CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
TENTH SESSION, HELD JULY 26TH, 1897.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ., Q.C.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, July 26th, 1897, and following days.
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. Sir GEORGE FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Bart, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the HON. Sir JOHN COMPTON LAWRANCE , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir STUART KNILL , Bart., L.L.D., Alderman of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., FRANK GREEN , Esq., Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt., FREDERICK PRATT ALLISTON, Esq., and JOHN KNILL , Esq., other of the 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.
ROBERT HARGREAVES ROGERS, Esq.
WEBSTER GLYNES, Esq.
RICHARD CLARENCE HALSK, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
PHILLIPS, MAYOR. TENTH 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, July 26th, 1897.
Before Mr. Recorder.
491. HARRY WALTERS (33) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an authority for the payment of money, and to demanding and receiving £1 16s. under a forged instrument; and to making false entries in a work-sheet belonging to Frederick Harry Ayres, his employer, with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
492. ALFRED BUSH (44) , to three indictments for forging and uttering orders for £20 5s. and other sums received by him on account of his master, with intent to defraud. He received a good character.— Ten Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
493. RICHARD EMMERICK (41) , to stealing 418 skins, 230 squirrel tails, and 50 sable skins, the goods of Alexander Szevessy. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] The prosecutor, who had, recovered most of the skins, recommended the prisoner to mercy. — Discharged on his own Recognizances.
494. WILLIAM CLARKE** (33) , to stealing a rug, the property of John Hayes, and to a conviction of felony at this Court in February, 1896. There were two other indictments which were not proceeded with.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
495. JOSEPH ILES (35) , to two indictments for stealing, whilst em-ployed in the Post Office, two postal letters containing orders for 3s. and 10s. He received a good character.— Ten Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
496. GEORGE ABBOTT (43) , to stealing, whilst in the employ of the Post Office, a postal letter containing four postage stamps and a postal order for 2s .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(497) WALTER ONLEY (24) , to stealing, whilst in the employ of the Post Office, a letter containing a silk muffler and a postal order for 5s.— Fourteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. BROMLEY Prosecuted.
and chain worth about £7—a man jostled me off the pavement, and a minute later I missed my watch and chain—these are they (produced).
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do not know the exact value—it was a present.
Cross-examined. It was pledged in my presence and hearing.
BENJAMIN GREEN (77 S). I took the prisoner to Marylebone Police-court on July 3rd—I told him he would be charged with stealing a watch and chain from Miss Wedd—he said, "I bought it for 30s., and pledged it for £2."
The Prisoner's defence was that he bought the watch and chain of a Mr. Harrison, who had asked £2 10s. for it, but he gave him 30s., and took it to Davison's, and that he did not know it was stolen.
MR. BROMLEY Prosecuted.
ELLEN MALLOY . I am the keeper of the Wesleyan Chapel in Stanhope Street, Hampstead Road—I locked up the chapel on 16th June, and saw all was safe at 10.15—the plate (produced) was in the cupboard, of which I keep the key—I had seen it last on Monday, the 14th—on the 17th, about 7.40, I found the chapel had been broken into—the cupboard had been rent open with a poker taken from the vestry—the plate was gone; it was the property of the trustees of the chapel, and was in my custody.
CHARLES STROUD (478 S). I was on duty at four a.m. near this chapel—I found a window had been broken, and was open about a foot from the top—I examined the door, and found that open—I entered and searched the premises—the top of a large chest by the Communion table had been forced open, and a poker was lying by it—there was nothing inside—I had passed the chapel at three a.m., when all was right.
JAMES BAKER . I manage a lodging-house at Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—the prisoner has been in the habit of coming there for some time—on June 17th, about eleven p.m., he brought this parcel. (A flagon and two cups and a plate in a black bag.) He asked me if he could leave the parcel till the next morning; I said "Yes, you can lay it down there, and I will speak to my employer"—he went away, and I discovered that there was something wrong, and went to Tottenham Court Road Police Station, and gave information, and got instructions not to give it up—he came the next morning, and then sent another man—I told him I had orders from the police to keep it, and that I had mislaid the key—he said "You ought to be b——"—I said I had been to the station also about the linen I had lost—he said, "You can keep that now, and give it to the inspector"—I gave the parcel up to the police after seeing these things inside, it.
Cross-examined. I did not tell Black Fritz that the plate belonged to me—I did not say anything to you when you saw me in my room with
my employer—I said I had lost my key, and asked the attendant to find it—the man who called for the plate never had it.
FRANK FROEST (Detective Officer). On June 18th I was at the corner of Grafton Street, Tottenham Court Road, when the prisoner came to me and said, "I am sorry I could not see you last night at Scotland Yard; I had very important information to give you; at a public-house in Wardour Street I saw a man who had just come out of prison; he had a bag full of silver, but no money; he offered it to me, but, of course, I refused to take it. He wanted to get rid of it, having no money. I took him to a lodging in Charlotte Street, and became responsible for his night's lodging; he is now in bed, but I will go and wake him up and bring him out. You will know him, because he will be carrying the bag with the stuff in it; then you can arrest him, because he has got the property, and you can charge him with burglary"—I said, "Very well, go and fetch him out"—then I went to Tottenham Court Road Police Station, com-municated with the police, went to the lodging-house, and saw the last witness—I was away a few minutes at Great Whitfield Street—when the prisoner came back he said, "He got up, but he won't carry it away from home. That is the man who committed the burglary; you can arrest him"—I said, "No, I should like to know more about it"—he said, "You know him very well, and where to find him"—I said, "I can find him in the morning"—he said he wanted some breakfast, and I gave him 6d. or 1s., and left him to get it—he joined me again, and said, "Come with me; we are bound to find him"—we walked up Hampstead Road, in the direction of Mr. Davison's, the pawnbroker's—I said, "We have walked up here, and you said you knew the man; how is it you have not found him? Are you going to find him?"—Mr. Davison called a policeman, and gave him into custody—I instructed the officers to take him to the station—he was charged with having in his possession stolen plate.
Cross-examined. A telegram came for me, stating you wanted to see me—you did not tell me you went into No. 17 to see another man about a situation, and that another man had got the plate—I did say it was only silver-plated when I saw it—you have given me information previously which was totally false—I said I must find the plate on him, and you said you would bring the man round to Whitfield Street—you were arrested in Hampstead Road, and sent by Sergeant Tupper to the Police-station—then I went to your rooms to take the plate, and to see if there was other stolen property there—I refused to go and see your wife—when I got to the door I refused to let Black Fritz go away till I had been in the place—I did not ask your wife to get a separation from you.
JOHN TUPPER (Detective, D). I was with Froest, and took the prisoner on June 18th—the prisoner said, "I am a b——fool"—on the way to the station he said, "The things were shown to me by the other man, and he made me a present of them"—at the station he said, "They were given to me by the man in the public-house at Wardour Street," and said, "I wish to know what time it was"—he was charged and cautioned by the inspector—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I caught hold of you, and you said, "Let my arm go; I will walk with you"—you were told not to speak about the plate to
Seymour or me—I said that another charge might be preferred against you.
OSWALD OERTWEL . I live in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—I know the prisoner; we are waiters—I conversed with him about a situation as a waiter—we went to have a glass of beer, and then to another public-house, and then home to supper in Charlotte Street.
Cross-examined. You said you would take the situation as a waiter—I was to meet you about nine p.m.—you came at eight—you said you wanted to go away in half an hour's time to get some silver with a man, and you pointed to a man with a fair moustache and a white face—I saw you again one evening in Tottenham Court Road, with your wife—I said, "Where have you been all the time?"—you said you had gone to the inspector about something—we went to have a drink—I do not remember the conversation about the plate—I went with you to look for a man, and to see Inspector Froest at the Northumberland public-house—you said, "I am going to fetch ten shillings; wait," but I did not wait—I do not know if you went to 22, Oswald Street; it was a street off Tottenham Court Road, near the British Museum—you said you were out of work, and expected to make a few bob.
By the COURT. They call me "Black Fritz"—my name is Fritz.
Evidence for the Defence.
EMMA UTTLER . I am a governess—I was in a situation last April—I was in your bedroom, with you and your wife, on June 16th—you were in bed—I left between 1.30 and 2 o'clock—you had been in pain, and were going to the hospital in the morning—I am no relation of yours or your wife's, only I live in the same house—I saw no whisky, but you had your supper beer—I did not give evidence at the Police-court—I knew of the charge against you.
Cross-examined. Hampstead Road is not far from where I lived—I have left that house now.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that he had earned money by giving information to the police, but was not likely to give information of a burglary committed by himself.— GUILTY **†. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in May, 1896.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, July 26th, 1897.
Before, Mr. Common Serjeant.
501. ERNEST JOHN HALEY (36) , to obtaining 24s., 21s. and 18s. 10d. from William Creswell Roe by false pretences; also to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £4 4s., also an order for £6; having been convicted at Lewes on April 14th, 1885, in the name of John Davis.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
502. JOHN MATHEWS (38) , to stealing a watch from the person of John Wesley, having been convicted on May 8th, 1893. Eight summary convictions were proved against him.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
MICHAEL NATARA . I am a tobacconist, of Piccadilly—on July 1st, about one a.m., the prisoner came in for a sixpenny cigar, and gave me a 5s. piece; I think this is the one—I said that it was not good—he said, "All right; that is a good one"—I said, "No"—he said, "All right, I will give you good money," and gave me 1s.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Four or five foreign gentlemen were talking on this side the counter—I said, "This is no good"—I did not tell the constable to follow you.
Re-examined. You had a friend with you, who said, "We got it from some public-house, and I will go and get good money for it"
WILLIAM DEAR . I am clerk to the District Messengers' Company, who have a branch at Piccadilly, opposite the prosecutor's shop—I was on duty between 12.30 and 1 o'clock, and the prisoner came in and asked me to write a message to Miss Jeffery, of Upper Edmonton, as he could not write—I charged him 1s. 6d.—he gave me a crown piece—I gave him the change, and said, "I will send it at once"—he said, "No, I don't want it at once, as I don't want the people disturbed; send it at ten in the morning"—afterwards a policeman brought him back, and he gave me the change.
Cross-examined. I did not put it into my purse; I kept it in my hand—I had no purse.
By the COURT. I found it was bad directly he had gone out, and before the policeman came, and was on the point of going out to fetch him—I had got Miss Jeffery's full address on the letter.
FREDERICK WILLIS . On the early morning of July 7th I saw the prisoner come out of Natara'a shop, and watched him to the District Messengers' place—I went in and spoke to the witness, and then went after the prisoner, and said, "You have been passing bad coin"—he said that he got it at the Swallow public-house in change for a half-sovereign—I found 3s. 6d. on him and some bronze—he gave no address—he had no occasion to sign his name—he said he could not write.
Cross-examined. The coin was lying on the counter—you said that you got the change at a public-house—you did not return it to me.
JOHN FOX . I am barman at the Swallow public-house, Swallow Street, Piccadilly—on June 30th, about midnight, I was at the public-house, and the prisoner came in with a rabbit—I gave him 9d. forit—Iknow nothing about a 5s. piece.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I tried it in front of Natara repeatedly, and the other man also tried it."
The Prisoner called
ELLEN GILBERT . I live in Mortimer Street—I am married, and am a tailoress—the prisoner received a letter from me to Mrs. Jeffery, of Edmonton—I had not money to post it—he said he would go into a public-house, and get paper and an envelope, and post it for me.
By the COURT. He can write—I lived with him some time—I saw a half-sovereign on him.
Prisoner's Defence: On June 30th I was at a public-house, and got change for a half-sovereign from one of the barmaids. I tendered money for the cigar; he said, "This is no good." He did not say that it was bad, or I should have taken it to the Swallow public-house. He gave me 3s. 6d., change, which I returned to him. You often get change, and find a coin which you did not notice before.
GUILTY .—Four previous convictions were proved against him.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ELIZABETH EMILY MITCHELL . I am barmaid to Thomas Keeble, at the Coffee-pot, Warwick Lane, City—on July 13th the prisoner came in for some lemonade and brandy, and tendered this crown to Mrs. Keeble, who asked him to pay with good money—he put down a good half-sovereign, and she gave him 9s. 7d. change.
Cross-examined. I am in the bar every day, and Mr. and Mrs. Keeble and another barmaid—there had been dinners in the bar, and we were clearing away—Mrs. Keeble is not here—Mr. Keeble ought to have been able to hear her say that he ought to pay with good money, and not with a piece of lead—he said in the prisoner's presence, "I think this is the man who passed bad money a fortnight ago;" and Mrs. Keeble said, "No, that was a younger man," but I do not know who she referred to—a policeman was called.
THOMAS KEEBLE . I am landlord of the Coffee-pot—on July 13th, about 8.30 p.m., I saw my wife with a bad 5s. piece—I said to the prisoner, "I believe you are the same old scoundrel who passed a bad half-crown to me a fortnight ago"; he said nothing—I said, "I shall have you searched," and sent for a policeman—a man whom I feel certain was the prisoner had called a fortnight before, and had some Scotch whisky, and passed a bad half-crown—I would not take an oath that the prisoner is the man, but I believe he is; my wife did not say he was not.
Cross-examined. I put my hand on the prisoner's arm, but not so sharply as to strike him a blow—my wife did not say, "That is not the man; it was a younger man," to my knowledge; she may have said so to the barmaid, but not in my hearing—I did not hear her say anything—I said before the Magistrate, "I would not swear he is the man; I believe he is"—it was twelve o'clock in the day.
FREDERICK WILLIAM CUTTING . I am a caterer, of 33, Pickard Street, Limehouse—on this day in July I was in the bar of the Coflee-pot, and saw the prisoner there—I swear he is the man—he asked for three-pennyworth of whisky, and gave 2s. or 2s. 6d., and Mr. Keeble said, "That old scamp has given me a bad half-crown"—he drank his whisky in a hurry, and left a little in the glass and went out—I saw the coin bent up—I saw the man again, standing in the dock at Guildhall.
Cross-examined. I went there on private business, not on account of this case; I heard some of the evidence, and recognised the prisoner—other people were in the bar, being served—I had never seen the prisoner before.
By the COURT. He did not present the same appearance as he does now; as near as I recollect, he had a black coat and no spectacles—I swear that this is the man.
HARRY HUMBER (City Policeman). On July 13th I was sent for to this public-house, and the landlord gave the prisoner into my custody for uttering a bad 5s. piece—I said, "Is this your piece of money?"—he said, "Yes—I said, "Did you know it was bad?"—he said, "No"—I made this note on the 14th, after I had given my evidence—he refused his name and address at the public-house, but at the station he said, "Farmer Square, Hampstead Road," but refused to tell the number—I asked him if he knew it was bad—he said, "No," and that he got it in Hampstead Road, at the Lord Palmerston, and said, "I decline to give you any information; let the law take is course"—I found on him 9s. 9d. in silver.
Cross-examined. No one had hold of him at the public-house, but there were people in the bar—lie was rather excited, and called Mr. Keeble names; I did not hear him say "Devil"—after the charge was entered he gave the name of George Robinson.
Re-examined. I believe the landlord said, "I believe you are the gentleman who parsed a bad half-crown a fortnight ago."
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of a like offence on March 28th, 1881; and seven other convictions were proved against him.— Twelve Months' Hard Lahour; haying a year and nine months of his former sentence still to serve.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 27th, 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
The GRAND JURY having thrown out the bill, the prisoner, who had PLEADED GUILTY, then withdrew that plea and pleaded NOT GUILTY. He had been threatened by the deceased, his sister, and threw a stone at her, which caused her death.
MR. MICHELE, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
MR. BODKIN, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Sullivan.
NOT GUILTY .
BERNARD JOHNSON . I live at 3, Merchant's Row, Limehouse, with my wife—I have been laid up ten weeks—the prisoners with his mother, Mrs. Forbes, and a woman named Sullivan, were lodgers, living in one room—they had been there thirteen months—on Thursday evening, May 27th, they had a disturbance, and a policeman was fetched, and sullivan was taken into custody—O'Connell caine home half an hour after midnight of the 28th—he said to Forbes. "You bad b——you have locked her up;
I'll pay you, and you shall lock me up"—he dragged her off a chair she was sitting on, and beat her to the foot of the stairs—I heard kicks—she called out, "Oh, Patsy, don't"—after four or five minutes he went out—my wife brought her into our room—the prisoner came in and went upstairs—then he came to our room-door and said, "Is my mother in there?"—I said, "No; she has gone out"—he said, "It is a lie; she has been there," and he forced the door open, caught hold of his mother, and dragged her out by the shoulders into the passage—there was a light—he beat her and kicked her in the passage three or four times—she was on the floor—I was at my room-door, two or three feet away—I called him a cowardly vagabond—he said to his mother, "Who will take your part now?"—he went out, leaving her lying in the passage—he came back, and beat her and kicked her each time he came back—he kicked her in the back—when he said, "You have locked her up," etc., she said, "No, Patsy, I won't lock you up"—he remained in the passage the third time about five minutes—the woman was on the floor the whole time—he went out, and did not return that night—my wife and I placed her in our little kitchen, stood by her all night, and in the morning we went to the Police-court—on the 29th we sent for the doctor—under his advice she was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not in a state to be able to stop you—you had been at work, but you had been drinking when you came home.
ELLEN JOHNSON . I am the wife of Bernard Johnson, and live at 3, Merchant's Row, Limehouse—I remember the disturbance on May 27—about 10.30 there was a further disturbance—afterwards Mrs. Forbes's side was very much swollen, where she was kicked by a boot—I fetched a constable from near the Eastern Hotel—I went with Mrs. Forbes and the constable to Limehouse Police-station—Sullivan had been taken into custody for assaulting Mrs. Forbes—Sullivan and the prisoner left together—about 12.30 the prisoner came back and went to my kitchen, found his mother there, dragged her out, and beat her at the foot of the stairs—he punched her with his fist—she said, "Oh, Patsy, don't"—he went out—she was lying crouched at the foot of the stairs—she asked me, and I took her into my kitchen—he returned, and called out something I did not hear at the kitchen door—my husband replied, "She has gone out"—he burst the door open, and dragged her off the chair she was sitting on into the passage—he struck her the first time, and the second time he kicked her—he said, "Now you have locked her up, I shall pay you, and you shall lock me up"—she said, "Oh, Patsy, don't; go and get bail, and get her out"—he left the house, but hurriedly returned—she was still lying on the floor in the passage—he renewed his kicking, and left, saying, "I will find the constable out, and I shall pay him, and he shall lock me up"—I took her into my kitchen, and remained with her the whole night—she seemed helpless; I had to drag her along the floor into the kitchen—I would not go upstairs for fear of his returning—the next morning I went with her to the Thames Police-court—Sullivan was charged with assaulting Mrs. Forbes the night before, and gota month's hard labour—I assisted Mrs. Forbes to the end of the street, and put her in a train, and then helped her into the Court—I brought her back in the same way—she was very bad on the 28th; and got worse on the 29th—I
went for the parish doctor, who got her removed to the Bromley Sick Asylum—the prisoner did not return till he had served his ten days for an assault on the police.
Cross-examined. I saw and heard what you did—I have some pawn-tickets which the deceased gave me before she went to the asylum.
JAMES ENDICOTT (424 K). I was spoken to by Mrs. Johnson, and went to her house—Mrs. Forbes' face was swollen very much—I took Sullivan in custody—she was detained that night—the next morning she was sentenced toa month's hard labour for assaulting Mrs. Forbes.
ROBERT ROSS SUTTER . I am the medical officer of the Bromley Sick Asylum—I was there when Forbes was admitted on May 29th—she was apparently over fifty years of age—I examined her—I found a large bruise on her left cheek, a small one on her right cheek, a large one on the centre of her chest, and one large bruise each side of her chest—her back, from the shoulder-blade downwards, was covered by a number of bruises, which partially coalesced, forming a continuous area—the outer side of each arm, from the shoulders to the wrist, were also covered by a continuous area of bruising—the outer side of both legs, from the hip joints to the knee and the joints, were covered with bruises—there was a small bruise on the inner side of her left-hand joint—she was very weak, her heart was strong and regular in action, but the valves were incompetent—the abdomen contained a twelfth part of albumen, showing an old inflammation of the kidneys—I attended her till June 14th, when she died—she constantly complained of great pain on the left side of her chest—I examined her repeatedly for fractured ribs, but could find no sign—she gradually became weaker, and died—I made a postmortem examination—I found the remains of most of the bruises I have described—on opening the chest I discovered a fracture of the tenth, eleventh and twelfth ribs, on the left side, immediately underlying bruises—on the right side there was a fracture of the seventh rib, also under-lying a bruise on the right side of the chest; the heart was enlarged and the mitral valve diseased; the muscles were healthy; the kidneys weighed three ounces instead of four and a-half or five ounces; quite one half of their substance had been lost by old inflammation—on the left side of the face was a severe bruise, but not deep—death was from exhaustion, the result of extensive bruising, and four fractured ribs in a woman who was suffering from bad kidney disease—the union of the fractures was in a cartilaginous stage, which implies an interval of between fourteen and twenty-one days from their occurrence—the bruises could have been caused by a kick with boots.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. On June 10th we got her out of bed because we were afraid her lungs would get full of fluid, being an old woman, and having an incompetent heart, and she would have died; so, for a medical reason, I let her sit up in bed.
JOHN HANCOCK (Police Inspector, K). I was present at the Bromley Sick Asylum on June 16th, when an Inquisition was held by the Coroner, Wynne Baxter, upon the body of Johanna Forbes—after the verdict of the Jury I took the prisoner into custody—I told him I should arrest him on the Coroner's warrant for the manslaughter of his mother during a quarrel—he replied, "I am not guilty."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am quite innocent
of it. I never lived with Johanna Sullivan. She stopped in the house with Mr. Johnson's permission."
Prisoner's Defence: I asked my mother if I touched her. She said, "No, no; don't have any more bother." I am quite innocent. That is all I have to say.
Evidence for the Defence.
CORTAIN THOMAS CHIVERS . Mr. Wynne Baxter is in Switzerland—I was present at the inquest on Johanna Forbes, and saw him take down the evidence—the prisoner was sworn and examined after the proper caution—Mr. Baxter took down his evidence—it was read over, and he signed it. (Read: "I have no fixed residence. I have been walking the streets all night. I am a dock labourer. I have seen the body in the mortuary. It is that of my mother. Her name was Johanna Forbes. She was the widow of John Forbes, a coal-porter. She had been married twice. She was fifty-two years of age. She last lived at No. 3, Merchant's Row, St. Anne's Street, Liraehouse. She occupied one room on the first-floor front. I occupied the same room, and so did Johanna Sullivan. Johanna Sullivan was a friend of my mother's from childhood. I did not live with her as my wife. I cannot say whether Sullivan was older or younger than my mother. I could not say whether she was about the same age. We three had been living in one room for about five months. I am twenty-five years of age. There was one bedstead in the room. I slept on the floor. On Thursday, May 27th, I came home from work about 7.30 p.m. I was sober. My mother told me she had been having a row with Johanna Sullivan. Sullivan was in the room at the time. I said, 'Been rowing again, you are always rowing; I told you this morning not to have no row.' They were both sober. I went out, and returned in about ten minutes. They were still jawing. I then went out, and returned at nine p.m. Thoy were both jawing. I went out again. I met Johanna Sullivan in the West India Dock Road about ten, or half-past ten. I could see that she had had a drop of drink. I took her into a public-house and treated her. We walked across the road. She went before me, and two policemen took her to the station; I do not know what for. I went and had another drink. I then walked towards home. I met my mother with Mrs. Johnson. They both went into Limehouse Police-station. They did not speak to me This was about 11.30 p.m. I went home, and my mother and Mrs. Johnson returned, and went into Mrs. Johnson's kitchen. I asked my mother if she was upstairs. She said, 'No.' Mother got nasty, and jawed, and carried on. I did not answer her much. She struck me. I did not strike her back. I left, and went and had another drink. I then went to the Police-station to see if I could bail Johanna Sullivan. I was told it was too late. I went towards home, and later on I got locked up. The next day I appeared at the Police-court, and I gotten days' imprisonment for insulting a policeman. I do not know what became of Johanna Sullivan. After theten days' imprisonment I went home. Neither my mother nor Sullivan were there. I heard my mother was in the Sick Asylum, and that Sullivan was locked up. I have not seen Sullivan since. I went to the Sick Asylum, and saw my mother on Sunday week. She did not tell me what was the matter with her. She did not tell me anything about Sullivan, and I did not ask her anything
about her. I did not see mother after that until I received a special order last Sunday. I went and saw her. She could not speak much. She did not mention Sullivan's name, or the cause of her illness. She died on Monday at 11.50 a.m., without having told me anything. I stopped with her all Sunday night, till five a.m. Monday."
GUILTY .— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
HAROLD BURGBTT HEARINGS . I am house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—Martin was admitted on the evening of May 24th, suffering from a severe burning over her face, and a deep, but small, scalp wound on the upper part of her forehead—the burn appeared to be the result of a corrosive fluid—her dress was splashed with it—she remained about three weeks in the hospital—there will always be a trace of the burning, but it will not amount to a permanent disfigurement—it appeared to have been produced by nitric acid, which would smell like this bottle (Produced), labelled "Aqua fortis."
Cross-examined. The wound on her forehead may have been caused by a jug.
ANNIE MARTIN . I am a flower-seller, of Little Northampton Street, Clerkenwell—I am married—on the night of May 24th I was in the Clock House, Leather Lane, with Dolly, or Emma Cannon—I had seen the prisoner twice before, but never had any conversation with her, nor quarrel—I have never said I would vitriol her—she was sitting down, and asked me to drink—she had this jug in her hand—I refused to drink—then three drinks were called for by Dolly Cannon, when the prisoner struck me on the head with a jug—I fell faint on the floor, blinded, and know no more—one drink was for the prisoner—I felt a burning sensation on half my face—I am not attending the hospital now, because I am well.
Cross-examined. Four or five women were in the bar—a woman who went in with me, Emma Cannon, asked the prisoner to have a drink—I never said to the prisoner, "You shan't have a drink with me"—I did not throw a glass of beer over her, nor catch her on her shoulder—I did not have the bottle in my hand with acid in it—the prisoner's sister, Elizabeth Squires, was there—she did not strike up my hand, and knock the bottle out of it—the time was 10.30 or 10.45 p.m.—I know Thomas Gibbons by sight—I told him I should stab the prisoner in self-defence if nothing was done to her; that I would stick a knife into her—I had seen Gibbons three or four nights before the accident—I did not say I had some vitriol, and was going to throw it on her.
Re-examined. Before this assault I had no ill-feeling against her—I had used no threats—I had the conversation with Gibbons after coming out of the hospital—I said, "I shall have my own back again, for when I get hold of her I shall put this knife into her"—that is if she was not caught.
EDWIN JOHNSON . I am manager of the Clock House, Leather Lane—I was in the saloon-bar on the 24th, about ten p.m.—when I turned to the till for change the prosecutrix had fallen in the corner—the prisoner threw
a glass which came in my direction, and broke one of the urns at the back—I blew a whistle—they all went out—the prosecutrix was taken to the hospital—I afterwards found over the bar this jug, and the small bottle under the form against the partition—I handed them to the police.
Cross-examined. About seven were in the bar—I did not hear the prosecutrix say, "You shan't have a drink with me"—I did not hear the conversation—two or three glasses were thrown about—I picked up the pieces, and threw them away—several glasses were broken.
EMMA CANNON . I live at 18, Else Place, Lever Street, St. Luke's—I went in the Clock House public-house with Martin to have a drink—I saw her on the ground—her face was all burnt—she said, "Oh! I am blinded"—I could not see who were there, there were such a lot—Martin asked the prisoner to have a drink, but the man who was with me and Martin first asked her—the prisoner refused the drink, and turned her back—I next saw glasses going about—it all happened quickly—I took her to the hospital.
Cross-examined. I know the prisoner's sister by sight; she was there, too—Martin and I were with two men, but one would not come in—when I asked the prisoner to drink, Martin said, "You shan't have a drink with us"—the beer went over the bar and over the prisoner—Squires was by the prisoner—I did not see how Martin got on the ground.
ALBERT PEDDER (Detectiw Sergeant). I received information about this assault on May 25th or 26th—I was looking for the prisoner with other officers—about 11.30 p.m. on July 2nd I saw her in the Strand—I stopped her, and told her I should take her in custody for throwing vitriol over a girl named Annie Martin, at the Clock House, Leather Lane—she said, "I did not throw vitriol over her; she struck me, and I hit her with the jug"—she was taken to the station, and charged with throwing corrosive fluid—she said, "Is that all?I did not throw the vitriol, I threw the jug"—I received this jug and bottle from Johnson.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "A week before this happened the prosecutrix went about, saying she had vitriol for me, and I have a witness to whom she said it."
Evidence for the Defence.
ELIZABETH SQUIRES . I am the prisoner's sister, and live at 26, Leather Lane Buildings—on May 24th I was in the Clock public-house with her—the prosecutrix came in afterwards, with three or four women, and came over to me, and called me a sour-faced cow—I said I did not want anything to say to her, and she could keep her say to herself—she went over to the women who were with her, and a little while after she went out—a man came in with her—he asked my sister to have a drink—she said, "Yes"—when he called for the drink Martin said, "Bung it"—that meant that he was to give her the shilling to pay for it, which he did, and she turned to my sister and said, "You could not get a f—g drink out of me," and threw the glass of drink that the man paid for at my sister; it went over her shoulders, and the glass went over the bar, just past her face—my sister hit her on the head in self-defence with the jug she had for our supper beer—Martin had some stuff in a bottle like this, which she tried to throw over my sister, but I knocked her hand up, and it went over herself and
over me, and I have the scars on my face and the back of my neck—afterwards I heard the prosecutrix halloing out that she was blinded—a whistle was blown, and we were all ordered out—I saw Flo Harvey outside, but not in the house.
Cross-examined. Martin came in with Cannon and two others—my sister was sitting on a form—she was not asked to drink, and she did not ask anybody, because she had no money—I was standing in front of her—we all had a drink, but I did not drink with the man; I had my own drink—Martin was sitting opposite the prisoner; Martin did not fall when she was hit by the jug, but some time after—I did not go to the hospital; I put some zinc ointment on my face, from the doctor's opposite my place in Leather Lane—my sister had lived in Leather Lane; before this was doneshe lived over the water for a week or a fortnight—she came to me two or three times a week—I did not know the police were looking for her.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted. GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 27th, 1897.
Before Mr. Recorder.
HENRY EDWARD RHODES . I am manager to Mr. Potter, the proprietor of the Adam and Eve, Hampstead Road—on June 25th I went to bed about twelve o'clock; the house was properly locked up, but in the morning it had been broken into, and a robbery had taken place.
FRANK HENRY PANTER . I am cashier to the London and South-Western Bank, Hampstead Road—on June 25th the prisoner presented this cheque for £30; it purports to be signed by our customer, Mr. Potter; it is taken from his son's cheque-book, who is also a customer—I saw at once that it was a forgery, and said, "Will you take gold?"—he said, "Shall I go out and bring in the man from whom I got the cheque?"—I said, "No, stay where you are," and whispered to a messenger—at that moment Mr. A. A. Potter came in, and the manager said, "Good morning, Mr. Potter"—I turned round, and the prisoner had gone.
ALBERT ALFRED POTTER . I am the son of Thomas Potter, of the Adam and Eve public-house, Hampstead Road—this cheque has not his signature—on the morning of June 26th I found that a robbery had been committed there, and missed my cheque-book.
told him I was a police officer, and as he answered the description; should take him in custody for burglariously breaking and entering 1 Hampatead Road and stealing several articles, including a cheque-book—on the way to the station he said, "I was standing outside the Salisbury Arms, about nine p.m., when a man named Moffatt asked me to cash a cheque, and I did so"—Moffatt is a barman, and has disappeared.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was the same as that which he made to Cresswell.
F. H. PANTER (Re-examined). When I saw the prisoner going out, the messenger was going after him—the messenger is not here; he came back without him—I did not go to the door.
Evidence for the Defence.
WILLIAM COLEMAN . I am a carpenter and joiner, but am out of work—I work for the prisoner; we finished up on the Wednesday after the Jubilee, and I saw nothing of him after Saturday—on July 26th I was with him; I am sure it was the 26th; it was Saturday—a man touched him on the shoulder, and out of curiosity I watched them, and saw the man give something to him; what it was I do not know—I met two mates, and we had half a pint of beer each—when we came out I said to the prisoner, "What did that man want with you?"—he said, "He wanted me to go and change a cheque"—we were half an hour in the public-house—I said, "Why was that?"—he said, "It was a man wanted me to change a cheque, and I went in and put the cheque down, and went out and looked for the man, and he was gone"—he did not tell me that he walked with two men and a woman.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been on bail—he has seen me about twice since, and he and a priest talked this over with me, and asked me to give evidence—I believe the prisoner said that he told the man that he had better go and change it himself, and that the man was a barber.
The Prisoner: I am not able to read and write.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HURRELL Prosecuted, and MR. WARBUBTON Defended.
FRANK OXLEY . I am a clothier, of 68, Tredegar Road—on July 17th, in the afternoon, I was at the top of Will Street, and was seized round my back from behind; a left arm was put round my neck, and proceeded to my left waistcoat pocket for my watch—I put my hand on my watch, the chain broke, and he only took that—he then threw me under a horse's hoofs, and I felt the horse touch me—I was wearing a silk hat, or I might have been very much wounded—I pursued him, but nobody inter-fered—I saw a policeman catch the prisoner—he is the man I ran after—I never saw his face, but I recognise him by his back and his clothes—I lost sight of him, but the constable was after him, and I saw him in the
hands of the police—I lost sight of him as he ran round a corner; the constable was chasing him then.
Cross-examined. There were half-a-dozen people at the top of Wrlk Street—I afterwards put my hand in my pocket, and found my watch there, but the chain had gone—I got up quickly; he was then running away, and as far off as that window.
WILLIAM JOHN HILLYER . I am a furrier, of 91, Sewardstone Road—on July 7th, a little after two o'clock, I was in a tram-car, going towards Shoreditch—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner run down a little alley—I jumped off the car, and kept him in sight; I never lost sight of him—he was the foremost man running; he ran into a public-house, and came out into the crowd—the prosecutor followed at the beginning, but he had to stop and walk.
Cross-examined. I saw his face; he was about the length of this Court from me, and he was running—I noticed his face; he had no beard then—it was after two o'clock.
WILLIAM SMITH (577 N). I was on a tram-car in Commercial Street, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner coming from Bed Lion Court into Spitalfields Market, and into a public-house—I got off the car, and ran beside him for half a minute, and took him; he was exhausted and sweating—he said, "You have made a mistake"—I said, "I have not"; he was running for half a minute in front of my face—he took his hat off and wiped it, and his forehead—I found nothing on him—he said he had just come from bis lodging, and gave me the address, but they said that he was not living there then; he said that he had been in London two years, earning a respectable living.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that he saw a crowd in front of the King's Head asked what was the matter, and was taken in charge.
The Prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LEWIS Prosecuted.
ALFRED BOURNE . I live at 47, Linton Street, Dorset Square—on the afternoon of June 28th I was in Euston Square—four men came up to me; the prisoner is one—they took hold of my arms on each side; the prisoner took my right arm and tore my pocket out, containing 7s. 6d. and a knife and key, in the scuffle—they threw me on the ground—they all ran up a court where there was no outlet—I ran after them, and Sergeant Baker came—I only lost sight of the prisoner when he got behind something, and a gentleman said, "You are going past him"—a policeman took him, and I charged him—they did not strike me, but my nose was bleeding.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The robbery took place at the corner of Diana Place.
By the COURT. I saw the man's face when I was under him.
GEORGE BAKER (4 GR). On June 28th, about 11.30 p.m., I was in bed, and was awoke by a cry of "Stop thief!"—I jumped up, pulled the blind on one side, and saw them running down Diana Place—I put my trousers on, went out, and said to the prosecutor, "What is the matter?"—he said
"He has knocked me down and robbed me"—I told the prisoner he would have to come with me; he put his hand in his waistcoat pocket, took something out, and threw it away—the sergeant came up, and I said, "He has thrown something away"—he looked, and found the key; it was taken to the station, and put on a ring with a dozen others, and Bourne picked it out—after the prisoner was charged I went back, and spoke to a watchman, who afterwards gave me this note—I found 3s. 7 1/2 d. on the prisoner; one coin was a florin.
Cross-examined. My house stands forty yards from the road, and I saw you pass, followed by Bourne, but where you were running was not five yards off.
JOHN REED . I am a watchman, of 31, Barrow Hill Road—on June 29th I was looking for the money, and picked up this knife, and gave it to Mrs. Baker, the policeman's wife—I had seen the prisoner running away the night before, and the prosecutor running after him, with his nose bleeding—he passed the place where I picked up the knife.
Prisoner's Defence: I am perfectly innocent; 3s. 5 1/2 d. was found on me only, and yet they say I took the man's money.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on November 4th 1896, in the name of Charles Williams; and nine other convictions were proved against him, two of which were for robbery with violence.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COSSON Prosecuted.
JOSEPH WRIGHT . I am a seaman, of Newcastle-on-Tyne—on the afternoon of July 1st I was in Brick Lane—I had been drinking—I met the prisoner and another man—one man struck me from behind and took my money from my pocket, and I got a couple of black eyes—one of them hit me between my eyes—I said before the Magistrate that the prisoner hit me between my eyes—I had in my pocket a sovereign and some silver and coppers; I lost it—they knocked me down and ran away—I followed them to a lodging-house.
Cross-examined. I had not my coat off, fighting; there was no mud on it.
By the COURT. I was charged at the station with drunkenness—I went there to complain, and was detained—I had not got my money in my hand; I did not ask the prisoner to hold it.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Police Sergeant, H). On July 1st, about 6.45, I was with another constable in Brick Lane—Gregory said that he saw the prosecutor with his coat on—I said, "You look after one, I will look after the other"—the prosecutor said at the station that he handed him his coat and money as well—he said, "You took the money from my pocket"—the prisoner said nothing.
WILLIAM GREGORY (Policeman, H). I was with McCarthy, and saw the prisoner and another man run away from a crowd in Brick Lane—Sergeant McCarthy caught him, and handed him over to me—I said, "What have you got there? you had better give it up"—the prisoner then handed me £1 in gold, some silver, and 7 1/2 d. in bronze.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "Only that he gave me the money. I did not strike him."
Prisoner's Defence: The man was drunk. I never struck him. He gave me the money into my hand.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. CAMPBELL Prosecuted.
ALEXANDER BOYCE STEWART . I am a stock dealer, of 3, Throgmorton Avenue—on July 7th, about 3 30, I was looking into a shop-window—about half-a-dozen people were there—I felt my watch-chain drop, and caught hold of the prisoner's right arm, which was across my waistcoat—he was on my left—I caught hold of his arm, and said, "Where is my watch?"—he said he knew nothing about it—I held him, and called a policeman—we went to the station, and he was searched there, and a key and a handkerchief were found on him—I value my watch at £25, but it cost considerably more—I had looked at it just before, to see at what time I could get back.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see your hand; you were partly in front of me, and your right elbow was touching me—there was no one there who could have taken it, and I felt the chain drop.
Prisoner's Defence: I had my hand like this, (On his chest).
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on December 5th 1892, in the name of Samuel Gorman; five other convictions were proved against him, and he was still on license— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
HINRY BALDERSTON . I am a merchant, of Hemel Hempstead—on July 13th I was going to the railway station, and was attacked; the two prisoners were some of them; they snatched my watch, and it fell on the pavement—one of them said, "Don't let the old b——have it; pick it up, Jim"—they ran away—I picked up the fragments of the chain, but the watch was smashed; it cost me forty guineas—I gave information to a constable, and gave him the fragments—I went to the station, and picked out Brown—I have not the slightest doubt he is one of the three who attacked me—I picked Clancy out on the Monday at the Police-court—I had given a description of them.
Plasterer's Arms, near Euston Station, and saw the prisoner Brown attack the old gentleman, who halloed out, "Police!" and they all ran away—I next saw him at Albany Street Station, and picked him out from nine others—I am quite sure of him; I did not see Claney.
DAVID COLLINS . I am ten years old, and live at 24, Albany Street, Regent's Park—on July 13th, about one o'clock, I was going to school, towards Euston Station, and saw three of them attack the prosecutor, and snatch his watch—thn prisoners are two of them; I knew them by sight—Claney lived opposite me, and I have known Brown about a week—the prosecutor called out "Police!" and the prisoners ran away—when the watch fell, Claney said, "Pick it up"—I am sure the prisoners are the two who attacked him.
GUILTY .—Brown then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell
on April 6th, 1807; and two other convictions were proved against him.
BROWN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. CLANEY— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
GUILTY on the Second Count .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 28th 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted; MR. WARBURTON appeared for Hodge and Ames, MR. PURCELL for Thompson, and MR. SYMONS for Demant.
ANNIE BARBELL . I am the widow of the deceased Frederick Barrellt bricklayer's labourer—I live at 34, Cornwall Road, West Green, Tottenham—lie was forty-eight years of age—on Bank Holiday, June 7th, we went with a party for a drive—there were two conveyances—about seven p.m. we got to the Fox public-house, Palmer's Green—the party got down, including Mrs. Crook—I saw her being pushed out of the public-house—my husband was standing about two steps from me—he asked Ames what made him throw the woman out like that—Ames said, "She has nothing to do with you"—my husband said, "Oh yes, she has; she is one of our party;" and, as Ames was looking at his boots, he said, "I've got a pair of Steve Smith's fighting boots on"—they were white boots which had been given to him about three weeks before—they all went up the road—I next saw my husband lying in the road; I went to him—his ears were flowing with blood—he was removed in a van to the Police-station—in the morning I went to the Wood Green Cottage Hospital to see him—he was dead.
Cross-examined by MR. WARDURTON. He was in regular employ—we
had left home about mid-day—we had stopped at a public-house at Edmonton; from there we went to Enfield to have some dinner—we had started from the corner of the Cornwall Road—we went into a public-house at Enfield Wash—my husband knew Steve Smith, the fighting man, ae a plasterer—the boots had been Smith's—my husband was not a pugilist—we have been married twenty-three years—we were sober—he had had very little beer—I never heard him say, "I will fight any of you"—I did not see him take off his coat, but when he was lying in tile road he had no coat on—about four years ago he very seriously injured his head while working at the Marringay Board Schools—that gave him a great deal of trouble—I never said of my husband, "Serve him right, poking his nose into other people's business"—Mrs. Crook was not more drunken than the rest—she was not disorderly, and so turned out of the public-house for her disgraceful behaviour—she was not drunk—we had between ten and twelve in the party, with women and children, but chiefly grown-up people.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCRLL. None of our party were around the deceased when he was lying in the road; I did not say before the Magistrate that they were—they came round after I went to see him lying there.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. I rode with the ladies in the van—my husband was in the van in front—Mrs. Crook got out before me, because I helped the children out—she could not have been out more than a few minutes—a quarter of an hour might have elapsed.
Re-examined. The prisoners stood round my husband, then went in different directions.
JOHN MILLER . I am a chimney-sweep, of Cornwall Road, Tottenham—I was one of the party who drove up to the Fox—as I was going to the Fox I saw a disturbance—Ames made a remark about deceased's white boots—he replied, in a joking manner, "They are Jim Smith's," or some Smith's, "fighting-boots"—Ames pulled off his coat, and said, "Come on, and have a fight along with me; I will fight you"—Thompson took off his coat—the deceased followed in a joking manner, and pulled off his coat—the prisoners put themselves in a fighting position—it looked like a trick, to my idea—Thompson was in front, but I never saw him strike the deceased—they all struck one blow; it sounded like the lot—they hit him on his head, and he fell on his back; blood oozed from both ears—he staggered before he fell—he had no chance to strike, or put his bands tip; I thought it was all done in a lark, but when I saw blood I said to Ames," You have killed the man; you had better fetch a doctor"—Ames and Hodge went into the public-house—I followed them in—Ames made a dirty remark, and shoved me on to the counter—Ames said to his friends, "We had better clear out of this"—there were about half-a-dozen men and women there—Hodge and Ames went towards Palmer's Green Station, Wood Green—I said I should follow them till I met a constable—Ames said to Hodge, "You go by train; I will look after myself"—they said to me, "If you go you will have to look after yourself"—on the road Ames said, "You know me?"—I said, "I have no recollection of you"—when I got to the water-trough he said he would put me in it if I did not go away—I said, "I don't care if you kill me; I shall follow you"—when we got to the Cock public-house they asked me
to have a glass of ale and settle it—that is about half a mile from the Fox—I stood by the door while they went in—a constable came up; I stated my case, and gave them in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. There were eight women in one van, and six men, besides children, in the other—both vans arrived at the Fox together—I did not see Mrs. Crook turned out—I saw someone shove her when she was outside—I did not go into the house till after the deceased was knocked down—I had known the deceased about three months—I know nothing about Smith—I know the deceased was not a fighting-man—the deceased only said about the boots, in a joke—I don't care about fighting—we were not drunk—I did not hear the deceased say, "I will fight any of you"—I did not say to Ames and Hodge, "I have lost the two men who did the job; now I mean having you"—I did not hear any of my friends say, "You have got the wrong two"—I did not say I knew what to do, and would go for these people—I saw three of the prisoners strike the deceased—I did not say, in the hearing of John Lippett, "I will give them in charge; pull yourselves together; we must not be drunk; all say the same thing."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. When the deceased followed Ames and Thompson across the road, and they had taken off their coats, Hodge was on the deceased's left side and Demant on his right—Thompson was following up, but I never saw him strike the deceased—I should have seen him if he had done so—I said before the Magistrate, "Thompson was on the right-hand side, in front of Demant"—my wife was about as close to the deceased as I was—my son might have been closer; I did not notice.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. I identified Demant on the day of the deceased's funeral, about a week afterwards—I did not pick out somebody else—I said before the Magistrate, "The man I first picked out I believed to be the fourth man, not now in custody"—I believed it was Demant, but I picked out Thompson—we had come with the women and children for a treat, not for business, and when I want beer I have it if I can pay for it, but it forms no part of my holiday programme; the principal thing is an afternoon cup of tea—I was in the trolley, the ladies were in the van, which was never more than about ten yards in front of us—my wife came in our van when we got near the Fox, on account of its being very warm in the van—the vans arrived about together—I never saw Mrs. Crook thrown out of the Fox, I only heard a few women jangling; that is the reason I did not go in—I never saw any woman with a whip—the prisoners struck sideways at the deceased, on the side of his head—I did not say at the Police-court, "I saw a woman strike the man not in custody with a whip"—I signed my deposition, which was read to me.
Re-examined. I have no recollection of having seen the prisoners before—Demant ran away, and my wife followed him—he passed me—Thompson went in another direction—I never left Hodge and Ames—I was about a yard from the deceased when he was knocked down.
ELIZABETH MILLER . I am the wife of the last witness—I was with the party at the Fox public-house on June 7th—when we got out we saw a disturbance amongst some women outside the Fox—the four prisoners were there—Barrell stood near me—Ames said to him, "You
look as if you had got a fighting pair of boots on," or some remarks to that effect about the boots—the deceased said they were Jim Smith's, or some Smith's, "last boots that he fought in, and he gave them to me"—Ames said, "You b——, I will have a fight with you "; then Ames and Thompson took their coats off, but Demant and Hodge did not, and the prisoners and the deceased went into the road—Hodge stood on the left, Thompson and Ames on the right, and Demant in front of the deceased, and the prisoners all struck the deceased, who fell backwards on the ground—two of them hit him at the side, one in front, and Thompson fell over him when he was on the ground—my husband and I helped to pull Thompson off—I said, "You have killed this poor man between you"—Hodge hit me on the side of my head, and said, "You b——, I will kill you, too"—Demant also hit me on the side of my head—Hodge and Ames went into the public-house, and my husband and I followed them—I heard my husband say, "You had better go and fetch a doctor; you have killed that man between you"—Ames shoved me against the counter and said, "Get out of my way, do"—he said to some women, "We had better get out of this before we qet ourselves into any other trouble"—my husband followed Ames and Hodge—I followed Demant to the Cock public-house, where he nearly gave me the slip—he was with a young woman, who left him there, and Demant ran up Cock Lane.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. Most of the men were in the trolley, but I was with a little girl and the men in the trolley—the van got to the Fox first—I did not go into the Fox till after the assault—Mrs. Crook is a neighbour—I did not see her being turned out of the Fox for being drunk and disorderly—the deceased had had no time to go into the Fox; he was at my side—the deceased never offered to fight any man—I never saw Mrs. Crook with a whip in her hand; I heard of it—I never heard my husband say, "We must not be drunk; we must all say the same thing"—I do not know Mrs. Lucy Phillips—(Called into Court)—I did not see that woman—my husband did not want to fight Demant—Fanny Rositer did not remonstrate, and I did not reply, "You can have a b——wipe in the mouth if you want one"—I have known the deceased about three months as Bristol; I never knew his name was Barrell till since his death—we were not drunk—Crook and I did not arm ourselves with whips—my son had a whip, and I have heard since that Mrs. Crook used a whip—I did not hear Barrell say, "Come and have a go with old Bristol."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I said before the Magistrate, "I was a yard behind the deceased when he fellony husband stood beside me at the time," but I was not asked about the quarrel—Thompson struck at the deceased, I said so before the Magistrate—I did not see him strike him—I said I did not know whether it was accidental or intentional.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. We started about the middle of the day from the Cornwall Road—we pulled up at Edmonton, at a beer-house, and drank beer out of one quart pot—we called at another public-house at Ponder's End—we had two drinks—we had dinner in Enfield, and two drinks—we did not stop again till we got to the Fox, between 6.30 and seven p.m., not later, because, when I was looking for Demant at the public-house I saw the clock was at 7.15—before starting we had a
pint of beer between three for lunch—I was not turned out of the Fox by the landlord—I was not in there with my husband.
ERNEST JOHN MILLER . I am a sweep, and the son of the two last witnesses—I saw the disturbance—I had been into the Fox—I heard Ames make a remark about the deceased's boots, and the deceased say, "These are Steve Smith's fighting boots"—Ames said, "Well, I will tight you, then," and took off his coat—the other prisoners were there—Thompson and the, deceased took off their coats, and crossed the road to fight—the deceased's hands were down, drawing up his gleeves, when they all struck at him at once—Ames stood in front of the deceased, Hodge and Demant one on each side, and Thompson struck over Hodge's shoulder at the deceased—I do not know which one hit him; they were all near enough to hit him—the deceased fell on his back—I got up in my pony and van and drove it to the Cock—a policeman came soon afterwards—I saw Ames and Hodge taken into custody—father followed them.
Cross-examined by MR. PUKCELL. I stood two or three yards behind the deceased—I said before the Magistrate: "The deceased fell on the ground at once. I was standing two or three yards behind him when he fell. I believe my mother stood by the side of the deceased"—my father and mother might have been closer to the deceased than I was—I could not swear that Thompson's blow reached the deceased.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. I only saw Demant quarrelling in the Fox—Crook was coming into the house when Demant tripprd her up—Demant stood on the step inside the door—he was in the room where the piano was—I saw no fighting there.
Re-examined. Hodge is the shortest prisoner—I had a whip—I drove the van—I took the whip into the Fox—after the deceased fell Crook took the whip from me and struck Demant with it.
SOPHIA CROOK . I am the wife of Henry Crook, of Tottenham—I was one of the party—I got out and went into the Fox, in a room where a piano was on the left-hand side—Mrs. Miller and another woman had a disturbance about a child, and one of the prisoners struck Mrs. Miller—I said, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, striking an old woman like that," and Demant shoved me out into the porchway on to the ground—someone brought me a glass of water—shortly afterwards Barrel was knocked down in the road—Ames said to Harry Crook, my husband, "You next"—I snatched the whip from Ernest Miller, who was beside me, and said, "Yes, and you next," and slashed at him with the whip—Mrs. Miller was in the house with Barrell's little girl—I was not before the Magistrate because my brother was dying; he is dead.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. We got to the Fox a little before seven—the quarrel was about about a woman named Kate pushing the child, and using bad language—I did not strike the deceased with the whip—I struck at the four prisoners—I was at the Police court, but not till the case wus over—I did not hear Mr. Miller say, "I will give them in charge; pull yourselves together; we must not be drunk; all say the same thing"—Miller was not drunk; we did not have more than three or four pots of beer among the party—the men were in one cart, and the women in another—we were all sober.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. Jangling was going on in the room—the landlord did not, to my knowledge, request Mrs. Miller to go out—I
was thrown out of the house into the porch way, ray elbow cut, and a lump came on my head—a glass of water was brought me, and my husband and someone else helped me up—Mrs. Miller was not turned out—she did not, to my knowledge, offer to fight anybody.
Re-examined. I am sure Demant threw me out—I never went in again—I was stunned by being thrown out.
GEORGE CHEESEMAN . I am a bricklayer, of 50, Cornwall Road, West Green—I went to the back of the Fox—when I returned I saw Mrs. Crook lying down—I saw Hodge, Ames, Thompson and Barrell, with their coats off—Ames said, "I'll fight you"—I said, "All right"—the deceased was then on my right—we had a round, and Ames knocked me down—when I got up the deceased was lying on the ground—before I was struck I had not struck anybody—received two blows at the same time—Hodge, Ames and Thompson were four or five yards from, the deceased.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. I do not remember seeing Demant.
MARY JANE SCALES . I am the wife of Robert Scales—I was one of the party at the Fox on Bank Holiday—I saw Mrs. Crook pushed out of the house—I saw Barrell and the four prisoners go across the road to fight—I saw Demant stand in front of the deceased arid, strike a blow—Hodge and Ames were three or four yards off, fighting another fellow—I crossed the road and said, "You have killed the man"—Ames said, "I did not do it"—I said, "That man did it," pointing to Demant—Demant said, "I know I did"—a little later, Ames, Hodge, and Demant went towards the Cock—I followed, and caught hold of Deraant—he twisted out of my hands—I said, "Come back; you have killed that man"—he said, "We'll meet you at the Cock public-house"—the deceased had not put his hands up before he was struck—Cheeseman is my brother-in-law—he was fighting Ames when the deceased was knocked down.
ROBERT SCALES . I am the husband of the last witness—I am a plasterer—I was called for the defence before the Magistrate by Ames—I know all the prisoners—I belonged to the party who drove up—I saw Mrs. Crook pushed out of the public-house—the deceased said it was a shame to see a woman knocked about like that—he said, "I have Steve Smith's fighting boots on, the last fight he had, and I will have a fight"—he walked up the road and pulled off his coat—Cheeseman said, "Let us go and look after him"—we went and found the others there and the women—Ames said to Cheeseman, "I will fight you"; then the rest came on, and the deceased was knocked down—Ames was four or five yards away—Demant was the one that struck the deceased; I only saw one blow—Thompson was dodging about, with his coat off; he was by the side of Demant when the deceased was knocked down.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. Cheeesman and Ames had a fight on their own account—Hodge stood beside Ames.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I said before the Magistrate, "I cannot say where Thompson was when the deceased was knocked down; he was not far off"—that is correct—I might be mistaken.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. The deceased was about five feet four inches in height, and weighed about twelve stone—he was bigger than Demant—I only saw one blow—it was from the front; the men faced each other.
Re-examined. The deceased's hands were not up when the blow was struck.
ARTHUR DAVEY . I am the landlord of the Fox public-house—on June 7th I heard a disturbance in the parlour between 6.30 and seven p.m.—I went into the parlour and saw Mr. and Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Crook—I did not recognise the prisoners—Mrs. Miller said to a young fellow, "I would wipe a boy like you across the mouth myself"—I managed to pacify them, and everything was quiet for a minute or so; then a woman got up to leave the room, and, as she neared the door, Mrs. Miller commenced to fight her; then the men took part, and I turned them all out who were in the scramble—I do not know the prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I have lived at the Fox all my life—the row was all over in about five minutes—they were quarrelsome, but not drunk.
Cross-examined by MR. STMONS. Mrs. Crook was nearest the door when I started turning the men out—she had to go first.
Re-examined. I did not let any of them come back—I have seen Mrs. Miller before.
THOMAS SLATER JONES . I am a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons, And Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians—I practise at Wood Green—on June 7th, shortly after eight p.m., I went to Wood Green Police-station—Barrell was lying on the floor unconscious, and bleeding heavily; his breath smelt of alcohol, and a little blood was oozing from the orifice of the left ear—I observed a bruise on the left side of the back of his head—I advised his removal to the Wood Green Cottage Hospital—the same evening I saw him again—he was dying, and I informed the police of the fact—on June 9th, with the assistance of Dr. Campbell, I made a post-mortem examination—besides the external injury on the back of the head, I found a lacerated wound behind the left elbow-joint, about an inch in length, and down to the bone—they might have been caused by his falling backwards on to the ground—on the covering of the skull was a discolouration corresponding to the external bruise, and extending downwards to the base of the skull, which was fractured—death was caused by hæmorrhage, due to the fracture and the pressure of a clot of blood, causing compression of the brain—the injury might be caused by a heavy fall on the road.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. He was so profoundly comatose I could not form an opinion as to his being drunk—when in the hospital he brought up a quantity of alcohol—I did not observe traces of any previous injury on the back of his head—the injuries were consistent with one or more blows.
Cross-examined. I should have expected to find a mark if he was struck while on his guard.
Re-examined. If the blows were evenly distributed over the whole surface of the jaw, possibly it would leave no mark.
JOHNSON LILLY (138 Y). I am stationed at Wood Green—on the even-ing of June 7th John Miller made a statement to me near the Cock public-house, and pointed out Ames and Hodge—I took them in custody, and charged them with assaulting Barrell—Ames said, "All right, we will go to the station; we did not assault the man; I know we are innocent"—Hodge made no reply.
JOSEPH CHAPMAN (Detective Officer). I am stationed at Wood Green—at 10.30 a.m. on June 8th, in consequence of information, I went to a factory at Wood Green, and found Thompson at work, where he is generally employed—I said, "Is your name Thompson?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you know me?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am going to take you into custody for being concerned with the others in custody in violently assaulting a man of the name of Barrell at the Fox public-house, Palmer's Green, and thereby causing his death. This is a serious charge against you, and I caution you that what you may say may be used for or against you in evidence"—he made no reply at the time, but on the way to the station he said, "I did not think he was hurt"—on June 14th, about 7.15 p.m., Demant surrendered himself at Wood Green Police-station—I knew he was coming, as I had made inquiries with a view of arresting him—I told him he would be charged with others in causing the death of Barrell, and I said, "You are defended by a solicitor I am given to understand"—he said, "Yes, I say nothing."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Thompson has worked at Barrett's factory all his life, and bears a respectable reputation.
Cross-examined by MR. WARBURTON. I have made inquiries about Hodge and Ames—they are bricklayers' labourers—they have been in regular work, and bear good characters.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONS. Demant was in a respectable situation, and bears a good character.
Demands Statement before the Magistrate: "I did not strike the man."
NOT GUILTY .
The prisoners were again indicted for unlawfully assaulting Frederick Barrell, and occasioning him actually bodily harm.
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. C. F. GILL, BODKIN, and ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted.
ELIZA BRYAN . I am the wife of John Bryan, of 111, Tichfield Street, Marylebone—I have known the deceased and his wife four years—they lived latterly at 147, Cleveland Street, occupying the back kitchen—on Monday, July 12th, I was in Mrs. Lawrence's company from about five p.m. till midnight—she was then the worse for drink—I accompanied her home—we got to 147, Cleveland Street, about 12.35 p.m.—her husband was in the room—they would not speak—there were no marks of violence on her then.
WILLIAM WEBB (394 D). I was on duty about two a.m. on July 13th, near Cleveland Street—I saw Arthur Lawrence, and noticed he had blood on his shirt—he made a complaint to me, and I assisted him to the Middlesex Hospital—I left him in charge of the surgeon, and went to see the prisoner—I asked her if she was aware of what had happened between her and her husband—she said, "No, I do not know"—I said, "He accuses you of stabbing him with a table-knife in the chest, and he is detained in the Middlesex Hospital till later in the morning"—she said, "I do not know how I did it, or what I did it with. I was drunk
at the time; I have only got two old table-knives in the place, and they won't cut butter; my husband only allows me 15s. a week to live on, and we are always quarrelling"—her face was very much swollen, which I thought was from crying; she seemed to be excited.
JAMES THEMLETT WILLS . I am house surgeon at the Middlesex Hospital—I attended to the deceased about two a.m. on July 13th—he was suffering from a wound on the right side, just over the sixth rib—the edges were clean-cut—I treated it, and stitched up the wound—it did not look to me a dangerous wound—at eleven o'clock that day he was worse; he was cold—he continued getting worse till he died, at 8.5 p.m. that evening—I subsequently made a post-mortem examination—I found a wound four inches and a-half deep, which had penetrated the pleura and the lung, wounding the lung and the sack, or covering, of the heart, scratched the heart, and wounded the diaphragm—the immediate cause of dwath was internal hæmorrhage—I had been shown a knife which might have caused the wound—I found blood-stains on the knife.
KATE LOVETT . I live at 78, Tonbridge Street, Euston Road—the prisoner is my daughter—she has been married six years—she has two children living out of six—I was standing at my door on July 13th, when the prisoner came up, and said, "Mother, you would not be laughing if you only knew my trouble"—I said, "How ill you look, come downstairs"—I took the baby, and she went downstairs with me—she said, "I believe my husband is dying; he was beating me so on the head on the night before, when I got in," and that she had been to the cupboard to get an egg and bacon out, and she asked him for the egg and bacon, and he said, "I have taken it to the shop, and cooked it," and he brought a penny-worth of cheese, and said, that was good enough for me, and I suppose the row began; and that he beat her so they really did not know what they were doing—she had a black eye on the right, and she said he was continually ill-using her—I knew he had ill-treated her, and four years ago, when carrying her twins, he brought a disease on her—I have witnesses outside.
ERNEST TONBRIDGE (Detective, E). I arrested the prisoner on the morning of July nth—I told her I was a police officer, and should take her for causing the death of her husband by stabbing him—she replied, I stabbed him on Tuesday morning, about one o'clock; I was just going to the mortuary to see him"—her eye was discoloured.
The Prisoner: I did not tell you I stabbed him.
JAMES MOORE (Detective, D). On July 14th I found this knife in the back kitchen of 147, Cleveland Street—I took the prisoner to Marlborough Street that afternoon in a cab—on the way she said, "My husband has been a brute to me; he gave me this black eye"—she pointed to her eye, which was discoloured.
WALTER SHROEDER . I was acting as secretary to Dr. Danford Thomas when he held the inquest on the deceased—I took down the evidence—the prisoner was called—the Coroner cautioned her that anything she might say would be taken down in writing, and might be used for or against her in evidence at another Court—then she made this statement, which I took down—it was read over to her—I saw her sign it. (Read: "I am the widow of the deceased Arthur Henry Lawrence; he was a compositor, aged 32 years, and lived with me at No. 147, Cleveland
Street, Marylebone. On Monday last I was out in the evening, and arrived home about twenty-five minutes to one a.m. on Tuesday. I found my husband at home, and Mrs. Bryan, who came home with me, left after five minutes. I had had too much to drink. After Mrs. Bryan left I believe I went and got the bread and butter and some cheese out. After that I think we began quarrelling because I had had some drink, and my husband struck me about the head. I do not remember any more till he said, 'Oh,. Maggie, you have done something. Then I saw him throw a knife away towards the fire-place. It was the knife produced. I said, 'What have I done, Arthur?' He pulled his shirt away, and showed me his chest, and I saw a cut of some kind, and then he ran out. I do not remember any more till I heard the bell ring and a policeman come. I afterwards went to the Middlesex Hospital with a friend, and she saw my husband. I did not go in and see him, but she saw my husband, and I waited outside with my children. If I struck my husband with the knife, I did not intend to do any harm to him. I have no recollection of taking the knife up and stabbing my husband. There was no one else in the room besides my husband, myself, and the two children."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I can say what I said last Saturday, and what I told to the Coroner. I can call several witnesses as to how he ill-used me."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DAVIIS Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 28th, 1897.
Before Mr. Recorder.
He stated, in the hearing of the JURY, that he was GUILTY on the Fourth and Fifth Counts (Concealing the turns of£150 and£300), upon which they found that verdict. — Four Months' without Hard Labour, being in, bad health.
MR. PBOBYN Prosecuted.
ROBERT SMITH . I am a rent collector, of 102, Wilmot Gardens—on June 25th, about midnight, I was returning home, and Birmingham, who I had seen before, stopped me and asked me for a light—I gave him one, and was walking away, when Rutherford, who I had also seen before tripped me up—we all three went down, and they got on my back—one of them kicked me—I held Birmingham down—we all got up together—Birmingham ran away and got a knife—Rutherford ran into the crowd—I
got home, and they caine and battered my door in—I evaded Birmingham's blows several times—they both pulled me out of the house—I cannot say that Rutherford struck me; Birmingham was the one; they used a knife; my wife went upstairs and blew a whistle; I was down on the ground then—the crowd then ran away—I had close upon £20 in my pocket, and I missed £5 as soon as this was over—I went to the station—next morning, when I was instructing a man to mend the door, Birmingham passed—I saw him on Sunday morning at the station.
Cross-examined. I am sure Birmingham had a knife in his hand; he stabbed me on the cheek with it.
MARY SMITH . I am the wife of the last witness—I saw Birmingham asking him for a light, which he gave him—Rutherford tripped him up, and they all fell together—he got up and came inside the door—Birmingham said, "Give me a kiddy; I will chevy him"—that is a slang word for a knife—my husband shut the door, and Rutherford got a bar of iron—they burst the door open as my husband and I were holding it—I went on the roof, and saw my husband on the step—I blew a whistle—I saw someone strike my husband, but I cannot tell who—I saw an iron bar or a stick in Rutherford's hand—the police arrived, and took my husband to the station.
GEORGE PRIDE (Detective G). On June 27th I found Birmingham in custody at the station—I said, "You will be detained here pending the arrival of witnesses against you for stabbing Smith on his right cheek, and stealing £5 from him"—about twelve o'clock Smith and his wife came and identified Birmingham, who said, "I did not stab him; it was Rutherford; the girl was there, and took part in it."
ALFRED GOULD (Police Sergeant, G). On June 28th, at 9.30 a.m., I was at the station—Birmingham said that he and Henson did the job—Henson was not there—Rutherford came to the station and said, "I want to give myself up for the purpose of clearing Henson and Gunnell"—those are the two women—"he said, "I will plead guilty at the station."
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Birmingham says, "Guilty of assault, but not of the robbery." Rutherford handed in a written statement to the effect that he saw them fighting, and went to stop them, but was attacked and stabbed Smith in self-defence.
Birmingham's Defence: Mr. Smith asked me for a light, and I said I had not got one; he struck me on my eye, knocked me down, and kicked me; I got up; I did not stab him.
Rutherford's Defence: I did it in self-defence.
R. SMITH (Re-examined). I do not collect any rents in that neighbourhood, but they know that I collect rents—I collect £270 a week.
GUILTY . Rutherford then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on January 20th, 1896, in the name of Alfred Baker; and three other convictions were proved against him. Birmingham was stated to be the associate of thieves and roughs. BIRMINGHAM— Nine Months' Hard Labour and Twenty Strokes with the Cat. RUTHER-FORD— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour and Twenty Strokes.
MR. FITZGERALD Prosecuted.
WILLIAM ROBERT HARDY ELLIS . I am a clerk at Ratclifie Highway—on July 1st I was in the Princess Alice public-house just inside—the prisoner and three or four others assaulted me, knocked me down, and robbed me of a purse containing two sovereigns and some silver—I had the purse out in the house, and paid for something—it was in my left trousers pocket—I am certain the prisoner was one of the principals—I called a constable, who went with me to Commercial Street Station, I saw the prisoner there, and identified him in the dock—I passed the end of Thrall Street, but did not see him—I do not think I went into Thrall Street—I had had three or four half-pints of beer, but was not what I call drunk—I am clear that the prisoner was one of the ringleaders—they hustled me and knocked me down.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I first saw you in the dock, when the inspector called you—I don't recollect your making any sign, and I don't think I said so.
CHARLES STEPHENS (177 N). Shortly after six on July 1st I was in Commercial Street, with another constable, and saw the prisoner, with three others, hustle and trip up the prosecutor, and run into Thrall Street—I kept the prisoner in sight, and took him at the Brick Lane end of Thrall Street, and told him I should take him for being concerned with three others in assaulting and robbing a man in Wentworth Street—he said, "Tou have made a mistake"—I took him to the station; he was placed in the dock, and was at once identified by the prosecutor, who said that he could not say whether he was the man who robbed him, but he assaulted him—the prisoner said, "I did not take the purse, but I know who did."
Cross-examined. I went into Thrall Street from Commercial Street—I did not stand at the corner of Thrall Street with the prosecutor; I crossed the road with him to arrest you—I knew you by name and by sight—I did not say that I took you "on suspicion" of being concerned.
JAMES WILSHIRE (50 HR). Shortly after six on July 6th I was in Commercial Street with Stephens, and saw the prisoner and three others trip the prosecutor up, and run away—he made a complaint to me, and we went and found the prisoner sitting on the footway, and told him the charge—he said that he knew nothing of it; he went to the station, and Brown identified him—he said, "I did not take the purse, but I know who did"—Brown said, "You were one of my assailants outside the public-house"—I knew the prisoner by sight.
Prisoner's Defence: You would not think for one moment I would go into Thrall Street and sit down, if the police were after me.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on April 1st, 1895, at Worship Street, having then been previously convicted; and four other convictions were proved against him.— Fourteen Months' Hard Labour and, Twelve Strokes witk the Cat.
The RECORDER considered that this was a case for a Civil Court upon which MR. ABRAM, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
MR. POYNTER Prosecuted.
HECTOR WALKER . I am a cabinetmaker, of 1, Everett Place, Islington—I only know Pinohion by sight; I do not know Mr. West—I was standing with a man outside an ice-cream shop in Hoxton, and saw the prisoners there—a gentleman went by on a bicycle, and they were both concerned in knocking him off—he got up and thrashed one of them—Pinchion said, "Puck, there are the f——s," and then he said to Rodway, "Hobnail, give me a knife; I will chiv them—the knife was closed, but he opened it, and went up Hoxton Street in the direction of Fanshaw Street, and as he went along he opened it, and then kicked a boy on his ankle, and then I saw him stab West with the knife—Stamp made a dash at him and caught his coat sleeve, and then made a dab at Poulton, and caught him on the shoulder—he went into a public-house and West went in and took the knife away—I do not wear a belt; Pinchion asked me at the Police-court if I did, and I said, "Never."
ROBERT WEST . I am a tailor, of 4, Crooked Billet Road, Hoxton—I was in Hoxton going home, end saw some chaps, and ran to see what was the matter—there was a rush of chapa, and I felt a blow on my chest—I ran after Pinchion into a public-house, and took a knife from him; I cut my thumb in getting it away—I then went to a doctor.
ALBERT POULTON . I am a glass beveller—I only know the prisoners by sight—on June 23rd I was in Hoxton Street with Berry—Pinchion came up and kicked Berry, and ran away—I ran after him, and saw him stab West—I did not see the knife—he then turned round and made a stab at Berry, and then stabbed me on my right shoulder—it has got well—he ran into the Adam and Eve, and West took the knife from him.
EDMUND STAMP . I am a stick-maker, of 26, Great Cambridge Street, Hackney Road—on June 23rd I saw Pinchion knock a man off a bicycler—he said, "None of these f——s will stick; I am the f——to stick"—I saw a knife in his hand and he struck West—Poulton and I ran after him, and he stabbed us.
HENRY BISHOP . I am a barber, of 5, Grantham Terrace—I was in Hoxton Street, and saw the prisoners together—I saw a man pushed off a bicycle; they ran away together—Pinchion came across to me, and said, "Do you know this f—? He sticks. I am the boy to stick"—I saw a knife in his hand, and he struck, and asked Rodway to give him a knife, which he did, and he said, "I will chiv him"—chiv means stab.
Cross-examined by Rodway. This was at the corner of Huntingdon Street—you were not present when Pinchion done the stabbing.
By the COURT. I am not the leader of the rival gang—this is not called Bishop's gang—my real name is Bishop—only one other lad goes about with me; his name is William Blue.
GEORGE PRIDE (Detective, G). On Sunday night, June 11th, about 11.15, I took Rodway in Hackney Road, for being concerned in wounding West—he said, "I was with Charley in Hoxton Street; he asked me to lend him my knife; I did so, and he ran at some chap and stabbed him; when I saw him do it I ran away; Coffee-shop Bill and a chap named Dean was with us; I have not seen either of them since."
RODWAY— GUILTY . The Surgeon stated that the stab was over West's Jieart, and that he was almost dead, but that the knife must have been very blunt. Pinchion had been convicted of larceny, and was stated to be the leader of a gang of roughs.
PINCHION— Fifteen Moths's Hard Labour. ROD WAY— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HODGSON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
EDWARD BURDOH (Detective Sergeant, K). On July 8th, at 10.30, I saw the prisoner in the Bow Road—he said, "Are you a police officer?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I want to give myself up for bigamy"—I asked him the circumstances—he said, "I married my first wife at a church in Essex Road in 1882. I left her in 1884. I married my second wife at a registry office in Liverpool Road, Islington, in 1892. I thought at the time my first wife was dead, as I had not seen her since 1884; but now I know she is not dead, when we get to the station I will give you all the information"—at the station he said that his wife lived at 107, Old Street, St. Luke's, and his second wife at 14, Stockmar Road, and he believed the witnesses to the first marriage were both dead—his wile came to the station, and brought the certificates—he said they were quite correct.
Cross-examined. This is not a police prosecution—the solicitor, I believe, represents the Married Women's Protection and Legal Aid Society—when she brought the certificates she said that she never would have taken proceedings if he had paid her maintenance—her age is fifty-seven, and he is sixty-one.
WILLIAM MUMPORD . I am general assistant relieving officer of the Holborn Union—in 1886 the prisoner's wife was chargeable to the Union, and an inmate of the workhouse—I searched, and found him—he was taken before a Magistrate, and acknowledged her as his wife; he was charged with neglecting her, and it was adjourned for fourteen days—he took her out on March 24th—she has been back to the Union since.
ELIZABETH SHARPS . I went through the form of marriage with the prisoner on December 26th, 1892, at a registry office in Islington—I had known him over three years; he described himself as having a wife, but said that he had not seen her for many years—he said that about a month before we married.
Cross-examined. I am not a party to these criminal proceedings; he has been a very good and affectionate husband to me—he said that he had not heard of her for sometime, and did not believe she was alive—I never had a eross word with him—I do not subscribe to this society.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. RANDOLF Defended.
FREDERICK McKAY . I live at 39, Avenue Road, Brentford—up to July 17th I was shopman at Messrs. Barker's, and thirteen months of the time shop-walker—the prisoner made my acquaintance, and suggested more than once that I should give—he him orders; I eventually consented
came in on July 17th with something written on paper, which he gave me, and which I destroyed—it was, "Sugar, milk, chocolate"—he said, "Give me a pound and a-half of chocolate, and charge me one pound"—he put 2s. 8d. on the counter—I put a pound and a-half of chocolate in the parcel, and charged only one pound—the chocolate, sugar, and two tins of milk came to 2s. 8d.; he took the parcel and walked out—Mr. Green spoke to me—I handed the money in at the meat department instead of the grocery department—I was brought to Mr. Baker by the manager, Mr. Newborn—the same kind of thing had occurred before with reference to coffee, Liebig, and other things—besides money, the prisoner has given me ties and gloves—I was acting as shop-walker sometimes when he has come and spoken to me, and I told him I would not serve him—there was a break then for two months—I was given into custody, taken before a Magistrate, and afterwards called as a witness, and gave evidence.
Cross-examined. I know him as a traveller—I first knew him twelve months ago—he tempted me three months before I fell—I was perfectly honest before that—I had nothing to do but to turn round to the shop-walker and say "This man is tempting me to steal"—I did not do that—this was a busy time on July 17th—he made purchases in three other departments—the quantities of goods were not on the paper—I paid in the 2s. 8d. because I saw that the goods which I had made up were being observed; so I paid at another desk—I made out the bill, and then took the money—I was taken to the Police-court and remanded—after that I saw the solicitor to the company, and made a statement—I was put in the dock in the morning and pleaded guilty, and was recommended to mercy and fined, and went into the witness-box against Brocard.
WILLIAM CRAGG . I am a buyer in the grocery department of John Baker and Co.—I know the prisoner by sight—on July 17th, inconsequence of information, I kept observation when he was being served, and saw McKay make up the parcel—I found 11/2lb. of chocolate made up in three packets, and communicated with Mr. Green—the customer does not have a bill given him; the assistant takes it to the nearest desk.
Cross-examined. The customer does not pay the money into the desk, but the assistant.
By the COURT. The chocolate is 1s. 4d. per lb.—the prisoner was away in another department while the parcel was made up, and when he came back he took it away.
MR. GREEN. I am a shopman to Baker and Co.—on July 17th Cragg made a communication to me, and I saw the prisoner go to Mr. McKay, write something on a paper, and give it to him—I saw the parcel made up: there were three packets of chocolate, each weighing half a pound—Brocard went to the counter, got his parcel, and went off—I went to the desk, and then to the fish desk, and could not find the bill, but I found it afterwards at the meat desk; it should have been "1 1/2lb. of chocolate, 2s."—I spoke to the manager.
Cross-examined. I do not know that he was originally an apprentice there—I know he was away when the parcel was made up.
he made an answer—a constable was sent for, and he was given in, custody.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was agent for three large Paris houses; I don't know their names—he was apprenticed to one of the Bakers seventeen years ago; he is a Frenchman.
THOMAS RYAN (Detective Sergeant, F). On July 17th I saw McKay at the West London Police-court; he made a statement to me, which I took down, and he signed it—at 4.30 that afternoon I went to the prisoner's house, and told him I was a detective officer, and was going to take him for receiving half a pound of chocolate from McKay, who was remanded for stealing it—he said, "I did not receive it; I went to the shop and bought some Nestle's milk and sugar and chocolate, for which I paid; I have ordered goods from this man before; I have given him a tie and a pair of gloves, for he has been very attentive to me; I ordered half a pound, and no more, and paid 2s. 6d. for some meat and eggs and butter"—his wife produced the chocolate from a drawer; three half-pound packets.
By the COURT. He did not say that McKay had given him more than he ordered.
Cross-examined. He talked in the Gaelic style, very fast—he said that his mother-in-law was not a fool—she brought the chocolate—it was not there when I went in—he sent for her, and she produced it from a drawer in the room—I did not point to it and say, "Why, there you have got the one and a-half pounds"—he did not say, "If he gave me three half-pounds it is wrong"—he said, "I know I have done wrong; I ought not to have accepted it"—the gist of it "was that the half-crown covered what he had ordered—I did not say, "Why, you have been giving this man presents"—the three half-pounds were very readily produced—I went to arrest him for receiving a half-pound more than he had paid for—the groceries were produced first by the servant girl, and I then asked for the chocolate, and his mother-in-law produced it—I did not say that I had given this man presents, too; nor did somebody with me say so; I had heard something about it.
Re-examined. He has been in England some time: time enough to learn the English language well—he has been known at Baker's seventeen years.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY.— Recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of his character. Judgment Respited.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, July 29th, 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and BODKIN Prosecuted.
THOMAS HOLLIS (21 G). On June 7th I surveyed the flat of three rooms at 89, Stepney Green Buildings, occupied by the prosecutor—this plan of the rooms and the position of the furniture is correct—the distance from the nearer side of the bed to the window in the larger bedroom is 6 feet—the window is 4 feet 4 inches wide, and about 5 feet high,
overlooking an area about the size of this Court; the only way into this flat is through these two doors from the staircase leading to the other flats—it is the fourth or fifth storey.
MAX RUBHNOWITCH . I am a waterproof-maker—I am married, and have four children—they were living with me at 89, Stepney Green Buildings till the end of May—I have lived in England a number of years—in July last year I returned from America, where I had been living four or five years, and my wife followed me in October—I have known the prisoner from Christmas night—my wife was with me—I saw the prisoner a few times after that—when I came home from work at tea-time I noticed him three times in my place; one day after the other—that was about two weeks after Christmas—after that I had a suspicion that he had something to do with my wife—I spoke to her about it—we were then living at 60, Mare Street, Hackney, which we left on May 3rd, and went to Stepney Green Buildings, where my wife lived with me till June Jst—she came in some nights very late—I gave her my money, 28s. to 30s. a week—on Satur-day, May 29th, the prisoner was at my rooms—I asked him to come—I told him I was speaking with my wife to-day and she told me all the truth, and he was to come and talk the matter over and settle it—he agreed to come—I spoke to him of what my wife had told me in the daytime, that she loved him and he loved her—he asked me what I thought of it—I told him if I was in the secret, if she was not loving me, she could go to him, only my three children would not go—after a few words between the prisoner and my wife in English, which I could not understand, she said, "No, I am not going away; I am going to stop with my husband"—then they went away together—I stayed at home that Saturday—my wife came home at two o'clock on Sunday morning—I did not see the prisoner that Sunday—my wife went out, and returned at twelve o'clock at night—the next morning, Monday, May 31st, I went out before six to my work, leaving my wife in my rooms—I returned about eight p.m.; my wife was there—she went out at 8.30, and returned at 12.30, when I had some conversation with her—on Tuesday, June 1st, I went in the morning to my work, leaving her in my rooms—I came back at 10.30 a.m.; she was at home—in the evening, about eight, she dressed to go out; fihe went out about ten p.m.; she did not come back that night—I have three rooms—the outer room has a door on the stairs—I had one key, and my wife had one of that door—behind that room are two bed-rooms, ours and the four children's—my bed was in a corner—I kept a spittoon in the sitting-room—I did not move it into the bedroom—when my wife went out I asked her for the key—she took it with her—I went to bed about eleven p.m.—I turned out the gas in the bedroom—I slept on the outer side of the bed, away from the wall—I woke up, feeling a cut over my throat—when I opened my eyes I saw the prisoner standing over the bed, and something swinging over me like a knife—I had in my mind to say "What's the matter?" when he pave me the other cut, and I became insensible; when I came to I found nobody, and could not speak; all the wet blood was coming through, and I did not know what to do—I went to my children's room, and tried to wake up my eldest boy, to send to my brother-in-law; he could not understand me, and when he opened his eyes he started halloaing; then I was afraid the little children would
be woke up; I put my feet into my boots, without stockings, put on my trousers, and went to my brother-in-law, Mr. Greenfield, who lives in the same block—I saw the spittoon in the bedroom—Mr. Greenfield took me to the London Hospital—I stopped there six weeks—when I felt the cut I was lying on my back.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I returned from America because the climate did not agree with me; the last summer especially I was weak with the heat—I left before my wife, to find her a home before I broke up her home there—I left her seventy-five dollars, and she had the papers and the furniture to sell—it was hard raining on the Tuesday when I went to work—I got wet, and returned to change my things, saying I would come after dinner or the next morning, and I felt too unwell to work—I walk to my work in half an hour or less—I took an umbrella, but it did not protect my trousers—I got home at 10.30, and stayed till two o'clock—I asked my wife if she would like to go for a walk with me; she said she had no time, she had to finish some work, I could go by myself—I went out and returned about 7.30—I took a car from Stepney Green to Stratford and back, and then had a walk—I did not bring anything home—I had no row with my wife—when she started dressing I said, "What is the use saying you will live with me, like you said on Saturday, and that you are going to stop with your husband, if you want to leave me, do not come any more"—she said she would go, and I asked her for the key; she said, "You must ask me if I give you things;" then she went away with the key—I did not tell her not to return; I told her, "If you want to go and see him every night, then you can live with him altogether"—then I asked her for the key, and she said she should want it; she would not answer me one way or the other—when I was in the hospital, I know now, my wife occupied the rooms—I did not object; I was with myself, and did not know it then; she pawned my things, and when I knew it I objected; the superintendent saw the four tickecs—I knew it about a week afterwards—I had no usual time for work; I went at six or 6.30; the time is eight, but I went before—I was not repimanded if I did not come at the exact minute—I work by the week—I did not want to turn back in the rain, having started to work.
By the JURY. The outer door fastens itself—that is the only door that is locked.
ROSE RUBRNOWITCH . I am the wife of Max Rubenowitch—I made the acquaintance of Caplan in November last—I came from America in November—I have four children by my husband—the youngest is three years old—I lived with my husband at 89, D Block, Stepney Green Buildings, from March—my husband complained of my intimacy with Caplan two weeks after our acquaintance—on May 29th the prisoner was at my husband's rooms—I told my husband I loved Caplan, and he said if I wished to separate from him and live with Caplan, I should have perfect liberty to do so, but if I would be true to him, as I was before, he would let me stay with him, and my answer was that I should remain with him—Caplan shook hands, and went out—I was with my husband on the Saturday, Sunday, and Monday night—on the Tuesday my husband came back from his work about 10.30 a.m.—on the Monday I was out till eleven; on the Sunday I was
home at seven; on the Tuesday I dressed to go shopping, after eight p.m.—I left my husband's rooms between ten and eleven—I did not have the key—I went to No. 24, E Block, of the same buildings—the prisoner was there—we went to get lodgings for me in Victoria Park Road: we were too late—I was walking about all night; the prisoner was with me—I learned my husband had his throat cut the next night, June 2nd, at eleven o'clock—I went there to see my children—I did not get in at all till Thursday—the door was opened for me by the caretaker, and detectives were there—Caplan was not there while my husband was in the hospital—I remained there with my four children till my husband came out, some weeks afterwards, when I went to No. 24, E Block, where I found Caplan—my husband and I had two keys—I knew the police were looking for one—I found the key in a place where I used to put the dirty linen, in the scullery, about a week after the police had been looking for it—I was alone when I found it.
Cross-examined. My youngest child is three years old—I know no instance when it did not disturb my night's rest—when my husband came home on Tuesday morning he said he had to go to the Police-court to identify some goods that were stolen from where he works—he did not change his clothes; he put a clean shirt front on—he stayed in till two o'clock, then went out, saying he would be back at four if he had not to go back to work—he did not invite me to walk with him that day—he returned at eight p.m.—he brought a bottle of whisky—I had some with him—as I sat at the table for supper, and as I was dressing to go out, he asked me where I was going to, and I told him I was going to shop, and then I would be up at 24, E. Block, as I knew a lady friend of mine was ill, and I wanted to see her—he told me I should not go up there, because of meeting the prisoner, perhaps, who was friendly—I said, "I have to go out, anyway, and I shall go up there," but he said I should not, and I said if he insisted upon my not going where I liked I would not obey—he said I must leave or obey—he asked me for the key twice—I then put it on the table and left—I went to 24, E Block—I did not know the prisoner were there—we stayed five or ten minutes, and went out together—I did not tell him till we got out, when I said I had had a quarrel with my husband, and he told me to leave—you said I had done a foolish thing to leave him that hour of the night—then we went to look for a room for myself—we were together till 7.15 a.m., when you went to work—I went to look for lodgings—the next night I went to Stepney Green Buildings at eleven o'clock—I walked up the steps, and knocked at 89 three or four times, and there came no answer—one of the men who had followed me said, "What do you want here?"—I said, "It is my place, I live here"—he said, "Why, don't you know there was a murder here last night?"—I said, "No"—he said, "A man was murdered here last night"—I said I did not know—he said, "What do you want here?"—I said, "I have come to see the children"—he said, "Oh! your children are all right"—I said, "Where are they?"—they told me at my sister's; so I wanted to go down, but he detained me, and would not let me pass; he said I must wait up there, and I waited for about ten minutes; then a detective or a police-sergeant came up, and took me to the Police-station, where I passed the night—when the question of separation arose between me and my husband on Saturday, May 29th, he threatened to take his life.
Re-examined. I have not said that before.
BABNETT GREENFIELD . I live at 114, E Block, Stepney Green Buildings—I am the prosecutor's brother-in-law—about 5.45 a.m. on June 2nd I heard a knocking at my door—I went and saw Rubenowitch with his coat tied round his throat—he opened his coat and showed me his throat, which was cut—I took him to the hospital—he made a statement, and mentioned a name.
Cross-examined. The knocking was strange to me so early in the morning—he knocked again before I could dress myself—he opened out his coat and said, "Caplan done it"—I fetched some clothes from the hospital, took them home, and then sent them to Mrs. Rubenowitch, at No. 89—I did not send the key by the same messenger; my wife sent up the clothes the next morning—I am aware she got the key, but I do not know who brought it—when I came to dinner my wife told me the key was in the clothes—it was sent up to Mrs. Rubenowitch.
HAROLD BASDEN . I am house physician at the London Hospital—I saw the prosecutor when he was brought in between six and 6.30 a.m. on June 2nd—he was wearing a pair of trousers and a coat, or something round his throat—there was a transverse wound, dividing the largest cartilages and the larynx completely; the cartilage was also split vertically and a great deal bruised—the wound was about four inches long—immediately above was a smaller one parallel to the larger one, and deeper on the left side than on the middle line, but it appeared to be a superficial incision—the larger wound divided the thoroid cartilage—it divided the windpipe—it was two and a-half to three inches deep—great violence must have been used—it was probably done with a blunt instrument—my opinion is not positive, but it probably was inflicted by someone else—it was straight across, commencing from left to right, or from the side close to the edge of the bed—I formed my opinion from the smaller wound, because it was superficial—a left-handed man would be more likely to inflict it that way, and a right-handed man from right to left—a man lying on his back unconscious, the bleeding might stop itself, and he would recover consciousness.
Cross-examined. The man had some clots of blood on his coat when admitted—the blood would dry in about a quarter of an hour—blood was all about the front of his chest.
HENRY CHARLES HAMILTON . I am Divisional Surgeon—I practise at 427, Commercial Road—on Thursday, June 3rd, I was asked to go to the Police-station, where I saw the prisoner—he was wearing a coat—I found a mark on the left sleeve, and several marks on the trousers—I removed the mark on the left sleeve—his trousers were afterwards handed to me, together with this knife—I examined them—I found no bloodstains—afterwards, the same day, I went to the bedroom at No. 89, Stepney Green Buildings—the furniture was in the position shown on this plan, only the chair occupied more room between the chest of drawers and the bed—the outer pillow had been slept on; the inner had not—on the lower part of the outer pillow was a stain of blood—the outer half of the bed had been used—near that pillow was a large blood-stain; a quantity of blood had
been spent there—the general appearance of the bed indicated no struggle—the bed-clothes were thrown back—a spittoon was partially under the bed—there was blood on it and in it, about a tablespoonful altogether—there were no marks of blood on the floor of the bedroom, but on passing from the bedroom to the sitting-room, at the corner of the table, close to the entrance door, was one spot of blood, and tracing round towards the children's bedroom were eight or ten other spots, which might have been caused by a person walking along that portion of the floor—the outer margin of the bed was not stained with blood; the blood was confined to a patch more towards the centre—a white day shirt was on the chair between the chest of drawers and the bed.
Cross-examined. There was no trace of blood from the bedroom to the passage—the blood was the result of bleeding from one spot—there was a clear margin of three inches on the outer side of the bed not stained—the blood could not have dropped from the pillow to the spittoon—whether the wounds were inflicted with the left or right hand would depend on cne position of the man using the knife, and possibly of the person in bed—supposing he was on his back on the left-hand side, the man would inflict the wound with his fist towards the chair or head of the bed, and cut backwards across the throat, commencing from the outer or right-hand side, and travel towards the left—he would not lean over—he would stand sideways towards the bed.
Re-examined. From the condition of his hands, the prisoner is a left-handed man.
JAMES HAWSE . I am caretaker, of Stepney Green Buildings—when the prosecutor took two rooms I handed him two keys—they are different—I cut this key myself—this is one of them—I remember the prisoner being taken to the hospital—I knew he was there about six weeks—I saw the prisoner on several occasions going towards the rooms No. 89—the outer door is opened by a key from the outside, but is not fastened inside—it is opened with a handle—a different staircase leads up to No. 24—it is on a different block.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you there before the Occurrence.
MAX RUBENOWITCH (Re-examined). This key would be about the same as my wife used—the other would be the same—if I saw the two I could not see the difference—my key was in the pocket of the clothes taken from the hospital—I do not know why my clothes went back; I did not know they went till I came out of the hospital.
ABRAHAM COHEN . I am the proprietor of mackintosh works at Skinner's Court, Cambridge Heath—the prosecutor worked for me in May and June last—I have known him some years—on Tuesday, June 1st, I arrived at the works about 10.30 or 10.45 a.m.—I asked my manager, "Where is Rubenowitch?"—he said, "He is gone home; he is not very well."
Cross-examined. I did not see him that morning.
GEORGE COX (Detective Sergeant). I was making inquiries, and examined the front door of the flat—I found no marks of forcing of any kind—the door opens with a key from the outside, and with a handle inside—on June 10th Mrs. Rubenowitch handed me this key, as having been found in the place that day—I had searched the place with Dr. Hamilton
to find it, but without success, on June 2nd, about eight, a.m.
Cross-examined. I saw the scullery where the key was found—it had been used for coals, but there was a lot of dirty linen there—the key was at the bottom of the cupboard—I found linen with blood upon it—I examined the cupboard, and right through the place; I was there about two hours and a-half—I was not there from the 2nd till June 10th—I have made inquiries about you—you work at 8, Fore Street—I had a pair, of your scissors—your employer told me you went to work from May 24th daily, and your hours would be nine a.m. till six p.m., and that on the: second Wednesday you left between five and six; that would be when you were arrested.
By the JURY. There are three large gates in front of the buildings, which are closed at eleven p.m. and twelve p.m. on Saturdays—three staircases are open to anybody during the night; after eleven a tenant can go through the caretaker's room from the street.
EDY KAMENETZKY . I live at 114, Brodie Street Buildings—I have three rooms—the prisoner was a lodger—on June 1st he went out about 9.30 p.m.—I saw his room the next day—he had not slept in his bed—he could lift the scullery window and get the key ana get in.
Cross-examined. The key was left at night time—you lodged there eight months—I only saw you with a little penknife—I never saw you fight or quarrel—you could come in without my knowledge.
By the JURY. I never found his bed not slept in before.
MICHAEL THORPE (Detective Sergeant). About eleven a.m. on June 2nd, acting on information, I was, with Constable Harnett, in the neighbourhood of Stepney, looking for the prisoner—I saw him in the White-chapel Road aoout 9.40 a.m.—Harnett stopped him—I told him he would be charged with attempting to murder Max Rubenowitch, at 89, Stepney Green Buildings, the previous night—he said, "Very well; where are you going to take me?"—I replied, "Arbour Square Police-station"—he said "All right; there is no occasion to hold me; I will go quietly with you"—I conveyed him to the station—at the station he was charged—when the charge was read over he made no statement—I searched him; I found on him a small sum of money, a cigar-case, and this pocket-knife—I conclude he is left-handed from seeing him repeatedly write with his left hand.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that no one saw him enter or leave the place on the night in question, and no stains or indications of the crime were found on him; that he frequently visited 24, Stepney Green Buildings, but there was no pre-engagement to meet the prosecutor's wife there; and he suggested that she should return to her husband, because it was so late; that she replied that she could not, because she had not the key; that as he loved her, he tried to get her lodgings, but failed, and so they were walking about till the morning, and he was entirely unaware of what had happened; that youny children were in the house who would have been disturbed by a stranger but ike prosecutor, whose evidence was contradicted by his wife with regard to his own movements on the day in question, had sought to avenge his
enemy by attempting to commit suicide, so as to ruin him: that he had eleven years' character, that he had never stained his hands with blood, nor even lifted them up with malicious intention; that he knew nothing of the crime, and had not the least intention or desire to commit it.
DR. BASDEN (Re-examined). The wound had been inflicted about two hours when I saw it, and I do not think he could have been unconscious long.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. RANDOLPH Defended.
THEODORE BARTEL (Police Inspector). On October 15th, 1896, I arrested the prisoner on another charge—I took him to Bow Street Police-station—he gave his business address as 8, Philpot Lane, City, and his private address as 23, Bruce Road, Bromley-by-Bow—he described himself as a chemist and patent agent—I searched him—I found on him a pocket-book, with the ten coupons produced—two are of six francs each, of the Ville de Paris Loan of 1871, Nos. 0315731 and 0386388; five are coupons of the bonds of the SociétéFonciere Lyonnaise, Nos. 101981 to 101985; and three coupons of 17 guilders 50 cents each, of the Royal Netherlands Three-and-a-Half percent. State Debt, Nos. 069766, 072684, and 072685—the last three are payable on April 1st, 1896—the Ville de Paris are payable on January 1st. 1894—the Socie'te Fonciere coupons are payable to bearer, and not dated—I asked him where he got them from—he declined to say—I afterwards went to No. 8, Philpot Line, City—on the door was the name, "Metropolitan Syndicate"—I went into the office—I saw Mr. Holmes, who is a witness—I opened the door with a key found on the prisoner—after making a statement to Mr. Holmes, he handed me those four bonds of Ville de Paris, two of the Loan of 1871, Nos. 0328985 and 10455, and the others of 1886, Nos. 068537 and 068538—those bonds have the coupons attached—they are half-yearly bonds—the first two are January 1st, 1897; the other two September 15th, 1896—I went back to the station, and told the prisoner I had seen Mr. Holmes, and showed him the bonds Mr. Holmes had given me—I said, "Are these your bonds? and did you receive an advance of money from Mr. Holmes upon them?"—he said, "Yes, that is quite correct"—attached to them when Mr. Holmes handed them to me was a receipt for £45 by Panse from Mr. Holmes (produced)—I afterwards went to 23. Bruce Road, where the prisoner occupied two rooms—I found chemicals in bottles on the mantelpiece—the prisoner was remanded, and the following week discharged—I kept possession of the bonds—he never claimed them—on Friday last, July 23rd, I received another warrant from Bow Street Police-court for the prisoner's arrest on the present charge—I arrested him that day at his house in Bruce Road—I read to him the warrant—he said, "Very well; I may as well tell you now that I got these bonds from" a man whose name and address he gave; "I am sorry I ever met this man; I wish I had never seen him; the man has always misled and deceived me from the beginning;" and "Mr. Holmes has been refunded this £45 by this man."
Cross-examined. (The witness wrote the name of the man whom the prisoner said he got the bonds from, and handed it to Counsel.) The prisoner gave me correct addresses—that was on a charge which had nothing to do with this—he has been at the same address ever since—he told me he dealt in chemicals—there were chemicals in his room—from inquiry, I know he has lived in the Bruce Road for some time.
Re-examined. The charge in October was that of stealing bonds abroad—I know the name given well—he does not carry on a legitimate business, such as a stockbroker, in which he would have dealings in bonds.
WILLIAM ALEXANDER HOLMES . In April, 1896, I allowed the prisoner to use my office—the name "Metropolitan Syndicate" was put up—in July, 1896, I lent him some money on bonds which he deposited with me—I now know what the Opposition List is—I was shown one, but did not know anything about it—I subsequently found the numbers were in Opposition, but the prisoner told me it was a friendly opposition—as far as I recollect, he said the List contained bonds objected to, because it was a friendly and not a business transaction—he used the words "friendly stock"—they were Ville de Paris bonds; I do not know the numbers—they were the bonds I handed to the police.
Cross-examined. I knew the prisoner wanted the money to lend somebody else—I recognise the name on this envelope—I do not know whether the money was to be lentjto him—at Mr. Pause's request, I wrote to the solicitor, requesting him to pay the man—something was said about a bill, which I did not pay much attention to—I went through an Opposition List, and these bonds were not in it.
Re-examined. I did not look at the date of the Opposition List—I have seen the man referred to—I do not know what his business was.
GUSTAVE AUGUSTIN MASSON (Interpreted). I live at 98, Grande Rue Montrouge, Seine, Paris—on September 13th, 1893, eight bonds were stolen from my apartments, among them two bonds of the Ville de Paris Loan, 1871—I recovered one—the one lost is 0315731—the coupon (produced) was attached to it—the robbery was effected by breaking the door—I gave information to the police at once—I stopped the payment at early as possible, so that they would appear in the Opposition List.
GUSTAVE FERDINAND LEPEVRE (Interpreted). In October, 1893, my offices were at 45, Rue la Pelatier, Paris—on October 22nd a robbery was committed at those offices, and ten securities stolen of the Soeiété Fonciere Lyonnaise—amongst the coupons attached to those I recognise five now produced—the bonds have not been recovered—I gave information at once to the police, and entered opposition next day.
PIERRE POLLET . I live at 32, Chaussée de Namur, Louvaine, in Belgium—on February 21st, 1896, I handed to Mademoiselle Brouquet three bonds of the Netherlands State Debt—the coupons produced are three of the coupons attached to those bonds—the same night I heard they had been stolen—I gave notice to stop payment.
MARIE BROQUET (Interpreted). I live at 75, Rue des Bougards, Louvaine, Belgium—M. Lefevre handed me three Netherlands bonds on February 21st, 1896—I placed them in my apartment—they were stolen the same evening during my absence, together with my jewellery and money.
things stolen were the two bonds of the Ville de Paris Loan produced—I immediately took steps to stop the bonds.
FRANCOIS SEBASTRON (Interpreted). I live at 11 and 13, Boulevard Street, Paris—on May 21st, 1896, my apartment was broken into and a number of securities stolen, among them the two produced of the Ville de Paris—the coupons have since been taken from them; one from each—I gave notice of the robbery, and stopped the payment of the bonds.
HARRY HERBERT GETHEN . I am a stockbroker, of 16, Tokenhouse Yard—between April 10th and 13th, 1896, the prisoner handed me three bonds of the Netherlands Royal Debt to sell for him, Nos. 069766 and 672684 and 672685—they realised £827s. 6d., less half-a-crown for commission—the coupons were payable on April 1st; therefore all coupons afterwards would be ex-coupons, so that the prisoner would retain them if he had them.
Cross-examined. It was an ordinary transaction, at a fair market price—I have known the prisoner for years—he was introduced to me by a person with whom I do business of a bond fide nature.
Re-examined. My previous business with him was selling bonds, French Rentes, and Brazilian and Russian Securities—I never bought any for him that I recollect.
MR. RANDOLPH submitted that the indictment could not be sustained, because the prisoner had the bonds in his possession before August 14th, 1896, when the Statute under which the prosecution was instituted came info operation. (See Regina v. Dobell, 11 Cox's Reports, page 207.) The COURT held that the Act included the present case.
GUILTY .—The prisoner was stated to have been the associate of bond thieves.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, July 27th, 1897.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ALEXANDER DONALD FRASER . I am the landlord of the Veteran public-house, 247, Whitechapel Road—on June 26th the prisoner came in about 6.30 p.m., with another man, for a glass of mild ale and a pony of bitter—I served him—he gave me half-a-crown—I examined it, and told him it was not good enough for me, and I handed it back to him—I said nothing further—he seized the glass of beer, but I took it from him—this is the coin (produced)—I noticed a dent in the him—the same mark is there now—I took the beer back, and he went out and said he could get served elsewhere—I called the police immediately, and gave a description of him—about eight p.m. I was sent for to the Police-station—I went and picked the prisoner out from among other men—I know the George public-house in Whitechapel Road; it is about 150 to 200 yards from my house.
HERMANN FRANCIS BROHFIELD . I keep the Old George, Whitechapel Road—I was serving on June 26th, and the prisoner called for a glass of ale and a pony of bitter—there was a shorter man with him—he gave me half-a-crown—I found it to be counterfeit (produced)—this is it—I
put a mark on it—I seat for the police, and gave him into custody, with the coin.
GEORGE DYMAN (348 H). On June 26th I was called to the Old George—Mr. Bromfield stated in the prisoner's presence that he had given him a bad half-crown for two drinks—the prisoner acknowledged giving it to him—I asked him if he knew it was bad—he said, "No; I got it down the road"—I searched him, and "found 13s. 6d.: four florins, five shillings, sixpence silver, and 1 1/2 d. in bronze, all good—he refused his name and address—subsequently he gave his mother's address—I took him to the Police-station—he was detained for inquiries, and afterwards identified, among several other men, by Mr. Fraser, the land-lord of the Veteran, as a man who had attempted to pass a bad half-crown some time previously—in answer to the charge, he said, "Yes; can I get bail?"—he said he got the half-crown from the Bluecoat Boy public-house in Norton Folgate, in change for half-a-sovereign—Mr. Bromneld handed the coin to me—I marked it at the time.
FREDERICK WILLIAMS . I keep the Bluecoat Boy, Norton Folgate—I was serving in the bar on June 26th—I did not see the prisoner on that day—there was no fold changed that day—I should know, because it would be placed on the till—the police called my attention to the matter on the 26th.
Prisoner's Defence: I was paid two half-sovereigns by my employer. I went with some friends to the Bluecoat Boy. I changed a half-sovereign. The barmaid put it in a glass, and gave me 9s. 6d. change. Later on I went with another friend into Mr. Eraser's public-house. I called for a glass of ale and a pony of bitter. I got hold of the first money in my pocket to pay for it. Mr. Fraser said, "This is not good enough for me." I thought he would not serve me. I took up the half-crown, and we went to the next house. I called for a pony of mild ale and a pony of bitter. I never put the half-crown back in my pocket; I put it on the table. He said, "It is not a good one," and I said, "Well, if it is not good, send for a constable." If I had known the coin was bad, I should never have attempted to change it at another house.
GUILTY .—Three previous convictions were proved against him.— Four Months' Hard Labour.
MR. COOPER Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SCHONS . I am a wire-worker, of 7, Church Street, Chelsea—on June 30th, between three and four, I went into the White Horse public-house, Chelsea—I had 2s. d. or 2s. 9d. with me—the landlord's son was in the bar—I called for three-halfpennyworth of rum—I noticed four men and a woman in the bar—the woman is the prisoner Ellen; I cannot swear to the men—they asked me to treat them—I said, "Give them a pot"—their pot was soon out, and they asked me to treat them again—I would not—I drank the contents of my glass—as I was going out of the bar the prisoner Ellen put her hands over my mouth, and got hold of my throat;
the others rifled my pocket—I made a kind of gurgling noise, and the land-lord's son came to my assistance—they got 2s. 7d. or 2s. 9d.—I went to look for a policeman.
BERTRAM WHITTAKER . I am the son of the landlord of the White Horse public-house—I as serving in the bar on June 30th—the three prisoners were in the bar when Mr. Schons came in—I have seen them before as customers—they asked him to stand a drink, and he paid for a pot of ale for them and three-halfpennyworth of rum—I went to the other end of the bar—I heard a sort of growling—I went back and saw the three prisoners surrounding Mr. Schons—the female prisoner had her hand over Schons' mouth—Blake had him round the throat—Brookhouse had hold of his left arm, and was going through his pockets—I jumped over the bar and released Schons—he was winded, and could not tell me a word till the three prisoners had gone out—the female prisoner said, "I was correcting him; he has been saucy."
JOHN RICHARDSON (Detective Sergeant, B) On July 7th I was in the King's Road with Detective Jeffreys—I arrested the prisoner Blake near the Police-station—when I got him to the station I told him he would be charged with stealing about 2s. 7d. from an old man in the White Horse public-house, Church Street, Chelsea—he said, "All right"—I saw Brookhouse the same evening in the Police-station—he came with the female prisoner's sister—they asked the officer on duty what Blake was charged with—I spoke to Jeffreys—I went out with him, and saw him arrest the female prisoner, who was waiting for Brookhouse and her sister to come out—I told Brookhouse I was going to detain him for being concerned with Blake and Mrs. Blake in stealing about 2s. 7d. from an old man in the White Horse public-house last Thursday—he said, "You had better be careful what you say; I can prove where I was last Thursday"—I said, "I think it was last Thursday, but I am not sure"—all three were charged—the female made no reply—Blake said he knew nothing about it.
THOMAS JEFFREYS (Detective, B). I arrested the female prisoner on July 7th—I told her I was going to arrest her for being concerned in stealing about 2s. 7d. from an old man in the White Horse public-house.
The prisoners in their defences stated that they were at the public-house, but that they were innocent of any part of the robbery.
GUILTY of Robbery only . Brookhouse then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in December, 1891; Blake to a conviction of felony in September, 1893; and Ellen Blake to a conviction in February, 1896. Several other convictions were proved against Brookhouse and Blake.
GUILTY.—BROOKHOUSE and BLAKE— Three Years' Penal Servitude each;
ELLEN BLAKE— Three Months' Hard Labour.
MR. KENRICK Prosecuted, and MR. ABINGER Defended.
ISADORE NASCHELLSKI . I am the prisoner's brother—I live at 46, Rathbone Place, Oxford Street, and am a tailor—in 1883 I was in Gnesen, in Germany—I was present at my brother's marriage to Rieko Wresinska—the Chief Rabbi performed the ceremony—my brother came to England nine years ago—he did not bring his wife with him—there
were three children—I have never seen them—the marriage was the same form as in England—I heard last September of the second marriage—my brother invited me, about three days after wards, to aparty—I had had a conversation with him about their proposed marriage—I told him not to marry again, as he would be liable for bigamy—he said, "Don't be alarmed; it will be all right"—the second wife is my sister-in-law.
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been established nine years in London as a tailor—I heard last September that he was going to get married—he had been courting her for seven years—I cautioned jthe second wife on one occasion against marrying the prisoner—I was not invited to the wedding; it was to the party—I was on good terms with my brother—I have been in London twelve years—my wife's name is Esther—I do not know whether this letter is in her writing—I have been married ten years—I did not demand £140 from the prisoner as a consideration to send the first wife out of the country—I never said that in the presence of the second wife's father—I did not say in Mr. Thomas Brady's presence that I would prosecute the prisoner unless he gave me £140—I am not aware that Dr. Cahn, of Paris, gave my brother a divorce in 1890—he told me he had a divorce—the Chief Rabbi cannot dissolve a marriage unless the wife is present—T do not know that in 1889 his first wife refused to live with him, and wrote to him that she could get as many men as she liked to sleep with ia Gnesen—I do not know her writing—I do not know whether my brother has been a good husband to his second wife—I do not know who started this prosecution—I could not stop the marriage; I cautioned him not to do it.
Re-examined. I do not know why my brother went to Paris to get a divorce.
ISADORE MALLINSKI . I am a grocer, of 27, Fieldgate Street, White-chapel—the prisoner has called on me two or three times—I showed him some letters from his wife, and asked him why he did not provide for her—she had Britten to me—he said he would see them starving before he would give her a penny.
There being no proof of the certificate of ike first marriage, the COURT directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, July 28th 1897.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
After consulting with MR. BIRON, the prisoner withdrew his plea and PLEADED GUILTY.— Judgment Respited.
537. BARON BARNETT (43) , Receiving a parcel of leather, value £5, and ten skins, value £5 10s., the property of George Henry James, and inciting George Peach Watkin and Arthur Johnson to steal the same.
Lane, near Paternoster Buildings—I saw the prisoner there, about 7.10 p.m., with another man—they were both standing outside the public-house—I kept observation on them—about three minutes afterwards I met them in Paternoster Square—the other man was standing outside the prosecutor's premises—the prisoner was on the other side of the road in Paternoster Square—a few minutes afterwards I stopped Blagrove in Warwick Lane—he had a parcel on his shoulder—I took him to the Police-station, and charged him—I went oat again about ten minutes afterwards, and met the prisoner at the top of Warwick Lane, leading into Newgate Street—that would be about five minutes'walk from Paternoster Buildings—I went up, and said, "I have a man at the station detained with a parcel of leather; he says you are his governor; is that so?"—he said, "Yes, I have bought some leather"—I said, "Have you got a receipt for it?"—he said, "No, I have not"—he then took this letter from his pocket and said, "This is a letter I have received"—it is unsigned and torn—the only address on it is "Rose Street," at the top—he did not say whether he knew the man who had written the letter—I took him to the Police-station, and charged him—he said he had been in the habit of buying leather cuttings, and had he known what was in the parcel he would not have bought it.
Cross-examined. He gave me his right name and address—he showed me the piece of paper without pressure—he said he had bought the leather—I have made inquiries about Barnett—I have found nothing against him for the last twenty-five years.
GEORGE PEACH WATKIN . I live at 60, Inworth Street, Battersea—I was in the employment of Messrs. James for twenty-two years as a leather-cutter—I first saw Barnett in July, 1896, when he came to the firm to purchase some goods—he settled the price he was to pay for them with the manager—he had a conversation with me when the manager had gone—he asked me if I could make it better for him—I understood that he meant could I make it better for him by giving him better stuff than he had bargained for—I did not consent at first—he went away—he came back the next day—he suggested the same thing again—I finally gave way, and promised to give him some better stuff', and also to let him have four sacks full of pieces of leather that he had not purchased at all—he came a day or two afterwards for the sacks—I was to receive 30s. for the four sacks—there was no arrangement as to the better quality—he took the four sacks away the next day or the day after—I had taken the stuff that was in the sacks out of the stock—it was not my duty to enter up the goods that went out, but it all ought to have been charged up—I ought to have reported the sale to the manager, and he would have made the entry—I did not do that—when Barnett took the sacks away he handed £1 to Costa—he had paid 10s. down—Costa and myself divided the money—we had 15s. each—Barnett came back in about a fortnight, and asked if there was anything further—I said, "No"—he asked when there would be—I said I did not know—he went away—he came again in about a month, and asked if there was anything else—I told him "No"—he asked me if I could make up a parcel and let him have it unbeknown to the firm—I gave way, and made up the parcel.
By the COURT. The total value of the stuff he had altogether would be
about £40—a man named Johnson was in it besides Costa and myself—Costa, Johnson, and myself received between us £5 and £6 altogether.
Re-examined. The day before Barnett was taken, I met Johnson in the street—we met Barnett in Paternoster Square—he asked me if I could get him anything—I gave a parcel to Johnson on the Wednesday—I saw Barnett that day—he asked for more—the next day, Thursday, I made up this parcel (produced)—Johnson came and fetched it—I got the stuff out of the stock—I was not present when Johnson handed it to Barnett—that parcel was stolen—I was sent for by my employers on the Friday—I made a statement to them some days after, such as I have de-tailed in the box now.
Cross-examined. I had been robbing my employers since I knew Barnett—I became a thief a day or two after I knew Barnett—I had been twenty-two years with my employers—they had been good employers to me—I had been an innocent man up to that time—I made a complete statement to my employers on the advice of a friend named Derby—I did not make the statement until my employers knew of my crime—I think I said at the Police-court that it was partly to save myself that I made the statement—I did not make the statement, knowing it was false, and that Barnett was an innocent man, in order to shield myself—when Barnett first came to the firm I knew he was recommended by a gentleman named Marr—he came openly to the firm the first time, and saw the manager, and bought and paid for the stuff after it had been: weighed—Blagrove took the stuff away in some instances—Barnett himself took it away on possibly five occasions—Barnett tempted me to steal the stuff—on two occasions I wrote, and asked him to come and fetch it—I know Johnson—I did not tempt him to steal the goods—I told Johnson I was going to write to Barnett to come and fetch the stuff, but I did not tempt Johnson on the transaction Johnson was in—Barnett saw Johnson first before he saw me—I did not promise Johnson anything—he understood that he was to have half of what I got—I did not tell Johnson on the second occasion that I was going to write for Barnett to fetch the stuff—it was by word of mouth—when I met Barnett on July 3rd in the street, Johnson was with me, and he said he could get the stuff out—I do not recollect hearing Johnson swear that I did the whole transaction, and that he only looked on—when we knew we were discovered, Johnson and I went to Barnett's house—I had been before—the first time I went for some money—on the second occasion we went to find out whether Barnett had been arrested—we knew that Blagrove had been arrested—there are about forty or fifty employe's on the premises—Barnett only came openly to the firm when he bought the stuff in the first instance—he came to the premises, of course, but he did not see any of the representatives of the firm.
Re-examined. Barnett used to come between eight and 8.30 a.m. for the stolen goods—the warehouse opens at nine, the workshops at eight—there are premises in Paternoster Square and Paternoster Buildings—part of the time, in the first transactions, we had a place in Rose Street—the manager was in Paternoster Buildings—I arranged the time with Barnett when he could call for the stolen goods with safety.
By MR. COHEN. I cannot say whether I swore at the Police-court that
in most of these transactions Barnett came to the premises openly—in some cases he did, not in most.
ARTHUR JOHNSON . I was a porter in the employment of Messrs. James Brothers for about eight years—I first saw Barnett on January 18th, at the top of Rose Street—Mr. Blagrove was with him—I did not have a conversation then with him—I next saw him about three weeks afterwards, at the top of Rose Street—I and Watkin handed him a parcel of leather cuttings—I did not know how they had been come by—I did not see Barnett give Watkin any money—I got 4s. from Watkin—I knew I was acting dishonestly; that was what I got the 4s. for—it was five or six months after that when I saw Barnett again—Blagrove came to the warehouse on that occasion—I saw something handed to him—I went out shortly after, and had a drink with Barnett and Watkin—I did not see Barnett give Watkin money—I received 5s. from Watkin; that was for helping in the theft—I did not see Watkin make up the parcel on the Wednesday before July 1st—Watkin handed it to me; I took it down, and gave it to Blagrove—he was with Barnett—I received nothing on that occasion—I saw Barnett and Blagrove next day, July 1st—I got no money then—I received 3s. the night before for the last parcel—I got 12s. altogether.
Cross-examined. I have never committed any theft before this occasion—Watkin induced me to do these thefts—Barnett did not speak to me about it—Watkin told me he was going to write to Barnett to call for some leather—Watkin gave me money, but never promised me any.
By the COURT. I was to get money if I got the stuff out.
JOHN COSTA . I am twenty-three years old—I was in the prosecutor's employment for about three years and a-half, making the leather cases—I first saw Barnett about eleven or twelve months ago—I have been discharged in consequence of what took place—Barnett saw the manager when, he first came—I am not sure whether he afterwards had conversations with Watkin—I know his man came for the sacks—I saw the sacks taken away—I think more sacks were taken away than had been paid for—when the first sacks were taken away I went outside, and saw Barnett and his wife—she gave him some money—Barnett handed me a sovereign, which I gave to Watkin—Watkin gave me 10s. of it back—I did not know what it was for; I only guessed—I was sent for by the manager to pack the things up.
By the COURT. I thought Watkin had something over; I did not know what it was—it is robbery if a servant sends out more than what is paid for—that is the only transaction I was concerned in—I got another 5s. from Watkin afterwards.
Cross-examined. Watkin tempted me—this transaction that I speak of was an open deal at the warehouse through the manager—I was, sent by the foreman to help Watkin with his work.
WILLIAM JOHN BENNKTT . I am manager to Messrs. James and Co., wholesale manufacturers—I first saw the prisoner in July of last year—he came to Paternoster Buildings—he asked me if we had any pieces for sale—I said, "Yes"—I took him across to a building we had in Rose Street—Watkin was in charge of the room—I sold Barnett the pieces for £5 14s. 9d.—Watkin was present—Barnett said he would call for the goods next day—he paid for them the next day or the day after—I
cannot tell you the number of sacks he bought; the weight was 6 3/4 cwt.—he paid me in cash—I have seen him once or twice since—he came to make inquiries as to goods; I told him we had none—we have had no further dealings with him—Watkin was not allowed to sell anything without my permission—there is no entry of any other sale at the premises where Watkin was at work—this (A parcel of leather) is oar property; it is worth £4 or £5—it was never sold by us—I did not know it had gone—we received nothing for it—we do not sell these goods at all—we are manufacturers; we only sell the scraps.
Cross-examined. Mr. Marr sent Barnett to us—we have known Marr for years as a respectable man—Barnett behaved like a respectable tradesman in the only transactions we had with him—he agreed to the price, and paid us—I saw him on several occasions, and told him there was nothing.
The prisoner received a good character:
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT—Friday, July 30th, 1897.
before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
GUILTY of the attempt .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
539. FRANK ENGLAND (24) PLEADED GUILTY to three indict-ments for stealings, while in the service of the Post Office, three postal letters containing a book, a steel razor, and a packet containing £20, the property of the Postmaster-General. He received a good character, but was stated to be eccentric.— Discharged on Recognizances. And
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
JOHN SIME . I am a dairyman, of Carlisle Road, Leyton—on Wednesday, June 30th, between eight and nine p.m., I saw my pony in Fraser's Nursery Lane, where it was turned out—I received information the same evening; I went in search of it—not finding it, I communicated with the police at Lea Bridge Police-station—from information, early on July 1st I
went to that station, and afterwards to Caledonian Road Station, and from there to the green-yard, where I identified my pony—I afterwards went to Lea Bridge Station, and charged Vance with being concerned with Palmer in stealing my pony—I subsequently charged Palmer with being concerned in the theft.
THOMAS FRITH . I am a licensed hawker, of 36, Victoria Place, Barnsbury—between three and 3.30 p.m. on June 30th I was in Jay's Buildings, Winford Road, Barnsbury—Vance brought a pony, which he offered to sell for £2—he said a man was waiting in Bryan Street—I went away to get the money—when I came back the pony was there, but not Vance—I kept it till about 6.30, when I reported it to the police.
Cross-examined by Vance. I left my boy with the pony—I should not have bought it of a boy—the inspector told me to bring it to the station, and I brought it.
WILLIAM JOHNSON . I live at 6, Victoria Street, Barnsbury—on June 30th, about one p.m., Palmer whistled at my window—I looked out and said, "Have you got no work?"—he said,"No; I have borrowed £6, and have bought a pony"—he asked if I could find a stable, and send a boy to meet the pony at Lea Bridge Road.
Cross-examined by Palmer. You did not say you were going to borrow the money, but that you had borrowed it.
GEORGE SAUNDERS (419 N.) I am stationed at Lea Bridge—from information I received on July 2nd, about 11.45 p.m., I went to 29, Edward's Road, Walthamstow, where Palmer was in bed—I told him to get up and dress himself; I was a police constable—he said, "I have not done anything to-day; I have been at work all day; the only thing I know anything about is, the other day a boy said, 'I have a pony; put a piece of rope on it'; I said, 'I won't have anything to do with it,' and walked away"—I told him he would have to accompany me to the station—Vance was there—he said, "Don't tell any lies; you helped me put the rope on"—Palmer said, "And then I walked away"—they were charged with being concerned in stealing a pony, value £4—they made no reply.
STEPHEN MURRAY (Detective Officer.) About 12.15 a.m. on July 2nd I saw Vance in Winford Road, Barnsbury—I told him he was alleged to have offered to tell a pony to Mr. Frith, of Victoria Street—he said, "Yes, quite right; I bought it for 32s. of two men in Lea Bridge Road"—then he said, "I will tell you the truth; I do not want to get into trouble; I was taking it to a costermonger in Victoria Street, I forget the number; I was to have had 5s."
Vance produced a written defence, stating that Palmer offered him 5s. to take the pony to sell for £2, and to say he had bought it for 32s. 6d., and afterwards asked him as he had no room for it, to sell it for 35s., and to say that his friend Harry had told him to sell it; but he would not bring Harry into it; and then he said he would put it with his uncle's horses for sale, where it would fetch £3, and then he would buy another for£2 and start business with a cart.
GUILTY —PALMER— One Month's Hard Labour.
VANCE, who was stated to have been influenced by Palmer— Discharged on his own Recognizances.
MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.
GEORGE LAWRENCE RICARDO . I live at 79, Pembroke Road, Waltham-stow—I am assistant to Mr. Willis, cycle-maker, of 1, Pembroke Terrace, Lea Bridge Road—on July 3rd the prisoner came into the shop and said he wanted a large knife for scraping the mud off the mud-guard—I told him we had none—he said, "Show me what you have"—I showed him some knives—he took one up and put it down again, and said it would not do—after be had gone out of the shop I missed this knife (produced)—he did not seem to know what he was doing—he ran into the shop.
THOMAS TYLER . I am ostler at the Bakers' Arms, Leyton—on July 3rd, about 4.30, I saw the prisoner struggling with the barman—I said, "Now then, keep off my friend; I'll have no row here"—he went away—about five minutes later I was sponging the horse's mouth, and the prisoner ran up to me, and said, "You b——, I will murder you," and jobbed me in my hand with this clasp knife, and cut my knuckles; I stopped him with my hand, and dodged him round a trap; then I got him between two doors and then outside; I bolted the door, and slipped through the wicket-door, and saw him running down the road—I ran after him and caught him—he was given into custody.
JOHN FRANCIS BUTLER HOGAN . I am a qualified medical practitioner, practising in Lea Bridge Road—I was called by the police to see Thomas Tyler—I found him suffering from an incised wound three-quarters of an inch long at the base of his right forefinger, and another slight abrasion at the back of his left hand—they were not serious, but would cause pain—this knife or a smaller one would have caused the injuries—the knife is practically new and sharp—I do not think it was used with full force.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was under the influence of drink, and I do not remember what I did in consequence of a long drinking bout, therefore I do not consider myself responsible for my action on that day."
He repeated the same statement in his defence.
GUILTY .— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. METCALF Prosecuted.
BYAKO DINO (Interpreted.) I am a waiter on the P. and O. s.s. Bengal, lying in the Royal Albert Docks—I left the shipat eight p.m. on July 16th to make some purchases—I was on my way back about 10.30 p.m.—I was sober—I stopped at a coflfee-stall near the Custom House, and had a cup of coffee—about five minutes after leaving I noticed the prisoners following me—it was dark—neither of them spoke to me—Taylor stood by my side, and struck me with his open hand, and then he struck me on my nose with his fist—blood flowed
from my nose and ear—I was knocked down from the effect of the blow on my nose—Eagle was close on the other side of Taylor, but he did nothing and said nothing—while I was on the ground Taylor took my watch and chain—the watch was in my pocket, and the chain fastened to my coat—when he had seized the watch he ran away—Eagle ran with him—I followed them for some distance, but lost sight of them in the dark—I made a complaint to Police Constable Fenner—I went with him to the coffee-stall—there were several men there—I recognised Taylor, and put my hand on his shoulder and said, "You are the man who has taken my watch and chain"—that was half an hour after I was robbed—I identify them both—it was a dark place—I saw the men at the coffee-stall when I was first there, and recognised them when they came up to me—I was standing at the coffee-stall two or three minutes before they followed me—I had never seen them before.
Cross-examined by Taylor. I lost my watch about 10.30; I reported it half an hour afterwards to a constable I met in the street.
ARTHUR FENNER (234 K). I was on duty in Victoria Park Road at 12.16 on July 16th—the prosecutor came up to me, bleeding from his right ear very much, and also from his nose and mouth—I went with him to a coffee-stall at the corner of Frederick Road, Victoria Dock Road—there were several men there—the prosecutor did not identify any of them—while we were waiting there two men came up from the direction in which the prosecutor had been robbed, and from the direction in which they ran off—immediately they came up the prosecutor touched Taylor on his-arm, and said, in broken English, "You are the one that robbed me and stole my watch"—I told Taylor he had better go to the station—when the prosecutor pointed him out, and said, "That is the man who hit me, and took my watch," he made no reply—I took Taylor to the station—I did not take Eagle, as I knew where I could find him—Taylor made no reply to the charge—he was brought before the Magistrate the same day—the same evening, at 10.40, I was in Freemason's Road; Eagle came up, and asked me how Taylor got on—I told him I should arrest him—I had been looking for Eagle all day—he said, "I have heard that you have been looking for me, and I may as well go to the station with you quietly"—he made no reply when charged.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate: Taylor says: "I do not want to say anything, or to call any witnesses." Eagle says: "Mr. A. Dowdy and Mr. Burton, they were the men I was working for, were going by in a gig as I stood at the coffee-stall on the Saturday morning. I saw Mr. Dowdy, and said, 'I was accused of stealing a watch last night from a black man.' He said, 'As I drove by Whiteman Street last night I saw two men knock a black man down and take the watch, but I cannot describe the two men that did it.'"
Witnesses for Taylor.
ALFRED JOY . I live at 134, Elizabeth Street, North Woolwich, and am a dock labourer—I know Frederick Taylor—on July 16th he was at Caledonian Road along with me at the market, trying to sell a pony—we got there about 2.30 and left at five o'clock—we got to Woolwich about 6.30—I put the pony in the stable—Taylor and Palmer went to the Californ; I wenttheir also—we played tibbit till eleven o'clock—I left Taylor at 11.45 at the Oaks—that is two milss and a quarter from the
Custom House—he left to catch a train—I heard from his mother that he had been arrested.
Cross-examined. His mother told me of his arrest at the Californ, between ten and eleven on Saturday morning—I heard he was remanded till the following Friday, for a week—I went to the Court with Palmer, to be a witness for him—the Court had not started, and we went and had a glass of shandy—Taylor knew we were coming—I can only account for his statement to the Magistrate that he did not want to say anything or call any witnesses, as I expect he knew he was free of the charge, and did not want any witnesses—I did not see anything of Eagle on the night—I noticed the time I left Taylor by a large clock—I was not in the Victoria Dock Road that night—I am with Taylor a day or two a week—Eagle is not much about with me—I work for Mr. Butler, as. a dock labourer—I was last engaged there a fortnight ago.
JOHN PALMER . I am a coal-porter—I was with Taylor and the last witness on July 16th from one o'clock to twelve—at a few minutes to twelve, while the last witness was relieving himself, Taylor said, "Jack, I am going to catch the last train up"—I said, "I will tell Joy you are gone"—the train goes to the Custom House; it takes five minutes
Cross-examined. I have never been charged with any offence except sometimes having a drop of drink too much.
CHARLES GRACK . I live at 8, Hubbard's Road, Custom House, and am a fitter's labourer—I was with Taylor on July 16th—I was on the station, and Taylor came up, and said, "Are you coming up?"—I left Taylor by the Freeman's Road about 12.15—I did not go to the coffee-stall.
Cross-examined. I did not see Eagle; I do not know him to speak to—this was the first time I had seen Taylor and Eagle together—I heard of the charge the same Saturday—I did not go to. the Court; I was at work.
Witnesses for Eagle.
JOHN BROWN . I am a labourer, of 25, Hill Street, Custom House—I know Eagle—he was at work with us a week last Friday, taking fifty-six horses up—I was with him from six till 11.15 p.m.; we all rode in a van—Eagle left us in the Victoria Dock Road to go houoe—he gets jobs taking horses up.
Cross-examined. Eagle was at work for Mr. Dowdy a week ago last Friday night—Eagle left Spitalfields before Mr. Dowdy—we left about ten o'clock—we all rode down the road together in Dowdy's van—we stopped at the Stainsborough—it was 10.50 when we left Mr. Dowdy at the Stainsborough; that is two miles from the Victoria Park Road.
Cross-examined. I did not go to the Police-court and give evidence, because I was at work butchering in Plumstead.
Eagle's Defence: I left this man at 11.15. I stopped talking to two or three chaps. As I was going on my way home I met Taylor, and he said, "Have a cup of coffee?" I said, "No." He said, "Have a cup of coffee, and I will go home." When I got to the coffee-stall there were two constables and a darkey. The darkey said Taylor was the man. They took Taylor, and did not take me. I saw the constable the next
evening, and asked how Taylor had got on. I walked straight into the station with him.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Lawrance.
MR. BYRON Prosecuted, and MR. COUNSEL Defended.
HENRY MEAKINS . I live at 62, Surrey Row, and am a ware-houseman—I have known Holland some time—early on April 30th I met him in the New Cut, and we walked on to the Railway Tavern, Blackfriars Road, which is also known as the Engine—about one o'clock we met Barry, and stopped and talked for ten minutes—I said, "I must go home, or I shall be shut out"—Holland said, "I am going home with Barry," and they walked on, Barry having been drinking—a few yards further, I saw two men coming down, with whom both collided—Barry struck one man, and knocked him backwards against the kerb, and Holland struck the other on the left side—I was five yards away—I saw Sullivan fall backwards—Holland and Barry ran away, passing me—I heard Holland say as they were passing me, "I think the man is killed."
Cross-examined. I saw a blow struck, but nothing else.
JAMES COUGHLAN . I am a labourer, of 41, Stanley Street, Deptford—on May 29th I was with Sullivan from about 12.30 to 1.30 in Black-friars Road—we met four or five men, and edged toward the kerb to avoid them—Barry hustled against me; I asked him what it was for—he knocked me down into the road—I attempted to rise, and got struck two or three times in my face—it is not true that I said, "Do you want to fight?" and that Barry said, "I do not want to fight; I am going home"—I did not strike anybody—when I got a short distance I saw a small crowd, and went back, and found my friend lying on the ground, bleeding—I gave evidence against Barry at the Police-court, and he was sentenced to two months' hard labour for the assault upon me.
Cross-examined. I had been drinking with the deceased from eight till one, or 1.30—Barry and another were fighting when I got back to the crowd to pick my friend up—two or three minutes elapsed—four or five were along with Barry—I did not see Holland strike a blow—Sullivan was sober—I know of no grudge between Sullivan and the prisoner.
ROBERT BARCLAY (256 L). About 1.30 on May 3rd I went to a crowd in Blackfriars Road, and saw Sullivan lying in the roadway, with his head on the kerb—I took him to St. Thomas's Hospital—I afterwards saw Coughlan, who gave me information.
Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner there.
ALFRED JOHN MARTINEAU . I am house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—on the early morning of May 20th Sullivan was brought in unconscious, bleeding from his right nostril and right ear; he had an abrasion under his left eye, and a contused wound at the back of his head—he remained in the hospital till he died, at 11.30, the same day—I
made a post-mortem examination, and found a wound at the back of the skull, down to the bone, and a fracture, starting from the front, passing through the base of the skull—death was caused by the laceration of the brain on the left side, caused by the fracture—it would be consistent with his being knocked down by a blow on his eye, and falling against the kerb.
Cross-examined. It might have been caused if he fell while drunk—the mark on the eye was an ordinary abrasion, which appeared to have been caused by a blow from a fist—the wound was quite fresh—he had been drinking, but his unconsciousness may have been due to the injury.
JOHN WILLIAM BURROWS . I am clerk to Mr. Braxton Hicks, the Coroner for the South-Western district of London—I produce the depositions taken on June 4th, 10th, and 19th—Mr. Schrceder, the Deputy Coroner, was acting for Mr. Hicks—on June 19th Holland gave this evidence, after being duly cautioned: "I am a dock labourer, and live at St. Olave's Chambers, Borough Road. I am eighteen years of age. On Saturday evening, May 29th. about midnight, I was in the New Cut, Lambeth, and left the Crown public-house when it closed, I was in company with some male friends. On leaving the Crown I met Henry Meekings, and we walked as far as the Engine (the Railway Tavern), in the Blackfriars Road. We met Patrick Barry there, and as he appeared to be the worse for drink, I agreed to see him home. When we got as far as St. George's Circus, he turned back to go to Union Street, and I accompanied him. As we were going along two men came along drunk, and the four of us collided together in the Blackfriars Road. Then we stopped, and one of the men we met said to Barry, 'What! do you want to fight?' and I replied, 'I am going to take him home.' After that the man now known to me as Coughlan said, 'Do you want to fight?' Barry said, 'No, I do not want to fight; I am going home'; and with that Coughlan let out, and hit Barry in the mouth, and then Coughlan ran away. I was getting Barry away, when Sullivan hit me, and I turned round and hit him back; Sullivan fell down on the pavement, and Barry and I then walked away."
HENRY HANCOCK (Detective Sergeant, L). On June 12th, as Holland was going into the Olive Branch public-house, I arrested him—I told him he would be charged with causing Sullivan's death—he made no reply.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
545. THOMAS EVANS THOMAS (23) PLEADED GUILTY to committing an act of gross indecency. (His brother stated that a sack fell on his head some years ago, and that he had been childish ever since.) Six Weeks' Hard Labour. And.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. WARDS Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH, 1897.