CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 13TH, 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,
INCLUDING CASES COMMITTED TO THIS COURT UNDER ORDER IN COUNCIL PURSUANT TO WINTER ASSIZE ACTS OF 1879.
Held on Monday, December 13th, 1897, and following days,
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., I one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON. Bart., M.P., Sir WALTER WILKIN , Knt., K.M.G., and Sir STUART KNILL , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., QC., M.P., Recorder of the said City; ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Esq., JOHN POUND , Esq., WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR, Esq., FREDERICK PRATT ALLISTON, Esq., JOHN KNILL , Esq., and SAMUEL GREEN , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Tenniner and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
THOMAS HENRY GARDINEK. Esq.
RICHARD CLARENCK HALSE. Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
DAVIES, MAYOR. SECOND 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, December 13th, 1897.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. HORACE AVORY Defended.
WILLIAM HARRIS . I am a hall-keeper in the office of the Daily Telegraph—on the night of November 4th, about 9.50, the messenger being out, I was left in charge—the defendant came in and in my presence wrote out this paper to be inserted as an advertisement, and it appeared in the paper next day—this is it (This was headed "Colonel Aloysius Jose Gordon Kane" and offered a reward to any one who would forward to Mr. John Fenn, solicitor, of 171, Queen Victoria Street, the present address of Colonel Kane, late of Lombard Street) that advertisement appeared in what is called the agony column—one shilling extra is charged for that column.
Cross-examined. I know that he has been to Mr. Fenn's office—I served a writ on him in some bankruptcy proceedings.
COLONEL ALOYSIUS JOSÉ GORDON KANE . I am a Lieutenant-Colonel of the National Guard in the State of Washington—I hold a pension for wounds, not for service—I live at 10, Hanover Square—I know the defendant—I made his acquaintance on July 13th this year—he knew
my address 10, Hanover Square—he has been to my club, the Piccadilly, and to St. George's Club—I am not a member of that club—he called at Hanover Square once—he has dined with me at the Piccadilly Club, the last time he called was on September 22nd—my address has been in the London Directory from 1894 to 1897.
Cross-examined. I have had business with the defendant—I have not offered to procure for a friend of his a colonelcy in a volunteer regiment—I know a Mr. Calvert—he is not a friend of the defendants—he did become a colonel of a volunteer regiment—I do not know what he paid for it, I got nothing—I think he was to make a donation of £600 to the corps; they were to give me something; that was not my suggestion, it was Mr. Curtis's—I believe he is here—it was Mr. Curtis who introduced the defendant to me—he said that Mr. Calvert wanted a colonelcy for particular reasons—that he was a candidate for Parliament—I was to introduce him to a colonel of another corps, and he was to give £400 to the prisoner and Mr. Curtis, and £200 to me, that was what they said I don't remember it, that was the arrangement they had—my own recol-lection is that he was to give it to the corps—£200 was to come to me out of the £600, which I never received—if you put it to me very straight, that is the whole grievance—that was not altogether the cause of quarrel, it was partly—I am not in the habit of doing this kind of thing—I have not written a letter to that effect (looking at a letter this is in my hand-writing—I wrote it to Mr. Curtis—it has no date—it is not the fact that I quarrelled with the defendant because he would not hand me £25, which I wanted—I wrote a letter to Mr. Curtis on the subject (the letter was put in and read) I did not complain that I had done the work, and had not received my fair share of the plunder, I wanted the money he owed me—I wrote that "I was going to bring Calvert up to his bearings"—I had not the faintest conception what that meant; it was not a threat to expose him—I don't think it meant blackmailing—I meant something, but I am not prepared to say exactly what I meant—I think I meant that if Calvert allowed me to be swindled I should kick up a rumpus—I wanted him to give me my out of pocket expenses, that was £32, I got nothing—I said I would not claim it if they would give me £30—about fourteen years ago I carried on business at 39, Lombard Street—very likely I was there in 1885—I was consul here of the United State of Columbia from 1880 till October, 1891—I was absent for three years—I am not the Colonel Kane who in 1895 was charged at this Court with two men, named Forfar and Vagg, with conspiracy—I never heard of it till three or four days ago, when the prisoner Earl told me that unless I withdrew from this prosecution they would expose me—I do not know of any other Aloysiua Kane than myself—I cannot help coincidences—I may have known a man named Forfar—now you give me his full name I say I did.
Re-examined. Since 1885 I have not had an office at Lombard Street, I was sole proprietor of the United Service Magazine for many years, and part proprietor of the Gazette—I never had anything to do with American bonds—Mr. Curtis introduced me to Calvert.
By the COURT. This letter was a suggestion from somebody else—I wrote it at the suggestion of a friend at dinner—I won't admit that I put in the amount, it was put in at his suggestion—it had no more
reference to a political matter than it had to the Lord Chancellor—it had reference to a colonelcy—I think the friend I refer to was Mr. Senior, but I am not sure—I think he had something to do with it at the time—it was partly dictation and partly my own—Mr. Curtis lives in Upper Berkeley Street, he is the themistocles of the whole plot—it was not addressed to me, it was intended to be addressed to the gentle-man at whose instigation I wrote it, Mr. Senior—I don't know who "the colonel" was, I was not the colonel—the letter was not addressed to me—it may bear the construction that 1,000 guineas was to be given to me, but it had nothing to do with the items—that was to be kept out of the matter, it was to be in the draft.
Re-examined. I resided in Philadelphia in 1890, and came over here in 1891, after I received the appointment—I received the degree of LL.B.—I was the sole proprietor of the United Service Magazine, and part proprietor of the United Service Gazette—I never dealt in American bonds—a Mr. Curtis introduced me to J ackson—he was to be made an honorary colonel of a London corps—that was for political purposes—the letter which has been read was written for somebody else—it was a deliberate trap to get me to do things—it was dictated to me for political purposes, and had no more reference to this matter than to the Lord Chancellorship, and I was amazed at that construction being put upon it—I quite understand it now, it had reference to the colonelcy—the letter was suggested by a Mr. Senior—it was partly dictated to me and partly written by myself after consultation as to what we should want of the prisoner who was the originator of all this difficulty, and of the whole plot—nothing was said about a knighthood, only a colonelcy—it was not addressed to me, but I think to Mr. Senior—I was not the colonel it was addressed to—I do not know who the colonel was—the consideration may have been one thousand guineas for my services—the prisoner said it was to be written as a blind, and the matter must not be referred to in the draft, and that is why it, was written.
By the COURT. I am a conoessiqnaire in British Columbia, I am a British subject—I have served in the National Guard of the United States Navy—I left England, I think, in May, and shortly after I sold the United Service Magazine—I never heard till a few days ago that Forfar pleaded guilty to conspiring with me to defraud—I did not know Forfar well, I never met him but two or three times in my life.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 13th, 1897.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
62. JAMES ALLEN (47) to stealing in the dwelling house of John Emile Alfred Caillat a watch and other articles his property, and afterwards burglarously breaking out of the same.— Three Months' Hard Labour , [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
63. ALFRED ALLEN (26) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Robert Weston with intent to steal. The prisoner was shot through his body by the prosecutor and had suffered severely in hospital.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment Respited.
64. ERNEST GEOGHEGAN (26) to stealing a cash box and £10 the property of Alfred Louis Bower, having been convicted at the North London Sessions on December 4th, 1893.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
65. GEORGE WILLIAMS (28) to stealing a purse and 19s. from the person of Jane Godden, having been convicted at Clerkenwell on April 23rd, 1889. (Other convictions were proved against him.)— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
THOMAS GIBBS . I am barman to James Coin, landlord of the Salisbury Hotel. On November 19th I was serving in the bar—the prisoner came into the private bar about eleven p.m. with three other men—some Scotch and Irish whisky and two of other liquor was called for, and they paid with a good shilling—more drink was called for by the prisoner, who gave me what appeared to be a half-sovereign; this is it—I looked at it and told him I had not sufficient change and the manager had gone to get it—I took it to the manager and showed it to him, and when I came back the prisoner was still there; he asked me for the change; I told him, and he went out directly—I saw him next in the public bar, he did not ask for his change then; I went to the manager and brought him down—the prisoner left as soon as Mr. Low looked at him through the parlour window—Mr. Low went out, and I went down Dawes Road and saw Mr. Low come up with him there—I am sure he is the same man, I have seen him in our bar, and also at Batty's—he wore an overcoat the first time, but was without one on the second occasion, and a brown hard hat.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You had only crossed the road when you were arrested.
ARTHUR LOWE . I am manager at the Salisbury Arms, Fulham—on the night of November 19th Gibbs showed me this coin, but I did not go into the bar; on the second occasion I went into the bar parlour, and saw the prisoner through the window in the public bar, dressed in a brown felt hat and a short jacket—when he went out I followed him about 20 yards down Dawes Road, and said, "Here, I want you, you have got change for a sovereign": he said "No"; he refused to come back; I had to send for a constable who took him back to the Salisbury Arms—I told him he had passed a Jubilee sixpence for half-a-sovereign; he said that the coin was never in his possession, and denied being in the house, and called for some mild ale and a cigarette, and said, "It is the first I have had today."
JOHN HARNEITY . I am a tobacconist of 208, Escourt Road, Fulham—on November 19th I was with George Hammond in the private bar of the Salisbury Arms—I saw the prisoner there between 11.15 and 11.30—I had seen him before, but not to speak to—I saw him come in with another young man and two lads—he called for a drink and paid for it, and then for two more beers, and put down a coin—the barman said, "We have not any silver, Sir; we will fetch your change in a minute—he still stopped there—I heard one of his friends say, "You had better hedge; they have bowled you"—he wore a long brown coat and a felt
that—he was about a yard from me, and I made room for him to come to the bar—the next time I saw him he was before the Magistrate—I did not pick him out—he was charged.
The prisoner. What he has said is quite true; I am the man.
GEORGE HAMMOND . I am a chemist's assistant at 45, Strode Road, Fulham—I was with Harnetty at the Salisbury Arms, and saw the prisoner come in with another young man and two young women—I knew him by sight—he called for drink, and the barman said, "I will give you change presently; I have not enough change"—I afterwards looked round and he was gone—he wore an Alpine hat and a brown coat—I saw him next at the Court.
GEORGE WINDUS (224 T) On November 19th Mr. Gibbs called me to Dawes Road, and I found the prisoner detained by Mr. Low—he said,"I want you to take this man back to the governor"—I said, "What for?" he said, "He gave me a gilded sixpence for a half-sovereign"—I took him back to the hotel, and in his hearing Gibbs said, "He has been into the house and called for Scotch, Irish, and mild and bitter, and gave me a gilded sixpence"—the prisoner said, "I was in the Paddington an hour ago, and was turned out"—I searched him there, and found a half sovereign, 1s., two sixpences, and 3 1/2 d., all good—I took him to the station—he was charged, and made no reply—he did not tell me he had been in the public-house before that night.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was traveller to Baker & Co., and had,£6 a week, that he unfortunately took this coin in September on his round, and afterwards found that it was a Jubilee sixpence gilt, and kept it; but, being excited, on this evening he passed it inadvertently; that the landlord knew that he worked at Baker's, and did not want to charge him, but the prosecutor did so
ARTHUR Low re-examined. I knew him as a customer, and as being engaged as a traveller in the neighbourhood—I did not notice that he was the worse for drink.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.
JOHN CHKESEWORTH . I am a carpenter, of 9, Wharfdale Road, St. Pancras—I was in Euston Road about 11.40 on Saturday, November 13th, and three or four men closed on me—the prisoner was one of them—he caught hold of me—I had 17s. or 18s. in my two trousers pockets, and some in my right waistcoat pocket—I was knocked down by the prisoner by a severe blow on my face with his fist, and when I was down he kicked me about the back of my head—I got up, and was knocked down and kicked again by the prisoner and others—a policeman came up, and they got him on the ground—I helped the policeman, and then I was knocked insensible by one of the three—my wounds were treated by the police doctor, and I was taken to University College Hospital—I lost 16s. or 17s., but not the half-sovereign, which was in my waistcoat pocket—I was away from work three weeks, and am not all right yet.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I thought I felt a stab on my head, and there was a slight wound just on the left of the kick.
CHARLES BINGHAM (594 Y). On the night of November 13th, I was on duty in Euston Road, and saw the prisoner and two others—the prisoner siezed the prosecutor by his arm, turned him round and struck him with his fist; I followed him—he said that he had been robbed by those three men—I told the prisoner I should take him in custody—he threw himself down, and said, "You won't b—y well take me"—th prosecutor tried to help me—I was kicked by the prisoner and others about my legs, body and hands—I have got well over it—I took the prisoner to the station, and the prosecutor was taken to the hospital—when he came back I sent for Dr. Thompson, who treated him.
Cross-examined. My assistants took you to the station—I did not throw you down violently when we were going 10 the station—I did not kneel on you for a quarter of an hour, but you were struggling with me for a quarter of an hour.
By the COURT.—I was on night duty, and had to go home—I did not know that the prosecutor had been robbed till he told me so—he was a little the worse for drink.
Prisoner's Defence: If I had robbed him I should have had the things on me.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 14th, 1897.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. FITZGERALD, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HAWKE Prosecuted.
CHARLES SQUIRES . I go to school—I live at 54, New North Road, Hoxton—I went to see the great fire—I was passing Half-Moon Passage—I saw the prisoner take the watch out of Mr. Brown's, the prosecutor's, pocket—he slipped it off the chain and let it fall into his other hand, and I saw him put it behind him—another man was behind the prisoner—several men were hustling Mr. J. Brown into the corner—the prisoner tried to get away and Mr. Brown would not lei go of his wrist.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was on the prosecutor's left side—the gentleman's watch was in his right hand pocket—you were on the prosecutor's right side—I fancy I saw the watch in your right hand—I said at the police-court it was a gold watch—I did net tell the gentle-man that you stole his watch, but he caught hold of your hand and called out "Police" and I went for the policeman, and he came—I have not said I saw you pass it to arother man hut I saw you put it behind
you and there was another man behind you—you told the constable you did not take the watch—you did not ask to be searched, but when you got to the station they searched you.
WILLIAM HURST BROWN . I am a member of the Stock Exchange, carrying on business at 2A, Copthall Court—on the night of the fire of November 19th, I was going to Aldersgate railway station—passing through what I hear is Half-Moon Passage, the prisoner and others hustled me into a corner—the others were young men of about the same description as the prisoner—I felt a tug, looked round, and caught the prisoner's hand under my arm—I saw my watch—the prisoner handed it behind him—I caught hold of his collar with my other hand—he struggled and tried to get away—his friends tried to get between us and hustled me—I kept my hold of the prisoner—I saw Squires go away—he brought back the police—I gave the prisoner in charge—from the time he took my watch till the police came I never lost him.
Cross-examined. I saw the watch in your right hand—I had you by the collar with my right hand—I did not see after a policeman, I was paying too much attention to you—you appealed to me and to the constable to search you—he took you to the station—when I charged you with stealing my watch, you said you had not the watch.
Re-examined. When the prisoner asked to be searched, the watch had gone.
ARTHUR PINTER (209 City.) On November 19th I was on duty in Half-Moon Passage—I was called to the prisoner by the lad Squires-saw the prisoner and the prosecutor struggling—the prosecutor said, "Policeman, this man has stolen my watch"—the prisoner said, "The gentleman has made a mistake, I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station—the prosecutor charged him, and the prisoner said the same thing—I searched him, I did not find any watch—the prisoner gave, a correct address.
GUILTY **—He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in the name of George Summers, at Clerkenwett Sessions, in August, 1891. There were 11 other convictions recorded against him.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 14th. 1897.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. MUIR and LESTER Prosecuted, MR. G. MATHEWS Defended.
After MR. MUIR'S opening statement, the COMMON SERJEANT considered that there was no evidence upon which the Jury could convict. MR. MUIR then withdrew from the prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
could not resist a verdict of Guilty, and the prisoner stating that he was Guilty, the JURY found that verdict. — Six Months' on each indictment, to run concurrently.
There being no evidence that the prisoner had seen her husband within seven years, the COURT directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 15th, 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. SIMMONDS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence, as the GRAND JURY found no bill.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. GILL and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. LAMPART Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, December 16th, 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. RAVEN Prosecuted.
LOUISA BERRY . I am an inmate of the Marylebone Workhouse—I have been there some time—I was in the recreation ground of the work-house a little after four o'clock on Wednesday, November 17th—nobody else was there—I saw O'Connell and Noble come into the ground—they were walking along; one came in from the left and the other from the right; they met at the bottom—they spoke to each other, and the prisoner knocked the deceased on his head and knocked him down, and when he got up he knocked him down again—he fell on some stones on the back of his head—I went away and tried to find somebody to come to them, and they cleared away; that is all I saw—before it happened I heard them quarrelling about Noble going and opening a window when it was a very cold day—the deceased complained about it—I did not hear him speak after he had fallen on the stones; he was stunned—he was very old, over 80.
ANN SAMUELS . I was an inmate of the Marylebone Workhouse on November 17th—I was in the recreation ground about four o'clock on that afternoon—I was sitting on the seat—I saw O'Connell and Noble there—the deceased was a very old man, much older than the prisoner—Noble
spoke to me, and O'Connell came up and he said to me, "Don't you talk to him, he is a false, deceitful man"—O'Connell said, "He opened the window over my head"—Noble said he did not—O'Connell said, "You know you did, you pig"—Noble said "Pig, am I a pig?"—O'Connell said, "Yes, you are"—O'Connell was not in a passion, but the prisoner was—I got up from my seat, and got between them; I said, "John O'Connell, you have said quite enough, the best thing you can do is to go home and go to bed," and O'Connell swung himself away from me and went to Noble again—I walked on, thinking I could see someone that I could call, and I saw nothing else; but I heard a noise and a moan—I turned round quickly and saw O'Connell getting up, looking very weak—he sat on the seat and held his face—he was bleeding from his nose and mouth—he got up again and walked home, and I saw no more—when he fell, he fell against the seats—that is everything that happened in my presence—I saw the spitting, that was before he fell—I did not see anybody spit in anybody's face—it is correct that I said before the magistrate, "I saw Noble put his hand up, and O'Connell spit in Noble's face, and Noble put his hand up and wipe it off from his face, and never showed any temper"—I also added that although there was the spitting, I did not think it was intentional—it was done in his passion—I did not see Noble do anything to provoke O'Connell.
CATHERINE O'CONNBLL . I am the widow of the deceased—on November 17th I was lodged in the married quarters of the Marylebone Workhouse—I did not see anything of what took place in the recreation ground—I heard some moaning—my husband had only been out about half-an-hour—it was directly after I heard the moaning that I saw him—he came into my room and fell on the floor—I sent for a doctor—I saw what a state he was in—when he fell on the floor he could not get up—he was dying then—he never got up himself—I saw his face—he had a black eye and was bleeding from the nose and mouth, he had a cut across his nose and also on his cheek—he was insensible—he was put to bed and he never got up—he died on Monday night—he never got better; he was dying all the time—I did not know of any disagreement between the two men—there never had been, as far as I know—my husband was sometimes short-tempered—I heard the story of his having charged a man with opening a window over his head—that sort of thing would have been enough to make him angry—it was done for spite—the window was over where we were sitting—my husband was 80 years old on the 15th of this month.
WILLIAM RAYNER . I am a medical man, carrying on practice at 4, Dorset Square—I saw John O'Connell at the workhouse on Wednesday, November 17th, a little after five o'clock—I found him in bed suffering from a bruise on the left temple, and a black eye, a cut across the nose, and two fractured ribs on the right side—there had been some bleeding from his nose—I saw him every day till his death—he died from shock and bronchitis—a combination of the two—bronchitis set in about the second day—it is often caused by a fractured rib—I made a postmortem examination, but I did not find anything which caused me to think that this rib being broken caused the bronchitis—the same fall would not cause the bronchitis—he was an old man and would probably feel the shock more than a young man—I cannot say that death was caused by
the shock—the immediate cause was failure of the heart—I will not undertake to say that the shock itself was sufficient to cause death—the man was rather feeble, but he could get about pretty well.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not open the window, that had nothing to do with it, I shoved him; I did not hit him. He spat in my face, and he fell over when I shoved him."
NOT GUILTY .
79. CHARLES PRICE (57) and JULIA PRICE (37) , Having the custody of Frederick William Price, a child under 16, did neglect it in a manner likely to cause unnecessary suffering and injury to health. Second Count.—A similar offence with regard to Charles Walter Price.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
ELIZA FRANCES RANDALL . I am a midwife, of 217, Glyn Road, Clapton—on September 9th I attended Julia Price's confinement of two male children; they were very healthy and bright—I saw them subse-quently, the last time on the fourth day after their birth—they were still healthy—I did not see them take anything.
HARRIET MORGAN . I live at 18, Redwald Road, Clapton—the defendants took one room in my house on November 14, 1896, and con-tinued to live there till the present time—when they came they had five children—one died a few months ago—the eldest was nine years old—there were four children when Julia Price was confined of male twins on September 8th—I saw them when they were three weeks old—they seemed fairly well and healthy—they progressed a few weeks—about a month before they died, on September 16th and 17th, they became very frail, and threw their food up—Julia used to say she had not sufficient food to keep them on; that she was short of money—the husband went out and returned after eleven or twelve at night, generally the worse for drink—when he was going away in the morning she said, "Are you going to leave me with a few halfpence again, what are you going to do for the children?"—sometimes he would make no answer and sometimes he would say, "You can do the best you can."—that happened before and after the twins were born when the wife was kept short of money—Julia used to go to the City to fetch work and do it at home—I looked after the children in her absence—she was a ladies' velvet hat and bonnet maker—she left a little milk in a bottle for the twins—if the babies cried before she came back I gave them a little of mine—on November 8th one of the twins had a fit—I advised her to go to the doctor—she went to the doctor and the relief officer, who came on the 16th, when Frederick William died—I saw the children when Julia fetched her work, not when the prisoners were there—the first three weeks Julia fetched condensed milk and Ridge's food—about the Friday before they died I noticed them fall away—they only had clothing that a neighbour gave them—the room was furnished with a chair, a broken chair, a bed and bedstead, a small table and a small bed, the children used to sleep on—one bed had a bolster and pillows, two old sheets and an overcoat, from what I saw the day before Mrs. Price was confined—the mother and father slept on the bedstead, the others slept on the floor on a small bed in a piece of coarse sacking, and pillows—when the babies were three weeks old the wash hand basin was broken and they
used a baking tin—the twins slept with the mother and father on the bed—the children were sent for drink—when they could not go the mother went—on the Monday when the children were lying very ill Charles was at home all day and sending for drink—between eleven and twelve I stopped the boy with the ale can in his hand and the girl fetched the beer—the boy told his father what I had said to him, and I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself sending out for drink, and the children as bad as they were, and keeping the children at home from school—he said he supposed he could do as he liked in his own room; and I said, "Certainly you can"—I asked Dr. Walsh to call—I remember Dr. Turtle and the Relieving Officer calling and the conversation that occurred.
Cross-examined by CHARLES PRICE. I never saw you of a night till I used to come out of bed and knock at your door to try and stop your quarrelling.
By the COURT. The woman appeared, as far as her means enabled her, to do the best she could for the children—I always found her a respectable hardworking lodger.
JOHN BUCKMASTER . I am Relieving Officer for the Hackney District—on November 16th I went to the prisoner's room in consequence of the female prisoner's application—I saw the twins—I called the male prisoner's attention to the serious state of the children, especially Frederick who was apparently blind and dying—he said he was all right and enjoying himself, and it would be a good job when they were both dead—I asked him what his earnings had been for the previous week—he said £1 13s.—he was the worse for drink—Dr. Turtle came a few minutes afterwards, and said that in his opinion it was a case of murder and, "What have you to say to it, Price?"—the male prisoner said it was a case of murder, and imputed blame to his wife, and said he was happy, he was all right and enjoying himself—he said his wife had not looked after the children, properly: that they had been neglected—the wife was present—she had told me when applying for medical orders that she had earned 9s. the the week previous—that was for the same week that the prisoner had earned £1 13s.
JAMES HENRY TURTLE . I am Divisional Surgeon at Victoria Park Police Station—on November 16th I went to the defendants' room—I saw the twins in a dying state—the defendants were there—I told them that both the children appeared to be dying, and asked Price what he was doing—he replied, "I am enjoying myself; they are murdered," referring, to the children—I asked the woman what she had given the children—she said, "A little milk"—Frederick William died on the 16th an hour or two afterwards—I called about ten the next morning—Charles Walter died that day—the children were fearfully emaciated—I made a post-mortem examination on Frederick William on November 18th—I found no evidence of disease—I attribute the emaciation to the want of proper nourishment—its weight was 41bs. 6ozs.—the normal weight of a child 2 months old is 61bs. 6ozs.—I had seen them on September 17th and 20th, when they seemed up to the average—on November 16th Frederick was blind in both eyes from opacity of the cornea, due to ulceration—there was no evidence of opthalmia, it was simply from want of nutrition—there was no food in the stomach except under an ounce of milk fluid—milk had been
ordered from the union, and what I found was what I expected—the child would not have been able to take a large quantity, which would very likely kill it.
Cross-examined. You did not say "This is glorious, is not it?"—you used the words I have stated.
RICHARD FRANCIS WALSH . I am a qualified medical man—on November 8th the female prisoner brought the child Frederick to me—it wan very much emaciated from want of proper nutrition—I gave her medicine and certain directions—the child was dirty, but nothing excessive—I called the following day when it was in the same condition—the skin would be of a darker colour, the child being sick—I saw it again on November 11th—it was not suffering from organic disease.
FREDERICK TRUBY . I am an embosser and chaser, of 28, Middleton Street, Clerkenwell—the male prisoner worked for me for seven weeks, from September 7th to November 20th—his average earnings were 27s. a week—he earned the first week 17s. 4d., the second £1 13s. 4d., the third £1 13s. 4d., the fourth £1 10s., the fifth £1 5s. 4d., the sixth 13s. 4d., and the seventh £1 16s.—one week he only made two days.
Cross-examined. You came to work about nine a.m. or a little after, and left work ahout 9.30 or ten p.m.—the time was irregular, and some times you stopped later to make up for coming late.
The prisoner's statements before the Magistrate: Charles Price says; "These children have been very much neglected by the mother, not for food, but they had not been kept clean. Occasionally she has had to go to the City to her employment, then the children were in the hands of Mrs. Morgan. She used to have to give them milk to feed them. Very often after that the children were very bad, vomiting, so I took the children in hand myself for a week during the day. In three days they left off their vomiting and took their milk properly. I went to work on a Friday about a fortnight before they died. I told my wife not to let Mrs. Morgan take the children in hand again. When I came home that night I asked after the youngsters, and she said Mrs. Morgan had been giving them more of her milk, and from that day they kept nothing on their stomachs-and gradually wasted away. I sat at home on the 16th when Dr. Turtle came, I had only had one half-a-pint of ale. I may have been excited. I was very much upset. I told Dr. Turtle I believed the children had been murdered, and I believe it now." Julia Price says: "The child the post-mortem was held on was sick for a fortnight and kept down nothing. The Saturday week before they died I went to the City and left them alright. When I came home I found Frederick William had been very sick and the balls of the eyes looked as if they had been pressed. No one was in the room but my little boy James. I asked him if he had touched the baby's eyes, and he said "No." From that time its eyes began to go bad, and the child was sick from that day."
Evidence for Charles Price.
CHARLES PRICE (the prisoner): When these children were born the old lady that put Mrs. Price to bed said they were two nice healthy, hearty children; and when they were three or four days old Mrs. Price suckled them, till one night after I had been home about a quarter of an hour I heard bangs at the door, and Mrs. Morgan abused me for the rent, and
threatened me, and stopped the milk by her blaspheming. I had been out of work, and had been assisted, and the children from that time fell away I have a list of the ale I sent for that Mrs. Morgan speaks of and although the can went out nine times, they were half-pints of ale, which were not all for me. I am an abstemious man, as my employer can say.
Cross-examined. My wife never asked me for money—I have given her I sovereign a score of times—I took 12s. back from one sovereign because she said she had to go out to the market again, when she smelt of drink so I locked the door, and made her put the 12s. on the mante piece for the next week's food, which I bought and gave her the balance, 7s. 6d. on the Monday morning—Mrs. Morgan asked me why I locked the door, and I told her I would do as I liked—I believe the children were murdered by Mrs. Morgan's sour milk and Mrs. Prices unclelnliness—I did not tell the relieving officer that Mrs. Morgan was murdering the children; I told Mrs. Price so—I did no say "I am enjoying myself," I said, "This is enjoyment, is not it? and "This is glorious, is not it? and "In my opinion these children are being.
JULIA PRICE, NOT GUILTY .
CHARLES PRICE, GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday and Saturday, December 17th and 18th, 1897.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. CHARLBS MATHEWS, BODKIN and STEPHENSON, Prosecuted.
STUART CHAPPLE . I am official short-hand writer connected with Probate Division of the High Court-On Friday afternoon, May 28th, the prisoner Williams went into the witness box; she was sworn and partially examined that day and her examination was continued the next day Saturday and was followed by her cross-examination—I took down in short-hand the evidence she gave and this is a transcript of it—the prisoner Thomas Rees was the next witness—he was sworn, and it down his evidence both in chief and in cross-examination—he was followed by John Dear, Catherine Dear, Miss Moult and Mrs. Williams, during whose evidence the jury intervened, returning a verdict for the respondent and co-respondent, and the case was dismissed with costs to the coresponcenc as well as the wife. (Mr. Justice Hawking read to the Jury such parts of the transcript as applied to the different assignments of perjury as they occurred throughout the case).
WILLIAM SCOTT . I am a detective-inspector of the Cardiff Police—on December 9th, 1895, I took Rees in custody on a charge of which he was subsequently acquitted—he was in custody on December 10th, and on that day he asked me to send to the female prisoner at Wyndham Crescent—he called her Mrs. Williams—he wanted her to see what she could do for him—I saw her on the same day at the same station about ten a.m.—I told her that Rees was in custody, and she had been sent for because he wanted to see her about getting a solicitor to defend him—I took her down to No. 5 cell—she saw Rees—he told her his trouble, and asked her what she could do to get him a solicitor—she said, "I will do my best; I will go and see Mr. Rees"—he is no relation, but the name is spelt the same—he said, "Yes, do," and took hold of one of her hands with his, and with the disengaged hand he caught hold of her shoulder, and then kissed her—she then went away, and in about 20 minutes Mr. Davis, a clerk to Mr. Morgan Rees, a solicitor, came to the station and saw the prisoner Rees—they were appearing that day at the police court, and Mr. Morgan Rees appeared for him—i saw Mrs. Williams there—there was a remand till the 17th—I was there, and saw Mrs. Williams there again.
Cross-examined by Rees. At the time of your arrest you were a clerk in the Inland Revenue Office, Cardiff—I heard that you had been there 13 or 14 years—your wife and Mrs. Williams were not on visiting terms up to the time of your arrest—your wife visited you in the cells the morning after Mrs. Williams came—it was after the adjournment and before you were remanded—the question before the Magistrate was, did she visit you while you were in your cell during remand—you were kept in custody at Cardiff County Gaol during the remand, and during that time she did not visit you.
Cross-examined by Williams. Mr. Davis did not visit Rees before you went there; I heard all that was said; you did not mention Mr. Morgan Rees' name at all.
Re-examined. It was after his return from the police-court that he saw his wife; he had not asked me to send for her—she brought him some food, but not till after the adjournment—the first person he asked for was Mrs. Williams.
GEORGE DURDEN . I am an inspector of the Cardiff police, attached to the police-court—my office is in the corridor leading to the cells of the Central police-station—Thomas Rees was in custody there on December 10th, 1895, and on that morning from 10.45 to eleven the prisoner Williams came to see him—he was confined in No. 5 cell—I accompanied her and Scott to the cell, and left her there in Scott's custody and returned to my office—I could not hear a person who was speaking loudly in the cell—after they had left the cell and were going to the corridor I heard Mrs. Williams say that she would go and see Mr. Rees, the solicitor, a gentleman well known in Cardiff—she went away, and in a short time Mr. Davis (Mr. Morgan Rees' clerk) came to the station, and was admitted to Rees' cell—I have known the Atlas at Cardiff 23 years; it is not a house of bad character, it is a respectable house and in a most respectable neighbourhood; the house has been in existence 40 years.
Cross-examined by Rees. Mr. Davis did not visit you to my knowledge previous to your wife's visit; he may have before nine, I came at nine—the
present proprietor of the Atlas has kept it for six years—I know Stacy Street, it is near the Atlas Hotel; there are a poor class of houses there, but not the poorest; there are gentlemen's houses close by—Coates' foundry is about 100 yards from the Atlas—the Scales does not face the Atlas, it is 80 or 100 yards off.
WILLY SMITH I have been the proprietor of the Atlas Hotel, Cardiff—I have seen the prisoners there both separately and together, first at the commencement of 1896, and last on January 21st this year—they some times came into the bar and sometimes into the smoke room—when they were together they sometimes stayed a quarter of an hour and sometimes two hours—when Mrs. Williams came alone she has asked me if her father had been there; I generally said "No "; I reckoned that the prisoner Rees was her father, I never saw her meet any other man at my house, nor has Bees met any woman there but Mrs. Williams—she tried to make me believe that Rees was her father—they came three or four times a week at different times of the day.
Cross-examined by Rees. I know Mrs. Oxley—she has been in and out of my house ever since I have been there—she lives close by.
By the COURT. She is the wife of an ex-detective of the Cardiff police—he is now an enquiry agent—my barman, Erie, knows her—I have no barmaid, my wife and I and Erie manage the business—I did not say at the police-court that the two prisoners had committed adultery—I stated that I saw them go up Franceley Road, which is about 100 yards off Rowley Road, and get in a doorway where they were disturbed—that is about a mile from 84, Wyndham Crescent, if you go by the road, but you could get to 93, Davis Street, where Rees resides, in five minutes—I said what I saw.
Cross-examined by Williams. Both I and my barman saw you in December—my house was not locked up at the time, my wife was there—it was between nine and ten o'clock—the distance is not a mile from my house—you came with Rees early in the spring of 1896, you were there very often in May and June and up to December.
THOMAS ERLE . I live in Cardiff—I was formerly Mr. Smith's barman—I was frequently there last spring—between the spring and December, 1896, I saw both the prisoners there together I should say a dozen times—they stayed there some time.
Cross-examined by Rees. Mrs. Oxley first drew my attention to your visits.
JOHN GROVES . I am a compositor, of 23, Den ton Road, Cardiff, 150 or 200 yards from the Atlas, where I went frequently and saw the prisoners there together several times from about last June or July twelve months, to the end of 1896—I did not give evidence at the Divorce Court.
Cross-examined by Rees. I have seen you from 6.45 to 7.30 p.m.—I am employed by day, I have no night work.
Cross-examined by Williams. I have known Mr. Oxley some consider able time; it was a considerable time after the divorce case, because I never knew I was going to be called. I communicated with the Solicitor for the Crown, not with Mrs. Oxley; I was not annoyed at that.
EVAN THOMAS DAVIS . I live at 69, Alexander Road, Cardiff; and am foreman on the Western Mail—I use the Atlas public-house, and have seen the prisoners there together frequently from May to the end of the year 1896—I did not give evidence at the Divorce Court.
Cross-examined by Rees. I have been there 11 years—I did not know you previous to the divorce case, only by seeing you in the Atlas—Mr. Smith of the Atlas spoke about you first to me.
Cross-examined by Williams. Mr. Oxley did not speak to me about this case, nor did Mrs. Oxley.
STUART CHAPPLE (Re-examined by Williams). I believe it to be September 8th instead of September 18th that Rees was said to have come to your house, but according to my original note the 8th is what was said.
FREDERICK ROBINSON . I am a furniture packer and remover of Cardiff—last year I worked for Mr. Legasit, a furniture remover at Cardiff—I remember going to 84, Wyndham Crescent, with the van on 18th August, 1896—we arrived about six a.m.—the prisoners instructed me and others to take the goods to Crogan Hill, Cadoxton—we left the prisoners at Wyndham Crescent, and afterwards met them at Cadoxton, about six miles off, where we were to get paid.
Cross-examined by Rees. You left to get the money—the lady paid my partner—I have been at Cardiff 18 years—I cannot say whether I have seen you before.
Cross-examined by Williams. I did not see any other woman than you at the Crescent—everything was packed ready—the house was dismantled—we left it about eight a.m., you said Rees had gone to your sister's to get the money—you mentioned no name—another lady was there—Mr. Legasit's son who assisted told me Rees had gone for the money—that was at the door when we were moving the stuff in.
ELIZA FOWLER . I am the wife of James Fowler, an engine driver, of Crogan Hill, Cadoxton—a Mrs. Moult came to live, next door but one—a few days before the 18th August, 1896, she came to clean the house—two or three days afterwards some furniture came in a van—Williams came the day after the furniture arrived on the 18th, and I saw Rees at the back door of the house in the garden—I heard Williams say to him "Come in to have your tea"—he went in—the same evening he asked me to lend him a garden spade, and I lent it to him to dig the garden to put some flowers in—I saw Rees regularly every day for the first three weeks afterwards, on the door-step at the back, in the morning—I saw him cleaning the windows on the Saturday morning a week afterwards—I have seen him in her company—I have met them in the lane—I gave evidence at the Divorce Court—I have seen Rees at the house since then, till August 16th, 1897—three or four days after the trial I saw Rees with Williams.
Cross-examined by Rees. I was not asked to watch the house—I did not say at the Divorce Court that Mrs. Oxley gave me instructions to watch the house—my husband was convicted at Cadoxton of brutally kicking Mrs. Williams—before you came to Crogan Hill the adjoining houses had been empty three years—we have always lived on good terms with our neighbours—I have seen you come in late and go away early—you assaulted my husband and called us everything you could think of—I am not brought here from revenge.
Cross-examined by Williams. The first three weeks Rees was there every day, but one Thursday he was missing—I did not say at the Divorce Court that I never saw Rees at the house after the first three weeks, but when I was asked if I was paid to watch the house I said I
was not, and I did not watch it, but being in and out I could not be off seeing him—Mrs. Oxley never came but once, and that was three weeks after you came to live next door but one—I did not see your garden, only Rees digging on one side of the fence.
ALBERT BROOKS . I am a postman of 25, Robert Street, Barry Docks—I lived at Crogan Hill from August, 1896, to February, 1897, in the middle house of three—there are no numbers—my house was next to Mrs. Williams's—she came a few days afterwards—I saw both prisoners in front of the house together at different times in the day nearly every day for the first two or three weeks—once I spoke to Williams in the street—Rees was with her—I was not called in the divorce proceedings.
Cross-examined by Williams. I am sure you came within a week, because I wanted to take the house, and found on a second visit it was let—the garden was not dug, but flowers had been planted by the side of the iron rails—I never saw Rees in Cadoxton with you; nor you alone—I may have met you and not noticed you—I never heard you quarrelling, nor saw any disorderly conduct.
JAMBS WHITE . I am a driver, of 22, Daisey Street, Canton, Cardiff—Rees lives at No. 93—I know Miss Catlin, who lives at 99—I remember in April standing on her doorstep talking to her when I saw Williams break four panes of the windows of No. 93 with her fist—then she walked towards Rees, who was about 30 yards away—she joined him, and they walked away together—a week afterwards I was talking to Miss Catlin when I saw Williams dancing outside Mr. Rees door on the pavement—Mrs. Rees opened the bedroom window on the first floor—Williams said, "If you will come outside I will show you your husband"—I saw Williams three times in all—I was not called on the divorce trial.
Cross-examined by Rees. I do not know what proceedings were taken about the windows—I was about there very often—lam engaged to Miss Catlin—there is no pavement, I meant the footpath.
Cross-examined by Williams. I saw you first on the night when the windows were broken—I recognized you—I have not seen you in Olive Road—I have lived in the neighbourhood 10 years—I saw you under the lamp—I was in uniform; you would not know me—windows are not often broken—none were boarded up.
Re-examined. I had been driving the Post Office cart, and was in the Post Office uniform.
ADA CATLING . I live at 99, Daisy Street, Canton—I remember one evening in April standing talking with the last witness, on my mother's doorstep, when I saw Williams break Mrs. Rees' windows with her fist—Rees was standing by Mr. Smith's shed, about 30 yards off—she then walked to Rees and said, "Where you go, I will go"—a week later I saw the prisoners walking in the direction of Clive Road—I saw Williams dancing outside Mrs. Rees' door—I have seen them on other occasions—I did not give evidence at the divorce trial.
Cross-examined by Sees. Mrs. Greedy and others live in your house—I have not seen windows smashed before, in the street—I first knew Williams by her coming to Mrs. Rees' house—there are four or five houses between No. 99 and Smith's shed—there may be 10—there are about
three lamps—I did not tell Mrs. Greedy I saw Williams, when it was another woman.
Cross-examined by Williams I have seen you going backwards and forwards to Mrs. Rees' house several times, and apparently waiting for Mr. Rees—I have seen you go into Mrs. Rees' house once—that is since the divorce trial—I did not tell Mrs. Williams, the butcher, I have never seen you.
CHARLES PHIPPS (Cardiff 34. B). In April I was on duty in Daisy Street—Mrs. Rees complained to me, and I went to look at No. 93—I saw four panes of glass broken—Catlin made a statement to me—I saw the prisoners together in Daisy Street in April and June—they shook hands when they met—I was not called on the divorce proceedings.
Cross-examined by Rees. My beat extends to Daisy Street—it was not my duty to find out who broke the windows.
Cross-examined by Williams. You used to go backwards and forwards to Clive Road—I cannot say how long.
STUART CHAPPLE (Re-examined by Williams). Mrs. Fowler was asked if she watched the house, and says she did, and gave a description of the man who came there the first three weeks—Mrs. Rees said her husband was at home when the windows were broken and Williams came to the house.
EMILY OXLEY . I have visited the Atlas Hotel, Cardiff, and seen the defendants there together last year I live opposite 84, Wyndham Crescent, the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Williams—on Saturday, May 30th, when Mr. Williams was away at sea, I saw Rees go upstairs with a lighted candle about 12.30 a.m., and into the front bedroom over the parlour—Mrs. Williams came and washed the doorstep, and returned to the house, and went to the same room with a candle—I saw a light was in the room till 2.30 a.m.—Rees was suffering from a bad cough—I could hear it—I have seen Rees there on other occasions when Mr. Williams was away.
Cross-examined by Williams. I was engaged on May 16th by your husband to watch the house—that was by a letter which Mr. Morgan Lewis had—it was sent from his house at Neath by his brother—I saw Rees from the window; from your front door, through the Venetian blind—Mr. Oxley was not there—I have the notes I made—when I saw Rees take the candle I was on the opposite side of the road—the blinds were not drawn—I saw Rees the next day—he was never out—I was not there days—I watched from May 16th till, I think, July 17th, the evening when Mr. Williams came home from sea—I saw him then—Mr. Oxley engaged me to watch the house, because he was doing other business—I did not know Mr. Oxley had a photograph—I took my notes at the time—Rees was always there when I was—I saw him draw the blinds down and pushing the window up—I was there for two months every night—I saw no women or young girls there on May 30th, only yourself—I saw Rees there on May 16th—I knew your husband intended to get a divorce because, when my husband came to your house, he said that you said we were all liars, and that it was your father who was in the house and not Rees, and your husband said he would allow you so much a week; but when he went to sea again he employed me to watch the house—that date is in the book—it was a day or two after he had made up his mind to
allow you £1 a week that he told me to keep my eyes on you—I saw him at your house—I followed the van—I did not walk to Cadoxton, I went by train—I knew the van—I saw it at 84, Wyndham Crescent and afterwards at Crogan Hill—I saw Rees at both places on August 18th—I saw him carrying the water for one place—I was at the bottom of the hill—I know Mr. Smith at the Atlas—I went for my beer there every night—I saw you there very often, not as often as I went—I did not draw Mr. Smith's attention to you—you were sitting in the little parlour—I saw you through the window—you could have seen me if you had looked—I have not been in communication with the witnesses from the Atlas, nor have I had anything to do with working up the prosecution.
JAMES EVANS . I am a master mariner—I live at 86, and next door to 84, Wyndham Crescent, where Mrs. Williams lived from 1894 to the middle of August, 1896—I have frequently seen Rees at No. 84 during that period, not while Mr. Williams was at home—I knew Mr. Williams as a marine engineer.
Cross-examined by Rees. At Bow Street I spoke of the conversation we had at the docks about the divorce proceedings—I said, "You got off pretty well over your case in London"—You said, "Very little good you did me"—I said, "You can perfectly well understand I was a very unwilling witness to be there, I did not wish to be dragged into it at all, but you remember what I did say was perfectly true"—You said, "If Mr. Williams could not see what was being done, it was no one else's business," as much as to tell me it was not my business—I have been a master mariner—I have been out of employment over four years—I have been employed since bringing over Cleopatra's Needle, by different employers—I go to the docks occasionally; they are about 35 minutes' walk—I don't travel by the tram—that once was the only time I conversed with you on the divorce—you said you and your wife were going to make £100 out of the proceedings, which I understood was to come out of Williams, and I said, "I have been very poorly paid over the job; I shall be glad if you can put me in the way of finding out who is going to pay my expenses," and I asked you to jot it down for the four days I was in London, and you said I ought to put my wages at a guinea a day and expenses, and I sent in a nice little bill of £13 to Mr. Lewis Morgan and told him if he disagreed about it I should put it into the hands of a solicitor—I did not get it—at the Divorce Court I said, "I wish to know who is to pay my expenses"—I do not know what I am going to get here, but it makes me down in the mouth to appear in a thing of this sort—I thought you were boss of the house till I saw Mr. Williams, the husband, come—I was generally about my house doing repairs and things as much as you were at 84.
Cross-examined by Williams. I heard you did writing for Mr. Bees, but I never saw any—I remember coming to your house with Mr. Oxley when a photograph was shown him said to be of your father—I did not see that he looked surprised—I think he asked whether it was a photograph of Mr. Bees or your father, and said that he had seen a man there on May 30th, and that his wife had been watching the house—I cannot remember dates, but it was when your husband charged you with committing adultery with that man—Mrs. Oxley came three times to my
house—she did not make notes of the evidence to my knowledge—my wife took her up to see your little doings in the kitchen—your sisters, their husbands, and some children were staying in your house about four or five days—Rees was there when your sisters were, and another lady, but not when the children were there, nor the husbands, and there was high jinks below stairs that anybody could see—it was about 18 months before I knew your husband was engineer on a vessel—you moved from Wyndham Crescent in about 15 months from the time I got acquainted with your husband, I think in July, 1896—Mr. Oxley told me he watched your house, but I do not remember his saying that he saw a man go there.
HENRY LEWIS JONES . I am and was in 1896 Registrar of Births and Deaths for the sub-district of St. Nicholas, Cardiff—I produce a certified extract from my register of the birth of Zillah Dear, child of William John and Elizabeth Moult on June 2nd, 1896—the informant was Elizabeth Moult, of Abingdon Street, Barry—the birth was registered on July 13th, 1896.
Cross-examined by Williams. There are fines for not giving information within six weeks, but they are not always enforced, so many days' grace is allowed.
JOHN CANE (Detective Officer). I received a warrant on November 4th, and arrested the prisoners on November 6th, Rees at 93, Daisy Street, Canton, Cardiff—I read him the warrant—he said, "I thought that matter had been thrashed out in the Divorce Court"—I told him to hand me whatever papers he had in his pocket—he produced these three letters, a telegram, and an unpaid bill for board and lodging at Jones' Hotel, Aberdare, and an envelope—I took him to the police office at Cardiff—the same day I went to Cadoxton and told Williams that I was a police officer from London that had arrested Mr. Rees that morning for having committed perjury in the divorce case between herself and her husband, and I was going to arrest her also—I read the warrant to her—she said, "Is my husband at the bottom of this?"—I said, "I know nothing about your husband, I am only acting under the directions of the Director of Public Prosecutions"—she said, "The boot ought to be on the other leg; all the perjury was on my husband's side, I did not commit any perjury"—I served the defendants separately with this notice—that evidence might be given of Williams's writing.
JOSEPH ROSS . I was a clerk of Messrs. Morgan, Rees' Solicitor, of Cardiff—I know Mrs. Margaret Williams's writing—I believe these three letters and the envelope are her writing, though the envelope is a little different, [One letter dated Monday acknowledged telegram and enquired as to Rees's movements, and stated "I write to you in the name of Ross," and asked for money, and concluded "With all my love to you, Maggie; be sure you give me all news." The second letter was dated Wednesday morning, and stated that the writer had written to Barnard Town, and "I see you have left Newport; let me know fully what you intend doing," and "I hear that T. W. has gone out of his mind. Although I used to joke about it I hope this is not true. Let me have a letter in the morning giving all news, with love, Maggie," The third wait dated Monday, and stated, "The 5s. came in handy," and "Tom Williams failed in his application last Saturday." "T. W. has not got
the stick." "What have you done with the bill of the coffee tavern?" and that the Skewin post-office people watched for telegrams. The telegram was handed in at Skewin post-office 4.40, received 4.53, and was to Ross, Post-office, Cadoxton. "All is well, written Barnard Town and Cadoxton, Williams." The bill was for £1 6s. 8d., due to the Diamond Coffee Tavern, Commercial Street, Aberdare, with details to October 9th.]
ADA SARAH JONES . I am the daughter of the proprietor of Jones' Coffee Tavern, 49, Commercial Street, Aberdare, it is also called "The Black Diamond Coffee House"—on September 21st, 1897, Rees engaged a single bedroom—within a day or two he told me he expected his wife from Newport—Williams came on the 23rd—both occupied the same bed-room in which there was only one bed—they stayed till October 5th except three nights when Williams was away—Rees remained till October 9th, Williams said she was going to Newport for some clothes—she did not return—the bill to October 9th is not yet paid—I gave him the bill on Saturday afternoon, I did not see him afterwards—it was a weekly bill—I expected him back.
Cross-examined by Rees. The previous bills were settled—I sent a bill to the Black Lion Brewery, Aberdare, I knew no other address.
REES, in his defence, said that they had neither of them the means to call witnesses from Cardiff, that he employed Williams to do secretarial work, and visited her to the knowledge of her husband, that there was no conspiracy, and it was impossible to concoct one as they were not together during the divorce proceedings, and that they had not received a penny costs, and the husband had become bankrupt. WILLIAMS, in her defence, said that she had lived happily with her husband till his brother and other relatives interfered; that she applied for employment wider the Revenue Department, and was referred to Rees, who employed her and brought and fetched away the books from her house, which her husband, who was by no means poor, knew; that she had honestly stated the truth in the divorce proceedings (which cost her £100); that she might have made a mistake in some matters, but the prosecution had been worked up by the husbands relatives; that the witness's stories were improbable and absurd; that she did not deny that something did take place after the divorce proceedings, but it was the outcome of them; and that she was perfectly innocent of perjury or of conspiracy to commit it.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. MAURICE Prosecuted, MR. SANDS Defended.
CHARLES HUTTON (Detective Officer). On November 8th, about 8.30 p.m., in consequence of information, I went with Detective Dore to a house in Webb Street, Plaistow, to the top floor occupied by the prisoner and Jane Farratt, and found on the top of a cupboard a mould, with the impressions of the head and tail of a florin, also some plaster of Paris in this bag at the side of the fireplace, also this ladle, a knife, and a small
portion of metal—I took them away—about 11.30 I was with Don, in Webb Street, and arrested the prisoner as he was going in at the door—he became very violent, kicked me on my legs, and struck Sergeant Dore on his face, and threw him to the ground, and I fell on him—we had to get assistance to get him to the station.
Gross-examined. There were two families in the house—the front door was closed, it fastens with a catch, and you pull a string to get in—his door was not open, but the woman came to me—she went into the room when I found the things—the cupboard is seven feet high, you could see the things on top of it if you had a chair—the woman told me that the mould was on top of the cupboard, but she did not tell me about the bag.
JOHN DORE (Detective Sergeant). On November 2nd, at 11.20 a.m., I was in Webb Street, when the prisoner came up to the door, and I said, "I shall take you in custody for having in your possession a mould, and other implements for coining," he said, "This is got up for me; she has put me away; I know nothing about it"—she was not there—going to the station he became very violent, and threw me to the ground, and kicked and struck out as hard as he could—I got assistance, and took him to the station—he had no key—I had not said anything about information being given me by the woman.
JANE FARRETT . I have been living with the prisoner at 4, Webb Street, Plaistow, for a month in the front room upstairs—on November 8th I went back to the house about 11.15 a.m., and found the prisoner and his brother there—there was a fire there, and this mould was in front of it—I asked the prisoner what it was; he said that I should know that later on—I had taken the lodgings; I knew the prisoner for four months before I lived with him, I said that if he did not take it away I should give him up—he knocked me about, and we went and had a drink, and then he knocked me about again, and I gave information to the police—I saw a bag there, but I don't know what was in it—he told me to be careful not to knock down what was on the cupboard, because it was silver-sand.
Cross-examined. I am perfectly sure I did not know what the mould was, I never had anything to do with coining of any sort or kind—I do not know William Johnson who was in charge at West Ham police-court for coining—I had no dispute with the prisoner while I was living with him, till this Monday morning—there was something about Dan Williams coming home with me, he is a friend of mine, but I left him six months ago—he had nothing to do with coming—I do not know where he was living, but I heard that he was living at Stratford when I was living with the prisoner—I disputed with the prisoner about a man and a woman being in the room with him, but there was no row—there was a man and woman in the house—living with him in the house, I never saw anything of the kind before—I did not know that it was a mould—I did not see him put it away—I went with the police and saw them find the things—I told them that they were in the room on the top of the cupboard, I saw Sheppard put them there, I did not put them there myself—when I came in at 11.15 I stopped till 12.15 and went out to have a drink with him and left him about 12.45 and went home—I had not a key of the room, the key was in the door when I went for the police—I did not open it they shoved it open.
Re-examined. I saw the prisoner pick up the mould from the front of the fire and put it in the cupboard; there is no truth in the suggestion that I put it there, or that the men I brought put it there, they are respectable married people.
SARAH ANN SPARKS . I keep the house, 4, Webb Street, Plaistow—on October 18th the prisoner took a room there at 2s. 3d. a week—a woman was with him, she paid 6d. deposit—they gave me no name—they stayed, it would have been a month on Thursday if he had not been taken—the door opens with a string, and there is a big stone to keep it from banging—a woman who I have known for years, lodges downstairs with her husband and three little children—there is no other man in the house but my husband.
Cross-examined. Some of them can be used for other purposes.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on January 13th, 1896, of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, and three other convictions were proved against him, all for coining.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MESSRS. C. MATTHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted, MR. PURCELL Defended.
HENRY PEARCE . I live at 158, Crownfield Road, Leyton—I am a chef—I have known the prisoner for 25 years—he is also a chef—I saw him about seven years ago, in 1890, and my stepson and I went for a walk with him—I have met him once in the street since then, about June—before this I had not seen his wife for about 10 years and have had no communication with her—on this night, as I came home, he was standing at my door—he told me he had broke up his home—I asked him the reason—he said, "It is through you and my wife"—I said, "You do not know what you are talking about, I have not seen your wife for years, it must be seven years"—he said, "You made an appointment to meet her on the night you and your stepson were in my company"—I said, "We did not leave you till past twelve on that night, and then we went home arm-in-arm"—my wife came in in the course of the conversation—she said, "I opened the door to both of you myself"—the prisoner said, "I am labouring under a delusion, I am satisfied"—he and I walked together towards the Stratford railway station, and going there, I said to him, "What did you mean by referring to the appointment with your wife"—he made no answer—I said, "As far as your wife is concerned, I am as innocent as a baby"—he said, "do you know, Harry, I have come over with the intention of killing you,"—I said, "You must be mad, come and fight it out"—he said, "Will you come and face my wife?"—he was walking behind me towards the Railway Tavern—I suddenly felt something and fell into the road—it was dark"—I was taken to West Ham Hospital—on October 30th while
the prisoner was in the hospital, I went and saw him, and he said, "I must have been mad to do such a thing; I have seen my wife, and the only reparation I can make is to say that I was mad"—I got a message to go and see the prisoner from him—we shook hands and he asked me to forgive him.
Cross-examined. I did not know that he had been roaming about for a fortnight before and not going home because he was afraid of being poisoned—I think if he had been in his right mind I should have been the last man he would have injured.
HECTOR CHARLES GOSLING . I live at 28, Francis Street, Stratford, on the night of October 9th I saw the last witness walking towards the railway tavern, and the prisoner behind him with a revolver in his hand—I saw him lift the revolver and fire at Pearce, who fell in the street.
ATKINS R. WILLIAM GUROND . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police—on the night of October 9th I went to Stratford and found the prisoner suffering from a severe injury from a gun shot wound on the right side of his head—he was insensible—I went to the hospital with him—he remained insensible for some time, he became delirious and began to talk at random—he said that they were murdering him—he remained in that condition about a week and then became better, but remained very melancholy—he was in that condition until his discharge from the hospital on November 24th—his injury was very serious indeed—I examined Pearce, he was suffering from a small bullet wound at the back of his neck—it was not serious—he remained under my care 12 days.
Cross-examined. The prisoner's wound will leave facial paralysis.
JAMES SCOTT (Surgeon of Holloway Gaol). The prisoner has been under my special observation since his admission on November 4th—from what I have seen of him and from the history of the case I do not think that he was in a condition to distinguish between right and wrong on October 9th—my opinion is that at the time he fired the shot he was incapable of appreciating what he was doing.
GUILTY, being insane, and not responsible at the time he committed the act. To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. O'CONNOR Prosecuted,
MR. PURCELL Defended.
present when his depositions were taken before the magistrate—he was duly sworn—the prisoner was present—the evidence was interpreted to him—he had an opportunity of asking any questions—I saw Bassai sign his depositions [Read] "I live at 7, Kebworth Street, Dorset Road. Clapham—I am an ice-cream vendor—on the 2nd of this month, between one and two in the afternoon, I was sorting some fruit near my missus' stall in. Stock well Road—I was on my van, about 20 yards from the stall, I went towards the urinal and saw Scotti—I said, 'You have no work to-day'—he made no answer, and as I went out of the urinal I felt something in my back—for a second I did not know what it was—I turned and saw Scotti—I went to strike him, and knocked his hat off, and he ran away—I found I was bleeding, and I called to my missus, 'Stop him, stop him'—she went across the road, and a constable went alter the prisoner—I was taken to the doctor, and I have not been out of bed till last Sunday—there was no quarrel whatever between us—he has been in my employment the last four months with one of my ice cream harrows—I owed him no money—about a week before I had employed another man, and he was jealous—I told him to find another place, but he kept on coming—he lived in my house, and he had his own key—we had no words whatever that day."
Cross-examined. "He did not say a word to me—he had not asked me for money—I did not strike him before he struck me—this knife is not mine—I was sorting bananas—I never saw a knife like this in my place—I did not see my wife try and stab him with a knife—we did not talk together—he was not there two seconds—I did not hit him at all—I struck him after he stabbed me—just knocked his hat off—I had no drink—he never said a word to me about money—I did not clutch hold of him and fall with him—I never saw him on the ground."
EDWIN MOORE (656 W). On Saturday, October 2nd, I was outside the Electric Railway Station by the Swan public-house at Stockwell—I was called by Mrs. Bassi—I went after the prisoner and arrested him, and brought him back—I said, "You have stabbed a man"—he said, "No knife; no speak English"—I brought him into the presence of Mrs. Bassi—she said, "You have stabbed my husband"—he said, "No, no," and shook his head—there were several cabmen present, and a small crowd—Mrs. Bassi said there were two other Italians mixed up in it—the two men were pointed out to me by the cabmen—I took the men to the station—the prosecutor was brought up, and he charged the prisoner with stabbing him—the prisoner made no reply—the charge was read over to him, and explained by one of the other Italians.
Cross-examined. When my attention was first drawn I saw the prisoner running away—he was running alone—the only other person I saw was Mrs. Bassi—she was the only person who spoke to him—at that time I did not see the little girl Macnamara—I did not ask if there were any witnesses who saw what took place—the husband said the prisoner had stabbed him—when I got hold of the prisoner I brought him back—I told him he had stabbed a man when I caught him—he said, "No knife; no speak English"—it was not far away from Bassi that I caught him—the other Italians were there—I remember giving my evidence at the police-court, and saying, "I asked whether there were any witnesses who saw what took place, and I found none"—that
was when the prisoner was brought; back—Macnamara did not give evidence before the magistrate till after Bassi had been called—I first saw her after the man had been stabbed, and when I brought the prisoner back to the prosecutor—the Bassi's keep a stall and the girl was looking after it—I asked if there were any witnesses in a way that everybody could hear—I did not get any answer from anyone—Macnamara did not come to the station that day—I saw her at the police-court after the injured man was called—that was not the first time I saw her—she spoke to me when I was on duty—I did not know if her account was true as to whether she had seen the stabbing, until the day of the police-court—Mrs. Bassi heard me ask if there was anybody who saw it happen—the other Italians were brought to the station—I do not know how long the prisoner has been in England.
Re-examined. Mrs. Bassi told me all she knew about it—the husband also told me about it—the stand is in Stock well Road, at the corner of the cab-stand—I should be about 20 or 25 yards from the stall when I was at the stand—I was surrounded by a lot of people—when I addressed them I spoke out, but I do not think that my voice reached the little girl—I did not speak to the cabmen—It would have been possible for the girl to have held the prisoner for some distance; he was running.
MARY MACNAMARA . The prosecutor is my uncle—I live with him—On 2nd October, I was with my uncle and Mrs. Bassi—at the corner of Stock well Road—when I went to work at the stall with Mrs. Bassi—My uncle went down the mews with the cart—soon after that I saw the prisoner over the road with two men—I called my aunt's attention to him—he was talking to the two men—he then came over to the basket—he did not say anything then—I saw a knife in his possession—he held it down by his side—he went back to the two men, then walked down the mews—I followed him—he went out of my sight—I saw him again—Uncle got out of the cart and said something to him in Italian; then he said, "I am going round the corner"—thepr'ioner got behind him and stabbed him, I said "Uncle you are stabbed"—the prisoner went across the road to the two men and gave the knife to the big man, and the big man gave it to the little one and the little one threw it over into a garden—the prisoner ran down the South Lambeth Road and I shouted, "Stop him, stop him, he has stabbed my uncle"—I saw a policeman get him—the policeman did not pass me—I held the prisoner by the coat till the policeman came up—the two Italians came up—I should not know them again if I saw them—I saw my uncle knock the prisoner's cap off.
Cross-examined. The prisoner lived in the same house as I did—there had been no quarrel—when he first came up to the stall my was in the cart—the prisoner had a knife in his hand, I could see it, and so could Mrs. Bassi—he went back to the two Italians after coming to the stall—he was still carrying the knife in his hand; everybody could see it—the policeman was not there then—the prisoner came back and walked down the mews—Mrs. Bassi was at the stall with me, nobody else—my uncle went down the mews, and the prisoner followed him, still carrying the knife—I walked down behind them—when I saw what happened I ran up to the prisoner and caught hold of his coat when he was going into the urinal—I saw the policeman running—when I first saw him he was not near to where I first saw the prisoner with the knife—I held on to
hie jacket—the policeman caught hold of him—when I saw the policeman running I let go, and went over to the basket—I was about 10 yards from the policeman—he brought the prisoner back to my uncle and aunt—I did not hear my uncle tell the policeman that the prisoner had stabbed him; I was with the basket then—I did not go near the policeman when he brought the prisoner back—I have seen the police-man since; he asked me how my uncle was—I went back to the basket, because I was afraid someone would take something away from it—I saw the policeman a day or two afterwards—I did not go to the Court the same day that my uncle went there—I went to the Court about six times—I went with my uncle and aunt—I have seen one of the Italians who had the knife in his hand here this morning—I saw the little one at the police-court—he was the one to whom the prisoner gave the knife.
CATHERINE BASSI . I am the prosecutor's wife—I am an English woman—my husband is an Italian—on October 2nd I was with my basket out-side the Swan, in the Stock well Road—the prisoner worked for me for four months, and lived in the house—on this day I saw him on the other side of the road by the cab-stand—my niece called my attention to him—he came over to me—he had a knife in his hand—that is not the knife—he said, "Where is Bassi?"—I said, "Gone home, or down the mews"—he then crossed the road—there were two friends of his on the other side of the road—I saw him open the knife—after that I went down the mews and I told my husband something, I did not go back to my basket, I stopped by the van in the mews, and the prisoner came down behind me, my husband spoke to him and went out of the mews, and I followed—I saw my husband, and he said, "Kate, Tony has stabbed me"—I saw my niece running across the road towards where the prisoner was—he lived in my house, I have no reason to believe that he had any ill-feeling towards my husband—my husband said he could not put up with his laziness, and he had better find another place—the prisoner asked me if another man worked for me, and I said, "Yes"—they were always very well disposed to each other.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was not peeling walnuts at the stall that morning—I used a knife that morning—that was before I followed my husband down the mews—my attention was drawn to the prisoner by what my niece said—on this morning I did not want him to peel walnuts—I think he had come to peel walnuts—I was not frightened at all when my niece drew my attention to the prisoner, all she said was, "Ain't he got some cheek, he is going to peel some walnuts"—I followed my husband, who was down the mews—I said to him, "There is Tony at the top of the mews"—that is all I said—then the prisoner came and spoke to my husband—but I never heard them say anything aloud—the next thing I saw was my husband bleeding—my niece came down the mews, and I told her to go and look after the basket—when the policeman brought the prisoner back my niece was close by—I heard my husband tell the policeman that the prisoner had stabbed him—I heard the prisoner say, "No knife, no speak English"—I then saw where my niece was and where the cart was, it was near to my husband and me—I do not know if she was as near to the policeman as I was—I remember the policeman asking if anybody had seen the stabbing—the two Italians had been to
the house in the morning with the prisoner—at that time my husband was not at home—he was at the house when the prisoner went away—the prisoner has lived in the house the whole time he has worked for us—when my husband came from the hospital he drove the van home—he could not do his work—he had to be attended by the docter—he did not get well—he was not able to do any work after October 2nd—he was able to go to the police-court, but could not work—I cannot say when he went into the hospital.
Re-examined. I have never seen the other two Italians before—I should know them again—I heard the policeman ask the crowd some-thing, but I could not say what it was—my niece was then at the back of the people—I cannot say if there was anyone near my husband when he was stabbed, besides Scotti.
SAMUEL JOHN STEELE . I am a cabdriver—I live at 124, Stockwell Road—I was on the Swan standing on October 2nd—I first heard of this when Mrs. Bassi came to the policeman on point—the prisoner ran down the South Lambeth Road—I ran after him—I was present when the capture took place—the prisoner said, "Me no speak English, me no knife"—he had a tobacco-box and a clay pipe in his left hand—I made a search after this—I looked into the garden of the Electric Railway, and in the second shrub on the left hand side I found a very strange-looking knife—it was shut—the garden is at the corner of Binfield Road—the prisoner himself would not pass the spot where the knife was found—I did not see him in the company of other people—I sent the knife down to the station.
ISAAC CUTLER (re-called). I was at the police-station on October 2nd—I received the knife—it was brought by a cabman—it was shut—I charged the prisoner, the charge was made by the prosecutor—the prisoner made no reply to it—the charge was explained to him by one of the Italians—I took the names and addresses of these two men.
Cross-examined. I do not speak English at all—the charge was explained to the prisoner by the other man at the request of the police—the other man was with me at the time—he can understand English a little—I saw Scotti go into the mews and then come out—I did not see anything in his hand—another man was standing with me who is taller than I am—Scotti did not give me a knife and I did not hand one on to the taller man—when Scotti came back he was without his cap—I asked him what had become of it—he said he had had a fight with his master and had lost his cap—I saw Mrs. Bassi at the stall, she was peeling nuts—I did not see the prisoner peeling walnuts at the stall that morning—I have known him six or seven months—when he came from Italy—the other Italian is in London now—he is not here to day—Scotti said he was going to claim some money from his employer—he did not say how much—he said he had been working there three or four months—he wanted the money for all the time he had been working there.
did not probe it—it was between the fifth and sixth ribs—I could hardly say if it had been delivered from behind—I examined the clothing and there were cuts on all the clothing corresponding with the wound—I have seen Bassi before each remand—he would not need my treatment, but he was not in a condition to attend the police-court—he was in a dangerous condition on the night of October 2nd—his wife came and asked me to see him—that was before the first day of the inquiry—he was suffering from internal hemorrhage—I do not think the wound could have been caused by a fall on the knife.
Cross-examined. The wound had quite healed up before I gave my evidence before the magistrate—as far as I know the prosecutor had been at home and was attended there—before the last sessions the wound had been opened because they found that there was something inside which wanted to come away—it was opened at the hospital—I have never attended him—I cannot say anything as to his condition at the present time.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have not done any harm to him at all—I did not stab him—I simply asked for my salary, and they all went on to me."
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.
MR. GERRANS Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
TIMOTHY COOK . I am head-keeper in Captain Rushbrook's employment at Elstead, and live at Echam Woods, "which belong to him—on the early morning of November 13th I was out night watching with Samuel Croft—I heard the report of a gun in Echam Woods—I went towards it, Croft was with me—I saw five men in the wood; one on my left, he was the nearest to me; the other four were beyond, further off—I could not recognize those four, but the prisoner I recognize as one of the men—he is called "Budd"—I have no doubt about him; he had a gun in his hand—I ran after him, out of the wood into the meadow—he called out, "You b———if you move another inch, I will blow your brains out"—I did not move, I stood still—I said nothing to that expression of his till the other men got at the back of him further away from me—he continued to aim at me with that gun of his for about five minutes—Croft was with me—the prisoner then went through the meadow just after the others—I saw him as far as the gate—as soon as the others had got through the gate, he said, "Come on, you b———, there are five to two"—he got over the gate, and as soon as he did so, he fired at us—it was moonlight, as light as day—some of the pellets from the gun caught my left shoulder and some on the back—the shots were fired one quick after the other—I threw myself down, and the other shots came over me—I shouted out, "Budd, I know you, number I."—I was not close enough to recognize the others—I was about seven yards from the prisoner in the wood—I looked at him while he was backing from me, I never took my eyes off him—he was wearing a soft billy-cock hat—I gave information to the police, and pointed out the spot to the constables—I had not seen the prisoner in the wood before—I had seen him in another wood—I have
been two years in Captain Rushbrook's service, and I was two years in Mr. Giles'—I have known the prisoner all that time—I had seen him about a fortnight before this—at the time he fired he was about 47 yards from me—none of the pellets went through my clothes.
Cross-examined. Croft was about three yards from me—neither of us had moved till after the second shots were fired, they were fired one after another quick as they could be—neither of us were hurt—I had never spoken to the prisoner before that night—I had seen him perhaps a dozen times or 20 times during the two years—he lives about two miles away—when I saw him a week before it was about eleven o'clock at noon—he was then on Mr. Jackson's ground. I did not speak to him then—he was alone and so was I—it was not Captain Rushbrook's wood, but about two miles off—I always called him "Budd,"—I told the police he was called "Budd" and" Lurcher," those are his nicknames—Croft was near enough to hear me say, "I know you Budd," and he knew him as well by sight, the prisoner was then in the shrub—that was the first time I called him "Budd"—the other men were at his back, T could see them but could not identify them, they were too far away—he was 47 yards away when he fired, they might have been some yards at the back of him then—I distinguished the prisoner from the others because I knew him well—the others were 20 or 30 yards away—all this occurred in about 10 or 12 minutes, not more.
Re-examined. I am sure he is the man I saw—I do not know why he went by the name of "Luncher"—when he had fired the two shots he went away with the others all together.
SAMUEL CROFT . I am in the employ of Captain Rushbrook—on November 13th early I was with Cook—I heard a gun go off in Echam Wood, and Me went down to the wood—we saw the poachers there, there were five of them, they were in the wood there together—"Budd" was the nearest to me, there he is (pointing to the prisoner), I called out to the prisoner "we know you Budd," he said "stand back you b———s or I will blow your brains out," the other men were standing behind him towards the gate—he had a gun in his hands, and he pointed it at us, when he said "Stand back/' we did stand back—he then went across the meadow and shot at us—he swore at us when we got on to the common, and said, "come on you b———s," he only fired twice—three of the pellets struck my guernsey; Cook called out to him "I know you Budd"—he went on up the common with the other men—I afterwards went to the police with Cook—I have known the prisoner six years—I have been in his company—I know his voice—I recognized his voice that night—I do not know how close I got to him, I could hardly tell you the distance—he was in the meadow when I first got up to him—we had laid down—I got up and went after him—he is the man.
Cross-examined. I am an under-gardener—I assisted Cook in watching on this night—he was in the meadow when Cook said, "I know you, Budd"—Cook had told me that he was "Budd"—he said, "I know you, Budd, by the billycock hat"—that was before I saw his face—it was not a hard round hat that he had, it was a soft one, one with a dent in at the top—this is it (produced), or one like it—the men were in the wood about half-n-hour before he pointed the gun at us—from first to last it might have been two or three minutes, more or less, it might have been half-an-hour;
I could not swear to be sure—we had no watch to look at—we could see the other men, but we had enough to do with this one—I did not know any of them—Cook went after him, and I followed him—I afterwards went with Cook to look for the police—I was under his orders—I say that is the hat the prisoner wore, or one like it—there are plenty of others about, but I have not seen anyone else wearing one like it.
ALFRED VIGER (126 Surrey Constabulary). Cook came to me on the 14th of last month (Sunday morning), between four and five o'clock, and made a statement to me, and I went and arrested the prisoner—I had known him by the name of "Budd"—I did not know bin right name till he was arrested—I arrested him in a house at Brayshot, about two miles from Echam—when I arrested him he said, "I was at home, I got home at eleven o'clock"—he said, "Is there anyone else beside me in this job?"—I said, "No"—he said, "I don't care a b——as long as there are four or five more"—I then took him to Godalming Station, and I searched his house—he lives with his mother-in-law—he has a wife and two children—the mother-in-law was present when I searched the house—I found this gun loaded and capped in the kitchen corner, and in the front room I found this hat in a box, beneath a quantity of child's clothing.
Cross-examined. The box was not locked—nothing was done to prevent my search—the gun was behind a couch by the fireplace—I had not the least difficulty in finding it—the mother-in-law is a very old woman, getting on for 80, she understood what I said, and spoke to me.
GUILTY .—Two other convictions were proved against the prisoner, one for assaulting the police and one for poaching— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
ELIZA REED . I am the wife of Alfred Reed, of 6, High Street, Lambeth, he is the landlord and we occupy the house—the prisoner and her husband and six children occupied two rooms on the first floor back—they came about two years ago—her husband does not live there now—he left about four months ago—I heard him complain to the prisoner that she was very dirty—the eldest child is about 10—Ethel Rose was apparently about two years old—the mother looked after the children after the father left, there was no one else to look after them—she told me that her husband allowed her 27s. 6d. a week, out of which, she had to pay 7s. 6d. rent—I did not see him give her clothes for the children, but I have seen the clothes on the children and have heard her say, "Your father has bought them"—the children were sometimes left alone from ten a.m. till five p.m., only the boy of ten had the care of them—that happened once or twice a-week and she would return the worse for drink—I saw her frequently the worse for drink, she was very much addicted to drink—the child died on Friday, the 16th, and on the Friday before that the prisoner was out till five o'clock—I saw Rose Ethel on that day sitting by the fender about two o'clock, after dinner, she had a petticoat and chemise on but no boots—the other children
were very dirty, and so was the room—I gave her notice to go, in conse-quence of the dirt; she did not go—I got a warrant on the Monday, and an officer came to execute it—on Tuesday, November 16th, I went up with him and ray husband to the room—the children were all undressed; there were five of them—Rose was one; she was in a bassi-nette, and had only a chemise on—the other children were very dirty, except one—I could not find any clothes—it was a foggy and misty day—I took the little boy and Rose Ethel down to the kitchen to warm them—the prisoner came in about 12.30, and her husband gave her some money to go and buy some boots and clothes—she went out, and took Ethel with her from the bassinette—I told her that the child had nothing on her—I did not force her to take the child out—she covered it with a shawl which she was wearing—I don't know whether the child had anything else on—I thought it looked poorly; its breath was very short with bronchitis, or something of that sort.
HENRY BARNES (152 L). On November 16th I went to 6, High Street to execute a warrant—I went to the front room, which was occu-pied by the prisoner and her children—I did not go into the back room, because the landlady told me it was empty—the front room was in a very filthy state—there were two or three pails of excrement there—I never smelt such a smell in my life; it was shocking—I could not stand there—the children had no clothes at all, only little shirts—I saw no clothes in the room, but I did not look—some of the children were taken down into the kitchen by the landlady.
Cross-examined. One was a pail, another was a chamber and another a tile stand—they were in the room.
By the COURT. I have been in a good many houses, about one a day, because I am a warrant officer, the house was more dirty and more stinking than other houses of a similar character, it was the worst I have been into—I know the husband from seeing him but have no personal knowledge of him, I have not made inquiries about him, I have gone to him to get school-board fines and have always got them.
ALICE LAIVNIA SNELLING . I occupy the shop at 146 Lambeth Walk—on Tuesday, November 16th, the prisoner came there carrying a bundle—she had two boys with her, one about nine and one younger—the eldest had on a pair of stockings, a pair of knickerbockers and a coat, but no shoes—I cannot say if he had a shirt—the other had a little jacket, a hat, no stockings, and a pair of boots—I saw a bundle—a corner of her apron dropped and I saw the lower part of a child's body—the bundle consisted of the child Rose Ethel—it had no clothes on the lower part of its body—she said she had been turned out of her room and she was going to take the children to the workhouse—she said the child had caught the measles—she then discovered that the child was dead in her arms—she first discovered it herself—I sent for a doctor and a policeman.
ELIZA REED (Re-examined). It was on account of her dirtiness that I got rid of her, I mean the state in which she kept both the children and the room—I have heard what the policeman said, it is true that the room smelt badly—it was in a filthy condition—she has got much worse since her husband went away from her—the husband is a clerk, I think—he was a decent sober man, he always came in quietly—I do not think the
place was fit for the habitation of children as it was kept—I am not responsible for the cleanliness of the rooms I let to the woman, but the dirt was habitual for the last few months—it was not healthy in the house—at times the bodies of the children were kept clean at other times they were neglected—I think that the cause of the neglect was that she had too much drink—the children were fed pretty fair, nothing much to complain of as regards the food—I never saw any insects on them—as far as I was concerned it was the filthy condition of the house that was the objectionable matter—I do not know what she did with the childrens' clothing.
ARCHIBALD BLAIR . I am a fully qualified medical man of 50, Broad Street, Lambeth—on November 16th, in the middle of the day, I went to Mrs. Snelling's shop, and saw the prisoner there, with the child Rose Ethel about two years old, lying on her lap—life was extinct—it had on a chemise, a grey shawl and a black shawl somewhat similar to what the prisoner has on—that clothing was not sufficient for it—I examined it, it was fairly well nourished—the face and body were dirty—the face had apparently not been washed—I cannot say whether it was habitual dirt—I will not say that it had not been cleaned for days, but there was continuous neglect—I made a post-mortem examination and found that it had been suffering from acute pneumonia before death for three or four days judging from the state of the lungs—it would be obvious to the mother that the child was suffering, there would be certain symptoms, first cough, secondly, quickened breath, thirdly, fever and increased heat of the body—I heard the way it was clothed when the police went into the room—that would be injurious—it ought to be very different in regard to clothing—it was "most improper to take it out in that condition.
By the, COURT. It was insufficiently clothed—its condition should have been obvious to a mother from the premonitory symptoms—it would be decidedly injurious to a child of that age to breathe an offensive atmosphere—I did not speak to the mother about it—I saw no evidence of rash from its having had measles—I found traces of food having been given to it within the last 24 hours—there was nothing to lead me to believe that there had been insufficient feeding.
GEORGE EDWARDS (Police-Sergeant L). I was present before the coroner but was not called—I arrested the prisoner on the 22nd—she said, I have always been kind to my children, I fed them well and gave them good food, I know my rooms were dirty when the policeman came, I could not help that as I had been ill"—I have known her husband about six months, he is a clerk employed by a bookmaker, a betting man—he is a respectable man, a teetotaler he tells me—I have been in his company frequently, more especially since this case—I never saw the prisoner before in my life.
GUILTY of wilful neglect calculated to give unnecessary suffering. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
Stockwell—on December 4th, a few minutes before ten p.m., I entered my stable to put my horse away—I struck a match, and was immediately seized by the throat and strangled till I became insensible—I did not fall—I reeled against the chaff bin—I saw the prisoner's face—I have known him about 12 years, from a boy—I came to in about two minutes, and found his hand in my pocket—he robbed me of over £4—I gave him into custody next day—I found a halfpenny in the stable—the police found the cap.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see you that night—I was not near the road—I went into a public-house, and did not leave till after eleven—you did not see me—I did not rob you of over £4—I was not near the place.
Re-examined. I saw his face by the light of the match—I left the small door undone, but found it open—he followed me into the stable-yard at about 3.30 in the afternoon.
CHARLES HAWKINS (Detective Officer W). On December 4th the last witness came to the station—I saw on his neck a very red mark—I could see where finger marks had been—he said he had been robbed—on the following day I was near the Gordon public-house, and saw the prisoner—I arrested him in consequence of a description—he said, "This is all right on a Sunday; God strike me dead, guvernor, I did not have it, but I heard the old man had been robbed"—at the station this cap lay on a stand, and he tried it on, and said, "This one fits me, but I have not had it on for months"—at the station before he was charged he said, "I never see the man," pointing to the prosecutor, "You make a great mistake, Mr. Cowley, I have never been near his stables, and I do not know where his stables are; I never saw half-a-sovereign, let alone £4—you are charging me for nothing—that cap has nothing to do with me"—Cowley brought the cap to the station, and handed it to me—I found on the prisoner 6d. in silver and 2 1/2d. in bronze.
HERBERT SAUNDERS (105 W). I know the prisoner—I met him on December 4th in Acre Lane, Brixton, three or four minutes' walk from Stockwell—he was wearing a cap—I had seen him before with the same cap—I know the cap as it has such a close fit on his forehead—I had a description of him for something else—it was not the cap he is wearing now—I took particular notice of his clothing—I say positively it was not the cap now produced—I did not take his cap off his head—I was in plain clothes.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was never near the stables: I never see the man."
Prisoner's Defence: They have charged me here for nothing: I was not near the place when it was done; I have been working there for six years; I never robbed anybody of a halfpenny yet.
GUILTY .—He received a good character.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MADDELINE HOVENDEN . I am the wife of a medical practitioner in Kingston-on-Thames—I remember Saturday morning, November 20th—at about 10.451 was walking along Springfield Road—I was carrying my purse in my right hand—Mrs. Phillips was with me—the prisoners came up from behind and snatched my purse out of my hand—they both ran away—I turned round and ran after them—I caught a glimpse of the one who snatched the purse—he is the taller man, Smith—I am not so sure about the other man, but he was dressed pretty well as he is now.
ANNIE PHILLIPS . I am a widow, and live at Nansford House, South Norwood—I was walking with Mrs. Hovenden at Kingston-on-Thames—I saw a man running away from her, but I did not see him snat h the purse—there were two men—I ran after them—the prisoner Smith is one of the men; I saw his face—I saw him again on Monday at the police-station—it was Smith I picked out—I think Burkwood was one of the men—I identified Smith, but I did not try and identify Burkwood—I saw him when he was taken before the Magistrate on Tuesday morning—I cannot be sure that he is one of the men who I saw when Mrs. Hovenden was robbed.
CLAUD FREEMAN . I attend school—On Saturday morning, November 20th, I was in Springfield Road—I saw two men running with two ladies pursuing them—one lady was Mrs. Hovenden—the prisoners are the two men Mrs. Hovenden was pursuing—Burkwood was one of them—I had never seen him before—I picked him out at once from a lot of men at Kingston-on-Thames on the following Friday—I am quite sure of him.
ALFRED WILSON I am a greengrocer of Kingston-on-Thames—On the morning of Saturday, November 20th, I heard that Mrs. Hovenden bad been robbed of her purse—I ran after two men—I am quite sure that Burkwood was one of the men—I can swear to Smith—I did not see the face of the other—I saw the other—The other man was about the height of Burkwood—I said before the Magistrate "The other defendant resembles the man but I did not have as good a look at him."
JOHN JORDAN . I live at 108, Elm Road, Kingston—I am a general dealer—I know both the prisoners—I have known Burkwood for 15 years—I have seen them together several times—they were together on November 20th—I was passing through Springfield Road with my horse and cart—I saw the two prisoners and passed them, and had gone about 20 or 30 yards when they came running by me again—I Raw the ladies pass after that—I did not see the two ladies run after the two men—the men ran past my cart—I passed Mrs. Hovenden and her friend—the ladies were in front and behind them the two men—I was going slow.
WALTER BURDOCK (Detective E). On Saturday, November 20th, I received certain information, and on Monday I saw Burkwood in Kingston Market Place—I said to him "You answer the description of a man concerned with another in robbing a lady on November 20th"—on reading the charge he said you say I had the purse, I know nothing about it—the boy picked him out at once from nine others on the 22nd.
Burkwood's statement before the Magistrate: "She says she lost her purse at 10.45—I was in Spring Gardens at ten o'clock—The boy said he saw me running but I know nothing about the lady's purse.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Guildford on June 10th, 1895, of burglary, and other convictions were proved against Him— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months'.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 10TH, 1898.