CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIRST SESSION, HELD NOVEMBER 20TH, 1899
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ., Q.C.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, November 20th, 1899, and following days,
Before the Right Hon. ALFRED JAMES NEWTON, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir CHARLES DARLING , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALID HANSON, Bart., M.P.; Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Bart., G.C.I.E.; Aldermen of the said City; the Right Hon. Sir CHARLES HALL , K.C.M.G., Q.C.; M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , Knt.; Sir MARCUS SAMUEL , Knt.; JOHN POUND , Esq.; WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq.; JOHN CHARLES BELL , Esq.; and Sir JOHN KNILL , Bart., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR, Esq., Alderman
W. H. C. MAHON, Esq.
J. D. LANGTON, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
NEWTON, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners Have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, November 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd, 1899.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
1. WILLIAM BROWN, ABRAHAM EMANUEL ABRAHAMS, HARRIET ANNIE CROSS, PHILIP PERRON , and JAME ARMITAGE FOX , Unlawfully inciting certain women to administer to themselves certain noxious drugs, with intent to procure abortion.
THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL, MR. SUTTON, MR. CHARLES MATHEWS, and
MR. MUIR Prosecuted; MR. GILL, Q.C., and MR. ABINGER appeared for Brown; LOHD COLERIDGE, Q.C., for Abrahams, and MR. GRAIN, for Cross, Person, and Fox.
GUILTY . BROWN— Twelve Months' Hard Labour, Second Class ABRAHAMS and FOX —Nine Months' Hard Labour each, Second Class CROSS and PERRON —Discharged on Recognizances.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 20th, 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LYNE Prosecuted.
FRANK WINN PATTISONR . I belong to the Editorial department of the Daily Chronicle—on October 27th, about 1.15 a.m., I was in Chancery Lane, going from Fleet Street towards Holborn—as I crossed from the Post-office in Fleet Street to Chancery Lane I saw five or six men on the other side, going towards Ludgate Circus; I did not like their looks, as they appeared to be loafing—I crossed to Chancery Lane, as quick as I could, to get near some men, who were working in the road, and just as I got near them I looked back, and saw that the men had turned, and were
following me—when I got alongside the men who were working in the road three of the men crossed from the other side, and I saw them standing near the pillar-box at Carey Street—I walked on about 50 yards, and two men came in front of me; one struck me here, and tried to push me back; I believe that was the prisoner; another came behind me, put his knee up, and pulled me back by my shoulders—one man began rifling my pockets, and the prisoner, to the best of my belief, rifled another pocket—I called out "Police!" three times, and somebody said, "Stop his b——y mouth"—they took my keys, and I had a half-crown in my pocket, which I lost, I cannot say how; I heard a whistle, and one man said, "He has nothing but b——y coppers in his pocket"—I heard footsteps, and they ran off; I picked up my waterproof, and followed them, and saw the prisoner in the hands of the police about 50 yards off—I lost sight of them because I was on my back and had to get up—the prisoner is the man, to the best of my belief—my shoulder was bad for two or three days, but I was rot much hurt.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were perfectly sober at the station.
GEORGE BROWN . I am a flusher, employed by the Strand Board of Works—on October 27th, at 1.15 a.m., I was working in Chancery Lane; I saw six or seven young fellows following the prosecutor up the lane—I did not like the look of them, and watched them, and heard the prosecutor holloa out "Help!" and "Police!"—I blew my whistle, and they all started off different ways—I saw the prisoner come running direct from the prosecutor, and stopped him in Carey Street, and a constable took him—he said, "Loose, loose"—I am quite sure he came from the mob of men who were round the prosecutor—I do not remember whether he was drunk or sober; he was not too drunk to run.
CHARLES FREDERICK CHARMAN . I am a flusher, and live at 1, Cage Place, Marshall Road—on October 27th, about 1.15 a.m., I was with Brown; he said something to me, and I saw some fellows following the prosecutor up Chancery Lane—I saw them in Carey Street and Cursitor Street—four were following; three dropped behind, and three in front and one man went in the centre—the prosecutor halloaed out "Police!" and "Help!"—we rushed to his assistance, and the prisoner ran across from the prosecutor to Carey Street—Brown caught him, and I closed in behind Brown—the prisoner then dropped a key and a Union Bank cheque at my feet, and the constable picked them up—the prisoner was sober.
HARRY RANDALL (202 E). On October 27th, about 1.15 a.m., I was in Chancery Lane, and heard someone call "Police!" in a very low voice, as if being strangled—I ran on, and on the left side I saw Mr. Pattison lying on his back, with his head towards a door, and the prisoner and two others leaning; over him—when I got within 20 yards they ran away—I kept my eyes on the prisoner, and never lost sight of him till he was stopped by the flusher on the same side of the road—he struggled at first; I got hold of him, and told him I should take him to the station for knocking the prosecutor down and taking things from his pocket—he made no reply—I found a half-crown and some papers on him—he appeared to hear perfectly well, and at the station also, and did not suggest that he was deaf—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. You were not knocked about at all—there was no sign of your mouth bleeding.
GEORGE GOWRING (213 E). On October 27th at 11.15, I was in Chancery Lane and heard a cry of "Help!" and "Police!"—Iran down the lane and saw the prisoner running towards Carey Street, and the prosecutor getting up from the ground on the opposite side of the road—I saw the prisoner stopped at the corner of Carey Street, he threw this key (Produced), and some twine up the steps of the bank—he was sober and answered the usual questions at the station; he did not appear deaf.
F. W. PATTISON (Re-examined). This is my key.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated upon oath that he was drunk, and knew nothing that happened to him till he awoke next morning and found his mouth bleeding and missed two teeth, and was taken to St. Bartholomew's Hospital; that he had had the misfortune to he in prison three or four times; and that the half-crown found on him was his own.
Evidence for the Defence.
CAROLINE NYE . I am single, and am a bronzer, of 36, Mitchell Street, St. Luke's—I was with the prisoner on Fish Street Hillat 8o'clock, and when I left him he was perfectly drunk—I went home to his mother, and told her that he would be home to his tea later on.
Cross-examined. I do not know where he lives, or what time he went to bed.
GUILTY . He then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction at Clerkenwell on June 1st, 1897, and three other convictions were proved against him— Three years' Penal Servitude.
The Court ordered a reward of £1 each to Brown and Charman.
MR. ROLAND Prosecuted. NOT GUILTY .
4. JAMES WINDSOR (29) and WILLIAM BONNICK (33) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing six ducks, the property of Herbert Smith, I having both been convicted at this Court on September 14th, 1897,— WINDSOR— Nine Months' Hard Labour. BONNICK— Six Months' Hard Labour.
6. WILLIAM HENRY JOHN WRIGHT (24) , to stealing whilst employed in the Post Office certain stamps and money, value £5, the property of the Postmaster-General; also to forging an order for the payment of £10, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Nine Months' Hard Labour.
7. GEORGE WILLIAM CHARLES MEARS (28) , to stealing whilst employed is the Post Office a post letter and two postal orders, the property of H.M. Postmaster-General.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
8. ARTHUR SMITH (22) , to stealing a Post-office Savings Bank deposit book, value 1s., the property of H.M. the Postmaster-General; also, to forging and uttering a request for £2 128. 6d., with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Four Months' Hard Labour. And
(9) FREDERICK WILLIAMS (32) , to stealing £3 15s. 6d., the money of Anderson, Anderson, and Anderson, his masters; also, to attempting to obtain by false pretences 60 ft. of hose from the same persons, having been convicted on June 16th, 1896. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Seven other convictions were proved against him.—Five Years' Penal Servitude ,
THIRD COURT.—Monday, November 20th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CATHERINE HAYES . I am a laundry woman, of 21, Portland Road, Kensington—I am 19 years old—I keep company with the prisoner—he is a brush-maker and umbrella seller—he is 20 years old—on November 11th I was with him in Portland Road, Notting Hill—this is my knife—I picked it up one morning, going to work—I cut some bread, and forget to shut it—the prisoner took it out of my pocket, and was going to do injury to himself when I took it away—he was jealous, because he saw me talking to another young chap—I tried to get the knife from him, and it fell against my side accidentally—we had both had a drop—I only had one garment on—it went through my apron, dress, petticoat and chemise—I had just a little scratch—I did not bleed much—I was examined by a doctor—my mother fetched the police—my parents are against the prisoner, and thought he had done it—I have worked all the week—this happened a week last Friday.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUMPHREYS Prosecuted.
HARRY ROCKEY . I am a stableman, of 2, Park Villa, Hanworth—on Monday night, October 16th, I was in the Reservoir Inn, Sunbury—I saw Oliver Venner—I left about 9.30 p.m.—I was going; home to Hanworth—when I had got about 150 yards away I was knocked down by Featherstone—I had been drinking with him—I never knew him before that evening—I felt a blow as if from a belt doubled, and something came across my eyes—I had a good sight of him; I cannot swear to the other one who was with him—when I fell he kicked me two or three times on my mouth—my lips were cut, and I was kicked on my head, and my right-hand pocket was cut or torn out, and 23s. taken—I gave information to the police the next morning—I am quite sure the prisoner knocked me down.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. It was moonlight—I saw your face, which was familiar from your drinking with me during the evening.
Reservoir Inn, Sunbury—Featherstone challenged Rockey to fight, and I went in that bar to try and quell the fight—Featherstone went out.
SARAH EVANS . I was assisting the landlady in the bar—I heard a conversation about fighting—the prisoner and Rockey were in drink, Rockey the most so—I refused to serve him—I had been told to do so—Rockey went out about 8.30 or 8.45 p.m., and Featherstone about 10.45 p.m., I cannot recollect the exact interval—there were a lot in the bar—Featherstone went out and came back again after Rockey left—he was not away a minute—he came back and stayed till closing time, 11 o'clock—Rockey had been in in the middle of the day the worse for drink, and I was told not to serve him, and as he was still the worse for drink I refused to serve him.
WILLIAM WARD (88 T). I am stationed at Sunbury—I arrested the prisoner from a description on the 17th—he said he knew nothing about it—I took him to the station—about 5.30 the following day Rockey saw him, with others similarly dressed—he took him by the coat and said, "That is the man who struck me."
The Prisoner, in his defence denied drinking with the prosecutor or robbing him, or knowing anything about it.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUMPHREYS offered no evidence
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KENRICK Prosecuted.
FREDERICK BAKER (102, City). On November 11th I was on duty in Fleet Street—I found the padlock missing from the front door of No. 70, Messrs. Sweeting's—I looked through the window with my light, and saw two men, who dodged behind a desk—I blew my whistle—the prisoner stood inside the door—on getting assistance I took him to the station—I had examined the premises 20 minutes previously—they were safe—the other man must have got away through the skylight—I found bloodstains on the stairs and on this jemmy (Produced).
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I found 4 1/2 d. on you at the station—I found no blood on your hands.
WILLIAM FULLER (7, City). About 2 a.m. on November 11th I was on duty in Ludgate Circus—I was summoned by a whistle—I met Baker coming towards me with the prisoner in custody at 70, Fleet Street—I examined the premises—I found these three waiters' gratuity boxes had been forced from the wall in the shop, and this padlock in a desk which had been broken open on the counter—10 1/2 d. in bronze was lying about the floor—an attempt had been made to force the cupboard, there were marks on it—on the counter I found this case-opener, and on the floor, where the desk was forced, this jemmy—this padlock has been forced, and the marks correspond with the case-opener—on the first floor I found the door leading into the dining-room locked on the inside—there was blood on it—the glass had been knocked out of the fan-light on the top
floor, and out of the skylight—there were marks of bleeding on the roofs of this and several premises adjoining.
WILLIAM ANDREW ROME . I am manager to my father of Messrs. Sweeting's business at 70, Fleet Street—on November 10th I left the premises about 8.30 securely fastened with this padlock on the door—the jemmy and case-opener are not mine—I left 5s. silver and 3s. in coppers, which was there the next morning, but the gratuity boxes had been emptied of between £2 and £3—that belongs to the waiters.
The Prisoner's in his defence stated that, seeing the door open so late, he went in to get refreshment, hut denied any knowledge of the robbery, and stated that the policeman must have mistaken his shadow for the other man.
GUILTY . Five other convictions were proved against him and he had 164 days still to serve.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 21st, 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. HUMPHREYS Defended.
JESSIE KATE HOUGHTON . I am the wife of Mr. Houghton, of Streatham Hill—on October 1st I bought a postal-order at the Streatham Hill Post Office, and made a note of the number—this is it (Produced)—I put it into an envelope addressed to the Star Furnishing Company, 167, Hornsey Road, Holloway, and posted it myself at Streatham Hill, the same evening; it bears the marks of that post-office.
Cross-examined. There was another envelope in it addressed to myself and a receipt in it.
Re-examined. The words 246, Hornsey Road and S. Beale were not on it when I sent it off.
GEORGE SHARP . I am overseer at Holloway sorting office—the prisoner was employed there as an auxiliary postman—a letter posted at Streatham on the evening of October 12th would arrive on October 13th, about 1 a.m., and on the 13th the prisoner was on duty till 7.12—he would have access to the letter in the course of sorting before he went away—this (Produced) is his signature.
Cross-examined. It would go to the General Post Office from Streatham, but it would not be stamped there—it would be in a bundle labelled "Northern District Office," and would be sorted to the sub-district post-office where he was employed—he was also employed as a letter deliverer—we had over 50 people on duty at 6 a.m., and half of them were employed in sorting and the prisoner was one of them—I do not know that he has been employed in the Post Office eight years—he was there two years ago, when I went there—it is about seven minutes' walk from there to the Hornsey Post Office.
By the COURT. If the postal order had not the name of any post-office it could be paid anywhere—269, Holloway Road is the nearest office; it is about three minutes off.
RICHARD WALTER DAVIS . I am an assistant in the Detective Department of the General Post Office—on October 13th I was with James keeping observation on the prisoner, who I knew well—he left at 5.15 p.m., walked to the Bank of England, and got into a tram car for Finsbury Park—I got in and sat on the same side, and James got on the top—the prisoner got out at Seven Sisters Road—I got out immediately behind him, and followed him to the post-office, about 15 yards off, where he filled in the name of the office and S. Steel—he was paid 2s.—James was standing outside the shop, but near the counter—the prisoner left, and I spoke to Mr. Miller, who gave me this order (Produced)—I reported the matter.
Cross-examined. This was about 6.45—I had been watching the prisoner three weeks, and had seen him several times leaving the Langbourne, where he is a waiter—he lives close to the Cattle Market—I got off the tram close to Hornsey Road, and about a mile from Holloway Road Railway Station—he got out of the tram at 6.49—I looked at my watch—I went into the post-office behind him, and saw what he was writing; 246, Hornsey Road, and the name of Seal—I did not follow him home—I did not see him till next day at the Post-office, when he was called up by Mr. Wynn.
Re-examined. I made my report the following day—I looked at my watch after the order had been cashed, and it was 6.45—I did not speak to Mr. Miller till after the prisoner left.
WALTER CHARLES JAMES . I am an assistant in the Detective Department of the General Post Office—I accompanied Davis on October 13th to the Langbourne Hotel, and saw the prisoner come out at 11 minutes to 6—I got outside the tram, and went to Seven Sisters Road, and got off and saw the prisoner go into the post-office—I waited outside, and saw him signing something—I did not follow him after that—I had known him for four days.
Cross-examined. I saw him leave the Langbourne between 5 and 6, and go to the railway station, and take a ticket. ROBERT PETERSON MILLER. I live at 246, Hornsey Road—I cashed it this order for 2s. on Friday, October 13th—I cannot say who cashed it, but a detective drew my attention to it, and I gave it to him to endorse.
Cross-examined. I saw the man write the order, but his back was towards me—he was in the shop three or four minutes—Davis asked me for some stamps, and I served him—I could not pick the man out—there is a wire screen—I could see a man's face if he was standing up writing, but not if he was stooping down.
FRANK WINT . I am a clerk in the General Post Office—I was instructed to investigate with regard to Holloway sorting office—on October 14th I saw the prisoner and said, "You changed that order at the Hornsey Road Post Office last night; where did you get it, and why did you cash it in a different name than your own"?—he said "This is the first I have seen of it"—I called in Davis, and asked him if he knew him: he said "Yes"—I said, "Did you see him go to the Post Office last night, and cash this
order?"—he said "Yes"—I asked if he had anything to say he said "I have nothing to say"—before October 28th arrived Mrs. Houghton had communicated with the Post Office, and I saw the prisoner again and said, "I have received an application from Mrs. Houghton posted on October 12th; have you anything further to say?"—he said "No; I can prove I was in the Cattle Market at five minutes to six"—the distance took me nineteen minutes, and coming back part of the way in a trend fourteen minutes."
Cross-examined. He emphatically denied having anything to do with the post-office—he stayed there while his house was being searched; he was not in custody—about 30 postal-orders have been stolen from the Holloway office—I asked the prisoner to write, "S. Seal, 246, Hornsey Road," on paper, and 20 or 30 other names which were on orders which I say had been stolen, and which I showed him first—he voluntarily did so—I submitted all the names he wrote to Mr. Murray, an expert of the Post Office, after the hearing at the Police-court—I did not refuse to let the prisoner's solicitor see the document—I was asked at the Police-court, but I had not got them—I did not think it was necessary to bring them—I had not got this list then; it relates to a number of other charges.
WILLIAM MACKINTYRE . This document relates to a number of postal Orders, the subject of inquiry—I did not put it in at all; I received this letter from Mr. Miller on November 9th and 10th, requesting the inspection of the document, and I gave it him at once (This requested him to call on Monday at 3 o'clock and impact the documents)—the prisoner's solicitor's clerk called, and I showed him these documents—he asked to see the postal orders—I did not show them because they had nothing to do with the case—the reason we did not produce them at Bow Street was because he was bound over, and I did not expect to be called again on Saturday.
Cross-examined. On the postal orders names appeared, the same names as on the other documents, I believe, and I refused to show them.
Cross-examined. I have had no reason to complain of him during the three years he has been there.
Cross-examined. I searched his house with Mr. Lytton—it took (me 19 minutes to walk from the Lion Hotel to the Cattle Market—I also tried it by going on the tram from the bottom of North Road, Caledonian Road, to 246, Hornsey Road—I waited four minutes for the car, and did it in 15 minutes—the result was that it took me the same time to walk on that occasion.
WILLIAM MURRAY . I am a travelling clerk in the General Post Office—I have had experience in the examination of handwriting for the last 10 years—this postal order and the signature "Sharp" in document B are both written by one and the same person—in the letter "H" in Holloway the second loop is very strikingly formed; it is similar to the "H" in
"Hornsey," and the capital "C" in "Charles" is similar to the second half of the letter "H"—there is a division between the "H" and the "o" in "Hornsey," and also between the "s" and the "ey"—there is the same character in the termination of the capital "S" in "Seal" and in "Scott"; they are the same—it is not an uncommon thing for persons not to join on the capital letters.
Cross-examined. The documents came into my possession some time in July—I cannot remember when the postal order came into my possession—I have made out a short written report of this particular case—I supplied it about a week or 10 days ago—I was supœnæed here as a witness—I formed my opinion in July—I had the other orders—I say the "H" in Hornsey is similar to that in document B, and that the capital "H's" in the signatures on this paper were written by the same person who wrote the "H" on the postal order—there are a number of capital "H's on this document; they are all written in exactly the same way—they are all written in a different way upon this order—on this document A there are 12 or 15 "t's," and they are all written in the same way—they have no cross to them; they are like a capital "A"—the two t's "on the postal order are made in a different way—I see here "246, Hornsey Road, N."—I notice the capital "N"—the capital "N" on document A, which the prisoner wrote, is totally different; in spite of that, I have no doubt that they were written by the name person.
Re-examined. Document B was filled in by the prisoner; it was made in the ordinary way of business by him, and I find that the "H" there corresponds with the "H" on the post-office order, and I find that on A, where the prisoner wrote down the names and addresses of people which he was asked to do, are all different.
By the COURT. I do not give evidence as an expert for fees; I am in the service of the Post Office.
The Prisoner in his defence on oath said that he did not cash the postal order; that on the 13th he went into the Cattle Market; that he went into the Lion public-house with Mr. Farrow the superintendent of the Queen's Arms Buildings, at 7 o'clock, and left at 7.16, after which he went home and changed his clothes and then went on duty at the Holloway Road Post Office and that he had never seen Davis or James.
Witness for the Defence.
WILLIAM FARROW . I am the superintendent of the Queen's Arms, Buildings, Cattle Market, Camden Town, which are the property of the Corporation of London—I have been employed by the Corporation for 17 years; the prisoner lives in the buildings—I know him and saw him on October 13th outside the Cattle Market gates—he said he was going into the market to buy a brush—I went in with him—he bought the brush, and then we went out of the market and into the Lion public-house—that was four or five minutes to 7—I next saw him on the Saturday in the evening—I was at Bow Street on the last hearing, but was not called.
Cross-examined. The prisoner told mo on the 14th that he had been taken to the chief, and had been accused of changing a lot of postal orders, and also of being watched from the restaurant, where he works, to the Hornsey Road Post Office, and changing one there for 2s. at 6.45—I said I could not believe that, because at four or five minutes to 7 I met him—I
was with him on the 13th to near about 7.15—I can fix the time because I had just asked a constable the time, and I heard the market clock strike.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday and Wednesday November 21st and 22nd, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Three convictions of felony were proved against her.— Twelve Months Hard Labour.
MR. POYSTER Prosecuted. FREDERICK MEAD (53 G). At midnight on Saturday, September 30th,. I was in Goswell Road—I heard screams, and cries of "Police!"—I went in that direction—I saw the prisoner on the top of Graney, with a knife in his hand, slashing at Graney's face—I knocked him off, and secured and held him till 14 G R came up—I said, "Look out, he has a knife in his hand"—he said, "Where is it?"—someone in the crowd said, "I think he put it in his pocket"—14 G R took this razor, closed, out of his left hand pocket; there were blood stains on it—he had been drinking, but knew what he was about—he became very violent and rushed at Graney again, and tried to kick him—on the way to the station the prisoner said, It is all through a young woman I was seeing home; he struck me with this piece of iron"—this cold chisel was in the street—when charged he said nothing—he gave his occupation as a clerk.
WILLIAM JOHN CLARK . I am a letter carrier; of 23, Great Sutton Street, Clerkenwell—on the last Saturday night in September I was walking home about 12.15 in Goswell Road, and I saw two men fighting, 15 to 20 yards off—I heard something about "Fight fair"—one took his coat off, and said, "I'll go one on you," and struck the other with a piece of iron—when nearer I saw Graney take the prisoner by his coat collar, he said, "You would use that, would you?"—the prisoner was showing; what I took to be a knife—Graney struck the prisoner on the side of the head two or three times with a piece of iron, and he fell—the prosecutor had been drinking; he slipped down, and the prisoner on the top of him, and used the knife—I was at his back—I could only see the blade—I saw the iron picked up—I went to the hospital with Graney.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The crowd were not threatening you but persuading you both to go away.
on October 1st—I saw the prisoner in the custody of two officers, and Clark assisting Graney—I took Graney to St. Bartholomew's Hospital—he was bleeding from his neck and hand, as if he had been out—Desmond was taken to the hospital—he was suffering from a wound just above his left temple, about 1 1/2 in. long, and two slight wounds on his right wrist—two stitches were put in the wound—when the prosecutor saw the prisoner outside the surgery he said, "Oh! you dirty tyke! If ever I live to get over this I will put you through it"—then the prisoner made an attempt to get at Graney, and said, "It is all very well for you, but have I got to sit and listen to this? Let me get out of this, and I will finish him off"—when Graney's wounds were dressed, he asked his wife to bring him some clean an clothes and said, "Mum's the word about this affair; you know nothing about it."
EDWARD S. E. EWER . As House Surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, I examined the prosecutor—he was suffering from an incised wound 4 1/2 in. long, 1/2 in. deep in places, extending 1/2 in. from the middle line at the back of his neck and curved to 1 in. below his left ear: a dangerous wound; also an incised wound 4 in long, in places l3rd in. deep, extending from the base of the dorsal surface of his little finger of the right hand to along the inner aspect of the dorsal part, curving round the inner side of the wrist to 1 in. above the wrist-joint—that may have been caused by keeping the razor from his throat—he is almost well—believe he had lost much blood, but I did pot sea him when he was brought in.
The Prosecutor did not appear.
The prisoner produced written defence stating that they quarrelled about a girl, and that he acted in self-defence by using the razor which he was taking to be ground, and that the prosecutor was a desperate character who had been in prison for cutting and wounding. NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. AVORY and SIDNEY Prosecuted, and MR. LEDER Defended.
JOSEPH MORGAN . I am an auctioneer and valuer, of Cannon Street, City—I became acquainted with the prisoners when they were employed by Mr. Catton, a promoter of public companies, of Victoria Street, West-minster—afterwards I casually met them several times—I had various business arrangements with Mr. Catton, including the Natural Bread and Tea Company, Limited—I was valuer only to the N. A. P. Bread Company, and obtained options on shops—it means the Natural Appetitising Palliative Company—in that company I only had business with Mr. Catton indirectly—I first saw the prisoners in connection with this case on Monday, October 16th, when they called at my office about 11.30 a.m.—they had called on October 9th, when my clerk saw them—I understand they are brothers—on October 16th I spoke to Charles—he said, "I wish to see you with reference to the Natural Bread and Tea Company, Limited, and the N.A.P. Bread Company"—I told him that I was only valuer, and with respect to any information he wanted he
should see the secretary of the Bread Company and the liquidator of the N.A.P. Company—he said he had already written to the liquidator, but could get no reply—I said I had been appointed by the liquidator to find a purchaser for the company, and that an advertisement would appear the next day in the London journals—Charles said, "We have come to inform you that an article is about to appear in the Financial Times and if you will get Mr. Catton or the liquidator of the Natural Appetising Palliative Company to pay us £10. the article will be kept out of the paper"—I went to the liquidator's office, and saw him and Mr. Catton—I referred to the Financial Times and saw an article referring to Morris Catton—I saw the prisoners at the Ludgate Hill buffet about 6.50 p.m. that evening—I was there, with Wilson, Taylor, and Ernest Moody—Charles called me aside, and, in the presence of Wharton, said, "What a pity it is you did not get Mr. Catton to pay the £10 to keep the article out of today's issue of the Financial Times!"—Whartonljoined in the conversation, but I did not notice much what he said—Charles then said the Financial News were going for me tooth and nail—I understood from that that an article was prepared derogatory to me—I called my friends, first Mr. Taylor, who was about a yard away, and said, "This man has made a statement that the Financial News are going for me tooth and nail"—Charles said, "Yes, Mr. Willett, and they will have to go for you afterwards"—I said, "This is not Mr. Willett; this is Mr. Taylor, of Taylor, Willett, and Co."—they are chartered accountants in the City of the Natural Bread and Tea Company—Mr. Taylor said, "This is a sort of business which is not honest, Mr. Morgan; come away and catch your train"—I went and caught my train—the next morning, the 18th, both prisoners called about 10.40, and I again saw them in the lobby of my office, which is on the ground floor—I think I had a client inside—Charles was again the spokesman—he said, he had called with respect to the Natural Bread and Tea Company, and that an article had been prepared for the Financial News who had sent him to my office, and that if I would pay him on their behalf £10, the article, which was in the office of the Argus Printing Company, would be kept out of the paper—the Argus Printing Company are printers of the Financial News—I was taken aback, but I said, "I am going to London Bridge to meet the Brighton train, which comes some minutes past 11; I will call on my way back, about 11.45, and see you"—they said the article was derogatory to me as a professional man and a valuer of companies, and Wharton said, "You don't want your name brought out in the paper"—on my return from London Bridge I called and made a communication to Mr. Reardon—I immediately went to the Financial News office and saw Mr. Knapp—I made inquiries—the same Mr. Moody was with me who was with me at Ludgate Hill—I took out two £5 notes in front of Mr. Knapp, and took their numbers on my office card, and instructed Mr. Moody to go to my solicitor—I reached my office about 12 o'clock—I met the two Flacks coming, one in one entrance and the other in the other I—asked them in—I asked if they had been to the Financial News—they said, Yes, and that instead of £10 being required, £5 would be sufficient—I offered one £5 note to Charles, and then put it on my table—he said, "Put the note in your pocket for the present, and come out
and have a drink"—I went out with them to the Queen's Arms, Queen Street, Cheapside, a restaurant about, a stone's throw from the office—I saw following the gentleman I had arranged to follow—we went into a square lobby that would hold about three people with a glass partition—I called for three drinks, and paid with a two-shilling piece—Charles said, "Before I take this £5 of you, Mr. Morgan the Financial News want to know what connection you had with the National Stores, Limited"—that was a grocery business—he took paper and a pencil from his pocket—I told him I was an underwriter for that company for 1,000 shares, and that I had got stuck for £600; that means that capital was not taken up; they were £1 shares;. and that the company were claiming; £650, including valuation fees—he made a memorandum and put the piece of paper in his pocket, and said to his brother Wharton," I think there is an explanation as regards Mr. Morgan's connection with the National Stores, Limited, and we will take the £5"—I delayed, but in a threatening way he said,** Well, unless you pay this £5, Mr. Morgan, it is going to appear; it is already in type"—I then took out of my pocket and gave to him the same £5 note I had produced at the Financial News office—he took it, but said, "We must take gold to the Financial News; let us have a drink"—I said, "No; I must get back to the office"—I went out; they followed—I beckoned to my friends, the solicitor's clerk, Mr. Beardon, and others—I said, "This man has obtained £5 by false pretences "or" by blackmail"—we walked them into Cloak Lane Police-station—I mentioned the case to the Inspector and gave him she numbers of the notes.
Cross-examined. Mr. Catton, besides other businesses, is an advertisement contractor—if he is "Morris and Co." that is news to me—the prisoner stated they were outside canvassers for the Westminster Gazette—I heard Wharton's statement at the Mansion House that he was in the Army Reserve—I met Mr. Catton eight or nine months ago—I was not employed by him—I have only seen the article of October 17th about the N.A.P. Company—I have been paid by the Matural Bread Company partly in cash and partly in shares—I never discussed with Charles about the article—I never said to Charles, "I suppose you have had a hand in this; I suppose you put it up for me"—my business was with the company I valued for, not with Catton—I saw Catton and directors at his premises—I received about £100 for my valuation, a little more or less; more than £10—I had nothing to do with the N. A.P. company—the prisoners coming to me struck me as peculiar—I looked upon them as black-mailers and impostors—I thought they were doing a wicked thing—they said they thought they could get a purchaser for the assets of the N.AP. Company—nothing was said about the mortgage, nor that £12,000 was absurd, as they were bought for £,4000—I never said, "Taylor and 1 are good for a fiver if you can keep the article out"—they never said, "We cannot do anything in the matter"—I instructed Horncastle's as to advertisements—Charles did not say, "If you want me to help you I can arrange to get you a paragraph in the Financial Times and in the Financial News, under the heading of 'Points'"—I know Catton's clerk, Rainbow—he never worked for me.
Re-examined. My business with the prisoner had nothing to do with,
advertisements—I gave my advertisements to Homcastle's, my agents—a copy of the Financial Times was found on the prisoners when searched; also the piece of paper with the remarks made at the public-house—those were before the Lord Mayor—the prisoners were represented by Counsel—there was no cross-examination—none of the suggestions in cross-examination have before been made to me.
WALTER RODEN . I am Secretary of the Financial Times—looking at the issue of October 17th, I can say the prisoners had nothing to do with the article, "A Bad Nap Hand"—the prisoners are unknown to the staff of the paper—I do not think they could ever have known of it—several articles have appeared with regard to the Natural Bread and Tea Company, on February 7th and (ther times—an article would not have been kept out for money.
ALFRED WILLIAM KNAPP . I am Manager of the Publishing Department of the Financial News—I know the prisoners in the City as advertisement agents—they are in no way connected with the staff of the paper—on October 18th there was no intention to publish an article on Mr. Morgan—the prisoners had no authority to say there was such an intention, nor to propose to keep out such an article on payment of money—I had no communication with them about October 18th in reference to Mr. Morgan, nor as to accepting £10 or £5—Mr. Morgan called on October 18th, and made inquiries—he produced two £5 notes, and took their numbers on his card about 11.40.
Cross-examined. Mr. Miles is our business manager—we have a list of agents in our ledger—Charles Flack is an advertisement agent—we allow 10 per cent, on advertisements—he has been known to us four years—he used to come for Morris and Co.—commissions were due on Hercules Soap, and other advertisements—I know nothing of Charles Flack's connection with "Points;" but the editorial manager is here, Mr. Powell—I do not know of a charge of 10s. a line.
HENRY THOMAS HARDY . I am a clerk to Mr. Morgan—I keep the call-book—On October 9th the prisoners called to see Mr. Morgan, as it would be something to his advantage—I asked them to put what they wanted in writing—they left a note in pencil that they would make an appointment for Wednesday, 11th—they came on the 11th—Mr. Morgan was not in—they said they would take their chance—they called again on Monday, 16th—I entered the calls—on the 18th they called at 11.45; they had been in previously—Mr. Morgan asked them if they had been to the Financial News—they said Yes, and that they could arrange it for £5—Charles spoke, the other Flack standing by—Mr. Morgan took a £5 note from his purse and offered it to Charles, who said, "Not now; put it back iu your pocket, and come out and have a drink"—they went out.
Cross-examined. I did routine office work—there are two tables within 2 ft. of each other—there is a lobby—there is a partition—we have 12 or even 20 callers when we are busy.
ERNEST MOONEY . I am a dental assistant—I am an acquaintance of Mr. Morgan—I was with him and Mr. Taylor on October 17th at Ludgate Hill Station bar—the prisoners called Taylor over in the name of Willett, but found he was not Willett, but Taylor, and said the Financial Times
and Financial News were going for him next—Mr. Morgan was anxious that I and Taylor should hear what was said—I was standing with my back towards the door, Mr. Taylor next, and Mr. Morgan next, then the prismers, about a yard apart—Charles said the Financial News was going for Mr. Morgan tooth and nail, and his brother said, "And Mr. Tayior next"—Mr. Taylor said, "Come away; don't hare anything to do with the scoundrels."
Cross-examined. I was first spoken to about this by Mr. Taylor or the solicitor—Mr. Morgan did not say, "I suppose the Financial News will be going for me next," so far as I know—the whole proceedings only lasted about three minutes.
Re-examined. I followed the prisoners with the solicitor's clerk on the 18th, at Mr. Morgan's request, to the Police-station.
JOSEPH WILSON TAYLOR . I am a chartered accountant, of Bush Lane, City—I was with Mr. Morgan on October 17th, at the Ludgate Hill buffet, about 6.50 p.m.—the prisoners were about 3 ft. away—Mr. Morgan went to them—I overheard Charles use some words about the Financial News going to make it hot for Mr. Morgan—he beckoned me over and said, "And you too, Mr. Willett"—I said my name was Taylor—I said to Mr. Morgan, "Come away, it is not honest," and walked out of the place.
Cross-examined. I was not called upon to give evidence till two or three days ago.
Re-examined. I heard on the afternoon of the 18th that the prisoners had been given into custody.
SAMUEL BACON (City Detective Sergeant), About 1 p.m. on October 18th I saw the prisoners in the dock at Cloak Lane Police-station—the inspector instructed me to take the charge—Mr. Morgan charged them with obtaining £5 by false pretences—the Inspector handed me this £5 note in the prisoners' presence, which he said he had received from Charles—when the charge was read over Charles said, "I have never demanded or asked for any money for Mr. Knapp; Mr. Powell is the man you ought to have seen"—I asked Charles to wait for me to write down what he had to say, but he kept on in such a manner, I found it was impossible to put it all down—I searched the prisoners—on Charles I found a half-penny, a copy of the Financial Times of October 17th, and letters and memoranda not connected with this case—on Wharton I found 9d. and letters and memoranda, but nothing to do with the case—there is one memorandum Mr. Morgan has identified.
Charles Frederick Flack, in his defencey on oath said that he was canvassing for advertisements and for paid paragraphs, under the head of "Points," when Mr. Morgan first mentioned the derogatory article, but he had no intention to defraud or blackmail
Wharton Flack in his defence, on oath said that he merely accompanied his brother as a friend but had nothing to do with the transactions.
CHARLES FREDERICK FLACK— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. WHARTON FLACK— NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 22nd, 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
20. ANTHONY GEORGE FITZHERBERT ADAMS (32), otherwise THOMAS PERRIN , PLEADED GUILTY to uttering two cheques for £860 and £630, with intent to defraud; having been convicted on February 15th, 1898.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
21. HAROLD MACGREGOR HUGHES (34) , to stealing £400, the moneys of the London and Midland Bank, his masters: also to falsifying and tearing up the cashier's money balance-book.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
(22) CHARLES BUTLER (65) , to obtaining credit for £10 by false pretences; having been convicted on October 22nd, 1888, at this Court, when he was sentenced to 14 years* penal servitude. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Three other convictions were proved against him, and he had three years still to serve— Three Days' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 23rd, 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BROMLEY Prosecuted.
DAVIDSON— GUILTY .— Eight Months' Bard Labour. CAWSLEY— GUILTY Strongly recommended to mercy by the . JURY— To enter into Recognizances.
CHARLES TAYLOR . I am a labourer, of 3, Bryant Place, Caledonian Road—on November 4th, between 8.30 and 8.40, I was going by Copenhagen Street, with my mother and my friend Holland and his young woman, Florence Staines—my mother and his young woman were walking behind us; the prisoners spoke to them, but I could not hear what they said, and then they came behind me, and Williams struck me, but never said a word—he threw me down and put his hand in my pocket and took my money, 19s. 5 1/2 d.; a policeman came up and took him into custody—Williams handed the money to Bentley, who was standing by while Williams was leaning over me—Bentley gave it to a third man, who ran away—I called for help, and Williams hit my friend's young woman and kicked her behind—I did not see Bentley strike anybody.
Crossexamined by Williams. I saw the kicking, but I did not see the young woman struck—there were three of you—you deliberately came behind me and struck me—I never saw you before—I did not strike you on your face.
(The Prisoner Bentley being too deaf to hear the evidence, the COURT instructed MR. PASSMORE to defend him, upon which the prosecutor repeated his evidence.)
Cross-examined by MR. PASSMORE. Bentley used no violence—there were not many people in Copenhagen Street—there was no fight between Holland and Williams.
EDWARD HOLLAND . I am a bricklayer, of 3, Bryant Place, Caledonian Boad—on November 4th I was with Taylor, and his mother and Florence Staines, going up Copenhagen Street—there were not many people about—Charles Taylor and I were walking in front and the two women behind—the prisoners came up and spoke to Taylor's mother three times—the women did not take any notice—Williams came up behind and struck Taylor a blow in his eye—he fell, and Williams put his hand into his pockety and took some money out, which fell in the street—Williams struck Staines on her noie, and made it bleed—there had been no fight before that—I took off my coat then—when Williams took the money from Taylor ho passed it to his friend, who ran away.
Cross-examined by MR. PASSMORE. I did not see Bentley strike the prosecutor—I said that the money was passed when 1 was at the Police-court.
EMMA OBEY . I live at 3, Bryant Place, Caledonian Road—my ton, Charles Taylor, lives there with me—on this night the four of us were walking up Copenhagen Street between 8.30 and 8.45—the two men were in front, and I was behind, with Florence Staines—Williams came up and spoke to me three times in indecent language—I took no notice of it, and he left me and struck my son, who fell down—Williams put his hand into my son's pocket, and took out some money, which he gave to the other prisoner, who ran away—I screamed out "Police!"—I heard some of the money drop, and a key, and Miss Staines picked up 3s. 4 1/2 d.—there was no fight between Holland and Williams, or between Holland and Bentley—Williams did not say anything when he struck my son—I saw Williams strike Staines.
Cross-examined by MR. PASSMORE. I saw the money passed to Bentley, who gave it to another man, who ran down the hill—I was at the Police-station when the prisoners were there—I did not say to the policeman, "Turn this man outside; he does not know anything about it," meaning Bentley—I said, "He is the man who had the money."
FLORENCE STAINES . I am single, and live at Anderspn's Cottages, Baker Street, Enfield Town—on this night I was walking with Mrs. Taylor in Copenhagen Street; the two young men were in front; Williams spoke to me three times in insulting language—there were two men with him; we did not take any notice of them; then he passed in front. of me up to the two men in front, and struck Taylor from behind unawares—Taylor had not spoken to. him; there was no fight between them—I do not think that Taylor or Holland knew that Williams had been speaking to me—Mrs. Obey and I were not far behind the two young men—Williams fell on top of Taylor, and I saw him put his hand into his pocket and rob him—he gave the money to another man, who gave it to a third, and he ran down the hill—I heard some money drop, and I picked it up—Williams pulled off my cape and brooch, and punched me on the side of my nose, and made it bleed—I lost my brooch.
Cross-examined by Williams. You hit me on my nose; it was bleeding when the policeman came up.
Cross-examined by MR. PASSMORE. I am quite sure that Bentley is the man the money was passed to—he did not hit me.
JOHN YEWEN (368 J). On this night I was in Copenhagen Street—I saw the prisoners—Williams was fighting with Holland—I went up to separate them—I got hold of Williams, and Taylor wished to charge them for assaulting and robbing him—I took Williams to the station—when I got there I saw Bentley standing outside, and the lady witnesses identified him as the man to whom Williams passed the money—when the prisoners were charged they denied it.
Cross-examined by Williams. Bentley was not taken to the station; he followed us.
Cross-examined by MR. PASSMORE, It was not 20 minutes before Bentley was charged after he was arrested—he asked how it was that he came to be locked up, and he was told.
Re-examined. I do not remember anybody saying, "This man knows nothing about it, and it is no good taking him."
By the COURT. The evidence had to be repeated to the prisoner before the Magistrate.
The prisoner's statements before the Magistrate: Williams says: "It is false"; Bentley said: He only came up as a witness, and afterwards stood outside with the two ladies who said to the policeman, "This man knows nothing about it; turn him out; that he asked the sergeant if he knew him, and he said he had never seen him before.
Williams, in his defence on his oath said that he was going up Copenhagen Street, and as he passed the women he knocked up against Staines, and turned to beg her pardon, when Holland came up and wanted to know why lie pushed her, and hit him on the forehead, and he (the prisoner) hit him back; that Taylor then came up, and Holland took his coat off and they both "came for him;" that he hit Taylor in the eye; that the police came up, and Taylor said he unshed to give the prisoner in charge for hitting him, but did not mention anything about any robbery; that he saw Bentley, who was a stranger to him, in the crowd, and asked him to come as a witness; that he was taken into custody for disorderly conduct, and that not a word was said about the robbery at the station.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, November 24th, 1899.
Before Mr. Justice Barling.
MESSRS. BODKIN and BIRON Prosecuted, and DR. COUNSELL Defended.
LOUISA ATTERIDGE . I am 13 years old, and live with my mother and little sister at 1, Stephen Street—the prisoner is my step-father—we lived in the back room on the second floor—up to October 21st my step-brother, Dennis O'Connor, the deceased, was living in the same room; he was a porter, and about 22 years old—the prisoner is a shoemaker, and used to work at home—he had a shoemaker's bench and tools in the room—I was at home on Saturday night, Ocotober 218t, when my brother, the deceased, and the prisoner came in about midnight—the prisoner seemed to me to be sober—the deceased staggered as he came into the room; I think that was from drink—after they got into the room, the prisoner said to the deceased," You must get lodgings"—the deceased got up and knocked the prisoner down—I did not see Dennis with anything in his hand—my father was lying on the bed after he was hit—then Dennis got up and pulled a knife out of his pocket and opened it, and said to my father, "I will do you in before the night is over"—he shut the knife and put it into his right-hand trousers pocket, and went to the door, and put on bis cap and coat, and went outside and picked up an empty water can, and struck my father, who got out of the bed, and Dennis punched him with his hand on his head—then my father sat on a chair—Dennis went to the door, and my father said, "Dennie, stop it; we want no row; we have not been in the house long"—he then got up and went to the shoemaker's bench, and I heard the tools rattle, but I cannot say what he picked up—Dennis was standing at the door, but when I heard the tools rattle he ran out on to the landing—the door of the room was open—I stopped in the room—my father went out, and I heard them talking on the landing, but I could not hear what was said—I then heard a noise, as if someone was falling down the stairs—I went on to the landing—we have a lamp; it was not alight then, but I had a candle in my hand—I saw father lying on his back on the half landing, not the one outside our room—Dennis was bending down, hitting him; I cannot say what with—I do not know how many times he hit him—then Dennis got up and ran downstairs, my father followed him—at the bottom of the stairs there is a passage and then the street door—it is not locked, it has not got a lock—I heard Dennis walking in the passage, then I heard him holloa out, "Oh, my God!"—I could not see them from where I was standing—then I heard the street door shut, then I heard it open again and shut again—I ran back into our room, and then my mother, my little sister and myself went down—my mother went first, and went right down to the basement, and just as she got down father came upstairs—he had this shoemaker's knife in his hand (produced)—it was kept among the other tools on the bench—he did not speak to me; he went into the room—I went downstairs into the passage, opened the door, and looked into the street—I saw Dennis lying in the road, and a man named Wilding and two or three others standing over him—Wilding had just taken a whistle out of his pocket, which he blew—Dennis was lifted up by some men, and was afterwards taken to the hospital—I went with him and my little sister—this claspknife
(Produced) belonged to Dennis—this other one was my father's; it is the one I saw him carrying.
Cross-examined. Dennis had been living in oar room for some time; I cannot say how long—he had been working at Greet Street as a porter—before that he had been away with my brother—Dennis had been in the Army, but he left; I do not know why—I saw my father bleeding from a cut about three weeks before this—when Dennis and my father came in on this night my mother came in with them—father did not fall on to the bed till he was struck with the water can—we all slept in that room—I had never heard my father object to Dennis sleeping there till that night—there were only two beds in the room—when I met my father on the stairs I had a candle, and when I got down into the street I blew it out, and put it into my pocket.
ELEANOR O'CONNOR . I live at 32, Goldsmith Buildings, Drury Lane—my husband is William O'Connor, and is the prisoner's son and the deceased's brother—he is an Army Reserve man, and has gone to the Cape—before he went he gave his brother this knife (Produced)—on October 21st I remember seeing Dennis about 7.30 p.m. on Waterloo Bridge—while speaking to him he showed me this knife, and made a statement to me about what he was going to do—he was not exactly sober; he had been drinking.
Cross-examined. My husband is in the East Surrey Regiment, and he sailed on October 20th; he left home on the 17th—the prisoner and Dennis and I and other friends saw him off—after he went the prisoner had been drinking up to the night of this occurrence, but Dennis had been at work—my husband is a corporal—when I met Dennis on Waterloo Bridge he said, "If father starts on me again today I will do him in, and this is the article I will do it with"—the prisoner did not like Dennis sleeping in the same room—he said it was a shame for a man like him to be sleeping in the same room, instead of getting lodgings—Dennis had been in the Army—he left it because he struck his colour-sergeant—he only got discharged; nothing else—he was a strong man.
HAROLD WILDING . I am a french polisher, of 3, Gumming Street, Pentonville—about 1.15 on the morning of October 22nd I was passing Cressy Street, and opposite a turning into Stephen Street—when I was opposite 1, Stephen Street, I heard a noise as if someone was falling downtairs—the street door was shut—I heard a voice say, "Father, you have got something in your hand"—I heard another voice say, "So have you"—the first voice replied, "No, I have not; I will strike a light"—I cannot say for certain whether a light was struck—then I heard the first voice say, "You call yourself an Irishman, you have one hand behind your back"—then I heard a rush and a scuffle down the passage and behind the door; just afterwards the deceased rushed out into the road way, about three or four yards from the pavement and fell down; then the prisoner rushed out and dropped down on one knee by the side of the deceased, and struck him several times—the deceased was still on the ground, lying partly on his side and partly on his stomach—I could not see what the prisoner struck him with; he was using the right hand and striking him downwards; I cannot say how many times, but several times—I should have put it at a dozen, but I know now that it was not so many—the deceased cried,
"Oh, father! oh, my God!"—that was all I heard him say—then the prisoner stood up, and as he was getting up he said: "That is what I have got"—he turned to look at me for an instant, and then turned back and kicked the deceased on the head; he then ran indoors into No. 1—I had a whistle which 1 blew, and P.C. Nicholls came up—I afterwards went to the Police-station, where I made a statement as to what I had seen—the prisoner was present—he could hear what I said.
Cross-examined. When I heard the scuffling; behind the door I do not think it could have been on the second floor—I blew my whistle just after the prisoner had gone indoors—I should think the prisoner was by the deceased about a minute or half a minute.
WILLIAM HERBERT READ . I live at King's Cross, and am a process server—I remember being in Stephen Street on the morning of the 22nd a little after 1 a.m., and hearing a whistle, I went to the place, and saw the prisoner on his knees over the deceased, striking him with his right hand—the deceased lay quite still—he said something, but I could not say what it was—I saw the prisoner kick him, but I could not see where—I saw the deceased taken to the Middlesex Hospital.
JOHN NICHOLLS (446 D). I was on duty on the morning of October 22nd, a little after 1, in Tottenham Court Road, and, hearing a whistle blown in Stephen Street, I ran there, where I saw Mr. Wilding, who spoke to me, and pointed out a pool of blood in the road opposite I, Stephen Street—in consequence of what he said I went into No. 1—I met the prisoner on the stairs, coming down—I said to him, "Where are you going? Are you the father?"—he replied, "Yes"—I said, "Where is your son?"—he said, "I don't know, nor b—y well care"—there was blood on his hands and clothing—I said, "How can you account for this?"—it was wet—he said, "My son upset me, and I gave him something in return, and another thing, I don't b—y well care how or where he is"—Constable Emery then came, and we went upstairs into the second-floor room; we took the prisoner up, too—he made no statement about the room—then he was taken to the station by Emery—I went to the Middlesex Hospital, and saw the deceased being examined by the house-surgeon—I searched the pockets of the deceased—I put my hand into his right-hand, trousers ppcket, where I found this clasp-knife (Produced)—my hand was covered with blood when I took it out of the pocket—the knife was closed, as it is now—I opened it—the handle and the blade were smeared with blood—the pocket was saturated with blood—I went back to 1, Stephen Street, and examined the passage from the streelfdoor to the staircase—on the right side of the street door, outside, I found some wet blood—inside on the left, as I went in, there was an impression to a hand, and that was covered with blood—on the floor there were spots of blood, and at the back of the door, close to the hinge, there was a small pool of blood—on the wainscosting opposite there were streaks of blood—the prisoner appeared to be sober—the same evening I took the coat which the prisoner was wearing, and showed it to Dr. Wills.
Cross-examined. I have got a coat and vest of the deceased's, not the trousers—on my return to the hospital the doctor had destroyed them on
account of their state—I cannot say if the prisoner had been drinking or not.
JOHN EMERY (114 D). On the early morning of the 22nd I went to 1, Stephen Street, where I found the prisoner in custody—I took him to the station, and then returned to 1, Stephen Street—I went up to the second floor—I saw spots of blood and stains along the passage—I went into the room, and saw the little girl, Louisa, and the prisoner's wife—I saw a shoemaker's bench—I searched among the tools there, and found this knife behind a bench on the floor—it had blood on the blade.
ALFRED BOOTHMAN (Inspector, D). I was on duty at Tottenham Court Road Station on the morning of October 22nd when the prisoner was brought with Wilding and Read—they both made statements in the prisoner's hearing—when they had finished the prisoner said, "I did not use a knife; I only kicked him"—I gave some directions to Emery, and he went away and returned with this knife—I then went to the Middlesex Hospital, and saw Dennis—I returned to the station, and charged the prisoner with feloniously wounding his son—in reply to the charge, he said, "I am sorry, but I never used a knife; I will acknow-ledge I kicked him and knocked him down"—I examined him, and found over his left brow a slight graze, about 1/2 in. long and 1/16 in. wide; there was just an effusion of blood on the surface—I think ir had been caused by a slight grazing blow—it was very slight, just grazing the surface—a thumb-nail might have caused it—on the back of the neck on the left side there was a scar perfectly healed, about 2 in. long, apparently a cut; it was some weeks or months old—there were no marks behind his ears or on the scalp—he said the old wound on his neck was caused in a row a few weeks before with his sons.
ROBERT SHANNON (Chief Inspector, D). At 8.30 on October 22nd I saw the prisoner at the Tottenham Court Road Station—by that time the deceased had died—I said to the prisoner, "You have been already charged with feloniously wounding your son," and I produced this knife to him; "it is alleged that you caused the wounds with this knife; your son has since died, and I have seen his dead body at the hospital, and you will now be charged with the wilful murder of your son"—he replied, "I did not use a knife on him"—I pointed to the blood on his coat, that I had had removed from him—he said, "I did not use a knife on him, and the blood on my coat was caused by an old wound about two months ago; I did not clean the blood off, as the coat was not worth it."
JAMES GREDLIT WILLS . I am House Surgeon at Middlesex Hospital, and about 1.30 a.m. on October 22nd the deceased was brought in in a collapsed condition, hardly sensible and bleeding freely—there was a great deal of blood on his clothes—Nicholls searched his clothes, and in doing so his hands got very wet with blood—I saw him pull, out this knife from the deceased's pocket—the deceased's trousers were taken away, and as they were in too dirty a state to be used again, they were destroyed—the jacket and vest are in Court—I treated the deceased, but he died about six the same morning—I made a post-mortem on Tuesday, the 24th—the cause of death was haemorrhage resulting from the wounds—the body was in a healthy condition—he was a powerfully builtman—I found 10 wounds; they might have been caused by this shoemaker's knife—the first wound was
a superficial wound on the angle of his left eye, another below it, a third in front of the lower part of the left ear; the direction of that was backwards and upwards; it was 2 in. deep and about 3/4 in. long; it divided an important vein of the neck; a fourth on the right of the middle line of the neck, 1/2 in. long, passing upwards and downwards, and 2 1/2 in. deep; that also divided a large vein in the neck—the fifth was a superficial wound on the left hand; another, an incised wound 2 1/2 in. long, at the back of the head—the next, a similar one, 23/4 in. long, cutting through the scalp, and just above the last wound; it was a punctured wound, and had gone through the scalp—on the back of the body there were three wounds; one a superficial wound at the top of the shoulderblade on the left, another punctured wound below the left shoulderblade, which penetrated into the chest on the left side, and wounded the left lung; that was a very serious one—on the middle line of the back there was another punctured wound, about 3 in. long, which nearly penetrated the right side of the chest—there was a breaking of the skin on the bridge of the nose; that, I think, was not caused by a knife; it might have been caused by a fall or a blow with a blunt instrument, such as a boot—I did not form any opinion as to the sequence of the wounds—I think they were caused within a very short time of each other—I think the wound just below the left ear might by itself have been fatal—I have heard of the position in which the prisoner and the deceased were; that wound might have been caused while they were in that position—the wound on the middle of the neck might have been fatal alone, and also the wound in the back, which injured the lung; that could have been caused by the prisoner while the deceased was in the position described, and I say also the same thing in regard to the wound on the right side of his neck—severe hemorrhage would result from the wounds on the face—I did not go to 1, Stephen Street.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have no statement to make, except that I do not remember using the knife."
GUILTY of Manslaughter ,— Seven Years' Penal Servitude ,
MR. COHEN Prosecuted, and MR. OLDFIRLD Defended,
ELIZABETH SHORE . I live in Shepperton Road, Islington—on October 16, at 11.15 p.m., I was with William Burke—we went into the Variety public-house, in Hoxton, where I saw the three prisoners—I knew them previously—Burke called for a glass of bitter and a glass of sherry—Connor said to Burke, "Are you come for a row with me?"—Burke said: "I want nothing to say to you"—while Connor was speaking to Burke Horrigan and Berry went outside; then Berry came in with a chopper—he did not say anything, but he hit him on the side of the ear with the chopper, and made his ear bleed—Burke had a hat on, and it cut his hat—there were about six of them altogether, and they all went away together, and I and Burke came outside—I asked him to take a cab, but he said he would not, and we went towards Brunswick Place, to go home—he was not insensible
then; we came out shortly after the men left—Brunswick Place is about two minutes' walk from the Variety—just before we got to the King's Arms I looked back, and saw the prisoners and some others following us—I said "Go in here," meaning the King's Arms, to get out of the way—he went in—I went up to Connor, and asked him not to cause any more raw, for the sake of me and my children—he said, "He has asked for it; now he will get it!"—while I was speaking to him the others rushed into the King's Arms—then I saw Connor go in, and I rushed in after him—I saw Burke struggling with Berry and Horrigan—Burke was bleeding from the head—I saw Connor strike Burke—I cannot say whether it was with a hammer or a chopper, but it was some instrument—Burke fell on the floor insensible—while he was on the floor I saw Horrigan and Connor strike him on the face—I picked up a glass, and told them that if they hit him any more I should aim it at them—they did not hit him, but they said if I did not put it down they would make me eat it—I had known them for years—the prisoners went away—the publican blew a whistle, and the police came—Burke was taken to the hospital, and I went with him.
Cross-examined. I have made an additional statement to the police—when I first saw the prisoners in the Variety bar I believe they were standing against the partition, when I came in with Burke—I expect they had some whisky by their side—I did not look—I do not think it was more than three minutes from the time that we ordered our drinks till Connor came and spoke to Burke—Connor did not cross the room; he stood in a corner, and Burke was quite close to him—while Connor was speaking to him the other two prisoners went outside—they went out when Burke was calling for the drinks—when Connor spoke to Burke, Burke said he did not want to have no "say" with him—I did not see a knife at that time in Burke's hand—he never had any knife, I can swear it—he did not say, "Don't speak to me, or I will serve you the same as Volkes"—Volkes' name was not mentioned—I know a man named Volkes—I do not know whether Burke had seen him lately—I do not know if he is a friend of Burke's—the prisoners are supposed to be Burke's friends as well—the two other prisoners rushed in, and Berry struck Burke on the head with a chopper—they came in, and without a single word struck him on the head, and knocked him on the floor—he got up, and went outside, and the prisoners went away—the blow hurt Burke—I gave evidence at the Police-court—I said there, "Berry hit Burke on the head with a hammer or something; he had a hat on, but it did not hurt him"—I also said that Burke said that he did not wish to hurt the prisoners—I said that because Burke told me not to say any thing—I have had a conversation with Burke about the evidence I was to give, and also one since I gave evidence at the Police-court—I live with him—he said I was to tell the truth—I did not tell the truth before; I did not have the chance—this is the proper evidence that I give now—the police came to my place on Saturday night, and told me to tell the truth in this case—they knew that I had not told the truth—I did not see the prisoners after we left the Variety bar till we were going down Brunswick Place—after Burke had gone into the King's Arms, I did not see anybody else go in before the three prisoners—I said at the Police-court, "Three men ran in"; that is false—I did not say, "I followed them
in"—when I went in two of the prisners were in there—I do not mean that every word of my evidence at the Police-court is untrue—every word as to what happened in the Variety bar was true.
By the COURT. Burke is a tailor, but he only came out from 18 months' imprisonment on the same morning—I do not know what Berry is—they all get their living in the same way as Burke—they have known one another for over 10 years—they do not get their living as tailors; they are all thieves.
WILLIAM BURKE . I am a tailor, of 47, Shepperton Road, Islington—I have known the prisoners for years—on Monday, October 16th, I was with the last witness about 10 p.m., in the Variety bar, in Hoxton—I saw Connor there—he said to me, "Here, Bill, I want to speak to you"—I said, "What is it?"—he said, "Is that right you are going to have a row with me?"—I said, "Certainly not; I want nothing to say to you"—I walked away—I did not see the other two men; then I was struck on the right ear from behind; my hat was, cut right through—I did not see who assailed me—I did not see the weapon with which I was struck—it must have been a weapon and not a man's hand, because I was knocked insensible—I fell down, and after a time came back to consciousness—I was in pain then—I asked the last witness who had done it, and we went outside—before we went out I saw that Connor had disappeared—we went into Brunswick Place, and I saw the three prisoners coming up behind us—I went into the King's Arms—Horrigan came in first, then Berry,. and then Connor—Horrigan was carrying a small chopper, Connor was carrying a decent-sized chopper, and Berry a plasterer's hammer—they did not speak to me—Horrigan struck me with his chopper on my head through my hat—it cut my head—then Berry struck me—I fell against the partition—I tried to close with them, and Connor came and hit me on the left side of the head with his chopper—there was a struggle—I was hurt and became insensible—I fell down and remembered no more—everybody who wants to do anybody an injury carries a chopper about in this neighbourhood—they carry it in their coat pocket or up their sleeve; that is the ordinary thing among them in Hoxton—the next time I remembered myself I was in the hospital, where I remained three weeks, when I discharged myself—I have been an outpatient since—I had no quarrel with the prisoners—two years ago I had a few words with Berry, and he threatened me with a revolver—it is true that while the Police-court proceedings were going on I told Shore that I did not wish to hurt the prisoners.
Cross-examined. People carry clasp-knives in that part of the world—I do not do so, and never have—I would have a fair fight with a man,. when I was in health if there was occasion to do so—this occurrence took place about 10 hours after I had come out of prison—about 2 p.m. I was in Baldwin Street, in the Old Fountain—there was a man named Volkes there—he is not a friend of mine, and never was—he was with a friend of mine—I was not introduced to him—we had known one another for a long time—I was having a cenversation with my friend Brooks, and Volkes joined in—there was also a man named John Mack—Berry's name was not mentioned—both Brooks and Mack knew Berry—I did not say what I would do with Berry and all his pals—our conversation
developed into an argument—I call an argument talking against one another, nothing more—Volkes struck me in the mouth all of a sudden—he said he had had 15 boxing competitions, and lost every one—he struck me because he wanted to win one—the idea was that he and I should have a boxing competition, because he thought he could beat me, as I had just come out of prison—we wrestled instead—there were several glasses on the bar—I had had a drop of sherry—I did not throw any drink on the floor—I did not smash my glass on the counter, or strike Volkes on the neck with it—when we had finished wrestling he fell against the bar, and knocked several glasses down—then Brooks came and pulled us apart, and said to Volkes, "Don't do such a thing as that again," and sent him outside—the governor came and asked me what was the matter, and I told him—a barman came up and spoke to me, and we went out—when we went into the Variety bar it was crowded—I did not threaten Connor—I did not advance towards him and say, "Don't speak to me, or I will serve you the same as Volkes"—I did not mention Volkes's name to Connor—I did not make a blow at Connor with a knife—I saw him at the Police-court—I did not notice a bandage on his left arm—I did not rush at Berry in the Variety; I did in the King's Arms—he did not strike me in self-defence—I rushed at him to get the instrument out of his hand—I did not see a soul in the King's Arms when I went in, except the governor of the house—I was in there by myself about 10 seconds—Berry and Horrigan came in about the same time, only by different doors—one of the doors into the bar is not kept locked—I have never had a fight like this before—I was once charged for hitting a policeman on the head with a bottle—that was five years ago, and another charge for attempting to pick pockets—I have been a criminal for the last five years, and amongst ourselves we often have fights—I have not had any conversation with the last witness with regard to our evidence since we gave evidence at the Police-court—I told her I was going through with the case—when I lay in the hospital I did not intend to give evidence; I did not dare—there are over 100 people outside the Court now—what the last witness said about her evidence at the Police-court is untrue—before Worship Street Police-court I did speak to her.
By the COURT. I have been the associate of these men—I have been in prison for 18 months, and Connor came to see me—I told him I did not want to mix with them any more—when he said, "You are going to have a row with me," he wanted me to say something to him, so that he could hit me to some purpose—I had made up my mind to drop them, and I told Connor I meant to give up associating with thieves; that was 12 months before I came out; none of the others have been to see me after Connor came—two of them wrote for visits, but I would not send them—my chief witness was struck in the mouth on Saturday week, and" she has been threatened by Jim Berry—I do not know where he lives; he is a thief—I do not know if he is in prison now—Connor's mother threatened my witnesss, and so did Horrigan's sister.
DR. SIDNEY POCHIN POLLARD . I am house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I was present when Burke was brought in—he was suffering from loss of blood, and while I was examining his head, which was still bleeding, he was sick, and brought up a large quantity of blood—I
found four wounds on his scalp; one was 4 in. long, and another 2 in. long, both incised; his skull was fractured, and there was a cut in the bone—I think a hatchet would be a very likely weapon to inflict those wounds—there were two lesser wounds on the face, one going through the lip and fracturing the jaw; there were two or three teeth loosened—the violence must have been very considerable; his life was certainly in danger—I discharged him on November 6th; he is still an out-patient.
Cross-examined. He was in the hospital about three weeks—when I saw him he had had some drink, but I should not describe him as drunk.
FREDERICK YOELL (349 G). On October 16th I was in Pitfield Street, and heard a disturbance in the direction of the Variety bar—I saw Berry and Horrigan coming out with a number of othermen—I did not go in—shortly afterwards I saw Burke and Shore leave the public-house; they went through Charles Square towards Brunswick Place—shortly after that I heard a police whistle, and I went to the King' Arms; inside I saw Burke lying on his back on the floor, bleeding from several wounds in the head—I did not see any of the prisoners—I took Burke to the hospital.
Cross-examined. There were several men there.
Re-examined. I did not search for any choppers or hammers.
ABRAHAM SUTCLIFFE (186 G). I saw Horrigan on October 18th in Custom Street, Hoxton—I told him I should arrest him for being concerned with two other men in attempting to murder a man named Burke—he said, "Yes, I know all about it; he stabbed me on the head with a knife, and I struck him on the head with a hammer"—on the charge being read over to him he said, "I did it; I struck him on the head with a hammer, and I hope I have killed him."
Cross-examined. I was with another officer—Horrigan did not say to me. "You don't know what a dog's life I have been leading."
By the COURT. He had a scar on the top of his head, which was covered with plaster, and he showed me his handkerchief, which was saturated with blood—he said he got it when Burke struck him on the head with a knife.
ERNEST HOOK (Policeman, G). I saw Berry in Hoxton on October 17 th—I said to him,"I am a police-officer, and I shall arrest you for being concerned with others in attempting to murder a man named Burke by hitting him on the head with a chopper"—he said, "All right; I expected this; if I had not been arrested I should have given myself up; you don't know the life I have had; Burke always reckons he will kill me. I suppose he told you who it was. Never mind, I suppose I shall have to take it"—I said I should search his lodgings; and we have done so, but found nothing.
HENRY MCKENNA (Police Sergeant). On October 17th I arrested Connor at his lodgings—I told him he would have to accompany ate to Hoxton Police station, and that he would be charged with attempting to murder a man by hitting him on the head with a chopper—he said that he had not hit him, and that he knew nothing about it—I saw a bandage on his arm and a wound—he did not offer to show it to me—the three prisoners know one another.
Cross-examined. They know the prosecutor—there is no doubt that there was a wound on Connor's arm.
GUILTY of wounding, with intent to do griexous bodily harm. † BERRY then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony on August 26th, 1898, in the name of William Lntman, and ten other convictions were proved against him. CONNOR Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony on November 16th 1896, in the name of James Ballard, and eight previous convictions were proved against him; and HORRIGAN Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony on January 8th, 1898, in the name of Charles Smith, and three other convictions were proved against him.— Ten Years Penal Servitude each.
NEW COURT, Friday, November 24th, 1899
Before Mr. Recorder.
ARTHUR ALLEN (Detective G) I produce a copy of the certificate of the prisoners marriage in December, 1872—I have compared it with the register in Somerset House, and it is correct—I also produce a certificate of the prisoner's marriage with another woman in 1876, which I got from his wife—I have compared it with the original at Somerset House—it was made the day after the wedding—the second woman gave the information, and I arrested him on a warrant—he has six children—she gave him in custody after living with him 23 years.
MARY JANE HOPKINSON . I am the wife of Edward Hopkinson, of 2, Park Street, Halifax—I know the prisoner—on December 31st, 1872, I was at the Parish Church, Halifax, when he was married—they lived in Halifax about two years—he would not work, and he illused her, and she left him and went to her mother, and I have never seen him since—she has lived in Halifax ever since, and he could easily have found her if he liked—I visited them several times after they were married—there was quarrelling between them.
FANNY CLAY . I live at 19, Black Lion Lane, Hammersmith—I have known the prisoner over 23 years—in September, 1876, I went through the ceremony of marriage with the prisoner at Thame, in Oxfordshire—I have had six children by him, and three by someone else—I first knew him in April, and we got married in September—he told me he was single—I instituted these proceedings because he is living with another woman—I had connection with him in April, and found I was going to be a mother, so he said we had better be married, as he was living in lodgings—my eldest child is 23—I was angry with the prisoner about this other woman, but I never heard that he was married till last October, from his brother Joseph, who is in the habit of visiting us, and I wrote to him and asked him—years ago, after we had only been married a fortnight, I asked his brother and sister, as I heard that he had a wife and two
children, and they both told me that he was single—I got on very well with him—I asked where he had lived as a married man, but I did not take the trouble to go to Halifax and find out if it was true—I did not tax him with it.
Cross-examined. Two cousins did not tell me that you were married—I never saw your cousins—I have begged you on my knees to tell me if it was true—it did not strike me to go to Halifax, and ask Mrs. Crecy if it was true—I asked you, and you said no, you were not married.
Prisoner Defence: I lived only 10 months with my first wife, and she stayed out all night, and that was the reason I left her. She has had children by other men, and by a one-legged man, and it was buried in my name. I was told that she was dead two years before I went through the second ceremony of marriage.
M. J. HOPKINSON (Re-examined). The wife had two, one child while she and her husband were living together, and there was another on the road—after she was married she had two children in 11 months; one was born shortly after the marriage—I am still living at Halifax.
Cross-examined. I do not recollect her living with a one-legged man at Halifax.
GUILTY .— Five Days' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, November 23rd, 24th; and 25th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MATHEWS and MR. HUMPHREYS,Prosecuted MR. AVORY Defended.
JAMES MCLAREN . I am a director of Messrs. Waring and Gillow, Limited, furnishers, builders, and decorators, whose chief office is at 181, Oxford Street—we have other factories, one being during the past seven months at Cambridge Road, Hammersmith, where Mr. John Dunkin was our manager and buyer, and the defendant Howe, the foreman—Howe's duty was to make out a requisition showing the amount of timber he proposed to buy, and the person or firm of whom it was to be ordered—he would probably initial the requisition, but he would send it to the clerk for entry in the book—the requisition would then be filed—the order-book is perforated, so that the duplicate made by carbon paper can be taken out—that is sent to Mr. Dunkin, the manager, for his approval and signature—every order has the date and the signatures of a director and the manager—Mr. Dunkin has authority to sign for Mr. John Waring—he uses an india-rubber stamp—for an order over £106 Mr. Dunkin would consult the directors—the order is then posted, or, if urgent, taken to the firm supplying the timber—we do not recognise verbal orders—each order bears the note, "Orders are not valid unless signed by a director"—the prisoner had been in Waring and Gillow's employment
about four years—he was foreman joiner at the Hammersmith factory, which has been open since April—up to August last his salary was £156 per annum—we increased it to £5 a week—this is the requisition to C. J. Wade, of Great St. Helen's, for two standards of first pine, at £24 perstandard—that would mean 60 planks, 12ft. long and 11 in. by 3 in., or 180 boards first quality per standard, each plank being cut into three boards—" R.H." are the defendant's initials upon it—it has been "spiked" or filed—I produce the order-book used at the Hammersmith factory—I find the duplicate of the order, addressed to Messrs. Wade, of September 23rd, 1899, in every respect the same as the requisition, except that instead of two it is 22 standards, and instead of £24 it is £24 15s.—it should tally with the requisition—the 22 and the 15s. are apparently written at different times—the requisition is in duplicate, and the terms would appear in a book called the requisition-book, the Foreman's Memorandum Book, and various names—there is also a counterfoil—this is the order sent to Messrs. Wade—it is for 22 standards at £24 15s.—it bears the signature of J. W. Waring, made by an india-rubber stamp, and it is signed by the buyer—such an order is abnormal—I have never given such an order—the most I have ordered is 4 1/2 standards, as appears from our order-books—we have not room to store 22 standards properly at Hammersmith—under no circumstances would it be in the interest of the firm to buy 22 standards—we use roughly eight standards per year—taking the cabinet factory under Mr. Dunkin, and the joinery, under Howe, 21/4 standards was sufficient on September 23rd—we had 18 months' stock, over nine standards—our liability upon the requisition was £48—it was increased by the alteration to £544 10s.—Howe would pass in the timber—our rules are against any commission or inducement to the buyer—I produce requisition signed by Howe, and the order, signed "McLaren," of September 19th, for the supply, amongst other things, of one standard of 3 by 10 first pine at £22, and one standard first yellow at £20 10s.—that is to T. Saunders and Sons, timber merchants, from whom we have bought timber—I also produce order to Messrs. Saunders, signed by Mr. Waring, a director, and by Mr. Dunkin, the manager, for six standards of 3 by 10 first pine at £32, instead of one standard as in the requisition, and 10 standards of first yellow pine at £20 10s., instead of one standard and the duplicates in the order-book, which should agree with the requisition—there was no necessity to order that quantity, although one or two standards might pass through at any time.
Cross-examined. Anyone whose attention had been called to it might notice the alteration, but you might turn over the order-book a dozen times and not notice that "2" had been altered to "22"—there is a dot between the twos—the invoice from Wade's would pass through two or three hands—Mr. Dunkin received it—Howe could have had the invoice sent to him—he could have altered the requisition—the alteration in Saunders's order is done in a different pencil—originally it was in blue; the alteration is in black—Wade's invoice was for 33 standards—looking at the press copy, I should say the "15s." was not filled in at the same time—it was in the specification—I now take the statement, "Not less than half the parcel," to be a concession—cash paid on the 20th of the
month is less 2 1/2 or 5 percent, sometimes—I know that Howe stopped a van coming, and that there was a dispute between him and Wade's traveller, Burleigh, as to the whole parcel being 44 or 64 1/2—there was no question as to Howe's character, or he would not have been taken on.
Re-examined. The invoice clerk was Howe's son—his duty was to compare it with the duplicate order, to get the foreman's initials as evidence of the quality and quantity delivered, and formalities complied with, then he stamps it with the word "Passed" for the ledger clerk—then the account would go forward for payment in the ledger department, which is under my control.
FREDERICK PETERSON . I am a clerk at the Hammersmith factory—part of my duty is to enter the orders in the order-book from the requisitions signed by Howe—I made out this order of September 23rd in duplicate by carbon paper—I tore out one form and sent it to Mr. Dunkin to sign—it was for "2" standards of pine—it came back with Mr. Dunkin's signature upon it—Howe told me to put another "2," and make it "22," and to put "15s." on to the £24—I did it in both the forms—Saunders' order is in my writing, but I do not recollect anything about it.
Cross-examined. I did not try to make it appear to have been originally "22"—I said at the Police-court, "I did not think the prisoner was doing anything wrong in telling me to alter the order"—that is true—I did not think about it—Howe saw the travellers in the building department—I kept the order book in Mr. Howe's office—Mr. Dunkin first saw me about it, as far as I can remember.
Re-examined. Howe is my master—he saw Mr. Wade's traveller, Mr. Burleigh.
JOHN DUNKIN . I have been manager of Messrs. Waring and Gillow's factory at Cambridge Road, Hammersmith, since it was opened about seven months back—I am also the buyer—the prisoner was foreman joiner—I bought without consulting my principals, but not more than to the amountof £100—the prisoner made out a requisition of what was required, which was entered by the clerk in the order book—I signed the order, but not the requisition, which was filed; in writing or by an india-rubber stamp—the director's signature is affixed by a stamp—both stamps are under lock and key—the order is passed to a clerk, who registers it—it goes back to the foreman or his clerk—the foreman checks the delivery—this order of September 23rd with the stamps upon it was not in this form; a "2" has been added—the price of 22 standards at £24 15s. would be over £500—the 15s. has also been added since I stamped it—on the evening of October 5th I opened an envelope containing an invoice from Messrs. Wade—invoices usually come by the morning poet—the large amount of 33 standards attracted my attention; also the purchase price, over £800—I immediately sent for the registration form—I found it was "2 standards"—I then sent for the order book, and found the duplicate in our book had been altered from "2" to "22," and the price from £24 to £24 15s.—I sent a telegram at once to Messrs. Wade to stop delivery and come and see me at once—I pinned the registration form to the order, and put them in my desk—the registration is to ensure no orders being issued without the director's signature, which is on them when
registered—the registry is kept in the ledger room—if the prisoner had asked for the form it probably would have been shown to him—Howe, jun., was the invoice clerk who would check the invoice with the order and the registration form—I believe the word "passed" is his writing on the invoice—the whole entry on September 23rd was in one writing—the specifications tome to me—I open all letters, or my clerk for me—I first saw this specification of August 4th on the morning of October 6th—I went for my holiday from September 4th to 18th—it would not be out of order for Howe to examine the specification and write out the requisition without consulting me if the timber was required, but it would be his duty to consult me as to price—I authorised two standards at £24—anything above that was wrong—the alteration was without my authority—I do not accept the order for 22 standards as my order—I saw Howe in my office or in his office, which is next to mine, the next morning, October 6th—Burleigh was in my office, and I sent for Howe—I said, "There has been some mistake here"—Burleigh said he called in answer to the telegram—Howe said, "I bought" or "ordered 22 standards, being half of the 44 standards which I marked on the specification," and brought the specification from his office, and said, "Half of that," pointing with his finger to the "44"—I was surprised, and said, "Well, I never heard of this before; it is a much larger quantity than we require"—Howe said he never intended it to be all sent in at once—I said that Wade had sent in some small stuff from 7 to 10 in. wide, and it was much shorter than the usual length, some about 6, 7, and 8 ft.—that was the fact—Howe said to Burleigh, "3 by 11 was what I bought"—Burleigh said it was not 3 by 11, but it was his idea that Howe had bought half the parcel on this specification, which was not all 3 by 11, and that it was usual for timber merchants selling pine to make up the specifications with short and narrow—I pointed out the price was now £24 15s. on the order—Howe said that was a mistake, and it was that which caused him to bring the specification in to show me—I then first saw the price £24 15s. on the specification—the prisoner had no authority to buy without the signatures—it was a serious breach of discipline, and I wanted to know what Messrs. Wade had to say—I had no knowledge of the order having been increased till it then came before me—we had not accommodation at Hammersmith to stack 22 standards of timber in the way it should be stacked, in addition to other woods—we had no re-quirement for so large a quantity—from October 6th I was in communication with Mr. Burleigh and Messrs. Wade by word of mouth and by letter—I declined to accept delivery of more than the two standards I ordered at £24 per standard—I reported the matter to Mr. John Waring on the evening of October 17th—I wrote Messrs. Wade on October 18th—I returned home from a holiday on September 18th, and came to business on the Monday morning, 19th—I made a farther examination of the order-book, and found the order had been increased in two instances, a "1" being altered into "6" and another "1" into "10" to Messrs. Saunders, without my knowledge or authority—I first knew of this on October 18th—I ran my finger through the book and made a note of it.
Cross-examined. In both cases the alterations are obvious—I did not hand this specification to the prisoner to deal with—we have dealt with
Messrs. Wade since February last—if this specification had been sent by post I cannot explain why I did not see it—I do not think I was at the office on the August bank holiday—that might be the explanation—letters are left over bank holiday for me to open—my shorthand clerk would open letters in my presence—he might open a letter, but would not hand a specification to Howe without my authority—Howe selected wood—he bought subject to my approval—I have not raised objections to price—I know something about price—I have had timber offered as low as £24 10s. per standard—I did not suggest to Mr. Burleigh that the price was excessive; 1 said it was not the price agreed—there was a dispute between Burleigh and Howe, who stuck to it that the order was for 33 standards, or half the parcel—at the Police-court I heard Mr. Wade say that he was going to do something, but I did not listen, I was coming away—it would be impossible for Howe to keep secret the fact of large quantities being delivered—I said at the Police-court, speaking of Burleigh, "I said, if I take the amount, would you like the order spread over two or three years?"—that is probably what I said—that was to show that as they were anxious to get their money on the 20th of the month it would be too ridiculous to wait for three years, and therefore for him to accept the order.
Re-examined. The defendant was responsible for the quality, and the invoice clerk for the quantity of the wood delivered—I should look at it and pass an opinion upon it—Messrs. Saunders' pine at £22 was the same quality as Messrs. Wade's; the difference in size reduced the price about 30s.
JOHN WARING . I am a director of Messrs. Waring and Co., Limited—on the evening of October 17th a report was made to me by Mr. Dunkin, the manager of our Hammersmith factory, in consequence of which I saw the prisoner on Saturday, October 21st, at our office at 181, Oxford Street.
Cross-examined. When I told the prisoner that I did not want to take proceedings against him that was after his confession—I do not remember that I did so before; nor saying that I did so at the Police-court—(The witness's deposition being here ready stated:" At the interview on October 21st, the prisoner at first said it was a mistake of his in writing out the requisition—I did not say it was a lie—I do not remember saying, "I have no doubt you are getting a commission'—I never said, 'I know Wade has promised to give you the 15s.'—he did not say, 'I have no promise from Wade at all,' or words to that effect—I have no recollection of his saying so—I do not remember those words.")—I signed my deposition as correct--(Reading continued: "At this point of the interview my brother Samuel came in—I could not say why my brother said, "You are liable to two years.' He said to me, 'Lock him up,' or, 'He deserves to be locked up' ")—that is true—(Reading continued: "I rang the bell and sent for a policeman; I rang the bell for the clerk to come in, and told him to bring a policeman. The prisoner did not say, 'I assure you I have told you the truth.' I never heard my brother say, 'It is not you we want to get at, but Wade, who has led you astray,' or words to that effect.")—I think those are Howe's words—I cannot remember if I said that—this is true—I did not say
then to the prisoner, "If you like to write out a statement I will not take proceedings agninst you; I did not want to take proceedings against him, and told him so, and I asked him to make a statement, but not a statement against Wade; I said I thought he had been led into it—I asked him to write the truth, and said I did not want to prosecute; as a fact, no policeman was sent for; it was a little piece of bluff—I pretended to send for a policeman to get the truth from him"—those words were taken down—the solicitor called it bluffs I called it truth—those were the words put tome—after that the prisoner made a statement in writing—I received a letter from Howe the following Monday—after that letter I had another interview with him in the presence of my solicitor—I think I said at the Folioe-court, "I cannot say he would have been locked up if he had adhered to his written statement; perhaps not, so far as I myself am concerned," also "I saw the prisoner on 24th, when he was arrested; I do not know that he said he meant to stick to the truth, which was his first verbal statement; I expect he did so; I have no recollection of his saying so"—when the prisoner came in on the 21st I said, "I suppose you know what I have sent for you about?"—he said "No"—I said, "Surely you do"—I do not think I said, "Come, come, tell me the truth; do not fool away lime"—I think I said, "Waste time."
GEORGE ALLARDICE RIDDELL . I am one of the firm of Riddell, Vaizey and Smith, the prosecutors' solicitors—on October 24th I attended at Messrs. Waring's premises and saw the prisoner in the presence of Mr. John Waring—I said, "This is a sad business, Howe;" he said, 'Yes, it is, Sir; I am very sorry,"
MR. MATHEWS tendered two statements made by the prisoner on October 21st and 24th but MR. AVORT submitted that they were made under the influence of fear or favour, and, therefore, were not admissible, (See Reg, V. Rue and Reg. v. Doherty, 13, Cox's Criminal Cases) MR. MATHEWS contended that the statements were admissible if made voluntarily. The COURT held that after MR. AVORY'S
Cross-examination of Mr. John Waring, both these statements were inadmissible.
DANIEL TOMBLIN (Detective, C). On October 24th I was called to Messrs. Waring and Gillow's Great Marlborough Street premises, about 4 p.m.—Mr. John Waring said in the prisoner's presence that he wished to give the prisoner into custody for falsifying the books and forging orders—I told the prisoner I was a police-officer, and should arrest him on that charge—he said, "That is quite right; I am very sorry"—I took him to the Police-station—when the charges were read over to him he said, "That is right."
Evidence for the Defence.
CHARLES JOSIAH WADE . I am a timber merchant, of Nos. 8 and 9, Great St. Helens—I have been 35 years in the business—my partner is Mr. Barrett—this specification was sent out from our office—it is in my traveller's writing—I saw it in the books afterwards—this is the press copy in the letter book—they are sent by post or supplied at the office—forms are kept in the office—this is dated August 4th—it must have got out with others about that day—this is "Price for not less than half the parcel, £24 15s. per standard"—that appears to have been written originally—there is nothing to show any alteration afterwards—the price
is fair for that time for a large quantity—prices keep steady or sometimes advance bv leaps and bounds—within a fortnight I sold similar wood at £25 10s. per standard—it was part of the parcel out of the same ship—the price is to a merchant who has to sell it again—I sold two and a-half standards to a builder about three weeks ago at £27 15s., we are now quoting at £28—when our traveller reports an order it is entered—sometimes business is done by telephone—sometimes a dock order is required by the buyer—this order was entered for 33 standards through our traveller, Mr. Burleigh, which was half the parcel of 64 1/2 standards—at that time I would not have sold two standards at £24 15s., except as a sample to a regular customer—Waring and Gillow's have dealt with us since April 1st—Mr. Burleigh must submit the bargain to me before it is ratified—I had a communication from Mr. Dunkin about the beginning of October—I saw him on or about October 17th at our office—Mr. Dunkin said that Howe had altered the "2" to "22," and the price from £24 to £24 15s.—I told Mr. Dunkin I could not acknowledge any onder for two standards at £4 all 8 by 11; that what I wanted was an order for 33 standards, or half the parcel, broad and narrow together, at £24 15s.; the altered order was shown to Mr. Duukin, and I showed him this book—I asked him, as a man of business presumably knowing what he was talking about, whether he would expect me to execute an order for all 3 by 11 pine at £21—I told him I was not such a fool as to do it, and I would not do it, and that he must take the specification fairly, or not at all—ultimately he said if I would consent to deliver all 3 by 11 he would pass the order, but I ended the interview by telling him I would do nothing of the sort; it was picking out the cream of the parcel and leaving us all the refuse—by doing so I should have lost, probably, £50 or £60 by the bargain—I am now retaining half this parcel for Messrs. Waring to make terms—the due date for payment not falling due till November 20th, I have not yet attempted to carry it further—there is absolutely no foundation for the suggestion that there was any bargain, corrupt or otherwise, between me and the defendant with reference to this purchase.
Cross-examined. I had returned to business on Wednesday, October 11th—I saw the specification in the books about August 8th, and the order, when it was produced before the Magistrate, about October 24th—I take the pencil memorandum, "Not less than half the parcel," to be Burleigh's writing—I have only seen Howe twice; once at the yard, when Mr. Barker, Mr. Waring's manager, was giving orders for the Jubilee, when Howe was called in; and next, the day after Mr. Dunkin had been to the office, about October 18th, after he had seen my partner—he came in at the fagend of the conversation—at that interview the prisoner told me he had altered the order from "2" to "22" standards, and it came to my knowledge that he had altered the price; also, I believe, that the alteration of the "2" to "22" was a mistake of the boy who took in the requisition—that is what impressed my mind—I had not taken from Waring's such a large order before—looking into the accounts, I find Waring's had £300 worth of best pine from me, irrespective of what they had of other people, in June and July last—we expect Messrs. Waring to take the 33 standards—I do not acknowledge the altered
order—from October 6th Messrs. Waring's repudiated the order by their telegram after they had had about nine standards—I hold them to their bargain, notwithstanding the rise in price, on principle only—Burleigh brought me the first order from Waring's after the Jubilee order—I was anxious to get their custom, and I saw Mr. Sam Waring about it.
Re-examined. I gave Burleigh a list of desirable customers—hewould not derive a 6d. benefit from this order—I have offered my bookn for Waring's inspection through my solicitor—this is our original invoice—Mr. Burleigh brought it in when the dispute arose—that is how I came by it—it is dated September 20th—the clerk would send it out about that date—it is for 33 standards.
By MR. MATHEWS. Until the matter before the Magistrate was reported I took no steps—there must have been more than three deliveries to Waring's in June and July—I went through our books with Mr. Burleigh, and we made it £300.
JOHN BURLEIGH . I am Messrs. Wade's traveller—I gave the specification to the boy to post—it was addressed to Messrs. Waring's, at Hammersmith, about August 4th—I followed that up by a call on the 9th—I went to Messrs. Wade's service in March—I got the first order from Waring's after that, from Howe in October—I only had one order from Dunkin for 100 pieces of pine in July—my other orders were from Howe; probably a dozen—when I saw Howe on August 9th I put the price on the specification as the lowest price for that quantity—the"15S." was written then—he said he would take half the parcel, and I made that note as it appears—I have not seen the paper since I left it withhim—we walked out together—I would not have take" less than £24 15s. even if he had taken the whole parcel, but, as a concession, I would let him have half the parcel at that price—I reported the matter on my return to the office—the order was partly executed, and the first intimation I had of any dispute was a telegram to stop delivery, and then I thought the dispute bore rather upon the quality of the stuff—a load was returned to the mill where the wood had been cut—that was after the telegram—there was no corrupt bargain between me and Howe to gain any benefit from this order—this is our invoice of September 20th—we sent to the mills for best pine to supply that verbal order.
Cross-examined. I have known Howe since April, when I called at Messrs. Waring's Marlborough Street offices—I saw Howe afterwards at the Hammersmith factory once a week or oftener alone, with the object of doing business—Howe's orders ranged from £20 or £30 to£150—the largest before August may have been four and a-half standards, about£100—nothing was said about an allowance—we did not require printed orders—I saw the notice, "Please note; orders not valid unless signed by a director," but paid no attention, because the laws laid down were chiefly br ken by Waring's, and not by us—Mr. Dunkin, not Mr. Howe, informed me of the alteration in the order—the 22 standards struck me as a very good order, not particularly large; I took it to be an order for 32 1/2 standards—it was larger than I had had before—I accepted it as Howe gave it—all my orders are taken subject to ratification by my superiors—when Howe said, "I will take half the parcel," I said, "Right you are," and the thing was done—my hope was to increase my salary at the end of the year—
that was my object—there was no question between us as to whether the price was £24 or £24 15s.Re-examined. £24 was a mistake—the "15s." was added afterwards—we treated it as a mistake—I did not notice it at the time—we usually take verbal orders—we do not reduce everything to writing—Mr. Dunkin's was a written order—the order does not include delivery; that is extra—Mr. Dunkin generally referred me to Howe as to orders for wood—when I otained an order my duty began and ended.
RICHARD BARRETT . I am Mr. Wade's partner—we received verbal orders, and the written authority afterwards—Messrs. Waring's rule was not adhered to—there is no foundation in the suggestion of any arrangement between our firm and Howe for paying him anything, or that he was to benefit from any order from us.
Cross-examined. The attention of my firm has. been called to the supply of goods without a written order—my duties are principally out-side the office—Mr. Wade complained to Mr. Burleigh about taking verbal orders from Howe.
CHARLES JOSIAH WADE (Re-examined). I have complained that the printed orders have not been brought in in time for us to get the account passed—we did not enforce payment of the account until we got the final order—in many instances goods had been delivered before the written order arrived—an order was taken on April 24th, the goods were delivered on May 30th, the final order was received on June 25th; another sale on April 29th, and the printed order May 6th—I have written Waring's strongly on the subject—another final order came on August 13th for goods delivered on May 15th and 16th—I can give 12 of them.
Cross-examined. Invoices may have been returned for the number to Be attached and the rules compiled with, but that would be office routine, that I cannot speak to—we sent duplicates to get them through, and registered our letters.
J. McLAREN (Re-examined). Messrs. Waring's could have met the account if properly passed.
NOT GUILTY ,
30. The said RICHARD HOWE was again indicted for feloniously forging an order for the delivery of six standards of first pine-wood and 10 standards of first yellow pine-wood, with intent to defraud; also for, that he being; a servant to Messrs. Waring and Gillow, Limited, uttered paper writings belonging to his employers, and made false entries in their books, with intent to defraud.
No evidence was offered. NOT GUILTY .
MR. BOYD Prosecuted, and MR. KEITH FRITH Defended Ereira.
LOUIS BOSSI (Interpreted). I am a waiter, of 71, Liverpool Road—I was in Commercial Street, Whitechapel Road, on November 14th, alone, and rather drunk—the prisoners, whom I did not know, came to me—Ereira knocked me down—Courtney got my overcoat open, and took my money, 3s. or 4s.—they ran away—I did not provoke them, nor take out a knife—I went to a policeman—two policemen took them.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I was fined the next morning for being drunk—I missed my watch the next morning—I saw my money a minute before the assault—I spent 1s. 2d., or 1s. 3d., in the public-house, where I changed a 5s. piece—my chain was not in my pocket.
EDWARD BROWN (389 H). I was on duty in Commercial Street about 1.20 a.m. on November 13th—I saw the prisoners and the prosecutor Struggling in a doorway about 40 yards off—the prisoner ran across the-road—Ereira ran after him, struck him in the face, and knocked him down,' and Courtney and Ereira got on the top of him—I ran up—someone shouted, "Heads up!"—the prisoners, jumped up and ran away—I heard coins fall on the pavement—I blew my whistle and followed them—they ran together—Police-constable 211 was standing at the corner, and caught Ereira—I caught Courtney—we took them to the prosecutor—he said, "Theyhave robbed me"—they were taken to the station—the prosecutor charged them with stealing 3s.—he was drunk—he did not miss his watch till the next morning—when charged Ereira said, "They said he had got a knife"—Courtney gaid, "Assault? Well, that man struck him," pointing to Ereira; "I never struck him"—they were searched—2d. was found on Ereira, and 2d. and a small table-knife on Courtney—I did not lose sight of Courtney.
Cross-examined by MR. FRITH. I made inquiries—I found Ereira was a respectable young man.
HARRY BAKER (211 H). I heard a police whistle, and went in that direction—I saw Ereira run across the road, and ran after him into Whitechapel Road, and arrested him—he said, "It's all right, governor"—I took him to the station, and he was charged.
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Ereira says: "No violence was used." Courtney says: "I was coming up Commercial Street a little after I this morning, on the left, towards Venables'; I see some chaps up thera They said, 'That man's going to use a knife,' so I goes over across the street, and prosecutor pulls out a small penknife. I see him fall down, and I heard the police whistle blow. I crossed over the street, and walked up towards Venables'. I see police-men run up, and I mixes with the crowd, and the policeman caught hold of me and took me down to the prosecutor, and then to the station. First, the man said he only had 8d. on him, and lost 6d. out of it; then he said he had 5s., and lost 3s. 6d. out of it; then he said he had 1s. 4d.; then he said 7s. or 8s., and at last he said he had lost 5s. He said nothing about the watch last night, but this morning the constable told me he said he had lost his watch "
Ereira, in his defence, on oath, said that he was going to take the knife from the prosecutor who was drunk. He received a good character, Courtney, in his dejence, repeated his statement, and added that he was going to the docks or work, when he mixed with the crowd, and was taken.
GUILTY . COURTNEY then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in July, 1898. Three other convictions were proved against him,— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. EREIRA— Six Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, November 25th 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HARRISON Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS and MR. HUTTON
The Prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of an indecent-assault. Recommended to mercy by the JURY on-account of his character.— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.
THOMAS TURNER . I live at 95, Halle Road, Forest Gate, and am a. sorter in the General Post Office—on November 3rd I left Liverpool Street Station by the 12.30 a.m. train with two friends, Mr. Needs and Mr. Holmes, who are both employed in the Post Office—the station before Stratford is Coborn Road, and just after the train left, our attention was. attracted to the fearful screams of a woman in the next second-class compartment—just before we ran into Stratford the screams stopped—we were going on to Forest Gate, but, in consequence of the screams, we got out at Stratford—as we got out I saw two men get out of the compartment where the screams came from—I said to them,"Wait a moment, you must have your names and addresses taken for this"—I looked into the carriage, and saw a woman apparently in a faint—when I. told the men they would have to have their names taken, they said what had it to do with me, and who was I?—a porter came up. and said, "You must put your names nnd addresses in a book." and he handed the prisoner a book—I looked over the prisoner's shoulder, and saw him write "William," but I cannot say what the other name was; hefinished with "Walthamstow"—I saw that plainly—he wanted to fight me, so I did not take any notice of the other man then—I did not answer the prisoner, and he pulled out a handful of sovereigns and said, "Will you tight for £10, £5, or £2?"—I did not answer him; I and my two friends went out of the station, and walked in the direction of Mary-land Point, on our way home—there was also another man with us who had been a passenger, who took up the case; he was a stranger; I do-not know who he is, or his name—we were all four walking along the road, when the prisoner and his friend came up behind, shouting at me,. "Ain't you going to fight?"—we went along till we got to a coffee-stall, when the stranger tuined round to the prisoner and his friend, and said, "We don't want any fighting; have a cup of coffee?"—I do not think the prisoner answered, but all six of us had some coffee, which was paid for by the stranger—then I and my two friends started to walk home—the stranger remained at the coffee-stall, and also the prisoner and his friend
—we had gone about 200 or 300 yards when the prisoner and his friend caught us up; the stranger was not there—I did notseeany more of him that night—the prisoner's friend rushed at my friend Needs, and said, "Now you have got to fight for nothing"—I walked a couple of yards along to see where Needs had gone, because the electric hight was going out, when I got a whack across the back and side of my head with a crooked stick—there was only the prisoner there; he had a stick in his hand—I Turned round and caught the prisonby the throat—we had a struggle, and I threw him to the ground—he still had the stick, and I tried to take it from him—I was on my right knee, leaning over him—then I pulled him out straight, and pulled him quite two yards along the pavement; he was swearing at me all the while—when I got the stick away he said, "Do let me get up! Do let me get up!"—I said, "Get up," and he got up, and I said, Here is your stick; in future act like a man, and go away"—there had been no one near us while the struggle was going on—he walked away, and then I put my hand to my stomach, and one of my fingers went into a wound which I had there—when I pulled my fingers out they were covered with blood, and there was blood all along the pavement—I had on a pair of trousers, a pair of drawers, and two shirts, one of which was flannel; they were all stabbed through—I called out to Needs, "Jack, I am stabbed!"—(The trousers were produced, with a large cut on the right side)—when I called out I could not see the prisoner and his friend; it was dark—my two friends went after them—I did not see my friends again, but a cabman spoke to me—I remained still for a little while, and then followed my friends slowly—I met a policeman, and we found the prisoner and his friend—the policeman said, "Which one done it! "and I said, "This one," pointing to the prisoner—I was put into a cab and taken to the West Ham Hospital—after my wound was sewn up and dressed I went with a policeman to the station and charged the prisoner—the wounds in my stomach and in my ear were both sewn up—I was perfectly sober—I should not like to say if the prisoner was sober—he seemed to be in a very excited condition; he seemed in a temper—I have not gone to work yet but the wound is healing beautifully.
Crossexamined. I knew I had got a hit on my ear, but I did not know it was bleeding till I got into the cab—my friends and the stranger were grown-up men—I looked over the prisoner's shoulder at the railway station to see what he was writing; the stranger did not; he was not tall enough—I had never seen the prisoner before—he did not say at the coffee-stall, "Have a cup of coffee and settle it up "; the stranger said so—the prisoner did not ask us to go and have a drink at some club—the prisoner was holding on to the stick when we were struggling—I dragged him along the pavement—he was lying down when I got the stick—the light had not quite gone out when the struggle finished; it was dark—before we got out of the train I had not knocked at the prisoner's carriage window—the stranger did not challenge Wilburn, the prisoner's friend, to fight—the prisoner did not say to the stranger, "We don't want to fight in the station; let us go outside, where it is light, and he shall fight you, and I will fight one of the others"—I did not say, "Why, I could fight the two of them"—I think the prisoner did say,
"You are big enough to eat the of us"—that was before any below was struck—wilburn and Needs began to fight I did not say, "That is right, Jack; go on"—the prisoner did not say, "Don't you interface; he is plenty big enough for him; let them have a fair fight"—I did not then say, "You had better have one," and give him a smack on the head.
Re-examined. I have had some of those questions asked me before, but not all of them.
By the COURT. I think the prisoner must have stabbed me in the struggle; when I got him down, he must have had a knife out, and tried to rip me up.
JOHN HENRY NEEDS . I live at 4, Church Road, Little Ilford, and am a sorter in the General Post Office—I went home with the prosecutor by the 12.30 train on October 2nd—on the way we heard a woman's screams in the next compartment—a stranger who was in the carriage opened the door to see what was the matter, but we pulled him back again, as it was dangerous—when we got to Stratford we all got out, and I got into the carriage in which the woman was—I found her in a state of collapse—the prisoner and another man got out of the carriage—I called the attention of the railway officals to the woman, and she was taken out and placed on a seat on the platform; then the train went off—a porter came up and produced a book for the purpose of haveing their names taken—I did not see what was written—the proisoner and his friend wanted to fight anybody for £5 or £2—I did not take any notice, but went out of the station with the prosecutor and Holmes—the prisoner and his friend followed behind us; they still challanged us—at the coffee-stall the stranger who was with us proposed that he should supply coffee for the whole of us, and settle it up—we all stopped, and had some coffee—then Turner and Homes and I started home—when we had gone some distance I saw the prisoner and his friend following us; they caught us up at Maryland Point Station—Wilburn got in front of me, and snatched my pipe out of my mouth and struck at me—I wash too occupied with my struggle with him to see what took place between the prisoner and tell him to act like a man, and I saw the stick back to the prisoner and tell him to act like a man, an I saw the prisoner walk away with his friend, and immediately Turner called out he was stabbed—I went after a policeman at once—the prisoner and his friend were stopped about 300 yards away—I did not see anybody at Maryland Point except Turner, Holmes, myself, the prisoner and Wil-burn—there was certainly nobody near where the struggle took place.
Crossexamined. It would nt be correct to say that there was anybody within 10 yards.
GEORGE HOLMES . I live at 80, Woodrange Road, Forest Gate, and am a sorter in the Post Office—I came down by this last train with my friends—I heard screamsin the compartment, and when I got out at Startford, the stranger who was in the carriage with us said the men's names and addresses shoud be taken—after they were taken the prisoner pulled out a handful of gold, and offered to fight Needs for £10—Needs said he did not want to fight; then Wilburn said, "You cannot have names and addresses for nothing"—I and my friends left the station, and
the other men followed us—after a time Wilburn struck at Needs, and at the same time the prisoner struck the prosecutor with his stick—I saw the struggle between them—the prisoner struck Turner with the stick; Turner closed with him; after a little time the prisoner went down, and the prosecutor on top of him, and got possession of the stick, and then I saw him give it back to the prisoner and tell him to get up and act like-a man, and then they went away—there was nobody within 10 yards of them—I did not interfere; I was in the road all the time, looking on.
Cross-examined. Two fights were going on at the same time; one between Turner and the prisoner, and one between Needs and Wilburn—Needs was about 10 yards from Turner—I said before t he Magistrate: "It was dark at the spot where these occurred; I did not interfere because I thought the two fights were proceeding fairly. There were other people within 20 yards. A lot of postmen came up afterwards; there were about six people there at the time of the fight. I saw the prisoner dragged along the ground, holding the stick."
Re-examined. None of the people who were there interfered in the struggle.
EDWARD ERNEST BRACE . I live at 19, South wold Grove Road, Leytonstoue, and an a cabdriver, No. 8,034—about 1.30 on the morning of November 3rd, as I was going over Maryland Point Bridge with my cab towards Leytonstoue, I saw two struggles going on; one was between Turner and the prisoner—nobody else was engaged in it—I saw the prisoner hit Turner with the stick; he fell, and I drove after the prisoner and detained him—it was a kind of fir stick, with knots on it, and silver-mounted, and about as thick as one's finger—after the prosecutor was stabbed, I saw blood on the pavement, and that made me go after the prisoner—I afterwards took the injured man to the hospital.
Cross-examined. There were about 8 or 10 yards between the two fights.
WILLIAM NORTH (606 K). At 1.25 a m. on November 3rd, I went toWell Street, Maryland Point, and saw the prisoner detained by the cabman—I met the prosecutor in the prisoner's presence—he said, "I have been stabbed"—I said, "Who by?"—he said, "This man," pointing to the prisoner—I turned to the prisoner and said, "Do you hear that?"—he said, "Yes"—Turner said, "I will give him into your custody"—I said, "Very well; you will have to come with me to the station '—I took him there, where he was charged—he was searched—no knife was found on him—Wilburn came to the station, too—as no charge was preferred against him, he was allowed to go—he was not searched.
Cross-examined. I beard the prisoner tell the inspector that he knew nothing about it—that was about an hour and a half or two hours after he was charged—the prosecutor went to the hospital before the prisoner was to put up with it"—he had blood on his face and hands, and on his overcoat—I was in uniform—he went quietly to the station—I think he was sober.
CHARLES BUDGE (Police Inspector). At 2.50 a.m. I took the charge against the prisoner—he said, "I could not help it; I must put up with it; I know nothing about it"—I examined him, and found recent blood-marks
on bis overcoat and face and hands—I did not examine him to see if there was a wound on him—I did not see any mark upon him.
Cross-examined. I do not remember his having a stick; his friend had one, I believe—if the prisoner had had a stick I should not have allowed bim to keep it at the station—if a stick had been taken from him it would have been produced here—I did not notice that the prosecutor's ear bad been cut open.
By MR. METCALFE. I did not notice the prisoner's friend much—he was not searched—the charge was for stabbing,
ROBERT NIEVERN . I am senior house surgeon at West Ham Hospital—I saw Turner two days after he was brought in—Dr. Stalker gave evidence before the Magistrate—he is in bed unwell; he is in Scotland now—I saw the prosecutor's wound; it was a cutting wound; it would be produced by a sharp instrument—it was in the groin, and fully 2 in. long—I do not know the depth of it—it had been sewn up with nine stitches when I saw it—I saw the prosecutor's ear had also been sewn up; he had a wound on it which would be caused by a blunt instrument—the wound in the abdomen was an exceedingly dangerous one—he bad perfectly recovered now.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath stated that the prosecutor had hit him on the head; that he (the prisoner) said that if he hit him again he would hit him with his stick; that the prosecutor did hit him, and he (the prisoner) hit him with the stick; that the prosecutor then knocked him on the ground and got the stick away; that the prosecutor then returned him his stick, and he (the prisoner) walked away; that he did not use a knife, or have one; that there were about eight people at the spot where the fight was going on, and that he thought that the prosecutor must have been stabbed by some of the men who were there.
Evidence for the Defence.
ERNEST WILBURN . I live at 3, Vicarage Boad, Stratford, and am a commission agent, a betting man—the prisoner is a book-maker's clerk—I was in the railway carriage with him on the morning of November 3rd—a drunken woman got in at Liver-pool Street—when we got out at Stratford Station three men came up, and said we ought to have our names and addresses taken—they called a porter, and I believe he said that we had been doing something to the woman, and ought to have a good hiding—I refused to give my name at first—somebody pushed him, and he said, "Get away; don't push me;" and the prosecutor half took his coat off and said, "I will fight the two of you"—the woman was taken out of the carriage and put on a seat—we all walked out of the station together, and my friend said I should fight the prosecutor for £5 or £10—we went up the road, and had a cup of coffee—we went to Maryland Point, and stood talking—I went up to Needs, and said, "Do you want to fight?"—he put his arm up, and we had a fight—I did not see what the prisoner and Turner were doing till I had finished fighting—the prisoner never gave me a knife—I saw him with a stick—I saw it at the station; it was there when we got there
—I do not know who took it there—it was a cherry-wood stick, with a gold band ronnd it.
Cross-examined. I was angry at having to give my name and address—I do not think I wrote my name; I gave it—I saw Pickering write his name—I think he wrote "William Thomas"; he only goes by his own name—I am not in the habit of fighting—my friend did not want to fight at all—I cannot account for the prosecutor being stabbed—I should think there were 20 people at Maryland Point—some postmen were there while the fight was goinu on—I did not give evidence before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. I have not heard anything more of the woman in the railway carriage.
FREDERICK GEORGE . I am the solicitor for the defence, of 55, Broad-way, Stratford—I did not call evidence before, because the Chairman said that there was a prima facie case, and that it must go for trial, and that I need not call witnesses.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the JURY on account of his youth, and the angry feeling under which he was. He received a good character.— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted, and MR. BURNIE Defended.
WILLIAM J OHN WHITE . I am an engineer, of 20, Palmerston Road, Forest Gate—on Saturday, October 28th, at 7.15 p.m., I and my wife left home; nobody was left in the house—all the doors and windows were securely fastened—I left a revolver upstairs in a chest of drawers, and an overcoat in the hall—we were away about 45 minutes—when we returned; found the front door had been burst open—I missed, and the revolver (Produced)—this silk handkerchief was in the pocket of the coat—at 11.30 a.m. on Sunday I was sent for to Limehouse Police-station, where I saw my revolver—the prisoner was there, and the overcoat was shown to me—the prisoner was charged.
ERNEST GOFF (202 K). On Saturday, October 28th, I was on duty near the Piggott Arms in Piggott Street, Limehouse—I saw the prisoner, and asked him if he had got any firearms about him—he said, "F——you," and tried to draw his hand from his coat pocket—this was the coat, and as he withdrew it I saw the barrel of a revolver between his thumb and finger—I struck him, knocked him down, struggled with him, and got the revolver from him—I did not know him when I spoke to him—I took him to the station, and charged him with being in unlawful possession of this revolver—he made no answer to the charge, but before he was charged he said, "I gave 7s. 6d. for it off a barrow in Commercial Road," and afterwards he stated that he gave 4s. for it at a stall in Commercial Road—I was present when White came in and identified the revolver—
at that time nothing was known about the coat—on October 30th he was charged at the Thames Police-court with unlawful possession, and on the application of Sergeant Liddelow he was discharged in order that he might he charged with the burglary and receiving at Forest Gate.
Cross-eramined. I heard that the prisoner had flourished a revolver in the Piggott Arms—he was not charged for that.
LEWIS LIDDELOW (Police-Sergeant). At 10.30 a.m. on October 30th I took the prisoner to the Thames Police-court after his discharge for un-lawful possession—I said, "You will be charged with breaking into Mr. White's house at 20, Palmerston Road, last Saturday evening, and stealing an overcoat"—he said, "What overcoat?"—I said, "The one you were wearing at the time of your arrest"—he said, "All right"—he was taken, to the station, and made no leply when the charge was read over to him.
Cross-examined. He did not say he had bought the overcoat.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath said that he had bought the coat for 12s. of a man in the White Swan public-house and found the handkerchief and the revolver in the pocket.
Evidence for the Defence.
FLORENCE NELSON . I live at 55, Gell Street, Limehouse—some time ago I lived with the prisoner—on October 28th I met him outside Stratford Church about 4.30—I went with him and had a drink—from there we went to Marloe's Music Hall, at Bow; it is also called the Empire-there are two houses each night—we went to the first—we stayed there till just after 9 o'clock, when we took a tram to Aldgate, where we had more refreshments—we had had one or two drinks in the music hall—we then took a tram to Stepney Station—the prisoner was going to take a tram home, but I said, "Let us go into the Swan, and have a drink"—while we were sitting there two men came in, one tall and very dark, and the other short with a sandy moustache—the tall one had an overcoat on his arm—he said to the prisoner, "Governor, do you want to buy an overcoat?"—the prisoner said, "How much do you want for it?"—he said, "14s."—I said, "You don't want that; it is too much"—he said, "I want an overcoat, but I would not pay that price, I will tell you what I will do: I will give you 12s. for it, and a pot of beer," and tie man accepted that—they also treated us, and as soon as they had drank their beer they went out—the bar was full—we left the Swan and went along the Commercial Road, and into the Duke of York beer-shop—before we went in he put the coat on, and then said, "Flo, look at that; look at what is inthe pocket!"—I said, "Whatever is it?"—he said, "It looks like a revolver to me"—we went inside, and he showed it to me—I said, "Put it down "; and he laid it on the counter—the landlord became alarmed, and sent for the police, and told us to go outside, and we did so—as the prisoner was crossing to get a tram home the policeman came up and took him.
Cross-examined. I thought he was being taken into custody for flourishing the revolver; I did not know that he was being taken for being in unlawful possession—I went up to the Thames Police-court, and heard he
was discharged—I did not know then that he was taken into custody again—it was too late when I got to the Police-court for me to give evidence—I had never seen the two men before—I say my name is Nelson; that is the name I go by now—I have gone by the name of Mrs. F. Abbott—I am not Mrs. Abbott—I have lived with the prisoner as his wife, and taken his name—I went to see him while he was in prison—I took him some food, and had an interview with him.
Re-examined. I went to West Ham after the prisoner was disposed of
W. J. WHITE (Re-examined). I had the revolver given to me some years ago—I valued the things at £3 15s. altogether—I have had the coat about 12 months.
GUILTY of Receiving. He then PLEADED GUILIY to a conviction at Chelmsford on November 8th, 1893; and five other convictions were proved against him.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. TORR Prosecuted.
WILLIAM FIELD . I am a hatter and hosier, of 98, Barking Road, Canning Town—my son sleeps there, but nobody did so on October 27th—on the 26th I secured the outer door with two padlocks, and early next Morning I was called up by the police, went to the premises, and found the outer door forced open.
JAMES WILLIAMSON (237 K). On October 27th, in the early morning, I was on duty in Victoria Dock Road, and saw the prisoners outside No. 25—Charles was tampering with the lock—they went away on my approach—they came back at 3.10, and two other constables came—the prisoner Charles went towards Canning Town railway station—I whistled, and he was stopped—I opened the door of No. 25, and found John behind the door—one padlock had been removed and placed on the bottom one—I said, "What are you doing there?"—he said, "All right, governor; going to the station at the corner of Woodstock Road"—John made a dive, and attempted to get away—I drew my truncheon, and took him to the station.
CHARLES WATSON (163 K). Williamson called me, and I saw the two prisoners outside the door of 25, Victoria Dock Road, doing something to the lock—John went inside—Charles stayed there about a minute, and then walked to Woodstock Street, stood there a minute, and came back to the door again—on seeing us he walked towards Canning Town Station—Williamson blew his whistle, and I stopped Charles and asked him what he had been doing down there—he said, "Nothing "; I said, "You will have to come with me and see"—we went to No. 25; Williamson opened the door, and we saw the prisoner John behind it—the lock had been forced—I took Charles to the station—John endeavoured to get away, and as he endeavoured Charles attempted to get away also—I drew my truncheon, and struck him on his left knee and arm.
By the COURT. I do not think I could have kept hold of him without that, because he called me a dirty dog and said, "If it was not for what jou have got in your hand, I would get away"—he refused to sit down
at the station, as the prosecutor had not arrived, and four of us put him down.
WALWIN LAURENCE (730 K). On October 27th, about 3 a.m., Watson and I watched the prisoners—they stood there two or three minutes—John entered the shop, and Charles went towards Woodstock Street, and re-turned to the shop, and saw us—we asked him what he was doing there; he said, "Nothing n—we took the lock off, and found John inside—we were hiding ourselves.
GUILTY .—They were further charged with previous convictions; John on February 7th, 1899, and Charles on June 9th, 1896, to which they Pleaded Guilty. Six previous convictions were proved against JOHN SMITH— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour. Seven convictions were proved against CHARLES SMITH, one of which was for highway robbery, when he was sentenced to three years' penal servitude.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
MARY REGAN . I am the prisoner's wife—he is a coal-porter—up to November 4th I lived with him at 2, Morcombe Street, Canning Town—he came home drunk on this night about 10 o'clock—if he had not been drunk this would never have happened—I was drunk too—he complained that I had been drinking; I denied it, but I had—we went to bed together at a little after 11 o'clock—he woke up about 1 a.m., and wanted something to eat, but I would not give it to him—I got up, and got a basin from the table and threw it at him—he was standing up—it did nob hit him—he hit me with his fist, and then with this piece of the fender (Produced) on my head two or three times—my head bled a good deal—I ran out of the room and fell in the passage—I sat there till the police came, and then went into my room—I was taken to a doctor, and then sent to the infirmary, and remained therefrom Tuesday to Monday—I have quite recovered now.
By the COURT. I had been quarrelling with my husband for a week previous—I was away from him ill four months—he accused me of pawning things; I wanted the money to get drink.
SARAH TIMOKE . I am the wife of Henry Timoke, a dock labourer—we live in the same house as the prisoner and his wife, below them—on November 4th, between 12 and 1, my husband heard screams, and awoke me—I went out and saw Mrs. Regan sitting outside in a pool of blood—my husband sent for the police—I went into the room, but did not speak to the prisoner; he was sitting on a chair—he had been drinking very heavily all day, but he had had a sleep—I saw blood in their room.
WILLIAM ANDERSON KINLOCH . I am assistant divisional surgeon—Mary Regan was brought to the Police-station at 2 a.m.—she was fairly sober, but loss of blood would effect thatr—she was suffering from a contused wound on her head, and another between her thumb and fingers—they might both have been done with this bar—she had lost considerable blood, and I sent her to the hospital, where she was about a fortnight—the wounds have healed, but she suffers from weakness—there were two spots of blood on the iron bar.
WILLIAM LEONARD (Police Sergeant, K). On November 4th, about 12.45 a.m., I went to this house and saw the prosecutrix sitting on the floor, with her head against the wall—the prisoner was sitting on a chair in the back room—I said to the prosecutrix, "Who did this?'—she said, "My husband"—I said, "What with?"—she said, "With a piece of the fender"—I took him to the station—he said, "What will you do, Mr. Leonard?"—I said, "I know nothing about your quarrel"—he appeared to have been drinking—he had no marks whatever on him—I did not find any smashed basin.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour ,
MR. HOLLOWAY Prosecuted, and MR. GRAIN Defended.
JOHN SPENCER . My wife carries on the business of a stonemason, and I manage it—in March last year I entered into this contract with the prisoner—(To supply stone and labour amounting to £15. Signed, "C. Mayhoe")—that was signed in my office, and I signed one of the same character—I proceeded to do the work, and got several sums on account—on February 21st this year I got a cheque for £23 5s. for the six houses—I paid it into my bank, and it was returned on March 1st, dishonoured—I was ill at the time, and did not get out till a month afterwards—this is the entry in my cheque-book—I found afterwards that my office-boy sent it back to the prisoner, by mistake—I have never received the money—I afterwards proceeded to do the work at eight houses in Halley Road, and gave this estimate—(Agreeing to furnish Bath stone for the houses in Halley Road for £8 each house.)—I prepared the whole of the stonework, and delivered it, and fixed the biggest part of it; it took 7s. 6d. a day per man for the labour—on the 25th I received this letter from the ground landlord: "Do not. send the stonework; I will see you tomorrow," otherwise I should have had it; £2 10s. would have finished everything—I had an interview with the prisoner early in April; we went through the whole of the work, and he gave me two bills for £40 and £32 10s., and a cheque for £10—it was agreed that he owed me £82 10s.,—I made out the statement in full, and he took it away with him—on April 29th I received this letter, asking me not to present the £10 cheque the next day—it had been postdated to enable me to finish my week's work—the bills were presented, and dishonoured, and the cheque has never been paid—I saw the prisoner between then and June, and he informed me that the ground landlord had taken possession—it was not in respect of this bill; it was for the stonework which had never been finished.
By the COURT. This small document is in Mayhoe's writing on the same occasion that he gave me the cheque and bills—he advised me to apply to the ground landlord; he wrote me out a document which I should write—I have not got it—I applied through Mr. Canthook, the solicitor, and got £20—that reduced the debt to £62 10s.—the prisoner has never informed me that he is an undischarged bankrupt.
Cross-examined. I sent in this account (Produced) for Cottenham Road for £110 8s. 8d., in reference to six houses—claimed £10 too much
—the amount of the Oottenham Road contract was £93 10s.—I received £90 on account of work done generally—I was going on with the Halley Road works—those houses were up and those caps built in months before—this account does not show everything that Mayhoe was indebted to me on January 2nd, 1899—on January 2nd I had supplied door-caps and several other things to eight bouses—I have sent in another account besides this—this is my ledger (Produced)—the writing is sometimes mine and sometimes my clerk's—this is money I put down to bills, and the other is my clerk's—on January 20th, 1899, I had supplied eight houses with door-caps, and done more work—I had sent in an account for that—when I write for money I always send in an account of how we stand——he has never mentioned to me that he has had financial difficulties—he never said, "You know I have been in difficulties"—I know now that it was said that he was trading in his wife's name, but I never knew it as a fact; I never heard of it—this account is made out to "Mr. Mayhoe, builder,"—the counterpart is signed by me, "M. Spencer and Co."; that is my signature, but it was my wife's business—I am quite sure that, with reference to Cottenham Road, he said nothing about being an undischarged bankrupt—I did not tell him that in consequence of that, I must have the payments made in advance; I told him I had no more work for him without I had some more money, as his account was too big already, and then he came down to my yard, and we went right through the bill—that was on April 9th, 1899—he did not tell me before I did any work in Cottenham Road that he was id difficulties and was undischarged, and I must have payment in advance—I quite contradict that; it is untrue—here are the payments I re-ceived from the starting of the job, seven or eight of them—September 17th, 1898, was the first payment, and I started work three weeks previous to that—he did not owe me a penny when I started the Oottenham Road job—up to January 20th I had done £110 worth of work for him, and a lot more—I supplied the stone he sent for—I have done the door-caps and other work up to January, 1899—Mr. Mayhoe had the accounts—when I had done my work I sent in an account, and did not make a copy of it—I cannot tell you what was due to me on January 21st, 1899, because there were little slips which the foreman put down in the shop, and we reckoned them up, and the slips were destroyed—I cannot say whether it was £1 or 1s. or £100—this is my receipt of February 21st, 1899, with a printed heading, "Received of Mr. Mayhoe, £23 5s."—we destroyed the papers on the settlement of the account—there was also a cheque for work which I had done in the Oottenham Road—that was paid into my bank, and was dishonoured—the prisoner did not come to my office before March 11th and pay me tho whole of the amount in cash of the dishonoured cheque—I did not see him at that time—neither I nor my wife received £23 on account of the dishonoured cheque—my wife was in the hospital, and I was ill at the time, and did not see him for over a month—I thought it was still unpaid, and returned it to him because it was taken into account in the two dishonoured bills—here is in my ledger, "Mayhoe, February 21st, £23 5s." to my credit, but I swear that I have not received that—I do not keep clerks to keep my books—the prisoner has a paper showing how
that £23 5s. was dealt with—he came to my office, and we went through the accounts, and he took them away—I received these two bills on April 9th, 1899—they represent what he owed me at that time—the two bills and one cheque were the whole of our account up to that date, including what had to be done at the Halley Road houses, and work to be done after-wards in Halley Road, which I could not finish—I was stopped—the Halley Road work came to about £4—he came for his account for that on April 9th, and I gave it to him—this letter to Mr. Castle, the solicitor, is signed by a clerk by my authority: "Will you please apply to Mr. Sharpies for £23 10s. for the stone at Halley Road, which belongs to me"—Mr. Sharpies is the ground landlord, who seized the stone, and I claimed £32 as the value of it, and got £20—I did not fix it—I credited Mayhoe with it—this "July 6th, 1899, received by cheque £20," included everything, but I had not got that £20 from Sharples when I started this action—I went with Mayhoe and Sharpies, and valued the stone—he said, "You had better write for £32 10s.," and I did so—when these bills were given the prisoner did not say, "You will not be able to negotiate my bills at the bank, but you will my wife's, the same as the cheques have always been honoured by her"—I paid both these cheques into my bank, and they were returned—he did not say that to me—I tried to negotiate the bills at the bank, and they refused to discount them—I did not tell him that they would not discount them as he was an undischarged bankrupt—before August, 1898, I had done a considerable amount of work for him and had been paid for it, but I may say that I never saw him for three or four years previous to this case.
Re-examined. I saw the prisoner sign these bills myself—I saw him put these figures in—I said, "I have got such a lot of business, I have to have more than one banking account"—I put this crock in the ledger at £23 5s.—I heard the prisoner give his evidence at the Police-court, and heard Mr. Grain say, "Did you receive this cheque for £23 5s.?" and the prisoner said he paid it two or three days after the cheque had come back—the cheque was not paid into my bank till February 27th, and it was returned on March 1st, and for the whole of that time I was ill in bed, and for a month after—here is a letter from my doctor when I paid his bill.
CHARLES SPENCER . I am foreman to Mrs. Spencer—I was employed by her in February and March—Mr. Spencer was confined to his bed at the latter end of February and the beginning of March—I remember a cheque for £23 5s. being received and paid in on February 27th, and it was returned dishonoured on March 1st—I took it to the governor, who was in bed, and he told me to take off the bolts—I sent the boy round to get the cheque back—I saw Mrs. Mayhoe—the prisoner has never paid me the £23 5s.—he never came into the yard till six weeks afterwards—I was present when he had an interview with Mr. Spencer—I saw these bills given, and the cheque to settle the account—I helped them, I was in there part of the time—the slips were destroyed.
Cross-examined. I saw the last witness in bed; he told me to instruct the boy to go to Mrs. Mayhoe with the slip from the bank, and instead of that the boy took the cheque as well—the prisoner would have to go through the yard to get to the office.
Re-examined. He could not see Mr. Spencer, because he was ill in bed, and therefore he would see me.
WILLIAM STEPHENS . I am office lad to Mrs. Spencer—I remember a cheque for £23 5s. coming back from the bank, and I sent it, with a message, by post—I tried to get it back—I saw the prisoner, and said I should get the sack if I did not get the cheque—he said that he would come and see Mr. Spencer—he did not come to the office—Mr. Spencer was very ill—a long time afterwards the prisoner came and had a discussion, and I helped them, and the prisoner wrote out the bills—I did not hear any reference made to the cheque that I was sent about—the prisoner made his statement, which was rectified at the interview.
By the COURT. Before these bills were given nothing was said about the cheque for £23 odd—I did not see it again—I do not remember when the last time was that I went for it.
Evidence in reply.
Cross-examined. The account shows a deficiency of £132 2s. 7d.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath sated that he had never applied for his discharge in bankruptcy; that his business was carried on by his wife, who had a separate estate; that he had known Mr. Spencer seven years, and told him that as he was undischarged, any business between them must be paid for every week, and that he signed the two bills himself, having his wife's authority to do so; that Mr. Spencer said, "Well, we have been friends for some years, and you are in the same position as myself; you cannot claim your own name "; that his real name was Charles Johnson Mathew Mayhoe, and that I. M. Mayhoe was his wife, but that he signed the bills in question, and that though they were not paid, Spencer had the money afterwards, and the cheque was honoured at the bank; that he liquidated the dishonoured cheque for £23 5s., by paying cash to Spencer in March, but had not brought a single book into Court to show his payments, and that it was Spencer who said to him, "You are an undischarged bankrupt."
GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Recorder
, to forging a receipt for the payment of money; also to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Wallin, and stealing two coats and othsr articles; he having been convicted of felony at Newington Sessions on February 9th, 1898, in the name of James Taylor. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Nine other convictions were proved against him— Three Years' Penal Servitude. And
(41) WILLIAM SPRINGHALL (32) , to three indictments for feloniously forging and uttering requests for the payment of £2 10s., £3, and £2, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Darling.
MR. EUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. ELLIOTT and MR. FITCH Defended.
GUILTY . He then Pleaded Guilty to two indictments charging him with carnally knowing Nesta Wynne, a girl under the age of 13, and Eleanor Sherrell, a girl under the age of 16.—Penal Servitude for Life.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WOODGATE, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
JOHN BEARD (Detective, L). On Saturday afternoon, November 4th, I was with another plain clothes officer in the Westminster Bridge Road—I saw the prisoner and a woman outside the Horse and Groom about 3 p.m.—they went in with a third man—when they came out we followed them into the Tower public-house—in an adjoining bar I heard one of them say,"Get a load"; that means a number of coins—we lost sight of them till about 5 o'clock—they went into the Horse and Groom again—they came out and went along Kennington Road to opposite No. 140—the second, man with the prisoner was about to cross the road, when I caught the prisoner, and Keys caught the woman—I told the prisoner I was a police-officer, arid suspected him of possessing counterfeit coins—he struck roe on the head with his fist, and butted me in the stomach with his knee—I saw him throw something away which sounded on the payment like metal—we had gone on a tram to Kennington Road—I had to strike the prisoner with my truncheon on the left shoulder, and across the legs several times—two private individuals came to my assistance—I searched the prisoner—I found 10s. in gold and 10s. 6d. in silver and bronze—I took him to Kennington Police-station, and communicated with Sergeant Wright, who went to examine the ppot where I had seen the prisoner throw something away—I was severely shaken; I had pains in my stomach for some time—I still continued on duty—the prisoner was charged with the woman at the station, and these seven counterfeit crowns produced—two other coins were shown the prisoner by Wright—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I could not have arrested you with-out assistance—I have never said, "I was put through it by two men, and I have made up my mind always to put men through it before they have time to put me through it"—I saw your hand go into your pocket—a handkerohief was picked up, which your sister said belonged to her.
CHARLES KEYS . I was with Beard, and followed these persons—I heard someone say, "Get a load!"—I went with Beard on a tramcar to opposite 140, Kennington Road—I caught the woman by the right arm and shoulder—she took these seven coins from her pocket, which I took from her hand—they were wrapped in this paper—I tried to assist Beard, but the woman was pulling the opposite way—I saw another man walk away—as we got about half-way across the road he ran.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you struggling with the officer.
CHARLES WRIGHT (Detective, L), When the prisoner was brought into Kennington Lane Station Beard made a statement, and described a place to me—I found in the garden of No. 138 these two counterfeit crowns—I took them to the station the following morning—I found these five other counterfeit crowns, and this handkerchief close to them, in the garden of No. 140—the prisoner was charged with being concerned with the woman in having possession—he made no reply.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner, I found the coins on the grass about 5 ft. from the roadway—there is a coping and some railings.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—I have 14 counterfeit crowns before me, of different moulds—amongst those thrown away are some of—die same moulds as those found on the woman—a "load" means a packet of about 20 coins.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath said that he had not acted in concert with the woman or the other man referred to, but he met them accidentally, and they asked him to have a drink, the woman having pawned some clothes For 15s.
Witness for the Defence.
FREDERICK BANBURY . I am a barman at the Tower public house, Westminster Bridge Road—I failed to identify Gunn till I saw him in the dock—I recognised two detectives as being in the Tower public house.
GUILTY .—He then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of a like offence on October 6th, 1897, at Leicester (See next case).
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
CHARLES KEYS repeated his former evidence, and added; I said to Stewart, "lama police-officer, and I suspect you of having counterfeit coins in your possession"—she said, "What is the matter?" and placed her right hand on her pocket—I caught her right arm—she had seven counterfeit crowns in her hand, in this paper—I took her to the station—she was charged with being in possession of these coins, with intent to utter—she said,. "That is right"—she was searched—I saw no pawn ticket.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not speak to you on the way to thestation.
The Prisoner, in her defence, stated that the parcel was given to her, but she did not know what it contained.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Hard Labour. Several convictions were proved against GUNN— Four Years Penal Servitude.
MR. BOYD Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended Most.
CHARLES BLUNDEN . I am an undertaker's assistant, of 32, Weymouth Terrace, Hackney Road—I was in Waterloo Road between 12 and 1 on November 5th—I had a few words with my wife—I was not sober—a man pushed me and said, "Why don't you let the woman alone?"—I said, "I beg your pardon, sir; that is my wife"—about half a dozen yards past the women's and children's hospital I was pinned in the back, and doubled in a kneeling position, with my head into my throat—I could scarcely breathe, and could not speak—money between 12s. and 14s. was taken from my pockets, from behind me—I was thrown on my right side, and kicked, I believe, by Burke—I was put in a cab to be driven home, a constable stopped the cab, and I went to the station—my pockets were turned inside out.
Cross-examined by Burke. You were the only one with a cap, but I was blinded, and could not see.
CATHAKINK SMART . I live at 78, Dodson Street, Waterloo Road—I was in the Waterloo Road, and saw the prosecutor and his wife quarrelling they were separated by a policeman—the prosecutor walked 15 to 20 yards, when four men coming towards the bridge attacked the prosecutor from behind—Moss put his hands in the prosecutor's pocket; Burke kicked him; another said, Come away"—I said, "Why don't you leave the man alone?"—Moss said, "Mind your own business, or I will serve you the same"—I went and spoke to the policeman, who was speaking to the prosecutor's wife—when we got back Moss, Burke, and another man not in custody were walking away—I pointed out Moss, who, with Burke, was taken into custody—Moss said, "Oh! you wicked woman, to lock me up.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I heard Moss tell the policeman he had nothing to do with the matter—I walked backwards, and kept my eyes on the prisoners for 15 yards—when the policeman went up to them Moss started running—he ran in the direction of the policeman on the pavement I said at the Police-court, "I did not notice these three men until the second occasion"—it had lasted then about 10 minutes.
Cross-examintd by Burke. I saw you kicking the man on the ground—you stood there—you walked away when the policeman came—you flung yourself on the ground.
Re-examined. I first saw Moss rifling the prosecutor's pockets, and
Burke kicking him while on the ground—I kept my eye on them whilst walking back to the policeman—I never lost sight of them.
ROBKRT JAUKLEY (256 L). About 12.30 a.m. on November 5th Mrs. Smart directed my attention to the prisoners—I arrested Moss for assault—he was walking very fast past me—he said, "I have done nothing"—I took him to the station—when charged he made the same statement.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. It was about 1 o'clock—he went with me quietly—16 to 20 people were there.
HENRY MAINE (230 L). My attention was called to the prosecutor and his wife quarrelling—I tried to get them away—his wife refused—she had had a drop to drink—I heard shouts of "Police!" and "Murder!" 30 yards away—I went in that direction—I saw two men running away—I stopped Burke—when I got to the crowd someone shouted, "This is the man that kicked him"—the prosecutor was rising from the ground—he was in a very weak state—he had been kicked in the head—I took him to the station, where he was examined.
Cross-examined by Burke. You were coming towards Waterloo Station from the direction of the bridge, about,10 yards from the crowd—you tried. to get out of my way—you threw yourself: on the ground, and became very; violent—I did not thump you on the way to the station—I got assistance.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I saw several running at the same time.
EDWIN ROWS . I am a Police Surgeon, of 153, Kennington Park Road—the prosecutor was brought to the station about 1.30 a.m, on November 5th—he was suffering from a contusion over the lid of his left eye a considerable swelling; a wound upon his forehead over his right eye, 3/4 in long; two wounds below the brow on the right, under the eye, about 3/4 in. long; and over the centre of the eye the skin was torn over the other side, all recenti wounds—they were nob serious, but severe—some might have been done by a fist the others were from kicks.
Moss, in his defence, on oath said he saw A crowd, and went to look an, and that only 3s. 9d. was found on him, Burkes in his defence on vath. said he had only left his companions on his way home, when he was arrested; that he ran because he'wanted to get home.
MOSS— NOT GUILTY . BURKE— GUILTY of assault, with intent to rob , He then pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony at Southwork Police-court on January 11th, 1898. Another conviction was proved against him,— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 11TH, 1899.