRS. COHEN and TURNER Defended.
CHARLES L'ENFANT . I produce the file of proceedings in the prisoner's bankruptcy—his petition was filed on 27th August, 1885—he was adjudicated bankrupt on 30th October, 1885—he is still undischarged.
JOHN LOWE . I trade as Nothard and Lowe, wholesale potato sales-men, at 125, Commercial Street, and other places—on 18th July I went through my accounts—in consequence of what I found as to the prisoner's indebtedness to me, I caused a letter, of which this is a copy, to be sent to him—in reply, I received this letter, of 28th July, from the prisoner. (Asking for time to be given to him to settle the account)—I instructed my solicitors to proceed after that, and a writ was issued on 5th August, and my solicitors applied under Order 14, and then I first discovered the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined. The negotiations took place between the prisoner and Mr. Kedgeley, my manager and salesman—in opening the account he acted for me—the only time I saw the prisoner was the day before the case came on at Worship Street—he came to talk the matter over with me, and I refused to have anything to do with him—the first time I had any notification that the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt was when my solicitors informed me that he had sworn an affidavit about 24th August to the effect that the business at 3, Egan Terrace belonged to his wife, for whom he managed it, he being an undischarged bankrupt—on my return from Germany I directed my solicitors to proceed against him criminally—my business is left entirely to Mr. Kedgeley to carry on; he has full authority to act for me on his own discretion—my usual terms of payment are from about a fortnight up to two months.
HENRY WILLIAM KEDGELEY . I am manager to Mr. John Lowe, potato and fruit salesman, at 125, Commercial Street, Spitalfields—on 9th June the prisoner came in with an old customer, Mr. Filby—these books are kept by Mr. Bird under my supervision; I check them at the time—on 9th June the prisoner bought and paid for ten boxes of potatoes, which came to £5 2s. 3 1/2 d.—on 10th June he bought and paid for more, coming to £4 19s. 6d.—between then and the 17th he had other goods, amounting to £10 4s. 4d., which were not paid for—from then to the 24th he had £15 15s. 3d. worth of goods, which made the total indebtedness £25 19s. 7d.—on June 27th he paid £10 4s. 4d., leaving £15 15s. 3d.—down to June 30th other goods were obtained and other sums were paid—the account was closed on July 15th, when his indebtedness was £53 2s.—we obtained judgment for that amount—he never informed me that he was an undischarged bankrupt—the first I heard of it was through the telephone from Mr. Lowe after 15th July, and after the action had been commenced—the accounts were made out to "Croager, late Benson"—it is entered in the ledger "Benson (Croager)"—he was introduced as the gentleman who had bought Benson's business, and until he started the credit account we did not know his name—he first asked for credit on Saturday, 10th June—after he had incurred the debt I tried to see him on several occasions—on 14th July I sent him a telegram—I received this telegram in reply: "See you about two.—CROAGER "—on 15th I went to where he was carrying
on a fruiterer's and greengrocer's business at 3, Egan Terrace, Page Green, Tottenham—I cannot say if any name was up over the facia—I asked him if he had anything for me—he said, "I have been up to your place, and you were closed"—I asked him what time—he said, "Six"—I said, "Of course we should be closed"—he said, "I have sent it on to you"—I understood him to mean he had sent money on—I received that evening or the next day this letter from him. (Promising to call on Saturday morning)—I sent a telegram, and received this letter. (Stating that they might depend on £20 in the morning, and a further £20 on Tuesday; and that he regretted leaving got so much behind. Signed, THOMAS CROAGER)—then I received this letter enclosing £15—on 18th he called and paid £3 to Payne, and said he would send more during the week—he did not send—I saw him on 28th, and asked him if he was going to pay, and he said he would do so as soon as he possibly could—I never saw his affidavit—I never heard in the course of any of the negotiations with him that it was his wife's business.
Cross-examined. The prisoner never informed me that he was an undischarged bankrupt, nor was it the subject of general conversation between me, the prisoner, and other people—I am aware now that he was bankrupt in the timber and firewood trade—I heard after Mr. Filby's introduction that he had been in the timber trade—I asked him if he knew a Mr. Stafford, because he was an old friend of mine, and had been in the trade—he said, "Yes"—I did not say anything about Stafford having been in the timber trade—I heard about the prisoner having been in that trade from Filby, and from Payne, a man in our employ; it was shortly after the introduction, not immediately afterwards—it might be four or five or fourteen days afterwards—all I was told was that he had been in the timber trade—Filby introduced him as a customer, who had bought Benson's business—I did not made inquiries of Filby about him—he paid cash the first two days—Filby came with him almost every time—after they had been a day out together Filby was talking in general conversation about their going out together, and he said of the prisoner, "Oh, he is a toff; he must have some money"—I suppose toff means a good sort of fellow—it did not strike me as odd that he should have a little green-grocer's shop, or want credit for £2 7s. 6d.—I have been a principal in business, and am now only a manager; that was a known fact—I may have told the prisoner something about it—Mr. Stafford's name may have been mentioned on that occasion—I remember asking him about Stafford in general conversation; I was never with him above five or ten minutes at a time—that might have been the occasion when I said I had been a principal—the prisoner never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt; he never conveyed anything of the kind to me; if he had I should have at once stopped his credit—I do not remember all that passed—we have a great number of customers—it is impossible to remember all the conversations I have with every customer—I do not know Mr. Sharp by sight; you asked me that question at the Police-court—I went to the Golden Hart with the prisoner on one or two occasions in June—I do not remember anyone coming in there—I do not know Mr. Brown, a farmer, of Chesham; I should not know him if I saw him—I do not remember anybody being present in the bar whom the prisoner spoke to—I only remember going to the Golden Hart with the prisoner and Mr.
Filby in June or July—Mr. Sharp never said to the prisoner in my presence, "Fancy you now being in the greengrocery trade," nor did the prisoner reply, "I cannot be doing very much because I am still without my discharge"—had such a conversation taken place I should have immediately stopped his credit—I did not say, "Why do you not get your discharge, as no one knows how the shoe pinches except those that wear it?" or anything of the sort—I cannot say if Stafford's name was mentioned on that occasion—when his name was mentioned I said to the prisoner, "Do you know William Stafford?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "He is an old particular friend of mine"—I also asked him if he knew Dawe, Brown and Co.—he rather hesitated, and said, "Yes"—I did not see the name over the shop at Tottenham—the prisoner was on the premises.
Re-examined. On the first occasion I gave evidence at the Police-court I was cross-examined by Mr. Cohen for something like two hours, but he did not then put a word to me about this conversation with Brown and Sharp—the case was adjourned for a considerable time, and then he cross-examined me again.
By MR. COHEN. I never heard at any time that the business at Egan Terrace was the prisoner's wife's, or that it was being carried on with her money—I never saw a van with the wife's name on it.
FREDERICK PAYNE . I am a salesman in Mr. Lowe's employment—I was present when most of these goods were sold to the prisoner—he never informed me that he was an undischarged bankrupt—I never heard he was an undischarged bankrupt, and that the business was his wife's and being carried on with her capital—it is a subject I should not go into with customers, as it is in the manager's department.
Cross-examined. I informed Mr. Kedgely that the prisoner had been in the timber trade—I first saw the prisoner about 9th June; it was two or three weeks after that that I heard from Mr. Filby he had been in the timber trade—I did not know it of my own knowledge.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ROBERT WOLFENDEN . I am a solicitor, of 141, Fernpark Road, Hornsey—the prisoner is my brother-in-law—at the request of a friend I purchased the business at 3, Egan Terrace, in my own name, as trustee for Mrs. Croager, on 26th or 27th May, 1893—£80 was the price; £50 was paid in cash and £30 by a bill—I and the prisoner's two brothers found the money—the £30 has not been paid, because the consideration failed—Mrs. Croager was to manage the business with her grown-up son, and a man was engaged who had been in the business with Mr. Benson—the prisoner did not understand it—a horse and van were used—a name was put on the van and over the shop facia—I cannot exactly say what name; I believe it was "E. Croager"—I gave instructions for it, but I could not be quite sure what it was—I should not like to swear it was not simply "Croager."
Cross-examined. The document relating to the sale of the business merely expresses that it was sold to me—there is no document to show I was trustee for the prisoner's wife—I instructed the prisoner or his
wife to write the name up; I will not swear any initial was put up—Benson drew on me for the £30 and I accepted—the bill was not paid, and will not be, subject to the decision of a judge and jury against me.
Re-examined. Certain book debts were not forthcoming—I never knew until the service of the writ that the prisoner was getting goods from Mr. Lowe—I supplied upwards of £40 for purchase of stock—I had no knowledge that goods were being obtained on credit—I was never told of it—he never told me he had told Mr. Lowe that he was an undischarged bankrupt, and that goods were being supplied to his wife.
CHARLES SHARP . I am a builder, of 51a, Hillside Street, Stamford Hill—I have been in a large way of business, and have had about eighty houses about there—on the 1st or 2nd Saturday in June I met the prisoner one morning early at Stoke Newington Station—I had a conversation with him and rode with him on his van, and we went to a public-house in Spitalfields Market; it may have been the Golden Hart; it was opposite the market—the prisoner went out and came in with a short man, who has given evidence to-day, Mr. Kedgeley—the prisoner introduced him to me; I cannot say by what name, it began with a K or C—I know the man—he was the foreman the prisoner was dealing with—I am sure he was the man I saw in the witness box—the name was Kedge or something like that—we had drink, and I said in Kedgeley's presence, "What a curious thing it is after your business transactions for you to be a greengrocer"—he said, "I am not a greengrocer; we have had better times, and we have enjoyed ourselves several times together; but since my bankruptcy, of course, we have not been able to do it"—Kedgeley said something about nobody knew how the shoe pinched only them that wore it—I think that was all he said; I don't remember anything else particularly—some other man's name was mentioned who had been a timber merchant—the prisoner said he was not getting on; he was managing the thing for his wife—I don't remember what Kedgeley said to that—he said something, and then Stafford's name was mentioned—he was a friend of the prisoner and Kedgeley—I asked him how long it was since he had been bankrupt, and he said something like eight or nine years—I said, "Well, it is eight or nine years since I saw you."
By the COURT. I did not know Kedgeley—I never saw him before in my life—I next saw him at Worship Street four or five weeks ago, when he was giving evidence.
Cross-examined. I first gave evidence in December at Worship Street—the prisoner first saw me about giving evidence—he came to my place—I cannot remember Mr. Cohen putting to me that the prisoner said, "I have not got my discharge, not having applied for it."
----FILBY. I know the prisoner, and I introduced him to Mr. Lowe's firm for the purpose of enabling him to buy goods—I was not present on any occasion when he informed Kedgeley that he was an undischarged bankrupt, and that the business was his wife's.
Cross-examined. I introduced the prisoner to Kedgeley for the purposes of business—I had known him since last Good Friday—I did not know he had been in the timber trade until he told me so openly.
GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
MESSRS. BIRON and ELDRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
LOUISA SOPHIA BARNES . I am landlady of the Marquis Tavern, Douglas Road, Canonbury—from 7 to 9.20 p.m. on Sunday, 10th December, I was serving in my bar—my daughter, Emily Harriett, was in the bar from 8 till 9.20—about 9.20 I took my little girl, aged twelve next April, upstairs to bed—my daughter occupies the next room to mine on the second floor; my little girl sleeps in the same room with me—the door of the next room was open, and my little girl closed it before going into my room—I went into my room, not closing the door after me, and turned up the gas—I noticed a noise in the next room, the door of which was shut—the child said, "What is that?"—the prisoner opened the door, and stood in the doorway in front of me—I saw him full face plainly by the one gas-burner—he was facing the light—he had a moustache, with false Dundreary whiskers—I am certain of it, I was so close to him; he was only two yards off"—I recognised him as a man I had seen in my bar—he was putting his head in and out the bar doors from seven till about 8.40—he had not got the dummy whiskers on then—he had on a hard black bowler hat with an oval top—I had noticed the face of the man who had been in the bar earlier in the evening, because we were not busy, and I drew my daughter's attention to him—I noticed he was very high cheek-boned, a peculiar looking man, with a face once seen not easily forgotten—I noticed the same peculiarity in the man I saw in the doorway—when he stood there my child screamed—I said, "What do you want, you blackguard?"—he said loudly to my child, "Be quiet, you little beast"—he then pulled the door to and held the handle—I heard a noise like someone going down stairs—then he let go the door—I was pulling it one side and he the other—I went out and saw his face again—I was close to him—I said to him, as he was going downstairs, "I shall know you again"—he pulled his hat down and went into a crouching position, and turned to the right and went into a spare bedroom on the first floor, and went out at the window—I watched him over the bannisters—I heard the window open—the window of the spare bedroom looks out on to a billiard-room—there is an interval of twenty feet between the billiard-room and the bedroom window—I looked out and saw a plank which had been placed, by which they could get on to the billiard room roof—on the 18th I went to Upper Street Police-station, where I saw about nine men in a row—after looking at them all steadily I at once picked out the prisoner—he said, after I had picked him out, "Be careful, madam, what you accuse me of "I said, "I know you as well by your voice; you have condemned yourself. It is the same voice as said to my little girl on Sunday night, the 10th, 'Be quiet, you little beast!'"
Cross-examined. I saw a policeman, who came with Inspector Lea, about ten minutes afterwards—I did not see Inspector Nairn till I went to the North London Police-court—I gave a description of the man I saw on the staircase to Inspector Lea on the same night—I did not give a description to anyone else—I was astonished and frightened when I saw the man upstairs—he had a peculiar-looking face, and his cheek-bones struck me—I mentioned that to Lea, and I spoke of his height as the
same as our potman's—I cannot say what his height is—I did not give it in feet and inches—I did not describe him as wearing glasses, or as having a round, full face—a message was left on 18th December for me to attend at the Police-station to see if I could identify the man who had committed the burglary, and I went with my elder daughter—I was two or three minutes at the station before I was shown the men—I do not think any of them were wearing glasses—I think a gentleman was waiting at the station to identify the prisoner—I do not know that two gentlemen picked out a man who was wearing glasses as a man they saw running away—all the men at the station were not clean shaven—the burglar's chin was shaven, and he had a false moustache and whiskers—I could not see whether he had a moustache of his own underneath—of the nine men I saw some were tall and some short—none of them, except the prisoner, fairly answered my description; he did answer it—he had no particular accent when he spoke to me, but I knew his voice when I heard him speak at the station—the man I saw dodging in and out of the bar earlier in the evening had a small moustache.
Re-examined. When I picked out the prisoner he had not so much hair on his face as he has now; his chin was clean shaven—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man I saw on the 10th at my house.
EMILY HARRIETT BARNES . I am the daughter of the last witness—about eight p.m., on 10th December, the prisoner came in one bar and went out, and came in at another door and went out again, and then came in again without asking for anything—he came in four or five times—then he called for a glass of mild and bitter—I served him, and he sat down for a minute or two, and I walked down to the end of the bar and had a good look at him—as I did so he turned his face up and looked at me, and drank up his beer and went out—I should say that was some time before nine, between eight and nine—I remember hearing my mother call out about half-past nine, and then the police came—on the 18th I went with my mother to the Police-station, where I picked out the prisoner from a number of men as the man I had seen in our bar—he had no Dundreary whiskers, only a moustache that hung down over his lip; except for that he was clean shaven.
Cross-examined. I am not certain whether I described him to Lea on Sunday, but on Monday I described him to the detective sergeant; that was after Lea had seen my mother—I should say the man's moustache was rather inclined to be heavy over the lip—he was about the same height as our potman, a pretty good height; my mother and I passed no remark about that—he had high cheek-lames—I described him as having ¦a moustache, not clean shaven—he was not a man with a full face—I went into the room to pick him out after my mother—I believe a gentleman went in between us; I am not sure if I went in after her or the gentleman—some of the men the prisoner was with had beards—I knew none of them were he—I picked out the prisoner as the man nearest to my description, and as the one I saw looking in and out of our bar—I felt certain he was the man.
Cross-examined. I had been out the earlier part of the evening, and when I came in my mother spoke to me, and drew my attention to some-thing.
was in the Douglas Road—I heard a noise in the garden of No. 39, which adjoins the Marquis Tavern—I was in uniform—I went into the garden, and saw two men—I said, "What are you doing here?"—the prisoner, who was one of the two, came forward and said, "It is all right"—I could see his face; it was a fairly light night; he came within a yard or two feet of me, I should say—he struck me on the face with some blunt instrument, knocking me to the ground—he and the other man ran away—after lying for a minute or two, I got up and gave chase along the Willow Bridge Road, over Willow Bridge, and into the Alwyne Road, where I lost sight of the men—someone came up—my whistle was blown—two constables arrived—I went to the station, and my injury was dressed—I was in the hospital till 23rd December—I was suffering from the blow on my cheek, contusion of the eye, and a slight fracture—I suffered great pain—on the morning of 2nd January I attended the Police-court, and there I picked out the prisoner from seven or eight men as being the man who struck me—at the time he struck me he had a slight moustache, from what I could discern—I saw no whiskers—there was a lamp outside the garden, close by the gate; it Showed right into the garden.
Cross-examined. To the best of my belief I had never seen the man who struck me before that night—from the time of his first appearing it was a matter of a few seconds—I fell senseless after being struck—I was instructed by Inspector Nairn to go to the Police-court on 2nd January—I did not give to the police any description of the man who struck me.
THOMAS WILLIAM ROBERTS . I live at 106, Hornsey Road, Holloway, and am a house furnisher—about 9.30 p.m. on 10th December I was on Willow Bridge; I heard a whistle blown and a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw two men come running over the bridge—they turned down Alwyne Road—a policeman was following them, with his hand to his face—I went to the other end of the road to block it—the two men passed within three "yards of me—there was a lamp at each corner, directly over where I was standing, and another within twenty yards—about two p.m. on 18th December I went to the Police-station, and picked out the prisoner from about twelve men as being one of the men I had seen—he had no whiskers when I saw him running, only a slight moustache—I could see the faces of the men plainly; they were facing me.
Cross-examined. I had never seen the men before that night—they were running, but not so hard as they could—I had my eye on their faces about a quarter-minute, I should think—I gave no description to the police—Sergeant Smith asked me to come to the Police-station on 18th December to see if I could identify a man—Mrs. Barnes went into the room before me—I waited twenty minutes, I should think, before I went in—some of the men had beards; I knew they were not the men—one had a dark moustache; some had small flat whiskers—the man I saw was clean shaven, with a slight moustache; I identified him at once.
WALTER LEA (Inspector N). A little after ten p.m. on 10th December I inspected the premises at the Marquis Tavern—at the back I found on the top of a wall two baskets, one on the top of the other, which would
enable a person to get on to the top of an outhouse, from which he could get on to the roof of the billiard-room—on the roof I found a plank which could be placed across to a bedroom window on the first floor—the same evening I saw Mrs. Barnes, who made a statement to me—Miss Barnes did not make a statement to me.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Barnes gave me a description of the men on the night of the occurrence—Nairn is the officer in charge of the case—the Hue and Cry is circulated among the police, and contains descriptions of men wanted—Sergeant Inward received a description of the men who were wanted; he is not here—I did not insert in the Hue and Cry the description which Mrs. Barnes gave me, because a description by a private individual, Mr. Legge, who went to the station, had already been inserted—I have read his description; it does not mention high cheek-bones—I did not supplement the description he gave—I cannot say if it described the man as full-faced and clean shaven, six feet in height—Mr. Legge lives in the road where this took place—he was brought to the station to identify the prisoner; I know from hearsay that he did not do so—the inspector on duty who had charge of the identification is not here—Inspector Nairn was there at the time—I had nothing to do with it—Legge has not to my knowledge been here this week.
By the COURT. The description given by Legge was inserted in the Hue and Cry—a man was arrested whom Legge failed to identify—Mrs. and Miss Barnes and the constable did identify him.
ALFRED GOULD (Police Sergeant G). On Sunday night, 17th December, I was with Smith and Dyke in East Road, Hoxton—I saw the prisoner—I pinned him from behind, and said, "Joe, we are going to arrest you on suspicion for breaking and entering a public-house in the Douglas Road, Canonbury, last Sunday night; further, with violently assaulting a constable"—he said, "I know nothing at all about it"—as we were taking him to the station, he wrestled several times to get away—at last I said, "If you continue to wrestle in this way, we shall have to resort to violence"—whistles were blown; we had further assistance, and then he went quietly to the station—he said on the way, "All I want now is fair play, and that I know I shall have from you"—we took him to Hoxton Station, and then in a cab to Islington—he said on the way there, "What time did this occur?"—I said, "Between nine and ten o'clock; I believe about half-past nine"—he said, "I shall be able to prove where I was for hours on that Sunday night."
Cross-examined. I had seen the Hue and Cry containing a description before I arrested him—it was a fairly good description of the prisoner—I could not tell you if the man who gave it failed to identify the prisoner—I did not take him into custody on that description, but on instructions received from my superiors—the description is a very fair description of the man.
JAMES SMITH (Detective Sergeant N). I was with Gould when the prisoner was arrested—I was present on the morning of the 18th, when he was charged with having burglarious implements in his possession by night—he said in answer to the charge, "How could it be in my possession? It was not found on me when I was searched"—"it" referred to the jemmy.
Cross-examined. Of the six men among whom the prisoner was placed
four were fetched from outside the Court; two or three were night charges, I believe.
Re-examined. The night charges were sober in the morning—we could not find other tall men of the stamp we wanted.
JAMES NAIRN (Inspector N). About midnight on the 17th December, I saw the prisoner at Islington Police-station—I said, "You know what you are brought here for?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "In consequence of the lateness of the hour you will have to be detained here until tomorrow"—he said, "Cannot I see the constable?"—I said, "There are others to see you beside him"—the following afternoon, about two, he was placed with nine others for identification, and Mrs. and Miss Barnes and Mr. Roberts picked him out—I told him he would be charged with burglariously breaking and entering the Marquis Tavern, and further with feloniously wounding the constable—he made no reply—this is the description which was circulated, "Wanted, for burglary and assault on the police on the 10th, two men, one aged about 30, height 6 ft. 1 in., complexion pale, full face, supposed clean shaved; dress, dark clothes, hard felt hat; second man, etc."—Mr. Legge gave that description—he was brought to the station on the afternoon of the 18th, but failed to identify the prisoner.
Cross-examined. The Hue and Cry is circulated among the stations every day—Lea told me he had received a description from Mrs. Barnes, and that it described a man with rather a full face—she did not say the man was not full faced—I am not responsible for the description in the Hue and Cry; it was Lea who put it in circulation, as far as I know—I was responsible for the arrangements for the identification—I got men fairly resembling the prisoner, as far as I could—Smith brought the men in—Mrs. Barnes was at the station about a quarter of hour before she was taken in to identify—during that time I was selecting persons to place by the prisoner's side—one man wore glasses—we brought Legge and Terrall to identify the prisoner; neither of them did so—they picked out another man, who was wearing glasses, as resembling the man they saw—no woman gave me information, to the best of my knowledge.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN COGHILL . I live at 26, Union Square, Packington Street, Islington, and am clerk to a bookmaker, Murray—I have known the prisoner about fourteen months—on Tuesday, 5th December, I attended a coursing meeting at Witham, Essex—on Friday, 8th, I met the prisoner in Grace-church Street, and invited him to dine with me on Sunday 10th, at 26, Union Square—my wife, the prisoner, and I dined together on that day about a quarter to two, and the prisoner stopped till 11.10, having tea and supper, with us; he did not go out of the house at all during that time—in the evening, after tea, about seven, or a little past, Mr. Clayton and Mr. Coleman came, and about nine Mr. Hunt came—Coleman and Hunt were strangers to the prisoner; I introduced them to him—he knew Clayton.
Cross-examined. I mentioned going to Witham on 5th to fix the date, because I brought home a hare from the coursing meeting, and we had it on the 10th—I have been in Mr. Murray's employment about eight years—Coleman is a great friend of mine—I have known him for ten or twelve years—we only call him Herbert—I believe his Christian name is
Harold—I know him very well; we were in the same circle—I do not know anyone of the name of Howard—I call the prisoner Bill, not Joe—it would surprise me to hear that he answered to the name of Joe—we were in the house the whole of the night till eleven, and did not go out—my wife was there the whole of the time; she is not here to-day—Mr. Murray lives at Florence Street, Islington—I did not know of the prisoner's arrest till I was sent for on the Wednesday after, the 20th—on that day he went before the Magistrate again—I went to the Police-court; I did not give evidence—I went to the Police-court on January 2nd, and was there when he was committed for trial—Coleman was close by, in the precincts of the Court—Hunt was there—we talked about different matters on the Sunday evening, nothing specially—we finished the hare for dinner—we talked about racing matters, and lots of things, I could not give you any particular item—when I was sent for on the Wednesday I saw his solicitor—I was told I should be wanted at the Police-court—I was not asked what had taken place on the Sunday—I told him about the hare, and that I got it from Witham—I first met the prisoner at Leicester, where he stayed at the hotel I was at—we were attending a race meeting—he does attend race meetings—I never heard he attended a race meeting in 1891.
Re-examined. Mr. Young was his solicitor at the Police-court—I made a statement to Mr. Young before he went into Court—I was told I should be required—if my wife were here to-day no one would be left at home—both the prisoner and I are racing men, and in all probability we talked racing matters.
By the COURT. The prisoner has been at my place four times—he has dined with me before—he dined with me live or six weeks ago on a Sunday—we always have dinner at half-past one; we dined then at a quarter to two—he left at eleven o'clock, never leaving the house in the interval—he has dined twice with me, but he has called on me as well—he never goes out when he calls until he leaves—I saw an account of this case in the paper, but did not know it had any reference to the prisoner—I did not notice the hour at which it was said to have happened—I first heard on the Wednesday that the man was said to be my friend, who dined with me—Mr. Young took down my statement on the day the prisoner was committed for trial; that was not on the Wednesday—I then saw some man seat by the prisoner, I suppose—he said I was required—he said someone of the name of Thompson had got locked up and charged, and wanted to see me, and I tried to find out what it was—it occurred to me it was the prisoner then—we only had a few minutes' conversation—I did not ask when Thompson got into trouble; I thought it was that day—I had to go and find out what the matter was—I went and saw the prisoner in the dock—I heard part of the case—I knew before that that it was 10th December that he was alleged to have been, engaged in this burglary—I knew it from the newspaper account—I observed the date, and afterwards they said it was the date—then I went to the solicitor and made a statement to him—I do not know where the prisoner lives; somewhere in Holloway, I don't know where—I never asked him where he lived—I had no reason to do so.
upholsterer—Mr. Coleman, a butcher, is a friend of mine—on Sunday, 10th December, I was in the George and Dragon when Coleman came in about 6.30 or a little after—we had some conversation, in consequence of which we went to Jack Coghill's, a friend of mine—we got there about 7.15 or 7.30—I saw Mr. and Mrs. Coghill and the prisoner, whom I had known for twelve or thirteen months—I believe Coleman had seen him before, but not to know him—Hunt came in while, we were there—we left close after eleven—the prisoner was in our company from 7.30 till eleven, I swear—we were talking, and drinking, and smoking, and we had supper—we should leave in time to get a parting drink, and the houses were just closed.
Cross-examined. Coleman and Hunt left with me—we drank while we were there; nothing was fetched in—I have a job in hand now as an upholsterer—I attend races sometimes—I have not met the prisoner at races—I have met Coghill there frequently—I have known the prisoner intimately for twelve or thirteen months—I could not say where he lives; I believe it is about Highbury way—I first met him with Brown, a cabinet-maker, and a friend of mine, at the corner of Liverpool Street—I did a little job for him, an easy chair—I don't know where he lived then; he sent for the chair, and paid for it—I have known Coghill for fifteen or sixteen years—I have been to see him on many occasions—I don't think I have seen the prisoner there before; I may have seen him in company with Coghill, but not there; I may have, as there are generally a lot of visitors there; it is a free house; any friends go there—Coghill said something about having been to a coursing meeting somewhere in the north; we were talking about racing and about friends—we had cold beef, bread, pickles and beer for supper, I believe—I was not at the Police-court on the first hearing; at the second I was within the vicinity of the Court, I think; I was there twice—I was close handy outside the Court when the prisoner was committed—I was not called in—I am not sure that Coghill was there—I saw the case in the paper, and did not know it was the prisoner till I saw a relation of his, who came and asked me about it; it was his cousin, I believe, William George—I saw in the paper it took place about 9.30—William George came to me about three days after I saw the case in the paper—I did not go then to the Police-court—he told me if I was wanted he would come and let me know—then I went, and was not called.
Re-examined. I think I saw Mr. Young after the committal—I go racing in summer occasionally—I know some thousands of people I meet on racecourses.
By the COURT. I was told Thompson was in custody on a charge of burglary, and went to the Police-court from a desire to assist him—I was desirous of hearing all about it—I stayed outside because I did not know whether I could get in—I had no motive in staying outside—I was drinking with friends—George is a tall man, very nearly as tall as the prisoner, I daresay 5 ft. 7 in., and about thirty-three or thirty-four, I should think—I have known him five to six years, I daresay—he deals at sales and things of that kind—I have known him buy upholsterers' cuttings and different things—I could not say for certain where he lives; I believe Whitecross Street way—I often meet him in business going about—I know he is a relation of the prisoner's—I met him in the street—he came
where he thought he could find me, I suppose—he had been searching for me—I did not ask him what he had to do with the prisoner, or what his connection with him was—he is younger than the prisoner—he is older than twenty-five; he would be thirty-four to thirty-six.
HOWARD COLEMAN . I am a butcher, of 90, Virginia Road—on Sunday, 10th December, I met Clayton in the George and Dragon—we went to Coghill's at a little after seven, where I saw Coghill and the prisoner—I did not know the prisoner before Coghill introduced him to me—we stayed there till about eleven—Mr. Hunt came in about nine—at eleven we all left—the prisoner was in our company the whole time, from seven till eleven—I keep a shop—the prisoner was a stranger to me before 10th December.
Cross-examined. Coghill, Clayton, Hunt, the prisoner, and I were in the house at one time—I have known Clayton about twelve years—I was a witness for Charles Howard when he appealed to Sessions against a conviction for assault—I only knew Howard as a neighbour for twelve months; he lived close by my shop and his wife dealt at my place—I could not tell whether he was convicted of burglary—I only knew he was convicted of assault—he got three months and appealed, and got a month taken off—he is dead now—on the evening of the 10th a little drink was sent for, not much—I expect they got drink from the nearest house—I had some cold beef and pickles for supper—I read of the case in the paper; I did not know who it was supposed to be—I could not say whether I noticed that it had happened about half-past nine—I never went to the Police-court at all—I was asked to go, but I could not get away—Mr. Coghill asked me if I recollected being there on Sunday night, and a man with Coghill told me about this case, and asked me if I recollected who was there that night, and I said "Yes"—we talked it over together.
Re-examined. I have been a butcher all my life—I have kept my shop for twelve years—the prisoner was a stranger to me till this particular night.
GEORGE HUNT . I live at 12, Virginia Road, Bethnal Green, and am a wood turner—I belong to the "Good Intent "club of anglers—our head-quarters are the Crown, Church Street, Shoreditch—on 10th December I went fishing in the Thames at Shiplake—I caught three roach; I was the only one who caught anything that day—I took the fish next door to our headquarters, as it was too early to go in, and left my tackle there—I had promised Coghill months before to bring him some fish, but I had not caught any before—I took the fish to Coghill, getting there about nine or a few minutes past—I saw there Clayton, Mr. and Mrs. Coghill, Coleman, and the prisoner—I had seen the prisoner before, but never spoken to him—Coghill introduced me to him—we stopped there till past eleven, the prisoner remaining in my company the whole time from nine till eleven—I am a small master workman—I have been in business for sixteen years—I have occupied my present shop seven years—the prisoner is a stranger to me except for the introduction on the 10th.
Cross-examined. I knew his features, but I never spoke to him till that night—I have seen him with Coghill before—Coghill told me he was his friend Mr. Thompson, and he said I was his friend Mike—we talked about Christmas, and wished each other a happy Christmas—I cannot
remember everything that was said—the prisoner told me I must have been mad for going out a day like that; it was raining and blowing all day—we had something to eat and drink—I don't know if any drink was fetched in—I had what I wanted—I stopped to supper—I first heard about this case at the latter end of last week, when Coghill came and said that Thompson, the man he had introduced me to, had been arrested on suspicion, and he wanted me to go and say where he was on that Sunday night—I did not read about it in the newspaper till last Sunday—I was not at the Police-court—I did not hear about the case being at the Police-court—I did not see Coghill after the 10th until last week—I do not know Charles Howard—I know Howard Coleman.
Re-examined. I did not see Coghill again till after the committal—I knew him before, and had been to his house before.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction for felony in October, 1884.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, January 13th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HENDERSON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
BRASSI LUTSCHIA (Interpreted) I am an ice-cream vendor, of Eyre Street Hill—on December 16th, between 3.30 and four o'clock, I was on Eyre Street Hill, and saw the prisoner quarrelling with a countryman of his—I tried to separate them and to make peace, and two or three people caught hold of him to take him away—I said, "Why don't you go home? Why do you stop here?" and all at once he took out a razor and struck me on my finger and on my right shoulder, and then his brother struck me with some instrument in my back—I can give no reason for it; I did not know him even by sight, and never had any quarrel with him—I had my coat on—the razor cut the top of my right arm; it was a very fearful cut—it bled much, and I suffered a great deal of pain—it has not exactly healed yet, and I feel pain, and cannot cough—half of the people in Eyre Street Hill were there—a doctor attended to my wounds.
Cross-examined. I do not carry a knife or a razor—the razor which the prisoner used was not taken out of my pocket—I have never been accused of stabbing a man—I have got no money, and never paid any to settle out of Court three charges of stabbing—my friends have only paid money for me once when I was accused of stabbing, and I was charged innocently—I was bound over to keep the peace for six months—Fraulo, who was with me before it began, has not paid money to prevent my being prosecuted—he is at his house now—it is not true that the prisoner's brother and I were quarrelling and fighting with knives.
Re-examined. I was bound over to keep the peace for six months because I was throwing lemon-peel at a friend, and it accidentally struck a woman; that was six months ago.
prisoner with a razor in his hand; he struck the prosecutor with it—the prisoner's brother was there—I heard the prisoner say, "I will kill him. I will strike him "—I took the prosecutor home—the prisoner ran away, and the police followed him.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not take the razor from the prosecutor; he took it from his own pocket—I have known the prosecutor about twenty months—we came from the same town in Italy, but different districts—he is not my nephew; he was my sponsor—I have not heard of his being charged with stabbing.
ISAAC COX (302 G). On December 16th, about 3.45 p.m., I was on duty in Eyre Street Hill, and saw a crowd, and a man named Fraulo forcing the prosecutor away, and the prisoner came behind him, drew something shiny across his breast, and I heard a cry of "Run"—the prisoner ran three or four hundred yards; I never lost sight of him till Stevens stopped him—he was taken to the station and charged, and on Sunday night, the 17th, Williams came to me and handed me this razor.
Cross-examined. I have heard that the prisoner is a very quiet, peaceable man—I saw a missionary at the Police-court who was there to speak to his character—I have heard that the prosecutor is a very quarrelsome man—he had broken away from Fraulo when I saw him.
GEORGE STEPHENS (287 G). On December 16th, about four p.m., I saw the prisoner running up the Clerkenwell Road towards me, followed by Cox—I stopped him; he struggled violently and said, "Me got no razor"—I had not told him what I stopped him for.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a carman, of 15, Leather Lane—on the afternoon of December 16th I saw a crowd on Eyre Street Hill, and saw the prisoner running—he threw this razor away; I picked it up and handed it to the police.
JOHN ALEXANDER MILLER . I am surgeon to the G division of police—on Saturday evening, 16th December, I examined the prosecutor, and found a large wound across the upper part of his right arm, four inches long and half an inch deep—it bled freely—it might have been done with this razor—this cut in his coat (produced) corresponds with the wound on his arm—I also found a punctured wound on the right side of his back, a superficial wound on his forehead, not through the skin, and another on his finger—considerable force must have been used to cut through the coat.
Witness for the Defence.
DOMENICO PRANZO (Interpreted). I am a modeller—on the afternoon of December 16th I was with the prisoner and about four men—we all went to Mr. Prole's shop on Eyre Street Hill—I went to pay for some clothes, and found a lot of people there quarrelling and drunk—one had an ice-picker, what they break the ice with—I saw the prisoner with a knife in his hand; and there was a row—I did not see the prisoner's brother there, he was on the other side—I went away because I was frightened for my life—I have known the prosecutor about eight years—I saw him four years ago in Hackney Road—I have known the prisoner two years; he is a very quiet chap, he never drinks or smokes—he is a musician belonging to a society.
Cross-examined. I was there the whole time—there were fourteen or fifteen people all rowing—we all ran away out of danger—the prisoner
had no razor, and he did not take one from his pocket—knowing the prosecutor's bad character, I ran away.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Three Months without Hard Labour.
MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted, and MR. P. TAYLOR Defended Simcock.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, January 13th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and GUY STEPHENSON Prosecuted, and MESSRS
JOHN ALFRED STRIBLING . I am a clerk in the Barnstaple County Court—I produce the file of proceedings in the defendant's bankruptcy—the petition was filed on 18th October, 1889; he was adjudicated bankrupt on 10th January, 1890—he has never applied for his discharge, and is still undischarged—his assets in the bankruptcy, according to the statement of affairs, were nil, and his liabilities £238 17s. 5d.—there is a notice on the file that he will object to the receiving order—that is signed by him and filed on 28th October, 1889—the first ground of his objection is that he had not resided or carried on business within the jurisdiction within six months, and the second that he is already an undischarged bankrupt.
ARTHUR VERNON HAYNES . I am manager to the estate office of the London and South-Western Railway, Waterloo—the prisoner, on 24th March, 1890, took a room from the company on the ground door of Hawkestone Hall (which is the old audit office, and is now let out in offices), at 11s. 6d. a week—on 28th April he took another room in the basement, paying for the two rooms £1 14s. 7d. a week, at the rate of £90 a year—he occupied both rooms—these are the two agreements—the prisoner signed them, "For the Eldon Dairy Company, ERNEST SCOTT JERVIS "—he left in September of that year—I saw no one in the occupation of those rooms except the prisoner and his wife, who was there once or twice, I think—the prisoner only had his business there; he did not sleep there—he told me when he took the rooms he was the manager of the Dairy Company.
Cross-examined. I saw him there four or five times, I daresay.
STEPHEN O'LEARY . I am a constable in the employment of the London and South-Western Railway Company, and I live and am care-taker at 114, Waterloo Road, the place where the prisoner's office was—he came there in April, 1890—he told me he was going to open the office as a dairy, and that he was going to fit up a place at the back with an engine, and have separators, and so forth, and he took a large room in
the basement for the purpose—the room above he occupied as an office—he furnished it with a writing-table, two or three chain, and odds and ends; there was nothing of any value there—"The Eldon Dairy" was painted on each side of the doorway—the office was only one room—he said he should want a manager, and I recommended Dunham, who had been in the dairy business, but was out of employment at the time—Dunham came there as an employe of the prisoner, and several men were engaged in the business—the business went on from April till about September—the prisoner came there daily as a rule; he came in a brougham, which used to stand outside the door, in the Waterloo Road—after he had been there some time I received frequent inquiries, and I spoke to the prisoner about them—one night a man rang the bell at about ten p.m., and said he wanted money—the prisoner was there at the time—next day I spoke to the prisoner about it, and said I wondered he did not answer the door, and pay his own debts, and not send the people to me—he said, "Come in my office"—I refused to go—he went inside and shut the door, and said, "D——you, go"—I have heard a good many people come there for money—I heard him say to one man, "Send the milk on; you shall have the money "—as a rule, he had the people in his office, if he was there—when the man rang the bell the prisoner put his head out of window, and said to him, "Go to the man at the area-gate downstairs, he is the one you want," and then he shut the window—if people came to the area gate they would come to me—that is what I complained of next morning—about the latter end of August a sheriff's officer was in possession, and the furniture was removed—the business did not come to an end just then; they had one or two more things in, and kept it on for three or four weeks longer, I daresay, and then it ceased—they were doing something there, I could not exactly say what—Dunham was there only two or three months—after he left another man came in his place—I should think Dunham left early in the summer—I heard that the prisoner had an accident, in the early part of August, I think—about the time of the accident they were going to take some of the milk-cans out one night—the milk-cans were decreasing.
Cross-examined. I first made a statement in this case about three months ago, I suppose—it was a full statement, similar to what I have said to-day—I mentioned about the incident of the man coming at night—he came about 10.15., I should think—the prisoner said, "Go to that fellow there; he is the one you want "—I refused to go into the prisoner's office next morning when he invited me; I don't think I did so impolitely.
GEORGE DUNHAM . I live at 81, Broomwood Road, Wandsworth Common—I was formerly a milk contractor—in the early part of 1890 I was out of business, and I was introduced to the prisoner at Waterloo Station by a policeman—the prisoner asked me if I would manage his new milk business—he said he was trying to make a business at Waterloo, and hoped he should do so—I was to be very particular, and everything I bought I was to pay cash for—I said I should be very pleased to take his business, and do the best I could for him—the business was to commence at once; I believe he had some milk there previously to engaging me—I saw some milk when I went—he engaged me as manager of the business—I don't think he had an office at that time, but soon afterwards
he had at 114, Waterloo Road—I had a salary of £2 a week—the name of the business was the Eldon Dairy Company—I went to the office every day, and stayed three or four hours, and sometimes the greater part of the day—I managed the business till August—when I was engaged he said he had some milk at Exeter; he asked me if I could get him a connection—I said I dared say I could get him some, and I asked where he would get the milk from—he said he could get it; he had some at Exeter, and he was having some at that time from Crewkerne—he asked me if I could get him any milk, by introducing friends, I suppose—I introduced farmers, Mr. Bridger and Mr. Richardson, of Petersfield, and got milk from them—the prisoner used to come to the business every day; he mostly walked—he came sometimes in a brougham or open carriage, according to the season of the year—my employment was to receive the milk, dispose of it, receive moneys for it, and give an account of it—I passed my time in the office entering things in the books and making butter—I made entries in this milk ledger in pencil—I kept no other book—the prisoner instructed me to keep it; he asked me to enter small figures in pencil, which I did—there was a young clerk in the office, Harvey, and also people who carried round the milk—I collected money once a week, and gave it to the prisoner sometimes, or sometimes I kept it for the purposes of the business, and to pay my £2 a week, rendering an account to the prisoner—after I had been there some time farmers came there for their money—the same farmer would come several times a week sometimes—three farmers came that I knew—I told the prisoner with regard to Bridger and Richardson, as I had introduced them; he said he would pay them, but he was very much annoyed; I ought not to interfere in his business, to talk to the farmers—I said I had not done so; they were old customers of mine when I was in business on my own account—I made some communication to Bridger and Richardson—in August I gave the prisoner notice, because I could not get my money, and on account of the farmers—I spoke to the prisoner about it—the prisoner sold the milk at one shilling and threepence halfpenny a barn gallon, I think; I may say I am sure—I told the prisoner that the business would not answer the way it was being carried on, as he was selling goods at a loss—the prisoner said, "That is the way we must get a connection"—I was a weekly servant; I gave him a week's notice in writing—I remained on six weeks longer—I left at the end of August, I think—the prisoner told me he had friends who had a very large estate, or Lord Eldon had a very large estate, with, I think, 25,000 acres in a ring fence, and he called the business the Eldon Dairy Company—he did not say who Lord Eldon was; he did not say he was his relation—I understood that he was a friend of his, and that he called it after his friend—I never saw. Smith or Philpott at the place in the Waterloo Road, nor did I know of them as having any connection with the business.
Cross-examined. I first made a statement to a solicitor about this matter in August, 1893, at Bow street—I think between the March and August there were four persons, in addition to myself, employed in the business—the prisoner told me, in the first instance, that he was managing the business called the "Eldon Dairy Company"; that it was a new business which he proposed to open at 114, Waterloo Road, and that he wanted a connection, and he asked me to assist him in making
one—my salary was paid during the time I remained with him—I was not told that the carriage in which the prisoner occasionally came was Mrs. Scott Jervis's—I occasionally saw her on the premises—she would come with her husband and remain some little time, or call for and go away with him—when she came she came in the carriage—I left of my own accord when I left—the prisoner's solicitor or counsel stated at Bow Street that I was discharged for being intoxicated, and I believe I admitted being intoxicated the night I left him, not previously—I certainly was not discharged for drunkenness—I was drunk the night I left, but that was after I had left his service—I left at six o'clock and had done business with him, and I went and asked for my money, and he refused to pay me—he did not refuse upon the ground that I was drunk; he never complained to me that I was drunk; he told me one day in the middle of the summer that I looked as if I drank—I said, no, I was a large smoker and it might be that—beyond that, he did not say I was intoxicated—I might have said, before the Magistrate, that the defendant complained on one occasion that I was intoxicated, but I denied it at the time.
Re-examined. Mrs. Scott Jervis would come there about lunch time—she drove there—in June and July I saw her there mostly every day—sometimes she stopped two or three hours, and then would go away, sometimes with the prisoner, and sometimes by herself—I do not know what she did at the office—when I gave the prisoner notice it had nothing to do with any complaint of my being drunk; no mention was made of it—before I went to Bow Street I made a statement to Inspector Baker.
JOHN EDWARD DAWE . I am a job-master of Victoria Yard, Broadway. Westminster—in August and September, 1890, I supplied the prisoner with horses for milk vans, at 114, Waterloo Road, and also with a single-horse brougham—he became indebted to me about £40—I first had a memorandum from him, to go and see him at his private house, Rosetti Gardens, Chelsea—I saw no one but the prisoner, and whatever orders I got came from him—when I saw him I asked him about the Eldon Dairy, what references he could give, and also who his directors were, and he said, "I am the Eldon Dairy Company; nothing goes nowadays without it is a company. You send your account in every week on Saturday, and I will pay you. You shall have a cheque on the Monday "—I knew and saw no one except the prisoner connected with the business—eventually I got my money down to about £7—I sued him for that balance in the County Court—he defended, and I think he told the Registrar that it was his wife's business—I got judgment against him—ten days or a fortnight ago I got £10 16s. 1d., the full amount of my judgment and costs—he does not owe me anything now—I got that since I was at this Court last time.
Cross-examined. I was paid from time to time £35 off my debt of £43, leaving the small outstanding balance, for which I sued.
RICHARD ARMSTRONG , Sen. I am an architect, of 18, Westbourne Park—about April, 1890, I advertised on behalf of Fuller Maitland, who owns the Stanstead Dairy Company in Essex—I received these two letters, and in consequence called at the Waterloo Road, and saw the prisoner at his office—I told him I was prepared to negotiate for the sale
of milk and butter in accordance with the advertisement—he said he was carrying on business there, and that he wished to get milk and cream—she said, "I am carrying on business myself as the Eldon Dairy Company; my reason for carrying it on under that name is that I do not wish my own name mixed up in the business on account of my family"—he explained that he was a gentleman, and had property in some part of England; I forget where exactly—he took me on to the platform of Waterloo Station, where milk was being delivered, and cans were standing about—he pointed out cans generally, and he represented that practically some of these represented part of the business he was carrying on—I afterwards had a meeting with him and Mr. Caygill, Mr. Maitland's agent, at the National Liberal Club—I introduced him to Mr. Caygill—practically our conversation was almost the same as that at my first interview with him—he never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined. I know nothing about the milk accounts passing between Caygill and the prisoner.
Re-examined. The memorandum I received from the prisoner had a printed heading.
JOSEPH CAYGILL . I live at Stanstead Park, Essex, and am agent to Mr. Fuller Maitland, who is proprietor of the Stanstead Park Dairy Company—in May, 1890, Mr. Armstrong introduced me to the prisoner at the National Liberal Club—we had lunch—I said "Who is the Eldon Dairy Company?" and he said, "Practically I am"—he said he called the business by that name because of his relations and connections being such that he thought it better that his name did not appear as a trader—he said his relations and connections were gentlemen of high position; he spoke of them as belonging to the aristocracy of England—I believed his statements—I am a member of the Club; the prisoner and Mr. Armstrong were my guests—I paid for the lunch—the prisoner did not tell me he was an undischarged bankrupt, or I do not think our business relations would have gone any further—I arranged to supply milk to him, and I supplied him with milk and cream for two or three months, to the amount of between £70 and £80—a payment was made, and eventually he owed me £42 15s.—I endeavoured to get it, but could not succeed—I put the matter into my solicitor's hands and got judgment, but no money—while this prosecution has been going on, about three weeks ago, I got £21, half the amount claimed.
Cross-examined. I had a cheque for about £36 off the £70 or £80; it was signed "For the Eldon Dairy Company, SCOTT JERVIS "—when I received the further payment I left the matter of the receipt in my solicitor's hands—I do not know if he gave a receipt in full discharge—I may have signed the receipt, but I don't know what it was—I was willing to take 10s. in the £—I heard that in the legal proceedings I took, Mrs. Scott Jervis was joined as a defendant, and that judgment was recovered against her—that action was left to my solicitor to do the best he could.
RICHARD ARMSTRONG , Jun. I am a solicitor, practising at Fenchurch Street—I was instructed on behalf of Mr. Fuller Maitland and Mr. Richardson to take proceedings against the Eldon Dairy Company or Mr. Scott Jervis—I searched at Somerset House to find out if the company was registered, but I could not find any registration there, and I made no other inquiries—I took proceedings against Mr. and Mrs. Scott Jervis,
coupling them, because there was a doubt on my part as to whom the business belonged—process was served by a process server—I applied for an order for substituted service—eventually I got judgment for Mr. Fuller Maitland and for Mr. Richardson—I got no fruits of the judgment—within the last few weeks I received for Mr. Fuller Maitland £21.
Cross-examined. There was a receipt in writing—in fact, I received the money in full satisfaction and discharge for the debts due from the Eldon Dairy Company.
Re-examined. These (produced) are office copies of the judgments.
WILLIAM FULLER MAITLAND , M. P. I live at Stanstead, Essex, and am proprietor of the Stanstead Dairy Company—Mr. Caygill is my agent—in the summer of 1890 milk and cream were supplied through him to the prisoner—he never informed me that he was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined. I saw him at Brook's Club in the summer of 1890—I don't remember all our conversation—if he had told me he was an undischarged bankrupt I should certainly have remembered it.
JOHN RICHARDSON . I am a wholesale dairyman, of Eastleigh, near Southampton, and have a dairy at Petersfield—about March, 1890, Dunham introduced me to the prisoner at 114, Waterloo Road—Dunham had written to me, and my object in coming was to sell the prisoner some cream—I arranged to send cream up every day—I knew the prisoner's name was Scott Jervis, and that the company was the Eldon Dairy Company—I supplied him with milk and cream—in consequence of the state of his account I went up to see him, and he then said the Eldon Dairy consisted of himself and his wife and family; there was no one else in it—he never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt—at the time of the conversation he owed me between £100 and £160—I was up almost daily at this time to get accounts in—at the time these proceedings were taken he owed me £168 7s. 2d.—on 8th or 9th December last I was paid half of that amount, and I gave a receipt in full—before these proceedings commenced I had a communication from Mr. Caygill, and I employed Mr. Armstrong, and got judgment against the prisoner for £168—this is the memorandum form he used to communicate with me upon.
Cross-examined. I was at Waterloo Road nearly every day some weeks—I supplied milk and cream up to about £50 a week; I think the account came to about £50 a week—I could not tell you if £385 worth was supplied, or if £235 was paid off—a substantial sum was paid off from time to time.
JAMES GATEHOUSE . I live at Hewlett's Farm, Dorset—in April, 1890; I saw an advertisement in the Western Gazette, and in consequence communicated with the Eldon Dairy Company, at 114, Waterloo Road, and after that supplied milk to that company—cans were sent to us which we filled and forwarded to Waterloo—eventually £21 was due to me—on Whit Monday, 1890, I went and saw the prisoner, but was not able to get my money—he promised me a cheque in a day or two—not getting my money I sued him in the County Court, and got judgment in August, 1890—he never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt—last December I received 10s. in the pound, in respect of what was due to me, through Messrs. Mear and Fowler, the prisoner's solicitors—a receipt in full was sent to me to sign, and I signed it.
RICHARD BRIDGER . I live at the Darley Farm, Rogate, near Peters field, and am a farmer—about April, 1890, I was introduced by Dunham to the prisoner at Waterloo Station—Dunham said, "This gentleman is. going to open a milk trade here, and no doubt he will want some milk; if you have any milk to spare no doubt we can take it"—the prisoner said he was going to open a milk trade; it was the Eldon Dairy—he said nothing else about it—he did not tell me he was an undischarged bankrupt—I supplied milk and cream—when £26 6s. 3d. was owing to me, I went and saw the prisoner—he asked what business I had to come at the beginning of the week for money, Friday or Saturday was his pay-day—I said I could not come up on those days, and asked him to send the money—he did not send it—I took no other steps to get my money—I got letters from the prisoner which I gave to the solicitor at Bow Street—I introduced the prisoner to a neighbouring farmer, Mrs. Harris, who has since died—I did that after Dunham wrote and asked me to do so.
Cross-examined. I received last December half the amount of my debt, and I gave a receipt in full.
Re-examined. I signed and returned a document that was sent to me.
CHARLES HARRIS . I am a farmer, of Dartford Manor Farm, Rogate, near Petersfield—in April, 1890, I sent milk in my own cans to the Eldon Dairy Company, 114, Waterloo Road—the labels were sent to me—eventually £40 odd was due for milk—I sent accounts from time to time—not being able to get the money, I came up to town at the end of June, saw the prisoner, and asked him for the money—he said most of his customers were West-end people, and they paid quarterly, and it took a lot of money, but he would forward me a cheque, and if I would supply him with Alderney or Guernsey milk he would pay me a penny a gallon, more for it—I said, "You pay me what you owe me, and I will supply you with Alderney or Guernsey milk"—he did not send a cheque—I put the matter into Armstrong's hands, and sued the prisoner—I did not get any money—I was never informed that the prisoner was an undischarged bankrupt—I have lately received 10s. in the pound from Mear and Fowler—I signed the document given to me.
JOHN EZEKIEL STANLEY . I am a milk-can maker, at 191, Upper Kennington Lane—subsequently to the beginning of May, 1890, I supplied milk cans to the Eidon Dairy Company to the value of £24 13s. 5d.—the prisoner wrote to me, and I went to see him and he gave me the order—I went once or twice to get money, the first time on the 16th May—I saw him each time—he promised me money on two or three occasions, and on 27th June he gave me a cheque for £15—I asked him to cross it—he said there was no occasion; I could take it to the bank and get it cashed—I got a friend to take it to the bank for me, and I got the money—I saw the prisoner on the following Saturday, and he said I was an artful man—I asked him why—he said, "Why, you passed that cheque through the bank the same day that I gave it to you"—he never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt—I knew nothing of it—at the commencement of this month I received 10s. in the pound, and I gave a receipt in full.
Cross-examined. The outstanding balance was £9 odd.
and said he was starting the Eldon Dairy Company in Waterloo Road—I asked who would pay me—he said, "My name is Scott Jervis, and my address Rosetti Gardens Mansions. I am the Eldon Dairy Company"—he ordered three sets of harness—this is the account—he gave us the drawing of the crest to put on the harness—the account came to £22 18s.—having supplied the things I afterwards tried to get the money—I applied personally three or four times at Rosetti Gardens—I found it difficult to see the prisoner; I saw him—he had just met with an accident—he said he was unable to use his arm, which had been put out through a fall from a Victoria, and as soon as he was able he would come and see me and settle—that was early in April—I did not get the money—I sued him, but I got no money—when I supplied the goods the prisoner made no statement about Mrs. Scott Jervis—her name was not mentioned in connection with the order—I have recently been paid 10s. in the pound—a document was sent me, which I signed, giving a receipt in full.
RICHARD TILLING . I am a livery stable keeper, at Winchester House, High Street, Peckham—in May, 1890, the prisoner called and told me he had a dairy business in the Waterloo Road, and asked me whether we should be willing to contract for the supply of the horses for his carts—I told him we did not horse retail milk carts; he said his business was a wholesale one—he said the business was called the Eldon Dairy Company, and that it was called a company because companies generally went down better with the public—he said he was a military man—I asked him if he knew anything about a milk business; he said he did not know anything about a milk business generally, but he knew the Army and Navy Stores had been made a success by military men, and he did not know why he should not make a success of a milk business—I agreed to let him have horses for the milk carts, and also a Victoria, horse, and man in livery—that went on till an accident happened to the Victoria, on the first Monday in August—the prisoner then owed me £20 or £25—he never told me he was an undischarged bankrupt—I knew no one connected with the Eldon Dairy Company except the prisoner; he said he was the Eldon Dairy Company—after the accident (the Victoria broke down), he commenced an action against me for negligence, joining his wife as a plaintiff and sued me in respect of the damage—the documents were supplied to my solicitors—the action was eventually settled, I paying over £200 for damages and costs on 8th July, 1891.
Cross-examined. He did not describe himself to me as manager of the company—I never went to the premises—I saw him about six or twelve times—this is the first time I have given evidence in this case—the amount of my debt was £22 11s.; it was included in the settlement of the action.
CHARLES FAITHAAM . I live at 66, Clarence Road, and am clerk to Harry Johnson, builder, Wood Green—in 1890 he was landlord of Rosetti Mansions, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, a building let in flats—the prisoner called at our office, and in consequence I called on him at 11, Rosetti Mansions—I understood him to say he was a dairyman, or in the milk business—I let the flat at 51, Rosetti Gardens Mansions to him at £80 a year—he said nothing about being an undischarged bankrupt—subsequently that flat was sold by Mr. Johnson to Mr. Cholmondely Pennell.
Cross-examined. I have not been examined before—he had been the tenant of No. 11, Rosetti Gardens, and moved from there to No. 51.
Re-examined. I believe he had had No. 11 for three months; I am not sure.
HENRY CHOLMONDELY PENNELL . I live at 57, Rosetti Gardens Mansions, and am landlord of the flat formerly occupied by the prisoner—during 1891 I distrained a second time for my rent, by accident, after it bad been paid, and the prisoner brought an action against me, claiming damages for illegal distraint—he was not successful; he appealed and lost; I won my action against him—I think two quarters' rent was due to me without counting the costs—he paid some money into Court—eventually two quarters' rent was due, for which I obtained judgment—about three weeks ago I received 10s. in the pound, and I gave a discharge for everything—until the action was tried I did not know he was an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined. Then it was mentioned in Court by my solicitor—I have not given evidence in this matter before.
GEORGE CALLIFORD . I am manager to Mr. Tom Brown, tailor, Conduit Street—in 1890 the prisoner came, and I understood he was an independent gentleman at first—afterwards he gave his business address in the Waterloo Road; when I asked for his private address he said that would always find him—he ordered clothes for his son, who was going to Eton—the account, £27 6s. 6d., has not been paid—he never told me what his business was; I went and found out.
----SALTER. I am an officer of the High Court of Justice—I produce the records in the cases of Pennell v. Scott Jervis, Maitland v. Scott Jervis, Richardson v. Scott Jervis, and Scott Jervis v. Tilling.
Witnesses for the Defence.
PERCY CHARLES HARVEY . I am a solicitor, of Clement's Inn, Strand—at the end of 1889 and beginning of 1890 I was solicitor to Messrs, Smith and Philpott in one transaction, relating to the business of the Eldon Dairy Company, and that only—on 13th January, 1890, an agreement was come to between them and the prisoner, by which he was appointed their manager of the Eldon Dairy Company—this is a plain copy of the agreement; we cannot put our hand on the original; it was signed at my office—I believe Smith and Philpott were proprietors of the Eldon Club in Chancery Lane at the time—the Eldon Dairy was carried on by Smith and Philpott down to March, 1890, and then it was transferred to Mrs. Scott Jervis by this document, dated 11th March, 1890.
Cross-examined. The prisoner came to me in September, 1889, when he was carrying on some business in the name of Scott Jervis and Co. at Barnstaple, for the purpose of being served with a bankruptcy notice from some people in Darlington, in respect of a debt of £79 19s. 10d, which he had incurred—we had a long talk then—I waft very favourably impressed with him—I understood that a member of the firm who were the judgment creditors had been defeated by him in some local election,
and he attributed the bankruptcy proceedings to political spite—I was admitted in 1878—I believed his story, and I arranged to raise money for him to meet the amount of the judgment creditors' claim—they were Emly and Sons, of Darlington—he told me that was the only pressing claim of any kind against him—as the result of my conversation with him I spoke to a friend, Mr. Philpott, a barrister, and he and I jointly advanced him £80 for the purpose of setting this bankruptcy notice—Philpott, Smith, and I afterwards advanced him other sums for the purpose of the Eldon Dairy Company milk and butter businesses at Exeter, Barnstaple, and London—Philpott, Smith, and I paid, £150 into an account, in the name of Smith and Philpott, at Exeter—there was an arrangement that he was to furnish weekly accounts, he being the manager—so far as I know he never remitted any account—Smith and Philpott went to Exeter to endeavour to get some account—I have not seen them here to-day—Smith and Philpott were dissatisfied at not being able to get accounts, and, as I had introduced the prisoner to them, I was anxious to get the matter closed with as little loss to them as possible—I communicated with the prisoner on the subject several times, personally, and by letter, and, a few days before 11st March, 1890, probably, I suggested to Smith and Philpott separately the terms I thought I might be able to arrange to get back some of the money which they had put in (I communicated this to the prisoner)—for the £80 I had advanced I took the prisoner's bill at six months for £100—that was not met at maturity; it was in connection with the bankruptcy notice, not the Eldon Dairy—I spoke to the prisoner, Smith, and Philpott about the terms embodied in the agreement of 11th March—I understood that the original Barnstaple business of Scott Jervis and Co. was Mrs. Scott Jervis's, and that this agreement was practically merely a re-transfer to the original proprietors—his bankruptcy was frequently spoken of between us; I think he knew more about the bankruptcy law than I did—I don't think that it was suggested that the Eldon Dairy should be his business—they were his wife's cheques which were given for it—they were either post-dated, or it was arranged that they should not be presented, one for three months and the other for six months—Smith and Philpott did not see Mrs. Scott Jarvis, so far as I know—I know nothing about the business at Waterloo Station—after March I ceased all connection with the matter; when I found it utterly impossible to get any part of my money repaid I gave up wasting my time—I had nothing to do with the cheques—I paid Philpott £40, his share of the £80, with ten per cent., and I had also put £50 into the Eldon Company, which remains there now.
Re-examined. There should have been £150 paid into the Exeter Bank.
GEORGE GIFFORD FOWLER . I am solicitor to the prisoner, and I have been acting, and still act as solicitor to Mrs. Scott Jervis—upon her behalf I first applied to Mr. Justice Kennedy, as vacation judge, to give Mrs. Scott Jervis power, as she had only a life interest, to raise money by means of a mortgage, insuring her life for the amount she was allowed to raise—the terms of the section are explicit that such an application can only be acceded to when it is for her own benefit—Mr. Justice Kennedy adjourned it to Mr. Justice Chitty, and it came before him on 1st November, and he acceded to it, with the result that we were able to
raise about £1,200, which was devoted to the purpose of arranging a settlement with her creditors—a schedule of her debts was submitted to the Court—it would have paid twenty shillings in the pound to the creditors who were prosecuting her, but not to all the creditors—his Lordship allowed a certain sum for us to do the best we could with—we had to deal with all on the same footing—some of the claims were not admitted; all the Eldon Dairy claims were—we desired to effect an amicable arrangement; where they would settle for ten shillings in the pound we did so—every Eldon creditor was paid ten shillings in the pound, except Mr. Dawe, who was paid in full.
Cross-examined. I was not acting for the prisoner at the time the business was being carried on at Waterloo—I had nothing to do with the action brought against Tilling, or with the transfer of the business, or with Smith and Philpott's business—I have acted for Mrs. Scott Jervis for some two and a half years—I cannot say, without looking at the papers, how many judgments have been obtained against her in different parts of the country—I have not got the schedule—since I have known her she has lived at Rosetti Mansions, and her present residence near Oxford—I found there were probably five or six judgments at Wallingford; that is their last residence, where they have been for eighteen months—they went there from Rosetti Mansions—I don't remember any judgments at Brompton—I have attended to the matter generally, but the details have been attended to by different members of my staff—I don't remember how many judgments were obtained at Reading; I don't remember a single one at Lewes—I should be dealing in some cases with judgment creditors without knowing in which Courts they were obtained—I don't remember any judgments at Brighton, Southwark, Shaftesbury, Darlington, Birmingham, Hinckley, or Buxton—I know Harvey—I was a member of the Eldon Club for many years—I am not quite sure whether I have had any conversation with Smith or Philpott—I settled the claims by direct communication with the creditor or his solicitor—I don't remember settling a case at Eastbourne—I did the best I could in each case—one creditor said he would take five shillings, and I said I was in a position to pay him ten shillings—a form of receipt was prepared to send to creditors; and it was sent with, or before or after the money—a receipt was given in full in every case—the matter of Smith and Philpott's cheques was before I began to act for Mrs. Jervis, which was in 1891—I settled a case at Eastbourne—I could tell you the names of towns where claims where settled if I had a list of the names and addresses of creditors; I don't remember them—I don't remember paying money to any creditors at Windsor or Eton.
GUILTY.— A police inspector proved that the prisoner had Pleaded Guilty to offences under the Debtors' Act in March, 1877, at this Court.—Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
199. THOMAS WICKS(26), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing two pairs of trousers and other articles, the goods of Frank Rayment Lewis;also to stealing a reefer jacket and a comb, the goods of Sarah Ann Low; also to stealing a coat and other articles, the goods of Harry Haydon Walker— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
WILLIAM POUCHER . I am a coal heaver, of 646, Lift Row, Poplar—on the evening of the 1st of January I was in the Duke of Sussex Public-house—I had some money on me—the two prisoners came in; I did not know them before—they spoke to me and wanted to pick a quarrel with me—I left at about 9.50—I was not the worse for liquor—when I got outside the prisoners crossed the road to me; Stevens collared me round my neck and Robinson came in front and dived his hand into my left inside pocket and took all the money I had, about two shillings—they went away as quick as they could—I met a constable and spoke to him—we went in search of the prisoners, and found them at the Old George, at the end of the same street—I gave Robinson into custody first, and then Stevens came up and said, "What is the matter?" and I said, "He is the man that held me."
Cross-examined by Stevens. You said, at the Police-court, I was drunk—the landlady of the Duke of Sussex was there to say whether I was drunk—I don't know whether she said she did not remember seeing either of you—I was robbed in a main street—I was not drunk.
JOHN TONER . I am a potman at the Duke of Sussex, Beresford Street, Woolwich—on 1st January I saw Robinson and the prosecutor in the bar about 9.15; I did not see Stevens—we have three bars—Robinson left some little time before the prosecutor, who deemed to be perfectly sober—he had had beer in the house—Robinson had had ginger beer, and was sober.
JANE TICKNER . I am married, and am the deputy of a lodging-house, 77, High Street, Woolwich—Robinson lodges there—I never saw Stevens before New Year's night—on that night Stevens and Robinson were in the house together when I came down from showing a couple to bed—it was 10.15—they remained about a quarter of an hour in company.
By the COURT. The lodging-house is about ten minutes' walk from the Duke of Sussex—I had only just been upstairs to show the couple to bed, and the prisoners must have come in about the time I was upstairs; they were not there before I went up.
Cross-examined by Robinson. I don't remember your coming in for your coat about 9.30 or 9.45; I was not there then.
WILLIAM LAMB (452 R). At 10 p.m. on 1st January I was on duty in Beresford Street—the prosecutor made a complaint, and gave me a description—I searched for the men—Robinson came out of the George and Dragon, in High Street, the same night; he turned in the opposite direction to the way we came—I stopped him, in consequence of the prosecutor's
description, and the prosecutor came up, and I said, "Do you recognise this man?"—he said, "Yes, this is the man that took the money out of my pocket"—Robinson said, "I have not taken any money out of your pocket"—Stevens came out of the public-house—I think he said, "What is the matter, Fred?"—he said, "This man," pointing to the prosecutor, "charges me with stealing money out of his pocket"—the prosecutor looked up and down him, and said, "You are the man that held me while he took the money out of my pocket"—Stevens corresponded with the description of one of the men—I took them in charge—I found on Stevens 4d., and on Robinson 6d. silver, 4d. bronze.
Cross-examined by Stevens. I did not see you till you came up—when he said you were the man that held him, you said, "I know nothing about it; I will come with you quietly."
WILLIAM POUCHER (Re-examined). I had 8d. and 6d., and I might have had 1s.; it was mostly in coppers—I am not quite sure about the Is—there might have been more than 2s.—I had 4s. 6d. when I went into he public-house, two florins and 6d.—I cannot be sure what I spent—I went in about nine, and this occurred shortly before ten—I was in there about an hour—I met a friend, and paid for drink for him; there were three of us.
The prisoners, in their defence, denied any knowledge of the matter. Stevens produced certificates of discharge from the Army, showing that he bore a good character
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
201. JAMES MALINGS PLEADED GUILTY to fraudulently removing goods within four months of his bankruptcy, with intent to defraud; also to making a charge upon his property, with intent to defraud his creditors. He received a good character.— Two Months' Imprisonment, without Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
202. LOGAN AIRD(51), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining money by false pretences, with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a receipt for 16s., with intent to defraud. The prosecutor recommended him to mercy.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
203. JOHN WILLIAMS(37) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Ernest Edward Wilshire, and stealing a handkerchief and other goods, his property.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. And
204. ALFRED ARTHUR** (40) [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] , to feloniously possessing a mould for coining pennies; also to unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, and to uttering the same.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
206. GEORGE FAIR (25), ALBERT EDWARDS(20), and GEORGE WATTS(19) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Richard Campbell, and stealing four coats, one clock, and other articles, his property. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same.
MR. HARDY Prosecuted.
RICHARD CAMPBELL . I am a billiard marker, of 29, Peter Street—on December 7th, I left home at 8.55, and shut the door—I returned at 1.15 and found the police in possession of the house, and three boxes broken open, and all my clothing taken except what I had on, and some boots and a clock—this is my property (Produced)—I know Watts, but not the other prisoners—I have sheltered Watts occasionally, and sometimes he has slept in the room the things were stolen from—I have the two bottom rooms, and the two top rooms are occupied by his sister; he visited her occasionally.
Cross-examined by Watts. The last time you slept at my place was last winter.
By the COURT. I never had any words with Watts; I lost a very old sixpence—we had a few words over it, and I said he should not sleep there any more—there is only one door to my house.
FREDERICK BOWLES (Police Sergeant M). On December 8th, between 12.30 and 12.45, I went to 29, Peter Street—the outer door had been opened by someone pushing it; the catch had been pushed off—I went into the room, and saw three boxes broken open—this poker was lying on one of the boxes, and the marks on the boxes coresponded with it—I made inquiries, and went to 212, High Street, Borough, a common lodging-house, and saw Watts—I said I should arrest him on suspicion of breaking and entering 29, Peter Street—he said, "I can prove I was in bed at nine o'clock"—I took him to the house, and afterwards to the lodging-house with the prosecutor—the proprietor of the lodging-house was there, and a constable—I found on the bed this overcoat, and this sack under the bed, with the mouth upwards, and Fair lying on the mouth—I awoke him, and said, "Can you give me any information how you came in possession of this property?"—he made no reply—I found this pair of boots under the bed—I saw the constable find a clock under Edwards' bed—I told them the charge—they made no reply—I took them to the station—all these things were in the sack except one pair of boots—the bed was against the wall, and the sack was between the bed and the wall, and the mouth of it on the bed, and he was lying on it; it was hidden.
FREDERICK HANCHETT (32 M R). On December 8th about two a.m., I went to 212, High Street, Borough, with a policeman and the prosecutor—I went to a bed occupied by Edwards, and told him he would be charged with other men in breaking and entering 29, Peter Street—he got out of bed; I turned it up, and found this clock between the bed and mattress—the prosecutor said, "That is my clock; it has one leg off"—Edwards said, "I did not know it was there; somebody must have put it there."
ANNIE CAMPBELL . I am the prosecutor's wife—on December 7th I returned home about 11.30, and found the door broken open, and a poker in the room which I had left in the wash-house; the boxes had been broken open with it—most of this clothing belongs to my husband; the linen belongs to me—Watts' sister lives in the house, and he has
been in the habit of visiting her—he has been in the room where these things were—I am on good terms with him.
Cross-examined by Watts. You were there last on the Saturday before the burglary—you slept there last some time in the spring.
HENRY READ . I am deputy in charge of 212, Borough High Street—on 8th December between eight and nine p.m., I saw Edwards pass with a brown bag like this on his back; it was full—the other two prisoners were with him—Edwards paid for four beds for the three prisoners and another man, and put down 1s. 6d.—I was present when the police came, and saw them find the property.
JAMES CHALLENGER . I keep this lodging-house—on December 8th I went upstairs with the constable, who told Watts he wanted him—he said, "What for?"—he told him, and Watts said he had been in bed ever since 9.30—he took him out of the house—I then went upstairs, and noticed that Edwards was not asleep; I listened, and heard a conversation—I looked under the bed, and saw a bag—I gave information at the station, and ordered the house to be locked up—I opened it with a key, took the constable up, and showed him what I had seen.
Watts's statement before the Magistrate: "Why should I be suspected because I am on friendly terms with them?"
Fair's defence. I went up to bed at 9.30; the door was locked, and I could not get down again.
Edwards's defence. I went to bed between nine and 9.30.
Watts's defence. I pushed the door, and it came open. I went up and told my sister that anybody could come in and take anything they had got. On the night of the robbery I went to bed about 9.30, and at 1.30 a detective came and said I was wanted downstairs, and the sergeant took me in custody. I went upstairs and found a pair of shoes, which did not belong to me.
GUILTY on the Second Count. WATTS then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Lambeth, on February 2nd, 1893, in the name of John Davis . FAIR and EDWARDS— Six Month's Hard Labour each. WATTS**— Nine Month's Hard Labour.
CHARLES WRIGHT (Police sergeant L). I produce a certificate of the marriage of James Fardley and Emily Marion Reynolds, on April 10th, 1882, and another of the marriage of James Farr to Elizabeth Hayes Tomkins, on June 1st, 1891—I have compared them with the registers at Somerset House; they are true copies—I arrested the prisoner on December 27th, and told him the charge—he said, "All right," and on the way to the station he said, "I was going to give myself up in half an hour."
SOPHIA STEMBRIDGE . I am the wife of John Stembridge, of Blackfriars on April 10th, 1892, I was at St. John's Church, Blackfriars, where the prisoner was married to Emily Marion Reynolds—they lived together three years—I saw Emily Reynolds yesterday—she left him; I do not bow what for, and I did not see her afterwards—I was not on good terms with them.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You behaved well to her—you are a hard-working man, and tear a good character, as far as I know.
ELIZABETH HAYES TOMKINS . I live at 9, Manchester Buildings—on June 1st, 1892, I was married to the prisoner at All Saints' Church, Newington—he gave his name as James Law, and described himself as a widower—I was a widow—we lived together up to last May, when he went away to get work, and never returned—he did not behave badly to me—I first heard that he was married seven weeks ago to-day—he wrote to me, and told me he was unable to get work, and in one letter he said he would come and see me—he used to come and meet me at the station, but I had not seen him for five weeks—I have had one child by the marriage.
CLARA FARDLEY . I am the prisoner's sister-in-law—he behaved well to his wife, but she went away with another man—I went after her, and asked her to come back, and she refused—so far as I know, he never had any communication with her after that—she left her little child in the street, and I said I would bring it up as my own—he has teen a hard-working, respectable man—he is a dock labourer—he has teen long known as James Fair, and I am known as Farr too.
Prisoner's defence. My wife left me. I went home at nine o'clock, and my child was nowhere to be found. At last I did find her, and put her to bed; but I could not find my wife. I afterwards saw her in a public-house in Blackfriars Road, and asked her if she intended to come back to me. She said, "No"; what she had done could not be undone. I heard no more of her for about three years, and I was told that after seven years I could marry again. I came across Mrs. Tomkins; she was a widow; she knew my real name, and asked me if I should like to marry her, and I did so. She kept telling people she was still a widow, and she would not allow her children to call me Dad. I said, "I had better get out of this." I do not suppose I earned more than fifteen shillings in four weeks, and she told me to go, as she had got a man who could keep her; so I went away.
E. H. TOMKINS (Re-examined). I knew that the prisoner had been married before, and he told me that his wife had gone away with another man, and died in child-birth—I have teen getting aid from the Charity Organisation Society, and am working at ironing—I was intimate with the prisoner before marriage, and urged him to go through the ceremony, because I wished my child to be legitimate—I have three children by my former husband—I know his sister-in-law; she has never told me that his wife went away and left him.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY— One Month, without Hard Labour.
MR. KEITH FRITH Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. PASMORE Prosecuted; MR. DRAKE defended Ford.
JAMES BURFORD . I am resident managing director of the London and Birmingham Manufacturing Company, Richmond—it is sometimes called "Reynolds," because Mr. Reynolds is the proprietor—on December 20th I locked up the premises, and next morning found that an entrance had been made from Red Lion Street at the back, and through the back office—we found the back gate open; they had evidently got over it, and forced the lock coming back—the till was broken open, and £1 taken, which was left for change, and 15d. from a bowl on a desk—this hospital box was forced, and over £2 taken from it—I missed a football, price 6s. 8d.—an attempt had been made upon the safe, but it was not opened—another old safe which was not locked had been emptied, and the contents scattered about the office.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. Castle Yard is in Hill Street, about three minutes' walk off—this football has been very little Used—I recognise it by the letter "U" stamped on the bottom—we have only just commenced keeping them—it is a common class of football—the "U "is not our mark; it is a common trade mark; we have no private mark on it.
Re-examined. I have very little doubt it is the ball I missed.
THOMAS MINARD . I live in Princes Road, Richmond—on December 20th, about 10.30 p.m., I was with the prisoners—they both said they were going into Reynolds' to get what they could—they were at the back gate—I waited about a quarter of an hour, and then went away, and next morning I saw them about 10.30, and they said that they got 3s. between them from Reynolds'—they had asked me in the morning if I was going with them—I said, "Yes," and they told me to look out while they went in.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. I have known Ford some little time, and saw him three or four times a week—I met Sergeant Hawkins the day afterwards; he was going to me to get me as a witness—he was going to arrest me—I saw Ford twice on the Wednesday, morning and evening—he lives at 3, Castle Yard—I saw him in the evening near the Queen's Head, quite close to where he lives—when he spoke to me in the evening he did not leave me; we all three went together—I last saw Ford when he and Holt got over—Sergeant Hawkins mentioned to me first that I had been in Ford's company, and I tried to shelve it off myself, and so save myself—it was about ten o'clock when Ford saw me at the Queen's Head—he did not say "Good-night" and go towards his home—I next saw Ford, I think, next morning,—he asked me a question at the Police-court—he did not deny my seeing him the next morning—he did not say he had been for his father to Twickenham, and did not see me—he denied having seen me next morning—I saw him between Wednesday and Saturday morning—I had not seen him on the Monday and Tuesday—I told him I was going to get some money at Mr. Medger's, the shoemaker's—I told him I had committed a burglary there, and got £4 10s.,
and gave my brother £2 10s. and kept £2 myself—that was a lie—he did not say that evening, outside the Queen's Head Hotel, "I shall go home, and have nothing to do with you "—he did not leave me at the Queen's Head that Wednesday evening.
Cross-examined by Holt. I first saw you at 10.30 on the 21st.
By the COURT. I am seventeen years old—I did not tell Ford the lie that I had committed a burglary, to incite him—I took part of the proceeds—Holt is younger than me; I do not think Ford is—I cannot tell you why I told them that lie—it was the day before this burglary—it was after that that they agreed to see what they could get out of this place—I know I am on my oath, and liable to be tried for perjury if I tell a lie—I did not tell them that in order that they should try to get what they could from the shop—I told them at dinner time the next day—I had not seen the constable then.
WILLIAM BULLAR . I live at 22, Castle Street, Richmond—on December 30th, about ten p.m., I was with the prisoners and Minard in Red Lion Street for about five minutes—the last time I saw them was about eleven o'clock, in Red Lion Street—I am sure the two prisoners were together at eleven o'clock—I am errand boy at a provision shop.
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. I told Detective Horton the next day, Thursday, that I had seen the three lads together—I sleep where I work—I begin work at seven a.m.—I go to bed about eleven—I am not generally out at eleven o'clock—I did not see Ford leave them; the three were always together, I did not see them part—I did not see the prisoners without Minard.
Cross-examined by Holt. I saw you with Ford about ten, and again about eleven.
THOMAS HAWKINS (Police Sergeant V). In consequence of what Minard said to me I went to Ford's house, and told him I had come to arrest him for breaking into Reynolds' shop, and stealing some money and a football—I said, "I believe you have the football "—he said, "Yes, here is a football I bought of a young man at Mortlake, who I do not know, to sell again"—I took him to the station, and then told Holt I should arrest him—he said, "I know nothing about it."
Cross-examined by MR. DRAKE. Ford gave me the football at once; it was not concealed—football is played at Richmond Green—Ford did not tell me that he gave 3s. for the football.
Fords statement before the Magistrate: "At 10.30 I was at the Queen's Head, and at eleven o'clock I was indoors."
Holt, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that, he was in bed, and did not come down till eleven next morning, and did not see Minard till Saturday morning, and knew nothing about it.
HOLT— Nine Month's Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, FEBRUARY 5TH, 1894.