CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
NINTH SESSION, HELD JUNE 20TH, 1898.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
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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, June 20th, 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 the High Court; The Hon. Sir CHAS JOHN DARLING , Knt., one other of the Justices of the High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., M.P., SIR JOSEPH RENALS , Knt., and Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL PHILLIPS , Bart., SIR JOSEPH SAVORY , Bart., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE , Knt., MARCUS SAMUEL , Esq., WALTER JAMES MORGAN , Esq., JOHN POUND , Esq., WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR , Esq., FREDERICK PRATT ALLISTON , Esq., THOMAS VESEY STRONG , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
DAVIES, MAYOR. NINTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, June 20th 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and H. AVORY Prosecuted, and MR. ELLIOTT Defended.
BARON DE GOURELLI . I call myself Baron de Gourelli, and I was convicted in that name last October at this Court, and sentenced to five years' penal servitude, which I am now serving—I was arrested on October 16th, while staying at the Covent Garden Hotel—I had then a quantity of clothing and luggage, and after my arrest I was sent to Holloway Goal on remand—while there I heard the name of Mr. Cudley, a solicitor, of Chancery Lane, and in consequence I wrote this letter (produced) to him—I got no answer, and in consequence I wrote this letter on October 8th. (Asking Mr. Cudley to call and see the prisoner at Helloway, so that he might communicate with his friends). Soon after I sent that I received a telegram in the name of Cudley, and a few days after the prisoner came and saw me—he represented himself to be Mr. Cudley's clerk, and said that Mr. Cudley had received my letters, and that he had come on Mr. Cudley's behalf for instructions for my defence—I made a statement to him about my own case, and he took a note of it—I made that statement to him believing him to be the clerk to the solicitor who was going to defend me—I think he said the cost would be £20—I gave him the names and addresses of some of my friends—at that first interview I
said I was anxious that my luggage at the Covent Garden Hotel should be taken care of until my release, and he proposed that I should give him an authority that he might be able to take possession of it—he wrote the authority, and I signed it—I mentioned there would be something to pay, because I had had dinner at the hotel before I was arrested; it was a small amount—the prisoner took away the authority—he came again, and said, "We have taken possession of the luggage"—he always spoke of "We"—on October 25th I was anxious to see him again about my defence, and I got a person in the prison to write this letter in French, asking him to call as soon as possible—the prisoner came and saw me on October 26th—I was then in Newgate—he said Mr. Cudley was ready with my defence, and that Lord Coleridge had been retained for me—he said I was to make no reply whatever when called upon"—I then gave him authority to take some luggage I had at Brighton—he wrote out the authority in the same way as before, but he signed it in my name—I told him to do so—this is it (produced)—on October 26th I was brought up here to plead; I made no reply—I was put back till next day, and upon being brought into Court I found no counsel or solicitor—I inquired for Mr. Cudley, and while I was in the dock the prisoner came up to me and said that my friends having refused the money, Mr. Cudley could not supply counsel and that no solicitor could conduct the proceedings before the Court, and that they advised me to pleaded guilty, which I did—he said he could not come and see me with reference to my luggage since I was sentenced—I was taken to Wormwood Scrubbs, and I sent for the prisoner, but I got no answer—I wrote to Mr. Cudley, asking him about the luggage—this is the letter—(read)—"Lewes Prison, November 18th, 1897. Dear Sir,—I gave authority to Mr. W. Mason, who came to see me at Holloway and Newgate, stating to be your representative, to take away some luggage from two hotels, and I shall be glad if you will let me know whether you will keep the luggage for me till I am discharged. Kindly also let me know how much money you have paid out for me, so that I may know where I am about it"—the Governor of Lewes Prison told me there was no answer to the letter—I left at the Covent Garden Hotel a coat, several suits of clothes, linen, boots, a hat, etc., worth, I should think, about £30—I was dressing well at that time.
Cross-examined. I did not give the defendant any money—I do not know whether my friends provided any money—Mason said he had had no money from my friends—he said that as my friends had sent no money, Mr. Cudley could provide no counsel—I asked him to get a counsel—I did not give him any money, but the prisoner said that did not matter as Mr. Cudley thought he could wait—he said they would act whether they bad money or not—in France the Government have to provide counsel.
KENNETH BROWN . I am manager of the Covent Garden Hotel—in October last a man named Gourelli stayed there—I do not know that he was arrested there—some time after he left a man called purporting to come from a Mr. Cudley, a solicitor—he paid a bill of 23s. for Gourelli, and he gave a receipt for Gourell's luggage, which is now produced—I cannot swear to the prisoner, but I fancy I have seen his face before—he wrote a receipt in my presence, and gave the name of E. Mason.
Cross-examined. I have not a list of the articles, but I think there is one—I think it is in the office—I do not remember Inspector Arrow coming with the prisoner—I cannot say that he was not—I declined to give the goods up until the police were communicated with, and I remember Inspector Arrow coming—they were given up in his presence—I remember Inspector Arrow took some of the articles from the trunk for the purpose of identification—I think they were articles of clothing—I do not remember an overcoat—there was a dress suit—I do not remember if the inspector took it.
Re-examined. I saw the contents of the box which was taken away—it was a large box and quite half full.
Cross-examined. The inspector was not there when they were given out—I do not remember him taking them—I did not see the inspector at all till after the goods were sent away—I remember him coming afterwards—I don't remember whether the inspector took the clothes away.
RICHARD KENNEDY . In September last I was a warder in Holloway Prison, and my duty was to see solicitors or their clerks who called—I know the prisoner—these are four requests to see persons in the prison—(produced)—they were presented by the prisoner, and all included Gourelli's name—I believed he was authorised by Mr. Cudley, and I admitted him to have an interview with the prisoner Gourelli.
Cross-examined. That was not the first time I had seen Mason, I had once seen him in the company is Mr. Cudley—I knew him as Mr. (Dudley's clerk.
CHARLES GEORGE CUDLEY . I am a solicitor, practising at 93 and 94, Chancery Lane—the prisoner was never in my actual employment—he used to make inquiries for me—I have been with him to Holloway Gaol—in September and October of last year the prisoner was in my office from time to time—I received these two letters from Baron de Gourelli—I took no notice of them—I never authorised the sending of any telegram to Gourelli—I did not authorise the prisoner to see Gourelli on my behalf—I did not in any way undertake his defence—these four orders are not in my writing—they are in the writing of the prisoner Mason—I did not authorise him to obtain any luggage of Gourelli—I did not know of his having obtained any luggage from the Covent Garden Hotel—I never received any—I did not say I was going to retain Lord Coleridge—I subsequently received a letter from Gourelli from Lewes Prison, and I made inquiries—on one occasion Mason mentioned Gourelli to me—he said I should be asked to take up the defence—I said I would rather have nothing to do with it.
Cross-examined. I do not know how the letter got into the hands of the prisoner—I did not know that he went up to Holloway—I know he went now—he went after the letters had been written—I received two letters—the prisoner was occasionally in my office for some purpose or other about the time I received these letters—I suppose he was there every day—he had no duties, really—he did not go to see Gourelli for me—he has introduced me to prisoners—I think Garry, the King's Cross
murderer, came from him—I don't know if Ivory Bill did—Heckford did—I am not so sure about Stormonth—the signature to this letter is mine—the person there described as my clerk is not the defendant—this letter (produced) is in the prisoner's writing, and is addressed to the same persons as my letter is addressed to, and refers to the matter suggested in that my letter—I still say that the prisoner did not introduce the matter of Stormonth to me, and he was never my clerk—I do not know what the warder said—I have not heard what he said—I was not in court—I did go up to Holloway with the prisoner, but he did not go into the goal with me—he made inquiries, but in no sense as my clerk or agent—he may have interviewed prisoners for me—he got my office paper by going into the office and helping himself—I did not have a quarrel with the prisoner—I found he was representing himself as my managing clerk, and obtaining money from an unfortunate woman, and I told him I would have nothing more to do with him, and he was not to come into my office again.
Re-examined. I took steps to prevent him from going to Holloway again, and I wrote to the Governor of the goal directly I found it out—I did not give the prisoner any authority to give the hotel people a receipt in my name—I have never seen anything of the portmanteau or hat box.
WILLIAM CRANSTON (Policeman) On April 23rd I charged the prisoner, and told him he would be further charged with stealing several articles of luggage belonging to Baron de Gourelli—he said, "I have nothing to say"—I told him the date, about October 13th.
Cross-examined. I think in the first place the information came from Mr. Cudley—I have seen the prisoner with Mr. Cudley.
Cross-examined. I cannot give you a list of the things which the inspector took away—I cannot swear to the box.
BARON GOURELLI (re-examined). This is my box, but there were some other things besides these in the box—there were some gloves, an overcoat, shoes, and linen—the shoes were quite new—this is the bulk of the articles—I do not know if the inspector took away the overcoat.
Cross-examined. I never said to Mason before my conviction that as I did not want the clothes he could have what he liked of them—I was not asked that at the Police-court.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
There were two other indictments for forging two orders for admission to Holloway Prison, one to see the convict Prince, and the other to see Gourelli, neither of which the prosecution proceeded with.
NEW COURT.—Monday, June 20th 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
gave me a bad 1s.—I gave her the change, though I thought it was bad—I tried it afterwards and it broke easily—I destroyed it—I said nothing to her—on May 7th she was in the house again, and my wife brought me another bad 1s.—I recognised the prisoner, and fetched a policeman, and then told her that she gave me one on Monday night—she denied that, but said that her husband gave her this one—I have no doubt she is the same person.
MARIA EATON . I am the wife of the last witness—on Saturday after noon, May 7th, the prisoner came in for a glass of ale, price 1d, and ten dered 1s.—I gave her a sixpence and five peace change, and then took the coin to my husband, who said that it was bad, and fetched a policeman—I am sure I gave her a sixpence.
CHARLES BUTT (Policeman). On May 27th I was called to this public-house, and the landlord gave the prisoner into my custody—she said that she did not know it was bad—her husband gave it to her—there was a purse in her hand with a sixpence in it and five pence, so she need not have changed the shilling—she said that she lived in a lodging-house in Brick Lane, and gave me her husband's name—I went there, but could not find him, and she was not known there—it is a common lodging-house.
GUILTY of the second uttering only. — Six Weeks' Hard Labour.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
FREDERICK WADE (City Detective). On June 4th at 3.30 p.m. I was with Bracebridge on the Viaduct Bridge, and saw Simmonds hurrying away—he went into a butter shop, looked into the street, and Davis came down in the same direction—Simmonds whistled, and they went into a private yard at the bottom of Snow Hill, and Davis took something from Simmonds hand—Davis took something from his pocket and kept rubbing it, and Simmonds took it from his hand, threw it on the ground, spat on it and rubbed it—Simmonds looked round the different bars—I went into another compartment, and received a bad florin from the barmaid—I went into the compartment, and said, "You passed counterfeit coin"—he said, "I have got no counterfeit coin, and I am no thief"—Davis was accused and arrested—Bracebridge was obliged to call a railway man to help him, as Davis was very violent—I found on him 11 shillings, 12s. 6d., forty-six pence, and nine halfpence, and on Simmonds a cake of brown soap, and there was a similar substance on the coins—they were both charged with uttering, and made no answer—they were asked their addresses, and one said that he lived at a lodging-house—I watched them half an hour.
Cross-examined by Davis. You did not mention Long Lane.
JAMES BRACEBRIDGE (Detective Officer). I was with Wade, and saw the two prisoners together—Wade came out of the Victoria—I said to Davis, "I shall arrest you for being engaged with another man in uttering counterfeit coin"—he said, "You make a mistake"—I found a cake of soap on him.
ELIZABETH ADA RICHARDS . I am the wife of John Richards, and assist him in the management of the Victoria Hotel, Charterhouse Street—on June 4th I was in the bar, and Simmonds came in for a pony of bitter, and gave me a florin—I said, "This is bad," and went to the head barman—when I came back Simmonds was gone—I saw him at the Police-court. half an hoar afterwards—he did not wait for his change, but he drank the beer.
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate.—Davis says: "I was going down Farringdon Street, and a detective came and said he wanted me for being with a man, and I don't know him at all"—Simmonds says: "I had a two shilling piece given me for some roses, and afterwards found the detective's hand on my shoulder.— GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HENRY WHITE . I live at 138, Pester Road, West Ham, and am landlord of 47, West Street, Bromley, which I let out in furnished apartments—about two months ago the prisoner hired my top back room at 6s. a week, and gave the name of Brown, a tailor—he lived there with a woman—I have been in the habit of calling there for my rent—he left on Monday, May 16th—the woman had left on the previous Saturday—she is indicted with him—she was locked up, and I told him he had better leave—as soon as he left I put a padlock on the door, but afterwards gave the key to Mrs. Smith to go in and clear the room—no one else had access to it till the police came—I then gave the key to the inspector.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was present on May 15th when you assaulted Margaret Sullivan—when she lived next door it was not with the witness Ash worth, but with another man, not the man I let the rooms to, but he was connected with you—when I went up on the Monday afternoon you were asleep, and Margaret Sullivan woke you up.
Re-examined. I have four houses—the prisoner was in No. 47, and Margaret Sullivan in No. 49.
ADA SMITH . I am the wife of Henry Smith, of 47, High Street, Bromley—on May 7th I went to clean the top-floor back room at No. 47, and saw this tablespoon, and found this packet in a saucepan—I cleaned the place and gave the key to the landlord, leaving the things where I found them—the ash-bin had been cleared on the Monday, and I was there on the Tuesday—I did not allow anybody to come into the room while I was cleaning.
MARGARET SULLIVAN . I am a machinist, of 24, Bartholomew Square—I knew prisoner at 47, High Street, Bromley for six weeks down to the time he was charged—I went there on May 16th, and had a dispute with him—I knew him living there with a woman, and have gone there to see them day by day, and have seen the prisoner making counterfeit coin, preparing
the moulds with plaister of Paris, forging the moulds—he made shillings and sixpences—I have seen him pour the metal out on them in a plate, and turn them out when they got cold, and then he rolled the mould up in a piece of cloth and took it away—I have only seen one mould there—I saw him break a mould up and throw it into the fire place because it was not a good one—I saw him make twenty sixpences in one evening, which took him two or three hours, also fourteen or fifteen shillings—the last date I saw him do this was on June 14th, in the afternoon—no one eke was present, only the baby.
Cross-examined. I was in your room on Monday, May 16th—you were lying on the bed—I went to visit Maria, whom you were living with.
JOHN ROBERT ASHWORTH . I am a carman, of 5, New Street, Aldgate, in the employ of Mr. Harris—I have been in the prisoner's company sixteen or seventeen times, and have seen him with bad shillings two or three times, but had no conversation with him about them; but I knew he had been making money—I know he went to buy the stuff in Wentworth Street—he said he was going to buy white metal spoons—these are the sort of spoons (produced)—this letter dropped from his pocket—I kept it, and it was produced at the Police-court.: "Please give bearer one pennyworth of each"—I also knew him by the name of Henry Clarke.
THOMAS NORRIS (Policeman, 313). I arrested the prisoner on May 16th for an assault—he was carrying a parcel containing a tablespoon, one old tablespoon, and two leaden spoons broken, with metal hanging to them—he was bound over for six months—there was some child's clothing in the bundle.
WILLIAM KNOTT (Police Inpector, K). Clark brought the prisoner to the station on May 17th, and while he was there Sullivan came—she made a statement in his presence, in which counterfeit coin was mentioned—he said, "You know on whose evidence you are taking me, she is a prostitute; she is not married"—he was then charged with making coin—I took her statement down in writing—it was not read to the prisoner—he heard it given and said, "I am not guilty"—I searched the top back room of 47, High Street, Bromley, which was pointed out to me, and found this saucepan in a cupboard, and this plaister of Paris—we then searched the yard, and found in the ash-bucket a quantity of pieces of moulds broken up, and one has an impression on it.
JAMES SWIRE . I am a chemist, of 224, Brick Lane, Bethnal Green—this paper (Produced) orders nitrate of silver and cyanide of potassium, a pennyworth of each, and bears the name of Clark, of Dorset Street—I suspect it has been presented at my shop and refused to be served—we always refuse unless the person comes himself—those drugs are used for plating dogs' collars and for photography—they will plate coin—I should inquire what they wanted it for, and if they said that it was for making bad money I would not sell it—he got half an ounce on April 5th—half an ounce of cyanide is a deadly dose, but a person could not get half an ounce down without dissolving it: it is solid—he also had half an ounce on the same day, which he said was for photography—I thought the prisoner
was the man when his likeness was shown to me—I cannot positively swear to him.
JOHN CLARK . I am assistant to Mr. Swire—I do not know this paper—I have seen the prisoner in the shop in the name of Edward Clark—he came in for cyanide of potassium and nitrate of silver, I have served him, and have seen Mr. Swire serve him—it is my duty to ask persons what they are going to do with it—I did so, and he said "Photographs"—he has made two or three purchases.
JOHN ROBERT CLARK (247 K). On May 17th I arrested the prisoner, and said, "I shall take you in custody"—I said nothing about making counterfeit coin—he said, "I don't know anything about it Why did not you arrest me yesterday?"
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this is a small piece of a mould—these spoons are used for melting for coining—this iron spoon is for melting metal—the cyanide of potassium and nitrate of silver are used for colouring the coins, and also for photography.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "The whole evidence against me is based on a common prostitute and a convicted thief. She is well known in Dorset Street."
Prisoner's defence. This woman knows that I have been convicted before, and it was through my striking her.
GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
ARTHUR DAVIS . I am a tram-car conductor—on the night of May 13th the prisoner got into my tram-car at Burdett Road, carrying a child—her fare was 1d.—she paid with 1s.—I had no other shilling, only sixpences and bronze—I paid my money into the office at 11.20 p.m., and the assistant inspector gave the shilling back to me, and said that it was bad—I had to bear the loss, and when I got home I threw it on the tire—on the next night the prisoner got into the car with the child about the same time, and at the same place—I recognised her—she gave me 1s.—I put it between my teeth, broke it in two, and said, "You got on my car last night, and passed a bad shilling, you will have to get out at the Police-station"—she said nothing but made two or three attempts to get out—she said that her husband gave it to her, and she did not know it was bad—I gave her in custody—I recognised her by her face, and it was the same child.
JOHN ROBERT CLARK (247 K). Davis called me to this car opposite the Police-station, and the prisoner was given into my custody for uttering a counterfeit shilling—she said nothing, but when formally charged she said, "My husband gave me the shilling at Blundell Road, I did not know it was bad"—the female searcher afterwards gave me a sixpence and a farthing—she said that she had no address—the inspector handed me this piece of coin.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, June 21st, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HARRISON Prosecuted.
JOHN BOLTON . I am a commissionaire, of 96, Industry Street, Sheffield—on April 16th I went to the London Soldiers' Home at James Street, Westminster—I had this Gladstone bag with me (produced)—I stayed the night there—I left it in the store-room—it was handed over to the porter, as I was going down to breakfast—it was locked—it contained a suit of clothes, a clarionet, eight pieces of music, shirt-fronts, and other clothes—I valued the lot at a little over £17; the clarionet at eleven guineas—the porter locked the store-room up—I missed the bag about an hour and three-quarters afterwards—when I went into the store-room it was not there—the instrument was forwarded to the regiment about a fortnight afterwards—I do not know where it came back from.
RALPH PILKINGTON . I am an army pensioner, and live at 21, Rock Street, Bury—on April 16th I left a bag at the Soldiers' Home, Westminster, locked—this is it—it contained a suit of clothes, £5 in gold, and clothes generally, and a return ticket to Bury—I valued the whole at £10—I had not slept at the Soldiers' Home on April 16th—I returned for it on April 18th—I next saw it on May 29th at the Westminster Police-court.—I identified it—I left an overcoat as well—I have got that back again—it was missing, but has been sent to me since—it was found in a pawnbroker's shop.
ALFRED PLUMB . I was porter at the Soldiers' Home, James Street, Westminster—I remember Bolton and Pilkington coming to the home—they left two bags and an overcoat with me on April 16th—I put them into the store-room, and locked it up—I last saw them safe on Sunday morning, April 17th—I know the prisoner—he had been staying at the home since April 12th—about 9.30 on April 17th he came to me, and said he wanted his umbrella out of the store-room—I was having breakfast—I came out with the intention of getting his umbrella, and he said, "I will get it out myself"—I handed him the key—I went back to finish my breakfast, and then I went outside and found the door open, and the keys in the door—two bags were gone and a coat—the prisoner's umbrella was not there—I gave a description to the police—I did not see the prisoner until some time afterwards.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not know you before you came to the solicitor's home—I had been in the habit of lending you the keys for the purpose of having a shave—it is not a usual thing—I made an exception with you—I lent you the keys every day—I had found nothing missing before—the store room was on the ground floor—I don't think I lent
the keys to others—I might have done so—I am certain I did not about that time.
By the COURT. When I lent him the keys before he brought them back.
EDWARD BARRETT (Serjeant, F). On May 29th I was in Edgware Road, and saw the prisoner on an omnibus—I ran after the 'bus, and the prisoner slid down the rail, and got into the roadway—I jumped at him, and he ducked down and threw me over his shoulder—he then ran away into Upper Berkeley Street—I blew my whistle, and cried "Stop thief"—he knew me—he was stopped by a gentleman, who struck him over the head—I came up, and said, "You know me, Mainstone; I shall take you into custody for stealing £20 and some clothes"—he said, "That is all wrong; it is not so much as that"—we took him to paddington Police-station, and read the circular over to him with his description—he said, "I am in a nice mess now. If my wife had met me I should have gone straight"—I searched him and found on him £6 10s. in gold and 2s. in silver, an umbrella, a watch and chain, two People newspapers, and a knife.
CHARLES BEARD (Serjeant, A Division). I was present when the prisoner was charged on May 29th—he made no reply—he gave an address 23, Crickleton Road, Maida Yale—I went there and found this portmanteau, which has been identified by Bolton—when I returned to Rochester Row I said I had only found one bag—he said, "If you go to Cannon Street Hotel you will find the other. I stayed there one day"—I went there, and Pilkington's bag was given me by the manager—I did not find the pawnticket on him.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that the Soldiers' Home is a place to which anyone who knows it has access, and one can get in without ladging there. He had stayed there five days, and the porter had lent him his keys, and nothing had been stolen, and on the Sunday he asked the porter to lend him the keys to get his umbrella. Whilst in the storeroom a civilian came in, who he thought was lodging there, who said he had seen the porter, and he would give him back the keys, so the prisoner came out, leaving him in the store-room. The prisoner had not gone far when the same man came up; he had two portmanteaux and overcoat. He said he was going to Paddington Station, and so they walked together, and the man told the prisoner that he was hard up, and asked the prisoner to lend him 25s. The prisoner said it was rather a strange request, but the other man said he was willing to leave the bags and coat as a security. He lent the man the 25s., and gave him his address, but during the day he received a wire saying the man did not intend reclaiming them.
GUILTY .—There were two other indictments, which the prosecution did not proceed with. The prisoner then pleaded guilty to having been convicted of felony on July 10th, 1891, in the name of Patrick Lovell. Numerous convictions against the prisoner were also proved.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BOYD Prosecuted.
(read): "Sir,—May I ask you to bear with me while I explain what led me to do this? Previous to going to the Hospital I was in great anxiety as to how to make both ends meet. I was tempted to change the cheque, and I am sorry to say that I acceded to such a temptation. In view of the misery and trouble we have had to undergo during the past few weeks, may I ask you to deal leniently with me and my wife?"
The Prisoner. After the other clerks in the office had gone out someone asked me to change this cheque, although I knew it to be forged.
The JURY thereupon returned a verdict of
The prisoner then pleaded guilty to a conviction of felony on February 26th, 1896. There were also numerous other convictions proved against him.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
FREDERICK CHARLES SMITH . I am employed at Market Street, City, and live at Highgate—on May 31st I was outside St. Martin's Church, with my wife waiting for an omnibus—the prisoner and another man pushed between me and my wife, and as he passed me his hand went up in front of my tie, and I said to my wife, "That man has got my pin," he ran round the omnibus immediately—I ran after him and caught him about three or four yards off—he said I had made a mistake—he struggled and got away—I caught him again, and he knocked me down and then ran towards St. Martin's Place, I caught him again and held him till assistance came—I was never more than three or four feet behind him—I have not the least doubt that he is the man—that is the pin I was wearing at the time (produced)—it is worth £5.
Cross-examined. When we were waiting for the omnibus we were facing it—it was a few minutes past eleven—there were other persons waiting for the omnibus—there may have been more than ten people—the man who stole my pin came from St. Martin's Place, and passed in front of me—we were on the church side of St. Martin's Lane on the steps facing the roadway—the prisoner had a mackintosh on with a cape—he was the one who took my pin—we were standing side by side on the pavement—I did not see where the men came from until they passed between us—I do not remember if my wife was on my right or left—we were standing still, but we had to move to allow the prisoner and the other man to pass between us—he pushed between us and nearly pushed my wife over, and then made towards the road—he came from the direction of the railings of the church—there was enough light there to allow me to recognise the face of the prisoner—it is fairly well lighted—I said at once, "That man has got my pin"—the thief turned in the direction of the roadway, and went round the 'bus that was standing there—he went round by the horses, and I followed—when he said, "You have made a mistake" he threw off his mackintosh, and gave it to the man with him—I told the inspector that before—I did not say that the man wore a mackintosh and a cape, and that I saw him pass the pin to another man—I imagined that he had
passed the pin to the other man, but I did not say so—I told the inspector that one man was wearing a mackintosh—the other man disappeared.
ALFRED JOEL (193 C). On May 31st, about 11.5, I was on duty in St. Martin's Place—I heard a woman scream, and on going in the direction I found the prisoner being detained by the last witness, who gave him into custody for stealing a pin from his tie, and also assaulting him—the prisoner said, "You have made a mistake"—I took him to Bow Street Station—he made no statement there—I then went back to St. Martin's Place and searched there for some time, but could not find the pin, and returned again when it was light, and found it—about four o'clock in the morning—there are two diamonds missing—this is the pin (produced).
Cross-examined. The prisoner said the prosecutor had made a mistake—he said when he was given into my custody that he had had a cape on, and that he had thrown it off and handed it to another man—the inspector at the station asked if the pin had been found—the prosecutor said he believed it had been passed to the other man—he said that to me, not to the inspector on duty—it is not very well lighted by the church—at eleven o'clock there are a good many people about, waiting for omnibuses—they start from both sides of the street.
CAROLINE SMITH . I am the wife of the prosecutor, and was with him on the night of May 31st outside St. Martin's Church—the prisoner pushed between me and my husband—I do not know if he was alone—and as he did so he put his hand up, and immediately my husband said, "That man has got my pin"—the prisoner was beginning to turn—the prisoner ran away, and my husband after him—I then saw my husband in the road, coming round the other side of a 'bus—I then lost sight of them—I was standing on the kerb with the child—I waited at the railings until I saw my husband with the prisoner—the prisoner is the man who put his hand up and took the pin.
Cross-examined. The railings were near the place of the robbery—the prisoner must have gone round the 'bus—we were not facing the roadway, we were standing together, but the prisoner pushed so violently that we had to separate—we were looking out for an omnibus—I did not notice the prisoner till then—I only saw the man for a short time, but I recognise him—when we were going to the station, I noticed the prisoner was not wearing a cape or mackintosh, and I said to my husband, "The man had a mackintosh on," and my husband said, "I suppose he threw it away"—the inspector asked if the pin had been found—I do not remember my husband saying, "No, he has passed it to the other man"—I had not seen a second man—it is rather a dark place there.
By the COURT. My husband said on the way to the station, "I suppose he has thrown the mackintosh to the other man, and stuck the pin in it."
GUILTY .—He was further charged with a conviction of felony on November 24th, 1890, to which he pleaded guilty. Eight other convictions ware proved against him.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CHARLES MATHEWS and MCMAHON Prosecuted, and MESSRS.
BIRON and CHALMERS Defended.
After the case had proceeded for some time the prisoners
PLEADED GUILTY .— To enter into Recognizances to appear for judgment.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, June 21st, 1898,
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
416. CHARLES SKEFFINGTON (17) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of a pencil case. He received a good character, and his father undertook to send him to his aunt at Bournemouth.— Discharged on Recognizances. And
417. GEORGE BREBION (26) to two indictments for stealing bicycles of Albert May and Sylvanus Welch; also, with JULES RENARD (32) , to stealing two other bicycles, Renard having been convicted on December 24th, 1896. BREBION— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. RENARD—> Twenty Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
The prisoner stated that he was
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding, upon which the JURY found that verdict, and MR. WARBURTON, who appeared for the defence, stated that the prosecutrix, who was the prisoner's wife, admitted before the Magistrate that—she had destroyed some of his property.— Judgment respited.
MARION LAWRENCE . I assist my father in his public-house, 72, Barnet Grove, Bethnal Green—on May 23rd my sister and I were in Bethnal Green Road, near the Post Office—I saw six or seven persons standing there, all about the same stamp, and the prisoner was one of them—he was the only one who faced me—he looked me up and down—I was wearing a gold watch and gold Albert chain—as I got near them one of them struck me a Severe blow in the pit of my stomach, which doubled me up, and my chain was taken—the prisoner and his companions all ran down the street—we followed them and saw them go into a house—I had seen a lot of them about before—my sister told a constable, and two days afterwards I picked the prisoner out from others—I have not recovered my chain.
BEATRICE LAWRENCE . I am a sister of the last witness—on May 23rd about nine o'clock I was walking with her, and saw some youths near the Post Office—the prisoner was one of them—his face was towards me, and I saw him looking at us—I saw my sister assaulted, and her chain snatched from her by one of the gang, of which the prisoner was one—I
followed him and saw him go into a house on the right—I informed a constable—I picked him out two days afterwards.
ROBERT TYSON (Defective H). On May 25th I was in Bethnal Green Road and saw the prisoner—I said that I should take him on suspicion of stealing a lady's chain on the 23rd—on the way to the station he said, "For that ladys chain?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I was there, but I did not do it. I shall come copper"—I took him to the station, placed him with about nine others, and the prosecutrix and her sister identified him separately—after which he said that he did not do it, but could tell her who did, and said, "Did you not see me in the crowd?"
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Worship Street on October 23rd, 1897, and another conviction was proved against him, both for snatching watches.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WALKER Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended Roberto.
CHARLES WILLIAM PARSONS . I am secretary to Nicholson's Whart, Limited—it is a corporated company—the prisoner Lumley was employed as delivery foreman there—he had to give out orders that had been presented to the office and duly certified to, but should not do so unless certified to—he has been there about four years, and should be well acquainted with the practice—he also had to take the order for goods and file it, which is afterwards passed back to the office—Mr. Brete, the clerk, would also know about that—I did not see these goods taken away, but my attention was called to it about 2.30 on May 17th, and I spoke to Lumley at the time—I asked him if he had delivered any almonds that day—at first he said no, but afterwards said he had delivered two bales from the A floor—I asked him to whose order, and he said to Peat Brothers' order, which he said he had put on his desk—he failed to produce it—the bales were on the A floor, lying to the order of Peat Brothers and Wynch—we have endeavoured to trace the bales, and failed—he said that the order had been lost, but I subsequently made inquiries, and there was no entry in the books—he said he had filed the receipt—there was no such receipt in existence.
Cross-examined by Lumley. The receipt was on the back of the order, and if one was lost the other would be—I was not aware that from 1.15 to 3.40 you were away—if the printed form was presented to you, with the full particulars of the goods and their description, and the official stamp "deliver" on it, you would be quite in order in delivering on that order—you knew in this case the order was to Peat Brothers, because you told me—I think it was because the man who saw the transaction did not like to come forward at once that I did not tell you of the matter till two hours and a half after.
By the COURT. There is a wire file, where he should have filed the orders—there were other goods delivered on that day—they were all in proper order—the prisoner was absent in the middle of the day, but only for lunch—the warehouse-keeper took his place—he is not here.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. A man coming for goods would
first see the clerk in the office—he would take the order to the warehouse-keeper—I know that a man never takes it to the delivery foreman and then to the office—I can state as a fact that to my knowledge no one has done that during the last four or five years—Roberts came there very seldom—there is a man named Half yard there—he is a beadle—he saw Roberts and had a conversation with him, I believe—Roberts could not know where the almonds were until he had been to the office—if he had hid previous communication with the foreman he would know—the clerk in charge would stamp the order.
Re-examined. The men generally all go to lunch at the same time, and business is practically suspended from 12 and 12.30.
FRANCIS WILLIAM BRETE . I am a clerk at Nicholson's Wharf—I have charge of the order-book, and all orders for A floor come to me—no such order as this one came to me on May 17th, or any receipt—this is the book in which I enter any orders (produced)—sometimes the carman might take the order to the warehouse, and the foreman might take it over to the office.
Cross-examined by Lumley. I have an assistant who signs orders for almonds—I do not think it would be possible for him to pass an order without entering it in this book—I dare say there has been a case when the delivery foreman could not find an order, and it was found to be a mistake in the office, but this is a mistake in another direction.
MATHEW BURNS . I am buyer to Peat Brothers—we have bags of almonds at Nicholson's Wharf—I should give instructions that they would be delivered over to us, and the orders would be signed by one of the directors—no such order has passed from us with regard to these almonds.
JOHN SHAY . I am warehouse foreman at Nicholson's Wharf—I was on the premises on May 17th at 12.30—I had been out to dinner, and I was standing by the top gate smoking my pipe—my suspicions were aroused by seeing Roberts coming in, and a cart driven by a carman, and I saw the delivery foreman waving his hand and pointing to the gateway down by the wharf, and Roberts waved his hand to the carman—I saw Roberts talking to Mr. Halfyard, and the van standing outside the warehouse door, and I went up to see the warehousekeeper—I saw two bales of almonds put into the van—three men put them in—I saw Lumley from the warehouse door—he was standing at the back of the van—I saw everything that was going on between Lumley and Roberts—I was right over their heads—I saw nothing signed—I told Mr. Parsons what I had seen.
Cross-examined by Lumley. I did not see Roberta sign an order—I went to the warehouse-keeper, and he took me to see Mr. Parsons.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I cannot say if Roberts had an opportunity of speaking to Halfyard after he had motioned to the carman—Roberts went down to the entrance of the gateway, and met Halfyard there—I don't know if he had been with Halfyard before he got to the A wharf—the men who put the bags into the cart were under the delivery foreman.
Re-examined. I must have seen it if Roberts had signed anything.
May 17th, at 12.30, I saw Roberts in the company of another man—he was at the bottom of the gateway—I was standing there—I said, "What are you after?"—he said, "Two bales of almonds"—I said, "Do you how where they are coming from?"—he said, "Yes, from A floor"—I have seen him a few times—there was a name on his van—I sent him round to the corner to the A floor—in about ten minutes the foreman came down out of the warehouse and delivered two bales of almonds—I saw them—I saw the gang which works under Lumley—I had two or three conversations with him, and Roberts was there—a man was driving.
Cross-examined by Lumley. I did not see Roberts sign for the almonds—he was close by the horse when I first saw him, and the A wharf was close by—I told him where to go—he answered my questions at once—there was no shuffling, nothing suspicious whatever—I have been there seven years—I am there to detect anything that may go wrong.
By the COURT. Each carman gets his order stamped on arrival at the wharf—I do not know if it was done in this case.
JESSE CROUCH (Detective Serjeant, City). I saw Roberts on May 17th at his house—I told him I was a police-officer, and that he would be charged with Lumley with stealing and receiving two bales of almonds from Nicholson's Wharf—he said, "Oh!"—I searched his premises, but finding that the goods were of such an inflammable nature, I thought it best to leave the search, till the next day—I should have had to have a light; it was about 7.15 then—I went next morning, but found no almonds.
MATHEW BURNE (re-examined). Roberts was not in our employ, I never saw him till I saw him at the Mansion House—the order was made out by our carman—nobody was with him—I know nothing about Roberts—he had no authority to collect almonds on our account.
Lumley, in his defence, said that on May 17th he returned from dinner at 12.45, and there were three delivery orders on his desk, that he delivered the two small ones, and then left his desk to go to load the sponges, and returned about 3.30, when Mr. Parsons asked him if he had delivered any almonds, that lie said he had, and that the order was on his desk, that it could not be found, and he did not think he should be held responsible for its loss, and if the matter had been reported at once to Mr. Parsons it could have been settled.
GUILTY .—Lumley then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on April 10th, 1894. LUMLEY— Three Years' Penal Servitude. ROBERTS— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, June 22nd, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and HORACE AVORY Prosecuted.
ALICE DUNKLEY . I am the wife of Edward Dunkley, of Hackney—on May 2nd, between 9.30 and 10 at night, I was standing at my gate, and saw the prisoner walking up and down near the house with a baby in her arms—it was quiet—she did not go many yards—before she turned to the towing path she crossed over the railings and jumped into the canal.
HERBERT REED . I live at Ash Grove, Hackney—I was playing outside the Iron Arms on this night, and saw the prisoner jump into the canal—she looked round before she jumped—she had a baby in her arms—a man came and got her out—it was then dead.
HENRY BIRD . I am a painter's labourer, and live at Hackney—on the evening of May 2nd I was in the Iron Arms public-house—in consequence of a cry for help I went on to the towing path, and plunged into the water—I did not see anybody before I plunged in—I saw the prisoner there, and I rescued her and brought her on to the bank, and gave her artificial respiration and brought her to—she was unconscious when she was got out—the water was about six feet deep at the side, but where she was it was about seven—she was about eighteen feet from the bank—I saw nothing of the child—it was not in her arms when I first caught hold of her.
ALBERT ROGERS . I am fourteen years old—I did live at 21, Russia Lane, Old Ford Road—I had a brother named Leonard—a year old—I was in employment, earning 5s. a week—on the afternoon of April 13th, when I came home, I saw my mother with the baby—she said, "If your brother comes in, will you tell him I shall not be long?"—she then went away—I did not see her again for some days—I afterwards sent the clothes to my brother.
ELLEN WESTON . I am the wife of John Weston, of 21, Russia Lane, Old Ford—the prisoner lived in my house four or five years with her family and husband—he was a sawyer—he was in work in April and May—there were four children living—Leonard was born on May 25th last year—had he lived till May 12th he would have been fourteen months old—I was told that she was forty-six years old when she had the baby—she said she was forty-two—the child was perfectly healthy up to April 30th—I last saw her about Saturday, April 30th, about one o'clock—she had not the child with her then—she had been drinking—I aid not see her after three in the afternoon—I heard her in the house—she left just after three on Saturday, and did not come back—she sent the little lad out with the child, and she followed—she was away with the child from the Saturday afternoon—she had been drinking on the Saturday—she was an habitual drunkard ever since she lived in the house—five years—her conduct towards her children was very good indeed—she was very fond of the child Leonard.
RICHARD MACNAMARA (368 J). On the night of May 2nd, about half-past nine, my attention was called to the prisoner on the towing path of the canal—she was in company of the man Bird, who pulled her out—I
sent for a doctor, and took her to the London Hospital—she was in a very excited condition—in going there in a cab she muttered, "Trouble, trouble, trouble," three times—that was all she said.
ALFRED TUNSTALL , M. D., F. R. C. S. On May 2nd, about half-past nine, I saw the prisoner on the towing path of the canal—she had just been removed from the water—she was throwing herself about a good deal, and muttering unintelligibly in an excited condition—I could not see any sign of drink—I did not examine her specially for that—my attention was directed to bringing her round—I had her removed into the Iron Arms—subsequently she was taken to the hospital—I afterwards saw the body of the child—it was then dead—I tried artificial respiration to restore it.
RICHARD NURSEY (Police Serjeant, J). On May 9th I saw the prisoner at the London Hospital—I told her I was a police officer, and she would be charged with attempting to commit suicide—she said, "I am not obliged to say anything," and she said nothing—I found on her a purse and a piece of paper with her name and address on—I charged her with murdering her child—the path by the canal is not used much by the public—it is railed off about two feet four inches.
Prisoner's defence: It was not wilfully done. I did not throw the child in. I intended to be home by eight. I heard two young women say it was a quarter-past nine. The constable passed me and looked at me. If it had not been for that I should not have done it. I am deaf. I heard a noise, and looking round to see what it was, I pushed forward and I fell in.
GUILTY .— Two Months' without Hard Labour.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and BODKIN Prosecuted, and MR. PICKERSGILL Defended, at the request of the Court.
WILLIAM GABRIEL HOOPER (Police Inspector). On March 19th I received information of a burglary at Upton Hall, Northampton—I made inquiries, the result of which led me to Shrington Street, Leicester, on the morning of March 22nd—up to that time I had not received any warrant—at that house I saw the prisoner—it was after dark—the room was lighted—the prisoner was lying on a couch with his head enveloped in bandages—he asked me what I wanted—I told him we were police officers, and were going to search his house—he said, "You can do so with pleasure, but I suppose you have an authority for so doing"—I said, "Certainly"—he said, "Then I will show you a light"—he then took alighted lamp from off the table and proceeded to the staircase, and he raised the lamp and threw it at my face—I ducked my head, and the lamp struck me on the right shoulder—the lamp exploded in the room, and we were all in darkness—I wrestled with the prisoner at the staircase, and caught him by the bottom of his trouser leg as he was going up the stairs—I had only got about two inches of the cloth in my hand—he gave a jerk, and ran upstairs, ran along the passage and jumped out of the back bed-room window, and got away—I then proceeded to search the house—I found a set of burglar's tools, including a dark lantern, a large
dagger, a loaded revolver, an air pistol, and a large horse pistol, a breechloader not loaded—the revolver was a six-chamber, fully loaded—I found that in his coal pocket, which was hanging on the staircase where the straggle took place—I found in the house a quantity of property—I found the whole of the proceeds of the Upton Hall burglary—I took possession of the things—it was jewellery and wearing apparel—I looked out of the window out of which the prisoner had got—beneath it was a clay pit at the back of the house; but first there was a wash-house about fifteen feet from the ground—I made further inquiries, and afterwards I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—this is it—it is for the arrest of William Foster, alias four other names, the name of Baker among them—I had reason to believe the prisoner's name was Foster—I am not aware that he had gone by the other names—on March 1st I came up to London, and was here continually prosecuting my inquiries—on March 17th I was in company of Detective Powell in Seymour Street—we were both in plain clothes—we kept observation on 118, Seymour Street, a newspaper shop—after a little while I saw the prisoner come to the shop—I recognised him at once as the man I had seen in Sherington Street—I went into the shop and spoke to him—I told him we were two police officers, and I held a warrant for his arrest in commiting a burglary at Upton Hall, near Northampton—I caught hold of him by the shoulders—he struggled violently—I was trying to search his pocket—he became violent, a crowd assembled near the shop, and the only possible chance I had of getting him was to get him into a four-wheeled cab close by—before we got him into the cab a uniform constable named Brooks came up, and he assisted us in keeping the prisoner—I told him that we were police officers, and I was arresting him for burglary, and then he helped us—we had to use handcuffs—a pair of snips was got on to his left hand—Powell had them—he got first into the cab—I got in afterwards, and sat down on the hack seat with the prisoner—he sat on the seat facing the horse—I was sitting on his right—three of us were on the same seat—the prisoner was still struggling violently—sometimes one officer was on one seat, and sometimes on the other, struggling with the prisoner—after I had got in Brooks sat facing the prisoner with his back to the horse—the cab started for the Police-station in Platt Street—on the way the prisoner fired the revolver five times—I could not see where he got it from—I think he got it down his sleeve—it was dark—I could not see it—we could only see the flash from it—the first shot struck Constable Brooke's left arm—the second shot struck his arm—they were fired in rapid succession—the third shot struck me in the chest, and the fourth struck Brooks again—I could not say where the fifth shot went—a bullet was picked up afterwards—Brooke's truncheon was used by me and Powell—I struck the prisoner with it—we got to Somers Town Police-station at last—the struggling did not continue all the way—he kept quiet, and said, "Let me die"—that was when we got near the station—when we got to the station he was taken out of the cab into the station—the revolver was found in the cab—the inspector had it—all the chambers had been discharged—this is the revolver and the empty cartridges—the bullets were found in the cab—I had a mackintosh on—I took it off at the station, and unbuttoned
my clothes, and a bullet dropped from the clothes—when I opened my shirt I saw something sticking there, and as I unbuttoned my necktie the bullet dropped from it—there are some little marks on the bullet—I had a wound in my chest—I was attended by the divisional surgeon, Mr. Thompson, and was dressed—the bullet went through the double thickness of my overcoat and waistcoat, and also through the double thickness of the mackintosh—I was present when the prisoner was charged later on the same evening with attempting to murder Brooks and myself—he made no reply to that.
Cross-examined. When I saw the prisoner at Leicester with his head in bandages he said he was a martyr to neuralgia—he said, "I suppose you have an authority for searching the house?"—I said "Certainly"—when I saw the prisoner in the shop in Seymour Street he was talking to the landlady—I am not aware that the landlady is here—no one is here who was in the shop but the police—the crowd outside was very disorderly while we were in the cab—I did not say to Brooks, "Brain him! It is our only chance"—I did not urge the use of the truncheon.
THOMAS POWELL (Detective, Y). On the night of May 17th I was with Inspector Hooper keeping observation of 118, Seymour Street—I saw the prisoner enter the shop—I followed Hooper—he said, "We are police officers; we have a warrant for your arrest"—he said, "What does all this mean?"—I said, "For committing a burglary at Upton Hall, Nor thampton"—he kicked me backwards on the shin—I then struck him with my left fist and closed with him—he then began to be very violent—Hooper handed the prisoner's right arm over to Brooks, and he took the snips from his left pocket, and placed them on his wrist—he said he was innocent—we had great difficulty in getting him into the cab—as soon as the cab started there was a scrimmage, and the prisoner at once fired three shots—I saw three flashes—Hooper was endeavouring to hold him on the right side, but he plunged about so, and the night was so dark, I could not see where he got the revolver from—I saw the three flashes when the revolver was in his right hand—Brooks was on the opposite side to the prisoner—there were five shots fired altogether—after some had been fired he was struck with the truncheon—Brooks struck him first—I think after he had fired the second shot—I then hit his hand, and I believe I hit the revolver also and it fell down, or he dropped it—we afterwards got him to the station—he was there searched, and I found on him fourteen cartridges, £3 10s. in gold, a ticket of the Great Western Railway for property, which I went and claimed—I also found a centre piece, a chisel, and some newspaper extracts relating to the Upton Hall affair, and other things used by burglars.
FREDERICK BROOKS (129 Y). On the night of May 17th I was on duty in uniform in Somers Town—I was called to a newspaper shop—I saw the prisoner and the two witnesses, Powell and Hooper—they were arresting the prisoner—we all four got into a four-wheel cab—when we had driven a short distance I heard a report and saw a flash—I felt a pain in my right arm—I hit the prisoner several times over the head with my truncheon—while I was doing it I received a second shot in the right wrist, and shortly afterwards I received a fourth shot in the arm, and a fifth in the chest, on the right nipple—I received four out of the five—
the most serious one was the one on the chest—I was seen by the divisional surgeon at the station, and was taken to the hospital—I was an in-patient till May 30th, and am still an out-patient—I feel the effects of the wounds in the left arm and chest still.
Cross-examined. When I went to the shop I found Hooper and Powell struggling with the prisoner—when in the cab I did not hear the police officer say, "Brain him! It is our only chance."
JOHN THOMPSON . I am divisional surgeon to the Y Division, and live at 70, Oakley Square—on May 17th I was called about 9.30 to Somers Town Police-station—I saw and examined constable Brooks—I found a bullet wound between the wrist and the elbow of the left arm, and another on the right wrist—the bullet had come out on the same side, but lower down—on the chest about 2 1/2 ins. from the left nipple and a little below there was another wound—it was a serious wound—I examined the wound as far as I thought I was justified in doing so at the time, but he was in a state of collapse, and in a very dangerous condition—I remained with him for three hours—he was then strong enough to be sent to the University College Hospital—there was also bruising by the right nipple—it might have been caused by a bullet which had not penetrated—I also examined the prisoner—he had some scalp wounds, such as would be caused by a policeman's truncheon.
Cross-examined. There were wounds on the right and left of his head.
CAMPBELL DYKES . I was house-surgeon at the University College Hospital, Gower Street—about one a.m. on May 18th constable Brooke was brought on an ambulance to the hospital—he was suffering from shock, and he was in a state of collapse—I examined the wound on the left fore-arm—I found beneath a second wound, which had been caused by the same bullet—the bullet was extracted that night—I found no bullet in the wound in the chest—in my opinion I here is no bullet there now—it has been photographed—he was an in-patient till May 30th—he was in a serious condition at first, in danger of his life—he made a very good recovery—at the Police-court. I said I thought there would not be permanent injury, but I think now that there is a chance of loss of feeling in the arm, which I did not anticipate.
Cross-examined. I said before that all Brooke's wounds were now healing satisfactorily.
Before the Magistrate the Prisoner said: "I reserve all I have to say, and reserve all witnesses I have to call."
GUILTY .— Penal Servitude for Life.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, June 22nd, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
423. JACOB WEIDNER, otherwise known as JACOB VON BURKHARDT , PLEADED GUILTY to burglary on April 16th, in the dwelling-house of John Cranston, and stealing the goods and moneys of Lucy Louisa Painter; also to stealing goods and moneys of Laurie Carleton from her person; also to burglary in dwelling-house of Thomas John George Hall Darnell and stealing his goods and goods of Albino Cattaneo; also
MESSRS. RICHARDS and SLOPER Prosecuted.
LILIAN HEPBURN BIRCHLEY . My father keeps the Havelock coffee-house, Worthing—on Saturday evening, April 16th, Mason and another man came there, and took a bedroom for two, but the other man did not sleep there on the Sunday—Mason ordered breakfast on the Monday morning, but had not time to have it, he left about eight o'clock—I saw him last about tea-time—he did not say where he had been, but he had said that he was going to Brighton—when he came back a policeman called and spoke to my mother and me, and while he was speaking Mason came back and saw the policeman—he went out again while the policeman was in the house, and did not return—I found a coat and trousers in his room, and a bottle of poison, and some salts of lemon.
Cross-examined by Mason. I saw Davis—you arrived about five o'clock, and the other man about seven—you asked me to cash a moneyorder.
HANNAH BIRCHLEY . I am the mother of the last witness, and landlady of the Havelock coffee-house, Worthing—I saw the prisoners there on Saturday 16th—Mason engaged a room, and I saw him again later in the evening when I took their supper up.
Cross-examined by Davis. I recognise you.
EVELIN FRANCES CASS . I am a Post Office clerk at Worthing—eight a.m. is the earliest time we issue orders—on April 18th I issued four orders to the prisoner Davis, two for 4s. each and two for 3s., 47-6-87-88 and 89—I identify them not only by their numbers, but by the advice note, which is written on carbolic paper—No. 4789 was for 3s.—it was on the Chester Post Office—it is now for £10 payable at Birmingham—some of the writing now on it is mine—No. 4786 and 4787 are now for £10 each payable at Birmingham—4788 was for 4s. on the Post Office at Clifton—it now stands for £10 at Birmingham—this one 3s. is my writing—all those orders are in the name of J. Biles.
Cross-examined by Mason. I identify Davis as obtaining all four orders at the same time.
JOHN PLACE . I am an optician of Booth Street, Birmingham—on April 19th I sold a model engine for £3 10s. to the best of my knowledge to Mason—this is it (produced)—he tendered me this Post Office order for £Q—it was endorsed "Morley" when I received it—I handed it to my assistant and ordered him to give change—it was paid away with an account.
Cross-examined by Davis. It was paid away either on the 19th or 20th, to the best of my knowledge on the 19th; not early, but between 8 and 9 o'clock.
Cross-examined by Mason. My step-daughter was in the shop, but I took the engine out and took the order and paid you the balance—I did not pick you out from a number of others, but there is no doubt you are the man.
HENRY LLOYD JEFFREYS . I am assistant to Norman Phillips, a hatter, of New Street, Birmingham—on April 19th the prisoner Davis came and bought a hat, and gave me this Post Office order for £10 (produced)—the things came to £2 0s. 6d.—I consulted Mr. Harper, and gave the man the change—he gave the name of Morley, which my governor wrote on the back—I saw the man again in the shop the next morning, and I afterwards picked him out from thirty others at Bow Street Police-station.
WILLIAM HENRY BUCHAN . I am manager to Messrs. Hobday, jewellers, of Birmingham—on April 10th I sold Davis a gold chain for £10 15s.—he gave me a money order for £10 and 15s. in cash, saying that he had not sufficient gold—I noticed that he signed his name at the top, and I preferred his signing at the bottom, and sent the porter after him, and he came back and wrote his name again at the bottom—I have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined by Mason. It is signed "J. Morley."
CHARLES HENDERSON STEWART . I am a decorator, of 43, Harrow Road, which is a shop and private house—on May 10th Mason came and I let him a basement room as a workshop—it was not attached to the house—we agreed as to the rent—he gave me this card with the name of Mordicant on it, and I gave him a key—I afterwards pointed out the room to Serjeant Butler, went in with him, and saw this engine, some gutta-percha tube and a bottle.
Cross-examined by Mason. I was constantly in the habit of coming down to the work-shop—it is four feet from the room you occupied—I saw your invention—you said that the engine was for making machines, but I did not understand it—I never saw you use any bottles of chemicals—I did not see a money order in your possession—I never saw Davis there.
EDWIN BUTLER (Post Office Serjeant). On May 5th I went with Hurst to Long Lane, Smithfield, and found Mason in bed—I said, "You answer the description of one of two men who have been going about the country uttering forged money orders, and I am going to take you in custody"—he said, "I don't understand what you mean"—I said, "A number of orders have been issued at London, Birmingham, Derby, and Chesterfield"—he said, "I met a friend in London, and went with him to all the places you have named; what he has done I do not know"—I asked his friend's name—he said, "Albert Davis"—I searched the room, and in this black bag I found this revolver fully loaded, and a silver watch chain and match-box, and in his bed the constable found a gold signet ring and a gold Albert chain—I found in his pocket some visiting cards in the name of Mordicant—I said, "There was a silver article "; he said, "Davis has that"—I said, "A silk hat was purchased by one "; he said, "Davis has that"—I said, "A fiddle bow?"; he said, "Davis has that"—I said, "A revolver?" he said, "Davis has that; have you arrested my friend"—I said, "No"—he said, "I think you ought to?"—I had seen him leave about 9.30—I took him to the station—I went next morning to 43, Harrow Road, where Stewart showed me a room—one of these keys fitted the door, and the other the cupboard—I found this model engine, and these two bottles,
with tubes labelled A and B, some visiting cards, the same as the others and an exercise book—I experimented with the liquid on a money order, which was issued to me in the usual way at the General Post Office, and the ink was entirely removed and it became a blank order—I went to his brother at 87, Goswell Road who showed me some parcels, which he had been taking care of for him, in which I found this red revolver box bearing the same number as the revolver—when I spoke to the brother he had another revolver on him.
Cross-examined by Mason. When I arrested you you told me that you had another revolver locked up in the dressing-table—you said at the station that you had his address 43, Harrow Road—you did not say so in the room—you said that you had seen the hat and other things—you had no money orders in your possession—there was a type-writing machine at your address, and I found this type-written letter there without a date. (This was signed "F" asking some one to run down to Derby, and get as much cash as he could.)—we had many complaints before May.
Re-examined. The "M" in this letter is just the same as the "M" in the letter just read.
HERBERT WESTON . I am a gunmaker, of 16, New Road, Brighton—on April 18th Davis purchased a revolver of me—it has on it "Spring and Walton, Massachusets," and the number on it corresponds with the number on the bottom of the box—the price was £4—David gave me a Post Office order for £10, and I gave him the change.
Cross-examined by Davis. To the best of my belief you are the man, and after I heard your voice at the Police court I swore to you.
WILLIAM MORRELL (Detective Inspector, York). In consequence of a telegram I received from Sheffield, I looked out forman, and five minutes afterwards saw Davis in Stoney Street, about 6.25 p.m. coming in a direction from the General Post Office, wearing a brown hat—he went into High Street, and I lost sight of him, but saw him again coming out of a passage eight or nine minutes' walk off, and then wearing this cap—I went behind him, pinned his arms behind him, and said, "Davis, you are done, I am going to take you to the station"—he tried to get his arms loose; I held him, and at the station I said, "You had better take that revolver from his pocket"—it was in his trousers' pocket fastened by a chain round his waist—this is it (produced)—he said, "If you had not seized me in the way you did I should have prevented you; I intended to use the revolver"—it was loaded in five chambers—I found on him a pocket-book with three Post Office orders issued that day, and a silver watch and gold chain—I went to the National Restaurant, searched a bed-room, and found a tin vessel of liquid and a brown felt hat—I afterwards said to him, "I have been to the National Restaurant, and found a brown felt hat and a tin utensil"—he said, "That is right; the hat belongs to me"—I took him before a Magistrate next morning.
23rd I went to Sheffield, and telephoned to York—I went there next morning, and found Davis in custody—he was handed over to me with a revolver, three money orders, and some bottles of liquid—I brought him to London with Brooks—he was charged at the station, and gave, his address 108, Eyne Street, Sheffield—on the road from York he said, "What Police-station are you going to take me to?"—I said, "King Street"—he said, "What Court?"—I said, "Westminster, and you will no doubt he brought up on Friday, with Mason"—he said, "What! have you got Mason?"—I said, "Yes"—I searched his address at Sheffield, and found in one of his wife's bags two letters addressed to Miss W. Wilson, in one of which I found money orders for 1s., 2s., and 1s. 6d., issued at Blackpool on May 21st—(Letter read: "Dear Minnie,—I enclose three orders; I will tell you where to bring them on Monday.—Your affectionate husband, Albert.")—I also found some chemicals and a revolver fully loaded—I showed the letters to Davis—he said, "Where did you get them?"—I said, "From your wife's bag," and produced the three money orders—he said, "My God, can't you destroy them"—I said, "No"—he said, "I hope you won't drag her into it"—the York police handed me a bottle of liquid—I tried it on a money order for 1s., which I bought, and the liquid took the writing out almost immediately, but in a day or two it turned yellow—I discovered that the mail-card had been obtained from Manchester with a forged order.
Cross-examined by Davis. I applied the liquid with a small gambrush, and it can be done now (Applying the liquid at Davis's request to a Post Office order.)—the name has now disappeared—I swear that I have put nothing to the liquid; it is exactly as it was when it was handed to me by Morrell.
FREDERICK BROOKS (Police Officer attached to the Post Office). I accompanied Hurst from York to London with Davis, and heard the conversation—I searched Davis's house at Sheffield, and found 3s. 4d. between the bed and the mattress.
Evidence for Mason's Defence.
FLORENCE MORRIS . I live with my stepfather, an optician, at Birmingham—on April 19th, in the afternoon, a man came into the shop and talked to me some time, and bought an engine—my stepfather was not present—I do not think Morris is the man; I should not like to swear it—I think Davis is more like the man—I believe this is the engine, but it has no mark on it.
By the COURT. I am not sure that the man who fetched the engine the next morning was the same person.
Cross-examined by Davis. The man was like you—I am subpœnaed by Morris.
WILLIAM MASON (re-examined). Davis was introduced to me on the Embankment one Sunday afternoon—he told me he was an engineer, and that he had been engaged for some years on an invention for the manufacture of water gas—I lent him small sums of money in connection with it—I went with him to Miss Weston some time in April, and saw Davis there trying the engine—he told me he had bought? it for £3 15s.—he was cleaning a revolver, which I identify—he got the things clean it out of the red box, which he said belonged to him—when I first saw it there was a box in it with two small bottles, with the letters
"A"and "B" on them—this (produced) is the lid of the box, and I believe these are the cleaning materials—Davis asked for a violin bow—I went home and fetched it, and gave it to one of them—some time in April Mason was away from Davis for a time, and was telegraphing all over the place for his address, and afterwards said that he had found it—while he was away I saw Mason every day between one o'clock and 2.30, and every evening—Davis was not there—on May 4th I went to Richmond to see Mason, and met him at the station—he was alone—we went to the Greyhound, and waited down a lane, and met Davis and a lady—Davis was wearing a silk hat—Mason and I talked about the patent, not about money orders—we stopped at the Greyhound that night, and occupied the same room—I went to town the next morning, and left Mason at Richmond—he met me the same day—he showed me a chain at Richmond, which he said Davis had given him to raise money on, and on that I offered to lend him some money—I had borrowed some to buy a bicycle and lent him £7—he sent a telegram saying that he was going away, and I received telegrams from him from Oxford, Watford, and other places, but not from Reading—on May 10th he had a workshop in the Harrow Road—prior to that I had cleared out the place—I took the things home first, and then took them to the Harrow Road—they were tools and small things, and I saw these chemicals in a cardboard-box—I never saw Mason with a money order, and he never asked me to get one—he has used this card with the name of Mordaunt on it for some years for writing for the press.
Cross-examined. I saw my brother off at Euston—he was going to Birmingham—that was a long time after I was introduced to Davis—he was only away a few days, not a week—he does not live at home with me in Goswell Road—he only stopped at the Greyhound at Richmond one night—I cannot tell you where he lives—he was working at Maple's, Tottenham Court Road; is electric-wire man, and he was working with Davis at an invention—I have no idea where he lived at night—I have not seen him at Holloway—I have posted a letter to him and posted one for him to the Detective Serjeant—I heard that he lived at Sheffield—I know now that it was his wife who he was with at Petersham, I saw her at Bow Street—I got the £7 by borrowing £3 from a friend and £3 from my father, and £1 had of my own, and I lent it to my brother—it was to make engines go without coal, not to erase ink—I heard through the newspapers that these things are used to take the ink out of Post Office order—I have seen him wearing a gold watch-chain, but said nothing to him about it—I never saw him carry a revolver—the patent is not registered yet—the machine is all pipes—these pipes supply a certain gas, which is used instead of fire—the gas is not manufactured from this article in the bottle—neither of them told me anything about the chemicals in the box, I thought they had something to do with the invention.
Mason, in his defence, contended that there was no evidence that the writing on the orders was his, or that he obtained the model engine by a forged order, or that he was concerned with Davis, or with him at any time when the fraud was carried out.
Davis's defence: I only wish to say that it was me that got that engine, and not Mason.
GUILTY .—They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Davis at Birmingham on March 12 th, 1892, and Mason at Marlborough Street on December 6th, 1897. Other convictions were proved against them, and Davis is still under ticket of leave. DAVIS— Six Years' Penal Servitude. MASON— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
GEORGE SLINGSBY PLEADED GUILTY .— Judgment respited.
FLORENCE SLINGSBY PLEADED GUILTY .— Discharged on recognizances.
MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against WEST and MARY SLINGSBY.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, June 22nd, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
426. WILLIAM WOODMAN RUNCIEMAN (42) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying Agnes Roselle Ingrouille, his wife being alive; also, to feloniously inserting false entries in the Register of Marriages, relating to his marriage; and, to a conviction of felony at Oxford Quarter Sessions in April, 1889.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
430. HENRY THOMAS KIRK RICHARDS* (34) , to unlawfully obtaining from Walter Austin and others orders for the payment of 10s. 9d. and other sums by false pretences.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. COHEN Defended.
The Prisoner, during the progress of the case, stated that he was
GUILTY of the attempt, and the JURY found that verdict. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HEDDON Prosecuted.
JOHANN ALBRECHT (Interpreted). I am a butcher—on Whit-Monday morning, May 31st, I was in Spilalfields Road, Shoreditch, walking home about 1.30 a.m.—I was a little bit in liquor—I was attacked from behind—someone got me round my neck—my watch and chain and about £2 in silver were taken from me, my trousers torn—there were several men—
the prisoner was one—they threw me on the ground—I saw the prisoner with his arm round my neck choking me—I was laid up three weeks—the wound on my forehead is not yet healed—they threw me on the ground, jumped at me, and kicked me—I had a black eye, caused when they threw me down—a constable brought the prisoner up, and I gave him into custody—this is my watch-case and the clasp that was on the watch.
JAMES LEWIS . I live at Tilly Street, Spitalfields—on May 31st I was walking home between one and 1.30 a.m. in Tenter Street and Shepherd Street—I saw the prosecutor with a woman—I watched some lads following them—the prosecutor had had a drop—the lads pounced on the prosecutor, and put him to the ground—I mean they knocked him on the ground by pouncing on him—they all kneeled on the top of him—the female ran away—I watched them—they said, "Go out of it," and for fear they would serve me the same I went towards Church Street, where I saw a constable getting a legal man off the pavement—I mean a man a bit drunk—the policeman came, and the men ran away—I pointed out two who were running away—I, recognised the prisoner before he ran away about a hundred yards—I saw him with five men follow the prosecutor and a woman—I went to the station—later on I searched the place where it occurred, and picked up this watch-case, a bit of glass, and a halfpenny.
THOMAS MASTERMAN (104 H). On May 31st, about 1.30 a.m., I was in Commercial Street, Spitalfields—Lewis gave me information that a man had been robbed—I saw the prisoner hurrying across the road with another man—I chased them, and caught the prisoner—the other ran 300 yards off—the prisoner said, "I have just come up the other side of the street; I was speaking to a woman"—there was no woman there—I told him I should take him into custody for assaulting a man and robbing him—when I got back the prosecutor's face was bleeding—his pocket was turned out—he at once identified the prisoner—he said, "That is the man"—he had been drinking—he was very excited and wanted to strike the prisoner, and when he was in the dock as well.
GUILTY †.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
The witness Lewis was awarded £1 in addition to his expenses.
MR. HARBISON Prosecuted.
SARAH WYLES . I am the wife of John Wyles, of 109, A obey Street, Rugby—on April 13th I saw this advertisement in the People newspaper for the sale of a basinette mail-cart which cost £4 a month ago—I wrote and got in reply this photo and description—believing the advertiser "M. D." was going away and the description in the advertisement and letter, I sent postal orders for 30s. to Mrs. Davis, 27, Marquis Road, Canonbury—I did not receive it, and after some correspondence I threatened proceedings—I sent the letter of April 28th asking to send it on at once, and received this reply, signed "M. Davis": "I am starting cart off, and shall be pleased to hear of its arrival"—it never arrived.
Cross-examined by George Davis. I received no letter after the 26th, when I sent a letter and telegram.
SAMUEL WOOLRANCH . I am manager of the estate of Mr. Charles Woolrach, including 27, Marquis Road, Islington—the prisoner, George Davis, is the tenant at £50 per annum, payable monthly—he came there in 1896.
Cross-examined by George Davis. The superior landlord, the Marquis of Northampton, brought an action against the business being carried on, and a year ago it was discontinued in the house—that was the reason you could not advertise in your own name at that address—the business was the manufacture of basinettes—I have been there several times—a shed was erected at the side of the house—I remember seeing one mail-cart.
Cross-examined by Florence Davis. I know nothing about my grandfather financing the business—there are about 600 houses on the estate.
Re-examined. I know of no reason why the prisoners should not advertise from 27, Marquis Road, or from their manufactory if they had one.
FANNY ELIZABETH WELTON . I am the wife of Francis William Welton, a carpenter, of 8, Lawn Road, Southwold, Suffolk—in April last I saw an advertisement in Lloyd's newspaper of a basinette mail-cart for sale: "Sacrifice, 30s., Rev., 33, Canonbury Road, Islington, N."—I wrote and received a letter, which I have not got now, similar to this produced, and enclosing a photograph; in consequence of which I sent a postal order for 30s. in a registered letter, for which this is a receipt, addressed to Mrs. Davis, 27, Marquis Road—receiving no reply, I wrote on April 24th, again sending my address, and threatening proceedings if I did not receive the mail-cart or the money—I never got a reply or a return of the money.
JANE ANN VARLEY . I am the wife of John Varley, a blacksmith, of 27, Eversleigh Cottages, Southwold—on April 24th I saw an advertisement in the Daily Chronicle of a mail-cart for sale equal to new for 30s. and which cost 80s.—I wrote to 27, Marquis Road, and received this reply with description—I sent a postal order for 30s. on May 5th—I got no receipt, reply, or mail-cart—I communicated with the police.
JAMES GEORGE BLETSOE . I am a newsagent, of 33, Canonbury Road, Islington—I receive letters at that shop—in April last the male prisoner called and asked if I would receive letters, as he had an advertisement appearing in the name of "Rev."—I said yes—about 150 came—sometimes the male and sometimes the female prisoner got them—I received two in the name of Doctor, and several in the name of Davis.
Cross-examined by George Davis. Your sister began to call after the first week—I continued to receive letters till about a fortnight ago—you said the reason was an objection to your carrying on business at Marquis Road—you arranged the terms of 5s. a week for the first fortnight, and after that a penny a letter—a number of people called, and I used to send them to the house—I saw two mail-carts pass—the people who called did not seem dissatisfied—they came about mail-carts, and I referred them to 27, Marquis Road, and two of then came back with the mail-carts they had purchased.
Cross-examined by Florence Davis. I am sure you called more than
three times; I should say a dozen times—I gave letters to you myself three or four times—my wife saw you more than that.
Re-examined. I only received one complaint, where a lady said she went, and it was denied to be at 27, Marquis Road.
ANNIE SAVAGE . I am the wife of William Savage, a plumber, of Little stone Road, New Romney, Kent—on May 6th I saw an advertisement in the People newspaper for a mail-cart, value £5, to apply to "Major, 27, Marquis Road, Canonbury, N."—I wrote, enclosing a postal order for 15s.—I received no cart, nor any answer—my husband wrote at the end of the week—I telegraphed at the end of the week following, paying for a reply, and received this reply of May 21st: "Cart despatched today. Regret absent from home.—MAJOR"—I did not receive it—I wrote again, threatening proceedings—I got no other reply, no mail-cart, and no return of the money.
JOHN FULLER , M. R. C. S. I practise at Ashfield—on August 20th, 1897, I saw the advertisement in the Bazaar newspaper of a first-class mail-cart for 32s., of "Housekeeper, 157, Church Street, Stoke Newington"—I wrote, enclosing postal orders for 32s., and asked for it to be sent at once—I got no reply—I wrote again, asking why it was not sent—I received a reply, which I handed to the police, who have lost it—it was that the label had become detached at the station, but that I should receive it in a day or two—I never got the cart, or the money back.
WILLIAM FOSTER . I am station master at the Stoke Newington Station of the Great Western Railway—in August, 1897, we received no mail-cart—we have never received one addressed to Dr. Fuller, of Ashfield—I know of no label becoming detached—if un addressed it would go to the Lost Property Office—there has been no correspondence with that office.
ELIZABETH PITHER . I reside at 157, Church Street, Stoke Newington—I know the prisoners as neighbours—in the summer of 1897 they both came and asked me to receive letters for them—I received letters addressed "Housekeeper," and gave them to the prisoners when they called—I refused payment—I received about nine or ten.
Cross-examined by Florence Davis. When I refused payment you said, "But you cannot take letters in for nothing."
Cross-examined by George Dams. You had a shop and a few perambilstors—you had working girl assistants.
EDGAR PAIN . I am a farmer, of Court Lodge Farm, near Ashford, Kent—in September last I saw an advertisement in the Daily Mail of a baby's mail-cart worth £4 for 30s., with the address 27, Marquis Road, Canonbury—I answered it and received this reply of September 21st, offering the cart on receipt of cheque on the London and County Bank or cash on arrival—I post-dated the cheque September 30th four day—I received this post-card: "Received cheque; start cart off to-day, Monday, which I feel sure will please you"—I never received it—I wrote to know why it had not been sent, and received this reply (Stating that the label had been lost and regretting the delay.)—not receiving it, I wrote again on September 27th, threatening proceedings unless I received the mail-cart or the 30s. I had sent—the cheque passed through my account on October 1st—I never received any further reply, nor any mail-cart, nor any money—I complained to the police.
ALFRED GEORGE DAVY . I am a newsagent, of 99, Southgate Road, London, N.—in March last the prisoner George came and asked me to receive 'letters—I agreed at a penny a letter—I received forty or fifty letters in the name of "Doctor" and "Davis"—he or his sister, the female prisoner, fetched them away—I discontinued them in consequence of a complaint from the police.
Cross-examined by George Davis. A constable came to me saying that his sister had sent 30s., which had not been acknowledged—I explained that I only took in letters, and took him to your house and saw your sister, and after an argument he took the mail-cart away.
EDWARD NEW (Police Serjeant N). I received thirty-seven complaints in about two years and a-half, in consequence of which, on June 2nd, I went to the rear of 15, James Street, Islington, which is about a quarter of a mile from 27, Marquis Road, which is about a mile and a-half from Stoke Newington—I saw the male prisoner—I said, "You know me, Mr. Davis"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer. I hold a warrant for your arrest"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For fraud"—he said, "It is not fraud, it is business"—I took him to Stoke Newington station—he was there charged—he made no reply—he and two other men were at work in a stable about twelve feet by fifteen feet or sixteen—I saw about six mail-carts and portions of fittings—after the arrest I went to 27, Marquis Road, and took possession of several documents (produced)—the female prisoner pointed to a mail-cart and said, "That is one intended for Mrs. Wise, and will be sent on at once"—I found no business books.
Cross-examined by George Davit. The size of the workshop is my rough guess—I saw a man and a youth at work—I went to your private house—I saw two females—I cannot say whether they were employed by you—one said she was charing there.
ALFRED WARD (Police Serjeant, N). On June 8th I saw the female prisoner—I said, "I am a police officer. I hold a warrant for your arrest for conspiracy and fraud"—I read it to her—she said she knew nothing about it; she had no intention to defraud; she was only a clerk, and did not have a penny of the money—when charged at the police-station she made no reply—I saw both the prisoners write.
Cross-examined by Florence Davis. We have £2 10s. found in your purse.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate were: George Davis says, "This is a thoroughly legitimate business, but, unfortunately, no books were kept. The two occasions of last year, when I had the misfortune to leave Church Street, Stoke Newington, the addresses were lost. The recent cases I am in a position to execute the orders." Florence Davis says, "I was employed by my brother to assist in the correspondence and the work in general, and had no intention to defraud."
George Davis produced a written defence, stating that he had corned on a legitimate business for five years, two and a-half at his present address, and that the delay was owing to insufficient capital to execute the orders, which he could execute if the case stood over.
Florence Davis's defence: I was employed by my brother at a weekly
wage of 7s. 6d. I had no intention to defraud. I never had any of the profits of the business. I was simply a paid servant.
GEORGE DAVIS— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
FLORENCE DAVIS— NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, June 23rd, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. C. F. GILL, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
435. FRANCIS JOSEPH POOLE (31) , Unlawfully soliciting, encouraging, and endeavouring to persuade Thomas Murphy feloniously to murder Annie Poole. Second Count—Proposing to Murphy that he (Murphy) should murder Annie Poole.
MESSRS. BODKIN. BIRON and TRAVERS HUMPHREYS Prosecuted, and MR. MUIR Defended.
THOMAS MURPHY . I am a corproter, and work at St. George's Wharf, Pimlico—I live at 103, Westmoreland Street—I have known the prisoner for about three years by meeting him and having casual talks with him—I did not know his name—I did not know his wife—I never saw her till she was at the Police-court.—I never went to his house—on Friday afternoon, May 27th, I was in the Spread Eagle public-house in Grosvenor Road—the prisoner came in—he called me out, and said, "Are you in a Hurry?"—I said, "No, not exactly; why?"—he said, "I have got a few letters to deliver, and I shall be back in a quarter of an hour's time; I want to speak to you very seriously"—I said, "Very well, I will wait"—I knew him to be a postman—I waited—in a quarter of an hour, about 3.15, he came back to the public-house, and called me (I was having a glass of ale with a friend) into the next bar, where there was nobody—he said, "Will you have a glass of ale?"—I said yes—he called for a glass of ale and a glass of ginger-beer for himself—he opened the conversation by saying he was in very serious trouble, and said he had been walking out with a servant girl, and he pretended he was a single man, and he had got her into trouble, and he thought it might come to his wife's ears eventually, and he said, "What would you advise me to do in the matter?"—I said I thought it was very foolish on his part to take any notice; if he had got her into trouble he should put up with it—he said he had given her some chemicals, and likewise six penny worth of laudanum—I said, "For why"—he said, "To procure a miscarriage"—after that I really though thew as not right—I said, "I will have no more say in the matter"—ho said, "Will you be at work to-morrow?"—I said, "Yes, I shall be at work to-morrow; you know where to see me if you want to see me. I am only at work across the road"—he said he would see me—I thought he looked wild and excited about the eyes; his conversation did not seem to be as it ought to be—I fancied he must have been silently drinking, or something like that; his breath smelt of drink—next afternoon, Saturday, May 28th, about
3.30, I went in the public-house after I had done my work—I saw the prisoner standing against the door of the house—he asked me to have a glass of ale; I had really forgotten the other circumstances—we went inside; I think I called for a glass of ale and a drop of ginger-beer for the prisoner—he said he had clearly altered his mind about what he was talking the day before; that he was really terrified of his wife, and he would like someone to knock her on the head—I thought he was quite foolish, and that he was not right, till he began telling me some other stories—he said, "My wife is very fond of sherbert and water"—I said "Yes"—he said, "On one occasion there was some acid they used in the office; I mixed it up with the sherbert and water, and told her to drink it up quick, but she happened to smell it, and said, 'It has a funny taste, you taste it and I threw it into the fireplace. If it had come off it would have been a pure accident"—that was the first time I got alarmed in the matter—after that, he rambled in his statements, and then he said, "Now, look here, £7 would do you a bit of good, would it not?"—I said "Yes"—he said, "Well, look here, if you meet me in the morning about eleven o'clock I will give you the key of the house; there will only be one lodger left; it will be very easily done, because there is no notice taken of lodgers going in and out. You can walk upstairs and attract the attention of Mrs. Poole, and the matter will be very simple"—he said while I went in and killed his wife he would go for a walk—after that I determined to inform the police of the matter—I pretended to agree with him—he mentioned incidentally that he would be on duty at nine o'clock at night—I waited, and saw him at nine o'clock—he had a glass of ginger-beer, and the house was very crowded, and nothing passed with the exception of "Good evening"—I communicated with the police on that day, and after that acted on their instructions—I saw him next on the Sunday, May 30th, about eleven a.m., in Lupus Street, about twenty yards from Claverton Street—he beckoned me across the road, and put this letter in my hand—I afterwards handed it to the police. (The letter was read as follows:—"I find it impossible to come out this morning, but will be out about 3 this afternoon. I will then give you the key. There is a party in now, but will be out about 2 o'clock. There will only be the servant in with her. The misses has ginger hair. I will leave steps in the first floor front room, not second floor, and a stool, so if it comes off rest her head on stool as if falling off steps on stool. Go in quietly, and come out not seen.
"Accident' by falling off steps. You will find door wide open; will leave rest to you. Meet me in Rutland Street")—he said, "Read that; I think it is a finer "or "better scheme than the other."—At 2.20 that afternoon I went in the "White Horse" and called for a glass of ale; the prisoner called me out; he had a boy of about 5 years old by the hand—he pointed across to a butcher's shop, and said, "There is the key of the street door"—it was lying on the window sill of the butcher's shop—I went and took it up—I afterwards gave it to the police—this key resembles it—I believe it to be the one—the prisoner said nothing more.
Cross-examined. During the three years I had known him he did not appear to be a man who drank very much—I
saw him with a glass of ale, but nothing out of the way—when he made these propositions to me he seemed an altered man; his eyes seemed shifty, and he was looking down and up at me again, and that sort of thing, far different to his expressions on any other occasion—I thought he was in drink on the first occasion because his breath smelt of spirits, and he spoke in a very low tone of voice; and what struck me as peculiar was his drinking ginger-beer, at the same time—when he asked my advice about the servant girl and I told him he would have to put up with the consequences he got very excited and looked very wild for the moment, and made rambling statements—I said to him something like "We will think it over, and I will see you to-morrow"—I did not want any further conversation; I thought he was not right in his head—on the second occasion, on the Saturday, he said, "I have come to the conclusion it will be better to kill my wife than her/' meaning the servant girl—I thought then he was not in his right mind—his manner was the same as it had been the night before, but more subdued—he said, "There will only be a clergyman in the house, a lodger," and I was to walk upstairs at 11 o'clock in the morning (Sunday), and that he would be there and give me the key of the house, and I was to open the door and walk upstairs and attract the wife's attention, and when she came up I was to commit the deed—he said, "It is only a matter of just knocking her on the head"—on the Sunday morning, when I met him at eleven o'clock, and he handed me the letter, he was alone—he looked to me as if he had been doing some cleaning—he was not dressed—he handed me the letter down the street—there were not many people about—he only just told me to read the letter—I did not read it in his presence, because he told me to pass on, it would not do to be seen together, and I passed on—that was about a hundred yards from his house, in Lupus Street—when he put the letter in my hand he said, "I think that will be a finer thing; it is a fine scheme on my part, and will come off all right"—when I met him in the afternoon, with his little boy, it was about a hundred yards from the house—I did not speak to him then—he told me the key was on the ledge of the butcher's shop, on the same side of the way, about half a yard from where I stood—it is quite possible the boy may have heard what was said—the prisoner was holding his boy by the hand—it was on the Saturday that he said if it came off well he would not mind giving me £7—he never gave me anything—I am a corn porter—I earn 8s. 6d., 9s., or 10s. a day—I do not know if I earn more than the prisoner—he has always behaved as a gentleman—he knew where I was working, and that I was in respectable, straightforward employment, getting good wages—I said nothing about sherbert and water before the Magistrate, except that I called it one of his rambling statements—I believe I told the police officer about that statement—I did not know the prisoner's name—we were not exactly friends, only nodding acquaintances.
Re-examined. There was no change in the prisoner except this shiftiness, looking up and down—he had never suggested anything of the kind to me before.
ALFRED CAMBER (Detective Serjeant, B). I was at the Gerald Road Police-station about midnight on Saturday, May 28th, when May 28th, when Murphy and another man came there—Murphy made a statement, which I took down
in writing—in consequence of that statement I made some inquiries the next morning—at 1.30 p.m. on that Sunday this letter, "A," was handed to me by the officer on duty at Gerald Road Police-station—later on Murphy handed me the key—about three p.m. I went to 10, Claverton Street, and let myself in with the key—after walking upstairs I came down again into the front kitchen, and saw the prisoner's wife—with her I went to the first floor front-room—in front of the fire-place in that room I found a pair of steps and a stool upside down, and about three feet from the foot of the steps—the second step from the bottom of the pair of steps was broken—I waited in the house for some time, going out into the street several times and returning—at 5.40 the prisoner came into the house by the area steps—I followed him into the kitchen—I said, "We are police officers, and shall take you into custody and convey you to the Gerald Road Police-station, and you will be charged with inciting a man named Murphy to murder your wife Annie"—he said, "What have I done?"—I conveyed him to the Gerald Road police station, where he was detained—I then, with Inspector Campion, returned to 10, Claverton Street, where we saw the steps and the stool as already described—we went back to the police station, where Murphy made a statement in the prisoner's presence—at the close of the statement Campion said, "You have heard what this witness has said?"—the prisoner said, "Yes, I have heard what he has said"—he was charged, and the charge was read to him; he made no reply.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner came into the house I was on the top of the steps in the open area—I was about a yard from him as he went down the steps—he held the hand of a little boy who was with him, and he was smoking a cigarette—his wife was in the front kitchen behind a large curtain that came from the top of the window; I asked her to keep herself out of sight—when the prisoner entered the kitchen she stepped into view.
JANE ROSER . I have been servant to Mrs. Poole, at 10, Claverton Street, for about four or five months—she takes lodgers—at times the prisoner had intemperate habits—he used to break out occasionally—when in intemperate fits he behaved quietly 'towards his wife, but she could not bear to see him in drink; and knowing he was a postman and had letters it put her about, and she did all she possibly could do to get him to give up drink—he did not ill-treat her in any way—they quarrelled occasionally when he was in fits of intemperance—at other times he was very kind to her and helped her a good deal—there was a pair of ordinary house steps; one step had been broken away for a long time—on the Sunday morning those steps were in a small ante-room on the ground floor; the prisoner put them there on the Saturday morning when Mrs. Poole had finished cleaning the dining room—I saw them in the ante-room at 8 or 8.30 on the Sunday morning—all that Sunday morning the prisoner was at home, and had dinner in the middle of the day—I had no knowledge of the steps being taken upstairs again; there was no occasion for them to be taken up—on the Saturday I saw the prisoner writing.
Cross-examined. It was a good house kept mainly by the wife—she was a good lodging-housekeeper and had good lodgers, and made a
considerable profit out of it, so far as I could see—she was a very nice, hard-working, industrious, amiable woman—she was anxious about the letters in his possession as a postman when he was in drink, and about his situation; and she upbraided him at those times, and that was the Cause of the quarrels—he took the scolding very quietly; that is what I mean when I speak of quarrels—apart from the question of drink he was always a good, affectionate husband—he assisted her very greatly in the house when his duties permitted—there was not the least sign during the time I lived in the house of his hating his wife, or desiring to get lid of her—I had noticed him several times for about a month before under the influence of drink—it went on for three or four days, and they had frequent quarrels, and then she persuaded him, I think, to give it up, and I believe at the end of that time he signed the pledge, and from that time up to the time of his arrest he was most quiet in the house, and we did not believe he was taking drink at all—we made him coffee and different things, because we quite thought he was keeping the pledge—I do not know whether a bottle of spirits was found on him when he was arrested.
JOHN WILLIAM McRAY . I am a clerk in Holy Orders—I have lodged from September, 1897, at 10, Claverton Street—I had got to know the prisoner—I knew he had given way to drink, and I gave him advice in April last—ho promised to reform—at the beginning of May I spoke to him with regard to his conduct to his wife—he was causing her inconvenience by staying out at night, and I made some suggestions as to the alleged cause of it, and said if, as was alleged, he had made arrangements for living outside his house, his wife would be justified in refusing him to come into the house until those allegations had been cleared up—I had heard he had taken rooms elsewhere, and was living with another woman—he said he was justified in such a course owing to the unpleasantness which he found at home—he said there was unpleasantness—he did not at first deny the allegations, but after some talk he said he had made the statements with a view of spiting his wife, to aggravate her—since then they seemed to get on satisfactorily—I was out all day on May 29th, Whit Sunday.
Cross-examined. As far as I can recollect it was about May 5th I spoke to him about his alleged relations with another woman—it was reported to me his wife had locked him out on two or three nights—that was what I referred to when I said any act would be justified on her part if the allegations against him were true—he then told made had the allegation to annoy his wife—he brought coals to my room, and assisted with the heavier duties of the house—he took the pledge twice—one he kept from August till April, so far as I was aware—when I spoke to him on the second occasion there were signs that the first pledge had been broken—he gave a pledge again—I saw no signs of his having broken the second pledge—I did not know he bad been drinking secretly—I think he was good husband and a kind father from what I saw of him.
acquaintance through his calling with letters—I knew him as Arthur Major—I left my situation there on 17th April; my acquaintance with the prisoner continued after that—he simply wrote notes to me, and I answered them making appointments—I sent my letters to 65, Grosvenor Road—I kept the appointments, and we walked out together—I always understood he was single—he said he was engaged to a young lady, but he did not like her, and he was going to give her up—he said that soon after I left St. George's Square—the last occasion I walked out with him was on 27th May; we made an appointment to meet on the next Sunday evening at six.
Cross-examined. I have known him about two months—there were no improper relations, and no very intimate relations between us—I walked out with him, and nothing more—there is a vast difference, I think, between Balking out with a young man and being engaged to him—he never gave me any drugs or medicines, or anything of the kind.
HARRIET FAIRCHILD . I live at 65, Grosvenor Road, and keep a newspaper shop there—I take in letters at 1d. each—I took in letters for the prisoner in the names of Poole and Major from about some time in April last I believe—about six came for him I should think, some in each name.
CHARLES WATERS (Detective, B). About eleven o'clock a.m. on Sunday, May 29th, I was keeping observation on 10, Claverton Street, and I saw the prisoner leave the house—I was present at the meeting between the prisoner and his wife on the Sunday evening—he came in about 5.40; his wife was in the corner of the room, and he turned very white, and seemed very much surprised to see her there—he was greatly agitated, but did not say anything—I searched him at the station, and found on him £1 in gold, £1 2s. 6d. in silver, no spirits.
Cross-examined. I have been a warder for some time—people are brought to Holloway sometimes suffering from the effects of drink—I cannot say whether the prisoner was so suffering—(The letter was read as follows: "My darling wife, never did I dream of writing to you from such a place; being here I have no work whatever to do, and you know therefore I have to think of my past life. I have resolved by the help of Almighty God to never touch in any way liquor or intoxicants; since signing the pledge I have been drinking quietly spirits from a bottle I kept in my pocket, but I have been too ashamed to own to it after what Mr. Macr. had done for me; and then this offence occurring, and the other offences turning up, which one traces the other, I can and have fully realised that by the manner and way I have done things, and borne it up to last Saturday night, even then I turned, and had a rare fight to seek assistance from above; but, thank God, I have got to do so, and will by His help and assistance lead a very different life to that I have ever done before. I am now in hospital, for I have seen the medical officer this morning, and although I am better than I have been for months simply through being unable to get liquor, he ordered me to bed. I only feel now an occasional shock when I do fall to sleep, which debars me torn a good night's rest, and I think the doctor will give me
something here to lay that. I shall be very pleased if you and Annie can come and see me as soon as you can. I know you are always very busy, but you are not debarred to come and see me at any time at a reasonable hour, say between ten a.m. and five p.m. My darling, I long to see you to speak with. I was pleased indeed to see you look so well as you did last Monday, and I now look upon my case most seriously; it is undoubtedly a ridiculous and abominable thing to do, and no doubt my punishment will be great; but there's One who I know will hold me up and help me through, Who I never intend to desert again; that is Jesus. I think now I must close, and wishing you well, with good successes, believe me your most repentent husband, FRANK. Kiss my darling Tommy a thousand times for me. Tell Annie (my sister) to come with you. There is only fifteen minutes allowed to speak together. Good bye, God be with you.")
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. SYMONS Prosecuted.
MARIA LUCKHURST . I live at 1, Flower and Dean Street—the deceased was my friend—on May 28th we were hawking beads—we were crossing the road from Webb's Corner to the Red Lion, and had got nearly to the kerb when I heard her scream, and we were both knocked down, I did not see by what—they dragged me on to the pavement and I crawled away as well as I could—it stunned me—I and the deceased were sober; we had had two half-pints of ale from nine in the morning till the time this happened, nine p.m.
ARTHUR JEFFERYS . I am an electrician, living at 12, Stafford Street, Poplar—on Saturday, May 28th, about 9.45 p.m., I was in Whitechapel High Street, by Webb's distillery, at the corner of Commercial Street, going towards the City—I saw the cart come round the corner from Leman Street at a pretty quick pace, about ten miles an hour I should say; I am Hot a driver—I noticed the cart coming round, and all of a sudden I heard a lot of shouting, and looking round I saw the cart drive past, and the next I saw was a woman, whom I afterwards found was Elizabeth Short, on the ground—I did not see her knocked down—there was not any traffic with the exception of this particular cart—she was about two yards from the kerb.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I went to the hospital with her—when I saw the woman on the ground the cart was about Coates's distillery, nearly opposite Moorgate Street Station—it had passed on—no other cart had passed in the meantime.
JAMES HOOPER (141 H). On May 28th I was on duty in High Street, Whitechapel, opposite the top of Leman Street, outside Webb's—I heard screaming coming from the opposite corner—I saw a horse and two-wheeled spring cart going at a very furious rate towards Aldgate—I gave chase and blew my whistle—a City constable stopped the horse—I went up and found the prisoner in the cart—he was drunk, certainly too
drunk to be in charge of a horse and cart in my opinion—there were fifteen half-sacks of potatoes and onions in the cart—I took him to the top of Leman Street, where I sew the woman unconscious—she was placed in a cart, and taken to the hospital—I took the prisoner to the station, and charged him with being drunk and furiously driving—a man who was with the prisoner in the cart jumped out and got away, and I have not been able to find him since—at the time the prisoner drove by there was nothing else on that side of the way.
ARCHELAUS INCH (599 City). On Sunday, May 28th, I was going on duty at Aldgate—I heard a whistle blown and looked round, and saw a hone and cart coming towards me at a very rapid pace—I heard some people shout "Stop him"—I called to the prisoner who was in the cart to stop; he did not—I ran alongside of him, and caught hold of the near side rein and pulled the horse up—I believe another man who was in the cart got out, while I was holding the horse's head—I handed over the prisoner and the horse and cart to Hooper who came up—the prisoner was drunk.
WILLIAM BEAVER (296 H). On May 28th I was on duty in High Street, Whitechapel, outside Gardiner's corner—I heard screaming and saw a woman on the ground, and a cart going at a furious pace towards Aldgate—I went to the woman—she was Elizabeth Short—she was unconscious—I had her taken to the hospital, where Dr. Hutchinson saw her.
MART ANN NEVILLE . I live at 2, Flower and Dean Street, and am the wife of John Neville, a bricklayer's labourer—I knew the deceased—she was about sixty-one years old—she was a hawker, selling things in the street—I went to see her in the hospital—she used to get very drunk—she got drunk most every day.
WILLIAM DAVY . I live at 9, St. Anne's Road, Limehouse, and am a carman—on May 28th I was driving from Aldgate to Limehouse—I heard a scream, and looked and saw the old lady falling, and the wheel of the cart went over her—as she fell she was about a yard from the wheel—directly she fell the cart went over her—I pulled over to her, and with the help of other people got her in my van, and took her to the hospital.
FREDERICK ALBERT STUART HUTCHINSON . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—Elizabeth Short was brought to me on May 28th, suffering from considerable shock, and in a very collapsed condition—she had several ribs broken on both sides, and a few abrasions on the face—she was quite conscious—she was not drunk, and her breath did not smell of liquor—she was kept in hospital, and on the 30th she died—her death, I should say, was due to the injuries she received; she never recovered from the shock—the injuries I saw were consistent with her having bee run over by the wheel of a cart.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was driving at the rate of four or five miles an hour, and that the deceased turned to speak to him, and fell under his wheel, and then the shouts of other people startled his horse, and he could not pull up for the moment.
GUILTY .**— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, June 23rd, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. MUIR and MR. LEYCESTER Prosecuted, and LORD COLERIDGE and MR. ELLIOTT Defended.
CHARLES LANCELOT TAYLOR . I am a member of the London Stock Exchange at 6, Copthall Court. In March last I had been to Madeira for the benefit of my health, and at the beginning of April came home on board the steamer Teuton—the prisoner was among my fellow passengers, and I made his acquaintance—in the course of the voyage I cashed a cheque for a fellow passenger in the prisoner's presence—I afterwards gave him my card, and said, I should be glad to see him at luncheon when he was in the City—he called on me on Saturday, April 23rd, about 1.30—he passed the usual compliments and said that he wanted some money on a country cheque—I said, "I suppose you only want £5 or £10"—he said, "More than that; £30"—he opened a cheque book and expressed surprise that there was no cheque left in it, and said he would write the cheque on paper—I furnished him with paper, and he drew this cheque on a country bank—I got six £5 notes from my banker and gave them to him—we walked downstairs and had a little refreshment, and I left him about 2 o'clock—I sent the cheque to my bank, and it was returned on the 26th marked "Refer to drawer"—I went to the Albemarle Hotel that evening, but the prisoner had left that morning—I wrote him a letter—this (produced) is it and the envelope—it was afterwards produced at the Police-court. by a gentleman appearing for him—I got no answer—on May 25th I applied at the Guildhall for a summons—I got his address from Messrs. Forward—I had consulted my solicitors, and I afterwards got the warrant—on Sunday, June 12th, I was in the Frascati Restaurant, Brighton, and the prisoner came in with a lady—I went out and informed the Brighton police, and he was taken into custody—I did not speak to him—I believed that his cheque was of equal value to money.
Cross-examined. I met him on the way home from the Canaries to Madeira—he did not give me his Devonshire address, I got it from Messrs. Forward—he talked about the west—receiving no reply to my letter I thought it had not reached him, and though I saw him at Brighton I gave him no opportunity to explain, as the matter had passed out of my hands.
FREDERICK AUGUSTUS BROOKS HILL . I am special manager to the Salisbury branch of the Wilts Bank—the prisoner was a clerk there at a salary of £90—in February this year he was away on leave in consequence of a bicycle accident—he had an account at our bank—I produce a certified copy of
it, by which it appears that on April 7th there was a debtor balance against him of £29 10s—that included the letter of credit which he never received—we had received this letter from him on March 11th from the Grand Canaries—(This requested the bank to send the prisoner a letter of credit for £25, stating that it would slightly overdraw his account, but that he expected to return to England in a fortnight and return to business.)—in consequence of that, a letter of credit was sent to him on March 28th, and his account was debited with it—if that had never existed there would still have been a debit of £4 10s.—I think when he forwarded the last letter he did not know that we had sent out a letter of credit to him—we credited him on June 14th with £5 8s. 6d. for salary—there was then a credit balance to him of 18s. 6d.—I produce a copy from the bank books of cheques presented and dishonoured—the first is April 10th for £5; then on April 18th there is one for £20, and on the 26th one for £30; on the 28th one for £15 payable to self—that was drawn on the 26th—all those cheques have been returned dishonoured—we received this letter from the prisoner—(This was dated April 22nd, stating that he had that day heard that the bank had returned one of his cheques while he was abroad, that he had written to them asking leave to overdraw his account, and receiving no reply considered that they had consented; requesting them to see him on the next Tuesday to settle the account, sending in his resignation and requesting that his pass-book might be made up.)—he never returned to work, but he came and saw the General Manager.
Cross-examined. The result of his not getting the letter of credit was that he was £25 wrong—we received the letter of credit back—Mr. Linton saw the General Manager, and it came out that he had never received the letter of credit, and we sent a telegram—I know now that it is true that he had not received it—he was paid his salary for six weeks, but being away he was credited with it—his aunt or his mother paid in money for him from time to time—his relatives were in the habit of supplying him with money, £90 was not all he had to live on—our dishonouring the cheques was not a question of banker and client; it was banker and clerk; the whole question resolves itself into his receiving the letter of credit—I could not tell what the cheques were for, and, therefore, I thought it was better to return them, out of kindness to him, as a proper check to him—he has always behaved well—he has been in our service eight years—he is entitled to the reversion of a large property on his aunt's death, and that was known at the bank—we did not send him notice of the overdraft because we did not know his address—he did not receive information from us that the cheques had been dishonoured.
By the COURT. The account was a very small one—he often took his salary in cash—there is nothing to show in his pass-book that he ever attempted to cash a cheque for £30—I cannot find a single occasion that he has attemped to draw a cheque over £11 before this—when he went to the Canaries he must have got money from his relatives—I cannot find any attempt to draw £30 in a lump.
By MR. LEYCESTER. This is the cheque-book containing the counterfoils—there were originally a dozen cheques in it, and a form for a new
cheque-book that has never been filled up—this account was not overdrawn as far back as February 25th—he is credited with £4 15s. 6d., but the second cheque overdrew his account—I see a note inside the cover on certain cheques which have been returned—I think that is in the prisoner's handwriting—it is totalled up to £90—none of his relations had accounts at the bank.
STRATTON HY. W. DEVENISH . I am head manager of the Salisbury Bank, head office, the prisoner came in April, a day or two after this letter, in reference to his not returning and to the state of his account—inquired as to the letter of credit, and he said he had not received it—that was the first time I had heard that—he expressed regret that I had dishonoured his cheques—I reminded him that no arrangement had been made for an overdraft, this letter asking for a letter of credit is addressed to me—he said in it, "I am afraid it will somewhat overdraw my account, but if you will kindly permit me to do so till my return home in a fort-night' time, I shall be grateful"—the matter was referred to me by Mr. Hill.
Cross-examined. This mischief arises from my thinking he had got the letter of credit when he had not—if that letter of credit had been need he would still have overdrawn his account by £4 10s.—he asked for the letter of credit, as he could not have notes sent to him, because it was not safe to trust them to the post—his relatives were in the habit of sending him money—had he wished to arrange for an overdraft there would have been no difficulty about it, if I was satisfied with the application—I was aware who his relatives were, and what expectations he had, and he knew that.
re-examined The extent to which we should have allowed him to overdraw would entirely depend on circumstances—on the second paid account there is a debit balance of £27 10s.—that includes the £25—I should not have honoured his cheque for £30 without notice.
By the COURT. He saw us a day or two after the 26th, and did not tell us he had got £30 from Mr. Taylor on a cheque—I do not think any of his relatives have accounts at the bank, but they had business relations indirectly.
HARRY BENETT . I am head cashier to Messrs. Forward and Co., managing owners of the s.s. which arrived on April 10th, and the steward gave me this cheque on April 10th, which was paid into our bank and dishonoured, in consequence of which I wrote this letter to the prisoner (Informing him that his cheque for £25 had been returned marked "Refer to drawer")—I received this answer, headed "Hotel Albemarle, Brighton, April 23rd, 1898,—Sir,—I have only to-day received your letter; if you will send the cheque in again it will be duly met"—I paid it in again and it was returned with this letter—"Dear Sir,—We received your letter of the 23rd, requesting us to present your cheque for £5; we are placing the matter in the hands of the proper authorities"—we received the money on June 6th—that was the morning he was brought up at the Guildhall, and I informed the Court of that.
JOHN EGAN (City Detective). After the prisoner's arrest I examined the room at the Hotel Albemarle, Brighton, and found some papers and a cheque-book—I showed them to the prisoner, and asked if they were his
property—he said, "Yes"—among the papers there are four hotel bills—I read the warrant to him at Brighton, and said that I should take him to London—he said, "I should like to read the warrant again"—I let him read it—he said he did not know how they could say, "with intent to defraud"—I said, "It is marked 'Refer to drawer'; but you drew another cheque for £5 afterwards"—he said, "Yes, that has been paid"—that was on Sunday, June 12th.
S. H. W. DEVENISH (re-examined). I have no clear recollection one way or the other as to whether I mentioned to him or he to me the cheque given to Mr. Taylor—he may have done so—I knew that Taylor's cheque had been returned at that time.
Evidence for the Defence.
MARY SINCOE . I am the widow of Captain Henry John Sincoe, R. N.—I produce his will, in which I am life tenant of Woolford Lodge and the estates in Herefordshire, which the prisoner, my nephew, is entitled to in the will—I am tenant for life, and he is the heir—the estates are not worth more than £1,000 nett—in April this year some letters addressed to the prisoner came to my house—I kept them, and then forwarded them to his mother's address at Hammersmith for Shepherd's Bush—I cannot say whether this letter (Mr. Taylor's) is one which I forwarded, but I put them together and sent them—I used to allow him £30 a year, but afterwards only £20.
Cross-examined. The income derived from the estate is diminishing—he was not at my house in April—he was not staying with me, but he generally gave my address—he is my husband's great nephew—my age is sixty-two, and unless he survives me' he gets nothing—he left my house to go to the Canaries on February 17th or 18th, and came back on April 14th—he then wrote to me to say that he was back—I knew he was in London—I did not know where he was at the time I forwarded those letters to his mother.
FANNY FOSTER CAREY . I am a friend of the prisoners family—I was staying with his mother in May at Hammersmith—she is too ill to come here—during the time I was there letters were forwarded by post from Woolford Lodge, and kept at the house—they were handed to the solicitors for the defence in my presence.
CAROLINE DIXON . I live at Tudor House, Chippenham, and am an old friend of the prisoner's family—I knew his father, the Rev. George Linton—in January last I gave the prisoner £50 to go to the Canary Islands with, because he had had an accident.
HUGH CARL FORESTER . I am one of the firm of Burridge, Kent and Forester, of Shaftesbury—in March last I advanced £137 to the prisoner on the security of a policy of insurance, and if he had applied to me again I would have found him any quantity of money.
GUILTY .— Discharged on his own Recognizances.
MR. RICHARDS Prosecuted.
DAVID RICHMOND . I am a farm servant of Alderchurch, near Redditch—I bought a postal order at Wythal Post Office on June 2nd—I did not take the number—this is like it (produced)—I posted it about 8.45 to Ernest Goode, Watchmakers' Alliance, Oxford Street, W.—I fastened the letter.
SARAH ANN THORNTON . I am assistant at the sub-post office at Wythal—I issued this postal order to Mr. Richmond—there was no other order for 2s. 6d. issued that day—I have my book with the name in it.
HY. CHAS. MEACH . I am an overseer at the West District Office, were Street—the prisoner was on duty there on June 3rd from six a. m.—there was an accident on the line that day which caused the mail to be nearly two hours and a-half late, so that it did not reach the office till 6.15.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was not on duty that morning—it is the custom to put all the staff on to sorting when a mail is so late—it is impossible to say whether one individual postman is called out.
FREDERICK STANLEY . I act as assistant to the police at the G. P. O.—by instructions I kept watch on the prisoner on June 3rd from 8.45 a.m.—he collected from the pillar boxes of Beraers Street, Margaret Street, and Cavendish Square, reaching the Western District P. O. at 9—when he got to the office I went to Liason Grove to wait for him to come home, and he got home at 9.45 at Hatcher's Place—I saw him leave there at 11.45, and after going to get shaved he went to the Branch P.O. in Euston Road, where he paid for a 6d. stamp—he went from there to Hampstead Road and into a public house at the corner of Drummond Street—after 12 or 15 minutes he went to the Post Office in the Hampstead Road, No. 29, I think—there I saw him present two Post Office orders for payment, and saw him writing something on them, but could not be sure whether it was the name or the office he wrote—these are the orders—I saw them cashed, and as soon as he got the money I spoke to the pay clerk, and initialled the orders—these are my initials—I never lost sight of him, except when he was in the barber's and the public-house.
Cross-examined. I had never seen you in private clothes before that day—no one came out from your house with you—I do not know whether anyone came out before or after—I followed you as soon as you came out—I watched you go home in uniform.
GEORGE CHARLES PURDY . I am assistant to the sub-Postmaster, 29, Hampstead Road—the prisoner cashed these two postal orders there on June 3rd—he filled in the name of the paying office—on one it is spelt "Hamstead" and on the other "Hampstead"—directly he left Stanley made a communication to me—he wrote his initials on the two orders the prisoner presented.
Cross-examined. It must have been between 10 and 12 when you cashed them—it was a mere guess when I said at the Police-court. that it was about 10—I did not see you between June 3rd and when I was at Bow Street.
Re-examined. I have no doubt of the prisoner's identity—the orders had not left my hands when Stanley initialled them.
Office—I saw the prisoner on June 7th at the Western District Office and showed him these two postal orders—I told him he had been seen to cash them on June 3rd, and asked him what he knew about them—he said "I bought sixpenny worth of stamps on June 3rd at the post office in Euston Road: I did not cash the orders shown me"—I saw him later in the day at the General Post Office and got him to write "Hamptead—he got as far as the "p" and then said "'Hampstead' is spelt with a 'P'?"—the writing is the same as on these orders.
Cross-examined. When I asked you on June 7th what you had done on the, 3rd I mentioned Thursday, but instantly corrected myself to Friday—I did not correct myself at Vere Street.
By the COURT. The prisoner mentioned Thursday and I fell into the trap—he said "It was Thursday I went there and not Friday—he made the same admission about the stamps.
FREDERICK WILLIAM HADDON . I am Chairman of the Watchmakers Alliance, 184, Oxford Street, and receive a largo number of Postal Orders every day—one of the clerks opens the letters, and on every letter containing money, directly the envelope is unsealed he writes the person's name on the back of the postal order of the person sending it—this order has never reached our office.
MATTHEW TOWER . I am attached to the staff of the General Post Office—the prisoner was given into my custody on June 7th, and was charged with stealing two letters containing the two orders referred to—he made no reply.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. "Unfortunately I have not been able to get a solicitor. I have been away, and resumed duty on the 2nd instant. I was not arrested till the 7th, when I was taken to the room at Vere Street. I was asked by Plank where I was on the Thursday previous I explained to him; he said, 'You were seen going down Hampstead Road.'"
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANNIE KNIGHT (Examined by the prisoner). My husband is a waiter—you have been lodging with me for eleven years—I was at home at ten a.m. on June 3rd—you came home at 9.45—you had breakfasted with me at ten, and were at home until twelve or a little after—you went out before breakfast—after twelve you said you were going upstairs to lie down, I do not know whether you did or not—we usually have dinner soon after one, and I usually call up to you when it is ready—I did so that day—you came down, while we were having dinner.
Cross-examined. I do not know that he went out on Friday—he went out to work in the morning as usual—he went out one morning to buy some music, I think Thursday—I do not remember what he did on Wednesday or Tuesday—he went out at 11.45 on Friday, and came home at 12.10.
NELLIE KNIGHT . I am the daughter of the last witness—on Friday I went home at 11.30, and remained till after twelve—the prisoner was still at home in the kitchen—he was not dressed at 12.10 to go out—I left home for my situation at 12.10, when he was at home.
Cross-examined. My situation is in High Street, Marylebone—eleven to one is my rest time—I always start at the same time—I had no conversation with the prisoner—I cannot say when I saw him on Thursday—
I do not come home every day—I am not sure about Thursday—Friday is my pay day, and I like to go home—I get the beer at 11.30—the prisoner lodges with us—he was in the kitchen when I saw him—I have a watch and looked at it on Friday.
The prisoner in his defence said that he was very seldom called upon to sort he could not say whether the Exeter mail was two hours late that morning—if the mail was late he could not understand how there could be test letters, and if he had been called out to sort it would be for paper sorting and not letter sorting, and that he did not do any sorting that morning; that it was a very easy mistake to spell "Hampstead" without the "p"; that he had not seen the detective in private clothes before, and that he bought the stampt to send for some shoes; he complained of not being pointed out by the clerk at the Post Office, and was greatly agitated when he wrote, that he had been 13 years in the Post Office, and liad always tried to lead a proper life.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday and Friday, June 23rd and 24th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
441. ABRAHAM MOSES (20), PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for causing false entries to be inserted in a Marriage Register, and to unlawfully making a false declaration in regard to his marriage with Elizabeth Silver.— Judgment respited. And
442. ANNIE TAYLOR (37) , to forging and uttering an endorsement to a cheque for £1, and having been convicted of felony at Hammersmith on January 14th, 1884, in the name of Annie Hall.— Judgment respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
443. ROBERT WOOLLAMS (24) , Feloniously taking £10 from Charles George Dick on account of helping him to obtain possession of goods obtained by felony; Second Count.—Feloniously receiving 10s. obtained by the commission of a felony; Third Count.— Feloniously harbouring Wm. Pea, well knowing him to have committed a felony. (See Sessions Paper, Vol. cxxvi., p. 383, and Vol. cxxvi., p. 538).
MESSRS. C. MATHEWS and BODKIN prosecuted, MR. PURCELL defended.
CHARLES GEORGE DICK . I live at 115, St. George's Road, S. W.—I have no occupation—on Saturday, December 19th, 1896, I got off an omnibus at Victoria Station, about 7.30 p.m., and walked towards home—I noticed a man following and begging—I made my way to the Embankment—I was there assaulted by the man who had followed me, whom I now know as Harry Saunders, who has since been convicted—he took from me a turquoise pin, an overcoat, fur-lined, a watch and chain, about £1 in money, and a pocket-book with visiting cards with my address—the value in all was about £13—the man ran away, and I lost sight of him—I went home, got another coat, and went to Rochester Row Police Station and gave information to the police—on December 23rd, 1896, a man I now know as Wm. Allen called upon me—he has also been convicted—he was then a stranger—in consequence of a conversation with him that
evening, I went with my friend Mr. Gregory, an actor, on to the Embankment side of the Charing Cross District Station, through Villiers Street—I saw Allen outside the station—Mr. Gregory stayed behind and I went and spoke to him—he offered me some pawn tickets and asked for money—he showed me my pocket-book and a visiting card—I gave him either £5 or £10 and received the pawn tickets and other property—I took the tickets to my solicitor, Mr. Wallis—they were handed to the police and subsequently produced in Court, when I gave evidence against Marling, Saunders and Allen, who were convicted in this Court—I also gave evidence against Cliburn—on the trial of Marling and Saunders the visiting card-case was produced and identified by me—I have since destroyed it.
Cross-examined. I never saw this man—I had occasion to go to the urinal and then walked down the Wilton Road—I told Saunders not to follow, and said, "What do you want?"—he said, "I want assistance"—I replied, "I shall not give you anything," and walked on into Belgrave Road, he still followed and asked for assistance; I quickened my pace, turned into St. George's Square and crossed on to the Embankment—I was going rather away from my home to get rid of him—on the Embankment I said, "I won't have this," and gave him a shilling—he said, "This won't do," and seized me by the person, causing a feeling of pain and sickness"—my overcoat was undone to give him the shilling—I cried out "Stop thief!"—I did not see Saunders join another man—I have since seen Hine—Allen pleaded guilty; his sentence was postponed, I don't know why—upon Cliburn's trial Allen, and Saunders gave evidence—I have not heard of Allen declining to give evidence unless his sentence was reduced—he was not at the Police-court. against Woollams.
HARRY SAUNDERS . I am undergoing a sentence of five years' penal servitude for a robbery from the person on Mr. Dick, on December 19th, 1896, and stealing from him a watch, chain, fur-lined overcoat, and some money—I was introduced to the prisoner as Bob Woollams by Marling at the top of Edgware Road before the robber—I had seen him once before I was introducer, at an hotel in Upper Baker Street, where I was at work—the robbery on the embankment was on a Saturday night—that same evening I was with my brother-in-law, Robert Hine—I was then living at 16, Lyon's Place, Edgware Road, with my wife and children—I am a bricklayer—on December 19th, and later, I was working at Hammersmith under my brother—I took Hine home to keep him out of bad company—when I came from work I found him there—I took him home the night of the robbery—he was with me at the time of the robbery—I went out on Sunday, December 20th—I met Marling in the evening, when I was out walking with my wife—I saw him at the top of Edgware Road—I had a conversation with him, in consequence of which the next morning I went to an address he gave me, 57, Castle Street, Oxford Street—Hine was with me—in consequence of what was there arranged I went to Victoria Station by bus—I went into a public-house where the trams start for the bridge—I had handed the jewellery to Marling at the house in Castle Street—the coat Hine had on—Marling left the public-house with the jewellery—Hine and I afterwards left the public-house, and met Marling—he made
a communication and went back to the pawnbroker's with the same things—he then rejoined us, and we went to another public-house—at the second public-house Marling gave me the tickets for the watch and chain and diamond pin—he gave me some money, and I gave him some back—about £1—he told Hine to take off the coat, and he took it away—we followed him out, and he took the coat into a pawn-shop—walked to another public-house at the corner next the Music Hall—we stood a little while—Bob Woollams joined us—that was the second time I had spoken to him—I had seen him twice before—he said, "Is Marling pawning your things?"—I said, "Yes," and took him into the public-house, and gave him a drink—we all three went into a third public-house—a minute or two afterwards Marling joined us—he brought a ticket for the overcoat, and I gave him money for pawning it—the prisoner was present—I then had three pawn tickets, and was goiog to tear them up and put them down the gutter to get them out of the way, when Marling asked for one—I gave one for the pin and one for the overcoat, keeping the one for the watch and chain—an appointment was made for the next night at Glasshouse Street, Regent Street—Marling said he would get someone to buy the other ticket, and I waste bring the card and case that I had found in the pocket—I left Marling and Woollams at the third public-house, and came away with Hine—the next night I forgot the appointment, but I happened to be passing Regent Street with Hine—Marling came away from Bob Woollams, Bob Cliburn, and Will Allen—I did not then know Allen or Cliburn—Marling asked if I had the tickets, as he had brought the men to buy them—I said No, I had forgotten all about it—I had forgotten the appointment and everything—we three joined the other two—Allen said, "Have you got the ticket I have been brought here to buy?"—I said "No, I forgot all about it"—he asked me where it was—I told him "At home"—he asked me to go and fetch it—I said "No, let it drop"—he mentioned the card and card-case—they kept on for five or six minutes asking me to go and fetch it—I said, "I am not going right up the Edgware Road to benefit you"—I asked them first whether they had the £2 to give me—that was the price—Marling then asked Hine to fetch the ticket and card-case—after some further conversation he went—he asked me, and I paid his 'bus fare—the prisoner was present—after Hine left we all went into a public-house in Glasshouse Street, and there was some conversation which I did not notice—I there got the names Allen and Cliburn went by—Hine returned in about an hour and a-half or two hours—he brought the pocket book, and ticket, all trodden about, the children having played with them—he told me he had a hard job to find them. Hine gave them to Allen, who turned to the others and said quietly, "These will get us a £50 note"—I asked when I should get the £2 for the ticket—they told me to meet them the next night at the same place in Glasshouse Street about six o'clock—I was at work the next day—we do not knock off till about 6.15—I took a 'bus through Piccadilly, but got rather late for the appointment—I saw Woollams alone outside the same public-house—he said, "You are late, the others have gone away," but he said he would take me to a certain place to wait, and would give me the money for the tickets
—I told him I would give him a few shillings when he got the money—he was going a different way, but he said, "I will take you down to Charing Cross"—then he took me down, and he said, "Come on, I will take you where they are"—he took me to the Underground station at Charing Cross and on the bridge—he did not mention who the others were, but I knew, I saw them all there—I saw Allen, Cliburn, and Marling—Allen was coining up from the steps—I went on the bridge by the staircase on the Strand side from Villiers Street—two of them were on the bridge—when I joined we were all five together—Allen said to Marling and Cliburn, "This, is strange, I believe there's two detectives down there"—Cliburn said, "I'll go down and have a look"—he went down the staircase and came back—he said, "It is all right—it is nobody"—Allen said, "There he comes out of the station, there's a detective with him"—Cliburn went down a second time—after an interval he came back and said, "It is all right, it is only Gregory, the actor"—after some little conversation they left the bridge, but before they left they said quietly to Woollams, "What do you want to bring him here for?" meaning me—they called him on one side, and all four spoke together; then Allen and Cliburn started down the steps, leaving on the bridge Marling, myself, and Woollams—they were down there about five minutes—then Marling left the bridge—two or three minutes after Woollams left the bridge, telling me to stop on the bridge, they would not be long—I could not recognise them properly, but I could see one walking one way and another another, the station hiding where I was standing—I saw Cliburn across the road, and Woo'laras and Marling each side of Allen—after a time I saw Allen speaking to a short man I now know as Mr. Dick—when the four came together I rejoined them, and we made our way to a public-house by the Hotel Cecil and the Savoy Hotel—Allen called and paid for drink with some gold—then he handed me £2 or £3, and a few odd shillings—I am sure it was £2—I handed the few shillings to Woollams, saying, "That is for your trouble in getting me this," meaning the £2—they were handing money to one another—we left the public-house—I went Charing Cross way—Cliburn and Allen made an appointment to meet Woollams on the same night on some other business, I do not know where—Woollams, Marling, and I went to a coffee-house at the top of Regent Street, and having had, a meal, I went home—Marling was arrested on Sunday, January 9th, 1897—on the Monday following Woollams came to where I was working for my brother, near Finsbury Park Station, Hornsey way—my father and brother were working in shares—all my family are bricklayers—about dinner-time we were in a public-house—Woollams put his head in at the door and nodded to me to come out—we were all going back to work, and came out together—Woollams said, "Marling is pinched" meaning in custody—I asked him to have drink—we went back to the same public-house—my brother George, the foreman of the job, came in, and I called for the drink—before that the prisoner said, "The best thing for us is to clear out of it"—I said, "I have got my wife and children to look after"—I also said, "I have got work," and that I would not go—my brother
told me to get back to my work, as he could not spare me—I obeyed—I left the prisoner with my brother—I was bricklaying about half an hour after which the prisoner came across the road—I was only on the first scaffold, and he spoke to me from the ground—he said, "I am going to see Marling at Holloway," and that he would be back that afternoon—he came back about four and stopped till we left work—I borrowed 4s. or 5s. from my brother, because the prisoner said he was going to walk home—before that I had borrowed 2s. of my brother—I paid the prisoner's fare home and gave him 2s.—he went by the workmen's train from Finsbury Park to King's Cross—afterwards I was working for my father and brother near Hammersmith Church, at a school in King Street—I saw the prisoner coming along, and I asked him to have a drink—I came off the scaffold, and went into a public-house near—he said, "Detectives are after you all over the shop," and that if he was me he would get away—at the public-house he said, "Do you think your father would give me a job"—I said, "Yes, if you like to work"—I said I would ask for a job as improver to learn the trade of a bricklayer—nothing came of it—shortly afterwards my premises were visited by the police—I cleared away—the prisoner came to my job at Hornsey—he said the police were after me, and I had better get away—he said something about Marling going to be tried on the Friday—I went twice to Marling's rooms in Castle Street, the second time, two or three days afterwards, was a wet day about dinner time—Marling opened the door—it was one living and bed-room—Woollams was in bed—Marling was stripped and got back to bed—Woollams kicked him and said, "Get out and get my breakfast"—Marling got out and made some tea for him—I left—that was the last time I was at his rooms—I was with my brother-in-law.
Cross-examined. I had not been before convicted of robbing anybody, nor had Hine—I had not done any robbery—I took my brother-in-law Hine away from prostitutes, he had been mixing up with a big gang, and I took him home—my wife was in the family-way, and I came home from work and found him with my wife—I was always a teetotaller—he suggested I should rob Mr. Dick—I went with him and done it—my wife told me to go out with him—Mr. Dick did not say, "I won't have this," nor give me a shilling—I did not say "This won't do"—I did not seize him by his person—his coat was on his arm—he was a little bit intoxicated, and my brother-in-law said, "We'll rob him"—we were there about two minutes—we both robbed him and ran away with the things—we were not there half-an-hour—when I took his overcoat he said, "Give me that back," and I ran away—what I said about his indecent proposal was untrue—I was told by Marling to say what I did.—Mr. Purcell here read the witness's cross-examination of Mr. Dick on the previous trial.—Mr. Dick did make one indecent proposal to me before I robbed him—he told me to walk with him—my brother-in-law was with me—he said to his house, but he took me to the embankment—he told me to follow him wherever he went—that is how we came top near the bridge—what I said Marling told me to put in—Mr. Dick said, "Come with me and I will get you a few shillings"—I understood he wanted a job done, something of that—I did not know what it was—he said, "Follow me behind" and I did—it first occurred to me to rob him
when he told me to get hold of his person—I said, "Is that the job you want me for?" and "if that is the job you want me for I will lock you up," and he offered me some money, and I took the pin, and I saw his watch hanging out of his pocket, and I took the chain and watch, too—I left nothing of any value—Mr. Dick ran after me shouting "Stop thief!"—I was there altogether five or ten minutes—Mr. Dick did not call out till I got right away—a policeman's fixed point was just opposite—I suggest that Mr. Dick purposely waited till I got eighty yards away before he called out "Stop thief!"—it was not an arrangement, but it is the fact—I suggested at the trial that the things were given to me, so that I should not lock him up—I took them—he did not want me to take them—Hine was a witness against me—I gave Hine a hidiny two or three times because he brought prostitutes to my house, which I can prove he did, to live on my hard-earned money—there were no people to run after me, only the policeman on duty—Hine was at the corner and took the overcoat—he put it on, I did not tell him to—if he swears I said, "Put on that coat," it is not true—I said, "Jump into a cab or else we shall get pinched"—we drove to the Marble Arch, and I showed him the watch and chain and 6s.—I had made up my mind to rob Mr. Dick—Hine said, "Look at that, anybody could rob him"—I was examined at Cliburn's trial—I gave evidence against this man at the Police-court.—I was not asked about what was said to Woollams about me on the bridge—they asked about Cliburn and I told them—I said it at the Court—my brother George was in the public-house with the other workmen—when Woollams looked in he came out with the others and came back—I did not go away and leave Woollams with George; if he says so that must be a lie—the workmen would confirm me—I cannot give their names, I only know them as Dick, Harry, and so on—I swear Woollams came to my work—I am confined at Bostal prison, near Chatham.
ROBERT HINE . I live at 2, Stanley Mews, St. Mary's Square, Paddington—I am a painter and grainer—I am the last witness's brother-in-law—on December 19th, 1896 I had been living with him at 16, Lyon's Place—that evening I was out with him near Victoria Station—Saunders left me at the corner of a public-house—he went out of sight—I saw him afterwards talking to a gentleman about thirty or forty yards away—one followed the other, I cannot say which—I followed them to the Embankment—from 10 to 20 yards off on the Embankment I lost sight of them, then I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I was looking for them—I next saw them running—I ran with other people in the same direction—I was about 200 yards away—I again lost sight of them—in about ten minutes Saunders came down the Square to the Embankment with an overcoat—he told me to put it on and I did—we got in a cab and drove to the Marble Arch—in the cab he showed me a watch, chain and scarf pin—at the Marble Arch we got out of the cab and went to Lyons Place to Saunders' house—we left the things in the house—we slept there—I went out with Saunders on the Sunday—on the Monday we went to Castle Street and saw Marling—I did not know him—I had seen him in the Edgware Road once or twice—Saunders took all the things to Marling, who told him to call in an hour—I think Saunders left the property there—when we came back the three of us
went to Victoria by 'bus—we went to a public-house—Marling went and pawned the things—at Victoria we met the prisoner Woollams outside the public-house—that was before the things were pawned—he was a stranger to line—the things were not all taken at once—the prisoner was with us at Victoria all the time—then Saunders and I went to Petticoat Lane, Houndsditch—I continued to live at Saunders' house—two or three days afterwards I saw the prisoner at Marling's house—Saunders asked me to go—we went together—Marling got out of bed to let us in—it was before one o'clock—we stopped an hour or two—they both got up—I next saw the prisoner close upon a fortnight afterwards, outside a public-house in the Edgware Road, near the Marble Arch—he asked me where Saundere was—I was still living with Saunders—I said I did not know—he walked away—I saw the pawn-tickets when they were brought from the pawnshop on the Monday—I was outside a public-house in Glasshouse Street—Saunders sent me home for the tickets—Allen and Marling were there, and a lot more—I do not remember the prisoner being there—I went to Lyons Place and got the tickets—I found them in a vase, with the visiting-card and case—Mr. Dick's name was on the card—I gave them all to Saunders outside the same public-house I had left to get them—I remained outside—Saunder's came out of the public-house, and we went home together.
Cross-examined. I was not at work on December 19th—Saunders was, if I recollect right—I am not certain—I gave evidence against him once—he asked me to go to Victoria—he said, "If I speak to anyone you follow me"—I saw him go into the urinal—when I was Cross-examined by Saunders here I said, "When you came home from work on Saturday you gave me 1s., and told me to go down into the road. You went into the Shakespeare with another man, and then went over to the station. You said you had given that man a drink, which meant 10s., and that would make up for loss of work"—then I went to the urinal, and saw Mr. Dick come out—Saunders appeared to be speaking to him—it is not true to say that we made up our minds to rob Mr. Dick—I had not made up my mind to rob him—if Sounders says it was my proposal it is a wicked lie—I never went in the urinal—I did not lead Saunders astray, he was too old for that—it is not true that he tried to save me, because he turned me out—I did not know what Saunders was doing, he never told me—I swore at this Court "I was 50 yards away when I heard some one call out and saw one man running after another—before that they remained against the pier for half an hour—I was on the opposite side waiting—then I saw them run"—that is true—ray memory failed me—I did not see Saunders seize Dick by his private parts—I was not near Saunders—I never saw Saundeis after leaving the public-house till after I saw Mr. Dick—I never said, "Let us rob him"—Mr. Dick ran after Saunders calling out, "Stop thief!" several times—after 60 or 70 yards more people were attracted who followed in pursuit—I met Saunders accidentally coming from a turning—I followed from curiosity—I was surprised when Saunders asked me to put an Astrachan coat on—I did not ask where he got it—I do not suppose he would have told me—I asked him in the
cab—he said, "Jump into a cab, or else we shall get pinched"—that means locking up—he was thinking about himself—I asked him where he got the watch and chain from, and he said, "I have got it, and that is enough," something like that—he showed me a sovereign and 6s.—the rest of the evening we spent at a place of amusement—the next day I went out with Saunders—he said he still had the old "toff's" coat—I do not recollect his mentioning an indecent proposal—I have seen McCarthy—I cannot say how often.
Re-examined. I have been a painter and grainer since I was thirteen—I am twenty-three now—I have worked for more than one governor a short time—Saunders married ray sister—I lived with him some years.
WALTER LAWLER . I am assistant to Mr. Button, a pawnbroker, of 156, Victoria Street—on Monday, December 21st, 1896, Marling pawned a pin, chain, watch, and overcoat for £5 15s.—the jewellery was pledged together and the coat a quarter of an hour later—the address relating to the jewellery was 16, Warwick Street, and to the coat 10, Warwick Street—the coat was real fur-lined and rather warm—I have seen the tickets—I knew Cliburn, Allen, and Marling as customers, but not Saunders or Woollams.
WILLIAM EDWARD GREGORY . I am an actor of the Grove, Wandsworth—I am a friend of Mr. Dick—I went with him on the evening of December 23rd, 1896, to the Charing Cross District Station, the Embankment side—he left me there to speak to a man—after that he came and spoke to me—then he spoke again to the man—I waited for him—I lost sight of him—I saw him later at my rooms.
GEORGE SAUNDERS . I am a foreman bricklayer, of 24, Somerset Place, Bridge Road, Hammersmith—the prisoner Saundera is my brother—in January, 1897, I was building some shops at Hornsey—I was in partnership with my father—my brother John was employed keeping the men's time—when we were having our dinner in a public-house the prisoner came to the door and calle my brother out—he came back, and at his request I lent him 2s.—he said he must have a drink, and they went to the private bar—that was the second time I saw the prisoner—my brother paid out of the 2s. I lent him, and I paid for another drink—we stayed about a quarter of an hour—I left the prisoner and my brother in the bar—I had to go to start the men at one o'clock.
Cross-examined. I had not seen the man before who called my brother out—we were all three together about five minutes—I had been sitting in a comer reading a newspaper—it would not be true to say that my brother went out and left me and his friend together—my brother called me out after two or three minutes; then my brother borrowed 2s.—he borrowed no more that day—I went away to a job at Hammersmith—it is not true that my brother borrowed 4s. or 5s. more that day—I could not see much of the man who put his head in at the door—I was asked what I remembered, when I went to the Police-court. on May 19th, 1898—I cannot swear to the prisoner—I have not sworn to him.
Re-Examined. According to my belief I think he is the man—I picked him out at the Police-court. to the best of my recollection.
knew him as Robert Bruce—he had an apartment downstairs on the ground floor with his wife—he went out in the morning and came back in the evening at regular hours—I did not know what he was till afterwards from the papers.
Cross-examined. I saw in the papers that he was a betting man, and that he was fined £5 for creating an obstruction.
JOHN MAGUIRE (Serjeant, B) On April 24th I went to 126, Clarence Road, Canning Town—I found the prisoner on the ground floor—I had a warrant dated April 23rd, 1897, in the name of Woollams—I had made every effort to discover him—I was acting with McCarthy, who had the warrant; he was my superior—the warrant was for conspiring to receive property, to wit, a pocketbook, an overcoat, and divers other articles, value £10, the property of George Charles Dick, which had been previously stolen, well knowing the property to have been feloniously stolen—the names of Robert Cliburn and Robert Woollams were included—when I saw Woollams I said, "You are Bob Woollams?"—I had known him by sight—he said, "Yes"—I was with another officer—I said, "We are police officers"—he said, "Yes, you are Mr. Maguire?"—I said "Yes, I hold a warrant for your arrest, I will read it for you"—before I had finished reading he said, "That will do, I know"—I conveyed him to Plaistow Police Station—on the way he said, "What did you say I was charged with?"—I said, "Conspiring with Robert Cliburn and receiving an overcoat and other articles belonging to Mr. Dick, knowing them to have been stolen"—he said, "But in a case of conspiracy you must get some reward, but I never had a penny piece, not even a glass of beer"—then he said, "I might have had a glass of beer, that is all, but it was my misfortune to be there, Allen should have got seven years instead of Cliburn"—I took him to Plaistow Police Station and searched him—he had four £10 Bank of England notes and £1 0s. 6d. silver and 2d. bronze—I conveyed him to Gerald Road Police Station, where he was charged by Inspector McCarthy in my presence—in answer to the charge he said, "I am not guilty. Allen owed me some money, and I went with him that night thinking I should get it, but all I got was a glass of beer"—I searched the rooms at 126, Clarence Road, after I had taken him to the station, haying left another officer there—I found betting books, memoranda, and these two photographs, and three cards with the names and addresses on them—one is a trade card; also two £5 I. O. U's dated in March, 1898—there were three rooms occupied by the prisoner, and a little boy who I was told was a visitor—I made inquiries in Cliburn's case—I was at the trial in this Court—I saw a fairly full report in the newspapers.
Cross-examined. The betting-books were in the kitchen and in the front room—the cards were in a desk in the front room—I have been with McCarthy to the gentlemen's addresses—McCarthy spoke to them—I saw one.
JOHN MCCARTHY (Police Inspector, B). I saw the prisoner at Gerald Road—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I am not guilty, Allen owed me money, and I thought if I went down there with him I should get it, but I got nothing. All I had was a glass of beer."
Cross-examined. I ascertained that his mother had let lodgings in Thanet Place, and that she died recently leaving him some property, I am informed £200—she had been a householder for some years—as a boy he bad helped her sometimes—I have been to two addresses—I have seen three gentlemen—I went to the public-house—the gentlemen are not here—I went to one at the Crystal Palace—I sometimes have difficulty to get witnesses to the Police-court.—if the evidence is important I ask for a summons.
Re-examined. I have had the warrant since April, 1897—we madestrenuous endeavours to find the prisoner—I went to where I had seen him—I had known him associated with associates of the convicted men. as Robert Lawrence; not with the convicted men—I was told afterwards his name was Woollams—his mother's name was Woollams—one gentleman I saw identified this card as his—I requested him to come to the Police-court., and he declined.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:" I am not guilty on either of the charges. I call no witnesses."
GUILTY .—He received a good character, but Inspector McCarthy stated that he had been in the habit of taking persons to Marling to be blackmailed.— Four Years' Penal Servitude. Inspector McCarthy was highly commended by the COURT.
MR. BODKIN and MR. PERCIVAL CLARKE Prosecuted, and MR. WILLES
HUGH MAXWELL . I am managing director of the Dock Head Meta Company, Limited, 96, Bermondsey Street—on January 30th, 1896, Vosper called and said he wanted to introduce business on commission—we manufacture tin boxes—I agreed to pay him 5 per cent, commission, 2 1/2 when the orders were approved, and 2 1/2 upon the purchase being completed and the goods paid for—on June 25th, 1896, I received this letter from him for 100,000 tins as per sample, and on June 30th this letter from A. W. Wilson, manufacturer and importer to Vosper, for 100,000 boxes as per sample—this was enclosed by the prisoner—I wrote to Wilson, and received in reply this letter of July 2nd from A. W. Wilson, 13, Carysfort Road, confirming the order, and on the same day a letter from Vosper, asking if I had received confirmation, and, if so, for half the commission—I replied the following day, saying that I had received confirmation of the order, and forwarding cheque for £3 9s., half the commission—then I received this letter from Vosper—(Stating that his customer complained of the delay)—on November 4th I wrote, advising the delivery of 20,000, part of the 100,000 King of Spades—I received this letter from Wilson of November 6th, answering my letter of the 5th, ordering a second lot of card tins—on November 9th I wrote to Vosper enclosing a cheque for £3 9s., the commission on some domino tins—on November 13th we began delivering the King of Spades boxes to Wilson—I received a letter of November 21st and other letters from Wilson from time to time, complaining of the goods and the delay—I
wrote explaining that our engine had broken down—I received a letter of December 10th from Wilson, now of 27, Halliford Street—(Pressing for a larger delivery)—on December 14th I received this postcard from Wilson, stating that the 250 gross delivered would "only last till dinner-time to-morrow"—I sent in an account to Wilson for £28 19s. 3d. for goods delivered on November 13th, 19th, and 26th, 1896—he paid me a cheque, for which I gave him a receipt—in January, 1897, I sent him an account for £28 19s. 3d.—he paid that—on January 21st I wrote to Wilson, saying that I should be obliged for a settlement for the last account for £168 1s. 9d.—in reply I received a letter written on the back of his memorandum form, with a telegraphic address "Overwrought, London," and a second letter of January 23rd—(Complaining that the deliveries were not in accordance with requirements, and enclosing a bill for £168s. 1s. 9d. at three months, acceptable at the Economic Bank, 34, Old Broad Street, E. C.)—the bill was paid in—it was not met—I wrote this letter of January 25th to Wilson—(Expressing surprise and asking for the balance of the account.)—I received this letter of January 28th from Wilson—(Adthering to his former letter, and stating that the goods would be sent on in due course.)—these transactions with Wilson caused me to write to Vosper this letter of February 11th—(Asking to see him about Wilsons unsatisfactory behaviour.)—Vosper answered that on February 18th—(This stated: "I will call to-morrow re Wilsons, as they are, I believe, in trouble over the account")—on February 19th I wrote this letter to Vosper—(inquiring when Wilson would call)—on February 22nd Wilson called, and I agreed to take a bill for £168—on March 2nd I wrote to Wilson, "We are surprised we have not received your cheque to-day as promised," and on 6th I received his post-card saying, "Referring to our conversation I regret to be unable to do as requested"—other goods had been supplied—the debt was £324 6s. 2d., including the acceptance—we stopped the delivery about the end of January—we supplied 1,675 gross of tins—Wilson returned goods, value £100, in 1897—his total payments were £43 19s.—he sent cheques, which were dishonoured—in conversations Vosper said he could not understand how there was any difficulty, that he had had small transactions with Wilson himself, which were satisfactory—I had been to Halliford Street—I saw my goods there—Wilson gave me this post-dated cheque for £20, which was presented to the London and SouthWestern Bank, and returned marked "Refer to drawer"—Vosper knew all about it, as I continued telling him we could not get any satisfaction from Wilson—he said he believed Vosper to be a respectable man—on February 16th I received this letter from Vosper—(Stating that he was sorry to have occasioned so much trouble and to have entailed so much extra expense himself, and denying that he had anything to do with the Acme Novelty Company except small sales.)—I had no communication with him after July or August, 1897—he wrote the letter spontaneously—I replied that day—(Agreeing to credit Vosper with 5 per cent commission on any sound orders, and as soon as the amounts exceeded the order of the Court, no further steps would be taken.)—I had an order of the County Court—he asked to act—he had ceased to have anything to do with us after we took proceedings in the County Court—when wilson Was prosecuted here I did not give evidence—Vosper, in March,
1897, bought part or the stock of tins, 111 gross, that was left on our hands, at 3s. 3d. a gross, not having been delivered to the Acme Novelty Company—he did not pay for several small lots amounting to £18 Os. 9d.—we got a County Court judgment—then he was arrested on another charge—he paid the first account—I was told that he was associated with Wilson in the Acme Novelty Company—at the time I executed the orders of Wilson I thought Vosper was acting for us as our agent, and selling to Wilson for us.
Cross-examined. I did not know Vosper before he called upon us—I knew he had been with two firms—the makers of the same class of goods—he was with a tobacconist when we took proceedings against him—he did not tell me he was acting for Wilson—he said he was traveller for the Acme Novelty Company—he introduced one other order—about £200 was paid—the contract is still going on—his commission on that is £8 or £10—he has not been paid—the boxes are sold at 1d. each—I asked Vosper what quantity the Acme Novelty Company had on hand—he recovered £103 worth which they could not sell—we have some of them now—he paid one instalment on the judgment summons before he was arrested.
HENRY. FREDERICK WHYMARK . I am a builder, of 7, Foxham Road, Tuffuell Park—I am the owner of 13, Carysfort Road—it is a private house let at £42 per annum—in January, 18 6, Wilson came about it, and after referring to his previous landlord I let the property at £42 a year—I got half a quarter's rent, £5 5s.—he came in in March and remained with his wife and family till September—we put the brokers in, but found nothing to seize—we saw some tea boxes at the back, but no Ty-pan tea nor bedsteads.
Cross-examined. I never saw Vosper.
CHARLES FREDERICK HUGGETT . I am a buyer for Messrs. Eaton and Taylor, Crooked Lane, Birmingham, wholesale wire merchants and manufacturers—in 1897 I saw boxes like these, bearing the name of the Dock Head Metal Co. and the King of Spades—I asked the Dock Head Metal Company for a quotation—after obtaining some from the Acme Novelty Company, I wrote to them, and received in December, 1896, samples and this letter stating they could only manufacture 200 gross a day, and asking for a firm's order—I ordered 52 gross of playing cards in enamel cases, and received them, with a letter of February 11th, 1897, from Halliford Street, enclosing an in voice amounting to £154s.—we paid that by cheque—later on the Acme Novely wanted to buy from us some Jubilee crosses—we asked for references—we sent a printed circular—on March 25th we received from the Acme Company the name of R. H. Vosper, 24, Miranda Road—we wrote on 25th and on 26th and received this reference, "I have every confidence in this firm, having had cheque promptly on becoming due, that is, monthly, and the no hesitation in giving them credit for the amount you mention"—we received an order, but did not execute it, having made further inquiries.
JOHN THOMAS LAWRENCE . I trade with my father as importers, at 112, Houndsditch—in November, 1896, Wilson offered me a number of tin boxes with playing cards, the King of Spades began the boxes, which were like these produced—I bought on November 26th, 20 gross for £6 15s. on November 28th, 40 gross for £13 10s.; on November 30th, 36
gross for £12 3s.; on December 2nd, 36 gross for £11 16s. 3d.; December 3rd, 44 gross for £14 17s.; December 4th, 40 gross for £13 10s,; December 9th, 22 gross for £7 11s. 10d—they were paid for by cash—these are the receipts signed, "Received with thanks pp. The Acme Novelty Company, A. W. Wilson" on the printed form of that company, 27, Haliford Street, with a telegraphic address "Defyer, London"—I have sold them all.
ERNEST VICARY . I am clerk to Mr. James Wisby, of 77 and 84, Houndsditch—on December 12th, 1896, my firm bought from the Acme Novelty Company, 27, Haliford Street, 54 gross of domino cards and 55 gross of playing cards, in boxes, for £37 9s. 6d.; and on March 3rd 41 12th dozen, and on March 6th two gross of Jubilee trays for £3 10s. 3d.—we paid by cheques which I produce, and the receipts.
EDWARD COOK . I am warehouseman to Mr. Henry Nathan, merchant, of 102, Fore Street—on December 22nd, 1896, I bought from Wilson, as representing the Acme Novelty Company, 50 gross King of spades boxes for £17 10s.—I paid by this cheque, which is endorsed by Wilson for the Acme Company, and paid by our bank.
HYMAN JACOBS . I am a fancy goods dealer of 54 and 55, Houndsditch—I have had these dealings with Vosper and produce the invoices and receipts; in May, 1897, I bought 89 and 36 gross of cards in boxes for £25 18s.; in June, 60 gross for £12 3s.; 50 gross for £10 7s. 2d.; 60 gross for £12 15s.; 90 gross for £18 3s. 6d.; and 40 gross for £8 5s. 9d.; in July, 125 gross of toy playing cards in farthing boxes for £5 4s. 8d.; also 375 gross, and 125 gross of playing cards in boxes—the last invoice was not from Vosper, though I understood they came from him from the young man whom I afterwards saw in the dock at the North London Police Court, and who was acquitted last Session (Hugh Wilson)—the invoice is marked "R. H. Vosper"—I spoke to Vosper about it, and he said that had no right to have been done because they did not come from him—I understood he was Vosper's son because he came with every delivery, and he offered the samples—he signed a good many receipts and took away the money—he signed the £5 invoice as Vosper—these other receipts are signed by Vosper—I believe I bought some domino cards from the Acn Novelty Company, but I cannot find the invoice.
Cross-examined. The invoices are printed in the name of R. H. Vesper, with the address, 21, Miranda Road—I dealt with him as principal—I did not notice this one from 61, Gracechurch Street.
JOHN HENRY EVISON . I am a buyer in the fancy department of Crisp and Company, Limited, Seven Sisters Road—in December, 1896, I bought from Mr. Wilson, of the Acme Novelty Company, 18 gross of domino boxes and playing cards for £6 4s. 6d.; in March, 1897, 100 gross of King of Spade boxes for £20 in the course of business—he was paid through the counting-house—these are the receipts.
HENRY RUSTON . I am clerk to Mr. Marlow, of the Excelsior Works, Dudley—in August, 1896, that business belonged to Samuel Sproston, then Mr. Marlow bought it—I received this letter of August 21st, 1896, from G. and A. Dyas, 13, Carysfort Road, Stoke Newington, Typan Tea Company, and Hotel caterers—(Stating that their client had had a new wing to his premises, and required half-dozen sets of bedsteach)—I supplied
particulars, and received this order for twelve bedsteads, giving as reference R. H. Vosper, 9, Mincing Lane, to whom I wrote, enclosing stamped envelope for reply, and received this answer on the printed form with the telegraphic address of the Acme Company: "Defyer, London"—(From R. H. Vosper, and stating that in reply to inquiry of the 26th inst. with regard to the Typan Tea Company, the transactions had been entirely satisfactory, but as it was a new firm caution was advisable)—I despatched the thirteen bedsteads, value £11 11s. 2d.—we never were paid—we never saw the bedsteads again—I never saw anything of Vosper.
GERTRUDE GRAHAM . I am now the office-keeper at 9, Mincing Lane—we have no tenant named Vosper—I shall have been there five years next September—I have no husband—I never saw the name of Vosper on any of the doors.
Cross-examined. There are nearly 100 tenants, and between 200 and 300 rooms—we had a Mr. Clark there.
FREDKRICK JOHN DEVENPORT . I am a salesman in the bed department of Messrs. Crisp and Co.—on December 3rd, 1896, someone I had not seen before offered some bedsteads for sale—he gave the name of Dyas and Co.—I bought six from designs which he had for three guineas—they were delivered new and in straw—a few days afterwards I bought six more for £4 10s.—I paid him £7 13s. for the twelve—I have sold them—he did not say where he got them, nor why he wanted to sell them.
HENRY DAINTRY . I am traveller for Messrs. Rowley and Davis, 27, Mincing Lane, tea merchants—I have seen Wilson and Wilkins, who were convicted last Sessions—this letter of August 25th, 1896, signed by "G. and A. Dyas," was handed to me (this was for samples of tea,) in consequence of which I went to Carysfort Road, and had an interview with Mr. Dyas (Wilkins,) and in result received an order for three chests of tea—he gave me as one of his references the name of Vosper, of 9, Mincing Lane—I called there and found the door locked—I asked the housekeeper, who thought he might be out—his name was painted under the name "Clark," in the left corner of the door—the housekeeper told me I should find it there—I called twice or three times—I found nobody—I wrote Dyas and Co. stating that I could not find Vosper, and received this reply:—"We are surprised you should have been in convenienced in going to Mr. Vosper's office, as no doubt his business, like that of others in Mincing Lane, is done outside"—we supplied goods to the amount of, £37—the account was not paid.
JAMES SWAFFIELD . I am a buyer in the tea department of Crisp and Co.—a man representing himself as Mr. Dyas, of 13, Carysfort Road, came in September, 1896—I saw him last Sessions in this Court as A. W. Wilson—he offered, and I bought from him, 300 lbs. of tea for £16 5s., which was delivered to us—he was paid through the counting-house.
ALBERT LUDOVICI . I am a clerk in the Economic Bank, Palmerston Buildings, Old Broad Street—Albert William Wilson, of 13, Carysfort Road, kept an account there from October, 1836, till March, 1897—I produce a certified copy from the ledger—in it I find the name of R. H. Vosper appearing frequently as the payee of cheques drawn upon the account.
garden goes through to Almora Road—a building runs along the garden which was a coach-house, but has been altered into a workshop, which we sublet—there is a separate entrance in the Almora Road—on November 23rd. 1896, Vosper came about it—he said it would suit him, and that he would see his partner and let me know—later the same day he and a Mr. Wilson came—Wilson agreed to take it at 6s. a week—Wilson paid a deposit—he paid the rent—"The Acme Novelty Company" was painted across the door—it remained till the end of February last—the windows were open—I saw half-a-dozen girls at work—they packed those small metal tins into boxes—my boy took a lot of them—Vosper was there nearly every day till August—a great many inquiries were made about them—Wilson's son was there the latter part of the time, but his father not so often—I saw goods delivered and took them in myself if the carriage was paid—the rent 6s. a week was paid regularly.
JAMES MORLEY (Police-Serjeant, N). On the evening of February 24th I saw Vosper at 38, Pembroke Road, Walthamstow—I told him I was a police officer, and had a warrant for his arrest—I read it to him—he said "I started the Acme Novelty Company with Wilson—it went all right at first—I left it about Jubilee last—he paid me 5 per cent. commission and expenses—I saw Wilson a short time ago—he told me everything was going on all right—he asked me to give him a reference—I gave him three, and declined to give him any more"—I was in the parlour, and he said, "You have just taken a letter from the table that I have received from a firm, thanking me for having advised them to send no goods without cash to the Acme Novelty Company"—I searched the house and found various billheads of the Acme Novelty Company, one letter from the Climax Gear Case Company, of February 17th, to Mackenzie Bros., of 20, Budge Row, who was Wilkins, who was convicted last Sessions; billheads of R. H. Vosper, 9, Mincing Lane, Monument Chambers, 24, Miranda Road, and of 38, Pembroke Road, Walthamstow, and in which he is described as a Continental and Colonial Importer—the reference sent to Eaton and Taylor, and other references produced, given by Vosper on behalf of Wilson to various firms, the last being on February 23rd, two days after Wilson's arrest, but it is, "I cannot advise any business, even on a cash basis"—some of them advise that Wilson is good for £20, and some for £30—I also found these letters from Wilson to Vosper, as well as the correspondence with Mate Bros., the Acme Novelty Company, and others produced—in consequence of instructions from Inspector Nearn, I kept observation on the Acme Novelty Company, 27, Halliford Street—there was a shed in the garden with an entrance in the Almora Road with the name of the Acme Novelty Company—I observed goods were brought and soon taken away—some cases were transferred from one van to another—I saw Vosper there once—I saw Wilson there, and his son frequently dodging in and out.
Cross-examined. I seized all the papers I found about Vosper—some were handed back by the Inspector.
JAMES NEARN (Detective Inspector, N). I am stationed at Stoke Newington—I made inquiries, having assisted in the arrest of the men who were convicted last Sessions—Morley showed me some papers, which had come from Mate Brothers and Wakefield, of Poole, in Dorsetshire, wholesale
stationers and printers, and makers of playing-cards—I have seen Vosper and Wilson write—among those papers from Mate Bros, are documents in the writing of Vosper and Wilson—among the documents found at Vosper's relating to confetti, etc., are accounts unpaid to which letters from Mate Brothers refer—the amount of unpaid accounts of Vosper was £24 17s. 3d, and of Wilson £225 12s. 7d., in the name of the Acme Novelty Company—among other things which Mate Brothers supplied to the Acme Novelty Company were thousands of gross of playing-cards—I find letters in Vosper's writing in the name of Lawrence on the Acme Company paper, with the telegraphic addresses, one being "Defyer, London" and the other of January 15th, 1897, "Overwrought"—at the Acme Company's premises was Wilson's unpaid cheque for one guinea to the Postmaster-General, dishonoured—one guinea is the charge for a telegraphic address—I also find letters to Mate Brothers in Vosper's writing in the name of Lawrence, St. Paul's Buildings, Paternoster Row, E. C., and one unpaid account in that name for £1 18s., dated March 17th, 1897,—I have looked through the books found at Wilson's private residence, and I find entries of firms from whom goods have been purchased, and to whom goods have been sold, including Crisp's—the date "April 9th, 1897," is Vosper's writing—this book commences November 26th, 1896—it is only a day-book—I found other books with Vosper's writing in—this entry "R. H. V., 5s." is the prisoner's initial—I produce unpaid bills of the Acme Company from February, 1897, to February, 1898, amounting to £427 7s. 1 1/2 d.
Cross-examined. I handed back to the prisoner, and have his receipt for an insurance-book and a cash-book signed "Reginald H. Vosper"—I have no recollection of a letter from Lambert and Butler, or of an agreement with Player and Sons—I believe the prisoner was in Player and Son's employment when arrested—he was also employed by Salmon and Gluckstein I believe—I do not know that his salary was £250 a year—I have made inquiries about him.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, June 24th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. SIMMONS Prosecuted.
EDWARD SWAINSON . I am barman at the Phoelignix public-house, 42, North Street, Edgware Road—on Friday, May 17th, the prisoner was in the private bar—Gibbs was also there—they were both sitting—Gibbs was drinking a glass of ale—I heard the prisoner say to him, "Who are
you?—Gibbs replied, "I am a decorator"—the prisoner said, "You are no decorator; I know what you are, you are a dirty, rotten ponce—Gibbs said, "You had better mind what you say"—the prisoner jumped up and said, "What! Do you want to fight?"—Gibbs said, "No, I do not want to fight"—my attention was then taken away to serve a customer at the other side of the bar, and when I returned to the private bar I found them both struggling on the floor—I went round the counter and ejected them both—I pulled them right out on to the pavement—there they got up and sparred at each other, and struck each other, and they closed and fell, Gibbs underneath: he struck his head in the road, rendering him unconscious—he fell on the top of his head—he got up, picked up his hat and a parcel on the pavement, and went away—two men picked him up, and some brandy and water was fetched, and he was taken away—about half an hour afterwards I he prisoner came back and wanted some beer—I refused it—he said, "Somebody has stolen my hat"—I said I knew nothing about it—he used disgusting language to me, and I ejected him again—he seized a bottle of mineral water; a man then rushed at him and took it from him, he then rushed at me several times, and I knocked him down—at the time of the fight both the men were perfectly sober—I did not hear anybody ask them to stand a drink.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were in the bar before Gibbs came in—I did not say before the Coroner that when you went outside I saw half a dozen blows exchanged—Gibbs did not challenge you for a drink—he did not want to have anything to do with you.
HENRY WELDON . I live at 56, Richmond Street, and am a goods porter on the Great Western—on Friday afternoon, May 17th, I was in the private bar at the Phoenix—I saw the prisoner and Gibbs sitting down together—the prisoner asked Gibbs what he was by trade—Gibbs said, "a decorator"—the prisoner called him a dirty rotten ponce—Gibbs said, "Don't call me that again"—the prisoner jumped up and said, "Do you wish to fight?"—Gibbs said, "No"—the prisoner struck him, and they fell on the floor—the barman came and ejected them—I did not go out till the fight finished—I saw them fall—J went and picked Gibbs up—they were both lying in the road, the prisoner on the top—I assisted to pull him off—Gibbs was unconscious—some brandy and water was brought, and two men came and took him home—I saw a blow struck in the bar, and it made Gibbs dazed—outside I saw the prisoner strike a blow and they fell—I did not hear anybody ask for a drink—there was nobody there but us three—the prisoner was not wearing glasses at the time.
Cross-examined. You gave the first blow—Gibbs did not threaten to strike you in the head—I have known a man named Chester since this affair, not before—I did not get a character from him and then disgrace myself—he never gave me a character.
HENRY BLOOMFIELD . I am a labourer, and live at 40, North Street—I was in the public house with a friend—I heard a row in the bar—I saw the barman in the act or pulling out the prisoner and deceased—I finished my beer and went out—the deceased was then on the kerb—the prisoner struck him in the mouth, and he fell down and the prisoner atop of him—while on the ground the prisoner got up and struck him a violent
below, calling him a name—I and another man pulled him off the deceased, and then picked up the deceased—he was senseless—some brandy was bought out, he came too a little, and we took him home—he had worked at the same place as me, but not with me—he was a middle aged man.
Cross-examined. He did not fall while we were taking him home.
CHARLES JOSEPH WATSON . I am a painter's labourer, and live at 57, North Street—on 17th May I was with Bloomfield at the Phoenix—on hearing a noise I went outside and saw the prisoner and deceased—they were standing up—the prisoner struck Gibbs, and he fell on the ground, the prisoner on the top of him—he struck him again while he was on the Around—Bloomfield and another man pulled the prisoner off—Gibbs was unconscious—we took him home—he did not fall—I held him up.
Cross-examined. In going home the prisoner remarked; "It is all through the drink; through the people asking for drink."
JANE WALKER . I am the wife of Thomas Walker, of 1, Orchard Street—the deceased lived there—he was 43 years old, and was a painter and decorator—on Friday afternoon, 17th May, he was brought home—he complained of pains in his head, he was conscious—I got him upstairs and bathed his head—I saw a mark on the back of his head—he did not seem to have a bit of life in him—he was cold and shivered dreadfully—I put him to bed and covered him up—my son slept in the same room with him—he called me in the morning about five, and I found him dead.
HENRY WALKER . Gibbs slept in the same room with me—I got up at a quarter to five in the morning—I tried to wake him, and spoke to him, but could get no answer; I felt him—he was quite cold, and I called mother and father.
CORAM JAMES . I am a divisonal surgeon—early on May 17th I was called to the deceased—I found him lying on his back, dead and quite cold—he must have been dead some forty-eight hours—I made a post-mortem examination—on the back of his head there was a contusion about the size of half a walnut, and beneath that a good deal of extravasated blood—the skull was not fractured—beneath the skull-cap there was a large dot of blood, causing syncope and laceration of the brain, and from which he died—a blow or fall would cause that—there were confusions on his face, but not important.
GEORGE BLACKBURN (Inspector, D). On the morning of May 28th, about five minutes past six, I went to 6, Orchard Street, and found the prisoner and a female in a room there—I told him I should arrest him on suspicion of causing the death of a man named Gibbs by knocking him down outside the Phoenix, about three, on Saturday afternoon—he replied, "I know nothing about it, and because I would not treat the lot I was ill-used, and kicked on the head—I have still a lump on the back of my head—and they also stole my hat, I had to buy a new one"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he made no reply—there was a slight lump at the back of his head.
ROBERT SHARMAN (Chief Inspector, D). About nine on the morning of May 27th I went to North Street and saw the body of Gibbs—next morning about forty minutes past seven I saw the prisoner—I said, "You will be charged with causing the death of a man named Gibbs by knocking him down—he said, "I did not knock him down—I was knocked
down myself and brutally ill-treated, and had my hat stolen, because I would not stand drinks"—he was charged, and made no reply.
GUILTY .—Eight convictions of assault on different persons were proved against him.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, June 24th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the JURY in consequence of his being in liquor.— Judgment Respited.
450. WILLIAM GEORGE FROST (25) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully taking away Caroline Jackson, a girl under sixteen, in order that she should be carnally known. He received a good character.— One Day's Imprisonment. And
(451) WILLIAM BUFTON NORRIS (33) , to unlawfully obtaining £600 from Alice Charlotte Gear by false pretences; also, to forging and uttering a deed purporting to be a freehold conveyance to Nellie Vincent, with intent to defraud; also, to obtaining £600 from Florence Helena Leason by false pretences. He had been tried for attempted murder, found insane, confined at Broadmoor Asylum for amonth, and then released. (See Vol. CXXVII, p. 370).— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ELLIOTT Prosecuted.
THOMAS EVANS . I am a carman, of 25, Elmhouse Street, Kentiss Town—on June 7th I was in the North London Police-court. to prosecute William George Caswell for stealing 2s. from me in a public-house—while I was in the waiting-room with my son the prisoner Lockey came to me—I did not know him till that night—he said, "Will you come outside'—he went out and came back again, and asked me to come outside and see my wife—I went out and found my wife and her mother and prisoner Caswell, who I did not know—my son went out with me—they suggested our going to a public-house and we went with them—I was asked if I would have a drink, and Lockey said, "If you had your 2s. you would not trouble"—said, "If he gives me my 2s. I have done"—I stopped there and said, "Well, I gave him every chance last night"—casewell took half-a-crown out of his pocket—I said, "I am not worth 6d"
—he took the 6d. out of his pocket and gave it to me—"It will be all right, because I have been a policeman"—he said that before and after—he said that I had no occasion to appear, and in consequence of that I remained in the public-house till Mills, the policeman, fetched me into Court, and I went and gave evidence, and the man was convicted.
Cross-examined by Caswell. When I came out of the Court you were all standing together in the passage—you said in the public-house that you would come out and make my expenses right.
Cross-examined by Lockey. You stopped in the public-house till the constable fetched me.
CHARLES ERNEST EVANS . I am the son of the last witness—I was with him in the waiting-room waiting for the case to come on, and Lockey came in and said to my father, "Come outside"—he said "No"—Lockey went out, and came back and said that his wife wanted to see him—we went out, and Lockey said, "Caswell will five you the 2s., you don't want to say anything," and Caswell gave him half a-crown, and he gave the change.
Cross-examined by Lockey. You said that if he gave the 2s. his brother would get dismissed.
JAMES MILLS (537 Y). I took William George Caswell into custody for stealing 2s.—he was brought up at the North London Police-court.—I saw Lockey at the back of the Court, and when the case was called on the prosecutor was absent—I went out to the public-house and saw the prisoner's brother, his wife, and mother—a warrant was subsequently issued, and I took Lockey at King's Cross—he said that I was joking—Caswell said, "I shall expect my half-crown back."
Cross-examined by Lockey. I did not see you in the public-house.
Casewell's defence: I thought I would give him the 2s. to get my brother off, and I gave him 2s. 6d., and his wife gave me the change.
Lockey's defence: I took him into the public-house, and the prosecutor laid the two-shilling-piece down on the counter. I went to the station with him. I never attempted to get away. I went to the Police-court next morning to give evidence for him. I told the prosecutor I had been a constable, and I did not think Caswell would do such a thing as to take a two-shilling piece from him, and I do not believe it now.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ARMSTRONG Prosecuted.
AUGUSTO SABINI . I live at 16, Fleet Row, Eyre Street Hill—on May 18th I went out with Dunks and about four more boys—I saw a gang of boys, who asked us if we wanted to fight—we said "No," and walked away—I Smith fire two shots, and saw a pistol in his hand—he ran off, and was caught.
cannot say which of them said that, but they said, "We have a couple of bullets for you"—we ran, and they fired two shots—I spoke to a constable.
The Prisoner. I only fired one shot.
FREDERICK WHITE (403 E). On May 18th I was on duty in Robert Street—I heard a shouting and the prisoner running—I stopped him and asked him what he was running for—he said, "Some boys are having a game with me"—I saw his hand behind him, and found a revolver in it—I took it from him, took him to the station, and found these cartridges on him, two with bullets and one dummy one.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. I saw these boys: they ran, I went after them; I let fire up in the air, and they followed me, I was taken into custody.
GUILTY .— One Day's Imprisonment, having been gone time in custody,
OLD COURT.—Saturday, June 25th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
MR. LEICESTER Prosecuted, and MR. STURGIS Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ABINGER Prosecuted, and the evidence was interpreted to the Prisoner,
SAMUEL JOEL . I am a fishmonger at 43, Hall Place, Paddington—on June 1st, at 10.45 or a little later, I was outside the King's Head public-house—the prisoner came up and struck me in the face with his fist—I could not say why he struck me, I had not said a word or given him any provocation, I stood there with my hands in my pockets—no one was near tome—the prisoner came from across the road—there might have been several others there—I did not know anyone—I did not hear anyone call out that the prisoner was a b—foreigner, or jeer at him—I did hot hear anything—I struck him back—a constable came and separated us, and I said, "You see what that scoundrel has done"—he had bit me four or five times before I struck him, before I could get my hands out of my trouser's pocket—when the constable separated us I walked round the corner, and someone came behind me, I felt someone hit me in the back—these are the coat and waistcoat I was wearing—then the prisoner ran in front of me, and I ran some distance and said, "I am stabbed"—I felt the blood cozing out
of my back—others pursued him—I was taken to the hospital—I did not insult the prisoner—I did not hear anyone call him a b——Italian spy—it surprised me when he came up and struck me—I did not say to anyone "Give it to him," nor did I hear it said—I did not strike him till after he struck me—I could not say if he was alone.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Several people were standing there—none of them were friends of mine—when I reached Hampstead Heath; Road I was alone.
JAMES DAVIS (637 S). About 10.30 on June 1st I was in the Euston Road—I saw the prisoner having an altercation with the prosecutor outside the King's Head public-house—I could not hear what was said—I did not see any blows struck—I told them they had better clear away, and separated them, and the prosecutor went round the corner and the prisoner went towards Tottenham Court Road—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody—he was sober—I was called up when the two men were quarrelling—I was not there at the beginning of the quarrel—the prosecutor was sober.
Cross-examined. Your trousers were not torn at the knee—you showed no signs of a struggle or fight.
WILLIAM HOBSON . I am a flower-seller—on June 1st I was in the Hampstead Road between ten and eleven—I saw the prisoner come up to the prosecutor outside the King's Head public-house and strike him in the face—I could not say why he did it—I did not hear anybody call out anything—there were a lot of people round about when the fight began—I saw the policeman separate the prisoner and prosecutor—the prosecutor walked round the corner as far as a sweetstuff-shop, where the trams stop, and I saw the prisoner come behind him—I did not see anything in his hands—he raised his arm and then ran away.
Cross-examined. When I first went to the Police-station I told the police I had seen you hit the prosecutor—when the prosecutor was stabbed he called out, "Oh! oh! he has stabbed me!" and you ran through the trams.
WILLIAM CLAYTON (647 S). At 10.45 on June 1st I was on duty in Seaton Street, about fifty yards from the King's Head public-house, in the Hampstead Road—I heard cries of "Stop him!" and saw the prisoner running along the other side of the Hampstead Road, followed by several men, who were shouting, "Stop him!"—I took up the chase—the prisoner turned into Tolmer Square, and was stopped by Gattrell—I came up then, and the prosecutor ran up just behind me, and said "That man has stabbed me in the back, and I will give him into custody—I saw the prosecutor had a large cut through his clothes at the back, and his flash was exposed.
FREDERICK GATTRELL (67 S. R). I was on duty in Tolmer Square—I saw the prisoner running and heard shouts of "Stop him!"—I stopped him—the prosecutor came running up, and said, "This man (pointing to the Prisoner) stabbed me in the back in the Hampstead Road; I will give him into custody"—he made no reply—I took him to the station—when the charge was read to him there he said, "Not me have done it certainly."
Cross-examined. You did not say you had done nothing when I stopped you.
FRANCIS BOSWELL (Serjeant, S). On June 1st I was on duty at the Albany Street Police-station—I saw the prisoner, and asked his name and address in English, and he gave them in English—he understood me perfectly—I examined him and found on his hand near the base of the palm a dried bloodstain, evidently from a small scratch—he pointed with his finger to his knee, and said something I could not understand—I found the leg of his trousers had been rent right across quite recently—he could understand me—I could not properly understand him—he pulled up his trousers leg and I saw two abrasions on his knee, probably about the size of a 5s. piece—he said, "I came after a bicycle thief; he knocked me down. He is a bicycle thief; he called me a b——foreigner. He done this," pointing to his knee—that was before he had been charged with stabbing the prisoner—when charged the constable took a note of what he said—I was present.
Cross-examined. I called the divisional surgeon to look and give his opinion whether it was a cut or scratch on your hand, but it was a scratch.
WILLIAM BRACEY . I live at 2, Seaton Street, Uampstead Road, and am a butcher—on June 1st I found this razor just inside the railings of Tolmer Square, close to where the prisoner was arrested—I did not notice if there was blood on it—I met a policeman and showed it to him, and he went to the station with me—I produced it at the Police-court.
F. BOSWELL (re-examined). The last witness brought this razor to the station and gave it to me—I examined it with the surgeon with the aid of a magnifying glass—we could not see any blood stains on it; it had some slight indication of being wiped at the top—there were signs of a little rust on it—it had not been exposed to the air recently.
JOHN FRANCIS BILL , M. R. C. S., L. R. C. P. I am house-surgeon at the Temperance Hospital, Hampstead Road—Joel was brought in on the night of June 1st with two wounds on the left side or his back—the upper one was quite superficial, about 2 3/8 inches long, the lower one was 7 1/2 inches long, that gaped about two inches—it was bleeding very freely, and the promptitude with which the constable brought the man up was very commendable, because of the bleeding—I had to tie about six arteries and several big veins—a penknife like this could not have produced such a wound—this razor could have, I think, through the coat, waistcoat, and shirt—if a blow were dealt through that clothing, I should probably not expect to find blood on the razor—the wound is not serious so far as future consequences are concerned—if the prosecutor had not been very Promptly attended to it might have gone hardly with him; he had lost a lot of blood; he was brought in really before the shock had set in—he appeared quite sober—if he had been a drunkard it would have gone very hardly with him.
Cross-examined. The quickness with which the blow was delivered, and the way the razor would come through the clothes afterwards, would wipe the blood from the blade—the penknife is much too blunt to have caused the superficial wound.
re-examined. The two wounds were probably caused by one blow.
The Prisoner called—
ANNIE REED . I am a waitress—on the evening of June 1st I was with the prisoner near the King's Head talking to him and a friend of his—the prosecutor came up and called the prisoner an offensive name and a foreigner, and knocked him against the Grafton public-house—then the prisoner struck him back—I wished the prisoner good night—the quarrel had stopped for the time being—I went and caught an omnibus and saw nothing more of it—two men were standing beside the prosecutor—they were standing on the same side of the road as I was—they were walking along and the other two stopped—the prisoner was the worse for drink at the time.
Cross-examined. The prisoner is a waiter—I do not know where he is now—I knew him when he was at Frascati's—I had been talking to him and his friend; they were speaking in Italian, which I do not understand—I was waiting to say "Good-night"—we had been in the King's Head and had a drink—the prisoner did not say he had come there to look for a bicycle thief—I have seen him go out dressed as a waiter at night—he speaks pretty good English.
HENRY DUDLEY . I am a harness maker—the prisoner lives in the house where I used to live—the razor I was shown at Marylebone Police-court is not the one I have seen the prisoner use—I have used his razor for shaving; May 7th was the last time—he had only one razor to my knowledge—this is not the one I used on May 7th—it had a black handle like this.
F. BOSWELL (re-examined). This penknife was found by Gattrell when he searched the prisoner.
Ths Prisoner in his defence stated that the prosecutor called him a b—foreigner, and that one of the prosecutor's friends said he was an Italian spy that the prosecutor struck him and knocked him down—that he crossed the road and was going down Hampstead Heath Road when the prosecutor came along with four or five others and said, "That is the man," and they ran after him, and in consequence he ran away to escape their illtreatment, and they shouted "Stop him!"
WILLIAM BRACEY (re-examined). Both prisoner and prosecutor are Complete strangers to me—I saw this razor on the ground—it was not in paper—it was close to the place where the prisoner was arrested—I am a butcher.
By the Prisoner. No one was with me when he found the razor—I saw no woman.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on the ground of the provocation he received. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT, Monday and Tuesday, June 27th, and 28th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HUMPHRIES and MR. CAMPBELL Prosecuted, MR. GEOGHEGAN
FREDERICK JAMES GARROD . I am a job master, of Listen, in Suffolk—on June 5th, 1884, I was appointed with the prisoner as a trustee of the settlement of Mr. and Mrs. Whistler, which had been made on February 7th—Mr. Henry Peacock who had been appointed trustee was dead, and I took his place—Mr. Temple Lay ton Haig, of Southampton Street, was originally the solicitor, and the prisoner was his managing clerk—in July, 1894, there was a sum of £700 in the hands of we three trustees at the Chancery Lane Branch of the Union Bank on deposit—Mr. Henry Peacock communicated with me by letter, in consequence of which I signed this cheque (produced) on August 1st, 1891—it was signed at tint. time by Mr. Henry Peacock—I signed after him and forwarded it to the prisoner—I did not see the prisoner about the transfer—Mr. Peacock said it was to be invested on mortgage—I saw the prisoner from time to time between 1894 and 1897, and I once asked him if the money was all right—he said, "Yes"—he was then staying with me in Suffolk—it was in August, 1897—he did not say what he had done with it and I did not ask him—Mr. Haig disappeared at the end of last year—I then consulted my solicitor about the trust fund, and then came up to London and consulted Mr. Mills, of Chancery Lane, my solicitor's London agent—I saw the prisoner in Mr. Mill's office, and in his presence on December 23rd Mr. Mills said to him, "Is the trust money secure?"—he said, "Yes"—Mr. Mills asked in what way the money was invested—he said, "There is one mortgage for £500 and one for £200—Mr. Mills asked the names—he said, "I do not know," or "I cannot tell"—Haig's name was not mentioned in connection with the deeds—Mr. Mills asked him whether he had the deeds—he said, "They are intact in the deed-box in Haig's office"—I had no further conversation with the prisoner—he did not say when he had last seen them.
Cross-examined. Liston is a large ironwork place, about four miles from Marlborough—he was solicitor for the trustees for many years—I do not know whether Haig was solicitor to the trust long before the prisoner was appointed—Mr. Peacock put the greatest confidence Haig—I believe there was about £1,200 on deposit in the Union Bank on February 28th, 1894, of which £500 was withdrawn, leaving £700 on deposit—I do not know that a deposit receipt was given by the banker to show that the money had been deposited with him—I was in the country—I do not know that all the papers were in Haig's possession—I do not know that he suggested that £700 should be withdrawn from the bank—what Mr. Henry Peacock told me was that the money was to be invested on mortgage—he did not say that Mr. Haig would find the mortgage, he said Mr. Reade—he did not mention Mr. Haig's name—he lived with me in the summer months, and at Matlock in the winter—the cheque was signed at Listen—Mr. Peacock wrote the letter asking me to send it—I will not swear that it was not Haig—when he told me the deeds were in Haig's office,
Haig had bolted—I had not seen Haig with reference to the trust when the prisoner was not present—I did not say at the Police-court., "I saw Haig several times in reference to this trust"—I have seen Haig during the last twelve months—I have seen him and the prisoner together—I have never spoken to Haig about it when the prisoner was present—the prisoner went with me to Collins's office in reference to this trust—I was one of Peacock's executors—he died in January, 1897—I have seen Haig and the prisoner together two or three times in connection with Peacock's case, and never heard any conversation with Haig as to the other trust—I went to Collins with the prisoner—I wanted a fresh solicitor, and he introduced me to Collins—I knew that some of the papers were in Haig's hands—Collins was appointed by me receiver on Haig's estate—I do not remember that he told me that all Haig's papers were in Collins's hands, I cannot remember one way or the other.
JOHN KERSHAW DONOGHUE . I am secretary and manager to the Alliance Assurance Corporation, 24, Moorgate Street—on November 25th, 1889, I bought from Mr. Whistler his life interest in the settlement in question—accounts were furnished to me every six months by Webster and Haig—I advanced the money personally—I received interest from Webster every half-year—this account shown the sum of £200 on mortgage at 5 per cent., and £500 on deposit—I produce an account furnished to me in 1897, a letter received in 1897, and the account accompanying it.
Cross-examined. In September, 1895, I had an account forwarded to me showing in the first place the £200 as lent on mortgage at 5 percent, but that £500 remains on deposit—the £200 still remains at 5 percent, on mortgage, and the £500 on deposit appears to be changed to a mortgage at 3 1/2 per cent.—these are Mr. Haig's figures—at that time I thought there must be something very strange, for it is very seldom that the interest on so small a sum as £500 is 3 1/2 per cent., and it immediately roused my suspicions, it was too little on so small a property—I had not previously received any letters in Haig's writing—I had a conversation, with Haig as to the investment of the money—Haig and I had an interview as to how the £700 should be invested—it was I who suggested that the money should be invested in the Law Fire Insurance Company, as we thought it might be made more productive than lying fallow at the bank—we should get about 5 per cent. at the Law Fire Office, and then there was a question of the Law Guarantee—that is ordinary shares liable to fluctuation—it is a long time since I saw Haig—I received from Haig the interest on these two supposed mortgages.
Re-examined. I cannot tell when I suggested the withdrawal of the £500, it was about three years ago—I wrote private letters, and did not keep copies of them—the money was deposited on February 28th, 1894, and £700 was drawn out on August 1st, 1894—£500 was paid—I see £500 was paid in April, 1897, with my approval—I had not had any interest for more than a year.
GEORGE PETER ROBERT LAURIE . I am cashier at the Chancery LaneBranch of the Union Bank of London—on August 1st, 1894, there was over £700 on deposit with us in the joint names of Henry C. Cooke, Henry James Garrard, and Henry Reed. On that day the £700 and interest, £2 17s. 6d., was drawn out by cheque, signed by the three in whose names the account stood—it was paid over the counter—I do not remember
to whom I paid it in one £500 note; £22 17s. 6d. in cash, twelve £5 notes, and two £10 notes.
Gross-examined. Mr. Haig had a private account and a firm account, Webster and Haig—Haig had been a customer for a number of years, and his account was open when he absconded last November.
ALFRED J. LATHOM . I live at 7, Eastlake Road, Camberwell, and am cashier at the Sun Life Office, and was clerk there in September, 1894—this £10 note, No. 56003, bears my endorsement—it was paid in on 22nd September, 1894, to pay the premium on the life of Henry Reade, when the cashier was at lunch.
Cross-examined. When the note came to me it was endorsed "Henry Reade," 22.9.94—I did not personally take it—the amount due on the insurance was £7 14s. 8d.—I did not know that the person who brought it was a junior clerk of Haig's—the change was given to him—we should not take a Bank note without any endorsement unless we knew the person.
FREDERICK WILLIAM LOBB . I live at 163, Mills' Buildings, Edgware Road, and am Secretary to the Hyde Park Court of the Foresters' Friendly Society—Reade was my predecessor—I succeeded in July, 1897—it was part of his duty to receive the contributions and to pay them over to the Treasurer—I find in this account of the Branch a payment in at the Prince of Wales Road Post-office on January 7th, 1895, of £50, and also £50 at the Lombard Street Post-office on January 22nd, 1896—the audit of the Society takes place on both those dates, and he would have to show that the accounts balanced.
ERNEST ALFRED KING . I am sub-postmaster at the Prince of Wales Road Post-office, Kentish Town—I know the prisoner and his writing—this £100 note, 41274, was paid in on January 7th, 1895, by the prisoner—a portion of the prisoner's endorsement, "Henry Reade," is here, the rest has been cut off in cancellation—I gave £50 change in gold to the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner quite eighteen years—he was a neighbour—I had not observed any change in his mode of life—he was far from extravagant—I told him he ought to take a holiday, but he has a family, and his wife is a great invalid—I am not sure about giving him the £50 change in gold.
WILLIAM R. P. LAWRENCE . I am cashier in the Issue Department of the Bank of England—this £500 note, No. 16295, is endorsed "Henry Reade, 7, Southampton Street, Bloomsbury Square"—it was paid in on February 1st, 1895, and cashed, being paid to a person calling himself Reade—I cannot identify anybody—we should require an endorsement, because we gave notes in exchange for it, viz., two £200 notes, Nos. 70878 and 70879, one £50 note No. 99257, and five £10 notes, Nos. 35159 to 63 (produced)—the £200 note (70879) was cashed over the counter on January 22nd, 1896—it is endorsed "Henry Reade, 7, Southampton Street, Bloomsbury," also the £50 note (99287) and the £10 notes—No. 35162 has no address endorsed; it is dated May 7th, 1895—the 35163 has a name and address—the £200 note (70878) has nothing on it—it came to us from the Union Bank of London on February 2nd, 1895—(The witness then identified
and traced by their numbers the various notes given in exchange for those cashed by the prisoner.)
ERNEST A. KING (re-examined). The endorsement on this £10 note (98985) is "Henry Reade, 4-12-95"—it was paid into my post-office either by Reade or one of his family, in exchange for stamps and postal notes—Reade lives at 145, Prince of Wales Road.
By MR. CAMPBELL. I thought he wanted the stamps and the postal notes as secretary of the company.
EDWARD JOHN RUSSELL . I am clerk at the Lombard Street Post-office, where this branch of the Foresters has a Savings Bank account—this book (produced) shows a payment into that account of £50 on January 22nd, 1896, to me by this £50 note, which has been produced.
JAMES SCOTT (Detective Serjeant). On April 18th I arrested the prisoner on a warrant at 145, Prince of Wales Road, Kentish Town, for misappropriating £700 trust moneys—I read the warrant to him—he made no reply—nothing was found on him relating to the charge.
Cross-examined. Haig absconded on November 18th, 1897—the prisoner lived in the neighbourhood for nearly twenty-five years—I don't think a warrant is out for Haig—no attempt has been made to arrest him—as far as I know, the prisoner has always borne a respectable character—Haig was a solicitor for some years—Webster, who is dead, bore a high reputation—Collier is a trustee of the estate—it is not true that every single piece of information in connection with this man in charge has come from this man himself, and that Collier has declined to give any information to the prosecution.
ARTHUR WALTER MILLS . I am a solicitor, of 4, Chancery Lane, and agent to Mayhew and Son, of Saxmundham, under the Trustees of Mr. and Mrs. Whistler—prior to December 23rd Mr. Garrod came up to London and saw me about the settlements—at that time Mr. Peacock having died there were only two Trustees—on December 23rd I was present at an interview at my office between the prisoner and Mr. Garrod—I asked what other Trustee the young lady wished to have—he said that he and Mr. Garrod were the surviving Trustees—I asked him what it consisted of—he said, "Consols"—I asked him what the mortgage was—he said £500 on property of Mr. Tilley, who lived at Forest Gate, and two others of £500 and £200, and there was £300 or £400 in Consols—I asked who the borrowers were—he said he could not tell me—I asked where the property was bought, and he could not tell me—I asked him if he had satisfied himself as to the absconding of Mr. Haig—he said, "Yes;"—I knew him in the business some few weeks before—he said, "I will get particulars as to the two mortgages"—that was not his suggestion—I asked him several times—two days afterwards I wrote him a letter of which this is a press copy: "January 4.—Re Whistler's fund.—Will you kindly let me know whether you have the possession of the securities forming the trust estate?"—I got this reply from him: "The settlement is at the Union Bank and the securities at Southampton Street I intend calling on you shortly.—HENRY READE,"—I got no further particulars from him—on January 10th he came to my office and gave me this authority to get the Documents: "We hereby authorise and request you to hand to Mr.
Mills all securities in the trust of Mr. Whistler"—on February 25th I had another interview in the presence of Mr. Cormach, Reade'si solicitor, and asked what had become of the £700—I asked if he had got it, and the messenger came back without it—the documents in Tilley's mortgage were handed over to me but no others, and even those I did not get without an order of Court—he repeated more than once that they were at Southampton Street—I remember asking who had possession of them, the Trustee in Bankruptcy had some authority over the documents, and Messrs. Collins were the purchasers of the goodwill—the documents have never been found—I had enquiries made at the Union Bank of London and the Bank of England—on March 7th I saw him again, and told him it would be my duty to report it to the Judge, and told him the result of the enquiries, and that the cheque for £500 had found its way to himself, and that one £500 note bore his endorsement and most of the other notes—he said that it was his habit whenever he had notes to endorse them—I think Mr. Cormack told me that Mr. Haig had part of the money, and Read said that he paid one note into Haig's account—I had enquiries made at the Bank of England, but not at the savings bank—I said that I had reason to believe that £200 of that money was paid into Haig's account—he told me that a further sum of £10 had been paid into Haig's account, and that with Haig's knowledge that had been taken; for office purposes I suppose—I told him that many of the notes had been taken to the Post Office, and if they were on his private account it would come out—I do not think he said anything to that.
Cross-examined. I applied to the Official Receiver, Mr. Tallman, but there was no trace of these notes in the books—I then applied to the prisoner, and discovered this from documents he gave me—I did not ascertain the number of notes that passed through the London and Westminster Bank—the prisoner and his wife were entitled to legacies of £100 cash under Henry Peacock's will—they have not been paid—somebody paid the half-yearly interest on the two mortgages—I did not know Haig before—I never heard of the firm of Webster and Haig—he told me that he had paid £210 into Haig's account—I did not know that there was a Mrs. Haig—I cannot tell you whose account at the London and Westminster Bank these notes were paid to.
By the COURT. The interest was paid—I spoke to him on that point, and understood him to say that the money had never been invented at all.
PHILIP HUGH CHILDS . I am a solicitor acting as clerk to Mr. Mills—this letter is in the prisoner's writing—(This stated: "There is no change in the investments.")—a number of notices were produced at the Police-court signed, "Henry Reade" each of which was the prisoner's signature.
Cross-examined. I have seen him write two or three times—I am sure it is more than once, I saw him sign his name three times at Somerset House—I do not say that the account is his writing.
By the COURT. To the best of my knowledge the endorsements on all these notes are the prisoner's—letter No. 7 is all written in one hand.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted, and MR. WILLS Defended.
BARNARD HENEY SPEINGELT . I am the proprietor of Springett's Register, Mansion House Place—the prisoner was in my employ as canvasser one month—it was his duty to bring orders on a commission of 20 per cent, whether we were paid or not—on March 4th he produced this written order, purporting to come from Mr. Dodd (Ordering a quarter-page advertisement to be inserted for one year.)—he brought me Mr. Dodd's address, 4, Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields—that is the prisoner's writing, I know it well—the advertisement was inserted in the following issue, and on March 4th I paid the prisoner by cheque £3 12s. for two advertisements, and he gave me this receipt—Dodd's was £1 16s.—on March 5th he brought me this: "A. Wingate, cabinet-maker. You can insert my advertisement for one year, to occupy half-page.—A. Wingate"—I paid the prisoner commission on that, believing it was a genuine order—on March 24th I received a proof of an advertisement of Urch and Co, and the block, initialled as approved of, and gave the prisoner a cheque for £3 10s., believing it to be a genuine order—the order is lost—I sent in a quarterly account to each of those three people, and they were all repudiated.
Cross-examined. I advertised for a canvasser and the prisoner came. I understood that he worked for other people—he told me that he was connected with other canvassers and would have to share the commission—if any of the orders he got were repudiated he would be liable to refund the money if I accepted the order—he has not refunded me any money, but I have deducted some out of another commission of his—I said at the Police-court., "He has said that if any of the orders he got were repudiated he would refund"—I expected him to bring genuine orders—he brought me £225 worth of orders between March 28th and April 1st, and the profit went into my pocket—I manage two papers, they are both advertisement papers—the prisoner left some time in May, and I have no trace of him afterwards—Pontifex and Wood, the engineers, did not to my knowledge write to me complaining that an advertisement of theirs did not appear in my paper; they apologised for putting it into another paper—that was in the rival paper while the prisoner was in my employment—he went from my employment to the rival paper, and was there up to the time he was taken in custody—I had sent him to personal friends of my own—he did not take those advertisements to the rival paper, but I had no doubt that he was working for it—a warrant was granted on the application of another prosecutor, and he was arrested on it—it was not a summons—the prosecution was not abandoned—I have no feeling of vindictiveness against him or the slightest soreness at his going to another.
Re-examined. He brought me an order from the Bon March for £3 6s., and from Miles and Co. for £3 12s., and from James Sinden for £3 12s., and he left the office before the day the cheque was given—there were orders for another newspaper, and some from personal friends of my own—I gave him the chance of earning commission on orders which would come in any event.
Fields—I did not give this order, nor did anybody in my employ—I do not know how the prisoner got my bill-head.
Cross-examined. I know nothing about him—I do not know Harvey but he called on me—he would be in a position to get one of my bill-heads.
Cross-examined. I do not know Harvey or Smelley—I heard of a man calling to sell a mitre machine.
FRANCIS DEVY URCH . I am sadler and harness maker to the Queen at Long Acre—I did not give the prisoner some printed matter and a block—this is not my block, but it is taken from one of my old blocks.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner two or three years—he has taken advertisements from me before, but I never engaged him as ray agent, Willing, of the Strand, is my agent—I gave him orders some years ago, and lent him a block—I told my clerk to write to him—I had I bad no conversation then about advertising—I saw him in my office—did I did not see him take one of my printed circulars, this is a very old affair—he did not canvas me then for the Register, I never heard of the paper—he said that he was going to get some electros made from the original block, but not for this case, for the South African Company.
Re-examined. These new blocks were not for my business, but his own—I wrote for the old block, but have not received it.
JOHN WISE (City Police Inspector). I received a warrant for the prisoner's apprehension on May 24th, and on May 31st I saw him detained—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station—he was charged, and made a similar reply.
GUILTY .—INSPECTOR WISE stated that the prisoner had been obtaining money from other newspapers by the same means for the last four years— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT—Monday, June 27th, 1898, and following days.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, MR. SUTTON, MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. BODKIN Prosecuted, MR. C. F. GILL and MR. A. E. GILL Defended.
GUILTY of Manslaughter.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
ROBERT GEORGE HILLIARY . I am Coroner for West Ham—on May 11th I held an inquest on the body of Hilda Ruth Marshal took down. the evidence of the prisoner, and I produce here the depositions signed by me.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I remember at the inquest, when the Jury had retired to consider their verdict, the foreman returned into Court, and asked Dr. Webster that if medical aid had been provided, whether it would have prolonged the child's life—I suggested to the doctor that he—should go into the Jury now, and I went in with him—I then asked Dr. Webster to be recalled, and asked if the neglect to provide; medical aid had accelerated death, and the doctor hesitated sometime and then asked if yes or no was required of him, and I told him to answer to the best of his ability—I don't remember his asking that the word should be emphasised in his reply.
Prisoner's statement before the Coroner was read as follows:, "I live at 55, Oriental Road, Silvertown—the deceased, Hilda Ruth Marsh, was my daughter—she was thirteen months old—during her life her health has been fairly good—she has never had medical attendance-there was no doctor present when the deceased was born—I have refrained from calling in a doctor on account of my religious belief—last summer she suffered from diarrhoea—she then had home comforts, and hands were laid on her, and she was prayed over—she was ill perhaps about a week or nine days, and regained her usual health from that time and until Tuesday, the 3rd inst, she had not had a serious illness—on that day she was taken very suddenly, I considered, with a violent cold—my wife called my attention to the child at dinner-time—milk was given her and a little cornflour—I considered her very ill, and asked Mr. Benton, one of the Elders of the Church of the Peculiar People, for the prayers of the Church—on Wednesday she seemed no better, she was not kept in bed all day—the room was kept warm—deceased was very prostrate and rather stuffy in her breathing—my wife put flannels on deceased's back and throat—deceased did not improve, and eventually died on Monday, the 9th inst, at 3.25 a.m—the first day or two of her illness she had a little of her usual pap given her, cornflour and milk were also given her, and a 1 mutton broth, which she did not appear to relish, and a little weak brandy and water, with a few drops of the juice of a lemon—on Friday, the 6th, I noticed a change for the worse, and again went to Brother Benton, who came to the house, and anointed the child in the name of the Lord with oil, which he rubbed into the chest, he also prayed over her—after
Brother Benton had gone I thought she revived a little; she, however kept very prostrate and weak until she died—I have two children living and I have lost one, which died nine years ago—a boy, who was six months'old—he died from bronchitis and convulsions—no inquest was held, no doctor was called in—my wages are 38s. per week, and I am in regular employment, and have been for years."
SUSANNAH MARSH . I live ac 55, Oriental Road, Silvertown—I am a widow, and mother of the defendant—I knew the little child who died—up to May 3rd she had always been a healthy and well-conditioned child—I saw her on May 3rd at the defendant's house—the mother was there looking after it—it seemed to be very ill, with a very bad cold—it was in the kitchen, downstairs, in a bed-chair—the mother had nursed it all day, and she put it down for a little while—I went in and out all day—I was there during the whole of May 3rd—the defendant was not there while I was that day—I saw him in the evening—I do not know the time—there was no conversation then as to the state of the child's health—it was very ill—both the father and mother knew it was ill, and they did all they could to relieve it—the prisoner was very fond of his children—he was never in for a minute without seeing the baby—I know Mr. Benton—he is an elder of our church—he was asked for the prayers on the Tuesday, May 3rd—he did not come then—my son, the defendant, lay his hands on the child in the name of the Lord Jesus, and prayed for it—he asked the Lord to remember the dear child, and undertake for it, to takeaway the pain, as he has many times, and make the child well—I saw the child on the Wednesday, its mother was nursing it in the kitchen—I saw it every day till it died on the following Monday morning—I know what treatment the child received—on Friday it was not so well, and my son sent for Brother Benton to anoint the child in the name of the Lord—Brother Benton is a contractor—he came and he came and anointed the child, and prayed for it in the name of the Lord—he anointed it on its chest with best olive oil, where the suffering appeared to be massed—it was not dressed—he unbuttoned its night-dress—he was called in again on Sunday, and about eleven o'clock at night it had convulsions, when brother and sister Benton came in, and again anointed the child and prayed for it—the Lord removed the pain, for the child was easier—I belong to this sect myself—we are called the Peculiar People—I believe the name is taken from the word of God—flannels were put on the chest and shoulders—we thought it would do a little good—the child was not over hot—it was rather restless and feverish—it was quieter when the fever was on it—it was very hot on Sunday night noticed it was hot in the middle of the week—I cannot say which day.
By the COURT. No ice or cold water was applied to the child, or any poultices at any time—we do not think of that, our trust is in the Lord, we look to Him—we have never had anybody break their arm or leg—they would not do so unless they have done wrong—no doctor was called in to attend to the child, because we had faith in the Lord—he has healed me many times—I am a living witness, and it would be against my own faith to call in medical aid—I have never known the defendant to call in and when he or the children were ill—the child was pretty healthy, but easy to take cold.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have never known you to refrain from giving jour children anything within your means—you did all you could for the child except calling in a doctor, and that was not from any prejudice against the medical profession.
By the JURY. I thought a nice flannel would comfort the child.
PERCY ROSE . I live at 62, Barking Road, West Ham, and am a L. R. C. P.—I was present when the post-mortem was made on the body of the child on May 10th—apart from the disease which caused its death it looked a healthy, well-nourished, and well-cared for child—I saw nothing to accelerate its death—death was caused by failure or the heart's action consequent upon double pneumonia—that is, inflammation of the lungs affecting both sides—pneumonia is a disease for which there are certain recognised treatments—I should say that 95 per cent, of healthy children would recover, and in double pneumonia perhaps half might—when I say that this case had gone very for I am referring to just before death—single pneumonia may develop into double pneumonia in spite of treatment—it is generally a development of single pneumonia—it is less likely to supervene if the child is properly attended—the temperature of the child was very high—it is part of our treatment to reduce that as much as possible—that may prolong life, even if it does not save it—part of the treatment to lower the temperature is by direct application of cold by giving ice, and by giving medicines—the flannels would have no effect in reducing the temperature or retarding the process of the illness—I think the child's life would have been prolonged by proper medical treatment—I can say nothing about the death—if medical treatment had been called in there was a possibility of saving the life.
Cross-examined. I considered that this case was a serious one—if I had been called in there would have been more chance of life—the sooner the doctor is called the better—the examination showed that both lungs had been affected much about the same time—in double pneumonia there are certain periods when changes occur—from the 3rd or 4th day up to the 9th—if you like to say that the crisis comes on the 6th or 7th day it would be correct—the warm flannel would be a benefit to the child—in saying that 50 per cent recover from pneumonia, I did not refer to children only—I can give no average for children of thirteen months—I did not say that I could have saved the child—all had not been done that skill could devise for the child—I do not think pouring; oil and rubbing the child's chest would do any harm or any good.
Re-examined. At a crisis medical aid would not be more necessary—that is the critical time—I should think from what I saw, and what I know of your people, that everything bad been done for the child's comfort except medical aid.
JAMES WEBSTER, M. D . I live at 175, Barking Road, Plaistow—I made a post-mortem examination on May 10th—Dr. Rose was present—I agree with his evidence—I agree that the temperature should be reduced—there are recognised methods for doing that, and it would prolong life—I agree that of healthy children, with proper medical treatprolong life—I agree that of healthy children, with proper medical treatment, a large percentage recover—I do not quite agree with his percentage—about two-thirds recover, I should say, in single pneumonia—I make a distinct difference between them—I should not like to say what is the
percentage in double pneumonia—there is a possibility that life might be saved if proper medical aid had been called in, and, I think, it would have been prolonged.
Cross-examined. I said before the coroner, "I am not in a position to say I could have prolonged or saved life," but that was with regard to the appearances found at the post-mortem examination—I based the whole of my opinion on the postmortem—my opinion is that the first place where the inflammation broke out was in the left lung—I said before that I thought inflammation broke out in both lungs at the same time—I do not think the child suffered from want of food—you may have done harm in giving food, because certain sorts of food at a time like that could not be converted into food. A feverish child would have to be fed in a different way to a healthy child—a child of two and a-half years is certainly more liable to become ill than when it is older—I remember the foreman of the Jury coming back into Court after they had adjourned—I do not remember the questions—he asked a he question, but I think the Coroner stopped him—we went to the room where the Jury was, and the question was repeated in the presence of the whole Jury—when I said that the lack of medical aid would have accelerated death, I asked that the word "might" should be emphasised—I asked the Coroner if "Yes or no" was required of me.
Cross-examined. As far as I know, there is nothing whatever against you as a people.
The Prisoner, in his defence, alleged that everything was done for the child that was possible, according to his belief; that they had put their faith in the Lord, and did as directed by St. James in his Epistle (Chapter V., verse 14). and prayed and anointed the body, which had always proved effectual, although they did not prevent medical aid to those who desired it.
GUILTY .— Discharged on his own recognizances.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WARBURTON, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against
EMILY LILLEY— NOT GUILTY .
EDITH MAUD SCOTT . I am a type-writer, of 9, Algiers Road, Ladywell, near Lewisham—on April 15th I was lodging at Silvertown, to be near my business—I went for a walk that night at eight o'clock—it was dark—I was on some waste ground, and as I was returning the prisoner came and asked me the way—I told him, and he said, "Where are you going!"—I said, "For a walk?"—he threw me down on the ground and raised my clothes; I called out, and offered him my watch to get rid of him—he continued to struggle, and I was pulled down the bank into a ditch—he said if I gave him my watch he would leave me alone—I was wearing it inside my jacket with a black cord round my neck, and I unfastened my dress and took it off—he took it, and said, "If you dare to move I will finish you"—I went home, and next morning my employer made a complaint for me—I was very much bruised, and have not returned to my
work since—I am still suffering, and under a doctor still—I picked the prisoner out at the station the following Saturday from five others.
CHARLES LARNER (475 K). On May 1st Mr. French called me to his shop, handed in this watch, and gave the female prisoner in custody—I detained her—the young lady came to the station that evening and identified the male prisoner in my presence without any hesitation whatever from four others.
JAMES SMITH (Police Serjeant, 24 K). On May 7th I was in charge of the North Woolwich Station when the female prisoner was brought in, and afterwards when the male prisoner was brought in—I asked him where he obtained the watch, he said that be picked it up—Miss Scott identified him—he made no reply—the watch is in good condition still and goes when wound up.
Alfred Lilley's Defence; I picked up the watch on April 23rd. I only had it in my possession a fortnight, and sent my wife to pawn it; she did not like to do it, but I made her. It will be the last thing I keep it I pick anything up.
GUILTY .—There was another indictment against the prisoner for an assault on the prosecutrix, with intent to ravish her, and inflicting injuries which caused her to be still under a doctor's care, and she was still unable to attend to her business.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. ORMSBY Prosecuted.
GEORGE MOORE . I am a porter—I live, at 7, Charlotte Street, Old Kent Road—on May 31st, about seven p.m., I was in High Street, Deptford, when the prisoner suddenly came up behind me, and struck me A violent blow on the right ear, knocked me on the ground, injured my left shoulder, and snatched my watch and chain—he ran down Hale Street about a hundred yards, when I lost sight of him—I looked about the neighbourhood, but could not find him—I gave information at the Police-station, and a description of him—I believe he was alone—I came back from the station, and gave information to Police-constable Wood—we went to a public-house in Hale Street, where I picked the prisoner out from six or seven others—my watch and chain were worth £3 5s.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you strike me, but I found myself on the ground—I did not struggle with you.
description, in consequence of which I went to the Hale Arms public-house, Hale Street, about 7.30 p.m. on May 31st—the prosecutor went in and picked out the prisoner from six or seven others as the man who had stolen his watch—I called the prisoner outside, and told him I should take him into custody for stealing a watch from the prosecutor—he said "I stole no watch"—I took him to the Police-station—when charged he replied, "I stole no watch"—on searching him I found 5s. 6d. in silver and 1s. 11 1/2 d. in bronze—he was the worse for drink.
Cross-examined. I did not come into the Hale Arms and say, "Is this the man?"—you did not ask me to lock the man up—I saw you outride the Duke of Cambridge about 7.30—you were using bad language—I requested you to go away, and you did—you had a letter written in reference to a witness, and I went to the house, but they knew nothing about you—I made inquiries, and found nothing about you.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate; "I deny the charge. I have witnesses, but they are not here."
His defence was that he was not the man, and was not there at the time.
GUILTY .*—He also PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Greenwhich Police-court on June 18th, 1895.— Ten Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MORICE Prosecuted.
ALICE WALLIS . I am in the employ of a draper at High Street, Plumstead—on June 11th the prisoner came in for some artificial flowers, price 8d., and gave me a 5s. piece—I was doubtful about it, and asked if she had any small change—she said no—I went to a neighbour, and then told her it was bad—she said, "Is it"—I asked where she got it—she said, "From a man in Westminster"—I gave her in custody.
EDWARD RETALLICK (378 R). On June 11th I was called to 23, High Street, and Mrs. Wallis charged the prisoner with uttering a bad coin—she said she received that and two half-crowns from a man on the night before, and that she came to Woolwich to see the soldiers—she was searched by the female searcher, and this coin (The same) and two return tickets dated the same day were found on her—I did not take her past the place where the coins were found.
JOHN O'FLARATY . I am fifteen years old, and live in Robert Street, Woolwich—on June 11th, about 4.45 p.m., I found a package in the street wrapped up in paper and pinned together—I opened it and found eight 5s. pieces.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate. I know nothing about the other 5s. pieces that were found; I only had the one I went into the shop with.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted, MR. LYCESTER Defended.
WILLIAM VINCENT . I live at 31, Buxton Road, Walthamstow, and am a brewer's drayman—I knew the deceased man Byham; he was in the same employment as I am—before April 23rd I did not know the prisoner—on that afternoon I was with Byham at Peckham unloading a dray—the prisoner came up and asked Byham if he wanted to fight—Byham said he did not want to fight, he had not time—he then asked me and I said I had no time, it was getting late, it was about 5.15—the prisoner then went back to Byham and hit him and knocked him down, and he looked like a dead man—the prisoner ran away, and I chased him and overtook him—I did not speak to him then—I think he struck Byham on the forehead—I do not know if the prisoner was drunk, but he seemed rather strange in his manner—Constable Levitt held the prisoner—I went back to Byham, he was walking to the station with two constables—he said he had a dizziness over his eyes.
Cross-examined. This happened about 5.15—it was a Saturday—I did not know the man before—we had had no quarrel—I do not know that he was drunk—I know he was taken before the Magistrate and charged with being drunk—I said then the prisoner struck the deceased over the eye—I am not sure if I said "He went back to Byham and struck him in the eye"—I did not hear anybody else say he hit him over the eye—I heard the prisoner give some of his evidence at the Coroner's court—I did not say "the prisoner tried to get away from the crowd"—I did not see him till he came up to us, there were a few people there then—it would not be correct to say that he was trying to get away from the crowd and put his leg out and the deceased fell over it—I was three or four yards away when the deceased fell—at the station he said he thought he was not hurt—he did not want to charge the prisoner with assault that night—it was past ten when I left him that night—we leave off work any time on Saturday nights.
Re-examined. I did not see much of a crowd till after it was all over, and then I ran after the prisoner—he tried to get away from the crowd after Byham had been knocked down.
JOSEPH RICHARDS . I live at 13, Clifton Terrace, Brixton—on Saturday afternoon, April 23rd, I was at the corner of Gervaise Street. I saw the last witness there with a brewer's dray—the prisoner came along from the direction of the Old Kent Road, and challenged the deceased to fight—I heard him—I was four or five yards from him—the deceased said, "Go away, I do not want anything to do with you; I have got my work to do"—he did not use any bad language—the prisoner knocked a small barrel out of the deceased's hands, and then turned round to the last witness and wanted him to fight—he refused—he then turned to the deceased again and asked him to fight—he would not have anything to do with him there were some words, which I could not hear, when the prisoner rushed the deceased and struck him—I believe it was on the forehead, but I cannot say distinctly—the prisoner's back was towards me—he then put his and round his neck and back-heeled him and threw him—Vincent was standing at the back of the van—this happened about the middle of the van—I saw the deceased fall, but I do not know if his head struck, because the prisoner was between me and the deceased man; I heard a thud
—he rolled over insensible and remained so five or six minutes—some-water was fetched, and he revived—the prisoner ran away.
Cross-examined. I had never seen any of them before—it was entirely the prisoner's fault—I was on the same side of the road—I was waiting while the brewers were clearing one or two casks out of the way—certainly not more than three or four yards off—there were other people there, but none in front of me—I don't know if Vincent could have seen the prisoner had he struck the deceased on the forehead—the prisoner caught the deceased round the neck after the blow—I do not know if it was the blow which knocked him down—I heard a thud, and I do not know where the deceased man's head fell—I first gave evidence in this case when the prisoner was brought up at the Lambeth Police-court.—I appeared at the inquest—that was the first time.
ERNEST LEVITT (231 P). In the afternoon of April 23rd I was in Lower Park Road, Peckham—I saw the prisoner being chased by Vincent—I stopped him, and asked Vincent what was the matter—he replied, "He has knocked my mate down, and left him unconscious outside the Queen Elizabeth public-house"—the prisoner made no reply, but became very violent—I took him to the station; he was very violent all the way—I afterwards went to the Queen Elizabeth public-house, and saw the deceased—he appeared to be in a slightly dazed condition—I Aq no marks of violence—he accompanied me to the station—the inspector asked him if he would charge the prisoner and he said, "No, I am not hurt, I will not charge him"—he was charged with being drunk and disorderly.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was let out on bail—we kept him at the station till he got sober—the Magistrate fined him 2s. 6d. or three days.
By the JURY. The prisoner had run 300 or 400 yards.
ELIZABETH MARY BYHAM . I live at 22, Gloucester Street, Holborn, and am the widow of the deceased—he was a brewer's drayman, and about twenty-five years old—he was in good health—I remember his coming home on April 23rd, between twelve and one at night—I do not know how far his work is away—he complained of his head—the next day his head was very bad, and he told me what had happened—he got up, but hal to lay down again, and remained so all that day—on Monday when he tried to get up to go to work he fell on to the bed again—he complained of pains in his head—he went to the Homopathic Hospital in the morning—every day a doctor came to see him, and afterwards he went into the hospital—before he went there he was very strange in his head, and he became unconscious—I noticed three marks on his forehead—I saw them first on the Monday morning on his temple—they were not visible on Saturday or Sunday.
Cross-examined. They were red marks—they went away again—my husband worked in Upper Thames Street—sometimes he would get home early on Saturday, and sometimes late—if he was well and came straight home, it would not take him two hours to get from the brewery—he went into the hospital on May 4th, and up to that time he had had a doctor at home from the hospital.
deceased on April 26th—I found him in a state of tremor, with a temperature of 101, pulse 125, and he had a slight swelling on his left temple—he was suffering, apparently, from shock, the result of a blow—I directed him to go home to bed—I saw him at his house from time to time till his admission to the hospital—the first few days he seemed rather better, but afterwards he complained of great pains in his head—when he came into the hospital he was attended by Mr. Knox Shaw, and I lost sight of him.
Cross-examined. I was not present at the post-mortem—the blood which was found on the brain would be consistent with what I saw—it might have arisen from rupture of a vessel in his brain, but I had no other evidence than what he gave—the existence of a clot would not always produce a high temperature—it might do so—it might also produce the tremor.
Re-examined. In my opinion the clot was formed by the blow on the head.
By the COURT. I am not the doctor who removed the clot.
CHARLES KNOX SHAW . I am a registered medical practitioner, and surgeon at the London Homoeopathic Hospital—I attended the deceased man—I first saw him on May 5th—he was then absolutely unconscious, and paralysed on one side—I came to the conclusion that it was due to compression of the brain, and I considered an operation should be undertaken to remove the compression, and it was done that same afternoon—the operation of trepanning—it was on the right side of the head—we found a large collection of blood, which, of course, was removed by the operation—the result was that he slowly recovered consciousness, and to a large extent the use of the paralysed side—he progressed favourably for about a fortnight, then inflammation of the brain supervened, and he relapsed into unconsciousness again, and died on May 25th—I made a post mortem—there was a collection of matter at the seat of the injury, where the clot was, and in trying to find the source of hemorrhage, I found a small vein had been lacerated, and the brain injured behind—blood had come forward and collected on the side of the head—the ruptured vein would not be on the same side of the head as the point of assault—the shock to the brain inside the hard scull might rupture it—it is generally opposite to where the actual injury had taken place—the organs were perfectly healthy—I assumed that there had been an injury, which had ruptured a small vessel, which had not bled extensively, but little by little, so that the symptoms had been slow, and it was only when the hemorrhage became enough that he regained consciousness—it would be possible that he would not know the nature of the injuries he bad received—the cause of death, in my opinion, was compression of the brain and accumulation of blood, caused by the blow.
Cross-examined. The locality of the clot does not necessarily indicate where the blow was—the ruptured vein was the origin of the mischief—that would not necessarily show where the blow had been given—such a ruptured brain as in this case could not have been caused otherwise than by violence—from the post-mortem examination it could not have been caused by any thing else, because the seat of the injury and the state of the brain would exactly show that it was the result of the injury and
not disease—if from disease there would be a condition of the vessels which would show there had been hemorrhage—I think the deceased was about five foot six inches—not particularly heavy, he was not as big as brewers' draymen generally are—I think the brain was too seriously injured to recover itself—we were agreeably astonished that he got so well as he did, considering the extensive hemorrhage—we found the place from taking into consideration all the man's symptoms, and then we found he was paralysed on his left side—we carefully considered how the symptoms came on. We had some little difficulty in finding that the hemorrhage was on the left side, we were fortunate to find it—I think I said before the Magistrate, "Either a blow from the fist or a fall on the flags might have caused the injury"—trepanning is getting a more recognised operation than it was.
ROBERT WALSH (Inspector, P). On May 6th I arrested the prisoner at his own house—I said to him I shall take you into custody for assaulting Charles Byham—"the doctor has no hope of recovery, he is suffering from concussion of the brain, and an operation has been performed"—he said, "Good God, you don't mean it"—he was charged with doing grievous bodily harm—he made no reply to the charge of manslaughter.
JOHN BRYANT (11 G. R). I was present at the inquest of the deceased man Byham—Mr. Thomas was Coroner—I am his officer—I saw the prisoner sign this statement after a good deal of persuasion—it is also signed by the Coroner—(Read: "I am twenty-seven years old, and by trade a compositor. Recently I have been a general labourer doing odd jobs. On Saturday afternoon, April 23rd, I was drinking in the Rising Sun public-house, Old Kent Road, at three o'clock and left at 4.30; I was going home, and when passing the Queen Elizabeth public-house I was rolling about. There were two draymen there. They started laughing at me. The barman of the public-house was also there. I went against one of the draymen, and one said, 'Get up you dirty—'"—I offered to fight—there was a crowd—they would not fight—I put out my foot to run away, and someone fell over it—I did not strike the deceased or knock him down."
With the exception of giving way to drink he bore a good character.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CECILIA VICK . I am barmaid at the Flying Horse, High Street, Borough—on May 2nd I served the prisoner with some drink, price 1d—he gave me a florin—I told him it was bad—he said he wished he had sacks full of them—I took it away, and when I came back he had gone, leaving his beer on the counter—on June 11th he came again, and called for a pony of bitter—I recognised him—he paid with a florin—I took it to the Governor, who said, if he did not go away, he would lock him up I gave the coin back to him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am sure you were there on May 2nd
—I did not loose sight of you on the second occasion till you were in charge.
ERNEST JAMES HALL .—I keep the Flying Horse—on May 2nd the last witness gave me a bad florin—I put it in a drawer and afterwards handed it to the police—on June 11th the barmaid again gave me a bad florin—I gave it back to her, went into the bar and saw the prisoner—I said, "This is the second time you have passed counterfeit coin"—he said, "I am very sorry, I did not know it was bad"—He walked away, I followed him and gave him in charge.
Cross-examined. You did not say that you had never been in my public-house before.
JOHN CURRIE (Police Constable). On June 11th I saw the prisoner, followed by Mr. Hall—I said, "I shall take you into custody for uttering counterfeit coin"—I searched him on the spot, and found nothing—he was taken to the station, and charged with uttering on May 2nd—he said, "It is a lie"—I asked his address—he said, "13, Warwick Street, Blackfriars"—I could not find him there, and then he told me 14, Warwick Street, which was correct—he said he was a flowerseller.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate; "I was coming over London Bridge on Friday night, and gave a man a half-crown; he gave me a two-shilling piece and 5d. in change. I spent the 5d. that night, and in the morning went into the public-house and gave the barmaid the florin, and the governor said, "What do you mean," and threw me out of the bar. This does not look like the same piece that I gave to the barmaid."
NOT GUILTY .
467. FREDERICK CLARKE (64) PLEADED GUILTY to Feloniously marrying Edith Mary Castle, his wife being alive; also to obtaining £25, £30, and £220 by false pretences, having been convicted on June 4th, 1894.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude and Five Years' Penal Servitude, concurrent.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WALLACE Prosecuted.
EDWARD SPILLAN . I am a wheelwright, of 104, Farrington Street, Old Gravel Lane—on May 22nd I was near the Elephant and Castle, and the prisoner Kemp invited me to go with her to Red Cross Court, where I paid 3s. for a room—we were not long there before there was hammering at the door—I opened it and she struck me on the head with a teapot and Riley came in and struck me with a piece of iron—I felt a hand in my pocket and lost a purse and £2.15s.—Kemp then disappeared.
Cross-examined by Riley. I left home about 8 p.m.—then bad £3 and some coppers—I was sober—I was with a friend—I only spent a few coppers, but Kemp saw my purse when I paid for some rum—it was 2.15 a.m. when I met her, and I got to your place about 2.30—my hat was on when you struck me—I was giddy from the blow, and I
told the constable that I went to the room between 11 and 12, but I told the Magistrate that I was mistaken—I had been in the room twenty minutes or half-an-hour when this happened—my hat fell after she struck me with the teapot—she struck me on the side of my face several times—I told the inspector that she was the woman who let me into the room—she was arrested not three minutes before you—what you struck me with looked like a poker—I have a scar where I got the blow—it cut my head right open—you only struck me once—I am sure you are the man who struck me—you called for witnesses at the station, but they did not appear—my money was in a brown leather-purse—Kemp took the purse out of my pocket.
Cross-examined by Kemp. I gave my money to you—I did not ask you for a bottle of rum—the female who took me up said, "Pay her," and I paid you—I did not grip you by the throat before you struck me with the teapot.
FREDERICK ROSE . I am a labourer, of 31, Mowbray Buildings—on May 22nd about 2.15 a.m. I saw Spillan in the passage of 15, Red Cross Court—the two prisoners had got him, and the male prisoner put his hand in his trousers pocket, and threw him out into the court—his head was bleeding and covered with tea-leaves—they bolted the door, and I went with Spillan, and got a policeman.
Cross-examined by Riley. I was on my way home talking to my mate Mike Croft, the man who you stabbed at Christmas—I did not see any of you strike Spillan, but I saw you put your hand in his left pocket—he had not his hat on when he came out; you threw it out after him, and I picked it up and put it on his head—he was on his knees in the passage—I do not bear you malice because you were acquitted last Christmas, nor did one of my compatriots come and do you wilful damage—a black man said that he could recognise Kemp by the scar over her eye.
Cross-examined by Kemp. I was just outside the door—I was not at the lodging-house—you threw the man out of the passage, and put the chain on the door—Michael Hall was not there—I was not standing by the lodging-house—I did not tell Spillan to say that he had had his purse taken.
THOMAS HAYWARD (225 M). Early on the morning of May 22nd I was on duty in High Street, Borough—Spillan came to me bleeding from a wound on the left side of his head—I went to 15, Red Cross Court, knocked three or four times, but was not admitted—I got in through the I shutter and saw nobody in the room—I went to the rear and heard foot-steps going out—I went over three or four walls into 21, and found Kemp apparently asleep—I told her she was wanted for robbery and assault—she said nothing, but when I got into the court she said, "I smashed him on the b—head with a teapot"—I took her to the station, and then went and found Riley in High Street—I said, "I want you"—he said, "Take me."
Cross-examined by Riley. You were going to the station with another policeman—he had not got hold of you, but you could not get away—you said that you heard that you were wanted, and were going to the station with them—you were pointed out by a little boy named Rose in High Street—the prosecutor said that he went there between 11 and 12
o'clock—Spillan said that he was served at 12.30, and he identified the woman who served him—Kemp has a deep scar over her left eye—you were not placed with other men to be identified because the prosecutor was in Guy's Hospital, as his hands were bleeding.
Cross-examined by Kemp. Spillman said that he went there between eleven and twelve o'clock.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HARRY GREEN (Police Serjeant, M). I was on duty this morning—Kemp was brought in first—a policeman was not in the court with her—I entered the charge on the sheet—the prosecutor said that it was some time after two, just before he fetched the policeman—he did not say it was at 1.30—Riley did not prove where he was—I asked him whether the female who was with him took it, and he said "No"—Rose did not gay that he only saw you outside the house, he said he saw you in the passage, and saw you strike him on the top of his head with an iron instrument.
Rileys's Defence: The prosecutor says it was 1.30, and I proved where I was at 1.30. When he found there was no foundation for the charge he altered his statement. When I was acquitted before, Rose and his associates said they would get me put away.
—RILEY— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour and Twenty Strokes with the Cat. KEMP— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JULY 25TH 1898.