CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 21ST, 1898.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT,
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ., Q.C.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
VOL. CXXIX.-SESSIONS I. TO VI.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
Law Booksellers and Publishers.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
INCLUDING CASES COMMITTED TO THIS COURT UNDER ORDER IN
COUNCIL, PURSUANT TO WINTER ASSIZE ACTS OF 1879.
Held on Monday, Nov. 21st, 1898, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. VOCE MOORE, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir ALFRED WILLS , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., M.P., Sir JOSEPH. SAVORY , Bart, Sir WILLIAM WILKIN , G.C.M.G., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; MARCUS SAMUEL , Esq., JOHN POUND Esq., WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq., WILLIAM PENDIE TRELOAR, Esq., JOHN CHARLES BELL , Esq., FRKDERICK WILLIAM ALLISTON, Esq., SAMUEL GREEN , Esq., THOMAS VESEY STRONG , Esq., and HENRY GEORGE SMALLMAN , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON, Q.C., Knt., 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.
CLARKNCK RICHARD HALSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
MOORE, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION
A star (*) denotes that prisoners live been previously in custody—two start (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday and Tuesday, November 21st and 22nd, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LAMPARD Prosecuted, and MR. WALTER STEWAET Defended.
WALTER HOWARD TRIP . I live at the Cock Tavern, Shaftesbury Avenue I am an actor, and my professional name is Edgar—I have known the prisoner for some months—I also knew another customer named Romer—I knew the prisoner as Captain Stewart, and Romer as Baron Romer—on May 20th the prisoner and Romer came to my house, and the prisoner produced this cheque for £5—it was already written, and signed "C. Romer"—the prisoner asked me to cash it for his friend the Baron—I said, "I don't do these things"—he said, "My dear boy, I would not ask you to cash anything that is not all right"—I said, "Well, if you assure me this cheque is all right, I will do it for you, Captain Stewart"—I banded him the money, he handed it all to the Baron, and. subsequently borrowed a sovereign—he asked me to have a drink—I said, "I will not have one now, I am going to have supper with my friends upstairs, and some cards"—he said, "Can't we join you?"—I said, "I don't know"—he said, "I should like to come up"—I said, "All right, come up"—we went upstairs—we had some supper, and then had some cards, in which Captain Stewart and the Baron joined—the Baron, who was winning, wanted to go, and one of my friends called him a few names, and the Baron left the room—I think it was about 2.30 a.m.—I saw the prisoner next day, and he asked me not to pay in the cheque, as the Baron was going to dishonour it—the Baron was not present then—I paid the cheque into my bank about May 24th—it was returned marked "Refer to drawer"—it was paid in again on June 12th and it was returned again
on June 14th—my bank is the London and County Bank, Covent Garden Branch—I subsequently obtained a warrant—I have met the Baron once since with the prisoner; he made excuses—I saw the prisoner on May 26th at the Edinburgh public-house, he was then owing me the £5—he brought me another cheque for £3—signed Ball, Wild and Co.—he asked me to cash it for him to enable him to get some money released in the City which would-enable him to "square up" with me the following day—I said, "Is this cheque all right?"—he said, "I assure you it is all right"—he said he was purchasing some rifles for sale abroad, also that he was corresponding with Imre Kiralfy of the Earl's Court Exhibition—I paid that cheque into my bank at the same time as I paid in the former cheque the second time, on June 12th—it was returned in the same way—I received this letter from the prisoner. (Saying that there was no better "brick" than himself (witness); that the Cock Tavern was "barred" to him on account of some exaggerated lies, and that he would bring the gold for cheque to-morrow. Asking the witness to wait till to-morrow for the £3 cheque as he would break faith with a useful friend if his half-sheet should you in)—I received that letter a day or two after I cashed the second cheque. I also received this letter. (Saying that there was not an office open on Saturday, that he looked for great things to-morrow, and asking him not to send in the half-sheet for £3)—I then got this letter. (Saying that he (the prisoner) was a villain, and everything else but he was in the hands of others; that he had his return ticket to Brussels to bring back wealth or—)—on the back of the letter was: "Tell and assure Edgar as an old pal that his money is safe, and that if I turn out a thief you will put him right for me"—I received all those letters subsequent to May 20th.
Cross-examined. I first met the prisoner about February last—between February and May 20th he came in during the evening—we were on good terms—I applied for a warrant in July or August—when they came to my house a message was not sent up to me—I was not upstairs—I was coming out of the bar and I saw the prisoner—if I had been coming downstairs I should have come out of the compartment in which I was; there is a staircase leading from it to an upper room—I was not asked to join Stewart and Romer in a drink—I did not suggest that they should join us in a game of cards—we went upstairs and had a game—Stewart did not say he had only got £2, and Romer only a few shillings; they had got my £5—Romer did not suggest I should cash the cheque—neither of these men had played cards with me before and never again—I would never trust them again—I knew Romer as well as Stewart, but Stewart was the more loquacious—Homer left the room after the row—he had not been swindled—he had all the money; Stewart had lost—from that time there was supposed to be a coolness between Stewart and Romer—I did not say before the magistrate that I had observed a coolness between them—the £3 cheque was presented about a week afterwards—he represented that he was engaged in an extensive deal in rifles—I know that clerks were called from the banks, but I do not know that they said both Romer and Stewart had accounts—I understood that they were both gentlemen—I had never doubted Stewart—he may have been arrested on September 16th—I did not take steps till then, because I trusted them both—
Stewart showed in a foreign cable, which I believed to be genuine—I did not leave a message for him to follow me to the concert—my barmen would have said that I had gone there—I was reciting there—I do not know anything about Ball—Stewart said he would bring the money—I did not know that he was away until the. day before the warrant was issued—he was seen by my marker in Leicester Square in June.
Re-examined. I think I last saw the prisoner in the first week in June.
WILLIAM WILSON . I am a clerk in the London and County Banking Company, 134, Aldersgate Street—there was an account opened in the name of Baron Romer on May 15th, 1895—on November 11th, 1895, there was a credit balance of 3s. 3d.—nothing has been paid in since—this cheque for £5 was paid in on May 25th, 1898—it was sent back—it was again sent in on June 14th and again returned.
Cross-examined. The firm who introduced Romer to us was F. Bock & Co.—we believed Romer to be a man of respectability.
ELLEN BALL . I am wife of Frederick Ball and live at Leyton—between 7 and 8 on May 26th the prisoner called—my husband opened the door—he and the prisoner went into the back kitchen—my husband came out and I took him some writing paper to the kitchen—the prisoner was present—he asked my husband to write out a cheque—he said he had not his cheque-book with him, and there was no money in the bank to meet it—the prisoner pressed him-to write the cheque out on some note-paper and he would pay it into the account in the morning—this (produced) is the cheque—that is the piece of paper which I took into the kitchen—he did not stay long after that.
Cross-examined. This was the first time I had ever seen the prisoner—I believe my husband was in some difficult financial position—he had been carrying on business in an extensive way—he had not got three clerks, and a girl typewriter and an office boy—I do not know that his banking balance was at a low ebb—I do not know that there was a bill of sale on our house, and I do not believe it—I thought the business was going well—my husband has gone away—Sergeant Clarke saw me about this case—he simply asked me if I remembered Stewart coming—my husband said to the prisoner "I have no money in the bank"—it was not that he had no balance—I was not acquainted with my husband's business affairs—he went into the kitchen with the prisoner because we were dining with a friend.
Tuesday November 22nd, 1898.
HENRY MOORHOUSE . I am a clerk in the London Joint Stock Bank, 44, Fenchurch Street—a Mr. E. W. Ball had an account there in the name of "Ball, Wild and Co"—at the end of last April the credit to that account was 7d.—on April 30th a cheque for £7 10s. was returned, on May 31st one for £1; on Alay 10th one for £2 16s, 4d.; on May 27th one was presented dated May 25th made payable to Captain Stewart, signed "Ball, Wild and Co."—there was nothing to pay it with, only 7d.—on May 27th we received a letter from our customer enclosing £3—afterwards cheques were presented and returned marked "Refer to drawer"—on May 28th one for £2 16s. 4d; June 3rd one for £20—on June 14th this cheque was presented—there was still nothing to pay them with—the account has been closed since.
Cross-examined. Up to December 30th last we always thought Ball was a respectable man, no cheques were dishonoured till then—this cheque dated April 30th is the only one made payable to Stewart.
WILLIAM HENRY BOND . I live at 5, Marinton Road, Brompton, and am Manager to Tmre Kiralfy—we have a quantity of rifles—there was never any question of their being purchased by the prisoner—we never had anything to do with him.
ARTHUR CLARK (sergeant, C.) On September 22nd I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest—he was detained at Vine Street Station—I read the warrant to him, and he said, "Homer and I had been at a French restaurant on this night, and after dinner, Homer said, Where can we go and have a quiet drink?'I said, 'We will go to the Cock and see Trip, and have a drink with him.' When we got there we inquired for Trip, and we were told he was upstairs, I sent for him, and he came down. He said, 'We are having a quiet game up-stairs with a few friends, will you join us?'I said I had only £3, and the Baron said he had no money, unless Trip could cash a cheque. We went upstairs and played till six. I lost £12, and the Baron lost what he had"—he said he had no address, and no occupation—he said he slept at a restaurant off Leicester Square—he said he came to London on the previous day from Paris.
Cross-examined. His statement was made quite voluntarily—he gave me no address in Paris—I have not been able to find out his address here.
Re-examined. The prisoner lived in Gerrard Street three years ago.
Evidence for the Defence.
DONALD STEWART (the Prisoner) sworn. At one time I held a commission in H.M. Service, and have now retired as a captain—I first knew Trip in December last; I was introduced to him by a man named Stormont, Trip's friend—since then I have been into Trip's nearly every night—I was in active communication with the Moorish Government—I obtained the concessions direct from the Syndicate appointed by the Swiss Government for 50,000 rifles and 10,000,000 smokeless cartridges—I first met Homer two years ago at Ostend, and have seen him frequently since—I always thought he was in funds—on May 20th I was on friendly terms with him, and also with Trip—we had had dinner at a restaurant on May 21st, and afterwards Romer said, "Where can we go to have a quiet talk and a drink?"—I said, "Let us go to the Cock"—we went in to have our talk in a quiet part of the place, which is reserved for friends—there is a stair-case which leads upstairs—I believe Trip came down the stairs—I introduced Romer—Trip then said, "There is a friend of yours upstairs; we are having a quiet game, poker"—I said, "I should like to play, but I have only got £2 or £3 in my pocket"—Rainer said to Trip, "I have got still less; I have only got some silver, but if you will change me a cheque I shall be very pleased to play"—Trip looked at me and said, "A friend of yours?"—I said, "Certainly"—this cheque (produced) written by Romer, was not written in my presence; I went upstairs and left them together—the last thing I saw was that Trip went into the bar where he keeps his desk, and Romer brought out his pocket-book to write the cheque—Trip did advance £5 to Romer—I thought Roraer was able to meet the cheque—I went Upstairs and found Stormont and two other men in the
room—I had never been in it before—the table was ready for cards—Romer lost all he had—I lost £12—I was "hard up" at that time—I always am—till 3 a.m. everything went smoothly, then there was a row between Homer and Stormont—Romer left the room—I left about six o'clock with 3d.—the next day I met Romer, and he abused me for taking him to such a place, and that he would stop the cheque—I said, "Don't stop the cheque, it will put me in an awkward position"—I went to Trip and said, "This fellow will not pay you; he is going to stop his cheque"—I said I was getting some money and I would pay him—I first knew Ball in May—I went to his office and entered into negotiations with him—on May 25th I wanted £3 from him—he gave me a cheque—on May 26th I went to Ball's house—I had been to his office about five o'clock—he was not there—this was the first occasion I had been to his house—Ball opened the door, and took me into the kitchen—he know I came for this £3, which he owed me—I had asked him previously—I said, "Will you give me that £3?"—he said, "I have no cheque-book here; it is at the office"—I said, "That is of no consequence; I will stick a stamp on it if you will give it me on a half sheet of paper"—he said he did not like a half sheet because they were rather nasty at the Bank—I said, "I will guarantee that that will never go in if you will promise a cheque to-morrow"—we were alone—he went for pen, ink and paper—he returned followed by his wife who had got the paper—I had never seen her before—we talked about the baby she was carrying and not about the paper—Ball wrote the cheque, and I left—I went back to Trip's and they told me he had gone to the Edinboro' Castle to a concert, and I followed him there—I wanted the money to pay a telegram—I saw Trip and said I would give him a proper cheque to-morrow, and he then gave me £3—I asked him as a friend not to pay it in, and he did not—I thought then that Ball would give me a proper cheque—I went to his office next day—Ball was not. there, and a day or two after I find the bailiffs in it—I had to leave England for the Continent as I bad a "deal" of my own going on—I did not return to London till September 21st.
Cross-examined. I could have sent the telegram without getting the £3—I have seen Ball since in Paris—I do not believe that Romer had been in the Cock until May 20th—I borrowed some money from Romer—I don't know how much—I lived in Gerrard Street three years ago. When I wrote "I am in the hands of others" I meant I was in the hands of Ball and the people who owed me money—sending the half-sheet in would annoy the drawer.
WALTER SEYMOUR . Many years ago I had a great deal to do with arms—I know Ball—I went to his office once—there were two clerks and a typewriter—I had business relations with him—I met him abroad—I heard of a Captain Stewart—I thought he was abroad to sell arms—I know a firm of stockbrokers named Fitch and Co.—I knew that they were in communication with Ball—I knew the prisoner was abroad in August. I believe he paid bills for Ball—I do not remember ever having written to Ball.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on February 6th, 1893, and one other conviction was provet against him.— Judgment respited.
3. MAJOR HERBERT ALFRED DAVIES PLEADED GUILTY to Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences £30 2s. 10d. and other sums from William Shipway, and forging and uttering copies of wills and other documents.
MR. C. W. MATHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. WADDY appeared for the prisoner.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 21st, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted, and the evidence watt interpreted to the
ALBERT EDWARD HALL . I manage the business of my father, a house agent, at 42, Blandford Road, Chiswick—in June last the prisoner came to me with a man named Delbeck, and inquired about a house, 2, Wellcock Road, Bedford Park, Chiswick—they gave me an address, and the prisoner signed this agreement, and became the tenant for a year, at the rent of £26 12s.—I handed the prisoner the key, and he occupied the house—he was there on October 16th.
ALFRED ROGERS . I am manager of the Hammersmith Furnishing Company, King Street—the prisoner came to my office in. June last year with a man whom I know as Delbeck, and I supplied furniture on the hire system, under an agreement made with Delbeck, to the value of £10—it was sent to 2, Wellock Road—Delbeck paid a portion of the purchase money,£2 4s, and on October 3rd the prisoner made a payment of 12s.—it had fallen into arrears at that time.
ALFRED EDWARD CHEESE . I am an engineer and motor-car manufac turner, of 18, Middleton Street, Clerkenwell—I have known the prisoner since the beginning of this year us an electrical engineer—about the middle of last June he brought me a drawing for making a die—I call everything for stamping out metal, a die—I made it—this is it (produced); he paid £5 or £5 10s. for it and took it away—there was nothing to lead me to suppose it was for making counterfeit coin; it is for cutting any metal—some time afterwards he told me that it was used in making jewellery—after that he gave me an order for an hydraulic jack which weighed about 1 1/2 cwt., which is used for lifting heavy machinery; it would lift up to fifty tons—he said that it was for making ancient jewellery—he paid me £8 out of £8 10s.—after that he wanted a casting to contain the jack; he had the pattern made, and I took him to an iron firm, Utter Brothers in Clerkenwell—he does not speak English, but I speak French.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You told me that you had to get the money from someone else—you were very ragged—I saw the agreement, but I did not see the address.
EDWARD LITTLEWOOD . I live at 42, Francefield Road, Highbury—in June last I was in the employ of Messrs. Utter, of Clerkenwell—I saw the prisoner there with Mr. Crease—I made this casting, and he came with Mr. Crease and took it away—the prisoner paid for it through Mr. Creese.
JAMES BOWELL . I live at 27, Rose Road, and am in the employ of Buckland & son, who have flatting mills—about the end of July or the beginning of August the prisoner, who was a stranger to me, brought some silver in five or six pieces, which was to be flattened down to fit in the slot in this gauge (produced)—he spoke very broken English—I could not understand him—I carried out his order—he returned on the same day—it was handed to him in thin bars without holes, and he paid for it—I identify some of these bars as the last which he brought, by the length and width—he brought silver between sixteen and twenty times to hare it flattened—it was the same kind of transaction on each occasion; we charged him 6d. per ounce, and altogether he paid about £1—the last visit was October 14th or 15th—he brought between 10 ounces and 16 ounces on each occasion, and altogether we converted about 100 ounces into bars—he gave no name or address—he always received the silver back himself from me.
Cross-examined. You did not give me your card on the first occasion, you may have given it to another young man—you brought no metal but silver.
ROBERT MARKHAM (Police Sergeant, T.) On October 16th, about 11 a.m., I went with Sergeant Fowler to 2. Wellock Road, Chiswick—it is a seven-roomed house—I saw the prisoner there and his wife who has since been discharged—I spoke in English, and said, "We are police officers; you are suspected of manufacturing counterfeit coin"—he said nothing to that—we were all in plain clothes—I searched the back parlour, ground floor, and found a large hydraulic jack of fifty tons' pressure—the prisoner said that it was to make medals—Mr. Creese and Dr. Rose have seen it—I directed two officers to detain the prisoners in the room, and went up to the first floor back, which was fitted up as a work-shop, and found files, brushes, tools, this unfinished die, some bottles of acid, and powders (produced)—I went to the first floor front, the prisoner's bedroom; the boards of the floor were nailed down, I took them up, and found underneath ten shilling dies obverse and reverse, a collar for milling, this cutting machine, a quantity of metal stamped with the head of a shilling, this engraving—I took them all downstairs, and said to the prisoner, "I found all these articles upstairs in your bedroom under the floor"—he said, "Yes"—I found this pair of tongs in the kitchen, and a crucible with metal in it against the copper fire, but there was no fire there.
HENRY FOWLER (Police Sergeant T.) I accompanied Markham, and took part in the search—I caught hold of the handle of the press and was attempting to work it and the prisoner said in broken English that it took two to work it—we went to the bedroom and found under the floor three packets of coin with 61 finished dies and 14 unfinished; also some double pieces of metal perforated (produced,) he said nothing—I took them to the station and charged them—Noel was called to interpret.
ALFRED NOEL (323 T) I was called to Chiswick Police-station to interpret the charge against a man and woman as I speak French; they were charged with having in their possession a machine for making counterfeit coin; I interpreted the charge to them and made this note: the prisoner said, "Delbeck came to me with a solicitor and told me it was not a felony to make coin if it was made of the same quality of silver as the coins of the realm; it was only as we say in French contraband. Delbeck had some of the coins from me; I have not seen him for three weeks, he went away owing money to everybody and was heavily in my debt, about £65. I only used the coins to buy enough to live upon"—on the following day there had been a communication made to the Swiss Legation, and he said, "I came to England in April, 1897, and worked at Steven's, engineers, at Woolwich, where I lived. On the arrival of my wife I went to Jive at 116, Arlington Road; I met Delbeck at a French restaurant, he told me I could make plenty of money in England, with the invention I had for making jewellery, Delbeck found the money for all; he changed for me, as I cannot speak English. The frame was made by Goutan, of Clerkenwell, I do not know the street. The hydraulic press was bought on the other side of the Thames, and they were brought to 2, Wellock Road, and Delbeck helped me wich the frame; he went and saw the agent, and went with four or five men to get into the house. I intended it for old French jewellery. I only used the coins to buy enough to live upon; they are 109 parts silver and 11 parts copper. Delbeck lived at 28 and 56, High Street, and did business as a maker of furniture, and told me he had been in business many yearn. I have not seen him for three weeks. He owed me £65 and 10 per cent, on our agreement"—on October 26th he said at the Police-court, "I heard statements that articles mentioned were made for the purpose of making half-crowns. I want to make a clean breast of it. I first made the plate for the purpose of making half-crowns; Delbeck on seeing it said that it would require heavy machinery to make half-crowns; I then made shillings. Delbeck said that he had a friend who knew of a metal to make sovereigns from, who persisted in making the same. I did not make any sovereigns—that statement was made voluntarily—I made a note of each at the time.
Cross-examined. The first half-crown was made by the order of Delbeck.
THOMAS KIRK ROSE . I am a Doctor of Science of the University of London, and Assayer to the Royal Mint—on October 13th all these articles were shown to me—I have also seen the large jack and the casting; one plant consists of this cutting machine, which is used for cutting plates about the size of a shilling, out of silver strips similar to these cut bars if power was furnished to it by this jack—it would cut out blocks similar to these, using the press to do it—the machine is complete for stamping coin; these are the two dies—they closely resemble genuine dies—counterfeit coin is not usually made by stamps, but by casting.
By the COURT. No heating is required by this process, they are simply stamped, but between the two cuttings they are heated to a red heat that they may take the impression of the stamp better—these tongs hold a little box in which they are heated, but they would be allowed to cool before
being stamped—here are some coins which I can see were stamped from these two dies—they are made very well indeed, and ace completely finished: the material is 88 1/2 parts silver and the rest copper—the correct quantity should be 92 1/2; they contain 885 parts of silver per 1,000—there are a number of blanks there which correspond with the cuttings from the small bars—these acids might be used for cleaning, and the powders for polishing—here is a crucible; there was some metal in it—all these implements constitute the stock in trade of a highly skilled coiner—the slot in the gauge is about the thickness of the slot from which a genuine shilling would be made—these shillings were not made at the Mint nor were the dies—there are punches and other machinery, showing that the dies were probably made on the spot—this engraving might be used for making a die, it is a head of the Queen—there are two lines on a pivot, so that the large head of the Queen may be reduced to a small one.
Cross-examined. The gauge is a little wider, bat it is about the thickness of the genuine one, about the might of an inch wider—all the things found but one would be used for silver money, and no other; one might be used for gold.
Prisoner's Defence. It was not for myself that I did it, but for another man; he brought a solicitor to me, and told me that it was so easy. I do not understand the English law, but in reality is was not intended for England at all, but for the Transvaal.
GUILTY .—Dr. Rose stated that the coins were so well made that they could not be detected in a tester, and that they rang very well, and would not bend.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
The COURT commended the conduct of Sergeants Markham and Noel,
5. WALTER CHAMBERS (23) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a purse and 2s. from the person of Winnifred Welby, and the said WALTER CHAMBERS and GEORGE ELDRIDGE (33) to stealing a watch from the person of William Emmett, Eldridge having been convicted at this Court in July, 1896. Four other convictions were proved against Aldridge, and three against Chambers. CHAMBERS— Twelve Months' Hard Labour . ELDRIDGE— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 22nd, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
6. WALTER WILLIAM WOODGATE (33) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously affixing to a document certain stamps, which had been removed from another document. He received a good character.— Six Months, Hard Labour.
7. HENRY MORGAN (18) , to stealing a watch from the person of Herbert Victor Baker, having been convicted at Cierkenwell on January 6th, 1896. Six other convictions were proved against him.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
8. ALFRED MAHEW (21) to stealing a cart, the property of William Davies having been convicted at Petersfield on November 14th, 1896; also, to stealing a gelding and harness of Frederick Golledge; also to stealing £5, the money of his master. Five other convictions were proved against, him.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour .
9. STEPHEN POWERS (65) to stealing a purse and £1 19s. 12d. from the person of Jane Martindill, having been convicted at Clerkenwell on April 24th, 1893. Other convictions were proved against him, and he had been in custody in Frankfort, Brussels, and Paris.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude.
10. BLANCHE TAPSCOTT (28) to stealing a cash-box, six brooches, five gold rings and other articles, the property of Rose Padley, her mistress: also, to stealing a box, the property of Edith Harvey, her mistress; also, to stealing two coats and two waistcoats, the goods of Harry Parry, having been convicted at this Court on April 2nd, 1894. Five other convictions were proved against her.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
11. JOHN BISHOP (37) to stealing a bicycle, the property of Arthur Charles Brown having been convicted at Liverpool on December 14th, 1897. Two other convictions were proved against him— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Eighteen Months Hard Labour.
GUILTY .— The JURY recommended Downy to mercy.
O'CONNOR— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
DOWLEY— Judgment respited.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. LEYCESTER Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 23rd, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. C. F. GILL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RANDOLPH, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
For other cases tried this day, see Essex and Surrey Cases.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, November 23rd and 21th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. C. MATHIVWS and STEVENSON Prosecuted, and MR. MUIR
had a man in my employ named Bronstein to attend to customers—the prisoner has been a customer for a considerable time—he came pretty well every day for tobacco which Bronstein supplied to him, and made him out invoices—there was a weekly settlement every Sunday—Bronstein made it out and Grosse came, and paid it—I have been there sometimes, and sometime my missus Zand Bronstein would open the ledger and show him that he was to pay so much—I took what Bronstein said, to be true—he kept the ledger; this is the day-book (produced)—I have entries here of goods sold to Grosse by Bronstein from which I have made this list; they come to £5 3s. 8d. on February 20th, and on that day there was a receipt corresponding with them in date, but the goods do not correspond to the entries in the day-book; it is £3 11s, 5d. there, making a difference of £1 12s. 3d. between the price and the amount actually paid by Grosse—four boxes of cigarettes are entered, and only three are in the day-book—some of these are entered in the day-book, and some not at all—this is a copy of my invoice book of February 20th—these items were taken from the day-book—I cannot find the smaller one in the day-book, but the other is—I find in the invoice book a carbon duplicate invoice of goods sold on July 27th, 1898, amounting to £4 0s. 5 1/2d. in Bronstein's writing, and this is a duplicate of it—there is no receipt but the entry in the ledger of July 27th is £2 0s. 5 1/2d., as paid by Grosse on August 16th—here is a carbon duplicate, goods £3 15s. 4d. supplied to Grosse on August 15th, and the ledger entry is £2 15s. 4d. in Bronstein's writing—on August 26th the duplicate invoice is £4 12s. 11 1/2d., and the ledger entry is £3 12s. 8d, paid by Grosse—on August 29th the invoice is £3 14s. 11d., and the ledger entry £2 0s. 7d.—on August 30th the invoice entry is £3 12s. 3d., and the ledger entry £2 7s. 9d.—on September 22nd the invoice entry is £4 17s. 11d., and the ledger entry £2 17s. 11d.—on this invoice on the depositions there is an addition of 1,000 L. S. cigarettes, which does not appear on the original—I am short, between June and September, of £20 7s. 3d.—I have not seen Bronstein since the issue of the warrant—I gave receipts to Grosse when he came on Sundays when I was there, and my mistress when, I was not there. (Mr. MUIR here produced repents of July 27th and August 16th and 26th).
Cross-examined. The prisoner has been a customer a year and a half—I said before the Magistrate, "I cannot swear that the defendant's custom has not totalled up to £1,500"—I have not totalled it up since—he always settled on Sundays, both before and after Easter this year; but I began to keep a ledger at Easter—the day-book is in Bronstein's writing—this entry of February 20th is in pencil, the others are in ink—the only corresponding items are "Myrtle Grove, 5s. 9d.," and "Cigarettes, 3s. 3d."—there are four boxes in one, and two two's in the other—both the day-book and invoices are in Bronstein's writing—this is the receipt—it was Bronstein's duty to make out the invoice from the day-book—this list, marked "A," is in my writing; I made it out after the prisoner was arrested—this is the duplicate invoice book; it exactly corresponds with the ledger—this entry in the ledger,£2 5s. 5 1/2d., is in much darker ink than the rest—it has been 8, 5, 6 1/2, but there is an erasure on the 8—the £8 5s. 6 1/2d. was all paid at one time; it is in Bronstein's writing—as far as I know, Bronstein never received any money at all—I or my mistress
always received it: I can write, but she cannot—I look I at the ledger to see how much was owing and the entry was made then and there under Grossed eyes—Bronstein gave the receipts on paper—I do not know whether the prisoner got any receipts when my mistress was there—this "1,000 L.S.C." means cigarettes; the amount is 12s.; that is not in the corresponding book—this book never was in the prisoner's possession—in the corresponding item the £2 has been written over an erasure; I cannot say what has been rubbed out—I do not know what this "£10 cash" means—it is Bronstein's writing, nobody else writes in that book; that is my only reason for saying that it is his—it is not my writing—I wanted some cash during the week and he gave me £10—I had forgotten all about that—these receipts produced to-day are by me—this paper of August 21st is not a statement, it is only a remark; I received the cash but the document is not receipted—the prisoner continued to pay his weekly items up to October 2nd—On September 12th there was a balance of £12 and he paid part of it—he told me in October that he had found a mistake of £1, and I told him that it had been corrected—Bronstein had said something to me about it—I do not remember saying before the Magistrate "I cannot say that I did not on one occasion omit to charge him £3 12s. for 600 Woodbine cigarettes"—I do not remember his reminding me that I had not charged him for some Cinderellas—if a customer comes himself we hand him the invoice; if we send the goods the invoice goes with them—mine are mostly cash customers—they do not always have invoices with the goods—my wife and I and Bronstein sold goods—when Bronstein went out my wife would sell—so far as I know Bronstein never went out when I left my wife there—we do not give invoices to cash customers—I do not know Sarah Wentfield, a tobacconist (Sarah Wentfield was called in)—she was nob a customer at all—she has been there once or twice—Grosse used to take away the invoices himself—he came almost daily for goods—when he came invoices were not delivered to him of goods obtained the previous day; it might have happened once—when it was suggested that I was being robbed I investigated my books from May 31st without help from anybody—I also looked at other customers' accounts, but did not find that Bronstein had defrauded me in them—all my customers are not in the ledger, it extends from February 7th to this time—the first entry of Grosse is on May 31st, not before, because Bronstein told me it was not necessary to put him in the ledger—when I went through the accounts I had two customers in my mind, the other accounts have not been examined at all—since Bronstein went away, Somers, a clerk from the solicitors', has kept the books, I have not been reminded on sixteen or twenty occasions that I have not charged him with goods amounting to £30: never.
Re-examined.—I recollect Grosse paying me £1 in October; I had not spoken to Bronstein before that, but he told me that he had made a mistake of £1 and opened the invoice book and made a "2" into a "3" after which Grosse paid the £1, but I cannot tell how long after—Bronstein would not produce any document when Grosse came in to pay on Sundays, but he would look at the ledger and see that it came to so much—that is what I mean by the statements—Grosse did not ask me
what he owed on October 2nd, nor did I open the book and make an alteration from 17 to 18.
SOPHY GROVICH . I am the prosecutor's wife and assist him in business—I met Mrs. Goldstein, the prisoner's mother-in-law, in the street in Whitechapel one Thursday morning; I cannot fix the date—she spoke to me, and I spoke to her—I left her and went back to the shop, and made a statement to my husband.
WILLIAM REED (Police Inspector.) On October 7th I received a warrant for the apprehension of the prisoner and Bronstein—I went to Bronstein's address, but could not find him—I went to the prisoner's place of business, and asked him if Bronstein was there—he said, "No; I have not seen him"—I said, "I am a police officer," and read the warrant to him for conspiring by subtle devices to obtain money—he said, "How much?"—I read the warrant again—he said, "Bronstein was here this morning—I expected this; this is what my mother-in-law has done; I have good Counsel"—I showed him this document showing £16 or £20 short between June and July—he said, "I can explain all"—I asked if he had any books or documents which would assist him—he said no, but there were sixty four invoices in a drawer in the shop and one was upstairs; there was the one of February 20th—it was apart from all the others—he said he did not keep any books—he keeps a retail tobacconist's shop.
Cross-examined. He did not say "There has been a mistake about last week's bill"—he said, "There is a mistake"—Bronstein's name is mentioned in the warrant, and immediately I read it he said, "Bronstein has been here"—the sixty-four invoices were in a drawer in the shop—the earliest date of them is July 24th this year—the document which was produced from the bag was dated February 20th; I went with him and saw him take it from the bag where there were numerous letters—I examined them all; he was about to put this document away and I asked him what it was, and said, "Let me look at it"—the bag was on the bed and he took me to it—I searched his part of the house and brought away every document I could see which had Mr. Grovich's name on it—the prisoner has been in England five years next April, and as far as I know he has borne a good character—all the documents which I took from him I showed to the prosecutor; invoices, and one statement.
Re-examined. These documents which are headed "Statement" were not produced to me by the prisoner.
MR. MUIR called.
IGNACE GROSSE (the Prisoner sworn.) I am a tobacconist, of 195, Shaftesbury Avenue—I was a Russian subject; I came to England in 1894, and was first employed as a waiter at a restaurant in Church Lane four months—I afterwards travelled in the perfumery and tobacco line, and two years ago I was appointed hon-secretary of the Master Hairdressers Association—I have had my present business since May—up to Easter I paid the prosecutor cash on delivery, but after I went into my new premises I paid him a weekly account on Sundays—I did not always receive an invoice with the
goods when I got them, and when I did not I made a note on a sheet of paper—when I paid on Sundays the statement which I have produced to-day was shown to me, sometimes by the prosecutor and sometimes by Bronstein—when I got the statement I took out my sheet of paper and compared it to see whether it was right or not, and sometimes he had forgotten something—if it was correct I paid it, and if it was incorrect I corrected it and paid the amount, always to the prosecutor or his wife—he entered it in the book—I did not get a receipt for all; there was not always time—these are two of the receipts; and here are some others which I received in the same way—he wrote something in the ledger when he was there, and when he was not Bronstein wrote it—I did not always compare the goods I received with the invoice, and sometimes I got goods without getting an invoice at all, and it was not delivered the next day when I went—every invoice I have given to the police was not given to me with the goods; sometimes they were given me when I came the next time, either to me or to my messenger, and in that case I compared them with the goods—on one occasion, on a Friday, I called the prisoner's attention to some Woodbines and Cinderellas, he produced the amount £3 12s. less and I told him of it; that was the largest amount, and there were other occasions, over a dozen—they would amount to over £30—on October 2nd I had an invoice and asked him the amount, he said £17 odd; I took out my book and it was £18 odd, I told him, and he went to the book and found that it was so and I paid him—the prisoner said that it was quite right at 18 and not 17, and he got pen and ink and aloe red it himself—I am clear that some of the sums entered when Bronstein was not there were entered by the prosecutor himself—I never got money or goods through Bronstein fraudulently—I knew him as the prosecutor's servant—he visited my shop when I was married on September 14th, but on no other occasion—he said on that occasion, "They have taken out a warrant against you for attempting to defraud the prosecutor"—I said, "How do you know?" he said that Mr. Frank the brother-in-law of the prosecutor's wife had been to his place and told him as a friend that my brother-in-law had taken out a warrant against him and me, and it was all through the spite of my mother-in-law and the mother of my wretched sister-in-law—I did not believe that a warrant was out—he went away, and did not tell me where he was going or where he intended to go—that was about nine o'clock—after that I had a visit from Mr. Grovich, and a form came about ten minutes afterwards—I was in the shop, attending to my business; I keep it open on Saturdays—my relations with Mrs. Goldstein are not friendly—before I married my wife she was earning wages and keeping her mother, Mrs. Goldstein—I got a present from her on my wedding; it was a piece of string, to hang myself; a piece of soap, to prepare me for burial, and a piece of black cloth.
Cross-examined. I have known Bronstein about three years since I went to the prosecutor's shop—I have been there almost daily from May 31st, except on Saturdays, and saw him on almost every occasion, but never away from the shop, except when he was a guest at my marriage, or when I accidentally met him in the street in the daytime, never at night; we spoke on those occasions—I was not more
friendly with him than with others—he came to me about 9.30 on October 8th to tell me about this change—that was the first I heard of it—when the officer came Bronstein had been there between 9 and 9.30 that very morning; when the officer asked me if Bronstein was in the house I said, "No, he has not been here; I have not seen him"—he had not said that he was an officer—I afterwards said that Bronstein had been there about 9.30—I did not say, "This is what your mother-in-law does for you," I said that I had heard about it through Bronsttin, and it was all through my mother-in-law—I said, "I have heard all about it, I expected this"—I did not say, "I have good Counsel"—Bronstein is the only person who told me that my mother-in-law had been making an accusation against him and me; she told me that morning—I did not believe that any charge was made—I do not know what has become of Bronstein; he did not say what he was going to do—I never asked him whether he was going back to his service—I did not ask him if he had done anything wrong—I said that I could not make it out—this document had been in a trunk—the officer asked me if I had any documents, and I took out the black bag, and took out all my invoices—this in the only one of the prosecutor's invoices taken out of the bag—I held it in my hand, and said that it was the prosecutor's invoice—I was not about to put it away—I did not say, "That is nothing"—I deny what the officer has stated—before I took possession of the shop I lived in a private lodging, and all my documents had been kept in that black bag, and all my private letters have been kept separate—it does not belong to the shop which I opened on May 31st—I recognise it as a receipt signed-by Bronstein for £3 11s. 9d.—the account is in his writing, but not the word "Paid"—it is the fact that under the date of February 20th I had been supplied with a quantity of goods from the prosecutor's shop—the total amount of goods supplied to me did not amount to £5 3s. 8d—the sum I paid was £3 11s. 5d.—on July 27th, 1898, the sum I paid the prosecutor for goods supplied was £2 0s. 5 1/2d; that is quite clear—the invoice I myself supplied shows a delivery on that day of goods, value £4 0s, 5 1/2d.—I kept the invoice and handed it to the officer—I have not handed the receipt to the officer—I have not paid the difference of £2 between those two documents—Bronstein was generally present on Sunday when I went to pay, but not always—he would show me the amounts—I have got no document showing that any goods were returned—I always had the invoice of the goods of August 26th in my possession till I delivered it to the officer—between September 29th and October 2nd I saw Bronstein at the prosecutor's shop, but nowhere else; I did not hear between those dates what my mother-in-law charged me with—it was not after my mother-in-law had told Mrs. Grovich that I went to the prosecutor's shop for the first time and told him that I was £1 short—I made the payment three days after the conversation—when I said, "I heard of it, I expected this," that had no reference to my mother-in-law.
Re-examined. The prosecutor was also a guest at my wedding—Bronstein came into my shop when I opened it, but not into the private house—there are six items in this statement, and the invoice produced to me only relates to one of them—I am asked to point out from that invoice the
goods which are returned—the discrepancy is £2 instead of £4, and there is a £2 item in the statement.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 23rd, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. P. C. PROBYN Prosecuted.
MR. HUTTON appeared for Long and MR. BURNIE for Marlow.
GEORGINA ELLICOTT . I am the housekeeper for Mr. Lawrence, pawnbroker, 386, Hornsey Road—about 3 a.m. on October 31st I was woke up by a slight noise at my bedroom window, which I had fastened before going to bed, and which looks on to waste ground at the back—I lay a minute or two and watched the blind, which moved—I heard again a noise at the window—I got out of bed and palled up the blind—then I saw my window was open at the bottom—I looked out and saw a ladder that did not belong to us at the end of the yard—I locked my bedroom door and went downstairs to the front door and spoke to a man who was passing—the police came—I went to the police-station at 6 a.m.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I hare not said that I heard footsteps outside the house—I asked the inspector if the man was wearing silent boots because I had not heard any steps—at the station I did not notice that he was wearing thick boots.
GEORGE CLOAK (514 Y). About 3 a.m. on October 31st I was on duty in the Hornsey Road in plain clothes—I watched the prisoners who were loitering—I knew Long kept a shop in the Hornsey Road, and I have seen Marlow there—I saw them enter a gateway adjoining 384, Hornsey Road—I was on the opposite side about forty feet away—the pawnbroker's shop is 386—I kept observation at the rear of the premises in Pine Grove—I saw them leave the rear of 384 and hurriedly walk away—I was standing at the bottom of Gladstone Street and Pine Grove in the middle of the road—they came over the wall of the old brewery of Lovibond's, which is now untenanted—I followed them across Tollington Park to Burnham Road, a continuation of Pine Grove—I ran to catch them—they turned and saw me and commenced to run—I gave chase and blew my whistle—I followed through Moray Road into Durham Road where they separated, Marlow ran through Bedford Terrace and Long through Hatley Road—I followed Long who was stopped by P.C. Baxter at the corner of Palmerston Road and
Lennox Road—when Long was in the custody of Baxter and Sergeant Wright, he said, "Let me lace my boots, let me put my boot on"—it was half off, he was trying to get it on; it was unlaced—I saw the prisoner's faces in the Burnham Road under a light—I lost sight of them when turning the corner only for a few seconds—Marlow was brought to the station at 7 a.m.
Examined by MR. BURNIE. Long made no noise—I do not suggest he was running with his boots off—I was observing them about 35 feet away—I lost sight of them when they went in the gateway between 283 and 284 belonging to Phillips' stores, about quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—when I saw them the second time I was 25 yards off.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I did not then know Marlow lodged with Long—I do now.
Re-examined. I saw them when the light was on them—I hare no doubt they are the men.
OLIVER BAXTER (706 7). On October 31st, about 3 a.m., I was in Durham Road with Sergeant Wright going towards Moray Road—hearing a whistle Wright ran towards Moray Road and I ran through Lennox Road—I saw Long running towards me and turn into the Hatley Road—I went back and stopped him at the corner of Lennox Road and Palmerston Road—he ran into my arms—I said, "What are you running for?" he answered, "Nothing" and placed his hands behind him, drew this revolver from a pouch attacked to a belt he was wearing round his waist—he presented it at my stomach with his right hand—I knocked the revolver aside and closed with him—after a severe struggle I wrenched the revolver from his hand—Wright came up—I handed the revolver to him and with his assistance took Long to the station—the revolver was fully loaded in five chambers—when I searched him at the station I found this leather pouch in his trousers' pocket containing 10 more cartridges; they fit the revolver—also a bunch of keys and a £5 Bank of Engraving note.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. There was gas light and the moon was shining brightly—he went quietly to the station after I with difficulty got the revolver away—I was not in uniform.
JOSEPH WRIGHT (93 F). I was with Baxter in Durham Road and heard a police whistle from the direction of Tollington Park—we ran and when between Lennox and Hatley Roads we saw the prisoners running—at the top of Bedford Terrace they divided—Marlow ran down Bedford Terrace—I recognised them—I knew them, but had forgotten Marlow's name—I was between 50 and 60 yards off or a little more—both were running towards us—it was a bright moonlight night; the moon was about full—I gave directions to Baxter, who doubled back, round Lennox Road—I followed Long into the Hatley Road—in Palmerston Road I saw Baxter struggling with him, and I ran up and caught hold of Long—he had this five-chambered revolver in his hand, and Baxter told me he had pointed it at his stomach—Long made no remark to that—Marlow turned down Bedford Terrace, in the direction of Victor Road.
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I was not 300 yards off—I might
have been 80 yards—I know Marlow lodged at Long's, where he was arrested.
JOHN NOLAN (Sergeant Y.) I arrested Marlow in the Hornsey Road at 7.30 a.m. on October 31st—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with James Long in committing a burglary at 286, Hornsey Road, a pawnbroker's shop; also for presenting arms at the police—he said, "I can prove where I was from 2 o'clock yesterday"—I conveyed him to Hornsey Road Police-station—he said, "I suppose the b—fool 'Gip' has put me away"—Long is known as "Gip."
Cross-examined by MR. BURNIE. I did not make a note of what he said, because it was such a short statement—he was about ten yards from Long's shop—he lives there.
JAMES COMPTON . I am a milkman, of I, Paddington Street, Durham Road—on October 31st I was going my rounds in Victor Road about 3.40 p.m.—in the garden of No. 49 I found this dark lantern and two jimmies, as though they had been dropped over the gateway—I took them home—the next morning, when I served the police-station, I took them with me.
WILLIAM MOUNTFIELD (Inspector, 7). I am stationed at the Hornsey Road Police-station—at 4 p.m. on October 31 dt I saw Long, who was detained there—I examined the premises at 386, Hornsey Road—I found the window-sill had been forced with a jemmy—there is a wall ten feet high, and a ladder had been taken from the adjoining garden—the gate is left open, and by scaling the wall and getting on the top of the sculleries one could get into 386—another ladder was also used—I found the back bed-room window of 386 had been forced by a jemmy, and the yellow paint on the sill is identical with this on the jemmy—the window catch was forced off, and I found it by the side of the window in the room—I went to the station—I charged Long with burglary—he said, "I do not see what that has to do with me, Inspector"—I proceeded to his lodgings at an address he gave me—I saw two women the prisoners were cohabiting with, and in consequence of a con venation with them, and a description by Cloak and Wright, I caused a telegram to be circulated giving Marlow's description—that eventually appeared in the printed information—Marlow was brought to the station at 7.30, and identified by Cloak and Wright—on my charging him he said, "I can prove where I was from 2 p.m. yesterday"—the woman made a statement which I read to Marlow in her presence.
Evidance for Marlow.
WILLIAM MARLOW (The. Prisoner, sworn.) I have been lodging with my wife in the same house as Long—on October 31st I went out about 6.30 p.m. to London Street, Tottenham Court Road, my mother's place—I left her about 10 45 p.m.—I went to my club in Golden Square—that has since been raided as a gambling club I believe—I stopped there about an hour and a-half—I left there with a prostitute—we went to a house in Percy Street, Tottenham Court Road—I stayed with her till about 6.30 or 6.45 a.m.—from there I went to the Hampstead Road, got a tram and went home—I knew nothing of this burglary till I was arrested the next morning—I never said at the station I supposed "Gip" had put me away—I said what the officer said, that I knew nothing about it, and could prove where I was.
Cross-examined. When I left home I saw the clock in the public-house, and it was between twenty minutes and half-past six—it was thirty minutes' ride by the tram to London Street—I saw my mother, brothers, and sisters that evening and a sister-in-law—the club I went to was the Alsatian—I had been there on several occasions—I went there to see this young woman—I went there with her—I intended to go to Shaftesbury Avenue, but she took me there—I had a drink at the King's Head at the corner of the Euston and Hampstead Roads—it took me twenty minutes in the tram to get home—I was arrested nearly directly I got off the tram.
—They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions—Long at Ely Quarter Sessions, in October, 1896, in the name of William Shepherd, and Marlow at St. Mary, Newington, in January, 1895.
LONG**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MARLOW**— Five Years' Penal Servitude. There was another indictment against Long for shooting with intent to do grievous bodily harm. The police were commended by the Court for their courage, promptitude, and discretion.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, November 24th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
This prisoner was stated to be unfit to plead, and the JURY were sworn to try that issue. Upon the evidence, of Mr. Charles Read, M.R.C.S., and Dr. James Scott, of H.M. Prisons, Holloway—the JURY found him insane and not in a fit state to plead — To be detained until H.M.'s pleasure be known.
For the case of Thomas George Senior see Essex cases.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 24th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
—JACOBS PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SELLS Prosecuted, and MR. WATT Defended Nathan.
JACOB SMITH . I am a boot manufacturer at 45, Fasham Street—on November 4th I returned home at 2 a.m., opening my door with a latchkey, I saw Nathan in the passage—a lamp from the other side throws a light through the opened door—I caught him by the shoulder—he said, "I am come to work for you"—I said, "You are a nice workman to come to work for me," and cried "Police"—Jacobs and another came down stairs—Jacobs struck me—I caught him and held him till the police came—Im picked out Nathan about 5a.m at the Police-station from ton or
twelve others—a watch, chain,£5, and 6 spoons were stolen, value about £30—they must have got in by a key.
Cross-examined. I had been to a meeting at Dalston at the synagogue—I am a committee-man—I was afraid to shut the door—I saw Nathan's face—I have no doubt he is the man—I did not know him—I held the man—he gave me one in the eye.
GEORGE WILLIS (168 H). I was in Fasham Street and saw Jacobs in charge—I took him to the station where he made a statement to me, and I went to an address he gave in Cadiz Street, about 5a.m,—I took Nathan into custody—he was charged with being concerned with two other men in breaking and entering 45, Fasham Street, and assaulting the prosecutor—he said, "I was not there, I had been in bed since 9 o'clock"—when he was searched I found these skeleton keys—they would not open the door.
Cross-examined. Fasham Street is about two miles from Cadiz Street—Pearse told him he would be taken into custody and charged with committing a burglary that morning and assaulting the prosecutor—Mrs. Jacobs opened the front door—there are other Jodgers in the house—the prosecutor had no hesitation in identifying Nathan from about seven others.
WILLIAM PEARSE (Detective H). About 5 a.m. on November 4th I went to 36, Cadiz Street, with Tyson and Willis—in the first floor back room I saw Nathan—I asked him his name—he told me—I said I was going to take him into custody for being concerned with two other men in breaking into a house in Fasham Street that night—he said, "It is a mistake, I can prove I was in bed at 9 o'clock"—on the way to the station he said, "What is this for?"—I said, "There is a man named Louis Jacobs in custody. He states you were with him last night"—he said. "I can prove you saw me in bed"—he was taken to the station and identified by the prosecutor—Jacobs was brought from the cell and said in Nathan's presence "Abraham Nathan was in the house with me when I was caught at Fasham Street, and another man who is not here, named like"—Nathan turned to me and said, "You saw me in bed"—the distance between the two places is about two miles.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Jacobs opened the door in Cadiz Street—Nathan lives on the first floor—the room was small and full of stuff, but we searched as best we could to find anything—on Nathan 2s. 3d. was found at the station.
ROBERT TYSON (Detective H). I examined the premises at 45, Fasham Street—I found no marks on the door—in the second-floor back room a chest of drawers had been forced open—the entrance appears to have been effected by false keys, but those Willis took from Jacobs did not fit the door—two are skeleton keys and one an ordinary latchkey
Nathan's statement before the Magistrate: "I was at home since 9 o'clock last evening, and went to bed at 9.30. I went to call my wife."
Evidence for Nathan.
ABRAHAM NATHAN (the Prisoner, sworn.) I am a tailor's presser, of 36, Cadiz Street—I left work on November 3rd about 8.45 p.m. at 30, Bedford Street—I went straight home—I went to bed about 9.45 p.m.; I did not look at the time, but I had supper and went to bed—my misses was with me—about 1.30 or 1.45 my misses said somebody was knocking, and I called through the window—I had a conversation with my sister and went back to bed and to sleep—about 5 a.m. the detectives knocked—they came upstairs and said, "What is your name!"—I said "Abraham Nathan"—they said, "We want you, you must dress and come with us"—I dressed and went with them—they said I was charged with committing a burglary—I said they were mistaken, I had been in bed since between 9 and 10—I was taken to the station—I had had a row with Jacobs a few weeks before—he said he would say something—at he station he said I was with him—I said I knew nothing about it—I know nothing about the burglary.
Cross-examined. We do not cook supper, we have only fish and bread—my sister came to know what was the matter with my wife as she had not been to see her for a few weeks—my sister came between 11 and 12—my brother Ike and a lodger were sleeping in the house that night—I knew Jacobs as lodging in the house but he is in the boot line.
NANA NATHAN . I am the wife of the prisoner Abraham Nathan—Jacobs lived in the same house in Cadiz Street—the landlord lives far away—my husband came home the night before his arrest about 10 o'clock—he played with the child—then he went to bed—he remained in bed—he did not leave till the police came—if he had I should have known it—I did not leave the room—my sister, Mrs. Davis, came between 11 and 12—my husband spoke to her through the window—my husband and Jacobs had a quarrel, and Jacobs said, "I am going to drag you into something"—that was three or four weeks before my husband was taken—the quarrel was about my girl of three years spilling a cup of tea and breaking a cup in Jacob's room; he began to shout, my husband came down, the child cried, and said, "It was only a child who could not help it"—my husband is a presser—he has been in regular work for three months but since he has been slack—I have no business with Jacobs.
Cross-examined. My husband came home between 9 and 10; I do not remember exactly; at 10 he was fast asleep—I was not asked before the Magistrate about my sister coming—there was no interpreter at the Police-court
Cross-examined. As soon as they took Nathan into custody I was asked about it, and I went to the police—I did not want to go to the Police-court; I did not want to come here.
NATHAN received a good character.
— NOT GUILTY .
JACOBS— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, November 25th, and Saturday, 26th, 1898.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. A. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. DRAKE Defended.
The JURY being unable to agree, were discharged without giving any verdict, and the trial was postponed till next Session.
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 25th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Minter PLEADED GUILTY to the uttering, and MR. GILL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Keen and Ashby.
— NOT GUILTY .
28. JOHN HUNT and EVERITT JAMES ASHBY were again indicted for forging and uttering an order for £2 11s. 6d., with intent to defraud, and FREDERICK GEORGE KEEN and GEORGE MINTER with inciting him to commit the paid felony.
Hunt and Ashby PLEADED GUILTY. MR. GILL, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Keen and Minter.
Hunt then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at the Central Criminal Court on February 5th, 1894, and Ashby to a conviction at the same Court on September 11th, 1893. There were several other indictments against the prisoners. Several convictions were proved against Hunt and Ashby.
HUNT and ASHBY— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
KEEN and MINTER— Six Months' Hard Labour each.
MR. PASSMORE Prosecuted.
CHARLES HARRY THOMAS . I am a pianoforte maker of 74, Mansfield Road, Kentish Town—on October 31st I was in Brushfield Street, leading out of Bishopsgate Street, with my sister-in-law, walking quietly, and the prisoner struck me a violent blow on my nose and then seized my watch and chain—he kicked me on my knee while I was taking the chain from him, and he bit my hand through and seized me by my private parts—I got the chain back; my watch remained in my pocket—he broke the chain, and I took it from him—my hand was very bad, and bloodpoisoning has set in—the crowd tried to rescue the prisoner, but, he was given in charge.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. My sister-in-law took my watch out of my pocket, but she did not break the chain in doing so—you did not pick it up and give it to me and tell me I had made a mistake—I should speak for the only young man who came to help me.
JANE EMMA THOMAS I am a widow, and sister-in-law to the last witness—on October 31st I was with him, and all of a sudden the prisoner struck him across the nose—I have no doubt about that—my brother-in-law held him by the wrists and he bit his hand—I said, "Here is the chain"—it was a bad bite, and the result is very serious—I the prisoner did not pick the chain up and give it to my brother-in-law.
Cross-examined. I discovered that the watch was in his pocket—I took it out because you said it had dropped on the floor—the chain was not attached to it—I did not see you pick the chain up, or whether you had got it in your hand—I did not see you stagger.
WILLIAM MILLS (451 S). On October 31st, about 8 p.m., I was off duty and in plain clothes in Brushfield Street—I heard a cry of "Police!" and saw the prisoner and the prosecutor—the prisoner had a chain in his hand—I held his hand, and the prosecutor took it away—he fell to the ground and started kicking—I received a blow on my jaw from behind—the prosecutor and I dragged the prisoner into a shop—the mob did not assist; they obstructed me—the prosecutor showed me his hand, which was bitten—the prisoner made no answer when he was given in charge—the prosecutor's nose was bleeding.
Cross-examined. I saw you kick the prosecutor but did not see you bite him—I saw the bite after it was done—I held your hand while he took the chain away—you kicked him on his legs.
JOHN OTTAWAY (City Police Sergeant.) On October 31st I received information in the evening—I went to 65, Bishopsgate Street Without and saw the prisoner detained by the prosecutor and Mills—I said, "What is the matter"—the prosecutor said, "This man has assaulted me and stolen my watch chain"—the prisoner said he had no fixed abode and denied the charge—the prosecutor's nose was bleeding, his hand was bitten and he had a bruise on one of his knees.
JOSEPH WILLIAM WILLIAMS . I am a surgeon of 128, Mansfield Street, Kentish Town—the prosecutor has been under my care since November 2nd; he had a bruise on his nose and another on his left knee, and on his right hand at the base of the index finger were two teeth marks; the hand was red and it resulted in blood poisoning, which is frequently the result of a bite—on Monday, November 7th, his hand was in such a condition that I had to make two incisions in it—it is now much better—he will get the use of it, but it will be another fortnight—he has suffered considerable pain all through.
Cross-examined. I did not see it for two days afterwards—his nose seemed as if it had been cut—a finger nail would not cause it—the condition of the hand would take two days to develop and then he came for advice.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he had been drinking, and ran against the prosecutor who struggled with him, but that it was quite an accident, and has had no intention of robbing him: that the chain got broken and he picked it up and gave it to the prosecutor.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on November 2nd, 1896. Four other convictions were proved against him.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour and Twenty Strokes with the Cat.
The RECORDER ordered a reward of £2 to be paid to Mills for his good behavior.
HENRY BARCHAM . I am one of the trustees of a Methodist Chapel at Cubitt Town—on November 8th I left the chapel locked up and the doors all fastened—next day, November 9th, Beckford's father gave me some spoons, and the same evening I received some more spoons from Mr. Hartley—I gave information to the police—I then went to the chapel, and found a window broken and missed 18 or 20 tea-spoons and 30 dozen salt-spoons and other things.
HERBERT SMITH (431 K). I took Beckford into custody—he said that Jeffery broke the window and got through—I afterwards saw Bryson at the station—Beckford accused him of breaking in—Bryson then admitted it.
JOHN SMITH (796 K). Bryson gave himself up at the station—he said, "I did not break the window, Jeffery broke it by throwing a piece of wood up, and got in"—Jeffery, who was present, said, "I did not, you done it,"
WILLIAM BECKFORD . I am a stationer of Poplar and am Beckford's father—he came in on November 9th between 5 and 6—I said, "What have you got there"—he said, "Nothing"—I asked him again—he said, "Nothing"—I got up from my seat, and he said, "Only some spoons"—his mother came in and said, "Are those your spoons?"—he said, "No," Bryson gave them to me"—I went round to Mrs. Bryson and afterwards to the chapel—I communicated with Barcham— GUILTY—Recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of their youth — One Day's Imprisonment each— Beckford to receive five strokes and Jeffery and Bryson eight strokes each, with a birch rod.
MR. GEOGHEGAN and MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted.
MR. THOMPSON appeared for Weston and MR. DRUMMOND for Harris.
The JURY being unable to agree were discharged without giving a verdict, and the trial was postponed till next Session.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, November 25th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
32. ABRAHAM COHEN (72), BENJAMIN ARBIED (32), and CHARLES BARROWITZ (23), Breaking and entering the warehouse of Solomon Joseph and another, and stealing eighteen fur capes and fifteen suits of clothes, the goods of Stanislaus Jankowitz. Also receiving the same.
SOLOMON JOSEPH . I am a dealer in new and second-hand clothing, in partnership with Mr. Jankowitz, at 1 and 2, Harrow Alley—there are shops and houses above them—I live in one of the house—on October 18th I left business at 8.30 p.m.—my partner locks the door—my stock was all safe—next morning, Wednesday, 19th, about 10, I missed twenty-two capes, fifteen suits, and other things—the suits were worth about £12—the same night, about 8.30, two chaps came in, and asked my partner if he had a waterproof to sell—I was there.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I buy goods for colonial export—I do not know Mr. Kitchener—I know Cohen as a dealer in the market—I have known him ten or twelve years—I see him in the market every day—I never heard of his doing wrong—I do not know about his collecting rents.
Cross-examined by Barrmoits. I do not know Peter.
STANISLAUS JANKOWITZ (Interpreted). I am in partnership with Mr. Joseph—on October 18th I shut up my warehouse between 9 and 10 p.m.—my stock was safe—I went to the warehouse shortly before 10 next morning and missed twenty-two capes from where they had been hanging the previous night—they were worth about £60, the original cost—I saw empty spaces on the shelves, and on making an inventory I missed about twenty suits, some trousers and overcoats worth about £40—I calculate my loss about £100—about 11 a.m. on 19th Barrowitz came to me and said, "You have been robbed last night I"—I said, "I have"—he said, "I can tell you where some of the goods are; if you come quickly you may recover them"—he took me to the prisoner Cohen, a shoemaker—I noticed my goods, and at the same moment the police came—I found eighteen fur capes, four are missing, and fifteen suits—these produced are some of them—a detective brought in three suits—they are my property—they are different qualities—they are all new—they were all safe in the warehouse the night before—I have not recovered all.
Cross-examined by MR. FEITH. I do not know Fox and Co., wholesale furriers in London—I do know Kitchener—they might buy goods cheaper if they were stolen—I give the price the goods cost me to manufacture in my own place—it is impossible to get them at a quarter the price—you cannot buy them cheaper in Germany—I came from Germany this morning, my father was ill—I went to pay him a visit—I only bought some second-hand goods in Germany for our stock and for sale here.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. I mostly saw you dressed as you are—I have seen Peter once on the market with you—he is taller than I am, but looks very bad and lean—he is about as tall as you, but looks pale and lean—he has quite a different look.
5 feet 7 in. not in custody were with it—they were at the rear of the premises from where the property was stolen—Barrowitz pushed the barrow against me, as I was passing—I said, "You are out early this morning," and the man not in custody said, "Yes, we are going to the market"—I then passed on—just before I turned into the buildings where I live I saw the barrow still there—I saw Barrowitz again in Stoney Lane near the gate of the block of dwellings about fifteen minutes afterwards—he had a square-shaped overcoat on—I am sure he is the man I saw—I next saw him in the station when I gave information to Inspector Hook—he was sitting down—he was not then charged—I recognised him as the man I had seen with the barrow.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. I spoke to both men—the other man dropped a cigarette-case—it was a dull morning and a little foggy—I was two yards off when you were pushing the barrow—you were a stranger to me.
ALBERT SHEAD (213 H). About 7.30 on October 19th I was in Goodman's yard, about ten to fifteen yards from Mansell Street—I saw a costerinonger's barrow outside Arbied and Cohen's place shortly before 8—I saw the number on it and know the people who own the barrow—I had seen a bale taken out—I saw a big bag on it and three men with the barrow—Arbied assisted to take the bag from the barrow into 96, Mansell Street—half an hour later I saw the same barrow in Goodman's yard—as the barrow was obstructing the traffic, I went into No. 96 and asked Arbied if that was their barrow in Goodman's yard—he said, "It is not my barrow"—a man came from another room and said, "It is my barrow; I will take it away."
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I was about as far from the three men as I am from the prisoners.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. I never saw you—I could not identify the man who owned the barrow—he was about 5 ft. 6 in. high—I saw no man 6 ft. 1 in.—he wore a brown suit and a cap—I am 5 ft. 101/4 in. high—if a tall man had been there I should have noticed him.
BETSY LYON . I am the wife of David Henry Lyon, of 95, Mansell street, opposite Cohen's—we are general dealers—on October 19th between 12 and 1 Arbied came to the shop with three suits over his arm—he said, "I have half a dozen suits belonging to my father, have you any use for them?"—they were new—I said I did not buy suits when my husband was not at home—his face was towards me and I said, "What is the matter over the way?"as I could see a crowd of people round his door—he took the clothes off his arm and put them on the counter and went out—I gave them up to the police twenty minutes afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have known Cohen thirty years—he was well spoken of—he collected rents for the London and North-Western Railway—he has over his place "Wardrobes brought."
Cross-examined by Mr. PURCELL. Arbied has been a customer—I have known him since he lived opposite—he is a licensed porter at Covent Garden market.
let me in at the back door—he said, "All right, I will undo it"—when it was open he stepped back into the room—he said, "Here the goods are"—I had not spoken—they were lying on the bed—he said, "I bought them and I have got the receipt"—I think he said for £20—he produced this receipt (in German for £15, and signed "Rosenberg, London")—I said, "Who is Rosenberg?"—he said, "I do not know him"—Cohen was there—Cohen said, "They are a job lot, it is as much as they are worth"—Inspector Hook followed me in.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. The goods were in the bedroom—the door had tobenubolted—no complaint was made about my not having a. search warrant.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I was pushing the door and Arbied spoke tome with the door ajar—I believe Arbied said he bought the goods for £20—he did not say "My father-in-law bought them"—the receipt was produced from a drawer in a room on the ground floor where the clothes were—the conversation was conducted by Hook, my superior.
THOMAS HOOK (Inspector City). On October 19th I went to Harrow Alley about 1.30 p.m.—I was examining the lock of a door which appeared to have been pushed open from the shoulder, being very temporary—Barrowitz came in—Jankowitz said, "This man has now found my goods"—I said to Barrowitz, "Tell me how did you trace these goods"—he said, "I got up between 10 and 11 o'clock this morning and went to Aldgate. I met a man I knew. He was better dressed than usual and wearing a mackintosh. I said, 'Halloa, you look all right this morning, what is up?' He said, 'I have sold some goods in Mansell Street, I am going to get £6 for them'—I went to 96, Mansell Street and saw they were Jankowitz's goods. I said to Cohen and Arbied, though he did not mention the names, 'These goods are stolen.' I left a friend to watch the house—afterwards he gave a description of the man he met in Aldgate and I asked about the friend he left to watch—he said he did not know they had gone away—I then went with Jankowitz and Barrowitz to 96, Mansell Street, which is a very large house let out to different families—the prisoner Cohen occupies two rooms on the ground floor—the front room is used by him, apparently as a jobbing shoemaker, and as a. living room, as there was food on the table, and the back room as a bed-room—I saw Arbied in the bed-room and Cohen came in—I saw on the bed eighteen ladies' capes, of which some are here, and twelve suits of men's clothes, all apparently new, some with labels on—Arbied handed me this receipt and said, "My father bought the goods of a man this morning, whom I know by sight, but I do not know where he lives, but I should know him again"—Arbied occupies a room with his wife on the second floor—Cohen said, "Yes; the man said he wanted some money, and I bought the goods. He brought them this morning in a large canvasbag on a barrow"—from something said to me by another officer, I went to 95, Mansell Street, where Mrs. Lyons handed me three suits of clothes, which were lying on her counter and which she said had been left for her husband—her son Henry crossed the road with me—I placed them with other goods, and they were identified by Mr. Jankowitz as a portion of his property—Mrs. Lyon's son pointed out Arbied as the man who had left them at the shop for his father's purchase—Arbied said, "Quite
right"—I said, "All those goods have been stolen this morning from the Harrow Alley; you must consider yourselves in custody"—Cohen and Arbied were taken to Bishopsgate Street Police-station—they were charged with being concerned with others not in custody in breaking and entering the warehouse and stealing the goods and with receiving—Barrowitz was present—Arbied said, "That big fellow is in this job"—I called Barrowitz forward—Arbied said, "He came here this morning, and he said if I gave him £2 he would keep his mouth shut. As I could not give him the £2 he said he would put us away"—Barrowitz said, "You are a b—liar," and was about to strike Arbied, but I interfered—Cohen and Arbied were taken to Bishopsgate Street Police-station—Barrowitz came on and they were charged—in answer to the charge Cohen said, "I paid a man £15 in gold this morning for the goods"—Arbied said, "That big chap wanted £6 for his share," meaning Barrowitz who was in the charge room—at the house after they were arrested Arbied first mentioned £6—Cohen said, "He has got a receipt for £6 (I take it he meant Barrowitz, and that he had to call for £6 on an I.O.U), is not that good enough for him?"—Barrowitz made no reply—when he spoke it was in English—Cohen was excited and kept on talking—the next morning, at the Guildhall Police-court, from what had transpired between Walker and me, and from inquiries, I arrested Barrowitz—I took him to Bishopsgate Street Police-station—he was charged with being concerned with others in breaking and entering these premises—he said, "I have been mistaken for a man named Peter"—Walker was present, and was certain he had made no mistake, and said, "I saw you with the barrow; you very nearly," or "You ran up against me and I spoke to you. The man with you dropped a cigarette case, and I spoke to him, and again I saw you in Stoney Lane by the entrance to the yard that runs between the model dwellings," and that is the way to Mansell Street—I detained him at the station and gave him an opportunity to tell the detectives where to find Peter—he gave two addresses, but we failed to find such a man—(a brown jacket was now produced at Barrowitz's request)—this brown jacket was brought to the station after Barrowitz's arrest by an officer from 5, Albert Street,—no importance was attached to it, and it is too small for Barrowitz who did not ask for it—Barrowitz when I first saw him had the coat on he has now—he gave me a description of Peter, who he said was exactly like him and might easily be mistaken; that he was a big fellow like him, but pale, and more dark round the eyes; but from the woman I inquired of, the supposed Peter is very different to Barrowitz—I took possession of the goods and some are produced here—four capes are missing from the things stolen; eighteen were found at Cohen's address.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Sergeant Crouch did not go with me to Cohen's; he was there—I saw Halford inside on the second floor—what I said before the magistrate is correct—Arbied said that Barrowitz said, "If we could give him £2 he would keep his mouth shut"—I have caused inquiries to be made and find Arbied has been employed at Covent Garden for two years.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz You asked to go and look for Peter, but I declined and sent detectives to make inquiries—you did not say, "Go to 5, Albert Street, knock at the door, pull a string, go to the first floor
and Peter would be down there"—Walker said the man who dropped the cigarette case was wearing a very dark brown reefer jacket—this jacket was shown to you, and you said it was Peter's.
JESSE CROUCH (City Police Sergeant). Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. My statement before the Magistrate is correct—Cohen said, "I bought the goods" and produced this receipt, and Arbied said, "I was present when they were bought"—I have ascertained that Arbied has worked at Covent Garden two years, and before that at the Holborn Restaurant for sixteen years as kitchen porter.
Evidence for Cohen.
ABRAHAM COHEN (the Prisoner, sworn). I lived at 96, Mansell Street, about 16 years—I am a shoemaker and repairer, and a wardrobe and general dealer—I am caretaker of a house and collect rents for the London and North-Western Railway Company—Mr. Walker is the agent, and be is here to give me a character—a young man who brings me trousers or boots he can't pawn, came to me at premises I let, on a Tuesday morning and said, "Cohen, I know of a nice job for you"—I said, "Right. What is it?"—he said, "Some suits of clothes. The man is going to Germany"—the man is named Peter—I said, "I shall go with you"—he said, "No; I shall bring the man here"—an hour after, about 2 or 3 o'clock, the man came, and asked if I would buy a job lot—he said, "I go to Germany to-morrow; I will bring them to you in the morning rather soon. I am going away at 10"—three men came in the morning with the goods, and I saw them—the capes and suits are a little damaged—the capes are worth 10s. or 12s. each—they are German goods—I offered £12, then £13, then £15 for them—Barrowitz was not with the three men; it was Peter—Mr. Friedman came, saw the jackets, and said, "I can buy them for 30s. to 40s. in trade"—I said, "I want £14"—he said, "No"—he offered £8 10s."—I would not take it; I should lose money—then he said, "£13 15s."—I said, "I must try to sell to private people"—but wanted the money quickly back—the man wanted £6—he showed me a receipt for £15—Peter said, "Never mind; I will put the price '£15 paid'"—Barrowitz wanted £2—I said, "I cannot"—he said, "All right, then; I shall show you something"—I said, "Go and do what you like"—an hour afterwards came Moses and half-a-dozen foreigners, and said, "You bought the goods; they are mine"—then came the police and took me into custody—I said, "I bought the goods in trade; if the goods are worth more money I will pay the penalty"—I have a notice outside my shop, "Wardrobes, bought," "General dealer," and "Boot and shoemaker"—the goods were not worth more in trade than I gave for them—I did not know they were stolen or I would have had nothing to do with them—I am seventy-two years of age and for sixty
years I have been known to the estate agent who will give me a character
Cross-examined by Mr. PURCELL. When the three men came with the goods my son-in-law Arbied was in bed—I called him down because I could not see properly which were damaged—he said, "It is a funny time to come and sell clothes"—I explained that they came early because they came the day before—Arbied was in the room when Barrowitz came and asked for the money—I sent Arbied to Mr. Friedman and to Mr. Lyon's place to try to sell them—he has been married to my daughter eight years—he has been working as a porter in Covent Garden, and before that for sixteen years at the Holborn Restaurant—he left to get better wages.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. Peter had come the day before and the day I bought the goods—he is about your size—he wore a brown coat like this and here is his flat cap. (Taking it from the pocket of the coat produced at Barrowitz's request.)
Cross-examined. I do not know where Peter lives—Rosenberg sold me the goods—I had never seen him before, nor the third man—Rosenberg looks respectable and honest—he did not tell me where his shop was—I ask where things come from when I look at them—I call these a job lot—I paid £15 in gold for the goods to Rosenberg—I got £9 from a gentleman who owed me that at Finsbury, and pawned my jewellery for £5—Rosenberg said he could not write English, and I said, "German can always be translated"—he wrote it all—I looked it over, and said, "Where is the price?"—he said, "Give me the pen and wrote £15 paid'"—he wrote that with the same pen and from the same ink bottle—I did not put "£15" to that—nor did Arbied—the three of us were together when we made the bargain—Peter had the receipt, and it was no matter to me so long as I see it was all right—I had not seen Barrowitz before—he brought the goods—he knew where I bought the goods—he said I gave him £2 to square—I said nothing about "square"—I did not know why he should go to Jankowitz or to Joseph—I have bought eighteen capes before and job lots of clothes and overcoats—they are only German made goods—I am a shoemaker, bulb I deal in anything I understand—I understand fur capes—this one is worth 12s. to 14s. in trade—some of these are not worth 10s.—this one is worth 10s.—I would not sell it for 10s. because I should not have a profit on it—these are the three best—this black one is worth what anybody would give for it—I would pay about 10s. to 14s. a piece one with the other—Peter did not live in the house with me, he came as a friend—he lodge in a German lodging house—I should recognise him—I tried to get him here.
Re-examined. From first to last I had no idea they were stolen, I do not buy stolen goods—the price paid was fair in trade—I had no reason to believe Rosenberg and Peter were dishonest—he might be here, but I believe he has gone away.
By the JURY. It is usual to buy goods at 8 a.m. and sell by 11 because I want the money.
being old fashioned—two of them are worth £6 to £7, the others not much—I would not buy them—about ten of them are worth 6s. to 7s. a piece—they may have cost the prosecutor £43 some time back but not at this day.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. Cohen came round for me, and I went to his home and looked at them, but would not buy them.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I cannot tell you the day, but it was between 11 and 11.30 a.m.
SOLOMON JOSEPH (Re-examined). These capes were made in Berlin for stock between April and August of last year, for last winter's season—I brought them with me to London in May last year—they were made up at the lowest rate—they would fetch £43—I should never lose on them—I might on fancy capes.
CYPRIAN ELTHAM WALLER . I live at Harrow—I am agent and collector for the London and North-Western Railway Company—I knew Cohen by letting him rooms many years ago—he has acted as deputy in a large house of about sixteen rooms—I have no reason to suspect his honesty—he bears a good character.
Evidence for Arbief's defence.
BENJAMIN ARBIED (The prisoner, sworn). I live in the same house as my father-in-law, the prisoner Cohen—I am a licensed porter at Covent Garden Market—before that I had been sixteen years at the Holborn Restaurant—I left to get better wages at Covent Garden, with a good character—the day I was arrested my father-in-law called me, and I went downstairs and saw the things in his room—it is a mistake to say I helped to lift the bale off the barrow—when I went down I asked Cohen what he required—he said, "This man has come with clothes"—I said, "It is a very funny time to come"—it was about 7.30 a.m.—he said, "Well, this man name yesterday"—he said he had a shop near King's Cross and wanted to sell the goods—I saw Cohen pay £15 for them—in ordinary course I should be going to my work, but Cohen asked me to help dispose of the goods, and said he would pay me 7s., and I considered it a good day's pay—I fetched Mr. Friedman, who has a big wholesale shop—I have no trade knowledge—I afterwards went to Mrs. Lyons—the police came and a lot of people who spoke Yiddish and German, which I could not understand—I was born in London—I told Hook that Cohen bought them, paid for them, and that was the receipt produced and that I was present when he paid—Barrowitz came about 11.30 or 12, and said, "Did you buy these clothes for this money?"—Cohen said, "Yes"—he said, "My friend sent me for £6"—Cohen said, "Your friend? I paid £15 for the goods, why should I give you £6?"—Barrowitz said, "These things have been stolen"—Cohen said, "I do not deal with thieves; I deal with honest people"—I said to Barrowitz, "You had better clear out of it"—after he went out I said, "This looks like a case of blackmail"—Barrowitz came in again about 12.30, and said to Cohen, "What are you going to do, are you going to pay up?"—I got up, and said, "What should Mr. Cohen give you £2 for? If you don't clear out of I will go and fetch a policeman"—he said, "You cheat, I will show you what I am going to do"—he went away after that threat—I did not tell the inspector, "That big fellow is in the job," but what I said
was "This man must be an accessory to the robbery; he comes to Mr. Cohen to demand £6. If Mr. Cohen had given him £6 he would have said nothing"—Barrowitz said, "You b—liar"—the inspector prevented him striking Cohen—I said I would charge him, because a man who informs the prosecutor must be an accessory to the robbery—I only saw one of the men who came on the second floor—he was a sallow looking man of about 5 ft. 6 in.—I have seen Peter—he wore this brown coat and a cap.
Cross-examined by Barrowitz. I did not go from the house after you went in—I did not fetch in a man with a light Trilby hat—I went to Whitechapel.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I go out very early to Covent Garden—I am in the Floral Hall, and we make up samples at night—I do not know how the clothes came—I did not see the barrow till the constable asked if it belonged to me—I swear I did not go out and carry a bag in—I have known Cohen buy job lots of 20 to 30 suits and ladies' dresses—I thought this was a peculiar transaction—I saw Cohen pay the £15 in gold—he got it from a purse from his pocket—it was all the money he had, to my knowledge—I did not hear the bargaining as to the price—I saw Rosenberg write the receipt out—he said he could not write English; he would write it in German—Peter never lived in that house, to my knowledge, nor during the time I have been living there—my impression was the goods were not honestly got, but that Barrowitz had come to frighten Cohen—I did not use the word "job," nor say "He has put us away"—I said "This man must be an accessory in this job or else he would not be able to inform the police or the prosecutor where the goods had come from"—I was simply employed by Mr. Cohen as a servant, and did my duty—I generally get to my work about 8.30 or 9 a.m. to get booked on—I am a licensed fruit porter—I don't go before 8 because I am in the Floral Hall—I earn 9d. an hour or 8s. 3d. away—I consider 7s. as good as 8s. when I have not my expenses and ray dinner.
Cross-examined by Barrouoitz. You first asked for £6 and then £2.
Re-examined. I had never seen Barrowitz before—my father-in-law bore a good character—I am living under the London and North-Western Railway Company.
Evidence for Barrowitz's defence.
CHARLES BARROWITZ (The prisoner, sworn). On this Tuesday night I went to bed at 12 p.m.—on the Wednesday, about 10 a.m., someone knocked at the door and a woman who lives in the house brought him up—I said, "Who is there?"—he said, "I am Peter"—I said, "What do you want?" He said, "I want to speak to you"—I opened the door—he said, "Charley, do me a favour"—he presented a pawn ticket for £2 and said, "You pass by Mansell Street"—I went to 96, Mansell Street and in Cable Street I saw a fellow and said, "What is the matter? you, are not well this morning?"—he said, "We have done a job"—they did not know I knew Jankowitz—I had known him nine months—I said, "Where have you done the job?"—he said, "Down there"—I said "Peter sent me for the money"—he said, "Come inside," and I went in and saw Cohen and Arbied sitting in a room—that fellow produced a paper and said, "I want £6"—Cohen said, "I cannot get you £6 now; I
have to settle first; I have to go to the bank; you come back next week"—as soon as I heard that I said to Cohen and Arbied, "Do you know these things are stolen?"—Cohen said, "I do not care, I deal with honest men"—so I called on Jankowitz, and said he could fetch his things, and if he got me £7 he could have his goods back—I watched, and then, thinking the fellow would remove them, I told him to watch while I went to Jankowitz—Cohen said, "I have got a bill down here"—we went to the Minories and gave notice that the things were there—the inspector said he had nothing to do with it: we should go to Bishopsgate Police Station—we passed Jankowitz's shop, and saw Inspector Hook—he took us to the place, and took the things in a cab to the station—Hook said, "I want you"—I came in, and Cohen said I asked for £2 to keep my mouth shut—I never did—just now he said I asked for £6—I stood outside for an hour or two hours—I said I would fetch a policeman—he said I went away; if so, how could I know that fellow went to the shop?—another man with a Trilby hat fetched him—if I wanted blackmail why did he not fetch a policeman?
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I know Polly Stella—I lived with her at 5, Albert Street, Shadwell—she was with me on the night of the burglary—I was in bed with her between 10 and 11 Wednesday morning—I do not know that she solicited men—she does knitting—Peter slept in the same room from Wednesday till the Thursday—a ponce is a person who lives on a woman—I only left my employment fourteen days before I was charged—I worked for the "Life and Labour Saving in Scaffolding Company," 21, Finsbury Pavement—Mr. Siemens is the manager—I got 7 1/2d. per hour—I was there one year and fourteen days—the day I was arrested I arranged to go to Mr. Louper, 23, Cannon Place to make his shop open—it is No. 9—I paid Stella so much a week and she earns money by knitting.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I go to work at 5 o'clock, but this morning I was to go to 83, Bishopsgate Street, and waited to be called a little after 10, but the detectives came and I told them, "I have not much time as I have to do a job to-day"—that was before 12—I gave Peter back the pawn ticket the same Wednesday evening—Peter led me into all this trouble—I did not know then he was concerned—when I knew he was the man, I sent the detectives to get him—I tried to find him many a time—at that time Peter was living in my house—the detectives found Peter's coat in my room—the three lived in that room one night—I was charged with stealing on Tuesday afternoon—I went out on bail on Saturday—I did not know where Peter went to—I went to many places to look for him—the detectives did not do what I told them, and Peter was down below—I heard he went away without a jacket—Lima told me the goods were stolen from Joseph and Jankowitz—he lives at a restaurant in Whitechapel—I have not seen him since this charge was made—I have tried to find him, and I offered 10s. to find him—I did not ask for £6; I came in with the other fellow—Cohen said, "I gave £6, if he gives me another pound he can have the goods back.
he is a head shorter than you—this is Peter's jacket, he has trousers and waistcoat similar—I never saw you with another kind of jacket to that you have on—I have known you three years—Peter has two jackets like this: one is a little darker.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I have lived with Barrowitz for about two years—he is a carpenter—he has been manager for Mr. Siemens in the West End—he is never out of work, because he deals in socks and stockings, and different things, like haberdashery.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. On the Wednesday night Peter slept on the sofa couch—I have never seen him in any other suit—I heard he bought a reefer jacket and a soft felt hat—Peter left in his shirt-sleeves, and nothing on his head, when the police came—the only similarity between Peter and Barrowitz is that Peter wears his hair the same, and many people have taken him for his brother—it is impossible for Barrowitz to have got up and come back to bed on Wednesday, October 19th; the landlady knows who goes in and out; we have no keys.
BERTHA WEIMER (Interpreted). I saw you in bed about, 12 o'clock on the Tuesday night—I call you at 4 or 4.30 a.m. to go to work at 5 a.m.—this is Peter's coat—I have never seen you in other clothes—on Wednesday I got up and made some coffee at 7 a.m., and went upstairs at 7.30 to take coffee; I knocked, but getting no answer went in and found him and a woman in bed fast asleep.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I did not tell the Magistrate I saw him at 7.30, because I had no interpreter and I did not understand the question.
OLIVER SMITH (Interpreted). On Saturday I met Charley—he said, "Have you seen Peter?"—I said, "Why?"—he said, "I want to give him in custody, because I was taken instead of the other man"—I said that I saw him on October 19th in St. George's without a jacket, in his shirt sleeves, and slippers, and without a cap; and that he said, "Have you seen Charley?"that I said, "No. I have not seen him"; that he said, "Will you have a drink?"and that he was shaking, trembling.
Barrowitz, in his defence, said that he went to Jankowitz's shop in the afternoon to tell him where his goods were, but he was not there on the morning of the robbery.
—BARROWITZ then PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in July, 1895.— Three Years' Penal Servitude . COHEN.— Six Months' Hard Labour, in consideration of his age and good character . ARBIED received a good character. Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Judgment respited.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, November 26th, 1898.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. RANDOLPH Prosecuted and MR. GILL Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
Upon the prisoner being called upon to plead, MR. ABINGER, on his behalf, moved to quash the indictment, on the ground that the Commissioner before whom the affidavit was sworn had power to administer an oath in England only, and not in an American suit, and contended that the indictment was bad upon the fact of it. MR. CLARKE, for the Prosecution, submitted that even if this were so, the prisoner would not be relieved of the intention to defraud a Court of Justice, whether the affidavit was used or not. (Cases referred to, "Reg v. Stone," Yearsley; Crown Cases, page 251; "Reg. v. Hodgkin," Crown Cases Reserved, page 212; and "Reg. v. Verrett," 3 Campbell, page 432.) THE RECORDER considered that Mr. Abinger's point was a good one, and therefore quashed the indictment.
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, November 26th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. EVANS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SCARLETT . I am a conductor employed by the General Omnibus Company—on Tuesday, November 15th, about 8.30 p.m. the prisoner got into my omnibus at Liverpool Street—I suspected and watched her—she paid a 1d. fare to London Bridge Station—she sat on the near side next to a young lady—I was in a position to watch her as well as to do my duty—the young lady got off at the Bank or Lombard Street—the prosecutrix got in—the prisoner changed to the off side and sat next the prosecutrix—when we arrived at the station in King William Street the prisoner asked to alight and the omnibus stopped to pick up some people—no one alighted except the prisoner—there were four people inside besides the prosecutrix—I spoke to the prosecutrix, in consequence of which we both got off—I hailed a policeman and in the presence of the prisoner I said "I have suspected this woman and I have been watching her. This lady has lost a purse; she was sitting next to her"—the prisoner mumbled something, I cannot say what—the policeman asked if the prosecutrix would charge her—she replied "I am only the wife of a working man, I shall have to leave and I cannot charge her"—I said, "Come along if you cannot. Get in the 'bus"—it was five yards off—some one called out "Here's your purse"—I gave my number to the police constable and went on my journey.
Cross-examined by Prisoner. You did not say London Bridge station—you have ridden in my 'bus previously—I spoke to you before the policeman came.
SARAH SAYER . I am the wife of Alfred Sayer, of 37, St. Margaret's Court, Borough—I got into the 'bus near the Bank of England—the prisoner was close on my right—my purse was in my pocket near the prisoner—it contained 1s. 7d.—the 'bus stopped at the station and the prisoner got out—I am positive no one else got out—in consequence of what the conductor said I put my hand in my pocket and found my purse
was gone—I got out and made my way towards the prisoner behind the conductor—I asked her if she had got my purse—I think he called a policeman—I refused to charge the prisoner at first—the purse was picked up, then I charged her—a tall young woman said, "Is this your purse?" and handed it to me—I am positive I had had it in my pocket—I called the prisoner a wicked old woman and she called me a low woman—I said, "I am a respectable working man's wife," and that she ought to be ashamed of herself and thinking of her grave instead of picking working men's wives' pockets.
Cross-examined. I was unwilling to lock you up because of your age, and I did not think you capable of such an action—I asked you if you were willing to be searched—you walked on about five yards.
CHARLOTTE REED . I live at 24, Fern Street, Bow—on November 15th, about 8.40, I was on foot near the King William Statue—I saw a crowd and a woman following another accusing her of stealing her purse—I picked up the purse a few yards from where the prisoner had moved—I held it in my hand—I called out to the prosecutrix, "Here's your purse."
ADA WALLIS . I live at 48, Northumberland Street, Poplar—on November 15th, I was near the King William Statue about 8.30 p.m. with a friend—I got into a crowd and saw a lady accusing the prisoner of stealing her purse—I trod on it, and said to my friend, "Here it is"—she picked it up, and passed it to the prosecutrix—it was lying about two yards from the prisoner.
Cross-examined. I work at a confectioner's—I left work about 8.20—I had come over London Bridge, and was going home towards Fenchurch Street—I work in the Marshalsea Road.
GEORGE SULLIVAN (552 City). On October 15th I was near the King William Statue about 8.45—I was called by the conductor, who said the prisoner was sitting near the prosecutrix, who said she had lost her purse—I asked the prosecutrix if she had seen the prisoner's hand near her pocket—she said, No"—I asked the conductor the same question, and he said "No," but he had seen her act in a suspicious manner—there was a crowd—I asked the prosecutrix if she would give her into custody—she said, "No" she was not sure she had her purse—Reed held the purse up, and said, "Here's your purse"—then the prosecutrix said, "I will give her into custody"—I took her into custody—she made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. The prosecutrix, you, and the conductor were together when I came up.
Re-examined. This is the purse—it contained 1s. 7d. and two common keys.
The Prisoner, in her defence, said she took the omnibus for the Monument, but as it did not stop there, she got out midway between the Monument and the station, when a policeman touched tier on the shoulder, and the prosecutrix said, "have lost my purse, have you got it?" That she replied," 7 have not got if," and the policeman said, "Will you clearage her?" She said "No" That she was asked if she was witting to be searched, and said "Certainly," and held her pocket open for the prosecutrix to put her hand in; that the policeman said something she did not hear, being deaf, and
after the purse was picked up the prosecutrix said she would charge her: but she had never moved from the spot.
—she then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on April 21st 1897, at the North London Sessions in the name of Jane Atkins. Other similar convictions were proved against her in various names.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. WHITE Prosecuted.
ALFRED HARRISON . I am warehouseman to Messrs. Greening and Son, of 3, Maiden Lane, metal merchants—on Saturday, November 5th, about 11.30 a.m., on going to the warehouse I noticed on the floor 4 or 5 pieces of copper wire, and that the racks were empty and a roll of brass was standing on the bench—I am the only one who cuts it up, and the place had been cleared up that week—I had seen the prisoner in Maiden Lane all the morning—when I went downstairs he looked at me and went into a court—I went back and took my cap and apron off, put my hat and coat on, and watched him for about an hour—he went up the stairs, followed by a boy—another man keeps the top floor—he said, "My good man, what do you want up here?"—the prisoner said, "Got any shavings?"—I dodged in the warehouse behind the door, where the things had been missing; the prisoner looked in and went straight down the staircase—I did not know him—he walked along the lane, and I followed him in Thames Street to the corner of Maiden Lane, where he had a barrow—he looked up and again went up the staircase—I gave him plenty of time—I watched in Queen Street at the corner of Maiden Lane, where the barrow was—when I went up again he had got the roll 4 feet from the door on his shoulder—I closed the door, and said, "I wondered who you were; I will go and fetch a policeman"—I sent for a policeman—he ran upstairs, and the police officer arrested him coming down—I had met him with this roll of wire on his shoulder—it weighs about 1 cwt. and is 22 inches wide.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You took it off the bench about 3 ft. or 4 ft., and was carrying it off—afterwards I turned the key, but you would never have been out of the warehouse if I had turned it before.
Re-examined. I sent a clerk for a policeman—he was arrested within a few minutes—when I first missed the wire it had been taken out of the rack, ready to be carried off.
ALBERT BARNARD CROWDER . I am agent for Messrs. Greening and Sons, 3, Maiden Lane—the prisoner had no right in the warehouse; he was not employed there—he never had been—the value of the wire was £7 or £8 in trade.
WILLIAM HARRIS (606 City). I was called to these premises—I took the prisoner into custody on the stairs—he said, "I do not know what this man is thinking about; he must be mad," referring to Harrison—I told him he would have to go to the station with me—he was charged at the station.
Cross-examined. When coming down the stairs you had nothing upon you—the wire was lying on the bench when I arrested you—it was
brought to the station on your barrow, which was outside, at the corner of the street.
Evidence for the Defence.
THOMAS BLACKWELL (The prisoner sworn.) I was in Thomas Street looking for waste paper—I was stopped by a in an I have known three or four years, who asked me if I bought old metal—I said I did not, but promised. I would look at some when I had finished my waste-paperwork, and I met him afterwards in the Crown and Sugarloaf public house—he wanted 3(1/2)d. for 9lb.—I said I could not buy it but would take it to a man who would—I am not guilty of stealing this roll—I never touched a thing—I never so much as placed a finger on any article—I went to the top floor to a man I have dealt with for years to get waste paper—I am a waste paper dealer—this man I met brought a sample of copper wire and placed it on a barrow—as I was going towards the New Cut I showed him the place where he would most likely dispose of it; a Mr. Cole who bought stuff—he promised to meet me again the same evening and I went at 4 p.m., when the man brought four more rolls out of this stuff and came with me to my own shop—he received the money and gave me 11s. for my trouble—I sold the lot to Cole—there are two charges—I appreciate I am on oath—I am not guilty of this charge—why did not the witness charge me at once?—my barrow was not outside; it was in another part of the street.
Cross-examined. I was convicted in November, 1876, at Middlesex Sessions for wounding a horse, and sentenced to seven years' penal servitude; in January, 1883, at Middlesex Sessions, for stealing a clock, and sentenced to eighteen months' hard labour; at the same sessions in August, 1886, of fraud, and sentenced to ten calendar months; at this Court in July, 1887, of stealing a clock and sentenced to eighteen calendar months; at the North London Sessions in November, 1896, of stealing a mail cart and sentenced to six calendar months; at the South London Sessions in June, 1897, of stealing lead, and sentenced to nine calendar months; at Clerkenwell, in June last, of theft and sentenced to three calendar months; and twice as a rogue and vagabond.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at St. Mary, Newington, on June 9th, 1897.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
36. HENRI DEVILLE (31) , Stealing a certificate for 2,800 francs of the Russian South-Eastern Railway, four notes of the National Bank of France, payment of 500 francs and 5 pieces of paper belonging to Joseph Mathieu. Second Count.—Stealing £107 8s. belonging to the same person.
MR. O'CONNOR Prosecuted and MR. CHADDERTON Defended.
(The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.)
JOSEPH MATHIEU (Interpreted). I am 25 years of age—I came from Metz—I arrived in London on September 22nd at 5.40 a.m. at Victoria Railway Station—I tried to get a situation, and in case of failing I intended to return to Germany—I am an hotel porter—after going about the streets I met a man, not the prisoner, who asked me something in English—I replied in French that I did not know English—I made the acquaintance of two Frenchmen—they led me into a workshop, to see
whether anyone was required—that was the day I arrived—I first saw the prisoner about 7 the same evening, when these men conducted me to an office where the prisoner was writing—a third man dictated to the prisoner an agreement with me for a situation—I then handed over to the chief of this office the certificate of the Russian railway shares, value 2,000 marks of 2,500 francs, as security for moneys I might have to collect in this situation of steward, which I was to have on a steamer—I was to superintend everything and to have the key of cellar—then the head clerk sent the prisoner to ask the master whether that would be sufficient security—the prisoner went out and after a short while returned and said it was not sufficient—I then handed him four 100-franc banknotes—then he sent the prisoner again to inquire whether that would be enough—he came back and said, "Yes"—then I signed an agreement—there was an agreement first made out, but they asked me to sign another—then the three Frenchmen, the accused, and I went to supper the prisoner slept in the same bed that night in a room the two Frenchmen I had first met had taken for me—the next morning the head clerk handed us each 5s. for the expenses of the day—the next few days the prisoner and I walked about London—the head clerk had given the prisoner a slip of paper, upon which I supposed he had some commission—I remained in the same room four days, but the accused remained on after I had left—then the men took another room for me at another house—the first house was 65, Cumberland Street, and the second at 8, Colchester Street—the prisoner had seen the information about me in the office, and I had shown his what money I had still left—I had the receipts from the bank with me, of the money I deposited at the bank at Thionville, which is thirty kilometers from Metz—the prisoner told me have my money sent over here—he said I could be in a position to buy tobacco in Belgium and to resell it here much dearer, as he, the prisoner, had already in this way gained 7,000 francs—I said, "No," I would not have my money come very here, and I would not meddle with smuggling—the next Sunday the manager of the office, in the prisoner's presence, said to me in German that as I knew German as well I should have a better situation, where I could earn more, but that I should have to give double security, not less than 6,000 francs, as purser on the steamship "Aurania," of the Conrad Line—I agreed to the suggestion—then the manager told me I must let my money come over here, and instructed the prisoner and another man to go with me to find out how the money could be remitted—the next day the prisoner, I, and another man went at the Credit Lyonnais where one of the employes said, in the prisoner's presence, he was not sure whether the money could he had over here—the prisoner suggested that a telegram should be sent, and ultimately 2,290 marks were remitted, which allowing for the difference in exchange, is about £108—it was in two receipts—I signed this paper—(An authority to Henry Glenard to cash the remainder of the wilness's deposit at Thionville)—we sent a telegram, and a reply came that I should have to write first—then the prisoner dictated a letter which I wrote at once—after getting the money I went back to my room and the manager, the prisoner, and another man attended—we entered into this
contract—(Dated 22nd December, 1898, for service as purser on the s.s. "Aurania" at £20 a month with first-class accommodation and privileges on the witness depositing 6,000 francs as a guarantee, upon which interest was to be paid every six months at three percent, per annum.)—the man gave me a letter to the captain of the ship—there were three envelopes containing the agreement for the general manager of the company and these two American notes (Repudiated Confederate Staffs notes dated September 2nd, 1861, for $50, and October 13th, 1862, for $100.)—and this print (A copy of the Act to amend the Vagrancy Act.)—I had parted with 5,590 francs up to this time on the faith of getting the appointment—the prisoner then came into the room, and we all had supper together—I had only 3s. 6d. left and that they took from me—they took me in a cab into a French restaurant, where I saw all the men, the prisoner, and another Frenchman I have not seen before—I have since passed the restaurant with the police—after we left the restaurant we took a cab and went to Waterloo Station, and from there we went to Southampton the same evening—there the accused engaged a room at the Alliance Hotel—the next day we went for a walk by the sea where we met a Frenchman and an Italian—the prisoner then told me to return to the hotel, as he had business to transact with them which did not concern me—the prisoner went with the two others, and I returned to the hotel—it was 11 o'clock, and I remained till 3 p.m., when the three returned with another Frenchman whom I had seen at the restaurant—the prisoner said the Frenchman and the Italian were to go to New York as well as I, and that they would fetch me the next day, but he and the Frenchman were to return to London—they went to London, and the prisoner paid for my supper and my room for the night—I waited for the two gentlemen, but they never came till 10; they had promised to come at 7—they said the steamer would not leave that day, but would leave the day after—I wanted to remain in the same room, but the hotel proprietor would not allow me, and I went to the Hotel Continental and remained—the other two did not come—then I wanted to cash these two notes (The worthless American greenbacks.)—ad I had no more money left, but they wanted to put me in prison—then I borrowed a sovereign of the landlord, leaving my hand-bag, returned to London, and went to the police—I went back to the same room—I called at the Credit Lyonnais to ascertain whether the balance had already been cashed and told them everything—I got some of it—I next saw the prisoner after he had been arrested on October 14th.
Cross-examined. I met the prisoner alone—the manager gave me the introduction to the office—they addressed the head' clerk as Gustave—he was in a public-house where I had to meet the manager at 6 o'clock, but the head clerk came—in the office first the head clerk wanted fifty francs for himself—I met the head clerk at the public-house and then returned to the office where the agreement was signed—there were three in the office—when I got there first only the prisoner was there—I was not employed in the office as a clerk with the prisoner—they gave me 5s. by an engagement which the prisoner wrote—the prisoner was present when I signed the agreement—I do not know whether he wrote it—I only had 5s. one day—by the first engagement the prisoner should have come with
me on the first steamer—he said he was some sort of clerk, not to go to America but to ply between here and Belgium—I did not give any of the bonds to the prisoner, but he was present—the first was for the head clerk and the second for Mr. Bernard—it was Messrs. Bernard who promised this engagement and who received the money—the prisoner suggested my becoming a pirate—I was familiar with him then—at Southampton I was to hand him my watch as the manager wanted it regulated—I did not give it to him—when I slept with the prisoner my little trunk was at the station—from the first evening I handed over what money I had to the office—I bad my watch with me—only the manager was there when the documents were handed over, but the prisoner arrived in a cab—all the time I was there I never suspected the prisoner.
GEORGE GAUTSCHI . I am a clerk at the Credit Lyonnais, Lombard Street—the first interview with the prosecutor and the prisoner was on September 26th—another man showed me two deposit receipts at the bank at Chauvin, and asked me whether we would collect them—they were for 1,000 and 1,290 marks respectively—I was not sure, as they were not then due, but they said they would send a telegram to the banker at Chauvin to know whether he would pay them at once, so I drew up a wire, and they said they would send it—in the evening or early the next day they came back with a wire from the bank at Chauvin to say they would consent to those deposits being paid—I identified Mathieu as the lawful holder of the receipts and was satisfied, and claimed one sovereign for expenses, and we sent the receipts to Chauvin—on October 8th we had a wire from our correspondent abroad that they had been paid—the prisoner came with Mathieu, and I think another one, but as we had no final statement and there was interest, I only paid 2,200 marks, that is, in English,£107 8s. 4d., to Mathieu, who came nearly every day and enquired—Mathieu said he would not be able to call for the balance and that the prisoner would call, so I drew up this procreation for Mathieu to sign, authorising the prisoner to call for the balance—on Wednesday, October 13th, Mathieu came before business hours, about 9.45 a.m.—a conversation took place, and I paid him the balance,£5 18s. 6d.—an hour afterwards the prisoner came and claimed the balance—I recognised him, and told him to wait, as we were looking after his affair, and tried to telephone to Scotland Yard, but could get no communication—after half an hour, as we could not keep him waiting longer without reason, I told the prisoner that the affair was not quite settled yet and that he should call in the afternoon—as soon as he was gone I went with one of the assistant-managers to the Old Jewry and communicated the circumstances, with the result that two detectives watched our place—the prisoner did not come till Saturday, when the detectives were drawn off-when he came I sent to the Old Jewry, and on instructions from the officers, let the prisoner go, and he went out—I told him that Mathieu had been in, and he could not believe it—I showed him the receipt Mathieu had given—I heard afterwards the prisoner had been arrested in the street.
any knowledge of Deville, Bernard, and Gaston—in September their steamer "Aurania" was in Liverpool, undergoing repairs.
JAMES MURPHY (City Detective). In consequent of proceedings which took place prior to October 15th, I was in Lombard Street on duty, and at 12.30 I saw the prisoner leave the Credit Lyonnais Bunk—he walked into Gracechurch Street and hailed a cab—at the same moment he turned round and ran into my arms—I said, "What is the matter?"—he shook his head—I took him to 26, Old Jewry, the Detective Office—I there searched him and found this Confederate State 10-dollar note, similar to those produced, they are worthless; a bill of the Alliance Hotel, Southampton, for 15s. 6d., with no date, and these four indecent photographs—he was subsequently charged with this charge, and said, I admit going to Southampton with Mathieu, I had none of the money"—he gave me a wrong address.
Cross-examined. He speaks English with a foreign accent, and his late landlady says he can tell lies in English—he spoke broken English—I did not say much, it was not my case.
FREDERICK HOLME (Detective Inspector). I saw the prisoner at the Detective Office in the Old Jewry on October 15th about 4 p.m.—I said, "Is your name Glenard?"—he said "No"—I said, "What is it?"—he said, "My name is Henry Deville; shall I write it down?"—I said, "Yes, you can write anything down"—he wrote a long statement in French—after that I questioned him about Bernard, Gaston, and other men—he said he knew nothing about where they lived, but it was somewhere near Victoria, and asked if I would take him there—of course I declined—all of a sudden he said, "I decline to say any more"—it was all in English—I do not know French—I know the prisoner slept with the prosecutor at 65, Cumberland Street, for about a week, at a lodging-house which is not of good repute—the office the prosecutor referred to was at 16, Denbigh Place—the prosecutor cannot identify it—the place is kept by Thorn, Gaston, and Bernard, and is let out in tenements—it is a private house—they have only one room—I am afraid it is not respectable—I do not know the restaurant, but the first night they took him about in a cab in the dark, and he could not identify the place—the American note is dated February, 1864—they are perfectly useless.
Evidence for the Defence.
HENRI DEVILLE (The prisoner, sworn). I came to London from France six months ago to learn English—my mother sent me money Mr. Bernard offered me employment—I was taken to a public-house near Victoria Station when Mr. Bernard said we must be friends, and asked we if I worked there—I said, "No, at present I have no work"—then he said, "Why have you come over here?"—I told him I had come here the second time—the first time was July last year—I thought I should acquire the English language quicker than actually was the case—he asked if I would like an engagement on board a steamer—I said, "It is all the same to me on land or on board so long as I can learn English, because I receive a remittance from home, and money is not exactly an object; as regards giving you money at present I could not do so, but I will as soon as I receive remittances"—I then signed a paper acknowledging that I was of age and bound myself to give him £1, and at twenty-two years of age I should pay him 3,500
francs as an acknowledgement for the situation he would obtain for me now—I was taken to an office where I was paid every day 5s.—he told me not to spend too much money—one evening Gaston and I believe Glenard and another came to the office with the prosecutor; then he chided me for not having done sufficient writing and said I should remain till 9 o'clock to finish the work—I had finished writing, but he dictated to me a contract by which he promised to secure a situation on Mathieu paying 2,900 francs—he sent me with a share certificate to see Mr. Bernard who was in another office 500 yards distant to ascertain if it would be sufficient—Bernard said it was not enough—then Mathieu handed over 400 francs more and again 500 francs were received by Bernard—then Bernard said that would be enough—Mathieu had these receipts on the bank at Thionville, but Gaston said they were no good; he would have nothing to do with them—then we all went out to dine, Gaston, Bernard, and two friends I do not know—after that we went to a public house where Gaston told me I should have to remain with Mathieu to prevent him wasting his money, especially with women—I remained in his company for about three days—I was paid 5s. a day and 'bus fares, and a few commissions I had to do—it in not true that Mathieu's box was at the station—leaving the restaurant Bernard told me I should have to accompany the prosecutor to Southampton with a friend, and I was to see about a situation and see directors in Paris which would cause expenses, and he asked 600 francs—I would not give him that, but I gave him 150 francs, and he gave me the receipts of the Credit Lyonnais, saying I should go and cash that money—Bernard told me to cash it—I was a clerk with Mathieu and nothing else, and was paid as such—I have never had a single penny of these bonds.
Cross-examined. I received the first 6s. the first time I met Bernard, thirty-five or forty days ago, and three times I was paid in front of Mathieu the prosecutor—since my arrest I have met Englishmen in Old Compton Street who had seen and been with Bernard—on October 14th or 15th, lie said he would go to Paris in my interest—I have never seen a paper like this before (The Vagrancy Amendment Act)—after my return from Southampton I never met any of the men—I expected Bernard on the Sunday and was arrested on the Saturday—I make copies the same as Mathieu did for some days—I was in Bernard and Co.'s employment about forty days before I knew Mathieu and for about a fortnight after—before that I copied and took photographs—the photographs found on me were handed to me to reproduce by a Frenchman who lives behind the Empire Theatre—I first came to London twenty months ago—I was a waiter at the Princes Restaurant, Piccadilly—I was never employed in the neighbourhood of Charlotte Street, nor lived there—Bernard gave me the American note the day I took train to Southampton—he made a collection of them the same as postage stamps—as curiosities.
Re-examined. I gave every information I had in order to have Bernard arrested.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with a conviction of felony at Clerknwell on September 7th, 1897, in the name of Henry Charles Deville.
of stealing a silver cigarette case from a fallow lodger—he Pleaded Guilty and was put back till September 27th—he was then bound over in £10 to leave the country—I next saw him in custody on this charge.
GUILTY—** Three Years Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 28th, 1898.
For cases tried this day see Surrey cases
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 28th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. HARVEY Prosecuted.
GERTRUDE BARDSLEY . I am single and keep a boarding-house at 66, Gower Street—on Monday, October 31st, about 11.15 p.m. I went to bed in the basement, which communicates with a corridor, and then with the area—I was awakened by a noise outside my door—I listened, looked through the window, and saw two men at the top of the area steps and heard talking in the basement—I went out and shut the area door, and locked it and removed the key—I heard a noise and called out, "Who is there?"—the prisoner ran downstairs from the hall with a silk hat belonging to my brother, which had been hanging in the hall—I screamed out and some ladies came—the prisoner struck me, and I was very much bruised—he struggled with me, and then said he would tight no more—I opened the door to a policeman—the prisoner must have got in at the area door—I know it was shut, but it is possible that the servants may have omitted to lock it—the area gate was not locked—when I called out, "Who is there?"he tried to get out at the front door—the handle was off the door.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I stated at the police-court that I got my hurts by falling down—we fell with such violence against my bed-room door that it was broken off the hinges.
THOMAS SAWYER (Police Sergeant, 11 D). On October 31st I was on duty in Gower Street—I heard cries of "Police" at No. 66—I went to the door—the prosecutrix opened it and I found the prisoner detained by her—she charged him with stealing this silk hat—lie said, "I don't know how I got in, I was drunk"—he was perfectly sober—the prosecutrix's face was red and swollen next morning, and she complained of other injuries from the prisoner's violence.
(The Prisoner in his defence, stated that he was drunk; that he went into the house but had no intention of committing felony; that he became sober three hours afterwards, and that the struggle with the prosecutrix was sufficient to sober any man; that the hat was found upon the floor because the knocked it down in the dark.)
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on February 1st, 1898—Seven other convictions were proved against him, for one of which he was sentenced to Five Years Penal Servitude— Seven Years Penal Servitude. The Court commended the prosecutrix for her "exemplary courage."
MR. ROBINSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SPECKEHLER . I am a labourer of 62, Stamford Road, East Ham—on Monday, October 24th, about 5.20, I was in Cable Street—I was not sober and I took more drink after that—I do not recollect what happened to me—I had about 2s.—I had received a half-crown from my benefit society—when I came to myself my trousers' pocket was torn and I had only 7(1/2)d.—I was not at work that day—I had been drinking from 9.30 till the time of the occurrence and found myself in Leman Street Station—I was charged before the Magistrate with being drunk, and was let off—and then I charged the prisoner.
GEORGE JOHN BROOKS . I am a furriers, of 15, Prince's Square, St. George's in the East—on October 24th, about 5.20, I saw the prisoner coming up Prince's Square and saw two men coming round the corner towards mo—the first man was the prosecutor and the second the prisoner—the prisoner struck the prosecutor, who was drunk, and knocked him down—he fell straight against the side of a house insensible, and the prisoner said, "Won't you pay me," and put his hand into the prosecutor's pocket and then in his coat and took out a pipe and some matches—he said, "I don't want them"—he ran off—I followed him and saw a policeman in plain clothes whom I knew and pointed the prisoner out to him—he ran away but a man took him and brought him back—the prosecutor was in a dazed condition—I said to the constable, "He has got money in his right-hand trousers' pocket"—he said, "What money I have there, 3s. 8d., belongs me"—the constable said, How much have you got?"—he said, "3s. 8d."—he was taken to the station, where I saw he had 5s. 3(1/2)d.—there was a half-crown among it—the prosecutor's trousers were torn.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do night work—there were no people round when you struck him, but while you were taking his money they congregated—I saw the whole affair, but I did not stop you, because I thought I might not be able to manage you—you were arrested at the corner of North-East Passage, fifty or sixty yards from where you struck the man—you were making off—you rushed into a public-house when you saw me talking to the policeman.
GEORGE TUTTY (227 H). On October 24th, about 5.30, Brooks pointed out the prisoner—I ran after him, and passed another constable, and told him—I took the prisoner—he said, "What have you got me for?"—I said, "For robbing a man"—I took him back—Brooks said he was robbed by a man—I said, "What money have you?"—he said, "3s. 6d."—I found on him a half-crown, three shillings, sixpence, and some bronze, an empty purse in his trousers' pocket, three pawn-tickets, and three keys—when he was charged he said, "The money is what I earned on Saturday, 14s. 8d."—I arrested him in the Blue Anchor public-house, about 100 yards from where I found the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. I did not assault you—you ran into a public-house
and I and another witness fetched you out—I did not strike you a blow—I simply took hold of you in the ordinary way to take you in custody—you ran into the public-house and fell down on the floor.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that the prosecutor asked him to direct him to Leman Street Station, that he said he was going that way, and they went into a public-house, that the policeman seized him, and asked what money he had, and he said 3s. 8d.; that the prosecutor fell, and in attempting to get up, fall again with his hands in his pockets, and so tore his own trousers.
GUILTY —Five convictions were proved against him, three of which were for assaults and one for stabbing a female.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour . THE RECORDE. ordered a reward of 30s. to be paid to Brooks.
MR. OLIVER Prosecuted.
JULIUS LEGRAND . I am a waiter, of 8. Boniface Street, Westminster Bridge Road—on October 31st I was near Spitalfields Church—I met a woman—the prisoner came up and asked me if I wanted a bedroom—I said, "Yes"—he said he would go and see his friend and get the key—he returned without the key and some other men surrounded me and took my gold watch and chain and £2 10s. and some coppers, and ran off—I called "Police"—a policeman came up, and then the prisoner came up—I said, "This is one of them"—he said he was not there—when I got up I could not see the woman—the place was lighted—the prisoner was in front of me when he took my watch and chain—I saw him three times—I pointed him out a quarter of an-hour afterwards.
WALTER GUMBLETON (430 H). On October 31st I was on duty at a little after 2 o'clock—I heard shouts of "Police," and saw the prosecutor standing at the corner of Palmerston Court—he made a complaint—lie was sober—I walked round with him and in about a quarter of an hour we saw the prisoner—the prosecutor said, "Here is the man coming who took my watch and chain," and gave him in custody—the prisoner said, "I know nothing about it; I have just come out to get some sausages and broad"—he had 6d. in coppers in his hand—this was 10 or 12 yards from the spot—there is enough light there for one man to identify another.
WILLIAM KITSON (386 H). I have known the prisoner twelve months—on October 31st I was on duty near Paternoster Row and saw the prisoner—that was about 30 yards from where the robbery took place—men are in the habit of standing there and letting beds to men and women, instead of letting them go to lodging-houses—the prosecutor came to mo and I went with him to Dorset Street and met the prisoner, and before we got nearer to him than 20 yards the prosecutor said, "That is one of them"—the prisoner said he was going to get some German sausages; and there was a shop open there.
Cross-examined. McCarthy lets beds there and you used to work for him.
Witness for the Defence.
MRS. SMITH. The prisoner is my son—he lives with me at 3, Dorset
Street—on this night I went to bed and fell asleep—I cannot tell what time he went out—I could not understand what was read over to me before the Magistrate.
The Prisoner's Defence: "I went up the street to my brother-in-law and met the prosecutor, and he saw, "That is the man who took my watch and chain."
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Worship Street on February 8th, 1898, and another conviction was proved against him.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HUNT Prosecuted.
THOMAS SERGEANT HARDING . I am 65 years old and a tailor's assistant, of 59, Morton Road, Ellington—an Saturday night, November 12th, about 8.30, I was coming down Hackney Road, and was struck by someone, I cannot say who, and knock down and my parcel taken from me, containing 10 shirts, 19 collars, and 6 pocket-handkerchiefs belonging to my employer Harry Pelican—I saw a man with the parcel and went after him—the prisoner caught me by my arm, and said, "What is it? He has gone down by the bridge"—I followed, but could not see the man with the parcel—I turned round, and said to the prisoner, "I will go with you"—I spoke to a policeman, and said, "This man stopped me and prevented me getting my parcel"—the prisoner said, "I admit putting my hand on his shoulder and pushing him back"—he said it was an accident, but it was done on purpose—I gave him in custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisons. You must have seen me knocked down—I did not walk right into you, you put your hands on my shoulders and shoved me, and when you got opposite the tailor's shop you went and spoke to Mr. Burr, the tailor.
DAVID SALES (197 H). On November 12th, at 9 p.m., I met the prosecutor—I went through Hoxton Street with him—we met the prisoner, and he said, "That is the man who stole in bundle"—the prisoner said, "I was just leaving my own house, he ran against me accidentally"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined. What you staid was, "I had just come out of the house"—I understood you to mean your house, which is close by, but there is a public-house there.
The Prisoner's Defence: I came out and saw the prosecutor coming along, I just put my hand on his shoulder, and he said, "Which way have they run?"I said, "Down there," and went on. I met him later on, and he gave in me in If I had been convene in the robbery, do you think I should have remained there? I am highly respected in the neighbourhood.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY. to the former conviction, and other convictions were proved against him— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MACMAHON Prosecuted.
THOMAS RICHARDS . I was the captain of the British ship "England's Hero," belonging to Hull—the prisoner was the mate—on October 27th I was in a cafe close to the harbor with a man named Kent, and the prisoner said if I did not pay him he would rob me—I went on board again and about midnight I was in bed with £100 in gold and 3s. or 4s. in English bronze in my pocket—the prisoner came and assaulted me and took the money—I was injured and could not see with my right eye—I went on shore and came back with a policeman, but the prisoner was not on board.
LUTHER KENT . I was sent out to Emden to take charge of this ship in consequence of the captain's drunken habits—on October 27th I was in the cabin with the prisoner and Richards—Scott did not ask him for anything, but he said to me that if the captain did not pay him he would pay himself—I did not ascertain whether wages were due to him—he was not entitled to anything till he got to the port of discharge, as he was on foreign articles and it is contrary to the Board of Trade regulations—I saw him next morning, and he said "I went for the old man last night"—I then went on board and saw Richards with his eye bunged up—the vessel was in a foreign port in the Canal—I think it is all fresh water there—there were only small ships there—this ship is only eighty-three tons, but there are a lot larger—I do not think it is tidal water—you have to go through a lock, but large vessels do go through.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am aware that you had been to the British Consul about the captain when you met me—I asked you to take a drink, and we had two drinks, and you told me what the Consul told you to do—the captain came in, and I wished you good-night at 9.10.
By the COURT. He told me he had been endeavouring to get an advance of money from the captain—I did not point out to him that he was under foreign articles.
CHARLES CROCKETT . I am an able seaman on board this vessel—on October 27th we were in Emden Harbour—I do not know whether Scott asked the captain for any money at any time—next morning I went to the captain's cabin—he said, "Send me some whisky," and told me he had been knocked about by the mate—I met Scott on deck, but made no remark to him—after we left Emden, Scott told me that he had bought some clothes, and blankets and tobacco.
Cross-examined. You told me that some time before we got to Emden.
ALBERT HELDEN (Thames Police Constable). I was called to the station, and saw the prosecutor who produced this official document, and I accompanied him on board the England's Hero, and took the prisoner in custody—I told him the charge—he said, "I know nothing about the money the captain says he has lose; he was drunk the whole voyage; I know nothing about it; I can answer for everything"—the charge was read over to him, and he said, "That is false"—no gold was found on him.
LUTHER KENT (Re-examined.) Emden is on the River When, which is a tidal river—the port is two miles from the liver—there are bridges above but only on the side—the Canal runs inland—the sea water runs into the
Canal when the tide is high—the Canal opens into the river by means of locks—when the tide is low the gates have to be shut.
The Prisoner. His eyes were always bad; he was always washing them with lotion.
LUTHER KENT (Re-examined.) It is a tidal river and goes 20 miles inland beyond the Canal, which is artificial, and out into the land, so as to join the tidal river—it is fed by the fresh water inland—there are gates at the river, and only there—when the tide has reached a certain level the gates are shut and the vessel unloads—they are open about an hour and a half each tide, and then vessels come in and go out.
Prisoner's Defence: The captain was kicking up a row. I went to bed and heard no more till midnight, when he came reeling down the ladder, with blood all over his face, and there he lay, and I never saw, him till next morning, when he sent for me and told the men what I had been doing."
NOT GUILTY .
RICHARD MARSHALL . I am a decorator, of 11, Liverpool Street, King's Cross—on November 11th, about 12.45 a.m., I was in Seymour Street, Euston Square—we had driven there—I saw that Mr. Cline was being Stopped by somebody, and directly I asked what was the matter I received a blow on my eye from Gowlett—I had a black eye for a fort-night—Hasledine snatched at my watch, but the bow broke and the watch remained in my pocket—I saw them attack Mr. Cline—they never got away till I gave Gowlett in charge.
Cross-examined by Gowlett. I charged you with assault, and Hasledine with robbery.
Cross-examined by Hasledine. When we got out of the cab we were three minutes in company before this happened—I charged you with attempted robbery, and Gowlett with violence.
MARTIN CLINE . I live at 28, Seymour Street—early on the morning of November 11th I was in Seymour Street—I came out of the Horse Shoe and saw Gowlett, whom I have known six or seven years—he wanted something—Mr. Marshall came up and said, "What do you want?" and Gowlett gave him a punch on his eye, and then hit me and knocked me down, and when I got up I saw him in custody, and saw Marshall's chain hanging down.
Cross-examined by Gowlett. He did not come and interfere before you struck him; you struck him first, he did not hit you first.
JOHN RYAN . I am a licensed victualler, of 25, Seymour Street—on November 11th about 12.45 I was with the two last witnesses—we pulled up our cab in Seymour Street; the prisoners had evidently followed the cab—they came up and asked Cline how he was getting on—he said that—they would not get anything out of him—the prosecutor came up and asked what was the matter—Gowlett struck him and Hasledine struck Cline—I did not see anything about the watch—they ran away.
I was on duty in Seymour Street, and Marshall gave Gowlett in custody for striking him, and said, "That man" Hasledine "has stolen my watch"—I saw his chain hanging down—I took Gowlett to the station.
Gowlett's Defence. I own I went and spoke to Mr. Cline; when I am short I generally borrow money of him. I know nothing of the robbery.
Hasledine's Defence. There was a fight; and half an hour afterwards he said, "You have stolen my watch;" instead of losing his watch he now says that he lost the top of his watch. The watch was not like this at the Police-court.
J. LAXTON (Re-examined.) The chain and the ring are exactly the same as they were at the Police-court.
—HASLEDINE then PLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction at Marylebone on September 14th, 1897, and three other convictions were proved against him.— Twenty Months' Hard Labour . GOWLETT†.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 29th, 1898.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GOODWIN Prosecuted, and MR. SILLS Defended.
MOSES MESSIAS . I am a baker—on November 14th I was going along Simmons Lane with my barrow, and some man called after me, and I went over to him and asked what he meant—he spoke in English—I saw him distinctly; it was the prisoner—he gave me a blow on my chest and I gave him one back, and he stabbed me in my left arm with a knife—I went to the station and was attended by a doctor.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was selling hot chestnuts—I did not see see him slitting them with a knife—I did not interfere with him—I did not take a chestnut off his barrow as I passed—I did not black his eye—I did not go and hit him again, and he did not put up his arm to ward off the blow—the knife did not catch me like that; he stabbed me—I have never seen him before.
FRANCIS GRAPEL , F.B.C.S. and A.R.C.P. I was called to Leman Street Police-station on November 14th to examine and dress a wound in the prosecutor's forearm—it was 3/4 in. deep and 1/2 in. long—it was inflicted by a knife—he was very excited; he collapsed—it has healed now—the scar is still there—he was sent to the hospital—a small artery was severed—the small blade of this knife (produced) would cause it—a good deal of force must have been used.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor must have had his arm across himself, and I fail to see how by simply guarding off a blow he could have been stabbed—it was not a dangerous wound—I saw the prisoner at the station; I took no notice of him—I did not see if he had a black eye.
HARRY WELCH (302 H). I told the prisoner I should take him in custody—he said, "All right"—he had only a knife on him—I took it from him—on the way to the station he said, "I done it with the little one."
Cross-examined. I do not know him; he had no blow near his eye.
Evidence for the Defence.
NATAL ZEMENTS (the Prisoner) sworn. I live at 155, Simmons Lane, and I sell chestnuts—I was slitting chestnuts with a knife by my barrow—the prosecutor came along; he used to pass every morning, and steal my chestnuts—on this morning he passed about 9 o'clock—a young man who was also pashing called me "silly"—I was talking to him, and the prosecutor no doubt thought we were talking about him—he passed about 10 yards, when he turned round and called me some names—the other man went away and the prosecutor struck me twice, and as he was about to strike me a third time I lifted my hand to ward off the blow, and that is how he got the wound.
Cross-examined. I had spoken to the prosecutor nearly every morning—he never paid for the chestnuts he took; I could not talk English to the police, or I should have had him arrested.
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding under provocation. — One Month's Hard Labour.
MR. SILLS Prosecuted.
GEORGE CYRUS OFFEN . I live at 363, Seven Sisters Road, South Tottenham, and am an engineer, and sometimes hire out bicycles—on September 19th my son called me into the shop, and the prisoner, who was there, said, "I want you to let me have a bicycle; you let my brother, W. Harris, have one"—I had only my own bicycle then—I thought him respectable—he gave the name of A. Harris, 8, Albert Road, South Tottenham—he wanted it for about two hours, to go to High Cross and Finsbury Park on—I have a customer named W. Harris—he took the bicycle away—I valued it at £10—he paid me 2s. for the hire—on November 16th I was called to the Dalston Police-court and picked the prisoner out from eight other men—he is the man who had my bicycle—he was charged, and he said, "I know nothing about it"—I recognised his voice—I have no doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said at the station I thought you were the man; now I swear you are.
ERNEST OFFEN . I am the son of the last witness and live with him—I was in the shop when the prisoner came in—he said, "Do you let out bicycles for hire?"—I said, "No, we don't—thinking he was respectable I told my father—I saw him for about ten minutes—I next saw him at the South London Police-court on November 16th, and identified him—I am sure he is the man—I heard him say in the shop that he had a brother.
Witness for the Defence.
MINNIE ROBINSON . I live at 76, Devonshire Road, Hackney—on September 19th I was with the prisoner at 10.30 at Southend—he is a friend of mine—I was in his company for about three days—he is a friend of mine—I was staying down there with a gentleman and we took three rooms—the prisoner was to come down on the 19th, and about 10 o'clock we went out to see if he had arrived—he did not leave Southend until the Wednesday.
Cross-examined. I am sure Minnie Robinson is my name, I am a divorced woman—I was Mrs. Hewitt three years ago—I said at the Police-court that the prisoner came down by the first train—I do not know if the 10 o'clock train is the first train—I have known the prisoner about three months—I was lately living at 1, Fairview Road, Stamford Hill—I do not know that that is a well-known brothel—I do not know if I am interested in it—I do not know a man named Stevens or West—I have lived at Stamford Hill with a man—I do not know a man named Holmes—I know one named Rome—I was not living with a man under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Hewitt a fortnight ago—I am not a common prostitute—none of my friends have been convicted of stealing bicycles.
Prisoner's Defence. I have never been near the shop. I have never seen the prosecutor before. I went down to Southend until the Wednesday.
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on November 9th, 1896, and another conviction was proved against him.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. There were two other similar indictments against the prisoner.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FRANK RIVETT . I am an undertaker and timber merchant, of Strutford Bridge—on November 29th, about eleven o'clock, I put a black leather bag on my office table—it contained a screw-driver, about two dozen coffin nails, and several covers, two gimlets, a banker's pass-book, and thirty or forty returned cheques, which had been cashed—I was in and out of the office during the day, and did not miss the bag till nine o'clock next morning—all these cheques are mine, and so are these things for putting over screw-heads—I have never seen the bag since—my office is about four minutes' walk from Stratford Market.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The cheques bear my signature—these screw covers are for coffins, and cannot be obtained in any shop.
JOSEPH A. LOW . I am a coal-porter, of 40, Francis Street, Victoria Dock Road—on November 29th, about 6.30, I was in the Essex beer-house—the prisoner walked in and said, "I want to cash a cheque"—the barmaid said, "Father is engaged"—he then came towards me, and said, "I want some money to-night; I have got £2 or £3"—I said, "If it is a good one, and all right, I might oblige you; I live at the Mechanics' Arms, down the road"—we went to McNally's office, and I said, "This man wants this cheque changed"—he said, "It is wrong"—the prisoner said, "That is all right, you will get it in the morning, I will give you a sovereign for your trouble"—McNally said, "You are either a fraud or a rogue, fetch a policeman."
Cross-examined. I cannot read writing, if I had understood it, you would have got no further.
has a cheque for £5 something, and he will give anyone £1 to cash it for him"—the prisoner handed me this cheque—I noticed that the signature was struck out, and told him he was either a fool or a fraud, and that I should send for a constable—he attempted to get out; I prevented him, and he hit me a blow under my ear—I gave him in custody.
WILLIAM PONSFORD (653 K). On November 10th, about 6.40, I was called to the Mechanics' Arms, and Mr. McNally said, "This man has come and asked for change for a cheque for £5 6s."—I said, "What is your name?"—the prisoner said "My name is on the cheque"—I said, "What is your name?"—he said, "James"—I said that he would have to go to the station—he said that he would break my nose—I took him to the station and found on him thirty-five cancelled cheques, some coffin nails and other articles identified by the prosecutor, and a pair of sugar tongs which are not identified—he said that he got into the company of other men who gave them to him and handed this paper to the Magistrate—(This stated that he was drunk, and that some men in a public-house gave him the things and told him to change one of the cheques.)
Cross-examined. You struggled very violently, and it was very difficult to get you to the station.
F. RIVETT (Re-examined). The office leads from the shop, and the shop is sometimes left unoccupied for a short time—anybody seeing that nobody is in the shop goes to the office, but an electric bell rings when the door opens—the bell rang about 3.30 or 4 p.m., and a man who was in the back, making coffins, went into the office but found nobody.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that he got the articles found on him from a man in a public-house and that he never went into any private house and knew nothing about thieving.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. IRON Prosecuted.
EMILY READ . I am the wife of Charles Read, and live at 81, M Street, Canning Town—I am a member of the sect called the Peculiar People—I assist members of that body in their confinements—I was present at the birth of the deceased child—it was a full time child and well grown—it was not healthy; it had a nasty bad cough, and it never got rid of it—it had nothing else serious the matter with it till September—I went to see the child on Tuesday, September 20th—I was called in—it vomited very much, and could not retain its food—it also had diarrhoea—I saw it nearly every day after that—it got better; we gave it arrowroot, and it appeared to suit it—the diarrhea continued until about a
fortnight before it died—it never disappeared entirely—we gave it milk, prepared barley, corn-flour, and brand—I saw the defendant every night; he was in the room with the child—no doctor was called in; we fully trust in the Lord—we don't give any drugs; we believe brandy to be a nourishment—we think our own skill is sufficient to judge what is good for it—we should not think it wrong if it were a cold night to give an extra blanket; we give every comfort—we don't believe drugs would do any good; we go according to the Word of God—we believe doctors are very good for those who cannot put their trust in God—we acknowledge the Divine religion of the Scriptures generally, also the Epistle of St. James, the laying of hands on the sick—the Lord is the doctor of the soul—on October 23rd the child got so much worse that Mrs. Senior and I sat up all night—Mr. Senior was in the room—during the night it was sometimes better and sometimes worse—Mr. Southgate, an elder, was called in on Sunday night about 10 o'clock because of the change for the worse—he is a labourer and one of our elders—he laid hands on the child and anointed it with oil, and prayed for it in the name of the Lord—on the Sunday night the child appeared to be taken for death—no doctor was called in at any time—the child died about 3.30 on October 26th.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have known you for some years and I have always known you to be kind to your children—from my knowledge and experience I think you gave your child everything that was reasonable apart from drugs—it was treated as I should treat my own.
FRANCIS WILLIAM HOLTON . I live at 200, Barking Road and am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—on October 27th I made a post-mortem examination on the body of this child—I was helped in it by my assistant—the child was eight months old—there was no sign of disease on it apart from what it died of—it was not a robust child, but it appeared healthy—the normal weight of a child of this age is about 16 lbs.—this child weighed a little over 7 lbs.—the death was caused by inflammation of the lungs—there were signs of chronic inflammation of the intestines—it would possibly be brought on by diarrhoea neglected—if a child was suffering from diarrhoea on September 20th, and still had it three weeks later, it would cause it to be very weak: it would tend to produce pneumonia—most forms of diarrhoea yield to treatment—arrowroot and barley are good as far as they go, but it was not sufficient—if I had been called in on September 20th I think very probably the child would not have had pneumonia, and its life might have been prolonged—to the best of my belief, if it had not had pneumonia it would not have died—the contents of the stomach showed that it had not been able to digest the food it had had—diarrhoea yields to treatment—if I had been called in early in September pneumonia might have been prevented—there are certain regular modes of treatment which might have prolonged life.
Cross-examined. I found the child very emaciated; that was due to the disease—in making the average weight of children, I take a child born healthy—there is a recognised standard—I think this child was a fairly healthy one when born, as far as I can say—in my examination I found the Jung's diseased, the base of the liver was congested, the muscles of the heart were soft, the intestines blown out with gas, there was inflammation in the upper part of the smaller intestines and the upper half
of the larger intestines—the child died from double pneumonia—about half per cent, of children recover from pneumonia—I said I found what appeared like biscuit in the child—I do not know that all the food it had had had been strained—I thought your case exceptional, losing seven children out of twelve—I have known cases like yours medically treated—I remember you asked me before about a person in the neighbourhood who had lost twelve out of thirteen children—medically treated—the death-rate in our borough is between 16 and 19 per 1000—that includes everybody.
Re-examined. I believe that I could have saved the child's life if I had been called in in time.
YITENDRA CHANDRA BHUTTACHABJI . I live at 97, Victoria Dock Road—I am an L.R.C.P. and assistant to Dr. Holton—I assisted him in making his post-mortem examination—I have heard his evidence, and I agree with him—if I had been called in in time I believe the child's life Would have been saved, certainly prolonged.
Cross-examined. The diarrhoea was only treated in your own manner—I should have prescribed prepared chalk—I do not know anything about the death—there might be a diversity of opinion among medical men as to the diet.
Re-examined. The diet ought to have been changed and an ordinary diarrhoea mixture ought to have been administered.
JOHN BENTON . I live at 7, Oriental Road, Silvertown—I have known Senior for many years—on November 8th, 1897, he came into my employment as a carpenter and has worked for me ever since—he received £1 17s. a week.
Cross-examined. You have always conducted yourself as a servant ought to—when I first knew you you had an accumulation on the left side of your neck—you have told me how God delivered you from it.
GEORGE MERISU (Inspector). On October 27th I arrested the prisoner—I saw him at the inquest at Plaistow—I said, "Senior, you know I am a police-officer; you will now be taken to Plaistow Station and charged with the manslaughter of your son, Tansley"—he said, "What I have done is upon principle"—I took him to the station and. he was formally charged—he made no reply.
Cross-examined. With the exception of these cases, you have never given any trouble—I have nothing against your character in the slightest.
The prisoner was not examined as a witness; he merely said that in what he did he acted upon principle, and trusted in the Lord.
In this case a difficulty suggested itself arising from the repeal of the Act of 1868, which in enumerating the duties of a parent, included that of providing medical aid in sickness; that Act was repealed by the 52 Vic.; c. 44, which omitted the duty of procuring medical aid. MR. BIRON submitted that the Act of 1894 might be relied on as sufficient provision for that omission, by enacting that the neglect of any statutory duty would be sufficient without alleging that of medical aid. MR. JUSTICE WILLS was of opinion, that if the conduct of the defendant amounted to "wilful neglect of the child so as seriously to injure its health," he was guilty of an offence under the Act for the Better Protection of Children, and if that neglect caused the death of the child he would be guilty of manslaughter. He said there
could be no doubt that what the prisoner did in withholding medical aid and medicine was deliberately, and, therefore, wilfully done. It was for them to say whether such conduct, though done from a motive which is not impugned, amounted to neglect of the child so as seriously to injure its health. Neglect, he said, is not a word of art. It is an ordinary word of the English language, and he could give them no further direction as to what its meaning is in the statute. In order to come to the conclusion that there had been neglect they must be of opinion that medical aid and medicine were reasonably necessary for the child's preservation, and within the prisoner's means.
GUILTY.—The JURY added, "We consider that medical aid was necessary for the child."
The Prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on October 25th, 1897, of manslaughter of another child under the like circumstances.— Judgment referred.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MEDCALF Prosecuted.
JOHN CURRIE WYLIE I live at 7, Leas Road, Custom House, and am a clerk at the Docks—on October 21st I was in Connaught Road about 11.30 or 12p.m, going home—I had a parcel of clothing under my arm—a I passed the coffee stall at the corner of Prince Regent Lane and North Road I saw a number of men—I was seized from behind and thrown to the ground in Connaught Street—I saw the three prisoners distinctly, there was a lamp there, it was not a dark night—they kicked me on my face and body and took my parcel and cleared out—my right cheek was swollen and both my eyes were blackened—I was also bruised down my left side—I could not eat any solid food for five days—I am almost well now—I did not know then which of them took my parcel, I was dazed—I went straight home—I was just able to get there—it was only about five minutes' walk away—a policeman called at my lodgings next morning about 7.30; I was in bed—in consequence I went to the Lansdowne Road Police-station, where I saw my parcel—afterwards I went to the West Ham Police-court where I saw Potter among a number of other men, I recognised him at once—I saw Thornton at 9 o'clock on October 29th, at the Lansdowne Road Police-station, he was among a number of other men—I saw Bray on the 28th at the same place; I also picked him out.
Cross-examined by BRAY. I am certain I saw you there.
Cross-examined by THORNTON.—Three men rushed out at me from the direction of Connaught Lane—I do not remember seeing a policeman there—I had no chance to offer any resistance on account of your great heavy feet—you were the third man to attack me, and as far as I am aware the fourth man did nothing.
ROBERT FRISBY (378 K) I am stationed at Canning Town—on October 21st, at 11.30 p.m., I was on fixed point duty at Prince Regent Line—I could see the coffee stall, there was a number of men there—I can identify Thornton; I knew him before—
I walked to the top of Victoria Dock Road in the direction of the stall, the men began to clear away—I then saw the prosecutor; he was alone—he had a bundle under his arm—as he passed the stall Thornton said, "Good night, chaps"—he struck a light and followed the prosecutor down the road about 10 yards behind him—I watched I him and then I went into Leas Road, where I saw Potter come rushing through an entrance into Leas Road, with a parcel under his arm—I ran after him—he went through Baxter Road and across some fields, where I fell into a ditch, and into Prince Regent Lane—he threw the parcel away, and I picked it up, and ran after him again across another ditch and afterwards caught him—he said, "All right, governor; I will give in"—I took him to the station—at the station he said, "I caw some men scuffling in the alley and I picked up the parcel and ran away with it"—I did not see Bray that night—next morning Potter was identified by Wylie at the Police-court—he subsequently identified Thornton—he had no difficulty in doing it—on the 26th Wylie's face was all swollen up, both his eyes and the side of his jaw were black, and he complained of being kicked about his body—he was apparently in a very bad condition.
Cross-examined by Potter. I never saw you with these men—I have seen you before—I have not made any inquiries about you.
Cross-examined by Thornton. I was at the coffee-stall about three or four minutes—no one went alter the prosecutor except you.
EGERTON PRATT (8 KR). On October 21st I was on duty at the Victoria Dock Road at 11.20—I saw Thornton and Bray at the corner of Conley Road, three or four minutes' walk from Prince Regent Lane—they left together, and went in the direction of the Lane.
Cross-examined by Potter. I know the two men—I do not know you—I have never seen you in bad company—I did not see you on this night.
Cross-examined by Bray. You were the man who assaulted him—I did not take a man named Kensler into custody for being with Thornton—he was taken into custody, but he cleared himself—it was nothing to do with me.
Cross-examined by Thornton. I passed you about 11.20, and in less than, two minutes you and the other man went down Connaught Road.
FRANCIS CRONK (573 K). On October 28th I was with a constable named Waller in plain clothes, and saw Thornton in the Red Lion public-house—I said to him, "I am going to take you into custody on suspicion, for being concerned with Potter and Bray in committing a highway robbery"—he said, "Yes; who is Potter?"—he was taken to the station, and afterwards identified by the prosecutor—he was then taken to the Police-court and charged, in reply to which he said "I know nothing about the charge."
Cross-examined by THORNTON. The men you were placed among were not old enough to be your grandfather—the prosecutor could not see you through a large window in the station—I said you could stand where you liked—the prosecutor walked up to you and touched you—I did not tell him anything.
WILLIAM WALLER (218 K). At 7 o'clock on October 27th I was in the Dover Road in plain clothes—I say Bray in the Dover Road Railway Station—I said I should take him into custody for being under suspicion
of being concerned in a highway robbery—he said, "I know nothing whatever of it on my oath"—then tried to get away—I took him to the station—at West Ham the next morning he was placed with seven other men and identified by the prosecutor—he had no hesitation.
Cross-examined.—You made a run and tried to getaway.
Potter, in his defence, stated that he had been doing night work at the Gasworks and was coming home, when he saw two men struggling, and saw a parcel on the ground, which he picked up and ran away with; and that he had never been in the other men's company before.—Bray, in his defence, said that he went home between 7 and 8 and did not go out any more till next morning—Thornton said that he was talking to some men by the coffee stall and lit a cigarette, when a man came along, when the others began laughing; that he said, "Good-night" and went home, and went to work again on Monday; and that he never saw Potter before.
—Thornton then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on March 27th, 1894. A conviction was proved against Bray, and both prisoners were stated to be the associates of thieves. Potter received a good character.
THORNTON— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
BRAY— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
POTTER— Six Months' Hard Labour, and each to receive twelve strokes with the cat.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SILLS Prosecuted.
GEORGE DENDLE . I am a printer, of Hampton Wick—on October 22nd, between 1 and 2 a.m., I was in Deptford Broadway—I stopped at a coffee stall—I saw five men there—the three prisoners were among them—I called for a cup of coffee and one of the men said to me, "We are hard up and on the road; would you kindly give us something to eat?"—I did so—it amounted to 5d. I gave the old coffee-stall keeper 6d. and he gave me 1d. back—Keefe then said to me, "There is a nice little girl across the other side of the street"—I said, "No, I don't want anything"—he said, "Come along"—I said, "All right," and I went across the street—Keefe said, "Come along this way"—we went about fifty yards when the other two prisoners came up and said, "What about the girl"—I said, "What girl? I know nothing about a girl"—Keefe said "These are two unfortunate fellows from America; they are very hard up, if you give them a dollar I will too"—I said, "No, I will not," upon which one of them struck me on my eye—it completely blocked my eye up—they all struck me, one of them hitting me on the cheekbone
which I can feel now—I fell to the ground, and was covered with mud—they went through my pockets, stealing about 15s. and a key—they then kicked me and ran away—I got up and shouted for the police—a policeman came up and I went with him to the station—on the way I saw Keefe and gave him in charge—I had no difficulty in recognizing him—I was afterwards called to the station and identified Cain from among several other men—afterwards I identified Sheehan.
Cross-examined by Keefe. I am sure I was treating you at the coffee-stall.
Cross-examined by Cain. I went to the stall by myself—I was there when you came—I don't know who it was who asked me for some coffee—when I left with Keefe we went over opposite—we did not find any woman over there—after you had all run away I went back to the coffee-stall and asked the old man Clarke if he could recognise the men who had just left—he said he could—I did not say at the station that I was drunk—I was perfectly sober—I had had some drink.
By the COURT. I lost my situation—I went to see my employer, and he said, "We cannot have you like that"—my face was knocked about.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. We did not go up a passage—you knocked me down underneath a lamp opposite the coffee-stall.
WILLIAM LATHAM (167 R). On October 22nd I saw the prosecutor in High Street, Deptford, just before 2 a.m.—he had a black eye, and his coat and trousers were covered with mud—I then saw Keefe, and the prosecutor pointed him out and I arrested him and charged him with robbing the prosecutor—he said, "I am innocent"—he was searched and 1s. 6d. in silver and 3d. in bronze was found on him.
Cross-examined by Keefe. Before the Magistrate I did not say you had 9 1/2d. on you.
ROBERT CLARKE . I keep a coffee-stall in Deptford Broadway—on October 22nd, between I and 2 a.m., Cain and Sheehan came to my stall—the prosecutor came and bought four cups of coffee—Keefe was not there—I know him—I did not see the prosecutor go away—Keefe came to the stall after the prosecutor had been knocked down—he was there by himself.
Cross-examined by Cain. You came by yourself—Sheehan and another man were there; the prosecutor was not there then—you came about 1.30, and the prosecutor about 1.40—I did not hear anybody say anything to the prosecutor about a woman—I did not see any of you leave and go over opposite—the prosecutor came while you were there, and asked four of you to have a cup of coffee—you had some tea, and you brought out a bottle and put some spirits into it—the prosecutor was rather the worse for drink—about twenty minutes after you had all gone the prosecutor came and said, "Do you know the men I treated?"—I said "Yes"—he said, "They have robbed me of 16s."—he had a black eye, and was very much knocked about.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. You came about four minutes before Cain—you took a cup of coffee from the prosecutor and drank it—I did not say at the Police-court that the prosecutor did not come back to my stall.
By the COURT. The other man who was standing there did not resemble Keefe.
WILLIAM CHERRIXGTON (573 R). On October 22nd, about 2.30, I was on duty in Norwood Road, and saw Keefe and Sheehan, and two other men—later on I received some information and arrested Cain and charged him—he made no reply—at the station the prosecutor identified him from eight or nine other men.
Cross-examined by Cain. A constable gave me the information about you
ALFIRED VANSTONE (Sergeant, R). I arrested Sheehan on October 22nd in High Street, Deptford—I told him he was suspected of being concerned with two other men of robbing a man of 15d. on the same morning"—he said, "I have just asked a constable what Cain was pinched for"—I said I should take him to the station, and he was charged—he said, "What is Cain pinched for?"—I said it was on the same charge—he said, "I admit being with Cain, but I know nothing at all about it"—he was identified by the prosecutor.
Cross-examined by Sheehan. You were talking to a constable when I arrested you.
Witness for Keefe.
MRS. KEEFK. At 10.55 Keefe went to bed and came to my room about 12.55, and asked me for some money to go to market with—I said it was not time; I gave him 1s. 9d., and he went out.
Keefe, in his defence, said that when he went to the coffee stall he did not see Cain or Sheehan, or the prosecutor. Cain said that he stayed there about ten minutes; that he went and left by himself; and that he slept at a coffee-shop in Evelyn Street. Sheehan said that he went to the stall by himself, and that if he was guilty he would not have stood talking to a constable till he was arrested.
KEEFE— NOT GUILTY .
CAIN— GUILTY .
SHEEHAN— GUILTY .
Sheehan then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on February 26th, 1898, and Cain to one on January 13th, 1896,— Six Years' Penal Servitude each.
KEEFE PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SILLS Prosecuted.
FREDERICK TREW . I am an assistant to John Allen, a ham and beef dealer, of 183, New Cross Road—on October 18th I missed a lamp value 30s. from the stable—I had seen it about half an hour before—I next saw the lamp in Kardle Street on a barrow belonging to the prisoner and another man—I know the prisoner before—I saw a constable and the men were arrested—I took the barrow and lamp back to the stables.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am quite sure I saw you with the lamp—you were not locked up till five days afterwards because the constable let you go—I did not follow the constable when he took you—you were afterwards arrested—the barrow was returned to the man who let it out; there was only a piece of iron on it.
By the COURT. Four days previously Rossiter came in and inquired what I wanted for the lamp—I said it was not for sale—I knew him quite well.
out the prisoners to mo—I saw them in a public-house—I told them to come out, and I told them they would have to come to the station—they said they knew nothing about it—I looked for the prosecutor—he had gone, and I let them go—they were afterwards rearreted.
Witness for the Defence.
By the COURT. I did not give a description of the other man—I did not know his name—I have been convicted before a good many times.
Rossiter's defence. I am perfectly innocent and I do not know Keefe; I have never been in his company before.
ROSSITER— GUILTY .
—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on February 25th, 1897, and four other convictions were proved against him.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
KEEFE then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on April 19th, 1894, and numerous other convictions were proved against him— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
HARRY IVES . I live at Gravotte's Lane, Worplesbon, near Guildford—I am a labourer—on October 26th I went from Guildford to Staines to inquire for work—I obtained work at Staines on the reservoir—I saw a man named Tripp and arranged to lodge with him—I stopped at Staines that night and went to Staines Junction and took my ticket to Guildford about 6 p.m., and then went for a drink with Tripp, my landlord—I took the 7.5 train from Staines High Street—the prisoner only was in the third-class carriage—I did not know him—he said, "Where are you bound for, mate?"—I said, "Guildford"—I was sober—I stood with my head resting on my hand, looking out of the window—the train was started then—I felt myself held by my throat and thrown on the floor, and the neckerchief I was wearing was pulled tightly round my throat and I was suffocated—I lost consciousness—the train could not have got out of the station—I had my ticket and between 25s. and 26s. in the inside left pocket of my waistcoat—there were two half-sovereigns, some silver and bronze—I had changed a sovereign in Guildford—when I recovered consciousness I was on the Chertsey platform on a barrow—I searched my pocket, but my ticket and money were gone—I made a complaint to the station-master and officials at the station—afterwards I was taken by the station-master and P.C. Granger to Virginia Water Station the same evening, about 8—I saw the prisoner on the platform with Mr. Smith, the station-master—I identified him as the man who assaulted me in the train, and the constable asked me if I would charge him, which I did—I said, "That is the man"—the prisoner laughed and said he never saw me before—I said, "You are the man that tried to strangle me in the train"—I said his was a similar ticket to that I bought—this is the handkerchief
I was wearing—it has been cut—it was tied in a slip knot—when I recovered consciousness it had been cut off
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had no loose silver in my pocket at Guildford, I had a sovereign and a half-sovereign—I did my work at Guildford in the summer of 1892 for Mr. Conway.
WILLIAM TEIPP . I live at Edgelull Road, Staines—I am a carman—I saw the prosecutor on October 26th, about 1.15 p.m., when he engaged to lodge with me—I saw him again about 6 p.m. at the railway station at Staines Junction—I went to him to inquire the time of the train for High Street, Guildford—I directed him to High Street; the other station at Staines.
JAMES JOHN RICHARDSON . I am a relief clerk at Waterloo—on October 26th I was at Staines Junction station as booking clerk from I till 10.30, or later—I produce the book showing the tickets issued in Staines that day to Guildford—I made the entries the next day—the ticket produced, No. 3,772, was the only one—it is third-class—I also produce the book from the station in the High Street—I remember issuing the ticket to the prosecutor—three or four days afterwards I saw him on the platform, and thought he was the man the row was about—to the best of my belief I issued the ticket to the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. I do not remember you asking how long you would have to wait for a train; nor telling you you would have to wait at Virginia Water—I do not remember you at all.
Re examined. You can go by Egham or by Sunning dale, the longer route—I do not know anything about the High Street, except that you can go through to Guildford without change—this plan (produced) represents the railway system, but I cannot speak as to the different routes of all the trains.
ERNEST ALEXANDER . I live at Eastworth Road, Chertsey—I am a supernumerary porter at Chertsey Station—on October 26th a train arrived from Staines at 7.22 from Windsor via High Street, Staines—I found Ives lying on the floor of a third-class carriage—no one else was in the carriage—another porter named Nicholas, and, lifted him out of the carriage—he had a handkerchief tied round his neck very tightly both in front and behind—it was in a slip in front, pulled up and tied behind—after he handkerchief was cut from him he recovered in several minutes—I went for a constable—when I came back he had recovered—the carriage was in separate compartments.
WILLIAM NICHOLAS . I am a parcel porter at the Chertsey Railway Station—I assisted Alexander to lift Ives from the train—I found a handkerchief tied tightly round his neck—I assisted to cut it off—in ordinary conversation I asked for his ticket when he had recovered sufficiently—he felt in his inside pocket but was unable to produce it.
Cross-examined. Prosecutor could not possibly have tied the handkerchief himself.
Re-examined. It was tied at the back—I do not suggest he could tie it, so that he could not untie it himself.
ALFRED WERT . I am station-master at Chertsey—I remember the 7.22 train arriving from Staines on October 26th—my attention was called to Ives on a barrow in an unconscious state—when he returned to consciousness he complained of robbery—before that Nicholas asked him his name
and address and for his ticket—he said his name was Ives, and made a statement—I cannot say if that was the first question; I did not arrive till 7.31—I saw the prosecutor put his hand to the left inside pocket of his waist-coat, and bring it out with nothing in it—then he said he had been robbed of his ticket and his money, and that his ticket was from Staines to Guildford—in consequence of what I heard from the prosecutor I telephoned up and down the line: to Virginia Water first and received an answer—I went there with the prosecutor and P.C. Granger by the next train due at 8.18, which left at 8.23—at Virginia Water I was walking in front; the prosecutor was not asked to point the man out—he said, "This man robbed me of my ticket and money"—the prisoner was in the custody of station-master—the prosecutor then charged the prisoner with having robbed and assaulted him—the prisoner said, "What?" he laughed, and said, "Why, I have not seen the man before"—Ives replied, "You robbed me coming from Staines"—I told Ives the purport of the telephonic communication I had received—(The witness explained the plan of the railway system to the JURY)—the prosecutor gave me a description of the man.
ALBERT SMITH . I am station-master at Virginia Water—the 7.5 train from Staines to Chertsey would arrive at 7.17—there would be a train at 7.42 from Waterloo and Staines Junction—I received a communication at 7.50, after those trains had passed—the 6.37 was four minutes late—in consequence of that message, I searched the down Beading platform for someone who had committed an assault—that is the platform the 6.37 from Waterloo would arrive at—I found the prisoner, dressed as a navvy, lying on a seat, nearly asleep—I asked him to show me his ticket—that was in consequence of the telephonic communication I had received from Chertsey—he swore at me and showed me this ticket—he seemed a little in liquor—I remained with him in conversation till the prosecutor arrived from Chertsey—I had telephoned back to Chertsey—I was present when Ives arrived—he identified the prisoner at once.
Cross-examined. You were not excited; you were the worse for drink.
ARTHUR WILLIAM GRANGER (Chertsey Policeman). I was sent for on the night of October 26th to the railway station at Chertsey—I found the prosecutor sitting on a barrow, with assistance—at Virginia Water the prosecutor walked along the platform straight up to the defendant and said, "That is the man that robbed me and struck me in the train"—I cautioned the defendant and charged him—he laughed and said, "I have never seen the man before"—he was conveyed to Chertsey—in the carriage he produced this ticket—he said he had taken it for Guildford—it is a third-class from Staines to Guildford—he was taken to the Police-station and charged—the charge was read over to him—he was charged with assaulting and robbing the prosecutor of about 25s. in gold and silver—that was before he was searched—he was taken into the cell—I asked him in the cell where his money was—he said, "In my waistcoat pocket"—while I was searching him he said, "I had 29s. in my pocket when I left Windsor this morning"—in this small bag I found two half-sovereigns, and loose in the same pocket a 2s. piece, four sixpences, and 8d. in coppers.
Cross-examined. You were searched in the passage of the cell—the prosecutor was not in the passage—the charge was read over before you
went in the cell—I made a note, but I did not call out what I found—money is taken charge of by the inspector till the case is disposed of—the inspector was not there—the door leading to the passage to the cells was closed—I told the sergeant what was found—I am certain the prosecutor could not have heard how much money you had—the sergeant was in the passage of the cell—the prosecutor was 10 yards from that passage.
HENRY COOPER . I am a porter at Virginia Water Station—I was on duty on the arrival of the train from Staines Junction, which is due at 7.42, leaving Staines Junction at 7.30—it was a few minutes late—I remember the prisoner getting out—he went and sat on a seat—a train would leave for Guildford at 8.40—I did not notice any bundles with him.
Cross-examined. That train would not go on to Chertsey—you were not in the same train as the prosecutor was found.
Re-examined. The journey from Staines to Guildford by that train would take the greater part of two hours—he would have 58 minutes to wait at Virginia Water.
JONATHAN WEBB . I am a signalman at the Thorp Lane level crossing at Staines—it is about three-quarters of a mile from my box to High Street Station, Staines, and about a mile to Staines Junction Station—I produce my book of stoppages by signal for October 26th, which it is my duty to keep—referring to my book the train that left High Street at 7.5 had the 6.50 from Staines Junction in front of it—it was late—the train leaving Staines at 7.5 was pulled up at Thorp Lane by the crossing for two minutes—she arrived at 7.9 and left at 7.11, because the 6.50 from Staines was at Egham, the next section on—they cleared me back at 7.11, and I gave the departure for the 6.50 from Windsor at the same time, because the 6.50 from Staines Junction was standing at Egham, being a little late.
Cross-examined. That train would have stopped at Chertsey—that would be the quickest train from High Street, Staines, to Guildford; you go through Virginia Water—the signal-box is on the side of the up line—I did not see anybody get out of the train, I could not from the same side that they would get in at High Street—I do not book from the High Street Station but from Staines Junction—my box is three minutes from High Street, but I slacked the train all along because the line was blocked—as a rule the doors on both sides of the carriage are unlocked—a man leaving the train at my box would have plenty of time to catch the Waterloo train at Staines Junction at 7.32—he would have twenty minutes—the train which left Staines at 7.38 passed me at 7.40 and it passed South Junction at 7.39—at 7.40 all was clear ahead—I have to go to the station for my wages and it takes me eleven or twelve minutes to walk.
RICHARD HEATH . I am a railway guard—I joined the train timed to leave Staines Junction at 7.30 p.m. on October 26th—it goes through Virginia Water to Heading—I recognise the prisoner—he has more hair on his face—he was going to the front part of the train when he asked me if it was the train for Guildford, and I said, "Third-class behind, change at Virginia Water"—he got in that train—it left Staines Junction at 7.36, six minutes late—it was due at Virginia Water at 7.42—it arrived at 7.47.
a conversation—he asked me where he could get lodging, and I told him I thought I could find room for him—he was going to Staines reservoir works to search for work—he remained in my company about half an hour, to about 1.45 p.m.—he left me—I gave him my missis's address—just leaving off work I saw him, when he told me he had seen the missis and got a job at the reservoir works, and was going to start the next morning—he said lie should be back the next night and occupy the room—he was sober—we then went for a drink—I went with him the junction before I had the drink—I piloted him about the street, and saw him start on his way to High Street—I did not accompany him to get the ticket—he went to the junction to inquire about the train to Guildford, and he went to High Street to get the quickest train.
Evidence for the Defence.
WILLIAM BROWN (The prisoner, sworn). I am a skilled labourer—I am a navvy, but I earn a little more than the majority; I am what is called a timber man—my money is 8d. an hour in London and 7d. in the districts—I was going to Guildford to see some chaps I knew, and get a job at the same time—I had been at Staines a few hours to see some chaps I knew, from about just before two until I got the 7.30 train from Staines Junction—I had been at work a few weeks at Cook's at Eton, near Windsor—I finished up on October 22nd—I came by the 1.10 p.m. Windsor to Staines Junction—I had a look round Staines and saw some chaps I knew and had a tidy drink of beer, one with another—the last public I was in was the Waterman's Arms, with two men I knew—I came away from there about 6 p.m.—I had asked the landlord how the trains ran for Guildford—he told me there would be one soon which I could catch, but I did not go straight away, I had a look along the street to see if I could see anybody knocking off work after knocking off time—when I got to Staines Station I went into the booking office and asked the clerk how long I should have to wait for a train to Guildford—he told me there would be one in a few minutes but that I should have to wait at Virginia Water a tidy bit—I had not intended to go to Guildford that night, only I altered my mind, and may Almighty God strike me dead this present moment if I am telling a lie—I took a ticket from Staines Junction to Guildford—I asked the guard on the platform to make sure if it was the Guildford train, he pointed me to it, and I jumped in, I believe, the first third-class carriage I came to and when I get out at Virginia Water Station I was told I should have to wait nearly an hour for the train to Guildford—I had been there, according to my recollection, a little more than half an hour when I was arrested—I solemnly swear I had never seen the prosecutor in my life before, to my knowledge, till I was arrested.
Cross-examined. I lodged with a lady at Windsor—I never asked her name—the street is against Windsor Bridge, on the Eton side of the river—it was with a widow with three children—we do not ask questions when we go for lodgings—it was straight opposite the Victorian the one side and the George on the other—I was living down the turning right from the George—we often go into a public-house and never notice the sign—I have been lodging with people three months and never know their names, only the nickname of the lundlord—I was in Windsor from October 22nd to 26th: my landlady could prove it—I do not know her
name—it is a short street—Jack Hamlin could prove this, and another one named Bill, and the man I was working for was Frederick Bird—Jack Hamlin saw me in Windsor that morning—I slept in the same house, and another man called Harry; I don't know his other name—George James and Fred Foster were working at Guildford, and I was going to see them to find work, and I had my shirts in my pocket and my light boots; I gave my landlady notice on the Wednesday morning—I had 30s. and 6d. when I woke up on the Wednesday morning: two half-sovereigns and silver and coppers—I told the landlady I should not come back—I paid her 1s. 6d., left the house and went into the Red Lion—I had my shirts and light boots in my inside pockets—when we leave a lodging we do not know where we go to till we find work—my first intention was to look round Staines, but when I heard of these men being at Guildford, where I was drinking at the Watermen's Arms, I thought I should like to go and see them—William Stanley was one of the men I saw at Staines—I only see him in a public house—Gloucester Wag would be at Staines, if he had not gone away—I try to see men at work, not to borrow, but to get the "tramping" shilling out of them, the same as they do out of me when I am in work—I had 29s. when I left Windsor that morning—I sent a letter last night, to try and get witnesses up here—I had been under the impression that the train I got out of at Virginia Water was the one in which they found the prosecutor at Chertsey, and I only found out last night that I was in a different train altogether—I could have witnesses here to prove seeing me at Staines—I did not go to work at Staines, I went into four public-houses—I know George James and Fred Foster in Guildford—I did not know their addresses but I might have dropped on them in a public-house—we generally find our class of people use one house—I did not mention this when arrested because I thought my ticket would have cleared me—I knew I was charged with stealing a ticket, but I thought they would have found out that I had gone and got a ticket—I thought they were having a game with me, and I told them I had not seen the man before in my life.
JAMES JOHN RICHARDSON (Re-examined). There is no examination of tickets at High Street Station; it is a through station—the ticket office is below the stairs—a person could enter the train without showing his ticket as a rule the tickets are not examined on the route—they might be.
HARRY IVES (Re-examined). I changed the sovereign at the Friary Tap, Guildford—I had then a half sovereign, and the remainder in silver—I had had 30s. at Guildford, but I had a pint of beer, 2d., and other things—my ticket was 1s. 9d.
GUILTY . —Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. CHORLEY Prosecuted, and MR. R. W. TURNER Defended.
During the progress of the case the JURY was of opinion that there was not sufficient evidence to show that the prisoner intended to set fire to the hoist, upon which they were directed to find a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
55. WILLIAM EAMES (23), HARRY KINGETT (22) and RICHARD KINGETT (18) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully entering certain land at Thursley, armed with a gun and other weapons for the purpose of destroying game.— Fourteen Months' Hard Labour each.
56. JAMES KING (51) to stealing a Gladstone bag, the property of Edward Wingate, having been convicted at Croydon as James Lyle on January 7th, 1897. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Seventeen other convictions were proved against him.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
57. FRANK SMITH (41) to breaking in the dwelling-house of Charlotte Quick ended, and stealing a cash-box and other articles, her property, and afterwards burgluriously breaking out of the same.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Two Months' Hard Labour . And
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
60. ARTHUR COLLINSON (16) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously setting fire to the dwelling-house of Alfred Benedict Sappey, with intent to injure; also to a like offence to the dwelling-house of Algernon Hastings; also to three burglaries and two previous convictions of felony.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. C. F. GILL and HORACE AVOBY Prosecuted; MR. BIRON
At the commencement of the case Inspector Henry Marshall Hayter and Henry Chevalier Martin, clerk of the Lambeth Police Court, were called with reference to a statement made by the deceased—the Court, however, ruled that it could not be given in evidence.
JAMES PATBRSON . I live at 16. Mile End Road—the deceased John Paterson was my brother, he was my partner in two rifle ranges, one in Newington Butts and the other in Mile End Road—my brother chiefly attended to the one in Newington Butts—for about two years and a half the prisoner was an attendant at both ranges—rifles were kept in each range for use and some for sale—Mr. Kaminski, one of my tenants, had a room over the shop in Mile End Road as a bootmaker—about August 13th he complained about missing some boots from his premises, and a man named Ellis was taken into custody and charged with stealing them—about the 16th, in consequence of information I spoke to the prisoner and charged him with being concerned with Ellis in the robbery—he was taken to Bow Street and let out on his own recognisance—a day or two after that he came to see me at Mile End and wanted to know what I was going to do in the matter—after a lot of talking he said, "I will have you all shot if you don't put an end to this matter," or words to that effect—after that, I think on August 31st, both the prisoner and Ellis were at the Police-court and were discharged; after that the boots were brought back—a day or so after his discharge the prisoner came to us again at Mile End and wished to be taken on again—I said I could not do it
after what had occurred; I had considered the matter with my brother—a day or two after the prisoner and Ellis came together to see me at Mile End—they were under the influence of drink and attempted to make a disturbance but I got them away—I don't think I ever saw Simpson to speak to afterwards—on the morning of October 7th, about 9.30, I saw my brother at his house, 74, Walworth Road—I left him there to go as usual to the range at Newington Butts—about two hours afterwards I saw him brought to the hospital where he died—this revolver (produced) is one we had in our stock or like it—I have tested this in order to see what pull it requires to relock it—it is three or four pounds, it may be five—I have seen the cartridges that were found on the prisoner, and also the bullet that was extracted from my brother's body—the cartridges are not such as we use in our ranges—the bullets are much larger than those used in our ranges.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was mostly at the Newington Butts range, he used to be at the two places, but on different days—my brother actually engaged him, with a good character—he was a corporal in the Eoyal Fusiliers six years, and had a good-conduct medalaf—ter leaving the army I heard he had charge of a gentleman of weak intellect at an asylum—he was two years and a-half with us—he had an accident and lost the sight of one eye—we had to discharge him once, and took him on again—I heard about these bouts from a man named Kaininski, who worked upstairs—Ellis was arrested before the prisoner—the charge was that Kaminski had seen the prisoner and Ellis on the premises—it was during the time he was remanded that he came to see me, and asked what we were going to do in the matter—on the first occasion I sent for him—on the second I had not sent for him—I don't know whether Kaminski had—on that occasion I said he would be discharged, because the whole of the property had not been discovered—the Jews prosecuted—the Magistrate ultimately discharged them—the words the prisoner used were, "I will have you all shot," not "You ought to he shot"—in August the prisoner had been altering two revolvers for me—my brother would not buy them of the prisoner.
Re examined. The time when he came in drunk was a week after the proceedings at the Police-court—Ellis was not employed in any way with the range; he was a companion of Simpson's.
BARNET KAMINSKI . I am a boot manufacturer, and am a tenant of Mr. Paterson's—I know the prisoner—he took some boots—after the trial I asked him when he was going to pay for them—he took something from his pocket—I thought perhaps he was going to fight me, and I left him—I saw him again twice—the first time he said, "All right, I will pay you all of them"—the second time I said, "If you will pay for the boots I have lost, I will not go to-morrow to the trial—he said, "I will pay you for this."
Cross-examined. I said, "If you pay me I will withdraw the case"—he refused to pay me—he was very cross—he took his hands out of his pocket, and I saw a revolver.
HARRY GEORGE MULLETT . I live at Newington, and am a porter—on October 7th, soon after 10 a.m., I was in Newington Butts, and I stopped to look in at the window of the rifle range—I heard a shot fired, and out of curiosity I looked in to see if the shot had hit the
target—I could not see it on account of the smoke—then there was another shot—a man passed me at the door, coming out on my left, and bore off to the back of me—then I saw a man in his shirt sleeves in the act of falling down, and I saw come blood on his shirt—I heard him scream—I shouted out after the other man—I thought there was something wrong—he then started running—he walked first for about ten yards—I shouted out "Stop him; he has that some one"—two policemen came up—I remained at the shop door—the man had fallen on his side with his head towards the door—the man who passed me is the prisoner—I heard two more shots in the street, and then a policeman came back with the revolver in his possession—it was opened by some one, and four empty cartridges and one loaded one fell cut.
Cross-examined. Some seconds elapsed between the two first shots. FIUNK THOMAS. I live at Brixton Road, and am a waiter—I was passing this rifle range about 10.15 on the morning of October 7th—my attention was attracted to the range by hearing two shots—I was on the opposite side of the road—the shots sounded rather loud—there was a few seconds' interval between them—as I turned round after the second shot I saw a man leaving the shop—I believe him to be the prisoner—I saw the deceased; he was lying on the floor—he had fallen down Justin the doorway—he said, "I have been shot"—the prisoner went towards the clock tower—he walked out of the shop—I saw him stopped when I heard two more reports.
Cross-examined. The shots were very quick together, but rather loud. HERBERT EDWARD NEWARK. I live at 26, Newington Butts—I knew the deceased man by sight and also the prisoner—my shop is directly opposite the rifle range—on this morning my attention was attracted by two shots—I was in my shop—there was about two seconds interval and there were two screams—I looked across the road and saw the prisoner about a yard and a half away from the shop door—he had a revolver in his hand—I went towards him and he looked at me and said, "What is the matter?"—I saw the deceased fall across the door-way, with his right hand across his left chest—smoke was coming through the doorway—the prisoner had gone about ten yards before he spoke to me—one man said, "That's him; stop him"—the prisoner started running as hard as he could—I ran after him—he put the revolver away under his coat—he got about fifty yards before I caught him—I threw him on his back—I pounced on him suddenly—he said, "What have I done?"—I said, "You know what you have done"—I lay across him and asked someone to take the revolver away from him'—it must have been a lower pocket they took it from—it was handed to some man standing by who fired two shots from it.
Cross-examined. When I first saw the prisoner he was walking very fast—I am sure he was not running—people could not see the revolve unless they were near him.
GEORGE BUBCHETT . I live at Camberwell and am an exconstable—on this day I was passing through Newington Butts, and when about forty yards from the rifle range I saw the prisoner running—I heard somebody call out "Stop him"—he had a revolver in his hand—he put it in his right-hand pocket—the last witness caught him and threw him to the ground—he was taken to the station.
Cross-examined. He was very much excited.
GEOROE ARCHER . I live in Kennington Road and keep a fish shop—on this morning I was in Newington Butts and saw the prisoner running away from the rifle range—when I got to the spot where he was, he was being held down—I took the revolver out of his right-hand trouser pocket—two shots were fired by a man standing by.
CHARLES FRENCH (31 L). On October 7th I was in Newington Butts in company with Constable Appleby—I saw the prisoner coming from the direction of the rifle range; he was walking—afterwards he ran—he was stopped about 50 or 60 yards from the range—I took him into custody—at the station I found eight cartridges on him; they were in his trousers' pocket—he was charged at the hospital.
THOMAS APPLEBY (33 L R). I was in company with Constable French on this morning—after the prisoner had been arrested I went to the rifle range, and found the deceased—I got the revolver—it was opened for me by a man who was there; four empty cartridges and one loaded one fell out—they were picked up and taken to the Station.
CHARLES FRENCH (Re-examined by MR. GILL). We got to the station about 10.30—I received instructions to take him to the hospital at 1 o'clock—I saw the doctor, and he said the dying depositions should be taken—I told the prisoner that the dying depositions would be taken, and asked him if lie wished to be present—he said "Yes," a cab was sent for, and he was taken to the hospital—at the hospital he was spoken to by Inspector Hayter, and served with a notice.
Cross-examined. When we got to the hospital the magistrate had not arrived—he came about a quarter of an hour afterwards.
PHILIP TURNER . I am house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—I was there on October 7th, and saw the deceased man when he was brought in about 10 30—his general condition was very serious—he had two wounds, having the appearance of bullet wounds—one was on the left side below the left breast, three inches outside the nipple and one inch below it—the other was just behind the left shoulder—the first wound was a dangerous one—in the course of the morning I came to the conclusion that his recovery was practically hopeless—I told him of his condition—he could understand me—I communicated with the police—about 2 o'clock the police magistrate came, and I believe the clerk from the police-court—I was present when the depositions of the deceased were taken in the presence of the accused—I heard him make his statement and give his evidence—I believe he could understand everything that was said—I continued to attend him up to the time of his death—he died on the 10th—he gradually sank—on October 11th I made a post-mortem examination—the direction of the wound on the left was inwards and slightly downwards; the cavity of the chest was opened by the passing of the bullet; the lower lobe of the left lung was perforated; the bullet passed through under the bones forming the spinal column, struck the 12th rib on the right side which was broken, and the bullet glanced off apparently downwards—I could not find the bullet—that was the wound which caused death—the course of the bullet in the wound in the back of the left shoulder was almost directly inwards at first; then downwards and inwards—it struck the 5th rib on the right fide—I found that bullet (produced)—there was no blackening of the skin round the wounds—the
immediate cause of death was acute pleurisy, with effusion, that being brought about by the bullet wound.
Cross-examined. When I first saw the deceased I regarded him as being in a very critical condition; that was why I communicated with the police—he was then in immediate danger of death—it was impossible to say at that time what the nature of his injuries might be—it was possible that he might have died that day—he lived three days alter that—before I made my examination I knew his lung was injured, and that his chest was opened—when I made my examination the body was stripped.
Re-examined. I thought in all probability he would not recover when I saw him on the 7th—he was in a very weak state when his statement was taken—I thought it quite possible he would die during the course of the day.
HENRY HAYTER (re-examined)—I saw the prisoner at Guy's Hospital on October 7th, about 2 o'clock—I said, "I am a police officer, I shall charge you with feloniously wounding John Paterson by shooting him with a revolver at 41, Newington Butts, on October 7th, with intent to murder"—he made no reply—that was before he had gone before the Magistrate—it was after that that I served him with the notice—on October 15th, at 11 a.m. I lurther charged the prisoner—I said, "In consequence of John Paterwon having died at Guy's Hospital on the 10th, you will be further charged with wilful murder"—he said, "I am very sorry; it was an accident; I suppose I shall have to put up with it"—the charge was read over to him—he said "It was an accident, sir."
Cross-examined. I was present when he was committed for trial—I do not remember his saying the same thing then—he might have said so—he said he would reserve his defence.
WALTER JOHN SIMPSON (the Prisoner) sworn. I am 30 years old and live at 32, Silvestre Road, East Dulwich—my mother and brother are living there—my mother is a widow, and my brother and I contribute towards her support—I was formerly in the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers—I served eight years with them; six years and a half in India—I left as a corporal—this (produced) is my discharge and I received a medal for service—when I left the Army I was employed at an asylum in Kent—I then went to a Mrs. Boolier and was given the charge of her invalid husband; he was affected in his mind. About two years and a half ago I was employed by the deceased in connection with his shooting gallery—there was not the slightest ill-feeling between us—James Paterson dismissed me—the matter about the boots being stolen was first brought to my notice by him; he Rent for me—up to that time there had never been any charge made against me—I know Ellis—we were both charged at Worship Street—I was acquitted—Ellis offered to pay for the boots—James Pierson did not take a favorable view of my case, but it did not annoy me—I did not threaten him, or anybody else—Kaminski asked me when I was going to pay for the boots—I said I had nothing to do with them—I never had any revolver when Kaminski left the room so
quickly—I had a dummy revolver in my pocket, which would only fire caps—it frightened Kaminski at the time—I did not mean any harm by it—about six weeks before October 7th I offered a revolver to John Paterson for sale—he would not give the price I asked for it—I was then out of employment because of James Paterson—on October 7th I went to see the deceased at Newington Butts—I had a revolver with me—I took it to sell to him—he had previously offered me 22s. 6d. for it, but I had asked 35s.—that was when I was in work—I took the cartridges with me because those at the range were different and the cartridges would have been of no use to me—when I got there the revolver was not loaded—I loaded it to shoot at the target to show the deceased the accuracy of the revolver—while I was sighting at the target the deceased said, "You are not allowed to fire here" and caught hold of my right arm with his left hand to prevent me shooting—he was standing on my right facing the target—I had my finger round the trigger—it was not cocked—as he pulled my arm back the revolver went off—he screamed and the shot must have hit him—he then closed with me and fell towards the ground, and in the struggle the revolver went off again in pulling me on top of him—I lost my senses for a moment and rushed out of the shop with the intention of going for Dr. Newton in Eennington Park Road—that was the direction in which I was running, but before I had got fifty or sixty yards from the shop I was thrown to the ground and knelt on by half-a-dozen men—the revolver was taken from me and two photos were tired in the street—on leaving the shop I did not try to hide the revolver, but carried it in my hand—I did not shoot Mr. Paterson—it was a pure accident and through his own fault—I once had an accident to my right Nye; the sight has gone in that eye.
Cross-examined. I was present at the inquest held on the deceased—I heard all the evidence—I knew they were inquiring into the cause of death—I was not asked for my evidence or my defence—the coroner said to me that if I wished to give evidence I could do so—I was not called as a witness—at the inquest I hoard the evidence of Mr. Kaminski, Mr. Mullett, Mr. Newark, Mr. Thomas, Mr. French, and Mr. Appleby—I said I wished to reserve my defence—I said I did not wish to make any statement—after the prosecution about the boots I believe part of them were brought back—Ellis was a friend of mine—I did not say that if there was anything more about the boots I would have them all shot—I went and saw Kaminski at his house—I also saw him in the street—on the first occasion I put my hand into my pocket and took out a dummy revolver to frighten him—I often have one to lark with—it was taken from me in the Albion public-house by Mr. Cooper—he is a sweep—James Paterson said that in consequence of my conduct and my threats I could not be taken back into his employment—I did not care—I could have got a character from somewhere else—I did not go to the premises in Mile End Road with Ellis, and James Paterson did not turn us out because we were under the influence of drink—I went there by myself, to ask Mr. Paterson to take me on again—I was out of employment the whole of September—I did not wait about outside the range at Newington Butts in October—I passed there once with a friend—I had thirteen cartridges with me on October 7th, loose in my pocket—the first thing I asked Mr. Paterson
when I got to the range was for a character—he said, "I will not give you one"—I said, "Why not?"—he said, "For the way you have behaved"—I told him I was hard up, and asked him to buy a revolver, for which he had previously offered me 22s. 6d.—lie hesitated, and then said he would not—I was then loading it—when I was about to fire we were close up to the counter—I had my right hand out—utter he was shot I tried to get him up, but he fell again—I went for the doctor—I walked about ten yards—I saw a man come across the road—I asked him what was the matter—I did not know what I was doing at the time—then I started running—I put the revolver into my trousers' pocket—I was taken to the station—I do not think I told the police that this had happened during a struggle, or that I had been on my way lord a doctor—I did not make any statement at the station—I was taken to the hospital, and I heard the deceased examined—I asked him some questions, which he answered—I asked him if he had tired the first shot, and if he had taken the revolver in his own band—he did not take it, and he called me a lying skunk—I did not put to him the story which I have told here to-day—it was after his death that I said it was an accident—I did not give evidence before the Magistrate—I gave my statement to my solicitor.
Re-examined. When before the coroner I was represented by a solicitor, and I was guided by him—I was taken to the hospital at a moment's notice—I was not represented by anybody there—the suggestions I made to the deceased the a were lies; the story I tell to-day is true.
GUILTY. of manslaughter. — Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MESSRS. BIBON and GUY-STEPHKNSON Prosecuted, and MR. A. HUTTOH
DOMINICO REITZO . (Interpreted). I am a model maker living at 37, Friar Street, Blackfriars—on October 24th I gave evidence against Nye and Toomey, they were charged with stealing a watch and some money from an Italian named Fiore—I saw the assault and robbery—I had arrested Nye and handed him over to the police—Toomey took the watch—before I gave evidence I saw both the prisoners together outside the Court on Monday, October 24th, the robbery took place on the Saturday—Brenan had a watch and £1 in his hand—the watch was the one which had been stolen on Saturday—he said, Take this and don't go before the Magistrate, it will be just as well for all of us"—the other prisoner said, "I will make it 30s"—I said, "I will have nothing, come no before the Magistrate"—I told the Magistrate all—I saw both the prisoner speak to Fiore—I did not hear what was said—after I had given evidence I saw them again and Moyle said I was a fool not to take the money and not go before the Magistrate—Brenan was close by.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. This was all spoken in English—I knew the watch had been stolen—I did not tell a policeman, because I was going to tell the Magistrate—this was about 10 o'clock, ten or twelve minutes before I gave evidence—Brenan was taken into custody
immediately I spoke to the Magistrate—there were some people about; none taking part in our conversation—I saw the watch twice—I did not Bee Moyle taken into custody—I pointed out Brenan, not Moyle—I have seen Moyle several times—I have Dot drunk ninth him.
Cross-examined by Brenan. I first saw you with the watch in front of the Police-court—I did not lock you up because I did not understand the English law.
ANTONIO FIORE . I live at 37, Friar Street, Blackfriars Road, and am in the employ of the last witness—I was assaulted by Nye and Toomey on October 22nd and they stole my watch, handkerchief, and money—Reitzo came to my assistance, and on October 24th I went before Mr. Slade, the police magistrate, to give evidence against them—I saw both Moyle and Brenan outside the Court they were together—Brenan said to me, "I will give you the watch and £1," and the other said, "I will give you the watch and 30s. if you will not go before the Court"—I did not see the watch—I said, "No; speak to my master"—I heard them speaking to him, they said the same to him—I pointed out both the prisoners to the police.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. We spoke in English—I said at the Court that I did not point Moyle out to the police—when they spoke to me I said, "Me no understand."
RAIFARL VAGUOLIVI . I am an interpreter, I know Eeitzo and Fiore—I was before Mr. Slade at the Police-court when Nye and Toomey were charged—Fiore and Eeitzo were there, I saw them before they gave evidence—they spoke to me—I went into the Court and then went out and into a public-house and there saw them again with the two prisoners drinking together—Reitzo brought Brenan to me—he said, "This is the man who says he will give me back the watch and pay me 30s. and give you your expenses if I do not go and prosecute in the Court"—I do not know if Brenan understood, Reitzo spoke in Italian—I said to Brenan, "I am not a judge, magistrate or solicitor but you must not interfere with the witnesses, you may be prosecuted for compounding a felony"—I left him then and went into Court; again—I do not know it Moyle could hear—while in Court the policeman Cooper called me out into the passage, where I saw Brenan, Reitzo, and Fiore—the policeman said that the Italian had said something he could not understand, and then Reitzo said something to me in Italian—I said to Brenan, "I cautioned you before, don't you interfere with the witnesses"—then I said to the policeman, "They wish them not to go inside the Court to prosecute; take care of your witnesses, take them inside the Court"—this was all before they had given evidence against Nye and Toomey.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I do not know anything about Moyle.
HENRY PKPPERALL (258 M). I was outside Southwark Police-court on October 24th—I saw Moyle there and Eeitzo—Moyle came up to Reitzo and said, "I will give you £1 10s. and the watch back if you will not go in front of the Magistrate"—Reitzo said, "Come up to the Magistrate"—they then walked away to the Foresters' Arms—I went in after them and saw Moyle there—I then reported to my inspector inside the Court what I had heard, and afterwards I arrested Moyle—I told him I had instructions from the Migistratrt to arrest him for attempting to compound
a felony—ho said, "I am a clerk, employed by Mr. Mathows, 1, Newington Causeway"—I said I did not believe it.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. He did not say that he was a clerk to Mr. Mathews or anybody else who would employ him—I was not on duty there, I was in uniform—nobody else was speaking to Reitzo—I was close to Moyle—I did not caution him—I thought he was trying to bribe the witness—I did not know what he was talking about—I have known Reitzo about three yearn—I have had drinks with him when I have been in plain clothes—I had seen Moyle before, outside the same Court—I do not know that he has introduced clients to solicitors there—I took him into custody about 12.30—he was searched—the watch was not found on him or on Brenan—Reitzo did not point Moyle out to me—I did not see Fiore—I have had one case with Rietzo before—it was a civil case.
JOHN COOPER (71 M). I arrested Nye and Toomey on October 23rd; they have since been convicted—their sentences have been postponed until this case has been settled—I saw Brenan at the Court—Reitzo spoke to me and I spoke to the interpreter—I asked Reitzo to point out the man who had made him an offer—he went and put his hand on Brenan's shoulder—I said I should arrest him for attempting to compound a felony—he made no answer then—he was charged with Moyle at the station—no watch was found on him—afterwards he said he could not understand what he was charged for—neither of them made any answer to the charge—Brenan also said that he was acting on behalf of Mrs. Toomey, the mother of one or the prisoners—I heard the interpreter caution Brenan—he said, "Don't you interfere with the witnesses; I have cautioned you before."
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I do not know that 30s. was found on Moyle.
Cross-examined by Brenan. When the interpreter cautioned you we were inside the Inquiry room—nothing was said about a man in a light suit.
SOPHIA TOOMEY . I am a widow, and live at 47, Crossly Row—I am the mother of Toomey, who was charged on October 24th—I was outside the Court on that day—Moyle came to me about 11.30—I had never seen him before—he said, "Is it your son who is in trouble?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Have you any money?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Can you get any?"—I said, "I will try and get £1"—I went to Mr. Goldsmith and when I came back my daughter-in-law said, "He wants a guines, she gave him 1s.—we went down to the public-house and I gave him the money outside—he then took me up to Mr. Sidney, a solicitor—he said to the clerk, "Here is a case, the fee is behind the bar"—he meant the bar of the public-house—I came down and I did not see him any more—I saw Brenan then.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. Mr. Sidney defended my son—I have seen Pepperall four or five times.
MARGARETT TOOMEY . I am the daughter-in-law of the last witness—I gave her 1s. on October 24th to make up the guinea—I saw Moyle, he asked me if I was interested in the case—he said, "If you get £1 1s. for a solicitor your brother-in-law may get off—I got 10s. 6d. for him for his trouble—my little brother-in-law gave it him.
Cross-examined by Mr. HUTTON. Moyle said it was for the trouble he
had taken in the case—nothing was said about its being given to witnesses to prevent them from giving evidence.
Brenan in hit statement before tile Magistrate said that Moyle asked him if Mrs. Toomey wanted her son defended, and he said that he thought so and Moyle went and found Mrs. Toomey and explained the close to her, and told her to get £1 1s.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAKES MOYLE (the Prisoner), sworn. I live at 5, Farringdon Buildings, Newington, and am an hotel broker's clerk—I work for anyone—since last Easter I have introduced clients to solicitors—I have introduced clients to Mr. Crocker and Mr. Mathews, who are solicitors at South work Police-court—I have also worked for Mr. Hinton, the Southwark County Bailiff—never saw Brenan before the day he was placed beside me in the dock—I went into Mr. Mackintyre's about 9.50—I had been collecting some money for him—I saw Reitzo there—he told me that his boy had been robbed of his watch—he asked where Mr. Mathews was—he told me they wanted to square it up, and I said I did not know anything about it—I had introduced him to Mr. Mathews some time before—Mr. Mathews would not have anything to do with him, and he told me to have nothing to do with him—I came away—I had seen Reitzo before several times—I asked somebody who the woman was, and I sympathised with her, and asked her if she could get the money to defend her son—she got the money and gave it to me, and the two Italians followed me down, I took it to Mr. Mackintyre, and asked him to take care of it—I said to him, "Don't let the woman have the money till I have got a solicitor"—I received 10s. 6d. from the little boy Toomey, the sister said for my kindness in getting Mr. Sidney—Mrs. Toomey said the Italians wanted 30s.—I said, "Don't take any notice of them"—the policeman came into Mr. Mackintyre's and said to me, "The magistrate's clerk has ordered me to arrest you"—I said, "What for?"—he said, "Come along and you will see"—when we got to the station he charged me with tampering with a witness—it is untrue that I ever made an offer of 30s. to Reitzo or Fiore not to give evidence, and that I conspired with Brenan to prevent them from giving evidence.
Cross-examined. When I introduced people to solicitors I took a commission—I got 5s. in the £ for every client—I knew Reitzo and Fiore had a case on because they told me—Reitzo spoke to me before I spoke to Mrs. Toomey—I do not know who pointed her out; it was not Brenan—Mr. Sidney does not give any commission, it is Mr. Crocker who gives one—I gave the money to Mr. Mackintyre over the bar, because the woman was being followed by the Italians—I saw them inside the public-house talking to the interpreter—I did not see Brenan speak to the interpreter.
Re-examined. No offer was made by the Italians that I should be the means by which the witnesses should be squared; I advised them to go to Mr. Mathews, and lay the whole case before him.
PATRICK MACKINTYRE . I keep the Foresters' Arms, High Street, Borough—before that I was in the police and resigned—I have known Moyle about eight years—up till Easter he was in regular employment—since then I have seen him constantly; he has used my house—he has always born a good character—on October 24th, about 10 o'clock, Moyle and Reitzo were in the bar, and afterwards went out—Moyls returned and asked if I had seen Mr. Mathews—I said that he had gone to the Mansion House—he said, "I have got a case at the Police-court, and I have got the cash here, and I don't know what to do with it"—I said, "Why not go and see Mr. Sidney"—he said, "I will hand you £1 to keep till I can get a clerk, and hand it over to him"—he went out and then one of Mr. Sidney's clerks came in and I said, "Moyle is looking for you, he has got a case, here is the sovereign"—the Toomeys were defended by Mr. Sidney—Moyle has been acting as a house agent, he is also a betting man—I have employed him on many occasions—I have never seen Brenan before.
Cross-examined. If Moyle had not found Mr. Sidney's clerk I should have handed the money over to Mr. Mathew's clerk—his object was to get a commission—I should give it to any solicitor who comes in—he would still be entitled to his commission, that is why it was left with me—neither Fiore or Reitzo were in the bar then.
WALTER BRENAN (the Prisoner) swore. I was outside the Police-court on October 24th—I saw Mrs. Toomey—I know her—she said that the prosecutor had said he would not press the charge against her son—the prosecutor asked me to have a drink with him, which I did—I went in and explained to the interpreter what the prosecutor had said—he told me not to have anything to do with it—I did not know Moyle, but he asked me if the boy wanted defending—I said I thought his mother would have him defended—he spoke to the woman but I don't know what he said—I had no more conversation with anybody till the policeman called me over into the Police-court—I had never seen Moyle before.
Cross-examined. I had had no conversation with Moyle about the case—when I spoke to Reitzo I had not got a watch in my hand, I had never seen the watch—it was not mentioned—I had been out of work six weeks and could not have got £1—Moyle was not there then.
RICHARD BRENAN . I am the prisoner's father—I am a bottler in the mineral water line—Pepperall called at my house and said my son was locked up for attempting to compound a felony—he had not got a six-pence in his pocket—he worked at the Lyndon and Brighton Railway—he has never had a stain on his character.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Justice Wills.
MR. ELLIOTT Prosecuted, and MR. SKLLS. Defended.
AUGUSTUS CROSS . I am a keeper to Mr. Longman of Fair Lawn, Woodminster—on November 2nd, about quarter to three in the morning, I was on Mr. Woods' ground, he is a farmer and has part of Mr. Longman's shooting—Mr. Hill, an independent gentleman, was with me—he is not connected with the estate, he came here for the purpose of catching moths—while we were there I heard some shots fired in the direction of Mr. and Lady Lambert's Wood—on coming to Croydon Lane Mr. Hill went up the lane and I went on the left side of the wood—the wood is surrounded by a fence, I noticed that some of the barbed wire was broken down at the corner—after speaking to Mr. Hill we went down to the back of the wood, I looked over the fence and saw Shepherd and another man—It was a bright moonlight night—I did not at first see that it was Shepherd, I saw there were two men standing there—after a while Shepherd put his gun to his shoulder and shot a hen pheasant in a tree, the bird fell and the other man went and picked it up—I then made a noise by scuffling in the hedge with my feet—I had seen a third man in the wood—after the noise I made with my feet Shepherd walked towards me—he came within a few yards of me and I called out to Mr. Hill, "Look out, it's Bill Shepherd"—I called that out very loudly—Shepherd must hive heard me, he then ran away—I jumped over the fence and ran after him for about twenty yards in the wood—he then deliberately turned round and fired at me—he was fine between thirty and forty yards from me—I saw him turn round for the purpose—I dropped on my knee—one of the shots went through the point of my collar, some went in the upper part of my face, and some in different parts of my body—thin (produced) is the collar I was wearing—the shots in my face were on the left side of my cheek—the marks are gone now—I put my hand up to my face, and found there was blood on my face—some of the shots struck me along the arm and in the face—there had been no blood on my face before—I had not scratched myself in the wood—I did not see anymore of the prisoner, he got away—I did not see where the others went—I went on to the coachman's place—he and I searched the wood, but did not find anyone—I afterwards went to my brother's, and then to Banstead Station, where I saw the prisoner and identified him—I have no doubt he is the man that fired at me—I could see him quite plainly—I had known him for sixteen years.
Cross-examined. I am twenty-four years old—I met Mr. Hill on this night about 10 or 10.30—we were out in the woods together—we heard shots before three, but not on our ground—it was just alter three when I heard shots on our ground—I did not see the reports in the papers of the examination before the Magistrate—I could not say how the third man was dressed—I could not say what the second man did with the pheasant when he picked it up—I recognised the prisoner when he came towards me and was within ten yards of me—that was before he tired at me—I made the noise with my feet to draw the attention of the men, not to frighten them away—I and Mr. Hill were to other searching for the poachers—I said to Mr. Hill, "It is Bill Shepherd"—Mr. Hill knew him by sight—he had not so good an opportunity of seeing him as
I had—lie was between 20 and 30 yards from me when he tamed and tired at me—I had to jump a fence and he went on, leaving me behind—I heard three shots: one at the pheasant, one at me, and one on the right-hand side of me when I was running after Shepherd—I don't think I mentioned that third shot before the Magistrate, for this reason: I did not know where that was fired from and I did not see who fired it—I heard Mr. Hill examined before the Magistrate—he said he heard the shot whistle over his head—that was the shot that was fired at me—I could not say which of the men Mr. Hill chased—he was over the fence; I was insider—two of the men ran in the same direction—I could not say where they went—I had several marks on my face when I was before the Magistrate—they were not caused by the boughs of the trees—I did not know there was blood at first.
Re-examined. At the time the shot was fired at me Mr. Hill was behind me and on lower ground—some of the shots might have gone over his head—I next day examined the trees close by where the shot was fired at me—my brother and a mate, Willis, were with me—I found some of the ivy out through and marks of shot on the trees about five feet from the ground—there had not been a lot of poaching going on there—there were some feathers lying about—there had been no shooting in the wood that night before this—no reward had been offered for catching the poachers—I had no quarrel with the prisoner, except for an assault about a year and ten months ago—I don't know that he had a license for carrying a gun; I believe he had—he had no right of shooting, nor had his father, not within a mile and a half of our woods—I have had no quarrel with him about shooting over his own ground—I have no spite against him.
THOMAS HENRY CHAMBERLAIN HILL . I am an independent gentleman, and live at Myrtle Yale, Carshalton—I am a collector of moths, and for that purpose I go out early in the morning—on the morning in question I went out with the last witness—while talking to him I heard the report of a gun, about Banutead way—in consequence of that we proceeded together in that direction—I came up to where the barbed wire was broken—I walked with Gross to about the centre of the wood, and there he called out—there is a fence round the wood—I was close to the outside—I was a very short distance from Cross when he called out—there are two fences round the wood, a hazel fence and a wooden one—I was outside the hazel fence that separated us two—I was not more than two yards from Gross, only a few feet, and we were nearly on the same level—just before he called out I saw a man, but was not able to recognise him—Cross then went through the fence, and then I saw a second man—I was not able to recognise him—he was between 20 and 30 yards from me I should think—it was then that Gross called out, "It is Shepherd"—I think he said, "Bill Shepherd"—he called it out in a loud voice—Cross then got over the rail and the man he said was Shepherd ran up the drive in the wood—I saw the second man go through the wood—I heard a shot fired; I heard it as I ran along to the bottom of the wood—the shot was fired by the second man; the one that ran up the driver—he was directly opposite to me—that was the man that Gross was pursuing—the shot passed through the bushes directly over my head—I ran after the second man, but did not catch him—I slipped and fell—as I was
running I heard a second shot—I went to the other side of the wood, and there met Cross—he spoke to me, and we went to call up Mr. Lambert's man, and searched the wood—we found no one—later on we went to Banstead Police-station—I then noticed Cross's face—it was bleeding at the side—I am not quite sure as to what time that was, I think it was about six—it was a beautiful moonlight night—I should think the moon was just past the full—the wood is not a very thick one—it is nearly all firtrees—any one standing outside the fence could see into the interior of the wood.
Cross-examined. Cross made a noise with his feet when he saw the second man—he followed that man up the drive—he called out that the man was Bill Shepherd directly after he had made the noise with his feet, net before—he then followed the man up the wood—it was then I heard the shot—I have been examined on two occasions about this—I am not quite sure whether on either of those occasions I mentioned more than one shot—I believe I mentioned hearing the pellets pass over my head—I was with Cross from 3.15 till 6—I believe I called at the coachman's house and at Cross's brother's house—I first noticed the marks on Cross's face at Banstead Station—it must have been bleeding for about three hours—I have known the prisoner by sight for about eighteen months—he lived not far from me.
By the COURT. I am certain I heard Cross say "It is Bill Shepherd"—I have not the least doubt about it—I think I said so before the Magistrate.
ALFRED GOOCH (349 W). On November 2nd, about a quarter to 9 in the morning, I was called to the Cock at Sutton—I found the prisoner there lying on the floor drunk—I evicted him—I saw that he answered the description of the man that was wanted for shooting—I did not know his name—he was a stranger tome—I had his name and description given to me—I took him to the Police-station at Sutton—I searched him there and found a double-barrelled breech-loading gun inside his left-hand coat pocket—it was in two pieces—he had on a light tweed coat, and the gun was in a long, big pocket at the bottom of the coat—when he was sobered he was charged—this is the gun—I examined the barrels—I found they had been recently discharged.
Cross-examined. The Cock at Sutton is a well-known house—it is about two miles and three-quarters from where this happened—he could stand—he walked with me to the station—I did not make a note of this at the time—I had received information from my sergeant about six that morning.
JOHN BARNES (Detective W). I am stationed at Sutton—on November 2nd, about eight in the morning, I saw Cross at Carshalton—he was out in the open—I noticed his face—he had a slight wound on his left cheek, a small round wound, and the blood had just trickled down—I noticed his collar—it had a small hole in the left corner—he made a Communication to me, in consequence of which I afterwards went to a place he described and examined the trees—I found marks on hem, apparently of gun shots, about five feet from the grounds—two trees were distinctly marked; ivy was climbing up the first tree; they were very high trees; the ivy was quite fresh cut through—the bark was drilled am had every appearance of shot marks—there were some pheasants' feathers on the ground—I was at the station about six in the evening when the
prisoner was charged with being on enclosed premises for the purpose of taking game, and also discharging a gun at Cross with intent to murder him—he made no reply whatever—I went to the prisoner's house—he lives with his father and mother—I went into his bed-room about half-past eight that morning—the bed had the appearance of two persons having slept there—it was a double bed—on one side it appeared to have been slept on, the other side was all right.
Cross-examined. Woodminster is the name of the place—it is about three miles from the Cock at Button—going from Carshalton to Sutton you pass the Cock—the prisoner was drunk—we let him sleep till six before he recovered—I did not find the feathers under the tree that I searched—the shots appeared to have spread; they were not all of a lump.
By the COUHT. I first heard of this matter at 7 that morning—I heard of it at my house—the police came, and called me out and gave me a name and description—I got up and went straight to his father's house—it is about a mile and a-half from where I live—I met Cross on my way, and we stood talking together.
ABRAHAM SHEPHERD . I live on the hill at Carshalton and am a market gardener—the prisoner is my son—he lives with me—on the afternoon he was at home to tea at about 4 o'clock—I did not see him after that, till I saw him at the Police-court—he slept along with a young man lodger,—that young man slept at home that night.
Cross-examined. I have some little shooting round my house—my son has a gun license—he was accustomed to go out early on the ground—about 5 o'clock on this night I went to bed about 9.30—I left my son's supper and a light on the table—I saw it there when I went to bed—I am up every morning at 5.30 or 6—there was no supper left in the morning—there had been no ill-feeling between my son and Cross that I know of—my land is about 18 1/2 acres.
GUILTY with intent to resist his apprehension.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 12TH, 1898.