CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 19TH, 1894.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
Vol. CXXXI 1894-95
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, INCLUDING CASES COMMITTED TO THIS COURT UNDER ORDER IN COUNCIL, PURSUANT TO THE WINTER ASSIZE ACT OF 1879, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, November 19th, 1894, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. SIR JOSEPH RENALS, Knt., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., and the Hon. Sir RICHARD HENN COLLINS , Knt., Justices of Her Majesty's High Court of Justice; Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., Sir JAMES WHITEHEAD , Bart., M.P., Sir GEORGE ROBERT TYLER , Bart., SIR STUART KNILL , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , Q.C., M.P., K.C.M.G.; Recorder of the said City; Sir WALTER WILKIN , Knt., HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , Esq., ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., JOHN POUND , Esq., WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR , Esq., JAMES CHARLES BELL , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
RENALS, MAYOR. FIRST 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, November 19th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. NELSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM THOMPSON . I live at 28, Carr Street, New North Road, Hoxton, and am a potman—at 12.35 a.m., on 1st November, I left the public-house, at which I am employed; I wished the constable good-night at the corner of Arlington Street, and went towards home—when I was ten yards from the public-house I met the three prisoners coming along New North Road towards me—without anything being said they hustled and tripped me up, and when I attempted to rise they knocked me down again—I cannot say which of the three prisoners struck me—I felt John Davis's hands in my pockets; I am positive—there was a good gaslight opposite us, and I could see him—I called out "Police," and the three men ran away, and I gave chase with a constable, who caught John Davis—he was in my sight the whole time till he was caught—the constable when he came round the corner was about ten yards from me, but he ran faster than I did—the three men separated at the corner of Wilton Street—on 3rd November I went to the Police-court, and identified Heath at once from eight or nine others—I have no doubt about him—I again went on 8th November to the Police-court, and identified William Davis from eight or nine men; I have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined by John Davis. I did not at first say that you did not put your hand in my pocket, and then after the police spoke to me say that you did.
seven or eight men were standing there, and I stood to see them go away—about two minutes after I went round the corner, and I saw the prosecutor lying in the road calling for help, and the three prisoners over him—I walked towards them, and the prisoners ran away—I, followed by the prosecutor, chased them for 300 or 400 yards, and caught John Davis—the prosecutor came up, and said, "That is the man that put his hand in my pocket"—I asked him if he would charge him—he said, "Yes"—I took him to the station—just before the prosecutor came up John Davis said, "I know nothing about this. I did not strike him, and I did not rob him; in fact I know nothing about it"—when I came round the corner into Arlington Street, the three men were seven to ten yards from me—I followed them 150 yards before they came to a turning—I kept John Davis in sight until I arrested him—I know the prisoners well by sight—I have known them for five years; I am positive they are the men.
Cross-examined by John Davis. I did not see you on the ground—I did not walk by you—you all ran off' when I came round the corner—you sent me a letter when you were in Holloway, giving me the names of two men who, you said, did this, and inquiries have been made—you never suggested before that you had been pushed on to the prosecutor by two other men.
Cross-examined by John Davis. I have not seen the two men; I have not called on them.
William Davis called
ADA DAVIS . I am the wife of John Davis—I heard on this night that my husband was locked up—I was with William Davis at the corner near the public-house, about five minutes' walk from where this assault took place—I left him at 12.30 a.m. at his door, 4, Devizes Street, Hoxton, which is about five minutes' walk from where the assault took place—I next saw him at 12.55, when I heard my husband was locked up, and went to William Davis, who live next door to me—I called to him up at the window, and he came down and opened the door for me in his shirt, and I went upstairs and told him what I had heard about his brother, and he said, "Never mind, don't cry, go to bed"—I was up at half-past six next morning, and went and had my breakfast with him—I had been standing at my door waiting for my husband between the time William Davis left me till I heard at 12.55 that my husband was locked up.
GEORGE STONEMAN . I am a fancy cabinet maker—I live at 4, Devizes Street, in the same house as William Davis—I was just going indoors at 12.25 or 12.30 on this night, and I saw Willam Davis come through the street; he followed me in—I went straight indoors and I saw him there—I heard Mrs. Davis come and call him—I was then upstairs in bed, in the room next to him—I sleep in the second floor back—I heard her come up and knock at her brother-in law's door—he went and let her in, and she knocked then at his door—it was the street door she knocked at—I did not hear her ask for or call out to him—she was at the street door when she spoke to him—I did not hear what was said; I only heard her knock—all I know about it is that I heard someone knock at the front door who I believe was Mrs. Davis.
Cross-examined, I saw the prisoner at 12.25, and the next was the knock at the door by Ada Davis half an hour afterwards—I live 250 or 300 yards from where the assault took place.
ELEANOR HEATH . I am your mother—on the last Wednesday in October (I think it was the 31st) you came home very wet from a theatre at ten minutes to twelve, and asked my permission to dry your clothes—you have been living with a man who keeps an oyster stall—I gave you permission to dry your clothes—at 12.10 your father came in, and I told him I had given you my permission to dry your clothing, and he said, "Tell him to come in"—you came in from the wash-house, and sat talking to your father—he asked my little daughter to fetch some supper beer, and I said she had her shoes and stockings off, and asked you to go—I gave you an old pair of slippers to go in, and you went to the door, and then called out, "Dad, you are just too soon to be too late; they are just closed"—your father fastened the door and told you to go to bed.
By the COURT. I went to the Police-court on the remand—I did not go when he was first charged, because I did not know with what he was charged till after he was remanded—he went to bed in the front room, which is not a bedroom; we keep it for a bit of a best room—he slept on a couch there—the last I saw of him was when he went into that room—I then went to bed myself; it was just after the public-houses closed, at 12.30—there was nothing to prevent his going out again, if he chose, but next morning I found his coat and boots, and socks, where I had left them, and his father sat smoking some time after the prisoner had gone to bed.
Cross-examined. It is not possible to get out of the house other than by the door—there is a lamp-post opposite our house, at the kerb, but I don't think my son could get out by climbing down that; I have never known anyone go down it—I have a clock—I noticed the time by the public-house closing; it is next door to us—I went to bed immediately—my husband is an umbrella manufacturer—he has been working in Fore Street for over thirty years, but trade has gone down of late years—we have had a shop for twenty-four years, and we have only recently had a shop in South Street—I cover the umbrellas, and my husband works at the frames.
Re-examined. If you had got out you could not have got back again, because we always lock the door and take the key upstairs—your father brought the key upstairs on this night.
JAMES HEATH . I am an umbrella maker, of 2, South Street, New North Road—on the last Wednesday in the month (I think it was the 31st) I came home about 12.10 or 12.15—it was a very wet night—my wife asked me whether my son could remain that night as it wan very wet—you were upstairs at the time—you had not been living with us for the last six months—I called you down, and said you could stay here for the night as you were wet, and I said "You might first run and fetch me half-a-pint of beer"—it is only about ten paces from my shop to the Princess of Wales at the corner—you could not have been gone a minute when you came back and said, "Dad, you are just in time to be too late, as the doors are just closed"—I said, "Then you are just in time to go to
bed"—I put up the bar of the door, and sat smoking my pipe till 1.15, and you never went out that night, I am convinced.
By the COURT. My wife did not say my son asked to be allowed to come in and dry his clothes—she said he was drying his clothes—he was not out of sight a minute when he went to the public-house—I did not hear my daughter asked to go and get the beer.
Cross-examined. I called the prisoner Heath downstairs; he had just gone upstairs to go to bed while his coat was drying—he had asked his mother whether he could stay—he was not hiding in the back kitchen till his mother had asked me, and then I told him to come out—he went outside to get the beer, but he was not gone more than a minute—no other member of the family was up that night—he put his coat on to go for the beer, and my wife lent him shoes, because his boots were so wet—it was on the night of the last Wednesday in the month when I came home at 12.10 or 12.15—I don't remember exactly what took place on the night before—I have had little altercations with my son—he had been home before for lodgings—he has no permanent employment, but he has been at work; and when I have a spurt he had a few hours to get his livelihood, but when he was short he got a night's lodging with us—my wife lent him her shoes.
HARRY HEATH . I am an umbrella maker, and live with my father at 2, South Street—on the last Wednesday in October my brother did three hours' work for me, and he said, "I should like to go to the theatre to-night"—I said, "Very well"—we went to the Britannia, and arrived home about 11.50, and sat there talking, and my father said, "You might go out and get me a drop of beer for my supper"—he had his boots off, ready to go to bed, and was in his shirt sleeves, and mother lent him her old slippers to go to the public-house next door—he went out and came back and said, "You are just too soon to be too late; the public-house is just closed, and if I had seen the potman I might have got it"—he had supper, and went up to bed with me—he slept in the same room with me; but on a couch, not on a bed—it was a front room furnished as a bedroom that he slept in.
John Davis, in his defence, stated that the two other prisoners were quite innocent, and that he had told the police who the guilty men were, and that he had been pushed upon the prosecutor, but never had his hand in his pocket.
William Davis and Heath asserted their innocence, and Heath added that William Davis had told him the names of the two men who had pushed his brother on to the prisoner.
ARTHUR BIRD (Re-examined). It had been raining during the day, but when I went on duty at 9.30 p.m., I had not to wear my cape—the Britannia Theatre would close about 10.30 or eleven; there was no rain after that.
GUILTY .—John Davis then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on January 6th, 1891, in the name of George Johnson, and William Davit to a conviction in November, 1889.
BIRD said that Heath was an expert pickpocket, and did no work, to his.
knowledge; that William Davis had been working for his father, a very respectable man who would have nothing to do with John Davis, at he could not trust him to go to other people's houses.
WILLIAM DAVIS— Six Months' Hard Labour. JOHN DAVIS and HEATH— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
The COURT commended the conduct of the policemen.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 19th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
ISABELLA HOBBS . I am the wife of Edward Hobbs, a confectioner, of 154, Hackney Road—on October 30th, about 7.45 p.m., the prisoner came in for two chocolate creams and tendered a florin—it was rather rough, and I called my husband, who tested it.
EDMOND HOBBS . I am the husband of the last witness—she called me into the shop, and I saw a florin there—I said to the prisoner, "This is a bad one"—he said "Do not say that"—I refused to give it to him—he created a little bother and gave me a penny, and said I will have a pennyworth of sweets for the youngster—a constable was passing; I called him in and we all went to the station—he said he was a working-man, and took it in Petticoat Lane—no charge was made.
SARAH GLADMAN . I am the wife of Daniel Gladman, who keeps the Ship in Hanbury Street—on November 2nd, about 12.45, I was alone in the bar, and the prisoner came in with another man and asked for two half-pints of ale—he tendered a florin—I took it and gave him 1s. 10d. change; a shilling, a sixpence, and four pence—I kept the florin in my hand—I fancied it was smooth, tried it with a piece of slate, and found it was bad—he saw me do that—I spoke to the potman and then found that the prisoner and the other man had gone and the beer was left on the counter untouched—the potman went out and brought back a constable and the prisoner, who asked me to serve him with another half-pint of ale—I refused and charged him.
JAKES CHEESE . I am potman at the Ship—on November 2nd, about one o'clock, I saw the prisoner in the bar—the landlady spoke to me—I ran out and two men ran away—the prisoner is one of them—I ran after them about half a mile; they separated, and I caught the prisoner and gave him into custody for uttering a bad florin—the constable searched him and found a shilling, a sixpence, and flvepence, all good—he said, "You won't charge me, will you?"
Cross-examined by the prisoner. There was only fivepence on you at the station.
shop—he said, "I did not know it was bad; another man gave it to me to get two half-pints of ale"—I found 1s. 6d. and 5d. on him—there was a hole in his pocket, and the 1s. 6d. may have gone through on the way to the station—he wanted the prosecutor not to charge him, and offered to give the 1s. 10d. change back—I searched him and only found 5d.
Prisoner's defence. I am innocent of this charge, but being in the company of the man who passed the florin, I am quite sensible of the seriousness of the case against me. I have been for a long time endeavouring to retrieve my lost character.
GUILTY .**—Six convictions were proved against him.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
6. WILFRID JOHN CARTER FROST (18) , to two indictments for stealing post letters, one containing a florin and the other a purse, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
7. ELLEN COX (48) , to stealing seventy-four yards of flannel, the property of James William Murray; also to stealing a leather bag containing cigars and cigar-cases, the property of the London and North-Western Railway Company, having been convicted at Wellingborough on June 1st in the name of Ellen Day.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
8. THOMAS GROUT** (64) , to being found by night armed with a crowbar, with intent to break into a certain shop, having been convicted at this Court on March 6th, 1889.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
11. JOHN FRITZ (22) , to forging and uttering a cheque for £22 10s., with intent to defraud; also to obtaining by false pretences from the Army and Navy Co-operative Stores, a portmanteau and other articles; also to obtaining £4 10s. from Wilhelmina Adderley by false pretences.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(14) CHRISTIAN WAKEFIELD EMMOTT (19) , to forging and uttering requests for the payment of 9s. and 10s., with intent to defraud; also to obtaining the said sums by false pretences.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
charge of selling beer without a license on a house-boat—on October 13th I was in Roman Rood, Bow, and saw the prisoners near the Hand and Flower public-house—I knew Moore, but did not know his name—as I passed, Moore said, "Here comes the dirty bastard who done the tea on old Tom's back"—I turned round, and Moore struck me under my left jaw—Bell said, "We will give him a six" and struck me behind my ear—I blew my whistle, and caught hold of Moore—somebody said, "Now for him, boys"—I was thrown violently to the ground, and saw Stringer kick me once—I struggled with Moore, and became unconscious—Moore also kicked me—I rallied a bit, and asked a doctor to give me some brandy—I was taken to the hospital, and bandaged up, and went home, and next morning I found I was passing blood, and sent for a doctor, and am under his care still.
Cross-examined. I am not a sworn constable—I had given evidence for the police in other cases besides the boat case, within two months—my occupation is that of a labouring man—I had casual labour at the docks prior to the assault—I have got a twenty-one years' character here from the Earl of Durham—it is upwards of two years since I was in regular employ—this is rather a dark neighbourhood, but the public-house is well lit up—there is a urinal in the street—the Hand and Flower has four doors—I did not hear one of the men say "There goes the copper's nark," nor did I turn to Moore and say, "Who is that talking about a copper's nark?"—I was not arguing with Moore some few minutes before I got struck—I did not strike Moore's hat off—he and I did not stand wrangling; a crowd may have got round us when I whistled, but I was half dazed—Moore went down on top of me, and I was kicked while he was on me—the last recollection I have is that I had got hold of his legs—Moore also kicked me after he got up, and at that time Stringer kicked me while I was on the ground—I went to the public-house where Bell was given in charge—he said, "That is right; I am the man who pulled the gentleman off"—I do not remember Bell pulling me off—he said, "I should not have been in this if it had not been for Moore"—he did not say, "The injuries to his ribs must have been caused by my throwing him upon the stones."
Re-examined. I saw Moore throw his hat on the ground—I have no doubt that Stringer kicked me.
BERTRAM HENDEBOURC . I am a pupil teacher of 123, Roman Road, Bow, opposite the Hand and Flower public-house—on Saturday, October 13th, between nine and ten p.m., I was standing at the door, and saw Ragan—the three prisoners were standing together by the Hand and Flower—I knew Moore and Bell before, and Stringer by sight—I went across the road, and they were having some words, and Moore and Regan went to the ground, and then I was called away—they bound him up while I got water for him.
Cross-examined. I heard someone say, "If you put on me you put on the wrong clique," and then Moore struck Ragan, who blew a whistle—there was a crowd round.
AMELIA HUTCHINGS . I am the wife of John Hutchings, a gunmaker—on October 13th I was in the Hand and Flower, and saw the three prisoners—Moore left first, the other two left together about two minutes afterwards—I heard screams, went into the street, and saw Bell on the
prosecutor, who was on his back on the ground, and Moore standing over him—the prosecutor had hold of Moore's feet—there was a considerable number of people there—I then went into the public-house and saw Bell and Stringer there; they both said that they had nothing to do with them.
ELIZABETH BAKER . My husband is a labourer—on Saturday, October 13th, I was outside the Hand and Flower waiting for an omnibus, and saw a scuffle in the street and a man lying on the ground—they said, "Down him"—three men who had the scuffle with him rushed past me—I tried to pull the other man off; it was Moore—the crowd was rather noisy.
WILLIAM SCASHARD . I am a builder's assistant—on October 13th I was outside the Hand and Flower, heard a whistle, and saw two men struggling on the ground; I didn't know who they were—I saw the man on the ground kicked by a man who was standing up.
Cross-examined. I noticed other people who have not come here, who were there when the whistle was blown.
SARAH SHADWICK . I am a widow—on October 13th I was with my daughter at the Hand and Flower, and saw a crowd there—I saw all the prisoners there, and Moore was lying on the prosecutor—I called out, "Get off, you brute, you will kill him".
SARAH ANN SHADWICK . I was with my mother outside the Hand and Flower, and saw the prisoners standing outside the house—there was a crowd, and I saw three men on top of Mr. Ragan—the prisoners were all there, and I saw them strike him—I knew Bell before.
Cross-examined. I was with my mother inside the public-house at first—Stringer is the only one who was inside, and he must have run out, because he is one of the men who was on the prosecutor—he was in the same compartment as I was, but he went out first.
JAMES HENRY PERRY . I am a candle maker—on Saturday evening, October 13th, I was outside the Hand and Flower with Mrs. Baker—I heard a rush of men and a whistle—I saw a crowd, went there, and saw Ragan on the ground and a man on top of him—I helped to pull him off—I attended to the man and sent for the ambulance.
HERBERT OBORNE (Policeman). I heard a whistle, and found Ragan on the ground with his tongue protruding—I afterwards met Bell, and told him the charge—he said, "I don't deny I was there; I pulled him away."
THOMAS FLAWN (23 KR). On 15th October I saw Moore outside the Hand and Flower, and I told him I had a warrant against him for assaulting Ragan—he said, "Ragan struck me first; the injuries to his ribs must have been caused by my throwing him against the stones"—on the same evening Bell was brought in by two officers—I read the warrant to him—he said, "That is right; I was the man who pulled the gentleman off; I should not have been in this if it had not been for Moore"—I took Stringer in bed, and told him the charge—he said he had a drink in the public-house at the time.
Cross-examined. Bell was in the employ of Bryant and May, but has
been out of work nine months—Moore has been employed occasionally by the parish authorities—Stringer said, "If you can get my brother, I should like him to attend the Sessions"—he did not say he was at work at Bromley—he was at work at the City of London Brewery—I cannot find out that Moore has ever been convicted, or Bell—in addition to this charge, the prisoners were also committed for robbery with violence.
WALTER BARBER . I am a licentiate of the College of Physicians of Dublin, and practise in Roman Road—on October 13th I was called to a man lying in the road outside the Hand and Flower—Perry and a constable were with him—I examined him, but it was quite dark; he was suffering great pain in his side—he was sensible; I directed that he should be sent to the hospital—I saw him next day, and found him suffering from shock and great pain in his side and back; his passing blood indicated damaged kidneys—that is well now, but he is still under my care—his injuries are not permanent.
HAROLD EVERETT PACE . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—I was there when Ragan was brought in; he was in a dazed condition, suffering from contusions on his right side and leg and back—I did not keep him in the hospital and did not see him afterwards.
MOORE and BELL GUILTY of assault and larcency —MOORE, Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
BELL, GUILTY— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
STRINGER, NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 20th, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
16. WILLIAM SHIPPERY COOPER (50) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling and stealing the sum of 9s. 9d., and an order for £1 5s. 6d. of F. B. Ehrman, his masters; also to falsifying certain accounts of the firm, and to a previous conviction of felony on 7th January, 1889.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. C F. GILL Defended.
GEORGE SMITHERS . I am a fish salesman, of 1, Duke Street, London Bridge—I am in the habit of buying fish in the early morning at the Fish Market—in October last I had a man named Newport in my employ—it was his duty to bring the fish direct from the market to my place; he had no authority to stop at the Monument Station—I buy plaice in large quantities in trunks, not by weight; I do not keep so accurate an account of such fish as I do of turbot and soles—I have for some time complained of missing fish, and after making inquiries, on 8th October I employed Detective Rouse to watch Newport's van—he gave me information, in consequence of which I gave Newport into custody, and charged him with stealing a haddock and some plaice—he was taken before the Magistrate and sentenced to twenty-one days' hard labour—after sentence my solicitor saw him in prison under an order of the Home Secretary, and in consequence of the statement he then made the prisoner was taken into
custody—I did not know him at all; he was no customer of mine—the ten plaice and the haddock were not brought to my place on 8th October—the retail price of them was 15s.—they were brought to my shop and weighed; the plaice weighed 30 lb. and the haddock 2 or 3 lb.
Cross-examined. I have been many years in the trade—I first saw these fish at Seething Lane Station—I then valued them at seven shillings—they were lying on the ground, but I could not judge the weight then—I did not see the prisoner till he was at the Mansion House—I did not hear him say he had bought the fish of Newport—I have heard that he has been twenty-eight years in his employment, and that his employers are defending him—plaice vary much in price—I never knew them less than 3s. 6d. or 4s. a stone—there are various qualities—on the afternoon the prisoner was given into custody I went to Monument Station, where he was employed—I heard Newport say at the Mansion House that he had sold fish to other clerks there—the trunks and boxes in which the fish come would have to be taken back to the market, for which they pay one penny each—I never heard of their having fish given to them.
Re-examined. These plaice had come from a trunk—I had given 25s. a trunk—there are 70 lb. of plaice in a trunk—the haddock was taken from another trunk—the retail price of the haddock would be eighteen-pence.
WILLIAM NEWPORT . I was a carman in the service of Mr. Smithers—on 8th October I was sentenced, at the Mansion House, to twenty-one days for stealing ten plaice and a haddock—I had been four years and six months in Mr. Smithers' service—it was my duty to fetch fish at six in the morning in a van and take it to Duke Street—I have known the prisoner about twelve months at the Monument Railway Station, he was a clerk in the booking-office there—I first knew him by going backwards and forwards by train, taking fish from the shop to the West-end, in a basket on my arm; I knew him by taking my ticket at the window—we used to speak to one another; he asked me to get some fish for him—I said I could get some the first thing in the morning, coming from market—I used to get some three or four times a week and sell it to him—I took it into the booking-office—the door used to be open and I walked in; the door was marked "Private"—I took the fish off the van which the governor used to buy, out of the trunk—I carried it into the office in a box that I used to take to market, one of the empties that I had to take back—it was generally plaice that I took; I could not say about the weight, I never weighed it; it would be about 20 lb. or 25 lb.—I took it on an average three or four times a week—it was about the usual amount that I took on the day I was arrested—he paid me what I used to ask for; half-a crown I asked on 8th October; it was generally three shillings, half-a-crown, or two shillings—I used to tell him when I could get nothing—I used to go next morning and say I could not get him any the day before, that the governor did not buy that morning, at least he did buy, but I could not touch it because it was weighed—I used to leave the van outside when I took the fish in—I generally got there about five minutes past seven—I told him I had to get the fish out of the boxes that the governor bought—he was generally behind the place where he issued the tickets, at the back—I put the fish on the ground, in the box—I took a fish-box every time—4s. was the largest
amount he ever paid me at one time; I had got a few extra that day; about twelve or fourteen plaice—on 8th October I took ten plaice and one haddock—I took them in the same way, early in the morning—nothing was said between me and the prisoner—I asked for the money; that was all—he gave me 2s. 6d.; I asked him for it—he looked at the fish before giving it to me—he did not tell me what he did with all this fish—he never gave me anything besides the money; we had a drink once or twice in the Monument public-house—that was generally in the afternoon—I had delivered fish at the booking-office a little while before I delivered it to the prisoner, to another young chap there—he went away, laid up; he was a clerk there.
Cross-examined. I first did that over twelve months ago—I took the fish openly into the place; there was no disguise about it—the Monument Station is quite close to Billingsgate Market—the booking-office faces King William Street—it is an extremely busy place—the station is a thorough-fare; you can walk right through; a lot of people pass through—besides the door you go in at there is another door on Fish Street Hill—when I sold fish to the other clerk I told him I had stolen it; I thought it best to tell him—I don't remember what I first said—I did not want to make any mystery about being a thief; it was not a thing I was ashamed of—I can't remember whether there were other people in the office when I sold fish to the first clerk—if there had been that would not have prevented me from telling that I had stolen the fish; I said it openly—I did not sell fish very long to the first clerk, about two or three months, under exactly the same circumstances—I think Jarvis was the name of the first clerk I sold to—I can't remember whether I told him that I had to take the empty boxes back to the market, it is so long ago—I had to do so—I did not tell Jarvis that I got fish for doing so—I never said anything to Jarvis about taking back empty boxes, or that I got some fish as perquisites, nothing of the sort—the boy would take them back, and a shilling would be on the ticket, and sometimes we only got a penny each—there were very few small baskets, only about eight or nine a day—I never said anything to Jarvis about perquisites; I never used the word perks—Jarvis was the only other clerk besides the prisoner that I sold to—I sold to a clerk named Langford on one occasion, that was all—I did not know his name—I sold to Jarvis between ten and twelve times—I did not tell Langford I was a thief—he had seen me come into the office, not when Jarvis was there—Jarvis was on one week early, and the other man on the next week early—Langford would know I was a thief—he asked me if I could let him have two or three plaice; that was when I went in with it one morning—there was a porter on the station that I sold to; I have seen nothing of him for a long time—I sold to him once or twice; he was a ticket collector downstairs—I never told him that I had stolen the fish; I think he knew it—I never told any of these persons that I got perquisites; I told one or two; I did not tell the lot, I mean the other two I have spoken of—it never occurred to me to give any explanation of why I was in possession of the fish—I only told Jarvis and the prisoner, not Langford or the ticket collector—I only sold to the ticket collector about once; that was after I sold to Jarvis—Jarvis was the first, and the prisoner next; there was nobody else—the others were
in between—when I first sold to the prisoner I told him they were stolen fish—I don't remember whether anyone was present then—I told him where I was employed; I don't know that he asked me—I said before the Magistrate that he asked me where I worked, and that I told him "over the bridge"—that is true—when I first sold him fish there were other clerks in the office—there was always a clerk at the ticket place—I used to speak, not out loud, but in my ordinary voice—after my conviction a solicitor came to see me in the prison—I told him that I had told the prisoner I had stolen the fish—I have left fish on other occasions, and asked for money from other clerks, whoever was there, when the prisoner was not there—they have seen me come in when the prisoner was there—I never sent in fish by a market porter, or by anyone; I always took it in myself—nobody but the solicitor saw me after my conviction—I first sold fish to the prisoner between eight and twelve months ago.
Re-examined. I can't recollect whether I sold him fish the first time he spoke to me—Jarvis and the prisoner were the two clerks that used to be there in the morning issuing tickets—when I went there one or the other would be in in the morning, issuing tickets; no others as far as I knew—I was dressed as I am now, in a blue apron and overcoat—the shilling on the empty boxes did not belong to me—to the governor I used to hand that over the next morning; I got no advantage from that—I never used to take them back, the boy did, and he got the pennies—we generally shared that between us—I daresay I should know the ticket collector to whom I sold if I was to see him, I do not know his name, I have served the whole of my sentence—I am now employed at Mr. Smithers' stables—I was out of prison a week before I went there.
ARTHUR COOMBER . I am an errand boy in Mr. Smithers' employment—I used to go with Newport to the fish market with a van to get fish in the morning—about two or three times I have seen him take fish from the trunk; he generally put it in a box and took it to the Monument Station before we returned to Duke Street—Newport stopped at Monument Station every morning to take in fish in a box—I only saw him go through the door from the street into the station; I don't know what part of the station he went to—he left it there and came back to the van without it—it was generally plaice I saw him take out—I was in the van on 8th October, when he was arrested—on that morning he stopped close by the station, but a little further on—he generally stopped outside.
Cross-examined. Once Newport went into the lobby of the station, I did not see him—there is a thoroughfare through there—I did not know that he was robbing his master—he never told me that—I have seen him put seven or eight plaice in a small box, one of the returned empties—we took empties back every morning—the salesmen generally asked me to fetch them back—some had a shilling left on them, and others I got a penny each for—I took back three or four a day, as many as we had; the most I took was five or six a day, never eight or nine—I have seen New-port once since he came out of prison, at the stables—I saw he was working there.
Re-examined. I did not speak to him till after he had given evidence at the Mansion House—when he gave evidence at the Mansion House he was still undergoing his sentence—the box in which he put the fish was
one of the returned empties, which ought to have been left at the market—we generally used to take little boxes to fetch back things in—when I saw him take fish out of the trunk and put it into an empty box I thought he meant it for a customer of Mr. Smithers'—when I asked him who the customer was he would not answer me, and then I did not take any more notice.
JOHN ROUSE . I was formerly in the City Police—I am now a private detective—from instructions I received from Mr. Smither I watched the van Newport was driving on 8th October—I saw him take fish out of the trunks and put them into a small box in his van—I followed him to the private door of the booking-office; he took the fish in and came out without it—I met him at the door—I went in—the fish was at the further end of the booking-office near the prisoner, who was sitting writing at a table—I said, "Do you know anything of this?"—he said, "Yes, it is mine; I bought it"—I said, "Of whom? The man who has gone out?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You know it is stolen?"—he said, "No; I don't know"—I said, "Will you fetch me a policeman?"—he went to the booking-office door and returned and said, "I cannot see one"—I said, "I shall take charge of the fish, and you will hear further of me"—I took it on to Mr. Smithers' shop, and I there arrested Newport.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was arrested on the 18th, ten days afterwards—the Monument Station is quite close to Billingsgate Market, but not adjoining it—past the booking-office is a public thoroughfare from Fish Street Hill to King William Street—a great many people pass through there in the morning—the prisoner went in by the only door into the booking office; it was the door into the office from which the tickets are issued; it is marked "Private"—another clerk came from where the tickets are issued, from behind a partition, and said, "It is rough"—I have been out of the police force for about three years—I do a little private detective work now, if I am engaged; I was sent for in this case—I was in the police force about fifteen and a half years, and am a pensioner for life.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am thoroughly Ignorant of the matter as to the fish being stolen; I do not deny buying it."
Witnesses for the Defence.
ALBERT GARSIDE . I am assistant manager of the Metropolitan Railway Company—the prisoner has been in our employment for twenty-three years, twenty-one years with the Metropolitan and for the last two years at our joint station with the District Railway—he has occupied a responsible position during the time of his employment by the company—he has been clerk in charge of the Monument Station—he has always borne the highest character in the estimation of all those with whom he has come into contact.
Cross-examined. He has been over four years at Monument Station—he has been in prison awaiting his trial; bail was fixed for him.
Re-examined. He is represented here to-day at the instance of the company, and by the company's solicitor, with our approval.
JAMES WILLAM WHITTON . I am accountant to the Metropolitan District Railway—I have known the prisoner since June, 1890, when he became a joint servant of the Metropolitan and of the District Railways—during the whole of that time it has been his duty to render me daily and monthly accounts of the business done at the station—his accounts have been accurately and carefully kept, and the money, amounting to several hundred pounds a week, has been accurately remitted—so far as I am able to judge, his character among those who knew him was that of an honest, upright man.
Cross-examined. I know of no rule about clerks doing their marketing in the booking-office one way or the other—I should not approve of it—if they are doing their own business, they are neglecting their employer's to some extent—I did not know the prisoner was doing it.
THOMAS LANGFORD . I am a booking clerk to the Metropolitan District Railway Company—I have been a booking clerk at the Monument Station for just over two years—I saw Newport come into the office there, and the small boxes of fish come in—I have not bought fish from Newport—I asked him where he got the fish from; he said it was his perks—that was the word he used—when he has left fish there, I have paid him, by the prisoner's instructions—I have bought from the prisoner some of the fish that has been brought there—I remember, about seven or eight months ago, a market porter leaving the box there—Newport never told me in whose employment he was, or that he had stolen the fish—he simply told me they were perks—there is a public thoroughfare right through the Monument Station—Newport did not come at the busiest time, but at seven to 7.15, after the workmen's trains, when we were getting slack—the station is about two minutes' walk from Billingsgate Market.
Cross-examined. I understood perks to mean perquisites; his gratuities from men he worked for in the market—I understood he was a carman; he told me he was; he did not say in whose service; I never asked him—I was there on 8th October when he brought in the fish—I have since heard there were 30 lb. of plaice; I did not know the quantity on that morning—I don't understand the value of fish—if a man told me he had 30 lb. of plaice as a perquisite, I should believe him; I don't see why I should not—if he had that quantity of fish three or four times a week, I should still believe him if I knew the man well—I should not believe him if he told me 100 lb. of fish a day were perquisites; I should think he was overstepping the line—I should think 20 or 30 lb. of fish was a fair amount for perquisites; I do not say every day, but two or three times a week—this fish came two or sometimes three times a week, very seldom three times a week—he brought the fish for the prisoner, whom I saw pay for it—I have heard Newport ask him for the money—on 8th October he paid 2s. 6d.—I don't know how that amount was arrived at—he did not weigh the fish or look at it—the prisoner asked the price, and paid whatever was asked—he never said there was too much, more than he could do with—he let me have one or two when I asked him—I had one or two perhaps once a fortnight—I cannot say what the prisoner did with the rest—I do not suggest that he and his family eat all the rest—I generally went off duty at two, but when I have been late I have seen the prisoner take the fish away with him—
he did not take it in the box—he sometimes sent me for a small fish-bag to take it away in—a small fish-bag would not hold 30 lb.; I think that was an unusual quantity—four shillings was the most money I have known him pay—he paid four shillings on this occasion—I first went to Monument Station two years ago—I was there the first time that Newport ever left fish; as near as I remember, that was about nine months ago—he then left the fish with the prisoner—Jarvis, my colleague, is here—the first time the prisoner gave me fish I asked him what I should pay him, and I used to pay him sixpence or eightpence for two small plaice—I asked him to let me have them—the box for which he paid half-a-crown on October 8th was about the same-sized box for which he had paid half-a-crown before, but I cannot say if there was the same quantity of fish in it—the prisoner paid anything he was asked without knowing how much was in the box—the prisoner was the only one at the station to whom Newport sold fish—I don't know that the prisoner sold to anyone but myself—at seven to 7.15 a.m., when Newport came, it was just after the workmen's trains, when we are slack and have breakfast—we do not go away to breakfast, we have it at the booking-office window.
Re-examined. I have been eleven years in the service of the Company.
DANIEL RICHARD JARVIS . I am a booking clerk in the employment of the Metropolitan Railway Company, employed at the Monument Station—nine or ten months ago Newport came to the station with fish—he said it was his perks for returning empties to the market in the morning—from that time to the time of his arrest I saw him come from time to time to the booking-office, which is very near the fish market—the fish was brought there quite openly, and with no secrecy whatever—Newport fixed the price—I did not see a fish porter bring fish once.
Cross-examined. I have bought fish of Newport about a dozen times, chiefly plaice, sometimes haddock—he did not bring much, except plaice—I did not ask him to always bring plaice—he never said he could not bring anything else—I have seen him come there two and three times a week; always with plaice—he brought it to the prisoner—I cannot say exactly how much it came to—there were sometimes six, or five or eight fish; I could not say the weight—I paid Newport 2s., or 2s. 6d. for six or eight plaice—the most I ever bought was ten plaice, for which I gave him half-a-crown or 3s.—the price you would pay at a fishmonger's shop for plaice would depend upon the market; I think I should have paid about the same there as I paid to Newport—I was not in the booking-office on 8th October when Newport brought in the ten plaice—nine or ten months ago Newport said they were perks—he used to be a regular passenger through the station, and he got on speaking terms at the window; we used to pass the time of day and so on, and he asked me whether I would like a little bit of fish for my breakfast, and I said I should—I thought he was connected with the market; he had on a blue apron and carried a basket—I thought at first he was a fishmonger with a shop—a month or two afterwards I found that he worked at a shop—it never transpired whose shop it was—I have heard the name of Smithers—I heard he worked at a shop near London Bridge—someone at the station told me that, I think—I think it was the prisoner; I cannot say for certain—when he asked if I should like a little fish for breakfast I said, "Yes," and he said he would bring me some—he did not ask what kind I liked—I
believe he brought me three plaice the first time—I took them home—I did not weigh them—I believe he asked me 1s., which I paid him—I always paid anything he asked me, without regard to how much they weighed—I did not ask the weight—I never asked him for any other kind of fish; I left it to him to bring what he liked—he brought me haddock, whiting, and two or three mackerel—I thought they were all perks—I have heard it is the system of men going to the market in the morning to receive these things for returning the empties; I do not say 30 lb.—I should not believe a man if he said he had 30 lb. of plaice for perks in one morning—I should not think he stole them; I should not ask him—I should not buy those, because they would be too many for me—I know the prisoner has a large family—I cannot say how many plaice they could eat.
Re-examined. I have been twenty-four years in the company's employment—I have told the truth to-day—I thought that I should get fish a little bit cheaper from Newport if they were perquisites, than I should from a fishmonger.
JOHN DICKSON . I am a fishmonger at Parsons Green—I have been in business for myself four years—I was formerly in Billingsgate market for fourteen years—there is nothing extraordinary in the persons there giving fish to persons who return empties—you can give them a bit of fish for the work they do in bringing back boxes, and assisting in loading vans, and helping you at the railway station—plaice varies in price according to the supply—I have bought it at threepence a stone when there has been a great glut in the market, and I have bought it at 6d., 1s., 1s. 6d. and upwards.
Cross-examined. That was not when it was stale—I was not a fish salesman at Billingsgate—I know nothing of my own experience as a salesman in the market, only as a purchaser—I have always been a fishmonger—I buy fish at Billingsgate—the bit of fish I gave a man for carrying a box of fish to my van would depend on the price the fish cost me—I should not give 30 lb. of plaice in one morning as a present—I have given a man perhaps two or three plaice, that would be 3 lb.—I never heard of a man giving 30 lb. of plaice as a perquisite.
At the conclusion of MR. GILL'S speech for the defence the JURY said that they found the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HILL Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON Defended Engleman, and MR. TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Defended Mischaud.
JAMES MOORE (Detective Sergeant G). I had a communication from Mrs. Secondi, and acting on that I went with her and Sergeant Harley to 12, Little Marylebone Street, where I found Mischaud in the second floor back room—I told her I was a police officer, and that I should take her into custody for stealing jewellery belonging to her mother—she went to a trunk and brought out this box, containing two gold and one silver necklets and two pairs of gold earrings, and said, "Leon told me to bring away all the jewellery I could belonging to my mother"—I said, "Who is Leon?"—she said, "The man I am living with"—I took her into
custody—I called at the house again at 8.30, and was there when Engleman came in—I told him the charge—he made no reply to the charge of stealing the jewellery.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. He spoke to me about the other charge—he had no difficulty in expressing himself; he spoke English fluently.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. I was at the Police-station when Mrs. Secondi came on the 19th—I did not hear what she said—I saw her there on the 24th—I could not say if there were any initials on the trunk from which Mischaud took the jewellery—she did not say it was her trunk—I made this note afterwards, not at the time—she spoke broken English fairly well, with a foreign accent—she was greatly excited.
By the COURT. The prisoner made a lengthy statement as to his relations with Mischaud—I was thoroughly able to understand what he said.
HORTENSE SECONDI (Interpreted). I am the wife of Frederick Secondi, and live at Duke Street Chambers—I am Mischaud's mother—on Friday, 19th October, I missed several articles—these necklets I kept in a box in my bedroom—I did not miss my daughter at the time I missed the jewellery—I went with the policemen to Little Marylebone Street on the 24th, and saw my daughter—I also saw these jewels and necklaces, which, belong to me—Mischaud said she did not know at all that they were in the box, because I had put them there a few days before—my object was not to charge Mischaud, but to get her back.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I had put these things in the box only a few days before.
Cross-examined by MR. HUMPHREYS. She is my only daughter—she has lived with me all her life, except when she was at a convent—she has always been a good girl, and loved me very much—I was very much up set when I found she had gone away—I went to the Police-station to see if the police could find her, and they said they could not undertake it unless I brought a charge against her, and that was the reason I mentioned the jewellery; I was compelled to do so in order to get the police to get my daughter back—I don't believe my daughter intended to steal the jewellery; I never refused her anything she asked for.
Engleman, in hit statement before the Magistrate, said that that he and Mischaud had agreed to live together; that he did not know she had the jewellery till Sunday, when she told him that site had found jewellery belonging to her mother in the box which site had brought away, and that he was not guilty of abduction, but that he and Mischaud lived together, as she was in the family way, and was afraid her parents would not forgive her.
Mischaud said that what Engleman stated was right.
The RECORDER considered there was no evidence against Engleman.
NOT GUILTY .
19. LEON ENGLEMAN was again indicted for unlawfully taking Louise Mischaud, a girl under eighteen, out of the possession and against the will of Hortense Secondi, her mother, with intent to carnally know her.
MR. HILL Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended.
sixteen and a half years old—she did not leave my house with my consent—I found her at Little Marylebone Street—Engleman was not there.
JAMES MOORE (Detective Sergeant G). I went to Little Marylebone Street and saw Mischaud and Engleman there—when I told him the charge he said, "She is nearly seventeen and gave her consent"—on the way to the station he said, "I have known Louise for nearly nine months; she always consented and never gave me any trouble. She is four months in the family way, and I thought it better we should live together, as she could not remain at home in that condition."
LOUISE MISCHAUD (Interpreted). I have known Engleman for nine months—he has not visited me at my mother's house—I first met him in the street—I became very intimate with him—he asked me to accompany him to Little Marylebone Street, and I went with him—I always told him my age was sixteen and a half.
Cross-examined. I did not tell one of his friends that I was eighteen—he told me not to speak the truth to Mrs. Neale, our landlady; and I told her I was eighteen because she would have thought it very extraordinary for a girl of sixteen to have a man there—I was never desirous of living with the prisoner; he was the person who always asked me to do so—I did not say anything to my mother about going away; I was afraid to do so—I was afraid to remain at home for fear my mother should see my condition.
Re-examined. I did not tell the landlady I was in the family way.
NOT GUILTY .
20. EDWARD LYNCH (33), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously entering the dwelling-house of Bernard Heineman, and stealing £5, and to a previous conviction at this Court in March, 1893.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 20th 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
22. ALBERT WEBB (25) , to unlawfully obtaining £9 by false pretences; also to three indictments for forging and uttering undertakings for the payment of £5, £5, and £9.— Eight Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
23. GEORGE MAITLAND (65), and CHARLES WEST (40) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of John Baddoch with intent to steal, having been convicted at Clerkenwell on December 3rd, 1888. Maitland had already undergone eighteen years' and West thirty-three years' penal servitude.— Five Years each in Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
25. CHARLES PATTEN (20), and THOMAS BAKER (29) , to stealing 23 lb. of tea of William James Beach, the master of Patten; and the said THOMAS BAKER and EDWIN BLATCHFORD (22) , to stealing 26 lb. of tea of Henry Luke Mennell and another, the masters of Blatchford; and the said THOMAS BAKER and ERNEST IVES (18) , to stealing 5 lb. of tea of James Thompson, the master of Ives, and Ives to stealing 25 lb. of tea of his said master, and Baker to receiving the same. IVES and PATTEN— Discharged on recognizances. BAKER— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. BLATCHFORD— Three Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
26. JOHN ARTHUR WEST (30) , to stealing a platinum crucible, the property of Romain Cornot, and a microscope and other articles from other persons.— Eight Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
27. ALBERT GOETZ (44) , to forging and uttering an order for £90, with intent to defraud. His defalcations amounted to £4,458.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NOT GUILTY .
Sentence on the former indictment.—Twenty-nine Days' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 21st, 1894.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. PASSMORE, for the prosecution, offered no evidence, the GRAND JURY having thrown out the bill.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. TREVOR LLOYD Prosecuted, and MR. ERNEST BEARD Defended.
ANNIE HISCOCK . I am single—I live at 2; Holies Street, Clare Market—I am employed as cook at the dining-rooms, 24, Whitefriars Street—the prisoner was also employed there as a kitchen porter—he left on 27th October, we had a few words in the kitchen on that day—I asked him to get some coals for the kitchen fire, and we had a few words over it—he said he would not get it for me, but he did get it afterwards—that was not the first time we had had words; we had words nearly every day, but we always made it up again; we never bore malice against one another—on this last occasion, before he went away, he asked me to have half a pint of stout—he was then up in the shop, I was in the bar—I said, "I don't mind, George"—he sent it down the lift to me—I was then downstairs in the kitchen—I took some of it, and it made me sick, and I threw it on the floor—I had had stout before, and it had never made me sick—I did not see the prisoner again till the 5th November; I was going to my work, about half-past seven, that morning, and when I came by Chancery Lane the prisoner rushed out from the Middle Temple doorway, and drew a knife across my throat—I don't know whether it was a knife or a razor, but I saw the steel—I had a fur boa round my neck, and I think that saved my life—the knife did not touch my throat, but I felt the steel on my throat—I screamed for assistance, and a policeman stopped him—he had caught hold of my left arm, by the elbow—he was behind me; the knife, or razor, was in his right hand—the policeman asked what was the matter, and he said he would go quietly with him—when the constable cautioned him he said he wished he had done it—before he said that I had not made any charge
against him to the constable; I had not said anything—I went to Bow Street, and signed the book—a doctor afterwards saw me—there was a bruise on my arm, where the prisoner took hold of me; it was like a finger-mark—only one bruise; it was quite black—the doctor found nothing the matter with my throat.
Cross-examined. We were on good terms on the 27th October, when he offered me the drink—when he rushed at me and caught hold of my arm on 5th November it startled me; I am rather nervous—it upset me—I screamed out, and he ran away directly—I followed him, and the policeman stopped him—he appeared rather excited—he looked back on me and seemed frightened—what he said was he wished he had done it, not that he wished he hadn't done it—he drew his hand right across my throat.
By the COURT. There was no trace of blood or any mark—I did not see the handle of the thing he had in his hand; it was either a knife or a razor—the boa was not cut at all.
ALEXANDER ROWLAND (431 E). I was on duty by the Royal Courts of Justice on the morning of 5th November—my attention was attracted by hearing a woman scream in Fleet Street, and I saw the prisoner running towards the Strand—I stopped him, and asked what was the matter—he said, "All right, governor"—the last witness came up and said, "That man tried to murder me"—I took him into custody and cautioned him—on the way to the station, he said, "All right, governor; I will go quietly. I wish I had done it"—at the station I searched him, but found no knife, only a piece of brown paper folded up and a small piece of Indian ink and knick-knacks, pieces of dirt, and a button—I afterwards looked on the pavement for a knife; I found nothing—I inquired if anyone had picked up anything; a man said he had found something like a table-knife—that man is not here—he accompanied me to the station—a knife was found and lost again; it was picked up and put under an orderly bin, in which they put dust and rubbish from the street—I did not see it; I only say that a man said it was found.
Cross-examined. When I stopped the prisoner he seemed pale and excited—he did not speak indistinctly—lam quite sure he did not say, "I wish I hadn't done it"—I found no cut on the girl's boa, or any mark on her throat.
CHARLES BROWN (City Detective Sergeant). I was at the Policestation when the prisoner was charged with attempting to cut the throat of Annie Hiscock—I was not there when he was first brought in—I was present when the charge was read over to him—he said, "I don't know what I did with the knife"—that was all that was said—Rowland and the prosecutrix were there.
Cross-examined. Two or three people who came in said that they had seen the knife—it was when the charge was written down that he said, "I don't know what I did with the knife."
By the COURT. I said, "Who found the knife?" and a man said he did—that man was at the Police-court, but was not examined—I can't remember his name—I did not write it down—the Lord Mayor did not think it necessary to take his evidence—the man said he had found a knife, and had given it to another man, who put it in an orderly bin—we could not prove it was the same knife.
WILLIAM McCULLUM (M.B., Dublin). I am assistant to Dr. Green, of 7, Bouverie Street—on 5th November, between ten and eleven, I examined the girl Hiscock—I found no injury whatever on her neck—she was in a nervous condition, somewhat hysterical—she complained of pain in the left arm—I examined it, and found a small black spot of about half an inch, between the shoulder and elbow—I could not say whether it was recent or not; it might have been produced the day before or the day before that—I could not say it had been done that day—it was such a bruise as might have been caused by taking hold of her arm roughly—if it had been caused that morning I should have expected to find other marks.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment for occasioning actual bodily harm to the same person, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SHERWOOD Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended, at the request of the COURT.
OTTAVIO SABINI (Interpreted). I am an ice-cream vendor, of 3, Bigg's Road, Clerkenwell—on Sunday night, 4th November, about half-past seven, I was on Eyre Street Hill—I saw the prisoner there—I knew him by sight—as I came out of a restaurant, No. 20, Domenico Rubini told me something, in consequence of which I said to the prisoner, "What do you want of me? I understand you want me"—he spat in my face, and struck me with his fist on the right cheek—I retaliated by giving three or four punches at him at the back of his head—then I saw him put his hand in front of his trousers, and draw out a long knife with a white handle—I ran about twenty yards and fell down, and while I was on the ground he was going to strike me with this knife in the stomach, but he struck me on the shoulder; then came a lot of friends and protected me, and a policeman came and arrested him, with the knife in his hand—I had an overcoat on my left arm, and he struck me also with the knife through my overcoat—I fell down, and defended myself with my feet while he was striking me—I was with my face towards heaven—I felt the blow in my shoulder, and I felt the blood running on my body—I saw him strike, and he said, "I will murder you," and he repeated the same thing before the Magistrate, saying. "I am very sorry I did not kill you"—all the people came and took hold of him to protect me, and took away the knife from his hand—he struggled, and would not relinquish it—Domenico Barzoni was one of those that came up—this (produced) is the knife, and that was the way he held it (Describing)—this is the sheath—I saw it when he drew it out—it had not the sheath on it when he drew it out.
Cross-examined. Barzoni and I do not come from the same part of Italy—I do not belong to an Italian club—I was at the club on the Saturday, and met the prisoner there—I had no row there—there had been some words about a girl—the prisoner wanted 2s. from me to go with this girl, and I wanted 3s. if I gave him the 2s., to be repaid in a day or two—he wanted to give me only twopence—there was no struggle between us in the club—I did not kick him on the leg, and give him a bad leg.
Re-examined. I had seen him about Eyre Street Hill before this—the only time I spoke to him was at the club on the Saturday, when the words passed about the girl—I asked him what he wanted with me, because a comrade had told me that he was waiting for me, and wanted to kill me.
DOMENICO BARZONI . I live at 20, Eyre Street Hill, and keep a restaurant—on Sunday night, 4th November, about half-past seven or eight, I was standing outside the house with three mates of mine talking—the prosecutor came out of the restaurant and was talking to us—the prisoner was on the opposite side of the road—Sabini went to him, and asked whether he was looking for him—he said, "Yes," and spat in his face, and punched him with his left hand in the eye or the side of the eye—Sabini was carrying two coats on his left arm—he caught hold of the prisoner with his left hand, and punched him with his right three or four times on his face, not on the back of the head—he shouted out in Italian, "He is going to murder me!" and ran away between ten and fifteen yards and then fell—the prisoner was running after him, and fell on top of him—I did not see the prisoner strike him with the knife—someone came up, and lifted the prisoner off Sabini—Sabini got up and ran away a second time, and came back and fell again in the same place—the prisoner followed him again, and fell on him again—I rushed to see how they were getting on, and saw the prisoner with a knife in his hand—I caught hold of him behind, and a constable came and took the knife from him—I went with them to the station—when the prisoner was charged, he said he meant to kill him; he meant to rip him up, and said, "You are not dead yet."
JOHN ALEXANDER MILLER . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police, of Percy Street, Clerkenwell—on Sunday, 4th November, about half-pas eight, I went to King's Cross Road Police-station, and there saw Sabini—I examined him, and dressed his wound; it was an incised wound one inch in length, on the right side of the chest, near the arm, and half an inch deep—it was bleeding freely—it was a blow from above downwards, and a little inwards—it must have been done with some sharp instrument—corresponding with the wound there was a cut through the coat, waist-coat and shirt—it must have been done with considerable force—this knife or my sharp instrument might have produced it—the knife is sharp.
JOSEPH BLIGH (205 G). I was called to Eyre Street Hill at 8.20—I found a large crowd of Italians, and the prisoner and prosecutor struggling in the midst of them—the prosecutor shouted out in English, "I am stabbed"—I took the prisoner into custody, and took the knife from him.
GUILTY of unlawful wounding. — Eight Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 21st, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SANDS Prosecuted, and MR. GILL Defended.
During the progress of the case MR. GILL stated that the prosecutor
would be indemnified, and MR. SANDS agreeing to proceed no further, the RECORDER assented, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
34. HENRY CHARLES CHANDLER (28), JOHN RUTT (28), ARTHUR MONTGOMERY (34), and DAVID O'SHEA (28) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of William Gibbins, and stealing eighty-eight pairs of boots, his property. Second Count, receiving the same.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted; MR. BURNIE appeared for Rutt, and MR. METCALFE for O'Shea.
EDITH GIBBINS . I am the daughter of William Gibbins, a bootmaker, of 28, Grundy Street, Poplar—on October 24th I returned home late, locked up the house, and went to bed—I was called at three o'clock, went into the shop, and found boots scattered about, and numbers of boots gone.
Cross-examined by Chandler. I am quite satisfied that I locked the door safely—I only bolted the top bolt—I am sure the entrance was not effected at the back—the bolt was not in the same state when I saw it Again, as the door was open then.
ALFRED BALDWIN (654 K). On October 25th I was on duty in Grundy Street at 3.15. a.m., and saw Chandler fifty or sixty yards from Mr. Gibbins' shop, carrying a big bundle of boots on his arm, tied up in a woman's skirt—I turned my light on him, and he ran away, and when he got to Rigden Street threw the boots down—Hillier took them to the station—I stopped Chandler, and told him I should take him for being in possession of the boots—he said, "I have got no boots but what are on my feet, and if you come to my mother's you will see"—I said, "No; you come to the station with me"—I had hold of him; he struggled violently and fell—he got up and got me down, and pulled this hammer out of his pocket and struck me on my head—I got up to make a spring at him, and he struck me again on the back of my head and ran across the East India Dock Road—I got up and followed him—this was 600 or 700 yards from 8, Rigden Street, and right opposite 167, East India Dock Road—I went up Rigden Street, blew my whistle, spoke to two constables, and went on with Beere, and arrested Chandler at a coffee-stall in East India Dock Road not five minutes afterwards—I said, "You are the man I want—he said nothing—he went quietly to the station; there were three of us then—he was charged with unlawful possession and violently assaulting me—I had to go to bed, and was laid up, and am on the sick list still; he pulled my helmet off first, and then cut my head open with the hammer.
HENRY BEERE (237 K). Early in the morning of 25th October Baldwin made a statement to me; he was bleeding from his head—I went with him a short distance, and saw Chandler at a coffee-stall, and took him in custody—he was charged with stealing the boots; I did not hear him make any answer.
ROBERT HILLIER (626 K). I received information from Baldwin, went to 8, Rigden Street, and found seventeen and a half pairs of boots in the area—Mr. Gibbins identified them—later in the morning I went to a garden at the rear of 167, East India Dock Road—Baldwin did not point out the place.
Mr. Gibbins' shop, and came to the conclusion that noforce had been used to the front door, but it had been entered by a false key—the door was swollen, and the bolt had not gone into the socket—I afterwards went to 21, Duff Street, which is fifty or sixty yards off, and found Rutt and his wife in bed in the front room down-stairs; he is the landlord, and Rosina Baker came out of the next room—I found some boots in the next room to where Rutt was sleeping—I went upstairs and found O'Shea and Montgomery in bed—Graham asked for the key of a tin box—O'Shea said, "That is my trunk," and gave him the key; the box was packed with clothing, and on the top of all were eight pairs of boots—I said to O'Shea, "Are these boots yours?"—he said, "I know nothing about them"—I went down to Rutt's room, and said, "I shall take you in custody for stealing and receiving the boots"—he made no reply, but asked for his coat.
Cross-examined by Chandler. Your head was cut; you had to send for a surgeon.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. Rosina Baker was taken in custody, but was discharged by the Magistrate—I did not find that the back room was occupied by Chandler, but I understand that he lodged in the house occasionally, I do not know in what room—there are two rooms and a kitchen on the ground floor, and two rooms upstairs, one of which was occupied by O'Shea and Montgomery, and I found a woman sleeping in the back room—Rosina Baker was dressed when she came out; that was about six a.m.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. O'Shea has lodged in the house about nine weeks—I have seen him there during that time—he was in bed, but had his drawers and socks on—the key came from his trousers pocket, which were on the bed—he did not proffer it before it was asked for—I have not said that O'Shea said, "That is my trunk; here is the key."
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. Rutt was awake—he appeared sober.
Re-examined. After the prisoners were at Holloway, O'Shea sent for me—I went, and he said he wished to make a statement—I took it down, and he signed it—this is it:—"On October 25th, early in the morning, I saw Chandler go out of the house. I was in the kitchen of the same house—No. 21, Duff Street, Poplar. Shortly afterwards Chandler came back in an excited state, and said to Montgomery, who was also in the kitchen, 'Come along, Arthur.' He made no reply, when Chandler again said, in a louder tone of voice, 'Come along, Arthur.' They both then left the house, In about ten minutes afterwards Chandler rushed back to the house, and seemed to be looking for something. He then left, with an article of wearing apparel in his hand. I then had my supper, and was in the act of going upstairs when I saw Chandler and Montgomery come into the house. Chandler was carrying a large bundle containing boots or shoes, which were exposed to view. They entered the back room downstairs, and Chandler said to Montgomery, 'Why don't you close the door, Arthur?' and it was then closed. I then went upstairs to bed. I did not see Montgomery when he came to bed. I know nothing about the boots being in my box. They were not there when I went to bed, as I had occasion to go to my box. I left the key of my box in my waistcoat pocket when I went to bed. I know nothing whatever about the other property found in the house. The watch found in
my possession I gave 5s. for to Mr. Rutt. There was no chain attached to it. I did not know it was a stolen watch. I would like inquiry to be made of my last employers, Messrs. Quinn and Axton, Bon Marche Brixton, and Mr. Henry Dobbs, Westbourne Grove"—I searched O'Shea at the station, and found this silver watch—he said, "That is mine".
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Five shillings would be too little value for the watch—a pawnbroker said it was worth 25s., but he did not say what he would lend on it—I made inquiries where he wished.
JAMES ANDREWS (Police Inspector K). I went with the other officers to 21, Duff Street—O'Shoa asked for his coat—I sent a constable to the back kitchen to fetch it, and before I handed it to him I searched it and found this revolver—I said, "It is unloaded"—he said, "It is a good job for you it is not loaded, or I should have dropped a couple of you"—he was charged with stealing the boots, and made no answer.
FREDERICK GRAHAM (232 K). I was with the other officers at 21, Duff Street—I opened the box and took out eight pairs of boots—O'Shea and Montgomery saw them—they made no reply—I took them both in custody—Montgomery said, "I was at home between one and two last night"—O'Shea said, "I know nothing about the boots"—I had said nothing to him about boots—I saw a large number of pairs going upstairs.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. That was before I found the boots—I did not show them the boots—I asked O'Shea for the key, and he took it from his trousers pocket, which were lying on the bed, and gave it to me.
Re-examined. I found this music-stool under the kitchen table, and charged Rutt with stealing it—he made no reply.
WILLIAM GIBBINS . I have three rooms at 28, Grundy Street, Poplar, and use one of them as a boot maker's shop—I do not sleep there—an 25th October on going there I missed eighty-eight pairs of boots value about £25—I have seen them since.
ANNIE BLAND . I am the wife of a master mariner, of 25, Woodstock Road, Poplar—on March 19th I shut up the house and went out, leaving nobody there—I went back next day and found the front door broken open, and missed property value £25, including shawls and Mackintoshes—one of the bundles was wrapped in this paper with my husband's name on it, Captain Bland, which was in the house at the time—this Mackintosh, two jackets, sheets, quilts, plate and feather are mine.
JAMES ANDREWS (Re-examined). After Rutt and his wife had been taken on the boot charge, I searched the room, and between the mattress and bed on which they had been sleeping, I found this Mackintosh and jacket, and in a box in the room this quilt—this piece of paper was in the fireplace—it is addressed to Captain Bland, and these two silk handkerchiefs have the name of Bland on them—I found three plates in a back room upstairs and the feather in the back room downstairs—I found some of Mrs. Bland's property in every room in the house except the back kitchen.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I found these things twenty minutes or half an hour after they had gone away, not at the time the boots were found.
Cross-examined by Montgomary. I did not wake you up; you were in
custody before I was in the room—I did not go in—I did not say, "The least move of that man, knock him down."
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. O'Shea slept in the front room.
CHRISTIAN SCHLEIBEN . lam a cabinet maker, of 110, St. Paul's Road, Bow—on the evening of October 15th I was in Latham Street and somebody asked me for some matches—I gave them and missed my watch And chain—this is my watch (Produced).
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I have not found my chain—I did not see the man who took my watch.
GEORGE LAMBERT (police sergeant K). Schleiben in my presence charged O'Shea with stealing his watch. (MR. METCALFE submitted that the prosecution could not give evidence of the statement made by O'Shea on being charged; the only thing they could do was to show that it was found in his possession. In this the RECORDER concurred.)
Witness for Rutt.
ROSINA BAKER . I live with my mother at 61, Ropemaker Fields—the prisoner Rutt had been married to my sister six weeks when this happened, and I was living with her—they occupied the ground floor front room, and Chandler occupied the back room—I went home to sleep with my mother, and came to help in the house—I was there on the morning the police came; I had slept there to keep my sister company because her husband did not come home till late—he came home from 1.30 to two o'clock, helplessly drunk—he was brought home by a man—he went into the kitchen first, but did not stop there many minutes—my sister took him into the front room and he went to bed—I stopped there a little while and went into the back room and laid down, Chandler being out; that was the room he usually occupied—he came home about three or 3.30, and I opened the door for him, and had a conversation with him about the bundle he had—he went into the back room with it—he went out again, and I went and laid down in that room, and was coming out when the police came—Rutt had not been into the back room that night, or been out of his bed; he was in bed when Chandler came with the parcel—I did not speak to Chandler at all—I was charged and discharged.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. I do not know whether O'Shea went out that night, or how long he had lodged there—I was not there late at night, as a rule.
Cross-examined by MR. PARTRIDGE. Rutt is the landlord, and lets a part—I sat up with my sister till my brother-in-law came in at two o'clock—he was a little drunk when the police arrived at six o'clock—it was from three to 3.30 when Chandler came in—I do not know that he was in custody at 3.15—we have not got a clock, but I know what time Rutt came in by the clock at the African public-house, at 1.30; I went down to the cab, and saw the time—when Chandler came in, he walked into the kitchen—I said, "What have you got there?"—he put a largo bundle of boots down, and told me to mind my own business, and I walked into the kitchen—he is not a dealer in boots—I felt certain there had been a robbery, and that the boots were stolen—I did not see any boots taken
upstairs—I did not see O'Shea or Montgomery that night; I was tired and was lying down.
By the COURT. I went down and let Chandler in because he knocked; he could not open the door—the others could not get in without taking the latch off—I cannot imagine how the boots got up to the first floor room—Chandler did not go upstairs—I did not hear O'Shea and Montgomery come to the door; they were sitting in the kitchen—Chandler went out first; I am prepared to swear that the other three did not go out, but I was in the room lying down.
By MR. PARTRIDGE. I have never seen any of these things before—I used to go into the front room, but I never did anything there—I have seen the music-stool under the kitchen table—Chandler brought it in on his back on the 19th, and I said, "Where did you get that?"—he said, "I gave three shillings for it, and I hope to make two shillings for myself"—I first told the solicitor about Rutt coming home drunk, this week—I never said anything to the police about it—I thought they had taken my brother-in-law innocent, and I knew that it was important to prove that he was drunk in bed, and told Inspector King so—I swear that—when I looked at the public-house clock the gas was just glimmering, which enabled me to see the clock inside.
Chandler's defence. Miss Gibbins says that she bolted the door, and that there were no marks on the door, and she is sure that no entrance was effected at the back; she ought to know more about the bolts than a policeman. Mr. Gibbins employed a man, who was sleeping in the house, and he went out and left the door open.
Montgomery's defence. I was sitting in the kitchen, and I assisted in getting Rutt to his bedroom, and then I went straight to bed, and was awoke at six o'clock by the police; I asked what was the matter; he said, "Shut up, knock him down"; I said, "Look round the room and see if there is anything that will affect me;" he said, "You shut up, we will do as we like" I have not been seen in the neighbourhood where the offence was committed.
CHANDLER— GUILTY .
RUTT, MONTGOMERY, and O'SHEA— GUILTY on the Second Count.
They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions—Chandler at Clerkenwell on 23rd June, 1890; Rutt at Clerkenwell on April 4th, 1887; Montgomery at Clerkenwell on July 1st 1882; and O'Shea at Guildhall on December 15th, 1893. Eleven other convictions were proved against Chandler, three against Rutt, and four against Montgomery. CHANDLER— Eight Years' Penal Servitude , RUTT— Five Years' Penal Servitude. MONTGOMERY— Three Years' Penal Servitude. O'SHEA— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
home, 1, Zetland Street, safe—I returned at 4.55 and found it had been broken open—I missed £4 in gold, 3s. 6d. in silver, a watch, ring, bracelet, opera glasses, and other articles value £10, from my bedroom—this is my property (Produced).
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The opera glasses were broken, like these.
ERNEST HAZLE . I am the husband of the last witness—on October 15th, at 8.15, I found this piece of wood in my bedroom—I handed it to the police—we only occupy the first floor, the landlord occupying the rest—there are no other lodgers.
WILLIAM JABEZ (82 k). I received this piece of wood from Hazle—I examined the doors at 1, Zetland Street—the bedroom door had been forced by a jemmy, and the marks corresponded with this piece of wood.
GEORGE LAMBERT (Policeman K). On October 20th I saw the prisoner in the Sherwood Arms, Bow Common, and said, "I shall take you in custody on suspicion of committing a house-breaking at 1, Zetland Street"—when we got outside, he said, "That is right; you have just sent somebody to put the things on me," and endeavoured to pass this opera-glass to a man in the crowd, and he said, "Don't put anything in my pocket; they are mine. I bought them of a dealer in Johnson's sale-rooms"—at the station he handed me from his pocket this bracelet and pair of glasses, and said, "Here are the others. I bought the things in the Sherwood Arms for 8s. 6d. ten minutes before I was arrested"—I searched the house, and found this piece of wood—I find it matches exactly the piece where it has been cut through with a saw; it has been one piece of wood—I showed it to the prisoner at the Court, and he said, "You do not call that a match, do you?"—I found four or five shillings on him.
Cross-examined. Jabez gave me one piece of wood, and I found the other piece in a cupboard in the room you live in—I only took two pieces away, and I pointed them out to your wife; they were in a tool-box—I did not take hold of your coat-sleeve till you gave the glasses away—I took them partly out of your pocket; you got them out of the case—you threw the case out of your pocket at the station.
STEPHEN LEACH (Police Sergeant C). I was with Lambert at the Sherwood Arms—the sergeant took him outside, and a pair of opera-glasses were taken from him; he struggled and tried to get away—he said at the station," There are the other articles," and handed out these articles in a muffler.
Cross-examined. The opera-glasses were taken from your coat pocket—I had hold of your arm—I did not force ray fingers down your neck.
Cross-examined. I took them from your hand; you were trying to pass them to somebody else—I did not see you buy the things.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN DUTTON . The prisoner lodges in the same house as I do—I saw him moving between five and six p.m.—I was moving too—he moved his things to the house that I moved to from the other side of the way.
Cross-examined. I did not see him between four and five—I said before the Magistrate that I saw him at nearly six p.m.; after 5.30.
MRS. MUDD. I saw the prisoner on this Monday night, between 4.30 and five o'clock, helping his wife to move—it was not 5.30, because the children were not home from school—I saw Mrs. Dutton there—I only saw the prisoner once.
Cross-examined. I was moving to the same house—I fix the time because I know when the children come home from school—I got in before six o'clock—Mrs. Dutton was not in.
Cross-examined. You sent me to the barman at the public-house—I took a statement from him, and he signed it, but it is not very much in your favour—the barmanis not here; he would not come. (The statement was here read at the prisoner's request. "CHARLES ROBERT LONGFORD, barman, Sherwood Arms, Bow Common Lane.—I remember the night Weaver was arrested; it was on Saturday, the 20th October. He had been in the private bar thirty to forty minutes. He came in by himself, called for two of brandy; I served him. About fifteen minutes before he was arrested he was joined by another man, who I only know by sight. I saw Weaver show the other man a small pair of opera-glasses, and afterwards put them in his pocket. I did not hear the conversation; when I first saw the glasses Weaver was taking them from his pocket, and he then passed them to the other man. He had hardly put them in his pocket when he was arrested. Since Weaver has been arrested his wife has been to me and asked me to attend the trial and say I saw Weaver buy the articles of a man ten minutes before he was arrested.")
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he bought the things in the Sherwood Arms for 8s., 6d., not thinking they were stolen, and that he only struggled because the officers were hurting him.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at this Court on June 29th, 1891, and five other convictions were proved against him.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
The GRAND JURY commended the conduct of the police, in which the RECORDER concurred.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 21st, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MACAULAY— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. LINGARD— Four Months' Hard Labour.
for the case of GILMOUR and WARD, tried in this Court this day, see Surrey Cases.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, November 22nd, 1894.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. PAUL TAYLOR Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Defended.
EDITH MARY ANDREWS . Prior to 31st July I had been living with the prisoner at 65, Egerton Gardens, as man and wife—he is an American lawyer—I am English—we were in the habit of using rifles in various rooms of the house, including the bedroom—on the morning of 31st July I directed the prisoner's attention to a defect in a revolver—there were two revolvers; one a little bright one, and one a black one—the defect was in the little bright one—this was in the bedroom—he endeavoured to see to the defect; it had got fixed—I think he went down to the dining-room; I was in the bedroom—after he returned to the bedroom we had some words; they were only casual words—the temper was mine; I was angry with him because I asked him for some money, and he could not let me have it, and I was rude to him—it did not continue any time—I cannot remember what I said—I was angry with him because he did not give me money that I wanted—he had not the bright revolver in his hand at the time; it was under the pillow—the black one was in his pocket—I don't think the bright one was fixed, but I don't know—he did not express any intention of doing anything to me or himself—I do not remember what was said—he did not say ho would cut his throat—he said he would shoot himself—I do not remember whether he had the revolver in his hand when he said that—he said it because I was angry with him—about half-past twelve that morning I was going out, and I left the bedroom to go and see my doctor in the drawing-room; after he left I was going up to the bedroom again—the prisoner was at the top of the stairs—I merely looked at him; you could hardly see on the stairs, it was very dark; if he was there I must have seen him; I did see him—I did not see whether he had anything in his hand—I left him in the bedroom—I said to him, "Goodbye, I shall not be long"—I don't think he made any reply—I opened the door to go out, and as I closed the door I heard a revolver shot; at the same time I found that my face was cut with glass—the door had two panels of stained glass—I screamed and rushed out of the house—I met Mr. Leslie and went into his house—I made a statement to him—I said I had been shot—I remained in his house for two or three hours—then the police came—I went to the Westminster Police-court, and there swore an information—this was on the 31st July—I did not give any evidence till the 11th September—to the best of my belief the shot was an accident—I think so—at the time I left the flat the prisoner was standing at the top of the stairs, by the bedroom—there was about ten minutes between seeing him at the top of the stairs and my leaving him in the bedroom—I left him in the bedroom, not in bed—he was not dressed; he was in his pyjamas—I don't know that he was practising with the revolver; he had it there; I think one was in his trousers pocket, the other was under his pillow—I am quite sure he was not going up to the bedroom when I left him—I left him in the bedroom
—when I left the flat he was standing at the top of the stairs—he was not going up the stairs, I could not exactly tell—when I was in the drawing-room speaking to my doctor the prisoner came down—I saw his hand on the drawing-room door, just opening it, and he went down again—I did not see where he went to—the last time I saw him he was at the top of the stairs—I don't know whether he was standing on the stairs—he had seen to the mechanism of the revolver in the dining-room—I can't say whether it was in good order when he took it upstairs—he had endeavoured to see what was the matter with it—it had become fixed as we were practising; I can't say how—he used a little file to it in the dining-room—I can't say whether it was rectified—I had no conversation with him about it—I wanted to take it away from him, that was the way it became fixed—I took it away from him because he threatened to shoot himself in the bedroom—I was not trying to discharge it—I did not take it from him; my recollection is clear as to that—I did not say at the Police-court that I took it from him—I was very agitated—I don't recollect saying so—I made a statement to the policeman when I first saw him that day.
Cross-examined. I had been under the same roof with the prisoner for eighteen months; during that time he treated me with the greatest possible kindness and affection—I had every reason to believe that he was devotedly attached to me—the tiff we had on this day was of a very slight character; I was very fond of him, and he of me—we were on the best possible terms—we had both been in the habit of handling firearms, he had taught me to do it—it is a fact that on this morning the bright revolver had got out of repair—the last I saw of him was when he was approaching the top of the stairs leading to the bedroom—as far as I know, he had nothing in his hand—the door was wood at the bottom and thick, dark glass at the top—as you come out of the room you turn slightly to the right—the glass was very slightly injured.
By the COURT I had been suffering from hysteria, and under the doctor's care before then—I am subject to hysteria—it was about twenty minutes before the shot was fired that we had the dispute about the money—I had tried to take the pistol from him about three-quarters of an hour before—I think I had tried to take the pistol from him before the dispute—I can't say why he should shoot himself; I can't say if it was on account of the tiff—I believe I have said that he followed me after the shot; that was not true, it was a delusion—he was on the stairs when I went out at the glass door, I called up to say good-bye—I did not then see the pistol in his hand—I did say that he was after me with a revolver in his hand; they told me so; I was very frightened—it was not true; I did not know what I was doing—nobody told me that he was after me, it was my own statement.
ALFRED HENRY LESLIE . I am a stationer, and live at 233, Brompton Road—I did not know the prosecutrix till 31st July—about half-past twelve on that day my attention was attracted by a noise and a scream, and, looking out of my window, I saw her coming towards me—I went into the street, and met her—she was excited, and her face was bleeding—at her request I took her into my private room, and sent for a doctor—she remained in the house two or three hours, till the police came—the number of my house is 69, Egerton Gardens; that is two doors from 65.
Cross-examined. She was very excited—I was examined before the Magistrate on 11th September—I was then asked the state of her mind—I do not remember saying, "I can't say that she knew what she was doing," but it would be something to that effect.
CHARLOTTE HARPER . I am the housekeeper of these flats—I used to work for Mr. Bennett and Miss Andrews—on 31st July, shortly before half-past twelve, I had not heard anything; they were always on the best of terms—there was a slight difference that morning—I never heard any angry words before that—about half-past twelve I was in the kitchen, and heard a report—I came out of the kitchen, and went towards the drawing-room—I saw a slight smoke in the passage and steps below—I did not see where Mr. Bennett was—after going to the drawing-room I returned to the kitchen—I then met Mr. Bennett—he came down the stairs leading from the bedroom—he went towards the drawing-room—I don't remember whether he entered it—he was only dressed in a pyjama suit—he then returned and went upstairs—he said nothing to me, or I to him—hearing the door bang I looked up—I heard Miss Andrews scream after he had returned to the bedroom—I heard the electric bell at the street door—that was about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after Miss Andrews had left—a policeman came after that—the bedroom bell rang, and I went up, leaving the policeman downstairs—I found the bed-room door shut and locked—I turned the handle, but could not get in—Mr. Bennett said, "Open the door"—I said, "I cannot"—he said, "Get it open"—at that time the policeman came up—I then went down to the kitchen, leaving the policeman there—I was not there when the door was opened—the door was always locked when they were there together—I could not say that it was when he was there by himself—he generally got up early, and went out about half-past nine.
Cross-examined. I had been with them seven months—they were in the habit of practising with firearms in the bedroom—I had the opportunity of seeing the terms on which they lived—he was always extremely kind to her—I had never known them to quarrel—I noticed a slight difference occasionally, not enough to make me think there was any row or words; nothing beyond that—I had not noticed any difference that morning.
Re-examined. After the scream and the report Mr. Bennett came downstairs—the report I heard was a pistol shot; I thought it was an explosion; it sounded very loud—I was in the habit of hearing pistol shots in the bedroom—being downstairs it sounded louder, as I was much nearer; I was on the same floor—I had not heard the report of a pistol out of the bedroom before—the shriek alarmed me it was very loud—I made a remark to a little girl, my daughter, who was sitting with me—the report did not seem to come from the bedroom; it came from the stairs; it was in the passage—I heard a second explosion; that was before I went up" and found the door locked—it was not that which took me up; it was the ringing of the bell—that was not many minutes afterwards.
ROBERT WALKER (33 B). I was sent for to 69, Egerton Gardens, on 31st July, about half-past twelve—I saw the prosecutrix at Mr. Leslie's—after taking the particulars of the case I went with her to the station; that was about two hours afterwards—a statement was made to me by
Miss Andrews; in consequence of that statement I went to No. 65—Mrs. Harper opened the door; she made a statement to me—I then went up to the bedroom—I tried to open the door; it was locked on the inside—I shouted, "Will you open the door, sir?"—the prisoner shouted from inside, "I can't"—he then broke the wood panel of the door out from the inside—I then pushed the door partly open, and saw the prisoner lying on the bed with a wound in the right ear—Inspector Andrews came afterwards—I found two revolvers under the pillow—I produce them—the bed was near the door, at the back of the door; there were two pillows on the bed—I found the revolvers under the pillow nearest him, both under the same pillow—the black one was fully loaded in five chambers, the bright one had one chamber empty and the three contained loaded cartridges—the inspector found the bullet.
Cross-examined. The prisoner told me that he was testing the Revolver and it went off and shot him.
GEORGE ANDREWS (Inspector B). About half-past twelve on 31st July, I was called to Mr. Leslie's house and saw Miss Andrews there—she made a statement to me, in consequence of which I went to 65—I found that the door of the flat was shut—I went to the bedroom first—the door had already been broken open by the sergeant—I went into the room and found the defendant lying on the bed—I said to him, "Miss Andrews states that you have shot her, or shot at her"—he said, "I was simply testing the revolver, when it went off; I should not think of hurting her"—the last witness" handed me these two pistols—I made an examination of the bedroom—I found two guns—I did not see any pistols in the bed-room—a warrant was obtained that day, but I did not execute it till the 11th September, owing to Mr. Bennett being ill—I was present when he was charged on that warrant—I read it to him—he said nothing in answer to it—I have handled a few revolvers—the bright revolver is in the same condition, as far as the mechanism is concerned, as I received it—it works stiffly; you have to pull it hard—I examined the flat—on the inside I found a flattened bullet on the right-hand side of the door in the passage—on examining the left panel, I found a hole about one inch by two inches, five feet six from the ground—I made these plans—a person standing on the staircase leading from the bedroom could command that door, except when getting near the corner—I have the bullet that was extracted from the prisoner's head; the other one has been mislaid.
Cross-examined. The glass on the door was leaded—the staircase had the ordinary banister running along it.
CHARLES MURCOCK . I am a gun-maker, of Goldhawk Road, Hammersmith—I had two bullets handed to me by the last witness, also the bright pistol—the bullets fit it, and have the appearance of having been fired from it; they bear the impression of the rifling on the barrel.
Cross-examined. The bright revolver is not out of order; it is stiff from dirt, and it works very stiffly—it requires rather more manipulation to cock it.
DENNIS VINNESS . I am a surgeon, of 24, Alexander Square—on July 31st, about half-past twelve, I was sent for—I went to Mr. Leslie's, and found Miss Andrews there—I found he had a few scattered wounds on
the right cheek; they were very trivial, caused by the shivering of the glass—there was a small portion of glass in one of the wounds—she made a sort of rambling statement—she was very excited, very wild—I afterwards went to 65, and remained there some time.
Cross-examined. While I was there the prisoner put the question, "Is she safe?"—he was in a dazed and faint condition, and I think he could not realise his position—the appearance of his wound would lead me to the conclusion that the pistol was not fired close to the head, or it would have had the appearance of fire, and of being charred—there was no laceration—it was a perfectly clean-cut wound—it was rather a slight wound—it was quite consistent with its having been caused by his twisting it while in bed, and accidentally going off—he might be capable of putting it behind the pillow afterwards; I could not say definitely.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for attempting to commit suicide upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 22nd, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
He received a good character.— Eleven Months' Hard Labour.
MR. JONES Prosecuted, and MR. HALL Defended.
SAMUEL ORTECK . I am manager to Mr. Johnson, a fruit merchant, of Leeds, who has had dealings with Messrs. Ullmann, of Covent Garden, and was indebted to them £5 6s. 8d.—I sent them this cheque (produced) on November 10th.
MAXIMILIAN ULLMANN . I trade as Ullmann and Co., wholesale fruiteiers, of Covent Garden—in the spring of 1892 I employed the prisoner as a clerk, and he continued so till March, 1893—in August or September, 1892, I met with a serious accident, and the prisoner was authorised to open letters in my absence—the endorsement on this cheque is his writing—I gave him no authority to do so—on opening letters and finding cheques, it was his duty to put them with a paying-in slip, and wait till I or my brother came to endorse them—this endorsement is neither mine or my brother's—these paying-in slips are in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. I have carried on business fourteen years as an oyster merchant, and in the fruit business, too, in my brother-in-law's name—I have been involved in litigation through robberies, and have had three or four actions—in 1889 I was sued by the Ardree Oyster Fishery Company before Justice Fry, who said in giving judgment, "The defendant's answers render it impossible to place the slighest reliance on his evidence, as he is utterly untrustworthy"—I lost my temper with the Counsel—I never became bankrupt in my life; a petition in bankruptcy was presented—I appeared before the Official Receiver and was cross-examined by him—I did not say that the various businesses carried on by Ullmann and
Co. were not my property—I did not swear that they were the property of my brother Albert—I was subsequently prosecuted for perjury, and the Magistrate stopped the case—the man had robbed me of £3,000—the Magistrate said he did not believe a word they said—after five remands my brother Albert did not come forward and swear that the business was his—in 1891 I carried on business in the name of Carlton and Co. with my brother-in-law—a man named Smart was in it before I joined him—Carlton and Co. did not obtain an order for about £4,000 worth of oranges, I never bought an orange in my life—when Carlton and Co. closed up they paid twenty shillings in the pound—they did not pay their agent Shipper £150—we bought some pine apples, and lost about £2,000 over them—I paid £4,000 for them—when I engaged the prisoner my brother sent him to me, and said that he only paid him 3s. 6d. a week as housekeeper, and I said, "Send him down"—that was to Fish Street Hill at first, and afterwards to Hart Street—I first paid him £1 as checker, but I found he could speak three or four languages, and then gave him 30s. a week, and afterwards £2—I never promised him a commission—my brother Leopold lived on the premises, and I was there from morning to night—I had twenty other businesses going on at the same time—it was not my brother Leopold who carried on the business—he is single, and lived in the upper part—he had authority to endorse cheques when I was abroad—he is not here.
Re-examined. 6, Bernard Street is my house, and I let it to him—no goods were ever sent there to my knowledge.
ARTHUR WOODTHORPE . I am manager to Haws and Son, jewellers, of Cranbourn Street, Leicester Square—in August, 1892, we sold the prisoner a pianoforte and some clocks, which were sent to 20, Berners Street, Russell Square—the piano was addressed to Ullmann and Co. not to Krantz, and signed for in the name of Ullmann, and the clocks in another name—we have not got the receipt, as the van proprietors delivered the piano.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this COURT on 18th November, 1889, of obtaining money by false pretences, in the name of Bruno Krantz. Other convictions were proved, and there was another indictment against him.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GILL Prosecuted.
MARIA WILLIAMS . I am the wife of Sydney Herbert Williams, of Morrison's Buildings, Commercial Road—on Saturday evening, October 20th, I was at Aldersgate Street Railway Station trying to get into a carriage—I had a bag containing a purse and £1 8s. 10d.—I felt something pressing against me very hard and found my bag open and the prisoner just taking his hand out of it—a gentleman seized him, and he was given in custody—he said, "I made a mistake, Miss."
Cross-examined by the prisoner. No railway guard came to me, but one was taking some luggage out of a carriage—the gentleman did not cone to the station; he was sitting inside the carriage—I did not say that I
had made a mistake, and allow you to go away out of my sight—I caught hold of your left hand and then I saw my purse in your right hand.
The prisoner called
HENRY RANDALL . On October 20th I was at the Underground Railway, Aldersgate Street Station, in the right-hand corner of a carriage, with my back to the engine—the lady tried to open the door, her bag was open, and she said, "You have got my purse"—I rushed out, leaving my luggage in the train, and seized the prisoner—he said, "I have not got it"—I tussled with him four or five minutes—the station-master came and asked what was the matter; the prisoner said, "Let me go and give me another chance"—I said, "No, you will do someone else in another half hour."
The prisoner commenced a cross-examination of the witness, but the RECORDER ruled that leaving called him he could not cross-examine his own witness.
Prisoner's defence. The lady says she saw me draw my hand from the bag and that the purse was in my other hand, but if my hand was in her bag, and she caught hold of it, how could the purse come into my other hand?
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on October 5th, 1885, when he was sentenced to five years' penal servitude for stealing a watch from the person , and eight other convictions were proved againsthim.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. JOSEPH Prosecuted, and MR. MUIR Defended.
The RECORDER asked the JURY whether, from the girl's appearance, the prisoner might not have reasonably supposed that she was over sixteen.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
EDWARD BAGLEY (6 H R). On Sunday morning, 21st October, at 1.30, I was with Watkinson in Brushfield Street, Spitalfields, heard cries of "Police, murder" ran into Paternoster Court, and saw the prosecutor bleeding from his face—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "I have been knocked down by that man, and robbed of 15s.," pointing to the prisoner—at that moment the prisoner raised his stick and struck at the prosecutor, but Watkinson rushed in and prevented him—he was very violent, he threw us to the ground twice, and we had to send to the station and get straps and strap him down—the prosecutor had been struck on his head, mouth, and face—he was smothered with blood, and there was mud on him—the prisoner said that there was more than one man.
By the COURT. The prosecutor lives at common lodging-houses, and
when the case was committed the date was not fixed for these Sessions—he promised to come to the station day by day—he came twice, and I have not seen him since.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see you strike him, but if it had not been for Watkinson you would have done so when he accused you of robbing him.
EBER WATKINSON (141 H). I was with Bagley, heard cries of "Police" and "Murder," ran into Paternoster Court, and saw the prosecutor rising from the ground—the prisoner tried to strike him—I prevented him, and he kicked me on my belly—he got us both to the ground—we sent for the ambulance, and took him to the station, where it took four men to hold him—he said that Sir Forrest Fulton could only give him ten years—the prosecutor's pocket was cut out—he said he had been robbed.
Cross-examined. He accused you and others—he did not appear on the first Monday; he appeared on the remand—you had threepence on you—I do not think you had any knife or scissors—I saw your stick going down, and seized your hand—that was before he accused you of robbery.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The constable did not charge me last Monday with assaulting him. I want to know why he did not."
Prisoner's defence. I asked the prosecutor what time elapsed between the robbery and the arrival of the police; he said, "Fifteen minutes." If I had been guilty of robbing him, should I stay there fifteen minutes till the police arrived? I have only one leg and one arm; how could I rob a man? I do not want sympathy; I want justice.
GUILTY of assault with intent to rob. The police stated that he had been seven times convicted of assaults, and was so violent that they had often to take his leg from him to get him to the station.
Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
JOHN WALTER HARRIS . I am a sewer-man, of 4, Tate Street, Commercial Road—on Saturday night, November 10th, I was in a public-house in the Minories, where a concert was going on—I came out alone to make water—I had seen the prisoner in the room, but had not spoken to him—he followed me downstairs, and I went about twenty yards—he was behind me, and said, "If you follow me I will give you this," holding up his right hand with a knife—two men were with him, but they got discharged; only one of them was at the concert—I had a friend with me, but I was alone when I was attacked—I was struck on my breast—my coat was unbuttoned—I went and showed myself to the publican, and was taken to Guy's Hospital and examined—the prisoner took the knife from his belt and struck me with his right hand.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not follow you out of the public-house—I had no words with you—I only saw you and your friend—I did not see a gentleman who said he was an American, sitting at a table having something with an Englishman—I did not go to him and tell him
if he had any respect for his country not to make a fool of himself—I did not push him down four steps as you led him to the door.
By the COURT. This was a very dark place—I do not know whether I told the inspector that I went down first—I had lost a great deal of blood—perhaps somebody had attempted to rob the prisoner, and he attacked me—I am quite certain I was sober.
SAMUEL OGDEN . I am a private in the Grenadier Guards, Tower of London—on November 10th I was outside the Red Lion, Minories—Harris came out first, and the two other men followed him, and presently I saw blood streaming from him—the other men were discharged by the Magistrate.
Cross-examined. I saw three men come out of the public-house, but only two were together, you and Costello—you went to a public-house in the corner—I saw you strike Harris—Costello was behind you.
CORNELIUS FOGERTY .—I am a carman, of 1, Hayden Square, Minories—on November 10th I was at the Red lion—the prisoner and Harris and two other men were there—Harris went out of the concert-room, leaving his friend behind, and the prisoner and his two friends followed right behind him—I heard Harris grumbling to his friends about the noise the prisoner made—I followed them to the gateway at the side of the house, and saw the prisoner strike Harris a blow, I should say on his left breast—I went with the police to a lodging-house, and identified the prisoner and another comrade—it is not true that Harris kicked the prisoner going downstairs.
Cross-examined. I saw the American gentleman coming up the steps—I did not say "Is this gentleman with you?"—I did not see Harris push the American down the steps—there are seven steps, and I was handing the beer up then—Harris went into a dark court, and you followed him—I saw you strike him with your right hand, and saw the soldier catch hold of you, and the short one said, "Come away, quick, or we shall be caught."
JOHN STEWART (707 City). On the night of November 10th I went with Fogerty to the General Gordon, Brushfield Street, and saw the prisoner—I said I was a police officer, and he would be charged with unlawfully wounding the prosecutor—he said, "I know I have been knocking about, but it is not necessary for me to use a knife, as I can use these" (his fists) "so well"—I found a knife in his jacket—he was in bed and undressed at the time—there is no blood on it that I can detect—he gave no trouble—I consider he was sober—I saw Harris some hours afterwards—he was sober, but he evidently had been drinking.
GEORGE LAURENCE , M.R.C.S. I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on the night of November 10th Harris was brought in with a wound on his left breast, just over the heart; it was three inches long, but superficial—he was not in danger—this knife would inflict it—he was wearing his waistcoat and coat—I saw him about eleven o'clock; he was sober, as far as I know.
friends went out first, and that he was going out with a friend, but went to the urinal first—he was very much agitated.
Cross-examined I saw three knives—there was a mark on one; I should not like to say what it was—Harris said that it was a small whitehandled knife—it was new, and being white would be seen more plainly in a dark place.
Prisoner's defence. I went to the Red lion with two American gentlemen who were stopping at the same hotel. I had only been in London two days. We hurried into this court, and as I turned to come out I was received by the prosecutor, who struck me, and I struck him again with my fist I had no time to get a knife; the knife was found in a coat pocket in my room. Even if I had a knife in my pocket it was rusty, and I was unable to open it I was brought up to use my fists as well as any man. I am a law-abiding citizen.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Three Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 22nd, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BRUCE Prosecuted.
JOHN JUKES (Sergeant 47 City). On October 26th I examined the wall of the warehouse of Mr. Samuel Stutterford—under the first floor window there is a crane—I found marks on the wall as if somebody had crawled up—the window was open, and glass broken—inside, the place appeared to have been ransacked, and was in general disorder—on the table on the first floor I found this old pair of boots—I subsequently found the prisoner in custody on a charge of unlawful possession—I said, "I shall ask for your discharge this morning on this charge, and I shall take you to the station, where you will be charged with breaking and entering the premises of Mr. Samuel Stutterford, where I found these old boots"—he was wearing new boots—he said, "Yes, they belong to me"—I gave them to him, and he put them on.
ZIBA BECKETT (414 H). On October 26th I met the prisoner in Chamber Street, Whitechapel, a little after three a.m.—he wished me good morning, and asked me the way to Leman Street—I said, "Which part of Leman Street?" he said, "Cable Street"—I directed and followed him, but he took the wrong turning—he was carrying a coat on his arm—I met another constable and we stopped him and asked him what he had in his overcoat—he said, "A pair of boots"—it was bulky—I found in it a pair of new boots—I detained him, and he was charged with unlawful possession—at Leman Street lie handed me nineteen pairs of gloves—four other pairs of boots were found in his overcoat pockets—he was wearing this pair of new brown leather boots—he handed me these three bills of exchange—he said he bought the boots of a man in the Whitechapel Road that he had not seen before or since.
25th, I fastened up the warehouse—I left at 9.30 p.m.—everything was clear then—next morning I found the place in the possession of the police and in disorder—these bills of exchange were in the private office.
JOSEPH PHILLIPS . I live at 20, Walford Street, Stepney—I am a porter to Mr. Stutterford—these bills belong to the firm—the boots are ours—they have my own private mark upon them—the six pairs are worth sixty shillings, or a little more.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerken-well in June, 1894, in the name of Arthur Horn.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. C. MATHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. WALLER Defended.
The prisoner, through an interpreter, stated in the hearing of the JURY that he was
GUILTY , upon which they found that verdict.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT. Friday, November 23rd, 1894.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ERNEST BEARD Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
There being no satisfactory evidence of the prisoner's handwriting, the JURY found him NOT GUILTY.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended Solomon Bittan.
After MR. PARTRIDGE'S opening, the prisoners stated that they would PLEAD GUILTY, upon which the JURY found that verdict, the defendants stating that there should be no repetition of the libels.
Three Months' Imprisonment, and to find sureties in £100 for nine months.
49. RICHARD FORD (30), HENRY SESSIONS (24), JOHN HAMMOND (24), ERNEST CHARD (23) and CHARLES WORTH (23) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Solomon Linden, and stealing eleven coats.
SESSIONS, HAMMOND and WORTH PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. WOODCOCK Prosecuted.
SOLOMON LINDEN . I am a tailor and outfitter, of 182, Pentonville Road, Clerkenwell—on the night of 1st November I left my shop safe and secure—I was called up about ten minutes past one by the police and a gentleman; I came down in my slippers and let in a policeman—I found that one portion of the shop was cleared of goods to the amount of £23—I have since seen one coat, which was pawned; the window was broken
to the extent of twenty-four inches by eighteen, and there were footmarks—the police were there immediately.
ROBERT GEORGE HARTLEY . I am a solicitor's clerk, and live at 8, Darley Street, King's Cross—about one o'clock on the morning of 2nd November I was passing down Pentonville Road—when about 150 yards of the prosecutor's shop, I heard a smash of glass—my suspicions were aroused, and I hurried on sixty or seventy yards nearer, when I saw two men running from the house across the road in a straight line—I pursued them; they ran along till they came to York Street, where I lost sight of them—I came back to Pentonville Road—I met an officer, and told him the facts—we went to Mr. Linden's, and called him up—the window was broken—the clothes immediately behind the window were not disturbed, but at the back they were taken away.
WALTER SELBY (Policeman G). On the 2nd inst., early in the morning, about 12.45, I was on my way home—opposite York Road, Pentonville, I saw the two prisoners and three other men standing at the corner of York Road, directly opposite the prosecutor's shop, and about six yards from a common lodging-house—on the 6th November I saw the two prisoners in Pentonville Road in company together—we followed them to Wharfdale Road; I then arrested Ford—I told him he would be charged with being concerned with others detained at the station, in committing a burglary on Pentonville Hill—he made no reply—Chard was taken by another officer at the time—I know all the prisoners well.
JOHN CLAYDON . I am a labourer—I object to giving my present address—on the morning of November 2nd, about 1.30,1 was living at 207, Pentonville Road, a common lodging-house—hearing a rather unusual noise in the passage of the lodging-house, I went to ascertain the cause, and saw Hammond and Chard—Hammond was speaking in rather a loud voice for Long Dick (Ford)—Ford appeared at the door of the lodging-house—in about two minutes Hammond said to him, "Bring out this blasted stuff"—Ford went back, and to the best of my belief he must have gone into the lodging-house kitchen—about a minute after he appeared carrying in his hand a four-bushel sack—he threw it down on the steps of the lodging-house, and judging by the sound of it it contained some soft material—after waiting a few minutes Hammond picked up the sack, put it on his back, and went towards King's Cross Road, followed by Ford and Chard.
JOSEPH HOUGH (29 G R). On the early morning of November 2nd, about a quarter to one, I was in Pentonville Road, and saw the prisoners and three others together outside the lodging-house—I have no doubt they are the men; I know them all—about five minutes later I heard the breaking of a window—when I went up the prisoners had all gone—agentleman came down the hill and rang the prosecutor up—I then found the shop window open.
FORD and CHARD— GUILTY .
Chard and Sessions then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Chard on December 8th, 1893, and Sessions on September 24th, 1890.
FORD— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. HAMMOND— Eight Months' Hard Labour. SESSIONS, WORTH and CHARD— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SELLS Prosecuted.
CHRISTOPHER HORTON . I live at 9, Bateman Row, Shoreditch—on the night of 21st October, about nine minutes to twelve, I was in Great Pearl Street—I saw the prisoners there—one of them caught me by the throat, while the other rifled my pockets, and took away a pocket-knife and a shilling—I could not swear which one it was; I was too upset to be quite certain—I was not hurt at all; I suffered no pain—they did not treat me brutally—this is my knife.
Cross-examined by Hennessy I said at the station at first that it was you who caught hold of me—I afterwards said at Worship Street that it was Cain.
Cross-examined by Cain. I could not identify you at first.
WILLIAM CLARK (278 B). On the night of 21st October I was in company with Funnell in Great Pearl Street—at the corner I saw the prosecutor coming up the street—the prisoners sprang upon him—Cain caught him by the throat, and Hennessy rifled his pockets—Funnell ran and got behind them—on seeing him they ran from him towards me—Hennessy butted me violently with his head in the stomach—I took him to the station; Cain escaped—knowing the two prisoners I described him—on the way to the station Hennessy dropped this shilling down the area of the station; I afterwards recovered it—on being searched at the station this penknife was found in his coat pocket, and was identified by the prosecutor—on being charged he said, "I give you credit; I thought you were two flats. I suppose I shall get a fiver this time"—we were off duty at this time—the prosecutor was dazed; he bore the marks next morning, on his thumb, finger and throat—Hennessy was arrested at the corner of Great Pearl Street—he knocked the breath out of me—I seized him by the hands, and brought them under his throat—I shoved him along, so that he went into the station backwards—just outside the station door he opened his hand, and dropped the shilling—I had kept his hands closed till then.
WALTER FUNNELL (88 H). On Sunday night, October 21st, about a quarter to twelve, I was at the corner of Great Pearl Street with the last witness, and saw the prosecutor coming up the centre of the street—suddenly he was seized by the prisoner Cain by the neck, and Hennessy commenced rifling his pockets—when they saw me they ran towards Clark—Cain got away—I went back and took the prosecutor to the station, knowing that the neighbourhood was so rough, and that he might probably get knocked about—I took Hennessy to the station, and shortly after Cain was brought in, and I recognised him.
CHARLES SMITH (Police Constable). On the morning of 22nd October I arrested Cain in Great Pearl Street—I told him the charge—he said, "All right; all you coppers are upon me"—he was taken to the station, and identified by the other two witnesses—when charged he said "Thank you" to the inspector.
GUILTY . Hennessy then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court On 16th October, 1893. Cain had also been several times in custody.
HENNESSY— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour, and twenty strokes with the Cat. CAIN— Twelve Months Hard Labour, and twenty strokes with the Cat.
MR. BANNER Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended Schennick.
WILLIAM DOUGLAS . I am an iron merchant, of 2, Billiter Street—on October 22nd, about five o'clock, I was walking in Whitechapel—I went to call on a customer—he was not in, and I walked across to Belmont's gunshop—I stood there about five minutes, and looked at my watch to see the time, and then walked across the street slowly and carefully, when Hammerman went for my watch—it nearly paralysed me—I saw him running up George Yard—Schennick then came up, and gave me a smack and knocked me down—it was quite daylight—I informed the police—Hammerman ran away at once, and Schennick, after knocking me down, ran in the same direction—I went to the station next morning—I identified Schennick first as the man who struck me—I was not so sure of Hammerman, but no man could be more like the man that stole my chain—I said he was as like him as two peas.
Cross-examined. It was a very lovely afternoon—I was crossing the street at the time this happened—the first thing in the way of violence was snatching the chain, then the assault—that person came to me face to face—I had no difficulty in seeing him—I don't remember whether the lamps were alight—I went into a bootshop to have my coat and hat brushed—a policeman came, and I gave him a description of the two men—I went to the station immediately after—I said I had been robbed of my watch and chain, but my watch remained—the value of the bit of chain was 2d.—I identified the prisoners next morning—the inspector said, "I think we have got the men, from your description"—I was, of course, prepared to find them there, but I should know that long fellow (Hammerman) from a hundred—I can't remember how many people were there; a dozen or fifteen, perhaps—I made a mistake; I picked out one other man first, but when I saw this man afterwards I was sure of him.
By the COURT. I walk a little lame—the man struck me hard enough to throw me on the ground—there was no hustling; I am too careful about getting into any hustling—it was a distinct blow; he sent me spinning like a top.
Cross-examined by Hammerman. When I came to the station you were placed with a lot more men—I did not pick you out at first—the inspector said, "Look round, and make sure of the man that stole your watch"—I said, "There is a man very like him"—I did not put my hand on the man—I say now you look like the man; I feel sure you are the man—I said I would not go the length of wearing to you—the other man was not so like the man as you are—there was not a quarter of a minute between the snatching of the chain and the assault—it was a clean knockdown blow.
MARK COHEN . I live at 107, Grove Road—on 22nd October, five minutes past five, as I was standing outside my master's shop, I saw the two prisoners running towards George Yard—I afterwards identified them at the Thames Police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. High Street is a very crowded place.
By the COURT. I picked the prisoners out of about twelve persons—I have no doubt about them.
Cross-examined by Hammerman. I said before the Magistrate that I knew you by your stature—I was about twenty yards from the prosecutor—I have no doubt you are the man I saw running.
FREDERICK WENSLEY (402 H). On 22nd October I was on duty in Whitechapel shortly after five—I saw both the prisoners hurrying along Leman Street from the direction of High Street—from information the prosecutor gave me I went in search of the prisoners—I was unable to find them then—at half-past seven I was with another constable, in plain clothes, and at 10.20 we apprehended them—they were not together at the actual arrest, but they were before.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I apprehended Schennick at the end of High Street—they were not running, they were walking at a hurried pace.
By the COURT. They were then about seventy yards from where the robbery took place—I knew them both well, and have seen them frequently together.
HENRY RICHARDSON (22 H). I was with Wensley—I arrested Schennick—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I know both prisoners by sight; I have seen them together on different occasions during the last month.
GUILTY . Schennick then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on 21st July, 1890, at Clerkenwell; and Hammerman on 9th November, 1885, at Clerkenwell. Other convictions were proved against them.
SCHENNICK— Five Years' Penal Servitude, and twenty strokes with the Cat ;HAMMERMAN— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 23rd, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
52. HARRY MEEKING (20), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining cheques for £10 from Arthur Edmund Bramston; and cheques for £50 and £40, and a post-office order for £10, from Jackson Marshall by false pretences. judgement respited.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WALLACK Prosecuted, and MR. LAWLESS Defended Clark.
ROBERT WHITE CARTER . I am a retired police officer, and an officer of the London School Board—I live in Harrisson Street, Gray's Inn Road—on October 29th, about 8 p.m., I saw White and Carroll at the corner of Sidmouth Street and Seaford Street—I passed them and heard steps—they passed me, and I met Clark and a man not in custody—they hustled
me, and Carroll took my watch-chain and hit me a blow—I went down and Clark fell on top of me—I shouted, and a boy came, named Jacks—I went to the station and identified Clark and White—I have known Clark from a boy; dress him as you like, even as a woman, and I can swear to him, and I know the other two to be companions of his—I picked them out at the Police-court—in a few minutes Carroll was apprehended, and I swore to him—I am a pensioner—there was a light in the street.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I have known Clark from a baby in long clothes—I know him as well as I know my own son, and he speaks in a peculiar way—I have spoken to him hundreds of times, and he knew me—the two men who passed me were the other two prisoners—Seaford Street is very short, and I was assaulted not half-way down it—there is a public-house in the street, and a lamp—if they had put Clark with a thousand others I should have known him—I was taken home by my son and daughter; I could not walk—I took out the very watch I thought was stolen, and it was 8.5.
Cross-examined by Carroll. When I went to the station there was another man with a peculiar eye—I went up to him and said, "No, that is not the man," and then I picked you out.
Cross-examined by White. I swear positively you are the man—your countenance was enough when you saw me.
WALTER CHARLES JACKS . I live in Gray's Inn Road, and go to school—on the night of October 29th I saw Mr. Carter—three men were behind him, and Clark was on him—I have seen him in the streets, and I picked him out at the station without any hesitation—Carroll was standing close by Mr. Carter, but I did not see him do anything to him—I picked him out at the station, and White also—I saw the three run away from Sidmouth Street.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. It was not rather dark, it was near a lamp—there are three lamps in the street, as near as I can tell—when I ran across they ran away—the whole thing was the work of a few seconds—I saw Clark some months ago, and I knew him and picked him out at once.
ALFRED NICHOLLS (Detective Sergeant E). I was informed of this case' on the Monday about 10.30 p.m., and on the Wednesday, about two o'clock, I was on duty with Goss in Gray's Inn Road, and saw Clark, White, and a man not in custody, on Prospect Terrace—I said, "I shall take you three men in custody on suspicion of assaulting and robbing a man at Seaford Street, last Monday night"—Clark said, "I can prove where I was; I went to the Eden Music Hall at a quarter to nine"—the third man was not identified, and was liberated—Jacks went to the station, and identified Clark immediately—after Clark was charged, he said, "It was the boss eyed man who knocked him down"—on the same evening about 10.30 I saw Carroll—he said, "I heard you were looking for me, Mr. Nicholls, so I thought I would give myself up"—he was placed with other men, one of whom was similarly afflicted in his eye, and the prosecutor and Jacks both picked him out.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Carter had given a description of a man with a queer eye, but Clark had no means of knowing he had told me that—Carter did not say, while the charge was being taken, that he had been knocked down by a man with a boss eye—he told me that at his house.
RICHARD GOSS (291 E). On the night of October 31st I was with a detective sergeant, and arrested White and Clark—at the station White said, "I shall try and get out of this; I was at the British Museum from 7.15 that night"—Carter identified them both, and Jacks identified Clark.
Evidence for the Defence.
MRS. HULTH. I am Clark's sister, and live at 26, Weddington Street, Kentish Town, which is ten minutes or a quarter of an hour's walk from Seaford Street—I saw Clark on Monday, October 29th—we started in a trap at 10.15 with my son and daughter, and went to Feltham Industrial School; I had a boy there—we hired the trap from Mr. Samuel, a jobmaster—we got there at two o'clock, and got home again at 8.15,. when Clark and my son took the trap away to take it to the jobmaster—they were away about twenty minutes, and came back without the horse and trap, and my brother bid me good-night about 8.40—he was arrested on the Wednesday evening.
Cross-examined. We had nothing to drink when we got home—my brother was with me two or three minutes—the jobmaster's is about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes' walk from my house—it would take them ten minutes to drive there; it is in the direction of Seaford Road—I have a clock on the mantelpiece—I was undressing the baby when my brother and son took the trap home—it was not at a quarter to eight—we were three hours and a half going to Feltham; we stopped twice on the road—we went back at five o'clock, and called twice at public-houses going home—it is ten miles from my place to the Home—my brother could not have been at the Eden Music Hall, Long Acre, at a quarter to nine; it was 8.40 when he left my house—I never proved an alibi before.
By the COURT. I heard the clock strike eight when we were in Park Street, coming home—I went to Clerkenwell, but did not give evidence—I did not hear the Magistrate ask Clark if he wished to call witnesses—I did not hear Nicholls' evidence, I was not there on the first day—if Clark said, "I can prove where I was. I went to the Eden Music Hall; I was there at a quarter to nine," that must be incorrect—I have been married twice—Mr. Ricketts, our solicitor, said at the Police-court that Clark would be called on for his defence at another place.
WILLIAM SARJEANT . I am a son of the last witness—I went to Feltham on this day to see my young brother—I am not certain what time we got back, but me and my uncle took the trap to the livery stable in Bartholomew Road, a turning out of Islip Street, that is about two miles from Seaford Street, St. Pancras—we saw Holt, the horsekeeper, there, and put up the trap, and the three of us had a drink at the Garibaldi tavern, and then we went back and bade my mother good night, and then we went and had another drink and went to the Eden Palace of Varieties—it was past twelve when we got there, we asked the time because we wanted to know whether the boxing was over, and it was not over—we stayed till 1.20, and he saw me on a 'bus at Charing Cross.
Cross-examined. Clark and I are great friends; he is very little older than I—I know the time we came home because a lady next door was minding my mother's keys, and she gave them out at the window, and my mother went in and laid the baby on the bed, and I looked at the clock
and it was 8.15—the baby was with us all day—I have seen Clark since he has been in prison, and asked him about the case.
By the COURT. I did not know that Carter said that this was at eight o'clock—I was very much astonished at my brother being locked up when I had been with him all day—I live with my mother, and am a good deal at home of an evening—I have spoken to my mother about the time we returned home—I have also talked to my sister and to Holt—it is possible that my uncle may have been at the Eden Music Hall that night—I was not near Seaford Street that night; 140 not know Jacks—I have heard that Carter says there was a fourth man, who got away—I do not know whether my brother is under restraint at Feltham; we have to give a number every time we go—they take down in a book the names of persons who visit the house, but he did not take Clark's name—he said, "How many are there?"—I said, "Four"—he said, "I don't count the child"—Clark did not stop outside—there were two more little ones—the officer did not say that there were too many of us—he did not take Clark's name—we only said that it was a brother and sister.
Re-examined. I believe no names were given to the officer—he said, "Who do you want to see?" and we told him, and gave a number—he does not ask every member of the party their names—he allowed us to go in on this occasion, because we had not been there for three months.
ANNA SERJEANT. I am a daughter of Mrs. Hulth—I went to Feltham on October 29th; Clark was with us—we got back at 8.15—there was a clock on the mantelpiece—Mrs. Cox, the next-door neighbour, was keeping the keys—they took the trap home, and came back at 8.40, and then left.
Cross-examined. My mother told me that my brother had been taken for acting violently to a gentleman, and I should have to go up as a witness—she did not tell me what time we came home; I Knew that because I had to go back to my place—I have been in service two months—I have a day off every month—my mother told me to tell the truth—they asked if I remembered the time we came home—I left home at five minutes to nine, and I had to be back at my place at nine—my brother and Clark went away with the trap, and came back—it would take them five minutes—if my mother says it was a quarter of an hour that is not correct—I was in the Police-court—I did not hear the Magistrate ask if the prisoners had any witnesses—I am still in the same service.
MRS. COX. I live next door to Mrs. Hulth—they left the keys with me that morning, and when they came home at night, at 8.15, I threw them out at the window—I saw Clark in the trap, and the mother, son and daughter.
Cross-examined. I said nothing to Clark that night—I fix the time because I looked at the clock—I said, "Have you had a good day?" and they said, "Yes, we have"—I have never spoken to them about it since—I was not at the Police-court—Mrs. Hulth asked me what time I threw the keys out, and I said about half-past eight—her son did not speak to me about the case.
By the COURT. I know they went to Feltham on October 29th because she was confined on the last day of September, and she was only just able to go—they had to go that day because it was visiting day.
Town, about half a mile from where Mrs. Hulth lives—on October 29th I let out a trap, and Mr. Serjeant and the prisoner Clark brought it home about 8.25 p.m.—Mrs. Hulth's house is nearer to Seaford Street than mine—after they returned the trap we went and had a drink of beer, and I saw no more of them.
Cross-examined. When we let out anything on contract we book it, but a job like this we only put on a slate, and rub it off again—I did so that night—I daresay the governor entered it indoors—I did not speak to Clark's sister to-day about this case, or to the son or daughter, only to Hay that I was the next one to come in—they did not Ray what evidence they gave—I know it was 8.25 when the trap came in, because we time it in and time it out, and I looked at the clock—we were in the public-house five or six minutes—it would take a young man like Clark ten minutes to walk to his aunt's house—Mrs. Hulth did not tell me she got home at 8.15.
By the COURT. They were with me six or seven minutes, not including the time we had the beer—I took the pony out—it took about ten minutes altogether, not a quarter of an hour—I am not a friend of Clark's; I never saw him before.
ELLEN GROGAN . Carroll is my brother—I live at 3, Berry Streets Grays Inn Road, about five minutes' walk from Seaford Street—he came in about 7.30 on October 29th, and stayed at home till 9.30, and then left.
By the COURT. I have nothing particular to fix the time—I have no clock—I heard the clock strike seven and eight—he had been in about twenty minutes then; I cannot be certain—he does not always live with me, but when he has no work I give him the money for his lodging.
Carroll's defence. I went indoors about 7.30. My sister said, "There is your tea there" I sat in my chair and went off to sleep; my sister shook me, and I said, "I must get home now, what is the time?" She said, "Twenty minutes to ten." When I heard of the robbery I went to the station and said, "I hear you have been inquiring for me about a robbery which I know nothing about." My eye cannot be noticed much in the daytime.
A. NICHOLLS (Re-examined.) Carroll was taken to the station, and when I saw him he said he heard I was looking for him, and he thought he had better give himself up.
White's defence. On October 29th Nicholls came up to me and another man and said, "I shall charge you on suspicion of highway robbery." I told him I knew nothing about it. I am quite innocent.
CLARK and WHITE— GUILTY of robbery only. Clark then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on February 10th, 1894, and four other convictions were proved against him. CARROLL**†— GUILTY of robbery with violence. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on November 10th, 1892— Twelve Months' Hard Labour and Twenty strokes with the Cat. CLARK— One Year and Eight Months' Hard Labour. WHITE— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
The COMMON SERJEANT directed an award of £1 to Jacks.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 26th, 1894.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. WILLS Defended Roberts. No evidence was offered against MITCHELL.— NOT GUILTY .
FREDERICK FOSS . I am a solicitor, in partnership with Mr. Ledsam at 3, Abchurch Lane—we act for Nicholson and Son and J. D. Watson and Co.—both are wine and spirit merchants—in 1893 we acted for them both in respect to a proposed loan to Mrs. Roberts—we had absolute authority to make a loan as we chose, subject to the first reporting—letters passed, and then I saw Mrs. Roberts—she was described to us as about to take a club in Paternoster Row—she wanted £150—there were further negotiations, and then this agreement was drawn up—it purports to be executed by Mrs. Roberts. (This was dated October 31st, 1893, between Elizabeth Roberts, and George Nicholson and J. D. Watson, the two latter agreeing to lend £150 to the former on the security of the eleven years' lease of premises at Paternoster Row, to be repaid in four quarterly payments, with £5 per cent, interest. Two receipts for £75 each were also produced, signed ELIZABETH ROBERTS)—I saw Mrs. Roberts twice at my office with a man who she said was the secretary of the proposed club—she did not mention his name—Mr. Edward P. Trotman, who witnesses her signature, was the solicitor acting in the matter—I wrote this letter to him. (Requesting to be informed of Mrs. Roberts' name, and that of her husband, who had recently died, and whether she was able to carry on a club; whether her furniture had been paid for, and asking for an epitome of the lease)—this is their reply. (Stating that Mrs. Roberts was the sister-in-law of Roberts, the billiard champion, referring to Leggatt and Co., of Cheap side, and Dean and Co., of Falcon Square, and stating the lease had eleven years to run.)—I believe those letters were written before I saw Mrs. Roberts at all—she called soon after the letter of October 18th—I relied on the statements in Mr. Trotman's letter—I never saw her without the secretary—she either produced this receipt or sent it to me. (Dated September 12th 1893, for £100 for work to be done at 59, Paternoster Row, on contract For £150—C. SMITH.)—I believed that to be a genuine receipt, and that it truly recorded the fact that Mrs. Roberts had paid £100; and on November 4th, 1893, this cheque for £75 to Mrs. Roberts or order was drawn by my partner by my directions—it is endorsed by Mrs. Roberts, and has been paid by our link, and on November 11th my partner drew a cheque for £72 8s., payable to Mrs. Roberts or bearer, which was given to Mr. Hurd, the clerk.
Cross-examined. I got Mr. Trotman's name either from a message sent to me by Mrs. Roberts or given to my clerk—up to the time the letter was written I had not seen her, and she could not have made any representation to me—I knew that the club was not open, and I mentioned the security of the lease, and said, "Although the furniture has been paid for"; that was all I wanted—I wanted also to be satisfied that money had been paid for the furniture—I believe it has not been paid
for—there was one thing in Mr. Trotman's letter which I did not like, which caused me to ask for the receipt for the repairs; that was not about the furniture—I did not reply to the two references given to me; I was satisfied with the solicitor's reference—I should not have been satisfied with an abstract of title, I should have investigated it—if I was acting for a client I should examine the original deed—I know that the club was opened afterwards—Mrs. Roberts got behind in her payments, and was made bankrupt by my client under my advice—the Registrar went into the question of damages, and gave him £20, but before that she summoned a meeting of her creditors and said that she was insolvent—he was made bankrupt about April this year—this receipt was not sent to me by post, I believe it was handed to me, because everything sent me by post I put on it, "Received so-and-so"—I got the lease from Mr. Trotman—it was not sent by post; I believe it was sent in the ordinary way to Mr. Trotman's office; that would be the ordinary custom.
ERNEST WILLIAM HURD . I am a solicitor, and act as clerk for Messrs. Foss and Ledsam—on November 11th, 1893, I received a cheque for £72 8s., and cashed it by the direction of the firm, and handed it to Mrs. Roberts, who signed a receipt and a written agreement in my presence.
WILLIAM BLAGRAVE SNELL . I am one of the shorthand writers to the Bankruptcy Court—I took notes of Mrs. Roberts's public examination on 2nd October, this year, and have made a transcript of them, which is on the file, and is correct, but it is not here—I have my original notes here. (Portions of a copy of the transcript were here read, the witness following the reading by his notes.)
The prisoner Harding. I admit writing the receipt of December 12th signature and all; it was against bills drawn on Mrs. Roberts by a Mr. Smith, and accepted by her, and Mr. Smith took them away and discounted them, and they went to him about some differences on the building account.
CHARLES SMITH . I am a builder, of 30, Mayall Road, Herne Hill—this is one of my printed billheads—I knew Harding at the club, 59A, Paternoster Row—he told me he was the secretary—I have seen Mrs. Roberts there; she told me she was going to open a club there—I went there to tender for the fittings, and entered into an agreement with Mitchell—I believe he was going to be the manager—the agreement was handed to Mrs. Roberts; it was dated about the beginning of September last year—the contract was for £183—I began to do the work on September 12th, and went on working till, I think, the last week in November, when it was nearly finished, but as I could not get any money I withdrew my men—Mitchell, Mrs. Roberts, and Harding gave directions as to the work—this receipt is not written by me or by my authority—I never saw it until I was at the Bankruptcy Court in October this year—I did not receive £100 or bills from Mrs. Roberts on 13th September, 1893—that was the day I commenced.
Cross-examined. I drew these two bills for £25 on Mrs. Roberts and one for £50 (produced) because I could not get any money—the £25 bills were both dishonoured—this bill for £15 was also given and cancelled—I received exactly £100 in bils from Mrs. Roberts, but I gave them back to her three or four days afterwards, and she promised to tear them up, as I could not do with them—a friend discounted two for £25—
I received one of them about September 21st; it was a one month's bill—it was dishonoured and renewed, and dishonoured again and renewed again; and Mrs. Roberts paid £10 off of it, which is all I ever got—the next was about a fortnight afterwards; I discounted it, and it was twice dishonoured—I never received any of it—a man named Fairman discounted them—he has not proved in the bankruptcy because I have paid part of them, I have not been able to pay the whole—they were all given before September 12th—the £50 bill was returned—I thought it possible I might be able to discount them, so that I could go on with the work—I tried—one was dated October, 1893; it was returned two or three days afterwards—the bill for £15 was after the date on the receipt—I commenced work on September 12th—I have known Mitchell two or three years, but only by doing some work where he was at work—I do not know where he lived; I met him quite casually in Cheapside—I had not met him for two years—he said that Mrs. Roberts was about opening a club, and I had better see her—I knew her because I worked for her father-in-law—that was not when I gave him the billhead; I gave it to him about a week after I commenced the job—he asked me for a billhead with my address after the written agreement—my place of business is 30, Mayall Road, S.E.—I only frequented the club to do work—Mitchell was the billiard marker—I did not hear that the club was going to be closed, and that Mrs. Roberts was going to open one of her own—I know William Ellis; he lives at Lough-borough Park—I did not know him till I met him at the club—I did not tell him I had £100 to £150 worth of bills paid me for work done—showed him a £50 bill of October 29th, and asked him if he knew where I could get it discounted, and to try to do it, and said I had taken it on account of my work done—the work was nearly finished, and they were beginning to furnish the place—I was there nearly every day that the work was on. (Mee was here brought into Court)—I know that man as being at the club, and that man (Blakesley) was one of the door-keepers, and I know that man (Guering), but I know none of them by their names—I am certain, the billhead was given before October 12th—I never gave but one, and that was at the beginning of the job—it is not true that I was at the club when Harding wrote out this receipt—I saw it on a billhead when it was filled in, and did not see it again till I saw it at the Bankruptcy Court—I had heard of its existence—I heard that there was a receipt, but I could not prove it—I heard it from Mr. Ellis some time in November—I did not speak to either of the two defendants about it—I wanted to know the facts of the case—on a Saturday in November I had a row with Harding at the club, and he threatened to throw me downstairs—I did not say that he had better be careful what he said, or I would put him away for forgery—he wanted to throw me downstairs because I wanted some money to pay my men on the Saturday, and he said I should not have any—I had men there at one o'clock in the day, and I should have paid them at twelve—I do not know Mrs. Rosenthal by name, I might know her by sight—I did not tell her after the row that Harding had better be careful or I would put him away for forgery—I have never used any threat against Harding to my knowledge—I don't know who bought the stamp for the receipt—I did not give Guering a penny on October 12th to go out and fetch a receipt stamp—I
was not present when the receipt was made—I think Steward called once or twice at my house in November—he also came on September 26th, not with Mitchell, but with a young man who lodged with Mitchell—he came on the Sunday morning, September 26th or 27th, to borrow 5s. for Mitchell to get his dinner, which I lent him—it was Mitchell who wanted the 5s., and he got it, and about a week afterwards Mitchell asked for a billhead—he did not ask me to sign a receipt—their is no truth in the story that I told Harding to sign it—I never gave Mrs. Roberts a receipt for any sum of money to my knowledge—if my story is true the only sum I received up to November was £100 in bills—when I handed the £50 bill back to Mrs. Roberts she did not give me £50 for it—I never received a penny of it—I can give you an account of all the money—about November 20th Mrs. Roberts paid me £12 10s. in money in part payment of my contract, and a further £15 was paid, I think, a week before that, making in all £27 10s.—£10 was paid by Captain Rice, on a sheet of blank paper, on the Macclesfield Bank, which was dishonoured, and the man who changed it for me nearly lost his situation through it, because he could not get the money—I never received the £50 bill.
Cross-examined by Harding. I have no grudge against you—you never paid me anything—I received in hard cash a little over £35; say £40—I keep books, and put down the payments I made—I got sundry payments at the finish; they amounted altogether to £62 10s., including £10 paid on the £25 bill—Mrs. Roberts had to pay my friend who discounted the bill—I saw Mr. Ellis about the £50 bill, and he told me that there was such a receipt—I did not sanction your signing my name to that receipt; my brother-in-law, Mr. Hill, went to Messrs. Foss and Ledsam.
By the COURT. I knew that Mrs. Roberts was desirous of obtaining a loan on the lease of the premises, while I was going on with the work—I think they tried two or three people—I did not: go into Foss and Ledsam's office, I went outside to meet Mrs. Roberts—she did not tell me she had given the receipt written out by Harding by my authority—Mr. Hill is a public-house broker—I think introducing Mrs. Roberts to Messrs. Foss and Ledsam was suggested by Mitchell—I believe she heard of them through Mitchell.
By Harding. I believe Mr. Hill met Mrs. Roberts there—I do not think I was present at anything—I introduced Mr. Hill, but the business did not concern me—I was not present at the interviews—I was never told that Foss and Ledsam required a receipt to be given for the payment, either by Hill or by anybody else—I have frequently heard of Mr. Trotman when I have been on the job, but I never saw him till I was at the Mansion House—I never heard that he wrote to Foss and Ledsam, "Mrs. Roberts has a lease, with eleven years to run," etc.—I never had any knowledge of that—I brought an action against Mrs. Roberts in the High Court, and hold a judgment for £250 odd—the estimate is signed by me—I evidently sent a letter with it; Mrs. Roberts produced it at the Court on the trial—I always sign or send a note, and put my name under that—if I did not sign it I sent a letter—after the quarrel, when you are supposed to have threatened to throw me downstairs, I did not threaten you in any way, but I told Mrs. Roberts that if you had
anything more to do with the job I should withdraw my men—I do not pay my men in a public-house, unless it is two or three who were not there at the time—I remember you changing a £10 note at a public-house; all my men were there, but they went back to the job because we had not locked the place up—I have not said that I had the power to "put you away"—if I could have proved that this document was in existence I should not have gone to work at the Law Courts—I began my action in February or March this year—I had not seen the receipt, but I had heard of it from you—it was not produced when I sued Mrs. Roberts in the High Court—she did not let judgment go by default; she and Mitchell and you defended it, and it was referred to arbitration—they counter-claimed against me that I had not finished the work—they never proved a receipt or suggested that I had given a receipt on September 12th or October 12th—the amount paid off was £62 10s.—though I heard of the forgery I took no steps—I had not heard that the receipts had been handed to Foss and Ledsam, or that it formed part of the consideration for the advance of money by them—I never gave any receipts, but you distinctly put it down in your book, and Mrs. Roberts positively denied at the Law Courts that she kept any books.
By the COURT. At the time of payment Harding always entered them in a book kept by him—I did not initial the book, but he totalled it up.
Re-examined. I may have given billheads to other people, but I do no remember it—£52 10s. and £10 are the only amounts I received—I stated that at the arbitration, and the award was after deducting £62 10s.—there were £185 costs on the claims and counterclaim—£183 was due before anything was paid, but there was extra work which was done and charged for—Mrs. Roberts disputed my claim, and caused me to go to a surveyor and have the thing measured fairly—he deducted my £62 10s., and gave me credit for it in my claim, which I which was for £185, which I got, and costs on the claim and counterclaim—I received two of the £25 bills before October 18th, but no cash up to the last day of October—the sundry payments were in November—I only know Blakesley and Mee as Ernest and George, and another as Charley—I have had no business transactions with them—I do not know them as members of the club, only coming I and out—I only know Guering as going in and out with Mitchell—he was not an official of the club—Captain Rice's cheque was given in November—one of the men went out and fetched a stamp for it; I think it was Guering—they were all there—Mrs. Roberts said she was going to get cheques from two or three people—that was on the same day that I got some money—she did not tell me she had got the money which she was going to raise on the security of the lease, but she paid me £15.
FREDERICK DOWNS (City Police Inspector). Inspector Cross and I arrested Mrs. Roberts in Clapham Road—we went to Kenyon Road, Clapham, and read the warrant in Harding's presence; it was for forgery and fraud—Harding said, "You had better get those bills"—he had been arrested by Inspector Cross and taken back to 39, Kenyon Road—I believe they were living together there—I went upstairs with her, and she took these three bills from a table; I took possession of them—when we came down she said, "What is all this about?"—I took them to the station.
Harding in the Clapham Road, and said, "Your name is Somerville?" he said, "Yes"—at that moment Downs came across the road, and said, "We have a warrant for your arrest"—he said, "Let me go back to Mrs. Roberts"—we went to Kenyon Road—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I can't see where the conspiracy comes in, unless it is in writing that letter to Foss"—I did not know anything about any letter.
Evidence for Harding.
MR. MEE. I live at 76, Maitland Park Road, Haverstock Hill, and am clerk to Mr. George Clapton, a surveyor—when I was out of employment I was a servant at this club, and was there almost every day and most part of the day from September to March—I have seen Mr. Smith quite fifty times—he was repeatedly at the club during the repairs—I took messages to him from Mrs. Roberts on many occasions—I cannot remember being present when a receipt was handed to Harding, but I remember seeing him with a billhead of Mr. Smith's in his hand—there was no writing on it then nor did I see any put on it—that was about the beginning of October—I did not see Mr. Smith hand it to the prisoner, but he was in the room—I know that Mr. Smith received bills from Mrs. Roberts at that time; he told me so, and Harding told me so—one morning about seven o'clock Harding and Mr. Smith had some words about the repairs, and he came up and said, "If Harding is not very careful what he is doing I shall have him up for forgery"—I know that the club was started—it is a respectable club—Blakesley and Mitchell were present, and I think Mrs. Roberts.
By the COURT. I did not see Harding write out this receipt, and Mr. Smith send a boy and authorise him to do it.
GEORGE BLAKESLEY . I live at East Dulwich—I am out of employment—in October, 1893, I was hall-porter at 59A, Paternoster Row—I do not remember seeing Mr. Smith and Harding there with a billhead of his—Mr. Smith said nothing to me about it.
CHARLES GUERING . I am a waiter at 34, Netherwood Road, Shepherd's Bush—at the end of September, 1893, I was at 59A, Paternoster Row, about noon; Smith and Harding were there, and I think Blakesley, Mitchell, and Mee were in the room at the other side—Harding was writing out a bill on white paper; I don't know what it was—I did not hear what they said—Mr. Smith asked me to go for a stamp, and gave me a penny—they both called me towards thorn, and when they had finished I was sent out for some beer, which I brought back in a tin, and some bread and cheese—it was on a billhead, I am sure, but I did not notice the name—I could see it, but could not see what the words were on it.
Cross-examined. I was sent for bill stamps on other occasions, not penny stamps.
Harding, in his defence, stated that he was not a party to the fraud; that Mrs. Roberts obtained a loan, and furnished the house with the money, and tried to raise more to take out a license, for which purpose Mr. Smith introduced his brother-in-law, Hill, a public-house broker; that Mrs. Roberts told him the result of her interview with Mr. Watson, and he embodied the facts in a letter to Messrs. Foss and Ledsam, asking for a loan of £150 on the lease, but never went to them. He admitted writing the receipt, and stated that he signed it with Mr. Smith's authority, not thinking that
Mr. Smith would deny it, and that he did not attempt to imitate Mr. Smiths writing, who handed him the billhead; he stated that if the bills had been met, Mrs. Roberts would have been able to pay, and that there was no attempt at fraud by him or by Mrs. Roberts.
C. SMITH (Re-examined). I did not say to Mrs. Roberts that I did not mind the fraudulent receipt being drawn up, but that I would not sign it, or that I did not mind someone signing my name on a receipt stamp—I should not think of such a thing.
GUILTY .— ROBERTS recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Discharged on recognisances. HARDING— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 26th, 1894, and four following days.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
THOMAS PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. C. F. GILL, HORACE AVORY, and GUY STEPHENSON Prosecuted, and MR. ROLLAND Defended Jaquess.
PHILIP WITHAM . I am a member of the firm of Ward, Williams, Witham, and Lambert, 1, Grays Inn Square, solicitors—our firm acted for the defendants in an action that was brought in the name of Dow Hagar Lawrence against Lord Norreys—Lord Norreys was the first defendant; another was added afterwards—the action was commenced on 9th June, 1886, by writ. (The writ stated that the action was brought to claim the Towneley estate, and was issued by Howell Thomas, 40, Chancery Lane, solicitor for the plaintiff)—the statement of claim in that action was delivered on 12th July, 1886, by Thomas—it alleged that the plaintif was entitled, as heir-at-law, to these estates—that was the substance of it—no fraud was pleaded—on the face of the claim the Statute of Limitation would appear to be an answer—on the 21st October Lord Abingdon was added as a defendant in the suit, and on the 29th October 1886, I took out a summons at Chambers to strike out the statement of claim, on the ground that it disclosed no cause of action, and that the action was shown to be frivolous and vexatious—that summons was referred to the judges, and by them to the Divisional Court—while that decision was pending, on the 22nd November I took out a summons for leave to amend that statement of claim—that was referred to the Court, and both were to come on together—on 6th December, 1886, that amended statement of claim was delivered to me—it alleged a fraud, which, it was suggested, would be an answer to the Statute of Limitation—the two applications, namely, the application to strike out the claim, and the amendment, came before the Divisional Court, consisting of the late Lord Chief Justice and Mr. Justice Day, and judgment was given on the 24th of June, 1887, deciding that the action was frivolous and vexatious, and refusing leave to amend—after that, on the 29th November, 1887, a fresh action was commenced in the Chancery Division
before Mr. Justice Stirling—it was substantially the same as the other; it was brought by the same solicitor, Howell Thomas—the address of the plaintiff here given is Alexandra Hotel, Hyde Park Corner—the claim in that action was delivered on 14th March, 1888—it alleged the same fraud in substance as that alleged on the proposed amended statement of claim—on 23rd March, 1888, I took out a summons to strike out that statement of claim, on the same ground as the previous one, on the ground that it disclosed no reasonable cause of action, and was frivolous and vexatious—the defendant Jaquess made an affidavit resisting that application.
ROBERT CUNLIFFE . I am a solicitor and a Commissioner for Oaths—this affidavit was sworn before me on 15th May, 1888, by a person who signed it as it now appears—I do not recognise the individual—I do not know the handwriting of Mr. Jaquess.
MR. WITHAM (continued). Mr. Justice Stirling, on the materials before him, refused to strike out the statement of claim—on behalf of the defendants I appealed to the Court of Appeal, and on 15th June 1888, the Court of Appeal, consisting of Lords Justices Cotton, Bowen, and Fry, gave judgment, dismissing the action as frivolous and vexatious, reversing the decision of Mr. Justice Stirling—thereupon the plaintiff appealed from the Court of Appeal to the House of Lords—this book of the House of Lords was used on that appeal—it does not contain their lordships' judgment, but the House of Lords affirmed the judgment of the Court of Appeal on 22nd April, 1890—I acted as solicitor for all the defendants in the action: at the first stage of the proceedings I did not represent Lord Abingdon and Lord Norreys, they were represented by their own lawyers, but eventually they left it to me—the costs of the defendants have been paid—the amount paid to me in all this litigation was £679 7s. 1d.—there were other costs paid to Messrs. Markby and Co. and Norton and Co., who represented other parties, amounting to about £200—I think £1,000 would cover all the costs which the plaintiffs had to pay to the defendants—the value of the property in question is between £60,000 and £70,000 a year—acting as solicitor for the defendants throughout the whole course of this litigation, no suggestion of a compromise was ever made to me, or ever came to my knowledge—I never heard of any suggestion of compromise—there is no truth in the suggestion contained in the letter of 11th August, 1887, that the defendants had offered to forego their right to the estates if the plaintiffs would undertake not to appeal or to bring a fresh action—I know Colonel Jaquess by sight—I recognise him as the person who was acting for the plaintiff in the action—I always saw him in Court—I never spoke to him—I never spoke to him or Thomas, who was then acting as solicitor for the plaintiff—I recognise him as the Howell Thomas who was solicitor for the plaintiff—I never had an interview with him in which a compromise was discussed—we have spoken about this litigation—he said that he knew his client had no case at all, and he had told him so—I never at any time expressed myself satisfied that they had a complete case, or any case—I never showed the slightest sign of
giving in—there is absolutely no foundation for the assertion in the letter of Thomas, November 1st, 1886, that he had paid me the first instalment, and promised to hand me the balance to-morrow; it is an absolute fabrication—I know nothing of any alleged claim of December, 1885, to the Towneley estate remaining unsettled, or any decree made by the Court that Mary Towneley and her issue were the legal heirs to the estate—I have never heard of any accumulated funds lying at the Treasury waiting to be claimed, or of a sum of fourteen millions, or any sums.
Cross-examined. My predecessors acted as solicitors for the Towneley estate thirty years ago—the only person with whom I had any communication in the course of those proceedings was the defendant Thomas—had no communication, directly or indirectly, with Colonel Jaquess—Thomas was the only person I spoke to on the subject; he certainly told me that he did not believe in his case. (MR. ROLLAND put in an affidavit by Thomas of May 15th, 1888)—the litigation ended at the end of 1890 by a decision of the House of Lords—since that date no other action has been brought, nor any threat of further legal proceedings in the matter of this claim—the knowledge of this alleged compromise in November, 1886 and subsequent dates was first brought to me by a letter from Mr. Rolt, Colonel Jaquess's solicitor, on June 30th, 1892, to my firm.
EDWARD GARTHWAITE FARRISH . I am a solicitor, and a partner in the firm of Norton, Rose, Norton and Co.—we acted for Lady Alexander Gordon Lennox in the action brought by Lawrance against Lord Norreys in which she was made a defendant—Mr. Witham had conduct of the litigation on the part of all defendants—there was never any suggestion of a compromise on the part of my client throughout the litigation; such a matter was never broached in any way—£200 or some such sum was paid to my firm for costs.
ALFRED UPTON . I am Chancery clerk to Markby, Wyld, and Johnson, solicitors, of 9, New Square, who act as solicitors for Lady O'Hagan—she was brought in as a defendant in this action—until the matter was handed over to Mr. Witham to act for all the defendants I had conduct of the matter under my principals—no suggestion of a compromise cam to my notice—there is not the slighest foundation for the statement, so far as I know—something under £100 was paid to my firm for costs, believe; we did not take in Counsel.
MR. WITHAM (Re-examined). Lady Gordon Lennox and Lady O'Hagan were daughters of Charles Towneley, and Lord Norreys had married a third daughter, so that the three daughters were represented as defendants.
CHARLES GEORGE TIMS . I am a clerk in the central office at the Royal Courts of Justice—I produce the original affidavits of James Frasier Jaquess and Howell Thomas, which were used in the matter of Jaquess v. Thomas, in the litigation upon the question of delivering a bill of costs—I have not got the exhibits.
Cross-examined. I simply produce the documents which were filed; I know nothing beyond that—I also produce an affidavit of Mrs. Jaquess, and affidavits by Mr. Marrs—I have not got the exhibits to those.
me by Jaquess, and these exhibits, marked "J 1" to "J 73," were at that time exhibited to the affidavit.
CHARLES WILLIAM INMAN . I am a solicitor, and a Commissioner for Oaths, at 29, Ludgate Hill—this affidavit of 22nd December, 1892, was sworn before me by Howell Thomas—these exhibits, "J 1" to "H T 33," were exhibited with that affidavit—on 25th January, 1893, this affidavit was sworn before me by Jaquess, and these exhibits, "J 74, 75, and 76," were then produced—this affidavit was sworn before me by Jaquess on 28th April, 1893, and the exhibits "J 77" to "J 88" were produced a that time—among them were these three tables of pedigrees—on 10th June, 1893, Jaquess swore this other affidavit before me, and exhibit "J 89" was then produced—Jaquess swore this affidavit on 16th January, 1893, before me.
STEPHEN ADOLPHUS JONES . I am a solicitor, and a Commissioner for Oaths, at 19, Ludgate Hill—Thomas swore this affidavit before me on 28th February, 1893, and it was re-sworn before me—these exhibits, "H J 34" to "37," were then produced—he swore this other affidavit before me on 23rd March, 1893, with exhibits "H T 38" to "46."
JAMES DROVER BARNETT . I am one of the official shorthand writers of this Court—I was present on 28th June, when the defendant Colonel Jaquess was examined as a witness on the trial of Howell Thomas—I took a shorthand note of his evidence, and produce a transcript of the same; it is correct.
FREDERIC LEONARD CARTWRIGHT . I am a member of the Institute of Shorthand Writers, and am employed by Messrs. Barnett and Buckler, the shorthand writers to this Court—I took notes of the cross-examination and re-examination of the defendant Colonel Jaquess, when he was a witness in the case of Howell Thomas, on the 28th and 29th June—the transcript of those notes, produced, is correct.
WILLIAM ENOCH FRENCH . I am a member of the firm of William E French and Co., of 205, Main Street, Evansville, Indiana, U.S.—I first met the prisoner Jaquess in August, 1871, at Buffalo, New York. (MR. HOLLAND objected to the evidence of this witness, as it related to matters occurring some fifteen years before the earliest date of any act of conspiracy alleged in the indictment, and further that everything said and done between the witness and Jaquess took place in America, and was not subject to the jurisdiction of this Court. MR. GILL contended that the evidence was material, as showing the knowledge that Jaquess had with regard to the claim to the Towneley estates in 1871, and as bearing upon the subsequent condition of his mind in that matter. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS ruled that the evidence was admissible)—Jaquess's brother, an old partner of mine in the wholesale dry goods business, introduced me to Colonel Jaquess in a train in 1871—that was the first time I saw him—Colonel Jaquess told me he was agent for the recovery of the Towneley estates for the heirs, two brothers named Lawrance, living at Buffalo; that he had investigated the matter, that they were unquestionably the legal heirs to the estate, and that there were many millions pounds sterling (I don't remember how many) in the Bank of England waiting for the heirs, and that the Governors of the Bank of England had advertised for the heirs in America—he also gave
me this, which purported to be a genealogical tree of the Lawrance family—he said the estates were in Lancashire, that there was large real estate besides the money in the bank, that the heirs were quite old men and very poor, not able to prosecute the claim for the estates—Jonathan S Jaquess, the prisoner's eldest brother, in the colonel's presence, said to me that he had investigated the matter, and that there was no question of doubt of the correctness of the claim—I replied that I did not know Colonel Jaquess, but that I was willing to trust him, the brother, with a million in the wilderness—I had been his partner and knew him well, and had confidence in his integrity—Jonathan Jaquess said the two brothers Lawrance, for whom the colonel was managing the matter, had issued bonds, which they had signed, and that he had sold quite a number of them about New York and Boston at the rate of five cents on the dollar face value of the bond, but that the colonel had permitted him (Jonathan), to take a lot of the bonds at two cents on the dollar, and that as an old friend and partner he wanted me to invest in the bonds at the same price—I told them I would invest 500 dollars—before that he showed me the bonds and what was printed on the backs of them—I paid him 500 dollars in cash and he gave me these 25,000 dollars worth of bonds.
CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the bank-note department of the Bank of England—I produce thirty-two cancelled notes, one for £500, and three for £100, numbered 60303, 60304, and 60308, dated 13th April, 1889—those three notes were cashed over the counter at the Bank, 60304 on the 30th January, 1890, 60303 on 13th February, 1890, and 60,308 on 3rd March, 1890—the bank clerk would ask for the address of the person cashing the notes, and the address given was 3, Bloomsbury Street.
WILLIAM ENOCH FRENCH (continued). When the colonel showed in the bonds he called my attention to the statement on the back, which I read—I paid for the first lot of bonds that I took by a cheque for 500 dollars, on W. and J. Sloane, of New York, and he and his brother went with me—that cheque has since been destroyed—I applied to the house for it, and they wrote to me "Destroyed"—I was with Colonel Jaquess when he cashed the cheque—it was necessary for me to identify him because they did not know him—on that occasion I got three bonds for 1,500 dollars, two for 1,000, and one for 500—about ten days or two weeks after that, he and a Mr. Carr, an attorney from Buffalo, came to Evansville, a city on the river in some part of Indiana, and a meeting was held there—I was invited to attend, and I went—I heard the colonel speak; his brother Jonathan was there—the meeting was held in his office; perhaps twenty or thirty persons were present, among them several brothers of the colonel, and an uncle of his—the colonel spoke on the subject of the bonds—he said that they would unquestionably be collected—it was then said by someone in the meeting that they did not know Colonel Jaquess, but they had every confidence in Jonathan Jaquess—the colonel spoke at length—he was a good talker, and did a large amount of talking, and after that, I, in connection with a brother of mine, took some more bonds—the colonel did not want all the money down, but he wanted to know where he would get it in case of need—I and my brother took 125,000 each—I may say, however, that for my first lot of 500 bonds I paid the full amount at 2 per cent.; that would be a penny
a dollar—that would be a very good percentage if collected—one-fifth was to be paid in cash—he would take notes for the balance, to be paid into the hands of Jonathan Jaquess—we executed notes for the balance not only myself, but nearly all the parties there, fifteen or twenty, perhaps at the meeting—(the notes were not paid)—they were put into a tin box, and placed in the hands of Jonathan Jaquess, and he deposited them in a safety vault, with a contract from Mr. Jaquess, Colonel Jaquess, and Mr. Carr to be paid back—my contract is not here; it was lost—I have the notes—the contract was signed by Colonel Jaquess and Mr. Carr—I saw the contract—I had a hand in getting it up—I can tell you what the draft of it was—it began, "August 8th, 1871. Evansville, Indiana 5,000 dollars. On demand after date, I promise to pay to the order of L. G French 5,000 dollars, etc., with interest at 10 per cent, per annum"—on the back was, "Received 1,000 dollars, "signed," Carr and Jaquess agents," endorsed "French"—it was a joint note—it represented the 500 I paid him in Buffalo, and the other 500 my brother paid him, leaving 4,000—the 5,000 represented the price of 250,000 dollars—Mr. Carr fixed up the note for both—the colonel was doing the collecting,. Carr did the writing—the 125,000 included the 500 bond that I had already taken—the other people at the meeting took bonds on the same arrangement, everyone there; they had no hesitation in doing it—Jonathan Jaquess called on me twice after that, and collected small amounts—this book had been lying by for twenty years, and I never thought of the bonds till the officer called for them—here are two receipts which I had from Jonathan Jaquess; each is for sixty dollars—he is dead, and my brother also—his bonds and mine were all put together in my safe—I had forgotten all about them until the turned up when they were called for; I did not remember much about them—the money was to be collected when required for the litigation, provided the colonel and his friends satisfied them that everything was proceeding right—my brother's bonds came into my possession; these are them (Producing them)—they all bear the date, 28th August, when the arrangement was come to; they are all in the same form, with the same endorsement on the back—after that meeting I don't think I ever saw the colonel again at Evansville, but I was in New York with a friend Judge Dyer, of Evansville, and he told me that the colonel was in the city, and I told him if he saw him again to invite him to dinner at the Metropole Hotel; that was several years afterwards, about 1874,1 think—those dated the 17th August were what I first took, the next was on the 28th—the colonel did come and take dinner with us—I had some conversation with him on that occasion about the property; that was the object—we discussed the condition of the suit, and the fund, and what he had done—Judge Dyer also had a lot of bonds; we took them from anybody—think he had 50,000 of bonds—the colonel said that the prospect of recovering the estate was safe, first class, and they were doing everything in the world to accomplish that end, a little of which we believed, we discounted it; we were suspicious—after that dinner I never saw him again till I saw him in the dock at Bow Street—after 1874 he never informed me how the litigation was going on, not directly—he wrote to his brother repeatedly—Jonathan Jaquess died six or eight years ago—I came over from America with three other gentlemen, representing bond
holders—they have gone back, and I am here to tell what I know about it.
Cross-examined. I never saw a notice in the New York Times or the Sun on 4th July this year, stating that the Public Prosecutor had invited subscribers to the fund to give evidence—I never heard of it—those are papers of a large circulation, well known in America, better known in New York society—we live 1,000 miles west—I am the only person from America who is here to give evidence to-day by order of the Court; the other three were sent back—I am not aware that nearly all the subscribers to the fund for the purpose of conducting this litigation have expressed themselves in an authenic declaration that they are perfectly satisfied, and pray for the release of Colonel Jaquess—I know nothing about it—I do not recognise the signatures; they are principally from New York, not from my part of the country—my first communication on the subject of this prosecution was from Mr. Gallagher, a representative of the Secret Service Department in America—he is not generally known as a detective—detectives are not generally known—he told me that they had been scouring the country to hunt up evidence against Colonel Jaquess to send over to this country—I don't think he used the word "scouring"—he first told me that Colonel Jaquess was in gaol in England and he was sent out to find evidence of parties who had received the bonds—he requested me to come over to this country, and paid my expenses for coming—I arrived here on the 29th September, and gave my evidence at Bow Street a day or two after—I knew Jonathan Jaquess well; he was my partner—it was he who introduced the subject to me—he expressed to me his belief in the matter of the bonds; he was a large holder of them—that applies to his other brother and to the uncle of the colonel—so far as I could see the colonel seemed to be perfectly honest in the matter—he showed me a slip of paper, it looked like a cutting from a newspaper, and said they had been advertising for heirs—I always found Jonathan Jaquess a perfectly honest and straightforward man, none better, and the colonel belonged to a good, honest, respectable family, most of them—he fought for his country in the American War, and with credit, too—none of these bonds are signed by Colonel Jaquess or Jonathan Jaquess; they had no right to sign them; they are signed by Carr and Lawrance; one of the Lawrence's was paralysed—they are signed by Jaziel Lawrance, and William F. Lawrance by power of attorney—all through the colonel spoke as simply an agent for the sale of these bonds—he did not give a receipt for the moneys we had paid; he gave us the bonds—the bonds I bought were for 25,000 dollars; I paid 500—it was not to Carr that I gave the cheque on Sloanes; it was given to the colonel, because he took it to New York with him, Q. Just let me remind you, is it not a fact that that cheque, if it was a cheque, was made payable by you to Carr? A. Well, it is twenty-three years ago; I can't say positively to that; it might have been; he was the cashier of the party—I know Mr. Sloanes's signature—this is W. J. Sloanes's signature; I wrote to them for the cheque, but they had not got it—since yesterday I received a letter from him, in reference to that very cheque—from this I am doubtful whether it was drawn in favour of Carr; it was not cashed by Carr, because he was not in New York to cash it—he may have endorsed it to Jaquess—I think probably it was made payable to Carr;.
I did not think so till I received this letter. Q. You regarded this as a kind of lottery, did you not? A. Well, in this sense, I did; I have learnt long since that any suit of law is a lottery, to a great extent—never heard of Sir William Collis, of Toronto, or Annis.
Re-examined. I live at Evansville; that is 1,000 miles from New York—Jonathan Jaquess lived at Evansville—in my opinion he was always a respectable man all his life—he had a large amount of these bonds at his death—I frequently saw him, and had conversation with him—he had nothing to do with making the claim or getting the claim up.
ANTHONY ANDERSON (Re-examined). I am chief book-keeper to Messrs. Brown, Shipley and Co., bankers, of Founders' Court, Lothbury—they have a house also in New York—the prisoner Jaquess first opened an account with Brown, Shipley and Co., at the Lothbury house, in December, 1879, with a circular letter of credit, the funds for which were received in London on 29th December—that account continued till 18th October, 1893. (MR. ROLLAND submitted that no evidence could be given as to anything that had happened anterior to 1st October, 1885, unless it could be shown to have some connection with the subsequent conspiracy. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS overruled the objection)—I produce a certified copy of the account from its commencement till its close—the total amount paid to the credit of the account during that time was £33,746 10s. 11d.—it was operated upon by the defendant Jaquess from its opening to its close—he gave authority to the bank in August, 1882, to honour the cheques of Mrs. Jaquess—here is his letter of August 23rd, 1882, telling us to put the account in the names of himself and his wife—we put it, "J. F. Jaquess and A. M. Jaquess," so that either or both might draw—the sums or by which the credit of £33,746,10s. 11d. was made up were: Cabled from America, £22,260 9s. 10d.; letters of credit, £1,614; mail transfers from America, £5,659 12s. 8d.; cash, £2,287 8s. 5d.; and bills, £1 925—the last credit of the account was £20 cabled from America on 26th August,. 1893—the last amount was drawn out by cheque for 12s. 7d.; a cheque for £20 had been paid on 29th August—this copy of the account shows the debits, and how the money has gradually been exhausted from the commencement down to the 12s. 7d.—in 1886 I find cheques drawn to H. Thomas—I find on November 16th, 1886, Thomas £1,000; 20th November, Thomas £1,000; November 30th, self £600; 7th December, Thomas £2,000; December 16th, self £2,000; January 10th, 1887, H. Thomas £600; January 18th, self £2,000; June 24th, cash (that is equivalent to "self") £1,500—I see through the account other cheques to self for £30, £20, £80, and so on—I find on January 21st, £120 to Brown, Shipley and Co.; that means a cheque drawn in favour of Brown, Shipley and Co. in London—the next cheque is for £210; it is "No. 1,325 B. B. and Co., Philadelphia, cable favour Mrs. Anna Jaquess"—that means we cabled to our house at Philadelphia £210—this is a cheque for £200 in favour of Howell Thomas—then come cheques to self £10, £10, and £20, a cable for Anna Jaquess £105, cheques for cash £20, cash £20, cash £10, self £10, self £25, self £55, cable Anna Jaquess £210 16s. 5d.; then comes £200, and then there is this cheque of 10th May for £1,100 to self—that is followed by a cable
to Anna Jaquess 500 dollars; a cheque for £100, cash £60, £60 and £40, a cheque for £50—I have taken out the cables to America in favour of Anna Jaquess, and they amount to £2,284—on July 13th, 1888, I find a debit of £617 for a cable to Anna Jaquess—in the first half of 1889 I find all the payments are to Anna Jaquess, to Thomas, and to self, with the exception of one to Robinson and one to Clark—about £2,200 was paid in that half-year to Mrs. Jaquess, Thomas and self—in the last half of 1889 I find about fifteen cheques drawn to self; one for £1,000 on 14th December and one for £240 on 3rd September, and a cheque to Thomas for £300 and a cable to Anna Jaquess £207 5s.; they represent altogether about £2,590—in the earlier part of 1890 I find a cable, and the rest of the debits are to self—in the latter part of 1890 there is one cable and two cheques to self—this cheque of 10th May, 1888, is drawn by James F. Jaquess to self for £1,100 on the cheque form No. 4811 of Brown, Shipley and Co.—on the counterfoil is, "Court expenses to H. Thomas £1,100"—in my opinion that counterfoil is in Jaquess's writing—we have an arrangement by which our cheques are accepted by us and paid by the London and Westminster Bank—on the back of the cheque is a memorandum, instructing the young man who went for the money to get a note for £500, five notes for £100 each, sixteen for £5 and £20 in gold—this is a direction in Jaquess's writing to cable 5,000 dollars to Anna Jaquess in Philadelphia, "Amount, 5,000 dollars; 2nd June 1888. By whom to be received: Anna Jaquess. Where to be received: B. Brothers, Philadelphia. Paid, James F. Jaquess"—there is a memorandum on the back,-the numbers of the notes, making up 5,000 dollars, which Jaquess paid to me for the cable—six £5 notes, 77477 to 77481 and 77483, dated 26th December, 1887; five £100 notes, 24618 to 24622, dated 16th August, 1887; and one for £500, 39537, dated 15th March, 1887—on 13th December, 1889, a cheque for £1,000 was drawn by James F. Jaquess to self or order, on form 10738—the entry on the counterfoil is "Fees and Court expenses" in Jaquess's writing—on 24th December we cabled £310 18s. 9d. to Mrs. Jaquess—that was authorised to be charged to Jaquess's account—I find on the credit side that we got from him on the same day these two notes of £100 each, Nos. 60311 and 60312—I see on these counterfoils "H. Thomas on account, £200"; "Expenses on account, £40"; "Expenses, £20"; "Peter Robinson, expenses, £30"; "Expenses case, etc., £130"; "Deposit in Court, H. Thomas, £800"; "Court and other expenses, £25"—these bonds are signed "William T. Laurance by his attorney, J. F. Jaquess" in Jaquess's writing.
Cross-examined. We have an house in New York and an agency in Philadelphia—we cable money for people from New York and Philadelphia to our London house—we act on the instructions of our American house as to paying anyone—our London house has no knowledge of the persons by whom these sums are paid to our New York house—a person might go to our New York house and give instructions to cable a sum over here—in cabling back from London to New York and Philadelphia our house would not know for what reason or purpose these sums were sent; only that a sum was sent, and the person to whom it was sent—we should act on these instructions so long as we got the equivalent instruclions, and it was from a person we knew, like Jaquess—I know
nothing about the sources of Colonel Jaquess's income—I know nothing of my own knowledge about the contributories in America—we had some information.
Re-examined. The account was ultimately closed, but we had information long before it was closed.
HERBERT JOHN STEWART . I am a clerk in the head office of the London and Westminster Bank, Lothbury—that bank cashes drafts on Brown, Shipley and Co.—we cashed this cheque of 10th May, 1888, over the counter by a £500 note, No. 39537; five £100 notes, Nos. 24618 to 21621; sixteen £5 notes, and £20 in gold—we cashed this cheque for £1,000 of 13th December, 1889, over the counter by ten £100 notes, 60303 to 60312.
JOHN NOLAN (Detective Sergeant, Scotland Yard). On 2nd July, 1894, I arrested Jaquess at 5.45 p.m.—I said, "I am a police officer, and shall arrest you for conspiring with one Howell Thomas, now in custody, to defraud certain persons in America"—he replied, "Indeed"—I conveyed him to Bow Street Police-station, where he was charged—nothing further was said—on 17th July, at the Police court, Howell Thomas was brought up and charged with him.
Cross-examined. I was present at the trial of Thomas in June—this is a copy of the certificate of his conviction—he was convicted of unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Anna Maria Jaquess £100, from James Frazier Jaquess £500, and an order for the payment of £600—he was sentenced tofive years' penal servitude—I arrested Jaquess on July 2nd by the instructions of Inspector Froest—I had no warrant for his arrest at the time—a warrant was given to me the next day, July 3rd—since then he has been in custody.
Cross-examined. I am a clerk in the London and Westminster Bank, Temple Bar branch—Thomas had a deposit and a drawing account there—I was present at his trial in June—this is a cheque drawn by Mrs. Jaquess; it is endorsed "S. Cade" or "T. Cade"—I do not know the writing of the endorsement—I used to know Thomas's writing—I should say that this endorsement was not in his writing.
The transcript of the shorthand notes of the evidence of Colonel Jaquess given upon the trial of Howell Thomas on 28th and 29th June, 1894, was then read. For narrative report of this see "Sessions Paper," Vol. CXX., No. 717.
A large number of letters and other documents were put in. Some were read in the Counsel's opening, and others in the speech for the defence, the following being those especially referred to in the course of the case:—"February 2nd, 1886, from Colonel Jaquess to Howell Thorn is—"My dear sir, re Townley, I have made a minute of what I think you can say with propriety of our case and which will greatly aid Mrs. Jaquess in her contemplated work in America. You will please accept the statement as simply suggestion subject to your approval, amendment, etc., etc." "In the matter of the claim of your clients in America to certain estates and properties in this country, situated
in Lancashire and elsewhere in England, and known as the Towneley estates, I have considered the case submitted to me, with the accompanying table of pedigree, and certificates of marriages, births, and deaths, and fully concur in the opinion of the able Counsel expressed in writing, which you have shown to me, that William Towneley Laurance traces his line of descent clearly, fully, and without a missing link in the chain of evidence back to his ancestor John Laurance, and Mary Townley his wife, through whom he claims the above-named estates and properties. And I further state that with the record of the marriage of Mary Townley and John Laurance, now in your possession, and which you have shown to me, the proofs of pedigree are now complete; and as. Requested by you I shall proceed at once and without delay, availing myself of the work heretofore done, to prepare the case in conformity with recently obtained facts and records for presentation to the proper tribunal for adjustment and settlement, with certain prospect of a speedy hearing, and reasonable and encouraging probability of a decision in favour of your client, the afore-named William Townley Laurance, or those claiming under him." To Colonel Jaquess, February 2nd, 1886—"My dear Sir,—Referring to our interview this morning, the points to be enumerated in the statement to be made by yourself and to be presented to my friends in America for their consideration and action occur to me in part as follows, to wit: A trial since my return in Court, in which our strength was manifest and the weakness of the defence painfully apparent. The practical results, growing out of this trial, viz.:—Request of defendant's Counsel for terms of settlement without further litigation, and which proposal has resulted in a meeting of yourself, a Counsel of the plaintiff, with defendant in presence of his Counsel, and definite proposal for terms of settlement as follows, to wit: £5,000 cash payment to be made by plaintiff and divided among all the defendants, and an additional sum of £60,000 to be paid to defendants out of and from the estate when same shall be recovered by the plaintiff. And while the forms of law must be observed in prosecuting the cause of plaintiff, defendants are not to defend but to confess his or their inability to meet, disprove, or overcome the claim and proofs presented by plaintiff; and further the case of resistance to any claim set up by plaintiff, defendants are, as best they can under the conditions and circumstances of the case, to aid and join with plaintiff in meeting any and all objections raised or put forth by the Government. This proposal was rejected on the ground that the cash payment was unreasonable, but was consented to as to deferred payments as reasonable and just. You (Mr. T.) still consider the terms as to the cash payments unreasonable, and so informed the defendant and Counsel in most emphatic and positive terms, but considered the other terms reasonable. You, therefore, adjourned the meeting for the purpose of consulting plaintiff—leaving them with the understanding that you had a complete case with ample backing, etc., etc., and should prosecute the same vigorously, etc., etc. You think you may be able to reduce the cash payment to four thousand pounds, and possibly still lower, etc. Nevertheless, taking into account the great advantage to be gained by accepting even these terms, we must not pass them by without due consideration. Here, please name some of these advantages, and among them time, with none to oppose us we may avoid and escape
much of the law's delays. The points on which you desire most to con✗ plaintiff is—since it will not be safe to encroach to any great extent, even to meet terms of a reasonable compromise upon the fund so nobly and so promptly furnished by your friends for the prosecution of the case; seeing that we must pass the case through legal requirements, the question still remains for plaintiff to answer—viz., If no better terms than a cash payment of £5,000 can he had, can we venture upon that sum with safety, etc., etc., etc.—Truly and faithfully (signed) JAMES JAQUESS, for plaintiff, 47, Woburn Place.—H. Thomas, Esq, 40, Chancery Lane—November 15th, 1886" "40, Chancery Lane, London, W.C, November 19th, 1886. My dear Sir,—Laurance v. Norreys and others. The Earl of Abingdon, father of Lord Norreys, has obtained leave to appear and to defend as to a part of the property claimed in this action. This is presumably done to aid Ncrreys, who is unable to defend. To avoid the disclosures which they so much dread and with a view to nip our action in the bud, and so prevent a public trial, their solicitors took out a summons to strike out the claim, and to stay the action, which summons was heard on the 1st inst. Before Master in Chambers, at the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand, who refused to make the order they asked for, and in doing so, added that he thought our cause of action was good, and that the claim was sufficiently set out, and was a reasonable one. From this order the defendants appealed to the Judge in Chambers, which appeal came on before his Lordship Baron Pollock, on the 3rd inst., who again refused their application, and confirmed the Master's order in our favour. His Lordship further ordered that, as the matter was a most important one, and the interests involved were very great, the matter should be adjourned into the Divisional Court, there to be argued before two Judges. Two other defendants have endeavoured to embarrass and delay the plaintiff; but his Lordship, on our request, stayed their summonses, and directed them to stand adjourned until after the argument in the Divisional Court, and so their hands are tied up. I have all along thought that the defendants were wrong in taking this course, and told them so, and that their summons was strong evidence they had no case to go to trial, and so far both the Master and the Judge have confirmed my view of the case. The real and substantial question to be decided is the one of the Statute of Limitations, and that I have months ago offered the defendants to submit to the Court for argument; but they, being afraid, have declined to do so, although it must ultimately come to that, and the Judge so intimated, too, when we were before him. We shall undoubtedly stand or fall by the Statute, as to which I think, together with our Counsel, that we are right in our view, and will so argue before the Court with every confidence and prospect of success. So far we have scored two victories, which, although they are of a preliminary nature, yet they are satisfactory (and tend to disclose our opponents' case, if they have any, and to dishearten them), and I trust we shall continue so to the end. They have, however, had this further and more important result, that the defendants' solicitors have approached me with regard to proposed terms of settlement, and have offered to accept a sum of. £60,000, to be divided between them, out of and from the estate recovered by the plaintiff, on the plaintiff succeeding in the action, with a cash payment of £5,000 down, in which case
the defendants are prepared to stand by and undertake not to raise any technical objection or obstacle to the plaintiff's case, but let it be fought on its merits, so that all he will have to do will be to satisfy the Court that his claim is good, and that I think we can do. The cash payment down I have objected to, and think they may be got to accept a sum of £4,000, being £1,000 (sic). Looking at the immense advantages which the plaintiff would derive in accepting their overtures, I think it wise that he should seriously consider the improved prospects of his case in so doing, and make every effort to accept same. I am, however, diffident in consulting the plaintiff upon these terms, since I see that they exceed the limits of the funds which his friends have hitherto so nobly and promptly furnished him; yet, under the exigencies of the case, I think it most desirable to comply with the terms, and so aid in bringing to a termination, and successfully, I earnestly hope—a long-pending and very eventful case. If the terms are accepted, we have practically carte blanche as far as the said defendants are concerned, who know they have no case, and are trying to make the best they can before it is too late; and in that event we ought and will, I believe, prove our case, and I therefore invite you to put these facts at once before your friends for their serious consideration and prompt reply. The action will be over considerably within the time I have previously mentioned to you. Awaiting your immediate reply, yours very truly, H. THOMAS. "
GUILTY JAQUESS— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. THOMAS— Twenty Months' Hard Labour, to be concurrent with his previous sentence.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
JAMES PLUMMER , I am clerk to Croggan and Co., zinc merchants, of 15, Upper Thames Street—on September 7th I received this telegram; I put some letters on it, entered the order, and gave instruction for the things, value £4, to be sent to James Knight, cloak-room, Barnsbury Station—I entered the account to the Army and Navy Stores—we deal with them.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I do not remember receiving any telegram from the Army and Navy Stores.
HORACE HENRY OWEN .—I live at 10, Upham Park Road, Chiswick, and am employed at the Army and Navy Stores—they buy materials from croggan and Co.—I generally sent an order, but sometimes a telegram—I have been through the books—no order has been given for two rolls of zinc for Croggan and Co.—this order did not come from my department or with my authority—all orders for zinc are signed by me—the prisoner was in the employ of the Stores years ago, before my time.
FREDERICK ASHINGTON . I am a parcels clerk at the North London Railway—on September 7th, about seven o'clock, I received two rolls of zinc from Croggan and Co., addressed James Knight, cloak-room, North London Railway—they were despatched by train the same day.
WILLIAM COX . I am station inspector at Barnsbury—the two rolls of zinc were received there by the 7.15 train—Hedges called for them on September 8th—I delivered them to him, and he signed the book—the zinc was consigned to J. Knight, cloak-room, Barnsbury Station—I asked Hedges questions, which he answered.
JOSEPH HEDGES . I am a carman and greengrocer, of 83, St. John's Road—I have known the prisoner about eighteen months, and have occasionally carted things for him—on September 8th he came and asked if I could do a little job—I said, "Yes"—he told me to go to Barnsbury Station and fetch two rolls of zinc from the cloak-room; he said he had been to see them, and they were there—I was to meet him in Ball's Pond Road—I got the zinc at the station, and met the prisoner at Highbury Station—he got up into my van, and told me to drive him to Mr. Goring's—I did so and delivered the zinc, and was paid 2s.—Mr. Goring and I unloaded it in the prisoner's presence.
Cross-examined. We have been together several times, and have had a glass occasionally—I do not remember falling out of the van on my head and Mr. Goring rendering me some assistance—we had an accident with the van on August 25th, and the white lead came over my hands—I have oftener called on you than you on me, but you sent the boy with a note.
WILLIAM ARTHUR GORING . I am a builder and oilman, of 308, St. Paul's Road, Highbury—on September 8th the prisoner came to me and said he had been working for a firm of builders in Highbury, and could not get his money, and asked if I could assist him—I said, "No"—he asked me to buy some brushes—I bought some white lead and some coils of lead—I gave him £2 11s. for this zinc—this is his receipt.
Cross-examined. I have known you over three years, and you have bought of me—this zinc weighed 2 cwt. 3 qrs.—I paid you a fair price for it—Hedges brought it in his cart—I think you bought something at my place on September 8th.
Prisoner's defence. My witnesses do not appear, or I could have proved that on September 8th Hedges called on me and took 3 cwt. 2 qrs. of zinc to Missington Road, which I sold to Mr. Goring, who paid me a fair price for it, £2 11s. I went round to Hedges, and he came to me; I never went near Barnsbury Station, neither have I had any transactions with Messrs. Croggan. I recollect the transaction because Hedges fell out of the cart on his head, and Mr. Goring assisted to bring him round. The zinc I sold was my own property.
58. FRANK JOURDAIN was again indicted for stealing 3 cwt. of white lead, the property of Henry Holditch Martin, to which he PLEADED GUILTY . The police stated that there were twenty or thirty cases where the prisoner had sent telegrams for orders.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
59. EDWARD PUXLEY (61), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining 15s. from Thomas Ashurst by false pretences, with intent to defraud. He had been convicted of a like offence in November, 1879, and twelve other cases of obtaining money were traced to him.— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. CORSER Prosecuted.
JOHN COHEN . I am an outfitter, at 126, High Street, Deptford—last Friday week, 9th November, I went to bed about twenty minutes or half-past twelve, leaving everything quite secure—at half-past three on Saturday morning I was disturbed by the police—I came down, and found the door had been broken, and wrenched right off by the hinges, and the upper part of the shutter was splintered up, and I missed seven coats, worth £5 18s.—I found the prisoners in custody of the police when I came down—I afterwards saw the coats, and identified them as mine.
JOHN WOOD (511 R). On the morning of 10th November, at three o'clock, I was in High Street, Deptford—I saw the two prisoners standing outside Mr. Cohen's shop—I saw them leave the shop and go up High Street, about 130 yards, to an archway—I crossed the road, looked at the shop door, and saw that it had been forced open—I then followed the prisoners, and saw them stopped—I then came back to the shop, and fetched Constable Reed, and we went to the arches, and saw the prisoners come in, and we took them into custody—we then went to the shop, and called up the prosecutor—when I took the prisoners I said, "What are you doing about here at this time in the morning?"—Bentley said, "We can walk about the streets if we like, can't we?"—on taking them back to the shop I saw the coats lying about—I searched them at the station, and found on Bentley two knives and two pocket books; and on Twiddey two mouth organs (toys) and a key—I found no burglarious instruments or any matches—there is a coffee-stall at Deptford Causeway—about a quarter to three I saw two men there, not the prisoners; I only saw them for a few minutes—the coffee-stall is, I should say, a quarter of a mile from the prosecutor's shop—I was away looking for the constable about two minutes—there was not time for anybody to have gone to the shop and taken the coats—when I first saw the prisoners they were not carrying anything—when they came back to the shop I hid myself in a dark place—there was no one else in the street.
WILLIAM REED (235 R). On the morning of 10th November the last witness communicated with me—I saw the prisoners come down the railway arches—we stopped them, and asked what they were doing out at that time in the morning—Bentley said, "Can't we walk about as we like?"—we took them back to the shop, and found the door open—we called the prosecutor up—he said he had last some property—I went back to the arches, and found the property against a dead wall—that was about 130 yards from where I found the prisoners—when I saw the
prisoners they were going in the direction of the property—I had examined the prosecutor's shop about three-quarters of an hour before, it was all correct then—after the property was discovered I watched it till daylight; no one came for it—the shop is about 150 or 160 yards from where I found the property—I was concealed, watching to see if anybody came—I am certain that no other persons passed except the prisoners—I afterwards saw two working men come along; that was after the prisoners were arrested—both the prisoners were sober.
SETH GRIFFITHS (Sergeant B 49). I was in High Street at 2.30 in the morning of the 10th November, and saw both the prisoners standing near the prosecutor's shop—on seeing me they feigned drunkenness—Twiddey caught Bentley by the arm, and they walked away in the direction of New Cross—I did not see them again till they were in custody—the shop was quite safe at 2.30—I knew Twiddey by sight, but not Bentley—I am quite certain Twiddey was one of the men I saw at 2.30.
HENRY DREW (Inspector). The prisoners were brought to the station about 3.23 on the 10th and charged—Bentley made no reply to the charge—Twiddey said, "We had just come from the coffee-stall in the Broadway"—I examined the prosecutor's premises at four that same morning—I found that the door had been broken off the hinges—about half-past six the same morning I found this file a few yards from the railway arch, where the prisoners were arrested—I compared it with the marks on the door, and they fitted exactly, and there was also some green paint on the file like that on the lock of the door—Twiddey gave his correct address; Bentley gave a false address, 146—I told him so, and he said he had made a mistake in the number, it was 164.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
MARGARET FEVER . I am the wife of John Fever, of 7, Field Row, Wandsworth—our goods were distrained upon by Mr. Allen, a broker, and a man remained in possession—I met the prisoner at the Chequers public-house, Wandsworth, and had a conversation with him—he was a perfect stranger to me—he gave me his name and address—I informed him that the brokers were in; he told me to go home and try to get them out, and he would act as a friend and see me righted, and see that everything went on all right—I went and saw him at his house, and asked him to come in the morning between eight and nine—on 27th October I went with him to Mr. Sloper's, the landlord's, house—he was not at home—we met him at Wood Street Station about half-past ten that morning—the prisoner said to me, "You stand on one side, and I will see Mr. Allen, the broker"—I saw them talking, but was not near enough to hear what was said—I went back to my house—the prisoner handed me this piece of paper, and I handed him 30s. to pay out the broker—he said he
would go in the office and pay Mr. Allen—he went towards the office, but never came back. (The paper—marked "B"—was as follows:—"Mr. Allen,—Mr. Alfred Saunders will pay you 30s. to-day. Please take this, and let the man out.—Sloper.")—I knew the prisoner as Alfred Saunders—my husband gave me the money to pay him—he pawned his watch for 3s., to make up the money and expenses.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I first saw you on the Friday night—I was not drunk—I had the 30s. from my husband on the Saturday morning—I did not spend any of the money with the two women who were with me—I gave you the money, a sovereign, a sixpence, and a half crown or a two-shilling piece, and a shilling—I had the sovereign from my husband on the Friday night—he had it back on the Saturday morning.
GEORGE DARTNELL . I am foreman to Mr. Sloper—I issued this distress on his behalf—the prisoner came to Mr. Allen's office and produced this paper marked "B," and told me the landlord had given it to him—Mr. Allen was not satisfied, and instructed me to go to Mr. Sloper—this document is in Mr. Sloper's handwriting—I saw him write it—I returned to Mr. Allen's office—we had some drink in a public-house—I left the prisoner at the bottom of Erskine Road—he said he would call at the office and pay the 30s.; he did not—the last I saw of him was at the public-house—he paid a sovereign for the drink.
Cross-examined. I did not see the woman give you any money—when you left me you said you were going to get the money.
EDWARD GEORGE ALLEN . I am a broker at 60, Elmsdale Road, Wandsworth—on October 27th I had a man in possession at Fever's—on going to the office that day I found the prisoner with the last witness—the prisoner produced a rent book, and said he was the brother-in-law of Fever, and he was going to assist them out of their trouble—he gave the name of Alfred Saunders—he produced this document—I said I was willing to take the 30s.—I directed Dartnell to go to Mr. Sloper, and they went away together—that was the last I saw of the prisoner—I did not have the 30s.—Mrs. Fever came to me the night before, and asked if I would accept a sovereign, but no money was tendered, And I never saw any.
JOHN FEVER . I am the prosecutrix's husband—I am a dairyman, of 7, Field Road, Wandsworth—I put this matter into the hands of the police—the prisoner is not my brother-in-law, I had never seen him before—on Saturday morning, 27th, I gave my wife £1 14s. before I went to work at five o'clock—on Saturday night I went to the prisoner's house; he would not come down and see me—his wife said he was not at home—he called when I was in bed on the Saturday morning—I saw him—I had given my wife the £1 14s. to see if she could settle it—I did not give her any money on the Friday night—I said, "Do the best with the money, and get the matter settled"—I did not know if she had tried to get the landlord to take less.
Cross-examined. I did not give her a sovereign on the Friday night—I put it on the mantel-piece, and took it off and gave it back to her on the Saturday morning—I don't know what she had been spending on the Friday night; she was at home that night—you asked me to say I was your brother—that was on the Friday night, and I said "All right"
Re-examined. On the Friday night I had a sovereign in my pocket—I put it on the mantel-piece, and took it back again, and on the Saturday morning I gave my wife the same sovereign and 14s.—I did not give her any before.
MARY ROBINSON . I am the wife of Charles Arthur Robinson, of 13, Field's Cottages, St. John Street, Wandsworth—on Saturday, 27th October, I was with the prosecutrix outside Wood Street Railway Station—I went with them to Mr. Fever's house—she had £1 7s. 6d., and I got 2s. 11 1/2 d. for the watch to make up 11s., and gave her the money—I did not see what she did with the money—the prisoner was in the kitchen—I saw her go with him in the direction of Mr. Allen's office.
Cross-examined. She did not borrow any money of me—she did not say that I owed her 4s. 6d.—I was not drunk when I was with her, all day; it is false.
ARTHUR RABSEY (Detective N). At 11.30 on the morning of 29th October I arrested the prisoner at his house—I read the warrant to him—he said it was a lie—I took him to the station; he was charged—he made no answer.
The prisoner in a written defence alleged that the prosecutrix was drinking with two women, and was very drunk and excited, and was continually forcing drink upon him; that he offered to assist her in her trouble, and that she afterwards accused him of taking the £1 14s. from her.
NOT GUILTY .
62. HENRY NEIL (26), and DANIEL NEIL (21) , Feloniously wounding Alfred Brace with intent to maim and disable him, to do him grievous bodily harm, and to resist and prevent the apprehension of the said Daniel Neil.
MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted.
ALFRED BRACE (176 P). On Saturday, October 20th, I was on duty, in uniform, in the Commercial Road, Peckham—about half-past ten my attention was attracted to some men walking along the footpath—there were four or five besides the two prisoners—they were coming along arm-in-arm, shouting and using most obscene language—I requested them to go along more orderly—they were knocking up against foot passengers, thereby driving them into the road—when I spoke to them the whole of them immediately surrounded me, Daniel Neil saying, "You are a f—fine thing to attempt to stop us; if you attempt to blow your whistle I will knock it down your f—throat"—he then struck me a violent blow on the side of the face with his fist—I immediately took him into custody—he was very violent—then police-constable Vosper came to my assistance—Henry Neil caught hold of Daniel and tried to get him away from our custody, and, failing to do so, he said, "Go quiet, Dan, I will see to you"—I and Vosper then proceeded to take Daniel in custody to the station—after proceeding about 500 yards along Park Road towards Peckham Station, Henry Neil again came up and struck Vosper a violent blow on the head with an iron bar, knocking his helmet into the road—he then struck me a violent blow in the mouth, with the same instrument, knocking out seventeen of my teeth, cutting my upper lip through, and knocking a portion of my gum out of its place—I still retained hold of Daniel, and continued to hold him until some other constables came up—Vosper took hold of Henry, having taken him into custody—when I was
struck I fell up against the rails—I got to the station with the assistance of a private individual and another constable—when they were charged at the station Daniel said, "I wish he had had his f—head kicked off"—Henry said, "I wish he was b—well killed"—Dr. Esler, the surgeon to the police, was sent for, and saw me—I suffered a good deal of pain—I was confined to my bed eleven days, and have been on the sick-list ever since.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. It was half-past ten when this, happened—from the Duke of Sussex to where I arrested Daniel is 500 yards, as near as I could judge—when I first came up to you I did not say, "Take your b—hooks out of this," and strike your brother—he did not say, "What did you do that?" nor did I take out my truncheon and say, "I will show you"—Vosper did not rush, up and get hold of Daniel—you said, "Go quietly, Dan"—I did not try to knock him down; I fell over the kerb—that was not the way I got my teeth out; I did not fall to the ground—I know nothing after you struck, me with the iron bar—you were not on the ground till after you struck the blow—you were bleeding from the eye at the station—you struck me with the iron bar with your right hand.
Prisoner. I could not have done it, for my right hand is paralysed; it is all a deliberately made-up lie from beginning to end. Where is the iron, bar?
Witness. You dropped it, and another man picked it up and ran away with it.
Cross-examined by Daniel Neil. I did not come behind you and strike you on the back of the head, and draw my truncheon—the people did not cry shame at us.
RICHARD VOSPER (221 P). On Saturday night, 20th October, at half-past ten, I was on duty in Commerial Road, Peckham—I saw Brace arrest Daniel Neil—I went up to his assistance, and proceeded to take Daniel, with Brace, to the station—I saw Henry there—he came up and struck me a violent blow with an iron bar across my head, which knocked my helmet into the road—I let go of Daniel, and saw Henry Neil strike Brace violently in the mouth with the same bar, and I saw blood come from his mouth—I then immediately took Henry into custody—he threw the iron bar behind him, threw me on the ground, and kicked me in the ribs—there was a disorderly crowd there, between two hundred and three hundred, collected together—while I was on the ground I was kicked in the face by one of them—I continued to hold Henry Neil until assistance came—I remember a labourer coming to my assistance—some other policemen came up, and both the prisoners were taken to the station—when Daniel was arrested I heard Henry say he would see what he could do.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. The Duke of Sussex is about five hundred yards from where Brace was struck—Daniel was taken into custody in Commercial Road; you were taken in Lower Park Road—you tried to rescue your brother at the first onset, and I said to you, "If you don't leave him alone I shall have to take you into custody"—I did not strike you in the eye—I did not kneel on your chest—you were atop of me, and I was on the sick list three days—if the people cried "Shame," it was on what you had done—I did not say at the station to Cornell, "It is the
tall one that struck the constable"—you were bleeding from the left eye—you did that yourself when you tore yourself from me and ran against the corner and knocked yourself down—you struck me with an iron bar—you got it from somewhere—it was about two feet long—you struck overyour shoulder, with two hands—you threw it behind you—I could not say where you got it from, unless you got it from the opposite side of the road, where there was a lumber place.
HERBERT CORNELL . I am a chandler—on Saturday night, 20th October, I was in Lower Park Road, and saw Daniel Neil in custody—he was struggling, trying to get away—I saw the taller one (Henry) come up to where he was, and saw him strike Police-constable Brace a blow with a bar of iron—he struck more than one constable—the second blow knocked the helmet off the other constable—the bar dropped at my feet—it was undoubtedly an iron bar—another person picked it up, and ran away with it—I went to the Police-station to get assistance, seeing the crowd was so dense, I thought the police required assistance.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. I did not state that I had been to the Duke of Sussex for refreshment—I am a seventeen years total abstainer—I heard you say, "Go quiet, Dan, I will see to you"—you said that within a few yards of where you struck the constable—you struck Brace first and Vosper second, with the iron bar—it might have been a piece of gas-pipe—it dropped at my feet—I had not a chance of picking it up, it was picked up so suddenly, and run away with—there were only two constables there then, not four or five.
By the JURY. There was an interval of three minutes or more between Daniel's arrest and Henry striking the constable—I watched the proceedings of Daniel for 300 or 400 yards down the road—I never saw Henry until the blow was delivered—there was no interval between Henry saying, "I will see to you," and the blow being struck—it was done instantly; to my mind he had the bar concealed—he was only a yard or so distant—he had to push his way through the crowd, and then he struck directly.
HENRY HERBERT PAICE . I am employed at a gun-maker's at Camber-well—on this night I saw the prisoner Daniel in the custody of the police—there was a crowd round—I saw the taller prisoner strike 176 across the mouth with an iron bar—I am sure he had a bar in his hand—I did not see what became of it—I saw the blood come from the constable's mouth.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. I did not see the commencement of the row—I saw you strike 176—I am almost sure it was with an iron bar—it was a blow full at the mouth—you swung the bar round—I think you had it in your right hand; I am not positive—I saw Vosper struggling with you on the ground; I did not see you strike him—this happened outside the greengrocer's in Lower Park Road—I should say that would be about fifty yards from the Duke of Sussex.
ALFRED MILLS . I am a labourer, and live in Peckham Park Road—on this night I saw a crowd, and saw one of the prisoners in custody—I saw Henry Neil strike Vosper with a piece of iron, or a bar of some kind, and after that he struck Brace in the mouth—I saw his mouth bleeding, and he rolled up against the fence—Vosper then closed with the prisoner; it was an up-and-down struggle and the crowd rushed in—I got knocked about, and am suffering in my ribs—they told me I could not get them
to their feet, and I had better run to the station, which I did, and assistance came.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. I should think this was about 500 yards from the Duke of Sussex—I could not say in which hand you had the bar; it fell between someone's legs, and one of your friends picked it up, and ran off with it—you were literally surrounded with friends; I had seen them before—you are a stranger to me, as far as speaking goes.
ROBERT ESLER . I live at 4, Queen's Road, Peck ham, and am Divisional Surgeon of Police—about 10.45 on Saturday night, October 20th, I was called to Peckham Station, and there saw Brace—I examined his mouth—his teeth lad been knocked out, and his mouth was regularly smashed and his lip cut—I subsequently ascertained he had lost seventeen teeth; he had eleven left—he was bleeding very profusely from the gums, and his lip was cut completely through—most of the injury was done to the left side of the mouth—the injuries were of a very serious character; he was not able to masticate anything—they were such injuries as might have been caused by a blow from an iron bar.
Cross-examined by Henry Neil. I have no recollection of saying at the station that his teeth were decayed—you asked me to examine you—I did so; you were bleeding from the eye and also from the knee; you had been kicked—I had a sponge—you refused to let me wipe the blood off—at the Police-court you asked me if Brace was sober; he was—I should not think falling on the kerb would knock a man's teeth out—a constable brought eleven teeth to me next morning, and I examined them.
Henry Neil's deefnce. I and my brother had been at the Albion public-house, and left together, when Brace came up drunk and struck my brother, and Vosper came and knocked me down and knelt on my chest. Brace threw my brother twice, and the second time he fell against the kerb, and that was the way in which he lost his teeth. He blew his whistle, and up came a lot of coppers. It is a made-up thing altogether.
Daniel Neil's defence. I was just bidding my brother good-night when the constable came up and struck me and said, "Take your hook, or I will knock out your brains." My brother said, "Go quietly; you have done nothing." Vosper came up, and they tried to throw me on my back, and the constable fell on the kerb, and that was how he did it.
DANIEL NEIL— NOT GUILTY . HENRY NEIL— GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction for felony at Lambeth Police-court on it 4th April last, and two other convictions were proved against him.
The prisoners were afterwards indicted before another JURY for assaulting Alfred Brace while in the execution of his duty. Constables Brace and Vosper repeated the substance of their evidence in the last case. The JURY found both prisoners GUILTY .
DANIEL NEIL— Six Months' Hard Labour. HENRY NEIL— Seven Years' Penal Servitude on the former indictment.
MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS expressed his admiration of the remarkable bravery of Brace also of his discretion and good temper, and regretted that he had not the power of ordering him a reward. The GRAND JURY and the PETTIT JURY also made similar commendations.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HOME Prosecuted.
SIDNEY HIND . I live at Webley Road, South Lambeth—at 12.15 a.m. on 13th October, I was walking home along the Stock well Road, and as I passed a dark turning the prisoner suddenly pounced out, striking me a blow on my head, and knocking me down—before I could recover myself two others not in custody sprang out from somewhere, held mo down, stood on my arm, cutting my fingers and arms severely with their boots, and took 18s. from my right hand trousers pocket—I shouted "Police!"—a gentleman who was passing blew a policeman's whistle, and the prisoner and the other men got up and ran away—I never lost sight of the prisoner—I followed him for a few minutes up one street and down another till he stopped, and then I seized and held him till a constable Arrived and took him into custody—I had a struggle with him—at the station he said that in about nine months' time, when he came out, he would do for me if I charged him—I was sober; I had had a glass or two of ale, but was not intoxicated—I kept the prisoner in sight, and am certain he is the man who struck me—when I was on the ground I had a few blows in the face from the other men, not from the prisoner.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was by myself; I was not singing—I did not come over to you, and have a bit of a squabble with you—I told the inspector I could not exactly say if I had lost anything till I had a little reckoning up, because I had received some money that day—I had about £6 15s. altogether—the 18s. was in another pocket, which was torn half-way out.
JOHN LOVING (235 W). On 13th October, at half-past twelve, I heard cries of "Police!" and a whistle, and I ran for about fifty yards, and then received information from a gentleman who was passing—I ran into Chan trey Road, and at the top of the street I saw the prisoner by the side of the prosecutor—about ten other persons were standing round—I should say the prosecutor had been drinking; he was bleeding from the mouth; he had no hat on, and his right hand and knuckles were bleeding—he knew perfectly well what he was doing—he told me that the prisoner had sprung out from a dark place and knocked him down, and at the same time two others sprang out and held him down while the others robbed him, that a gentleman passing blew a whistle, when the men ran away, and that he gave chase and caught the prisoner in Chantrey Road—the prisoner said nothing—I took him into custody—when I told him I should take him into custody, he said, addressing the prosecutor, "God blind me, if you charge me for this I will do for you in about nine months' time when I come out"—in answer to the charge at the station he said, "God blind me, I will f—g well do for you when I come out."
Cross-examined. I don't think you were the worse for drink—you were sober so far as I could tell—the prosecutor told the inspector he did not know exactly the amount of money he had missed—I did not see a young woman pass as we went to the station, and speak to the prosecutor—the prisoner had no marks on him as if he had been attacked by anybody.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The prosecutor told the inspector at the station that he was not robbed."
The prisoner in his defence stated that he met the prosecutor coming along with two women, and singing, that he told him to shut up, that the prosecutor asked him what he was talking about, and they had a fight till a woman told him to go away, and that he had gone about 100 yards when the constable arrested him.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction of felony in March, 1894, in the name of George Wilson. Seven convictions for assault were proved against the prisoner and one for being on enclosed premises.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour and Twenty Strokes with the Cat.
MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.
SIDNEY DEANE . I am a farmer, living at Franklin Farm in the parish of Wonersh, county Surrey—the prisoner married my sister, and she came with her daughter in May to reside with me—the prisoner also came in May—I had a conversation with him on Sunday evening, November 4th—I had to go some distance to milk the cows and he was with me—I was shifting from one farm to the other and I said that so many of us could not go to one house—I told him he had to clear out, or something like that—that was on Sunday morning—we dine at one o'clock, and my sister had an apple tart made—after dinner I sat in my chair with my hat on and went to sleep, and received a blow on my head, and then a second blow—I had had no quarrel with the prisoner before that—I got out of my chair and saw him walk away, and through the wash-house into the house—I saw Mr. Brown and gave information to him, and he communicated with the police—they were two heavy blows—I do not know what he did it with, but I had two cuts through my hat—the wounds bled—I was attended by a doctor—I had given the prisoner no provocation.
By the COURT. When I went to sleep he was in a chair opposite me, sitting down.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not say that I returned with you from Newton, I said I went with you—I did not speak to you at the time this happened, because I was asleep—I say on my oath that you attacked me while I was asleep—I do not know that I did not speak to you when you spoke to me, or that you did speak to me; you only looked at me.
By the COURT. He did not speak to me going out of the room—I said, "Oh, you blackguard, that is what you mean, is it?"—he had on his wearing trousers.
By the prisoner. Of course you were there when I was cutting the corn and the hay—I was turned out of a farm at Michaelmas—I prepared a valuation, putting down the work you had done—before your wife came to me, I wrote out an advertisement for a housekeeper; she has acted as my housekeeper—she said, "I am coming to your place; I have orders to get away for the benefit of my health, and I shall be there on Thursday"—I did not arrange with you that you should have a shilling a week and your board and lodging for your labouring on the farm.
Re-examined. He has been six months with me without paying anything.
GEORGE HERBERT EDE . I am a surgeon, practising at Bramby, in the county of Surrey—on November 4th I saw the prosecutor; he was suffering from an incised wound on the back part of his head, and one on the side—one was two inches long, and down to the bone—I cut away the hair, and found another wound further forward, only just breaking the skin—the first was a clean-cut wound—a blow with this bill-hook (produced) would produce the wounds, but it would require some force—if the prisoner suggests that he gave a back-handed blow the wounds are not consistent with that—he must have been standing directly behind, and the blows were downwards—the wounds were serious, but not dangerous—his hat was cut.
Cross-examined. One of the wounds was slight, but I do not think it possible that, when the first wound was done, so; that the second was done with the top of the hook.
WILLIAM TIILEY (Surrey Constabulary, 27). On November 4th, at three p.m., Mr. Deane came to the station with this hat, and made a complaint to me—I noticed a cut in the hat, and saw one wound on his head—I bandaged it and sent for a doctor—I went where he lives, and found several chairs overthrown and this hand-bill on the floor in the front room—I saw the prisoner about an hour afterwards—he said, "This is a bid job," and then he said that he had been injured in a scuffle, and in the scuffle he threw the hook at the prosecutor Deane, back-handed in self-defence, and it stuck in his head, and that he threw the hook as he was falling over the chopping-block—after examining his shoulder, I said, "It appears to me you have got all your injuries in a fall"—he was freshly bruised—this was about four o'clock—it was rather quick for the bruises to be discoloured—he said that he had thrown the hook backhanded, or under-handed, as he was falling—I said, "That appears impossible, because that would be a horizontal cut, and this is on the top of the man's head;" and afterwards I said, "The doctors have found two cuts"—he said that his wife and daughter persisted in living with the prosecutor, and Mr. Deane wanted to get rid of him.
Cross-examined. The first time you met me you said that the cut was occasioned by the hook.
Prisoner's defence. I have written a statement. When the case was brought before the Magistrate my solicitor did not say a word about the commencement, and they would not allow me to speak, consequently I decided to come here and wait, that the point should be heard. This is the first time that I have had a chance. My brother-in-law was sitting in an arm chair apparently asleep, and I went to the mantelpiece near him to get a boot lace. I put my foot on the rung of a chair in looking for the boot lace, and I had the hook in my hand, and in the act of getting back I slipped from the rung of the chair, and the second mark on his head was caused by the hook, and then the hook fell on the chair. I seized the hook; he did not speak, but took the file and threw it at me. He did everything he could to upset me. It is true that he was asleep, but I did not attack him, it was a pure accident.
GUILTY . The prosecutor stated that the prisoner had behaved well while with him, but had not by his own account treated his wife properly.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
The JURY then stated that they did not think the prisoner could be right
in his mind. The RECORDER directed that their suspicion should be recorded, and that the prisoner should be watched.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY Prosecuted;MR. HUTTON Defended Gilmour; and MR. LAWLESS Defended Ward.
FRANCIS WILLIAM BUXTON . I am a banker—in April I and my family were occupying The Ledgers at Chelsham, which is six miles south of Croydon—that house is a one-storied building, with a ground floor and one floor above—I had one or two visitors staying with me on April 5th—on that day our dinner was over about nine or 9.15, and then we all assembled in the drawing-room—there was a large party of children, my own eight, and one or two visitors' young children—they were playing about, making a noise—the servants at that time would be at supper at the other end of the house—the drawing-room and library occupy the ground floor at one end, and on the floor above is a short passage with a bedroom at each end, and two dressing-rooms in the middle, between the two bedrooms—each dressing-room has two doors, and communicates with the passage and with a bedroom, but not with the other dressing-room—it is an oddly-arranged, old-fashioned house—to get to the dining-room you have to pass through the conservatory—the dining-room is same little way off; it was added by Mr. Baron Cleasby, who used to live there; there are no rooms over it—the servants' quarters, where they were at supper, are on the ground floor beyond the dining-room, and over their room are the servants' bedrooms, approached by another staircase at the back of the house—the end of the house where the drawing-room and library are faces due north; the front door faces west, and the other part of the house, looking into the garden, faces east—a ladder was found against a dressing-room window, on the north side of the house, the side from which the wind blew very strongly that night, and made a noise with the trees, and so on—the bedroom and dressing-room windows face north—the dressing-room, against which the ladder was placed, was not occupied that evening; to get into Mrs. Buxton's bedroom it would be necessary to come from that dressing-room into the passage, and along the passage to her room—in consequence of something I was told I went upstairs, and found the window of the unoccupied dressing-room had been broken open—there was a circular fractured hole in the glass, just sufficient to admit a hand, by which the latch was opened—on the glass was a good deal of sticky substance, which we afterwards found to be Iiebig's extract of meat—on the window-sill was some thick brown paper covered with this sticky substance—the window was a French lateral window, and was open—I saw a ladder against the wall just outside the window, a person could step from it into the window—it was pitch dark—the prisoners had no right to be on or near my premises—I did not see them till they were in custody—Mrs. Buxton lost ten or twelve different articles—I went into my wife's bedroom to see what had been taken—I did not find that room in confusion; everything was left as it was before, with the exception of the jewellery—Mrs.
Buxton came up immediately, and we missed a pearl necklace, a gold watch with a gold chain and trinkets attached, another little gold watch which she wore on her wrist, set in diamonds, a small amethyst and diamond brooch, a small antique miniature set in pearls, and another pearl brooch—I don't think we missed anything but that property, which was lying about on the dressing-table—of that property I have only since seen the amethyst and diamond brooch and the small miniature set in pearls—they are my wife's property, and are of the value, roughly speaking, of £10—the pearls round the miniature have a certain value, and the miniature is beautifully painted—about a week after the burglary, and when I was abroad, an envelope came for me containing one of Mrs. Buxton's small gold trinkets off her watch-chain—it was only worth a few shillings, but bore an inscription in memory of a deceased friend—that inscription only gives initials—in the interval the police had advertised our loss, I heard—I afterwards went outside, and found, at the foot of the ladder, an old stocking, with some cardboard at the foot end—it could be put over an arm and hand.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. It was a very windy night—I cannot say if it was a wet, windy afternoon; it was not raining at night.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. The thieves went directly to the right place to find the valuable property—one drawer, under the looking-glass on the dressing-table, had been opened, and something taken out—the time was very well chosen; the servants were at the other end of the house—it was the usual hour at which they went to supper—whoever broke in may have known something of the habits of my house, or other houses of the kind—this robbery was done while my servants were at supper.
Re-examined. No lights would be seen from the outside of the house, because the lighted rooms, the drawing-room and library, had shutters over the windows—people outside might see lights through the chinks—the windows above were dark—they would not see the servants going to their own place—a room facing Mrs. Buxton's, at the other end, was occupied by a young gentleman staying with us; at the time he was downstairs—he had left a florin on his looking-glass, and that was taken—the other dressing-room was occupied by one of my daughters.
By MR. LAWLESS. I do not know that I am represented here by anyone except the Treasury—I have not employed a solicitor in the matter.
MR. BESLEY stated that the Godstone justices had instructed Messrs. Hood and Co. to prosecute.
MARY EMMA BUXTON . The only stolen article omitted by my husband is a small tortoiseshell box with a silver label and an inscription; it contained the miniature and pearl necklace—this is the miniature, the pearl necklace I have not recovered—they were lying on the dressing-table—no drawers were broken open, but the bow of my watch was found in a drawer—it is not my practice to leave my jewellery in this way, but I had by accident left my diamond bracelet which I generally wore and my watch which I wear every day—things I habitually wear I should leave on my dressing-table—I recognise this amethyst and diamond brooch and this miniature—it was a windy, blustery night; I don't know whether it rained; we were out that afternoon—I know nothing of the prisoners or any strangers being in the house.
JAMES BRYCE (Superintendent of Police, Godstone). I conducted the inquiry before the Magistrate—I was in attendance last Session—I found that Godden was ill—he is very ill indeed now; I saw him last Saturday lying in a bath chair; he could not stand—he was a gardener in Mr. Buxton's service—I have not seen him since; he was suffering from some spinal complaint—about two a.m on 6th April information was given to me of this burglary—I got to The Ledgers about five a.m., and examined the premises—I found that the dressing-room window on the north side had been broken—there was a hole large enough for a man's hand to go through—brown paper was adhering to the glass with some paste that had the appearance of Liebig's extract of meat—about thirty yards off, under a tree on the lawn, I found more brown paper and paste similar to that on the glass—the ladder had been taken away at that time—I saw the place where it had been—there were several footprints there, footprints of two or three persons—I am quite certain two persons had been there, and I think probably three—the ladder, when I saw it round by the farm buildings, was 150 or 200 yards from the place where it had been used—one man could carry it, but it would be a good load for him—I circulated the description of the lost property at Scotland Yard and throughout the country in the Police Gazette—that included the trinket with the inscription, and connected it with the burglary at Mr. Burton's—on 6th April I received information that three strange men had been seen—only a very vague description was given of them—I saw Godden, the gardener, on the subject on the following day, I think—he gave me no description—he said he should know one of them—after the case was closed at Godstone I knew of Matthews, a labourer—I did not know he was in Court when the case was on there—he was there—he is a witness now—he made a statement to me—I instructed Mr. Hood, the solicitor for the prosecution, to send an account to the prisoners of what Matthews said—I have general authority from the Godstone Bench to have legal aid and instruct a solicitor, and I laid this case before Mr. Hood—on 25th June Gilmour was brought in custody to Godstone—Ward was brought there on 28th June—when Gilmour was brought in I said to him, "You know what you are charged with?"—he said, "Yes"—when Ward was brought in I said, "You know what you are charged with?"—he said, "Yes"—the charge was not put on the charge-sheet then.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. On July 2nd, the day of the Police-court proceedings, I saw Matthews after the hearing—he was having a general conversation with other constables and myself respecting the two prisoners—I have had charge of this case from April 6th—I had made inquiries, to endeavour to get a description, of three men all over the neighbourhood—Godden was in Mr. Buxton's employment at that time—I had a conversation with him after the burglary—I had not seen Matthews then—I think I saw all Mr. Buxton's servants—Matthews was not one of his servants; he was working on the highway—I had seen Matthews before, but never had any conversation with him—between April 6th and July 2nd this burglary was well talked of in the neighbourhood; I read about it in the local papers—Matthews is sixty years old, I should say; he works on the road for the parish.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Godstone, where I am stationed, is seven miles from Chelsham—Caterham is the nearest Police-station to
Chelsham—I and my men, from the moment we got the information, were making inquiries in and about Chelsham—I saw various people—no one else was arrested on this charge to my knowledge—Matthews lives in Warlingham, I believe, the parish adjoining Chelsham—at this time he was working on the road near The Ledgers—he first spoke to me on 2nd July, after the case had been closed, and the prisoners committed for trial—I did not take any statement from him then—I took a statement from him about three weeks ago—I had not taken any statement from him when this case was coining on for trial last Session—I should not have taken it now if Godden had been able to be here—it was because Godden was ill and not able to be here that Matthews was brought as a witness—the case would have been tried last Session, but, owing to Godden's illness, it was postponed, in hopes that he would he well enough to come and give evidence—I first wrote to Mr. Hood, the solicitor for the prosecution, and put the case into his hands, on 2nd July, I believe, after the committal—I don't think I wrote to him later than the 3rd—Mr. Hood's office is at Croydon, seven miles away; a letter from me would reach him in a few hours—Mr. Hood there and then consented to take up the prosecution—I saw him some time afterwards at the Petty Sessions—he did not then tell me that before I had written to him, and after, he was in communication with Ward, and was likely to act as his solicitor—he told me last Session that Ward's wife had been to him—he did not tell me that he had had an interview with Ward in Holloway Prison on 3rd July—all he told me was that he had seen Ward's wife—I last saw Godden on Saturday—I have no medical knowledge—I have not brought any doctor who has seen him—I told Godden he must get a certificate—he was sitting in a bath chair outside to get some air last Saturday, and I could see that he was very seriously ill—he was suffering from spinal disease he told me; I could see he could not stand on his legs—I do not know from my own knowledge what he suffered from.
Re-examined. He could not move; he had no use of his legs—I could see that.
By the COURT. I saw him five weeks previously to last Saturday, before the last Session in October—he was then in bed—I was present when the depositions were signed—this is Godden's signature, and this at the end of the depositions is Mr. Glyn's, the committing Magistrate's—when Godden gave evidence the prisoners had an opportunity of questioning him. (MR. BESLEY proposed to read Godden's deposition. MR. LAWLESS objected, upon the ground that there was not sufficient evidence that Godden was so ill as not to be able to appear as a witness. R. v. Weldon, 4 Cox; Q. v. Ball, 12 Cox. After hearing MR. BESLEY, the COMMON SERJEANT, while expressing his surprise that a medical man was not called, ruled that the admissibility of the deposition was a question of fact for his discretion, and that there was sufficient evidence for him to admit it.
The deposition of Godden was read as follows: "I reside at Chelsham. On 5th April last I was gardener to Mr. Buxton. On that date, at ten minutes to two in the afternoon, I saw the prisoner Ward pass my house in company with another man. I could not swear if Gilmour was the other man. They were going in the direction of Worms Heath, I think. I think the build of Ward's companion very much like Gilmour.
He had no beard then. I saw both prisoners on Friday last, and I identified Ward.
Cross-examined by Ward. I swear you are the man I saw."
JAMES BRYCE (Cross-examination by MR. LAWLESS, continued). The prisoners were before the Magistrates on Monday, July 2nd—Godden says that he saw Ward on the previous Friday at our Police-station—he and one of Mr. Buxton's maids and another man saw Ward in the cell by himself—I opened the cell door and there he was—his coat was off; he was in his shirt sleeves—they came to the station because they heard that men were arrested and charged with the burglary on April 5th, three months before—the maid and the other man failed to identify Ward, but Godden said he knew him—the man who came with Godden and the maid did not come to identify; he only came in company with the other two—he asked Ward to speak; Ward did so, and then the man turned away, and came to me and said, "I have never seen the man before."
By MR. HUTTON. Gilmour was at the station at that time in another cell—Godden came and stood in the passage and looked at Gilmour, who remained in the cell—Godden did not identify him.
Re-examined. The prisoners were not shown to Matthews—the second man who came had heard someone speak on a previous occasion, and wanted to hear Ward's voice to know if he was the same man—it was with reference to this matter—when he heard Ward speak he said he could not say he was the man.
JAMES MATTHEWS . I have-worked for many years, without having any regular engagement, for Mr. Daniels, a stockbroker, and the owner of The Ledgers—Mr. Buxton occupied that house up to April this year—he did not employ me—I was employed on the road—I knew the premises and the outbuildings well when I worked there—I do not know the ladder that was used to get in at the window—a ladder used to be kept by Mr. Daniels in the hay barn in the stack yard—on 5th April I was working all day up to five p.m. on the road; not at Mr. Buxton's, but not half a mile away—while I was at work I saw two respectable-looking young men coming up past me, at something past two, I suppose—they walked beyond me, it might be nearly 100 yards; they did not walk out of my sight—at the end of about 100 yards they sat down on the grass for about half an hour, I should say—I could see them all the time they were sitting there—they had come from the direction of Mr. Buxton's lodge past me—when they got up from the grass they came down the road again, and stopped by me, and one of them with brown clothes asked me the time, and I told them a quarter past three by my watch—they were side by side, and one heard the other; they were standing still, close to me—I cannot say a quarter past three was the exact time; I gave it to them by my watch, which I took out and looked at—they then went down the road again towards Mr. Buxton's place—on 2nd July I went to the Godstone Justice Room, when Mr. Glyn had the two prisoners before him charged with this burglary—I saw them brought out into the Court, and I knew they were the two men who came to me in the road at Chelsham—I recognised them at once—I was standing in Court when they came out of the cells—after they had been committed for trial I spoke to several policemen in the hearing of Brice outside the Godstone Justice Room, and
told them they were the two men I had seen in the roadway—I spoke to the policeman who brought the prisoners out of the cell.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. The Chelsham policeman brought me word that I had to go to the Justice Room—I did not know whether I was going to see two men tried for committing a burglary on the 5th April—I told the man at Chelsham next day that I had seen two young men—I saw Godden and Mr. Buxton's servants—on 5th April Gilmour had no beard—he had a moustache; I did not notice if he had whiskers—he had not the same hair on his face when he came to me in the road as he had at Godstone—I gave a description of the men next day to Mr. Buxton's servants—the only policeman to whom I gave a description before 2nd July was the Chelsham policeman; he talked to me about them—I told him no more than that I should know the men again if I saw them—I cannot say what he asked me—the Chelsham policeman is my neighbour; I know him quite well—I saw them at the Justice Room, and heard they were charged with committing burglary on 5th April—I had given a description of how the men I saw were dressed—Gilmour had brown clothes and a hard billycock hat, and Ward had dark clothes and a light cap—I cannot say what coloured tie Gilmour had—I did not tell all that to the police that I know of—I and the Chelsham policeman talked together—I took great notice of the men when they came by me—I cannot say how they were dressed when they were in the dock at the Justice Room; I did not go by the dress but by their features—I did not notice if one of the men had a beard—I did not say I thought it was them; I knew they were the men who came to me at Chelsham—I looked at Gilmour's face—he had no hat on when he came out of the cells—I did not notice if he had a beard then—he had altered about the face, but I at once recognised him as the man—the Chelsham policeman brought me word to go to the Justice Room; he did not tell me anything about the men, only that I had to go to Godstone—I did not ask him what for—I did not know then what I was going for—I did not know till I got to Godstone—the man that fetched the prisoners out of the cells said, "You come with me into the Court"—I said, "What for?"—he said, "You look at these two young men when I bring them out, and see if you know them again as you did on the road"—no one asked me anything—I was told to observe the two men as they came out—I did not know what they were accused of.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I was repairing the road, working as usual—I work by the day—one of the two men had a moustache—I don't think the other had much, if he had any; he was younger, and had not much hair on his face—he might have had a little—I did not take particular notice of the men on the 5th April; I looked at them, and when they came back and spoke to me, of course I did notice them—they were not speaking to me for very long—neither man had a beard; one had a moustache, I cannot say if the other had; I did not go quite close to him to see—I heard about the burglary the next day—Mr. Buxton's servants came up the road where I was working, and they told me of it—I had not heard about it till then—I told them about having seen two men the day before—I might have told the Chelsham policeman that I had seen two men; I did not do so that day, because I did not see him, or the next—I saw a policeman come down there the next day, but I did not
speak to him—I told the Chelsham policeman some time, but not that day—I do not know that I told any other policeman of it—between 5th April and the end of June people used to talk about this burglary; I did not—it was not in consequence of my telling the Chelsham policeman that I had seen two men that he asked me to come to the Court on the 2nd July; he told me he had orders for me to go to Godstone—he told me no more than that—I did not know what I had got to go for—he knew there was a Court there, and so did I—I did not know two men had been arrested for the burglary—Godden drove me to Godstone in a trap he did not tell me what I was going for exactly; he told me these young men were locked up at Godstone—before the case was heard a policeman said I was to go into the room and he would bring the two men out—the two men were brought out, and I recognised them—after I had seen them we were ordered out of Court—I did not tell the policeman anything when he brought the prisoners out; I did afterwards outside.
WILLIAM GOUGH (Detective, Scotland Yard). I had information of burglaries at Watford and Tunbridge Wells—I was present when Gilmour was taken into custody on suspicion of other charges, not this charge, on May 29th—I went with him to King Street Police-station, Westminster—Ward was brought in in custody there—I did not hear either of them say anything—they were detained and put up for identification, but witnesses failed to identify them, and they were discharged the next day—I saw Sergeant McCarthy search Ward and take from him this key—I had had both prisoners under my observation for two or three months before May 29th—I had seen them together on three occasions—on May 24th I saw them in Hyde Park, close to the Marble Arch; Ward came up from Hyde Park Corner and joined Gilmour in a crowd at a sort of meeting there—they walked together to the middle of the Park where there was no one, and had a consultation for five or six minutes—I was not near enough to see if they were speaking, but they were close together and remained stationary for five or six minutes—then they separated; Ward came away first, and Gilmour walked forty or fifty yards behind him, and then one of them took a seat—on April 4th I saw them standing still together at Hanway Street, Tottenham Court Road—then they called at a place for letters—one went into a shop, and one stood outside; then they walked to Hanway Street, where Gilmour went on and Ward remained—I have no note of the third time I saw them together; but I followed them then from a house near the Elephant and Castle to Liverpool Street, where they took train to Newmarket; that was before April—I was present on June 28th when Ward was arrested on this charge as he was going into his house, Este Road, Battersea.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Gilmour was arrested on the first occasion about nine a.m., and I think he was released the same night—about three or four people were called for the purpose of identification—I don't think a great number of detectives were called in to see them—I was at Scotland Yard that morning, except for about five minutes when I was at the station for the identification—the prisoners were under my observation in Hyde Park for between half an hour and an hour—they were under my sight from five to ten minutes in Hanway Street, and for about
half an hour on the third occasion—those were the only occasions I saw them together, and those were altogether under two hours—any detectives could come and see them when they were at the station, and anyone could come across from Scotland Yard and see them; but, notwithstanding that, they were released the same night.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Nothing like so many as 100 detectives saw the prisoners when they were first arrested—I was only five minutes at King Street when the prisoners were there to be identified—I understood that all the detectives who saw them called at Scotland Yard before and after they saw them, and I should think about twenty detectives called at Scotland Yard.
Re-examined. Three or four, or four or five witnesses, not detectives, saw the prisoners—three came from Watford, and one from Tunbridge Wells, I think, with reference to two cases of suspicion—I think the Chief Constable came from Tunbridge Wells, and an officer came in charge of the witnesses from Watford—the detectives who went over did so casually to learn-their features.
By MR. LAWLESS. For that identification the prisoners were placed among about twelve persons answering their description as nearly as possible—that is the way we generally carry out identification in London.
JOHN McCARTHY (Detective Sergeant, Scotland Yard). I was present when the prisoners were taken into custody with reference to burglaries at Watford and Tunbridge Wells—I brought Ward into the King Street Station from Este Road—Gilmour was brought in at the same time—they were detained a considerable time for witnesses to come up from Tunbridge and Watford to see them—eight or nine came altogether—I searched Ward, and found on him, among other things, this key—Ward said confidentially to me, when Gilmour was standing alongside of, and a few feet from him, so that he might have heard him, "Who is this joint? I don't know him"—I said, "That is between yourselves; I don't know anything about that"—I am not sure Gilmour heard that; he could have heard if he was listening—when we spoke about the key Ward said, "That key I found in a train with an old pair of gloves; the gloves I threw away"—Gilmour could have heard that; it was said audibly and not in a whisper in the charge room at King Street—they were detained till a quarter to ten p.m., and then discharged—in the interval we had sent to Tunbridge Wells and Watford—I afterwards arrested both prisoners—Gilmour, I and Brogan took in St. George's Circus, close to the Surrey Theatre—at that time I had had a conversation with Ryan—I said to Gilmour when he was in custody, on 25th June, "You know who I am; I am going to arrest you now for being concerned in a burglary at Chelsham on 5th April. The property we found in a safe in Chancery Lane has been identified as part of the property stolen"—Ward's name was not mentioned then—I said, "The key opening the safe that has been found, we have ascertained belonged to you"—he made no reply of any kind—I think he knew the key had been found on Ward—he was present on 29th May, and saw it found on Ward—I said "The key found on Ward opens the safe; we find it belongs to you"—he made no reply—I was with Gough when Ward was taken on 27th June as he was about entering his house at Este Road—I wrote down his statement—he said, "I will go with you, but if I had
done anything wrong I would have given you some trouble"—he was conveyed in a cab, and on the way I explained to him about the key of the safe being identified as Gilmour's—he said, "I know nothing about that. I found the key and a pair of gloves in the train. If this man" (referring to Gilmour) "had any crooked stuff in the safe, he must have been a fool to leave it there"—crooked stuff is a slang expression for stolen property—he was conveyed to King Street, and there he and Gilmour were handed over to Southcott to be conveyed to Godstone.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. Ward said in my presence, not to me, when arrested the second time, that he had done some commissions at races for Gilmour—Gough did not give evidence till they were at Godstone—I did not say to Ward on the 29th May, in a confidential way, "Do you know this fellow, Jim?"—he did not say "No"—Ward's Christian name is Jim—I have always known him as Jim Ward—he said, "Who is this joint?"—that was not in answer to what I said—I took him into custody on the second occasion entering his house in Este Road, where he was arrested the first time—when he Paid, "I should have given you some trouble if I had done anything wrong, "I did not think he meant that he would have gone away—I have seen him at race meetings—three of us went to arrest him on the second occasion—we do not usually require three men to arrest one—perhaps twenty-five detectives were brought to see him on the first occasion—he was not identified, but was allowed to go.
Re-examined. I was present when the drawer of the safe was opened on 30th May, at the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit, by Mr. Ryan, with this key—amongst other things we found there this miniature and the brooch—Detective Jarvis was present—the things found corresponded with the description circulated in April in our police information—there were also in the drawer of the safe circular tickets for watches and diamond rings pledged—the tickets have all expired—the Safe Deposit have the things. (During the adjournment for luncheon the witness was directed to bring the drawer and its contents from the Safe Deposit Company)—I have now been to the Safe Deposit Company, and have seen the safe opened with the key I found on Ward, and I produce these articles as being contained therein: a silver snuff-box; small cameo brooch set on velvet; a promissory note for £35 given by N. Meyer, 16, Regent Street, to John Lyons, and dated 21st April 1893; a bank book on the Birkbeck Bank in the name of Mr. George Gilmour—the only entry in it is 25th October, 1893, "By draft £300"; the articles identified by Mr. Buxton; a pocket-book containing memoranda; a wallet such as is used by diamond merchants, containing twelve packages of various stones; they were supposed to be diamonds and rubies, but have been pronounced worthless; a lease of the safe in the name of John Lyons; nine pawn contracts for a diamond horseshoe pin pledged on 7th March, 1893, for £9; two half-hoop diamond rings pledged on 14th March, 1893, for £4 and £9; and for diamonds and watches, all in March, 1893, and at two places—there are tickets for two gold watches pledged in April, 1893, and a diamond ring and watch in March, 1893, and also telegrams and memoranda.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I have been to the pawnbrokers, and made inquiries about the articles—the only charge against Gilmour is in respect of the two articles identified by Mr. Buxton—when on the first
occasion Ward said in Gilmour's presence that he had found the key, Gilmour was standing a few feet from him in the charge room—two or three of the police were there at the time, and talking was going on; the men were just going out on night duty—Gilmour said nothing.
WILLIAM RYAN . I am supervisor of the Chancery Lane Safe Deposit Company—we let safes—this lease of a safe dated 24th March, 1893, is filled up in my writing, and signed by Mr. Clarke, the then proprietor—the other signature, John Lyons, is that of the prisoner Gilmour; I knew him as Lyons—before the expiration of the lease the rent was paid up in advance to March, 1895—I have had several conversations with the prisoner—I should say at first he came to visit the safe once a fortnight on an average—it is my duty to see that persons who come are identified as the individuals who rent particular safes—either I or someone else identified him whenever he came; I personally attended him at the safe several times myself—I knew when he opened the safe—he gave the address first of 157, Great Titchfield Street—when he renewed the lease on July 20th, 1893, and paid another year's rent, he remarked that he had no address, as he was travelling—he came after that down to May 26th, 1894, at 2.30 p m.—that was his last visit—he came very frequently, to the best of my recollection, during April and May, 1894, but I cannot say how often without reference to the books—when the police came the drawer was opened in the presence of one of our directors, who is a Magistrate, and by order of the Commissioners of Police—at Godstone Gilmour asked me if there was any authority, or by what authority, the safe was opened, and I replied, "I think it was opened in the presence of one of my directors"—I had not then in my pocket the authority of the Police Commissioners for opening it, but I have it now—to the best of my recollection Gilmour put no other questions—I do not know Ward at all; I have not seen him to my knowledge.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Gilmour used to come at all times of the day; there was no secret about it—it is a limited company now.
JAMES SOUTHCOTT (Sergeant Surrey Constabulary). I am stationed at Caterham—upon receipt of a telegram I went to Scotland Yard on 25th June, where I found Gilmour in custody—he was handed over to me—I told him he would be charged with burglary at Chelsham on 5th April, during the night—he said nothing—I took him to Caterham and handed him over to Bryce—on 28th I got another telegram, and went to Scotland Yard again, and there found Ward in custody—I told him he would be charged in connection with Gilmour for the robbery at Chelsham—he said be knew Gilmour; he was a turf commission agent, and he had done two or three bets for him—I searched Ward's house on 29th June, and in the cupboard upstairs I found a life preserver—in the front room upstairs I found this instrument, a safe opener, which by working the screw will push a thing open, or will pull it together by working it the other way—you could break two iron railings with it—I took it to the Godstone Police-station and showed it to the superintendent, who asked Ward how he came into possession of it—he said he was going to pull some boards together and do a bit of carpentering; he said nothing about the life preserver.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWLESS. I have known a carpenter's stock of tools—I never saw an instrument like this in a carpenter's possession—
this would not do to pull boards together; it is not wide enough to take boards in—the irons carpenters use to put floorboards down are much larger—they work at different angles, and are different shapes—boards in the deck of a ship are thinner than those in the floor of a house—I do not know what they use for putting down ships' decks—I am not an expert in carpentering.
MARY CORPS . I was employed as housemaid at The Ledgers on 5th April—on that night, at twenty minutes to ten, I went upstairs to Mrs. Buxton's bedroom, which adjoined the one entered by the ladder, to take some water—I saw a man by the bedside; he seemed to be getting off his knees—he rose to his feet and told me to get away, and he went out of the room and along the passage and into the further room occupied by the gentleman; not the one where the ladder was—that was the last I saw of him—I went and told the footman—a few minutes afterwards Mr. Buxton went upstairs—nothing more was seen of the man—there was only a light from the passage—I should not like to swear to the man I saw; he was clean shaven, and had a cap on—I have been at Mrs. Buxton's eight years on and off—the man was a stranger; he had no business in the house.
Gilmour, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he hoped to be able to give a satisfactory account of how the property traced to him came into his possession.
Witnesses for Ward.
PHILIP WARD . I am Ward's cousin—I have been employed for the last six years as a printer and folder at the Field newspaper—Ward worked there with me for about three years, up to about eighteen months ago—he left to go horseracing, I believe—he was a warehouseman at the Field and Queen—on Wednesday, April 4th, I saw him in Peele's Hotel, at the corner of Fetter Lane and Fleet Street, between one and two, my dinner-time—I asked him to lend me half a sovereign—I wanted it to back a horse with at Warwick Races, which were on that week—he said he had not got it then; he told me to call at night time at Este Road, Battersea—I said I could not, as I was working all night; I always work all night every Wednesday night—on Thursday, the 5th, I went round to Ward's place at night—I had told him I would call at his place then—I left our shop at Bream's Buildings at twenty minutes to seven, and got to Ward's close on half-past eight—I saw a young lady there, Alice Piddock, who answered the door—she said they expected Ward in every minute—I went up to the corner and waited about half an hour, and then had a drink, and went back to the house, and I saw Ward, and he gave me the money I asked him for, and then I came away—the race on which I put the 10s. was on Friday, 6th—I work Wednesday night and Thursday consecutively—when they want us we have to stop.
Cross-examined. I think it was on Saturday, June 30th, that I first heard my cousin was suspected of burglaries—I did not hear anything about the Watford or Tunbridge Wells burglaries; I don't believe Ward would do such a thing—I did not know of the finding of a key, which connected him with the safe and the stolen property—I first heard of his
being suspected of any burglary when I took some money down to his place on 30th June, Saturday, and was told he had gone to gaol, I believe—I did not ask in reference to what date he was suspected—I remembered 5th April by my hocking the horse on the 6th—Ward's wife asked if I remembered the date I borrowed, the money—the horse I backed was Timperley in the Town Plate on Friday—I got someone to back it for me—I should not have backed it if I had not been pressed to do so; they were so confident about it—my cousin does not advise me—I backed it to win only—that was the only bet I ever made in my life—I should have known if it had won—I know where it came in—I had a paper the same night to see how it ran—his wife asked, and I went and got the paper to make sure of it again—I never made a bet in my life before—when Ward's wife told me he was in custody and asked me if I remembered April 5th, she did not tell me I had better go and give evidence—I took an interest in his being committed for trial—I don't know anything about Godstone—I never heard of his being committed for trial from there—I saw his wife again about a month after she asked me if I could remember April 5th, I think—June 30th was the first time my attention was attracted to April 5th—I did not go to the races—I did not get a ticket from the man I made the bet with, as a rule you do not get a ticket—I know that because you can see it being done every day at the place where I work—you give a ticket-and the money—Mr. Harris is the man I employed to make the bet, and he took the money—he walks about Fetter Lane; I see him every day while the races are on—I have seen him since June 30th—I have not brought him here.
Re-examined. He walks about outside a public-house—this was a tip I got from a friend; the horse was second—I went to pay the prisoner some money on June 30th, and then heard he was in custody—I do not often see my cousin.
ALICE PIDDOCK . I live at 12, Osmond Street, Southwark Bridge Road—in April this year I was in the service of Mrs. Clare, at 15, Carlyle Mansions, Victoria Street—I am a sister of Ward's wife—on Thursday, April 5th, I was at Este Road, Battersea—I remember it, because I am out every Thursday afternoon and evening; I only go out once a week—I spent the afternoon and evening of April 5th with my sister—there was some talk about going to the Furniture Exhibition at the Agricultural Hall, but we did not go—Ward came in about four or a little after—he had tea, and went out about five—he was going to draw some money that he had won that day—I asked my sister what races were on, and she said, "Warwick"—he returned about 9.20, or it might have been 9.30—before he returned young Mr. Philip Ward called—I had seen him perhaps once before—I answered the door, and there was some conversation, and he went away—he did not return—he met Ward outside, so Ward told us when we told him he had been—I left at 9.50, to catch the train from Clapham Junction to Victoria—Ward and my sister went with me to the station, and left me there.
Cross-examined. My brother-in-law is a betting-man—I did not know Gilmour—I am allowed out every Thursday afternoon and evening by my mistress—I know nothing about the burglary at The Ledgers—I was not told anything about it—I appreciate that I come to prove an alibi—I
could not tell you when I first knew that I came to prove an alibi on 5th April—I was here last Session—I knew then that I had to come to prove an alibi—I did not know of Ward's being at Godstone on 2nd July—I should think about a fortnight before last Session I knew my evidence would be important to an alibi—I heard some time afterwards about Ward being taken up on 29th May—my sister told me about the key, nothing more—that was all I knew about it—she said he had a key that did not belong to him; that was all—all she asked me was could, I remember her husband's cousin coming there on a certain day in the early part of the year?—I saw no money on that day.
By the COURT. I always go to my sister's every Sunday and every Thursday throughout the year; I never go anywhere else—this day is fixed in my mind, because we were going to the Agricultural Hall, and we did not go—that is all I remember it by—I was first asked to come here as a witness to prove an alibi a fortnight before I was here last Session—I was first asked in June, as soon as Ward was taken, whether I could remember anything about 5th April, and I said "Yes"; I said, "Don't you remember we were going to the Furniture Exhibition at the Agricultural Hall that day?" and she said, "How do you know it was?"—"Because," I said, "it was the first day it opened; I think 5th April"—that was all that passed; she did not call any other circumstance to my mind to fix the day—that was all I remembered at that time as fixing that day in my mind—that very day it came to my mind that Ward, the cousin, came—I was going to say so before, and you would not give me time—I told that to my sister-in-law in June.
WILLIAM RYAN (Re-examined by the COURT.) The police first came and mode an examination of the safe on 29th May; they examined the whole of the property, but removed nothing—Gilmour's last visit was on 26th May, 1894—the books would show on what other days before that he was there; it would entail a search of one or two hours—we give keys to our customers, and we can tell by the numbers on them to whom they belong.
GUILTY .—Sergeant McCarthy stated that a photograph of Gilmour had been sent to Australia, and that the police authorities had received a communication from Australia to the effect that Gilmour was identical with Henry Palmer, alias George Sweeny, whose criminal history ran through twenty-one years in that country, that he had served two terms of three, and one of five, years' penal servitude there, and that he had been in this country three or four years; that no convictions were known against Ward, but that the police had suspected him, and kept him under observation.
GILMOUR— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. WARD— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ATTENBOROUGH Prosecuted MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and TURNER
HENRY GEORGE MUSKETT . I am assistant to Mr. Robertson, pawnbroker, of 209, Blackfriars Road—I have had twenty-two years' experience—on September 7th a man, giving the name of J. Georger, asked me to lend him as near £4 as I could upon this chain—he said it was fifteen carat gold, and that he bought it in Holland—
there is some foreign mark upon it, but no English hall-mark—I tested it by rubbing it on a stone and putting acid to it, and it stood the test for fifteen carat gold—I then filed it and found base metal under a coating of gold—this is the file mark; I made two—I told him it was not gold, and I should detain it—he asked me for a receipt for the chain—I told him I could not give him one, but if he liked to fetch a constable in I should hand it to him to make his own inquiries—he went out and in about a quarter of an hour came back with Bryan—I explained to Bryan, and showed him it was not a gold chain—I handed it to him, and they left together—its value is about a sovereign.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have two chains here—I am speaking of the crb chain—Georger came about eleven a.m.—he is twenty-six or twenty-seven years old—he came into the jewellery shop, the best lighted part—no other person was in that part of the shop—I had full opportunity of examining the chain—I thought it was a swindle—I said at the Police-court that I said to the constable, "Take it to the Police-station and make inquiries about it and him"—I do not know whether Georger has gone to America—some chains are hollow, and some are filled with resin, copper, or silver—a gold chain may be hollow, but a chain described as a "solid gold chain" is solid right through—if filled up it would be sold as "cased," not as gold—we test gold by aqua fortis, and silver with nitric acid—the chain would fetch about 10s. to be melted—pawnbrokers advance nearly the full value—I have never had a similar chain offered to me.
Re-examined. In advancing upon a chain we are guided by the weight to a large extent—after the constable arrived Georger said, "Yes, it is filled with silver."
SAMUEL BRYAN (49 M). On September 7th I was on duty in Charlotte Street, Blackfriars—a man who afterwards told me his name was Georger came to me and said he had taken a chain to Mr. Robertson, 109, Blackfriars Road, and it was detained, and the pawnbroker had refused to give him any money or the chain back—I went back to Robertson's with him, when Muskett showed me this chain, and said Georger had brought it, and represented it to be gold, but he had examined it, and found it was simply base metal cased with gold—Muskett filed it, and put some acid on it, and showed me the effect—I took possession of the chain—Georger went out with me—I met Constable White—I made a communication to him, and gave him the chain.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Georger told me he bought the chain in Holland, and had got the receipt at Stockwell—I inquired where he lived—he said at 5, St. Martin's Road, Stockwell—I have heard that is the correct address—I was eighty to a hundred yards from Muskett's when Georger spoke to me—I do not recollect Georger telling Muskett the chain was filled with silver—possibly he said it—he was willing to go to the station if I wanted him.
Re-examined. Georger wanted to get his chain back—I did not make the inquiries respecting his address.
ALBERT WHITE (274 M). On September 7th, about midday, I was in Blackfriars Road—I saw Bryan and Georger—Bryan said in Georger's presence, "This man has taken a chain to Robertson's, the pawnbroker's at Blackfriars Road, and offered it there to pledge, and the manager, Mr. Muskett,
has examined the chain and found it was a brass one, thickly plated with gold"—I asked for Georger's name and address, and Bryan gave me Georger's card—Georger then said, "That is my business address; my private address is No. 5, St. Martin's Road, Stockwell." (Card read: "J. Georger and Co., Manufacturing Chemists, 149, Waterloo Road, S.E.")—I asked Georger where he got the chain from, and he said, "From Holland," and he paid £4 for it—I asked him if he had got a receipt for it—he said, "Yes, it is at my address at Stockwell, and you can see it if you like"—Bryan handed the chain to me—I gave it him back, and advised him to give it to Georger—he did so, and in consequence of a communication from Muskett, I said, "Georger, never you attempt to pledge this chain again; if you do you will get yourself into serious trouble"—he said, "I should not think of doing such a thing."
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Muskett did not charge him—I cautioned Georger because being a foreigner I thought he did not know the offence he would commit if he attempted to pledge the chain—I never saw the prisoner till I saw him at the Police-court—Georger showed me three envelopes with his address on, one of that date—I said, "I shall be round to Waterloo Road to make inquiries"—I went about ten minutes afterwards and found the address was correct—I believe the Stockwell address was correct—Bryan told me Muskett had said the chain was brass thickly plated with gold—I was in uniform—Georger made no attempt to deceive me.
By the COURT. I am employed in plain clothes in the winter and in uniform in summer.
Re-examined. I don't know Georger's address now.
ROBERT HERBERT JACK . I am assistant to Mr. Bull, pawnbroker, of No. 5, Bishopsgate Street—I remember Georger coming on September 7th about three p.m.—he handed this chain in and said be wanted £3 10s. on it—I scraped it with a knife, applied acid, and found brass under-neath, with a coating of gold not particularly thick—before testing it I asked him whose it was—he said it was his—I asked him what it was supposed to be, and he said it was fourteen carat Dutch gold—I refused when he asked me to give it back—he repeated the statement that it was fourteen carat Dutch gold—he said he had an invoice for it—he went away and brought back this invoice—Mr. Bull came in in the first instance and joined in the conversation with Georger—Georger went away and came a third time with the prisoner who said it was a gold chain, he had sent Georger with it—I could not say Leek told me, but I understood Georger was his son—Leek demanded the chain—Mr. Bull tested the chain before Leek, and showed him where the brass showed through; it was quite green—Leek said he did not know the effect of chemicals on metals, and demanded it back, and Mr. Bull refused.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. No other customer was in the same compartment—I had full opportunity of examining the chain, and of seeing Georger—I told Georger the chain was a duffer—that was before Leek came in—I did not say I thought it was a swindle—Leek took proceedings for the recovery of the chain—I was not a witness—to test it I rubbed it on the stone and applied acid—aqua fortis or nitric acid will test silver—I noticed other marks after testing—I had plenty of opportunity of examining the chain—we could not fill up the marks of
a file, possibly the manufacturers could—a gold chain may be described as solid gold, or gold; but a gold chain need not be solid gold—I might properly describe a fourteen carat chain as a gold chain, but I should not sell this as a solid chain—I never saw chains filled with copper or silver and covered with gold sold as gold chains—nitric acid would turn silver to a sort of brownish colour, and brass perfectly green—the part of this chain with verdigris on it is of that peculiar colour which it has when tested with nitric acid—I never bought such a chain—it is worth about £1 to the trade—I am not an expert.
Re-examined. I cannot imagine an honest tradesman selling as a gold chain a chain simply plated—we do not advance money on plated chains.
WALTER BULL . I am a pawnbroker, of 5, Bishopsgate Street Without—I came into the shop immediately after Georger produced this chain to Jack—he asked £3 10s. upon it, and repeated the demand to myself—he said it was fine gold—I tested it with a file, and applied acid, and found the interior was base metal—my impression was he said it was silver, but he said it was not silver—I asked him whose it was—he said he brought it for a friend—I told him I should detain the chain, and requested him to fetch his friend—he went away and came back with the invoice—he went away again, and brought back Leek, who said that the chain was Dutch fine gold, and that Georger was sent by him to pledge it for him—Dutch fine gold is fifteen to sixteen carat, probably eighteen—Leek demanded his chain back—I showed him where I had filed it—when he saw the action of the acid upon it he said, "I have no knowledge of chemicals upon metals"—they went away—I detained the chain, and Leek summoned me—this is the summons—I appeared to defend before Alderman Morgan—there was no order—I handed the chain to the police—from many years' experience in the pawnbroking trade as valuer, I should say its value was £1 at the outside.
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I do not think the trade would give £1 for it to sell across the counter—it is worth £1, because there is a portion of gold in it, or upon it—it is not worth more than £1 to anyone in the market—I would not buy such a chain, only by being taken in by it—nitric acid is my test for silver—I tried it on this—it does not dissolve silver—I am not chemically acquainted with acids—that inkstand, if tested, would turn black, as it is pewter—silver would turn black—other base metals turn green—I never observed any turn yellow.
SYLVESTER RICHARDS . I am assistant clerk at Guildhall Justice Room—I was present when this summons was heard before Alderman Morgan—Mr. Leek gave evidence in support of his case—this is my note of what he said, having been duly sworn: "I reside at 5, St. Martin's Road, Stockwell. I purchased five chains from Jacob Citroers, goldsmith, of Amsterdam. I produce the invoice for them. This is one of the chains. This chain produced by the defendant is my property. It is a fourteen carat gold chain, filled inside with silver. I paid £2 10s. for it. I authorised my son to pawn this chain.
Cross-examined. No. 3 is the chain, price twenty-seven guilden, that is 1s. 8d.; it cost £2 5s. The chains were sent by post. These chains were made to my order; silver chains with gold outside. These are samples. This is one of the samples. This" (produced by the police) "is another. That was given to the police
by another pawnbroker; it cost £2 7s. 6d., and I asked £3 from a pawnbroker for it. I did not ask £3 10s. This" (produced) "is a third chain. That chain I offered in pledge for £2 10s. at Layman's, Borough. This is mentioned in the invoice; it cost 25.50 guilden, £2 2s. 6d. When I pledged it at Layman's I said it was fifteen carat gold. I did not tell Layman it was filled with silver. The gold chain in this case was offered in pledge to defendant by my son; he trades under the name of J. Georger, of 149, Waterloo Road, manufacturing chemist. I told my son to take £2 10s. for this chain, and no less. My son made a statement to me. I went to see defendant. I told Bull that this was a gold chain. I did not say anything about this chain being silver inside. I showed him the invoice produced. Defendant showed me where the chain was filed, and he put some acid on it; he said it was brass. I said it could not be so. I know nothing about the action of chemicals on gold. During the conversation I translated the invoice; at the top are the words, 'filled with silver inside.' This is the translation, 'Gold filled with silver: One gentleman's chain with swivel and bar, 18 guilden; one ditto with ring, 28.50; one ditto, 27; one ditto, 25.50; one ditto, 29.25—128.25.' He declined to give up the chain; he said, 'I should summon him.' I have one of these chains left, No. 5 on the invoice. I have pledged No. 1 chain at a pawnshop in the Borough for £1 10s.; it cost 18 guilden. I did not tell that pawnbroker that the chain was silver inside. These are the only samples of this sort I have had. Re-examined: These are the manufacturing prices; the value of this chain, if all gold, would be £5 or £6. My son did not have the invoice."
Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Leek valued a guilden at 1s. 8d.—he said the chain he pawned in the Borough for 30s. cost 18 guilden and the other one 27 guilden or £2 2s. 5d.
LOUIS VON PRAAG . I live at 1, Newcastle Street, Whitechapel, and am an interpreter, employed by the police—I am acquainted with Dutch—I have made this true translation of this invoice. (This bore the printed heading of an Amsterdam manufacturer of gold chains, and of chains massive, hollow, ornamented, and filled, and other articles, and in it three chains were invoiced.)
Cross-examined. The second item in the invoice (No. 337) is a spring link—the value of a guilden is 1s. 8d., so that, according to the invoice, the prisoner was charged in Holland £2 7s. 2d. as the manufacturer's price for that chain.
EDWARD MORGAN . I am assistant to Mr. Layman, a pawnbroker, at High Street, Borough—on 7th December, at eleven a.m., the prisoner called, and showed me this chain, and asked for a loan of £2 10s. on it—I asked him if it was gold, and what carat it was—he said fifteen—I weighed it, and tested it on a stone, and lent him £2 10s.—I did not know it was only plated with gold, and full of base metal—I have since filed and tested it, and find it is metal, cased with gold—I cannot say what metal is inside its value is about £1.
Cross-examined. I cannot say if any other customer was in my shop when the prisoner came in—no other person was speaking to me—I had every opportunity of examining the chain without anyone else taking up my attention—he gave me this card, "Mr. Leek, 5, St. Martin's Road, S.W."—that is Stockwell—he gave his right name and address—I tested the
chain with nitric acid after tiling it—I should not like to say what is inside—it turns green with nitric acid—silver turns a very dirty grey.
ALFRED HOWELL . I am assistant to Mr. Waterfield, a pawnbroker, of 18, Newington Causeway—on 17th September the prisoner pledged this chain with me in the name of Leek, 5, St. Martin's Road, Stockwell—he asked £2 10s.—I tried it on the stone in the usual way—it stood the test, and I lent him £1 10s.—I have since tested the chain by filing it, and find it is loaded with other metal—I think there is about fifteen shillings' worth of gold in it.
Cross-examined. The pattern is uncommon—I do not think we should allow anything for the workmanship or pattern; we look at the gold—in selling to a customer we should charge not only the absolute cost of materials, but also the workmanship—if the chain were fifteen carat solid gold all through we should charge a customer about £2 for it—it is very common for people to ask more than we give, on jewellery as on other articles—he came about two o'clock—he was in one of the boxes—I was alone—I had full opportunity of examining the chain—no person came up and tried to attract my attention from what was taking place between me and the prisoner—with the most brilliant light in the world I could not have found out that there was base metal inside without filing it.
HENRY SAUNDERS . I am assistant to Mr. Swinfen's executors, pawnbrokers, in the Kingsland Road—on 10th September the prisoner called on me and showed me an Albert chain, and asked for a loan of £3 10s. on it—I asked him what it was—he said it was fifteen carat gold—I tested it with aqua fortis and a file, and found that under the surface it was brass—I told him I should detain it—he said again it was fifteen carat gold, and that he would go to the police—this is the chain; it has been in custody of the police—as near as I can tell, the value of it is something under £1.
Cross-examined. He came about three p.m.—he was in one of the boxes—another assistant was in the shop with me—when I had examined the chain and said it was filled with base metal, he gave me his card, and said he would go to the police-station—the address on his card was 5, St. Martin's Road, Stockwell—I believe he went to the Police-station, which is nearly opposite our house—in superior English chains every link is marked—I saw at once it was a foreign chain—the amount of money we advance depends on the weight—gold, next to platinum, is the heaviest metal—aqua fortis turns base metal green, and silver dark grey—this turned green—I was rather suspicious of it when I first saw it, and before I tested it—to an outsider there was nothing to suggest that it was filled with brass—it might have been filled with copper or resin.
JAMES STOCKLEY (Police Constable). On September 13th Leek came to Scotland Yard and saw me—he said he came to inquire about a gold chain that had been detained when offered in pledge to a pawnbroker the chain was then in my possession, and I said we had received a chain from Mr. Swinfen, a pawnbroker in Kingsland Road, but it was not a gold one—he said, "I bought it for gold from a firm in Holland, and I thought it was gold"—he produced this invoice, and said the second item on it related to the chain in question, and I marked it in his presence—I told him his application would have to be laid before the Commissioners, and asked him whether he would
call next day—he said, "No, I cannot as I am going to Holland to-night to reccover the money I paid for the chains"—I said, "Then you consider you have been defrauded?"—he replied, "Yes"—on 21st September another man called on me, and gave the name of Isaac Leek, and said he called on behalf of his father, Joseph Leek—he said he passed under the name of Isaac Georger—I asked him whether he was the son known as Georger—he said he had called to know whether in applying to the Magistrate at Bow Street in regard to the chain, another chain that I had received at the Guildhall the day previously might be included in the same summons; I referred him to the Magistrate's clerk—on 21st September I was at Bow Street, when the prisoner applied for a summons against the police for detaining these chains—Georger was with him—in the course of conversation the prisoner said he was his son, and had had some dealings with one of the chains, and that was the reason of his coming to the Court—the summons was heard the week following, and adjourned sine die—on 18th October I went with Croston to 5, St. Martin's Road, where I saw the prisoner—he asked me whether I still had his invoice—I said, "Yes." and asked him whether he had a receipt—he said, "No, he had not paid for the things yet"—I am sure he said on the first occasion that he had paid for them: that led me to ask whether he had been defrauded.
Cross-examined The prisoner won in the hands of the police on a charge of fraud on 18th October—that was by warrant—I ascertained that Georger left the country the same evening; I swear that—we went to his house about nine p.m.—I believe Croston has made inquiries about the prisoner I do not know if he is a man of irreproachable character—the invoice, with the address of the maker of the chains, was left at Scotland Yard on 13th September—I am not aware if detective officers at Scotland Yard are in communication with the detective police of Amsterdam—I know they have means of doing so—I am not in the Foreign Department, but in the Convict Supervision Department, which deals with prisoners' property and property detained by pawnbrokers—the prisoner was not arrested till 18th October—he went to Bow Street about the chain offered to Swinfen; he applied for a summons for that and another chain—I know now that when the prisoner was questioned about these matters he gave information about the chains pawned in the Borough; I believe he gave the addresses at which he had pawned them—I don't know if it was entirely through the information he gave that I traced the chains to Layman—it was not from information that I received elsewhere that I traced them—we have not been able to trace the fifth chain—I don't know that he has not attempted to pawn that after going to Scotland Yard and receiving warning—I did not remark that he spoke with a strong foreign accent; I understood him very well.
HENRY BARRATT (379 G R). On September 10th Saunders gave me a chain, which I took to the station—the following day the prisoner came and asked me to return it—I asked him if he had a receipt for it—he said he had at home, but not with him—I said I had not completed my inquiries about it, and if he would call again and produce a receipt, I would see about it—he came again at six that evening, and produced an invoice, not this one—he again asked for the chain—I said I had made further inquiries, and found it was worthless
and I had sent if to Scotland Yard, where he would have to apply—he said it could not be worthless as it bore the Dutch hall-mark and was fourteen carat gold, and he pointed out the mark—he asked me to send it into Scotland Yard as soon as I could, as he wanted to go to Amsterdam to see the makers about it, and get back by Sunday—I said I would send it in at once—he said, "If the chains are worthless I have already pledged two over the water"—I asked him "Where?"—he said, "Near the Elephant"—he said he had a good position in the City and was well known at the Dutch Consulate; he did not want to get into trouble over the chains—I told him to go and see the pawnbrokers, and he left with the intention of going there, I believe—I bent the chains to Scotland Yard.
Cross-examined. I have to make special inquiries among pawnbrokers—until the prisoner mentioned that he had pawned two of the chains near the Elephant and Castle, I knew nothing about them; so that the information about the pawnings with Layman and Waterfield came from the prisoner—I have not made inquiries in the City, or at the Dutch Consulate; I cannot say if anyone has—the prisoner spoke in a strong foreign accent.
Re-examined. I had no difficulty in understanding him—he did not give me the name of either Layman or Waterfield; he said near the Elephant and Castle, and I did not press him further—Waterfield's is nearly opposite the Sessions House, and Layman's about half a mile from the Elephant and Castle.
EDWARD GLAZIER (Inspector M). On 18th October I was at Southwark Police-station when Croston brought in Leek—Croston read to him the warrant, charging him and Isaac Georger with conspiring to defraud Muskett of £4, and obtaining £2 10s. from Edward Morgan by false pretences the prisoner said, "That is me and that is my son Isaac Leek, that Isaac Georger"—he afterwards said, "All my son Isaac did in this matter was under my direction, and for all the wrong there was in it I will be responsible"—he afterwards said, "He had nothing to do with the obtaining of £2 10s. by fraud; the other that he did was under my direction and responsibility. "
WILLIAM CROSTON (Police Sergeant). On 18th October I went with Stockley to 5, St. Martin's Road—I saw the prisoner there, and took him to the Police-station—he had summoned the Commissioners of Police to give up possession of the chains, and that summons was pending—I found on him four pawn-tickets relating to chains pawned at various places in London—those are chains not included in this inquiry—have had one tested—I also found on him two chains, which he said were gold, and which I find are fourteen carat gold by testing—there is a foreign mark on them.
Cross-examined. He told me where he was employed in the City, and I have made inquiries about his character while in this country—he came here in 1887, and is employed by Mr. Hammer, of 36, Copthall Avenue, which is within reasonable distance of Mr. Bull's, in Bishopsgate Street—Mr. Hammer, who is here, gives him the highest character for honour and integrity—since he has been out on bail I have seen him going to his work at the office in the morning—I can produce no fact gainst him previous to this case—I have made inquiries about Georger—
I do not know that he has been for eleven years in a situation in America on Saturday, 13th October, before the warrant wan issued, and before the prisoner's arrest, Georger sailed in the ss. Berlin, under his name of Georger—I cannot say if his passage must have been booked five or six days before the ship sailed; it would depend on whether the ship was full—it was before any criminal charge had been preferred against the prisoner, but after matters at the Police-court had developed—the prisoner did not run away—any officer might communicate with the police in Holland by telegraph—there is no foreign department at Scotland Yard.
The COMMON SERJEANT ruled that there was no case to go to the JURY upon the Count for Conspiracy.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 10TH, 1894.