CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
EIGHTH SESSION, HELD MAY 21ST, 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, May 21st, 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 Judges of Her Majesty's High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON, Bart., M.P., LL.D., F.S.A., Sir GEORGE F. FAUDEL PHILLIPS, Bart., G.C.I.E., Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, Knt., Q.C., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt.; JOHN POUND , Esq.; JOHN CHARLES BELL, 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. LANG✗TON, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
NEWTON, MAYOR. EIGHTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, May 21st, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
331. GEORGE WEBSTER (29) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a bicycle, the property of Percy George Fox, having been convicted at Canterbury on January 3rd, 1893. Three other convictions were proved against him.—Nine Months' Hard Labour.
332. WILLIAM MITCHELL (46) , to stealing a watch from Charles William Frederick Jones, having been convicted on June 17th, 1895. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Four other convictions were proved against him.— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
333. MILLIE KILMER (20) , to forging an order for the payment of 15s., with intent to defraud; also to forging and uttering a receipt for 1s., knowing it to be forged; also to forging and uttering a receipt for 5s., with intent to defraud; having been convicted at Lancaster on July 31st, 1897.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months in the second division.
334. JAMES HAWTHORNE (24) , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, a post letter, the property of H.M. Postmaster-General.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months in the second division. And
(335) ALBERT LINDRIDGE (54) , to forging and uttering a deed of conveyance, with intent to defraud; also to deceitfully personating John Rhimes, with intent to defraud; having been convicted on November 4th, 1895. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Seven other convictions were proved against him.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted.
GUSTAV SCHMITZER . I am a clerk at De Keyser's Royal Hotel—on the afternoon of April 27th the prisoner came into the office where I was—he said he wanted a room—he had no luggage—the managing director came in, and I heard the prisoner tell him that his luggage was to come on—I then gave him a room.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. From your conversation with the managing director, I thought you had been to the hotel before.
room, and I referred him to the reception office—he had no luggage with him—later in the day the last witness told me in the prisoner's presence that the prisoner's luggage was coming later on—I then took him up to a room.
CARL SALER . I am the general manager of De Keyser's Royal Hotel—on Saturday, April 28th, I saw the prisoner in the luncheon room; I made inquiries and then gave instructions with reference to his bill—when he came out of the luncheon room the hall-porter presented his bill to him by my instructions—I was near and heard that no money was forthcoming—I spoke to the cashier, and then the prisoner asked if I was manager—I said that I was—he seemed to be rather offended that he was presented with the bill, and I said that I had sent it to him and wished it paid—I asked him to come to my office, which he did—I told him I wished him to pay the bill—he said he could not pay before his luggage arrived—I said that he had told us that his luggage would arrive the day that he had come; that I wanted a deposit, would he give me his watch and chain? he said he would do nothing of the kind—I gave him into custody—the amount of the bill was £1 1s. 6d.
Cross-examined. You said you had been in, the hotel before; you said if I looked in the books I should find your name—I said I had not got time to do so—we can present bills when we like; it is placarded up in the bedrooms that bills are presented once a week.
WILLIAM MATHEWS (City Detective.) On Saturday, April 28th, I had two cloak-room tickets given me—I went with one of them to the Cannon Street Station, it referred to a parcel which I found contained a dirty shirt and collar (Produced)—the other ticket referred to a parcel at Liverpool Street Station, which also contained a dirty shirt and collar (Produced)—after that I saw the prisoner, and asked him if it was any good my going to Portsmouth to make inquiries at an address he had given me there—he said, "No, it is false."
ALFRED LUCAS (195,City.) A little after 3 p.m. on April 28th I was called to De Keyser's Royal Hotel, where the prisoner was given into my custody, charged with obtaining food and lodgings by fraud—he said he would have paid them if they had asked him for the money when he went there on the Friday—I took him to the station and searched him, and found on him 1 1/2 d., a brown metal chain, a new purse, a pair of gloves, a screwdriver, a knife, a tin tobacco-box, a pipe, and a comb, also two cloak-room tickets, which I handed to the last witness—I also found a pawn-ticket for an overcoat.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that he did not intend any fraud; that he took the room in an open manner, and went in and out while he was there; that if he had been asked for a deposit when he went there he could and would have given it, and that he could and would have paid later on.
GUILTY .— Five previous convictions were proved against him.—Ten Months' Hard Labour.
337. EDWIN AMBROSE EDWARDS (15), PERCY RUSHTON (15), JOSEPH HUSKINSON (18), and JOHN HARGILL (17) , Stealing two carpets, the property of Arthur Taylor, the master of Edwards, to which EDWARDS PLEADED GUILTY . Second Count: Receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen.
MR. DRUMMOND prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL defended Huskinson.
CHARLES SMITH (City Policeman.) From instructions I received, I went on April 30th to Bow Common Lane, where Edwards lives—I saw him, and in consequence of what I heard on May 1st I went to 102, Newgate Street, the premises of Messrs. Woodman, Grover, Limited, and also of Mr. Taylor, the prosecutor—I saw the three prisoners—I was with two other officers—I said, "We are police officers, and I have a lad named Edwards in custody"—he had made a statement to me in reference to some carpets which I had arrested him for stealing—I read this statement he had made to the prisoners: "Percy has had two carpets, for which he has paid me 15s., and I am not certain whether he has had one or two pairs of lace curtains. Joseph"—that is, I believe, Huskinson—"has had one carpet, for which he gave me 6s. 6d.; he has had either two or three pairs of white curtains; these two have had the silk curtains and the quarter carpets between them; Jack Hargill has had one carpet, for which he has paid me 6s. 6d."—Huskinson replied, "I have everything at home which I have had; I gave him 5s. 6d. for the carpet I had on Saturday"—that was the 28th—Woodman, Grover & Co., are carpet manufacturers and designers, I believe—Edwards' employer, Mr. Taylor, is a carpet agent—I believe Rushton and Huskinson are apprentices, and Hargill a warehouseman—I went to all the prisoners' addresses, and they made statements which were taken down by the other officers—I attended to Huskinson.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I do not know if Huskinson has been apprenticed for four years.
FRANK HALLAM (Detective.) I went with Smith to Edwards' house on April 28th, where I found a quantity of goods—Rushton lives at 20, Boundary Lane, Camberwell—we found there a large quantity of carpets and other materials in various parts of the rooms—I made a list of them—there were five or six quarter carpets and some curtains—some had been sold—the value of the property received by Rushton is £13 6s.—the carpets were, I believe, samples—I went to Hargill's address, and recovered a quantity of stolen property, value about £9; then I went to Huskisson's, and found a large quantity valued at £36 3s.—he lives with his mother, who is a widow—there were carpets on the floors, and curtains in the windows—I think there were five carpets there which were identified by Mr. Taylor—I heard Rushton say at the station when charged, "Edwards showed me receipts for the goods I had bought from him"—that was receipts from his employer.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Most of the things I found at Huskinson's were in use—I did not hear him say that Edwards had told him that the goods were samples which his master wanted to get rid of—I am told that Huskinson has given every satisfaction to his employers—I believe his mother is maintained by him and his three brothers.
Cross-examined by Hargill. Some of the goods I found at your house were in use; I think some were not.
By the COURT. Hargill told me that he gave 5s. 6d. for the carpets—I think altogether he had spent £2 10s.
JAMES RACKLEY (Detective Officer.) I arrested Rushton—Smith read the statement made by Edwards to him—he said, "I bought one of the carpets from Edwards on the previous Saturday, and gave 8s. 6d. for it"—he said it had been sent to a Mrs. Wise, of Sydenham, by a Carter Paterson van, as his mother had sold it, and that he had previously had one or two carpets from Edwards, who had shown him a receipt which he had had from Mr. Taylor.
Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. Huskinson said that Edwards told him that he had power to buy, as he had shown Huskinson a receipt given him by his master.
By the COURT. There is a van-load of property altogether.
CHARLES GRUNOW (Detective Officer.) On May 1st I went to 102, Newgate Street with other officers, and saw the prisoners—Rackley said, "We are police officers," and cautioned them—Hargill said to me, "I have bought a carpet from the boy upstairs about April 1st this year; I gave him 5s. 6d. for it; he showed me a receipt; I do not know if it is in Mr. Taylor's handwriting, the boy upstairs told me it was all right; it was sent by Carter Paterson's before Mr. Taylor arrived, as we did not want him to know anything about it; I did not know myself it was stolen; I said, 'What is it worth?'; he said, 'I do not know, but I should think about a guinea'"—at the station he said, "You will find some of the other things in the bedroom, except some of the goods my mother has sold."
ARTHUR TAYLOR . I am a commission agent, dealing in carpets and other things, at 102, Newgate Street—Edwards was my office boy; I have employed him about 10 months—I sell carpets by sample—there were four complete carpets stolen—the goods produced are mine, and there is a van-load as well—the total value is calculated at £65, but I think I have underrated it; it represents about one-fifth or one-fourth of the bulk that I had on my premises—I began to miss things some weeks ago—I have never sold any of the samples to any of my employees—these are not soiled samples—if I sell my samples I do away with my business.
Rushton, in his defence on oath, said that he bought the carpets thinking they were out of date patterns; that he was given the money to buy them by his father and mother; that he thought Edwards had authority to sell them, and that he did not send them away early in the morning in order to avoid Mr. Taylor seeing them; and that he told his father how he was buying them, and from whom.
Huskinson, in his defence on oath, said that he was getting 13s. a week; that Edwards told him that Mr. Taylor had given him the things, and that he (Edwards) had a receipt for them, which he believed; that he got the money for the goods from his mother, who believed the story as well as his brothers.
Hargill, in his defence, on oath said that he always had his parents' permission before buying the goods, and questioned the boy as to its being all right, and that he believed it was. The prisoners received good characters.
— GUILTY Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— . Judgment respited.
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 21st, 1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
338. FREDERICK DENHAM (29) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing an automatic till and 10s. of Martin Scholles, having been convicted of felony on February 14th, 1893. Three other convictions were proved against him.—Six Months' Hard Labour.
339. ROBERT SCHNEIDER (23) , to breaking and entering the warehouse of Fritz Lamfs and another and stealing 14 pieces of silk and other articles.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
340. CHARLES WALLACE (28) , to stealing a purse and 13s. 1d. from the person of Annie Batty, having been convicted at Clerkenwell in October, 1893. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Thirteen other convictions were proved against him.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
341. JOHN BARKER (22) and GEORGE SMITH (18) , to attempting burglariously to break and enter the dwelling-house of Robert Dale, with intent to steal; also to being found by night with housebreaking implements in their possession, having both been convicted at this Court on June 27th, 1899. [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Other convictions were proved against them.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour each.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 22nd, 1900.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
344. ISRAEL HARRIS and LEAH REBECCA HARRIS , Conspiring to defeat the due course of justice; also for committing wilful and corrupt perjury, upon both of which MR. MATHEWS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. AVORY, BODKIN, and STEPHENSON Prosecuted; and MR. HUTTON
EMILY LAY . I am the prisoner's daughter, and live at 2, Eastwood Street, Bromley—the deceased was my mother—she kept a greengrocer's shop with my assistance—my father is a labourer—he had nothing to do with the shop—on April 12th my mother and I were at home—my father came home about 8 p.m.—he was sober—after a little while he went out again, then returned and sat in the kitchen—the shop was shut about 10, when my mother went out—she returned in about 15 minutes, and went into the kitchen, where my father was—I stood by the street door—I heard my father and mother a-jawing—I cannot say what they were saying—then I heard my mother say, "Oh!"—they were alone in the kitchen—the door was shut—I opened it and went in—my mother was just in the act of falling—she was standing against the fireplace—I did not hear anything said—I caught hold of her and put her down on her back in the passage—some blood was coming from her eye—when I first
saw my father he had not got his coat on—he took it off the back of a chair, put it on, and went out—I called out, "Oh, my mother's eye"—Police-constable Donovan came in, and I went to my sister's house, and when I returned my mother was upstairs in bed—Dr. Hepworth saw her—I helped to look after her up to Friday, April 20th, when she died—this knife (Produced) was on the tea table in the kitchen on this night—it was there all the night.
Cross-examined. Both my father and mother were sober on this night—after my mother was put to bed and the wound dressed she began to sing; she seemed sober then—I did not hear the doctor say that she seemed the worse for drink—she was always singing.
JOHN LAY . I am prisoner's son, and live at 240, Devon's Road, Bromley, where I carry on the business of a greengrocer; it is quite near to my mother's shop—on April 12th, about 10p.m., I was outside my shop when some boys in the street told me something about my mother—I went towards my mother's house, and I met the prisoner in Devon's Road, coming from the direction of his own home—I knocked him down as soon as I saw him, and told him to wait until a constable came, and stood over him—he said, "Let me get up; I will not run away"—a policeman took him back to his house, and I followed.
Cross-examined. My father was running when I met him—I did not say anything to him before I knocked him down—I believe he was sober.
RICHARD DONOVAN (244K.) At 10.30 p.m. on April 12th I was in Devon's Road—William Lay spoke to me—I went to the deceased's house—she was lying on the ground in the passage, bleeding from a wound under her left eye—I sent for a doctor, and the prisoner was brought in by another constable—he said, "It is your fault, Mary Ann; I did it with my fist; you struck me in the mouth"—he pointed to his mouth, which was slightly stained with blood—the deceased mumbled something—when she was taken up from the chair she had said, "Oh, my side."
Cross-examined. I saw some blood on the prisoner's face.
Cross-examined. I did not notice whether he had any blood on his face before I hit him.
SARAH INCE . I live at 9, Westwood Street—I have known both Mr. and Mrs. Lay for some years—I do not think they lived very happily together; they both drank occasionally; they were not constantly drunk—on April 12th I went to their house after the police were there—I saw the prisoner brought in by the police—he said, "Mary Ann, it is all your fault; you struck me in the mouth, and I hit you back."
Cross-examined. The police said to him, "What did you strike her with?" and he said, "With my fist."
THOMAS GOODCHILD (213K.) On April 12th, in the evening, I was called to Eastwood Street, and took the prisoner into custody—going down Eastwood Street, he said, "I struck the woman, I admit"—I said, "How about striking her with a knife, your son said you stabbed her with a knife"—he said, "I struck her with anything I could get hold of"—he was perfectly sober—when I first got into the house I saw the woman sitting on a chair—she had been drinking; I
could smell her—the prisoner said, "Mary Ann, it is your fault"—that is all I heard him say.
Cross-examined. Nobody else was present when the prisoner said, "I struck her with anything I could get hold of"—I did not hear him say in the house, "I struck her with my fist"—Donovan was there when I went in.
WILFRED JOSEPH HARRISON HEPWORTH . I am a medical practitioner, of 29, Bow Common Lane—about 10.30 p.m. on April 12th I was called by the police to 2, Eastwood Street, where I found the deceased suffering from a wound under her eye—in my opinion she was intoxicated, and in a condition of mild shock—she was not fully conscious when I arrived—the wound was 2 1/4 in. long, and extended down to the cheek-bone; I did not know how much further it had gone—I probed it, but it is a difficult situation to probe; one dare not go very deep—there was some contusion—I attended her till April 20th, when she died—on the 15th she became very much worse and delirious—I could not tell then why, but I had a suspicion that there was something the matter with the brain—on April 21st I made a post-mortem examination—the wound on the cheek had traversed the tissues round the eyeball—it had glanced off the cheek-bone, it did not injure the eyeball itself—it went from the cavity of the orbit through the roof of the cavity, and passed in a backward and inward direction, through the left frontal lobe of the brain, cutting it slightly, then through the substance of the right lobe into the right lateral ventricle—after we had removed the brain we passed a knife in from the wound in the cheek and traversed it through the track of the wound and found the distance to be 3 in.—this table knife would produce the wound and the results—this is not the knife we put in; we used a post-mortem knife—the wound was the cause of the woman's death.
Cross-examined. In my opinion the deceased was intoxicated—she was rather above the height of the average woman; she was about 5 ft. 4 in.—she was a heavy woman—it is possible that the wound was self-inflicted, but not probable.
Re-examined. If the deceased had been holding the knife like this, and had been pushed forward, the knife could have gone like that—somebody must have pushed the woman from behind, or the knife from the front—the top of the knife is not sharp—it is an ordinary table-knife—it would not require a great deal of force, there were not many resisting structures against it—it did not strike the cheek-bone, it glanced off it—the only bone it passed through was as thin as a piece of paper—when I saw the deceased first I did not know there was any injury to the brain.
CAROLINE LIKENESS . I live at Howgood Street, Bromley, and am a widow—I knew the prisoner and his wife—on April 12th, about 10 p.m., I met the deceased in Furze Street, close to her home—she went with me into the Earl Devon public-house—she seemed sober—she had two pennyworth of whisky—I had a glass of ale—we stayed five or ten minutes, and went out together—she walked straight—then I left her.
Cross-examined. I heard afterwards that she had had some drink before I met her.
I went to Eastwood Street—I saw the deceased in bed—she had a wound under her left eye—she said something to me, and I went into the kitchen, where I found this knife on the floor, under a chair near the fireplace—there was wet blood on it—I also found two aprons on the floor with blood on them—it was a small room, with a table in it and some boxes and a chair—I went to the Police-station, where I found the prisoner—I took the knife with me and laid it on the desk in the charge room—the prisoner said, "I never used that knife"—he was charged with wounding—he made no reply—I did not then notice anything about his mouth—on April 21st I saw him at the Police-court—I said to him, "Lay, your wife died yesterday; you will now be charged with murdering her"—I cautioned him, and be made no reply—I read the charge to him—he said, "I only done like that," throwing his arm in a horizontal position.
Cross-examined. I did not show him the knife at the station, I only laid it on the desk.
The Prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he was going out at the door when the deceased caught hold of him, and he hit her once with his hand; that he had nothing in his hand, and that he did not use the knife; that she was not wounded when he left the room and she may have fallen on one of the boxes, and that he did not see her bleeding.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 22nd, 1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
346. HENRY LAZARUS (20) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully applying a false trade description to certain cigars, and selling the same; also to inciting Alfred Newman to steal two glass slips, the property of Salmon & Gluckstein, Limited. He received a good character.—Three Months' Hard Labour on the first Indictment, and One Month on the second, to run concurrently. And
347. EDWARD DAWSON (37) , to forging and uttering a cheque for £2 7s. 6d., also a cheque for £2 5s., with intent to defraud, he having been convicted at this Court on March 9th, 1897.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Six other convictions were proved against him.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
NOT GUILTY .
349. CURT KONALLICK (21), WILLY GRIEBEL (22), and CURT CASPARY (31) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Herman Kautorsvitch and stealing four forceps, 800 artificial teeth, and other articles, his property.
MR. RAVEN prosecuted, and MR. SLATER defended Griebel.
HERMAN KAUTORSVITCH . I am a dentist, of 8, Aldgate High Street—I occupy the first floor back room—Griebel worked for me for eight or 10 days before this occurrence—on April 17th, Easter Monday, I left the place secure—I returned the next morning at a little after 9, found the window open, and missed £3 16s. and about 800 artificial
teeth, some gold ware, a drill, a rubber, and a set of weights—all these articles (Produced) are mine—these sets of teeth are worth 30s.—I carry on the business of a private dentist at the same place—the window was a little marked.
Cross-examined by MR. SLATER. I know Griebel's father lately—he is what corresponds in Germany to Justice of the Peace in this country—Griebel has been in England six or eight months—I have no complaint to make against him—I did not examine the window before leaving—I locked up the place—nobody could have entered by the door; I had the key in my pocket—Griebel came next morning, and worked till I gave him in custody from information I received—I think he has been led away by Konallick and Caspary.
ROBERT LYON (City Detective Sergeant). I arrested Griebel at his master's place, and took him to the station—during the afternoon Griebel made a statement—I sent for an interpreter from the Great Eastern Railway, Mr. Knight, who interpreted it, and I took it down, after cautioning Griebel—he said, "I did not carry the property; it was Caspary who carried it. Caspary asked me to go with him to 46, Prince's Square; he asked a man named Toddlevitch to take charge of the property. On Monday, April 16th, I met Konallick in Lombard Street. He asked me where I was employed. I took him to my master's place at 8, Aldgate. Konallick said, 'I am going to break into that place'—I left him outside the premises; I did not see him till next day, the 17th, about 9 p.m.; he was then at 90, Leman Street, with a man known as Hamburg Willie—Konallick said, 'I have broken into your master's place,' and showed me this property, and said, "This is what we have taken"—I then left him—I saw them again at 8 p.m. on Thursday; they told me they had not sold the property—on Sunday, the 22nd, I met Caspary in Lombard Street; he had the property, and asked me to come with him to Prince's Square, where we saw Toddlevitch; Caspary gave Toddlevitch the property from the bag, and put it into a box handed to them by Toddlevitch"—Griebel counted the teeth as they were taken from the bag, and placed them in the box—we then broke the bag in pieces—Konallick made a statement in the presence of Griebel, after Griebel had made his statement.
Cross-examined by MR. SLATER. I did not find anything on Griebel—I have traced nothing to his possession—he told me that he was not certain whether he slept at his master's place or not on Easter Monday night.
FRANK WHEEL . I was called to the station about the 25th, about 4.20 p.m., and interpreted the statement which has been read—I interpreted what Caspary said, but he was very excited, and I can hardly say what he did say—I interpreted everything that Lyon had in his book.
JOHN BIRKETT . I am manager to Robert George, a pawnbroker, of 652, Commercial Road—I produce four pairs of forceps—they were pawned on April 17th, to the best of my belief, by Caspary—he spoke in broken English.
R. LYON (Re-examined). When I arrested Caspary he had a hand-drill and an excavator on him, which the prosecutor identified.
The Jury here stopped the case with regard to Griebel, and returned a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
Caspary, in his defence, stated that Griebel asked him to keep the things for him, and as Griebel was a dentist he thought they were his, and as he did not set Griebel for some days he had to keep them, but that he did not pawn them.
CASPARY received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
KONALLICK— GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, May 23rd, 1900.
MR. A. GILL prosecuted, and MR. MUIR defended.
ROBERT LANBY . I am managing clerk to William Ernest Ruck, solicitor, of Norfolk Street, Strand—on April 26th I wrote a letter addressed to Mr. C. E. Ashley, 3, Sunnyside Villas, Gunnersbury Lane, in which I enclosed a postal order for 10s. (Produced)—it is payable to Mr. Cecil E. Ashby—when I sent it off the space for the receipt was in blank—it is numbered L-10 479148—I posted it at the East Strand Post-office about 5.15.
JAMES HAWKES . I am overseer at the Acton Post-office—the prisoner was employed there as an auxiliary postman—a letter posted at the East Strand Post-office at 5.15, addressed to Gunnersbury Lane, Acton, would arrive in the ordinary course of post about 9.45 the same evening, which would be the last post there—on April 26th the defendant was the post-man to make that delivery—at that time he lived at 92, Avenue Road, Acton, according to our records at the Acton Post-office—up to May 4th he had not given any notice of having removed, nor did he make any report with regard to the letter addressed to Mr. Ashley—this is the rule with regard to undelivered letters—(This stated that on no account were postmen to take undelivered letters home, but to return them at once through a post letter-box, and to endorse them with the reason of non-delivery).
Cross-examined. After the prisoner had made his last round, his duty would be to go home—there is no discretion given to postmen as to keeping the letters in their possession if they contain valuable securities.
By the COURT. There is a wall box within a few yards of Sunnyside, which would be cleared at midnight by some other postman—if there was an open letter in the box endorsed by a postman, it would be the duty of the collecting postman to draw my attention to it the following morning, so that we could have it officially sealed—if it was open or unopened it would show if it had been endorsed by a postman, because
he would have to initial it—if a postman is sorting letters, and he finds a letter open, it is his duty to draw attention to it, and have it sealed.
By MR. MUIR. I have known the prisoner for eight or ten years—he has been in the service during that time, and has borne an excellent character—we should not keep a man in the service unless he had a good character; that is the rule.
CECIL EVELYN ASHLEY . I am solicitor's clerk, living at 22, Wood-hurst Road, Acton—on April 26th I was living at 3, Sunnyside Villas, Gunnersbury Lane—on the evening of April 26th I was at home with my wife—I had seen Mr. Ruck some days previously, and I was in the sitting room the whole of this evening, anticipating this letter, which never came; no postman came to the door, I have no doubt about that.
Cross-examined. I was in the sitting room between 9.45 and 10 p.m., which is about a yard from the front door; there is a knocker, but no bell—I generally go to bed between 11 and 12.
By the COURT. Mr. Ruck was going to send me the 10s. to help me in my moving expenses.
EMILY ASHLEY . I am the wife of the last witness—on April 26th I was with him at 3, Sunnyside Villas the whole evening—I did not go to bed till after 12; at 9.45 I was in the front room downstairs—I knew a letter was expected that evening, but it never came; no knock came to the door.
Cross-examined. I believe my husband was in the kitchen, but I cannot say; he was in the house—he never enjoys an evening snooze about that time.
BESSIE BEER . I am the wife of Albert Victor Beer, of 92, Avenue Road Acton—on April 27th the prisoner lived in the same house; he occupied the back room at the top—I lived on the same floor with my husband—about 5.30 p.m. on April 27th I was coming out of my room to go downstairs to go shopping—the prisoner called out to me and said, "Are you going out, Mrs. Beer?"—I said, "Yes, Mr. Brown"—he said, "Would you mind changing a postal order for me?"—I said, "Yes Mr. Brown; I will try and get it changed"—he gave it to me—it was signed at the top, not at the bottom—it was made payable to "Mr. Cecil Ashley"—I took it in my hand, and said, "Is it all right?"—he said, "Yes, it is quite right"—I went up to the High Street, Acton, Post-office, and they refused payment because it was not signed—they said it must be signed by Mr. Ashley—I took it back to the prisoner, and told him so—he said, "Anyone can sign it; you sign it"—I signed it at his request—I went to the Post-office at Bollo Bridge—I do not think it is much farther than the High Street Post-office—I was going that way to buy something—it is about five minutes' walk—I handed it in, and payment was refused—the post-mistress kept it, and asked my name and address—then I went back home—I met the prisoner at the gate, and said, "Mr. Brown, you have got me into a bother"—he said, "You did not give my name, did you?"—I said, "Yes, I did; and my own, too, for I was bound to"—I had given his name as the person from whom I had received it—he made some noise with his mouth, and then said, "Good God! that will put me away."
Cross-examined. My husband is a labourer—we had been living
at this address since January 28th—the prisoner's sister-in-law occupied the room next to me—it was not later than 5.30 that he gave me the order, because I had been up to the High Street, and then to Bollo Bridge, by 5.55—he had his uniform trousers on, but no waistcoat or jacket—no other person saw me get the order from him—I do not know why I asked him if it was all right; it is the way I have got when people ask me to do anything—I did not think there was anything wrong with it—he said, "You will have to sign it"—I am quite sure he said that, but I presented it unsigned—I cannot say what time I presented it, but I went straight there—they did not ask my name at the High Street—when I got back I saw the prisoner at his bedroom door—he was in his full uniform then—then I went to Bollo Bridge; it is further, but I went there because I was going that way to a shop—I signed the name of Cecil Ashley just inside my own door—I did not attempt to sign it at the Post-office—no person other than the prisoner saw me sign it—the lady at the Bollo Bridge Post-office said, "I shall want your name, and how you have come by it"—she said something else, but I do not know what it was, because I was so frightened to find that there was something wrong with the order—she said it was stopped—she did not threaten me in any way—she took my name, and asked me where I got it from, and I gave her the prisoner's name—nothing more was said—I get up about a quarter to five in the morning—nobody else on that landing gets up so early, except my husband; he is the first person out on the landing—if a letter was dropped on the landing over-night, he or I would be the first person to see it—when I met the prisoner at the garden gate I did not say, "Oh, Mr. Brown, I hope you will forgive me; I have been to cash an order, and it has been stopped, and they have called a police-man in, and said if I did not tell where I got it from they would lock me up, and I said Mr. Brown gave it to me"—the prisoner did not say, "Good God! woman, what do you mean? that is the letter I lost"—when I went to Bollo Bridge I cannot say if the young lady said, "Is this your order?" or if I answered "Yes"—I was dazed at the time, because she had told me it was stopped—I might have said "Yes," but I cannot remember—she said, "What is your name?"—I might have answered, "Mrs. Ashley," but I cannot remember—I do not know whether I did or not—I cannot remember if she said, "Who sent it to you?"—I cannot say if I replied, "My husband"—I saw her take out a piece of paper—I cannot say if she said, "I am afraid I cannot pay this order; I must take down your answers and send them up to the General Post Office"; I do not think she did—I did say, "If there is going to be any fuss about it I had better tell you my real name is Mrs. Beer"—I cannot say if she said, "Then your husband did not send it to you"—I did say, "No, Mr. Brown, a postman, sent it to me"—she asked me where I lived; I was not dazed then—I cannot remember her saying, "Can you prevent him knowing I have refused to pay it?" or that I said, "No; I must go back and tell him; he is waiting at home for me; I have got myself in a nice mess."
Re-examined. I have not had much to do with postal orders—a man named William Taylor lives in the same house as I do—I saw him that evening after seeing the prisoner the first time—that was about 5.30—
the order was then folded up in my hand—I do not know if Taylor heard me speaking to the prisoner—he was just going into his room as I came down—there are three floors; I occupied the top one, and Taylor the second—there was nobody else upstairs besides the prisoner and myself—it is a six-roomed house—I knew that if a postal order was stolen payment of it could be stopped; that is what frightened me.
ADELAIDE LOUISA NASH . I assist my husband, the sub-postmaster at Bollo Bridge Post-office—the last witness came to the office on Friday, April 27th, about 6 p.m.—she presented a 10s. postal order for payment—the signature of the payee was put in—it was just as it is now—I had a conversation with her—I took out this piece of paper (Produced)—I should hardly call it a record of the conversation—I wrote this at the time—I made a report to the Postmaster-General of the conversation I had—this (Produced) is what a gentleman took down last Monday—I sent this telegram to the Postmaster-General.
Cross-examined. I think the first thing I said to the woman was, "Is this your order?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "What is your name, please?"—she said, "Mrs. Ashley"—I said, "Who sent you with this order?"—she said, "My husband"—I read my instructions—I did not know what to do—there was another order stopped, and this one agreed in the office of issue and the name, but the number was wrong—I said, "I cannot pay you this order, but I shall have to take a few particulars"—then her manner changed; she said, "If there is going to be any ado about this I had better tell you my real name"—I said, "What is your real name?"—she said, "Mrs. Beer"—I put that down and said, "Where do you live?"—she told me—I said, "Your husband did not send you with this; who did give it to you?"—she said, "Mr. Brown, the postman, sent me"—I said, "I cannot pay it to you; I shall have to send it to the General Post Office"—I do not think that the first thing I said was that it was stopped—our post-office is about 10 minutes' walk from the Avenue.
Re-examined. As a matter of fact, this postal order was not stopped then—it was another order sent by the same person to Mr. Ashley winch was stopped.
ROBERT LANBY (Re-examined). This letter (Produced) was written by me on April 19th—it is from Mr. Buck to the Secretary of the General Post Office, informing him of the loss of the first postal order.
C. E. ASHLEY (Re-examined). I did not receive an order from Mr. Ruck for 10s. or one for 2s. 6d. on April 13th, and I communicated with him in consequence—I was in his employ at one time.
JAMES HAWKES (Re-examined). A letter posted in the neighbourhood of the Strand about 5 p.m., addressed to Mr. Ashley's address, would be delivered by the last delivery the same evening—the prisoner would make the delivery on the night of April 12th—he would come on duty, generally speaking, about 8 p.m.
Cross-examined. It is about six minutes' walk between the High Street Post-office and the Avenue, and a few yards further to Bollo
Bridge—on April 26th the prisoner would go on duty about 6.30 p.m.—he would not require to be in uniform till about seven minutes before 6.30—he would be off duty from 3.21 p.m. till 6.30 p.m.—he was employed by people in the neighbourhood apart from the Post-office—I do not know if the orders for 10s. and 2s. 6d. have been cashed.
Re-examined. Sometimes it takes some time for a stolen order to be traced.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am an Army pensioner, living at 92, Avenue Road, Acton—I was at home on April 27th—I occupy the ground floor back room—between 5.30 and 6 on April 27th I saw Mrs. Beer coming out at the door—she said, "All right" to the prisoner upstairs as she was coming cut with a piece of paper in her hand—I cannot say what he said—about five minutes after she had gone out the prisoner came downstairs—he had slippers on—I do not remember what kind of clothes he had on—I do not know when he left Avenue Road.
Cross-examined. It was not 6.15 when I saw the prisoner—I was first spoken to about this after he was committed for trial—I have not spoken to Mrs. Beer about the matter—I am still living in the house.
JOHN DRUMMOND . I am a clerk in the Secretary's Office of the General Post Office—I saw the prisoner at the Acton Post-office on May 4th—I cautioned him, and told him my name—I had been to his address at Avenue Road that day, but could not find him—I asked him where he lived; he said, "92, Avenue Road, Acton"—I said, "They told me there that you had left on May 1st, and could not give me your present address"—he then said he lived at 11, George Road, Acton—I described the letter sent by Mr. Ruck, and said that the addressee had not received it, and told him that the order enclosed in it had been presented for payment by Mrs. Beer, who stated that she had obtained it from him—I asked him where he obtained it, and he said, "I had the letter in question on April 26th, last delivery, it was the second in the packet, and I tore the letter as I took it from the packet. I knocked twice at the door, but got no reply. I took it home, thinking to have it sealed up in the morning. I went home and had my supper, and showed the letter to my sister-in-law"—he then said that he put the letter in his hat on the table, and went upstairs to bed; that he came down about five minutes afterwards, and took the hat and letter upstairs; that, going upstairs, he put his hat on his head; that next morning Mrs. Beer said that she hoped he would forgive her, but that she had found a letter and cashed an order, and said that the prisoner had given it to her; that he said, "Good God! woman, what have you done? that is the letter I lost"—I went and saw his sister-in-law, and then told the prisoner that she had seen the letter which he had brought home, but did not recognise it—I subsequently obtained a warrant for his arrest.
MATHEW TOWER (Constable, G.P.O.). On May 14th I arrested the prisoner at 47, Hervey Road, Leytonstone, where he had joined his wife—I read the warrant to him and said, "Do you understand?"—he said, "Yes, I understand"—when charged he made no reply.
The Prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that he went to the house to deliver the letter, and knocked twice; that he had torn the envelope in taking it out of his pcket, and had taken it home; that he put it into
his hat to take it upstairs, and must have dropped it, as he could not find it, and that Mrs. Beer must have found it and cashed it, as he did not ask her to change it for him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
SARAH MOCKETT . I am single, and am a seamstress, living at 47, Hervey Road, Leytonstone—the prisoner married my sister—on April 26th I was lodging at Acton—I had got some work there—the prisoner came home at night—I saw a letter in his hat; it was torn, and I saw there was an order inside—the prisoner told me he had torn the letter and found the order inside—I was occupying the room the prisoner usually had, and he was sleeping upstairs—alter I had gone to bed he came down—I asked him what he wanted, and he said he had come for his hat; he went upstairs at once; I saw him take his hat up.
Cross-examined. I left Acton on Friday by the 7 p.m. train—I left the house about 6.30—I did not see my brother-in-law before I left—I was not at 92, Avenue Road from 5.30 to 6 on the 27th.
HENRY ALYWOOD . I am a builder and decorator, of King Street, New Acton—On April 26th I was at my shop—I have known the prisoner about six years—he came in about 4 o'clock—we both left the shop together about 5, and went across to an hotel opposite—he left me about half an hour afterwards—the hotel is about 15 minutes' walk from 92, Avenue Road.
Cross-examined. It would take about five minutes on a bicycle.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY in consideration of his character.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, May 22nd, 1900.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
352. FREDERICK PARKER (39) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering a request for the delivery of two wrenches and a set of stocks and dies, with intent to defraud. He had been a month in custody—Five Months' Hard Labour.
353. WILLIAM CONWAY (22) and HERBERT EDWARD WEST (18) , to two indictments for stealing an overcoat, the property of William Budd, and a clock, the property of Frank Edward Woods Conway, having been convicted of felony at Cambridge on January 9th, 1899, in the name of William Johnson.— [Pleaded Guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour; WEST— Nine Months' Hard Labour.
354. MICHAEL HAYES , Wilful and corrupt perjury at Brentford Petty Sessions on the hearing of an information against himself for using obscene language on the premises of the Metropolitan District Railway.
MR. BURNIE Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
The evidence is unfit for publication.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, May 23rd, 25th, and 26th, 1900; and
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, May 24th, 25th, and 26th, 1900.
357. BENJAMIN MAYER (32) , Unlawfully omitting to discover the whole of his property to the trustee in his bankruptcy. Another Count: Attempting to account for his property by fictitious expenses; and LEON MAYER (40) , Aiding and abetting him in the same offences.
MESSRS. HORACE AVORY, MUIR, and JAY Prosecuted; MESSRS. J. P.
GRAIN and PETER GRAIN Defended.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger of the Bankruptcy Court—I produce the file of the bankruptcy of Leon Mayer—the dates are: the petition, November 13th, 1693; the adjudication, November 22nd, 1893—the liabilities are £2,618 16s. 7d.—the deficiency is £2,039 17s. 11d.—there are partly secured, but no fully secured creditors—the public examination concluded on January 12th, 1894—it was signed, and was duly sworn on January 19th, 1894, and is on the file—he is described as a fancy goods, importer, of 14, Bushell Street—in March, 1894, he applied for his discharge, which was suspended for four years—I also produce the file of the bankruptcy of Benjamin Mayer, on his own petition, of August 11th, 1898—the receiving order is the same date—the unsecured creditors are in 1898—the gross liabilities are £3,872 15s. 7d., the estimated assets £992 8s. 2d., and the deficiency £2,767 1s. 9d.—with the exception of about £9, the whole debts were contracted in 1898—on the file is the public examination—I also produce the private examinations of Benjamin and of Leon Mayer in the bankruptcy of Benjamin Mayer, dated February 14th, 1899.
EDWARD PREEDY . I am a cane merchant, of 54, Shaftesbury Street, Hoxton—I have known Leon Mayer from June or July, 1895—I have done business with him—he represented himself as Mr. Mayer, of B. Mayer & Co.—I saw Benjamin when I called for accounts in Wilson Street, Finsbury—I asked if Mr. Mayer was in—he said, "No."
Cross-examined. I did not meet Benjamin at the Furniture Exhibition in 1899—how could I ask him for an account when he was bankrupt in 1898?—I did not meet him in 1897—subsequent to 1895 I have heard Leon called Ben, and I think he responded to it—I did business with him up to 1895—he owed between £15 and £16—I had difficulty in getting the accounts—I put one account previous to the last into the hands of a solicitor—the accounts were paid by cheque—I cannot say whether they were signed by B. Mayer & Co.
Re-examined. Up to 1898 I saw Leon—I treated him as principal at St. John Street Road, Wilson Street, Finsbury, and at 174, Pentonville Road.
BEN. JOHN KENCH . I am a manufacturer's agent at Paternoster Square—the end of January or February 1st Leon Mayer called—he said he was one of B. Mayer & Co.—he asked me to send pattern books of linoleums—about April I got an order from B. Mayer & Co.—several others followed—I supplied goods amounting to £46 14s. 8d.—the latest order was June 7th—they were all in 1898—the goods of the June order were delivered the same day—I never received any payment—the terms were the ordinary terms of a clear month—I called at 174, Pentonville Road, to collect the account, I think, twice—I saw Benjamin—I told him I had come for the account—I asked for Mr. B. Mayer—he said he was out.
Cross-examined. I have no traveller named Cole—a Mr. Cole travels for Price & Co., St. Mary Axe—he had nothing to do with these transactions—we made inquiries as to B. Mayer & Co., and as the result I went to collect the account.
ALFRED GRAY . I am a manufacturer's agent and importer, of 9, Farringdon Avenue—about March, 1898, Leon Mayer bought some china from me for £18—he represented himself to be of the firm of Benjamin Mayer & Co.—that account was paid—I afterwards executed other orders to the amount of £230, £77 which we sold for ourselves as Featherstone and Gray—I saw Benjamin in the Pentonville Road shop of B. Mayer & Co., in April—I took him to be a warehouseman—I asked to see Mr. Mayer, and he took me through the office behind the warehouse, and I saw Leon—at the first interview I asked Leon if he was Mr. Mayer, and he said, "Yes."
Cross-examined. A buyer would say he was buyer for his firm, and not simply give the name of the firm, as if he were the principal—I did not know Benjamin was Mr. Mayer till the bankruptcy proceedings.
Re-examined. Each time I saw Benjamin he was putting things on the counter ready to be packed.
Cross-examined. I asked Leon to dinner once when I came in about 1 o'clock, and he had been buying since 11.30—that was not in the way of commission—I never treated him as agent or buyer, but always as principal—he never told me he had to consult Benjamin before buying.
Re-examined. He always settled questions of price without reference to anybody, and behaved throughout as principal.
NAZERWANGI JAMASJI MOOLLA . I am one of the firm of Cama, Moolla & Co., glass merchants, in the City—in 1896 I called on B. Mayer & Co. in Kensington for orders—Leon afterwards called on me as Mr. Mayer—I supplied him with goods from 1896 to 1898 at 174, Pentonville Road, and once in St. John's Road—I called for an account, and saw Benjamin—I asked for my account—he said, "My brother is away in the country, and as soon as he comes he will send a cheque"—from April 29th to December, 1896, the account was £84 15s. 5d.—they paid by bill up to 1898—the account then grew bigger than usual—in six months they had more than in the previous year—the last order in July was £33 11s. 2d.—in the six months it was £381 5s. 6d; in June
it was £102 17s. 10d.—at the bankruptcy £244 was due—these are letters giving orders and postcards that I received—when Leon was ordering goods I told him the account was larger than usual—he said, "I am now doing a larger business; I am travelling myself, and have taken other travellers, hence the account is larger"; but if I did not want to give him very much credit, he would not order more—that gave me more confidence, and I gave him credit—I found my name was given as a reference for B. Mayer & Co.—I spoke to Leon about it—he said, "If you do not like it, I will not give you more orders"—still he went on giving orders.
Cross-examined. At the start he gave two references—my manager inquired—I saw Benjamin two or three times—I paid £21 towards meeting a bill which was accepted, and received cash on July 4th.
ALFRED ATTNEAVE . I live at 119, Pentonville Road—I am the owner of 174, Pentonville Road—in August, 1897, Leon came to me—he gave me his name as Benjamin Mayer—he wrote that name and his own and other addresses on a card—his address was in St. John's Road—there were two or three references—I let him the premises under a three years' agreement at £70 a year—I have destroyed the agreement with other papers—comparing the writing with the card, the signature to the agreement is not the same—the rent was paid quarterly by cheque—the signature on the cheque of "B. Mayer & Co." is Leon's—I first knew that Leon, who called himself Benjamin, was Leon, about the end of March.
Cross-examined. I had references of Benjamin Mayer—I saw Leon.
FRANK JOHNSON . I am chief clerk of the Finsbury Branch of the London and South-Western Bank, who make a return to Somerset House under the Act—I also produce a certified copy of the account of B. Mayer & Co. with our branch, which was opened July 18th, 1895, by Benjamin Mayer, trading as B. Mayer & Co., and the signature is "Benjamin Mayer"—the account was transferred to the Clerkenwell Branch on April 23rd, 1896.
Cross-examined. The account was opened by a payment in of £10 3s. 1d.—£50 had been paid in by December 27th—I think I have seen Benjamin—I do not recollect seeing Leon.
THOMAS HENRY WEBB . I am manager of the Clerkenwell Branch of the London and South-Western Bank, Rosebery Avenue—an account of B. Mayer & Co. was transferred from the Finsbury Branch on April 24th, 1896—on April 27th I received this authority—(This authorised Leon Mayer to draw, sign, and endorse cheques "Per pro B. Mayer & Co.")—that authority was acted upon—this pass-book is a correct copy of the account in our ledger up to 1898—I find these cheques were drawn: May 13th, £3; 20th, £40; June 13th, £50; 16th, £50; 23rd, £45; July 2nd, £20; 12th, £32; 22nd, £50; 27th, £15; 29th, £30; August 5th, £15—all except the £30 were paid over the counter in coin—the £30 was cashed by these £5 notes, Nos. 51952—6, of March 11th, 1898, and the balance in coin—on one of the notes is the endorsement, "B. Mayer, 174, Pentonville Road"—I became acquainted with Leon's writing, and believe that endorsement to be his.
Cross-examined. The form of the authority is the usual one, printed
and filled in writing—I only knew one Benjamin Mayer—no cheques were returned.
Re-examined. The part filled in is in a different writing to the signature—it is signed by "B. Mayer," and filled up by "L. Mayer"—in three cases out of four the cheques are filled up by L. Mayer, and signed by B. Mayer—one is signed by L. Mayer in accordance with the authority, "B. Mayer & Co., per pro L. Mayer, 28/4/97."
CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the Bank Note office of the Bank of England—I produce these five cancelled Bank of England notes—they were changed at the Bank of England on August 2nd, 1898—one was endorsed in accordance with the custom when notes are changed.
EBENEZER HENRY HAWKINS . I am one of the firm of Poppleton & Appleby, chartered accountants, at Barbican—my partner, Mr. Poppleton, is a trustee in the bankruptcy of Benjamin Mayer—I did the active work of examining the books, and so on—this cash account was filed by the bankrupt under an order of the Court—it runs from January 1st to August 11th, 1898—between April 18th and June 24th B. Mayer is represented to have paid loans amounting to £252 2s. 6d. to C. Mayer—from the examination I found that C. Mayer stood for Camil Mayer—I have tried, but have been unable, to trace Camil Mayer—I find by the passbook the amount drawn out between May 13th and August 5th, 1898, by cheques to self or order, is £303—in the examination those were represented to be payments made to Camil Mayer—those include one for £30 on July 28th, 1898—there were 19 cheques—other cheques bring the amount up to £352—these are the bankrupt's dates of cheques to Camil Mayer: June 2nd, £3; 8th, £40; 11th, £50; 16th, £50; April 18th, £1; May 9th, £5; 13th, £2; June 7th, £20; 10th, £5; 16th, £14 9s.; 23rd, £5 10s.; 23rd, £4 13s. 6d.; 24th, £6 10s.; and June 22nd, £45—those amount to £252 2s. 6d.—some cheques are drawn to G. Mayer—£364 represents the total cheques drawn out to B. Mayer between May 13th and August 5th, 1898—£350 represents cheques payable to himself—there are also payments for wages, petties, and travelling expenses—some entries for wages are as payments to L. Mayer—altogether the cash payments to L. Mayer between March 31st and July 9th, 1898, amount to £200, including June 14th, £35; 30th, £40; July 9th, £100—in addition, Leon has failed to prove in the bankruptcy for sums still due to him for wages and goods amounting to £117 4s. 6d.—there is an item for goods and cash of £363 16s. 6d.—the amount set out for wages is £396—petty and personal expenses are frequently put down—then there is a separate item, "Travelling on the Continent," and then a lump sum for personal expenses from January 1st to August 11th of £224 9s. 5d.—£251 is unaccounted for.
Cross-examined. There is an entry of a payment to "P. Mayer" of £54 17s., but it is crossed out in pencil and ruled through—on the other side it is "petty cash"—I have ascertained that the mother's name is Pauline Mayer—I said at the Police-court, "I can find no trace in any books of the sum of £50 having been advanced in 1895, and no evidence of a sum of £54 17s. having been paid on or about May, 1898"—I had then seen the entry—I still say the books do not show it—there was a private examination in Benjamin's bankruptcy on February 14th, 1899—
the public examination was on November 11th, 1898—Mr. Howell, one of the Official Receivers, conducted the examination in Court—Mr. Abinger was counsel for the trustee—he was my Counsel at the private sitting—I had then examined the books, or my clerk, who reported to me—the bankrupt stated that he started with £50 capital, lent to him by his mother—we have discovered a considerable amount of information relating to the bankruptcy since February, 1899, including the changing of the £5 notes, and that a majority of the creditors did not know that Benjamin was the principal of the business, but as regards the £350 and the £54 we have not discovered much. (Mr. Johnson here produced the signature-book in use in 1895, containing the signature of Benjamin Mayer.) Leon Mayer's proof for £481 was rejected—there is nothing to show that £326 was due to him for wages—by the book £69 6s. 3d. is due to Leon, but Benjamin, in Answers 178 and 193, says Leon was paid the whole of his salary, and there was nothing owing—the entries relating to wages and similar items in the cash-book are not posted, and the cash-book is not posted up—I have never seen a petty cash book—the stock-in-trade, etc., were bought in a lump by Mr. Chabe Cox, who took possession of everything—I spoke to him about the petty cash book—he told me documents were left in the shop—I believe I asked Benjamin if he had given everything up to the Receiver—I understood that the books taken over by the Official Receiver and handed to us constituted the whole of the books and papers relating to the business.
Re-examined. In Answer 172 of Benjamin's examination he says that he paid his brother £5 a week out of £50 capital, and drew £3 a week—the entry of £50 in the cash-book was never pointed out to me by the bankrupt as his mother's loan, only that the £54 17s. 1d. was a repayment to his mother.
GEORGE GRAHAM POPPLETON . I am a member of the Association of Chartered Accountants, and trustee in the bankruptcy of Benjamin Mayer—the active duties have been carried out by my assistant, Mr. Hawkins—the bankrupt has never disclosed what he has done with his money between January, 1898, and the bankruptcy.
JOHN BELL HANSELL . I am a clerk in the Shoreditch Branch of the London and County Bank—I produce a certified copy of the account of Matilda Berlin, of 5, Columbia Road, Hackney, opened on May 20th, 1898, by a payment of £20 bullion, followed by payments on May 23rd, £13, and £15 May 26th; July 4th, £31 10s.; 6th, £13; 8th, £36; 13th, £11; 25th, £20, all gold, and all 1898—this cheque, dated March 8th, 1900, for 11s. 4d., and these two blank cheques, are signed by M. Berlin.
THOMAS HENRY GURRIN . I am an expert in handwriting, at 59, Holborn Viaduct—I have practised for 15 years as an expert—I have examined the authority to the bank, and made a photograph of it, and compared it with the endorsement of the £5 note 51596—they are the same writing, except the signature "B. Mayer & Co."—three of these cheques are signed "B. Mayer"—the rest are the same writing as the authority, the body of the cheque for 11s. 4d., and the endorsement on the £5 note.
HARRY SMALE (Detective Sergeant). On March 17th I saw Leon Mayer at Beauchamp Place, Brompton—I addressed him by name, said I had a warrant for his arrest, and read it to him—it charges him with offences under the Debtors Act—he said, "I can prove that that is all false; nobody can prove that I was the principal of the firm; who took out the warrant?"—I said, "The Treasury"—he said, "I shall take an action for damages against them; Benjamin Mayer was the principal of the firm; I knew that a firm of solicitors were trying to get someone to swear that I was Benjamin Mayer"—when charged at the station he said, "I shall say nothing here, but the charge is false."
EDWIN BADCOCK (Detective Sergeant). On March 17th I arrested Benjamin Mayer at 18, Beresford Road, Canonbury—I asked him if he was Benjamin Mayer—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I am a police officer, and hold a warrant for your arrest"—I read it to him—he replied, "Very well"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he made no reply—I found on him two blank cheques signed "M. Berlin"—he said, "That is my sister's account,"
Portions of the prisoners' examinations in the bankruptcy of Benjamin Mayer were here read, in which the description of Camil Mayer was that he was his cousin, and was tall, with, dark hair, slight moustache, and between the ages of 30 and 60, and had gone to Johannesburg.
GUILTY .—LEON MAYER— Nine Months' Hard Labour; BENJAMIN MAYER— Six Months' Hard Labour.
MR. CLARKE Prosecuted, and MR. GREEN Defended.
ELIZABETH PETTMAN . I am housekeeper to Colonel Wynne Finch at 11, Bruton Street—on Thursday, May 3rd, I missed this carriage clock—I had not seen it for two days—on May 1st Oliver was working in the house—the clock belongs to Colonel Finch—I valued it at £5—it had a case.
FREDERICK OLIVER . I am serving three months' imprisonment for the theft of this clock—I took it on May 1st from Colonel Finch's—I kept it where I was lodging for a week at 50, Bran Street, Marylebone—on Monday, May 7th, I took it to a jeweller's shop in Middlesex Street in a silk handkerchief—I unwrapped it, and asked the prisoner if it was any good to him—he said, "What do you want for it?"—I replied, "As much as you can give me"—he said, "Half a quid"—he gave me four half-crowns—he asked me if I had anything else—I said, "No"—I did not know the prisoner—he asked me no questions—I was afterwards arrested, and the four half-crowns found on me—I pleaded guilty before the Magistrate—De Jullet was with me there—I had not seen him in the shop.
Cross-examined. I went to Middlesex Street between 3.30 and 3.45 p.m.—you can see from the window into the shop—I was not asked into the parlour—I did not say that I attended sales—Byrne said, "I have one in the house now; these clocks are not saleable"—he said, "I have one there," pointing to one like this in a case—I said I should like to go to Scotland; I did not say I was going there—I did not say I was anxious,
but I wanted money—I did not ask 15s. for it—the whole transaction took very few minutes—I never had the case—the clock was bright, as it is now.
FREDERICK WEST (Detective, C). On Tuesday, May 8th, in consequence of information received from Oliver, I went to 21, Middlesex Street, City, a small watch and clock maker and jeweller's shop—in the presence of Detective Sergeant Miller, of the City Police, I said to the prisoner I was a police officer, and wanted to speak to him respecting a clock that he had bought from a man the day previous, to whom he paid four half-crowns—he said, "What the f——g hell do you mean? Who are you? I have seen no f——g clock. Where is your b——warrant? What right have you in my shop? You had better get out. I have not bought a b——clock from no one"—I said, "The man who stole the clock has stated that he sold it to you for half a sovereign"—he said, "If I tell you where the clock is, will you let me finish my work?"—I said, "Yes"—that was a pair of spectacles he was repairing for a man who was waiting in the shop for them—he said, "Will you put that on paper?"—I said, "Yes"—I wrote on paper, "I promise you that you shall finish your work"—I gave him the paper—he said, "My man has taken it out to sell it for me, I bought it for 10s., and if you wait till he comes back from dinner he will bring it back"—I remained in the shop till 2.30, when the prisoner's workman, whom I know as Ralph Azulayf, entered and said to Byrne, "I have sold that pin for you, Pat; it fetched a good price"—Byrne said, "What have you done with that clock, Ralph?"—Azulayf replied, "What b——clock do you mean? I have seen no b——clock"—Byrne said, "This is a detective, and the clock is stolen; do get it back for me"—Azulayf replied, "It is impossible; I bought it from you b——straight; I did not know it was crook; I gave you 25s. for it; I don't care for the f——g 'tec"—I then told Azulayf that I was a police officer, and should take him into custody" for being concerned with Byrne in feloniously receiving the clock, well knowing it to have been stolen—Azulayf replied, "Good God! I am an honest man; if you come home with me I will give you the clock; I have not sold it yet"—I then went with him to 2, King Street, Tower Hill, where I found the clock produced on the mantelpiece—I took him back to the prisoner's shop, and took them both to the Police-station—when charged they made no reply—from inquiry, the value of the clock and case is £7 10s.—this other clock was in the window—it is not new—a part is missing—on searching Oliver I found four half-crowns.
Cross-examined. The clocks are by the same maker—Byrne was excited—both may have been drinking—you can see the front part of the shop through the window—there is a passage and a glass door—it is impossible to see over the shop till you enter—Byrne said he bought the clock for 10s.
Re-examined. I was in plain clothes—there was an eight-day and other cheaper clocks in the shop—I found the other clock produced, the same evening.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. WILDY WEIGHT Defended.
JAY LUPTON . I am the daughter of Peter John Lupton—I live with him and my sisters and mother in a flat, at 24, Ridgemont Gardens, near Gower Street—on May 1st I went out before lunch, shopping, leaving my mother and one sister at home—we subsequently met, and all three came back about 7 p.m.—I sleep with my sister—the entrance to the flat is from a door leading from the corridor—the door is half wood, with a panel of glass—I found the glass panel broken—I missed from my room a small crescent brooch, and a jewel case, which was locked when I went out, was broken up; I also missed two turquoise earrings from another box on the dressing table, which had been rifled, but which was not locked; also a gold locket and chain, a pearl necklace, from an unlocked drawer; a leather chatelaine with charms in it, an Indian gold brooch and other articles—these were all safe when I left in the morning—I have an impression that I have seen the prisoner before, but I cannot say when or how or where.
LAURA LUPTON . I live with my father, at 24, Ridgemont Gardens—on May 1st I left home about 1.15 p.m. with my sister Jay—we met mother, and returned about 7 p.m.—we found the glass panel of the door broken, things upset, and missed articles from the room I occupy with my sister, including a gold watch, a silver watch, and an amethyst necklace.
ELLEN LUPTON . I left home at 3.45 on May 1st, and returned with my sister at 7 p.m.—going out, we pulled the door to; it latches itself—we left the jewellery and other things in order, but no one in the flat—we missed a number of things from the room I occupy with Jay, and from Laura's room—the contents of drawers were about the floor in different rooms—two £5 notes and some gold were taken from my room—the prisoner's face seemed familiar to me at Bow Street, but, whether I have met him in an omnibus or in the street, I have no recollection, nor of speaking to him.
EVA HODGE . I am a servant, at 23 Flat, Ridgemont Gardens, on the same landing as Lupton's—about 4.40 p.m. on May 1st I answered the door—the door on the opposite flat was then in order—about 5.30 I answered another call; then I saw that the glass panel of Mr. Lupton's door was broken—about 6 I talked to the porter about it.
Cross-examined. It is on the top floor, the fifth or sixth—those are the only flats on that floor—the landing extends a yard or two from the stairs—there is no lift or outer door.
PETER JOHN LUPTON . I am a silk merchant in the City—I live at 24, Ridgemont Gardens—on May 1st I left for business, leaving my three daughters at home—I was called back about 7 p.m.—I discovered the loss of the property referred to, which was mine.
JOHN BUCHANAN . I am a painter and grainer—on May 1st I was painting and graining at 23, Ridgemont Gardens—I left work at 5—there are 14 ft. or 15 ft. of landing between Nos. 23 and 24 Flats—coming out at the door of No. 23, I saw the prisoner standing with his back to the door of No. 24, with his right hand behind him and his face towards me, and hiding the greater part of the door—I waited for him
to pass me—he went on the wall side, going down—he walked very slowly towards me after leaving the door—I was looking at him—he walked slowly on the left of the passage for me to go before him, but I kept behind him down that flight—on the second flight he walked slowly again, as if he wanted me to pass him—close to the bottom of that flight he said, "You would think they would have lifts to these flats"—I said, "You would think they would have lifts"—he was three or four steps from the bottom of that flight—he commenced to make a cigarette there and at the third window also—I passed him and went away, leaving him behind me—the next morning, when I went to work, I spoke to the servant about it—I gave a description of the man to one of the young ladies, and afterwards to the police—on May 3rd the police gave me directions, and I went to the Grafton Arms public-house, got a drink, and sat down and looked about me—there were about 30 men dressed up—I saw the prisoner with a man and a woman—I afterwards saw the man at Bow Street—I communicated with the police—the prisoner was arrested—at the Grafton Arms the prisoner had a tall silk hat on and an overcoat—on May 1st he had a silk hat, a dark grey Chesterfield over-coat, patent leather boots, and a stand-up collar and dark trousers—at the Grafton he was dressed in the same way, and he had an umbrella, but on the 1st he had a stick—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. I was leaving my work earlier that day by special leave, because I had an examination to go to, in decorator's work—altogether I saw the prisoner for more than two minutes—I have only been a witness in this case—I went to the Grafton Arms about 10 o'clock—the police came to my address in Phipson Street, about six minutes' walk from the Grafton Arms—I did not expect to see the prisoner at the Grafton Arms—I recognised him by his looks, irrespective of his clothing and his "statue"—I have never mistaken a man, nor been mistaken for somebody else.
THOMAS GREGORY (Detective, D). I received a description from Tupper, in consequence of which I kept observation in the vicinity of Tottenham Court Road—about 8 p.m. on May 3rd I sent for Tupper and his witness—I saw them in Grafton Street, and opposite Maple's—from what the witness said, I followed the prisoner and arrested him in the Euston Road—I said, "We are police officers, and we are going to take you into custody for breaking into a flat in Ridgemont Gardens"—he said, "That is not my game; I get my living in the Strand, racing"—he was taken to the Tottenham Court Road Police-station—the charge was read over to him—he refused to give his name—he was asked several times by the officer who took the charge, and by myself—I said, "Why don't you give your name?"—he said, "No; find out!"—in the dock he was asked for his address—he said, "I have got no address"—he was requested to furnish his name and address several times before the charge was taken, after the charge was taken, and when he was being conveyed from the Police-station to the cells in the passage by me and Tupper, and he refused—he has never, as far as I know, given his address—I have tried, and cannot find it—I have seen him before May 3rd; not on the 1st—I was at Bow Street when the witness Biron was called—Biron was at the Grafton Arms on May 3rd.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I am entirely innocent."
Evidence for the Defence.
MICHAEL MARK KENNEDY BIRON . I am a buyer of, and dealer in, opals—I live at 27, Great Russell Street—I arrived in England on a pleasure visit from Australia on April 28th—I have known the prisoner 12 years—I met him by appointment on Tuesday, May 1st, at the Gower Hotel, near Gower Street Station, between 2.15 and 2.30 p.m., my appointment being at 2 p.m.—I was with him till 7 p.m., except for a few minutes at a time—we proceeded down the Euston Road to the corner of Oxford Street and New Bond Street by omnibus—the prisoner called at Smith's, the tailors—I waited outside; then we went back to the corner of New Bond Street, where he introduced me to a Mr. Turner—at Bow Street, Turner said that he had a return ticket to South Africa, and I conclude that he has gone—he was with us from 3.15 till 7 p.m.—the prisoner called at Madame Talfre's, the palmist, in New Bond Street, and at Professor San Joaquin's, in Conduit Street, and at an auctioneer's in Mahon Road—I waited downstairs for the prisoner—at Talfre's he showed me a visiting card, and at Joaquin's this list of fees—we had refreshment at different places—we left New Bond Street about 5.30, and went to Messrs. Bird Brothers, a printer's, in a street off the Strand—it may be Villiers Street—it is near Charing Cross—he went in and brought out cards like these—then we went to the News of the World office—I did not go in—then we got on a 'bus and went to London Bridge, then to the Fish Market, and had dinner at Neale's restaurant—then we all three returned to Ludgate Circus—I had an appointment, and left them there about 7 p.m.—I was with the prisoner on the night of May 3rd, when he was arrested—I do not know the name of the hotel—a gentleman or a lady was with me—I could not swear to the name.
Cross-examined. I live in Great Russell Street as Michael Mark Kennedy Biron, but Mark Kennedy as a rule—I came to England by the Orouba, in the name of Richard Rogers—I am known in Australia as Michael Mark Kennedy Biron—I assumed the name of Rogers because I bought the ticket cheaper—I do not think I defrauded anybody by doing so, as £20 was paid for it, and it did not matter who used it—I did not go by the name of Biron, but in the name of Kennedy, in Great Russell Street, because I did not want to be implicated in law proceedings as a witness, and pulled about in Courts, when I have been in London, Paris, Dublin, and other places for pleasure—I did not wish to be subpoenaed in this case—the first place I went to was the Gower Hotel, where I met the prisoner—when I landed I met the prisoner in Tilbury Docks, who took me to an hotel to get a bed for the night—I think it was the Great Portland Hotel, in Portland Street—a friend of mine told the prisoner I was coming over; I had known him 12 years—my friend left the ship, which called at Plymouth—he got accommodation at the hotel on the night of May 28th—I went to Great Russell Street on May 3rd or 4th—I was at the Gower Hotel a week—I took the name of Kennedy about May 5th—I had my private reasons; then, when the prisoner was arrested I did not want to be brought up in the affair, so I gave the name of
Kennedy—I was not brought up in Paris and other places—I have never appeared as a witness except for the prisoner, nor in any other capacity; not as a litigant—I have known the prisoner, on and off, 12 years—I have met him twice in eight years—the first time I knew him was 12 years ago in Australia—he was a race-horse owner and trainer—I have lost sight of him for five years—I saw him two years ago, and on April 28th; that is all the times I have met him for seven or eight years—two years ago I met him in Adelaide, South Australia—I have seen him since 1891 once—I did not see him for four years—this picture looks like him; I would not swear to him; he never had any whiskers—I went with him to the Zoological Gardens on Monday, April 30th, about 4.30 p.m., and on the Saturday to the South Kensington Museum, and to the Prince of Wales Hotel—that was the day after I landed—I was at Colchester on the Monday—I started about a quarter to 8 in the evening—I went to several places in the City previous to that—the prisoner was with me part of the time—Colchester is in Essex—I went to the Red Lion Hotel—I cannot say the station I went from; I think it was in the Euston Road—I had an appointment at Colchester to meet a person who had come over—I may have gone from Liverpool Street—I arrived about 11 p.m.; it was before the hotels closed—I have no almanac, I do not know how the trains run—I arrived back in London on May lst, about 5 a.m., at the station hotel—I walked through Covent Garden, and arrived at the hotel about 5 o'clock—I left Colchester at about 1.45 a.m. on May 1st—I do not understand your guides—I do not know the City—I know the Bank of England—I was never before out of Australia—the prisoner had a soft hat on May 1st, and a tall hat when he was arrested—on the Sunday I went to Hyde Park—I saw the prisoner, I do not remember where—I do not know his address—when he was arrested I tried to find out where he lived, to fetch him home, but he had had too much wine; I do not think he knew himself.
Re-examined. I may have seen the prisoner in Hyde Park on the Sunday—I was at Colchester a couple of hours—I slept in the waiting-room—I did not like to disappoint my friend.
LUCY TALFRE . I am a palmist, at 102, New Bond Street—on May 1st somebody called at exactly 4 p.m. for my charges—I fix the time because I went back in the room and noticed the time—I gave the information required verbally—the light was not good—I will not say that it was the prisoner.
Cross-examined. He had a tall hat and a frock-coat.
GEORGE BROOKS . I am a compositor at Messrs. Bird Brothers, 1, Villiers Street, Strand—on May 1st the prisoner called in the morning, and again about 5.40 p.m.—he gave me an order for cards, and called for them.
Cross-examined. The cards were, "Professor Kennedy, 29, Great Russell Street, and The Royal Arcade, Adelaide"—another person was with him when he ordered them, but not when he called for them—I noticed the time by a clock which was inside the shop opposite—when I looked it was 5.30—I was waiting to give up the cards—it was about 5.40 when they were called for—I was called upon by Dr. Fraser, who had ordered cards that morning: "C.F. Fraser, Hotel Great Centra, London"—he
came in with the prisoner for the cards—Dr. Fraser asked me to come as a witness—he asked me if I could tell what time his friend Cohen came for the cards—I told him between 5.30 and 6—I did not say I was away at dinner—the detective asked me about it at Bow Street, and I told him it was 20 to 6, and that I could not tell the time exactly.
Re-examined. The prisoner called about 10 minutes after I had looked at the clock—these are some of the cards—I recognise the packet.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, confirmed the above evidence, and denied all knowledge of the robbery.
SAN JOAQUIN . I am a lecturer and professor of chiropody at 53, Conduit Street—on May 1st, between 4.30 to 5 p.m., somebody called for a list of my charges—I gave him one like this—I conversed with him for about two minutes—to the best of my belief, the prisoner is the man—he was a stranger.
Cross-examined. I have had 480 calls in 28 days—it is unusual for anyone to ask for my list—I keep it to disseminate and advertise—the person was clean-shaven, as the prisoner is now—at the Police-court I said if the prisoner put his hat on it would give me a better idea—he said, "Are you engaged?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Will you give me a list of your fees for my wife?"—I have a memorandum tablet, which I clean off every night—some one called to ask if I had been called upon—I afterwards attended at the Police-court.
Re-examined. No one else called for my charges that day simply.
P.J. LUPTON (Re-examined). Going from Great Russell Street, I should go through Bloomsbury Street, in a straight line from Gower Street to Charing Cross, not by St. Giles's Church—it would take about seven minutes in a cab, I could walk it in a quarter of an hour—the Gower Hotel is five or seven minutes from Ridgemont Gardens.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY **† to a conviction of felony at Newington in August, 1898, in the name of James Osborn. Other convictions were proved against him in England and Australia.—Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. METCALFE Prosecuted, and MR. WALKER Defended
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, May 24th, 1900.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. LEWIS Prosecuted.
EMILY LINDA HORWOOD . I am the prisoner's wife, and live with him at 65, Swinton Street, Gray's Inn Road—about midnight on May 12th we had some words—he accused me of having gone wrong—I had done so, and I told him if he was anything of a man he would kill me for such a thing, and I told him he had no pluck in him—he did not attempt to touch me—he is one of the best of men—I think he gave me a punch on my side
—I did not feel anything—I was very drunk—I saw some blood, and I thought I had better go and see what it was—I went to the Royal Free Hospital.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have often taken a knife and stabbed myself, and will do it again—I did not do so on this night.
CHARLES ROBBS . I am House Physician at the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn Road—shortly before midnight on Saturday, May 12th, the prosecutrix came to the hospital—I found some blood stains on her clothes, and she had a wound on the left side of her chest, below the ribs, about 2 in. deep and about 1/2 in. broad—it had bled about a quarter of a pint—it might have been dangerous—it could have been caused by this knife (Produced)—I dressed it, and she remained in the hospital till the following Monday, when she was discharged—it has healed perfectly now.
Cross-examined. I did not see any blood stains on the knife.
By the COURT. I did not see the knife till two days afterwards, at Clerkenwell Police-court—it is quite possible that the wound was self-inflicted, but it would have been difficult for a right-handed person.
WILLIAM MILLARD (Police Inspector, G). About 12.30 on Sunday morning, May 13th, I went to the prisoner's house—I searched the place, and after some time found the prisoner behind a door in an empty room on the first floor—I seized hold of him, and told him I should arrest him for stabbing his wife a short time previously, she now being in the Royal Free Hospital—he said, "I will go with you all right; it is all a mistake"—I searched him, and found this knife in his left hand trousers pocket—on the way to the station he said, "She done it herself"—at the station he was placed in the dock, and while the charge was being taken he became very violent—he said, "I will b——well murder her when I get out of this, you don't know she gave me venereal disease, and has ruined me"—when charged he said, "My wife! she is not my b——wife; do as you like; the done it herself"—he was not drunk, but he had evidently been drinking.
Cross-examined. You bear a good character as regards your work, but you have been unfortunate in regard to your wife—you had a large piece of wood fall on your head about 10 weeks ago.
Evidence for the Defence.
ALBERT EDWARD ALLEN . I have known the prisoner about five years, out of which he has worked with me for about five years, and for about two years he has worked for me—I have always found him an honest and straightforward man—about two months ago he had a piece of wood 6 ft. or 7 ft. long fall on his head—he was attended to at the Royal Free Hospital—I think he has been drinking lately, owing to his wife staying away from him.
Cross-examined. This knife belongs to me—you used it for stripping wire—I do not remember your wife doing anything with a knife on a certain Saturday.
By the COURT. I would employ him again—I find it greatly to my disadvantage being without him—I am an electrical engineer and gas-fitter.
GUILTY under great provocation. , — Discharged on his own Recognizances.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, May 24th, 1900; and
OLD COURT.—Friday, May 25th, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
362. SIDNEY FREDERICK ATKINS (30) , Unlawfully appropriating to his own use £16 17s. 6d., £22 10s., and £44 17s., he beings a director of the Automobile Association, Limited, and falsifying the books of the said company.
MR. J. P. GR✗AIN Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES MATHEWS Defended.
MR. MATHEWS submitted that under the articles of association there were two directors only, who were appointed for life or till their resignation, and that they had no power to add to their number, except at a general meeting, and had acted ultra vires in appointing the prisoner, as they did, by resolution, which appeared in the minutes, and therefore, not being legally a director, he was not amenable under the section, the two directors only having power to appoint a manager. MR. GRAIN contended that it was immaterial whether the prisoner was properly appointed or not, if he acted in the capacity of a director, and that it was for the JURY to say whether he had done so. The RECORDER considered that it was not for the JURY, but was a question of law, that the prisoner had never been a director, and, therefore he directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY, Q.C., and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. CHARLES
FREDERICK HUGH CAPON . I am one of the firm of Trinder, Capon & Co., solicitors, of 156, Leadenhall Street—we keep an account at Robarts, Lubbock & Co.'s—this cheque for £1,810 purports to be drawn by my firm, and is a very good imitation of my writing, but it is not—the body of it is not in the same writing—in addition to the printed number on the cheque, there is a private written number, 2095, in the left-hand corner—the cheque form was not taken from our book; it is not a form which I ever had—in the cheque book which we had in January, all the cheques were numbered 32342, running right through the book, and the stamp on them is of the 10th—we began that book on November 11th, 1899, and finished with it on January 19th, 1900; but the book was not finished, we changed it in consequence of this case—our private number began at 2871, and goes onward—the last number on January 19th is 3121—we drew a cheque for £2 10s. with 3059 on it, and paid it to H. Allen, and it has never come in—I do not know who he is, a gentleman called and asked me to collect a debt, which I did, and remitted a cheque for £2 10s., which was never presented—we drew two cheques for £2 10s., one of which, No. 3059, came in—it is dated July 19, 1893.
EDWARD ARTHUR LACKMAN . I am a clerk—in January last, being out of employment, I answered an advertisement in the Daily Telegraph, and afterwards went to 11, Guildford Street, Russell Square, and saw a gentleman, who gave me this cheque for £1,810—it is in the same state now except the Mansion House stamp—I went to Robarts' bank and gave it to Mr. Freeman, the cashier, who gave me a £1,000 note, a £500 note, three £100 notes, and £10 in gold—I took the numbers of the notes
and went back to Guildford Street and gave the notes and gold to the person who gave me the cheque—he gave me a sum of money, and wanted me to go to Richmond—I got into a cab, and he said he would meet me at Waterloo, but he did not—I never saw him again.
JAMES FREEMAN . I am a cashier at Robarts & Co., Lombard Street—Messrs. Trinder keep an account there—on January 18th Lackman brought this cheque, and I cashed it, believing it to be Messrs. Trinder's signature—I paid him in notes, one of which was this £,1000 note, No. 25123, of March 30th, 1898(Produced).
BOLTON VALENTINE SMART . I am a money changer, in partnership with my brother, at 9, Wardour Street, Soho—on April 11th someone, whom I believe to be the prisoner, brought, £237 in French notes; that is about 6,000 francs—I gave a cheque for £237 on Drummond's, and he said he would call next day, as he should want some French money—he did not speak like a foreigner—I gave no memorandum—the same person came again on the following Tuesday, April 17th, and said that he wanted to buy 76,000 francs, and made an appointment for the next day for him to transfer the money to me—I made this memorandum (Produced)—"25.17" is 25 francs 17 centimes, that is the rate of exchange for £1, which, added together, made £1,032 19s. 6d.—the exchange covers the profit—I cannot remember giving him that paper; he may have taken it off the counter—I did not see it again till the police showed it to me at the Mansion House—that was after April 19th—£5 was deposited with me—I asked him his name—he said, "Taylor," and I made a memorandum of it—he made an appointment with me at the Constitutional Club for 3 p.m. next day, but he came to my place about 2 o'clock, and said that I should have to make the hour 3.30—I told him I should not be able to get the whole 76,000 francs, but I had got some German money—he said that he would take German money to make up the amount, as he was going to Heidelberg—the German money was 4,000 marks—that would be £200 English, roughly speaking—the rate of exchange was put there—that would make £1,070 14s 2d.—I went to Northumberland Avenue and asked for Mr. Taylor, and after I had waited some time he came forward and beckoned me to the reception-room, and said, "Have you brought the money?"—I said, "Yes," and presented him with that memorandum—he said, "I am sorry I shall not be able to take the whole of the amount, as I have been expecting money to be brought here; I shall only be able to take half of it," and gave me the half in notes and gold from his waistcoat pocket; a £500 note, three £5 notes, and the balance in coin—I believe they were in a bag, I am not sure—he then went into the hall, and returned with a bag similar to this (Produced), and said, "I have got the rest of the money after all; it has been here all the time; they are very careless here"—he took the money out of the bag and gave me a £1,000 note, and received the £500 note back, leaving the three £5 notes and the odd money with me—I made the account correct by deducting 1,000 marks—I wrote "Taylor, 18-4," on all the three £5 notes, but I have not seen the third note since—I then left, and paid the same £1,000 note into our account, but did not take the number of it—I did not pay in the £5 notes, they would go into the till, and we should pay them out—I have not often had such a large transaction as
£1,000; not this year—a £1,000 note is not a usual thing—he had on at the Constitutional, a hard felt hat, and had a cape attached to his coat—he wore spectacles on all three occasions; these steel ones, I believe—this is the style of coat, and this hat is what I call a round bowler—I fetched my cheque for £237 back from the bank—I saw the prisoner in the dock at the Mansion House before the Lord Mayor on the day but one after the transaction, Friday, the 18th, and recognised him, to the best of my belief.
Cross-examined. I will not swear to the prisoner being the person I saw on any of those days—the police called upon me to describe the person next morning, and I spoke of him as between 35 and 40, wearing an Inverness cape—I did not mention any colour—he wore a hard felt hat and spectacles, and he was carrying a parcel—I cannot remember the height I gave—I accompanied Mr. Sidney, Mr. Bosanquet's clerk, to the Mansion House on the next day—nothing was said to me before I looked at the prisoner in the dock about his being much younger than the man I described—he was not put with other men; he was in the dock—I was there all three days, but was not called as a witness till the 25th—the deposit I made was five sovereigns—this is a very ordinary bag, but I remember it being produced at the club, by the colour—I remember my customer taking the £1,000 note out of that bag; I am sure of that—the £500 note was taken out of his vest pocket—this was in a different pattern, but the same colour—it is the same shape—the man's upper lip protruded, but that did not make his teeth prominent—he wore a moustache, but not a beard—I did not give any description of his eyes.
Re-examined. I judged his age by his appearance—he does not look 35 or 40 now; his spectacles made a difference—I saw him in blue steel spectacles on every occasion, not blue glass.
WALDEN MCPHERSON . I am a clerk in the Bank of England—I proved a £1,000 note, No. 2123, and two £5 notes, Nos. 99274 and 99275, each of which has on it, "Taylor/18/4"; one of them came from Drummonds, and the other from the London City and Midland.
Cross-examined. I have a slight recollection of the presentation of the cheque—I feel positive that the man was not an Englishman—he was tall and dark, and had sharp features—he had not shaved that day; he was very dirty.
Re-examined. I do not know whether he had a moustache; he had a round felt hat—I gave the description after he was committed for trial—I described his coat as a dark one—I do not know whether the coat answers the description—I cannot swear whether he had spectacles—I cannot say that he had not, but I think he hadpince-nez.
HENRY CARNE . I am a clerk in the Bank of England—I produce a certified copy of an entry in one of the counter cash books which I made (This certified the receipt of £340 in notes in the name of Henry Harris,
eight of which were £5 notes)—this ticket was given in exchange for gold—I was not present—I have been in the bank 30 years—the ticket has on it 340, and I have £340—the tickets are kept in case of reference—I produce it from the file—a ticket like this was given for the amount—the £340 was in gold, and besides that he got eight notes—that was on April 18th—this "Hy. Harris" was written by himself—among the notes given out was a £500 note and eight £5 notes, making £540.
HENRY HARRIS . I live at 6, Vincent Square, Westminster—I did not change £540 in notes and gold at the Bank of England on April 18th, nor was it done by my authority—no other Henry Harris lives there—my son's name is George; he is a greengrocer—the signature at the back of this note is not his.
HERBERT MARRACOTT . I am a clerk in the employ of the Birkbeck Bank, Southampton Buildings—among their customers was Mr. George Wall; his account was closed on April 19th—this is the counter waste book—on April 19th a £500 note, No. 10997, of January 29th, 1898, was paid into that account, and five £100 notes, 00325 to 00329, of February 17th.
JOHN HURST . I am ✗a clerk to Quinn, Cope & Co., money changers, 29, Royal Exchange—on April 18th a man came in to sell 14,000 francs in notes about 5 o'clock, and gave his name—I have it down "James Hall Ravensworth, Balham," but I believe it should be Ravenswood—he gave me an open cheque drawn on us for £553 14s., and said that he would come the next morning—we gave him £300 in notes and £253 in gold the next morning—this is the memorandum I gave him the night before after business hours—it shows the rate £39 11s. for every £40—no time was arranged, but he came about 11 o'clock on the 19th and produced our cheque to me, which is now at the office.
FREDERICK HOLMES (Detective Inspector). From instructions, I kept a watch on Quinn's place of business—on Thursday, the 19th, in the forenoon, I saw a person leave, whom the prisoner afterwards spoke of as his brother—I followed him to the Mecca Coffee-house, King's Arms Yard, Moorgate Street, where you go down into the basement to a coffee and smoking place, and saw him in a dark corner talking to the prisoner, one on each side of a table, one standing up and one sitting down—they were passing papers to each other; it was very dark, and I could not see what—they looked my way, and after about three minutes they went out, the prisoner first and the other following, who put his foot on the stairs so that I could not pass: but I did not want to pass—I went up and they were both gone—I went into Coleman Street, and saw the prisoner's brother running—I lost sight of them both, but about 5 o'clock the same evening I saw the prisoner at Moorgate Street Railway Station walking about, and saw Murphy arrest him and take him inside—I saw him drop an envelope near the cloak-room—Murphy took him into the cloak-room, and I saw these tickets taken from the pocket of the coat he was wearing—there are two cloak-rooms, adjoining—on producing the tickets, Murphy got a coat and a bag—I took the prisoner into the street—I thought he was manipulating something, and said, "Where are those Bank of England notes?"—he said, "Here they are," and pulled out of his left-hand jacket pocket a £500 note and five £100 notes; Nos
00325-6-7-8-9—he said, "Is my brother at the Old Jewry?"—I said, "I do not know; I have not seen him since we saw you together in the Mecca in the morning"—he said, "Yes, we saw you down there."
Cross-examined. I saw the document drop, but whether purposely or accidentally I do not know—the notes were voluntarily given up—he offered no resistance whatever—I do not remember his saying, "Was that you who came in just after my brother?" nor do I remember saying, "Yes"—I cannot say that I did not—the prisoners brother has one arm shorter than the other—I have not seen him since.
WILLIAM RICHARD SAMPSON . I am a clerk to A. F. Crick & Co., money changers, 62, Old Broad Street—on April 19th, about 3 or 3.30 p.m., the prisoner came in and wanted 10,000 francs in French notes—I said that I had not got it, but could get it in 10 minutes if he would wait—I went out and returned in about 10 minutes, and he was gone—I never saw him again till he was in custody.
JAMES MURPHY (City Detective Inspector). On April 19th, about 3.30, I was in Old Broad Street, in sight of Inspectors Holmes, Longman and Fenton, and saw the prisoner about 10 paces from Mr. Cheker's office—I saw him look at Inspector Holmes, and then go to 67, Old Broad Street, he turned into Throgmorton Avenue and began to run—I ran after him to Moorgate Street Station—he could not see me—he went on to the staircase, and remained there about an hour; Inspector Holmes arrived, and I then went up to the prisoner and said, "I am a policeman; I saw you in Old Broad Street about an hear ago with that man," pointing to Holmes; "you suddenly turned and left"—he said, "I have not been in Old Broad Street"—I said, "I am going to search you; will you kindly step into the cloak-room? you answer the description of a man who answered a letter this morning"—he said, "Yes, I was there to meet my brother"—at that moment this envelope dropped from under his jacket, and was handed to me by the cloak-room attendant—it contained six £5 Bank of England notes, numbered 99268 to 99273, dated December 5th, 1899, also two 1,000 mark German notes, seven 100 mark notes, and six 50's, making 3,000—I also took from him these two packets, which were affixed to his coat—in the pockets of his coat I found another ticket for a black bag, two hard felt hats and a cape, and in the bag a certificate of a money-order—this memorandum given by Mr. Smart on April 17th was in his waistcoat pocket, and Exhibit D also—he said at the Old Jewry that the bag belonged to the man who changed the money—there was a name on the canvas of the bag, "W. Kennaway Maiden, 52, Thicket Road, Penge, London"—among other things in the bag was the pair of spectacles, and this other pair were in the coat pocket—neither of them contain magnifying glasses, only window glass—this cheque-book from Barclay's Bank, Cambridge, was in the coat pocket.
Cross-examined. When he turned round I think he saw Inspector Holmes, but I believe the inspector did not see him—the two cloak-rooms are next to each other, the Midland and the Great Northern; they are very liable to be mistaken—the cheque-book was in the pocket of the great-coat, not in the prisoner's pocket—the two memoranda came from his pocket, not from the envelope containing the notes; I am confident of
that—we went to the Police-station, and then returned to the railway-station, and got them—the receipt for the money order was in the bag, not in the prisoner's pocket—he did not admit being in Broad Street, but deny being in Broad Street station—when I showed him the bag about 8 p.m., he said that it had been given to him by some person—after the examination before the Magistrate, the solicitor gave me the name and description of the person from whom the prisoner said he received the bag—I think it was on the 27th, and in that description it was mentioned that he had very prominent front teeth, and on the 20th a name and description were given, but no address.
Re-examined. I went and saw the prisoner's solicitor at his request—I have reasons for not putting in the dock the man mentioned; I have been doing my best.
F. HOLMES (Re-examined). This memorandum was found among some letters in the pocket of the coat the prisoner was wearing.
Cross-examined. I am quite confident that it was in the prisoner's pocket; it was not in the envelope with the receipt for the money order, though separate from it.
B.V. SMART (Re-examined). These are the two German 1,000 mark notes, the seven 100, and the six 50, making 3,000—that makes the number of notes I sold—some of them are of recent issue, by the colour; you cannot trace German notes by numbers.
ARTHUR PENTIN (City Police Inspector). I went to Balham, to 2, Ravenswood Road, but could not find Mr. Hall—it was a small tobacconist's shop, with Alfred Attwood on the fascia—I also examined a house near Pinner, as he gave his address Cherry Cross, Pinner—I found there 550 returned paid cheques, all on Messrs. Barclay; the last number is G. 600423—the first number in the book is 360471.
Cross-examined. He gave me his address on the night of his arrest—he gave the name of Kennaway; that is his proper name.
JOHN CATLIN . I am a porter at the railway station—on April 19th a coat was left there by the prisoner about 3 o'clock—I recognise him—I gave him a ticket—he afterwards came with Inspector Murphy and the ticket—while the inspector was speaking to the prisoner an envelope dropped from the back of his jacket—I picked it up and gave it to the inspector.
W.R.S. MARRACOTT (Re-examined). The person who was at the bank looked like a clerk—he were a coat with a cape on it, similar to this.
Cross-examined. It was not a mackintosh—I cannot say that it was this colour—I should say that he was over 40—I should not describe him as an old man; he was taller than I am.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he was 29 years of age, and had taken honours at Cambridge; that he was not the man who went to Mr. Smart on April 11th and 17th, and did not interview him at the Constitutional Club; that the bag was handed to him by his brother Herbert, who was 18 months older than himself, who said that it was the property of a man named Wallace, and a square felt hat at the same time; that he wrapped his brother's coat round them, so as to make one parcel, and put them in the cloak-room at Moorgate Street Station; that the coat was not exactly an Inverness, as it had arms, and that one of his brother's
arms was shorter than the other; that he saw Wallace that morning at Holborn Station, who gave him all the money that was found on him, except the loose gold, in an envelope, and counted the contents at the station, and arranged to meet him at Moorgate station at 3 o'clock, and if not, then at 4 o'clock, and went to the Mecca Coffee-house at 12 o'clock, and met his brother there, who gave him the things which he deposited at the station about 3 o'clock, and parted with his brother outside; that he went to Crick's office in Broad Street, and asked what was the rate of 10,000 francs; that he went to meet Wallace at 3 o'clock, but he did not come, and went again at a little after 4, and waited 20 minutes, and was then arrested; and that when he denied being in Broad Street, he meant Broad Street Station.
JOHN CATLIN (Re-examined). Murphy came to the office—I asked him who he was, and, in consequence of what he said, I gave him the coat—the cheque-book was taken from the pocket and put back again—that was before the prisoner was in custody.
JAMES MURPHY (Re-examined). The boy produced the coat, and I searched it, and in the inside pocket I found the cheque-book—that was before the prisoner was in custody—I put the cheque-book back into the pocket and gave the coat to the boy—I did not say to the prisoner that he had been hanging about the railway station.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on the conspiracy Counts. —Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Friday, May 25th, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
364. WILLIAM RICKARDS (44) , Carnally knowing Alice Green, a girl over the age of 13 and under the age of 16;Second Count, Indecently assaulting the same girl; also, attempting to have unlawful carnal knowledge of Lilian Moore, a girl over the age of 13 and under the age of 16 years of age;Second Count, Indecently assaulting the same girl.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. C. MATHEWS Defended.
GUILTY on the First Count with respect to Green, and on the Second Count with respect to Moore.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, May 26th, 1900.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PERROTT Prosecuted.
JOHN BATT . I am a labourer, of 53, Eagle Wharf Road—on the night of May 6th I was in Spitalfields—I had been drinking, but I was not the worse for drink—I went behind some hoarding to ease myself—there were some young fellows round, and when I came out I was knocked down and robbed of my watch and chain, value about 50s.—I have part of the chain here—I think there were about four men—I can not recognise any of them—my eye and knee and wrist were bruised.
Shepherd Street, Spitalfields—I saw the prisoner and three other men struggling with the prosecutor, who was on the ground—I ran towards them; they saw me coming, and ran away—I was in uniform—I followed and caught the prisoner in about 150 yards—I did not lose sight of him—the other three got away—the prosecutor said he had been robbed of his watch and chain as I ran by—he was only half-conscious, but I fancy his condition was due to the effects of the blow—he may have had a glass or two—the prisoner made no reply to the charge.
Cross-examined. I came round the corner while you were struggling with the prosecutor.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that he was passing along the bottom of the street when he saw some people running, and ran to see what it was, but fell down, that he got up, and was looking to see which way the men had gone, when the policeman came up and arrested him.
GUILTY .— Two other convictions were proved against him for assaulting the police.—Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. PERROTT Prosecuted.
LAURA GRAHAM . I am a nurse at St. George's Infirmary—on May 6th, about 5 p.m., I was in Ratcliff Highway—I was not in my nurse's dress—the prisoner came up and hit me on my chest, and knocked me down—I had an umbrella in one hand and a purse in the other, which he tried to take away—I said, "You shall not have my purse"—the only other people I saw were two men on the step of a shop—I fell down three times in all—I held on to the prisoner, but he eventually got my purse, and ran away—I saw him at the Police-station about 10 or 11, where I identified him from amongst nine others—when he robbed me he had one shoulder up, but when I went in to identify him he looked 2 in. or 3 in. taller—my purse contained 9s. and some coppers.
Cross-examined. I did not tell the inspector that the man who had robbed me was not among the men—I stood still in the charge-room—I told you to hold out your hand because in the struggle I thought I took a piece of flesh out of your right hand, but I think now it was the left—my gloves were all torn, and my finger was bruised—I told you to turn sideways, because when you knocked me down you were sideways, and your face was blotchy.
ROBERT SULLIVAN . I live at 3, Starch Yard, Old Gravel Lane—about 5 p.m. on May 6th I was going along St. George's Street—I saw the prisoner running—I knew him by sight—I saw the nurse running after him, crying out, "Stop thief!"—I next saw the prisoner at the station after he was arrested—I have noticed that he is a little off on one side.
Cross-examined. You were among the nine men when I identified you—I did not recognise you at first at the station; I did when you were in the dock—I did not recognise you at first because you were not standing up straight, but in the dock you stood as you always do.
ALFRED ATKINS (42KR). On May 6th, about 7 p.m., I was in St. George's Street—I saw the prisoner sitting on some rolls of lead outside an ironmonger's shop—I told him I should take him into custody on suspicion
of stealing a purse from a lady and assaulting her—he said, "Me?" and then "All right"—he was identified by the prosecutrix—she said she had no doubt about him—he made no reply—the last witness failed to identify him when he was with the other men, but as soon as the prisoner was placed in the dock the witness said, "That is the man; I did not notice him; he was standing against the wall"—the prisoner generally stands lop-sided.
Cross-examined. After you were identified you were put into another room—I was there, too—I did not go outside and have a conversation with another constable.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was lying on the bed at home till 6 p.m.; then I changed my shirt and scarf, and went out and sat on the lead rolls until the constable spoke to me."
LAURA GRAHAM (Re-examined by the Prisoner). There was an interval of half an hour between the time I identified you and when you were charged; that was not because I had any doubt about you, but because the inspector was busy.
Evidence for the Defence.
MARY ANN DOOLEY . I am the prisoner's mother, and live at 2, Louther Street, Gravel Lane, St. George's-in-the-East—he lives with me—he came home about 3.20 p.m. on Sunday, May 6th, and asked for his clean clothes—he went upstairs to change, then he came down and lay on my bed and went to sleep, and did not wake till 6, and went out about 6.30—we live seven or eight minutes' walk from Ratcliff Street.
The Prisoner, in his defence, said that he went out at 6.30, and sat on some lead outside a warehouse with a friend, who told him he had better go for a walk, as a lady had lost a purse, and that the police would take anybody for it, and the policeman came up and arrested him.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony on January 18th, 1900, and he was stated to be an associate of thieves and prostitutes.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PERROTT Prosecuted.
WILLIAM DOLDER . I live at 190, Bow Road, Bow, and am a pawn-broker's assistant—on Sunday, April 29th, about 10.30 p.m., I was going Along High Street, Stratford—I was hustled by a gang of about seven men—they forced my face against the wall—I was struck and became dazed; I turned round when they let go, and saw them running away—I lost my watch and chain and 3s. 6d.—I do not identify anybody—on May 1st I was shown my watch, and the chain on the 3rd (Produced)—I was sober—I had only had one pint.
—I supply milk to Albert Chamberlain, who keeps a coffee shop at Stratford—on Monday, April 30th, about 3 p.m., I went to Mr. Chamberlain's shop—I saw the prisoner sitting near the counter—I knew him before—he was not in his soldier's dress—he had a friend with him, who said to him, "Show Milky the watch; perhaps Milky can do with the watch"—the prisoner pulled a watch out and showed it to me—I said, "I do not know if I can do with it"—he said he had it from a man who was going away in the Militia, and that he was allowed 8s. for it, but he wanted 10s.—I said, "I will give you 7s. for it, and 3s. if it goes well"—I gave him 7s. and took the watch away with me—on May 1st I went again to the shop to take some milk, and saw the prisoner—he said, "Well,Milky, how does the watch keep time?"—I said, "The detectives took it away from me"—he said, "Don't say you bought it off me, or I shall get three years and you will get three months"—I did not see any chain.
Cross-examined. You have been to my house—I gave you the 7s. and you put it in your pocket.
ALFRED HANDSCOMBE . I am a private in the 4th Batt. Essex Regiment at Colchester—the prisoner belongs to my battalion—on Wednesday, May 2nd, I saw him outside the library at Warlie Barracks—I was talking about a watch and chain that my friend Dolder had lost on the Sunday before we went down—I showed the prisoner a bit of paper with the description of the watch on it—he said, "Wait a little while, and I will fetch someone else to see you, because I think I know who has the chain"—a couple of fellows came up—one of them was Hayden, who belongs to D Company—he gave me the chain—the prisoner said to me, "Will your friend accept an apology?" and he asked me if I would write a letter for him—he said he did not have a hand in stealing it, but he reckoned he knew who did, and it was handed over to him to sell, and he reckoned he got about 1s. 6d. out of it—we went to Colchester that day, where the prisoner asked me to write a letter for him, at his dictation, to Abbott—(This stated that he had found out all particulars about the watch and chain; that the chap who helped in the job told him (the prisoner) that he would not have done it, only he was very hard up; that ne wanted to see Abbott, and asked him to go down to Colchester, and that he (Abbott) was to take the matter out of the hands of the police at once; that the fellow was at Colchester, and was very much worried about it)—I posted that letter, and on May 7th I saw Sergeant Eustace at Colchester—he asked me if I had the chain—the Essex Battalion was paraded, but the other man was not on parade.
Cross-examined. I did not write that letter out of my own mind.
WILLIAM EUSTACE (Detective Sergeant). At 11.30 on May 7th I was at Colchester—I saw the prisoner, and showed him this watch, and said, "I believe you sold this watch to a man named Abbott for 10s. in Chamberlain's coffee-shop on April 30th; it was stolen on the 29th; I want you to tell me how you came by it"—he said, "I did not sell the watch; I did not sell any watch or chain in Chamberlain's shop, or anywhere else. I know the man. I never sold the watch to anybody"—I took him to West Ham Police-station—I said, "I am going to put you up for identification I will borrow some clothes"—he said, "I know Abbott,
and he knows me"—when charged he made no reply—I received the watch from Abbott on May 1st, and the chain from the last witness.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that a man asked him to sell the watch, which he did for 7s., and he showed the chain to Handscombe, who said it belonged to a friend of his, and that he did not have anything to do with the robbery.
Evidence for the Defence.
GUILTY of receiving. He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on January 11th, 1897; and seven other convictions were proved against him.—Eight Months' Hard Labour.
RICHARD HENRY DIXON . I am a carman, of 8, Dairy Buildings, Stratford—on May 5th I went into the Woodgate Arms with two friends—I tendered a sovereign, and received a half-sovereign, a 5s. piece, and some silver in change—I then went down into the Romford Road, and into the Pigeons, and came out and sat down on the ground—it was then very nearly 7 o'clock—the prisoner came up, and put his hand on me, and said, "Get up, old man"—I got up, and he put his hand in my trousers pocket, took my money, and ran away—I ran after him; someone stopped him, and I said that I should give him in charge—he said that he would knock me down, but two policemen came up with the Volunteers, and I gave him in custody—he was searched in my presence; I forget what he had on him, but he had a sovereign as well.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I say that you robbed me of 7s. 3d.—I received a 5s. piece In change, and a 5s. piece was found on you—there was no crowd—the Volunteers were a good way up the road—I never lost sight of you, and am quite certain you are the man.
WALTER STEPHENS . I live at the Woodgate Arms, Stratford, and am barman there—on May 5th Mr. Dixon was a customer, and gave me a sovereign in payment—I gave him a half-sovereign, a five-shilling piece, a half-crown, and silver.
ARTHUR LANCE (61K). On May 5th, about 7 p.m., Mr. Dixon called me—he was holding the prisoner against a wall—he said, "I charge this man with stealing money from my pocket"—I said to the prisoner, "What have you to say?"—he said, "Nothing"—Mr. Dixon said, "He has the money in his right hand trousers pocket"—I pulled his hand out, and some money dropped—I took him to the station searched him, and found£1 in gold, 8s. 6d. in silver, and 11 1/2 d. bronze, among it was a five-shilling piece and a half-crown.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at Chelmsford on April 4th, 1894. Seven other convictions were proved against him.—Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS METCALF and BIRON Prosecuted.
ELLEN GALLAGHER . I live at 27, Burgoyne Road, Blackheath—on May 4th, about 8.30 p.m., I was with Kate Ready, a friend, on the pavement at the Broadway, Stratford, doing some shopping—having taken my purse out to pay for some things, I had put it back with£1 gold and about 5s. 6d. silver, and some pence in it—I put my hand in my pocket to get my handkerchief, and found the prisoner's hand in my pocket—I took her by the cape and asked her for the purse—another woman was with her, who crossed the Broadway and ran away—the prisoner was then trying to get away—she said, "Come across the road in a dark place; I will give you the sovereign, and here is the silver"—a crowd gathered—she gave me the silver—a policeman came up—I gave her into custody.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I said to you, "Give me my purse, please," not "Did you see anyone pick up my purse?"—I did not leave you after you took your hand out of my pocket—the other woman was walking behind when I was coming out of the shop—a lot of women were standing together when you asked me into a dark place—I did not let go of you.
KATE READY . I am the wife of Arthur William Ready, of 48, West Road, Putney—I was with the last witness when the prisoner, who was with another woman, got her hand in Gallagher's pocket—Gallagher caught hold of the prisoner's cape—I said, "Cling to her, and I will go for the police"—the prisoner offered me some money, but I said, "No; let the police take it"—she asked me if I would feel in her pocket, and I said, "No; the police will do the same with that"—the other woman went away as fast as she could—the prisoner said, "For God's sake, take this, and say nothing about it."
Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate that I was looking in at a window at some photographs—at the same time I saw your hand in Gallagher's pocket.
GEORGE FERGUSON (K 811). I was crossing the Broadway, and saw Gallagher following the prisoner, and the way they were going aroused my suspicion that something was wrong—I followed, and asked Gallagher if I could do anything for her—she said that woman had taken her purse, and would not give it her back, and that she wanted her to go into the dark way and hand it to her—I said that I was a police officer, and she said she would give her into custody—I took the prisoner to the Police-station, where she was charged—she denied that she had stolen the purse.
Cross-examined. A lot of people were in the Broadway, but no one else following you—I was in plain clothes.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I plead guilty. I have been in prison before; please will you settle it here. I have no witnesses."
GUILTY**.—She then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court in June, 1887, in the name of Eliza Day; 10 other convictions were proved against her in different names.—Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. SYMONS Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.
MR. HARVEY Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
374. GEORGE AHMED RAMPLING (46) PLEADED GUILTY to marrying Sarah Ann Roberts, his wife being alive; also to marrying Esther Gray, his wife being alive; also to causing to be inserted in a marriage register a false entry relating to his marriage to Sarah Ann Roberts.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. PERROTT Prosecuted.
SARAH BRAITHWAITE . I live at 144, Lambeth Road, and am a widow—the prisoner is a married man, but I have lived with him as his wife for 18 months; his name is William Leaver—on May 3rd, about 11.30 a.m., I was in the Hercules public-house—we had a few words; he said he meant doing for me—I said, "Don't be so stupid as to talk like that; why don't you try to be peaceable with your family?"—I did not see it coming, but he drove a knife into me, and it stuck in my chin—he had had a drop to drink; he was not drunk—I went to the Police-station, and they charged him.
ERNEST HALL . I am a paper boy, of 6, Thorn Street, Kennington—on May 3rd, about 11.30, I was in the Hercules public-house—I saw the prisoner strike the prosecutrix—I did not see anything in his hand—I saw some blood coming from her, and I want and told a constable.
WILLIAM BOTT . I am a barman at the Hercules public-house, Kennington Road; about 11.30 on May 3rd the prosecutrix had a glass of ale; the prisoner came in and asked her to treat him; she refused—I went to the other end of the bar—I heard a woman call out, "I am
stabbed"—I jumped over the bar and called out to two men to stop the prisoner from going out; they caught hold of him—he was sober.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You did not come in together.
WILLIAM EVERSFIELD (194L). On May 3rd, at 11.45, I saw the prisoner being carried by four men into the Police-station—I followed them in, and a woman was brought in with her chin cut—she said the prisoner had stabbed her—I searched the prisoner and found a small knife in his right-hand inside coat pocket, and this large one in the outside pocket (Produced)—there were wet bloodstains on it—at the station he said, "I wish I had killed you, you dirty old cow!"—when charged he said, "It will be quick over; I can do seven years for her"—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk—he was struggling when the men brought him in.
Prisoner's Defence: I do not remember anything about it; I do not remember doing it. I was drunk, but I did not intend to do her any harm.
GUILTYof unlawfully wounding.
He had already been charged, and imprisoned for seven days for annoying the prosecutrix.—Nine Months' Hard Labour.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
JOHN WHEELER WYATT . I am a baker, of 171, Camberwell Road—on April 27th, about 9 o'clock, the prisoner came in for three-pennyworth of pieces, and gave me a bad sixpence of 1897—I told her she had given me a bad one previously—she said, "Give them to me back; I will give you a shilling for them"—I said, "I cannot do that," and sent for a constable and gave her in custody—the previous occasion was on April 24th, when she had three-pennyworth of pieces and gave me a sixpence, and I gave her the change and put the sixpence in my pocket—I had no other six-pence there, only a shilling—a man named Jordan came in and made a communication to me, and I looked at it and found it was bad—I put it ill the bar, and gave both coins to the police on the 27th.
FREDERICK SPEAR (269L). Mr. Wyatt gave the prisoner into my charge, and I charged her with uttering—she said that she got them by selling boot-laces—she had a purse in her hand in which were one shilling and a halfpenny—she was asked her address at the station, and said, "I have got none"—Mr. Wyatt handed me these two sixpences.
EMILY JORDAN . My husband is a greengrocer at 32, Layton Road, Camberwell—I know the prisoner as a customer—on April 20th she came in for some carrots, price 2d.; she gave me a sixpence, and I gave her the change and put the coin on the table—my husband took it up—the prisoner had then left—I looked at the coin, and it was bad—on April 24th the prisoner came again and paid me with another bad sixpence—I kept that also—she came again on the 27th and had to pay 2d.; she gave me a bad sixpence, and I said, "I cannot take any more of these"; she said, "Oh, my God! give it to me back"—I gave her two of them back, the one she gave me and one of the others, and said, "You always pay
with bad ones, I cannot take any more"—I marked the others, and gave them to Sergeant Gray.
LIZZIE EARL . I live with my parents at 52, Warren Road, Camberwell—the prisoner has lived in my house 11 months down to April 27th—she occupied the first floor back at 3s. a week—I do not know how she got her living; I have never seen her with any boot-laces, nor have I seen any in her room—I was there when Sergeant Gray searched the room, and saw some wire, a ladle, and a bottle found.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I found some buttons and cotton, a pen-knife, and a little saucepan, which you boiled eggs in, but no laces—you had parish relief—as a rule, you paid your rent on Wednesdays, but sometimes on Thursdays.
Re-examined. I have never seen any person pay her money.
FREDERICK GRAY (Police Sergeant, L). On April 30th I went to 52, Warren Road, Camberwell, searched the first floor back, and found a bottle of solution, a ladle by the fireplace, with some very small pieces of metal in it, a piece of wire, and a knife—I received this sixpence from Mrs. Jordan.
WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these sixpences are counterfeit—the one passed to Mrs. Jordan is from the same mould as one of the other two—the date is 1887, the other one is 1897—this bottle of acid has been used in a battery; this copper wire might or might not be used in coining—there is a trace of metal in the ladle, but nothing in the saucepan.
GUILTY . She then Pleaded Guilty to a conviction on June 27th, 1892, of feloniously uttering counterfeit coin. Three other convictions for like offences were proved against her, also one acquittal of uttering.—Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. FRITH Prosecuted.
GRAHAM SIMPSON . I am House Surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on April 18th, about 1 a.m., I saw the prosecutor; he was suffering from a stab at the back of his neck, which went down to the spine—it was a very dangerous cut—his left arm and left leg were both paralysed at once, but he has recovered the use of his leg, which is unusual—it was a violent stab.
AGNES DONOVAN . I am the wife of John Donovan, of Paradise Street, Rotherhithe—on April 17th, about 12 p.m., I was in the White Hart with my sister and my brother-in-law, Mr. Piket—when I went in the landlord's son was in the bar, and two men whom I did not know—my brother-in-law called for three drinks, and there were blows between Piket and Coleman—the prosecutor was sitting down having a drink—Coleman came over and spoke to Piket, and they had words and blows; not more than one blow at each other—Piket turned towards the bar, and the prisoner took his seat for three minutes—Piket came back for his drink, and Coleman struck him on the back; I do not know what with, but he fell, and said, "I am stabbed"—Coleman made away to the door, and we had a struggle till the police came.
Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I do not know which spoke first—
you were sitting together and had a few words—there was more between the stab and the blow—I held you outside on the ground till the police came—you told the police that I boxed your ears, but I did nothing of the kind.
LAURENCE MOORE (267M). On April 19th, at 12.15, I was called to Hickman's Folly, and saw the prisoner on his back and a woman bending over him—she said, "Policeman, this man has been stabbing my brother-in-law"—he said, "Yes; and I shall have to put up with it"—I arrested him, and went into the White Hart, and saw the wounded man sitting on a settle, unconscious—I took the prisoner to the station—he was quite sober—the inspector charged him with feloniously wounding—I do not remember what he said, but on the road to the station he said, "He hit me on the nose three times; if I had not had the weapon I should not have done it"—this knife, which is stained with blood, was picked up in my presence behind the door of the White Hart the same night—after Agnes Donovan gave her evidence before the Magistrate the prisoner said that he had got nothing to answer.
FRANK ANSTEAD . My mother keeps the White Hart, Rotherhithe—on April 17th, at a quarter to 12, Mrs. Piket came in and called for some brandy, and the prisoner accidentally knocked up against her—he said he was very sorry: but she would not accept it, and said she would fetch her husband—she came back in a quarter of an hour with another young woman—they called for drink, and Piket asked the prisoner why he interfered with his wife, and struck him the first blow, and after that the prisoner struck Piket on the back of his neck with his fist—I did not see anything in his hand—Piket dropped down unconscious—the prisoner stood still three or four minutes, and then went out, followed by Mrs. Donovan.
ARTHUR PIKET . I am a dock labourer, of 6, Cassona Place, Dockhead—I was at the White Hart with my wife and my sister-in-law, and saw the prisoner—I spoke to him—he said he did not know anything about my missus—I hit him in the face, and five minutes afterwards I went to take my glass of ale up, and he came behind me, and I do not know any more—he was a stranger to me—I cannot use my arm, and my leg is dumb, I have not got the same feeling as before.
Cross-examined. You said, "I did not know it was your mistress"—I said, "It would have been just the same if it had been anybody else's wife," and then I hit you.
HENRY FITZGERALD (Detective Sergeant). I am in charge of this case—after Agnes Donovan had given her evidence the prisoner made a voluntary statement from the dock—he said, "I went mad for a little time; I lost my temper, and I did not know what I was doing at the time," or words to that effect—there was something else, but I did not take a note of it.
The Prisoner, in his defence, on oath, stated that he apologised to Mrs. Piket when he was pushed against her, and that an hour afterwards her husband came in and struck him on his face three times and knocked him down, and made his mouth and nose bleed, and that he struck him in the
back with the knife produced in self-defence, as he had it open in his hand, sharpening a pencil.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding . He had previously been convicted of stabbing, when he was bound over to keep the peace.—Nine Months' Hard Labour.
378. JAMES CLARK (54) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a hammer and other tools, the property of Ernest Ayres, having been convicted at this Court on March 9th, 1897.— Several other convictions were proved against him.—Three Years' Penal Servitude. And
Before Mr. Justice Grantham.
MR. MARTIN Prosecuted.
Cross-examined. I did not go round the rick—I went round one side and then to the house; only one side of the rick was alight then.
GEORGE SHORT MILLER . I am a butcher, of Linwood, Upper Tooting—there are some fields at the back of my house—I was called on the morning of May 9th and found one of my hay ricks burning—there is no pathway to the rick: a man would have to cross one meadow it he came from the road, and if he came the other way he would have to cross three fields and some fences with barbed wire on them—when I got to the rick I saw some pieces of brushwood against it, and they were burning as well as the stack, which was all destroyed—the brushwood could have come from the bottom of another stack close by—the stack was worth £200 or£220.
Cross-examined. I was not asked anything about the brushwood at the Police-court.
HENRY RUSS (652W). I was in Lower Tooting at 2 a.m. on May 9th—I heard a whistle, and went across Mr. Miller's fields—I saw the rick burning—I met the prisoner running away—I ran after him and caught him—I asked him why he was running away—he said, "I have set that rick on fire"—he had run about 100 yards—I asked him why he did it—he said, "You had better go and find out"—he was three fields away from the rick then—I took him back with me to the rick, and afterwards to the station—he had a pipe in his mouth when I caught him, and at the station I found a box of matches on him (Produced)—he said he had no home.
Cross-examined. I did not go round the stack.
WILLIAM PALMER . I am a stockman to the prosecutor, and live on the farm premises—between 7 and 8 on the night previous to the fire I saw the stack all safe—about 2.30 a.m. I was called up by the police—I went to the stack, and saw a quantity of wood placed against the side of it—apparently it had been burning for some time, as it was nearly all
burnt—the fire was raging fiercely—the brushwood had been brought from a stack about 20 yards off,—it was not there the previous evening.
Cross-examined. The police saw the brushwood.
HENRY GODDARD (Detective Officer). I saw the prisoner at Tooting Police-station on May 9th—I told him I should have to make inquiries concerning him, and could he give me the name of any person who knew him, as the police made inquiries on behalf of prisoners as well as against them?—he replied, "No; I shall tell you nothing about myself; I have got to the end of my tether; I wanted to do something to be locked up, so I set fire to the rick"—I said, "It is a funny way to be locked up, to destroy a man's property, and then run away."
Cross-examined. On the first day at the Police-court there was only sufficient evidence taken for a remand to be granted.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not tell the officer I set fire to the haystack to get locked up; it is quite wrong; I said I would say nothing about my friends; when the constable saw me going away he asked me what I was doing; I said I was just lighting my pipe, and I threw a match away, and it blazed up; he asked me if I had tried to put it out; I said, 'No, it was too big'; I had a pipe at the station; I went there to sleep; I could not sleep; I had five or six pipes; I threw the last match down, and it blazed up instantly."
The Prisoner, in a written defence, said that he would Plead Guilty to setting the stack on fire; that he threw a match down, and the stack instantly blazed up; that, seeing that it was useless to try and put it out, he walked away; that he had no motive for setting fire to it, as the owner was quite unknown to him.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on May 16th, 1896; and numerous other convictions were proved against him.—Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
381. ARCHER EDWARDS (42), and JESSIE EDWARDS (35) Having the care and custody of Jessie Edwards the younger, and six other children, did unlawfully and wilfully neglect them in a manner likely to cause them unnecessary suffering and injury to their health.
MESSRS. MUIR, STEPHENSON, and JAY Prosecuted.
RICHARD WINDALL . I am a builder's forman, and live at 25, Long-croft Road, Camberwell—the prisoners lived at 12, Longcroft Road, from June to the middle of December—I believe there were seven children—I have often been into their house, and have often seen the children, who were always filthy dirty; and alive with vermin; what little clothing they had was very ragged and very dirty—I went there because I had to do repairs in the house—I asked the mother why she did not wash the children—she said she would, and that afternoon she washed them—I never saw them have any food; they did not seem at all well fed—I generally left at 1 o'clock and returned at 2, but I never saw any sign of any food—I gave the children 2d. on one occasion, and 1 1/2 d. on another, and once I gave them my lunch, because I thought they were hungry; two of the little girls ate it—one night I saw them out between 10 and 11—I did not see what they did with the money I gave them—the father was always dressed respectably—once I asked him why he did not leave
the house to save further trouble, because they were under notice to leave; he said he could not afford to stay at home to look for other apartments, as he would lose 8s. or 9s. a day; I do not know which he said—they had had notice to leave, because the sanitary authorities had been in about the filth and dirt, and also they owed a lot of rent—I did not notice any difference in their apartments after October.
Cross-examined by Archer Edwards. I think the first time I came to your house was in July; you were not at home then; I did some sanitary work then—I was there long enough to see that the children were filthily dirty—in November I was there about a month—I saw you on three occasions, and twice to speak to; once in your own kitchen, and once in Mrs. Pursell's office—I went to see you at your house to ask you to go out without any further trouble—Mrs. Pursell authorised me to see you—when I saw you in her office you told me to mind my own business—that is not why I am here to-day—I do not know what date that was—I do not know when you had notice to leave—I do not know if you were in employment all the time while you were at Longcroft Road—you were never at home when I called for rent—I called four times for rent on four separate Saturday evenings—I think I saw your eldest daughter on each occasion—I only gave your children bread and butter once, and money twice.
JANE PURSELL . I am married, and live at 93, Albany Road, Camberwell—I collected the rents of 12, Longcroft Road, while the prisoners occupied rooms there—I went there about three times a week on behalf of Mr. T. G. Walker, of 8, Ironmonger Lane—they rented three rooms—I think they underlet one of them—the rent was 7s. a week—there are nine rooms in the house—the prisoners were on the ground floor—I have seen the children when I went there—they were in a very dirty state, and had scarcely any clothing—they looked very ill—I never saw them have any food—I went between 1 and 2 as a rule—the rooms were in a disgusting state when the prisoners went away—there were no beds—there was an old bedstead, but I do not think there was anything on it, except old rags—in consequence of what I saw in October, I went to the children's grandmother, on the wife's side—they were ejected in November, but stayed on quite a month in an empty room, with no doors or windows—nobody allowed them to do so, but they went there to sleep till I threatened to have them arrested if they went there any more—I went to the grandmother again, and she promised to look after them, and they did not come there again—when they were ejected they owed about£5 for rent—two other families occupied the house—I collected the rents from them—they were not very nice people, so I emptied the house.
Cross-examined by Archer. I went to see your wife's mother to see if she could do something—it was not to get the rent—I knew you were out of employment during part of your tenancy—I did not go to your house at 9 a.m.—one of my workmen took the window out of the empty room—all the children were dirty, and the one that died was in a horrible state.
CHARLES KING . I live at 6, Larissa Street, Walworth—on December 6th a Mr. and Mrs. Warren took a back room there, and about a week afterwards I saw the prisoners and their children there, coming in and
out—the children were in a very dirty and emaciated condition—the father always looked respectable—the mother looked about the same as the children; she looked dirty and ill—I noticed the children had lice crawling about them, and I noticed the mother killing things in the washhouse—I saw four of the children on Christmas Day, lying cuddled behind the front door in a space about 3 ft. square; they looked very like a lot of pups—they were on some old sacking—one of the children, Ruby, looked better than the others, except the eldest boy, and he was about the same as Ruby—there were 12 of them in this one room for four months; that included the Warrens—my room faced theirs on the same floor—I have seen one or two of the children sitting on the stairs, crying for food.
Cross-examined by Archer. I have heard them ask for food 8 or 9 or 12 different times—Percy asked for it—when you left, all the children looked fit to go into their coffins—the Warrens took the room a little over a fortnight before Christmas, and you came in soon after.
PORTER SMITH . I am a surgeon, and practise at 103, East Street, Woolwich—I know both prisoners—I attended the woman five or six years ago—I saw the child, Lily, in the beginning of this year—I had attended it about three or four years ago—the first time I saw her this year was March 12th—I was told she was 8 1/2 years old—she was brought to my surgery by the mother—she was pale and thin, suffering from bronchitis—the mother said that it had been suffering from diarrhoea—the child's head had a great number of lice about it—its face was washed clean, and the hands, but I had some of its clothes removed in order to examine its chest, and that was not so clean—the clothing was all right—it was not well nourished, but that might be accounted for by the diarrhoea—I told the mother to take it home and give it a hot bath, and put it to bed, to cut her hair off and bathe her head with carbolic solution, and I gave her a bottle of medicine—I asked for her address, but she did not give it, and I did not press it because I thought her husband was out of work, and could not pay for visiting—she came on one or two occasions to get the medicine repeated, and she brought the child again on March 26th—part of its hair had been cut off, but not sufficient, and it had still some lice on it—it was no better—she came down for more medicine after that, and on April 5th she came and said the child was dead, and asked me for a certificate, which I gave her—the dirty state of the child would cause it unnecessary suffering and injury to its health.
Cross-examined by Archer. The child was no better on the second occasion when I saw it—I do not think it was any cleaner—the dirt of the child was not sufficient to cause death, so I could not refuse a certificate—I told the mother on the second occasion that she had not carried out my directions, and I asked her why.
JAMES WILLIAM MONK . I am relieving officer of St. Saviour's Mission—on April 10th I went to 38, Villa Street, Walworth, where I saw the female prisoner and six children—they rented three rooms—I first went into the kitchen, where some of the children were huddled near the fireplace, where there was a small fire—the mother was at a table; she apparently had been trying to wash the face of Bertie, aged 6, and there was just a patch where the dirt had been—I examined Jessie first; her hair
was matted and full of vermin; her dress was a little open in front, and I asked her to move it a little more, when I saw sores and vermin mixed with them—Percy, aged 12, was not so bad, his head was full of vermin; but he looked better in health, and he seemed less dirty—Ruby, aged 10, was one of those crouching near the fire; I saw she was very, very ill; her head was full of vermin, and all about her person—Bertie was near his mother, who was trying to wash him in a basin; his head was full of vermin—Harold, aged 4, was in a filthy and horrible condition; you could hardly tell whether he was a white or black child—Violet, aged 7 1/2 months, was being nursed by Jessie; she was also very dirty, with vermin about her person and head—the whole of them were sparsely clad—they seemed as if they had no life in them—I did not see the dead child—I asked the mother what food they had; she made no answer—there was a cupboard in the room—I opened the door, and all I could find wasabouta tablespoonful of some mixture which she said was jam, and about 1 oz. of sugar—she said, "I have some money, and I will send for some"—she had seven or eightcoppers—she said, "I was just going to send for some, and give them their supper"—the room was in a state of disorder—there was a bedstead standing against the wall; it was not fitted—there was a back room with nothing in it—in the front room, which was used as a bedroom, there were three bundles of rags in three corners of the room—one only had the resemblance of a mattress—that seemed like a small chair-bedstead, but it stunk horribly—I turned the rags about, and the amount of vermin was almost indescribable—I have never seen a more shocking case in my 30 years' experience—I was told something about the foot-pan, in which the woman was trying to wash Bertie—I sent for Dr. Ashley, and I sent the children to the workhouse—the clothing the dustmen took away with pitchforks; they would not touch it with their hands—Ruby was very bad, and the doctor had to administer a restorative—I saw her this morning, and there is a splendid difference in her—I saw the male prisoner, and gave him into custody—I asked him if his name was Archer Edwards—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I shall give you into custody for this gross neglect to your family"—he said, "I thought it would come to this; I intended to give myself up."
Cross-examined by Archer. I do not think I was asked at the Police-court what you said to me when I said I should give you into custody.
DAVID PATTERN . I am an officer of the National Society for prevention of Cruelty to Children; I was called to 38, Villa Street, Walworth, by Mr. Monk, and went there on April 10th about 10 p.m.—I heard the statement made by Archer.
Cross-examined by Archer. You told me that you knew it would come to this; that was up in the room; at the workhouse you said to your wife, "This means imprisonment for us"—at the Court you said you had not seen the things for a fortnight, because they had been, round at your mother's; I took that to refer to the furniture—you said you had intended to take the children to the workhouse to have them properly cleansed, and pay for them—on the 18th you said that you had no idea that the things were so bad as they were; that every Saturday you used to take home groceries, and that the children had plenty of food on Sundays, and that you left enough money on other days to carry them through the day.
By the COURT. The female prisoner told me that her husband allowed her 8d. or 9d. a day, and sometimes 1s., and on Saturdays 7s. or 8s.—the male prisoner said he gave her 1s. a day and 8s. or 9s. on Saturdays—they did not say who paid the rent.
JESSIE MAUDE EDWARDS . I am 15; I shall be 16 on November 1st—my father's names are Archer Cooper Edwards, and my mother's Jessie Edwards—I do not know what her maiden name was—my brother, Percy Joseph, will be 14 on May 7th next year—Ruby Isabella was 11 years old on May 17th; Lily Christina Gertrude will be 9 on July 26th; Bertie William will be 7 on December 19th; Harold Augustus 4 on March 25th; Violet, which is her only name, will be 12 months old on August 28th—I was living with my father and mother up to April 10th—in October last we were living at 12, Longcroft Road—we had three rooms there—Mr. and Mrs. Warren and their little girl lived there in one room—mother and Mrs. Warren always went out from 10 a.m. till 6 p.m.—I did not know where they went—my mother was not always sober—my brother has seen her in public-houses—after we left Longcroft Road we went to 6, Larissa Street, where we lived four months—my mother went out as before—on April 7th we went to Villa Street—Lily died two days before we left—my father used to give mother 8s. every Saturday and 1s. at nights and 1s. in the mornings—I have seen him give her the money—father paid the rent—we used to sleep on the floor, we had no bed-clothes—we did not undress at nights—we never took off our clothes—we washed our faces and hands every morning; our bodies were never washed—we had plenty of food when Dada was at home—when he was at work we did not have so much, because mother used to go out—father has been at work since October—he did not go to work before that—we were cleaner when father was at home, because he used to wash us—at Christmas time we stayed at Larissa Street—we used to go out every day because we were afraid of the sanitary inspector coming in—we slept on the floor at Larissa Street—there was a window and a door to the room—it was Mrs. Warren's room—she took us in—there was the whole of our family and the whole of the Warren family in the one room—in the daytime we used to go and stay in the park—for food we had bread and butter, and about once a week we had bacon and some potatoes—we had dinner and tea every day of bread and butter—mother used to leave it, and I gave it to Percy and Ruby when they came home from school—we had bread and butter and tea for breakfast—Percy, Bertie, Ruby, and Harold went to school—Percy had a ticket given him at school, and he got food there—while the others were at school I stayed at home if Mrs. Warren was out—mother used to take the baby with her—Mrs. Warren and mother were out in the public-houses all day—they were not sober when they came home at night—Ruby was not always allowed in the room, Mrs. Warren kept her out—she used to stop in the passage—it was in the winter time—she was turned out because Mrs. Warren did not like her—mother was there and saw it—father knew she was kept out of the room—he used to bring her in at night-time—he did not come home till night-time—he came home about 8 p.m.—father had meals at home—he used to send me for it—he used to have bacon one night and liver and bacon another—
he used to bring the liver home himself—we all had some of it—the clothes we had on on April 10th were the same as we had during the winter—father said that if mother went out again he would stop giving her money, and he did stop it—he gave it to me—he gave me 6d. for dinner, and at night-time he sent me for tea, sugar, and bread—mother was doing the housekeeping on April 10th—when Mr. Pattern came on April 10th mother was just sending for some food—there was nothing in the cupboard in the morning—Lily died on April 5th, at 8.10 a.m.—the day before that mother was out all day—Mrs. Warren was not at home.
Cross-examined by Archer. You used to buy the meat for Sunday's dinner—they were large pieces—you used to pay for the coal and coke—that was besides the money you gave me—you bought me a dress, and Percy some knickers and things, and something for Ruby—we used to have clean chemises once a week—the dress you bought for me was not quite big enough, and you told me to tell mother to take it back and change it—she did not do so—I did not tell you, because mother banged me—she used to hit me when you were out; she never touched Ruby—I used to give Lily the brandy and milk which you left when mother was out—you never kept us short of food—you tried to clean our heads, and told mother to wash our heads every day—there was glass in the window at Longcroft Road—the door was taken off; it was taken off to drive us out—we did not go because we had not got a place to go to—we did not go back there after we were turned out—we stayed one night with Aunt Chris, and then we went to Mrs. Warren's—you washed all the clothing when we were at Longcroft Road—we had plenty of clean clothes then—you were out every night before you came home from work, looking for rooms—mother was supposed to be looking for rooms during the day—you said you would stop mother's money because she went out drinking with it, but you used to give her some, and me the other.
By the COURT. I used to go to work, but I got ill, and then mother kept me at home while she went out to look for a place—my brother, who is 12, went to school—housed to have a clean shirt every week, and went to school in long trousers and a coat and waistcoat—we could not wash ourselves at Mrs. Warren's; she would not let us bathe ourselves—the children were sent home from school because of the dirtiness of their clothes.
By Archer Edwards. Only Bertie, Ruby, and Harold were sent home, not Percy.
PERCY EDWARDS . I am 13—the prisoners are my father and mother—my father used to give mother 8s. on Saturdays and sometimes more; on other days he gave her 1s., and sometimes 1s. 6d.—I have fetched beer for mother—I have seen her and Mrs. Warren in public-houses—on Christmas-day Ruby and I were kept outside the house till father came home at teatime—we were put out in the morning—we always had plenty to eat—we had bread and butter, and sometimes meat and potatoes two or three times a week—there were weeks when we did not get any meat.
Cross-examined by Archer. It was not Christmas-day that were kept outside—a man told me to say it was Christmas-day—you took us
out and bought us some nuts and oranges, and we had a party on Christmas-day—you bought the meat on Saturday nights; sometimes large and sometimes small pieces—you sometimes bought us beef and sometimes leg of mutton—mother went to the butcher's shop sometimes during the week and bought food—I was never kept away from school—you bought us plenty of clothes; sometimes mother used to, too—I often went with you at night to look for lodgings.
Re-examined. That is the gentleman who told me to make the statement about Christmas-day (Pointing to someone in Court.)—he said it was Christmas-day, and I thought it was, but it was Boxing-day, I think—I was kept out because some boys threw stones at Mrs. Warren's door, and then said it was me—we did not get any chance of washing ourselves—I used to earn 1s. 6d. a week at the fish-shop—I did not see what happened at home during the day, I was at school—I am in the Fourth standard now.
FRANCES GEOFFS . I am a nurse at St. Saviour's Workhouse—the prisoners' children came to the workhouse on April 10th—they were in a most filthy condition—I had to clean them and cut off their hair and destroy all their clothes—Ruby was very bad—she was sent to the infirmary—they had to keep to their beds till April 24th, because their bodies were rubbed with oil, so they could not go about.
Cross-examined by Archer. They could not have been attended to by the mother as they ought; she was as bad as the children.
JOHN FREDERICK WILLIAMS . I am medical officer of Newington Work-house—on April 11th, between 8 and 9, I saw all the children there, except Lily—the mother and the children were all suffering from the effects of neglect—there were sores on the scalps, the hair had been removed—the glands of the necks were enlarged owing to irritation, and their bodies were covered with small sores and flea-bites—Percy was in a very much better condition than the others—none of them showed signs of starvation—Ruby is now doing well—their state would cause unnecessary suffering, and would be injurious to their health—Dr. Ashley, the medical officer of St. Saviour's Union, is quite unable to travel to-day.
ALBERT KENDAL . I am a printer, of 429, Brixton Road, and have employed the male prisoner constantly since October last till April 10th—his average wages were 34s. to 36s. a week; it has been over £2, and sometimes less than 34s.—I never found fault with him.
ARTHUR NEIL (Police Sergeant, L). On April 11th I saw Lily in her coffin at the Newington Mortuary—the face and hands had been washed—the head was in a filthy condition—I was present when Dr. Ashley gave his evidence—he is not here—(Dr. Ashley's deposition was here read, dating that he had examined Jessie Edwards, aged 15; that her head and body were swarming with lice; that Percy had lice on his head and body; that Ruby was badly nourished, and had lice on her head and body; that Bertie was in a similar condition; that Violet had a cough, and was in a filthy condition; and that, in his opinion, the children were caused unnecessary suffering and injury to their health.)
Archer Edwards, in his defence, on oath, said that he did not know that the children were neglected, as he was out all day; that he provided money
for their food; that he washed them himself, and told his wife to look to them, but that she did not do so; that he knew they were not as they should have been, but that he was trying to improve their condition.
ARCHER EDWARDS— NOT GUILTY; JESSIE EDWARDS— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JUNE 25TH, 1900.