CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 2ND, 1900.
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, April 2nd, 1900, and following days,
Before the Right Hon. Sir ALFRED JAMES NEWTON , Bart., Alderman, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Hon. Sir WILLIAM GRANTHAM, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON, Bart., M.P., LL.D., F.S.A., and Sir DAVID EVANS , K.C.M.G., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt.;JOHN POUND, Esq.;WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN, Esq.;JOHN CHARLES BELL, Esq., and GEORGE WYATT TRUSCOTT, Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and FREDERICK ALBERT BOSANQUET, 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.
SIR WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR, KNT.
W. H. C. MAHON, Esq.
J. D. LANGTON, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
NEWTON, MAYOR. SIXTH SESSION
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more titan 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, April 2nd, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
247. CHARLES FLINTON (33) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch, from the person of John Carwardine Alexander, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on July 3rd, 1893. Two other convictions were proved against him.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour .
248. FREDERICK GEORGE ALPIN (39) , to stealing, while employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing 12 halfpenny stamps and 5s., the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster General.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months in the second division.
249. NELLIE AYLMER , to stealing a Post Office Savings Bank book, the property of Her Majesty's Post-master General; also to forging a receipt for the payment of money, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Discharged on her own Recognizances.
250. FREDERICK DEAN(31) , to stealing, while employed under the Post Office, a post letter containing two postal orders for 20s. each; also to stealing two post letters containing two orders for 5s. each; also to stealing a post letter containing two postal orders for 4s., the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster General.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
251. HENRY LILLY,(37) to forging and uttering an order for the payment of £8, with intent to defraud, having been convicted of a like offence on October 21st, 1895.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And
(252) HENRICH LOVER, (39) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Joseph Fincham, and stealing therein a tablecloth and other articles, and 17s. 3d., the property of George Alexander Roberts; also to being found by night with an imple ment of house-breaking in his possession, without lawful excuse, having been convicted of felony at this Court on December 10th, 1894, in the name of Henry Mann.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Three Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. FLEMMING Prosecuted.
halloaing out, "Police! Murder! Oh, pray do fetch a policeman!"—I went to Seven Sisters Road, but could not see one, and went back—I was standing with my back to the door, when all at once the front door flew open, and I received a hit on my head—I did not see who struck me, or what instrument was used—I became unconscious, and when I came to myself I was at Tottenham Hospital, where I stopped about nine or ten weeks—I went to Edmonton Workhouse on January 30th, and have been there ever since.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not go into the house and kick you on your leg, or try to throw you down.
ELLEN SHEPHERD . I live at 93, Avondale Road, Tottenham—the prisoner is my son-in-law—I was living with him and his wife last November—on this night my son-in-law opened the door, and the prosecutor walked in—I went out, and did not see any more—my son-in-law was breaking up the furniture with this hammer (Produced)—I did not see him strike anybody with it—he had had a little to drink, but he was not drunk.
Cross-examined. The prosecutor walked into the passage.
ANNIE SHEPHERD . I lived at St. Ann's Road, Tottenham—on November 22nd I was in the passage of 160, Tewkesbury Road, where the prisoner and his wife lived—I heard them quarrelling—the prosecutor walked inside the passage, and the prisoner hit him on the head with this hammer (Produced)—I ran upstairs—there were cries of "Police."
FRANCIS PROBIS . I am resident Medical Officer at Tottenham Hospital—the prosecutor was admitted on November 23rd—he had a depressed fracture on the left side of his skull—he underwent an operation—he was an in-patient till January 10th—he was in a serious condition for some time—he was then discharged, but was to attend as an out-patient—it was then found that he could not support himself, and he was recommended as an in-patient to the infirmary—the injury might be caused by this hammer—considerable force must have been used.
WILLIAM BERNARD BENGERFIELD . I am Medical Officer at the Edmonton Workhouse—I attended the prosecutor in January—he was admitted on January 30th, suffering from a suppurating wound on the scalp—there wan also a wound immediate'y behind the first which had nearly healed—there was a depression of the skull, and apparently a piece of bone was gone—his condition has decidedly improved lately
WILLIAM BROOKER (61N). I was called to Tewkesbury Road on November 22nd—I saw a man lying in the passage, insensible, about 12 ft. from the door, bleeding from wounds on his head—I had a hammer handed to me by the prisoner's wife, who made a statement to me—I sent for a doctor, who dressed the wounds, and the man was taken to the hospital—I made inquiries about the prisoner, but could not find him till he gave himself up three weeks ago.
By the COURT. The warrant has been out for the prisoner since November, but he could not be found.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that the prosecutor came into his house and kicked him on the leg and tried to throw him down; that in the struggle, no doubt, he hit him with the hammer in self-defence, but not with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.
JANE TURNER . I am the prisoner's wife—he had been smashing up the furniture with his hammer—the prosecutor came in and kicked him, and he hit him in self-defence—I did not hear any cries of "Murder"—my husband never threatened to strike me.
Cross-examined. My husband had had a drop to drink—we were always jangling together—I have got a very bad temper—if the prosecutor had not come into the place this would not have happened.
ALFRED SHEPHERD . I was a lodger in the house on this night—the prisoner and his wife were having a row—the prosecutor came in at the front door—I came downstairs and saw him lying in the passage—I heard cries of "Police!" and "Murder!" after the row, not before—there was no cause for the prosecutor to come in—if there was any cause to interfere it was my place, and I did not think it necessary.
Cross-examined. I do not know how long the quarrel had been going on.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding while under the influence of liquor. Three other convictions were proved against him, one for assaulting his wife.—Twelve Months' Hard Labour .
MR. MACKAY Prosecuted.
FRANCIS HOGAN . I am a cook—on Saturday, March 3rd, about 7 p.m. I was in Horseferry Road, Pimlico, going home—I saw two men standing at a corner, it was nearly dark, and a—I passed them they rushed on me, caught me by the shoulders, forced me down a dark street for about 25 yards, put me on my back, held me down, and rifled my pockets—I kept quiet while they were there, but when they left I halloaed out for help—I had about 12s. 6d. on me—I had one four-shilling piece, one half-crown, and I think two florins, the rest in small silver and copper—there was no violence used, only a good shaking—I have no doubt about the men—I picked out Slater at once—I was rather doubtful about Lynch, but when he was put into the dock I saw his side face as I saw it on the night of the robbery, and I recognised him.
Cross-examined by Lynch. Each of you held me down with one hand and rifled my pockets with the other—I do not know the name of the street where I was robbed.
ALFRED CALLARD . I am a stationer—on March 3rd I was visiting some friends in Medway Street, and left about 6.50—I was going down Monk Street, and saw a scuffle in the road—I saw three men, and a blow was struck, which knocked the prosecutor into the middle of the road—I turned back to Medway Street, and then I saw two men in the road—I followed them and saw them go into a public-house—I saw a police-man, and told him what I had seen—we went and looked into the public-house, but it was very full, and I could not see the men—we went to Monk Street—the constable picked the prosecutor up, and took him to
the station—then we went to the public-house, and I picked out Lynch, but I cannot swear to the other.
Cross-examined by Lynch. There were two men and the prosecutor—the inspector at the station did not ask me if I was sure of you.
HERBERT GUNTER . I am employed by the Incandescent Light Company, and on March 3rd Callard spoke to me—I went to fetch a policeman—I saw the two prisoners go into the Corner-pin public-house—I saw them arrested—I saw them dragging the prosecutor down Monk Street—I am sure of Lynch, but not quite sure of Slater.
Cross-examined by Lynch. Nobody else was with the prosecutor, only you two—there was another man on the other side of the street—I saw the prosecutor knocked down—I saw you go into the public-house, and I waited outside.
ERNEST GATE . I am employed in the Westminster Vestry, and on March 3rd I was in Medway Street about 7 p.m.—I saw the prisoners knock the prosecutor down, and then they went up the road by themselves—a man came up, and asked me to stop by the old gentleman—assistance came, and he was taken to the station, and we went to the public-house to see whether we could recognise the men, and I saw the prisoners inside—I am quite sure of them.
Cross-examined by Lynch. Both of you had hold of the prosecutor—after you knocked him down you went up Monk Street—I saw you bend over him—I do not know what you did.
JOHN ROCKINGHAM (44 AR). On March 3rd I went to the Cornerpin public-house, and then to Monk Street, where I saw the prosecutor, who made a complaint to me—I then returned to the public-house, where Callard identified Lynch, and Gate pointed out Slater—I called Police-constable 216 A to take Slater into custody, and I took Lynch—Slater said, "What do you want us for?"—I said, "You are wanted at the station; you are suspected of robbing a man in Monk Street"—Slater said, "All right, it is only for identification"—at the station they were placed among eight other men, and the prosecutor picked out Slater and another man, not Lynch—when the two prisoners were placed in the dock the prosecutor at once identified the other man—Slater said. "Oh, 12s. 6d. was it?"—Lynch said, "All right, governor"—I searched them, but found no money on them of any kind.
Cross-examined by Lynch. I was outside the public-house when the witness looked in—Gate was placed among the men for identification, and was picked out by the prosecutor.
Cross-examined by Lynch. The identification took place about 7.
JOHN WATTS (Detective Officer). On March 4th I saw Slater at Rochester Row Station—I said, "I believe you have got some money on you; you are charged with stealing money; I shall take it away from you"—he handed me a 4s. piece and 1 1/2d.—I made a further search, but failed to find anything on him—he had already been searched—I do not know where he got the money from.
Lynch, in his defence, stated that he was in the public-house about 7 o'clock,
when the constable came in and said he wanted him for a case of identification, and the prosecutor picked him out.
Slater, in his defence, said that he was in the public-house when the constables came in and took him to the station.
GUILTY .—Lynch then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on March 27th, 1899, and eight other convictions were proved against him. Three convictions were proved against Slater. LYNCH— Five Years' Penal Servitude . SLATER†*— Twelve Months' Hard Labour .
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted.
GEORGE BERRY (Detective Sergeant). I was at Liverpool Street Station on the Great Eastern Railway on Saturday, March 17th, about 8.30 p.m.—I saw the prisoner and the prosecutrix in a second class waiting room—the prisoner said to the prosecutrix, "Now, old darling, come along"—Mrs. Heath was drunk; the prisoner was quite sober—Inspector Tyrell was there—he said to the prisoner, pointing to the prosecutrix, "Do you know this lady?"—the prisoner said, "No, I do not; but here is her ticket, which she gave to me"—it was a ticket to Leytonstone—the inspector said, "But you have been drinking"—the prisoner said, "Yes, we have been to the Railway Tavern, in Liverpool Street"—she was then asked if she knew where the prosecutrix lived—she replied, "No, I do not know, as she has removed since the last time I saw her"—then the inspector asked her if she knew the prosecutrix's name—she said, "No, I do not"—the prosecutrix was taken away by two officers—I then saw this umbrella (Produced)—I said, "Whose umbrella is this?"—the prisoner replied, "That is mine, thank you"—I then handed it to her—she left, and I followed her to the west side suburban bridge—she had to go through the main line booking office and up a staircase on to the bridge—while on the bridge she placed her hand in her dress pocket and took out a purse—she shook the contents into her right hand, and placed them in her pocket—she then went into a passage and threw away these two pieces of a purse (Produced)—I followed her back on to No. 1 platform—I saw her take this watch from her pocket (Produced)—I took hold of her and said, "I am a police-officer; give me that watch; it is not yours"—she replied, "You d—d scamp! I shall not; it is mine"—I had a struggle with her—I took her off the platform into the station, where I handed her over to a City policeman—at the Police-station, in the dock, she denied all knowledge of the purse, but while she was standing in the dock she dropped this other piece of the same purse that she took from her pocket—a silver medal was found in her pocket—she said the watch was given her to mind by the prosecutrix—a purse containing £1 15s. 11 1/4d. was found on her, and loose in her pocket was found 6s. 6 1/4d.
ELLA HEATH . I am the wife of Joseph Heath, of 4, Woodruff Road, Leytonstone—on March 17th I met the prisoner at Liverpool Street Station—I had never seen her before—I was not well, and I believe I had a bottle of lemonade with her—I met her about 8.30 p.m.—I had not had too much to drink—I had taken two morphia tablets, and I am only in
the habit of taking one—this is a piece of my purse—it was in a whole condition when I had it—it had about 4s. or 5s. in it—this is my umbrella—I did not give my watch to the prisoner to mind.
Evidence for the Defence.
CHARLES CORBETT . I am the prisoner's husband and an engineer's labourer, and earn 24s. a week—we have 13 children—the prisoner has always been a good wife to me—I had had an accident, and sne came up to London to fetch my money—we live at Leytonstone—I was laid up for a fortnight, during which time I got £1 a week.
The Prisoner, in her defence, said that she met the prosecutrix, who was very drunk, and who asked her to see her home; that while crossing the road she fell down, and put her watch on the ground, and that the bystanders picked it up and gave it to the prisoner.
GUILTY Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— . One Day's Imprisonment .
NEW COURT.—Monday, April 2nd, 1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
256. WILLIAM SELVIDGE(68) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously uttering counterfeit coin, having been convicted of a like offence on May 25th, 1895; also to having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to after it. A number of other convictions were proved against him.—Five Years' Penal Servitude on each indictment, to run concurrently. And
MR. PASTRIDGE Prosecuted.
AMY ASHER . My husband keeps the Royal Hotel, South Hackney—on October 9th I served the prisoner with drink, price 1d.—he gave me 1s.—I broke it in front of him, and told him it was bad—I called my husband, and the prisoner was given in charge.
SAMUEL ASHER . I am the husband of the last witness—she called my attention on October 9th. in the prisoner's presence, to a bad shilling, and I believe she said, "I know this man; he has passed a shilling and then tendered a good half-crown"—I sent for a constable.
GEORGE ARTHUR BALDWIN . I was called to this public-house and saw the prisoner—Mrs. Asher said that he had tried to pass this coin, and when she said that it was not good he asked for it back and offered her a half-crown—the prisoner said that he did not utter it knowingly—I took him to the station, where he gave his name as John Day—I asked him his address—he said, "I, King's Road, Walthamstow"—I went there, and nothing was known of him—he also at the same time gave the address, 1, Ann's Villas, Walthamstow—I did not find him there—he was taken before a Magistrate, remanded for seven days, and there being no other case against him, he was discharged.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I went there and inquired for you, but found no trace of you at either address.
JAMES ELLISTON . I am manager to a licensed victualler at 1, Hackney Road—on February 19th the prisoner came in in the afternoon for a glass of ale and a pennyworth of tobacco—I served him; he gave me a bad shilling—I tested it in his presence and said, "You have given me a bad shilling"—he offered me a half-crown, which I accepted, but did not give him the change, as I wanted I to detain him till the police arrived.
ALFRED DAVEY (388G). I was called to the Horns about 1.20, and saw the prisoner and Mr. Elliston, who said that the prisoner had tendered a bad shilling and then a good half-crown—he made no answer, but at the station he said that a pal had given it to him—he had no money on him but the change for the half-crown—he gave the name of Thomas—I asked his address—he said, "You are trying to make a mole of me, and I shan't tell you."
The Prisoner's statement before, the Magistrate: "I had it given me by a friend on the Saturday previous."
Prisoner's Defence: I did not know it was bad; I was remanded for a week, and discharged, and five weeks afterwards I was charged again. I have been in the hospital six weeks.
GUILTY .— Four Months' Hard Labour .
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
FANNY PARRY . I live at 102, Liverpool Road, Islington—John Lacey, whom I saw at the Police-court (See p.314), occupied the ground floor back room for some time—there is a garden at the back of the house to which you go down three steps—that is close to the back parlour door—the prisoner was an every-day visitor to Lacey, and sometimes stayed with him a long while—plenty of coal went into Lacey's room
Cross-examined. I took a light to the cellar, and saw that constable there (Millard)—the constables were all three in the room—one stood in the passage, so that he could see into the garden—when I went into the garden with Woollard one constable was in the room—Sergeant Smith and the other came out into the garden; there were then two in the garden.
Re-examined. Two officers went into the garden, and found these things, while one remained in the room.
ROBERT ARTHUR STRANGE . I am an agent, of 78, St. Peter's Street—I know the prisoner as Mr. Kelly—I let him a room at 15, Grosvenor Street in December—I do not live on the premises—he had the exclusive use of them—he paid his rent.
JAMES SMITH (Dectective, N). I have kept observation on the prisoner and Lacey for some time—on March 5th, about 7.30, Woollard spoke to me, and I went with him and Lane to 102, Liverpool Road—the door was opened by a woman, and we went into the passage—Woollard went first—I pushed the front door to, and the prisoner came towards us—Woollard asked him his name—he replied, "Croney"—I said, "You will
have to go into the room with us"—he made no reply—I took him into the room—I then saw Lacey come from the back garden up the three steps—Woollard was in front of mo all this time—I asked Lacey if he was the occupier of the room—he said, "Yes"—we all went in—two young women were there—I shut the door and said that we were police-officers, and I should search the room, and if they had anything they had better show it—Croney said, "There is nothing here; Douglas's wife told me that I was being watched, and I cleared them out; you have stopped me now; I was going to work to-night"—Douglas has had seven years—Lane and Woollard went out to search the back yard—I remained in the room, and in a few minutes they came back with three bottles and 54 half-crowns, which have been submitted to the Mint authorities—the coins were opened in front of the prisoner and Lacey, by the officers—they made no reply—I took the prisoner to the station—he said on the way there, "I should like to know who put us away. I might have got away in the scramble"—when the charge was read over at the station he said, "Where was I arrested?"—he gave his address as 15, Bridgwater Street, Somers Town, and afterwards he asked me to go to 15, Grosvenor Street, and tell Mrs. Kenny that he was locked up—everything was said in Lacey's presence, they were both in the dock together—I went to 102, Liverpool Road, and made further search, and found this saucepan, just as it had been boiled, and on the floor a quantity of pieces of metal (Produced), two pieces of copper wire, a file, a spoon, and this cyanide of potassium—two bottles of plating solution were brought in from the yard—this is one of them—I held the bed up and Lacey found these six counterfeit coins on top of the spring mattress, and some pieces of metal were picked up from the floor—I went to the prisoner's room at 15, Grosvenor Street, first floor front, and took possession of a saucepan, and picked up from the floor seven pieces of metal similar to the others—I told the prisoner he would be charged with everything—he made no answer.
Cross-examined. At 102, Liverpool Road I saw a woman who was living with Lacey—one saucepan was found at one place and one at the other—this is the hearthrug, which is covered with pieces of metal.
ARTHUR WOOLLARD (149N). I was in plain clothes on March 5th in front of Lane and Smith—I saw Lacey leave the back parlour behind Croney—he had a bottle under each arm, one green and one blue, and something else—he rushed into the back garden and came back into the house through the passage—we stopped him, and he said, "What is the matter?"—I ok him into the back room where Croney was—I went into the back garden with Lane, and the 1andlady came behind with, a light—I saw Lane search the garden and find behind a fence two bottles and a parcel containing 44 half-crowns—I took Lacey to the station, and then went to 102, Liverpool Road and found all these things, and took them to Dr. Rose—there were 60 coins—this with the blue handle is the saucepan found a Grosvenor Street, and the black one was at Liverpool Road.
Cross-examined. The passage is about 20 feet long, and I saw you about three yards from the back parlour door—there is a very small curtain—the parlour door is on the left, going in; there is a handle to it—about 20 minutes elapsed between going from one house to the other—I
followed you into the house, and saw you in the passage about a minute and a half afterwards.
WALTER LANE (139N). I was with Woollard on March 9th—I saw the prisoner and Lacey about 7.20—they walked together along St. Peter's Street—Lacey I anded a small brown paper parcel to Croney—I waited till the sergeant came, and went with him to 102, Liverpool Road—I was in plain clothes—the sergeant was outside—my duty was to remain in the room, but before that I went with Woollard into the garden and found 10 counterfeit half-crowns wrapped up in this parcel—I was present when Smith made the search, and saw the six half-crowns found under the bed—I went to Grosvenor Street and saw a saucepan found; this one with the enamel on it—I picked up some bits of metal from the carpet.
Cross-examined. I went to 102, Liverpool Road, about 7.45—I saw you come out of the back parlour.
Re-examined. The whole of this lot of pieces were found at Liverpool Road and Grosvenor Street.
DR. ROSE. I am M.D. of Science at the London University and Surgeon to H.M. Mint—I have seen these pieces of metal, this spoon, file, copper wire, saucepans, cyanide of potassium, and plating solution—I tried the solution; metal can be coated with silver with it, and I plated some copper with it, and also some of these pieces of metal, which are tin and antimony—I found pieces of metal in both these saucepans, which are similar to the coins—I have analysed it—the metal is all similar, and the same as the coins—all these things are the paraphernalia of a coiner.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to H.M. Mint—these 60 coins are counterfeit, but have not been plated yet—this is the get—I can show you one with part of the get on it—some of the six coins found under the bed are from this same mould as those found in the garden—I never saw a mould from which more than 50 coins were made, but a good maker can make more from one mould than a bad one.
The prisoner called
Cross-examined. This was my room—the prisoner used sometimes to come there twice a day—the parcel I passed in the street was something to eat which I had bought—I did not hear him say, "I should like to know who put us away"—I did not hear the prisoner say, "There is nothing here; it has been taken away; if you had gone to Grosvenor, Street last night you might have found something"—I did not hear anyone say at the station, "You were a bit too late; the other man took the moulds away yesterday"—he came because he used to put money on for me—I did burn a lot of coal every day.
Prisoners Defence: I am charged with being in possession; I am not the occupier of the room; I was only coming out of the passage; even supposing I had business there, what should I do but knock at the street-door and obtain admission, and come out again?
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction on March 5th, 1894, of feloniously possessing counterfeit coin; other convictions were proved
against him, and he still had a year and 17 days to complete his former sentence of seven years' penal servitude.—Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 3rd, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. OLIVER Prosecuted.
Upon the evidence of DR. JAMES SCOTT, Surgeon to the Gaol, the JURY found the prisoner was unable to plead owing to his menial condition.— To be de ained during Her Majesty's pleasure.
MESSRS. AVORY and MUIR Prosecuted, and MR. SYMONDS Defended.
RUTH BROWN . I am the wife of Maynard Brown, of 32, Great Ormond Street—on August 28th I went to the London and Westminster Bank, Holborn Branch, between 10 and 11 a.m., where I received £2,060, which was on deposit there—I received one £200 note and three £100 notes—I had all the notes, amounting to £2,000, in my hand, folded up in four, between my purse and a paper bag in which I had the £60 in gold—on my way home I purchased a melon in Theobald's Road—when I got home I missed the notes—I cannot say when I last had them in my hand, because I did not move my hand at all the whole way—I paid for the melon out of my purse—I cannot say if the notes were there then—I at once gave information to the police, and went back to the bank—when I saw the prisoner at Bow Street it occurred to me that I recognised him as a man who, as I was going along Southampton Row, made a glare at me—he was coming in the opposite direction—that was the same morning as I lost the notes—I believe he is the same man; that was before purchased the melon and after I got the notes.
Cross-examined. I was not dressed as I am now—I do not remember passing through any crowd, and I did not go into any shop—I stood outside when I bought the melon—it is possible that the notes may have dropped down then, but I do not think I loosened my grasp of them then—it did occur to me that I had seen the prisoner before the inquiry begin, but I could not give a description of him.
Re-examined. The woman who served me at the shop was close enough to me to see if anything happened there.
MAYNARD BROWN . I am an artist, of Great Ormond Street—the last witness is my wife—on her reporting to me the loss of these notes I gave notice to the police, and caused a reward to be printed and posted—I began at a reward of £50, and went up to £500—they were posted in different parts of London—the notice says that information was to be given to me at 32, Great Ormond Street, and that the notes had been
stopped—I did not hear anything of them till December 2nd, when the prisoner called on me—he said, "Do you want those notes back?"—I said, "Yes, of course I want the notes back; it is an absurd question to ask"—he said, "Then I can get them for you, providing you are willing to pay me half"—he said he was a private inquiry agent, and his name was Burns—I said the terms were exorbitant—he then gave me a typewritten document—I believe this is it (Produced)—he said I should find the terms on which the notes would be returned to me in it—the first note for £500 was to be returned in exchange for £300, the second £500 for £250, the third £500 for £200, and the £200 note for £100, all in gold—I agreed to meet the prisoner, with my brother-in-law, at the Midland Hotel on the following Monday—I said I should like some time to consider, and he said if I did not agree to it he would get rid of them, or his friends would pass them in the ordinary course—on December 4th I went into the smoking-room of the hotel with my brother-in-law—I saw two men there, who left soon after, we arrived, and then the prisoner came in—he suggested that we should go into the bar, but I preferred to stay in the smoking-room—he asked if I had thought the matter over, and was agreeable to accept his terms—we said we thought the terms extortionate, and offered him one-third—he said he would see his friends and see if he could get them to agree—I understood him to say he had about two friends, but I am not sure—he said one of them was a very large bookmaker, and well-known in the sporting world—he said they had all the notes with the exception of one £100 note, which they had tried to get hold of, but could not do so—he said two had already been passed, and that they had £1,700—I knew two £100 noted had been passed, I had been notified by the hank—I think he knew what the original amount lost was—it was ultimately arranged that he should call at my studio the next night—my brother-in-law and I waited two hours for him, but he did not come, and I walked with my brother-in-law on his way home—at Gower Street Station I was touched on the shoulder by the prisoner, who said he was sorry, but he had been detained—we had previously had a telegram from him—we went into a public-house, and I arranged that he should come to my studio the next morning—he came about 9.30 a.m.—the difficulty was that we were to meet the prisoner and give him cash in exchange for the notes, but I was afraid the notes might be bogus—I ascertained from the bank managers that they would not guarantee that the notes were good ones, so the prisoner said he would have them photographed, but that was not much good; then the prisoner said he would go to the bank with me, and have them cashed—I said I would go to the London and Westminster Bank, and be identified, but he said his friends thought it was a put-up job, and it fell through—he got very nervous towards the end, and said he thought we should not hear of him again, but that we might be approached by somebody else—I went to the bank to get a letter of identification, which the manager refused—as we were coming out of the bank the prisoner said, "That man that I was speaking to is one of the men that has one of the notes in his possession"—the same day I met the prisoner again at Liver-pool Street Station, and he said then it was impossible for me to approach the police, as I was watched, and there was a policeman in the swim with
him—he went away, and I did not see him till March 8th, when I went to Adelaide Road, Regent's Park, about 10 a.m., and about 11.30 I saw the prisoner in a turning out of Adelaide Road—I went up to him and said, "Hulloa! Burns"—he said, "I cannot stop, I cannot stop," in a very hurried way, and ran away—I ran after him and caught him, and the police were soon by my side—he said, "What harm have I done you?"—the police took him away.
By the COURT. I have not got my notes back.
Cross-examined. I believe I said at the Police-court that the prisoner had said that the police were in the swim—I was prepared to pay the reward, because my wife was in a delicate state of health, and I wanted the matter done with—I should have prosecuted if my wife had been strong—I agreed to pay the prisoner half the amount—it was a question of confidence—I did not want to trust him, and he did not want to trust me—I wanted the letter of identification from the London and West-minster Bank, so that I could go to the Bank of England and change the notes—I wrote to the prisoner at Kelly's Library, Shaftesbury Avenue—I have not got a copy of the letter.
Re-examined. I did not have an answer to it—I proposed that he should come to my studio or to my brother-in-law's office, instead of going to the bank, but he refused to do so.
LAWRENCE USTICK JEANS . I am a clerk in the London and West-minster Bank, 214, High Holborn—on August 28th £2,060 was paid to Mrs. Brown, £2,000 in notes and £60 in gold—I produce an abstract of the numbers of the notes—this is one of them, No. 05970, dated January 29th, 1898.
Cross-examined. I do not have notes passing through my hands very often—I am not at the counter.
GEORGE LEO GAUTSCHI . I am chief clerk in the Foreign Exchange department of the Credit Lyonnais, 40, Lombard Street—on December 22nd the prisoner came and asked for 13,000 francs in French notes—I had not that amount then, but said I might have it if he called again next day—I said I had 9,000, and asked him if he would take the balance by a cheque on Paris—he said "Yes," and filled up this form (Produced), giving the name of Samuel Cohen, and the name of the person in whose favour he wanted the cheque drawn was George Gordon—he had to pay altogether £513 4s. 6d.—I sent the notes and the cheque to the cashier—I produce an extract of the notes paid in by the prisoner—this is one of them (Produced)—I gave him this cheque (Produced) on our Paris office—the prisoner filled this exhibit in (No. 4)—the endorsement on the back of this cheque is a little different—I cannot say if it is the same writing—the prisoner came in at 1.50—in the course of the day the £500 note was sent to the Bank of England, and about 5 o'clock we received some information regarding it—we communicated with oar Paris office that same evening by letter, which would be delivered next morning—on March 8th I went to Bow Street Police-station, where I identified the prisoner.
Cross-examined. The prisoner was a perfect stranger to me—it was rather a busy time of day with us—I did not see anybody with the prisoner—there may have been someone with him—I did not hand the
cheque to him at all; the cashier did it—I never saw the note in his possession.
CHARLES PECHARD (Interpreted). I am Commissioner of Police in Paris—on December 23rd I received a communication from the Credit Lyonnais and sent an inspector there—about 11.30 that morning the prisoner was brought in by the inspector, who said, in the prisoner's presence, and which was interpreted, that he had accused the prisoner in the Credit Lyonnais, and he had tried to escape—this draft was produced to me—I asked the prisoner where he had obtained it—he said it had been given to him by somebody named Cohen, with whom he was connected in business, but did not know his address, that Cohen sold jewellery and betted on races—I asked him his name and address—he said "George Gordon," and gave the inspector this visiting card—it has no address on it—he said he lived at 49, Adelaide Road, and was a betting agent—he may have said that he dealt in patents—he said he was in Paris to transact some business for the purchase of a cycle patent, that Cohen had been engaged with him in transactions about jewellery and racing, and was in his debt, and had sent him the cheque to Paris at a time that he knew he would be there—I took down the interrogations in writing and asked the prisoner to sign them—he refused—then the interpreter signed it as correct—I told the prisoner I was in communication with the London police—he only protested against his arrest, and said he could not understand why it was so—he kept on asking to be taken to the British Consul—he was searched—a ticket for luggage left at the station was found on him, and a travelling ticket by Cook's agency from London to Paris, second-class return, dated December 22—I found £55 on him in Bank of England notes—the next day I sent the prisoner with an inspector to the Central Police Depot, who returned without him—he made a report to me—the prisoner's bag was left behind, and it is here now—I kept the bank-notes and other things I found on him—nobody ever applied for them.
Cross-examined. I told the prisoner he would see the British Consul later on, no day was fixed.
CHARLES JAMES WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Bank Note department of the Bank of England—I produce this £500 note which was presented by the Credit Lyonnais on December 22nd—I also produce the note presented on October 4th for £100, No. 61250—it was paid in by the London and Westminster Bank—I produce another note paid in by Glyn & Co. on November 30th for £100.
WILLIAM PUGSLEY (Police Inspector). In December last I was in communication with the Paris police—I had a report as to a man named Gordon who was in custody there on December 23rd, and in consequence I had observation kept on 49, Adelaide Road, Regent's Park—on March 8th, between 11 and 12 a.m., I saw the prisoner leave the house with a woman and a child—I followed them—he looked round several times, and hastened his pace—he turned into Bridge Road, leaving the woman and child behind—I lost sight of him for a moment or two, and when I came round the corner I found that Mr. Brown and the two officers, Ball and Proctor, had him—I said, "I am an Inspector of Police; you are Cohen, or Burns or Gordon, I am not sure which, but I am going to arrest you
for receiving £2,000 in Bank of England notes, stolen since August 28th last"—he replied, "I do not know what you mean"—I repeated what I had said, and he said, looking towards Mr. Brown, "I thought Mr. Brown was my friend; he asked me to do something, and I did the best I could for him"—a short time later on he said, "Who prefers this charge against me?"—I said, "Mr. Brown, the owner of the notes"—he said, "He is a nice friend; he knew where to find me"—at the station he gave the name of Frederick Thompson, 49, Adelaide Road, jeweller.
Cross-examined. I got the address from the officers at Paris—the name I had given me was George Gordon.
ALFRED BALL (Detective Sergeant). On March 8th I was keeping observation in Adelaide Road with Sergeant Proctor—I saw the prisoner, with a woman and child, walking towards Bridge Road—I saw Mr. Brown speak to the prisoner, and he immediately commenced to run away towards Chalk Farm Railway Station—Proctor and I went after him, accompanied by Mr. Brown—the prisoner stopped, and said, "What is the matter?"—Pugsley then came up, and told him he was going to take him into custody for receiving £2,000 in Bank of England notes—the prisoner said, "I do not know what you mean"—at the station he was identified by a gentleman from the Credit Lyonnais—the prisoner said, "I do not know how you can charge me with receiving, because I never had possession of the notes. I gave my name to Brown as Burns, and tried to got the notes back for him, but he knows as well as I do who really had them"—I searched 42, Adelaide Road on March 11 th, and found a brown leather kit bag—it has a French railway label on it.
JAMES PROCTOR (Detective Sergeant). I was present with Inspector Pugsley and Sergeant Ball when the prisoner was arrested, and on the same day I made a search at 49, Adelaide Road—I found a certificate of baptism of William Henry Carrington there, a file of letters and receipts in the same name, and a cheque-book on the Birkbeck Bank—among the receipts I found one for the rent (Exhibit 10) of 49, Adelaide Road, paid in the name of Carrington.
Cross-examined. I saw the counterfoils in the cheque-book—I did not see one marked "Invention"—I have got one marked "Water Company," and another, "Self."
GUILTY on the Second Count.—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
The Commissioner of Police, in Paris, was complimented by the Court for the services the French police had rendered.
MR. PASSMORE Prosecuted.
THOMAS ELLIS . I am a shop owner, of 38, Billiter Street—on March 12th I was at Ludgate Hill Station, about 11.45 p.m, standing at the entrance to the station, when the prisoner suddenly came up and snatched my watch chain—I ran after him and did not lose sight of him till he dropped into the arms of a policeman—I did not lose the watch, only the chain—I did not recover the chain; the police sent after it, but could not find it.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see what you did with the chain, you were 50 yards in front of me when the policeman caught you.
WILLIAM GOODSON (71, City). On March 12th I was in Water Lane, outside Ludgate Hill Station—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoner running—I stopped him—he said, "All right, Sir; you have got the wrong man this time"—I said, "What were you running for?"—he said, "I was running after two paper boys who owe me some money." I did not see anybody pass—the prosecutor came up—he was very much out of breath—he said, "This man has stolen my watch-chain and a £2 piece"—I said, "Will you give him into custody?"—he said, "Yes; certainly"—I took the prisoner to the station, and searched him—I found 2d. and a small book on him—he gave an address which I afterwards found out to be false one
The Prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was running after some boys who owed him some money when the policeman stopped him and the prosecutor came up and gave him in charge, and that he did not know any more about it than the dead. GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on June 9th, 1897, and six other convictions were proved against him.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PASSMORE Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HENRY BUTT . I am a labourer—I met the prisoner in the City on March 10th at 7 p.m.—he was a stranger, and he came and spoke to me and wanted a drink—after my conversation with him Constable Amos came up—I told him, and we went to an eating-house and saw the prisoner sitting down eating some sausages and potatoes—Amos went in and told him he should take him into custody—the prisoner said he was not going with him—Amos went to take hold of him, and the prisoner went for him with a knife and fork. and hit him under the right ear with the fork—Amos called for assistance outside—a waiter in the shop went to take the knife away from the prisoner, and the prisoner cut the waiter's fingers.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I followed you to the station—I was not very far away—I did not see any violence on the way.
JAMES AMOS (Detective Officer). On March 10th, about 7 p.m., I saw the prisoner talking to the last witness—after they had parted I went up to Butt, and from what be told me we followed the prisoner to an eating-house in Aldgate High Street—Butt pointed the prisoner out to me, and I went in and told him I was going to arrest him for obtaining money by a trick from the last witness—he said, "I am not going with you; you are no f—detective"—I said, "You had better come quietly, or I shall call in assistance"—he refused to come, and I called in Police-constable Herring—I caught hold of the prisoner, and he made at me with a knife in his right hand and a fork in his left—I caught hold of his right arm and closed with him, and endeavoured to get the knife away—a man employed in the shop came to my assistance, and got his left hand cut—the prisoner swung his left hand round and hit me under
the ear—there were four marks of the four prongs—he was very violent on the way to the station, and said, "I did not know you were a D, meaning a detective—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. I told you I was a police-officer—you had finished your food—we were struggling in the shop two or three minutes—I did not hear you say at the station that you did not know what you had done.
WILLIAM HENRY BUTT (Re-examined). The prisoner when he came up to me asked me the way to the docks, then he said he had got a ring to sell—I said I did not want it—he said, "I want a drink of beer"—I said I would give him 4d.—he put this ring (Produced) into my hand and said it was 18-carat gold and worth £50—I said I did not want it, and gave it back to him—I tried to get away from him—he said, "You would not see me go away hard up for a drink?"—I gave him 1s. to get away from him, and he put the ring into my hand; then Amos came up.
WILLIAM HERRING (748, City). About 7.30 p.m. on March 10th I was in Aldgate, and was called to an eating-house to assist Amos—I saw the prisoner with a knife in one hand and a fork in the other—he made two cuts at Amos with the knife—I seized his right hand with my left—he then lunged his left hand round and stuck the fork into Amos' ear—I saw the marks—we obtained further assistance and took the prisoner to the station—he was very violent on the way—he was quite sober.
Cross-examined. We were struggling about five or ten minutes in the cook shop—I did not try to throw you on your back in the shop—your arms were swinging about before you smck the fork into Amos' ear.
ALFRED AGAZZI . I am a waiter at 4, Aldgate Street—the prisoner was there on March 10th—I saw the constable come in—the prisoner got up with a knife and fork in his hand—I tried to take the knife out of his hand, and got my own hand cut—he struck the policeman under his right ear—I saw the blood.
Cross-examined. I was close to you when the policeman came in—you had finished your food—I saw the policeman seize you—I went to the station about 15 minutes after you.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that he had had a lot of drink that day, that he did not know that Amos was a police-officer, and that the scratch was done quite accidentally.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PASSMORE, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 3rd,1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.
in it—it was in a disgraceful state, and I was compelled to take it up and give it a good beating—that was after you had left.
ARTHUR WOOLLARD (149N). On March 5th, about 7.20 p.m., I was on duty in plain clothes with Lane, and saw the prisoner and Croney in St. Peter Street, Islington—I had received information—I saw the prisoner hand Croney a parcel—I followed them to 102, Liverpool Road with Constables Lane and Smith—I was about to knock at the door when it was opened by a woman who was living with Lacey as his wife—as I entered the passage Lacey ran out of the back parlour with a bottle under each arm, and two or three brown paper packets, into the back garden—I followed with Lane, and as we were going down the steps the prisoner came back—he was taken into the first floor back room, where I found Croney, who had been taken by Sergeant Smith—I went into the garden with Lane and the landlady—behind some boards I found two packets of base coins and these two bottles, which I believe were the same I saw when going down the steps—I took Lacey to the station—on the way he said, "I wish now that I had thrown those things somewhere else"—before he was charged at the station he said, "You are a bit too late; the other man took the moulds away to a house in Grosvenor Street, St. Peter Street, but I do not know the number"—to the formal charge by the inspector he made no answer.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Croney rushed out of the room in front of you when you rushed to the back—you said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "I am a police-officer; I must take you back to the parlour"—I said nothing before your statement—I did not say, "If I had been you I should have thrown them the other side, where I should not have searched."
WALTER LANE (139N). I saw Lacey go down the steps with a bottle under each arm—I subsequently searched the garden—I found 10 counterfeit half-crowns in this tin box—Woollard found two packets, each with 22 bad half-crowns.
JAMES SMITH (Detective Officer, N). I was with the other officers at 102, Liverpool Road—I took Croney to the ground floor back—I saw them go away and return with two bottles and 22 counterfeit coins—I afterwards went back and searched the room—I pulled the bed up—Lane took up a packet of six half-crowns in a little piece of paper, concealed under the middle of the bed—I also found the pieces of metal produced—we also found a spoon and a file, a piece of tallow, and a copper wire, and a saucepan with motal in it, some cyanide of potassium, another smaller bottle, and bottles containing plating solutions, which were handed to Dr. Rose, of H.M. Mint.
DR. THOMAS ROSE . I am a Doctor of Science at the London University—I have an appointment at H.M. Mint—Sergeant Smith handed me the articles produced, including these counterfeit coins—all of these things belong to the paraphernalia of a coiner.
Cross-examined. Cyanide of potassium is used in photography—the contents of the small bottle are not used for washing photographer's plates.
under the bed arc of two same mould as the general lot—in three the gets are broken off.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "My friend comes and sees me occasionally; I never knew about his being had up for counterfeit coin. He came to see me that night, because we were going to a music-hall together. I own to the possession of these coins. Croney is entirely innocent. I know nothing about the other things."
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. MACMAHON Prosecuted.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was informed about 7.40 a.m. that my premises had been opened—I observed inside and outside the window the marks of two hands, and another mark on the staircase window, and marks inside the bath-room of wet feet—the latch of the window had been broken about a week previously—things had been removed—I saw the inspector look at the place where the putty was cut, and compare it with a knife—there was similar paint on it—I said, "That is the paint on the inside of my bath-room door"; the door that leads into the house.
FRANCES KINNAIRD . I am in service at Dr. Hamerton's—on March 18th I locked up the house about 10.35 p.m.—I shut the bath-room window—the catch had been broken—the toilet-covers were in the usual cupboard in the bath-room—the next morning I went to the bath-room at 7.30—I found the toilet-covers in a heap on the floor, also the curtains of the glass door—this door had been shut and fastened with a little bolt outside—afterwards I saw wet mud marks on the table in front of the window.
Cross-examined. The children were looking at the opened bath-room door when I came down—the window-catch had been broken about a week—I was there when the police examined the place—I saw marks on the woodwork on the top and side of the window.
GEORGE RAWLINGS (253E). Early on March 19th I was on duty in Southampton Street, about 4 a.m.—I observed that some private marks had been removed from a hoarding round No. 1—I had heard a strange noise—I walked up the street and concealed myself in a doorway—I saw a man's head above the hoarding—the prisoner got over the hoarding from the inside, and alighted on the footway below—I followed him to the Strand—I stopped him between Exeter Hall and Burleigh Street—I asked him where he lived—he made a rambling statement, and refused to tell me—I told him I should take him into custody for being a suspected person upon enclosed premises—he said, "That is funny; I have just walked from the Tottenham Court Road"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—his coat was dusty with whitening—I found on him a pocket knife, a ripping knife, a chisel, a piece of wire, and a wooden wedge—I see now a piece is broken off the ripping knife, which is stiff, and would push back the window catch.
Cross-examined. When I saw you looking over the hoarding I was 15 yards off—I followed yon 100 yards up the Strand—I felt outside your pockets in the Strand.
WALTER ANGIER (Inspector, E). About 10 a.m. on March 19th, in consequence of information, I went to No. 3, Southampton Street—on examining the door leading from the bath-room into the house I found a quantity of putty cut away from the glass panel door, and, embedded in the putty of the panel, I found a piece of steel which corresponds with the knife found on the prisoner—I examined No. 1, Southampton Street—it is possible to enter No. 3 from No. 1 by getting over the hoarding, passing through the shop, up a staircase, through the back room window, and along the leads into the bath-room window of No. 3—the leads run right along the back—I found finger marks on the bath-room window-frame inside—the prisoner was charged with burglary.
Cross-examined. I took the whole of the tools found on you—I had noticed the broken knife—I drew the prosecutor's attention to the putty.
GEORGE ALBERT HAMERTON (Re-examined). At Bow Street I saw that the knife was broken, before the window was searched and the point found—the catch was broken, so that the window could be pushed down—by cutting the glass out a person could enter the inner door, which would lead to the main body of the house.
Prisoner's Defence: Nothing was stolen, and I was not arrested till I got to Burleigh Street.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Guildford on July 4th, 1890, in the name of William Henry. Three other convictions were proved against him.—Five Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. NOLAN Prosecuted.
ALFRED WORMS . I am a dealer, of 14, Leather Lane—on Saturday, January 20th, between 10.30 and 11 p.m., I was in the George public-house—I had a quarrel with Mr. Carroll over 2s.—Bassett came in, and they left together—afterwards I met them in Baldwin's Gardens—I was talking to Bassett's sister—Bassett ran up to me and struck me with a knife on my lip—both had knives—I saw the knives—I ran to the hospital.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Evans was in the public-house—we were not in the same bar—there is a door which is open—I went to the back—I did not challenge you to the back to fight—I said, "Have a fair fight"—there was a fight in the passage—there is no back, only a bit of a yard where people can hardly turn round—I said, "Jimmy, you can stop all this row if you like"—I said to your sister, "It is a nice thing to quarrel, and your brother wants to take my life!"—all my relations live about there—I did not say to Evans, "There is the b——!"—you rushed at me, and only for your sister I should have been killed—the night was foggy and dark, but I saw the knives.
JAMES WICKS . I am a printer, of 11, Verulam Street, Gray's Inn Road—on Saturday night, January 20th, I was with Burford—I saw the prisoner and Carroll hurrying up Baldwin's Gardens—my uncle, the prosecutor, and the prisoner's sister were in front of the prisoner—the prisoner said when he got to the turning, "Here's one!"—they were coming towards us—they closed on uncle and forced him into Leppard's Court—they started to fight—ray uncle did the best he could—I saw Bassett strike uncle in the mouth with something glittering in his hand—then my uncle was gone—I saw the prisoner and Carroll again as I was going to the hospital with Burford.
Cross-examined. It was between 11 and 12 p.m.—you were on the right side of the pavement—there was a lamp near—Leppard's Court is 20 yards from Leather Lane and runs out of Baldwin's Gardens.
GEORGE BURFORD . I live at 9, Providence Place—I was with Wicks in Baldwin's Gardens on January 20th about 11.30 p.m.—I saw the prisoner and Carroll walking up Baldwin's Gardens quickly—Uncle Worms was coming down with the prisoner's sister—the prisoner rushed at my uncle, and drove him into Leppard's Court, and gave him a blow—there is a light at the corner—I saw a shining thing in the prisoner's hand—uncle dodged them and ran out of the court with his hand up to his mouth—I saw that his mouth was cut about two minutes after Bassett struck him—I went to the hospital—I afterwards saw Carroll under the arch in the Central Market.
Cross-examined. I saw you about 30 yards from Leppard's Court—I followed you up—there was no other man there—I saw nothing in my uncle's hand—there was a lamp at the corner—my uncle was about six yards off me—I saw a blade of some sort—the night was foggy and dark—I saw something glittering,
ELLEN WORMS . I live at 14, Leather Lane—I am the prosecutor's daughter—on January 20th I saw the prisoner and Carroll about 12.30, coming out of our house, down the stairs—the door had been broken open—they asked me where my father was—I said I did not know—Carroll said that they meant doing for him that night—I had seen father about 7.30 p.m.—I next saw him at the hospital.
Cross-examined. You were both angry when I said I did not know where father was—I heard you say, "Come on," when Carroll wanted to come back to me—you broke the lock on the door—I did not know what the row was about—father sent me for some trousers; I did not know they were stolen—I had been to Carroll's house about them, and was told to pawn them, but I would not—you had been working at the Town Hall—my father had not been drinking—he never went out till 4.30 p.m.
HARRY CALLIGHAN (Detective, E). On March 8th I was in Gray's Inn Road with two other officers about 5.45 p.m.—Bissill rushed to get hold of the prisoner, who pushed him through a shop window—the prisoner was pursued by another constable and brought back to the window, and then to the station—I read the warrant to him in the station—it is for unlawfully and maliciously wounding Alfred Worms—he said, "All right."
Cross-examined. We were on the left side of the pavement, and you were on the right with another—I ran across the road—Bissill fell through a plate-glass window about 15 or 20 yards off, and Mr. Sage's manager came out—Detective Gray assisted me—I went back to the shop to see what damage was done—I had to report it—the warrant for your arrest had been issued, but we had not been able to find you.
HERBERT GRAY (Detective, E). I was with Callighan and Bissill, trying to arrest the prisoner—he escaped—I subsequently arrested him, and told him there was a warrant out for him—he said, "I did not think you would take such a liberty, as I saw the prosecutor and had a drink with him the other day and made it all right."
AVERY WYNN DICKSON . I am House Surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I saw the prosecutor on January 22nd—he had a clean-cut wound on his upper lip, two in. long, right through the lip—a bit was hanging—it was stitched—he was an in-patient—the wound was caused by some sharp instrument—he is now all right.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that there had been a quarrel over some trousers which had been pawned for 4s., in which quarrel he and his wife had their heads cut in three places.
Witness for the Defence.
CATHERINE BASSETT . I am the prisoner's sister—I was stopped by Worms and Evans, who asked if I had seen "Nobby Carroll"—Worms said he was going to have his f—life—I said, "What for?"—he said, "Never mind," and produced a bar of iron, and the other a lemonade bottle—my brother came up, when Worms said, "Here's the bastards," and rushed at them—I scramed, and ran away.
Cross-examined. I was not in the public-house—I was talking to Worms when they came up—I did not get between them, or I should have been cut—my brother was living at Union Buildings, and I lived at Clerkenwell Green.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on March 8th, 1897. Several other convictions were proved against him, two of which were for wounding.—Twelve Months' Hard Labour .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 4th,1900.
Before Mr Justice Grantham.
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
ETHELBERT AUSTIN (Police Sergeant, E) On February 26th, about 11.15 p.m., I was near Castle Street, and saw a Hansom's cab turn the corner of Farringdon Road—it turned towards the south—it was about 10 yards from the corner, going at about eight miles an hour—there was room for it to go, but the off-side shaft struck a man and knocked him into the carriage road, and the off wheel passed over his body—the prisoner then whipped his horse and drove away at, a galloping pace—I called on him to stop, and endeavoured to step him, but failed—I gave chase, and when
he had gone 150 yards Egan stepped him—I caught up the cab, and requested the driver to leave his seat—I then discovered that he was drunk—I informed him of what he had done—he made no reply—I took him to the station, where be was detained, and then went to the hospital—the prisoner was charged with inflicting grievous bodily harm—he said, "It is no fault of mine"—I did not hear the prisoner warn the man, who was crossing the road—the man died on March 3rd—he was not unconscious, but he said nothing in the prisoner's presence.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you whip the horse—you went on 150 yards.
By the COURT. The deceased was not quite in the middle of the road when he was knocked down—this was at 11.15 p.m.—there was a good light, and nothing to prevent the prisoner seeing the man—there was no traffic at all about.
PATRICK TINEY (Police Sergeant, E). On the evening of February 25th I was walking up Farringdon Road with another officer—when we were just by Chapel Street I saw the prisoner driving the cab, just turning the corner—I saw the deceased pass just in front of the cab, and it knocked him down about the centre of the road—the horse was going at a full trot—the prisoner whipped him, and he broke into a gallop—I heard a shout after the accident, but not before—I stepped into the road to try and stop the horse, but could not—Austin followed while I attended to the wounded man, and took him to the hospital on an open ambulance; with two other men, and Dr Weaver saw him—the cab struck him somewhere about his shoulder, and the whole cab went over him.
JAMES KEENAN . I live at 21, Boley Street, Bath—on January 14th, about 11.15 p.m., I was in Farringdon Road, and heard a whistle—I saw a horse and cab making for Holborn Viaduct at more of a gallop than anything—I got hold of the outside shaft, seized the reins, and brought it to a standstill between Trubner's and the Flour Factory—the prisoner was, in my opinion, drunk—he was taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I am no judge of speed—you were within 15 yards of the asphalte.
JOHN TRINDLE (229E). I made this plan—I am not accustomed to drawing plans, this is my first, but I measured the distances—from point A to B is, as near as possible, 120 yards—these red marks are street lamps.
Cross-examined. Marshall's is not at the corner of Castle Street, but Cork Street—that is the second turning.
FREDERICK WEAVER . I am House Surgeon to St. Bartholomew's Hospital—on the evening of February 26th the deceased was admitted, suffering from injuries—I have every reason to think he had been drinking—he died on the following Saturday—most of the ribs on the right side of his chest were broken, and the lungs were torn by the broken ribs.
MARIA PREVOST . My late husband, Joseph Prevost, was a horsekeeper—he was 36 years of age—on February 26th he left home, in Whitechapel, at 10.20, to go to his night work—he was in good health, and was quite sober.
prisoner was brought there in custody—he was charged with wantonly driving a Hansom's cab, and thereby causing bodily harm to Joseph Prevost, and being drunk at the same time—he said, "It was no fault of mine"—he was very drunk.
Prisoner's Defence: Coming down Clerkenwell Road at 11.10, I saw a man; I halloaed as loud as I could, but the shaft struck him, that is all I know, and he was knocked down. I was not in drink during the evening, but the shock upset me.
GUILTY .— He had been several times convicted of drunkenness and of wanton driving and cruelty to horses.—Twelve Months' Hard Labour .
MR. MORGAN Prosecuted.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, April 4th and 5th,1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. MATHEWS and LYNCH Prosecuted, and MR. MUIR Defended.
THOMAS HENRY HOWE , draughtsman to the Engineering Department of the East India Dock, produced and proved a plan of the dock-quay and the shed, with the gates, Nos. 1 to 7, and stated that it was lighted by the incandescent electric light.
CHARLES BENSTEAD . I am a cooper, employed by the East India Dock Co.—I have known Hetherington as an examining officer for about, five months, and Corbett as a Customs officer—on March 13th I went with them from the Custom House to where the ship Aldgate lay waiting for cargo, and thence to "C" warehouse—Bishop, the shedman, and Satch, a bottle-carrier, were there—there are seven sheds with trellis gates pulled up by ropes inwards—some cases of Moet and Chandon champagne were in a shed for export by the Dunottar Castle—an examination was commenced—Hetherington said. "What are we going to have to drink?"—he pointed to a case of champagne, and told me to open that—Corbett was standing close by—I opened the case, using one of my tools—I carry a glass—I took a bottle from the case, and then took it out of its straw envelope—I knocked the head of the bottle off with my adze—I poured some wine into the glass which I took from my pocket—I gave it to Corbett, who drank it, and then Hetnerington had a glass of wine—then I poured some wine out, and drank it myself—the prisoners were about three yards off—P.C. Pearce came running along the shed—he popped round the corner, and took the bottle with the broken neck, off the cases where I was standing—he went back to where the two officers were standing at the end of the cases, and said, "This is not all right"——Hetherington said, "Our man has met with an accident"—Pearce waited till I had nailed the case down, and then he took us to the Police-station, where he spoke to the inspector, and where Hetherington said
that I had met with an accident—we all then went to the Custom House office where Hetherington said to me, "We must keep to the accident"—I agreed—I made a statement the next day, the 14th, and another on the 17th, before the dock officials—the statement f made on the 17th is true, and contradicts that of the 14th—on the 29th I was called as a witness before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined. Part of my duty is to assist the Customs officers in examining cases—I open cases on their orders—I have never opened a bottle of champagne before—the officers look at it and shake it, and say, "That will do"—a bottle accidentally broken would be examined in preference to a fresh one—Hetherington did not tell me to open the bottle—I have broken many bottles accidentally—the contents were spilled—this bottle was held upright—there was no accident—Corbett was standing at the head of the cases, about four yards off, on the side of me—I did not say, "All right"—I did not say before the Magistrate that I said, "All right"—Hetherington said to the inspector that he allowed me to have a drink of the wine because it was useless—the constable did not say, "The cooper's action is a felony," but "It is a downright felony"—he did not mention me—he did not say that Hetherington knew nothing at all about it, because Hetherington was present—the next day I made a report to Mr. Watson, the Superintendent to the Dock Company—I told him the bottle was broken accidentally, and that Hetherington allowed me to drink some of the champagne—I was sent for to the dock office, and told it would be better for me to make a clean breast of it—they did not speak of prosecution—I have been suspended for three weeks—my wages were 35s. a week—my pension is forfeited if I am discharged for misconduct—knocking off the head of the bottle was a wrong action, but I was under the instructions of a Customs officer.
Re-examined. I have been employed as cooper 25 or 26 years—the case was dry when I nailed it up again.
HARRY PEARCE (Dock Constable). On March 12th, about 9.15 p.m., I was in plain clothes on duty at the East India Dock—I saw the defendants approach the "C" warehouse, with the cooper, Benstead, and another extra man at the Customs—they entered at No. 2 door, and walked about half-way along the warehouse—I stayed outside on the quay—I heard the door go down—the door being closed roused my suspicions—I then went to No. 7 door and watched—I saw the prisoners talking together—the cooper was close to them—I saw the cooper open a case of champagne—the light is incandescent gas at night—in the day the place is gloomy—the cooper knocked the neck off a bottle with an adze—I next saw him pour out a glass and hand it to Corbett, who drank it—he then filled the glass again, and Hetherington came towards Corbett and Benstead—I then left No. 7 door, and went to the door they entered by, which was closed, but unfastened—I pushed through by lifting the door, and saw Benstead drinking from a glass—I went towards them, took the bottle away from Benstead as he was filling the glass again—nearly glass of wine was left in the bottle—Corbett said, "It is all right"—I said, "It is not all right; you will have to accompany me to the Police-office"—Hetherington said, "My man has had an accident"—I said, Your version of the accident will have to be explained to the inspector
of the police"—the case was re-closed and fastened—it was all dry—no wine had been spilt except from the glass when I took the bottle—that was spilt over me—I proceeded with the defendants and Benstead to the Police-office—on the way Hetherington said, "I suppose you must do your duty, and it is no use asking you not to do it'—at the station I related to the inspector what I had seen—a question was put to the prisoners—Hetherington and the cooper both said, "It was an accident"—the matter was reported, and the prisoners left—Bishop was sent for while the prisoners were there—he said he knew nothing about it.
Cross-examined. I also reported to my superior, Mr. Cahill, and on the 15th I made a verbal statement to Mr. Morgan—this was taken down by a clerk—my next statement was before the Magistrate—I never said that Benstead drank a glass and a half—Corbett denied that he drank a glass—then I admitted that I had made a mistake, when it was explained—he had his back to me, and had two drinks with the glass—he said he had one glass—upon Hetherington saying that the bottle was broken by accident, I said, "He knows nothing about it," meaning that he knew nothing of the accident—I made no note of what occurred—Hetherington did not say, "I suppose you consider you are doing your duty, and it is no use asking you not to"—Benstead said at the Police-station, "It was an accident; I knocked the neck off as I was getting it out of the case"—the Aldgate was working all night on the 13th, but the Dunottar stopped about 5 p.m. till the. next morning about 7—we claim the right to search if the Customs officers carry bags.
Re-examined. I have no ill feeling against the prisoners—they are strangers to me.
HENRY WILLIAM BISHOP . I am a shed man employed by the East and West India Dock Company—on March 13th, about 8.45, I went into a shed with the prisoners, and Benstead—Hetherington said to Corbett, "What are we going to have to drink?"—the cooper took a champagne case off the pile and opened it—I turned over my papers, which took me away to do some more examinations of goods—they were 25 to 30 ft. away from me—I heard the knocking of the tool and some glass—Corbett and the cooper were standing close to the pile of cases then—after I heard the breaking of the bottle, Hetherington left me where I was standing, and went up to the other officer—I was subsequently sent for to the Dock House Police-station—the inspector, in the prisoners' presence, asked me what I knew of the matter—I said I did not see any breakage or drinking.
Cross-examined. I may have said, "I know nothing about it"—I made a statement to Mr. Cahill on March 17th at the Dock House—I was told to study my own position as a servant of the company by Mr. Wright, my Superintendent—I heard the clink of the tool on the bottle—Hetherington was examining the tape and sealed goods: the goods enclosed under the Customs' seal—that is only an external examination—I first knew a bottle had been broken when 'the constable came up—I was then putting "Exd." on the goods which Hetherington had examined—he left me to go to Mr. Corbett as the police-officer came—the constable came directly after.
Re-examined. I heard a good deal of talk amongst the officers—Hetherington said, "We will call it a broken bottle"—Hetherington asked me to transfer the Customs' papers to the next ship—I did it unwisely, but I did it—this is the paper I wrote on the back of: "We request transfer, and ship Aldgate, H. Bishop; 13/3/00"—the Dunottar the goods came for.
By MR. MUIR. These goods had been passed before Hetherington passed them, because there is "Exd., satisfied, John McCarthy; 12/3/ 1900, 10.45 a.m."—that shows that officer is satisfied they are correct—that officer checked them at the docks—another examination is necessary before the goods go on the ship—I have recorded four cases opened by McCarthy—our company charge for the trouble of opening—this is the only transfer I made that night—I may have done 20 that day—the note, "One bottle accidentally broken in opening case No. 57," is made by the officer—I do not touch that.
By MR. LYNCH. This is the only instance of transfer at the request of a Custom House officer.
THOMAS HOWLETT (Dock Police Inspector). On March 13th I was on duty at the Police-office at the docks when Pearce brought in the prisoners and Benstead—Pearce in their presence said he saw Benstead open a champagne case, take a bottle out, and knock the neck or top of the bottle off, pour out a glass of wine, which he gave to Corbett, who drank it; then Benstead poured out another glass, and drank it himself, and was in the act of pouring out another glass when he (the witness) went in the shed and brought the three men to the Police-office—Hetherington said, "I ordered the cooper to open the case for examination, and in doing so a bottle was accidentally broken"—I sent for Bishop, the shedman—he came and said, "I know nothing about it whatever."
FREDERICK KITCHEN (Dock Police Inspector). On March, 21st I told Corbett I should arrest him for being concerned with another man in stealing from a case in the East India Dock a bottle of champagne on March 13th, the property of the London and India Docks Joint Committee—he said, "Very well; I will go with you; it is a most unfortunate business"—the same day I arrested Hetherington at the Thames Street Station—I told him the charge—he said, "The Dock Company will have to take the responsibility"—I took him to Limehouse Police-station—in answer to the charge he said, "I deny it; I admit I was in the shed; my duty takes me there."
Hetherington, in his defence, on oath, said that he had been in the Custom House 24 years, that the bottle was broken accidentally in his examination of the goods, and when the cooper reported the accident, as the wine was useless, he asked him to have a glass.
Corbett, in his defence, on oath, said that he had been 15 years in the service, and confirmed Hetherington's statement.
ARTHUR EDMUND TRAVERS . It is the duty of the Custom House officer on receiving goods into the export shed to examine them, and fill up the form produced, when they are received from the bonded warehouse, in accordance with instructions issued by the Board in General Order 57 of 1897—a wide discretion is given to the officer, and although
no duty is payable on export goods, he may examine as many or as few articles as he likes—he may open champagne cases—goods are often transferred, and the shed man has power to sign the transfer.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
FRANK BARTON . I am manager to Messrs. Batey, Limited, mineral water manufacturers, of 216, Kingsland Road—the prisoner was van traveller about two years—his duties were to take out goods and sell to customers for cash, or on credit, if he obtained the customer's receipt—the firm furnished him with a book with counterfoils—this document, "C," and No. 349, purports to be a receipt from Mrs. Meyer, of 45, Ivy Street, Hoxton, for goods value £1 15s. 6d.—it is initialled "F. N."—the prisoner brought it back to the office—this document, "B," is another receipt of October 2nd, 1899, purporting to be for goods left with Mr. White, a publican, of 29, Manor Road, who was also a customer—it has also the customer's signature, "A. White," is initialled, and brought back by the prisoner, and is dated "26/2/1900"—the firm received this letter, which is the prisoner's writing—(Dated February 26th, and stating, "I beg of you to look over my mistake. I have not taken the money with the intention of defrauding the firm, but owing to misfortune at home. Last week I buried my mother. Give me another chance"; and promising to pay back weekly.)
JAMES MCKICKNEY . I am cashier to the prosecutors—I received document "B," which purports to be a receipt for goods delivered to Mr. White on October 2nd as cash, and debited that customer—also document "C," the receipt from Meyer on December 16th.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. We do not accept credit for a smaller amount than 3s.
Re-examined. The prisoner can sell a pennyworth if he likes.
JANE MEYER . I am proprietress of a beer-house at 45, Ivy Lane—Richard Ramsden is my manager—I cannot read or write—the receipt purporting to be signed "J. H. Meyer" on December 16th, 1899, is not my signature—I authorised no one to write it—I have only on one occasion had goods on credit, when I paid the brewer—I have never had goods on credit.
RICHARD RAMSDEN . I am manager for Mrs. Meyer—I did not write "J. H. Meyer" on this document "C"; I was not authorised—this is my book—on December 16th I had four dozen half-pints for 3s. 2d.—they were paid for at the time—no goods were left on credit to the amount of £1 15s. 6d., nor at any time—all mine are cash transactions—these signatures "F. N." the prisoner made in my presence.
ARTHUR BENJAMIN WHITE . I am a beer-house keeper, of 29, Canal Road, Hoxton—the prisoner served me as a customer of Messrs. Batey—I knew him as their traveller—the signature on "B" of "A. White" in respect of an amount of 12s. 6d. on October 2nd is not mine—no such goods were delivered: no money was owing—I keep a book, which the traveller signs—I never have goods on credit.
RANDALL HODGSON (Police Sergean', G). About 10 p.m. on March 20th I arrested the prisoner in Upton Park—I told him I should arrest him for forging a credit note on October 2nd for the sum of 12s. 6d.; also one on December 16th, 1899, for £1 15s. 6d., with intent to cheat and defraud his employers, Messrs. Batey—he said, "I thought it had all blown over; it is through my mother dying that I have got into these difficulties.'
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he had goods stolen from his van, for which the firm made him responsible, and that he gave credit for small sums in the interest of the firm, and he also had home trouble and expenses; so he put in these tickets with no intent to defraud, but intending to pay all back.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STEPHENSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SHUTTLEWORTH . I am a fruiterer, of 185, Hoxton Street, and a customer of Messrs. Batey—I know the prisoner as their carman—on October 6th I had goods from him value £1 2s.—I paid him on December 6th—this is the receipt signed by him: "6/12/29."
JAMES MCKICKNEY . I am Messrs. Batey's cashier—on October 6th I received this ticket from the prisoner, showing that goods to the value of £1 12s. were left on credit with Mr. Shuttleworth—on January 12th the prisoner paid 10s. on account—I have not received any more.
FRANK BARTON . On February 22nd the prisoner handed in this list of what was due to the firm, including Mr. Shuttleworth, of Hoxton, as still owing £1 12s.—it is signed by him—it is all in his writing—he was subsequently dismissed—on the back of the firm's portion of the slips travellers are informed that in the event of their receiving money payments and not handing over the same, they will be prosecuted for embezzlement.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, repeated his former defence, and added that the rules of the firm and the long hours prevented the carmen being able to keep accurate accounts, and one account was paid in against another.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STEPHENSON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 5th,1900.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. C. MATHEWS Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.
EMMA HARTLEY , I am 18 years old, and live with my parents at 23, Denmark Street, Soho—I am a tailoress—I have known the prisoner 24 months—he was a tinker's labourer—we lived together for a month, but
we were not living in the same house—when I was living at 13, Arthur Street he lived in the same street—I moved to 23, Denmark Street in August last—he became intimate with me, and I had a child by him, which was born in the workhouse on August 19th, 1899, and was christened Harry Hartley—after its birth I went to live at Denmark Street, taking the child with me—the prisoner was living at 25, Beverton Street, Drury Lane, and I used to walk out with him—he paid 3s. a week towards the child's support, but he stopped at Christmas—I did not ask him the reason—I walked out with him after Christmas because he was the father of my child, but I was not wanting him to marry me—he wanted to marry me, but my father would not give his sanction—the connection between us was not renewed after the child's birth; it was only walking out—I have a sister at Lambeth, named Mrs. Meredith, and was in the habit of spending Sunday with her—the prisoner and I went there on Sunday, January 4th, and had tea with her and my brother-in-law—after tea the prisoner asked me to go out, but my sister said, "No, you had better stay where you are; it is not time to go home yet"—the prisoner seemed all right after that—I did not notice anything wrong, but my sister told me something afterwards—on Sunday, February 11th, we were again at Mrs. Meredith's to tea—the prisoner had a pipe in his mouth—I said, "Oh! take that thing out of your mouth," and knocked it out of his mouth, because he had hurt himself by smoking—I did not like his smoking a pipe, but I liked him smoking cigarettes—he picked the pipe up of the floor, and said, "Mind you and the baby do not go over the Embankment to-night"—after that he never showed his temper to me—we walked home, and he took me to my door—we parted good friends—I saw him next on Wednesday, February 14th, outside my door—I don't know what was the matter with him, but he did not speak to me; he walked away—he used to come into the house, and come upstairs and see the baby—he did not come at all during the week—on the following Saturday, the 17th, I saw him outside the door—I said, "Are you going to give me anything for the baby?" and after about an hour he gave me 1s.—about 10 o'clock I went to market for my mother, and on my way back I asked the prisoner if he could spare me another sixpence on Monday, he did not say anything, but struck me on my eye—I said, "Good night," and went upstairs—I felt pain in my eye—he gave me no money—on the next day, Sunday, the 18th, I went to the Meredith's with the child—the prisoner did not go with me—I came back alone about 10.45, and when I got to my own door I found the prisoner waiting outside it—I was carrying the baby in my arms—he said, "Give me the baby," and swore at me—I handed the baby to him—he ran away in the direction of St. Giles's Church, and I followed him, but lost sight of him just about the top of Seven Dials—I called after him, but he did not stop—I went home and knocked at my street door, but nobody came down—after a little time I went to one of my brothers-in-law, Henry Graham, and he and I and two girls went to the prisoner's lodgings, but did not find him there—we then went in the direction of Charing Cross, but could discover nothing of the child, and I returned home and found a detective there, who told me something, and J went to Bow Street Police-station—the
prisoner was perfectly sober that night—he was fond of the child in my presence—he used to kiss it—I thought when I handed it to him that he was going to take it as he had done before—it was dressed in this blue frock, black socks, white petticoat, white band, and a little white shawl (Produced)—on March 7th I was taken to the Parish Mortuary, Rotherhithe, and saw the naked body of my child.
Cross-examined. He was fond of the child and fond of me—all the time we were out together he was kind to me—my father objected to his marrying me—I had not asked the prisoner for money, and, as far as I know, my father had not—when we went out we did not talk very much—I have been in the habit of going out with him every Sunday—I had done nothing to make him angry with me—he was rather more quiet on the 11th; he was sulky a bit—I noticed a change of manner; he did not talk so much to me—I had a talk with him on the Wednesday, and I could not tell what was the matter with him—he was still in work—as far as I know, he had nothing to worry him—he talked just as he did before, but not so much—on this Saturday night I had a long talk with him—I asked him if he would give me the baby's money, and he did not give it to me for an hour.
By the COURT. That was not the first shilling he had given me since Christmas; he gave me several sums—he gave me 1s.6d.: after that he gave me two eighteenpences and two separate shillings.
By MR. SANDS. It was about 8 o'clock when I came down, and he gave me the shilling about 20 minutes to 9—he made no answer when I asked him; he went on talking about something else, and at 9 o'clock he put his hand in his pocket and gave me the shilling, and said, "If you do not like to take that you will get nothing"—immediately after that he went on talking about something else, and after another hour I asked him to give me another sixpence—he said nothing, but he struck me—I said that I would meet him on Sunday if baby's cold was better, but he did not come, and I went on by myself—he was always sober—I came back; I think it was a quarter to 11—he did not snatch the baby from me; he asked for it, and I gave it into his arms—he had never called me names before—he was very mild spoken—on this Saturday night he looked depressed, and he looked down, but would not tell me; I asked him more than once—he went from one thing to another; mixed up.
By the COURT. He was talking rationally about different things, but he went from one thing to another—he spoke all right—what he talked about he said rationally.
Re-examined. I noticed on the Saturday night that he was depressed—that was all.
HARRIETT LOUISE MEREDITH . I am a sister of the last witness, and the wife of Charles Meredith—I have known the prisoner some years, and during that time he has been keeping company with my sister—it was known that the child she had in August was his child—it was their habit to come to our house on Sunday afternoons, and stay to tea—they did so on Sunday, February 4th, with the child—the prisoner asked her to go out, but my husband forbade her, after which the prisoner seemed very cross—on the next Sunday, February 11th, I saw her knock a pipe
out of his mouth—he seemed very cross, and said, "You had better mind; you and your baby"—my husband made her sit down a little while, and they went away together—he was not cross when he left—on the next Sunday my sister and her baby came and spent the afternoon, but the prisoner was not with them—she remained till 10.15, and left with the baby—that was the last I saw of the child—I remember my sister asking the prisoner for money—he gave her 1s., and she asked him if he could not give her a little more—he said that he was not earning much money—that was not the night that the pipe was knocked out.
Cross-examined. They were always quite friendly, except when the pipe was knocked out of his mouth—he was quiet that day.
CHARLES MEREDITH . I am the husband of the last witness, and live at Princes Road, Lambeth—I remember my sister-in-law asking the prisoner to go out for a walk on February 4th—he went out, and in his absence I said something—I noticed his demeanour that-evening, because I thought there was going to be a repetition of what he had done before—he seemed just the same after I had given the refusal—the only excuse was that he was thinking of her mother and father, who did not want her to be out late—I said that it was not late—on the 11th, after she knocked the pipe out of his mouth, he said, "You will have to be very careful when you do go home to-night, or you and the child might go to the embankment"—I took no notice—he has used bad language to my sister-in-law—I think it must have been about January, as near as I can judge—he called her a bleeding carrotty cow—she did not seem to take much notice of that—I rebuked him and said, "It is a good thing her mother is not here; she is not carrotty, her hair is auburn"—they left on good terms, and that was the last time I saw him at my house—I was at home on the 18th—he did not come that day, but I had been up there—I had not been to work, as I had sprained my ankle; but I spoke to her at her mother's place.
Cross-examined. I always treated him as a friend—he behaved quietly, but he was rather fidgetty—he was always fidgetting about in his chair—he seemed a bit nervous—I first noticed that one week day this year—he seemed to get more fidgetty from that time—he seemed sulky once when I told him about what he had called her.
EMMA MATILDA GRINHAM . I am a school girl living with my parents at Denmark Street, Soho, in the same house with the Hartleys—on Sunday, February 18th, I was outside the house with my sister Eliza, and saw the prisoner—he kept on asking me each time I went outside for errands where Emma was, and I said, "I don't know'—I went down several times that evening on errands beginning at 7.30, and three or four times after that, and each time the prisoner was outside the door standing at the lamp-post—he always asked we the same question, and I always gave him the same answer—I went up the last time at 10.15, and left him standing there.
Cross-examined. I lived on the same floor, and the prisoner knew that.
that because I thought it would upset him—I told him that the baby was not very well.
ELIZA GRINHAM . I am a sister of Emma Grinham, of 23, Denmark Street—I am 16—on Sunday night, February 18th, I was outside the door about 10.30, and saw the prisoner—he said, "Where is Emma?"—I said, "I don't know"—I went upstairs, leaving him outside the door.
EDGAR ADAMS (209E). On February 18th, about 11.30, I was on duty near Charing Cross, on the Thames Embankment, and saw the prisoner come on to the Embankment from Villiers Street, carrying a baby—he seemed exhausted as if he had been running—he was coming towards me, and turned to the left towards the water, and I lost sight of him.
Cross-examined. He did not try to avoid me—he was about a mile from Denmark Street Soho.
By the COURT. He had to turn to one side or the other—he crossed the road—there is a hoarding, and he had to pass a small barrow.
—BARDELL (112E). On Sunday, February 18th, I was standing at the Police-station door, and the prisoner came up and said that he wished to give himself up for murder; he had thrown his child into the water from the Thames Embankment—he said the age of the child—he made a statement to the inspector, who read it to him, and she signed it—he said to me that he did not know why he did it; he was very fond of the baby; something all of a sudden came to him that he would throw the baby into the Thames; that there was a burning in his head, and probably he should get five years.
Cross-examined. He used the word "murder"—I did not speak to him first—he asked for a cigarette—he talked in a connected way about where he had been working, and I let him talk on—he said that if his mother had been alive it would not have happened—he talked about other subjects as well—he was with me halt an hour, talking most of the time—I only answered him "Yes" or "No"—he seemed a bit excited, and I thought he looked very strange—he was not strange when he first came up to me; he was calm—I hardly believed him—I thought he had had a dispute and had done it in a bit of bravado—he said, "I have had a lot of trouble lately," and "My head feels burning," "that the baby started crying!" and that all of a sudden something struck him—you can walk to Bow Street from Waterloo Bridge easily in four or five minutes.
WILLIAM CRAWFORD (Police Inspector G). I was on duty at Bow Street at 11.50, when the prisoner was brought in—he said that he wished to give himself into custody for murdering his child, aged 7 months—I told him that if he desired to say anything it would be put down in writing, and might be used against him—I took it down—he read it over himself and signed it—this is it: "I wish to confess that I have just thrown my son, age 7 months into the Thames from Victoria Embankment. He was dressed in blue pelise and cape. Its mother, Miss Emma Hartley, is living at 23, Dennmark Street. I saw her about 11.5 p.m. outside her residence. She had the child in her arms. I asked her to let me look after it, and I took the child out of her arms. I then went down Endell Street to Old Compton Street, to St. Martin's Lane, to Victoria Embankment, just past Wate-loo Bridge,
where I threw the baby into the river, and I then, came away.—CHAS. HENRY MILES"—after that statement had been made I sent for Miss Hartley, who made a statement to me—I then charged the prisoner with murder—he made no reply then, but as he was leaving the cell be said, "I would not have done it, but the mother of the child bad worried me for money, and I have been assaulted by her father."
Cross-examined. His manner was rational—I felt certain that he was perfectly sane, and that what he said was correct, or I should not have taken it down—heard nothing about "five years"—I asked him if he was all right—he said, "Yes; I would not have done it, but I was worried by my wife, and her father has assaulted me"—I asked him in the morning how he had slept—he said that he could not sleep; he had not slept—I heard him make a statement before the Magistrate—Emma Hartley did not say at Bow Street that he had never given her more than 1s.—I made inquiries, and found that the prisoner's aunt, Eliza Whitehead, died in a lunatic asylum at 84 years of age, having been admitted there two years previously, suffering from delusions, and the doctor said that she was suffering from general paralysis, and gradually became worse, and that it was probably through some form of excess—his mother was admitted to St. Giles's Infirmary, suffering from epilepsy, and was discharged—she was admitted again in July, and died from epilepsy and dementia—she used to talk to imaginary persons—she used to drink very heavily I found.
ALEXANDER GRAIN . I am a medical practitioner, of Jamaica Road—on March 7th I saw the dead body of a child at the mortuary, and made a post mortem examination—the cause of death was suffocation by drowning—it was a very healthy child.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "Miss Emma Hartley has told one or two lies: the first was, I did not blacken her eye; the second is, I have given her more than a shilling since the child was born."
Evidence for the Defence.
RICHARD LEAMINGTON . I am a printer's labourer, of 76, Long Acre—I have known the prisoner for five years—he worked for the same firm as myself—he said that he allowed Emma Hartley 2s. a week for the child, and that her father wanted to strike him on several occasions for not marrying her—he was a good worker, but he was strange at times; he would dance and skip and laugh when he had work to do—he was sociable—he did not make friends—he sat By himself at times—that manner came on him soon after he lost his father and mother last September, but before that he was not just like other people; he was very quiet.
Cross-examined. He always did his work and earned his wages—I did not suspect that he was mad in any way, he seemed ail right—there was nothing about him which caused me any fear, but he threatened to take
his life after his mother's funeral in July; he said that he should go and drown himself pr else cut his throat—he was very much cut up by the loss of his mother, and having the child to support; the one came on the other—he said he could not afford to keep a wife on 14s. a week, having two brothers at home—he told me that after the confinement—the last time he told me that was about November.
By the COURT. He was only a labourer, sending shirts out and seeing that they were all correct; and sometimes when he took his glasses off he could not see—he came there as an errand boy first, and worked up—he got overtime, which sometimes brought it up to 18s.
By the JURY. He only got overtime on Friday nights—he would earn about 17s. with the overtime.
JAMES THOMAS . I am a printer—I have known the prisoner a good many years—the last time he worked with me was three years ago—he was very peculiar in his manner, and they used to call him Peluti—he was very cheeky at times, and threatened to fight you without any reason.
Cross-examined. I have known the family some time—both the father and the mother drank when they had the money, especially on Saturdays, and they did last year—I brought the prisoner to my firm, and he was employed there for three years; he left my department and went into the machinery, and afterwards he left and got another place—he did not appear to be a person to be afraid of—he got 7s.6d. or 8s. wages in my department.
WILLIAM HARTLEY . I am the father of Emma Hartley—I did not press the prisoner to marry her; I objected—I never pressed him to support the child—I never struck him, but I pushed him, and he fell down—that was last May, when I found what state my daughter was in.
Cross-examined. I found out that he was the father of her child, and there were some words between us—I pushed him; I would have struck him—I was not on good terms with him—he has been in the house at Christmas time, but I never spoke to him—be was not there with the mother and child—I do not know what he gave her to support the child; I never troubled about it.
GEORGE ALBERT HAMMERTON . I am the Divisional Surgeon—on February 19th I was called to Bow Street Station and saw the prisoner—he complained of pain in his head—I thought he was not quite right, but he spoke quite rationally in answer to my questions—I suspected epilepsy; he was very pale, and the pupils of his eyes were dilated—that was the only occasion on which I saw him; about seven hours after ho was taken to the station.
Cross-examined. I got nothing to confirm my suspicions of epilepsy, but it struck me at the time—I did not speak to him about what he had done; only about his ailment—the inspector asked me if he was ill, and I said he was quite fit to go before the Magistrate.
Re-examined. I was not examining him as to the state of his mind—the inspector sent for me to know whether it was desirable for him to remain in the police cells or go to the infirmary.
By the COURT. As far as I could see, he knew the difference between right and wrong.
JOHN ALFRED HURLEY . The prisoner has been employed under me since 1897—his behaviour was very good—he was a simple lad, he did not make friends—when he who doing nothing, he pulled a book out of his pocket—about a year ago he had a quarrel with another boy; about that time he lost his father and mother; he was only receiving 8s. a week; bur I knew than he was without a father, and raised his wages, and the man he worked with quarrelled with him and struck him on the head with a hammer—I did not know anything about it till I saw one of the boys washing his head, and I had him taken to King's College Hospital—he continued working, but I let him off easily, and when he came back from the hospital I let him go home—a few weeks before this crime happened I heard that he had been hounded into the office after he received his money, as if somebody had been running after him.
Cross-examined. I have had him under observation just under three years—I thought he was simple—we had a charwoman at home named Miles, and I suspected that he was related to her, and took an interest in him—I noticed no difference in him after the affair of the hammer last year—it did not strike me that his father and mother's death made any difference in his manner.
DR. SCOTT. I have had the prisoner under observation since February 19th—he is weak-minded and below the average of intelligence—he complained of pains in his head and giddiness—I could find no organic cause for the giddiness—I found no epilepsy at all—I have heard the family history—the cause of his aunt's malady is doubtful—he is 19 years old—I have heard that he had trouble in losing his father and mother, and was left alone—a weak mind would be very likely to be upset by that—I found no indication of a blow on his head—the death of his father and mother when he was only earning 8s. a week would not improve his mind—I have heard what Bardell said, and I that he gave himself up for murder, and that be said, "I expect I shall get five years for this; that does not fully account for his not appreciating what he had done—I come to the conclusion that his mind was confused when he was at the station; that he was mentally upset—I think he did know what he was doing, but did not appreciate it to the full extent—I have not heard that the girl's father asked him to marry her, I understood that he asked him to pay money-—I have also heard the father deny it—that does not weigh with me at all in forming a conclusion as to the state of his mind—I have heard from the witness Hartley that for the last fortnight before the occurrence his manner changed, and he became very silent and depressed—that would suggest an increase of the weakness—I heard he had been worried—worry and passion would affect a weak mind more than another—the change would not necessarily point to a weaker mind—if there was a change in his manner entirely without any cause for it, any temper, it might indicate weakness—weakness sometimes grows very rapidly—one sign is delusions as to facts.
Cross-examined. I gave particular attention to the prisoner, in strict conformity with my duty—I watch all persons who are to be charged with crime—I think the prisoner knows at present what he has done, and that it was wrong—his mind is below the average—I should not at any time have felt justified in giving a certificate that he is insane—I
cannot see anything in the evidence which would justify me in curtailing his liberty—weak-minded people are very likely to act from impulse.
By the COURT. The law would not allow weak-minded people to be put under control—from what I have seen of him, I believe that at that time he knew that what he was doing was wrong.
GUILTY, but insane at the time.— To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure .
MR. STEPHENSON, on summons, Defended.
GUILTY, except in the case of Miss Blackwell.— Six Months' Hard Labour .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, April 4th and 5th; and
OLD COURT.—Friday, April 6th,1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
276. ALFRED PAGET (35), BERNARD ABRAHAMS (35), JOSEPH HAYNES , and EDWARD BLANCHLAND ECCLES , Unlawfully conspiring with Henry Marks, Douglas Benjamin Don Watson, and William Henry Sandbrook, to cause the Secretary of State to grant a certificate of naturalisation to Paget, he being an alien. Second Count: For conspiring together to obtain by false pretences from the Secretary of State a certification of naturalisation. Other Counts varying the form of the charges.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY, BODKIN, and BIRON Prosecuted; MR. C. F. GILL, Q.C., and MR. ARTHUR GILL appeared for Paget, MR. MARSHALL HALL, Q.C., and MR. J. P. GRAIN for Abrahams; and MR. SYMMONS for Haynes and Eccles.
CHARLES ANGELL BRADFORD . I am Assistant Superintendent in the Registry at the Home Office—instructions are issued from the Home Office to persons who are desirous of obtaining naturalisation under the Naturalisation Act of 1870—this document (No. 9) is a copy of that issued to aliens applying for naturalisation—it requires the memorial of the applicant to be verified by his own statutory declaration, and it is required that the statements in the memorial and the respectability and loyalty of the applicant must be vouched for by a declaration made by four householders who are natural born British subjects, and in each case it is required that the persons shall not be the agent or solicitor of the memorialist—the fee payable on the grant of the certificate is £5—on November 24th last the memorial of Alfred Paget, asking for naturalisation under the Act. was received at the Home Office, and was accompanied by a declaration of Alfred Paget, and also by the statuory declarations of Haynes Morris, Don Watson, and Sandbrook—they were forwarded with a letter signed" Be✗ard Abrahams," from 2, Great Marlborough Street—the Deed Poll was also sent, which shows that Alphonse de Blutstein in 1876 changed his name to Alfred Paget—the papers were handed over to Scotland Yard for the police to make inquiries in the usual way—the instructions state that the statements in the memorial and declarations
will be made the subject of independent inquiry by the Secretary of State—the police reported to the Home Office, and the matter was placed in the hands of the Director of Public Prosecutions.
Cross-examined by MR. C. F. GILL. There are a great number of applications for naturalisation in the course of the year—a very small percentage of them are refused—sometimes the applications are made through law stationers—the forms are obtainable at any well-known law stationer's—passports are only issued to Englishmen—if the Secretary of State is satisfied with the. evidence of an alien who applies, and who has resided in the United Kingdom for not less than seven years, and of the evidence of his intention to reside, then no explanation is given—there is nothing in the Act of Parliament with regard to character—I have nothing to do with the interpretation of the Act—I have never read the Act—I have been in the department for seven years—any person making an application for the instructions would get them free—the information to be given is the name of the foreign State to which the applicant belongs, his place of birth, the names and nationality of his parents, his age and profession, whether he is married, or his any children, their names and ages and number, and stating that, for a period of five years out of the last eight years he has lived in England—there is nothing in Section 2 about his character—when an application is refused no reason is given, it is simply refused, and there is an end of it—Paget's memorial is on one of Waterlow's forms—his memorial says that he resides at 2, Woodstock Street—it is written by somebody else, and signed by him, and he declares that the contents are true—this declaration with regard to Eccles is partly printed and partly written, and is declared before a Commissioner for oaths—there is no statement with regard to anything except residence—it depends on the circumstances of the case as to how soon the papers would be sent to Scotland Yard, but, assuming that the papers are properly filled up, they ought to go in in a day or two—I do not know when these papers reached Scotland Yard—I did not send them in.
Cross-examined by MR. GRAIN. I do not know that Abrahams has ever sent in any naturalisation papers before—I do not remember a letter from Abrahams coming on December 18th.
Re-examined. In this case the papers were quite in order when they first came—there was no sending of them back.
(MR. AVORY here stated that the witness Morns had absconded.)
WILLIAM HENRY SANDBROOK . I live at la, Blenheim Mansions, Lisson Grove—I have no occupation at present—in March, 1899, I took the first floor at 22, Great Marl borough Street), and commenced business there as a fan importer—I took the room from Abrahams, and paid the rent to him—he carried on his business of a solicitor on the ground floor, which is next door to the Marlborough, Street Police-court—in November I wanted to see him in his office—he was busy, and could not see me, but as I was going upstairs he came out of bis room and said, "Oh, I wish you would high this for me, old man; a pal of mine wants to be naturalised"—I said, "It's ail right, isn't it?"—he said, "Oh, yes; it's only a matter of form "—I then went into his private office with him to sign it—there were several people in the office—I do not remember any of them
now—I again said, "Is it all right?" and he said, "Oh, yes, yes; it is only a matter of form"—I then signed a paper which was lying on the table; this is it (Produced)—I cannot remember now, but Abrahams must have shown me where to sign it; my name is last—I should not like to say if the other signatures were there then—the paper was folded up—I turned it over, and I saw it was an ordinary printed form—I did not read it—I do not know if there was a Commissioner for oaths there—I did not know Mr. Stollard; I have seen him since—I do not know if he was there—he did not ask me if this was my declaration, or if the contents were true; I simply signed it and went out—I aid not know Alfred Paget, or know that the declaration was for him—I did not know such a person, but I have since recognised him as a nodding acquaintance who I have known for about three months—I would say "Good morning" as I passed him in the street—I remember about the beginning of December Sergeant Mew calling at my address, and I made a statement to him—I saw Abrahams in the office one day after that—he asked me if they had been to see me—I suppose he meant the people who made inquiries—I said, "Yes"—he said, "What did they say?"—I said, "I said I did not know Paget"—he said, "Oh, you ought not to have said that; you do know him"—I thought I was signing a kind of petition.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. My going into the office was a mere chance—I thought Abrahams wanted to get a quantity of signatures, and had no further object in it.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. Abrahams did not pre-arrange the meeting—after I had seen Mew I said to Abrahams, "You will probably have to get another lot"—I meant a fresh lot of signatures—I thought it was in consequence of some irregularity.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMMONS. I have not seen Mr. Stollard till this morning—I will not say he was not present when J signed the paper—I will positively say that he did not say, "Is this your signature?"—nobody asked me, "Have you read this?"
Re-examined. I did not know that "I, the said W. Henry Sandbrook, declare that I am a householder and a natural born British subject, and have personally known and been intimately acquainted with the said Alfred Paget for a period of five years now last past," was in the paper, or I should not have signed it—I never authorised Abrahams or anyone else to put such a statement anywhere, or that I would vouch for his respectability—I did not know that statement was there when I signed.
ARNOLD WILLIAM WHITTELL HOLT . I am a solicitor, of 7, Argyle Place, Regent Street, and a Commissioner for oaths—on November 14th this declaration (Produced) was made before me by a person giving the name of Eccles—the memorial of Alfred Paget was exhibited to the declarant at the time—I went through the usual form of exhibiting the memorial to the person and asking him if this was his signature, and if the contents of the declaration were true—I cannot say if he brought it already signed or not, but the general rule is that they are already signed—I see that there are some slight alterations—I initialled them—the figure "9" appears to have been altered—it was not so when I took the declaration, or I should have initialled it—I cannot recognise Eccles as
the person who made the declaration—I think he came from Abraham's office—he was accompanied by Abrahams' clerk.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I knew of the clerk as Abrahams' clerk.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. I did not read over the document—it was not read over in my presence.
Re-examined. Eccles was brought to my office for the sole purpose of making this declaration.
WILLIAM STOLLARD . I am a solicitor, of 24, Great Marl borough Street, and a Commissioner for oaths, appointed in 1875—my office is opposite Abrahams' office—I know him—I have taken affidavits for him—this joint declaration of Haynes, Morrs, Watson, and Sandbrook was made before me on November 22nd, 1899, at 22, Great Marlborough Street—it was between 5 and 6 p.m.—I was sent for to take it—there were present Haynes, Morris, Abrahams, Sandbrook, Watson, and, I think, Paget; but I am not quite sure—I declared each of the four separately, and asked each of them whether they knew the contents of their several declarations, and that they were true—they all said, "Yes," and I swore them—the signatures were already on the paper when I got there—I am positive that Sandbrook was one of them—if he says that he left the office directly after he signed, and never saw me, his memory fails him, and that is saying it in a very mild tone—I referred to paragraph 7 in their presence, where it says, "We further jointly and severally declare that we have read the memorial of the said Alfred Paget for a certificate of naturalisation, and which memorial is now produced and shown to us... and that, according to the best of our knowledge, information, and belief, the statements made therein by the said Alfred Paget are severally and respectively true...."—I have endorsed the memorial four times—on that same day I took the declaration of Alfred Paget verifying the statement in the memorial—I recognise the prisoner as the person—I cannot say what time of day that was—Mr. Abrahams paid me 1s. 6d.; he ought to have paid me an extra 10s., but he did not.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I said before, "It was nearly 6 o'clock; I was suffering from a cold, and wanted to get home."
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I have known Mr. Abrahams ever since he was a boy.
CHARLES OLIVER . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Mead & Sons, solicitors, of 6, Arundel Street, Piccadilly Circus—they are solicitors to the owner of 2, Woodstock Street—in November, 1892, the lease of the house was granted to a person calling himself Loris Max Auclair—I produce the counterpart of the lease, signed by him—it was originally signed "Loris M Ouder"—that is struck out, and "Loris M. Auclair" written instead—the person who took the lease is described as a mantle and costume maker—after it was taken Paget came to the office on several occasions, and paid the rent in the name of Auclair—it was paid quarterly—sometimes it was paid by cheques, which were signed "Paget & Co.," or "Alexander & Co.," sometimes "Paget, Alexander, & Co."—in February, 1893, we had a notice of an assignment of this lease to Madame Auclair, of 35, Ruedes E✗usies d'Arbois, Paris—before the
lease was granted to Auclair in November, 1892, the house had been empty for a few months.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I did not know till February, 1893, that the lady was Paget's wife—I did not know that he took the house in her name—she is described as Marie Auclair, mantle and costume maker—the rent has always been punctually paid.
Re-examined. Nothing was said about his wife when he took the house.
CATHERINE HOGAN . I am the widow of Edward Hogan, living at Castle Street., Oxford Street—I lived at 2, Woodstock Street. Bond Street, with my husband, for 18 months, leaving in January, 1898—I occupied the second floor from Madame Auclair—that was the name I always knew her by—I saw Paget there—he signed my rent book in the name of Paget—when I paid my rent to Madame she signed the book in the name of Auclair—I knew Paget by several different names—letters would come in the names of Warwick Williams, Paget, Auclair, Murray, Cooper, and Linderdoff—Paget was away twice for about three or four months at a time.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I occupied the second floor, and a lady and her mother the top floor, the strong man Sampson the basement, and Madame the first floor—I know there is a composer named Warwick Williams—he did not live in that house while I was there—I do not know that the Marquis de Louville lived there—I never saw Abrahams at the house.
Re-examined. The letters that came for "Warwick Williams" I would sometimes put upstairs—I do not know anybody who lived in the house and answered to the name of Linderdoff or Murray Cooper except Paget—I do not remember handing the letters to Paget—some registered letters came there from France—I never took any of them in; my husband did, and signed for them.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. He came in March of last year—so far as I know, his conduct was that of a respectable man—he furnished the rooms with his own furniture.
WILLIAM MILFORD . I held the lease of 92, Wimpole Street, Cavendish Square—I am now occupying it as a yearly tenant—in October, ✗1899, Eccles came to live there, and has occupied three furnished rooms there—I know Haynes by his coming to and fro as a friend of Eccles—in the beginning of this year Eccles was away at the seaside, and Haynes used to come and fetch his letters.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. I always found Eccles to be a good tenant—he paid his rent of £2 7s. 6d. a week.
WALTER NEWPORT . I am a clerk to Messrs. Winkworth, auctioneers, of Curzon Street, Mayfair—they are agents for the owners of 25A, Park Lane, which are a stable with rooms over—in September, 1898, they were taken by a person calling himself Vivian Blackwell—the rent due at midsummer, 1899, was unpaid; in consequence, a distress was put in in
July, after which nobody lived there till November—nobody named Benjamin Don Watson was living there on November 22nd—I never heard the name.
Cross-examined by MR. GLLL. Blackwell was carrying on the business of a horsedealer—I saw him there on one occasion.
WILLIAM CROCKETT . I am a stableman—I know Vivian Blackwell—I entered his service about November, 1897, and remained there up to November, 1899—I remember him going to 25A, Park Lane—I knew him also as Don Watson—I remember a man being put into possession for rent about July, 1899—Blackwell did not remain there long after the man was put in—he took the furniture away with him when the man was out—he never went back, so for as I know—I remained with him at some other place—I knew Abrahams while I was with Watson, and I believe Watson knew him—I used to take notes and messages to Abrahams from Watson—I have seen them together in the street—at the end of last year Watson sent for me to go over to Paris—I went to see Abrahams before I went—I showed him the letter I had had from Watson, and Abrahams gave me advice how I was to get over to Paris—I arrived at Paris on Friday, December 14th or 15th, and saw Watson at the Hotel Ritz, where he was staying—I only knew Paget by his being pointed out to me by Blackwell—I did not see Paget or Abrahams while I was in Paris—Watson told me they were there.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I understood that Watson was carrying on the hors dealing business in the name of Blackwell.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. He drove a buggy—he would drive to Abrahams' office, and occasionally Abrahams would come out and speak to him.
WILLIAM MEW (Police Sergeant, L). The papers in the application of Paget for naturalisation were handed to me at Scotland Yard to make inquiries about—on November 30th I called at 2, Woodstock Street, to see Paget, about 12.30 a.m.—he was not at home, and I left a message for him—on my return to Scotland Yard that evening I found this telegram (Produced) waiting for me, asking me to call at 5 o'clock at 22, Great Marlborough Street, from Abrahams—it appears to have been sent from Regent Street at 12.35, which would be after my call an Paget's house—it was too late to go that day, so I went next day, Friday, December 1st, about 11 a.m., to Abrahams' office—I found him and Paget together alone—I said to Paget, "Are you Mr. Pager, the applicant?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you live at 2, Woodstock Street?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "What are you by profession?"—he said, "I deal in mines and shares abroad"—I said, "Where?"—he said, "In South Africa"—I said, "How long have you been in this country?" he said, "Over 20 years"—I said, "And you are a respectable man?"—he said, "Yes"—"Have never been connected in any way with any dishonest transaction?" he said, "No"—I said, "Will these facts be borne out by your sureties?" he said, "Yes, they are very respectable gentlemen, you can see two of them at 2, Woodstock Street, this evening"—I said, "Very well; but I must also see them at their addresses"—he said, "Oh, very well; but will it be necessary?"—I said, "Yes, what is it you want to be naturalised for?" he said, "To become the owner of property in Woodstock Street, and be able to vote"—I said, "Very well; I will make
the necessary inquiries"—Paget then said, "I am going abroad, and I want you to get this through for me as soon as possible; I will give you £5 and make you a nice present"—I said, "It is very kind of you to say that, but I must make the necessary inquiries"—Abrahams then pointed to the door, and said, "All right, Paget, I will see you in a minute"—Paget went to the door and walked straight out and closed the door behind him, when Abrahams said, "Mew, get this through for him as soon as you can; he is a good client; I do not want to lose him, and I will put you on a fiver"—I said, "Very well, Mr. Abrahams, good morning; I will see what can he done," and I left the room—I then returned to Scotland Yard—I had the papers saying that Paget's original name was Blutstein, and I made a search among the records at Scotland Yard—I obtained certain information, and went at 6 p.m. that evening to 2, Woodstock Street, with Sergeant Knell—on the first floor I found Paget, Abrahams, Haynes, Morris, and Abrahams' clerk—first I put some questions to Morris, and took down his answers; then I said to Haynes, What is your name and address?"—he said, "Joseph Haynes, Dunster Gardens, Brondesbury"—I said, "What are you by profession?"—he said, "A mining agent"—I said, "Is the statement so far as the period you have known Mr. Paget correct?"—he said, "Yes, six years"—his declaration was there when I questioned him—I said, "Where did you first meet him, and when?"—he said, "In London, about six years ago"—he could not say where—I said, "Have you had any business transactions with him; and it so, of what nature?"—he said, "Yes in West Australian mining"—I said, "During the time you have known him have you always found him a respectable, honest man?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Have you ever known him to be connected with any dishonest transactions?"—he said, "No"—I then made an appointment with Paget and Abrahams to meet the other three sureties, Watson, Sandbrook, and Eccles, at Abrahams' office on December 5th—when I went neither Abrahams nor the other sureties were there—on the following day I received this letter by hand from Abrahams, dated December 6th, and addressed to me at Scotland Yard: "Dear Sir,—We should esteem it a favour if you would kindly attend at our office to-morrow at 12 o'clock re Paget"—I did not go—I had seen Eccles a day or two before that at 92, Wimpole Street—I put similar questions to him as I had put to Haynes and Morris—he verified the statements in his declaration—he said he had known Paget for a number of years, and had dealt with him in buying and selling shares, and in buying and selling carpets, and the period, so far as the time that he had known him, was true; that he had always looked upon him as an honest, respectable, upright, and straightforward man—I saw Sandbrook, I believe, on the same day—a warrant was granted against Morris at the same time that it was granted against the other defendants—I had searched for him at the address given, Gordon Lodge, Maida Vale, and could not find him—after the first hearing of the case Morris came to London and to the police—he was called by the Crown as a witness—his depositions were taken, and he was bound over to appear here—I have no reason to doubt that he has gone to South Africa; he is serving in the Yeomanry—I arrested Eccles and Haynes on February 5th—I went at 10.50 to 92, Wimpole Street, and in the front room on
the first-floor I saw Eccles—I told him I should arrest him, on a warrant granted at Bow Street, for conspiring with others to obtain from Her Majesty's Secretary of State, a certificate of naturalisation for Paget—he said, "Oh, very well"—I remained in the room, and at 11.20 Haynes walked in, and I told him what I had just told Eccles—he said, "This is all right for doing a man a good turn; I hardly know Paget; he is a silly old fool: I signed this because Abrahams told me it was only a matter of form"—Eccles said, "That is perfectly true; we were both told by Abrahams there was nothing in it, and it was only a matter of form, and do you mean to say we have got into any trouble over it?"—I said, "You are both prisoners, and I am going to take you to Bow Street, where you will meet Inspector Arrow, and he will read the warrant to you"—I took them to Bow Street.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. Morris gave his address at his father's house at Maida Vale, who, I believe, is a very well known man—Morris said he was in the Welsh Yeomanry, and was going to South Africa, but did not know when—I have been at Scotland Yard for three or three and a-half years—there are a fair share of these certificates handed to each officer—an officer who is not busy would take two or three at one time—I do not say I was disengaged at the time—I had never spoken to Abrahams before this inquiry—I had only seen him once before—I had never seen Paget before—it would take some time to make the inquiries—the authorities provide funds to drive about in cabs to make the inquiries where speed is necessary—I only asked Paget questions on one occasion; that was on December 1st, in Abrahams' office—I only saw him twice—he speaks English very well indeed—this book (Produced) that I made notes on is for my own guidance—the notes are not in order—I wrote the note of the interview with Paget and Abrahams about five minutes after the interview—I wrote it in Regent Street at a shop window—I walked round the corner of Great Marlborough Street, and I wrote it in the street, about three or four shops round the corner—it was a fine morning; I remember it well—I wrote it when my memory was fresh, in the entrance to a milliner's shop—I know I had not a mackintosh on on that day—money has never been offered to me to make inquiries quickly in a case of naturalisation—it has been paid as a gratuity and reported afterwards—we are not allowed to receive it—nothing was said about Paget paying expenses—it was to hasten inquiries that I was to see the men at Woodstock Street—when I went there I do not think I was there more than 15 minutes—the Deed Poll came from the Home Office with the other papers.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I have had a lot of these naturalisation inquiries—I have not Always kept a memorandum of the answers given by persons wanting to be natural sed—the earliest entry in this book is December 11th—I say it was not raining heavily when I made this note—Abrahams heard all that passed between Paget and myself—Paget did not give me £2 as he left the room and say, "I will make it a fiver if you get this through quickly for me"—I did not turn round to Abrahams as Paget went out and say, "Do you think he is good for his fiver?"—Abrahams did not say, "Oh, yes; I am sure he will, can you get it through quickly?"—I have been a police-officer 16 years—I have never received a gratuity except what I have reported.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. What I said to Morris I said to Haynes, word for word—I did not see Eccles the same day; when I did see him he was ill.
Re-examined. I refer to the records at Scotland Yard as a matter of course in some of these cases—I have never had anything to do with Abrahams before—it was not suggested at the Police-court or anywhere else that Paget gave me £2, or that Abrahams would make it a fiver—it has never been suggested before to-day that I asked Abrahams if Paget was good for £5—it was the fact of Abrahams offering me £5 which excited my suspicion—I reported the result of my inquiries on December 8th, 1899—I believe it was after I said that I must make the inquirie that Paget said he was going abroad.
VERNON JONES . I am an M.D., of 7, Arlington Street, and am in attendance on Eva Goldring—she is suffering from a spinal cord trouble—she could attend here, but it would be dangerous to her health; it would be the standing and the effort of giving evidence that might bring on a relapse.
EMILE GOURDE (Interpreted). I live at 30, Rue Moret, Paris, and am a manufacturer of buttons—in 1895 I entrusted some bills of exchange to a man to be discounted—Paget was afterwards charged and brought up in Court with fraud in connection with those bills—that was in the Correctional Court in Paris, the Ninth Chamber, in April, 1895—he was sentenced to 13 months' imprisonment—he was charged in the name of Loris Pages, otherwise Blutstein—he appealed to the Court of Appeal.
CHARLES PEMBO . I am an interpreter and translator, of Broad Court Chambers and Bow Street—this document of April 6th. 1895, is a Judgment in the Ninth Chamber of the Civil Tribunal of the First Instance, and the document produced at the Police-court is a correct translation—it shows that Alfonse Blutstein, otherwise Alfred Paget, was charged with fraud in relation to some bills of exchange, and also charged with infraction of the decree of expulsion from France—the decree of expulsion is dated September 29th, 1877—he was sentenced to 13 months' imprisonment and fined 50 francs—the Judgment of the Court of Appeal (Produced) is dated June 15th, 1895, and it appears that Blutstein appealed from the judgment of the Correctional Court, and the Court allowed his appeal so far as the conviction for embezzlement was concerned, and confirmed the judgment relating to the breach of the decree of expulsion, and reduced the sentence on that Count to six months' imprisonment—this document (produced) shows that the judgment of the Civil Tribunal of First Instance is dated June, 1877, from which it appears that Alfonse Blutstein was charged with fraud and embezzlement and fraudulent bankruptcy and sentenced to three years' imprisonment—the judgment of the Court of Appeal (Produced), dated July 14th, 1877, shows that he appealed against that judgment, and the Court dismissed the appeal.
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. His age is not given here—I see that he took the matter to the Court of Cassation on September 29th, 1879, and the remainder of his sentence was cancelled.
the presence of the prisoners—they each of them had an opportunity of cross-examining her.
JAMES STOCKLEY (Sergeant). I was at Bow Street, and heard Eva Goldring give her evidence—I have been this morning to see her at 4, Brvanstone Mansions, and also saw Dr. Jones. (MR. C. F. GILL submitted that the RECORDER had the power to allow only part of the depositions of Eva Goldring to be read, as the defence had not opportunity to cross examine the witness, and he submitted that the last paragraph of he evidence should be omitted. The RECORDER ruled that he had the discretion to exclude part of the deposition. The deposition was therefore-read, with the exception of the last paragraph.) (Read: "I live at 4, Bryanstone Mansions, Baker Street. In the beginning of November, 1899, I made the acquaintance of a man named Don Watson. He sold me a pair of horses and a carriage. I afterwards met him at Brighton, and I came from Brighton with him to the office of the defendant Abrahams, in Great Marlborough Street, for the purpose of getting a formal receipt for the money I had paid for the carriage and horses. This was towards the end of November. I saw Bernard Abrahams then for the first time, and while I was waiting I also saw Mr. Paget. I had seen him before. I did not speak to him. Watson introduced Abrahams to me. I went to Abrahams' office more than once after that day with Watson, and I saw Paget there on other days. Watson told me that Paget was trying to get naturalised. Watson traded under the name of Vivian Blackwell. I afterwards, about November 24th, went to Paris with Don Watson. Early in December, I think in the first week, I saw Abrahams and Paget together in Paris. I saw them at the Cafe de Paris on a Saturday and a Sunday night. They were together on both occasions. Abrahams joined me and Watson, and we went to the Cafe Americain and the Cafe Maxime. Abrahams said he was staying at the Hotel Ritz, and that Paget was also staying there. He said that Paget had something to do with a company, and was 'doing' somebody, and Watson asked Abrahams how much he was going to get out of it, and suggested that Paget would put Abrahams off with a few hundreds, and Abrahams said, 'Not if I know it.' I made a statement to Inspector Arrow on January 5th last which he took down in writing, and that statement was as nearly as possible correct. I have been ill since then, and my memory has rather failed me since. I did not see Paget in Paris after that Sunday night. I think I saw Abrahams on the next day, Monday; I was with Watson at the time. Abrahams said he might leave that night for London. When I first saw Abrahams at his office in London he said, 'It would be as well for us to go to Paris.' He said Paget had been in Paris, at the Hotel Ritz, and had made a lot of money in Paris, about £40,000; he did not say how, but that he had made it in a few weeks. I know Abrahams said in Paris something not in Paget's praise, to the effect that Paget had not treated him well in the way he spoke to him; but I cannot now remember what he said about Paget. I signed the statement that I made to Inspector Arrow after he had read it over to me.
Cross-examined for Paget: I was about a fortnight in Paris. We saw them supping on the Sunday night at the Cafe de Paris; there were a good many people there
and we went afterwards to Maxime's, and went on from there to the Cafe Americain; that would be about 2.30 a.m. I do not remember at what time we went home. Watson and Abrahams and myself drove together from one cafe to the other. I think it was the first week in December. I had been in Paris once before. Cross-examined for Abrahams: I saw Mr. Abrahams altogether twice in London and three times in Paris. I first went to Abrahams' office about the receipt, and to consult him about a woman who was claiming the horses I had bought, and was annoying me. She had tried to prevent the horses leaving the stables; that was her only annoyance. I did not instruct Mr. Abrahams to act for me; I had my own solicitor. Mr. Abrahams was Watson's solicitor. My meeting with Mr. Abrahams at the Cafe de Paris was accidental, as far as I know. There were two or three other gentlemen with Abrahams at the time. Re-examined: Watson showed no surprise on meeting Abrahams in Paris. The day I saw them in Paris was probably Sunday, December 3rd. I never heard the name of the company in Paris that Paget was doing business with. Cross-examined for Abrahams: Mr. Abrahams, in Paris, advised me to place myself in the hands of Messrs. Cook, the tourist agents, who would see me safely back with my horses to London. I have not seen Abrahams since. Re-examined: Abrahams gave me this advice in consequence of something that Watson had done. I told Abrahams what Watson had done; he had stabled my horses in his own name in Paris, and then claimed them as his, and I had to go to a French Court about it...."
FRANK KNELL (Police Sergeant). I went with Sergeant Mew to 2, Woodstock Street on the evening of December 1st—I saw Paget, Abrahams, Haynes and Morris there, and Abrahams' clerk—I was present when Mew questioned Morris and Haynes, and I saw Mew write down the answers—I did not make a note myself—Abrahams' clerk said, "I have known Paget 10 years; I can vouch for his respectability"—Abrahams said, "Mr. Paget is one of the best, and I can assure you he has always a good glass of wine."
Cross-examined by MR. GILL. Wine was on the table and also cigars.
CHARLES ARROW (Police Inspector). On January 31 st I received a warrant for the arrest of the defendants, which also included Morris—on February 5th, in consequence of some communication by Paget, I went to 30, George Street, IIanover Square—I saw Paget, and told him I held a warrant for his arrest—I read it to him—he said, "I know nothing about that; I instructed my solicitor, Mr. Abrahams, I left it to him; he must answer for that; I have been in England 20 years, and I wish to become an Englishman"—we then left for Marlborough Mews Police-station—on the way he said, "When one of your men explained the matter to me I said to Abrahams, 'What have you done? this is a serious matter;' and he said, 'I will take all responsibility'"—the same morning I went to 22, Great Marlborough Street, where I saw Abrahams—I said, "I have a warrant for your arrest"—I read it to him—he said, "I should have thought a summons would have done, I am not going to run away; I wish to say I am innocent, I have a perfect answer to the charge"—later in the same day Haynes and Eccles were brought to Bow Street by Sergeant Mew, and I charged all of them—Abrahams said, "I wish to say I
am perfectly innocent of the charge"—Paget said, "I am perfectly innocent of the charge; all that I did swear was true"—the other two defendants said, "I wish to say the same"—later in the same day Eccles said, "I used to carry on business as a commission agent at 2, Woodstock Street, in the name of Goodall"—I knew Paget before that—on January 25th, 1899, I arrested him on a warrant charging him with fraud—he was brought up the same day at Marlborough Street Police-court before Mr. De Rutzen—Abrahams appeared for him as his solicitor—the case was remanded for a week—Abrahams applied for bail for Paget—the Magistrate appealed to me in the usual way—I said. "I object to bail; the prisoner is known to the police," and bail was refused—on February 1st Paget was brought up on remand, and again remanded for a week; no evidence was taken—before he was remanded I saw Mr. Newton for the prosecution and Mr. Abrahams for the defence conferring, and an application was made by one of them to the Magistrate, and the case again remanded—Paget was not present then; he was brought up afterwards and formally remanded—after that Abrahams said to me in the backyard of the Court, "Why object to bail, Arrow?" or something to that effect—I said to him, "The man has been convicted in Paris, and is a swindler"—I do not think Abrahams said anything to that—Paget was subsequently released on bail—I have ascertained that from the books at the Police-court—I was not consulted between February 1st and the 4th, when he was admitted to bail—on February 8th Paget appeared at the Police-court; prosecutor failed to appear, and he was discharged—the charge sheet was marked, "No prosecutor"—since then I have seen Paget about London, and also Abrahams—I have seen them in company—I have seen them together in Great Marlborough Street at Abrahams' office, at the Cafe Verry in Regent Street, in the Cafe Royal, Regent Street, in the Pavilion Music Hall, and about the streets in the West-end and the City—I met them in Fleet Street in a cab.
Cross-examined by MR.GILL. I had seen Paget before January 25th, 1899, but I do not remember having spoken to him—I arrested him on a warrant granted on the information sworn by a man named Pearlman—I did not know Pearlman till then—I never saw him again after he had been cross-examined at Marlborough Street, to my knowledge—I was the officer in the case—I have no record about Pearlman—he was cross-examined as to whether he had been convicted—no application was made at that time for the discharge of Paget—I subsequently learned that he had been admitted, to bail in two sureties of £50 each—I never saw Abrahams and Paget in each other's company before January 25th, 1899, that I am aware of—there is no officer in charge of this present case superior to myself—I have heard that Paget was interested in a company—I do not know that the name of it was the Anglo-French Syndicate, Limited—I believe I heard the name at Bow Street—I have not made any inquiry about it—I do not know that Paget wanted this matter carried through quickly, as he was going abroad—I have heard that he wanted to go to China, but I forget who I heard it from—I did not hear Paget say so—I have seen Paget and Abrahams together at the Pavilion twice—I cannot give you the dates—I think the Cafe Verry is tne nearest cafe to Abrahams' office—I have seen them there together more than six times—I learned
that they had been in Paris together in December—I had no conversation with Paget about this case till I arrested him—I went to his house in Woodstock Street—I was well known to his wife, who told me he was in Paris, and she gave me his address—she said she expected him home the next day—I called the next day, and so on for nearly a week—when he returned he sent me a telegram, and I went and saw him and arrested him.
Cross-examined by MR. HALL. I have known Abrahams as practising at Marlbordugh Street and Bow Street, and other Courts, for some years—I think I can swear that Abrahams did not get up and claim Paget's discharge at Marlborough Street—the Magistrate did not say, "No; I remand him for another week, and if the prosecutor does not then attend I will discharge him"—the conversation with Abrahams took place between 11 and 12.
Cross-examined by MR. SYMONDS. I did not have inquiries made about Haynes and Eccles.
Re-examined. I had no notice that the application for bail was going to be made on February 4th—a letter was received both by the Magistrate and by Mr. Newton from the prosecutor on the remand.
(MR. SYMONDS submitted that there was no evidence of conspiracy against Haynes and Eccles. The RECORDER ruled that the case must go to the JURY. MR. GILL submitted that there was no case to go to the JURY with regard to Paget on the Fourth Count, as there was no evidence that his declaration was false. MR. AVORY contended that as Paget alleged that he had resided at 2, Woodstock Street for nine years, which was untrue, there was a case to go to the JURY. The RECORDER agreed—MR. HALL submitted that with regard to Counts 6 and 7, the Sandbrook incident, there was no evidence, as upon Sandbrook's own evidence no perjury was committed, and Abrahams did not incite him. The RECORDER agreed that there was no case on Count 6 against Abrahams).
Abrahams, in his defence on oath, said that he believed Paget to be a respectable man; that he was never told by Arrow that he had been convicted; that he did not know the certificate was of such importance, and that he got the signatures as a matter of form. He admitted that he had been guilty of gross carelessness, but of nothing criminal.
Haynes, in his defence, on oath, said that when he signed the declaration he honestly believed Paget was a respectable man, that he signed it as a matter of form, and did not get anything for doing so.
Eccles, in his defence, on oath, said that he was innocent of having done anything wrong in signing the declaration.
PAGET— GUILTY of making a false declaration. ABRAHAMS— GUILTY on all the Counts except Count 6 (subornation of perjury) HAYNES and ECCLES— NOT GUILTY . PAGET, Three Months; and ABRAHAMS, Six Months, both in the second division.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
ARTHUR EDWARD WILLIAMS . I live at 5, Craven Buildings, Newcastle Street, Strand—I am advertisement clerk to Dalton's Weekly Advertiser, of 149, Strand—on October 21st the prisoner dictated this advertisement to me: "Wanted, to take baby girl between 3 and 4. Nice home. References given.—Address, H. H., 295, Strand"—replies came, which I handed to the prisoner—that was the old address, before 295 was taken over by the London County Council—shortly before November 11th I wrote this other advertisement at his dictation, which was published on November 11th, to which replies came, and which I handed him: "Matrimony.—Wanted, by an American gentleman, a wife who will be willing to make America her home. He has independent means; beautiful home; looks and figure mostly desired. Travels four months out of the year.—Musgrove, 295, Strand, W.C."
FRANK FREDERICK HOLLEMBY . I am a clerk in the AccountantGeneral's Office of the General Post Office—I produce an original telegram, dated, November 30th, which was handed in at the South-Western District Office at 2.38 p.m., in these words:—"Mr. and Mrs. Onequi, 107, Brownhill Road, Catford. Congratulations of marriage. Thanksgiving Day.—JUDGE GILMORE."
GLADYS LILIAN FENTON . I live now at 19, Foredale Road, Catford—I am single, and 22 years of age—I was a barmaid in 1898—I had an illegitimate child, a girl—in November, 1899, I was living at 107, Brownhill Road Catford, with my child, where I let lodgings—I had two tenants—the father of the child put me into that house to make my living and support my child—Nurse Roper attended me in my confinement—I afterwards allowed her to have a plate on my door as a midwife—she was a great friend—I saw the advertisement in Dalton's Weekly Advertiser of November 11th, for a wife by an American gentleman—I replied to it, and sent my photograph—I received this answer: "Miss L. G. Fenton—Yours received, and will ask if it would be convenient for me to call on Saturday evening at 8 p.m? Trusting that this letter meets with approval, and also state whether, if mutually so disposed, a speedy marriage might be arranged, as I wish to go to Paris and Nice, and thought of taking bride with me before returning to America. Now please just state your mind. I am no trifler, and trust you are not. I believe you to be sincere. Also state whether you like travelling. Trust early reply, I beg to remain yours truly,HENRY MOSGROVE"—I answered by telegram, appointing
Saturday, November 18th—the prisoner came about 8 p.m.—I let him in—I asked him into the sitting room—we were alone—he said he had little to tell me, and, if I was satisfied, would I be his wife?"—I said, "Yes"—he said he had met a woman two years ago, and he wanted me to represent her, as he wanted to take me to his people in America, and to say that my child was the child of this woman—I had told him that I had a child—he said, "All the better," and asked, "Do you think the child would pass for mine?"—I said, "It is quite possible"—he said he was an American, that he had independent means and a beautiful home; and I was to go to his friends in America after the marriage—I believed his statements—he asked if the furniture in my house was my own—I said, "Yes"—then he asked to see the child—I said it was too late; he could call the next day—I received this letter of November 20th—(Addressed: "My dearest Lilian," professing great attachment to the witness and her child; speaking of going to see the Consul to arrange for the marriage, and concluding: "Now, my darling, I will finish this episode, concluding with three dozen kisses. Perhaps you prefer them on paper, but all right. Give sweetheart two dozen and a squeeze from me. Give regards of the kindest to nurse. Your loving and devoted fiance, HENRY. Don't forget the kisses"—this was succeeded by his visit in the evening, when he saw the child—he was very pleased with it—I left him alone with it—I returned to the room—he left—on the 2lst he came again—he said he had been to the Consul to arrange for a special licence for the marriage; and to the Registrar, and found he could not be married for three weeks, and he could not wait, because he had to go to Paris; that we would go to the Consul's house to be married, and then that we would go away the same night to America; that we were going to travel to Paris, Nice, and several other places afterwards—I next received this letter, dated November 23rd, 12.15 a.m., addressed "My darling, sweetest Lilian"—(This stated that he had been to Windsor to see the Emperor, and he was detained by an accident to the train in returning, but would call that day, and concluded: "Now I am going to bed; not to sleep, but to roll and toss in my bed, and think what a wretch I have been to leave the City when my darling was waiting for me. Will see you if you have no objection to-day. Yours, with love and kisses,HENRY")—"sweetheart" referred to the child—he came that day, and said he would be married in a few days—the "nurse" he refers to was Mrs. Roper—I next received this letter of September 26th—(Stating that he had seen "Council," and thought he could arrange a special licence, and adding, "Oh, Lilian, do not never trifle with me, I think it would kill me. Now, dear, if you would rather, I will not request an early marriage, but will take you and baby, and you can get a nurse or lady travelling companion, off to the Continent for two months, and will agree never to treat you in any other way than a lady, and not to trespass on you, and try and get you to learn to love me, although it would not be my wish; but still, if you are my darling wife, and I love you as only a true husband could, it would be death to me if I knew my love had no love for me, and nothing but true respects; it seems as if the blow would be harder than death")—he told me to send letters to 91, Waterloo Road—we discussed his proposal to go on the
Continent, and I said, "No," and that I preferred staying in my own house till I was married—after that he came on November 29th, about 8 p.m., with a man whom he called Judge Gilmore—Nurse Roper was with me—Judge Gilmore said, "Are you the mother of Henry Onequi's child?"—I said, "Oh, yes"—he said, "Will you take 22,000 dols. and give Henry up?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Will you become an American citizen?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Then I am prepared to marry you now"—he read something off a blue paper, which sounded like a marriage ceremony—I remember he said, "Will you take Henry Onequi as your wedded husband?" and I said, "Yes"—he put a similar question to the prisoner, who said, "Yes"—the prisoner said, "I have not the ring"—the Judge said, "It does not matter about the ring; any time will do for the ring"—he said something about man and wife which I cannot particularise—he produced a document—the prisoner signed his Dame, and I signed mine—Nurse Roper signed it, and he signed it—he took it away with him after he had had refreshment and wished us happiness, and said, "You must have a little dinner with me before you go away"—he did not say where or when—the prisoner stayed till about 11 p.m.—when he left he said he would bring the ring with him the next day—I believed his name was Henry Musgrove Oneque—he explained some time before the marriage that it was not his name that he advertised in—he came on the 30th, but he said nothing about the ring—he left about 11 p.m.—on the 30th this telegram came, which I opened and showed the prisoner when he came in: "Mr. and Mrs. Onegue, 107, Brownhill, Catford. Congratulations of marriage. Thanksgiving Day. JUDGE GILMORE"—he came again on December 1st—he asked me to go to an hotel with him—I said, "No, I prefer to stay in my own house until we go away for good"—I said, "You had better stay at my house till we go"—that night he stayed and slept with me—I believed I was his lawfully wedded wife, or else he would never have stayed there—he remained through December—he said he had sent his luggage on—he was always waiting for it—when he came in he asked whether it had come—it never came—he said it had gone to Stratford instead of Catford—I paid the household expenses—he had no money—he said he was waiting for his money to come from America—early in December I told him I thought it was very strange I did not have a marriage certificate—he said, "Oh, very well, I will see about it," but that it was not the usual thing in America—I said it was the usual thing here—then this paper came addressed to me in this envelope, which I opened—the prisoner was at home when it arrived—he said, "This is the first time I have had my letters opened by anyone else"—I said, "I have a right to open it"—I showed him the certificate—he asked the nurse to sign her name at the bottom of it—she signed it—I locked it up—I believed it to be a genuine certificate of marriage—there was a mistake in the name, which was "Omequi" instead of "Onequi"—the prisoner said he would take it when we went to dinner at the Consul's—that is Judge Gilmore's—(This document was a stationer's form, commencing in large German text "This Indenture," upon which was written "Emergent Certificate. London, 1st December, 1899. This is to certify that Henry Mosgrove Onequi and Gladys Lilian Fenton were invited by me in Holy
Wedlock this 29th day of November, 1899. JOHN WILLIAM GILMORE. Sworn before me (Seal),U.S. AMBASSADOR. Witness (Seal),FREDERICK C. M. C. KINLEY; (Seal)EMMA SARAH ROPER." Two one cent American stamps were attached. The envelope was addressed:" Mrs. Henry Onequi, 107, Brownhill Road, Catford, London,"and typewritten on the back, "If not delivered, please return to U.S. Ambassador, 12, St. Helen's Place, London")—shortly afterwards I was taken ill—I had to take to my bed for about five weeks—I was seen by doctors—one, Dr. Hulbert, was brought by the prisoner—I was in great pain—I had a little money; I had my lodgers, and had not left the house—the prisoner remained, and slept with me—he said he was waiting for his money, and could not go to America at that time—before I was taken ill he said, "You do not want two homes; what are you going to do with the home?"—I said, "You say you have a beautiful home, and do not want the money, I prefer to give the furniture to my friend Nurse Roper"—he said, "Very well; if you think her friend enough, give if her;" so I give her everything—some time after he proposed that Mrs. Roper should go with us, and that we should sell the furniture, or get a bill of sale upon it, and he undertook to see it through, and she was to have the money, and make a fourth of the party to go to America—about February 5th, 1900, when I had been out of bed about a fortnight, the prisoner's luggage not having come, and no money coming he said, "I will take furnished rooms; we will be there a fortnight, and then will go to Paris"—Mrs. Roper was not to be of that party—one bedroom of furniture had been left for my use when I was ill, and the dealers wanted to take that away, and would not wait any longer—all had been sold and paid for—I know it, because he told me, and we were going away on the Saturday—my lodgers had gone—we went on February 5th into furnished lodgings at 86, New Cross Road, with the child—Mrs. Roper was living with her father—I took some few things which I gave the prisoner no authourity to sell or deal with, including two rings, a picture, a tea-tray, feather bed, bolster, and three pillows, and a mahogany paste-board—this is my property (Produced)—I missed it from the lodgings—the prisoner asked me to show him my rings—I showed them to him—I never saw any more of them—I showed him this gold ring—on February 15th he was absent, and I left the lodgings, leaving this picture, the tea-tray, and the paste-board—I gave information to the police, and the prisoner was arrested.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I left my employment as a barmaid two years ago—the child will be two years old on April 29th—I had been living at 107, Brownhill Road, two months when I left you—I was keeping a boarding-house in another part of the City—I did not tell you when I first met you that I had no money—I had ✗40 in the bank when you came to me, and I laid it out on clothes that I did not want but for getting married—then I owed £4 for furniture—all the furniture in the house was paid for except one room out of ten—I told you I owned the home, and I did—that was the first night we went out, when you asked me—you did not advise me to sell the furniture and put the money in the bank for the baby—I said, "Henry, if you have not got a home for me, be straightforward and tell me, and do not let the rest of the things go"—after the things had been sold
you sent a telegram not to let Smith, a dealer, have them, but we could not stop them, because Smith had paid for them, and I did not know it—on December 10th, when you went away for two days—when I was first taken sick you had gone from the house three days—you sent me three letters—we did not talk of going to Scotland to be married—you told me I could inquire of your friends, but you gave me no address—you showed me your photograph, which you said was signed, "Sir Henry Onequi"—I did not say I was getting tired of waiting to be married—you did not tell me that the American Consul and Minister was going to find out whether he could not perform the marriage—I did not know when the marriage was to be, you said you did not—when Judge Gilmore came you were excited and nervous, and consulted Mrs. Roper, who told you the Judge would tell you what to say—I did not say I was not dressed for it—I was always dressed at that time—I said if you had come the evening before I would not have been married, because I had on a black dress—after the marriage you told, me you had no idea it was to be the marriage—you said Thanksgiving Day was a great day, and Americans liked to keep it up—you told me you had bought me things, but I never had them—you talked after the marriage about expecting money from America—you brought the men to look at the furniture—Roper received £5, and paid bills with it—I believed you to be a wealthy man, or I should never have gone with you—you said always you were waiting for your money, you never said you were without money—you said you expected money one day, and were going to work in the evening—I did not know you had gone to pledge my ring—I asked you what you had done with my rings, and if you had sold or pledged them, and if you had pledged them to give me the tickets—you said Mr. Wright, the tobacconist, had them—you gave me some tickets—I did not know one was for your cape—you told me a man had pledged that and an umbrella for you—I did not tell you to pledge my ring for 15s.—I did not roll up a table cloth and an overcoat for you to pledge—I did not give you receipts to show it was a brand new cloth—I was called Mrs. Fenton; I did not say whether I was married or single—I did not say my husband was a travelling man I said, "If you stay here you will have to speak to the lodgers, because they will think it strange for a man to be in the house with me"—I told you to represent yourself us Mr. Fenton—I got nothing for the place—the landlady objected to Mrs. Roper using the house as a business place—I did not give the landlady notice—we stayed on after Christmas, thinking we were going to America shortly—you said you would take me to the Consul, but you never offered to take me—I was not sick all the time, and we moved to New Cross Road—I do not know what you cooked; you never gave me anything to eat there—you did some work in the house when I was unable to work—I did not pay the rent, neither did you, but you offered the landlady a bad note, which she refused to pass through the bank.
Re-examined. This is the photograph which the prisoner showed me—I did not look at the back.
emanate from that office—it is a bogus document except the stamps, which are genuine American postage stamps.
Cross-examined. American Judges, and even Justices of the Peace, may solemnise marriages in America, according to the laws of the States, which vary in each State—they cannot do so in England.
FRANCIS WILLIAM FRIGOUT . I am Deputy Consul-General to the United States of America—my Consulate is at 12, St. Helen's Place—no John William Gilmore or Judge Gilmore has been connected with the Consulate for more than 25 years—I do not know any Frederick C. Kinley as connected with the Consulate—I know none of these persons whose signatures are on this document—it does not emanate from my office.
EMMA SARAH ROPER . I am married—I live with my father at 19, Fordale Road, Catford—I am a certificated nurse—I attended Miss Fenton in her confinement in 1898—I have been friendly with her since—in November last I had communications with her with regard to proposals which had been made to her—I became aware that a marriage had been arranged between her and Onequi—I was present on November 29th, when Judge Gilmore came to the house in Brownhill Road, and a ceremony was gone through—the Judge produced a paper, which I signed, and he took away after the prisoner and Miss Fenton had signed it—from what had been said I believed it to be a genuine marriage ceremony—from about December 1st I know the prisoner lived in the house as the husband of this young lady—he remained till February 5th at that house and in lodgings till February 16th this year—he told me his people were cotton and tobacco planters, of Richmond, Virginia—that was both before and after the marriage—he said he had been in business at 1244, The Broadway, New York, as a broker, in the name of Sir Henry Onequi—he showed me this photograph, on the back of which is written "Sir Henry Onequi, formerly of 1244, The Broadway, New York"—he said he inherited that title from his grandfather, who was English—he told me later that he had followed the profession of a palmist—he looked at our palms and foretold our destinies—I was present when this certificate arrived on December 13th—the prisoner handed it to me, and I signed it—Miss Fenton took it—I believed it was genuine—Miss Fenton became ill—I examined the prisoners linen, and found a peculiar discharge upon it—they were to go to America, and I was to have the furniture—it was afterwards arranged that I was to go, but the furniture was still to be mine—the prisoner was to sell it for me—on January 9th Mr. Smith came to see the furniture, which was arranged to be sold for 10 guineas—the prisoner told me not to take less than 7 guineas, and it was arranged to be sold for 8 guineas, as we were going away, and Mr. Smith would not give more—there were nine rooms—I received two payments of £4 and £5 10s., with which I paid bills—the arrangements fell through—I brought her away from her lodgings on February 15th, and took her to my father's house—I communicated with the police—the prisoner came to my father's house and asked for the certificate—I said he could not have it—Miss Fenton had given it to me before she moved from the Brownhill Road—she was very delicate and weak from the want of food,
Cross-examined. You showed me a card, and said you had been to the Registry to arrange for the Consul to marry you—I was at Miss Fenton's every evening—I was living at my father's—Miss Fenton allowed me to put up my plate—I did not stay there at night till after you were married, if I was called in—you did not ask to postpone the marriage—Judge Gilmore said he was ready—you mentioned that you had money troubles, but I do not remember when—you were always speaking about Mr. Hayes—Miss Fenton bought a lot of things, thinking she was going to America with you—I could have got the house, but you said I was to go to America—I did not offer you half of £3 10s. which was paid for some furniture, but I asked if you wanted any money, and you borrowed half-a-crown—you sent word not to let Smith have the goods, but the people were waiting outside for them, and I told you I was bound to let Mr. Smith have the goods, because they were paid for—I had the bedroom suite, but not all the articles in this list—
By the JURY. Judge Gilmore was a fair man, with long hair and baldheaded—the ceremony did not strike me as not being real—the man was respectable in dress and outward appearance.
THOMAS HARPER . I am assistant to Mr. William Harper, a pawn broker, of 7, Market Buildings, Oatfotd—on February 5th this sapphire ring was pledged with Mr. Harper by the prisoner in the name of John Wheeler for 15s.—this is the duplicate.
Cross-examined. The nurse called me in—I understood you were acting for her on the sale—I supposed you were Mrs. Fenton's husband—she was in the room when I took down the bedstead and when I took away the carpet on February 5.
Re-examined. I had been called through Mrs Roper to those premises on January 9th—the prisoner offered the furniture for £10—I agreed to give £8 8s.—I paid a deposit of 10s., and took the prisoner's receipt for that amount—he negotiated the sale—on January 11th he came to my shop two or three times—on that day I went with him to the bank, and paid the balance of the 8 guineas—he gave me a receipt in the name of Fenton—on January 13th I removed a quantity of furniture, leaving one bedroom of furniture, where Miss Fenton was—on February 5th the prisoner and I were alone in the room—Mrs. Fenton gave no authority, in my hearing, for the sale of the bed, bolster, and pillows.
By the Prisoner. Mrs. Fenton knew you had come for the furniture.
JAMES ROBERTS . I am assistant to Mr. Jarvis, pawnbroker, of 708, Old Kent Road—on February 9th a gold ring was pledged at our shop for 2s. 6d. by the prisoner in the name of ✗. Wheeler, 2, Court Road—I was present.
Cross-examined. I did not tell the prisoner the address made no difference.
ROSANNA DUNGAY . I am the wife of John Dungay, and let lodgings at 86, New Cross Road—on February 5th the prisoner took furnished apartments there for himself, wife, and child—the three came later in the day, and remained till February 16th—the prisoner remained till the
morning of the 17th—after breakfast I saw him leave the house—he had a tea-tray, a picture, and a board—the picture was covered—those produced are the sort of things.
Cross-examined. You asked me to look into the room to see if I missed anything, and I looked round and said, "No"—then you came down into the lower part of the house and said, "I want you to see what I have here; I only want what belongs to my wife"—after that you went away with the things—Mrs. Fenton left on the 16th, after 9 or 10—a man came for her, whom I took to be her father—I was not aware that she was sick, but she did not go out.
JAMES NEWMAN . I am a furniture and teak dealer, of 79, High Street, Deptford—on February 17th the prisoner brought me a paste-board, a papier-mache tea-tray, and a picture—I sold the tea-tray for 1s. 3d.—the prisoner said he wanted to raise a few shillings to get to London, that he had been out of employment six months, and he wanted to see a theatrical manager, as he was in the theatrical profession—he told me it was his own property, and showed me a receipt for his rent to December 25th—I bought the things for 2s.
FRANK PIKE (Policeman, P). On February 18th I saw the prisoner at 86, New Cross Road—I said, "I am a police-officer, and shall arrest you for stealing a quantity of property belonging to a Miss Fenton, with whom it is alleged you have gone through a bogus form of marriage"—he said, "All right"—I conveyed him to Lewisham Police-station—on the way he said, "I admit I have taken some of her things without her knowledge, but some of them she told me I could pledge; about that marriage, I never wrote out the certificate; it was a man whom I do not know anything about; if I know where he lived I would tell you"—he was charged with stealing the articles the subject of the indictment—the charge was read over to him by the officer on duty—he made no reply—he afterwards said, "I am going to clear myself. The man that wrote the certificate keeps an office in Victoria Street, on the left going down from West-minster. I am sorry I have wronged the woman; I knew I had a disease on me, but I did not know I gave it to her"—I searched him, but found not a farthing.
Cross-examined. I took notes immediately afterwards.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he was deceived, and offered to go through another ceremony of marriage with the prosecutrix, but she was too ill to go out; that he advised her to have the furniture sold, and the money invested for the baby, that he was expecting money from America, where he had had financial troubles, and had been arrested and discharged, and had defended a civil action; and that he had looked for "Judge" Gilmore, but could not find him; that he had made a full breast of everything, and had acted in good faith.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell in August. 1890, in the name of Evans Wheeler. There was another conviction against him in 1898, and the police stated that similar and other offences had been committed by him in New York and other places.— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Recorder.
280. BERNARD WAINMAN (28) PLEADED GUILTY to forging an order for the payment of £10, and another order for £2; also to unlawfully obtaining from Henry Duffield £10, and from Minnie Harvey £2 15s. 6d., in each case with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months in the second division . And
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 30TH, 1900.