CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD MARCH 7TH 1898.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ., Q.C.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, March 7th, 1898, and following days,
BEFORE the RIGHT HON. HORATIO DAVID DAVIES , M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WILLIAM GRANTHAM , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart., M.P., Alderman of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., Q.G., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt., GEORGE WYATT TRUSCOTT , Esq., THOMAS PURDIE TRELOAR, Esq., FREDERICK PRATT ALLISTON, Esq., THOMAS VEZEY STRONG , Esq., HENRY GEORGE SMALLMAN , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
RICHARD CLARENCE HALSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
DAVIES, MAYOR. FIFTH SESSION,
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two start (**) 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, March 7th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN AND BASSETT Prosecuted. NATHANIEL HOPKINS BURGH. I am a half-commision clerk to Messrs. Edward Erlam Booth and others, of Copthall Avenue, and as such I have the right to go into the Stock Exchange—I think Mr. Gird wood introduced the prisoner to me—he told me he wanted me to help him with some shares on the Stock Exchange, and he had an option in some Lake View Shares, and he wanted to know of some good solicitors—I told him of some, and advised him to consult a solicitor, as the outside broker disputed the bargain—he gave me to understand that there would be a very handsome profit of £2,000 or £3,000—he asked me to acquire some options for him, which I did—on November 12th he asked me to buy 500 shares in the Great Boldero Company, which I did—I have made an extract from my ledger which I have here—my first transaction with the prisoner was for 500 shares at 17-16th which would amount to £725 1s.—I believed him to be a man who had made a profit of between £2,000 and £3,000—when I did business with the prisoner I did not know that he was unable to pay his various landlords—I am half-commission clerk, and am responsible for half the losses, and I get half the profits—I have never heard the name "runner"—the terms are the ordinary terms of gentlemen who are engaged as I am—on November 17th, the prisoner instructed me to buy, the option, or to take up 500 Lake View Consols for the late January account—I took them up at 1-16th per share—I am out of £625 1s.—the prisoner never exercised that option—he instructed me to buy 250 shares in the West Australian Market Trust—that came to £4 12s. 9d.—this is my cheque for £4 12s. 9d.—that has been through our bankers and
been duly honoured—I sold 100 Charters on December 13th—that would mean £2,724 19s.—that was the last transaction I had with the prisoner—on November 12th, these 500 shares were sold for £612 7s. showing a loss of £2,112 12s,—on December 15th, we heard he never took his option and it made me liable for £625 1s.—on December 8th, the West Australians were sold at a loss to you of £13 12s. 6d.—I was instructed to sell 100 Charters—on December 30th, I had to buy them back showing a loss of £314 14s. 3d.—the total loss has been £1,083—we have never received a farthing of that—I know his handwriting—these letters (produced) are in his writing—at the time of this transaction he told me he expected a large cheque at Christmas and he proposed to operate with half of it—when he told me to buy the 100 Charters, a friend of mine was there when he said it—the prisoner told me he was going to leave London—I have written to him repeatedly but have got no answer.
(Three letters from the prisoner to the witness were here read.)
Cross-examined by the prisoner. These proceedings are not taken only at the instigation of Erlam Booth, there are other firms who have been let in who are paying half the costs—We have consulted our solicitors about this, and with other firms, but we should have taken proceedings in any case, their decision would not have made any difference—I did not ask Mr. Girdwood about it—I issued this warrant when I found that you were a man of absolutely no means—I discovered that you had no means when you owed me about £1,000 when I closed the account—I still believe that you are a man of no means whatever, but not when I opened business with you—I should be very glad if you were a man of means—I have not tried to stop these proceedings since I took out the warrant—I have not been advised by anyone to do so since I discovered certain facts—you gave a very practical proof of your insolvency, you did not settle your debts—I do not think that anyone told me that you were insolvent—I have known Mr. Girdwood about three years—I consider him a thoroughly responsible and highly respectable gentleman—if he guaranteed anyone I should undertake business for him—if it was only on his introduction it would depend on who it was—if he was not satisfactory I should not open an account with anybody—I have never done any cover business myself—I have known Mr. Curry a good many years, perhaps six or seven—I met him at Mr. Johnson's house—I did not meet him through Mr. Girdwood—I see Mr. Girdwood two or three times a year—I cannot say if I am more often at Mr. Girdwood's office than my own, my time is my own I can be where I like—I will not say if I have acted for Mr. Girdwood or not—he was introduced to me about the beginning of November—he does not do any business with my firm—I do not think I wrote to Mr. Curry with regard to you—I went to him when I found I had £1,000 against you—that was after Christmas—since then you have had no other transaction with me—I closed the account—I could not close it all at once—I closed all I could—I found that the Charters were weak—when I saw Mr. Curry he told me a good many things about you—he told me that you owed him some money—he did not tell me it was all right, he told me it was all wrong—I think he said it was a matter of about £3.000 or £4,000—he told me you had married a lady with money—I believe I did write you a letter, I am not quite sure—(letter
produced and read) "4, Copthall Chambers, Stock Exchange, November 5th, 1897. Dear Sir,—Many thanks for your visit, I greatly, regret that I was out at the time, I shall be most happy to see you, and shall be glad if you will favour me with your telegraphic address, as I always like to keep my clients well posted in the affairs they deal in"—I say in face of that letter that I should not have done business straight away with you unless I saw you, it was only a courteous thing to do to write that letter, as you had called, we could then arrange what we should do—I may have left word that if you called, to ascertain whether you wanted to do business, it would hardly be necessary in our business to do so—I did not say anything about gambling with a cheque—you made that statement there was somebody present—it was made outside the door of the Stock Exchange—you were talking about the cheque on the way from the Cannon Street Hotel—I had not lunched very freely, you may have done so—I did not ask you for any security or cover—I have not at one time or another asked you to purchase shares—you have asked my advice on several occasions and I have advised you to the best of my power—you asked what was good option and I thought the West Australians were, I was only advising you as to business—if you had felt so disposed you could not have run me to a very much larger extent, as I refused your last order—it would not have made a bigger loss to me if you had bought the shares, because I should have closed the account—I consulted somebody about you, Mr. Girdwood did not advise me in the matter—I do not remember ever seeing this contract, I do not know if that is the one, you showed me a contract—I did not tell you to do anything with it, you showed me the contract which you repudiated—we went to the firm of solicitors who are prosecuting, they are my solicitors.
Re-examined. The names of the firms who are connected with the prosecution are J. & J. Read, Muir and Scott, and Dean Swift—the prisoner has had dealings with Dean Swift—Mr. Girdwood did not make himself responsible for the prisoner, it was simply an introduction—I certainly thought the prisoner had £2,000 or £3,000 in his possession—I should not have done business with him if Mr. Girdwood had introduced him only, I should if he had guaranteed him but no business man would do so.
JOHN GURDWOOD . I reside at 93, Addison Road, Kensington—I have a business at 18, St. Swithin's Lane—I have known the prisoner for some time—I remember him calling on me in November—he told me he had come to ask advice with reference to some transactions he had had on the Stock Exchange—I do not remember his mentioning any names—he said they were outside brokers, that he had made a loss of about £600, which had not been paid—he asked me what course I should advise him to pursue—I advised him to go and see a solicitor—he asked me, after he had got this matter settled, whether I would introduce him to a firm of brokers in the House—I made some enquiries as to his means, he said he would be perfectly sure to get his money—he told me he had made £3,000 on option; he mentioned the Lake Views—I cannot say that I personally introduced him to Mr. Burch—I telephoned to Mr. Burch that I was sending a person over to him, and to make enquiries about him—I gave
the prisoner no guarantee, I told him he must make his own enquiries.
Cross-examined. I first go to know you by seeing you in the employment of the Bovril Company—I do not know if that is seven or eight years ago—I do not remember having seen you since the time I first met you, previous to your lust visit to my office—I well remember your visit in November—I should think you were in my office about five minutes—it was not above half-an-hour—I cannot say that I remember everything that transpired at that interview—you did not ask me then to find you a situation—I do not remember your saying that if you could get £3 or £4 a week you would be glad, I never heard it till now—I do not recollect your showing me a contract from an outside broker—I advised you to go to a firm of solicitors, I did not mention any—I see Mr. Burch almost daily—the introduction to him was made by telephone and I sent you over to him, the telephone is working every hour—I do not know what you did after you left my place—when I telephoned to Mr. Burch you had either just gone or were just going—I should certainly not have introduced you to Mr. Burch as a friend, supposing nothing had been mentioned about the £2,000 or £3,000—I introduced you to Mr. Burch at your request, I understood from the tone of your conversation that you had dealings with other brokers at that time—I am well acquainted with Mr. Curry and have been so for six or seven years—I think that the first time I saw Mr. Burch, after I saw you, I asked him to see Mr. Curry, I do not know when it was—the first time your means was spoken about, was by yourself to me—since then I have ascertained nothing—I am a perfectly willing witness in this case—Mr. Burch has not told me that he would hold me responsible for any loss that he might have—Mr. Burch did not take my opinion before this case, he told me perhaps he would have to summon me as a witness, and I was very annoyed to hear it—I attended at the Guildhall—on a previous occasion the officer of the Court sent for me and it was impossible for me to come—I attended the next week.
Re-examined. I think the prisoner was in the advertising department of Bovril, Limited—I attended at the Guildhall and gave my evidence as I have given it to-day.
FREDERICK HOLMES (Detective). On February 4th, at ten o'clock in the evening, I saw the prisoner in Old Jewry—I said to him, "Is your name William Edwin Crawford"—he said "Yes." I read the warrant to him—in reply he said "I did not think they could take criminal proceedings against me"—I found two cheque books on him—one is on the London and County Banking Company and the other on the City Bank, Ludgate. Hill Branch—I found upon him seven letters and two telegrams. MR. BURCH (Re-called). Our telegraphic address is "Affinity."
PHILIP MORTIMER . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank at Henrietta Street—the defendant had an account there from February to December, 1896—I produce a copy of his account, the books from which it is made up are now in the service of the bank—the account was closed on December 23rd, 1896, and when it was so closed there was an over-draft of 12s. 10d. owing to us—we closed it.
Cross-examined. I did not know anything about your account when you called—I have not heard our manager say that you called, and say that you had issued a cheque on our bank for £10 odd when he said, "No your account is closed and we cannot do any thing further."
CHAS. JAMES FARLEY . I am a clerk in the Ludgate Hill Branch of the City Bank—I produce a certified account of one, William Seaford—I have compared the account with the ledger and find it correct—it was opened on May 12th, 1896, and closed on February 18th, 1897—there was then a credit of 2s. 10d. which we took for charges—that cheque book (produced) was issued by our bank—on November 21st, 1896, in the cheque book I find a cheque is drawn in that account for £8, the number is 6195—that is one of the cheques of the counterfoils in the book—on December 1st there is a cheque drawn for £4, No. 61952—there are cheques here down to February 18th—all those are counterfoils which appear in the book in the name of William Seaford.
JAMES THOMPSON CURRIE . I am one of the managers of Bovril, Limited—I am a friend of the prisoner—I have known him about eight years—he left the Bovril Company in 1892—he was a book-keeper, I think his wages were £2 a week—I have seen him frequently since he has left the Company—he left to go into an advertising company's office—I do not know how long he was there—I do not know when he left there—for some time he was with another advertising agent, but since then I do not know what he has been doing—he was last in an advertising agent's office about three or four years ago—he has been doing nothing, I think, since—I have never seen that cheque before to my knowledge—I remember the prisoner coming to me in May, 1897, and bringing a cheque—it was in the prisoner's handwriting—I have destroyed it—I paid it into my bank and it was returned—the signature was in the name of William Seaford—I had never known him going under the name of Seaford till then—it was drawn on the Ludgate Hill Branch of the City Bank—I asked him why it was in an assumed name, and he said it was the name under which he had been doing some business.
Cross-examined. I have known you about eight years—you left the Bovril Company with the very highest credentials—I did not hear that a warrant had been taken out against you till after your arrest—I was surprised—I had no notice that it was likely to be done—I remember that about 1896 you got married—I do not remember you showing me a rather bulky document which was a copy of a will taken from Somerset House—I remember that you told me you had married a lady of means—I do not remember the sum, I do not remember that it was £30,000 or £40,000, I think you told me it was more than £2,000, I think it was £10,000—my impression was that you had married a lady with £10,000 and that the money had been paid to you, it struck me as being rather a curious proceeding—I think it is very likely that I congratulated you on this settlement, and I tried to give you good advice at that time—I think I understood that the money was a reversion, I am not quite sure, I did not see any document—I have seen you frequently since you have been married—I did not know what you were doing with that money—you told me you had a business at Charing Cross, I think it was a Debt recovery business in a legal way—I had not heard you speak of stocks and shares up to the time of your marriage—I recollect passing through my account a cheque for £427—I cannot remember that I have cashed cheques for you—I did that because, in the first instance, it was in consequence of as introduction to Mr. Muir when you. entered into a ransaction with him, and when I did introduce you to Mr. Muir
it was immediately after he had married someone with a lot of money; it was in order that he might invest his money properly, but did not take advantage of that until, perhaps, a year afterwards—during that time I began to have doubts as to whether he had money, because on one or two occasions he had borrowed money from me, because when I consulted with Mr. Muir he told me he had been in business with Mr. Crawford, and I said I was sorry to hear it—I sent for the prisoner and asked him what he had been doing and he said that he expected some money—Mr. Muir agreed to stop the bankruptcy proceedings, if he paid him £250 on settling day and £50 on the following settling day, and it was arranged that Mr. Crawford was to bring a cheque for the stocks he had sold to him, and I was to give the money to Mr. Muir, and I did that—I think I passed the cheques in October or November.
Re-examined. I knew the prisoner in 1897—I knew of one address, it was in Cambridge Street, it was not in Woburn Place—I do not know how long he was staying there—I do not think he ever showed me a single document about the £10,000—I cannot say if he was married in 1896—I did not write and congratulate him—I did not give him a present—he was not an old friend—he did not write to me, he told me of it personally.
Re-examined by the prisoner. I think I remember a certain transaction with a well-known gentleman in London, whereby you told me you were likely to receive a tolerably large sum of money.
CHARLES EDWAED LEWIS . I am a clerk to Mr. Butcher, a solicitor, of 26, Bedford Row, who is the solicitor to Messrs. Muir and Scott, the firm of stockbrokers—I produce a judgment against the prisoner for £292—I think it is dated December 16th, 1897—it has never been satisfied—a bankruptcy note was taken out—I have tried to serve that note on the prisoner but I have not been able to do so—I went to his residence, but could not find him there, and until he was in custody I never saw him.
Cross-examined. I have not got a judgment summons against you, we issued a writ against you in November for £292—I did not serve that on you personally, it is not necessary, bankruptcy proceeding had been taken against you—we wrote to your solicitors that we should take out a bankruptcy notice if we did not get the debt satisfied—I have never seen the solicitor myself, my fellow clerk has seen him—I tried to find you at Montague Place—I called twice, the first time they said you had just gone to business and the second time they said you had gone altogether, they wanted to find you out—I have never seen your wife—they did not tell me you had gone to Scotland—I did not call again after that date.
THOMAS GLENCROSS . I produce the original telegram handed in at the Waverley Station at Edinburgh on January 1st, (read) "Timely, London. Please get me 100 Lake Views at best value,"—"Timely" is the telegraphic address of Dean Swift.
WILLIAM FERGUSSON . I am in the employ of Dean Swift and Co., who are members of the Stock Exchange, of 18 and 19 Old Broad Street, their telegraphic address is "Timely"—our firm received that telegram on January 3rd—the 1st is a Stock Exchange holiday, we received it on the first open day. "Decline not to be done" is written across it—that is in Mr. Muir's handwriting, he is one of the partners in our firm.
Cross-examined. I have been with Dean Swift for about two years—I knew that you had transactions with them—I should think your account
was closed in November last, it was quite satisfactory as far as I know—I think I can say how much money was paid to you, on September 15th, we paid you £117 14s. 6d, on October 14th, £143 19s. 3d., and on November 26th, £8 14s. 6d.
By the COURT. We never received any cheque from him, he paid in Bank of England notes when he lost—I do not know how much he lost MR. BURCH (Re-called.) This is the original telegram and it is in the prisoners handwriting.
THOMAS WINTER . I keep a lodging-house at 73, Cambridge Terrace, Paddington—the prisoner lodged there from September 1896 till February 3rd, 1897, when he left, owing me £11 3s. 7d.—he gave me this cheque for £10 15s. (On the London and County Bank, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, and dated January 30th, 1897)—it was sent back marked "Refer to drawer"—I read this letter from him (Of April 5th, 1897, regretting that he could not get cash and promising payment)—I tried to find him—I have not been paid.
Cross-examined. You paid promptly at first—you made no appeals or representations to me—on leaving you left no address—I did not give you leave to use my name—I instructed a collector to try and get the money—he did not tell me you would pay if I ceased to annoy you.
CHRISTINA BECKTON . I live at 10, Upper Woburn Place—the prisoner and his family boarded with me from February 3rd to March 17th—then he left his wife, a nurse and one child at the house for about ten days—he owed £14 then—the total amount due is £17—none has been paid.
Cross-examined. You left no address—you went to an adjacent hotel—your wife said you had gone to Scotland to get money to pay—my father lives in Keppel Street—he did not let you use his house—he has not told me so—I sent my father to try and get the money from you several times—I do not recollect his saying he would get the money by foul or fair means.
Re-examined. I found out he had gone to 103, Gower Street.
INSPECTOR HOLMES (Re-examined). I have been to 103, Gower Street and obtained information of a Mrs. Cooper, who is too ill to come here.
Cross-examined. She gave no reason why you did not settle your account there—you did not settle it.
JAMES MUIR . I am one of the firm of Muir & Scott, brokers on the London Stock Exchange, carrying on business in Finch Lane—in 1897 the prisoner had several transactions with the firm—he left us owing us £594—we threatened proceedings—before they were taken the prisoner had paid us £250—judgment has been signed for the balance—our solicitors have a notice in bankruptcy against him which they have not been able to serve.
Cross-examined. We carry over shares with a view to cover sometimes, it depends upon the client—I first heard your name from Mr. Currie—we do business with him—he said you were a man of means; that you had married a lady with £10,000; that you had power over it, or I should not have done business with you—you called on me about four months before we did business—I do not recollect when the first transaction was—shares were carried over for you—you were credited with the first account—I did not pay you. because I had my suspicions of you—there were transactions in Transvaal
Gold and other shares—as an investment of the £10,000—you did not take up the shares—stockbrokers do as they are instructed—I kept £50 as a cover—it is usual for a client to come and ask for his differences—I received your letter from 30, Cambridge Street, asking me to buy Transvaal Gold shares—I replied—you did not take up 500 Chartereds—I did not buy them—if the shares had been bought you would have had money, because they went up £2—very likely about £550—I did not threaten you with criminal proceedings—I wrote this letter of 1st September—it does not threaten criminal proceedings, although I remark "it is very questionable if it is not criminal."
Re-examined. We are paid by commission—we are liable to the jobber for stocks taken up and not paid for.
ELIZABETH COWELL . I live at 30, Cambridge Street, Padding ton—the prisoner lodged at my house from August 24th to December 13th with his wife and child—he then owed me £4—that has never been paid—when he left he said he expected money at Christmas.
Cross-examined. You paid something off the last bill—I have since had a letter from you stating you would send on the £4—I have not the letter—I did not keep the appointment—you asked me to meet you at the Marble Arch and said that you would pay me the cash—I thought it wait your place to come and pay it—I did not find out you had gone to Scotland, you were at Montague Place.
OSCAR CLAUSSEON . I live at 2, Montague Place, Russell Square—the prisoner lodged with me from 14th till 29th December, when he disappeared, owing me £4 8s. 10d.—he left his wife and child—his wife paid something for a subsequent period.
Cross-examined. Your wife did not say she had left you ample money to pay the bill—she told me she was left without means—I thought you had run away—your wife stayed one week after you left—she paid for the week she was there—I did not make things unpleasant for her—you made no false representation to me.
The prisoner, in defence, produced a long written statement to the effect that up to Saturday he had hoped to have been defended by Counsel; that at the end of October he had £600 in cash and £400 with outside brokers, and I.O.U.'s for large amounts when he was arrested, which he called upon Inspector Holmes to produce, and now he would not get a penny of the thousands he had hoped to receive; that he had gambled on the Stock Exchange and so had been unable to meet his liabilities, end had merely exaggerated his position with a view to obtain credit.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
200. EMMA REYNOLDS (24) PLEADED GUILTY to endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child. There was no evidence of violence, nor that the child had had a separate existence, and the prisoner's father was willing to take her home, and her late employers were ready when her health was restored, to take her back into their service.— To enter into recognizances of £5, to come up for judgment when called upon. And
(201) ARTHUR WILLIAM SALES (31) to stealing, whilst in the service of Oscar Levy, 25 dozen, 40 dozen and 84 dozen calf skins. He received an excellent character, and was stated to have been tempted to dispose of the skins for the benefit of another.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Judgment Respited.
NEW COURT.—Monday, March 7th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
203. WILLIAM YATTON (42) to maliciously damaging a window, value £10, the property of James Bell.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] He had been convicted three times of breaking the same window.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
(204) CHARLES HUNTER** (21) to stealing three pieces of silk, the property of Sir Francis Cook and others, haying been convicted on July 3rd, 1894.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
EMMA PASHLEY . I am barmaid at the Northumberland Arms, Wells Street, Oxford Street—on February 10th, between ten and eleven p.m., the prisoner came in with a friend who is now outside, and asked for a glass of stout and a glass of ale, which came to 7d., he tendered a shilling—I gave it to the landlord, who came forward and spoke to the prisoner.
MONTAGU CLAUD COOK . I keep the Northumberland Arms—on February 10th, the last witness brought me this coin, I tried it and found it was bad—I went to the prisoner and said that it was given to my barmaid—his companion said, "Are you sure?" I said, "Positive"—he put down a good florin—his companion said, "I have paid for the drink," and asked for the shilling back—I refused and said, "If there is any doubt about it I will take the consequences"—a constable came and I told him, he said that it was bad and I gave the prisoner in charge—this is the coin.
Cross-examined. The policeman came in two or three minutes—you had an opportunity of going out, and you remained till he came.
CHARLES REED . I was sent for to the Northumberland Arms and saw the prisoner and a man who I knew as his brother—the landlord said that he bad passed a bad shilling, and gave him into custody, he said that he was innocent—I searched him on the spot and found four sixpences and four pence—I received information from Mr. Page and went there, and he and his assistant identified the prisoner.
GEORGE HENRY PAGE . I am a grocer of 43, Carlisle Street, Oxford Street—on Saturday, February 5th, about nine p.m., the prisoner came in for goods which came to 1s. 2d. and handed me this 5s. piece and the odd 2d.—I gave him change and he left—while I was serving him I felt that I was taking a bad coin, he kept on conversing and as soon as he got to the door I went after him, but he was gone—I afterwards picked him out from a number of men in the police yard, I have no doubt of him—I was asked to give evidence before the Magistrate, but on the following day I broke a blood vessel.
Cross-examined. I recognize you by your jaunty air and the cut of your hair—I was suspicious of you at the time and marked you—as to my identifying you by your withered arm, you had one arm in your pocket—there were four parcels, you put them all into your pockets—I did not pick out somebody else first, I went straight to you.
shop—I was present when the prisoner came, and picked him out on February 11th from a number of men.
Cross-examined. I could have seen through a window who my uncle picked out, but I did not.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "All I have to say is that I do not remember being in Page's shop."
Evidence for the defence.
EDWARD SULLIVAN . I am the prisoner's brother—I was at his place in Euston Road this day from 8.45 till 10.5—ray wife and her mother were there and a young woman named Agnes Wales—I went with the prisoner to a public-house and paid with a shilling—I don't believe he knew it was bad—he asked for it to be given back to him and it was refused—he persisted and a constable was sent for—I went to the station.
Cross-examined. It was I who asked for the shilling back—the landlord sent for a constable, but it was fully 15 minutes before one came, I judge so because there was a lot of argument and somebody said "Return him the money"—I fix the time because the police pass at 10.5 every night, I was standing at my brother's door and bid him good night at 10.5—I know that I went at 8.45 because I bought a book to read called "For God and the Czar," and I had only read one page when he came—my mother is not here, or Agnes Wales, I did not think it necessary as they said that they could not speak to the time—I cannot tell you what my brother was doing on the Saturday before—I fir this Saturday night because my brother said, "Do you remember Saturday night?" I said, "Why?" He said, "I am charged with doing a thing I never did in my life"—Mr. Page's shop is 200 or 250 yards from my place.
Prisoner's defence: There is a window at the station and I was standing 15 yards from it, I was placed with four or five little fellows and some old men; if I was at my brother's place at 10.5 it is impossible that I could be there.
GUILTY **.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, March 8th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
207. WALTER BENTLY (45) , to obtaining money by false pretences, and to a previous conviction of a like offence by means of false cheques.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
208. JOHN READ (44) , to stealing a purse from the person of Hannah Howe, and to a previous conviction. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Other convictions were also proved against him.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
210. JAMES EDWARD CROFT (24) , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, a letter containing a silk handkerchief and gloves, also a letter containing a florin, a half-sovereign, and a chain.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
211. FREDERICK CHARLES BROWN (40) , to stealing, whilst employed in the Post Office, two letters containing money and a Post Office Order for 4s. 6d. The prisoner had been many years in the Post Office, and being suspected was tested, but could not be detected for a long period, others being consequently under suspicion.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Years' Penal Servitude. And
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SOPER Prosecuted.
FREDERICK AUSTIN WOOD . I am in the confidential branch of the General Post Office—I was instructed to inquire into the loss of letters at Maida Hill Office—on February 18th I made up a letter addressed to Mr. L.B., a pawnbroker, and enclosed in it an order for 3s. 6d, and a type-written letter—I posted it at three in the afternoon at Maida Hill letter box—I gave instructions to the overseer at the office—next afternoon, about two, I saw the prisoner in the Edgware Road, outside a music-hall—I told him who I was and said, "In consequence of the loss of numerous letters that should have been delivered from the office suspicion has attached to you, and a test letter, which I described, was placed among his letters last night, what did you do with it"—he said, "I delivered it and it was given back to me"—I said, "You did not repost it"—he said, "Yes I did"—a constable was present—I told the prisoner he would have to go to the office, which he did—I there said to him "The letter was not reposted by you"—he said, "I know I did not"—he took the letter from his pocket and said "I opened it to see what was in it, I should have reported it on my duty and I should have done it to-night.
GEORGE COLLEY . I aid overseer at Maida Hill Sorting Office—on February 18th I received instructions from Mr. Wood and in consequence I took a letter out of the box and placed it among others, which it was the prisoner's duty to deliver—if he found a mis-sort amongst his letters it was his duty to place it on one side and then take it to the sorting table and place it there, and endorse it and repost it—on that evening I went to the Chippenham Road box and found three letters had been reposted, but did not find that one.
PENELOPE BROWN . I am the wife of a postman and live at 19, Barnwell Road, Maida Hill—on the evening of February 18th, about ten, the prisoner left a letter which was not intended for our house, and I called him back and gave it to him—it was addressed to Barnwell Road, N.
MATTHEW TOWER . I am a constable attached to the Post Office—on February 19th I was with Mr. "Wood when he saw the prisoner—I have heard his evidence, it is correct—I searched the prisoner, but found nothing on him relating to this charge—he produced this letter from his coat pocket—I went to his house and found a letter addressed to Mr. Martinez, not in his walk—it bore evidence of having been tampered with—it had been opened and reclosed.
The prisoner, in his defend, alleged that finding the letter after his delivery, he retained it in order to report it, but forgot to do so. He received a good character.
GUILTY .— Eight Months' Hard Labour.
MR. DUCKWORTH Prosecuted.
ROBERT BEETON (910 City). On February 6th I was in Liverpool Street about 10.20 p.m,—the prisoner was within a yard of me—he took one step towards the window and struck it a deliberate blow with his fist, smashing it in all directions—I caught hold of him and asked him why he did it—he said, "Why did those fellows want to push me on it for"—he was not pushed—he was drunk—I arrested him—he is a stranger to me—he refused his address, or where he was employed, but said he was a sawyer.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The window was backed up with ledger books, your hands could not get on to the edges of the glass to get cut—the glass was broken through, but none came out.
Prisoner's defence: "This is the first time I have been in prison, and will be the last."
GUILTY .— Two Months' Hard labour.
MR. CRICKETT Prosecuted, MR. DRAKE Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, March 8th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
218. JOHN DONOGHUE** (31) , to stealing a dressing gown, the goods of William Drake, having been convicted at Clerkenwell on April, 1893.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
220. THOMAS PHILIPSON (19) , to stealing a watch and chain, the property of Norman Henry Tubbs, and a watch, the property of Charles Arthur Sharp, having been convicted at New Hall, Northumberland, in December, 1897. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Two other convictions were proved against him.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
221. JOHN DAVID PARKER (21) , to two indictments, for unlawfully obtaining goods from the Army and Navy Auxiliary Co-operative Society by false pretences.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. And
223. JOHN ROSE (32) , Feloniously wounding Elizabeth Russell with intent to do her grievous bodily harm. The prisoner having stated in the hearing of the JURY, that he was guilty of unlawfully wounding, they found that verdict — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
ELIZABETH ROWLANDS . I am the wife of Joseph Rowlands of 38, Clinton Road, Mile End, and am a wardrobe dealer—on February 4th, about ten or eleven p.m., I was at the Little Driver's Arms—the prisoner, who I knew, was there with other men—he said that I was a b—y, copper and clawed me with his hand and tore open my bosom and took my purse and my brooch—I had changed £7 and the change was in my purse—he tried to push me out, and took me by one arm—I said, "You have got my purse"—he made no reply, but went to the other end of the bar—I went out and fetched a policeman and gave him in charge—I suppose he knew where I kept my money, he knew where to find it, and my breast was all scratched.
Cross-examined. There were five or six men with him, I have seen some of them outside this morning—I have known him some time—I did not cut the top of his head open, nor did my husband. (The prisoner exhibited a scar on his head). I have only been married four years—I was not on this evening, drinking with a young woman in one compartment, nor did I leave and go into the compartment where the prisoner was, nor did he say, "You sha'nt pick another quarrel with me"—the landlady never asked me to go out, she said to the prisoner, "If my husband were here you would not say that"—when I came back with the policeman, I found the prisoner where I had left him—he did not say, "You have made a mistake, look on the ground"—that man (Mills) was there and that man (Barns)—I do not remember those two (Roach and Gully)—I do not remember going into another compartment—we did not go out of one compartment and into another where the prisoner was—he told me to go out and I was not willing, I was waiting for my change—there was a scuffle between us, he got hold of me to put me out, and the landlady asked him to be quiet.
By the COURT. It was on the Monday that I received the change for £7, and put it in my bosom—I do not know what became of my brooch.
Re-examined. I was only there a few minutes—I am quite sure my purse was there before I went out for a policeman—he put his hand down my neck.
ISABELLA WEBB . I am the wife of John Charles Webb, the proprietor of this beer-house—on February 4th, about four o'clock, the prisoner and several men were in the bar—the prosecutrix came into the small bar—the prisoner was then in a different bar and she followed him there—I did not notice whether she was alone—she had some mild and bitter, but she went back to the small bar first and there was a scuffle—I asked her to go out and the prisoner opened the door try and get her out, but I did not see him touch her; she came back with a policeman and said that she had; lost her purse and brooch—I only saw the prisoner's hand taking hold of her shoulder to put her out—they were all struggling together—I did not hear her mention the brooch before she went for a constable—I did not
ask the prisoner to turn her out, we always found him a very respectable man.
Cross-examined. I did not notice another woman with her—she spoke rather loud—I asked her to go out, but she did not, and the prisoner pulled the shoulder of her sleeve—her dress was open a little—the men who have been called in were with the prisoner.
By the COURT. My husband bailed the prisoner out.
JOHN COLE (47 KR). On February 4th, I went to the Little Driver's beer-house—Mrs. Rowlands gave the prisoner into my custody for robbing her of a purse and a gold brooch, he was taken to the station and said, "I am not guilty"—nothing was found on him—the prosecutrix was quite sober—she had a mark on the left side of her forehead and her cheek, and her dress was open at the breast—I was about 100 yards from the Little Driver's Arms.
Cross-examined. When she said, "That man has taken my purse," somebody said, more than once, "look on the ground," and the prisoner looked round as well—he was taken to the station and said that he was not guilty.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FREDRICK MILLS . I am a horse clipper, of 29, Albert Street, Mile End—on February 4th, I went to the Little Driver's public-house—I am not exactly a customer, I use it, I go in there for a drink at times—I have known the prisoner four or five years, I was in his company in that house with Ritchie, Burns and Gulley—the first I saw of Mrs. Rowlands was that Horncastle was pushing her out at the door, and he had hold of the door and said, "We don't want you in our company," and pushed her out, but there was a fight first—I did not see her in another compartment, but I heard that she was there—she came into the compartment by herself, when the prisoner pushed her out—she did not say anything that I heard—she came back in three or four minutes with a constable, and her neck all open, which she had not when she went out—she said to the constable, "I accuse this man with assault and robbing me of £13 Is and a brooch;" the prisoner said, "You have made a mistake, if you have lost anything, look on the floor," or something to that effect, she did not make any reply to that, but walked away, and we all sat in the house till it closed—the policeman said, "You will have to come with me," and took him away—if he bad taken the purse from her neck we must certainly have seen it—the bar is email—I was about one yard from him, when she was turned out, and I saw nothing of the kind.
Cross-examined. My attention was first attracted to Mrs. Rowlands when I heard the prisoner say, "We don't want you in our company," and saw Horncastle pushing her out—I had been at the back to the urinal—I saw no struggle before that—I was only out for about two minutes, and after my return she came in—there was no female in the bar when I went out, but there was when I came back—if there had been a slight struggle while I was out, I should not have seen it—Mrs. Webb would have a better opportunity of seeing it, but if she says that the woman's dress was torn at the neck, she is speaking false—I did not hear Mrs. Rowlands make any remark about losing anything—I have known the prisoner four or five years—I was not called at the police-court—I was present when he was arrested—I went to the court, but did not give any
evidence then or on the remand—we have not talked the matter over since—I come here to speak the truth
By the COURT. I went into the house by myself—I left the other mere there when I went out, and I found them there when I came back—I did not say anything to the policeman—the female said, "I give that man in charge," and the prisoner said, "Why you have made a mistake, if you have lost your purse, look on the floor,"—I did not go to the station and tell the inspector, because we thought it was only larks and chaff.
DAVID BURNS . I work for the Mile End Vestry—I have known the prisoner four or five years—I was in the Little Driver's public-house on February 4th, and saw Mrs. Rowlands—I saw her first go into the private bar and another woman with her—there was a quarrel between the prisoner and a man in the public bar, and she came out of the private into the public bar—they challenged one another to fight, and went outside for about two minuites and came back, and the prosecutrix followed them in, she stood among eight or nine men and said to the prisoner, "I don't want nothing to say to you, and I don't want you in my company,"—the proprietress said, "If the governor was here, you would not have come among these men"—the prisoner said "Go out," and caught hold of her by her shoulder and pushed her out: to everybody's surprise she came back four, five, or six minutes afterwards with a constable and said, "I charge this man with taking £13 Is and a gold brooch," she did not mention a parse—the constable said, "Where was your money?"—she said, "In a purse"—the prisoner said "If you have lost your purse look on the floor for it,"—the prisoner was taken to the station.—I went to the police-court next morning, Mr. Dickinson was sitting then and the case was remanded for a week—the next week Mr. Corser was sitting and the case was began afresh—if the prisoner had taken the purse from the woman's neck I must have seen it, and if he had passed it to somebody else I must have seen that too—I have been working for the Vestry five years.
Cross-examined. When Mrs. Rowlands entered the public bar I was in the private bar, there is a looking glass at the back of the bar and I could see everybody come in—after the challenge to fight both the men went out—I do not know whether they fought, I did not go oat—while they were out Mrs. Rowlands came in, she had her back to me and I could not see the front of her dress, but she turned round—I did not speak to the policeman and say, "You are making a mistake"—the arrest did not cause any conversation, because it was so serious—we did not discuss the matter after the prisoner had gone—I saw the prisoner yesterday and the next day, but we did not discuss this matter; the man is innocent.
ROBERT GULLEY . I am a general labourer and have been employed at Messrs. Spencer's packing case manufactory five years—I have known the prisoner 20 years—I was in the public-house on this evening in the large bar—I saw Mrs. Rowlands in the house, she was in the private bar first and then she came into the large bar—there was a quarrel between two men, they went out to fight, but they did not fight, they came back, and this female followed them in and Horncastle said, "We don't want your company," and got hold of her by the shoulder and pushed her out—if he had taken her purse from her at that moment I could not be off seeing it, or if he had handed it to someone else—she came back with a policeman and accused, the man of robbing her and he was locked up.
Cross-examined. I did not say anything when the policeman came in—I heard her say that she had lost her purse, and the man said, "Look upon the ground for it"—she was absent four or five minutes—I was there all the time—I did not accompany Horncastle to the station—I have not given evidence before—I was standing against the partition and quite close—they did not push by me in the struggle, they had no occasion to—there are two small folding doors—all the prisoner did was to put his hand on the back of her shoulder and push her, there was no struggle—I was not watching Mrs. Webb, I was watching what was going on.
ROBERT RITCHIE . I am a gas engineer, of 4, Whatman Road, I have lived there 27 years, working on my own account—I have known the prisoner since he was a baby—I was in the Little Drivers public-house on this evening, I saw Mrs. Rowlands in the next compartment to as—I was in the other side with several friends including the prisoner—a man named Brown came in, and there was a little altercation, they went outside and had a couple of rounds or more, which might take two minutes; when they came in, Mrs. Rowlands came in and used some language I should not like to repeat, and the prisoner said, "You would not take that liberty if the governor was in," and he got her by the collar and put her outside, and she came back with a constable and said, "I will give that man in custody for robbing me of my purse and a brooch."
Cross-examined. Horncastle was not asked to turn her out, he took that liberty—Brown is a casual customer—the fight only lasted two or three minutes—he did not seem in a bad temper when he came back—when he turned her out, he got hold of her collar—when she went out her neck was not disarranged, but it was when she came back—I did not say anything to the policeman when he came, I might have said that I had lost £1,000, if I had been wicked enough—she went out and said, "I will get my own back"—I did not think it was a joke—I know enough of the police not to interfere with them.
DAVID BURNS . (Re-examined). There were 16 or 17 men in the public bar, but I did not known half of them, they were going out and coming in—I cannot say whether any of them went out at the time Mrs. Rowlands was away getting a constable, but it is very probable.
NOT GUILTY .
He PLEADED GUILTY to a common assault.
One Month Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, March 9th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
226. AUGUSTUS COLIN AITKEN (30) , Unlawfully conspiring with Edgar Rodriguez Lavigny, not in custody, to apply to their own use money of the Klondyke Gold Mining Company, Limited, he being a director of the same.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. ELDRIDGE Defended.
The prisoner having stated that he was
GUILTY , the JURY found him
GUILTY— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, March 9th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. CHARLES MATTHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. WALTON Defended.
After the commencement of the case Mr. Walton stated that he had advised the prisoner to
PLEAD GUILTY and the prisoner stated that he was GUILTY, upon which the JURY found him GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, March 10th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. CHARLES MATTHEWS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY and BIRON Prosecuted.
The prisoner being an Italian, and not able to speak English, the evidence was interpreted.
JOHN KASELAN . I was a cattleman on board the "Elstree Grange" cattleship—the prisoner was also a cattleman on board—I was on the lee side of the deck, he was on the weather side—it was rather rough weather—there were 225 cattle on board and a thousand sheep—the prisoner crossed over to my side—I said "Go on your own side, there are only four cattle men there, and there must be five on each side"—he did not go back—I asked him a second time to go back, and go on with his work—he came to me and put his hand in my face—I pushed him away, I don't know whether I pushed him down, I ran away from him and went to the forecastle, the deck was so wet, I could not well stand—I then went back to my place—I did not fall on him—I don't know whether I bit his thumb—I caught hold of him by the coat and told him to go—I did not do anything to him—he stood up and took a knife out of his pocket and came at me—I ran away a second time and went to the forecastle, liked not to fight—when I came back he was lying on the deck—I could not get into the forecastle, the door was shut, I tried to open it, the prisoner came after me with the knife and hit me in the leg, at the back of my thigh—I threw him off, he came at me again and hit me a second time with the knife, over the heart—this is the knife—I then got into the forecastle and afterwards went to the Captain—I did no more work till the ship arrived here—I afterwards saw the doctor.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Before I came over to your side a
companion of yours came over—you said "send him back and I will go too"—you said "let us all five go over and do all the work together.
The prisoner. He shoved me down on the deck and kicked me like a furious animal, he put my hand in his mouth and kept biting my thumb—that made me get up and follow him in order to revenge myself, he knocked me down on the deck again, he was laughing and jeering at me all the time to make me cross—I naturally got my temper up and like a coward he went to hide himself—I followed him, and hit him with the knife—I did not want to kill him, if I had there was nothing to prevent me—I had to go to a doctor to have my thumb attended to.
JOHN MAGHEE . I was fireman on board this ship the "Elstree Grange," she sails under the British flag—I remember February 3rd, when this disturbance took place, we were about Ushant—I saw the prosecutor running up the deck, as I knocked off work, and the prisoner following him—the prosecutor was trying to get through the door but it was shut, and the prisoner following, I did not see a knife but I saw him hit him—the prosecutor was facing the prisoner then—the first blow hit the prosecutor in the left thigh, and then I saw him make another one at his belly—I did not see the knife till he drew it back, it must have shut on him and I saw him make another stab at him on the left breast—I first saw the knife being opened before the last stab—I saw him stab him in the thigh but I did not see the knife—he made a prod but I could not see whether the knife was shut or open, he opened the knife after that—the prisoner tried to go out of the cabin and I took the knife from him—at that time I did not see anything the matter with his thumb—that is the knife I took away from him, I gave it to the Captain—I did not notice the prisoner's thumb at all—he had the knife in his right hand—the prisoner never complained to me that his thumb was hurt—if it had been hurt the Captain or the Chief Steward would have attended to it—when I took hold of him he was quite quiet, I had no difficulty with him.
ALFRED VANSTON (Sergeant R Division). On this ship arriving at Deptford I went on board and took the prisoner into custody—he had both thumbs bandaged up—one had a cut and the other had apparently teeth marks—I think the clean cut was on the left, but I am not sure—I did not tell him what he would be charged with, something was said to him in my presence in Italian, and afterwards I took him into custody—the charge was interpreted to him.
FRANCIS TAYLOR . I am a Divisional Surgeon—I live at 224, Lewisham High Road—I examined the prosecutor on February 5th—I found him suffering from a wound at the back of the left thigh just below the buttock, about 1 inch long and 3/4 inch deep—this knife would cause a wound of the kind—I should say it would be inflicted from behind—there was also a wound on the left breast, inside and a little below the nipple over the region of the heart—the depth was not ascertained and there might have been some danger in putting a probe into it, it could have been caused by this knife—to inflict a wound of that kind a certain degree of violence would have to be used—there was a certain amount of danger, it might have penetrated the chest cavity—I think the knife was stopped by the fifth rib—if it had not been stopped by some hard substance I think it would have penetrated the heart—the
prosecutor has not been under my actual treatment, I dressed the wounds at the time I saw him and he went away, and I think he was two or three days in the Seamen's Hospital—I did not see the prisoner at all.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. The blow in the thigh must have been given from behind.
By the COURT. The wound in the buttock might have been administered when he was in front if he had reached round the man, it could be possible, but from the wound I should think the man was behind the prosecutor.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "There were five of us to feed 100 beasts, 50 on each side—on my side there were three to feed 50 and on the prosecutor's side two to feed the other 50—the morning was very rough, the waves came on my side of the ship, three of us got wet—one of the Germans went to prosecutor's side, he never said anything to him, I also went to prosecutor's side, he said 'Go to your own side'—I said 'send the other man and I will go'—he said 'No, you go'—I said 'The best thing is for us all five to feed the beasts here and then all go on the other side'—the prosecutor struck me—as I was struggling to get him off, we were on the ground, he bit my thumb—when he saw the knife he ran away to the fireman's forecastle, I ran after him four or five steps, I threw myself on the ground from the pain in my thumb, the prosecutor came up and made game of me, and shouting 'you have got it'—in the heat of my temper I ran after him to the fireman's forecastle, and stabbed him twice—as soon as I did it I was very sorry—if I had wanted to kill him I could have killed him there and then—I had all the chance to stab him 10 times instead of twice—I went to the officers of the ship, who dressed my thumb and took me into custody—the knife did not belong to me, I had it lent to me to cut onions, and I had it in my pocket."
The prisoner said: All I wish to say is that having found myself insulted, kicked and knocked about by this man what could I do more than defend myself.
GUILTY of wounding under great provocation — Four Month' Hard Labour.
MR. DAVIES Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
JOSEPH BARBER . I am a hawker, at 198, Westley Street—about five on February 5th I was outside the George public-house—the deceased man came out, and then the prisoner's gang came along—there are generally eight or nine together—it is a stevedore's gang—when they had settled their business they all went into the public-house—I was in the public-house several times between five and seven for change; once to get a drink—Browning pulled his coat off and challenged the prisoner to fight—I did not hear anything which would cause him to do that—I heard him swear at him—they were quarrelling over half-a-quartern of gin—after some time the manager asked the prisoner to go out, and he said he would walk out; he would not be put out—he walked out—two constables came up and advised him to go away, and he went up towards the urinal—I think he was waiting for the foreman (Shannon) to come out—I saw the
deceassed come out—the prisoner walked up to him, and said, "You are the man who has made all the trouble, and got me showed up in this manner," and he struck him on the left temple—he fell on the pavement where there was a place where they turn on the water—a crowd of people came round, and asked who did it, and Read said, "I did it, and I am sorry for it"—two constables came up, and one said, "Don't go away, I might want you"—they tried to get the man to, and a doctor came and they carried him away—the policeman said, "You will have to come along with me," and he (the prisoner) went quite quiet.
Cross-examined. When the two men came out they were chaffing each other—one of them took up a bowl of cockles and began to laugh at it—they went to have a drink together—in the public-house I heard the deceased call the prisoner a b—liar, and he threatened to punch the prisoner's head—a man got between them to separate them—Browning certainly wanted to fight—he said so—that was several minutes before the prisoner went out—I don't know if Shannon was in the public-house then—as a rule they go away together—the George is near the Mill wall Decks—the deceased then left the public-house—the blow was an overarm blow—Browning was the worse for drink—I think he was about six feet high—when Read came out of the public-house he made no fuss—I was looking after one of the costermonger's stalls—he appeared very much upset—I said before the Coroner that Read walked a little way up the road alone, and I saw tears on the side of his face—he did not like having a row with his old friend—afterwards Read said, "I am exceedingly sorry; I did not mean to hurt him."
ALBERT HAINES (196 K). I was outside the George public-house on February 5th—I was on point duty from five till 6.45—I did not see the prisoner ejected from the house—I saw him outside—I advised him to go away and not get into trouble, he was having a discussion with the manager of the public-house—I subsequently saw the deceased come out—the prisoner said "That is the man who has caused the trouble," and with that struck him in the left eye with his fist—the deceased fell on the pavement—there was a hydrant near where he fell—the deceased was insensible and I took him home, and Dr. Macmorran attended him—the prisoner was charged and bailed at the Court because the deceased was too ill to attend—the deceased did not wish to press the charge and he was subsequently discharged.
Cross-examined. He said he was exceedingly sorry he had struck the deceased—I had known the prisoner about seven years, he was always quiet and peaceable—the deceased was employed at the George sometimes to wipe out pewters—the prisoner is a labourer—on Saturday afternoons after the men are paid and have settled up outside the George 200 or 300 men go in there—when the deceased appeared before the Magistrate he said they had worked together for 14 or 15 years and had never quarrelled—he said that the quarrel was over 2 1/2d. worth of gin.
JAMES CRISP (293 K). I was in company with the last witness outside the George on the 5th of last month—I saw the prisoner having an altercation with the manager of the public-house—I went up and advised him to go away, and he went a short distance—he came back
again—Browning came out of the public-house, and the prisoner struck him in the face with his fist—it was a heavy blow from the shoulder, and failed him to the ground—the prisoner fell himself on to the deceased—I picked the prisoner up, and he said, "The man has been on me all the night"—I said, "I shall detain you," and the doctor came and said it was very serious, and I said I should take him to the station, and he went with me—he said, "I am very sorry for what I have done, and what I did; I did it in the impulse of the moment."
Cross-examined. He said the deceased had been getting on to him all the night—it was not a cowardly blow that he struck.
ADAM MACMORRAN . I am Assistant Divisional Surgeon, and live at 41, Glengall Road—I attended the deceased man on February 5th—I saw him about seven—he was lying on the pavement insensible, and bleeding profusely from a wound on the left side of the head—he was almost pulseless—on his recovering a little I asked him where he lived, and found it was only across the road—I superintended his removal there, and washed and dressed his wounds—the left eye was quite closed and rapidly becoming discoloured—there was another small wound on the most prominent part of the back of the head—he also had concussion of the brain—in my opinion he died of compression of the brain, due to a fracture of the skull, dividing an artery on the left side, and to laceration on the right side, and rupture of a vessel on the right side—he died on February 23rd—I subsequently made a post-mortem examination, and found that the wound for which I had treated him had quite healed—I found a fracture extending for about four inches on the left side, running backwards and forwards—afterwards I found a fracture from a point on the top of the head to the ear, and I found it again inside the skull, in the middle fossa at the base—that was probably caused by the fall on the pavement—I found three small clots on the right side of the brain, but no laceration of the brain substance—I found a clot on the left side of the brain, and another on the right side of the brain, between the membranes of the brain and the brain itself—in my opinion the cause of death was compression of the brain from the rupture of arteries.
Cross-examined. I did not attend before the Coroner—I did not hear a man named Shannon examined—the brain was in a diseased condition—there were three clots of blood in the brain substance, and one outside the brain—that would have something to do with the cause of death, I mean that the large clot is what I should call the counter-stroke—that clot might have been caused otherwise than by a fracture—if the brain is in a diseased condition the blood vessels are much more likely to be ruptured—excitement will sometimes cause the blood vessels to rupture—sometimes in a prize-fight the fighting may cause the rupture of a blood vessel—if a man be over 40 years of age and not of temperate habits, excitement by itself will produce profusion of blood on the brain—when I picked the deceased up he had a smell of alcohol—I examined his heart—the liver was normal—the right lung was very much congested—he was a strong, well-built man—in a fight I should think the deceased would be the better man—he was not so fat—the statement I heard Mrs. Browning make was, "My poor husband got up during the night and fell down and struck the bad"—I did not hear her say that he had fallen out of bed.
Re-examined. In my opinion he died from compression of the brain and rupture of the arteries, which was probably the result of falling on the pavement—that is what I suppose—the hydrant is level with the pavement, it is not raised at all—I don't think he could have fractured his skull by falling in the night.
JOSEPH HOLT . I reside at 24, Lannich Street, Poplar—I am a stevedore—I went into the George public-house with the prisoner and the deceased—in the afternoon we had been to a football match—when we went into the public-house Browning said to Read "You own me half a quartern of gin" and Read said "I owe you nothing at all," the deceased kept on getting at the prisoner till the tears ran down his face—the deceased did not take off his coat to fight—he said to the prisoner "If you like to come outside I will be round you like a flash of lightning"—the mud shoot is about 300 yards away, he asked the prisoner to come up to the Form Road—Read was doing all he knew to keep his passion under control, he did not want to have a turn-up with him.
JOHN SHANNON , examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I am the foreman of the gang in which the prisoner and the deceased have worked—their employer is Mr. Multby—they have worked in the same gang for about 16 years—they were always good friends together—the deceased used to be troubled with gout and pains in his head, and during the last 10 or 12 years he has knocked off work about 50 or 60 times on account of those pains—the deceased man and I were in the habit of going home together every night—the deceased was lying on the pavement when I came out—I went up to him to carry him home—I went home with him and stopped with him till be became sensible—he asked me who had done this, and I said "Read who is in the station, shall I go and bail him out," and the deceased saying "Yes," I went and offered bail but the police would not accept it.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and BIRON Prosecuted, and MESSRS. GRAIN and KERSHAW Defended.
RACHAEL CLENOIVICH (Interpreted). I am the wife of Abraham Louis Clenoivich, and live at 116, Commercial Street—the prisoner is my sister—she is 22 years of age—she had been living with us for four years—she helped me in the house-work—we were supporting her—I have six children—my sister slept in the back room on the third floor—three of my children slept in the same room—the front room is a work-shop, no one sleeps there—I did not know that she was in the family way—on Saturday night, January 22nd, when she went to bed she was all right as far as I knew—next morning I went up to her between ten and eleven and found she was not up—she usually got up at seven o'clock—my daughter told me something about her and I sent her up some tea—she stayed in bed during the day—I went upstairs and saw her a little after three o'clock—I said "What is the matter my dear," she made no answer—later on when it was dark ray girl came and told me there was a baby on the pavement and I went upstairs again, and found my sister up and dressed—on the floor in the
room I saw marks of blood, and I asked her what was the matter, she told me that she had her monthly, she told me nothing else and I saw nothing more—she was dressed to go out, she had on a jacket and dress but no hat—I did not hear her go out—I did not see her again till she was in custody—there is a door from the front room in to the passage—I knew that a child had been picked up in the street before she went down, I did not know it when I went up to speak to her, I heard it afterwards—I don't know how long after that my sister had left the house—I did not see her to speak to before she went away.
Cross-examined. When I saw my sister for the last time on that Sunday I knew there was a baby in the street, but I did not know where it came from—I knew my sister was in the house then—when my daughter told me there was a baby in the street—I did not go and see my sister—I was examined before the Coroner—I said then, "A little after three p.m. I went up to see what was the matter—I found her in bed, I asked her what was the matter and she did not answer—I did not think it strange because it always is so with her"—I do not know if the prisoner can speak in English and understand it, we always speak in Yeddish.
FANNY CLENOIVICH . I am the daughter of the last witness—I am 16 years old—I sleep in the same room with the prisoner and the two other children—on January 22nd, I went to bed before the prisoner—I remember getting up and seeing the prisoner in bed—it was nine o'clock when she asked me to bring her a pail of warm water and put some mustard in it—I got it I had to go downstairs for it—I saw my mother then and said something to her—I took a cup of tea up which the prisoner asked for, that was a little later than when I took up the pail of water—I went up again at one o'clock she was still in bed, and again at about three o'clock—she can understand English but she cannot speak very well.
LEAH LIMBERGER . I live at 155, Commercial Street, with my parents—I remember going along Commercial Street on a Sunday afternoon—just as I was passing by Lockhart's shop I saw something coming down from the window and when I got near I saw it was a little baby—I don't know where it came from—I ran away—I saw it come to the ground—I did not tell anybody what I had seen, nobody was walking in front or behind me—it is a long street.
ELIZABETH SPILLER . I am a charwoman—I live at the White Hart at Little Durham Street—I was passing along Commercial Street, on this day, the coffee-shop is next to No. 116—I saw some people there and I went up to see what was the matter, and I saw a new born baby lying on the pavement, it was naked and bleeding from the mouth and head—I saw it move—it tried to cry but could not—I picked it up, wrapped it in my apron and took it to the Commercial Street police-station—there was quite a little crowd when I arrived on the scene.
FRANK OLIVER .—I am a divisional surgeon of 2, Kingsland Road—on January 23rd, I was called to the police-station in Commercial Road, and was there shown an infant child, it was alive, I heard it cry feebly, it appeared to be newly born, I should imagine within an hour, it appeared to have had no skilled attention, the cord had been torn asunder, it was full-timed—the head was somewhat out of shape, the left thigh was broken—I stayed with it till it died, death was caused by a fall from
a window three storeys high—I went with Inspector Taylor to 116 to a back bedroom on the top floor, and after examining that room I went to the top room front, I think the window was then closed, but it appeared to have been disturbed, and there were two blood stains on the floor.
Cross-examined. This was no doubt a first child—I directed the prisoner to be taken to the infirmary, she was ill and distressed—from her condition I came to the conclusion that she should not be then charged—her health was so much affected.
SAHAH SHOLOSKY (Interpreted). On the evening of January 23rd the prisoner came to my house, 35, Pedley Street—she said "I have had a quarrel with my sister and brother-in-law," and asked if she could sleep with me—she did to—I did not notice anything about her, I had not seen her for the last six months, she left next morning at 9.30 and I saw her no more—I am not related to her.
SARAH CLENOIVICH . I am the wife of Reubin Clenoivich, and live at 74, Dalston Lane—I am no relation to the prisoner, I have known her for some time—on January 25tb about mid-day she came to my house—she looked ill—I asked what was the matter with her—she said she had had a misfortune, that something had come from her which she had thrown out of the window, that she did not know what it was—I had heard at that time something about it—I said to her that I heard that a baby had been thrown out of a window—she said, "Do they say it is a baby, I am sure I don't know"—I said, "Did you hear it cry"—she said, "No, I felt so dazed, I was mad"—I asked if her sister was with her—she said, "No, nobody"—I asked her if she had told her sister that she was pregnant—she said, "No, I did not like to tell her."
Cross-examined. She looked very ill.
HERBERT LARDER . I am medical superintendent of Whitechapel Infirmary—on January 25th, about 3.45, the prisoner was brought there—I saw her immediately on her admission—she did not appear to understand what I said, from ignorance of the language—I examined her, and she had been recently confined—she required immediate attention.
Cross-examined. I examined her several times afterwards—she was very weak, and is of a highly nervous temperament, and very likely under the circumstances might be subject to puerperal mania.
Cross-examined. She spoke in English, so that anybody could understand her—I am prepared to swear that she didn't say, "I opened the window and threw it out"—she was not placed in the dock, she sat down in the station—I had read over the charge to her—I should hardly say she was dazed or mumbling; I don't recollect saying she was dazed—she was ill and was taken back by the doctor's directions.
STEPHEN WHITE (Inspector H). I was present at the inquest on February 14th—after the jury had given their verdict, I told the prisoner she would be charged with the wilful murder of a female child by throwing it out of a window—she said, "Yes, I threw the baby out of the window; it was on the Sunday night—I hope they won't kill me."
Cross-examined. I saw her on January 25th at Dalston Lane Station in company with the doctor—she then appeared ill and dazed—the wag in the Infirmary—I did not charge her then: I did at the station—she was mumbling, I could not say dazed—she did not appear to be exactly the tiling—she spoke perfectly plain—she said, "I opened the window and threw the baby out."
GUILTY of the act, but not being responsible at the time.—To be detained in Holloway Prison during Her Majesty's pleasure.
NEW COURT.—Thursday and Friday, March 10th, and 11th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
WILLIAM FORTMAN . I am a sweeper employed by the Corporation of London—on February 11th about 4.30 a.m. I was cleaning Giltspur Street near the Plough public-house and saw Barry standing half-way oat of the telescopic gate—he came towards me and said "Your mate is going ahead over there if you do not make haste you will not catch him"—he walked across towards Cock Lane and gave a sign with his month and I saw Moore come out—my mate and I followed him and went to the police-station and gave information, and came out with Sergeant Smith and saw Barry turn on to Hoi born Viaduct—I followed and as I went across the road he put his hat on one side to disguise himself—I said "You are the man," and gave him in custody—he said "You have made a mistake"—he had a moustache but no beard then—another constable arrested Moore and we all went to the station—I saw Barry standing at the corner of Cock Lane but did not see him go down it—that would taker him to the corner where I saw him—he cross-examined me before the Lord Mayor as to its being a dark place, and on February 6th after the public-houses were closed I went with Sergeant Smith at six o'clock to see about the light—they put out the lights at eleven o'clock on Sundays—Smith had the opportunity of seeing me in the position in which Barry was.
Cross-examined by Barry. You must have gone down Cock Lane—it was four or five minutes after you first spoke to me that I saw you at the corner of Snow Hill—I ran from the church to the station—one way is as near as the other—you would pass me on the other side; my meeting you was quite unexpected—I thought I should have found a policeman at the corner, but I did not, and ran into Snow Hill Station—I must have got there before you got down Cock Lane, and when I came out I saw you in front of me—I never saw you before in my life—I saw you for about a minute—your hands were behind you and you were undoubtedly carrying something, I did not see the jemmy and padlock found, but the spot has been shewn to me—it is near the Cow public-house by St. Bartholomew's Hospital in West Smithfield—to go there you would have to cross Giltspur Street and come back to Cock Lane—I heard the officer say that they were found 20 yards in a different direction—I ran as fast as I could considering I had been at work all night, and you must have
run—I went down Giltspur Street, having you behind me, with your hands behind you, and your face towards me—you walked sideways—you never turned your back, you faced me from the public-house door to Cock Lane—you are the man who spoke to me—you might have followed us down Giltspur Street, and then I should not notice you till I saw you again, when you put your hat on one side—my mate was 20 yards away when I called him, but he came up within a yard of you and I said, "George, just fetch my tobacco box."
Cross-examined by Moore. I did not see you arrested—I saw you turn the corner and cross to the top of Newgate Street.
Re-examined. Barry was about four feet from me when I spoke to him—there was the electric light and gas—he stood under the electric light and when he crossed the road two electric lights were shining upon him—I saw him there a couple of minutes and am sure he is the man—I saw Moore for a minute, he stared me in the face—I am sure he is the man.
By the COURT. Moore had no coat on—I do not know whether Barry had on that red necktie, or whether he had a collar and tie on.
GEORGE POINIER . I am a sweeper employed by the Corporation—I was Fortman's mate on February 11th—he told me something and I saw the door of the Plough open—Barry came to the corner of Cock Lane—I watched him about two minutes, and Moore came out of the Plough. Barry stood with his face towards the Plough—I did not notice his hands—I saw Moore's face for about a second—he came within two yards of me—we pretended to go on with our work and Moore went on, we followed him all the way sweeping, so that he should not notice us—Fortman went to Snow Hill—Moore turned sharp round to Newgate Street, crossed over to the Viaduct and stopped where the steps go down to Farringdon Street—I did not lose sight of Moore from the time he came out of the public-house till the policeman took him.
Cross-examined by Barry. When my mate called me I was about 10 yards from you and I came up facing you looking towards the Plough—I saw you opposite the Plough, watching it—the light was shining on you, you were dressed as you are now, but you were clean shaved and had no collar or tie—when my mate called me I was more towards Newgate Street than St. Bartholomew's, and about 20 yards from him, you were standing opposite, we walked in the middle of the road—I did not see you at the corner of Cock Lane for five minutes, and I did not say so—I did not judge the time you were watching us when we were going after Moore, and I watched you to see if you were coming after us—I have been shown the place where the jemmy was found, that is not in the direction of Cock Lane, it would not take you a minute to put it there, you might have run and been at Cock Lane at the same time as my mate—I never lost sight of you for a moment.
Cross-examined by Moore. I paw you cross the road, I never lost sight of you till the constable took you.
GEORGE JAMES SMITH (City Police Sergeant).—On February 11th Fortman called me from the police-station, Snow Hill, he ran towards Barry, who was on the Viaduct going westward, and said, "That is the man"—I said, "You will have to come with me to the station"—he said, "You have made a mistake"—Fortman had not accused him of
anything—I took him to the station followed by Moore and Knight—I then went to the Plough and saw the steel gate half open—I went back to the station and charged Barry with being concerned with Moore in breaking and entering the Plough public-house—he made no answer, but afterwards he said that he was not guilty, he was an honest wording man. in the market—he gave me a correct address at Hackney, and I went there—it is about three miles from Snow Hill—he said, "I am an honest working man, a porter, and was going to work; I am employed under the lift at the Great Western Railway"—that is under the market at the north end of Giltspur Street—he was walking westward, that is away from Hackney—he was not going towards the market or towards Hackney—he said that he had lived there about four months.
Cross-examined by Barry. You asked me to go to the Great Western Railway—I did so, and made enquiries, and they do not know you—the men start work between one and two—you said that you had gone round to the Electric Railway in King Edward Street with a view of getting work—you were walking away from King Edward Street—you did not say that you had been there to see if you could get a start—you said that you were going on to Chancery Lane—Portman said on his oath that he pointed you out to me, but he did not point—he said, "Here he is" or "There he goes" but I could not see what Portman was seeing—he did not point you out.
By the COURT. I heard Fortman ran into the station and say something—I followed him; he was only there a few seconds.
THOMAS KNIGHT (City Policeman). On February 11th, about 4.30 am, I was on Holborn Viaduct, and Fortman pointed out Moore to me—I said, "Half-a-minute I want you to come with me to the police-station"—he said, "What is up, governor?"—we met Poinier on the way and Moore said, "What is the matter with you?"—he was charged with burglary at the station, and refused his address.
Cross-examined by Moore. I arrested you on the north side of Holborn Viaduct from what Poinier said—I did not see you cross over to the side I arrested you on—I was walking towards you on the south side—you were near the steps, going down.
Cross-examined by Barry. I did not see you when you were arrested; I did not notice.
G. J. SMITH (Re-examined). I believe Barry had a collar and tie on, but not that red muffler—that does not look like the suit he was arrested in—he had no opportunity of having clothes brought, to him at the station.
WILLIAM MILTON . On February 11th I was a constable in the City police—I have since retired—I found this jemmy and brass padlock in West Smithfield, 20 yards from the Plough, and on the same side—I attended at the Plough on Sunday evening, March 6th, after closing hours to examine the state of the lights—I stood on the opposite side, and Fortman stood at the gateway—I could sometimes see him by the electric light, and sometimes it was very dark, the light went down a bit and made a shadow on the gateway—there was a moon.
Cross-examined by Barry. It was eleven o'clock on Sunday night after the houses were closed—the light might be a little different in the evening. to what it would be at four a.m.
JAMES FELTON .—I was formerly manager to Mr. Howie at the Plough—on February 11th I closed the house at 12.30 a.m., and secured the door with a padlock—I locked it and tried it again at one a.m., and it was safe.
BENJAMIN GODSICK .—I am a foreman in the employ of the Great Western Railway, Smithfield Market—I engage the odd men who work at the lift, carrying meat—I know Barry by seeing him in the market, but never employed him—I have seen him several months in the market, standing about and talking—there are two lifts in the market, but only one for the Great Western—I put all the men on myself.
Cross-examined. Some of the men pay other men out of their own pockets every day, and you might have been employed without my knowing it.
Re-examined. They work there from two a.m. to six, according to what they have to do.
The prisoners statements before the Magistrate. Barry says—I am perfectly innocent of this, I was never in Giltspur Street or Cock Lane all that morning, I am an innocent man, I have never been convicted. Moore says—I do not know this man at all, I am innocent of the charge.
Barry's defence: I am perfectly innocent. I have not committed burglary. I have never been charged with it. I am a respectable married man, and have always paid 20s. in the pound. I am not a cur who commits an offence and then comes and asks for mercy.
Moore's defence: I know nothing of the burglary; I was not on the side of the street they say I was. I came straight from over the water.
SERGEANT SMITH (Re-examined). There is another way into the schools from Giltspur Street, but it is not open at that time in the morning; it closes with an iron gate 10 feet high, and is closed every night—I have measured the distances: from the Plough to the public-house is 100 paces, and from the two points where the prisoners were arrested, is 75 paces—there is no brick work above the iron door, but it is so high that no man could climb over it—it is locked by the sexton every night—this vacant space in the map is the private yard of these houses—just at the end of Cock Lane there is a very dark recess where some carts are.
BARRY NOT GUILTY .
MOORE GUILTY . He had been convicted at Clerkenwell of attempting to pick pockets, and had been twice charged and discharged with a caution.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. The Recorder awarded £1 each to Fortman and Pointer.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
JOHN CHARLES GOOD . I am proprietor of Edward Herbert & Co., tea tasters, 21, Fenchurch Street—towards the end of July, 1896, an action was brought against my firm by the prisoner in the Mayor's Court—I had not seen him, but I had made inquiries and resisted the claim—I went into Court, and when the case was called on there was no appearance
by the plaintiff—the case was never reinstated—I had to pay about £40 costs.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I was told that you purposely ran against a box and purposely hart yourself, and your representative came and asked if we would settle the action for £10—you were waiting outside, and two days after the trial your brother came and asked us to pay £1—I employed a detective, and I believe you were medically examined—the doctors said that years ago you had met with a fracture—a report was made to my solicitor. (The doctor's report was here put in, stating that he attended the prisoner on August 10th, 1896, who was walking with a limp and was using a stick, and stated that he had been injured in Fenchurch Street by a big bale falling on him, that he had seen a doctor who said his spleen teas displaced, and that he had been in St. Bartholomew's Hospital, that upon examination he complained of pain on pressure of the abdomen, and that there was an old sear on his right leg, the result of a compound fracture).
JOHN HIBBERT . I am head packer to Frederick Gale and others, warehousemen, of 32, St. Paul's Churchyard—on March 9th or 10th last year, at 5.45 p.m. I was at the bottom of the lift shoot delivering goods—I heard a voice saying, "Why don't you pull your rope in, there is a man fallen over it and gone to the front door"—I went to the counting-house, the prisoner was there, he said that he had fallen over the rope—I took him down and bathed bis arm under the tap and saw nothing the matter with it, and gave him some whiskey—one of my men bound up his arm and he left—he came again next morning and handed me this card, "J. Barry, Well Engineer"—I took him to one of the partners—I afterwards saw him at Guildhall in a cell.
Cross-examined. No one else has fallen over my rope for the last 18 years—my rope had no right to be on the public foot-path—I cannot prove that it was not there—the firm sympathized with you and gave you money—I don't think they made any enquiries—the pavement is 39 ins. wide—it was a wet night and dark—it was about six o'clock, 12 months ago yesterday.
ROBERE MACKIE , I am one of the firm of E. M. Moreland & Co.—on March 10th lost year I saw the prisoner, Mr. Bull was present—he said that he had fallen over the rope the night before, and he felt it very painful all night and went to the doctor—he had his arm bandaged up—he said he was a diver and should be detained at home two or three weeks and he left it to us to say what we would give him—I authorized the cashier to pay him £5 and obtained this receipt from him—(This was in full compensation for all claims).
Cross-examined. Our cashier wrote that out and you signed it as finishing the case—you did not demand money of me but you said you should not be able to do any work for two or three weeks—I am not satisfied that you met with an accident—you came into our warehouse with your hand in a sling, bandaged up by the doctor according to your statement—we believed you and gave you a £5 note—I do not believe your statement now, I could not judge whether you told me any lies.
man gave me some information, and the prisoner called on me and said that he had had an accident and fallen over some covering and hurt his, arm—he had his left arm in a sling—I referred him to our head quarters at Ludgate Hill and on June 28th I saw him there—his arm was still in a sling—he said that he was a professional diver and had been employed on the s.s. "Elbe," and was earning £6 a week—Mr. Jackson said that he did not want to be hard on him and gave me £2 and he signed this receipt in my presence.
Cross-examined. I do not think my manager made any inquiries—he had the porter up—I know that you fell down, but I did not know what you fell over—the cover was not where you ought to have fallen over it.
Re-examined. He did not bathe his arm.
THOMAS HALLET FRY . I am one of the foremen of Jones, Stewart & Co., hosiery warehouse, Wood Street, City—on September 7th I received this letter—" Gentlemen, I write to inform you that as I was passing your premises last evening, I was thrown down by a rope and severely sprained my wrist. I have had to go to the doctor, he tells me I shall not be able to work for a month."—I saw the prisoner on the 9th, he said that no doubt I had received his letter; that he was a diver and going away to the Mediterranean and in consequence of the accident he had been obliged to postpone it and wanted to know whether we were prepared to give him some compensation—I got from him the doctor's name and one or two witnesses—I think I gave them to a gentleman from the Court but he could not find them—I offered the prisoner £1—he said he was not prepared to accept it—I said I would write to the doctor and re-consider the matter—he was going away and I called him back and offered him £1 10s. which he accepted, and I got this receipt from him dated September 9th.
Cross-examined. My man told me that your hand was bruised, and that you had a slight opening in the bruise, and that it was your right hand, but it was your left arm which was in splints—I did not know that till after the matter was settled—I did not say so at the police-court because I only answered the questions put to me—I did not write to the witnesses whose names you had given me because I had settled the matter.
HORACE MICHAEL GASKIN . I am warehouseman to the last witness—about September 6th the prisoner came into our warehouse in a very excited condition, holding his hand in this position, showing a bruise between the forefinger and thumb from which blood was oozing—I asked him what was the matter, he said he had fallen over a rope outside our premises about an hour before—I took him down to the tap and placed it under it—he said something about making a report—I said, any report he had to make he must make to the firm—he pulled out a card, "J. Barry, Diver, North Street"—I am quite sure it was his right hand.
Cross-examined. I am sure it was your right hand because you said that you had injured your best friend, and said, "Look at my right hand,' besides that if it had been the left I could not have poured water over it.
an injury and had fallen over a board and injured his wrist—I think it was the left wrist—he went into the lavatory and held it under the tap—he was there about five minutes and then left—the manager spoke to me next morning, but I did not see the prisoner again.
ERNEST GUNN . I am manager to W. D. and H. O. Wills—on September 16th, I received this letter; "I beg to inform you on passing your premises on Tuesday evening at six o'clock, I was thrown down by a board, I have severely sprained my left arm and wrist and am told by the doctor that I shall be laid up for three weeks or a month and must ask you for some compensation"—the prisoner afterwards came to the warehouse and showed me his left wrist which was bound up—I said, "I will think the matter over and speak to the managing director and communicate with you," and I gave him some tobacco—he said he was a wharfinger in Norway, but that owing to the injury to his hand he was disabled and could not go there—I consulted with my sub-manager—I authorized £2 to be seat to him with this letter—this receipt was afterwards shown me, dated September 20th, and signed James Barry—his manner was very frank and engaging and I thought it best to get rid of the matter.
Friday, March 11th.
JOHN HACKETT . I am porter to Mr. Good who trades as Herbert & Co., tea tasters—on July 11th, 1896, I was unloading a van in front of the premises at about 5.55, and put out a red flag—we were hoisting a box of empty cardboard boxes—the prisoner came rushing by between the door and the box, and he was hurt, and two or three seconds afterwards a friend of his came up and said that he saw it—the prisoner was asked to come to the shop to see where he was hurt—he was sent to the sink—he said he was a diver and should lose his turn—he asked for a drop of brandy, I gave him a drink and left him—I saw that he was hurt on his hip, but not on the lower part of his abdomen—before that he went into a public-house with his friend.
Cross-examined. We were loading these things in the gutter, the jib was level with the pavement—the carman and I were not holding the box, the crane did not swing.
AUGUSTUS MERCER . I am head porter to Stafford Northcote & Co., St. Paul's Churchyard—they have a lift shoot in Carter Lane, I sent out some goods one day in September and the prisoner called at the office and said that he fell over the flap and injured his wrist—I do not remember which wrist it was—he said, "Look at my hand"—the firm instructed me to take him down stairs and bathe his hand under the tap—the firm suggested the tap, but the prisoner had been in the office before I got there—I bound his wrist up with his own handkerchief, and he weal away—after that I was instructed to go to Northfleet and make inquiries and went to 10, South Street, Dover Road, and saw the prisoner—his wrist was bandaged up—I asked if he had been to a doctor—he said "Yes"—I asked him if he could give me the doctor's address—he said that he could not—I said, "Cannot you give me the address of the person who made up the lotion?"—he said, "No, the bottle was broken and thrown away"—he afterwards went with me to the doctor's place near Gravesend
Station—there was a brass plate on the gate, but nobody could recognize the name—I said, "I had better knock"—he said, "Don't knock, because I have not paid the half-crown fee"—we left and had a social glass—I left and, not feeling satisfied, I went down on the Sunday morning and saw the doctor, who made a statement to me—I then went to the prisoner's house and said that I had been to the doctor, and he had no such cape, what was I to do? was I to tell the firm that he had not been to the doctor's?—he said, "Yes, tell them I have been using Elliman's Embrocation—I told the firm what I had found out.
Cross-examined. You were not drunk when I saw you—you did not tell me that you were intoxicated and had forgotten what had happened on the day before.
STAFFORD CHARLES NORTHCOTE . I am one of the firm of Stafford Northcote & Co., warehousemen, St. Paul's Churchyard—on a Saturday in September I received a report from Mercer—the prisoner afterwards called on me and showed me his wrist—it was bound up, he told me what had happened and asked me what I could do for him—I said I would consult with my partner—I asked him what his calling was—he said he was a diver, earning 30s. a week and had not been able to follow his calling—I afterwards instructed my cashier to send him £2 2s.—I believed that a genuine accident had happened—I afterwards got this receipt, dated October 4th—it is in my cashier's writing—at the bottom of it here is, "With thanks, it is too little considering I was laid up for 26 days and had to pay."
Cross-examined. The iron bar was not there to knock anybody down, it was fixed across—it had not been out of its place on the public path, nor did anybody tell me so.
CHARLES ALBERT NORTON . I keep the Three Tons, Cross Street,. Cripplegate—on November 11th I was assisting my brother in the management of the Woolpack and had information that an accident had happened—the prisoner called on me on November 12th, and said that he had met with an accident the day before, and had caught his heel in the pavement light and fell down and hurt his left arm—it was bandaged—he said he was a builder of Gravesend—he said that the doctor said that he could not work for a week, and I paid him 30s.—there was a missing light—I got this receipt which I made out (In full compensation.)
Cross-examined. You did not give me a card—I am sure you said you Worked for a builder.
ROBERT BLACKREE . I am manager at the entering room of Messrs. Newman, Smith & Sons, warehousemen, 45, Newgate Street—the prisoner called early in November and said that he had fallen over something, I think he said a bale outside our premises, and hurt his hand—I think he said his right hand—it was bandaged and he had a splint about an inch wide—he said that he was a diver and had missed his boat, "The Alert," that he was going to some sugar islands to raise a ship—I told him to look in again, I would see die firm, and, if it was the right thing, no doubt they would do something for him, he gave me this envelope with his address—he called again, and on the third or fourth time he called the bandage was off—he said "My hand is better, but it is
still a bit stiff"—I noticed that his fingers were swollen, his wrist seemed all right, he made no point of that—that was about November 11th—he came five times—he was paid about the middle of November—his left hand was not bandaged when he came to me.
RICHARD DARLING . I am one of the Corps of Commissionaires employed by Smith & Newman, at Newgate Street—I was standing just outside the door in November and saw the prisoner—he said that he had fallen over a parcel outside the building, and wished to see the manager—that was after Lord Mayor's Day.
HENRY WALTER NEWMAN . I am one of the firm of Newman, Smith and Newman—I remember the prisoner calling about a fall over a bale of goods—as near as I can guess the first time he called was the first week in November, but he called four or five times—I believed that a genuine accident had happened to him and paid him £3—this is his. receipt paid November 26th—it is in my writing.
Cross-examined. I am sure it was not November 15th or 16th—there was an interval of two or three days before you called.
EDWARD SMITH . I am a clerk to Debenham, Tewson and Farmer, auctioneers—on November 26th, the prisoner called on me and said that on the 25th he was passing the premises' of a firm I was acting for and caught his toe and hurt his left wrist, which was bandaged—I have it the 23rd in this receipt that was my mistake—he said his foot caught in a portion of the pavement light, and he fell down—I did not examine the pavement light—I communicated with the owner, Colonel Birch—the prisoner gave me the names of witnesses, Johnson, I think he said Frank, 70 or 79, Haberdasher Street, New North Road—the other witness's name was James Minton, of Cock Lane—I made these notes at the time a ad gave the addresses to Colonel Birch—the prisoner said he was a seaman diver on board the "Alert," employed by the Neptune Salvage Company, I understood permanently—Colonel Birch authorized me to pay him £2—I got this receipt from him (Undertaking to make no further demand,) that is addressed to one of my fellow clerks.
Cross-examined. I am sure you said the Neptune Company—you did not say the ss. "Alert," of West Hartlepool—I put it down at the time from your own lips.
WILLIAM BURTON BIRCH . I am a retired Colonel—I have been managing a house for my brother—I received a communication from Messrs. Debenham, Tewson and Farmer—I wrote on the back of it to keep the agreement and destroy the letter—I wrote to the references and my letter was returned through the dead letter office—after I had paid the money I asked my brother to send a cheque for £2, and he did so—I received a medical certificate, which has been destroyed.
CLAUD CHURCHILL BIRCH . I am a clerk in the Secretary's Department of the Admiralty—I received a communication from my brother about this accident—I believed a genuine accident had happened to Barry, and sent £2—I destroyed all the papers except the receipt.
AUGUSTUS TOZER . I am the London agent of the Neptune Salvage and Diving Company, 85, Gracechurch Street—I do not know the prisoner—he has never been employed by the company—they have not got a ship called the "Alert."
HENRY CHARLES MIXTERN . I am a scaffolder—I formerly carried on business at 34, Cock Lane—I know the prisoner—I never certified him as having had an accident—I never saw him with his hand bound up—I received a letter from Colonel Birch, and being laid up with the gout I never replied to it—I did not see Barry in the mean time—I afterwards heard that the letter was answered—I did not see the answer—the prisoner Barry was not in the habit of coming to my house.
Cross-examined. A new building was going on next door—the work is not going on still, but there were workmen there up to last month—the only Charles Mintern I know was my father, and he died 25 years ago—I have seen you with a diver.
ELIZABETH HAYWOOD . I am the wife of George Haywood, of 59, Haberdasher Street, Hoxton—a man named Johnson lodged in the house, and left at the end of November—the prisoner has called several times for Johnson.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I am not guilty. I admit everyone of them, they are all bona-fide accidents. There is no fraud. I do not think these receipts are binding, being on one side only."
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that in the whole of the evidence there were only three statements which were not true, the first being that he signed a receipt for injury to his left hand when it was his right which was injured; that in Messrs. Herbert's case the doctor's certificate was obtained by a tricky and that another doctor ought to have been present; that he was still suffering from an injured spleen through that accident. He contended that there were no witnesses to prove that he had not met with that accident; that the heads of each firm came to the conclusion that he had; that a receipt on one side only bound, one party, and, therefore the prosecution had brought the matter up again; and, as the prosecution had not proved that the accident had not happened, he had nothing to answer.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PASMORE Prosecuted.
FREDERICK SPARROW . I am a traveller in the employ of Mr. Ferrier, wool agent, Queen Victoria Street—on February 19th I had two cases outside the door on the kerb—they were safe at 12.30—I saw them again at 2.30 and I identified them by our mark E.S.L.—I do not know the prisoner—he had no authority to sell or dispose of them—they were three feet square—we had lost seven or eight cases generally on Saturdays—I was told that Barrett's was the only place where they could get rid of them and I went there and found them.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. Nobody was looking after them—we have lost cases before but we have never troubled to find out who took them—a man came down and said that you took them for Patsy Russell.
Re-examined. It is the common thing to leave cases outside as empties, to be taken away.
brought two cases to sell—I gave him 2s. 2d. for them and gave him a ticket—Mr. Sparrow came and identified them as having been stolen the same afternoon.
Cross-examined. You have been selling empties for two or three years as a dealer—you brought them on a barrow.
ARTHUR THORP (168 City). On February 21st I saw the prisoner in Aldermanbury—I had received information that the cases had been stolen and saw him standing there—I said I am going to take you into custody for stealing two cases—he said "I did not steal them, Patsy Russell brought them"—he did not tell me where Patsy Russell lived.
Cross-examined. I was not sure it was you—I was in plain clothes—you said wait a minute till I have seen my governor—your governor is your brother—you were standing there with a pony and barrow—I have seen Patsy Russell but we have no evidence—you said that he said he bought them and asked you to put them on your barrow.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on September 19th, 1897, after a previous conviction. The police stated that he had been gaining an honest living for the last six months.— Judgment respited.
MR. WHITE Prosecuted and MR. THOMPSON appeared for Higgins.
WILLIAM FLEMMING . I am a ship's fireman—on February 27th, at 1.30 a.m., I was going along Commercial Street—a woman came up to me and asked me for a penny—I gave her one, and the two prisoners came up to me—O'Rourke struck me on, the mouth and knocked me down—I was sober—he fell on me and Higgins kicked me—there was a third man—they rifled ray pockets, but I cannot say who did it because I was lying on my side—I lost 4s. 6d.—I shouted "Police," and O'Rourke gave me a blow on my mouth as I was rising—I rushed across the street and was stopped by a policeman—he asked me if I had lost anything, and I put my hand in my pocket to make sure.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. I made no resistance, I had not the opportunity—I did not strike O'Rourke, he was silting on my shoulder—it was the not other man who kicked me.
FREDERICK STEVENS (180H). On February 27th about 1.30 a.m. I was on duty in Commercial Street with another constable and saw the two prisoners and another man—they caught hold of a man who had apparently been drinking—they passed on and kept stopping other men in the same way—they went up to the prosecutor and O'Rourke struck him in the face, he fell, and the man not in custody sat on his neck—Higgins was watching—the prosecutor shouted "Police," and Higgins gave him a kick in the ribs—I rushed up, the prosecutor ran in the direction of Whitechapel, and the three men towards Shoreditch—the third man got away—I was in plain clothes—I stopped the prosecutor and said to a constable in uniform, "Stop that man"—lacked him what was the matter—he said, "I don't know whether I have got anything in my pocket," he looked and his
money was gone—he said that he had had 4s. 9d., he had just changed 5s. and had a pint of beer and gave 1d. to a woman, and he had the halfpence in his waistcoat pocket—going to the station Higgins said, "It is the first time I have been in bad company, and it is the first time I have been where I am going now"—I searched Higgins and found no money.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. The prosecutor had no opportunity of striking out in self-defence—it was a dark night but there was a lamp opposite—Higgins has been employed by Scott & Co., of Deptford.
Re-examined. I made enquiries there and saw Mr. Clark, the manager, he said that Higgins had worked for them for some time, he had been away for sometime, and come back again, and that he was a very good workman.
FRANK BEHAVIS (124 H). On February 27th, about 1.30 am., I was with Stevens in Commercial Road, and saw the two prisoners and a man not in custody at the corner of Commercial Street—they stopped four or five men who were apparently drunk—the prosecutor was talking to a woman, and they knocked him down—he was about to shout, and Higgins kicked him—I arrested Higgins—the prosecutor got up and ran away—I shouted to a uniform man to stop him—he asked him if he had lost anything—he felt in his pocket and said, "I have lost 4s. 9d"—his pocket was turned out—Higgins said, "I did not assault him, one good thing for me, I have not got 1d. on me."
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. Higgins might have had a glass, but he was perfectly sober.
The prisoner's statements before the Magistrate. Higgins says, "It is the first time I have ever been in a place like this. I only hit the man once, and went right away and was caught." O'Rourke says, "I did not strike the man, I sat on him."
Higgins received a good character.
O'Rourke then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on October 19th, 1896, having then been before convicted of robbery, and several other convictions were proved against him. HIGGINS— Six Months' Hard Labour. O'ROURKE— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour, and 20 strokes with the cat.
MR. WOODCOCK Prosecuted.
WILLIAM NOTTING . I live at 122, Forest Lane, Dalston, and am an engineer at the Enterprise Works, Bowling Green Lane—on January 13th I left business at a few minutes past six, and the prisoner rushed at me and took my watch and part of my chain—I am sure he is the man—I saw his face under the light of the lamp—I had seen him before in the neighbourhood as he robbed me of a gold chain at the beginning of July about four o'clock—I said August before the Magistrate, but I wish to correct it—it was on a Friday in the middle of the month—my watch was worth £'20—I afterwards picked the prisoner out from six or seven other men.
JOHN GROVER . I am employed at 1A, Bowling Green Lane—on January 13th I left business at 5.55 and noticed the prisoner standing at the corner—I afterwards picked him out at the police-court from six or seven others.
Cross-examined. I had never seen you in that neighbourhood before to my knowledge.
HENRY FINCHER . I live at 18 1/2, Douglas Place, and am employed in Underhay's brass foundry—on January 13th, about six o'clock, I was by the Green Lion and saw the prisoner come down Bowling Green Lane and take the prosecutor's watch and run away—I saw a piece of the chain on the ground and picked it up—this is it (Produced)—I did not know the prisoner before, but am quite sure he is the man—two or three men called "Stop thief!"
JOHN ROBINSON (G). I first heard of this case on January 13th and saw Fincher on the 14th—he informed me that he had a piece of watch chain—I was present on February 22nd, when the prisoner was placed with several others and picked out by the witnesses—he was not indicated to them in any way, he said, "I can prove where I was."
Cross-examined. I saw you once before that but was not near enough to arrest you—you were with four others in Farringdon Road—they asked me for a drink and I gave them a shilling—they were Barton, Taylor, Croonin, and another, that was after the robbery—I knew you by sight before and by name—you were sentenced in July—you had two months for assaulting the police and two months for assaulting a private person—the date was July 16th, it is printed in the "Police Information."
Prisoner's defence: If there was a call of "Stop thief," would not the policeman have taken up the chase.
— GUILTY .
Mr. WOODCOCK prosecuted.
HARRY RICHARDS (279 G). On February 12th, about 11.30 p.m., I was in Exmouth Street—a private person came to me and said that he had been assaulted by the prisoners, who were present and denied it, and used very bad language—Curran struck me in the mouth with his fist and said, "Why did you let me go"—I had advised him to go away—I then took him into custody—I was surrounded by a large crowd and Barton kicked me on my leg—I struggled with the prisoners, Curran snatched my whistle from me and I lost my helmet—I was holding Curran when Barton kicked me—while taking Curran to the station he kicked violently and tried to bite me, but 109 and 460 G came up, and we took his shoes off, and took him to the station—Mr. Pollard assisted us—I used my truncheon in the crowd before we took his shoes off—and Curran was struck on his head accidentally, and fell down.
Cross-examined by Barton. You kicked my right leg.
Cross-examined by Curran. You were not all over blood when you came up to me—I did not hit you two or three times with my truncheon going along the street and say that was only getting back a bit of your own—your nose bled when you fell, but the blood did not come from the top of your head.
Re-examined. We had considerable trouble to get them to the station—there were about eight of them, and for about 10 minutes I had no one to help me.
messenger—on February 11th I was in Exmouth Street and saw a private individual making a charge to Richards that he was being molested by the two prisoners—he did not give the prisoners into custody, Richards persuaded them to go away, and they went, and in two or three minutes I beard another commotion, and saw Richards on the ground holding Curran, and Barton and others striking Richards—I arrested Barton, and after a struggle I got him down—several constables fell over me—I saw nothing of any savage conduct on the part of the police, but they were placed in a difficulty.
ALFRED ROBERTSON (460 G). On February 12th, about 11.30 p.m., I Was called to Exmouth Street, and saw Richards struggling with Curran—eight or 10 men were trying to rescue him—I assisted in getting him off, and the crowd got round me—Curran was very violent, striking in all directions, he kicked me on my right leg.
Cross-examined by Barton. I did not see you spit up blood but I saw blood on your face.
CORNELIUS ROSS (109 G). On February 12th, about 11.30 p.m., I was on duty at the top of Exmouth Street—I heard a whistle and saw Richards on the ground holding Curran, and Barton attempting to rescue him—Barton behaved very violently and kicked, and we had great trouble to take him, but he went quietly to the station—Curran was very violent indeed.
Cross-examined by Curran. I caught hold of your throat.
Curran's defence: "I was more ill-treated than they were, I got a punch on the nose which was the cause of it all."
—CURRAN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour on each indictment, to run concurrently.
BARTON— Six Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, March 9th, 10th and 11th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
239. EDWIN THOMAS KESSELL (25) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for forging and uttering requests for the delivery of a ring, a watch and a brooch, with intent to defraud, having been convicted of obtaining goods by false pretences in October, 1897.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
240. THOMAS WALTER BAKER (60) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Stanley and stealing a clock and £1 12s., also to an assault on the said Henry Stanley occasioning him actual bodily harm. — [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Judgment Respited. And
(241) MORRIS ALEXANDER (40) , to unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences from William John Pyke and others, and incurring debts by fraud.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Judgment Respited.
242. RICHARD BINNEY SMITH (), Having been entrusted by Charles William Kayser with £4,447 8s. 6d. with directions in writing to apply the proceeds of such security to a certain purpose, converting to his own use £882 10s., part of the same.
MR. AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. C. F. GILL Defended.
Kayser is assistant managing director—at Easter, 1897, I became acquainted with Mr. Pearson at the Palace Hotel, Buxton—I was led to believe he was A partner because he gave me a card of R. B. Smith & Company, Throgmorton Avenue as his business card—on October 18th I wrote to Pearson, addressing the letter to that address, with an order to buy £5,000 Midland Preferred Railway Stock, and stating that my brother might want £2,000 more for himself—I got this telegram signed "Pearson" in reply, stating that he had bought £5,000 Midland at 881/4 and that Market Trusts he could sell at 23 and 9 fully paid—that was followed by this letter of October 19th from Pearson enclosing contracts for £5,000 Midland 2 1/2 per cent. Preferred Stock and £2,000 for my brother Julius—on October 21st I wrote Pearson this letter addressed in the same way directing him to place £5,000 in the name of Charles William Kayser and £2,000 in the name of Julius Kayser, and to sell for me £5,000 West Australian Joint Stock Trust and Finance Company, Limited, at £2 7/8—I sent back the contracts for a clerical error to be corrected, and they were returned in this letter of October 21st which contained this contract for £5,000 Midland Preferred Stock signed "R. B. Smith & Co"—I also received this letter of October 22nd, enclosing a contract for the sale of 1,000 shares in West Australians from Pearson—both col tracts are for settlement on October 28th—on 23rd I wrote this letter, enclosing two certificates for 500 shares each in West Australians, giving the numbers and registering the letter—I received this letter of October 25th acknowledging receipt and stating, "As there may be some difficulty in being able to deliver thpse shares for a few days I shall esteem it a personal favour if you will oblige us with a cheque or cheques for the enclosed statements"—the statements shewed that £4,447 8s. 6d. was due from me for Midland Stock—the letter also stated: "We will forward cheque for West Australian Joint Stocks immediately we get them through"—on October 26th, Pearson wrote me, with transfers of West Australians to fill up, which I executed and returned, and on 27th sent him this cheque in this letter, which was registered, and which states: "Dear Mr. Pearson,—Your two letters of 25th and 26th to hand. I enclose cheque for the £5,000 Midland Prefs., and expect my brother will send you cheque from Eastbourne for his £2,000. Please have the account discharged and returned to me, so that it can be passed into firm's books. Re West Australian Joint Stock Trust and Finance, I enclose the two transfers duly executed. Send me the cheque to here when you receive the money"—I enclosed the transfers duly executed, and this cheque for £4,447 8s. 6d., which is made payable to "R. B. Smith & Co., or Order"—it is endorsed "R. B. Smith & Co.," and has been paid by my bankers—some difficulty arose about the transfer of the West Australians, in consequence of which the transfer of 500 had to be postponed to November—they had no official quotation—the transfer of the other 500 was in October—correspondence passed between us about it—Pearson, on October 28th, acknowledged the receipt of my cheque and the transfers—after October 29th I received transfers of Midland Stock—as there had been delay, I said that in future I would only pay against transfers—on November 8th Pearson wrote enclosing stocks on the firm's account in both names, and stating that he had just completed
the delivery of the £5,000 and £2,000—receipts came in various oddments, and, being busy, it slipped my notice that we had only £6,000 Stock instead of £7,000—when I noticed that the Stock did not all come to hand, I wrote demanding it—on November 20th I received this letter, signed "R. B. Smith and Co.," stating that Mr. Pearson was absent from illness, and on 29th another stating that he was still unwell—on December 1st I wrote to the firm thanking them for their letter of 29th, and hoping Mr. Pearson was getting better again, and asking for a cheque for the 1,000 West Joints—I got the reply on December 3rd, signed "R. B. Smith and Co.," stating that Mr. Pearson was still away—I then wrote this letter of December 6th, (Stating that he had written to Mr. Pearson at his private residence, he had received no reply) I was still under the impression that Mr. Pearson was a partner—on the 7th I received this letter from Mr. Pearson, stating that he would explain the matter—on the 9th I wrote to him at his private address, and afterwards put the matter into the hands of my solicitor—I never got more than 4,000 out of my 5,000 Midland Stock—I never realized one penny from the West Australian Stock—the amount is £3,682—I have had notice that the defendant has become bankrupt.
Cross-examined. I have proved in the bankruptcy—I saw Mr. Pearson with my solicitor—Mr. Pearson did say something to the effect that he would pay me whatever I did not get from Smith and Company—I wrote to Pearson at his private address because I understood he was ill—I wrote to him about other matters as well—when I saw Pearson in December he told me he was not a partner—when we met at Buxton in April we became very good friends—his wife and my wife were there and we agreed that we should visit at Sheffield—I applied for a warrant for the arrest of Mr. Smith—I did not know he had filed his petition—in November I learnt that Mr. Pearson was away from business—that was about the time he was to pay us a visit.
Cross-examined. I only wrote to Mr. Pearson at his private residence on this business when I heard that he was ill—before that I wrote to him at the office—I always understood him to be a partner, because of previous transactions he signed as a partner—he has not paid me anything.
GEORGE PEARSON . Last year I was engaged, not as a clerk to the defendant, but on half commission—I had been there nearly four years—I was not paid any salary last year—I have proved in his bankruptcy for £34 or £35 as salary at £3 a week to the end of 1896—I was also entitled to a commission in addition to a salary of £3 a week—it was intended I should leave at the end 1896—I did not leave but came to an arrangement of receiving one-half commission on business introduced—I met Mr. Kayser, at Easter 1897, at Buxton—I received at the office, 10, Throgm'orton Avenue, a letter from him, of October 18th, 1897, requesting me to buy £5,000 Midland Stock—I also received subsequent letters relating to this business at the office—these are the letters produced, which are bound up in these books (Produced)—the replies were copied in the letter-book in the office—I cannot say that all my letters are copied, I have not looked to see—I had no authority to sign in the name of the firm except "per pro."—any cheque received would be placed on the defendant's desk for him to endorse—he banked at Parr's—he was the
only partner—I was not an authorized clerk at that time, he was the only person who could do business on the Stock Exchange—on October 19th the defendant bought on the Stock Exchange £5,000 Midland Preferred Stock, in accordance with instructions contained in a letter from Mr. Kayser—on receipt of a letter I put the particulars on a slip of paper and the defendant would know that it was from a client—I cannot say that the defendant saw the correspondence, which was entirely with myself, but the letter was left on my desk and it was afterwards pasted into the book—I sent a telegram on October 19th "Bought 5,000 Midland Preference at 38 J"—I should get the particulars from one of clerks—the letter of October 25th is one I wrote to Mr. Kayser from the office, it is copied in the book—(Acknowledging certificates for the West Australian Joint Stock and asking for a cheque for £4,447 to pay for the Midland Stock,)—that was on my own instructions—letters were addressed to me c/o "R. B. Smith and Co."—I received the letter of October 28th enclosing the cheque for £4,447 and the two transfers of West Australian Joint Stock Trust—I placed the cheque on the desk—the endorsement is in the defendant's writing—it appears to have been through the bank—it is the defendant's signature on the bought note—he kept the cash book himself—in it I find an entry of the receipt of £4,447 in the defendant's writing—the Stock was bought on October 28th—the Stocks are not always delivered at the time—I did not know the Stock was not taken up till about the end of November—I then spoke to the defendant about it—he said he would take it up the next account—it was not taken up the next account—I know that from the books—I believe it was in the January account after Mr. Kayser's solicitors had been to the office—in December I was at home, suffering from muscular rheumatism—I there received Mr. Kayser's letter of December 9th, [Expressing annoyance that the witness allowed his firm to delay taking up the Stock,]—the letter of December 8th from Smith and Company to Mr. Kayser, stating I was coming on a visit and would explain the matter, is written by a clerk—I believe I wired a reply to Mr. Kayser's letter of December 9th, and did not go to the office for several days—I did not explain to Mr. Kayser—when I went back to the office I enquired why the matter had not been carried through—I was at the office on December 7th, 9th and 11th—I may not have been there on the 8th—this contract for Midland Stock is signed by the defendant.
Cross-examined. I got J per cent, commission, but they were not all my clients—in this case the correspondence was between me and Mr. Kayser—I mentioned the matter to Mr. Smith—I had my own desk—a press copy was kept of telegrams—I knew the defendant had arranged to take up Stock, and had passed the ticket for it, and that between the time of the passing of the ticket and the Stock being presented for payment the Sheriffs came in and seized the money that was in the office—I saw Mr. Kayser's solicitor and said I would endeavour to prevent his loss—I deposited securities for him, which were retained for a time and returned to me—the defendant's business has been established about 50 years.
Re-examined. I said I would endeavour to find out the state of things because I had introduced Mr. Kayser to Messrs. Smith and Co.—I do not
know what my securities were worth—they were principally raining shares—I never passed, nor intended to pass, as a member of the firm—I never told Mr. Kayser anything—I handed him my card with my name, and the name of the firm beneath it.
FREDERICK HOOPER GILES . I was the defendant's clerk—referring to this book produced, I find £4,000, and not £5,000, of Midland Stock was taken up on October 1st account for Mr. Kayser—referring to the black book I find £1,000 was carried over in account with Roscoe and Besley, the jobbers, to January from account to account, and not taken up, as shown by the jobbers ledger—which also shows the purchase from Besley's of £5,000 for Mr. Kayser—if it was not carried over by the client's sanction it would not necessarily appear in the Box account—if Mr. Kayser had given instructions for it to be carried over, it would appear in his account,. and not in the Box account—I cannot explain how it got into the Box account—it might be that it was carried over without instructions—the entries in the Box account represent the holding over of £1,000, which the firm is not prepared to pay—the West Australian Joint Stock was sold on October 21st to Gledsteins and Co.—£500 was paid on October 30th—and the rest on November 20th—the total was £2,872 16s. 8d.
Cross-examined. When the ticket passed the broker would be liable to the jobber—I have the entry that the ticket was passed—there was sufficient cash in the office to pay it—the defendant had been in litigation and the Sheriff seized all money and cheques in the office which put a stop to the business—there had been six or seven clerks—Pearson received and answered his letters.
Re-examined. As I said at the police-court, the ticket must be taken up or the broker be hammered—it is no use passing the ticket unless you have the money to take up the stock.
JOHN BROUGHTON KNIGHT . I am a clerk in the office of the Official Receiver in Bankruptcy—I produce file of proceedings in the defendant's bankruptcy—the petition is dated January 24th, 1898—the adjudication is the same day—from the papers it appears that on January 30th execution was levied at his office upon a judgment in the High Court for £2,000 on an account—I produced the letter books at the police-court—they have since passed to the trustees.
F. H. GILES, re-examined. The West Australians were clearing stocks—the account and name would be sent to the Clearing House, and the certificates and transfers retained by the jobbers till the money was paid.
MR. GILL submitted that the transfers were not securities for the payment of money contemplated by Section 75 of 24 and 25 Vic. c. 96; and that the directions bring given in letters to Mr. Pearson there was no case against the defendant. The COURT overruled the objection.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
243. ROBERT CLIBURN (23) , Feloniously receiving from Charles George Disk £10 on account of helping him to recover certain goods stolen and not having used due diligence to bring the offender to justice. Second Count.— With being with William Allen an accessory after the fact in stealing the said goods.
MESSRS. C. MATTHEWS and HEWITT Prosecuted, and MR. SYMONDS Defended.
CHARLES GEORGE COTSFORD . I live at 115, St. George's Rood, S.W.—on December 19th, 1896, I was robbed by a man named Harry Saunders of a fur-lined overcoat, a diamond and turquoise pin, a gun-metal watch and gold chain, and some money—I immediately placed the matter in the hands of the police and the following day I received a visit from a police inspector—on December 23rd I received a visit from a man now known to me as William Allen—an appointment was made outside the Underground Railway Station At Charing Cross on the Embankment side for that same evening where he was to give back to me certain duplicates which related to my property and I was to pay him—the property included a fur-lined coat and a card case which contained my name and address—I did not notice that any one was waiting outside my house—I kept the appointment that evening taking with me Mr. Gregory, an actor—I went down Villiers Street and through the station on to the Embankment and near to the stair-case leading up to Hungerford Bridge—I there saw Allen—he appeared to be Alone—there was some bargaining between as and eventually I agreed to pay him £10 which I did—having previously left him and spoken to Mr. Gregory—Allen handed me the duplicates and the card case which still contained some of my cards—I then went away to find Mr. Gregory but missed him—the next I heard was that a man named Marling had been taken into custody—I attended at the Westminster police-court and gave my evidence and identified my property which Was produced by a pawnbroker—shortly afterwards I became acquainted with the arrest of Saunders, and again attended at the police-court and gave evidence—both Marling and Saunders were committed for trial, and I attended here in March last year—they were convicted and sentenced to terms of penal servitude (Sec Vol. 125 p. 383)—I next heard of Allen's arrest, and I attended his prosecution—he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to a term of imprisonment—at my instance a warrant was issued for the prisoner's apprehension about April 23rd, 1897—I was unable to attend.
Cross-examined. I was standing further from the bridge than Mr. Gregory was, and had to go nearer the bridge to speak to him—I did not see anybody else with Allen—I was very nervous at the time, and there was a great deal of haggling, and I think I got him down to £5—I think I have said £5—it may have been £10—of course, my recollection was better then, because it is over a year ago; I cannot be certain—it was in gold—I had the money with me.
WILLIAM EDWARD GRKGORY . I am an actor, and a friend of Mr. Dick—on December 23rd, 1896, in consequence of a request from him I accompanied him in the evening towards the Thames Embankment, going down to the Underground Station at Charing Cross through Villires Street—we went through the station and on to the Embankment where I left Mr. Dick for a short time—he afterwards came and spoke to me and then went back to see Allen—I saw them in conversation—Mr. Dick afterwards left the man and I went another way for the purpose of meeting him, but missed him, bat I saw him the same night at my own house and had a conversation with him.
Cross-examined. I kept Mr. Dick in observation—I was near enough to see him—I think 40 yards is rather an exaggeration of the distance—to the best of my memory he left me twice.
Re-examined. My back was turned towards Mr. Dick during the conversation part of the time.
WILLIAM ALLEN . I am a prisoner undergoing a sentence of 18 months' hard labour, which was passed upon me in September last for the share which I took in the restitution of these pawntickets to the prosecutor on the night of December 23rd, 1896—I pleaded guilty in May—I have known the prisoner between five and six years—he has gone under other names than Cliburn—one name was Harris—I knew him in the Spring of 1895, when the case of Lord Queensberry was tried, Mr. Oscar Wilde being the prosecutor—during that trial I left London in company with the prisoner, whom I knew intimately from that time until December, 1896—I saw him almost daily—I knew where he was living in the Fulham Road—I was then living at Severhurst Road, Clapham Junction—on the evening of December 21st, 1896, I was in Vigo Street, Piccadilly, with the prisoner—we met Marling and the two brothers, Bob and Dick Woollams—we all went into a public-house at the corner of Vigo Street and Sackville Street—there Marling proposed a drink, and there was conversation between us—the prisoner took part in it—Marling asked me to go and see Mr. Dick in reference to some pawntickets which he showed me, with a view to selling them to Mr. Dick—I saw that the tickets referred to a watch and chain and a fur coat, or else a pin—there were three tickets, but one I did not get till afterwards—Marling's name was on them—he said he pawned the articles for a man named Saunders—I did not know Saunders at that time—he called him Cloggy—I said I did not care to have anything to do with it—that was in the street going to the public-house—but afterwards, when Marling asked me to have a drink, he said he had heard I was hard-up, and that it would be a way to get myself a little money—I eventually arranged to go—he said if I did not choose to go he would soon get someone else—he said if I did not choose to go he would take the tickets to Mr. Barnard Abrahams, of 22, Great Marlborough Street, and no doubt he would get some money for them—I do not know that Marling mentioned the street—at the time I was very hard up, and I said to Marling I felt very desperate and would do anything to get money, and that is why I arranged to go—he said Saunders had another pawnticket and also a visiting card—he said he would see Saunders and make an appointment for him to give me the ticket and the visiting card—before I left him an appointment was made to see Marling the next day, who was living in Castle Street, East, at the back of the Princess' Theatre—I agreed with Allen to keep the appointment, and we went our own different ways—I went with the prisoner—the appointment was for twelve o'clock the next day—I met the prisoner the next morning at the Queen's Head at the end of Burlington Arcade between one and two p.m.—we walked along Regent Street towards Marlines Place in Castle Street, East—when we got there Marling was out—later that same afternoon we met him—Marling asked me why I
had not kept the appointment—I said that I had been to his place but that I was late and found him out—he said he had an appointment with Saunders at the Cambrian in Glasshouse Street, and he was going to meet him about 6.30 or seven p.m.—he asked me to accompany him, and I did so with the prisoner and Marling—we waited some time at the Cambrian before Saunders and his brother-in-law, Robert Hine, turned up—I have never seen Saunders before—Marling knew him—a conversation took place which the prisoner heard—Marling told Saunders I was the man that would go and see Mr. Dick—then there was some talk as to how much I should ask Mr. Dick for the tickets, and it was arranged I should ask for £10—Saunders said he had forgotten to bring the pawn tickets and visiting card with him, so he sent his brother-in-law who went and got them, Saunders, Marling and the prisoner remaining in the porch of the Cambrian—we afterwards went and had a drink in the Cambrian and talked about the visit to Mr. Dick, and it was arranged that the money should be divided between Marling, Saunders, and myself equally, and that I was to go to Mr. Dick the next-morning—Marling then gave me 12 pawntickets which he had before shewn me—I then went to keep the appointment, leaving the prisoner and Saunders in the bar having made an appointment to go to Saunders" place at twelve o'clock after seeing Mr. Dick—the brother-in-law was away three-quarters of an hour when he brought the other pawnticket and the visiting card and gave them to Saunders—they were in a pocket book—Saunders handed them to me and we left and walked towards Leicester Square where we parted with Hine and Saunders—I went to the Empire Theatre with the prisoner we talked about the tickets—I said I thought I should ask him for £20 and perhaps I might get £10—I was then in the prisoner's debt about £5—we arranged to meet at Victoria Station at 8.30 or nine on December 23rd—the next morning I came from Clapham Junction to Victoria and walked towards Ebury Bridge where I met the prisoner who got down from an omnibus—we went to 115, St. George's Road—I got the address from the visiting card which Saunders gave me—he stopped at the corner of the block while I went on to 115 and saw Mr. Dick—I think in the dining-room we had a conversation and made an appointment for seven that evening outside the Underground Station at Charing Cross—I then left the house and rejoined the prisoner—I made a circuit and came round behind him and beckoned to him when he joined me and I told him the result of my interview with Mr. Dick—I told him of the appointment and that I would pay him part of the money I owed him if I got £10 from Mr. Dick—we then took a 'bus from Victoria to Bond Street and walked to Great Marlborough Street—the prisoner left me to go into Mr. Bernard Abrahams' office—I know the office very, well—I have been there often—I know Mr. Abrahams—the prisoner said, "I am going to get Abrahams to advance me a little money to get over Christmas"—I remained outside till he rejoined me—I believe Mr. Abrahams was out—the prisoner was away from me only a short time before he rejoined me—we then weak to Marling, in Castle Street East—we saw Marling and Saunders, and Bob Woollams, and told them of the arrangement with Mr. Dick and the hour of the appointment—these men had no occupation—I knew how
they got their living—we arranged to meet at the Cambrian, in Glass-house Street, a little before seven—we all met there—we went up the staircase on to Hungerford Bridge—I left the four on the bridge when I went down to where I could see up Villiers Street—I saw Mr. Dick coming down Villiers Street with someone, and I went back to the others on the bridge, and told them I did not care about the look of the thing—I said I thought he was a detective—the prisoner and Bob Woollams came down to see who was with Mr. Dick—after some little time they returned up the staircase and I went down to meet them—they said, "That is Gregory, the actor, who is with him"—I said, "Oh, I don't care for him, I'll go down and see Mr. Dick"—then I went down the staircase to where Mr. Dick was standing—he spoke to me and we walked away together—Mr. Gregory was then standing on the steps at the station about 25 yards from where I was with Mr. Dick—after a short conversation with Mr. Dick I left him for a short time and then returned to him—during that interval Bob Woollams and the prisoner said while I was speaking to Mr. Dick, someone, who Woollams said he was pretty sure was a detective, came and looked hard at both of us, meaning at both me and Mr. Dick, and that they bad a good mind to come and tell me to clear off—then they left me and I returned to Mr. Dick—I gave him the pawntickets and card-case and he gave me £10 in gold—when Mr. Dick left me I joined the prisoner and Woollams, who were on the Embankment within my sight—Marling and Saunders then came up to us—they were on the bridge and the five of us went to a little public-house off the Strand—we walked round by the Hotel Cecil—it is in a passage leading to the Strand—drinks were called for, and there was a division of the £10 which I had received from Mr. Dick—I paid for the drinks out of one sovereign and divided the remainder between Marling, Saunders and myself—we each had £3 and some odd shillings, and the remaining 2s. went in drinks—the prisoner drank—Saunders suggested that we should give Woollams and the prisoner some two or three shillings as they we understood not to have any money at the time—we gave them 2s. each—that kind of division is customary provided our friends are hard up whenever we were successful in getting anything—the sum depended upon what we got by blackmailing—we got money by blackmailing—all those I have spoken of £ot money in that way—I never knew them do anything else—I include the prisoner—that had been going on for some years—these men belong to one section of Blackmailers—I knew Coulton, Andrew Grant, and Albert Edward Thorpe as getting their living in that way—we were all one gang—that was another section—we left the little public-house talking about what had occurred—we walked as far as the Telegraph Office at Charing Cross, where the prisoner and I left the other three—we got on to an omnibus where I gave the prisoner part of the money I owed him—I think it was 25s. or 30s.—that was out of the money I received from Mr. Dick—in January, 1897, the prisoner told me that Marling had been arrested—he came to my rooms in the Severhurst Road on a Tuesday morning—the day after Marling was before the Magistrate—I was in bed—the prisoner asked me if I had heard the news—I asked him "what news"—he said "Marling is pinched"—I told him Mr. Dick had said he had been to the police—he
said "They have taken Marling"—Mr. Dick did tell me that he had been to the police—the prisoner said "McCarthy has got him"—I knew McCarthy as a police inspector—he said he had been arrested at the New Inn on the Sunday night—that is a place frequented by blackmailers—then I said I thought it was time for me to clear off and said "I suppose they will want me next"—he said he was of the same opinion—then I said I was going to clear off—I got up and dressed myself—I had a lot of papers and things connected with what I had been doing, blackmailing men—I asked him if he would take care of them for me as I was going to leave my rooms in case the police came there to look for me and I handed them over to him—I have never seen them since—I left the house in his company and we went to Wandsworth Road station—on the way we arranged that I should be known as "Edge"—that is a name which is generally used when you make yourself scarce—I said I should go to Birmingham, and that he was to write to me at the post-office there—he went with me to the station and saw me in the train, and I went to Birmingham—I called at the post-office there and got letters from the prisoner, addressed to me in the name of "Edge"—he wrote me two or three times a week—I destroyed the letters—in that correspondence I learnt of the arrest of Saunders—I afterwards heard of the fate of Saunders and Marling—I went from Birmingham to Kilsby, near Rugby—I replied to the prisoner's letters at Kilsby—I was arrested by the superintendent of police at Daventry on April 2nd, 1897—McCarthy was communicated with, and on April 3rd I was brought up by McCarthy to Gerrard Road, and afterwards taken before a Magistrate at Westminster, and committed for trial here on April 8th—between my committal and the trial I was confined at Holloway—the prisoner came there to see me—I found a letter awaiting me at the prison saying he would come—I wrote him from Daventry after my arrest, and I had sent to him from Gerrard Road to come and see me—when he cime he seemed annoyed—he said his name was mentioned and that the police had been to his place—he said his name was in the papers—he said he had been to see a solicitor—Mr. Bernard Abrahams—and that both he and Abrahams were of opinion that it was best for me to keep out of the way—he did not say he was not going to do anything of the kind exactly, but I judged that he meant to clear off—he then owed me about £7, the balance having turned the other way—he said he would send the money to my wife—I was committed for trial, and tried on May 5th—after having heard the opening statement I pleaded guilty, and remained for sentence till September—after I had pleaded guilty I saw McCarthy in Newgate, in consequence of my applying to the warder, and I made a voluntary statement, which McCarthy reduced to writing—I was put back for that purpose—I afterwards made another voluntary statement on May 15th at Holloway, which was also reduced to writing, and at Pentonville I made a third statement to Mr. Wallis in McCarthy's presence, which was taken down by Mr. Wallis, a solicitor—at Holloway I also saw a man, whom I did not know, who was discharged from this Court, and who promised to come and see me, and he came twice—I also, saw Mr. Holloway—Mr. Abraham's chief clerk—that was after I had pleaded guilty—I had seen Mr. Holloway when before the Magistrate—
he came to see me once when I did not send for him—he came twice—Mr. Overend defended me—he was instructed by Mr. Abrahams—I did not provide funds for my defence—my wife had nothing to provide funds with.
Cross-examined. I never heard that the £7 Cliburn owed to me was paid to my wife for my defence—I saw Mr. Wallis at Holloway once and three times at Pentonville in reference to my making a statement in this case—I pleaded guilty in May and was not sentenced till September—I do not know why—Marling's and Saunders' sentences were five years, mine was eighteen months—on account of my making statements, I suppose, his Lordship told me he would take it into consideration if I assisted the police—I was endeavouring to screen the prisoner and Mr. Abrahams when McCarthy came and said I was not the only person making a statement, and that he had been to Chelmsford—I was reluctant to do anything about it—I made a statement incriminating the prisoner—I knew Mr. Dick had been blackmailed—I did not consider it blackmailing, selling pawntickets—I thought it would be to his advantage—I did not consider the prisoner was risking his liberty—I do not know why he went with me to Mr. Dick, except it was to get part of the money I owed him—if he had not gone I would probably have paid him the next day—I am not a convict—I am undergoing eighteen months' hard labour—I did not tell the prisoner to clear out—I did not think that was necessary—I have destroyed the letters the prisoner wrote me—I do not recollect writing asking him why he did not come to see me, nor writing "Why have you deserted me?"—I wrote to him from police-station at Daventry—it did not occur to me that was entrapping him—I did not think it would do any harm—I am sure Mr. Dick gave me £10—he did not haggle me down to £5—I first asked him for £20—I said I told Mr. Dick that Saunders thought he ought to give me £20,. but I think I suggested £10—both Saunders and Marling said, "It is all right, it is Gregory, the actor"—we were standing together and the prisoner must have heard the conversation in the public-house at the corner of Sackville Street—I said at the police-court, "I will not swear that he heard all that passed, he may be deaf, and all sorts of things"—I do not know whether he said anything, he was standing there all the time—I daresay he said something, but I cannot recollect any sentence—I did not hear him say he would not have anything to do with the matter—he did not stand aside during the conversation—he was not to reap any advantage.
Re-examined. I saw Mr. Wallis—he was accompanied at Holloway by Inspector Downs and at Pentonville by Inspector McCarthy, and the third occasion was in the presence of the principal warder—since my sentence in September last I have been in Pentonville—between my plea and sentence I was at Holloway—I have not had an opportunity of seeing or speaking to Saunders since his conviction, except that I saw him pass my cell here, but not to speak to—no communication has passed between us since the date of his conviction, and now I did want to screen the prisoner—I had known him a long time; that was my chief reason—I did not want to say anything about Mr. Bernard Abrahams, I had known him nine years—I had visited his office—I should say he must have known my calling.
HARRY SAUNDERS . I am undergoing a sentence of five years penal servitude for robbery from the person of Mr. Dick, on the evening of December 19th, 1896, of a scarf pin, watch and chain, a fur-lined coat containing a card case and visiting cards, and a small sum of money—I was then living at 16, Lyons Place, Edgware Road—I left the property at that address on that Saturday night—the next morning I was walking with my family when I met Arthur Marling who came out of the New Inn—I told my wife to walk on and Marling spoke to me—I only knew him once before—in the result he told me to meet him at Castle Street East next morning—I kept that appointment with my brother-in-law—I took the property there and had a conversation with Marling—I handed him the property at his place—I then went away to get something to eat, after that I returned to Marling's—I afterwards went by omnibus with my brother-in-law to Victoria—we went into a public-house where Marling left us, taking away the jewellery—he rejoined us a short time afterwards and handed me the proceeds of pawning the jewellery and the ticket for the watch and chain and scarf pin and I handed him the money for pawning them—he took me into another public-house—he afterwards brought me the proceeds of pawning the coat and the ticket and he had his share of that—a man Bob Woollams whom Marling kept was waiting for him at the public-house I was going to tear the tickets up but Marling said, "You needn't do that, you may as well give me the tickets"—I said "No"—but he said "Don't do that," and I gave him two, and he said if I would bring him the card and the other ticket by to-morrow night, he would give me £2 for that and the card-case with the cards—then he told me to meet him at the Glasshouse public-house, Regent Street—then I left him and Bob Woollams—I did not trouble about the appointment, but I was. walking up Regent Street by accident when I met Cliburn, Allen,. Marling, and Bob Woollams—my brother-in-law was still with me—Marling asked me whether I had got the ticket—I said, "No, let it drop, I do not want to have anything more to do with it"—he said, "I brought the fellows up to buy the ticket"—and he took—me, Cliburn, Woollams and Allen to this public-house—Marling asked me to go home and fetch them, as I had left them at home—we had some conversation—the prisoner was present—I had only known Marling by speaking to him once—the prisoner and Allen said, "Why don't you go and get it, you may as well have £2 as chuck the tickets away and waste them"—I then asked if they had the £2 to give me then—they said, "No"—I said, "Do you think I am going to run home to benefit you?"—then they asked my brother-in-law, to ask, Hine, and we went into the public-house and had a lot of conversation and some drink—I did not know all they were saying—I did not trouble to listen—the prisoner was there all the time—my brother-in-law was away more than half an hour—he said he could not find them, the children had trodden them about—after an interval Hine returned with the ticket and the card-case and cards, which were given to Allen—they had been trodden on and damaged—Allen turned to Cliburn and Woollams and said quietly," These will fetch us a £50 note"—then Cliburn and Allen said "You can meet us here tomorrow night"—Allen was the actual spokesman—they told me to
meet them the next night about seven o'clock—all of them said that—Allen spoke first—I then left the public-house with my brother-in-law—I was at work the next day on my father's building—I did not tell my father what had happened—I told him I wanted to get away and I left the building at Hammersmith about six p.m.—I was late for the appointment, I got there about seven p.m—the others had gone and left Woollams in the public-house—Woollams took me straight to Charing Cross and up on to the bridge where I found Cliburn and Marling on the top and Allen just coming up the stairs—Allen came up and said, "This is rather strange, I believe there are detectives down there"—the prisoner and Allen said to Woollams, "Why did not you take him where we told you?"—Cliburn said, "I will go down and see," and he went down down—before five minutes he returned and said, "It is all right"—Allen said, "There he comes, there is somebody else with him"—and he came out of the station—the prisoner said, "It is Gregory the actor"—Allen called the prisoner, Marling, and Woollams on one side and said something I did not hear—Allen said, "Now we will go down," and he and the prisoner went down—I heard Allen say to the prisoner, "Now get across the road, you know what you have got to do"—in about five minutes Marling left the bridge—Woollams left me on the bridge saying, "Wait till we come back"—Woollams followed soon afterwards—leaving me alone up there—I looked down over the bridge, I saw one of the others cross the road—Allen ran down the steps in the middle space on the Embankment to come through the station, and I ran right round through the station, when I saw a gentleman leave them, who I did not recognize—I went through the station and joined them—they turned to the left by the Savoy Hotel, and near the Hotel Cecil they went into a corner public-house in a courtway—Allen paid for some drink—Marling, the prisoner, Woollams and myself being present—then there was a division of the money, and I had a few shillings for my trouble—then I could neither read nor write, but I have learnt in prison—I do not know whether I had £3 or £2 and a few shillings for my trouble, which I handed over to Woollams—I think I had two or three half-sovereigns—when I gave my statement to McCarthy the first time I thought it was £2 or £3, but I cannot swear which it was—I think it was £2, and a few odd shillings which I handed to Woollams for his trouble in getting the money—I saw money handed to the prisoner—then we left the public-house and went to the Charing Cross Post-Office together, Allen and the prisoner saying to Marling and Woollams, "Don't you forget to meet us to-night for that bit of business we have got to do"—Allen and Cliburn went one way, and Marling said, "We are going that way; I will come with you," and he walked with me and I met my brother at the top of Regent Street—I heard of Marling's arrest when Woollams came to me at my work several times and wanted me to leave my job so as to be safe, but I would not—I wanted to keep close to my wife and children—I was sentenced 12 months ago the eighth of this month—a short time afterwards I was in Great Marlboro' Street, about dinner-time and met the prisoner by accident opposite a solicitor's—I don't know his name—he stopped me and said, "Why don't you clear out of it?" and he said I should
get them all into trouble—I told him I was not going to clear out because I wanted to keep close to my wife and children—I did not go away—I remained in London till about February 10th—upon that evening I was in the Devonshire Arms in the billiard room—the prisoner was there—I had been there once before—after I was in about two minutes McCarthy arrested me, and I was taken to the police-station, and afterwards brought before a Magistrate, and committed for trial, and with Marling tried at this Court and sentenced—the first three weeks after my sentence I was at Wormwood Scrubbs, then I was taken to Chelmsford, where I was seen by Mr. Wallis, the solicitor, McCarthy being present, and I told them all I knew about this—from there I was taken to Portland and then sent to Bostal, near Rochester, and from there to Pentonville, where I made another statement to Mr. Wallis and Mr. McCarthy—I repeated what I had raid before—it was a true statement—I have been at work all my life—I am a first-class bricklayer—I am 24 years of age—I was working at Hammersmith for my father when they wanted to meet me—I was guilty of robbing Mr. Dick with my brother-in-law, out it was without violence—I knew nothing of these men till I saw Woollams about the tickets—I had also been working for Holdon, Sons and Davis—I was not connected with blackmailers—it was put on my shoulders, and I was sentenced, and this is the first time I was ever locked up, where I have suffered as well as my wife, and I have lost a child—I remember being in a public-house in Castle Street East, near the theatre, when Marling and Allen were there—I did not see the prisoner there—but I saw him when an I.O.U. was discussed which Allen showed to Marling.
Cross-examined. In March, 1897, I was sentenced to five years' penal servitude—the imprisonment has told much upon me—I have said it seems years to me—I give evidence because I wish to speak the truth—McCarthy gave evidence and said I went to Mr. Dick with the tickets—I did not know it was blackmailing—I did not know what these men were doing—I said at the police-court, "by what I could see of it it was black-mailing"—the prisoner was supposed to have hundreds of pounds—I did not know what the tickets were worth—the Governor at the Chelmsford gaol said that McCarthy was coming to see me, he did not say why—I did not know what it was for—Allen asked me for the tickets and Cliburn backed him up—I said, "Chuck it up, let it drop" before the tickets were, fetched—Cliburn did not say to me "I can get you a £50 note"—Marling and Allen asked me first to go for the tickets—I do not know the Cambrian—I sold the tickets to these men for £2—there was no question of my sharing what was got—there was no arrangement that I was to have one-third, Marling a third, and Allen a third—I should know what was to be got if I was in it, but I was not—I did not give Cliburn anything—I did not put in my statement "I am not going away, I am going to keep close to my wife and children" because I had not much time, but I was going to tell them at Pentonville—Cliburn said I should get them all into trouble—I did not say that in my statement to Mr. Wallis—I was examined before the Magistrate and my statement was read over—I signed it as correct—I do not think I mentioned about what was said in Marlborough Street—I
said that the prisoner said "Why don't you shift out of it, or else you will get 'pinched'—by Woollams coming to my work morning after morning I knew he had been sent by these men—I did not know the man who was with Mr. Dick on the Embankment—I heard the prisoner say it was Gregory the actor—at the police-court I did not say it was Whitley—I am making my statement because I was sentenced and this was put on my shoulders when I knew nothing about it and not with the object of reducing my sentence.
GEORGE FARR . I am chief warder at H.M. Prison, Pentonville—I received William Allen in custody in September last—he has remained there ever since except when he was taken before the Magistrate—Saunders came to Pentonville on January 17th—the Governor gave special instructions to me that there should be no possible meeting between Allen and Saunders—those instructions were fulfilled when the prisoners went to the Westminster police-court on January 19th to give evidence, and on their transit both ways special care was taken to prevent them communicating—those precautions have been continued to the present time.
Cross-examined. I cannot say that precautions are evaded—the use of tobacco is against the rules—it is very rare to trace it to a prisoner—it did not occur in this case—there was no communication in this case—it was impossible—they may communicate by rapping in their cells, but not in this case, and not in chapel—it is possible by movement of lips in chapel—I do not know how it is done—there is a prisoner's code, but not in this case.
Re examined. The prisoners were in different halls of the prison—they went to chapel.
ALFRED VINCE . I am serjeant jailer at Westminster police court—I was on duty on January 19th, when Allen and Saunders were received for the purpose of giving evidence—warders were stationed near the cells where they were confined, and every precaution was taken to prevent their communicating.
Cross-examined. They were in different cells—the cells arc brick and in two rows—it is impossible for any one to see through them when properly closed—they Mere not far apart.
Re-examined. It was on that account that warders were placed there.
WALTER LAWLOR . I am assistant to Mr. Sutton, pawnbroker, of 156, Victoria Street—I know Marling—on December 21st, 1896, he pledged a watch, a gold albert chain and diamond turquoise pin and a fur-lined coat—when he first called I did not think the coat worth the money and he took it away—I advanced £3 on the jewellery and on the pin a sovereign—the watch was only metal—he returned with the coat and accepted the first offer, 35s.—I have seen Marling and the prisoner who visited the shop but mostly Marling—he bought and pledged.
Cross-examined. I cannot swear that I have seen Marling and the prisoner together—I have not to my knowledge.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Inspector B.) I arrested Marling on Sunday night January 10th, and Saunders on February 10th, 1897, at the Devonshire Arms New Inn, Edgware Road—I arrested Allen on April 3rd, 1897, at Daventry—Allen made statements to me subsequent to his plea—I know
the ground referred to well—I know the Cambrian public-house at the corner of Vigo Street and Sackville Street—anyone standing in the perch of the Cambrian can be seen from Regent Street—there is a public-house at the corner of the Burlington Arcade called the Queen's Head—a man coming down Villiers Street can be seen from the Charing Cross District Railway booking office—there is a staircase on to Hungerford Bridge from which you can see the Embankment—the Cleopatra or Prince Albert public-house is near the Hotel Cecil—these are the positions described in the statements—this warrant was issued for the prisoner's arrest on April 23rd, 1897, from Westminster police-court—I tried all means to execute it and failed—I knew where he had been living, and went there, but he had gone—at the same time, and upon the same information, a warrant was issued for Bob Woollams' arrest—that warrant remains unexecuted—I made enquiries where he had lived, and could not find him—I found out that Marling had been living at 57, Great Castle Street, East—I searched those rooms and found in a box the photograph of Cliburn, and one of Allen, which I have not kept—when Saunders was arrested, Cliburn was playing at billiards—a man named Dornbach was also there—I found this photograph of Cliburn on Allen—Saunders also made statements in my hearing subsequent to his conviction—in consequence of a communication from the Essex police I went to Wanstead and found the prisoner detained by a policeman in our division—he knew me—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest—I read it to him and to make it more explanatory I said that it was for conspiracy in relation to some pawntickets of some property which had been stolen from Mr. Dick, of St. George's Road, by Saunders and Allen, and pledged by Marling, and that the tickets were sold to Mr. Dick for £5 by Allen, who was under going 18 months' hard labour; that he was present when these persons divided the proceeds, well knowing that the money had been received for the pawntickets for property which had been stolen; and that witnesses would be called to prove that he was on Hungerford Bridge that night—he replied, "I am perfectly innocent of the charge; I never saw the pawntickets nor the property referred to; it will be hard if I am punished for being in others company; I can almost prove an alibi by yourself, for if you remember, on the night referred to, I gave you a cigar on a 'bus in the King's Road"—that did occur one night about 9.30, I do not remember when, but it was just before Christmas—I saw the prisoner when Marling was before the Magistrate in January, 1897, at the corner of Rochester Row and Vauxhall Bridge Road, about 60 yards from Westminster Palace Court, which is in Rochester Row—that was on the first remand on the 11th to January 18th, Marling having been arrested on 10th—I" bid him good-day—he said, "How is Marling getting on?"—I told him he was remanded for a week—I have never seen Marling and the prisoner together.
Cross-examined. I had known Marling about four years—when I arrested the prisoner Marling, Saunders had been convicted and Allen had pleaded guilty—I believe the sum mentioned was £5—before his arrest I had last seen the prisoner on January 18th at Rochester Row.
in Chigwell Road—I told him I should arrest him for conspiracy and blackmailing at Chelsea—he said, "I thought you were going to ask me to lend you a few shillings"—I took him to the station at Wanstead—going there he said, "If I had known you were after me, neither you nor any of the other tricky b—s would have had me. I tell you straight if I once got away you would never find me. I know who is at the instigation of this. It is all through being mixed up with that lot that is doing time"—when searched I found these three telegrams upon him. [Mr. Valentine Corry, an official from the General Post Office produced the originals which were addressed to Cliburn, 4, Heinault Villas, Heinault Road, Chigwell, of November 29th, 1897, "Call to-morrow Beaufort Lodge nine—Abrahams."—of December 1st, 1897, "Have wired you one Chigwell Road, Bernard" and December 22nd, "Wired you £10, Bernard."
BERNARD ABRAHAMS (Examined by the COURT at his own request): I am a solicitor of the High Court, and a Member of the Incorporated Law Society, and have been for some years—I carry on the business at 22,. Great Marl borough Street, which had been carried on by my father and grandfather for the last 100 years, 60 years by my grandfather, and 40 years by my father in Lincoln's-Inn Fields—not having the privilege of being examined by Counsel, the first point is the question of this money payment to the prisoner—I sent the telegrams produced by my clerk on my instructions—the first one is addressed to the prisoner's wife, and not to the prisoner—I have lived at Beaufort Lodge, Regent's Park, for seven years since my marriage—it is a private house—[Mr. Symonds objected to the evidence with regard to the money telegram on the ground of privilege.]—my relations with the prisoner were not that of solicitor and client—I have acted as solicitor for the prisoner, and I was trustee in respect of money paid through me to the prisoner at the request of the payer—[The objection was overruled, and Mr. Symonds objected on the ground of relevancy, which objection was overruled]—a sum of £100 a year was paid through me by another solicitor, Mr. Wallis, late partner of Mr. Arthur Newton, and Mr. Wallis being the prosecuting solicitor in this case, this money was paid to me at the request of the gentleman who was paying it, who is my client—this payment has been paid to the prisoner for the last four or five years through me—I received from the gentleman a small fee for the payment of this annuity to the prisoner quarterly—it was a guinea a quarter—this £10 referred to in the telegram was sent to the prisoner in respect of his quarterly allowance of £25, the rest having been paid in advance—the prisoner invariably wanted his money in advance and I used to advance it—his wife had called on me and I sent to Heinault Villas, a cottage where the prisoner was employed as a market gardener—to the best of my memory he has lived there five or six months—I did not know a warrant was out for his apprehension, on the contrary the prisoner was calling daily in the neighbourhood of Marlborough Street police-court between April and January—not upon me—it had nothing to do with me—I knew it and others had seen him daily outside Marl-borough Street police-court; as a fact he called upon my neighbour Mr. Newton upon one occasion—I have seen him going in and out of the Court and several times standing outside between last
April and his arrest—he has called upon me four or five occasions with regard to making him a small advance of a sovereign or two sovereigns, when he was hard-up, upon his quarterly allowance—he and his wife were engaged growing flowers, doing their best to live respectably, sometimes selling eggs, fruit and flowers—he had been a barrister's clerk and I believe he was once employed in the General Post Office—Allen (whose real name is Pea) stated he was with the prisoner when the prisoner called at my office on December 23rd, the day of the interview with Mr. Dick—that is a lie, and I have my call book to prove it (produced)—neither the prisoner nor Allen called—a few days before Christmas I was at my office all day long, and no one connected with the prisoner called—he says he called and I was out—I also produce my cash book, which shows the entry of the £25 and my charge—I place these books at the disposal of counsel, provided they do not divulge my fees—Allen says he has known me about nine years—I was first consulted by a gentleman I do not name (it could not be dragged out of me) in a divorce case, with regard to Allen being an undesirable witness—I never represented Allen, nor appeared for him, nor had I been connected with him in any form, except protecting a client of mine successfully against Allen's giving evidence—he was then a footman, and I knew him through a gentleman assisting him through me, and he called at my office from time to time when I paid him, not an annuity like the prisoner's, but money at the request of my client; perhaps four or five times during seven years—I have his receipts and the correspondence relating to it—when Allen was arrested Cliburn called upon me with his own wife, and said that he owed Allen a little money, and he desired to instruct counsel for him, and I paid their fees, £2 2s. and £1 1s., and received £5 5s, to enable me to get a copy of the depositions and instruct counsel—as I had not time my clerk, who had charge of the case, saw him—I afterwards heard Allen had pleaded guilty—the prisoner has been trying for some time past to get respectable employment.
(Mr. MATHEWS proposed to cross-examine the witness on the ground that his evidence would not be complete without the test of cross-examination. The COMMON SERJEANT, after argument, having consulted Mr. JUSTICE; GRANTHAM and the RECORDER ruled that cross-examination was inadmissable, but permitted Mr. MATHEWS to ask certain questions):—The sum I received from the prisoner to defend Allen would not appear in my cash book, which contains entries of monies received on behalf of myself or my clients and, therefore, that sum would not arise—when I advanced to the prisoner I deducted it—referring to my cash book I find on April 2nd, 1897, I received from the gentleman, Mr. Wallis's late partner, £25; from my call book I find my clerk, Mr. Holloway, saw the prisoner on April 3rd—the payment of the annuity to the prisoner would be the following day—I find the entry on April 3rd in my call book, "Mr. R. Harris, twelve o'clock, E. C. H."—that entry is made by the junior office boy—it would be twelve o'clock when the prisoner called—he was known to me as Harris and as Cliburn—the money was sent by post to Cliburn—he called whenever he was hard up—that was very often—I did not see him very often—I did not have any caller named Grant, or Thorpe, I think he was a client of Mr. Wallis, so was Allen.
He then PLEADED GUILTY*† to a conviction of felony at Lewes in December, 1890, in the name of Robert Henry Harris.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, March 11th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
ADA ELIZA NORRIS . I am nonliving at 84, Gainsford Street, Kentish Town—the prisoner is my husband—on Saturday night, February 12th about twelve o'clock he and I were supping together at our house in Lady Margaret Road—about a quarter past twelve I left him, and went up to bed—he is a solicitor in practice for himself—he had offices in town, and was "there during the day—they were in Gray's Inn Place, Gray's Inn Square—we have been married nearly nine years—I had one boy, aged six—when I went to bed, I read a little and then went to sleep—about 1.30 I was aroused by a bang of firearms which awoke me—I turned round, and saw my husband with a pistol in his hand, on the other side of the boy's cot—I jumped out of bed and took it away from him, I was frightened, I ran down stairs and into the street, with nothing on but my night clothes—I screamed, and a policeman came—I spoke to him and Mr. Clifford, our next neighbour, came out and took me into his house—I noticed some blood on my night dress which had come from my head behind my left ear—Doctor Beaton came to see me, and I have been under his care since—I was taken to my sister's house—she lives in the same road—I don't think my husband had his coat on when I saw him in the room—he had not been in bed.
Cross-examined. We were married in 1889—the prisoner at that time was carrying on business as a solicitor with his father—it was a large business—his father died five years ago last October—he was killed in an accident on the railway—since then my husband carried on the business alone—he had 12 or 13 clerks—he had worked very hard all that time—he was in the habit of staying at his office until seven or eight in the evening and bringing work home—we have always lived on very affectionate terms—our child was born in 1891—he was asleep in his cot at the time this happened—we had never had any quarrel—there had been no difference at all between us on this day—we were on the most affectionate terms until the time of my going to sleep—my husband was very much interested in a society for the saving of life at sea—he was a member of it, and himself held the Royal Society's medal for saving life—on this Saturday evening we had taken seats for the theatre, and he took me there—it was at the Prince of Wales's—there was nothing in the performance at all exciting or dramatic—our child's cot was by the side of the bed—when I got up my husband was standing at the foot of the cot—that would put him about three yards from me—the moment I jumped up I saw the pistol in his hand, and I took it from
him—there was no struggle—I merely took it out of his hand and ran downstairs—there was only one shot—I have now quite recovered, my husband has been out on bail, and I have been with him every day, and all day—I am staying at my sister's and he has been with me the most part of the day—I think he has gone to his office—my sister is a widow—my husband has complained to me from time to time of not being able to deep for a long time—he has also complained of having very bad dreams and he has often said that he did not know which were dreams and which were waking thoughts—he could not distinguish between them—he has gone under the clothes and said that he could not distinguish between them—that has been the case before this happened—I have not gone with him for a change anywhere—he has been a strict teetotaler all his life—I have known him for fifteen years and I know he has been a teetotaler all his life—he has never taken any drink.
Re-examined. He had attended to business on this Saturday, as far as I know—he had been to the office—he has never had a proper holiday—he never spent more than two days away—he was always going backwards and forwards to his business.
ABRAHAM COLBARN (167 G). On Sunday morning, February 13th, I was on duty from about two to 2.10 in Lady Margaret's Road. I heard screams coming from down the road—I went in that direction, and I saw Mrs. Norris—she was in her nightdress, screaming in the road—she had this revolver in her hand—she gave it to me and made a statement—I took her into No. 93, Mr. Clifford's—I didn't notice the state her nightdress was in—Mr. Clifford accompanied me into No. 95, and we proceeded to a room on the second floor—the door was locked—I tried to open it, and said, "Will you open the door?"—the reply was, "Go away"—I said, What is the cause of this disturbance?—will you open the door?"—the reply was, "I cannot; I have cut my throat"—I then forced open the door, and saw the prisoner lying on the floor bleeding profusely and in a pool of blood—a bloody razor was lying on the table—I took possession of it, and produce it—this is the revolver which Mrs. Norris gave to me—the pool of blood was caused by two cuts in Mr. Norris' throat—I called a cabman who was passing, and sent for a doctor—Dr. Wilson came, and by his advice I took the prisoner to the Great Northern Hospital—the revolver was loaded with six cartridges—two had been discharged—I searched the prisoner at the hospital, and found on him a box of cartridges which corresponded with those in the revolver—I handed the revolver over to Inspector Tomkins.
Cross-examined. I first went into the front room of the house, and fetched out the boy, and then went to the door upstairs—Mr. Clifford fetched the boy into his own house—I was nearer to the upstairs door than Mr. Clifford.
HENRY MARCH CLIFFORD . I am an actor, and live at 93, Lady Margaret's Road—on the early morning of February 13th I heard screams from next door, No. 95—they were screams of a female—I immediately dressed myself and went downstairs—I saw Mrs. Norris standing in the street in her nightdress—the constable was there with her—I saw blood on the shoulder of her nightdress—I took her into my house—I then accompanied the constable
into No. 95—I went upstairs with him—in consequence of Mrs. Norris calling for her boy I went in and fetched him out of his cot to quiet her—after placing him in her care I returned with the constable to the first, floor of No. 95—I tried the handle of the door—it was fastened—the constable knocked at the door and asked the cause of the disturbance—the reply was "go away I've shot my wife or hope so"—I then went to the prisoner's sister some doors down the road—the only words I heard were "go away, I've shot my wife or hope so."
Cross-examined. The house to which I took Mrs. Norris was the prisoner's sister's—I had retired to bed about twelve—I was aroused by the screams between two or half-past—I think I tried the door before the constable—I should think he could hear the words used as well as I—I did not hear the prisoner say, when asked to open the door, "I cant; I've cut my throat"—I entered the house twice, first to get the boy out—I took him to his mother, and returned—the constable remained in the house—I had not then found where the prisoner was—the boy's cot was at the side of the bed in the front room—I realize the difference between what I heard and what the constable has said—I believed that the prisoner had shot his wife, from having seen her in the street.
ROBERT MILNE BEATON , M.R.C.S., B.M., Master of Surgery. I reside at 7, Dartmouth Park Road—on Sunday, February 13th, about 3.30, I was called to 93, Lady Margaret Road—I there found Mrs. Norris lying on a couch—I noticed some blood on her nightdress, and a small wound behind her ear—after a little while I took her to the prisoner's sister's house and dressed the wound—I afterwards saw her about eleven and made an examination of her—I came to the conclusion that there was a bullet in the wound behind the ear, and on Monday afternoon I extracted it—it was in about half an inch deep, and was such a wound as might be caused by a bullet from this revolver—it was lodged in the hard bony substance behind the ear—I think I can safely say that she is now out of danger.
Cross-examined. The wound is almost healed now—I have known Mr. and Mrs. Norris about 12 years—I have attended them professionally—I'm able to say that they have lived together on most affectionate terms—I know it from my own observations—I have attended Mr. Norris professionally—I don't remember being consulted about his want of sleep—my partner has visited at the house—I did not attend to the wound in the throat—I merely called as a friend of the family, and to tell his mother how he was—I saw him several times after as a friend—on the Sunday I found him in a wild irrational condition—he was also in that condition on the Monday—that was not a delirium resulting from the wound—overwork does tend to unhinge a man's mind, especially if accompanied by want of sleep—it is almost always so—when I find a person living on affectionate terms with his wife commit such a deadly act it does suggest that the mind must be unhinged—the condition in which I found him on Sunday and Monday tends to support that view—I've since seen the wounds—there were four separate ones—two were deep and two superficial.
Re-examined. I never treated him for insanity—I saw him in a wild condition on Sunday—I went there, but did not go in that day—I met
I Dr. Wilson coming out—I've never seen any signs of insanity about him—I my partner was the last to attend him, about six weeks ago—he then had a bad cold—there was a lot of influenza about at the time—I had observed signs of overwork about him—as a solicitor he had done business for me after his father's death, and he said the burden was very great upon him.
By MR. AVORY. I did not know until recently that he had been treated when a boy for supposed affection of the brain.
WILLIAM TOMKINS (Inspector Y). Shortly before three on Sunday morning, 13th, I went to 95, Lady Margaret Road—I found that the prisoner had been taken to the hospital, and his wife was next door and had been medically attended—later on I arrested the prisoner on his discharge from the Great Northern Hospital—this revolver was handed to me by the constable—I took the prisoner to Kentish Town station and read the charge to him—it was for attempting to murder his wife and attempted suicide—he made no answer: he was very low.
MRS. NORRIS (re-examined.) I knew that my husband had a pistol—I suppose I must have seen it lying about—I do not know how long he had had it; I never saw him use it.
GUILTY of the act but not responsible, being insane at the time.—To be detained in Holloway Prison till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, March 12th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
BARRETT PLEADED GUILTY .— Twenty Months' Hard Labour. MESSRS. AVORY, GILL and STEPHENSON Prosecuted, MR. GRAIN appeared for Laurent, and MR. GEOGHEGAN for Weeks.
LAURENT, GUILTY — Nine Month's Hard Labour.
WEEKS, GUILTY— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MESSRS BODKIN and TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MESSRS. GEORGE BENBOW and SIMMONDS, Defended.
GEORGE BENBOW . (178 K.) I am on duty at Ilford—On January 24th, about 2.30 I was in the company of Constable Hill conveying the dead body of a man to a shed in the Green Grove, behind The Earl of Essex public-house—at the public-house I saw the prisoner—he came and interfered with the body we were carrying, we told him to leave it alone—he said "he is not dead he ought to have some brandy," he then began to use some filthy language to us and after we deposited the body we saw him at the public-house abusing the manager outside—I told him I should take him into custody if he did not go away—Hill did not take any part in the incident at 2.30—I should think the prisoner was under the influence of drink then.
EDWARD BATEMAN (697 K.) On January 24th, about 6.30 I was in Red Post Lane—I was off duty in plain clothes—I saw the prisoner there drunk—I saw Constable Hill there on duty—I heard him ask the prisoner to go away on several occasions which he refused to do, Hill took him into custody at once, he began to struggle—I went to his assistance, both of us took him to the station after the first struggle he went quietly—we took him to Forest Gate Police Station—I did not go into the cell while he was there—about 9.30 next morning I was outside the Stratford police-court, Hill was there too—the prisoner came and looked at us and went away for about ten minutes, he came back again from the direction of Grove Road—when I was standing on the kerb, Hill was standing on my left—I heard a revolver fired from behind—I saw Hill was shot behind the right ear—the blood was rushing down his neck—he was close to me—the prisoner was behind pointing a revolver at my face about a yard off—that would be about a foot or two more from Hill—he said, "You can have the other one"—I dodged into the roadway, and then ran up to Hill, who was reeling against the wall—the prisoner almost at the same time was seized from behind by a constable named McCardle, his arm knocked down and the revolver taken out of his hand.
Cross-examined. So far as I know I only heard one shot.
WALTER JAYNES (318 K). I was on duty on the evening of January 24th, when the prisoner was brought there by Hill and Bateman—he was put into a cell, and I afterwards went to help remove his boots—it is my duty to write the name of the prisoner in a cell, just outside, on a slate—whilst I was writing he said, "It is all right, policeman, you are having your own way now, but I shall have my own in the morning; that policeman will have to go through it."
Cross-examined. When I wrote his name outside the door that was before he was bailed—he was bailed at ten o'clock—he was locked up as drunk and disorderly—when he said, "All right, policeman," he was obviously drunk, but not helplessly drunk.
WILLIAM GRIGG (45 K). I was on duty at the police-station on January 24th—the prisoner was bailed at about 10.15—he was sober then—he said "I want the name and number of the constable who brought me here, as it is cruel to be brought here like this"—I wrote the name on a paper which I gave him—I said he would see the constable at the Court next morning—he said "all right you will hear more about this"—then he went away with his friends—they had to appear next morning at ten o'clock.
Cross-examined. He made no complaint about the police in the morning—I have seen him about and working on buildings—I know that he has been in trouble before, I do not know for what offence, perhaps for being drunk and disorderly.
JAMES ANDERSON . I live at 81, South Esk Road, Forest Gate—I know the prisoner by sight—on January 25th I was outside the White Hart in Woodstock Street—the prisoner came and asked me if I would buy him a shooter—I am a carpenter and joiner—I said I did not know what he meant by a "shooter," and he said a revolver and cartridges—I said "b—those things"—he said "I must get it myself"—I saw him again in the White Hart, he came in to get a drink along with another
bricklayer about two or three minutes afterwards—he had some beer—when he spoke to me he seemed rational enough to me, he was speaking quite quietly.
Cross-examined. That was on Tuesday—I am a carpenter—I had a job that day, I did not have a drink with him—The White Hart is about a minute's walk from my work—I stayed in the public-house till about 8.45—I said at the police-court, "I did not mention the matter to the police till they come to my house"—it has been suggested once that I am not right in my mind—I have been detained in Holloway infirmary for a week—I did not mention this to any man at the place where I was employed—" I did not work that day"—I did work that day—I had only one drink in The White Hart then—I did not pass any public-house going towards my job—I did not have any drink before I went to the works—I remained there till 10.30 before I had a drink, I did not have a whisky with the prisoner—I have known him for some time.
WILLIAM JONES . I am assistant to Mr. G. W. Clarke, pawnbroker, 253, Gipsy Land, East Ham—I saw the prisoner looking into the shop window—I went outside, and he asked me the price of a revolver, and I told him 8s. 6d., but that it was not in order, and he went away.
ALFRED CARTER . I am assistant to Mr. Edward Prout, pawnbroker, High Street, Stratford—on the morning of January 25th the prisoner came to my shop—he said he required a cheap revolver—I showed him two, and sold one of them (both produced) he then said he required ammunition for it—and I said, we did not keep it—that is the revolver—it is a second-hand one—he paid 7s. for it, and then went away—he seemed quite rational.
Cross-examined. I did not ask him if he had a gun license—I did not ask him what he wanted with a revolver at 8.30 in the morning—if a boy asked for a revolver I should not sell him one.
GEORGE LUCK . I am assistant to Mr. Thompson, pawnbroker, The Grove, Stratford—the prisoner came into my shop on this morning—he asked for some revolver cartridges—I asked him if he knew the size and he said "this is the size" producing this revolver—I showed him a box containing fifty—he said he only required enough to load the revolver, and did not want a box—I said I was sorry as we could not part a box—I changed my mind and sold him five—as soon as I gave them to him he took up the revolver and put them into it, and put it into his pocket—as he was loading it he said, "Do you know what I am going to do, I am going to shoot a policeman"—he then went outside the shop—I immediately followed, and seeing two policemen across the road went and told them: the circumstances.
Cross-examined. I have not got the box here from which this cartridge was taken—they are made in Belgium—the price is 4s. 6d. a box of fifty, that is about 1d. each—he offered me 2s. for five, and I took it—he did not appear to be in a desperate hurry—I did not tell him there was a gun-smith's down the road—I thought it strange he should want a few cartridges and not a box, and that he should pay 2s. for five—I have had it happen before but not frequently, perhaps 12 times a year—I will swear that—they may pay me less, they may pay me more, it may be the same sum—my employer was downstairs—I did not ask the prisoner what he wanted the cartridges for—I did not ask him where he lived.
By the COURT. I saw the revolver, it is foreign make, it is marked W. E. L.
FREAK PARKES . I live at 32, Amity Road, West Ham—I know the prisoner and on January 25th, about 9.30, I was in Great Eastern Road, just outside the court house—I saw the prisoner there and said to him, "Halloa Jolly, what do you want here?" and he said, "The b—s locked me up last night"—I said, "What for?" and he said, "For being drunk"—I said, "That will only cost you a dollar"—I saw Hill come out of the gate—the prisoner said. "Here comes the b—"—the constable came towards us and the prisoner pulled out a revolver from his right hand pocket and fired.
Cross-examined. I only heard one shot.
GEORGE HILL (146 K.) On the evening of January 24th I was on duty, and, with constable Benbow, was removing a dead body to a shed—The prisoner interfered with us while we were doing that—he had been drinking—after that, about 6.30, I was on duty in Red Post Lane, and I saw him again, he was drunk and making a noise—I took him into custody and, with the assistance of constable Batcman, took him to the station—next morning I was outside the Stratford Police-court, with other constables, waiting for the cases to be taken—I saw the prisoner there—I saw him coming up the road as if he was coming from The Grove—while I was standing on the kerb talking to Bateman, I heard a revolver shot and felt a blow on my face just underneath my ear—I turned round and found the prisoner standing behind me, on my right hand, about a yard away—he had a revolver in his hand, and said to Bateman, "There is one left for you"—I was taken to the hospital where I have been ever since.
JOHN MCCARDLE (7 73 K.) On the morning of January 25th I was outside the Police Court—I saw the prisoner there—he pointed a revolver at a policeman and said, "Take that you b—, for what you did for me last night"—I saw a policeman was shot, and I immediately ran to the prisoner and knocked his arm down, and got hold of his neck and his hand, and called to another constable to take the revolver out of his hand, which he did—he was taken into the police-station and charged at the West Ham Police-court—after he was charged he said, "You don't know all, he served me very cruelly."
Cross-examined. I only heard one shot.
CHARLES JOSEPH STOCKER . I am divisional surgeon and live at Romford Road, Forest Gate—on January 24th I examined the prisoner at the police-station—he was under the influence of drink and very excited—on the next day I saw Constable Hill at the West Ham Hospital—he was suffering from a wound below the right ear from which there was a discharge, and a discoloration round the wound, as if from a weapon fired close—we have up to now been unable to extract the bullet, but there is no doubt that a bullet is there, and it is proposed to do something—we have photographed the bullet and think it is in the upper jaw, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the nose—it went in behind and has gone forward, but it is thoroughly imbedded in the upper jaw—there is considerable reason to fear that, even if the bullet is removed, he will suffer from facial paralysis, and may have permanent injury.
Cross-examined. I think the bullet is flattened out a little.
By the COURT. It would depend a good deal on the strength of the powder behind what structures it would go through—the bullet has gone immediately above the palate—there is undoubtedly a broken bone—it could not have got there without breaking a bone—it has entered the upper jaw from the back—it has traversed the upper jaw without meeting any hard bone—the real difficulty is in locating it—the photograph shows that he has an injury to the nose and mouth—if it is in its proper shape it will be less difficult to extract it than if it is flattened out.
WILLIAM BURGESS (Police Sergeant J.) I was outside the Stratford Petty Sessions at 9.45 on January 25th—I heard a shot and saw the prisoner pointing a revolver—I seized him and took the revolver from him—he said, "You can have the other"—I gave the revolver to Inspector Healey when we got into the police-court.
JOHN HEALY (Inspector). I am inspector of police at Canning Town—I saw the prisoner there, he was taken before the Justices and charged with drunkenness, discharged and re-arrested on this charge—he said, "You don't know all, they used me cruel"—I received that revolver from Burgess—it had five cartridges in it and two were discharged—the nipple was down on one of the cartridges.
Cross-examined. In the Stratford police-court he was very much excited and straggling, that was after the shot had been fired—the charge of the previous night was not proceeded with on account of this one—he was convicted about eleven years ago for being drunk—I have seen the revolver, it is self-cocking—I don't know if it requires much muscular power—there were two cartridges used, I cannot explain the other—the nipple was down on another but it apparently mis-fired—one cartridge has been fired which I cannot account for, another by the wounding of Hill, and there has been an attempt to fire a third—when he was excited it was after the revolver had been fired.
The prisoner received a good character.
— GUILTY on Second Count. — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. BODKIN and TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS
GEORGE REED . I act as deputy to a lodging house 4, Barnes Street, Walworth—Michael Flannery was night porter there for about a month, he had been in the house about two years—on Monday morning, February 14th, about eleven, I went into the kitchen, there was a quarrel between the prisoner and Flannery—I said to Flannery "Now Michael, there is quite enough of this, I won't have it, if you want to quarrel you must go outside and quarrel," and with that it stopped—there had been a quarrel between them about twice between eleven and four—about four I was called down by ray wife into the kitchen, and tried to open the door bit could not do so for about three minutes—I could hear the prisoner and deceased quarrelling inside what is known as the sixpenny kitchen—I forced the door open and then saw the deceased lying on the floor on his
back and the prisoner was standing over him as if striking him with his right hand—I stopped them from fighting and told them to go outside—neither of them said anything but the prisoner walked out—I then lifted the deceased up and I saw blood running from his forehead—he went into the fivepenny wash-house—he stayed in the house that day and on Tuesday and Wednesday—nothing was done to his head—on Wednesday morning he got up about eleven, and went to bed about two—on Thursday morning I sent for the parish doctor and by his direction he was taken to St. Saviour's Union Infirmary—this file (produced I) have seen before in the house, I have seen the prisoner using it on the Monday morning to mend his boots, and I saw it on the Tuesday morning lying in the kitchen—I do not know who it belongs to—I gave it to the police—on the Thursday night there was some broken crockery on the floor of the kitchen—the prisoner said to me, "I think the detectives are after me for stabbing Mike"—I said, "That is ridiculous, there is nobody after you," and with that he went to bed—I never thought it was a stabbing case—when I saw the two men on the Monday they were intoxicated.
Cross-examined. Flannery was about the same size as the prisoner—he was rather violent when in drink—the prisoner was a peaceable man when sober—I believe he has his senses—he is called "Cracked Bill"—he and the prisoner have nagged each other, when the prisoner was. mending his boots he was sitting by a form near the window—the sixpenny kitchen was only used by a few persons the men did not use each other's tools as a rule—I saw this upright iron foot there—that was used by the prisoner—I saw nothing in the prisoner's hand when he hit the deceased—I did not know he was hurt till he was taken to the hospital—the prisoner said, "I did not stab him."
WILLIAM ROOK . I am a bricklayer, and live at this lodging-house—on Monday, 14th February, about half-past eleven in the morning, I was. in the kitchen—the prisoner was there, mending a pair of boots, and was using this file, and this iron foot—Flannery came in in a violent temper—he took hold of the prisoner by his left shoulder and his two legs and leant up against the steps leading into the fourpenny kitchen—he stood over him and said, "Now can you fight"—I then left the room, as I was terribly afraid of the deceased—he had knocked me about twice since Christmas—I came back about three—the prisoner and another man were lying on a form asleep—and Flannery pitched the table right on to them—I then went out again.
Cross-examined. Flannery was very violent when in drink, more like a madman—he was a younger man than the prisoner—the nickname given to the prisoner was "Tricky Alf"—Flannery was alway on to him.
JOSEPH STUART RICHES . I am medical superintendant of St. Saviour's Infirmary—the deceased was admitted there on February 17th—I saw him on the 18th—he was suffering from an inflamed wound in the head, and was in a delirous condition—on the 19th I made a more detailed examination—I found that he was suffering from a wound on the right temple, which had perforated the skull and damaged the brain, causing inflammation—he was delirious up to the time of his death—on the 20th I made a post mortem—the inflammation set up by the wound was the
cause of death—this file might have produced such a wound—it must have required great force.
Cross-examined. I could not say the depth of the wound—it may have gone some distance into the brain—I am not able to say that this iron foot could not have caused it.
MATTHEW CHICK (formerly Police Sergeant L, now pensioned.) On, the night of February 19th, I arrested the prisoner at the lodging house—I told him it was for violently assaulting a man—he said, "We had a row, and I don't recollect anything else"—I found the rasp, or file, in the kitchen—he said, "I was mending my boots on that day"—when charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. He is a fairly conducted man when sober—he has done regular work.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The iron foot done it, or the broken china, I did not do it with that rasp."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
ANNIE CARVELL . I am married—I live at 48, Martin Road, Custom House—I have a grown-up son, George Carvell, who lives in the house—he will be 19 in August—previous to the 20th February I had been living with the prisoner for between five and six years—at 1.30 p.m. that day I was still in bed—I was sober, but was suffering from the prisoner's ill usage on the Saturday—the prisoner came in—my son was sitting by the fire—the prisoner said, "Are you going to get up?"—I said, "When I am ready"—he said, "I will give you 10 minutes to get up"—he went to the coal box and got the paraffin bottle and sprinkled it all on the bed—half-pint was in the bottle—he took a box of matches from his brown, coat pocket and set light to it—he got a sheet of paper and lit it by the fire and put that on the bed—he stood with his back against the front room door and defied anyone to go out—my son got up from the fire-place, walked across the room—the prisoner said, "You are not going out of here, all in here is going to be burnt"—I had not seen him since 7.30 p.m.—he had been drinking heavily all the week—other people were in the house up and down stairs—ours is the front top room—the fire was put out by Day, the lodger in the back room—the bed was half burnt, and the mattress and other things and the floor was scorched—when Gibbens would not allow my son to go out my son got the poker and struck Gibbens with it when he saw me in flames—I do not know whether my husband is alive, I have not seen him for four years—I was left with a family of children, and have worked for them and the prisoner, and could put a loaf on the table for his loaf—I feel ashamed and people blame me, but I stick to my children, and will a little longer.
age—I live with her—at 1.30 on February 30th I was in my mother's room when the prisoner came in—he asked my mother to get up—she said, "I will when I am ready"—he got the paraffin oil bottle and set alight with paper to the bed—he put his back to the door, and said I was not to touch the fire or try to get out—I asked him to let me go—he would not, so I got the poker and hit him with it, and got out and told the police—there was not much burnt, the mattress was scorched and the floor slightly—the fire was put out with water—I am a dock labourer.
WILLIAM HENRY GWENNELL . I am the officer in charge of the Fire Brigade—I was called in—when I got into the room the fire was out—the floor had been burnt, as well as the mattress, palliasse, and chairs—I noticed a smell of paraffin, which is difficult to put out.
CHARLES BARKER (719 K.) I took the prisoner into custody on February 20th—I charged him with setting fire to 48, Martin Road—He said, "All right! that is right"—on the way to the station he said he was drunk when he set alight to it—he produced a poker and said the son had struck him with it—he also said, "I did not mean to burn it; I only did it to frighten her."
Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was: "I have no witnesses.
This has been going on since Monday night, this day week. Three nights last week I went home and found her drunk. She threw things at me then; I threw the things on the fire—that is how it began."
ANNIE CARVELL (re-called). There had not been quarrelling the previous week—the prisoner had not to go out—he is a wicked vagabond and took my last few shillings on Wednesday, and I did not see anything more of him till the Saturday morning.
Prisoner's defence: I was drunk, I do not recollect much about it, I am very sorry for it.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. LYNCH Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Month's Hard Labour.
MR. DRAKE Prosecuted.
MR. WATT Defended.
JOHN BUSH . I am a horse dealer, of 276, High Street, Stratford—I have been there all my life—I met the prisoner some time last October, I entered into an arrangement with him about a pony—it was middle-aged—it cost me £5 5s. and the harness £1 10s.—I lent it to him, he paid me weekly till just before Christmas—I lent him £2 at Christmas, at a public-house—I went to find him but could not, and met a man in a cart who told me something—I found the prisoner at last and he said he would pay me back the £2 and send the pony buck on the following Saturday, that was in January—I never sold him the pony—he moved away and I could not find him for two months—I found the pony at a horse repository, I did not give the prisoner any authority to sell it.
Cross-examined. I slaughter horses—I buy them for that purpose—I sell them to another man—I bought this horse for £5 5s.—I should not give that to kill him—I think it was before September—a book was kept, the prisoner has it—I cannot say exactly whether it was the end of September or in October, it might have been the end of September—he did not ask me the price of the horse—I did not say at Stratford in my evidence, "You asked me the price of the horse"—I don't remember saying to him, "You asked me the price of the horse and I did not tell you"—I did not say that I would take £5—it cost £5 5s., so I should not take £5—I did not sell him the horse—after he sold his shop I never saw him—I lent him the £2 a long time after I handed over the horse to him—he was owing me no money then—I did not know him before that—I saw him once in the street after he sold his shop, but he had not the money—he never told me that he went to Walthamstow, but could not get a house—I tried to find him there and could not—I asked him where he had gone and he told me he lived at Forest Gate—that was the only money he borrowed of me.
Re-examined. The £2 is still owing, and I have not got the harness back—I never mentioned anything about a sale—I gave him a book in which the hiring payments were entered—Mr. Gibbs kept it—I did not enter in the book each time—he never told me that it was lost.
LUDWIG KURTZ .—I am a baker, of Walthamstow—I have known the prisoner some years—he came to me on February 19th and asked if I would lend him £1 or 30s. on his pony—I said I could not do it, and he pressed me to buy the pony and asked £3 for it—I bought it for 50s.—on Sunday morning I found the pony was lame, and on Monday I sent him to be sold—I made a statement to Mr. Bush—I did not see the pony at the repository, I saw it outside Stratford police-station—it was the one the prisoner sold me.
Cross-examined. I use three or four horses in my business daily—I am sorry to say I gave too much for the pony, both his knees were broken and had been blackened over—he might be worth £5 for some poor person.
WALTER HENBEST (Policeman) I arrested the prisoner on February 25th—I saw him in Wood Street, Walthamstow—I said I was a police officer and had a warrant for his arrest, I read it to him—he replied, "I did not steal it, I half paid for it"—when charged he replied, "It was my horse."
Cross-examined. I have not heard that he has been charged before.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I bought the pony about January 7th, as near as I can remember, by word of mouth."
The prisoner received a good character.
— NOT GUILTY .
MR. SYMONOS prosecuted.
FREDERICK FREEBODY . I am barman at the Royal Oak public-house, Barking Road—on Saturday, February 13th, I was standing outside the house at about 7.30, and saw the prisoner go into Mr. Freedman's shop, No. 68, opposite, and take a water jug which was near the door—he came out with it and came towards me—I said to him, "Why don't you go and put it back?"—he said nothing—he went into the Royal Oak—as he went in I went across the road and made a communication to Mr. Allen—the prisoner had been in the Royal Oak in the middle of the day; he was there till I went to rest at three o'clock—I did not serve him; there was nobody in the bar but me—I don't think he was sober.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. When you went to the station I did nob tell the inspector that you were drunk: I said you had had some drink.
FREDERICK ALLEN . I live at 65, Barking Road—I am manager to the prosecutor—on Saturday, February 12th, I was in the shop, at the back attending to a customer in the office—the last witness came and made a statement to me, and I went to look at the goods in the shop—there was a chamber feet near the door—a jug was missing from it, value 1s. 6d.—it was about 18 inches high.
JOHN DON (Detective Sergeant K) On February 13th I saw the prisoner in the Barking Road about 1.25—I told him I should take him into custody for stealing a jug from inside a shop at 65, Barking Road—he said, "I do not know anything about the jug, I was blind drunk all the night."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I had been drinking all Saturday night from 4.30 to seven o'clock, and when I came out I do not know what I did."
Prisoner's Defence: I was very drunk. I had been drinking all the afternoon. I had 12s. or 14s. in my pocket. I did not know anything about it till the detective took me. I know the man and he knows me. I do not know where the jug is. I remember nothing.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
SAMUEL ODLE . I am chief clerk at the London and County Bank, Richmond—the prisoner had an account there—it was opened on October 14th, 1892, and kept fairly regularly down to March, 1896, on which day a cheque for £2 was presented and was dishonoured—I produce a copy of the account—dishonoured cheques do not appear in the banking account, we have a special book for that purpose, and this an extract from it—on September 30th, 1896, five cheques were presented and dishonoured, and on September 30th the account was closed, after which 10 cheques were presented and dishonoured—this cheque for £2 was presented on March 25th and dishonoured—14 cheques, amounting to £35 10s., were presented, 10 of which were after the account had been closed—on May 17th, 1897, I received this letter by a messenger enclosing a Post Office Order for £3 against a cheque which had been drawn—I replied by the bearer, "Dear Sir,—In view of the fact that you have been
drawing cheques without funds to meet the same, we must decline to re-open your account. "I then received another letter asking us to re-consider our decision, and open his account—we did not do so—on May 28th and June 12th the same cheque was presented for £2 10s.
HARRY SIRKETT . I keep the Railway Hotel, Blackheath—on March 16th, 1897, I kept the Cross Keys, Long Acre I knew the prisoner as a customer—I am a Freemason, but I did not know the prisoner to be one—he said, "Do you know Mr. Thomas coming here"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Would you mind cashing a little cheque for me as I have run short, and want money to carry me home"—I did so—this is it—he wrote it in my presence, and I gave him £2, believing it to be good—it was returned marked "Account closed"—I wrote to the prisoner and got a reply asking me not to present the cheque till Saturday next, as he found there was not enough to meet it, but it had been paid in then—on March 27th I got another letter from him—I had written to him in the meantime, this stated, "As I have not heard from you since, I presume the cheque has been honoured by my bankers"—on May 1st I got a letter saying that he would send me a cheque next Saturday—I have had 10s. of the money back.
ERNEST FREDERICK ANDERSON . I am a clerk in the Capital and Counties Bank, Ludgate Hill—on September 27th, 1897, the prisoner opened an account there and on November 1st his credit balance was 2s. 6d.—after that date nothing was paid in, but on November 2nd and 5th cheques for £5 and £11 were presented and dishonoured—on November 6th I wrote this letter to the prisoner: "Dear, Sir, I find we have recently had occasion to return two of your cheques I think it right to inform you that irregularities of this nature will not be allowed"—I then received a letter saying that he had no idea that his account was overdrawn—our manager replied to that on November 8th—we then received this letter, it is signed by the prisoner, this stated, I am in receipt of your favour of yesterday"—our letter had said, "We are unable to pay your cheques unless you supply funds"—he replied, "I really thought there were ample funds"—on and after November 9th, 12 cheques were presented, and in all 17 cheques, to the amount of £67 5s., and during the whole of that time the credit balance was 2s. 6d.
GEORGE JOHN PENNEY . I am the son of George Francis Penney, and am in his employ at the Essex Arms, Leytonstone Road—on November 6th, about four p.m., the prisoner asked me if I would change a cheque for him—I said I would see my father about it—he asked me for a pen and ink, and wrote this cheque (produced)—he had a book of cheques—I cashed it for him—it was paid in and dishonoured—I then took a message from my father to the prisoner on November 13th, stating that he wanted to see him—he said that he had written to him and handed me this letter (produced)—I handed the letter to my father.
GEORGE FRANCIS PENNEY —I keep the Essex Arms, Leytonstone Road—I authorized my son to cash this cheque for £2—and got a letter dated November 9th, by post—this stated, "My bankers inform me that they have had occasion to return the cheque, it was done unintentionally; I shall see you before Thursday"—I did not write to him or see him afterwards—on December 4th I got this letter, "I am exceedingly sorry, but hope you will not take proceedings, as it will put me to a deal of trouble"
—there was an action in the County Court—at the time I parted with my money I believed it to be a genuine cheque.
Cross-examined. You called on me on the Tuesday with a piece of gold in your hand—I do not know what it was, I refused to take it.
RICHARD BENNETT . I keep the King of Prussia, Broadway, Stratford—on Sunday, November 3rd, the prisoner called as a customer—he had this cheque ready written, and endorsed it on my counter—I gave him £4 for it—it was written on Sunday, and endorsed on Sunday—he said, "It is one of my own, and it is all right"—I paid it into my bank, and it was returned marked R.D.—I received this letter on January 25th, 1898—the prisoner came to see me about a fortnight after the cheque was dishonoured, he said he expected some money, and when he got it he would come and pay me—he wrote to me, "Dear brother Bennett," as a brother mason.
Cross-examined. You did not call on me on the Saturday morning and stop to the afternoon on the day the cheque was drawn, it was Sunday at dinner time, and you gave as a reason for it that the bank was closed—I never saw you on Saturday—you had a letter in your hand but I never opened it.
GEORGE DENLEY . I am caretaker at Artillery House, Stratford—I know the prisoner as a member of the Artillery Club—on a Saturday night I heard him ask the steward to cash a cheque for him, he said "Not without, authority," he asked me and said, "My account is good and is genuine, and it will be all right,"—I gave him £3 for it and on the following Monday I got this letter from him, "December 5th. On balancing up my account to-day I find there is not sufficient to meet the cheque," &c., and asking me to hold it over—I received this other letter from him (Promising to pay before the end of the week)—another letter stated, "I thought I should have been able to send you the money, I am expecting a sum of money to-morrow or Thursday"—I never cashed the cheque. I kept it back at his request—I never received anything on it.
ERNEST GLADSTONE LINCOLN . I am a ham and beef dealer, of Leytonstone Road, Stratford—I know the prisoner by sight—on December 8th at eleven p.m. he came and asked me to let him have £3 as he wanted cash in the morning—he said that he was the son-in-law of a customer of mine, which he is, and gave me her address—he wrote a cheque from a cheque book and I gave him £3—I took it to the Capital and Counties Bank next morning and it was dishonoured, nothing has been paid to me.
Cross-examined. You asked me to wait, and I promised to do so—I am not prosecuting now.
WILLIAM EUSTACE (Detective Sergeant.) I am stationed at West Ham—on January 7th I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest in Mr. Bennett's case—I tried to find him at 38, Janson Road—I found him in Eaton Square—he was living in a lodging-house in a street off Eaton Square—he said, "It is no fraud I shall pay him to-morrow, I wrote him a letter saying so; I wrote him a letter from 31, Dawson Road before Christmas."
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I wish you would deal with this case under the First Offenders' Act, I reserve my defence, I have no witnesses."
The prisoner produced a written defence stating that he had no intention of committing fraud, and that all the prosecutors had promised to wait for their money, that he was prevented from sending it owing to his arrest, and that he had been six weeks in custody.
GUILTY .— Eight Months Hard Labour.
To enter into recognizances to appear for judgment if called upon.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BURY Prosecuted.
ROBERT THOMAS ROSE (Dock Police Inspector). On February 22nd I attended at King's Town police-station and saw this pair of boots (produced)—I compared them with the other pair pawned by the prisoner, and the numbers corresponded—they are 69983 and 69984—on February 17th I examined a case and found it broken open, and 16 pairs missing—I charged the prisoner.
CHARLES FIELDING . I am assistant to Mr. Hill, a pawnbroker—on February 17th, just before seven o'clock, the prisoner brought a pair of boots, and said that they were her husband's, and that he gave half-a-guinea for them—I lent her 5s. on them.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. You did not say that they belonged to a young man outside—I said that I should not mind giving half-a-guinea for a pair like them—they are very well made—they look as if they had been worn, but she said that they had merely been rubbed in the dirt.
WILLIAM LEONARD (Policeman K) On February 25th I went to the address on this ticket—I asked for Mrs. Sullivan, and found that she had lived there some time before—I found her at 22, Poplar Street, and said, "I shall take you and your son in custody for stealing 16 pairs of boots from the Royal Albert Docks, and I have a pair which were pawned"—she said, "I know nothing about them; I did not pawn them"—when the pawnbroker identified her she said, "Oh! I have pawned lots of boots."
Cross-examined. You did not tell me that you had pawned the boots, you repeatedly said that you had not.
JOHN CONDON (Dock Detective). On February 17th, about nine p.m., I went to Poplar Street and saw the prisoner, I asked her if her son was at home, she said, "No," I said, "Do you know where he is?" she said,
I have heard he is locked up for stealing boots"—I said, "Have you got any boots in the house?" she said, "No, you can come in and see if you like"—she did not tell me that she had pawned a pair that very day.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "I pawned one pair of boots given me by a seafaring chap who said that he bought them at the Custom House. I said, "Are they yours?" he said, "Yes."
Evidence for the Defence.
CATHERINE SULLIVAN . My mother was taking me to the station on the Thursday morning, between ten and eleven o'clock, and some young man stopped her and said, "Please Mrs. Sullivan, will you pawn these boots"—I do not know who he was—she pawned them and he gave her some coppers—I have never seen him before or since, and yet he knew my mother and called her Mrs. Sullivan.
Prisoner's defence: I never stole anything in my life. I was asked to go to the pawn-shop with the boots, and I got 5s. on them. I was never locked up, only once. He was a seafaring man who kept company with my husband.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. GOODWIN Prosecuted.
THOMAS PYM . I am a rag merchant of 11, Camden Hill—on February 19th the prisoner came to my house and said that he was my nephew, my brother John's son of Cookham, and I believed him—on February 26th he got up directly after I did, and took eight cheques out of my book, one of which was for £10 18s., and £2 out of my case.
Cross-examined by the prisoner I have only two brothers alive—I have seen my brother's son, but not for years—you came to my door and said, "You ain't Uncle Dick," I said "No"—you said, "Then you are Uncle Tom"—I did not tell you I would give you six weeks' imprisonment—I did not take my money out of my pocket every night and sleep on it that my wife should not take it.
T. PYM (Re-examined.) This is my watch.
WALTER VAGG (Police Sergeant)—I arrested the prisoner and told him it was for stealing £2, a Cardigan jacket, and eight blank cheques—he said, "Yes"—I found on him this pawnticket relating to the watch—it corresponds with the duplicate—I took him to the station.
Prisoner's defence: The prosecutor has done seven years penal servitude for receiving stolen property—when the police asked him what sort of watch it was, he said that he did not know.
T. PYM (Re-examined). It is not true that I have been convicted or that I have done seven years penal servitude—I was in trouble for six weeks for insulting my wife, not for stealing—I know this watch because
I have bad it nine or ten years—this is my cheque-book—I bank at the London and Midland—the counterfoils are cut out also, and are missing.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on November 7th, 1896, and two other convictions were proved against him.—Three Years Penal Servitude
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
257. JAMES GILBERT (37), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing two pairs of boots, the property of John Augustus Fane, having been before convicted of felony. The police staged that, he had been in prison for different offences nearly all his life.— Twelve Months Hard Labour. And
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
FLORENCE ALICE LADD . My father keeps The Rose and Grown, High Street, Lambeth—on February 7th at 9.30 Breedwood came in for half a pint of ale, and gave me a florin—I gave him 1s. 11d. change, and put it separate—Mason then came in for a pony, that is quarter of a pint, he gave me another florin, he treated Breedwood—I took both florins to my father in the parlour—he broke one, and I went back into the bar and the prisoners were making for the door, leaving both quantities of beer—I went outside and pointed them out to my father—he brought Breedwood back, and I saw Mason brought back—these are the coins (produced) one is broken.
WILLIAM HENRY LADD . On February 7th my daughter brought me two bad florins into the parlour—I tried one and broke it—this is it—I followed her into the street, and she pointed out two men going out of the door—I took Mason and said, "I shall take you back and charge you with passing bad money—Breedwood said, "I will settle this case"—Milton, the potman, came up, and when we got back to the bar I produced the two florins, and Mason pulled out 8s. or 9s. and said, "There you are old man, take it out of that"—I said, "No, I shall get a policeman"—Mason went out to get a policeman, and I took him running away six or seven yards from the house—Breedwood went the other way—I got hold of him, and he struck out and said, Take that you—and I struck him and gave him in custody—Mason was arrested on the 13th, and I picked him out from seven or eight others.
FREDERICK SMITH (340 l.). I was called to Old Paradise Street on February 7th and found Mr. Ladd holding Breedwood by his collar—he said "Hold him, I want him for passing bad money"—I went back to the Rose and Crown and he gave me two coins—I said "You come with me to the station"—he said "You have mistaken me for the other boy"—I
took him to the station and found on 6s. 6d. and this pawnticket—he was asked his address and said "I live anywhere."
JOHN WOODHOUSE (57 l.).I arrested Mason on this Tuesday night and told him the charge—he said "I am not the man, I know the man you want, I know all about it but I had nothing to do with it"—he was taken to the station, I picked him out at the station from six or seven others.
F. A. LADD (Re-examined). I did not pick Mason out, his face seems altered to me but I think he is the man—his eyes are drawn up a bit.
Witnesses for Mason's Defence
GEORGE RUSHTON . I am a labourer of 19, Carlisle Buildings, Lambeth—I am Mason's brother-in-law and live with my sister and him—on February 7th, I left my workshop at the Crown Linoleum Works, Black-friars, at 8.30, not with him but I saw him leave—I do not know what time he got home, I was at the workshop.
Cross-examined. I did not get home till about 12.15, and between 8.30 and that time I saw nothing of him—he was in bed when I got home—my wife is not here, she is confined—she was called at the police-court but I was not present.
JOHN WOODHOUSE (re-examined.) I was present when Caroline Rushton was examined at the police-court—she signed her deposition (The deposition of Caroline Rushton being read stated that Mason came home from work at 8.45 to wash and went out at nine and came back at ten or quarter past and showed her a bill which he had paid, and a box of pills).
HENRY BAKER . I am a carman of 33, Payne Street, Vauxhall—on February 7th, Mason was with me till 10.15—I saw him first and he said let us go and have a wash and have a stroll—we went to a pawnshop and then he went and bought a box of clothes and left me at 10.30.
Cross-examined. I work at Clarksons in Newport Street—I saw him first at quarter to nine—I have known him six years—I had not been in his company the previous night—this was Monday, February 7th, I first heard of this on Tuesday—I did not go to the police-court—I did not known it then—he was remanded for a week I understood, but really it was disposed of on the following day—we went to Mr. Harvey's shop and he paid what he owed, and I paid something off my account to the same person—that was 9.30 as near as possible—Carlisle Buildings are about 15 minutes' walk from the Rose and Crown.
Cross-examined. I was going through the Cut—Harvey's and Thompson's is in the Cut—I cannot tell you the day of the month—I am sure it was three weeks ago to-day—I went to a benefit that night at St. Alban's Street, for the Infirmary—I heard of this charge the same night when I came home—it was Tuesday the 8th—I mean to say that I heard that night that Mason was locked up, and yet I did not go to say that I had seen him on the night in question.
work with Mason at the Linoleum Factory—He left at 8.30 on Monday, February 7th, and I saw him no more that night—that is 20 minutes walk from the Rose and Crown—I do not know Breedwood.
Cross-examined. Trams run in that direction—He lives about 10 minutes from the Rose and Crown—it is on the same ride of the road.
LOUISA BENTLEY . I am single and live at 8, Carlisle Buildings—I am housekeeper to my mother—on February 7th I saw Mason go out with Baker about 9.30 p.m.—I saw him come back about 10.40—he lives on the some landing with me—I heard him come back and spoke to him—He said "I shall knock you over one of these days"—I said, "Oh I will you."
Cross-examined. I first heard of this charge on the following Saturday—Mrs. Rushton is his sister, and she told me, and I called to mind that it was on the 7th—she said that he was in custody on a charge of uttering counterfeit coin—I was first asked to come and give evidence on the Saturday following the 7th—I was not at the police-court—I cannot say whether it was the Saturday following, but I know it was a Saturday—I did not go to the police-court and give evidence in his favour, because I did not know.
Evidence in reply.
WILLIAM PENDLEY . I am assistant to Harvey and Thompson, clothiers, 16 and 17, New Cut—on February 7th, two young men came in, Baker was on of them, Mason may have been the other, but I do not recognize him—it was between 9.15 and 9.45—we take payments by instalments.
Mason's defence: I was with a brother of mine, he had his eye struck by a gas pipe, and it is like mine.
GEORGE RUSHTON , Re-examined. Mason's brother is taller than he is—he has something the matter with his eye—but he is not his brother, but he gives out that he is—his name is Fitzgerald—he is about Mason's size, and very much like him—he has been going about with a handkerchief over his eyes for some weeks, but he has taken it off now.
BREEDWOOD— GUILTY . Several convictions were proved against him— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MASON— NOT GUILTY .
JONES PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted, and MR. K. FRITH Defended William.
MARY PALMER . I am the wife of Arthur Ernest Palmer, a night foreman, of 51, Commercial Street, E.—on February 2nd, the two prisoners took our first floor front room at 6s.—they were both together when the agreement was made and Jones paid some rent in advance—I supplied them each with a latch key and one bed-room key—they had the entire use of the room—they cleaned their own room—they had about a half cwt. of coal brought there every day—they went out together and very often returned together—as far as I know nobody else entered their room except myself—they brought a tin box there on the night they came and carried it up together—the police came on February 5th about eleven p.m. and I saw them enter that room.
February 6th I went to 51, Commercial Road with other officers and saw Mrs. Palmer—we went, to the first floor front room and forced the door—the prisoners were not there—we found a mould of a florin of 1896, two brown paper wrappers, a glass, two moulds for shillings, one for sixpences, some antimony, lamp black, potassium and other articles, and some plaster of Paris in the oven—some of them were in a tin trunk—these things are the stock in trade of a coiner—the bed had not been slept in—there were four moulds and a block of plaster of Paris, which has been opened and found to contain 2s.—the prisoners came in and were detained in a room by two officers—it was after their arrest that we went to their room.
FREDERICK GREY (Police Sergeant L) I went with the other officers at eleven o'clock—the prisoners were not there, we waited till one o'clock, they came in and I said, "We are police officers, we are going to arrest you for having materials for coining"—they made no reply—I found a good shilling on Jones.
ALBERT HARRISON (Detective L). I went with the other officers and took Williams, and found four counterfeit shillings in his right trousers, pocket loose, and 26 good sixpences, two good shillings, and 6s. 10d. in bronze—I charged Williams at the station; he made no reply.
Cross-examined. The shilling is bent as if it might have been bitten.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I have been employed for a number of years as an inspector for the Mint—the police have shown me four complete single moulds for florins, shillings, and sixpences—I opened this block of plaster of Paris—it is a mould, and, probably, was joined together for the purpose of concealment—these things are the stock in trade of a coiner—these five shillings are counterfeit, and came from one of these moulds.
Williams' statement before the Magistrate: "I knew nothing about the moulds being in the house till Friday, because a fellow used to come at night, and used to wait till I was asleep before he did anything. I was going to leave on Friday because this fellow was to come and live there." Be repeated the same statement in his defence and called
JOHN JONES, the prisoner. I have pleaded guilty to this charge—I was living at 51, Commercial Road—Williams is not guilty; he knows nothing about it—I was standing in Waterloo Road with Tom White—he is a fighter by profession—I do not know where he lives, but I know where he generally knocks about—I was with him on the Saturday night of my arrest, when Williams came up about 12.30—that was the first time I saw him that day, but he is a companion of mine—he slept two nights with me in the same bed, but he knew nothing about the articles—they were not brought there till Friday night, when they were brought there by Tom White—I asked Williams where he had been—he said, "At the club"—I said, "What are your winnings"—he said, "Only a few coppers," and that he changed them at a stall and got bad shillings—I told him they were bad and told him to give them to White in the morning—he asked me for a match, and I said if he came up to my room I would give him a box full—he went with me and was arrested—when he said the shillings were bad I tried one by biting it.
Cross-examined. I went with him when he took the rooms—he went with me to represent Tom White on the Tuesday, and he went with me
to carry a box upstairs—that was to represent Tom White—he lived a few doors off, but he slept with me two nights to keep me company—I asked him to come there to represent Tom White—he had' a latch key of the house—I had two and gave him one—I could not undo the door and I asked him to open it on this night—I went in and out with him on several occasions—I went with him in the middle of the day—we did not have half hundredweights of coal every day, only a quarter—it was very cold weather and we had a bit of tire of a night—the oven was part of the range, and I put the plaster of Paris into it—we did not make any bad money, Tom White brought it—the box was not heavy, but it was very awkward to carry; my overcoat was in it and other property—these things were not in it, Tom White brought them wrapped up in a brown paper parcel, a good big parcel—he threw a stone up at the window and I went down and let him in—I knew what these things were—Tom White did not start work directly he came in—he did nothing—he was only there a quarter of an hour, and said he would come again on Saturday night—I put the things into the oven—Williams was in bed, sound asleep, while Tom White was there—Tom White told me not to let him know anything about it—I was out with him about three o'clock on Thursday afternoon, and till about five o'clock on Saturday.
Re-examined. I had arranged to take this room with Tom White, he was not ready to come—he is married and the room was to be taken by two single young men—he had a latch key, but he was only there two nights—I lent him one—it required two persons because one had to hold the light to see where the keyhole was.
By the COURT. I believe he got the 26 good sixpences at the club—I did not know that he had been out changing shillings—besides that he had got all that copper—I had not been out with him changing bad shillings.
WILLIAMS GUILTY — One Year and Eight Months' Hard Labour —JONES, who had been three times convicted of uttering counterfeit coins— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HARDY, Prosecuted; and MR. THOMPSON, Defended.
JAMES MOORE PLEADED GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
CHARLES MOORE, NOT GUILTY . Both prisoners received good characters.
Before Mr. Recorder.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MARCH 28TH, 1898.