CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 11TH, 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.
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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, December 11th, 1899, and following days,
Before the Kight Hon. ALFRED JAMES NEWTON, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir GAINSFORD BRUCE, one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart, M.P.; Sir DAVID EVANS , K.C.M.G.; Sir MARCUS SAMUEL , Knt.; WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN , Esq.; JOHN POUND , Esq.; FREDERICK PRATT ALISTON, Esq., 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. SECOND SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, December 11th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CUNDY Prosecuted.
During the progress of the case the prisoner Pleaded Guilty, upon which the JURY returned a verdict of GUILTY .— Twelve Months Hard Labour.
MR. ELLIOTT proeecuted.
EDWARD SPROLL . I am a commercial traveller, of 17, Stanley Street, Clapham—on November 11th, at 11.30 p.m., I was leaving the stage door of the Adelphi Theatre—I had a bicycle on which I was about to proceed home—I stood it against the door while I returned to fetch a paper—when I returned my bicycle was gone—I heard something, went down the Strand, and saw Casson with my bicycle—James tried to stop me—I said to Casson, "What are you doing with this bicycle?"—he said that somebody had told him that it was his—he was wheeling it as fast as he could—James was close behind him, and tried to get in my way—he told me it was all right—he spoke to Casson, and then tried to persuade me not to give him into custody.
WILLIAM GEORGE MEAD . I am a postman, of 78, High Holborn—on November 11th I was near the Adelphi Theatre in Bull's Inn Court—I saw a gang of about six men come down the court, and Casson took the bicycle away down the court—it was standing just below the stage door—I went in at the stage door and told the prosecutor that his machine was taken away—we went in chase, and caught the prisoners up just outside the Hotel Cecil—I saw James with the gang, and when we got into the Strand he came up and argued the points—he was with Casson—I did not hear what he said to Casson.
over a bicycle—I went up, and the prosecutor said: "These two men have stolen my bicycle from Bull's Inn Court"—he gave them into custody—they did not make any statement. GUILTY .
JAMES then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on September 7th, 1896— Three Months' Hard Labour. CASSON— Twelve Months Hard Labour.
MR. ELLIOTT Prosecuted, and MR. SYMONDS Defended Doolan.
JESSE WILLIAMS . I am a musician, of 67, Sussex Road, Holloway—on the early morning of November 10th I was going up St. Martin's Lane on the righthand side, and when I got to New Street I saw the prisoners standing there—Doolan stepped aside, as I thought, to allow me to pass, and as he stepped back I received a very heavy blow with some hard instrument on my right shoulderbone, and I fell down—my hand was in my coat pocket, and as I lay on my back Doolan was over me—I had a valuable diamond ring in my scarf—I felt a hand at my throat—I clutched at the hand, and was struck on my hand—I saved the ring—I was struck with the instrument while I was down—there was a light in the public-house at the corner—I saw their faces quite distinctly—they were photographed in my mind—after the assault I felt a hand in my pocket, where I had £2 10s.—the prisoners ran away—there was no one round—I endeavoured to get up, but my shoulder was so painful that I could not rise—I eventually got on my feet and went along St. Martin's Lane till I met a policeman—I told him, and he took me to Bow Street, where I gave a description of the men—I afterwards went to Bow Street again, and picked out Doolan from eight other men—I have no doubt he is the man who robbed me—I went to Bow Street again and picked out Casson—I have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. The occurrence took a very short time, about two minutes—I do not know St. Martin's Lane well, and I have carefully avoided it since—this was about 12.30—the public-houses were not shut—it was four days afterwards that I picked the prisoner out—Doolan was a total stranger to me—I had had two or three glasses that night, but I was not the worse for it—I do not think that it was noticeable that I had been drinking—I had been to see the Lord Mayor's. Show, and I may have had two or three Scotches.
Re-examined. I was not drunk—when I went to Bow Street Station I was very careful before I picked out the prisoner.
By the COURT. I kept the ring, but I lost my watch and chain and gold locket.
HARRY CALKEN (Policeman). On November 10th, about 1 a.m., the prosecutor came to Bow Street—he made a complaint, and gave a description—he seemed a bit dazed, and I think he had had a g ass or two—he had a bruised shoulder, and had been on the ground—in consequence of the description I made inquiries, and about 2.30 p.m. on November 14th I was in Endell Street when I saw Doolan—it was.
through the prosecutor's description that I was able to arrest him—I went up to him, and told him I should arrest him for stealing a gold watch and chain—he said, "All right, I will go with you"—the prosecutor afterwards picked him out from among eight others—in reply to the charge he said, "I can prove where I was"—nothing was found on him—at 11 a.m. on the 16th I saw Casson in the cell passage—I told him that he answered the description of a man who was wanted for robbing a man on the 10th, and that on that charge he would be put up for identification—he said he knew nothing about it—he was identified as the other man.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. I arrested him from the description I had—that was the first time I saw him—I have been in the force 16 years.
Cross-examined by Casson. I did not say to you, "I believe you are innocent myself, if I can get the medal back I will not prosecute"—I asked you if you knew anything about the locket.
Doolan, in his defence, on oath said that he went to the Eagle public-house at 5 p.m., and then went with some friends at 7 o'clock to the Middlesex Music Hall, where they stayed till about 11.15, when he went home, and to bed.
Evidence for Doolan.
ALBERT JACKSON . I live at 11, Short's Gardens, and am a market porter—on Lord Mayor's day I was with Doolan from 5 p.m. till 7 p.m. in the Eagle public-house in Endell Street—at 7 o'clock Doolan, I, and a few more friends went to the Middlesex Music Hall, where we stayed till 11.10, when we all came out and went into the Eagle again—we call it the "Engine House"—Doolan was still with us—we stayed there till closing time when the barman called out, "Time"—Doolan was with us the whole time—he did not go out for a few minutes—at closing time we all went home together—Doolan lives at the same house as I do—when we got home we all stayed downstairs for about 10 minutes, and then we all went up to bed—Doolan was not away from me from the time we left the music hall till we got home.
Cross-examined. I have known Doolan four or five months—I have known his father for years—in the public-house there were five or six other men with us; one was named Brownie, another we call "Booky," and another Brady—I only drank four ale on this night—I do not know Casson; I know of him—I have never seen him with Doolan—I do not know where he lives.
THOMAS BROWNIE . I am a market gardener, of 11, Short's Gardens, Drury Lane—I met Doolan selling programmes on November 9th, about 5 o'clock, and went with him to the Engine House public-house—we stopped there till 7 p.m., when six or seven of us went to the Middlesex Music Hall—a man named Horam went, and the lasi witness, Bob Brady, Ted Cook, Lurey, Charles Collins, and James Kennedy—we met the barman from the public-house at the music hall—we stayed there till 11.5, when we went to the Engine House—Doolan was still with us—we stayed there till 11.30; then we went home, and had a little jollification, and then went to bed—Doolan was not away from me the whole time.
Cross-examined. I do not know Casson—I have never seen him before—I have known Doolan about five or six months—he lives in the same house with me—I read about this case in the paper—that was the first I heard of it, and I was surprised.
FRANCIS ALBERT BROCKHURST . I am barman at the Engine House—on November 9th I left the public-house at 6.30 p.m.—it was my evening off, and I went—to the Middlesex Music Hall—I saw Doolan and his friends in the public-house when I left, and I afterwards saw them in the music hall—I went back to the public-house at 11.15—I live in the house—I saw Doolan there with his friends—I went behind the bar—they remained in the bar till 12.30, when I called out "Time"—I said goodnight to them.
Cross-examined. I do not know Casson—Doolan is not often in our house—Doolan and his friends left the music hall before I did, and I did not see them for a quarter of an hour after—I got back to the public-house about 11.15 by the public-house clock, about 11.10 by the right time—I cannot say whether Doolan left the house for a minute or two.
Re-examined. Doolan was there when I called "Time"—I call out "Time" about three minutes before I want the people to go.
By the COURT. The, music hall is open every night—we did not expect to have more business on this night than usual—it is only a beer-house.
Evidence for Casson.
CATHERINE CASSON . I am the prisoner's mother—he lives with me at. 14, Kemble Street, Drury Lane—my husband is alive, and works in the market—on November 9th I and my son went out about 7.30 to see the illuminations—we came back about 9.30—we had some supper, and then went to bed—my son did not go out again.
Cross-examined. My son sleeps in my room—I went to sleep, and did not wake up till next morning—my son was then in bed.
CASSON, in his defence, said that as he had been in Holloway Gaol for seven days it would be impossible for the prosecutor to identify him as his appearance had altered.— NOT GUILTY .
50. ROBERT ALFRED JACQUES (45) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a post letter and three postal orders, the property of the PostmasterGeneral, he being employed under the Post Office.— Twelve months' Hard Labour.
51. CHARLES BROWN (29) , to receiving a chequebook and other articles, knowing them to have been stolen, also to forging a cheque for £10 15s. and £15, with intent to defraud— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
52. AUGUSTUS JOHN MARDLIN (29) , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office a post packet containing a dressing case, also a packet containing a bottle of tooth powder, the property of the Postmaster General— Nine Months Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(53) ALFRED BENDA (21) , to embezzling a cheque for £290 4s., the property of his master also to forging and uttering the endorsement to the said order with intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 12th, 1899.
Before Mr. Recorder.
54. CAROLINE BEATRICE LOVE PLEADED GUILTY to stealing two watches, two chain-, and other articles, the property of Joseph Mailer, her master; also to sealing a clock and other articles, the property of Mary Stevenson, her mistress; also to stealing a watch and other articles and £3 in money, the property of Gilbert Soot, her master.— Judgment Respited ,
55. JAMES HITCHENS , to obtaining 12 shirts, four silk petticoats, and other articles; having been convicted on February 14th, 1897. Two other convictions were proved against him .— Three years Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And
(56) ALFRED JAMES TOD (27) , to two indictments for forging and uttering cheques for £5 4s. 2d. and £4 15s. 3d.; also to obtaining the endorsement to a cheque; also to falsifying a requisition form, with intent to defraud.— Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor— Eight Months in the Second Division. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. ELLIOTT Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL appeared for Doolan, and MR. DOHERTY For Horan.
GEORGE BLABY . I am a house decorator, of Upper Marylebone—on November 24th, about 4.45 p.m., I was walking along Dean Street by myself, and was suddenly attacked from behind, thrown on the ground, and kicked on my ankle, and about my body and on my eye—I was attacked by two persons, but did not see either of them—my watch was snatched from my pocket, and the bow broken—I became insensible, but was afterwards sitting up on the ground, and George Taylor brought me my watch—my assailants had then gone, and I am unable to speak to their identity—on the following day I wont to the Police-station with Mr. Taylor—I was not able to follow my employment for over a week, but was not in the doctor's hands—it was just getting dark.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. They are private houses in Dean Street, and there was no light from the shops—it was a dark point, and the public-house lamps were not lit.
Cross-examined by MR. DOHERTY. I did not go to the Police-court the same day because I was all over blood, and it was no use going to give evidence against men whom I could not identify.
Re-examined. I was covered with blood, and not fit to go anywhere except home.
GEORGE TAYLOR . I am a cabdriver, No. 8815—on November 24th, about 4.45 p.m., I was standing in Dean Street, So he, without my cab, and saw two men, following the prosecutor, coming towards me, and about twenty yards from me—they closed on him, kicked him on his ankle, and threw him into the road, where one kicked him and the other struck him—Doolan then ran towards me—I struck him on his chest, and knocked him down—he said, "Here is his watch," and dropped it on the road—I said. "This is cowardly; I cannot see that"—he was then on the ground—I saw his face again—
Doolau is the man, I have no doubt—it was between the lights, but I could see him distinctly—there are private houses on one side of the street and shops on the other, but there were no lights; you could see by the daylight—I stooped to pick up the watch, and then he got up and ran away—the other man ran on the other side of the way; he looked towards me, not full face, but side face; Horan is the man—I have no doubt about him—I then went to the prosecutor, and gave him his watch, and persuaded him to have a cab and go home—he was dazed, and seemed to be cut up; to that I went home with him—I went next day to Marlborough Mews Station, and gave a description of both the prisoners, and on the Thursday following I went to Bow Street, and saw 11 or 12 men in a passage—I had a good look before I recognized any one, and then I touched Doolan with my hat and said, "This is the man"—on the Friday evening I inspected another row of men, and identified Horan—Doolan had been remanded on the Thursday, and I had given evidence against him—Horan was in a room at the station with nine others, and I picked him out—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined by ME. PURCELL. I had never seen either of the prisoners before—it was not dark; there were no shop lights, to my memory—it was a beautiful day—he was under my observation three or four seconds when he gave me the watch, and in a moment like that you take more notice—the men at Bow Street were all ages and sizes, some fair, some dark; some had beards, and some not; but I cannot make a mistake about him.
Cross-examined by MR. DOHERTY. Doolan was getting into a full run, and did not stop till I stopped him; and when I was picking up the watch I saw Horan—he did not attempt to assist Doolan; I saw his side face as he ran—it had been a beautiful day; I had been clipping horses, and you cannot clip horses between lights—I did not tell the police that night, because the prosecutor was not in a fit state—the inspector at the station asked me if I could identify the man; I said "Yes"—about eight men were in the station with Horan; I picked him out, because his face was the same, the first time I clapped my eyes on him—I knew him, but I had a second look at him.
EDWARD DARBY (Detective, E). On Friday, November 24th, at 1 o'clock, I saw Horan at the corner of Long Acre—I told him I was going to arrest him for being concerned with Thomas Doolan on suspicion of robbing a man—he said, "I have not been with Doolan for some time; we are enemies; I can prove where I was"—he was identified the same day, about 5 p.m.—he said that he wanted some persons to be warned—I said that I would take their names down—he said, "From 8 to 9 o'clock I was in a public-house, and Patsy was in it; when I went to the lodging-house the early part of the time I was knocking about the house till I ordered the van about 6 p.m."—at that time I had not told him the exact time the robbery took place—next morning I said that I could not find the coalman—he said, "A man named Kuch can prove I went there, and about 6 o'clock I should have the van"—that' was written down at his dictation when we were waiting to go before the Magistrate, not when he was formally called upon.
Cross-examined by MR. DOHERTY. Horan was detained six or seven hours while we sent for Sergeant McCarthy, who told him the date and the time of the robbery—Taylor identified him at once.
WILLIAM MCARTHUR (Police Sergeant, C). On November 13th, at 4.30 p.m., I was in Old Compton Street, and as I approached the corner of Dean Street I saw the two prisoners standing with another man at the corner—I know the prisoners by sight, but not by name—they were under 200 yards from the spot where the robbery took place, which has been pointed out to me—I have known them by sight two-and-a-half years—next day I heard of the robbery, and a description was given me of the persons who were supposed to have committed it—I went to Bow Street, and Taylor picked out Doolan from 12 others; he was then charged, and made no reply—next day I saw Horan at Bow Street; he was placed among eight others, and Taylor identified him—I charged him with being concerned with a man named Doolan in assaulting a gentleman; he said, "I don't know anything about it; I can prove where I was"—I first received information on the 14th.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I have seen Doolan in that neighborhood two or three times every week on an average with Horan, and at all hours, and, of course, I knew them on this occasion.
Cross-examined by MR. DOHERTY. I saw them together on November 13th; that is their usual neighborhood—there was nothing suspicious about either of them—I have seen the third man with the prisoners, and selling papers—I received the description the evening after the robbery, and then I turned over in my mind what persons I had seen in that neighbourhood.
The Prisoner's Statements before the Magistrate: Doolan says: "I have nothing to say here." Horan says: "I shall be able to prove where I was at the time, but my witnesses are not here. I have written out my defense, and wish to put it in."
Doolan, in his defence, stated on oath that he knew McArthur, but did not notice him at 3.30, or at all; that he had a drink with two other men, and left them about 3.50 at Newman Street, Oxford Street, and then went home, stopped there half an hour, and then went out to a coffeeshop at 4.50, and came out at 5.40, and that the coffeeshop was 40 yards from the spot where he was alleged to have been.
Horan, in his defense, on oath said that about 2.30 he went to Bloomsbury with a man named James Edwards; that he returned to Edwards' shop in Great Wild Street at 2.50; that he then went to Shore ditch with Edwards, and did not return to Great Wild Street till about till 4.30; that he then went to order a van, and returned to the shop at about 5.20, and said that the van would be there at 7.
EDWARD DARBY (Re-examined). When Horan told me that he had been knocking about in Drury Lane till he ordered the van, I had not told him the time of the alleged robbery, but while I was away from the station Sergeant Callaghan saw the prisoner, and I think he must have told him.
SERGEANT CALLAGHAN. I told Horan that the robbery had been committed between 3 and 4, about 4.45.
Evidence for Horan.
JAMES EDWARDS . I live at 3, Great Wild Street—I saw Horan about 2.30 outside my shop on November 13th—he went with me to Mr. Woodyard's, at Bloomsbury, where I bought a pair of soles and some nails—I gave them to Horan, and he took them to my brother Alexander, at 3, Great Wild Street—I told him to meet me at Southampton Row; that was about 10 minutes to 3—I told him I was going to Shoreditch, and he could go with me if he liked—we got on a tram, and went to Shoreditch—we then went to Bethnal Green Road, and I went into a ware-house and bought my goods—I gave the parcel to Horan, and he carried it for me to Shoreditch Church, where we got on a tram and returned to Great Wild Street, at about 4.30 or 4.40—I then left the prisoner talking to my brother, and I went down to tea—the prisoner was making arrangements to order a van to do some moving which took place that evening—I left the shop about 4.50—I did not see the prisoner fterwards.
Cross-examined. I do not know Doolan—Horan has often been to our shop, but I have never had any dealings with him; he is a pal of my brother—I should think he knows my father—he could not see my father now; he is away; he is out of town, through a little mistake he made; that little mistake was receiving stolen property—my father never had any dealings with Horan—we are about 15 minutes' walk from Dean Street, Soho—I cannot say if Horan had been knocking about Drury Lane till he ordered the van, he was not after 2.30, because he was with me, and right up to 4.40—I do not know the man who keeps the van—the van was for my brother.
ALEXANDER EDWARDS . I live at 51, Great Coram Street, and carry on business at Great Wild Street as a bootmaker—about 2.45 on November 13th Horan brought a pair of soles and some nails to my shop—he told me he had to meet my brother in Southampton Row, and left at once, and came back at 4.30 with some leather on his shoulder which he had brought from Shoreditch; my brother was with him—the prisoner talked to me for about 10 minutes, and then my brother went downstairs and had his tea—I asked Horan if he would go to Endell Street to order a van—I gave him sixpence, and he went and returned at 5.20 and said the van would come at 7, but it did not come till 8 o'clock—I moved my goods, that night, and the prisoner helped me.
Cross-examined. He was going to get the van from a man named Green, who is not here—I have not asked Green if the prisoner went to him, but the van came—I do not know what he was doing from the time he left me till 7 o'clock—I know Doolan by sight; I have seen him with Horan—I have known Horan four or five years—he used to sell papers and work in the market, and do odd jobs for us.
They then Pleaded Guilty to previous convictions; DOOLAN on November 22nd, 1897, at this Court; and HORAN on November 1st, 1895; seven other convictions were proved against him. DOOLAN †— Four Years' Penal Servitude. HORAN †— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour
The COURT awarded Taylor £3 for his services.
58. THOMAS NEWBODY (41) and HENRY SEYMOUR (26), PLEADED GUILTY To burglary in the dwelling-house of Frederick Henry Herbet, with intent to steal; also to breaking and entering the Church of St. John the Baptist, and stealing three chalices and other articles; also to breaking and entering a Wesleyan chapel, and stealing therefrom, a quantity of electroplate; Newbody having been convicted on May 2nd, 1899, and Seymour on November 22nd, 1898.— Six Years each inPenal Servitude.
61. JOHN HARTMAN (28) , to breaking and entering a shop of the British Tea Table Company, with intent to steal; also to being found by night in possession of housebreaking implements; having been convicted of fel lony on January 2nd, 1893.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
62. JOHN GOODWIN (40) , to stealing five pairs of socks, the goods of Wm. Hy. Smith ; also to wounding Thomas Lawless, with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.— Six Months' Hard Labour for Stealing, and Five Years' Penal Servitude for Wounding, to run concurrently. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 13th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
ALFRED EDWARDSR (Police Sergeant). I am stationed at Grays, Essex—I have known the prisoners there for two years, and since December last have kept observation on them—they lived in the London Road—I have met them on the railway platform at Grays when they have been going. towards London.
Cross-examined by David. You had opened your shop six or seven weeks before.
CLARISSA B. LOADER . I am assistant clerk at Robertson's Post Office,. 190, Upper Street, Islington—on September 21st Shine came in about 3 P.m., and asked for postal orders for £2—he spoke English—he tendered a sovereign, two halfsovereigns, and some small money for the orders—I examined the coins; and thought one of the halfsovereigns was bad from its colour—I gave it back, and he gave me another, which I took to be a good one, and I issued the orders, and he left—I found this bad halfsovereign (Produced) in the till in the evening—I gave information, and saw him again when in custody.
HAHRIET LOUISA COX . I am assistant at Vigo Street Post-office—about 4 p.m. on September 29th David came in for postal orders for 45s.—he spoke English—I gave him these two orders, marked "C" and "F"—he gave me three half-sovereigns and a sovereign, which I put in a bowl on the counter—there were no other coins in it—Miss Steggall afterwards, pointed out this coin to me (Produced),
MARY ANN HARRISON . I am assistant at Vigo Street Post-office—David came there about 4.5 p.m. on September 29th for orders for 40s.—I got the orders for him—he paid with a sovereign, two half-sovereigns, and a shilling; I issued orders I.) and E—I put the money into a small box—there was no other gold there—about five minutes after Miss Steggall (picked out a bad half-sovereign.
CAROLINE STEGGALL . I am head clerk at Vigo Street office—I examined the money bowl of Miss Cox and the moneybox of Miss Harrison on September 29th'—I cannot say what I found in Miss Cox's—I found this bad half-sovereign in the box—it is my duty to examine those receptacles from time to time.
SARAH HASLER . I am the wife of the postmaster at South Ockendon, Essex—I cashed the postal order, E 60730, issued by Miss Harrison to Shine—I do not remember who presented it—it bears the name "W. David" as payee—I saw the man write his name at the bottom—I do not recognise the prisoners.
ALICE HASLER . I am the daughter of the last witness, and Live with her at South Ockenden Post-office—it is a shop as well—the orders C and D were brought there on October 11th by David—to the best of my belief—he signed his name in my presence, and I gave him the cash—South Ockendou is four miles from Grays, and is the next station on the way to Southend.
OLIVE DAGMAN . I am clerk at the sub-Post-office, North End, East Ham—David came there on October 10th, about 12 o'clock, and asked for postal orders for 45s.—he gave me the money, and I noticed that one halt-sovereign was bad—I said I thought it was cracked—he had put down one sovereign, two half-sovereigns, and three florins—I rang the bell for Mr. Pilgrim, the postmaster—he came, and after he had a conversation with him I issued to him these postal orders by Mr. Pilgrim's instructions, David having given me another half-sovereign—I found all the money in my till good at night.
JOHN PILGRIM . I am subpostmaster at North End, East Ham—the last witness rang for me on October 10th, and showed, me this coin—David waws there—I asked him where he got it from, and if he had any more like it—he opened his purse, and said he took it in the ordinary way of business—he had several good half-sovereigns in his purse—I asked him where he came from—he opened his pocket-book, in which he had several letters—I asked him where he was going to send the postal orders to, and be partly satisfied me as to his bona fides—I asked him his name and address—he said, "William David, photographer and jeweller, Reading Room, South Ockendon"—I kept the coin, and said it would be sent to the District Post-office.
with him—he wrote on the back of it, by my request, "W. David,. 116, High Street, Grays, Essex; Ockendon Church"
THOMAS HENRY GUERRIN . I have had 15 years' experience in the examination of handwriting—I have examined the writing on the back of the photo and on these postal orders—I say that the writing, "W. David," on all is by the same person.
DAVID COX (Police-sergeant). I received information about these coins—I went to Marlborough Street Police-court, and obtained a warrant on November 21st—on the 22nd I went to 116, High Street, Grays, and saw David in the shop—I told him I was a police-officer, and held a warrant for the arrest of a mm for uttering counterfeit half-sovereigns—I read the warrant to him, and asked him if he thoroughly understood what I said—he said, "Yes, repeat it"—I then read it over a second time distinctly and slowly to him—he said, "Yes; but would you tell me where Vigo Street is situated, because I have had a lot of postal orders lately"—I said, "In Regent Street"—he said, "Yes, I remember now; I got two orders there, but that is about six weeks or two months asro; they did not tell me the money was bad"—I said, "They did not discover it until you had gone"—he laughed, and then said, "A man was with me, and got some stamps. The man, I think it was at the West Ham Post-office, would not take the half-sovereign. I asked him to give it me back, but he kept it, and asked me for my name and address I have not been in London for some time; but how did you find out I was down here?"—I took him to London, and he was charged—he made no reply—he spoke good English—it was only on the following day that he discovered he could not speak English—he had a long conversation with the detective at the Police-station—I foutfcf this gilded medal in his sholu (Produced), and also an electric dynamo battery and two bottles of solution, one for silvering and one for gold, also a purse and a sixpence, the word "sixpence" having been effaced—I searched the prisoner, and! found 13s. in silver; the other sixpences in the purse were good—Williamson is not here, being laid up—I saw him sign this deposition at the Police. Court—the prisoners were asked by the Magistrate if they had any questions to put—they had not.
(William Williamson's deposition was here read.)
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint, and have had great experience—I have examined what purport to be four counterfeit half-sovereigns, but they are really creations out of ordinary sixpences—it was a very clever, but simple, alteration—the reverse side is obliterated, and this impression put on [That of a half-sovereign], and it is then gilded—it might deceive the unwary, but it is incapable of ringing.
David, in his defence, said that he was not aware that the coins were false; that he had beenin Crete for six months, employed by a photographer; that the coins of all countries have currency there; that he saved some £40 worth of various coins; that he brought the coins from there, and bought the postal orders to send by letter in exchange for purchases he made.
Shine, in his defence, said that he first bought' a postal order for £2 at Upper Street, Islington, and tendered the halfsovereign at Vigo Street; that he had known David over two years; working at the same place
that David went abroad and came back after about seven months, and said he has saved £55 or £60, and wanted to start as watchmaker and jeweler, and asked him to come to London with him, which he did three or four times, and went to Vigo Street Post-office, where he asked David to buy him an order for 40s.; that he gave it to David, and did not know anything more about it, or that the sixpences were gilded.
DAVID— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Hard Labour. SHINE— NOT GUILTY .
Mr. PASSMORE Prosecuted.
JOHN THOMAS CLEART . I am a licensed cartminder, of Upper Thames Street—I look after the fish that the porters bring from the market, and am answerable for it—on December 7th, about 8.30 a.m., I saw the prisoner walk behind a van of Billingham's and pick up a box of fish—he went into Arthur Street West—I followed him—he threw it down and went into a public-house portico—I brought a police-officer, and told him I should charge him with stealing a box of fish from a van in Upper Thames Street—he said, "This takes the cake!"—I did not lose sight of him.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I daresay I followed you a quarter of a mile—I saw a constable when I got to the Electric Railway Station—I said to him, "Come this way, please; I want you to take a man into custody"—the box was taken to the Police-station.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I did not steal the box; I am not guilty of it."
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that he went to see the foreman at Thames Street, and asked for a ticket to go to work, which he gave him, and was then arrested.
Witness for the Defence.
JOSEPH ALFORD . I am a barman, and live at 28, Barnsbury Street—the prisoner came to me last Friday morning between 8.25 and 8.30, and I went with him to Thames Street, and had a drink and left him there—he told me he was going to see Ted Clark—I am sure it was as late as I say—it was about 8 o'clock when you asked me to go with you—I came straight over London Bridge, and he went the Tower Bridge way.
Cross-examined. He is a fruit porter—these tickets are given to every porter—you have to give up one ticket before you can get another.
Prisoner's Defence: The prosecutor has made a mistake in identifying me; I worked seven years for Alderman Isaacs, he has two warehouses there; I was married in 1891, and I was there then.
GUILTY . He then Pleaded Guilty to a eonviction at Maid stone in 1896.— Nine Months Hard Labour.
undertook the charge of him.— To enter into Recogizanees to appear for judgment if called upon.
67. EDWARD ASH WORTH HARVEY (51) , to two indictments for forging and uttering cheques for £6 188. 10d. and £6 0s. 4d., with intent to defraud; also to making certain false entries in his employer's books.— Twelve months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
68. ABRAHAM LURIE (24) , to stealing a bracelet, the property of John Atterbury — Three Months' Hard Labour. James Brown, constable in the case, was commended by the MAGISTRATE and the GRAND JURY. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(69) WILLIAM SCOTT (50) , to unlawfully converting to his own use a cheque for £105 16s. which had been entrusted to him as a broker.— He received a good character, and had restored the whole amount.— To enter into Recognizances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Thursday, December 14th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
No evidence was offered.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. LOUIS Prosecuted.
DAVID JONES . I am a painter, of 4, Parliament Street—on August 12th, 1892, I was present when the prisoner married my wife's daughter, Annie Wood—they lived together four years, and she is living with me now; he left her four years ago, and she returned to my home—he did not communicate with her there—I continued to live in the same house.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Your marriage was in 1892, not 1895.
By the COURT. He was not a grocer, he was an organ grinder—his father is described as a musician.
GERTRUDE GOOCH . I saw an advertisement in a newspaper, which I have not kept, in consequence of which I made the prisoner's acquaintance at the end of March—he said that he was a captain in the Navy, and was a widower, that his wife was a Spanish girl, and died abroad—I went through the ceremony of marriage with him on May 19th, at Southend—we lived together some time, but he used to leave me for several days together and come back to me—he did not do any work—after we were married he said that his former wife was a Welsh girl—he induced me to sell my furniture.
By the COURT. I lived with him before I married him—I had a comfortable home of my own—he treated me very badly after we were married; he struck me—I found out that his wife was living when the detective came to me.
The Prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defense, stated that he fully believed that his wife was dead, having been told so by a man named George Turner, and that he only married the prosecutor to
make her right in the eyes of her friends— GUILTY . The Police stated that the prisoner was in the habit of advertising for a wife in the Army and Navy newspapers, and that he had obtained £250 from girls since September, 1898, by inducing them to leave their situations and obtaining their money and clothing, and had been convicted of obtaining money by false pretences.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. JONES Prosecuted.
GUILTY . Two previous convictions were proved against WHITE, one of winch was for gross indecency.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. KING— To enter into recoanizances.
73. AUSTIN McMANUS (26) and EDWARD CORBETT (60) PLEADED GUILTY to obtaining by false pretences from James Alexander Middleton and others £2 and other sums; Corbett having been convicted at Bristol on October 25th, 1892.
CORBETT— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. McMANUS—Three Months' Imprisonment in the Second Division.
GEORGE PENFOLD (672, City). On November 23rd, about 5.40, I was on duty at the south end of London Bridge—I heard shouts of "Police!" and saw the prisoner running; I followed him through the traffic—he ran from one side of the bridge to the other, and I caught him at the same place where he stood when he took the watch and chain; he said, "Not in"—Mr. Jones, who is 75 years old, came up and said, "That man has just stolen my watch and chain"—a gentleman in the crowd said, "He has just dropped it," and handed me a watch, chain, and seal—I told him he would have to go to the station—he put his hand in his pocket and said, "If you don't let me go I will blow your brains out," pointing a revolver at my head—I snatched it away from him, and at the north end of the station got assistance and took him to the station—there were five cartridges in the revolver, and I found four more in his pocket—he was charged at the station, and made no reply.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The pin was out of the revolver—you could not fire it with the pin in; it would not go off, but the pin was in the position for it to go off—it was out.
Prisoner's Defence: My statement is that the pin was in the revolver, and that it could not be pulled; I only did it to frighten him.
GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Clerkenwell on July 6th, 1896, at North London Sessions. Several other convictions were proved against him, and he had still 330 days of his last sentence to serve,— Five Years' Penal Servitude in each case, to run concurrently.
NEW COURT.—Friday and Saturday, December 15th, and 16th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant,
76. JOSEPH BENNETT (35), ROBERT BOWIE (26), WILLIAM MCCARTHY (34), and THOMAS BARTON (27) , Stealing a bale of rugs and various other goods, the property of the Great Northern Railway Company. Other Counts for receiving the same.
MESSRS. GRAIN and KERSHAW Prosecuted.
JOSEPH MORRIS . I have known Bennett for eight or nine years—I first saw him when he came to me on October 13th at Lord Rowton's house, Newington Butts, where I lived—I was a mason, and was convicted of felony 18 months since, and was discharged on September 1st—I was also convicted of burglary at this Court in 1894, and served 10 months—I saw Bennett about four times during October at Rowton House—he knew I had been twice convicted when he came over to me—I said, "I did not expect to see you; how did you know I was here?"—the said, "I met McCarthy in the Dials, and heard you were here"—I said, "How does McCarthy know 1 I have not seen McCarthy"—he said, "Old Darky, or somebody you know, told me"—I said, "I heard you were working at the Cripplegate fire; you are doing all right now, aren't youl"—he said, "I am not there now; I am working for the Great Northern Railway on the goods; getting portmanteaus and things from the terminus"—I understood that it was dishonest—he asked me to go out and have a drink—he said he had two men down there, sending bales away for him, but he did not mention their names—he spoke of a mate, awaiting his trial at the North London Sessions, who had been working with him—I went back to Rowton House, but not with Bennett, and fetched a mate of mine—we walked as far as Ludgate Circus, and there Bennett left me—he gave me an address in Britannia Street, Gray's Inn Road, where I could write to him, and that I could see him at a laundry in Cromer Street, the corner of Tunbridge Streets—I went to the laundry on, I think, October 16th, and saw him with Bowie—Bennett said, "You need not be afraid; this man has been away on the Continent"—he went out, and walked down as far as the Great Northern Railway, Metropolitan Station, King's Cross—Bennett said he had got some stuff there—he showed me some patterns of dress material, or something to that effect; that was in the street—he said '"I have a woman gone to pawn some stuff for me"—we turned back and had a drink at the White Hart, and I left him—I saw him again the following Friday, the 20th, at Baines'—a woman came into the shop with him—he and I walked down to the King's Cross Metropolitan Station, as before—he said he had got a bale of stuff that, he expected up, and he sent a telegram—he did not tell me where the telegram was addressed to, or where he expected the goods from—when we got back to the laundry Bowie came across the road and said, "Do you see those two waiting for you?" meaning McCarthy and Barton, who were together across the road—Bennett said, "There is McCarthy; you don't want to see him, do you?"—I said, "I don't know why I should not see him; I have not seen him for two years"—McCarthy beckoned to me, and I left
Bennett, and went across—McCarthy said, "How are you getting on? you look well after being away; have you cone over to sell anything to Payne? he is buying things now"—that is the name I knew Bennett by—I said, "No; I have nothing to sell him, I know lie is too tightfisted; he won't have anything of me; I have got 6d.; we will go over, and have a drink," but before then McCarthy said, "We are working on the Great Northern; we will come up and get a bit of stuff; we and Ginger "meaning Barton—I understood stuff to mean money—then we had a drink at the Old Boot—I said, "Jack told me he had two working for him at the Great Northern, it is you two working for him, is it?"—they said, "Yes," and while having our drink McCarthy said to Barton, "Go and see if you can tap him, and get a bit off him"—Barton left the public-house then—I asked McCarthy how he was working it, as I should like to get on the railway, but I could not get on on account of a reference—he said, "I will write one out for you; you can always write your own out, and perhaps Jack can get you there; you want to get up there at 6 p.m. on Monday"—my presence there might be, under some circumstances, to rob the company, but I wanted to get honest work there, being a constant job—I said, "How do you get the goods away without them knowing it?"—he said, "I get hold of one that I think is good, and turn it up, take label off, and say, 'Hallo! here is one with no label on,' and then, when no one is looking, I put my own label on; I put it on the truck, and ask if this is the G.C."(Great Central); "then I let Bentne know, and he sends a telegram down to the agent or somebody to get it sent up to the address given on the telegram; on the label is put whatever station they are to send it to, marked 'Till called for,"—Barton then came back, and said, "I can't get nothing out of him, he is hard to tap; you had better go and try"—McCarthy said, "We will both go up and try him"—they both went, leaving me in the public-house—six or seven minutes after I looked out and saw Barton and McCarthy talking to Bennett on the pavement in Cromer Street—they came back, and one of them said, "You can't get nothing out of him; he is hard to tap; he won't give us nothing till he gets a telegram to say it is all right—we left, and I saw Barton again the following Monday, the 23rd, at the corner of Cromer Street and Judd Street—he took me across and treated me to a drink—he said he had come out to see if he could get a bit off Bennett on the goods sent him on Friday or Saturday, and while he was waiting for Bennett he showed me a label that he was to put on another one: "J. Bertram, Great Northern Railway, Manchester. To be called for"—I have seen Bennett write, but am not sure of his writing—I asked Barton who wrote the label; he said, "Bennett wrote the label out"—he said, "I am going to get one tonight if I can, and put this one on it"—I did not see any more of the prisoners till I heard Bennett and Bowie were in custody—I did not try to get employed on the Great Northern Railway.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I came to see you as a friend, and once to borrow 1s. of you—I earn 10d. an hour when at work as a mason, but I had no tools, and was willing, therefore, to be employed by the Great Northern Railway at 4d. an hour—it was not my view to rob the
Company—I gave information to the Company against you the day you were arrested—I said nothing about selling you any stuff.
Cross-examined by Bowie. I saw you on the 23rd, the day before you were arrested—I asked you where Bennett was—I said I was going to offer him something, not that I had something to sell him.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. You suggested writing me a reference.
Cross-examined by Barton. When I saw you on Monday morning you asked me how I was getting on, and asked me to have a drink—you said you had come up to see Bennett to get some money—I did not say anything about his owing McCarthy any money—I think I said I had come up to see Bennett on a little business—I did not say, "I have got a bicycle to sell which I got out of a burglary"—I did not see yen draw any money of Bennett, but you told me, I think, that you had 10s. off him on Saturday night.
ERNEST WILLIAM WEBB . I am a warehouseman, of 27, Highgate Road, to A. and S. Henry and Co., Ltd., of 56 and 57, Aldermanbury—on October 4th I had 14 pieces of dress material (Produced) to be packed up and sent to our house at Bradford—I saw a label similar to this attached to the bale, "A. and S. Henry and Co., Ltd., Bradford"—it was taken by the packer about 5 p.m. to the Great Northern Railway—he took his ordinary railway book and brought it back signed—we received a communication from our Bradford house, which led us to give information and make complaint to the Great Northern Railway of the nonarrival of that package—this is the wrapper (Produced).
Cross-examined by Bennett. The" value was from £25 to £30.
EDWARD ERNEST HECKMAN . I am a checker in the employ of the G.N.R.—on October 4th, at King's Cross Goods Station, I checked this consignment to A S. Henry and Co., Bradford, about 10.10 p.m.—we call it a "truss"—I sent it to the Leeds van—the actual Bradford train had gone.
Cross-examined by Bennett. None of the other prisoners worked in my gang that night——I saw the truss put in the van.
Cross-examined by Barton, The Doncaster train leaves our place about 10.30, but there is another one that leaves much later—the Leeds road van leaves at 12.10—I did not see anyone take the bale to the Doncaster place—I cannot say whether it went to Doncaster—there are plenty of men at work on the bank—the bank is full of goods—there would be about thirtyfive men, and each checker has four men.
ALBERT HENRY COWLAN . I live at Holly Street, Doncaster, and am acting checker of goods to the G.N.R. at Doncaster—on October 6th I loaded a bale at the station labeled" Gordon, Doncaster Station. Till called for"—this is the "un entered book" (Produced) which I keep for goods where there is no waybill—we do not often get a waybill with the London stuff—it comes later on by post, and then I enter it in this book—I sent it to the lockup—it was a canvas bale or truss.
ARTHUR FOURTH . I live at James Street, Doncaster—I am checking clerk to the Midland Railway Company at Doncaster—on October 6th I received this telegram at about 5 p.m.: "Handed in at King's Cross 7 p.m.;
Ward, Stationmaster; collect from G.N.R. Goods Depot, pay charges; one bale labelled 'Wm. Gordon,' and forward first passenger train, this their urgent; advise despatch, Wm. Gordon, 106A, Cromer Street, St. Pancras"—I gave instructions to the porter Eggitt, and the bale was shortly after brought into my office—I had it sent to St. Pancras by the 6.55 Midland—I did not read the label upon it—it was wrapped in canvas—I took the label off and relabelled it as directed.
ERNEST EGGITT . I am a porter at Doncaster, Midland Railway—I got the bale as directed by the last witness—it was labelled "Gordon Doncaster Station: till called for"—I took it to Fourt, and saw it into the 6.55 train—it was marked "16s. 6d. to pay. Secure charges."
CHARLES JOLLY . I am a checker at the Midland, St. Pancras Station—on the night of October 6th I received this waybill, with a truss, addressed "Wm. Gordon, 106A, Cromer Street, St. Pancras"—it was placed in the ordinary place for conveyance to Cromer Street—the charges would be collected on delivery.
WILLIAM GERALD JONES . I am a parcels porter at the Midland Railway, St. Pancras—on October 7th I acted as carman, and delivered this truss with delivery note at 106A, Cromer Street, 16s. 6d. to pay, which was paid—I cannot identify the prisoners—this sheet was signed by the person paying, "R. Bowie."
Cross-examined by Bennett. I do not know whether it was Bowie who signed—it was someone about his height—I had 49 deliveries out.
JAMES JOHN SAGE . I am a baker, of 39, Manchester Street, Kings Cross—I know the laundry, 106A, Cromer Street—it was mine for nearly three years—Bowie lived there with his wife at a rent of £1 a week—he lived there in October.
HARRY WEAVER . I am assistant to George E. Gill, pawnbroker, 15, Hampstead Road—these two dress lengths were pawned with us on October 17th for 5s.—I produce the duplicate; name, Ann Osborne, 17, Drummond Street, Euston Square.
JOSEPH LINCH . I am assistant to E. J. Weaves, pawnbroker, 141, Euston Road—these are the remains of our tickets (Produced)—the writing is mine—I have the duplicate, dated October 24th, 1899, remnant 8s., pawned by Jane Roberts, of 1, Bedborough Street—this is the property.
CHARLES SHEPPARD . I am packer to Outram and Co., Limited, 13, Watling Street—on October 20th I packed 11 pieces of drapery goods in covers, sewn up, and addressed "Mr. E. H. Snell, Grantham"—I marked it "A 63"—this is the cover—2s. is the charge—these are part of the goods (Produced)—it is called plushette—it was fetched away—the invoice is for £11 0s. 5d., wholesale price.
WILLIAM FREEMAN . I am a checker of the Great Northern Railway—on October 20th, at King's Cross, I checked this consignment note about 7 p.m—the carrier is Foster—my hours are from 4 p.m. till 2 a.m.—I sent the bill to be despatched for Grantham—I have a gang under me—bales go to the bank, from which they are loaded into the proper trains.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I do not make a note on the back of my declaration, of the men who work for me on different nights—I have a
regular gang every night—neither of the prisoners worked for me that night—when I received this bale from Foster I saw the man put it on the barrow—I did not see it put on the truck, but this number was brought me back for the Grantham waggon, which no doubt was correct—he represented to me that it was put into the Grantham truck; whether it was I do not know.
EDWIN IMPORT . I live at Gladstone Street, Bradford, and am cashier to the Great Northern Railway—on October 22nd I was on duty at the Goods Department—I received out of truck No. 20871 an unentered truss from King's Cross, labelled "James Bertram, Great Northern Goods, Bradford; to be called for"—this is the label—it was placed aside.
HARRY DICKENSON . I am manager to Messrs. Pickford and Co. at Bradford—on October 21st I received this telegram: "No. 26, reply paid; Pickford, Leeds Road, Bradford; collect Great Northern Goods Depot truck, drapery, labelled 'James Bertram;' pay charges; advise James Bertram, 106A, Cromer Street, King's Cross, London"—I communicated with the Great Northern—I could find no trace of the bale—on October 23rd I received this: "Reply paid; Leeds Road, Bradford, re wire Saturday. Truss not arrived; explain; Bertram, 106A, Cromer Street, W.C."—the matter was thnn taken up by the Great Northern police.
DAVID WARNER (Detective, Great Northern Railway). I was stationed at this time at Leeds—on October 24th I received instructions about a truss—I went to Delves Street (Great Northern Depot) and found the truss at the Goods Station, Bradford—it was in a canvas wrapper—I opened it, and found the property—it had upon it this label, "James Bertram, Great Northern Goods Depot, Bradford. To be called for"—on instructions I brought it up to King's Cross.
GEORGE BURTON . I live at Heckmondwike, and am in the employ of Messrs. Firth and Co., manufacturers—on September 13th I packed 36 rugs for them—this is" one of them (Produced)—the wrapper was similar to this—t saw them addressed to a firm in Brighton.
DANIEL WATTS . I live at Argyll Road, Brighton, and am in the employ of F. S. Soper, draper, of 80, North Street, Brighton—on October 16th I received a bale of rugs similar to this from Firth, Heckmondwike—on instructions I put a fresh label on it, and addressed it to Firth and Sons, Heckmondwike—it was a month late, and I had instructions not to open it—I gave it to the carrier to take to the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway Station.
WILLIAM GUNN . I am carman to Mr. Wells, of Rotherhithe—we do some of the carting for the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway—on October 12th I went from Willow Walk Goods Station, near, London Bridge, to King's Cross—I had a bale for Firth, the last entry in my sheet, which I delivered at the Goods Depot, Bang's Cross Station.
GEORGE WILLIAM BETTY . I am a checker at King's Cross Goods Station—on October 19th I received a bale for Firth, Heckmondwile, at about 6 30—I sent it by a barrowman to the Checkheaton Road van for Yorkshire.
Gross-examined by Bennett. I had a full time going on.
Cross-examined by Barton. I should not know the man who took it away to put it on the truck.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. If it were 9 o'clock, and the truck came in at 9.30, I should send my man to see it put on—I did so, and got a direct number—whether he put it on the truck or not I cannot say.
—W. COLD WELL. I am a checker to the G.N. at Sheffield—on the morning of October 21st I unloaded the Sheffield van from King's Cross, and received a truss addressed by this card, "Gordon, Sheffield Road. Till called for. G.N. Goods Department, Sheffield. By G.N. Railway"—I communicated with somebody, and it was placed in the "Await order for further instructions" place.
JOHN ARTHUR DUCKWORTH . I am chief correspondence clerk to the L. & N.W. Railway at Sheffield—on October 20th I received this telegram: "Reply paid, Cross Street Station, Sheffield, L. & N. W. Railway; collect from G.N. Goods; pay charges; bale labelled 'Wm. Gordon'; forward first passenger train to this address; advise despatch Wm. Gordon, 132, Theobald's Road, London"—I initialled this exhibit, and communicated with the G.N. authorities, and on instructions I replied to Gordon the same day, "No trace of bale"; I sent it at 11.40 a.m.—on the 23rd I received this letter, addressed to "The Manager, L. & N.W. Goods Depot, Goods Station, Sheffield. 132, Theobald's Road, London, Saturday, October 21st, 1899. Sir,—I am in receipt of postcard advising me you failed to collect, as per instructions by wire, 20th inst.," etc.
THOMAS PROCTOR . I keep a tobacco and paper shop at 132, Theobald's Road—on October 20th Bowie called—I did not know him—he gave the name of William Gordon, and asked me if I would take letters or telegrams for him in that name—I agreed to, at 1d. per letter—he said he was expecting a parcel, and would I take that as well?—I agreed to—after he left a telegram came, which I gave him on his calling later; it was addressed "William Gordon"—the next day Bennett called alone—I did not know him—he gave the same name "William Gordon"—he asked if there were any letters or telegrams for Gordon—I told him he was not Gordon—he said, "I am from Gordon; it is all the same"—I had received a postcard addressed to Gordon, which I gave him—he said he was expecting a post-card or letter from the railway company about a parcel, and that satisfied me—he said there would be something to pay; he did not know what it would be—he would make inquiry, and let me know later on and bring the money—on October 24th Bennett called in the morning—I had received another telegram which I gave him—he went outside and came back with the telegram—he said that instead of a parcel coming, more goods were coming than he at first expected, and it was a bale—he said, "There will be something to pay, I don't know how much; I will leave 6s.; if there is anything more to pay, if you will pay it,' I will give you the difference when I come in"—he said it would not be long in arriving—that was about 10 a.m.—the bale arrived about 11 o'clock—I paid 7s. 2d.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I understood Bowie was acting for himself.
Mr. Bailey—on October 24th Bowie came to me about a van; the foreman said he had not one in then, but would have one in half an hour—while we were talking a van came in—I and the horsekeeper put a pony in—Bowie told me, to come down to the second paper shop, No. 103, Theobald's Road—Bowie said it was to take away two little boxes—when I got there there was a crowd of people in the shop—I took the bale to the Police-station—I did not see any of you arrested.
THOMAS GLENCROSS . I am a clerk in the AccountantGeneral's Office, G.P.O.—I produce four original telegrams handed in on October 6th at 4.7 p.m. at King's Cross—one on October 20th, one on October 21st at 12.15, and one on October 23rd.
ELGAR COPPIN . I am superintendent of the London and North-Western Police—Bennett was employed there from July 10th, 1885, till July 14th, 1887—he had to make reports to me from day to day—I produce this book—his proper name is John de Frain—I have no doubt that these Exhibits, 8 and 9, are in his writing—Exhibit 17 is a label with the address, "William Gordon," also in his writing. (Bennett here stated that the telegrams and labels were in his uniting.) WILLIAM SLATER. I am a checker at the Great Northern Railway, King's Cross, Goods Depdt, and have been there many years—I know Barton and McCarthy as having been employed there as half-timers under me for some months—"half-timer" means working from 6.30 till 11 o'clock—they worked occasionally, and were paid every night—I keep a tonnage list in which I enter the loads, with my name at the top and the cauers-off and the three barrow-men—on October 19th the calleroff was E. Carter, and the barrowmen were W. McCarthy, H. Barry, and G. Baker—I make these entries at the time—on October 19th or 20th McCarthy was working on the high level, where Foster's vans come—I send the goods to a certain truck.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I should say two dozen men would be employed on the high level bank—each of them would have the same facility for getting at the goods.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. My evidence has no relation to any of the bales lost.
ALFRED MORGAN . I am a foreman porter at King's Cross Goods Depdt, and have a bank there—on October 4th I should be on duty from 6.30 till 12 o'clock—on October 4th, 19th, and 20th, Barton and McCarthy were overtime men, or half-time men, from 6.30 till 11 o'clock—Barton was on the low level and McCarthy on the high—they would have the opportunity of going from one place to another without being seen, if they desired to do so—a man could easily cut the ticket off in taking the goods to the waggon.
Cross-examined by Bennett. Barton was supposed to be calling off on the 19th and 20th and the 4th—barrow runners frequently call off.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. I have orders to take on outside men without first inquiring into their characters, if I want them, and get their characters after.
Cross-examined by Barton. On October 4th, I sent you on to calloff duty—your duty would be to take the goods out of the van, read the
addresses to the checker, and send them away to the trucks—I should say it would not be impossible for you to take the label off a bale and put another on—the man must bring back the number of the truck to show where the goods are going.
By the COURT. It would be simple for a man to get into a boxwaggon and take the label off and put another one on and bring it out of the waggon and put it where he likes.
By Barton. On the 19th you were employed on the low level, which is not 100 yards from the high—you could leave the low level any time you liked for the purpose of nature if you asked the foreman—you could go from one end of the low level up to the high level and back comfortably in seven minutes.
WILLIAM WILDGOOSE . I am superintendent of the London County Council lodging-house, Barker Street, Drury Lane, and have been so for about seven years—Barton, McCarthy and Bennett lodged with me under the name of Payne—Barton lodged there from 1898 till June 21st, 1899, almost continuously, in cubicle 222—McCarthy occupied cubicle 39 under the name of W. Johnson from April 27th, 1897, till April 24th, 1899—I find Payne lodged there from August 16th till October 5th, 1898, casually—he was in four separate beds during that time, and again from November 9th till November 14th, 1898—they pay 6d. a night.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I am not certain you were there.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. The last date I have you in the County Council lodging-house was April 24th, 1899.
HARRY PARTRIDGE . I was barman at the Old Boot public-house in October last, and am still—Bowie used the house—I knew Bennett as using the house, not by name, and Barton—I believe I know McCarthy—I have seen Bennett and Barton together in the house on several occasions before October, drinking with others—I have seen that man (Morris) with them, and saw him with them a few days before the arrest.
Cross-examined by Bennett. I serve all over the bar—before we serve anyone we generally look to see if they are all right—I swear I have seen Barton there with you and Bowie.
Cross-examined by Bowie. I have seen you together in the Old Boot in the afternoon and evening.
Cross-examined by Barton. I have seen you there a good many times.
HENRY GRANT (Police Inspector). On October 23rd I went to Sheffield and received the bale of rugs, of which this is a sample—it is addressed "Gordon, Sheffield. Till called for"—I brought it up to Euston, and had it loaded on a van, to be taken to 132, Theobald's Road—I followed, and saw it delivered by the carman at Proctor's shop, 132—Bennett was brought there by Purcell, and Bowie by Kynaston—Proctor said to Mr. Parish, my superintendent, pointing to Bennett, "That is Mr. Gordon; he paid me 6s. carriage on this bale"—Mr. Parish then said to Bennett, "Is that your bale?"—he replied, "Yes"—I afterwards went with another officer to 106A, Cromer Street, a laundry, where I found this property in a back room next the laundry on the ground floor—I showed it to Bowie at the Police-office, King's Cross—pointed to Bennett, and said, "He brought them to my place to be
disposed of by my wife; she pawns things for him sometimes"—Bennett made no reply—I then went with other officers to 78, Copenhagen Street, where Bennett had two rooms on the first floor, where he lived with his wife—I found eight of these packages, and some patterns referring to the same kind of stuff—it is ladies' new dress material—I also identified two wrappers.
Cross-examined by Bennett These are pieces of dress lengths cut off.
HENRY SAMUEL KYNASTON (Detective, L. and N.W. Railway). On October 24th I was with some of the Great Northern detectives in Theobald's Road—I saw Bennett and Bowie arrested—Bowie saw Bennett arrested—I went across the road towards Bowie—he then ran away—I went after him—he said, "What's up, gov'nor?"—I said, "I am a police-officer, and shall take you back to the shop where a man is just arrested"—he was then handed over to Inspector Allen and our officer.
Cross-examined by Bennett. This is the first time I have given evidence to this effect.
By the COURT. What I say is true—he ran away 50 or 70 yards.
Cross-examined by Bowie. You were in conversation with Bennett some time before he was arrested—you then parted, he on one side of the road and you the other, and then crossed and had another conversation—you then parted, and I lost sight of you for some little time—the officer then arrested Bennett, and you ran away—you were on the opposite side when he was arrested—I walked behind a cab to arrest you, not a tram car—you ran towards Gray's Inn Road; I ran up and caught you.
Re-examined. I was at the Police-court during the hearing of the case, ready to be called if necessary.
HENRY GRANT (Re-examined). I arrested McCarthy on November 8th, about 5 p.m., in Drury Lane—I took him to the station—the charge was told him in my presence—he made no reply—he said, "I was thinking of coming round to work at your place tonight."
Cross-examined by McCarthy. I did not ask you if you stole those things, nor did Mr. Parish say, "Never mind, he is charged with it."
JOHN ALLEN (Railway Detective). I was in the shop, 132, Theobald's Road, when Bowie was brought there—I Raid to him, "You will have to come, too"—Bennett was being taken—Bowie said, "I don't know what you want me for; I have never seen that man (Bennett) till this morning, when he called at my shop and asked me to cart some cans for him; I was out of work, and glad to earn a shilling"—Bennett said, "He knows nothing about it, you needn't take him"—I took him in a cab to King's Cross with Police-constable Purcell, Bennett and Inspector Grant—on the way to the station Bowie said, "Well, I have seen that man before, he had a truss delivered at my place last Saturday week; it was brought there by a Midland carman, and I signed for it; he left me a sovereign to pay the charges; he fetched it away the same morning, and I went a little way with him. I have known him about two months altogether"—I went with Grant to 106, Cromer Street, and was present at the finding of the property he has identified—I was present when that property was taken back and shown to Bowie——he said, pointing to Bennett, "He brought it this morning to my house
for my wife to pawn; she pawns things for him; I went to Bennett's house in Copenhagen Street."
Cross-examined by Bowie. I was concealed in the shop where you were arrested.
REUBEN PURCELL (Policeman 463 E.) I took Bennett and Bowie into custody on October 24th at the request of Mr. Parish—I took them across to 182, Theobald's Road—Mr. Parish said, "Is this your bale?" Bennett said, "Do your worst; that man Bowie knows nothing about it"—they were taken to the Great Northern Station.
FRANCIS ALLRIGHT (Detective, Y). I arrested Barton and McCarthy on November 8th, McCarthy at the post-office of the Great Northern Railway—I said, "McCarthy, I am going to take you into custody, for being concerned with two other men"—he said, "Yes; I have been given to understand that, Sir"—at 11 that night I arrested Barton in Castle Street, Leicester Square—I said, "John, I must arrest you; I am a police-officer"—he said, "All right, gov'nor"—I said, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with Bennett, Bowie, and McCarthy in stealing goods from the Great Northern Railway"—he said, "I don't know Bennett"—I said, "Perhaps you know him by the name of Payne"—he said, "Yes, I do, Sir"—I took him to Charing Cross Road—he said, "Yes," to the charge.
Cross-examined by Bennett: I understand that Barton was interviewed a fortnight before—Mr. Parish repeated in front of the sergeant, who took the charge, a statement which Barton said was quite true, in respect to receiving 25s. as his share of one of the transactions.
WILLIAM RIDGWAY (Detective Officer). I am chief clerk in the police department, G.N. Railway—I was outside 106A, Cromer Street on October 23rd about 8.50 p.m., watchingunder instructions—I looked through the window—I saw Bennett and Bowie inside, and three women—they were standing at the counter examining samples of cloth and passing one to the other—I was with the other officer, on October 24th, when Bennett and Bowie were arrested—I saw them after they had been taken to Mr. Parish's office—Bennett was chewing something—he took it out of his mouth, and threw it down, and said, "It is too late; you can do as you like with that"—I pieked it up, and put it together as well as I could—I then went to Mr. Neave, pawnbroker—it proved to be a ticket, of which he had the duplicate—on October 24th I received certain instructions from Mr. Parish and Barton was brought into the post-office at King's Cross about 7 p.m.—I took down a statement from him in shorthand (Exhibit 29)—I previously had a conversation with him about it—I told him I was making inquiries in regard to some trusses that had been sent down the line, and from certain information, I wished to know what he had to say regarding it—he then made the statement—I then communicated with the company's Superintendent of Police, and he went into the office before Mr. Parish and repeated the statement—(Statement repeated).
—PARISH (Chief of Great Northern Detective Police). From a statement made to me by Morris, which was reduced into writing, the arrests on October 24th were carried out under my instructions—I found the statement correct—I was present at the arrests in Theobald's Road—I heard
the officers' evidence; it is correct—I sent for McCarthy and Barton, who were at work that evening—they came to my office—they were first seen by Ridgway—I afterwards saw them separately—having taken their statements, I told them they could go back to their work—they went back, and were paid for their night's work by my instructions—nothing was said to prevent their returning to work the next day; in fact, I told them to continue to work, as I might want them as witnesses—I wanted to see them again the night after next, and found they had gone—I gave them into custody on November 8th, after consulting with the company's solicitors and Counsel.
Cross-examined by Bennett I believe it is very usual for men to remain away and come again to work—I thought it rather remarkable for both to keep away, seeing they were pretty nearly continuously at work from September 9th, when McCarthy started work—I suggest that there was a reason which they can better answer than you perhaps.
Cross-examined by McCarthy. I do not know what Detective Mountjoy did—I gave him no instructions—I did not send for him—I sent two men from my office to request you to come, as I should any other servant.
By the COURT. There was no attempt to search him—he was told to return to work, and that he would be paid for the time he was engaged there—a lot of what he has said is very wrong.
Cross-examined by Barton. I did not find a label on you—I had no idea when you made the statement to me that a bale was stolen at that time, the subject of the charge here—you said to me, "I had a label given me three or four weeks ago"—I had no knowledge of a charge at that time, and that is why I let you go.
JESSIE RINTOUL . I am the wife of Thomas Rintoul, of 78, Copenhagen Street—Payne (Bennett) had two rooms on the first floor from June 2nd this year till his arrest—he paid 7s. 6d. a week—he had one little girl and his wife—I did not see any of the other prisoners there—I saw the police when they came to my place, and I showed them one of Bennett's rooms—I did not see the pieces of dress found—he was supposed to be a traveller.
Bennett, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence on Oath, said that the Company had placed the case in the hands of detectives, and tried to induce McCarthy and Barton to make statements to implicate themselves and their fellow prisoners. Failing to gain the evidence they required, they let then go, and a fortnight after, during which time they obtained more serviceable material to work on, in the person of the convicted thief, Joseph Morris, they again arrested McCarthy and Barton, and brought against them Joseph Morris as chief witness, and made him (Bennett) responsible for stealing almost everything they found at his house. He submitted that for a wealthy railway company, with every resource at their command to obtain respectable evidence, it was an unfair way to build up a case against them, and that there was no evidence to show that he conspired with the other prisoners.
Bowie, in his defence, on oath, said that he believed Bennett to be a tallyman, and he agreed to receive the parcels in, as he thought, the legitimate way of business.
McCarthy, in his defence, on oath, disclaimed any connection with the conspiracy.
Barton, in his defence, on oath, said that he met McCarthy on October 20th, when he offered to put him on to a job; that they had a drink together at the Old Boot public-house, and that was the only time he was there with him.
GUILTY . BENNETT then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction at this Court on December 14th, 1896, and two previous convictions were proved against him.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. BOWIE, McCARTHY, and BARTON — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Monday, December 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th and 18th, 1899.
HELEN ELIZA GENTLE . I am single, and live with my mother and stepfather at 210, Clyde Road, Tottenham—my mother's name is Norris—we have been living at Clyde Road about seven years, as near as I can say—we were living there when I first made the acquaintance of the prisoner, which was about three or four years ago—the deceased was born on April 24th, 1896, and I took charge of him when he was three weeks old—I had advertised that I was willing to take a nursechild, and in answer the prisoner came to Clyde Road and saw my mother and I—she asked what my proficiency and experience was, and I told her I had been a nurse for a clergyman's family, and that I was willing to take the child—I was to be paid £1 17s. per month, and I was paid the first month in advance—it was arranged, a few days after the first interview, that I was to go and fetch the child from Mrs. Ballard's, of 17, Highgate Hill, Islington—I took the child back to Clyde Road, and prisoner came with me—from that time up to October 22nd, with a few exceptions, when the child was in the hospital for an operation for circumcision, it remained with me—the child had three operations; two at home, and one at the hospital—while the deceased was in our care the prisoner came and saw him once a fortnight at first, but about 18 months ago she began to come once a week—it was about then that she went to live with her sister, Mrs. Cadisch, in the Bethune Road—she seemed very fond of the boy, and the boy of her—I became very fond of him, and he of me—we were all very fond of him, and he of us—he never seemed quite so well since he has been circumcised, and I told his mother so—he seemed weaker—the £1 17s. per month was always paid, and if the prisoner came on a Wednesday and the money was due on the Saturday, she would not wait till then, but would
pay me on the Wednesday—the boy was about the same in October; he did not get weaker—the prisoner generally came on Wednesdays—I remember coming on Wednesday, October 4th, and taking the deceased out—I remember her coming on the 11th and taking him out, and my meeting them in the Seven Sisters Road, and we went on to Tottenham Green—we got there about 3.30, and stayed there till about 5—the prisoner and I sat about, and the child was playing—we were talking about the boy—we always had something fresh to ask about him—at 5 o'clock we thought it was time to go home to tea—we were very upset that day because the boy was so sick—we were sitting on a seat, and the prisoner said, "I think Manfred looks rather heavy about the eyes"—I said, "Yes, he does," and she said, "Don't you think we had better be getting home?" and so we went, and the little boy came over very pale—I thought he was tired, and his mother carried him home, and when we got home he was very sick—his mother was there then; she stayed till between 6 and 7—a doctor was not sent for while she was there—when she left the boy still seemed to be very sick, and I sent for a little brandy—after she had gone I went for a doctor, and I met the prisoner—she had said she was coming back to see the boy; she was bo sleep at the house—I said to her that I was going for a doctor, and she saw him when he came—he prescribed for the boy, and he got better—I was with the prisoner the whole of the time after she and the boy left the Seven Sisters Road—she did not speak to anyone else—from the time that she took the boy out till I met her in the Seven Sisters Road was between a quarter and half-an-hour—the arrangement to meet was made at home—the next day the boy seemed worse; he came out in a rash, and I sent for the doctor again—the prisoner had promised to come on the Friday, the 13th, but she did not come—her next ordinary visiting day would be the 18th, but on the 18th my mother got a letter—this is it, and it is in the prisoner's writing (Produced)—before we received it we had had no intimation that the prisoner intended to remove the child from our care—it came as a great surprise to me—This stated that the prisoner had seen the child's father, and that the child would be sent for to be removed from the care of Mrs. Norris, as his father wished him to be brought up in his cousin's family, and to start learning French; that she was very sorry to have to remove him, but did not like to raise objections, as she thought she would be in the way of his future prospects.)—on Wednesday, the 18th, the prisoner came—both I and my mother saw her, and October 27th was fixed for the child's departure—she did not say where she was going to take the child to—she did not name any country—it was first arranged that I should take the child to London Bridge, and she said that they would put up for an hour or two at an hotel until the boat started—I did not know where the boat started from, I was to leave them at London Bridge—the prisoner never made any statement as to the nationality of the child, or say anything about the father—she told me to take a change of clothing for the child, and told me what to take—she told me to put into a parcel a flannel shirt, a chemise, a petticoat, a white serge dress, and two overalls, and bring them with the child—I next saw the prisoner on Wednesday, the 25th, my mother being again present
and an alteration was made in the plans—my mother suggested that I had better leave Manfred at the Birdcage public-house on Stamford Hill, where the 'buses start from, because the farther I went with him the more he would be opposed to parting with me—the Birdcage is not very far from Clyde Road or from Bethune Road—I was to be at the Birdcage at 12.45—on the Friday I dressed the child—he had on a little red sailor hat; it had black ribbon round it, with "H.M.S. Raven" on it in gold letters, a blue serge frock trimmed with white braid, and a little band of white braid to form a cuff; a turndown collar trimmed with white braid,' a little waistband of same material, with white braid on it—he had a blue cloth coat on, with brass buttons, with an anchor on each; it had fawncoloured cuffs, with two capes of fawn colour—he also had on two petticoats, one of white flannelette and one of a grey striped flannel, a pair of white flannelette drawers with lace at the bottom, a white cotton shirt, with lace round the neck and sleeves, a pair of black socks which had been a good deal darned, brown shoes with little brown straps fawn gaiters, and a white silk tie round his neck—this blue cloth coat (Produced) he had last winter, and this blue serge frock (Produced) he had in the summer—the coat had a greasemark on one of the sleeves—this. (Produced) is the dress he had on; I see now that the white braid is taken off, and the collar and the band, also the braid which made the cuffs; I can see where the braid has been; there is a piece of it here now, and there is the cotton where I should think the collar has been taken off—I am sure that this is the little child's dress—this (Produced) is the little boy's coat; the cuffs have been taken off, and the capes, the buttons, and the turndown collar—I have got one of the capes in my bag, which matches; it was taken off some time ago by the prisoner—the greasefspot is here now—I have no doubt that this is the coat which was worn by the child when I took him out on October 27 th—when I took him out I took the change of clothing which the prisoner had spoken to me about, in a brown paper parcel—I also took a little pair of toy scales (Produced) in a separate brown paper parcel—the boy was accustomed to weighing things—he had had some sugar and currants on the morning of the day he went away—this (Produced) is a photograph of the boy; that is how he looked on the 26th, when that was taken—we left on the 27th, and went by tram to the Birdcage, where we got out and met the prisoner—we got there first, and waited for her a few minutes—there was a 'bus standing by the Birdcage—I think the prisoner got in, and I got in with the boy, but I would not be sure who got in first—I put the two parcels in the 'bus—I got out and waited till it drove off—both the boy and I were a good deal upset at parting; he screamed when I left him—that was the last time I saw him alive—I had asked the prisoner if she would give me a letter of reference; I said I had one from a doctor and from a clergyman, and she said she would give me one, and on Monday,. October 30th, this letter arrived, addressed to my mother, from her—(This stated that she was very sorry to have had to take the boy from Mrs. Gentle's, that he had been thoroughly taken care of, and that she would be very pleased to answer any inquiry.)—letters had come from time to time to Clyde Road, addressed to Mrs. Mason; they had three stamps on them with
a kind of a three on them; I should say they were foreign ones—the prisoner had asked me that if a letter came for Mrs. Mason, would we kindly forward it to 29, Bethune Road, addressed to Miss Masset—there was a second letter in the envelope which we received from her on October 30th—(This stated that the prisoner had just returned from her journey, that the boy cried until she got to London Bridge, that she was very ill on the boat, that she enclosed the letter promised, and that the boy sent his love.)—I do not know what time those letters arrived, I was not at home, but I should say between 9 and 10 on the Monday morning—by then I had heard of something in the newspapers, and on the Monday morning I went to the Hackney Mortuary, between 9 and 10—I read something in the Daily Mail, and I thought it seemed to tally, and before I did anything further, I went to our family doctor for advice, after which I went to the mortuary—that was before I went to the police—I was shown the body of a child which I identified as Manfred's—I did not identify him by the face—there were signs of injury to the face and head—it was dreadfully disfigured—it was like this photograph (Produced)—I think Sergeant Birch came to the mortuary while I was there—I made a statement to him, and then I made out a list of the clothes contained in the brown paper parcel—the sergeant took them down in writing—at that time I spoke from memory—I had not been shown any of the clothes—I was afterwards shown the serge dress, the blue coat which I identified, and the little toy scales—there was some sugar in them which the child had been playing with in the morning—I was also shown a piece of brown paper which I had received from a Mr. Shaw, who is a draper at Tottenham; it had "E. Shaw, draper, Tottenham," on it (Produced)—the piece which I received from Mr. Shaw was too large for what I wanted it, and I cut a piece off, and. in doing so I cut part of the name off—in the piece which I cut off I wrapped up the extra clothes for Manfred; the piece which I kept and the piece in which I had wrapped up the clothes in were afterwards fitted together in my presence—these (Produced) are the scales, and the little pans in which Manfred weighed the sugar on. the 27th—I have no doubt that the body which I saw in the mortuary on the 30th was the body of Manfred Masset.
Cross-examined. I saw the account in the paper of my having identified the child, but it said a middleaged person—I will not be sure whether it said that the child was the child of a Frenchwoman—I read it in the Evening News—(This stated that the poor little victim of the Dalston murder had been identified by the child's nurse, that it was the child of a Frenchwoman who took it away from her, that the police had an important clue, and that the nurse had frequently seen the mother, and that it was believed to be an illegitimate child)—during the last 18 months the visits of the mother had been weekly, sometimes oftener; the visits were generally on Wednesdays—Tottenham Green is about 10 minutes from our house—we generally went to the Down Hills—the prisoner might go with the child to Tottenham Green, but not often—by the little boy's conversation with his mother I think they had been there on October 4th—I did not go with them—I did on the 11th—the prisoner went first, and I went afterwards—we arranged to meet at the Seven
Sisters Road—we stayed from about 3 o'clock to 4.30 or 5—there were no other people there—it was very quiet—the child did not play with any other children—we were sitting down talking, and the child was playing just in front of us—I can swear that he did not play with any other children on that day—that was the day the boy was not well—the doctor came in the evening—I do not remember him saying it was indigestion or a bilious attack—the prisoner came on the 18th—she did not take the child out; the 11th was the last day she took him out—he cried very much on the 18th; his mother noticed it—I think she stayed till about 6—after I put the child in the omnibus at the Birdcage I got out at once—I could not stay, I was so upset—I never had any difficulty in getting my money for the child—I was paid in full up to the time of the child being taken from my care—the prisoner was always very fond of the child—she was very worried when he underwent the operations—I did not pay for the operations—I do not know if anybody paid for tht m at the London Hospital—the child was hasty, but only the same as other children—he was always a good boy to manage; I could always manage him—I know I spoilt him a bit—I cannot remember the prisoner saying that she thought I spoilt him; she might have said, "You give way to him too much," or something like that—she said once or twice that the child exhibited a little temper when out with her.
LEONI CADISCH . The prisoner is my sister—I live with my husband, Richard Cadisch, at 29, Bethune Road, Stoke Newington—my father was a Frenchman, and my mother was English—my sister was 36 last June; she is unmarried—for some years she has followed the occupation of a daily governess; she was living at home with our mother, just before the birth of Manfred, on April 24th, 1896—this is the certificate (Produced) of his birth—I knew that after its birth it was placed with Mrs. Norris and her daughters, and I guaranteed to them the payment monthly of £1 17s.; I was never called upon to pay any part of that—after the birth of her child the prisoner did not live at home with her mother any longer—we had a stepfather living then; he died on September 27th, since when I and my sister and the other members of our family have been in mourning for him—since August, 1898, up to the date of her arrest the prisoner was living with my husband and myself at 29, Bethune Road—she went to her teaching, among other places, to a Mrs. Haas and to a Mrs. Sonenthal, from my house—she went by tram to Dalston, and then by train, but I cannot say what station she went to on the North London Railway—she first mentioned to me that she was going to change the custody of the child from Mrs. Norris at the beginning of this year—she simply said it would be better for the child's education; that is the only reason she gave—nothing was done then—she next mentioned it on October 18th, when she said that she was going to take the child to a cousin of its father in France, to be brought up—I did not know who the father was; she never told me—on the 24th or 25th she told me she was going to Newhaven with the child on the Friday, and would be back on the Sunday or Monday—she said she was going by the 2.30 p.m. train, because she had to be in Newhaven at 5 p.m. to meet the boat, I suppose—I do not remember her saying anything about the boat—I last saw her on Friday, the 27th, at
12.30; she was not dressed to go out—her hat and jacket, which I saw at the Police-court, are the clothes she was in the habit of wearing—she did not say anything about her journey to me on the Friday—after 12.30 on the Friday I next saw her at 9 o'clock on Sunday night; she was wearing the same hat and jacket as she was wearing at the Police-court—I did not speak to her that night; she was tired and went to bed; next morning I asked if the child had been troublesome, because I knew it was fond of its nurse; she replied, "Only at London Bridge"—I asked her if she had had a good crossing, and she said the sea was better going than coming, or coming than going, I cannot remember which—I have never seen this shawl (Produced) in her possession—I have never seen her with a black shawl of any kind—we have got in our back garden a rockery made of clinker bricks, and in the front garden there is an edging of the same kind ofbricks—these bricks (Produced) are similar to those in the front garden—this one also (Produced) is like ours—my sister never mentioned to me that she ever intended giving the child into the charge of two women at Chelsea—Mondays were the days she taught at West Hampstead—she left on Monday, October 30th, at 1.30—she usually returned about 8—we used to dine about 7.45—she did not come home that night—she had not said she would not be home—we expected her—my sister was in no monetary difficulties, as far at I know.
Cross-examined. Bricks like these are in most of the back gardens in our neighbourhood—there is no regularity in the placing of the bricks round the edging—I said that you could not see where any brick had been taken from, except those taken by the police—the whole of our family knew of the existence of this child—my sister always seemed to have enough money for her wants—I and my husband housed her free of charge—she was very fond of her child—she spoke in terms of affection of him to me—when she came back on the Sunday night she was in her usual state of mind, and quite calm—next morning she had breakfast and went to her work as usual—nobody was unpleasant to her because of the boy's existence; we had all forgiven her—she went several times to her brother-in-law's, at Croydon—it was not unusual for ner to go and stay there.
Re-examined. She went there last in August, I think—she had not said anything about going to Mr. Simes.
MAUD CLIFFORD . I am an assistant to Mr. MacIlroy, a draper, of 161, High Street, Stoke Newington—I sold this shawl (Produced) on October 24—this is the bill for it (Produced)—I remember selling it—on Nov.4th I picked out the prisoner as the person to whom I had sold the shawl—I am nearly certain that she is the person—when I sold it she asked for a black shawl, and I showed her one at 1s. 6 ¾ d., a size smaller than this one, but otherwise the same—she said she wanted a little larger one, so I showed her this one for 1s. 11 1/2 d., and she had it—I was marking the shawls off—we had only had them for a week—there were only three like this in the parcel—this one (Produced) is one of the other two—I think this one is the one I sold on the 24th.
Cross-examined. I am prepared to swear that I sold that shawl to the prisoner on October 24th—I said before the Coroner, "I won't swear
positively she is the woman," and when before the Magistrate I said, "At the inquest I said I won't swear positively she is the woman; I won't swear that now"—I do not wish to differ from those two statements—I should not like to swear, but I think she is the woman—ours is a busy shop; there are about twenty assistants—I cannot remember what I sold before I sold the shawl, or what I sold immediately after; I cannot remember anything I sold on that day—I sold a good many things that week—I know this is the shawl I sold, by the pattern—this shawl is the same pattern, and wool, and size; I do not see any difference in them—I have been six years in the trade.
Re-examined. These are all new shawls—a detective brought the shawl in and asked me if we sold shawls like that, and I brought out a box and showed him some, and we saw they were the same—that was on a Friday—I knew nothing about the Dalston murder then—I gave my evidence before the Magistrate, on November 11th—the detective brought the shawl in on the Friday week before that, the 3rd—I told the detective I remembered selling the shawl—next day I was taken to the Dalston Police-court, where I picked out the prisoner as the person to whom I had sold the shawl.
ERNEST HOPLIN MOONEY . I am manager to Mr. MacIlroy, draper, of 161, High Street, Stoke Newington—on October 16th or 17th I purchased a quarter of a dozen woollen shawls, trade No. 310, from Rylands & Son, Wood Street, City—anyone going to Rylands could get the same shawls—I have compared this one, which was sold on October 24th, with the two remaining in our possession—the three are all the same—I have had 12 or 13 years' experience in the trade.
Cross-examined. I should call this shawl rather a striking pattern, not an ordinary pattern—I think I said, when before the Magistrate, "I suppose it would be an ordinary shawl," not "an ordinary pattern"—I said that they could be bought by anyone.
Re-examined. These were not made specially for us—I have never seen this pattern before.
THOMAS BONNER . I am an omnibus conductor employed by the London General Omnibus Company—my 'bus starts from the Birdcage, Stamford Hill, for London Bridge—we started at 12.48 p.m on October 27th; we got to 1 ondon Bridge at 1.35—I remember a woman and a child travelling with me from the Birdcage to London Bridge—this is a photograph of the child—it had a red hat on—I do oot recognise the prisoner at all—the child was crying inside the omnibus—they had a brown paper parcel—that is all I remember.
GEORGINA WORLEY . I am a widow, and relieving waitingroom attendant at the London Bridge Station on the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway—my waitingroom is on the south side near the parcels' office—it is No. 2, firstclass waitingroom—I was on duty there from 7.30 a.m, till 2.30p.m. on Friday, October 27th—I saw a little boy in the waitingroom—I cannot positively say that this is a photograph of him—he had a little blue serge dress and a little blue serge coat—I do not remember what kind of a cap he had on—the coat had one or two bright brass buttons, and a little collar round the neck, of either red or brown—this is the frock (Produced)—this is the coat, only there was something round
the neck, a lady was with the boy; she was dressed in black—a black round hat—I afterwards went to Dalston Police-station and saw a number of women, but I did not identify anybody; I had not seen the woman's features sufficiently; she came into the waitingroom and hurried to the far side and put the boy on the settee and sat down on it herself; she never looked up whilst she sat there—this is like the hat she was wearing (Produced)—it was about 1.45 when they came in, and I left at 2.30 to book my money in—I was relieved at 2.30 by Mrs. Swaker—while I was on duty I wore a white cap—I went and paid in the money which I had taken—when I left the lady and the boy were in the waitingroom—I had spoken to the lady—I said, "You look very tired"—she said, "No; I am waiting for someone to come"—I could not see her face because she had her head down—she put the parcel down on the floor—it was concealed by her dress—I never saw her look up while she was in the room—I returned about 2.40—they were not there then.
Gross-examined. I cannot say if the boy had a red hat on—I did not speak to the lady till just before I was ready to go out—the child kept running up and down the settee—it appeared quite happy—I asked the lady if she was going by train, and she said she was waiting for someone.
KATE SWAKER .—I am married, and waitingroom attendant at the same waitingroom as Mrs. Worley—I was there to oblige her, and relieved her at 2.30 on October 27th—I did not notice a lady and a little boy there.
Thursday, December 14th.
ELLEN REES . I am a widow, living at 8, Ruel Road, Tottenham, and am the attendant at the first-class ladies' waitingroom, main line section at London Bridge Station—it is near the refreshment room—I was in attendance at the waitingroom on October 27th—I went on duty at 2.30 and remained there till 12.10 midnight—I saw the prisoner there about 2.40—I observed the little boy first; he had his back to her—then I looked at the prisoner to see what she was doing to the little boy—she was sitting on the couch—this is a photograph of the little boy (Produced), but he had a coat and a red hat on—if anybody is talking to me in the lavatory, I have a habit of always looking at the door to see if there is anybody there who ought not to be, and I saw the little boy going backwards, and I looked at the prisoner—I saw that the child did not want to go to the lady who was with him—I did not speak to him then; I spoke to him about 15 minutes afterwards, during which time the prisoner remained seated upon the couch—I was putting away my umbrella and bonnet in a cupboard where we hang them, and I saw the little fellow near the prisoner's knee, and he looked up, and I said, "What are you grizzling about?"—he came towards me, and I said, "There is nothing here for little boys"—he looked at me again, and I looked at the prisoner and said, "What is he fretting about?" and she said, "His nurse"—then she said, "Perhaps he is hungry; I will get him a cake"—I said, "He is a fine little fellow; how old is he?" and she said, "Four next April; have you a refreshmentbar here?" I said, "Yes, on the left as you go out of the door"—she got up and turned round and picked something up with her right hand, but I do not know what it was, and took the little boy by the right
hand by her left and went out at the door; as she was going out she turned round and looked at me—I thought she was looking to see which way for the bar—I should think she left about 5 or 10 minutes past 3, the two minutes to three bell rang as I came out of the lavatory, and before I spoke to the little boy—I could not see in what direction she went because the door was shut—I next saw her coming up the room about six minutes to seven, but I did not notice that it was the prisoner until I went to draw some, water for her—she asked for a wash; she had her hat on—the lavatory is attached to the waitingroom, and has three basins in it—she washed in the middle one opposite the lookingglass—she was drawing up her sleeves, and I turned the water on for her—I looked at her in the glass, and said to myself, "Where have I seen you?"—and then I thought, "Oh, you are the lady I saw this afternoon with the little boy"——I was alongside her, and the glass was in front, and I saw her reflection—she washed her hands, and I went to the cupboard to get the towels; we lock them away—I gave her a towel—I did not see her do anything to her hair—I was making my tea in the waitingroom—after I had made my tea, I remembered I had not got any sugar, and I went in to the cupboard to get some, and the prisoner was brushing her jacket down and said to me: "Have you got a clothes brush?" I said "Yes; shall I brush you down?"—she said "No"—I said "You will have to hurry up, because it is quarter past 7 now"—when I was drawing the water, she said, "When is the next train for Brighton?" and I said "twenty past seven"—I gave her the clothesbrush—I did not see whether she used it—I went back to my tea——I saw her go out of the waiting-room door—that was about 7.18 or 7.20—the last time I looked at the clock it was 7.15, and the train goes at 7.22; but we always call it 7.20, as it has gone for so many years at 7.20—the prisoner had a brown paper parcel with her gloves on it at the end of the washing slab; it was not a tidylooking parcel—the little boy was not with her then—on November 24th I went to a courtyard attached to the Dalston Junction, where I saw a cluster of women, and amongst them I saw the woman whom I had seen in my waiting-room on October 27th—I have no doubt that the prisoner is the woman.
Cross-examined. I was not called before the Coroner—the incident at the Police-station was about a month after I saw the prisoner in the waiting-room—I had read of this case in the meantime—it interested me on account of London Bridge being mentioned—I do not think I read a description of the supposed murderess—I have read nothing that has been going on about it—I saw a supposed likeness of the child—I did not read a description of the child: one was not furnished to me—I do not think I said before the Magistrate, "I wondered if this was the child, from the description I saw"—I said, "I wondered if it was the boy with the red hat"—I saw the prisoner without her hat—that was long before I went to the Police-station—I said to the Magistrate, "I was putting the kettle on when the prisoner came back," and that I said nothing to her about having seen her earlier in the day—I did not ask her where her boy was—I was convinced when I saw her washing in the lavatory that she was the woman I had seen earlier in the day with the little boy—the gas was alight at 7 o'clock—sometimes we use 12 towels a day; it all depends on who the customer is—they
pay extra for washing, and that includes one towel—in a quiet season sometimes we do not have a wash in the day—in the Brighton season sometimes 200 or 300 people, on an average, use the lavatory in the day—I cannot say how many use the waiting-room—I have taken £4 or £5 odd in the day in pennies—that was the Sunday before Jubilee, a great deal more than usual—there may be more people on Sundays—I do not know how many trains go—I have been in the waiting-room since July 24th, 1877—there are fewer trains on Sundays—I took an interest in the case, but I did not want to have anything to do with it—I did not communicate with the police; they went to the Station Superintendent, who sent for me—there was a gentleman from the police with him when he sent for me—he asked me if I had seen a lady with the little boy on such a day—I think he mentioned the day, but I am not sure—I did not deny it—he did not describe the little boy to me, or the woman—he asked me if I should know her, and I said I should know her if I saw her—when I got to the station I had no hesitation about identifying her—I saw her on the steps of the station, and I said, in my own mind, "There you are"—it is not true to say that I stopped two or three times before reaching the prisoner, and looked up and down all the persons—some door shut, and I stood on the steps, ana I understood that I had to identify the woman I saw in the waiting-room; I put my glasses on, and I looked at the cluster of women; I saw the woman I wanted, and I said, "There you are" to myself—I walked down, and a voice said to me, "Look steadfastly at them, and touch the one you want"; when I came to the prisoner I stood a minute and looked at her; the voice said again, "That will not do, you must touch her," and I touched her—I did not like doing it, and the voice said again, "Walk this way," and I walked on—I do not know if the inspector stood just behind me—it was a yard, and paved with gravel and asphalt—I did not hear anything but the man's voice—I do not know if it was Inspector Forth; that is the man (Pointing to Inspector Forth)—I had my glasses on when I identified her—I was about 2ft. from her—I am not shortsighted; if I want to see I put my glasses on—I do not generally use them in, the waiting-room—I had not them on when the woman and the child were in the room—betwen October 27th and November 24th I had seen thousands of people in the waiting-room—there was no peculiarity about the prisoner; she was dressed in black, which is a very prevailing colour, especially for travelling—a great many children are continually travelling, and coming into the waiting-room—I cannot give you a personal description of anybody who was in the waiting-room other than this woman on October 27th, on the day before or after—I could recognise hundreds of ladies who go out and in.
Re-examined. I read the account of the murder in the newspapers on the Sunday—I did not make any communication about the case to anyone on the Sunday, because I did not think it concerned us in any way—there was nothing about London Bridge in it—I went back to my ordinary work on Monday, October 30th, and in that week I had a conversation about it with Marion Fitzgerald, who is bookkeeper at Bertram and Roberts' refreshmentroom at London Bridge—I was in very great fear that anyone should find out that I knew anything about the case—I did not want to give evidence in the case—I made a statement
which was taken down by the police—there is no ground for the suggestion that I was helped in any way by the police in identifying the prisoner—I had, and have, no doubt about her identity—I take in the People every Sunday—this (Produced) is a copy of the People of November 5th, in which I saw the likeness of the prisoner and the little boy.
CLARA HAAS . I am the wife of Maximilian Haas, and live at 72, Green-croft Gardens, West Hampstead, which is about seven' minutes walk from the Loudoun Road Railway Station on the North London line—the prisoner has acted as daily governess in my family since 1895, with the exception of about five months in 1896, when she did not attend—at first she came four times a week, the last two years twice a week—she always used the Loudoun Road Station—she always came on Mondays and Thursdays, in the afternoon—she came on Monday, October 30th, at 5.15, and left at the usual time, 12 or 13 minutes to 7.
Cross-examined. On October 30th she was in her usual spirits and quite cheerful—she gave every satisfaction in her capacity as governess—I had not thought of parting with her then.
MART TEAHAN . I am single, living at 46, Walpole Street, Isleworth, and am a daily governess—on October 27th I travelled with a friend, Miss Briggs, from Richmond, in Surrey, to Dalston Junction—our train was timed to leave at 5.19, and reach Dalston Junction at 6.5 p.m.—we arrived rather late—we got out at Dalston at No. 3 platform, and we went at once to the ladies' waiting-room on that platform—I left my friend in the waiting-room, and went to the floor leading to the passage which leads to the water closets—I went into the one which is nearer to the passage door, and as I was in the act of closing the door I saw a dark object on the floor, lying at right angles to the door when it was closed—I saw a child's face, and I immediately opened the door, and went out—I had not quite closed the door—I went into the waiting-room, and rejoined Miss Briggs—I spoke to her, and we left the waiting-room together, and she in my hearing spoke to a porter who was on the station—she and I left the station, and went to a lecture to which we were going in Tottenham Road—the school-room, where we were going to, is about five minutes' walk from Dalston Station—we went on foot, and were seated there comfortably, when we noticed it was 6.30 by the school clock—on Sunday, October 29th, I saw something in Reynolds Sunday paper, and in the evening we communicated with the police.
MARGARET ELLEN BRIGGS . I am single, and live at Twickenham—I am a friend of the last witness, and on the evening of October 27th travelled with her from Richmond to Dalston Junction, to attend a lecture in the schoolroom, which is close to the station—the 5.19 train was rather late in arriving, but on arriving we went into the waiting-room, and Miss Teahan left me and went into the passage which leads out of the waiting-room—she was away a short time, and then returned and spoke to me, and we both went out on to the platform—I spoke to a porter named Standing, and Miss Teahan and I left the station and went to the school—when we were comfortably seated we noticed by the clock it was 6.30—the lecture was to begin at 7—the room is about five minutes from the station.
THOMAS HALL . I am a guard on the North London Railway, and live at 10, Shaldon Street, Bromley-by-Bow—I was in charge of the 5.19 train from Richmond to Dalston Junction on October 27th—it was due at Dalston at 6.5; it did not arrive till 6.19—I booked it at that time in the course of duty.
JOSEPH JOHN STANDING . I am a porter in the employ of the North London Railway at Dalston Junction—on the evening of October 27th I was on duty at No. 3 Platform, when Miss Briggs and Miss Teahan spoke to me—I was wheeling a barrow, and I went straight over to the inspector, Mr. Bundy—I spoke to the foreman porter, Cotteral, first—I spoke to the inspector at 6.38—he told me to go and see what it was—I went into the ladies' waiting-room and to the back w.-c. first, and then to the one nearest the entrance; I pushed the door, and found there was something behind it—I saw a shawl behind the door, then I saw the body of a child—I came out directly, and went over to the inspector and informed him—he came out, and I lit a lamp and went across the metals—I did not touch the body till after Mr. Bundy got over, when I left it in his hands—I stayed till the police came—the body was not disturbed in any way till then, that I know of; if anybody had touched it I should have seen them—there was a very dull light before I brought in the lamp; there was only the gaslight on the partition between the two closets; we could not see without the lamp—I saw a clinker brick on the floor; there are no bricks like that about the station, that I know of; I have been there about six months—I left the brick on the floor, and it was taken possession of by the police.
Cross-examined. I looked at my watch when I fetched the inspector and it was then 6.40—my watch was exactly right by the station time.
DAVID BUNDY . I am a station inspector at Dalston Junction—I have been there 111/2 years—I was called to the ladies' waiting-room on No. 3 Platform on October 27th by Standing—he came to me first at 6.40, and shortly afterwards I went to the waiting-room—behind the door of the first lavatory I found the body of a child clothed simply in a black shawl, which was round the body, the head, throat, and feet being exposed—I put my hand under the shawl on the chest and I found the body was slightly warm, although the child was dead—I sent for the police and for a doctor—the face of the child was smeared with blood, and there were two or three wounds on the face, one above each eye—this photo shows the state of the face as I saw it (Produced)—I also saw on the floor a clinker brick—I did not see any blood on the floor—I did not examine the floor—I touched nothing after finding that the child was dead—I did not touch the feet or hands of the child—the ladies' waiting-room on No. 3 Platform has never had an attendant while I have been at the station, only two charwomen, first thing in the morning and last thing at night, to clear it up—they are not there between 4 and 7—there is a bolt on the middle of the door of the lobby where the closets are, and anybody coming into the lobby can prevent anybody from coming into either closet from the general portion of the waiting-room—there is no entrance except from the waiting-room—the closets themselves are also provided with a small catch in the locks—the quick trains from Loudoun Road arrive at No. 3 Platform, and
the slow trains to Loudoun Road leave the same one—all trains from Finchley Road arrive at No. 3 Platform, except the 8.5 a.m. and the 11.45 p.m., except on Sundays—the train due to leave Loudoun Road at 6.55 and arrive at Dalston Junction at 7.14 runs in at No. 2 Platform—that is a slow train.
Cross-examined. If the trains were running late I should say that probably a little more than 100 people would use the lavatory on No. 3 Platform—I should say that there would be over 200 trains arrive at No 3 Platform in a day—there are four platforms at Dalston Junction; you can go from one to the other without giving up your ticket—the partition between the two closets is made of stained matchboarding—there is an opening common to each closet over the door of about a foot, and one gas light which lights them both—I should say that any noise in one compartment could be easily heard in the next—it would be easy for anyone who wanted to make a noise and not be heard to bolt the door in the passage; it would not require two—if an accomplice went into one closet while the murder was done in the other the public would be excluded—it would be easier to be done like that than by a single person.
Re-examined. If one person bolted the door from the waiting-rooms he or she would be free from any interruption—Dalston Junction is the third station from Broad Street—fast trains do it in five minutes, stopping trains in seven minutes—there are about eight trains in the hour, from Broad Street to Dalston between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m., stopping at No. 3 Platform, and about eight or nine going back—between 5 and 6 there might be ten or eleven trains going to Broad Street from No. 3 Platform—they would rather increase as the evening draws on—I do not know of any clinker bricks about the station.
JAMES PATMAN (108 J). I was called to Dalston Junction on October 27th at 6.48—I arrived in the ladies' waiting-room, where I found the station-master, who pointed out to me, in a water closet, the dead body of a child; lying near its head there was a clinker brick—I did not disturb the body or anything till Dr. Fennel came—just after he came a police-sergeant, named Birch, came, and after the doctor had seen the position of the child the policesergeant took charge of the brick—a black shawl partly covered the body.
ENDOR LUCAS . I am a clerk, and live with my father at Havre, in France—I am a Frenchman and 19 years old—I came to England in August, 1898, and went to live at 31, Bethune Road, which is next door to No. 29—I lived at 31 till early in last November—I first made the prisoner's acquaintance at the end of last year, when she was living with Mrs. Cadisch at No. 29—I knew Mrs. Cadisch first; I was a visitor at her house, where I met the prisoner—I continued my visits up to last Whitsuntide, when I paid a visit to Brighton with the prisoner and a lady and gentleman—we all four stayed at an hotel kept by a Mr. Findlay at 36, Queen's Road, Brighton; we occupied rooms No. 10 and 11, two adjoining bedrooms on the first floor—we stayed there from a Saturday till the Monday, and then returned to London—after our return my relations with the prisoner became more friendly, and I began to walk out with her about a month after—that was not known to her sister and brother-in-law—I wrote to her sometimes, and she wrote to me—she addressed her letter
to me at my office—I have not preserved any of her letters—sometimes I met her at the Loudoun Road Station about 6.45, when we would go to Dalston Junction by train—I went from Broad Street to meet her at Loudoun Road—we would return from Dalston Junction to Bethune Road by tram—we would leave the tram at Manor Road and go together on foot to the Bethune Road, and I would part with her at the door of 29—I went in on other occasions, but not on these, because I did not want Mrs. Cadisch to know that I had been out with the prisoner—I met the prisoner at other places, but most often at Loudoun Road—she told me that she had had an illegitimate child—she first mentioned it about the beginning of September—I cannot remember where we were walking when she told me—I had been walking out with her for some time before she told me—I do not think I had been making love to her before she told me—I do not call that love—when she told me she had a child I said, "I am glad to know that"—I did not want to know any more about the child, and that I was very pleased to know that she had told me, and that it was fair of her to tell me—I was not making love to her then specially—I met her sometimes once and sometimes twice a week—I wrote sometimes one or two letters to her in a fortnight—they were letters of appointment or friendship—I threw them away because I did not want anybody to see them; I do not know why—I did not want them lying about in my pocket—I said before the Magistrate, "They were love letters; they were about meeting; there were loving terms in them"—we do not understand that in France as one does in England—love is not the same thing in France as it is in England—I do not think they would be called love letters in England—I think you cannot call them loving terms in English—on October 24th or 25th I met the prisoner at Liverpool Street Station by appointment—I think I made the appointment, but I cannot remember whether by letter or word of mouth—I had met her there before a few times—I did not know anything about Tottenham—she had not told me where the child was—I did not know that it was at Tottenham—on this occasion she told me she was going to Brighton on the Friday from London Bridge by the 4 o'clock train—I said I should like to go too, to meet her on the Saturday at Brighton—she said she intended staying at Mr. Findlay's hotel, in the Queen's Road, where we had stopped at Whitsuntide—I said I would go down by the 2 o'clock train on Saturday from London Bridge, which arrives at Brighton at 3.20—she said she would meet me at the station there—I said I would not go in my own name, and should like to take another, and I gave her the name of Brooks as that which I should go in—she also was to take the name of Brooks, and we were to go as brother and sister—she was to take two rooms—I was to write to her and tell her what train I was to take at London Bridge—I had already told her, but I was not quite sure—when I met her at Liverpool Street we went to Clapton by train, and then we went home to Bethune Road, where I parted from her—she did not mention the child during that interview—she only mentioned it a very few times after the first time—she said she had seen it; that was all—she never told me that she intended taking it to France, or that she intended to hand it over to anybody in London—on Friday, the 27th, I wrote to her in the name of Brooks at Findlay's
hotel, when I knew that I could get away by the 2 o'clock train from London Bridge on the Saturday—I went by it—we arrived punctually, and the prisoner met me on the platform—we walked to the hotel, I carrying my luggage—I did not give any name at the hotel then—I found the rooms Nos. 10 and 11, which we had had at Whitsuntide, engaged—the prisoner seemed calm and quiet, nothing extraordinary about her—we stayed there together that night, and slept in the same bed—that was the first time that I had had connection with her—she did not mention the child—we remained there all day Sunday—she seemed very quiet, the same as usual—she did not make any statement with regard to the child on Sunday, and we travelled up together on Sunday evening to London Bridge—the prisoner had a brown bag (Produced)—we went home to Bethune Road, by cab to Stoke Newington Station, and walked from there; it is about five minutes' walk—I parted from her at the corner of Kildos Street, about 60 yards from her door—I left her at 9 o'clock, and I did not see her again till after she was arrested—the question of marriage had never been discussed between us.
Cross-examined. I do not remember the suggestion of going to Brighton again after Whitsuntide being discussed from time to time—that she had had a child was not at all material to me—my income was not sufficient to offer marriage to anyone; I was earning £3 a month—I continued on exactly the same terms with the prisoner after she had told me she had had a child as before—I did not know that she would have to make excuses to enable her to go to Brighton—I said before the Coroner "I knew she would have to make an excuse to get to Brighton"—her age is 34, and mine 18—I never wrote her letters promising her marriage, nor love letters in that sense—when I got to Brighton her demeanour was as usual—I asked her what train she came by—she said the 4 o'clock from London Bridge—I went freely in and out of her room—her door was not locked against me.
Re-examined. I arrived at the hotel about 3.20 or 3.30—I fetched my luggage from the station—it was about 10 minutes' walk—the rooms did not communicate—I went outside of mine to reach hers in the night—I was in her room once or twice on the Sunday—we were staying at the hotel as brother and sister—I knew that—she did not tell me what her excuse was to get to Brighton—I was earning £3 a month as correspondence clerk—my object was to learn English—my father is well-to-do—on the return journey the prisoner brought a grey light waterproof, in addition to the gladstone bag—she carried it over her arm—I only saw it on that occasion.
ALICE RIALL . I am chambermaid in the hotel kept by Mr. Findlay, in the Queen's Road, Brighton—on Friday, October 27th, the prisoner arrived about 9.45 p.m.—she stayed till Sunday evening, October 29th—she occupied No. 11 bedroom, on the first floor—on Saturday afternoon she was joined by a gentleman I now know to be Lucas—she ordered No. 10 bedroom on the Saturday night—I took the arrival—she said most likely she would want No. 10 for her brother, who would arrive between 4 and 5—Lucas came about 4.10—they slept in those adjoining rooms, as far as I know—the prisoner gave the name of Brooks—a letter came on the Saturday morning in the name of Brooks—I took it to her bedroom about 9.30 a.m
—there was nothing unusual in her condition or demeanour—she was very particular about having No. 11 room.
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that she had a small Gladstone brown bag and a wrapper or rolled up parcel; that on the Sunday afternoon I still saw the two articles—I call it a wrapper; it was a little plaid, bound round with leather—it was plaid pattern—I saw the luggage opposite the coffee-room door—I remember it because I asked the boots to take it up—I saw it in the bedroom about 1.45 on Sunday—I was off duty after that—it was by the side of the fire-place and the table—it appeared to be in the same position as it was on the Saturday—I saw some French fancy cakes in a drawer, not cakes bought in the hotel—they fitted in the little papers—I did not see any name on the paper.
JOHN FINDLAY . I keep an hotel in the Queen's Road, Brighton—on Friday, October 27th, I saw the prisoner in the lobby about 9.45 p.m.—she had two packages—the succeeding Wednesday I found in a drawer of No. 11 room the small scales produced—one scale had grains of what appeared to be sugar—I handed them to Police sergeant Burch.
ANN SKEATS . I am a widow, of 19, Buckingham Road, Brighton—I am assistant in charge of the first and second-class ladies' waiting-room at Brighton Railway Station—I was on duty on Saturday, October 28th, from 9 a.m. till 9 p.m.—there is a small inner room which adjoins the lavatory, in which I have a little box to keep my caps—on that Saturday afternoon, about 3.30, I found in my capbox a brown paper parcel—I am sure it was not there before—I kept it till about 5.40, when, in accordance with my duty, I took it to the cloak-room, and handed it to Henry Court.
HENRY COURT . I live at 23, Over Street, Brighton—I am cloak-room porter at the Brighton Railway Station—about 5.40 p.m. on Saturday, October 28th, Mrs. Skeats handed me a parcel—I kept it in the cloak-room till Monday, October 30th, when I opened it—I attached this label, and sent it to the Lost Property Office, at London Bridge, on October 31st—I forwarded the same paper—that was in the usual course of my duty.
WILLIAM JAMES BROWN . I am chief clerk at the Lost Property Office, at London Bridge Station of the L.B. & S.C. Railway—on November 1st I received a parcel with this label on it—in my presence it was handed to Sergeant Nursey that afternoon—it was opened the same Wednesday afternoon.
RICHARD NURSEY (Police-sergeant J). On November 1st I saw this parcel Opened—it contained this serge frock and this little blue coat—the next day I received this brown paper from Brown—I kept them till they were produced in Court—on Friday, November 3rd, I received from Ellen Gentle, at her residence, 210, Clyde Road, Tottenham, another piece of brown paper—I fitted them together, and found they corresponded (Produced)—on one piece are the letters "E. S."—part of the other piece is torn off—I was in charge of this case from November 1st—before that I made inquiries as to the identity of the child—with Burch and Forth I kept observation on 29, Bethune Road from 3.30 on Monday, November 3rd—information came to me from Mrs. Rees, the attendant at the ladies' waiting room at London Bridge—on November 21st I
Attended at the station superintendent's office—Mrs. Rees was sent for—she made a statement, which I took down in writing—she signed it—she was ordered to attend on November 24th at the North London Police-court—I was present in the yard and saw her identify the prisoner—I have tested the time of the trains between Dalston Junction and Broad Street—the express trains take five and the stopping trains seven minutes—I went from Dalston Junction to the foot of London Bridge by 'bus and walked into the station in 23 minutes—walking to the 'bus at the foot of the bridge, and going to the corner of Liverpool Street, and walking to Broad Street Station, took 25 minutes—I selected No. 3 Platform on the first occasion and then took my chance, but happened to come in at No. 3—there may be variations in time caused by stoppages.
Cross-examined. About seven or eight persons were present—there is no practice for the inspector to stand or follow at the back of the person identifying who is asked to touch the person she or he knows—Mrs. Rees stopped and put on her glasses, stopped and looked, and then pointed with her umbrella at the prisoner—I said, "Touch the one you mean," and she touched the prisoner—the inspector was not behind her that I remember—such a thing did not strike me—part of the yard is gravelled and part paved.
Re-examined. Persons are placed on the asphalted pavement in a semicircle for identification—they are allowed to choose their position—persons are collected like the accused, and great care is exercised according to instructions, which were carried out in this case.
By the COURT. We at first, in watching 29, Bethune Road, did not go near the house till dark, before 7; we tried to avoid observation.
RICHARD CADISCH . I live at 29, Bethune Road—I am the prisoner's brother-in-law—I remember her return home on Sunday, October 23rd—she brought this brown bag—it is mine—I did not notice any waterproof—I let her in—I did not see her again till Monday—about 2 a.m. on October 31st my brother-in-law, Mr. George Richard Simes, came to the house—Mr. Simes made a statement and remained some time with me—he and I went the following morning to London Bridge Station, with the object of going to his house at Croydon—it was about 8 o'clock—we noticed, in Stoke Newington, that we were followed to the station—we found they were police-officers—we spoke to them at the station—in consequence of what we stated they came with us to Mr. Simes' house at Croydon.
Cross-examined. When the prisoner returned on Sunday evening she seemed exactly in her usual spirits—I have four children—she has lived in our house about 18 months—she was kind and affectionate, and very much liked by the children—she earned from teaching enough for her wants—she was not distressed for money, so far as I know—she retained some pupils for several years—she went for two or three years to the same houses.
ALICE SONENTHAL . I am the wife of George Sonenthal, of 30, Bellsize Park, Hampstead—the nearest stations are Hampstead Heath and Finchley Road, or East London, about a quarter of an hour off, and Loudoun Road, which is the nearest—the prisoner Masset has given
lessons to my daughter since October, 1895, with several interruptions, including the summer vacations, when we were away, and when she was away in the spring of 1896 down to Monday, October 30th, last—I recommended her to Mrs. Haas—sometimes she came to me first, and some-times to her—I did not see her on the Monday; I heard her voice—Thursday would be one of her days for coming—she came three or four times a week.
Cross-examined. She gave every satisfaction—I had the fullest confidence in her.
Friday, December 15th.
GEORGE RICHARD SIMES . I am an auctioneer at New Streatham. Road, Croydon—I am married to the prisoner's sister—she visited us. from time to time at Croydon, before October 30th—I think the last time she came was at the beginning of August—I did hot expect any visit from her on October 30th, but about 11 p.m. I answered the door and found her there—she said, "Can I speak to you?"—I said, "Yes; what is it?"—she said, "I am being hunted for murder, but I have not done it"—I said, "The child found at Dalston was not yours, was it?"—I think she said, "Yes, I am sure that it is," or something like that—I asked her what she knew, and she said that she had seen at Dalston that evening a placard of an evening paper stating that the body had been identified, that she had bought a paper, and from the description she was sure that it was her child—she was very much agitated, and I tried to calm her before I said much more to her—I was fairly successful in calming her, and then I asked her to account for her movements on the Friday—she said she had handed the child over to two women at London Bridge railway station (South Coast), and had after-wards gone by the 4 o'clock train to Brighton; that she arrived a little before 6 o'clock, I think it was; that she went to Mutton's restaurant and had something to eat, and afterwards went to Mr. Findlay's hotel and engaged a room there; that Mr. Lucas was at Brighton on the Saturday; that was the first I heard of the visit to Brighton—by that time it was nearly 12 o'clock—I then left home and went to my brother-in-law, Mr. Cadisch, at Bethune Road, leaving the prisoner with my wife, her sister—I got to Bethune Road about 2.30 a.m., where I saw Mr. and Mrs. Cadisch, and had a conversation with them—I stayed the night there, and next morning left with Mr. Cadisch to go back to Croydon—we went to London Bridge Station on foot, when I noticed that we were being followed, and on our arrival at London Bridge, finding that it was the police who were following us, I spoke to them and made a statement, in consequence of which they accompanied us to Croydon, where we arrived about 10 a.m., when the prisoner was arrested.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was in a very hysterical state when she came to me—I told her that if she would tell me all about it, whatever it was, I would do my best for her, and I think she said, "How could you think I could kill my own child?"—then she told me about Lucas going to Brighton, and that the story about the child going to France was untrue—I think I had heard of it from my wife—it was then that the prisoner told me of the meeting with the two women at Tottenham—I think she said at Tottenham Green—at any rate, one day when she had the child out—she
said that they had found out that it was a nurse-child, and that they were forming a home at King's Road, Chelsea, and that they said they would take the child for £12 a year; that she had agreed to hand over the child to them at London Bridge Station on the Friday, I understood in the general waiting-room; that she was to pay the £12 down in advance—I am not sure that she told me that she had gone to another waiting-room first—she said that she had met the two women, that she had given them the £12, and that they had left to go to the refreshment-room, taking the boy with them, for the purpose of getting something to eat—she said that she knew Lucas was coming on the following day, and asked me not to mention the fact to her people—she did not say she would go to the Police-station if she was wanted—I told her she must go, and she said, "Very well"—she made a statement to Sergeant Birch at my house in my presence, which he took down in writing—I know Dalston Junction and No. 3 Platform fairly well, and that there is large traffic there—I went with the prisoner to the station, where she twice asked to see the dead body of the child—her request was not granted then—I had an interview with her in the cells after she was remanded, and she urged me to arrange for her to see the child; which she did, in spite of my telling her it was not in a condition to be seen—I was aware of the existence of the child, and we all considered her to be very fond of it.
Re-examined. I never saw the child myself—I knew it was at Tottenham—I believe I heard of its intended removal to France on the Friday when the murder was committed—I heard that the pair had gone to France with the child to hand it over to some relations of the father, who would take care of it in the future—I did not hear that the father had been in England in the week which ended on October 14th—the prisoner told me of more than one meeting with the two women prior to October 27th—I believe she said that the place of meeting on each occasion was at Tottenham Green, at about 2 o'clock—she told me that she waited in the waiting-room on the 27th for the purpose of getting a receipt for her money which she had paid the two women—it was from her that I first learned of the visit to Brighton, as well as the fact that Lucas had been down there from the Saturday to the Sunday night.
WILLIAM BURCH (Sergeant J). I and other officers kept watch on 29, Bethune Road on the afternoon of October 30th—we got there about 3.30—Sergeant Nursey was with me—the prisoner did not come to that house at all that evening—next morning I followed Mr. Cadisch and Mr. Simes to London Bridge Railway Station, and then went with them to Mrs. Simes, at Croydon—I saw the prisoner—I was with Detective Allen—I said to her "We are police officers; you had a child which you took from its nurse last Friday Can you account for it to me?"—she said, "I last saw my child Manfred Louis Masset, aged 31/2, on Friday at London Bridge Railway Station in the waiting-room; I gave it to two women, who gave the address at 45, King's Road, Chelsea, with £12, mostly gold, to take care of it for a whole 12 months; I had seen them at Tottenham Green four Wednesdays ago; that would be October 4th; they first spoke to me and by their conversation with me they found out it was a nurse child; they said they were setting up a
home, and would I mind letting them have mine for £12 a year"—I took this statement down in writing at the time—she said that at first she did not agree, but that she would see them again next Wednesday; that she had the child with her, and decided to leave it with them for that sum, and arranged to meet them at London Bridge on the 27th; that she met them, but before doing so she went into the waiting-room near the parcels' office, where there was a woman attendant who had a cap on, and another attendant came to relieve her while the prisoner was there; that the woman took the bag, and went out as they asked the child if he would like a cake; that she waited there two or three minutes for a receipt for her money, but they never came back; and that she had never seen her child since—when that statement was made I did not know that Miss Leahan and Miss Briggs had communicated with the police—I said to her, "You will have to go to Dalston Police Station"—she said, "I will go willingly"—she was taken to the station and charged by Inspector Forth—on November 1st I was at Brighton, and Mr. Findlay handed me some toy scales (Produced)—I also produced the clinker brick found in the lavatory at Dalston Junction—I saw the body of the child in the lavatory on the night of the 27th, and one part of the brick was on one side of the head, and the other part on the other side—there was a portion broken off—this black shawl was round the body of the child—on November 28th I took a journey from No. 1 Platform at Dalston Junction to Broad Street by train, and then by 'bus to London Bridge—I left Dalston at 5.42 p.m., and arrived at London Bridge at 6.17 p.m.—I waited about 5 minutes for a 'bus.
Cross-examined. The statement I took down is in the identical language in which she spoke—this (Produced) is the original note, and part of it is the result of my questions and her answers.
Re-examined. The language used is the language of the prisoner—I repeated everything she said, while I was writing it down, so that I should have it correct.
HENRY WILLIS . I live at 45, King's Road, Chelsea, where I carry on the business of a dairy; I have had the place for ten years—there is no home for nurse children kept there—I employ four female assistants in the business, and also a female domestic servant—my wife lives there, and those are the only females in the establishment—I got a visit from a policeofficer soon after October 27th—I am quite sure that none of the females at my address were away on October 27th; they were all there between 8 a.m. and 8 p.m.—I have no lodgers.
WILLIAM BOWERS . I am a guard employed on the London, Brighton and SouthCoast Railway, and was in charge of the train due to leave London Bridge at 4 p.m. on October 27th for Brighton; we left at 4.1, and arrived at 5.19, four minutes late.
JOHN WHITTLE . I am a guard employed by the London, Brighton and SouthCoast Railway, and was in charge of the train due to leave London Bridge for Brighton at 7.22; we left at 7.23, and arrived at 9.18, eight minutes late.
FREDERICK FORTH (Inspector J). I am the inspector in charge of this case—these are two lines of omnibuses between London Bridge and Stoke Newington—I was present at the Dalston Police-sation when Mrs.
Rees identified the prisoner on November 24th—she picked her out without any aid from me or anyone—on October 31st the prisoner was first brought to the station, and Sergeant Burch showed me a statement made by the prisoner, which he had taken down—I read it, and then said to the prisoaer, "You will be charged with the murder of your child"—she said, "Impossible"—the charge was read over to her—she said, "Cannot I say something to clear myself"—I said, "Yes, if you like"—Mr. Simes, who stood near, said, "You had better not say anything now," and she said nothing—on November 2nd I was at the Coroner's inquiry, and also the prisoner, and she asked to see the child—the permission was given, and I accompanied her into the mortuary, where the dead body lay—when she saw it she said, "Oh! my child, my poor boy"—she was affected—this (Produced) is a photograph of the child after death, which I had taken about noon on October 28th—it correctly represents the condition of the child's face at the time—there had been a great change between October 28th and November 2nd—I went to 29, Bethune Road, and in the back garden there is a grotto or rockery formed of clinker bricks—I took these two bricks (Produced)—when I took them away there were no traces left of their having been taken—there are also some clinker bricks in the front garden, forming a border, and there were some loose on the ground—I took away three and compared them with the clinker brick found by the child's body—they are apparently of the same kind—on November 28th I took a journey from No. 2 platform at Dalston Junction to Broad Street—I left Dalston at 6.5 p.m., and after waiting a few minutes at Broad Street I went by 'bus to London Bridge, arriving there at 6.35—the distance from Bethune Road to Dalston Junction is 17/8 miles, and from Dalston Junction to the Birdcage public-house, 13/4 miles—from the Birdcage to Tottenham Green is about 11/4 miles, from Tottenham Green to King's Road, Chelsea, is about 81/2 miles.
Cross-examined. I could not see any place from where the bricks were missing—the loose ones had been lying loose on the ground some time apparently.
Cross-examined. Mrs. Rees halted two or three times before getting to the prisoner.
Re-examined. She then went up to her and identified her, about six or seven yards in front of Inspector Forth.
MARIAN FITZGERALD . I am a book-keeper at Bertram and Roberts' refreshment-room at London Bridge station—I know Mrs. Rees, who is the attendant at the ladies' waiting-room nearest the refreshment-room—I remember her making a statement to me, as near as I can possibly say, on Wednesday or Thursday, November 2nd or 3rd.
JAMES PATRICK FENNELL . I am a registered medical practitioner, and live at 20, Dalston Lane—on Friday, October 27th, I was called to Dalston Junction at 6.55—I went at once to the water-closet, which is attached to the ladies' waiting-room, arriving there about three minutes after being called—on the floor I saw the dead body of a child—it was behind the door, a few inches from the partition, with its
head towards the corridor, and its body towards the seat of the closet—the left leg was bent at the knee, the outer surface of the leg resting on the ground, and the foot under the right thigh—the body, with the exception oi the head and legs, was loosely covered with a black shawl; it was simply laid over it, not tied round it—I felt the body on my arrival, and found the trunk was warm; stiffening had not set in, the extremities were cold—I saw some bruises and abrasions on its head—I should say it had been dead about one hour, but I cannot fix the time—in my opinion the longest period ihat it could have been dead was two or three hours, four hours would be the outside time—I think the shortest time within which it could have died would be within an hour—the photograph which has been produced shows the condition when I saw it on October 27th—I did not then come to any conclusion as to the cause of death—I noticed that the tongue protruded slightly between the teeth, which is one of the signs of death by suffocation—there were bloodstains on the head and forehead, and a small clot on the floor to the left of the child's head—I saw a clinker brick there, and I afterwards made an examination of it—there appeared to be bloodstains upon one corner of it, but I cannot say that it was bloodstains—there wete also two hairs corresponding to the hairs on the eyebrows of the child—the brick was an instrument with which the injuries to the child's head might have been inflicted, and I believe it was the implement with which they were caused—I do not attach any importance to the position of the left leg—I beheve the child died in the closet, and was not removed there after death—the child's bowels had been evacuated, which, I should say, took, place at the time of death—the clot of blood on the floor could have been covered with a florin—the blood being there would indicate, I think, that death had taken place in the closet—the lips were blue, which would be another indication of death by suffocation—the upper lip was slightly swollen—the tip of the nose was bruised, which might indicate pressure; over the nose—under my instructions the body was conveyed to the mortuary, where I made the postmortem examination, when I found a bruise on the forehead extending from above the centre of the left eyebrow to the outer side of the right eye-brow—it was of recent infliction, but I cannot say positiviely whether before or after death, but it was immediately before or after death—it would require much violence to inflict—it was a bruise only, not a wound—it might have been inflicted by a clinker brick—there was a lacerated, punctured wound 1in. above the inner side of the left eyebrow 1/4 in. long—there was a small wound of the same character immediately beneath it, and at the outer end of the right eyebrow there was a lacerated, penetrating wound, and a very small wound beside it—at the inner end of the right eyebrow there was a small lacerated wound—outside the left eyebrow there was a small abrasion and a bruise—there was a curved bruise extending from the right side of the nose across the cheek to the outside of the right under eyelid, about 1/2in. wide at its widest part—a bruise of a similar character extended from the left side of the nose across the cheek to a little beyond the centre of the left lower eyelid, ending in a small lacerated wound—there must have been a good deal of violence used to cause those
wounds and bruises—in my opinion they were all caused by some hard substance; a clinker brick would have caused them—the postmortem was made at 10 p.m. on Saturday night—I and Dr. Jackson, the livisional surgeon of police, made it together—when at the closet I saw a depression in the centre of the forehead about the size of half-a-crown, with some gritty dust on it; it was gritty to the feel of the fingers—at the postmortem I found the surface of the body pale, with the exception of the face; the body was clean and well nourished—the child had been circumcised—there was no disease of the organs—the brain was congested, and the large venus channels in the interior of the skull were full of blood, which was indicative of death from want of air—it is a sign I should expect to find in death from suffocation—I believe the child died from suffocation—I speak of suffocation as quite distinct from strangulation the injuries on the child's head were not sufficient by themselves to cause death; it is not possible to say whether the external injuries were caused immediately before or after death; the appearance would be the same—probably the child would be stunned, and probably the stunning and suffocation would be quite close to each other; they might almost be simultaneous.
Cross-examined. I said before the Coroner "I think he must nave been dead at least half-an-hour; I think the child had certainly been killed within an hour of my seeing him"—I cannot say if rigor mortis takes place sooner after suffocation than in ordinary circumstances—I do not think rigor mortis would intervene more rapidly if there had been struggling immediately before death, unless it had been prolonged—I do not think the ordinary struggling in suffocation would be sufficient to induce rigor mortis to set in earlier than normally.
Re-examined. It is most difficult to fix the precise time when this, child died—I think it had been dead about an hour.
CHARLES HOWARD JACKSON . I am divisional surgeon of police and live at 69, Cliverly Road—I assisted at the postmortem examination on the body of the child on October 28th—I agree with Dr. Fennel that the injuries on the face and forehead must have been caused by violence and with some hard substance, as the clinker brick which has been produced—I say that it is impossible to say whether the injuries were inflicted either immediately before or after death—I agree that the general condition of the organs were healthy, and also that the death was caused by suffocation, which may have been caused by pressure of the hand over the nose and mouth—the tongue protruding through the teeth is another indication of death from suffocation—it is difficult to say precisely how long the child had been dead.
Cross-examined. I did not have an opportunity of judging how long it had been dead by its temperature; I think it is impossible for Dr. Fennel or for me to say how long the child had been dead—he did not tell me what the temperature was; he did not say that the w.c. was draughty—I wish to differ from Dr. Fennel when he says that the child had been dead an hour when he saw it.
Re-examined. Heat may remain in the body for eight or 16 hours after the death, if you wrap it up; under the conditions in which this body waa found it might be from eight to four hours.
THOMAS BOND . I am a F.R.C.S., and consulting surgeon at the Westminster Hospital—I have had much experience in giving evidence in courts of justice—I have studied the depositions in this case, and I have heard the evidence given in Court today—I cannot form any certain opinion as to how long the child had been dead irhen seen by Dr. Fennel; but I should say between one hour and four—I quite think an hour would elapse.
Cross-examined. I think I am much more qualified to give an opinion than Dr. Fennell—I have seen so many hundreds of dead bodies with regard to giving evidence; but a man who is present has a better opportunity of judging than one who comes afterwards.
By the COURT. The study, observation, and examination of questions like this does not form part of the practice of an ordinary practitioner—I have given special attention to questions of this kind.
INSPECTOR FORTH (Re-examined). I have been in the water-closet on other days since the one on whicn the body was found, and I have made experiments with matches and so on, and I find that it is not cold or draughty.
Cross-examined. I heard Dr. Fennel! examined at the Police-court; I cannot remember him saying that the closet was cold and draughty.
DR. FENNELL (Re-examined by LORD COLERIDGE). I said before the Magistrate that the closet was a cold and draughty place; that is true.
By MR. MATHEWS. I was speaking generally; I had made no tests.
The Prisoner, in her defence, on oath stated that she delivered the child to two women named Browning at London Bridge Station as arranged, and then went to Brighton by the 4p.m. train on the 27th, deceiving her friends by the story of her journey to France to take the child to his father; that she admitted that on seeing the newspaper announcement of the identification of the body she prosecuted no inquiries; that although she mentioned the name Browning here for the first time, she had disclosed it to her solicitors, and if she had been asked she would have done so earlier, and that she had not injured the boy in any way.
H. E. GENTLE (Re-examined). I did not know of the little girl Millie.
Cross-examined. I knew of the little boy playing at Tottenham Green on the afternoon of October 4th only; that was the occasion we went to Tottenham, and he played while his mother and I were sitting down that was the only time I had ever been to Tottenham.
By the COURT. On other occasions, when the boy came back, he said he had been to the Green—I had never heard of his having played there before.
GUILTY .— DEATH.
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 18th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LAWLESS Prosecuted.
Bloomsbury—the prisoner Burton came to me, as a general servant, on August 26th, and left without notice—on the day before she left there was a bank bag, with 10s. worth of bronze and silver, in my sitting-room; I missed it, and also a earring, some brooches, bangles, and other articles, value about £13—this (Produced) is my wife's watch and chain—I do not know the prisoner.
Cross-examined by Charlton. A reference was given to me to Mrs. Woodford, as having been there 15 months and 14 days; I applied there, and they said that you had never been there at all.
MARTHA UTMUS . I am in the prosecutor's employ—on August 25th Burton and I slept in the same room, and in the morning, when she was not there, her dress was behind the door, and some money fell out of her pocket—I did not say anything to her about it—when she left I examined the room, and missed some small things, worth about 10s., which were safe before she left.
LOUISA GREEN . I am the wife of Frank H. Green, of Duke Street—I put an advertisement in a newspaper in October, and the girl Burton called on me, and in consequence of what she said I called at 68, Lambeth Road, and I saw the prisoner Charlton; he represented himself as Burton's eldest brother, and said that she had never been out before, and that I could not see her father, because he was ill, and that her mother was lying down, and that she would send the girl round next morning, and she came—she remained with me a week, and the prisoner called to see her several times—I had given her notice on a Saturday evening, and on the Sunday afternoon Charlton called, and I said that I had lost a pair of opera glasses; he said that he was very much surprised—I had found out on the Saturday morning that he was not her brother—he came again on the 20th to see the girl—I said that she had gone—he is the man.
FREDERICK GOOD . I am assistant to John E. Thompson, pawn-broker, of 165, Tottenham Court Road—I produce a gold watch and Albert pawned by the prisoner on August 31st, in the name of t John Casler, for £1, and on October 7th he returned and had another advance of 10s.—he said that it belonged to his sister—it is worth about £3.
WILLIAM CHARLTON . I am Charlton's brother-in-law—he married my sister, and he adopted my name—I am a pianoforte proprietor—he had been living at my place a fortnight before he was arrested—I was there when the officer came, and found this silver buckle and bangles and suit of clothes in the room he occupied.
HARRY CALLAGHAN (Police Court Seryeant, E). I received information from Mr. Denne and saw Burton in custody at Bow Street on October 20th—in consequence of what she said I went and saw Charlton—I asked him if his name was Charlton—he said, "No, Jones"—I said, "Do you work for the Givut Western Railway?"—he said, "No"—I called Burton in and she said that he was Charlton—I said that I was going to take him in custody for stealing and receiving property with Ada Burton—he said, "No"—T took him to Bow Street and confronted him with Ada Burton, whose statement I read (Stating that Charlton wrote to her and induced her to steal and bring things to him)—he said, "Where are the letters you say I wrote to you?"—she said, "I destroyed them, as you told me, so that I should not be found out"—I asked his address—he
said, "20, North Street"—I went there, and in the room which the brother and he occupied I found brooches and a case—he then said that he pawned the watch and chain in Euston Road for £1.
JAMBS SPENOER . I am a coppersmith, of Kensington—in September last I was living at 16, Spencer Terrace—the prisoner occupied the room opposite mine in a private lodging-house—before he left I missed this suit of clothes, worth £3; these gloves were in the pocket—the prisoner left about a week after that, and I did not see him till he was in custody.
JOHN BEARD (Detective L). On December 3rd I went to North Street, Islington, and these things were handed to me by the wife of the prisoner's brother-in-law—I saw the prisoner at Bow Street, and said, "These have been handed to me by your sister-in-law; you will be charged with stealing them on or about September 16th"—he said, "I did not steal them; she gave me a ticket, and I got them from the pawnbroker and paid 16s. for them."
ADA EMILY BURTON (The prisoner). I am 14 years old—I met the prisoner on June 3rd—I was with another girl aged 18—he spoke to us, and said that his name was Charlton, and asked me to go with him—I did so, and stayed with him two days—I continued to Bee him off and on down to the end of August—I stayed with him—I went to Mr. Denne's, in consequence of what he said, and wrote me a letter and told me to steal all I could—I did so, and took the things to his lodgings—he did not give me any money—I saw Mrs. Green's advertisement and went there, and said that I was his sister, and I remained with her four weeks, till I was arrested.
Cross-examined by Charlton. I did not go to Clapham Common nor to a public-house in Stamford Street—you did not tell me to keep from bad companions—you wanted me to go on the streets—you sent me a letter telling me to run away—I told you at first that I was 17, but afterwards I said that I was only 14—I did not tell you that a gentleman seduced me in a railway carriage—I never went with him—when I ran away from home on June 2nd it was entirely through you—you did not find a fireman locked in a room with me—he came in in consequence of a fire at the back of our house, and you followed him.
Re-examined. I ran away from home because my mother was ill and all the responsibility fell upon me, as I lived at Mr. Reed's house.
----, Fireman 46. Not examined in chief.
Cross-examined. There was a fire at the rear of this house in Walnut Tree Walk about 11.15 a.m., and Burton said she was frightened, and asked me to come in—I did so*and you came in—I was not looked in a room with the girl.
By the COURT. I broke the glass and got the engines—I told Charlton if he wanted to make any report against me at the station he could do so, but he did not.
Charlton, in his defence, stated thai Burton first came to him in June, and, being sorry for her, he gave her money fora lodging, and got hera situation, from which she ran away after two months, and got into bad company in Stamford Street, and that after she went to Mr. Denne's she came to him and said, "You have been very good to me," and gave him the gold-watch and chain, and that soon afterwards, they lived together, but
had a few words, and she came home to her mother's house; thai she gave him the pawn-ticket for the suit of clothes at the end of September, and said that her brother gave them to her, and that he (Charlton) did not pawn the clothes, but he redeemed them.
CHARLTON— GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude. BURTON— Discharged on Recognizances.
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted and MB. LAWLESS Defended.
WILLIAM HENBY CABR . I am a barman, but not in employment—I live at 90, Highgate Road—early on Monday, October 22nd, I was at my father's house—my sister-in-law came in and made a statement to me, and I went out and saw the prisoner near a corn chandler's shop—he is no relation of mine—he was looking at No. 98, and seemed the morsn for drink—I went up to him and asked him what he meant by that; I could not understand his reply—I told him he ought to know better—we walked up the road, and had an argument about the watching—I turned back and walked a few yards towards my father-in-law's house, and the prisoner called me a dirty rotten bastard, and struck me on my chest; we fought for a few minutes, and he went to the ground—Walsh and Green came up and said to me, "You are bleeding"—I looked down, aid found my shirt was full of blood—the prisoner was on the ground then; three or four of his companions said, "Come away"—he did so, and I went to the police—a witness said, "He has got a knife io his hand"—I found three wounds on my body, and went to the Police-station, and was ex-amined by the surgeon there—the prisoner was brought to the station, and I charged him—I was in the hospital five weeks.
Cross-examined. I had never seen him before—it had been rather foggy in the day, but it was not so fogqy that I could not see—it was 1 a.m., and all the shops were shut up—any lights there were were on the lamp post—the prisoner was dressed in the Midland Railway coat, and corduroy trousers—the row commenced on the pavement, and we proceeded into the road—Walsh and Green were two yards off—I am cert tin thnt the prisoner had no parcel under his arm; his companions, were three or four yards away—I cannot say whether they all bad railway coats on—I did not come up to the prisoner as he was walking down the road and knock him down—I took off my coat to fight—I can use my fists—he was brought to the station before 3 o'clock; I saw him in custody, and said that he was the man—he had not a Midland Railway coat then, but he had when we fought—he was noc put with others.
Re-examined. I have not the least doubt he is the man with whom I had the fight—he walked up a road without my leading him.
RICHARD WALSH : I live at 9, Pemberton Terrace—on October 22nd I was outside the gate of 98, Highgate Road—I saw the prisoner about six yards off, watching my sister-in-law, at a corn chandler's door—I said, "What do you want with the young woman?"—she went in—I afterwards saw Carr standing outside in the road with my young woman—Carr went to the prisoner and asked him what business he had watching us—the prisoner answered, "I don't know you"—I and Carr walked
away—the prisoner shouted, "My mates are as good as yours," and called him a dirty rotten bastard—four Midland Railway men came up and asked him what was the matter—Carr said, "I cannot stand that," and look his coat off—he walked up to the prisoner and struck him—the prisoner had his hands in his pocket—he took his hand out and struck Carr on the right shoulder—they closed three times—the prisoner fell on the ground—when he was getting up I saw a knife sticking out of his hand—I said, "Look out, Carr, he has got a knife in his hand"—I saw blood on Carr's shoulder—when he opened his waistcoat the blood "swamped" his chest—the prisoner walked away with his pale—I walked with Carr towards the police-station—we met a policeman outside Hall's, the undertaker's—we went to the Midland Railway lodging-house in College Lane, near Highgate Road, twice—the second time we saw the prisoner, about 1.30, he had his hat and coat off—the policeman said, "I want you"—the prisoner said, "What is the matter I what do you want me for?"—the policeman said, "I want you to come with me to the station"—he said, "Wait a minute till I go and see my mates"—the policeman said, "No, I want you to come with me"—the prisoner halloaed out, "Don't forget to tell my mates I was in at 9.30"—the policeman searched and found a knife in his pocket—Carr, who was at the station, said, when the prisoner came in, "That is the man"—the Police-station is about ten minutes' walk from the lodging-house.
Cross-examined. This is the knife—I was close to Carr on his right—I saw the knife glittering in his hand—it was like this one—I could not see the handle—I saw the blade—the night was foggy—the prisoner was brought to the station about twenty-five minutes afterwards—he had a Midland Railway coat on—he was half drunk—he did not try to escape at the lodging-house—he put a small black coat on—I told the policeman the prisoner had a short Midland coat on—the prisoner said he had not—the policeman opened the knife he took from his pocket—there was fresh blood upon it.
ROBERT QRIEN . I am an optical glass maker, of 113, Highgate Road—I was returning home on the early morning of October 22nd—I saw three men on the pavement having a "jangle"—the prisoner was one—he had "M. R." on his collar—the other men I had seen at the Police-court were Carr and Walsh—I had to watt round them to get in my own garden—I heard Carr tell the prisoner not to get hanging about there interfering, bat to go away home—the prisoner was sober—then four railway men passed—one of them said, "What's up, Charley?"—he made no reply—Carr was walking away when prisoner called him a b—rotten bastard—it sounded like that to me—the railway men were one or two yards and the others from three to twelve yards off—Carr told him if he repeated it he would hit him, and said to his friends, "Hold my coat, I can't stand it"—he took his coat off; rolled his sleeves up, and they closed—I saw something in the prisoner's hand—it appeared to be a knife—they got together a third time—the prisoner fell on the floor or slipped on the kerb—I saw the prisoner standing four or five yards off as I ran to Carr—as I caught hold of him I saw he was bleeding from the side, and blood spurted over
me—the prisoner went wtyh the four railway men—I got Carr to the North West London Hospital.
Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner during the fight about two or three minutes—I went in pursuit of him—it preyed on my mind in the night, and in the morning I went to the hospital and then to the Police-station about, 11 o'clock—I saw the prisoner about three weeks afterwards—I bad not forgotten his face—he was dressed as he was on the night of the occurrence—he had a cap on that night—he bad no cap on at the Police-court.
ALBERT TROWBRIDGE (216 Y). Shortly after 1 o'clock on October. 22nd Walsh, accompanied by the prosecutor, complained to me—I took the prosecutor to the station, where he was attended by the doctor—Walsh and I went to a lodging-house in the Highgate Road in consequence of what he told me—we left the house—on coming back in a few minutes the, prisoner was standing inside the doorway—he was pointed out to me by Walsh—I informed him of the charge—he said, "You have made a mistake, I, was not there," and that he had been in that lodging-house since 9.30 on Saturday evening—I arrested him—he atruggled—he said he had been playing draughts with his mates, and wanted to. go back to see them—I refused to allow him—he said to the lodging-house attendant, "You tell them what I have said"—I searched him, and lound this pocket-knife—it was stained with blood—the stain is there now in the centre of the blade—the knife had been in his warm pocket—I took him to the station—as soon ai I entered, the prosecutor said, "That is the man."
Cross-examined. He did not ask to put his coat on—he said, "I want to get back to my pals," or to his males—he went to where the men hang their coats—he put his coat on—Walsh said he had "M.R." on his coat collar—the prisoner did not say he had been cutting up raw beef to cook, for his dinner—I believed he told the inspector so—the blood was dry.
Re-examined. The coat he put on was not a Midland coat—he put a private coat on—a good many coate were hanging up.
JOHN YEOMANS (Inspector, Y). I am stationed at Kentish Town Police-station—about 1.15 on Sunday morning, October 22nd, Trowbridge brought the prisoner in—I was there when Carr was brought in—he was attended by the Divisional Surgeon—as he entered Carr said, "That's him"—I took the charge—whem the constable produced the pocket-knife, which was slightly blood-stained, the prisoner said, "I can account for that, for I cut some raw liver up the previous day at Child's Hill"—when the charge was read over he said, "I can get witnesses to prove I was not there"—he was sober.
Cross-examined. I have no doubt he is a man of good character.
WALTER PARSONS . I am a qualified medical practitioner and resident surgeon at the North West London Hospital—Carr was brought there at an early hour on, Sunday, October 22nd, bleeding from his chest—there were three wounds, one about two inches below the collar-bone on the right side, over the second rib, a small wound on the shoulder and another between those two—one was a punctured wound, which might be produced by this knife—it was not more than 3/4 in. in length—he was detained as an inpatient five weeks the wound was bleeding
freely, and I had to cut down the wound to find the bleeding vessel—I turned out the clots and stopped the vessel—he is now an outpatient, I believe—he has fairly recovered—he was in a state of collapse—the septic condition of the wound was the reason he was in the hospital so long—there must have been violence.
Cross-examined. I said at the Police-court that the importance of the wound was owing to the amount of blood lost, and no important vessel was injured.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath said that he only left his lodgings to fetch necessaries, but could only get a loaf so late, which he carried in paper under his arm, when he was knocked down; but lie used no knife, and the stain on the knife produced was from his hating cut raw meat to cook at his lodgings.
WILLIAM COBBY . I am an engine-driver on the Midland Railway Company—I live at 8, Midland Cottages, Wellingborough—I did not know the prisoner till I saw him on October 21-22—I had come from Northampton, and went to the Highgate Lodging House for the Midland Railway men, with three other Midland men, a driver and two firemen—the night was foggy—Jelly, one of them, is here—about 200 yards from the lodging-house I heard a struggle in the road about 15 yards off—I stood at the edge of the pavement—the prisoner came up—he was dressed in ordinary clothes—he was sober—he had a paper parcel—he spoke to one of the other men; I cannot say what he said—we all went on to the lodging-house together.
Cross-examined. The other men were nearer to him than I was—the time was about 1.15—I had signed off duty at Kentish Town at 12.40.
FREDERICK JELLY . I am a "past fireman" on the Midland Railway; I am a driver, too—I was going to the lodging-house on this foggy night—I saw Carr strike the prisoner in the road twice—the prisoner struck him back—I say the prisoner did not strike him back—Carr shoved him. down in the road—after that we walked away, Stimpson with, us—he had a short jacket on, not a Midland coat—he had a parcel under his arm—he did not seem drunk to me—we were in the mess-room when the policeman came.
Cross-examined. I never saw Stimpson strike him; they were wrangling—I heard Carr say he would b—y-well knock him down, if he he did not clear off—I did not hear Stimpson call Carr a rotten bastard—I knew Stimpson was a Midland man by his going to the lodging-house.
The Prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Two Months in the Second Division.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 19th. 1899.
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MR. RANDOLPH Prosecuted, and MR. ROUTH defended
The Prisoner stated that he would Plead Guilty to unlawful wounding, and MR. RANDOLPH having accepted that plea, the JURY returned a verdict of GUILTY . Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 19th, 1899.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
STANLEY DUNCAN CADBY . I am a clerk to Batey and Co., mineral water manufacturers—the prisoner was their traveller—his wages were 16s. 6d. and commission—he earned more in summer than in winter—lie earned £2 or £3 a week in June, including the 16s. 6d., but 35s. was the minimum whatever happened—he had a horse and van—the head foreman gives out the notes for the following morning, and the man puts out the goods—there is a record of the van load he takes out—he accounts in the evening either by actual coin or by credit ticket or by returned stock or empties—he was allowed a deposit on the empties—they are the same in his hands as cash—this is the firm's portion of the credit ticket—it represents that he left 5s. worth of goods with Mr. P. Fowler, of Roman Road, Barnsbury, on February 6th—he was paid on Saturdays—this other ticket represents goods left with Mr. Winter, of Hollingsworth, Hollo way, on November 15th—I did not see him the following Monday; he never returned.
JAMES MCKICKNEY . I am a commissionaire, and am also cashier to Raby and Co.—it is my duty to check all van tickets for travellers—the prisoner handed—me the 5s. credit note from Fowler, and I gave him credit for it—I should say that this is his writing, and I think the signature, "P. Fowler," is also his—I should say that he has made out the ticket, as well as signed it; he does that in the majority of cases; the tickets are in three parts; he hands one to the, customer, one to me, and the third is in the book—I took this under the impression that it had been signed by Fowler, and the other ticket I took in the same way, and gave the prisoner credit for 14s.—I take it to be the prisoner's writing; the same as the writer of the ticket—it is not part of the traveller's duty to sign the customer's name—the prisoner did not pay in his cash or credit notes on November 14th—he never came back.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The office closes between 9.20 and 9.40; you used to come at 8.15—if you discovered that I had overcharged you, you would come again in the morning—I remember something about you being suspended for five days for being £11 short—I cannot remember the number of slips I gave you.
Re-examined. The practice is not to take the signature of the customer; we occasionally send a foreman round to the customers to see the amount of their credits; the foreman puts forward the entries; that is, the house-ticket that gives the total amount of returns—he brings the ticket to me, and haying proved the account, I gave the ticket to the prisoner—he does not take out tickets under my nose; he is supposed to make them up in "the customer's shop—he was in the employ from June 26th to November 14th.
JOHN FOWLER . I am a grocer of 115, Roman Road—I had five-shillingsworth of goods from Batey's, for which I paid him—this ticket is not my writing—I did not take a receipt—I had no credit goods on that day.
Cross-examined. You paid something on one occasion, and could not get a receipt for the money.
ALBERT WINTER . I am a coppersmith—I have a shop at 40, Hollings-worth Street—two people named King and Carter live there, but no one named Winter—I know nothing about this ticket—this might be No. 40 or No. 60, but there is no No. 60 in the street—I have lived there twenty-two years.
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated thai he went to the offices at 8.40, as he was going to the theatre, but it was closed, and he could not pay the money in; that he stopped till about 11.15, and then went home, and this £2 was owing to him for wages.
Evidence for the Defence.
FREDERICK THOMAS OKIE . I was with the prisoner on November 14th, and heard Reading say that the prisoner wan going away—we came back to the office between 9 and 9.20, and found it closed, and went away.
Cross-examined. We were there between 9.20 and 10, and saw Mr. Wheatman there; he is the van traveller—if he says we were at the Stag at 8.30, it is not right—I told him I had left my wife, in the bar—we tried to get in at the office door—I said before the Magistrate, "The prisoner came back to the office about 5 to 9 with me and my wife"—when I said that I had not learned from McKickney that he had the office open till 9.50—I spoke of the time when we left the office.
Mr. READING. On November 14th, when the prisoner got off the van in the evening, I told him that I had seen Mr. Barton—I did not tell him on the Monday morning that he would get into trouble—I did not say on the Tuesday morning, "I shall be early this afternoon; I am sure I can let you go"—nor like this, "The man who drove before me got into trouble and got eight months or six mouths"—I did not sign the ticket, I never did such a thing in my life—I remember your being absent five days—I do not know whether it was because he was £11 abort.
By the COURT. I am the foreman—it is my duty to go round and see that the travellers have done their business, and if I find that a credit customer has paid cash I report him, but I was not on this round—there is no ground for saying that I am an accomplice; I have been in the service nine years.
GUILTY .— Ten Months' Hard Labour
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BLACKWELL Prosecuted.
ARTHUR BOYCE . I live at 19, Farm Terrace, Shadwell Heath—I am a railway shunter on the Great Eastern Railway—this is my child's mailcart—I saw it about 6.35 on November 28th in my front garden—about 7:25 it was not there—I went to look for it—I spoke to Constable Crisp—I went by train to Romford, and saw it at a lodging-house, where the prisoner was arrested—he said he bought it for 5 1/2 d. and a glass of beer—I bought it at Roberta's, at Stratford, nioe years ago, for 14s.
Crossexamined by the Prisoner. I saw the mailcart driven by a man about 7.15—I asked my wife whether she had left it in the garden—the constabte asked in the lodging-house who owned the cart, and you said, "I do"—I did not recognise anyone—you volunteered to come back to Shad well—you had it against your knees in the lodging-house, and owned it.
JAMES CRISP (293 K). I am stationed at Shadwell Heath—on November 28th Boyce spoke to me, and I accompanied him to a lodging-house at Romford, where I saw the prisoner sitting alongside it—I asked him if he brought it there—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said he gave 5 1/2 d. for it in the Shadwell Road—I asked him if he could point out the man he got it from—he said, "No," and that he only knew him by a black beard and a new cap—as the explanation was not satisfactory I asked him to accompany me to Shadwell Policestation—he said, "All right, I'll go and clear the matter up"—it was about 8 p.m.—the distance from the prosecutor's house is about two miles.
Crossexamined by Prisoner. I saw the cart in the lodging-house, and said to the lodging-house keeper, "Did this man tetch this mail cart in?"—he said, "Yes," and pointed to you—I said you should have the privilege of identifying the man you had it from, but I could not take you into a public-house to do so—I did not tell the prosecutor in the passage to make a charge—he asked me to find the man—he said he could not identify you—I made a mistake at the Police-court when I said it was missed at 6.35, it must have been 7.15—there is no mistake in the time 7.25, because the prosecutor had to catch that train.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath stated that he bought the cart for 5 1/2 d., and that he lived by selling fish and rabbit skins. He handed in a written statement to the same effect.
NOT GUILTY .
Leyton—on Saturday, November 13th, I turned out my, black mars into a field—I missed her next morning, and gave information to the police—on Sunday, November 26th, I saw her again with her tail out, and she had been painted all over, and was rather green—I bred her myself, and have got her old mother.
WILLIAM ALLERTON FROST . I live at 11, Lei Bridge Gardens, Leyton—on November 26th, about 2 o'clock; I was in Commercial Street, and saw the two prisoners—Walsh was driving a pony—I drove after them and stopped them, and detained them till a policeman came up.
OLIVER THOMPSON (Policeman, G) On November 26th Frost gave the prisoners into my custody; they said that the pony had been stolen—Walsh said, "I will go with you, but I bought the pony"—Williams said nothing.
GEORGE KING (Police-sergeant). On November 26th I was on duty at Lea Bridge Station about 3 p.m., when the prisoner were brought in—I told them that the pony had been stolen, and asked where they got it—Walsh produced a receipt, and said, "I bought it of Mr. Brown for £9 10s.; it wag one out of five"—I asked if he knew Mr. Brown—he said that he never saw him before, and did not know where he lived.
JAMES BALLARD (Detective Sergeant, N). On December 12th I saw Walsh at the Police-court—he said, "I bought the horse at Stapleton's, of a man named Brown, on November 20th; I gaye him £9 10s. for the pony and harness, and the receipt produced is the one he gave me"—he did not mention any hour.
WILLIAM BRADFORD . I am a carman, of 3, Moss Street, Bethnal Green—on November 20th I was stationed on Southwark Bridge, with a horse, and saw Walsh pass about 7.40 a.m., and again between 9 and 10, and Again about 11.10, going towards Tooley Street, in charge of a horse and cart, carting bricks—I knew him as a carman.
GEORGE HAWKFIELD . I am a carman working for Fortescue and Son, of Manor Street, Hackney—on November 20th I met Walsh carting bricks for Fortescue on Southwark Bridge, on the south side; the last time I saw him was 9.45.
HENRY ALWORTHY (Re-examined). The pony would have been three years old on January 24th; it was not quite broken in, but it would go in harness—I value it at £20, but it would not fetch so much at Stapleton's—I was offered £14 for it when it was only 14 months old.
The prisoners produced written defences, in which Walsh stated that he bought the pony for £9 10s. of a man outside Stapleton's who was too late to put it into the sale, and that if he had been allowed bail he could have found the man. Williams stated that he met Walsh, who took him to Staple ton's, where he bought the pony for £9 10s. of a man who gave him a receipt, and that Walsh then asked him to take the pony home, as he wanted to finish his work.
WALSH— GUILTY . He then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction at Clerkenwell on February 11th, 1899.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. WILLIAMS— NOT GUILTY .
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted,
GUILTY .—He received a good character.—Recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Judgment Respited.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted.
ARTHUR THOMAS MOSS . I am a watchman, of 398, Romford Road—on November 25th I was appointed watchman at Wood and Dixon's warehouse—I had to make rounds to see that the premises were safe—I last saw them safe at 9.30, when I carefully locked the door, and went to a fire—as I went I saw three men on a footbridge crossing a railway—they were about 50 yards from me—I could see them, and am sure the prisoner was one of them—anybody coming across the bridge could get to the factory—I went through the office and back to the warehouse, as I heard a dog bark—that was five or six minutes after—I saw the men coming over the bridge—I heard some conversation at the side gate in a very low tone—I looked over the gate and saw a man run away—I then got over the side gate, got to the door, and put the key in—it would not turn, but the door opened, and I saw the prisoner just inside—I did not speak to him; he struck me on my eye, and knocked me down—I struggled with him, caught hold of his legs and pulled him down—we had a long struggle—a boy was parsing the door—I sent for the police, and the prisoner was taken—I am still suffering from the injuries be inflicted on me.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I saw you coming over the bridge, and followed you.
THOMAS GRREN (581 K). A boy called me to Wood and Dixon's, which was half a mile off—I saw Moss on the ground, and saw the prisoner strike him; he gave the prisoner into my custody—he was very violent.
HENRY MOORE (14 K). On November 25th, about 10.45, I visited this factory—I found the front door open, went into the passage, and found the office door open—there were jemmy marks on the passage door—the office door was locked, and had not been forced—I found no jemmy or anything corresponding with the marks.
DANIEL TYSMAN (Police-sergeant, KR). I am in charge of the Forest Gate Station—before the charge was taken the prisoner paid, "I was there, and I shall have to put up with it; the other fellow is a bricklayer, but I am not going to lead up to him"—then he said, "All right, De."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "All I say is, I was mad drunk at the time, and have either been led or fallen into a trap. It is the first time I have ever been in the hands of the police.
The Prisoner, in his defence, upon oath said that he hat an appointment to meet his foreman, Mr. Gilley; that he was mad drunk; and in passing the factory Moss asked what he meant by breaking into the house; that he denied it, and they struggled and fell, but he only protected himself; if he hurt him he was sorry for it; and that the other man was the burglar.
that of a drunken man, and he is very violent when drunk—he was obliged to leave hi* lodging at Plaistow on account of his knocking his landlady about.
HENRY MOORE (Re-examined). There were no signs of a straggle in the passage—Moss's trousers were torn when I came up—he complained of personal injury, and was attended by a surgeon for injury to his private parts—the floor was covered with linoleum.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Justice Bruce.
MR. BODKIN Prosecuted.
FRANCES WILLIAMS . I am a widow, of 14, Upper Garden Street, West-minster—Emma Mates was my mother—she was 71 years of age last March—her sight and hearing were very good—she had been charing up to 1 o'clock on the day of the accident—she could walk well—she was a most upright woman—on November 17th she was in her usual health.
GEORGE ENDING (43 L) produced and explained a plan which he had made to scale of Vauxhall Cross, and added: The traffic, which is very busy, is regulated by the L and W Divisions of Police—the locality is well lighted—the traffic is busiest on Friday nights owing to the market vans,—on Saturdays it is lighter, being mostly that of trams and omnibuses, which are timed.
ALFRED PRICE . I live at 92, E Block, Waterloo Bridge—I am a tramcar driver from Vauxhall to Camberwell Green, which goes along Upper Kennington Lane—I was on duty on Saturday evening, November 13th, about 6.10 p.m.—my car was waiting on the single line of rails in Upper Kennington Lane, ready to start—the usual gas lamps were alight—the place is medium lighted; you can see people crossing the street—there are lights at the refuge and under the railway arch—the railway runs over the road—there is a lamp each side, and in the centre of the arch on the wall—two omnibuses were on the W Division or Vauxhall Station side, and one on the L Division side—the nearer of the two 'buses' was 15 to 20 ft. from Vauxhall Bridge end of my car—they were nearer the refuge—I saw an old lady cross the Upper Kennington Lane from L Division or north side—she came from the end of the one 'bus furthest from me—she walked steadily and firmly—she was looking in front towards Vauxhall Station—I. was looking towards the old bridge—I saw two vans coming out of the Wandsworth Road at a rather fast pace, 9 or 10 miles an hour—the horses were going at a good trot—I first saw them near the obelisk or refuge in the centre of the road—they came round the station side, on the off side of the refuge, passing the refuge on the left—the old lady was 15 feet from the kerb on the station side—she would have passed in front of the two buses—I shouted to the vans to stop—I could see both vans, and the driver of the front, van, the prisoner—the other van was close behind—as he came out of the Wandsworth Road, and under the railway arch, I could
see the prisoner's face—he was sitting on the front of the van; there was no dickey attached—his back wan against some boxes—he did not stop; he might not have heard—a train was passing over, and there was traffic under the arch—I saw the near side shaft of the van strike the old lady, 'and both wheels go over her, and also the two near side wheels of the following van—it is not true that she fell under the horses—I could distinctly see the near wide shaft catch her—after passing over her the front van still kept going on—I shouted to the prisoner that he had run over an old lady, and to stop, but he took no notice—I shouted at the top of my voice, and I was close to him—he went on 50 to 55 yards—I shouted to a policeman, and pointed out the van—another gentleman went after him, and, I think, stopped him—the second van, after running over the old lady, pulled up in 10 yards behind the second omnibus—there was no obstruction on the L Division side, only one 'bus standing there—there was no necessity for his going on the W Division side—the night was clear.
By the COURT. Ninety-nine out of 100 going that way pass that side the refuge—the archway is long, but there is a light at each end on each side in the centre on a white brick wall.
FRANK HOWE . I am an omnibus driver, of 71, Coburg Row, West-minster—I was driving on November 18th an omnibus from Peckham to Victoria along Upper Kennington Lane—our 'buses stop at Vauxhall Station to pick up passengers—we travel down Harleyford Road under the Vauxhall Arch and along the Albert) Embankment and over the new temporary bridge—my 'bus was heading towards the old Vauxhall Bridge—I pulled up near Vauxhall Station, close to the kerb—another 'bus was behind me for Earl's Court, a green one—I saw two vans coming from Wandsworth Road, one behind the other, about 50 yards from me, rather nearer than the refuge, which they passed on the Vauxhall Station side—they were driving from six to seven miles an hour—I could see the driver, but not distinguish his face—the place is rather dark—I was about three yards from the lamp-post outside Vauxhall Station—my horses' heads were near flush with the archway—I saw an old lady three parts of the wsy across the. road from the L. side to the W. side—the prisoner's near side shaft caught the old lady, and knocked her down nearly opposite my horses' heads—I was on my seat—the leading van came to within a yard and a half of my horses—I pulled their heads towards the kerb to give the driver more room, so that my horses' heads faced the pavement—there was nothing to prevent the prisoner from driving on the proper side of the road, there was only one 'bus there—there was room to pass, because the tramcar does not pass the limit of the 'buses—I heard shouting.
THOMAS CREWS (239 W). I was on duty about 6 p.m. on November 18th outside Vauxhall Station—the place is fairly well lighted—I heard shouting—I saw an old lady lying in the road, and two vans moving—the second pulled up on the W. side in about 10 yards from the accident, the first van still proceeding—I ran after ic—the driver stopped in about 55 yards from the accident—I told the driver I wanted his name and address, as he had knocked an old woman down and run over her—he gave one his name and address—he said, "She fell in front of my horse; I could not help running over her; I was going at a jogtrot at about 4 1/2
miles an hour"—there is not much traffic on Saturdays at this hour—there was nothing to prevent the driver going on the proper side of the road.
By the COURT. I assist to regulate the traffic and see to cab ranks between Bond Street and Vauxhall, and the setting down of passengers in front of Vauxhall Station—the biggest part of the traffic goes to the south side of the refuge from Wandsworth Road.
HERBERT JAMES PHILLIPS . I am house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—on November 18th, about 7 p.m., Mrs. Mates was brought in, suffering from collapse—she had lost a good deal of blood—she had a compound fracture of the thigh and a compound fracture of the jaw—T subsequently set the thigh—on November 26th she died—I made a post-mortem examination—I found the lungs healthy, apart from the fluid they were coated with from lying in bed—the heart was diseased, also the kidneys and liver—the cause of death was fluid in the lungs, which was caused by lying in bed in consequence of the injury she had received—her death was accelerated by those injuries.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath stated that he saw the deceased when it was too late to pull up, and could not avoid running over her in the state of the traffic. He was stated to bear a good character.— GUILTY .— To enter into Recognizances.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
87. FREDERICK COX (34) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for 14s. 6d., with intent to defraud; also receipts for 78., 6s., 9s. lid., and £1 11s., with intent to defraud.— Three Months in the Second Division. And
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 15TH, 1900.