CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SEVENTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 22ND, 1901.
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., K.C.
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
SESSIONS VII. to XII.
STEVENS AND SONS, LIMITED, 119, CHANCERY LANE,
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On the King's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, April 22nd, 1901, and following days,
Before the Right Hon. FRANK GREEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; the Right Hon. Sir WALTER GEORGE FRANK PHILLIMORE, Knt., one of the Justices of His Majesty's High Court; Sir HENRY EDMUND KNIGHT, Knt.; Sir DAVID EVANS , K.C.M.G.: Sir JOSEPHRENALS, Bart.: Aldermen of the said City; Sir FORREST FULTON, K.C., Recorder of the said City; JOHN POUND, Esq.; FREDERICK PRAT ALLISTON, Esq.; THOMAS VEZEY STRONG, Esq.; HENRY GEORGE SMALLMAN, Esq., and THOMAS BOOR CROSBY, Esq., M.D., other of the Aldermen of the said City; and ALBERT BOSANQUET, Esq., K.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; His Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol Delivery; holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
WALTER VAUGHAN MORGAN, Esq., Alderman.
JOSEPH LAWRENCE, Esq.
JOSEPH DAVID LANGTON, ESq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
GREEN, MAYOR. SEVENTH 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, April 22nd, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
303. JULIUS LOVENHEIM (24) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling £1, and within six months £4 7s., and within six months £3, the moneys of Henry Detloff, his master. The prisoner's defalcations amounted to £49 4s. 6d .— Nine months in the second division.
304. WILLIAM BLACKWELL (29) , to attempting to steal a watch and chain from the person of William Wright. Seven other convictions were proved against him, including two terms of penal servitude.— Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
305. EDWIN CHARLES DURAN (19), (a soldier), to forging a request for the payment of £1 13s.; also to forging an order for the withdrawal of £1 13s. from the Post Office Savings Bank.— Six months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
306. DANIEL DAWKINS (19) , to stealing, while employed in the Post Office, two post letters containing 12s., 10s.. and 2s. 6d. the property of the Postmaster-General. Four hundred and ninety-four stolen post letters were found at the prisoner's rooms.— Eighteen months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
307. WILLIAM ARMSTRONG (28), to stealing three post letters containing postal orders for 5s., 5s., and five stamps and 18 coupons.— Ten months' hard labour. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(308) FREDERICK WILLIAM SMITH (20), CHARLES TAYLOR (23), and ROBERT BROWN (26) , to robbery on Newman Marks, and stealing from his person 17s., Taylor and Brown having been convicted at this Court on May 20th, 1895. One other conviction was proved against Taylor, and 11 against Brown.— TAYLOR— Twelve months' hard labour; BROWN— Five yeas' penal servitude; SMITH— Discharged on recognizances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted.
running away—I ran after him, shouting, "Stop thief!"—I saw him arrested—he asked me in German not to press the charge, as he was a German.
SOLOMON LEVINSKI . I am a tailor, of 4, Alley Place, Aldgate—I was in.; Cohen's place on the morning of April 6th—I saw the prisoner standing on the stairs—when I went up, the door, which was afterwards broken open, was locked—I was having a shave, and heard a noise—.; Cohen ran after the prisoner—I afterwards saw him at the station, and identified him.
HERMANN KANTOROWICH . I am a dentist, and have a workroom at 18, Aldgate High Street—on the Thursday before April 6th I left the place safely locked up by a padlock, as well as by a lock and key—there were instruments and furniture in the room—on April 6th, when I went there, the door had been opened, the staple had been drawn out, the other lock was open also—I believe the prisoner had been up there a few days before, begging.
EDWARD TRUELOVE (33, City Sergeant). At 9 a.m. on April 6th I examined the outer door at the back of 18, Aldgate High Street—the door of the room had apparently been secured with two screw-eyes and a padlock; one was screwed through a piece of beading into the doorpost, and the other into the door; the padlock passed through the two eyes—the screw-eye which had been fixed to the doorpost had been drawn out, and this piece of beading had been split—the lock of the door was unlocked—if the owner locked it when he went away, someone must have unlocked it, or else the bolt would have still been shot—nothing was disturbed in the place—the door was about 18in. open—at the station the prisoner said, "I only went there to beg"—two keys and some memoranda were found on him—neither of the keys fitted the door.
ROBERT LYON (Detective Sergeant, City). I have tried the door with these two keys (Produced); neither of them fits—the prisoner gave an address at Millar's Lodging House—I went there—he is known there, but does not live there,
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, and in his defence, said that he went up the stairs, and was leaning against the door, when it gave way; that he did not go there to steal; and that he had no tools to break the door in with.
GUILTY .— Twelve months' hard labour.
.; HODGSON Prosecuted.
WILLIAM SYKES . I am a watchmaker, of 8, Cullum Street, City—on April 6th, shortly after midnight, I was passing through Commercial Street towards Whitechapel—I suddenly received a severe kick or blow on my ankle, I cannot say who from—I fell down, and in getting up I saw the prisoner alongside me—he was alone—he said, "I will help
you"—he assisted me off the ground—I asked him if I was right for Venables Corner—he said, "I am going that way myself, chum"—he walked along for a few yards on my left side, and he suddenly gave me a terrible blow on my mouth, which knocked me down—he started going through my pockets—he was leaning over me—there was nobody about just at that spot—he tried to get my watch, but I held on to that; then he felt in my left-hand trousers pocket, and took away my keys—he did not get any money, as I had it in another pocket—the blow I received knocked me silly for a time—my tip was cut, and I had a black eye for about a week—the prisoner broke away with my keys, and a constable came up—I was quite sober.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not see you before I fell down the first time—I am sure you are the man who struck me in the mouth.
SAMUEL COOMBER . I live at 789, Commercial Road—I was in Commercial Street about 12.45 on April 7th—I saw the prosecutor in the road with the prisoner on top of him—I walked over towards them, and the prisoner ran away—I afterwards saw a constable bring the prisoner back.
Cross-examined. I did not see you strike the prosecutor.
WILLIAM GILDER (298 H). I was on duty in Commercial Street on the night of April 6th—I saw the prosecutor and the prisoner struggling on the ground—on going towards them, the prisoner got up and ran away—I ran and caught him after he had gone about 300 yards—I found two bunches of keys in his right hand—he said, "I have not got anything, governor"—I took him into custody—he broke away, and was stopped by Police-constable 278—he was violent—I blew my whistle, and he snatched it from my mouth.
Cross-examined. It took four policemen to take you to the station.
By the COURT. He was quite sober.
HENRY RICHARDSON (287 H). I was on duty in this neighbourhood on the night of April 6th—I heard a whistle blown at the corner of Wentworth Street—I ran towards the place, and saw the prisoner running away—I ran after him, and caught him—he threw himself to the ground, and it took four policemen to take him to the station—at the station, in answer to the charge, he said, "You have made a mistake this time, governor; I have been going straight since I have done my last stretch."
Cross-examined. I did not see you strike the prosecutor.
The Prisoner's defence: I was drunk, and going home to my wife and children. I do not remember anything about it. I do not know how I got into the prosecutor's company.
GUILTY .†—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at this Court on September 12th, 1899, and nine other convictions were proved against him.— Five years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, April 22nd, 1901.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
312. THOMAS WILMOT , to stealing a watch from the person of Stephen Aldridge, after a conviction at Clerkenwell on February 7th, 1899, as Thomas Cope . Four other convictions were proved against him .— Three years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And
(313) JANE HILL (37) , to stealing a sealskin cape, the property of Florence McKenzie, after a conviction at Chelmsford on February 22nd, 1899. Other convictions were proved against her.— Twelve months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
The JURY considered that the coin was not counterfeit, it being a worn farthing, and not gilded.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.
EDITH COX . I am barmaid at the White Hart, Wigmore Street, Cavendish Square—on April 1st, about noon, I served the prisoner with some whisky and a cigar, price 6d.—he put this coin (Produced) down on the counter, and said nothing—I took it up, bent it with my teeth, and took it to Miss Dehem, the landlord's daughter, who went out, and came back as the prisoner was leaving, and they stopped him—he was perfectly sober.
LOUISE DEHEM . I assist my father, who keeps the White Hart—on April 1st the last witness showed me this bent coin—I went out by another door, and sent for a policeman—when I returned, the prisoner was just coming out, and I said, "Will you stop here a few minutes till somebody comes?"—he said that he wanted to go to the w.c.—I said that he must not—I never mentioned the coin—a constable arrived, and I gave him the coin in the prisoner's presence—he said nothing.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not bring the policeman with me, he came three or four minutes afterwards—he asked you if you had any more money in your pockets, and you took your money out.
CHARLES HANCOCK (110 D). On April 1st I was called to the White Hart, and found the prisoner there—the last witness said in his presence that he had tendered the coin, and that it was bad—I asked him if he had tendered it, and he said, "Yes"—I asked him if he knew it was bad—he made no reply—he was perfectly sober, but he feigned drunkenness both at the Police-court and station—the charge was heard the same day; two hours and a half afterwards—I searched him in the White Hart, and found two shillings, four sixpences, and two pence in his trousers pocket—he gave his address at a common lodging-house in Drury Lane—I found that he was a casual lodger there—ne also gave the name of a person whom he said he had worked for, but I could hear nothing of him there.
GUILTY .—Two other convictions were proved against him.— Six months' hard labour.
SAMUEL GEORGE LILY . I am a silk agent, of 19 and 20, Gutter Lane, first floor—on the evening of March 26th I was in my office; a boy ran in and said something—I ran downstairs and saw Mr. Coley's place below was in darkness—that was the ground floor—the door was open, and by the light outside I saw the prisoner standing in the middle of the warehouse with this piece of string—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "I am waiting for James"—I asked him again, and he made the same reply—I said, "Where is Mr. James?"—he said, "Upstairs"—my boy went for a constable, and returned with one, and the prisoner got out on the door-step and made come remark about James—the constable said, "Before you go away I want to know something more about you," and took him back into the warehouse—farther assistance came, and we searched the place, but could not find anyone else—the constable asked him again—he said that he had been drinking, and he supposed he most have wandered into the place—he showed no signs of drink; he was perfectly sober—there is no one named James—he said, "Those who have broken into the place must have got away."
CHARLES WESTON (506, City). On March 26th I was fetched to 19, Gutter Lane, and saw the prisoner coming out at the door—someone inside said, "That is the burglar"—I stopped him, and asked what he was doing there—he said that he was waiting for Mr. James—I asked him where Mr. James was—he said, "Gone upstairs, but never mind, I will see Mr. James to-morrow"—I said that I could not let him go till I heard more about him and Mr. James—I sent for assistance, and another constable came and took him to the station—he was quite sober.
FREDERICK BRENCHLEY . On March 26th I was fetched to Mr. Coley's warehouse—the padlock had been forced off the door, and the box lock forced, apparently with this jemmy—there were marks on the door corresponding with it in size—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found this small memorandum-book, which has references in it to Gutter Lane—he has a large pocket in the lining of his undercoat about 18in. long; long enough to take this jemmy—when charged he said, "I had been there before; I had been drinking, and I ought to be flogged"—he did not show signs of drink—he made no reply when the charge was read over to him.
WALTER WILLIAM RANCELING . I am Mr. Coley's nephew and porter—I fastened up the place on the 26th, locked the door, and placed a padlock on it—next morning, at 8.30, I went there, and the padlock was gone, and handcuffs placed on the door, which had been tampered with—I found jemmy marks—this jemmy does not belong to the place—I found this canvas wrapper on the counter, which did not belong to the place; it had been brought there—this piece of string was also brought in—there is no Mr. James in the firm.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I was not the one that used the instrument produced. I had been drinking with a man I knew a few years ago. I met him in Aldgate; we had several drinks, too many. It was his intention of doing this place. I walked down after him after it was done, I suppose. I had no intention of doing such a thing." He repeated this statement in his defence.
GUILTY .—The police stated that there had been two or three cases.
housebreaking every week in the neighbourhood, but none since the prisoner had been incustody.— Nine months' hard labour.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 23rd, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
317. WILLIAM YETTON (39) PLEADED GUILTY to maliciously damaging a pane of glass, the property of Alfred Lyons and another. He had been seven times in custody for like offences.— Eighteen months' hard labour.
318. JAMES BENNETT (23) , to stealing a watch, the pro perty of Joseph Henry Harriott; also to stealing a purse, a handkerchief, and 21s. from the person of George Ernest Howes; also to stealing a watch and chain, the property of Percy Douglas Southey, having been convicted of felony at this Court on March 12th, 1900. Three other convictions were proved against him.— Four years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
320. CHARLES HUTCHINSON PHILLIPS (38) , to forging a bill of exchange for £55 10s.; also to forging a bill of exchange for £65 12s. 6d.; also to forging a bill of exchange and the endorsement upon it for £60; also to forging a bill of exchange for £62; also to forging and uttering a promissory note for £150, in each case with intent to refraud.— Eighteen months' hard labour. And [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
(321) GEORGE HART (61) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Duncan Moon, and stealing two ladles and other articles, his property, having been convicted of felony at Clerkenwell on March 9th, 1891, as Henry Phillips. Six other convictions were proved against him, including three terms of penal servitude.— Five years' penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. STEPHENSON and MR. JAY Prosecuted.
JOHN WATKINS . I am a district messenger—on April 4th, about 3.10 p.m., the prisoner came into our office at 17, London Street, Paddington—he told the sergeant, or head boy, to send a boy to 29, Seymour Street—I was told to go—the prisoner went out first, and I followed—he gave me this letter (Produced), addressed to 279, Edgware Road, and said I need not go to Seymour Street, but to go to 279, Edgware Road with the letter and to wait a reply—he said it contained a cheque, which I was to cash, and bring the money to him at 29, Seymour Street—I took the letter to 279, Edgware Road, and gave it to Mr. Bowron, who took it in to the clerk, who came out and told me something—as I was going round the corner into Seymour Street I met the prisoner—he asked me if I had the cash—I said, "No," and told him that Mr. Bowron would send no cash out except by his own men—the prisoner said, "You need not go back to 29, Seymour Street; you can go back to the office"—he turned round to go to Edgware Road—I met Mr. Mitchell, Mr. Bowron's clerk—we both followed the prisoner, who spoke to another man—Mr. Mitchell went up to the prisoner, and asked him what he had asked me—the prisoner said he had asked me the way to Seymour Street—Mr. Mitchell told him that he had asked me for the cash—the prisoner was given in charge.
JOHN BOWRON . I am the son of Mr. William Bowron, of 279, Edgware Road—the last witness brought me this envelope, unsealed—it contained this letter and this cheque—the letter says: "Kindly oblige messenger with cash, and enclose cheque for £7 12s.—W. DYCE BROWN"—I told the boy we would send down about it.
EDWARD THOMAS MITCHELL . I am clerk to Mr. Bowron, provision merchant, of 279, Edgware Road—on April 4th, from something I was told, I followed the messenger boy after he left the shop—I saw him meet the prisoner—I walked by them, and heard the prisoner say, "Have you got the change?"—the prisoner was alone then—when he left the boy I went up to him, and in consequence of what he told me we followed the prisoner, who had gone into the Edgware Road—I saw him in conversation with another man—I went up to them and said, "You are both detained"—the other man ran away—I took the prisoner to the Marble Arch and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not detain you at once because I wanted the boy to confirm what I had heard.
DAVID DYCE BROWN . I live at 29, Seymour Street, and am a doctor—I know nothing whatever about this cheque; it is not endorsed by me—this letter and envelope are not in my writing, or written by my authority—I have never seen the prisoner before I saw him at the Police-court—someone wrote to me the day before, asking for an appointment—I answered, and signed it in the usual way, giving an appointment—this signature resembles mine—I think the letter sent to me and the letter sent to Mr. Bowron are in the same writing.
FRANK MITCHELL (122 D). I took the prisoner—he said, "I know nothing at all about it; they must have made a mistake"—at the station, when charged, he said, "It must be a clever person who can prove I signed those documents."
HENRY WATSON BENNETT . My business address is Granville House, Arundel Street—I had an account at the Covent Garden Branch of the London and County Bank—it was closed at the end of 1896—this (Produced) is not my writing or my name—I have missed my cheque-book—after the account was closed I retained the cheque-book.
ARTHUR WALTER MELVILLE WELLS . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank, Covent Garden Branch—I produce the cheque register—this cheque wan issued to Mr. H. W. Bennett on July 9 th, 1895—we have not a customer on our books named Mortimer, as far as I know.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:"Mr. Bowron's messenger said he only heard me say 'cash' when he was giving me in charge, not 'change.' He must have mistaken me for the other man."
The prisoner, in his defence, said that he did not give the boy any letter or document to take to the prosecutor; that he was not in London Street at the time; that he did not know Dr. Brown or Mr. Bowron, so could not have written the letter; and that he did not ask the boy for the cash, but simply the way to Seymour Street. GUILTY of uttering.
Mr. Bennett stated that he employed a boy named Charles Peach, who was supposed to be the prisoner's younger brother, and that the cheque-book was generally kept under lock and key.
Eigteen months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 23rd, 1901.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
CHRISTOPHER ROBERT CUFF . I am senior Registrar of the Westminster County Court—under Sec. 28, County Courts Act, 1888, I produce certified extracts from the County Court books, showing proceedings against the defendant John Martin Gurrin, signed by my colleague, Charles Ernest Cuff—I find a judgment in the Queen's Bench Division of July 24th, 1896, in favour of the Bell Punch Printing Company, Limited, against John Gurrin, trading as Abbott & Co., for £29—on March 22nd, 1900, the defendant was brought in custody to me by the bailiff, Loote Jeffery, when this affidavit was put before me, partially prepared on a printed form supplied at the County Court—the names of the plaintiff and defendant were filled in, and the affidavit commenced "John Gurrin, of 79, New Oxford Street"—I struck out the words "County Court, holden at Westminster," and put in "said Court," so, that it reads. "Under the Debtors' Act an order was made, in pursuance of order of the said Court"—the amount was £10 14s. 4d.—the second paragraph consists of two alternate clauses, one containing the words, "I was adjudicated bankrupt," the other, "A receiving order was made"—the date of March 16th, 1900, had been tilled in in both—I called the defendant's attention to it, and asked him whether it was an adjudication or a receiving order—he made some remark about a petition; then I asked him, "Was it an adjudication?" and understood him to answer in the affirmative, and struck out "Receiving order"—I then asked him in what Court the proceedings were, that having been left blank—he said, "In the London Bankruptcy Court"—I asked him the date it appeared in the Gazette—he said it had not yet appeared in the Gazette—I struck out that clause—I initialled all the alterations, swore him to the affidavit, and discharged him from custody—this signature was on the affidavit, and the jurat had been filled in—I can only see his writing and my own—the affidavit is made in pursuance of the County Court Rules 30 and 31,1889, Order 25—a judgment summons against the defendant, dated December 31st, 1896, was heard on January 26th, 1897—it was an instalment order of £1 a month—six instalments had been paid on committal orders, and this, the seventh order, was taken out on January 19th, 1900, and was heard on February 6th, and made for 12 days, the order being suspended till March 1st—the balance in arrear was £10 10s. 10d., and 3s. 6d. the costs of the summons.
Cross-examined. Jeffrey was with the defendant, and sat opposite me at my table in my private room—I took no information from the bailiff.
Re-examined. This matter was exceptional, and occurs about once in a year.
LOOTE JEFFREY . I am bailiff of the Westminster County Court of Middlesex—I arrested the defendant on this warrant on March 22nd at 79, Oxford Street—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest for debt—he said, "I am a bankrupt"—I said, "If so, I shall take you before the
Registrar of our Court, and there you will be discharged from the warrant"—he showed me two blue papers relating to the Bankruptcy Court, he said, but I did not examine them—he said he had been taken to the Bloomsbury County Court the day before, and that he was discharged—I got a form belonging to our Court—he filled it up in the passage, and I took him before the Registrar—I was present—he did it all himself—there was no conversation between us.
Cross-examined. He got the number of plaint Z 4217 from the warrant—I did not give him the particulars.
GEORGE INGLIS BOYLE . I am a messenger of the filing room of the London Bankruptcy Court—I produce file of proceedings in the bankruptcy of John Gurrin, trading as Abbott & Co., of 79, New Oxford Street—the petition of Bridge and Neal is dated December 21st, 1899, for £56 13s. 6d.—that is on a judgment fixed for hearing and adjourned to March 16th, when it was dismissed—there is a statement signed by the debtor.
Cross-examined. The petition was down for hearing on January 19th, 1900—it was adjourned to February 16th, and again to March 16th.
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he believed he was a bankrupt, and that he had paid a bailiff of the Bloomsbury Court half a sovereign, and had heard no more of a previous warrant of committal.
Evidence for the Defence.
WILLIAM PAYNE . I am a farmer, of Welford Manor, Charlbury, 12 miles from Oxford—I received a letter from the prisoner on March 22nd last—I owed him over £30, £35 the letter says—some of it had been owing six months—I came to London on March 21st to pay him, but did not pay him because I heard he was a bankrupt—I gave him that as a reason—I went to his office for that purpose.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CUNDY Prosecuted.
LAMBETH— GUILTY . A previous conviction was proved against him.— Eighteen months' hard labour; ANDERSON— One month's hard labour.
MR. HOPKINS and MR. PERROTT Prosecuted, and MR. ABINGER Defended.
MICHAEL SCHTIER(Interpreted). I live at 12, Faith Street, Bethnal Green—I am a traveller—I was in my room on a Jewish holiday in April, with my friend Morris Taylor, about noon—a gang of boys, 18 to 20 years old, attacked the house, and bottles and stones began to flow through the window—one bottle struck my friend in the face—I have a room downstairs, and another upstairs—I rushed out to catch one of the boys—Taylor followed me—I suddenly felt a shot in my back—Simonson was in the street near my door—the street is narrow—I saw a pistol in his hand—it made a hole in my overcoat, and in my back I have a wound—I tried to catch him, but he disappeared in his own house, No. 5, which is opposite—I heard him call out; I could not understand his English, but
he seemed from his gestures to be exciting the boys to attack me—we had a dispute eight days before this; he said that one of my children broke a window in his house—I was seen by the doctor immediately afterwards at the Police-court.
Cross-examined. I come from Bloder, in Poland—I have not been in prison there, nor in Siberia—I see nothing bad in the streets—the prisoner excites the boys against the Jews—my house is not a brothel—the prisoner keeps a brothel, and was summoned for it—I have four children—I have two rooms—no young woman is living there—the prisoner lives opposite—he did not come to me in the street and say, "I think it is scandalous of you to keep a brothel in your house, which is exactly opposite mine"—I did not reply, "I shall do as I like; I am a Siberian; I do as I like out there; I shall do as I like here; I have been there 20 years; if you do not keep your jaw in I will send you to Stratford" (Referring to the cemetery.)—I work in the summer on lemonade, and in the winter for Mr. Cohen, 62, Leman Street—I received £2 from the guardians to help me to travel with goods to sell—I am a pedlar—I travel to sell—I have bills at home from where I bought goods—I would have worked longer for Mr. Cohen, but he sold out in the holidays, about September—there was a crowd of about 30 people—they did not shout, "Dirty brothel-keeper"—the prisoner pays the boys a shilling to throw bottles—Mr. Taylor is a friend of my wife's—he is a tailor—we talk Yiddish—Barcovitch is a presser—I only knew him at the accident, when he was standing with another man, and asked if I was shot.
MORRIS TATLOR (Interpreted). I am a tailor, of 16, Flower and Dean Buildings—three weeks ago I was in No. 12, Faith Street, in the prosecutor's room, about noon, dining with him on a piece of mutton, when suddenly a bottle flew through the window and struck me in the face—some stones and bottles followed, and then some fragments of bottles and more stones—the prosecutor took a broomstick and rushed into the street—I followed—there was a crowd—I saw the prisoner standing outside, near the door of No. 5, which is opposite—the street is not wide—the prisoner fired a pistol—I saw the smoke come out, and the prosecutor holding his hand on his back—the prisoner ran into his own house, No. 5.
Cross-examined. I have known the prosecutor one winter—he has worked at a lemonade business, and sells goods from a barrow—about 15 people came round the window—only the prosecutor's wife lives with him—I have a wife, but not in this country.
Re-examined. This house is not a brothel.
MYER BARCOVITCH . I am a tailor's presser, of 208, Hanbury Street, Bethnal Green—on Good Friday, about 12 o'clock, I passed Faith Street—I heard a revolver fired—I saw the prosecutor running behind a crowd of boys, and the prisoner with something in his hand, which seemed to me like a revolver—he said to the boys, "Beat him; I will be responsible for it"—I said to Taylor, "You are the man who was struck?"—he said, "Yes"—the prosecutor afterwards told me he had a bullet in his back—I saw a cut in his coat—I took him to the Police-station, where he found a bullet in his left sock—I did not know him before.
Cross-examined. I never saw Taylor before—I have worked for Mr. Levy,
of Strood Street, for four years—I do not know Mrs. Cook or Mrs. May—I did not say to the prisoner outside this Court on Monday, "Give me £2, and I will go home; I am very sorry."
Re-examined. A witness for him said that; his name is Jack Ellis, or Lewis—I do not know him; I only saw him at the Police-court.
RANDALL EDWARD BOWEN . I am a medical practitioner, of 285, Cambridge Road—I was called to the Bethnal Green Police-station on April 5th to see the prosecutor—he had a gun-shot wound in his back—his clothing was stained with blood—the shot had perforated his two shirts and vest—a bullet was found ia his sock—it corresponded with the mark on his body—it was a skin wound, and 3in. from the spine, near the rib—I think the revolver must have been fired some distance from him—there were no signs of burning.
Cross-examined. I have experience of shot wounds, and have given evidence in this Court—the shot cut the skin, and must have dropped having produced extravasation of blood—it was probably not caused by a proper revolver—the street is narrow—there was a clean skin cut and marks of blood on his shirt about an inch in diameter.
FREDERICK ALLEN (Detective, J). About 8.30 p.m. on this evening, from information received, I went to the prisoner's house, 5, Faith Street—he was not at home—I met him in Cambridge Road, and told him I should take him into custody for shooting Michael Schtier and causing him bodily harm—he said, "We all had row"—I took him to the station—when charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. I met him walking towards the Police-station.
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he did not fire any pistol, but that he was annoyed by boys, and one of them fired a toy pistol.
Evidence for the Defence.
MOSES PEPPERMEISTER (Interpreted). I am a barber, of No. 90, Oxford Street, East—I lodge with Simonson, and was dining with him on Good Friday about 2.30—I heard boys hammering at the door of No. 12, Schtier's house—then I saw Schtier rush out, having in his hand a piece of iron, with two shells, bombs—Simonson did not go out, but Schtier came to our house and broke the window and the frame—I have lodged with Simonson three months—I have never seen him with a revolver—he is a very quiet, good man—our house is respectable.
Cross-examined. I am 17 years old—I am no relation to Simonson—I came home to my dinner about 12.30—I went back to business about three—I saw Schtier's window broken a little—I did not see any lemonade or ginger beer bottles thrown into the room.
RACHEL GARRETT . I am married, and live at 1, Faith Street—No. 5 is opposite No. 12—I heard a noise outside about 12.45—I went out and saw a lot of boys, who threw lemonade bottles through the window and banged at Schtier's door, who came out with a lump of iron and ran after them to the top of the street—as he went to hit one of them with the piece of iron one boy fired a little toy pistol at the No. 12 man—Simonson lives in the same street—I have lived in my house 15 years—I did not not see Simonson near.
Cross-examined. I live next door but one to Simonson—I should have seen him if he had been out, as I was standing at my own door—the
No. 12 man rushed over to the No. 5 man—the boys were shouting and knocking at the door of No. 12—I looked on from about 1.15 to 1.30—I know the barber lad who lives at No. 5—he comes to dinner between 12.30 and 1 o'clock—I saw him come to dinner that day—that was a little before No. 5's windows were broken—I went before the Magistrate the next day, but they did not call me—Mrs. Cook lives at No. 11—she was outside—I do not know the No. 12 man—he cannot speak English—I have known the prisoner about four years—he spoke English to me—I am English.
Re-examined. The prisoner is a quiet, peaceable man—I have never seen him breaking windows, nor with a revolver—he lives with his wife.
MARGARET MINEY . I am married, and live at Faith Street; two doors from the prisoner—on Good Friday I heard a hullabaloo outride No. 12—I saw Schtier come out with a lump of iron—he ran to the top of the street after some boys who had been annoying his door—I heard a pistol shot at the top of the street by a little lad—then Schtier took his coat off, and came back down the street—the boys were annoying the girls—the prisoner's house is respectable—I have heard no complaint against it.
Cross-examined. The police have not complained of the prisoner—I have known him four years—Schtier did not come out, but his missis did, when they broke his shutters—I know Mrs. Cook, of No. 1—she, Mrs. Garrett, and I came to Worship Street, but were not called.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HOPKINS offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 24th, 1901.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. SYMONDS Prosecuted.
ALFRED ARTHUR MADDOX . I am manager of the Durham Arms, Hackney Road—my wife lived there with me—her sister was the barmaid, and the prisoner was potman—he is my wife's brother—he had been there two and a half or three years—he did not live on the premises; he went home to sleep—at 1.30 p.m. on April 8th he came through the bar, where I was—he had been out for about half an hour—he went through to the back yard, and I followed him—he was the worse for drink—I told him I had cautioned him before, and could have no more of it on a bank holiday, and he would have to get off home—he said, "All right, then, I will go"—he went back into the bar—I followed him—he put up his fists as if he was going to fight—I said, "I don't want anything of that; I want you to get out of the house as quick as you can"—he followed me into the passage—I told him to go home, and be done with it—while we were talking my wife came through—I said to the
prisoner, "Get out of the place," and I walked back into the bar again—I had not got more than six yards towards the bar when I heard my wife screaming—I turned and went back into the passage, but the prisoner and my wife had gone into our private room—I went into the room—the prisoner had got my wife down on the floor and was punching her in the face—I hit him, and got him away from her—she got up—her mouth was bleeding, and I told her to go and wash her mouth, and then get back into the bar—she went out of the room—I was not hitting the prisoner then—he got up from the sofa where I had knocked him, and came at me with a knife, and stabbed me in my face—I was facing him then; I had just turned round to see what he was doing—he had the knife in his right hand—we were both standing up—I had not hold of him—he had walked away from me—the knife was not on the table in the room in which we were; there was another little room leading off it, where there was a table laid for dinner—the door was open between the two rooms—the sofa which he was on is not more than six yards from the table in the other room—I did not recollect anything more till I found myself at the hospital—I am still there—this (Produced) is the knife.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I gave you two blows.
By the COURT. I struck him in the face when he was kneeling on my wife—I was perfectly sober.
MARTHA MADDOX . I am the prosecutor's wife and the prisoner's sister—on April 8th, about 1.15 p.m., I was having dinner in the bar parlour leading by a passage to the saloon bar—I heard the prisoner come through the yard and my husband following him—I heard them speaking in the yard—my husband said, "Where have you been?"—the prisoner made a reply, but I could not hear it—my husband said he would have no more of it, and said, "If you are not back here to-night by 7 o'clock sober and able to do your work, you need not trouble to come again; you are drunk now"—he said, "I will go now if you like;" my husband said "Very well, go"—the prisoner said, "Give me my money, then"; my husband said, "I will watch it," meaning that he would not give it to him then—my husband went out into the saloon bar again, and the prisoner followed him—I then heard them struggling in the passage leading to the parlour—I jumped up from my dinner and went between them—my husband went back into the bar and left me and the prisoner standing together in the passage—he turned to me and said, "This is through you," and he struck me—we struggled, and in the struggle we both got into the room—I shrieked for help—I fell down when the prisoner struck me, and while I was on the floor he struck me and punched me in the face—my husband came in and pushed him against the sofa—I got up, and my husband told me to go upstairs and wash my face, because I had two black eyes and my nose and mouth were bleeding from the blows the prisoner gave me—I started to go out of the room, when I heard a table go over and my husband groan—I went back into the room and saw my husband sitting on a chair bleeding from the mouth—I screamed for help—the prisoner was in the room, but not near my husband—I did not notice whether he had anything in his hand—some customers from the bar came in—I did not go with my husband to the hospital, I went to see him there afterwards, and they bathed my face there—this knife, I believe, was on the table
where I was having dinner—I had been using a knife, but I cannot remember which table this one was on.
ROSE WILSON . I am single, and a barmaid at the Durham Arms—the prisoner and the last witness are my brother and sister—on April 8th, about 1.15, I was in the bar—I saw the prisoner come in, and go into the back yard—I saw the prosecutor follow him, and afterwards come back—I did not hear what took place in the yard—in the bar I heard the prosecutor say, "Leave the bar, Will"—my brother said, "I shan't"—the prosecutor said it again, and my brother said something, but I do not know what—they then went through the bar into the passage, which leads to the back parlour—I did not see what took place in the passage—I heard my sister scream—I went towards the sounds, and saw my brother and sister struggling—she was on the floor, and he was standing over her, just going to hit her—the prosecutor came in, and struck my brother—I did not see the blow with the knife—I saw my brother's face or nose bleeding—I ran out to fetch a policeman—I came back without one, but I found one in the passage when I returned—I do not know if the prosecutor was there then.
Cross-examined. I believe you were pushed out at the side door and taken away.
THOMAS FELTON . I live at 400, Hackney Road, and am a lodging-house keeper—on April 8th, about 1.30, I was in the saloon bar of the Durham Arms—Mrs. Maddox came in and said that her brother was killing her husband—I rushed in—the prisoner and the prosecutor were struggling together—I took a knife away from the prisoner, and threw it out into the passage; then I looked after the prosecutor, who was stabbed and bleeding—he sat on a chair after I got the knife away; then we got him off to the hospital—there was not much of a struggle in getting the knife away—there were two of us—the prisoner was drunk—the blow was done when I first saw them—I cannot say if the prisoner was struggling to inflict another blow.
JOSEPH TAYLOR . I live at 31, Ovalbury Road, Clapton Park—I was in the Durham Arms on April 8th about 1.30, and heard the prosecutor's wife screaming—I went in with the last witness, and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner struggling together—I got the prisoner down and held him, and Mr. Felton took the knife from him, which he had in his hand—both of them were smothered with blood—the prisoner was drunk—the prosecutor was sober.
CHARLES KING (44 J). On April 8th I was on duty near the Durham Arms—from information I got, I went to that house at 1.35—I went into the bar parlour, and saw the prosecutor lying on a couch, bleeding very much from a wound on the left side of his head—a doctor had been sent for, but I sent for another—I bandaged the prosecutor's head in the meantime—Felton picked up a knife and handed it to me—there was blood on it—I took the prosecutor to the hospital in a cab, as he was very collapsed, and almost insensible, and the doctor did not come.
JOHN EVERARD DINNEL , M.D. On April 8th I was house surgeon at the London Hospital—the prosecutor was brought there on that day, with an incised wound on his left temple, about 1 1/4 in. long and 4in. deep, penetrating the left tonsil, and coming out through the lower part of the
mouth—he was very collapsed, and vomited blood after admission, which he had evidently swallowed—the bleeding was stopped by plugging the wound with gauze, and he rallied for a bit—about two hours afterwards he was collapsed and almost pulseless, and he was transfused; that is opening a vein and ejecting a liquid into it—he might have died if it had not been done—this knife could have caused the wound—he was under my treatment from April 6th to the 19th, when I left—he will recover—he is very anamic now from the loss of blood—it would have required considerable force to have caused the wound with this knife.
GEORGE BROWN (Sergeant, J). On April 9th I arrested the prisoner at 49, Wilmer Gardens, about 7 p.m.—I told him I should take him into custody for stabbing his brother-in-law on April 8th at the Durham Arms—he said, "Yes, I am very sorry for what I have done; I did do it; it is no use saying I did not; I hope Alf is better"—he meant the prosecutor—I took him to the Bethnal Green Police-station, where he was charged.
— COLLINS (Inspector, J). I received a message from the London Hospital, saying that the doctor had given up hopes of the prosecutor's recovery—I tried to find a Magistrate to take his deposition—I could not find one, and I took his statement myself in the doctor's presence—the next day I saw the prisoner detained at Bethnal Green Station—I told him I should charge him with attempting to murder Maddox on the afternoon of the 8th with this knife, holding it in my hand—he said, "I took it from my sister's hand"—he was charged, and made no reply.
Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I reserve my defence, and call no witnesses."
Prisoner's defence: I was very drunk, and very excited from drink, and I had not the slightest idea of what I was doing. We had been friends for eight or nine years. We have never quarrelled. Mr. Maddox is the last person whom I should want to harm. If I had been in my proper senses I should not have done it.
GUILTY on the second Count. — Three years' penal servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 24th, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
HENRY ANDERSON MOORE . I live now at 12, Battersea Road, Highbury—I lived at No. 27 on March 20th, and left the place safely locked up—when I went next morning everything was upset, and I missed a coffee pot, a cream jug, two overcoats, spoons, forks and knives—I have been shown a frock coat, portmanteau, sealskin coat, and a key which I had had made to the front door, but which did not fit it—that was in one of the bedrooms—I had seen the prisoner on Saturday, at 8 p.m.—he came to see me about something, and said he would let me have the full particulars.
Cross-examined by the prisoner. I have known you six months.
FREDERICK BUTTERS (Detective, Y). I took the prisoner on March 23rd—I asked him if his name was Knell—he said, "Yes," and I told him he would be charged with breaking into Mr. Moore's house on Saturday night—he said, "I know nothing about it; that is Mr. Moore's house, is it not?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I did not break in; I went there with two men, but did not go in; they brought me the things to pledge on Friday"—when he was charged he said, "I did not break in; you will find at my lodging a portmanteau under the bed."
Cross-examined. You voluntarily told me what you had done, and said that you had pledged the things in your own name—you said nothing about your address.
Re-examined. He lives at 6, Orchard Street.
ALFRED ACOMB . I am assistant to Mr. Thompson, a pawnbroker, of 87, Roman Road, Barnsbury—on March 22nd the prisoner pledged a coffee pot and cream jug for 7s. 6d., in the name of John Knell, 67, John Street, and a frock-coat on the 23rd for 6s.
Cross-examined. You gave me that address, to the best of my knowledge—I had seen you before, but did not know where you lived.
THOMAS STACEY (Police Sergeant, Y). I searched the prisoner's room at 6, Orchard Street, and found a key and a portmanteau, which I searched, and found a bicycle lamp and these bill heads, which bear the name of Henry Townsend, blacksmith—they are the proceeds of another robbery—here are seven bunches of keys which fit pillar-boxes, and a letter-bag and pouch—the prisoner said, "I know nothing more than I have said; it was brought to me by a man named Cantnell on Monday"—I also found a number of bicycle accessories and two bicycles, which are the proceeds of a robbery—the name on the contract note was Kempson, 62, Bridgport Road, Hoxton—the accessories were stolen from Mr. Kempson's yard on March 15th.
Cross-examined. I have not searched where you lived with your parents.
HENRY DOWTY (93 Y). I examined Mr. Moore's premises—a blunt instrument had been used on the front door, but the force was not sufficient—I think a key had been inserted in the lock which would not turn it, and then the door was forced.
WILLIAM THOMAS KEMPSON . I am a bicycle dealer, of 62, Bridgport Road, Hoxton—on March 7th I went to bed, leaving everything safe—next morning I found the shop forced open, and missed a lamp, a bicycle, a padlock, and four tyres, worth altogether £12—I have identified them here to-day—this is a contract note of mine; it relates to a bicycle stolen from my premises and pledged by somebody, not by me—I have identified it—this name, "Kempson," was not written by me.
HENRY TOWNSEND . I live at 50, Ryder Street, and make bicycles—on November 23rd I locked up my premises, and on the 24th found they had been broken into—I missed two bicycles, some lamps, and a latch-key, and have since identified them as found in the prisoner's room—this
receipt purports to show that I had made Mr. Knell a bicycle for £9 5s.—that is not so—it is made out on one of my stolen bill heads.
ROBERT SURTEES . I am a postman in the Highbury Post-office—on December 19th I was on duty at 10 p.m.—I left the office for an hour and a half, and locked the door—there were 40 letters there, which had been brought in by the 9 o'clock collection—they were put into a letter-box and locked up—next morning I noticed that the lock of the letter-box had been forced and the 40 letters were gone, and seven bunches of keys also—these are the keys; they have the Post Office mark on them, and belong to pillar-boxes—the bag and pouch also have the Post Office mark—an entrance had been effected by climbing a wall 8ft. high, and getting in at a window—I was away on night duty from 10 till 11.30—I do not know the prisoner.
Cross-examined. You did not leave for any crime—you were requested to resign.
Prisoner's defence: They have put things as black against me as they possibly can. Two young fellows, Canter and Bennett, who were school boys with me, asked me to pledge the machine. The receipt is not in my writing, but it is made out in my name and address. The machine was brought to me in November; they Said they were rather hard up, and I pledged one or two things of my own; the police found the duplicate in my box. They asked me to pledge another machine, a better one, and made out a contract with my name and address. After that they only had the portmanteau and jacket in my house one night; they asked me to take them, as they had to leave their lodging. I received them on Friday, and was going to give them back on Saturday. I have always worked hard for my living, and have lived 13 years in the same neighbourhood with my father, mother and brother, and never entered a Police court in my life.
GUILTY .—There were four other indictments against the prisoner for warehouse breaking.— Three years' penal servitude.
MR. BIRON Prosecuted.
ALICE KENDAL . I live at Grumby Cottage, Twickenham Road, Isleworth, next door to the post-office—Mr. Walker lodges there—on March 18th I saw the prisoner and another man about 50 yards from the post-office—on March 20th, about 1.20 p.m., I was in St. John's Road, Isleworth—the Duke of Cornwall beer-house is at one corner—I saw three men, and one had something under his coat—I did not recognise them at the time as two of the same men—they were talking together, and I could not see them when I was up the road—when I passed them I heard
Sullivan say, "It is all right"—my suspicion was aroused—I then heard that the cash-box was stolen, and saw Mr. Slaney go after them—I saw Sullivan come along the road—I have no doubt these are two of the men—I picked out Greenwood from a number of others, and have no doubt about him.
Cross-examined by Greenwood. You had different clothes on from the day you appeared in Court, but I picked you out by your face.
JOHN WALKER . I live at Grumby Cottage, Twickenham—on March 20th, as I was finishing my dinner, I was called out—Miss Kendal told me something; I ran up the road, and saw three men come off a piece of waste ground and walk on to the bridge and then run—I was then 50 yards off—I ran after them, but did not catch them—someone else took up the running, and I went back and picked up a cash-box, but the contents were all out of it—I ran up St. John's Road and saw Constable, whom I had seen loitering about a day or two previously with two others—I cannot identify them; I did not see their faces.
HENRY SLANEY . I am a tinsmith, of 32, Worple Road, Isleworth—on March 20th, I heard an alarm and saw three men running away—I ran into Longford Road, and when I got 40 yards on I saw them run from the piece of waste ground together; they were behind one another within a yard—I called "Stop thief," and they quickened their pace, but I caught Sullivan 100 yards further on in an unfinished house—he said, "You are wrong"—I gave him to someone else and went after the other men, but could not catch them—Miss Kendal came up.
JOHN CHARLES CHARITY . I am 14 years old, and live at 78, Lingfield Road, Isleworth—on the day of the robbery I went to the post office to buy some stamps, and when I came out I saw Greenwood at the corner of St. John's Road, standing with his hands in his pockets—I saw two other men, but could not see their faces—that was the 20th, and on the 31st I picked Greenwood out at the station from eight or nine other men.
JANE EMILY TRETHEWAY . I live at Albion House, Twickenham Road, and am postmistress, and keep a shop—I kept the office cash in the box produced—there was £25 in it on this day, and it was unlocked—there was £5 in two bags; about £12 in gold—I remember Charity coming in to buy some stamps—the door was closed behind him—after he left I went into the kitchen, which is about four yards off—nobody was in the shop—my sister Annie was in the kitchen—I heard a noise in the shop, and went in and missed the cash-box—I had seen Sullivan in the post-office not very long before.
ANNIE TRETHEWAY . On March 20th, just after the robbery, I saw three men near a piece of waste ground—I cannot identify the prisoners; I was not near enough—I saw them both outside the post-office two or three days before, and another man with them, and I have seen them inside the shop.
JAMES LINNETT (Police Sergeant, T). On March 20th I went to some unfinished houses in Grange Road, and saw Sullivan detained by some men—I told him the charge—he said that he was not with the two others.
HENRY MULLINS (Policeman). I took Greenwood on March 3rd, and told him he would be charged with being concerned with two others in stealing a cash-box from the post-office, and that one was in custody—he said,
"Who is going to prove it?"—I said, "The people who ran after you"—he said, "I am innocent"—I took him to the station, put him with nine other men, and Miss Kendal and the boy picked him out—he paid, "I am innocent; these witnesses are wrong."
EMMA HAPPS . I live at Lingfield Road, Isleworth—I saw Greenwood at the Police-court, and remembered that I had seen him before—on March 20th I went to my door, and saw three men on the piece of was ground—I cannot recognise the other two.
Cross-examined by Greenwood. The last time I saw you was about six months ago.
Greenwood's defence: I have been convicted of being drunk, and now they charge me with robbery.
BETSY GREENWOOD . Greenwood is my brother—I am a tailoress, at 31, Arthur Street—on March 19th I got home from work about 8 o'clock; that is my usual hour for getting home—I found my brother at home in the kitchen, and he stayed at home that night—I left at 7.15 next morning, and did not see him again till 8 o'clock at night—he was not at home then, but he came home about 11 p.m.; that was Wednesday.
By the COURT. I did not see him till 8 o'clock, but my mother did.
GUILTY .—GREENWOOD then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on February 6th, 1899, and three other convictions were proved against him for similar offences. SULLIVAN— Nine months' hard labour GREENWOOD— Twenty months' hard labour.
MR GREENFIELD Prosecuted, and MR. WARBURTON Defended Mills.
HENRY BRITTEN . I am a wholesale grocer, of 107, High Street, Tottenham—on March 21st I was driving a one-horse van at St. John's Wharf, Wapping, with four bags of sugar in it, marked "332" in a diamond—I left it untended for two or three moments to take an order; when I came back it was gone—I gave information to the police, and about 2 a.m. I saw it at the station—I went to Paradise Street, Rotherhithe, where Mills keeps a general shop, and saw four bags of sugar there, which I identified by the marks; three were in the passage and one in the scullery at the back of the shop—they are worth £4 10s.—this piece of wood was attached to the bags.
THOMAS ARLE (Thames Detective). I had received notice of this robbery, and was outside the station on March 26th, when Elliott came up to me and asked if I had found the van and the sugar—I said, "No; why do you ask such a question?"—he said, "I am the man who stole it"—he took me to Mills' house, 50, Paradise Street—Mills was there, and Elliott said in his presence, "You gave me 2s. for the sugar"—Mills made no answer.
the four bags came; I do not know this man; he asked me to lend him 2s."—Elliott said, "It is a lie"—Mills said, "I will show you the bags," and I found three in the passage and one in the kitchen—I took possession of the house—there was a lad in the shop, and a young woman in the shop-parlour; Mills' cousin, I believe.
Cross-examined. Mills had been drinking.
ZINA CHANDLER (Detective Sergeant, N). On March 21st I went to 50, Paradise Street, and saw Mills; I told him that the sugar found in the passage had been identified, and I was going to take him for receiving it, knowing it to have been stolen—he said, "I never knew they were here"—I said something to the boy, and Mills said, "This gentleman came in and said something about the sugar, 'Give me 2s. for it'; I gave him 2s. and told him to take it away"—when charged at the station he said, "I was not in the shop; I was lying down bad with rheumatics; I do not use such stuff"—there is a shop and a back parlour before you come to the wash-house.
WILLIAM REED (Thames Police Inspector). I went to 50, Paradise Street, and in the basement, covered up with a number of cases, I found two cases iron-bound, marked N.S, 10.45 and 10.47, and in the front room two full boxes of claret and three empty bottles—I went to Mills' address on the 24 th—he said, "You have come to fetch me"—I said, "Yes; those cases of wine in your room have been identified as being stolen on the 5th of last month"—he said "They came from Essex Road; there is lump sugar in one case and wine in the other; I had them weeks ago; I bought them of a man, I do not know his name and address."
HENRY SMITHERS . I am carman to Smithers & Co.—on March 5th I was employed collecting certain things, and travelled with them over Southwark Bridge—I left the van for a short time, and when I came back it was gone—I afterwards identified some articles at the station, marked N.S. 10.45 and 10.47, which were in the van just before it disappeared.
JAMES ELLIOTT . I have pleaded guilty to this charge; I stole the sugar and took it to Mills' shop about 1 o'clock—I was told to take it there—I did not see who did it—I did not go into the shop, but into the passage—I did not see Mills there—I saw him a long time afterwards and said, "I have not been paid for the sugar I brought; I have no money, I want some to go on with"—he gave me four sixpences—I was not satisfied with that, and told him he had better take a shilling away, as that was no good to me—I did not go back and ask him for more; I was arrested.
Cross-examined. I must have been mad drunk—I saw the four bags of sugar put into the passage—there was a boy there—that is him (Smith)—I went back to the shop about 3 p.m. for my money, and I believe I said to the boy, "Is Mr. Smith in?"—the name over the place is "Mills"—I do not recollect the boy saying, "There is no Mr. Smith here; there is Mr. Smith, a greengrocer, next door"—I went back at 5 o'clock, and Mills told me he was not Mr. Smith; he was Mr. Mills—he said that the sugar was no use to him; he could not sell sugar like
that, and asked me to take it away—I said, "Well, governor, I have been on the booze all day; give me a couple of bob, and I will get a van and take it away," and I got the 2s., and directly afterwards the police arrested me outside, with the 2s. in my hand—I had gone to Inspector Arle, and made a statement to him before that—I had not seen Mills then—when I said, "Give me two bob, and I will get a van, and take the sugar away," the officers were outside.
Re-examined. I called Mills "the governor" because the boy said, "The governor will be in by five," but I had never seen Mills.
By the COURT. Directly I took the sugar there people were ready to take it in—when I got to the station I said to Mills, "You knew it was pinched"—that means stolen.
Mills, in his defence, stated, on oath, that he bought his shop of Mr. Smith about a year ago, having managed it for him three times; that there was a Mr. Smith, a greengrocer, next door, and young Smith came into his service when his boy left; that at a quarter to 5 o'clock he came down, and found three bags in the passage and one in the kitchen; that about 5 o'clock, when he was in his parlour having tea, Elliott, who was very drunk, came and said, "I have been at work all day; give me something to eat; give me a couple of shillings, and I will get a van and take the sugar away"; and that he was not surprised at seeing the sugar, because he might have given a standing order for sugar, and bought £4 or £5 worth at a time; that he had no wine licence, but bought three dozen of a man whose name he did not know; and that he knew nothing about the sacks.
Cross-examined. It is not a very common mark—I cannot say whether we have 300 bags with similar marks—it was stolen on the night of March 9th—it comes from the merchant, and was marked in France "G. C. & Cie"—I have seen that mark on bags in other consignments.
Evidence for the Defence.
ALBERT SMITH . I live at 50, Paradise Street, Rotherhithe—I was employed by Mills—on Thursday, March 21st, shortly after 2 o'clock, Elliott came there, ana asked for Mr. Smith—I said, "There is no Mr. Smith here; that is the gentleman next door but one"—I did not see any sugar put in, and have no knowledge how these bags got into the passage and kitchen—no one is employed there but me—the passage is on the other side; I could not see it—there is a street-door to the passage—two ladies live upstairs, and they can open the passage door with a latch-key.
By the JURY. When the sugar was brought in I did not open the door to admit it; Mrs. Jay did—she is a cousin, but not a lodger—I did not hear anybody say anything about sugar at 2.30.
By the COURT. I first heard that four bags of sugar had found their way into my master's place, in the evening about a quarter to six, when the prisoner came.
Cross-examined. I had been there a fortnight—I have not known other articles come there; no wine and no other sugar—I did not know sugar to come when my father was there.
Re-examined. When Mills saw the sugar he asked me what it was doing there—I said that I did not know.
By the JURY. I did not see the van drive up—Elliott called and asked for the governor about 1.30, and he was in bed—he came down to lunch about 1.30—when I told the constable he would be in at five, that was Smith, the greengrocer.
MARY ANN JAY . I live at 50, Paradise Street, and am Mills' cousin—he was in bed up to 12 o'clock, and got up and had his dinner, and went to bed again a little after 2 o'clock—he was less than two hours downstairs, and then went to bed again, and did not come down till 5 o'clock at tea-time—I do not know who took in these sacks of sugar, I might have left the door open, I cannot say.
By the COURT. I do not dispute that one bag was found in the kitchen, which is level with the passage—I did not go out that day—I do not know how four bags could come in and one go to the kitchen without my knowing it.
SAMUEL TAYLOR . I have lodged in Mr. Mills' house five and a-half months—on March 21st I was at home with erysipelas in my left eye—a man brought in this sugar about 2.15 and shut the door—he came out of the yard—one bag was in the kitchen, and I saw the man going out at the door—I did not say anything to him—Mills went upstairs between one and two, and came down about 4.30 to tea—he was ill.
Cross-examined. I am a goods porter—I did not hear the van come.
MILLS— GUILTY . The police stated that he had received about 25 other bags during the last 12 months, and that Elliott worked honestly till he got acquainted with Mills.— Three years' penal servitude. ELLIOTT then PLEADED GUILTY o a conviction of felony on February 15th, 1899; and two other convictions were proved against him.— Six months' hard labour.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, April 24th and 25th,
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. MATHEWS and KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. PURCELL Defended.
RICHARD COX . I am a bookmaker, of 207, Stanhope Street, Hampstead, Road—some of my operations are in the street—on the Lincolnshire Handicap this year I had a bet with Mrs. Sadler, the prisoner's wife—she backed Lackford both ways, to win and a place—she handed me a slip—two slips were handed me—on the first I paid her 6s. 6d. on March 27th for the race run on the 26th—I kept the slip in my house, having paid the money, and everything was satisfactory—on the 28th I showed the prisoner the slip—he snatched it from my hand—it has my figures on it—I have not seen it since—I retained this other slip, which was produced before the Magistrates—5s. 3d. was due to Mrs. Sadler, but I gave her 6s. 6d. about 12.50p.m. on the 27th—within a minute the prisoner came up to me in Warren Street,
Tottenham Court Road, with another man—I knew prisoner by sight, because he had asked me for money on other occasions—he said, "I want 30 f—shillings off you"—I thought he was joking, laughed at him, and said, "What for?"—he said, "Well, you know what for; it was a bet my missis gave you yesterday"—I said, "I have just settled with your missis, and everything is satisfactory"—his missis stepped forward and said, "Don't take any notice of the b—madman," and she said to him, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself; let the man get on with his business"—she came to pull him away, because he was threatening me—he said if I did not pay him the money he would have my f—guts out—his wife advised me to walk away, and I was about to do so when he told her that if she did not get out of the way he would dig her in the f—eye—I walked away—the prisoner, with the other man, followed me for about an hour—I told the prisoner that I could produce the slip the following day—the men went away, saying they would have the money the next day at all costs—the next day, the 28th, I was in Warren Street about the same time—the prisoner came with the other man—there were three others within a distance of 20 yards—the prisoner got in a fighting attitude in front of me, and said, "My f—money!"—I was a few yards down a mews—I told him I would come up and arrange with him—when I got to the top the other three men were there—I said to the prisoner, "You have no occasion to cause all this trouble, and do what you have done; I knew you were wrong yesterday; here's the slip,' and I produced the slip Mrs. Sadler had given me—he snatched it at once—he had another slip in his right hand, and he said, "That is my f——bet"—the entry on the slip he snatched was, "1s. each way Lackford, any to come, 1s. on St. Bernard II.," at the bottom, "Stakes, Poor Scholar"—that means 1s. win, 1s. place, odds starting price, fourth odds a place, and 1s. to win St. Bernard II.—that won at 9 to 4—if 1s. has to come off the top of the paper it goes on to the bottom—the 1s. has to be invested on another horse lower down—if Lackford did not run, the 1s. would go on the next horse—if Lackford got a place the same condition would arise—if the Stakes were still in hand, and St. Bernard II. won, the 1s. would go on Poor Scholar—Poor Scholar lost—the result was, Mrs. Sadler was entitled to 5s. 3d.—I had not made the bets recorded on the seoond slip—I said, "I have never seen that slip in my life; that has nothing to do with me"—one of the men with him said, "Don't b—well argue with him; let's take it off him"—I said, "You must not take any money off me"—Sadler said if he did not get the money he would chew my "f—nose off"—a soldier in plain clothes came up—Sadler said, "You have no reason to bring these people to us; this is what you have done for us, is it? We don't mind the f—police"—one of the other men used a slang term about going round the corner, thinking he saw a police officer, but the man stood against the railings and watched—I was very frightened—I had a good bit of money in my pocket at the time they threatened to upset me and take the money from me—I said, "You had better go round the corner, and I will come round and arrange with you"—the four men went round the corner; then one came back and said, "How long are you going to keep us b—well waiting round there?"—being frightened,
I went round the corner with him—they got round me again—Sadler made a punch at me, but one of the others prevented his striking me—I got so frightened that I said, "I will settle the money"—I offered 24s., which, with the 6s. 6d. I had paid, would make the 30s. 6d. they had claimed at first—they afterwards claimed 32s. 6d.—the prisoner said, "If you offer me that, I will smack it in your f—eye"—I was very frightened, and went into the Goat and Compasses public-house out of the way, at the corner of Euston Road and Fitzroy Street, near where we were standing—one of the men came in, and Sadler after him, with his wife—Sadler had a row with the landlord, then said to me, "My money, or up you go"—he made a rush at me, and cleared everything in front of him—the soldier came between, and prevented his striking me—I got into a corner—he made another punch at me, the door went open, I fell through, and ran away—the other three men were there upsetting the place—I went to the Police-station, and afterwards laid an information before Mr. Denman, the Magistrate, upon which a warrant was granted for Sadler's arrest—this slip "B" is the slip I took—it records 2s. to win on loser, Jeunesse Dore, stakes on Forfarshire, and is signed I could not say what—I never saw it before—(The signature appeared to be "Hammott")—that was a losing bet with Mrs. Sadler—it means 1s. was lost on Jeunesse Dore—two slips were handed to me—I took that one to the Police-court to show it was not the one—the slip snatched from me had Sadler on it, I am certain—I had never seen slip "A" till I saw it at the Police-court.
Cross-examined. The prisoner did not touch me, because I got away too quick, but he was in a fighting attitude for two hours on the two days—I am always frightened at bad language—I said at the Police-court that I was trembling like a leaf—I was not so frightened the first day, because I thought when they produced the slip they would know I was correct—a police-station is within a quarter or half-mile from Warren Street—I often see police about there—I did not go to the police—I was examined before the Magistrate twice—I said, "I know nothing of the prisoner, except by sight, and the prisoner said, 'I want 32s. 6d. off you'; I said, 'What for?'—he said, "For the bet my missis gave you yesterday'; I said, 'I paid your missis 6s. 6d.'"—that is right—I said one bet was given me by Mrs. Sadler—everybody in the neighbourhood knows them—I knew their names—he has demanded money from me on other occasions—I know him to be what he is, and should give him half a sovereign to get rid of him at any time—I have known him for 18 years—my father kept a house in Warren Street about 18 years ago—Mr. Sadler and his wife lived within a few houses round the corner at that time—I did not know their names then—they went away for 16 years, and I saw no more of them till about two years ago—I have been betting in the street between seven and eight years—I have refused bets—I refused one from a shop-boy—from 1 to 2 o'clock in the day is my busiest time—the police run me in sometimes—I have been charged three times with creating an obstruction by betting in the street—I pay the £5 fine, and go on again next day—I never "worked the clubs"—I knew the Camden Town Club—I do not know how long it has not existed—I am married, and study my borne—I was only in it once—that was when I was on my way home,
and the prisoner forced his company on me, and took me into the club—he then demanded half a sovereign—that was about eight in the evening, about 18 mouths ago—I gave him 10s.—I have been to the Thalma Square Club once, four or five months ago—I went with several people—I stopped about half an hour—the prisoner there demanded 15s. off me—I gave it to him—he lost it, and punched the man in the eye for beating him at faro—everybody in my business is afraid of the prisoner—I dare not refuse his wife's bet—on eight or nine other occasions the prisoner has taken money from me—10 or 12 weeks ago I gave him a sovereign—if slip "A" had been right it works out at 32s. 6d.—I merely answered the questions before the Magistrate—Mr. Arthur Newton represented me—I could not give the whole story—I had a revolver in my pocket the second day to frighten the prisoner—I did not say in the public-house, "I will blow your b—brains out"—it was impossible to see the revolver, because of the counter—I said, "Stand back; you are not going to turn me out"—the revolver was not loaded—I ran away to avoid taking out the revolver—I did not mention the revolver at the Police-court—I heard the soldier say in the Court that he saw me with something that looked like a pipe—there is a barracks near—I had seen the soldier several times—I was not on speaking terms—he may have spoken—I knew before March 28th that his name was Ibbs, and that he was a sergeant-major instructor—he came to the Police-court in uniform—the men would not allow me to get away—they went, round the corner from the police—I went round the corner to save myself trouble as well as them from the police—I signed "Richard Cox" to my deposition because I am known by that name.
Re-examined. This was the first occasion money was due to the prisoner on a bet.
THOMAS IBBS . I am a sergeant-major instructor, and lived at 110, High Road, Willesden, and now live at 74, Villiers Road—on Thurday, March 28th, I was in Warren Street just alter 2 o'clock—I saw some men standing round the prosecutor—I recognised the prisoner—an angry discussion was going on, filthy and disgusting language being used—I heard one say, "Look out, here's a b—split"—I was not in uniform—I heard them say, "We are going to have this out of you, or else well have your b—liver"—I had been to the City, and was going to lunch—when someone said, "Look out, here's a b—split" they moved round the corner—Cox was within a yard or so of me—as I had finished my lunch in the Goat and Compasses Cox came in—the prisoner followed in a threatening manner, and spoke in an excited way, first of all to the landlord—he made a rush for Cox and said, "I want 30s. and a f—6d. from you"—Cox said, "Stand back, leave me alone," and got with his back to the door and looked out—the prisoner swore at him, and said he would have his b—liver or his 30s. and his b—6d.—previously he kicked against my stool, and nearly threw me over—as soon as I recovered I pushed myself in front of the prisoner and Cox, as Cox was a little chap to this man—Cox instantly backed out of the way and rushed out of the house.
Cross-examined. I have been in the neighbourhood of Fitzroy Square about 12 years, and have known Cox about eight or 10 years—he does
not know my private address—I saw something in his hand—I said before the Magistrate, "I saw something in Cox's hand; it did not look like a revolver, it looked like a pipe-case. I did not hear him say, 'I will blow out your b—brains'; I do not think he could have said it without my hearing it; I will not swear he did not, say it."
JOSEPH HARMS . I am manager of the Goat and Compasses, Euston Road—on March 28th the prisoner came in about 3.30 or 3.45—he called for two drinks, and asked me to have one—I refused—he said, "No; you won't drink with a f—thief; I am Fred Sadler, the f—thief; you have all the money"—I said, "I have nothing but what I work hard for"—he said, "What I get I thieve"—he asked me for 30s.—I told him I did not owe him the money—he sent a woman out to fetch some men in, and two or three men came in—Cox was in the bar—the prisoner rushed across to strike him, clearing the bar in front of him—he made attempts to hit him, but Sergeant Ibbs rushed between them—I sent for the police—Cox went out the other way—the men went out together.
Cross-examined. Ibbs was sitting in the bar close to the prisoner—the prisoner's observations were made in everybody's hearing—Ibbs was not in uniform—he was in uniform at the Police-court—I heard him and Ziezenis give evidence—I have not put into the prisoner's mouth more than I did before the Magistrate—I cannot remember now what I said before the Magistrate—I did not reserve it—I do not think the prisoner was drunk.
ERNEST ZIEZENIS . I am a teacher, of 66, High Street, Marylebone—on March 28th I was having lunch in the Goat and Compasses—I saw Cox—I heard the prisoner in a brawling voice say something about its being a downright shame that people owed him money, and would not pay him—he said, "I want 30s.," emphasising it with adjectives—he said, as far as I could make out, "If you don't pay me the money I shall take it"—I understood that it was addressed to Cox, because he rushed to him immediately after he made the remark, between my chair and the door, knocking me away and, I think, the gentleman in front of me, too—three or four men rushed in, and there was a good deal of confusion in the bar—somebody jumped between them, and I said to the prisoner, "Behave like a man; leave that man alone," and Cox disappeared, I think, through another bar.
Cross-examined. About four people were there.
ALFRED SCOLES (Police Sergeant, D). At 9.30 on April 1st I saw the prisoner detained at the Tottenham Court Road Police-station—I told him I was a police sergeant, and asked him if his name was Sadler—I read this warrant to him—it charges him that he did feloniously, by menaces or by force, demand certain moneys of one Richard Cox, with intent to steal the same, on March 27th and 28th—he said, "I wanted to steal no money from him; he owed my missis 30s. on a bet, and here it is," handing me this slip—the name at the bottom is the landlady's—I asked him what it was—he read it, "Lackford, 2s. 6d. for place; St. Bernard II., or all on; if cash, stakes on Poor Scholar"—when formally charged he made no reply.
Cross-examined. He was brought in by an officer—I introduced myself to him.
NOT GUILTY .
The JURY added that they thought the prisoner believed the debt was due to him.
MR. BEARD Prosecuted, and MR. J. P. GRAIN Defended.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRAIN Prosecuted, and MR. RAVEN Defended.
ERNEST ALLEN . I am a porter employed by the London and North-Western Railway Company, at the Swan Receiving Office, Gresham Street, City—on March 25th Rogers drove in with a van belonging to one of the contractor of the South-Eastern Railway Company to collect goods for the Bricklayers' Arms—I noticed a half-chest of tea on the stage or bank—I had received instructions to watch—Rogers and Carey loaded up and received this way-bill—I saw Rogers take the tea while the way-bill was being copied and hand it to Carey in front of the van—he was not collecting goods for Chatham—I communicated with Mr. Lloyd—I saw the van go out—Rogers was driving—Lloyd and I followed them—when they got out of the yard they went through Gresham Street, King Street, Cheapside, Queen Street, over Southwark Bridge, taking the first or second streets, and going along the back streets, and I lost the van in the New Kent Road—I missed Lloyd, and went on to the Bricklayers' Arms, and Lloyd was there before me; I saw the van drive in—Carey had left—Rogers was driving—when we got outside I asked Rogers who Carey was—he said he was a van-boy employed by Wells, the contractor—Rogers had the way-bills—the chest of tea was not on the van—we had the load carefully checked off at Bricklayers' Arms—Rogers said to Lloyd, "What are you following me for?"—Lloyd said, "You know all about that"—a constable was fetched, and Lloyd gave Rogers in charge—at the station Rogers said, "Be careful what you say"—he wanted to know why we did not charge him at the Swan Booking Office—the tea was Horniman's, and consigned to Chatham.
Cross-examined. Goods for Chatham are kept separate—I know the prisoners well—I checked the goods as Rogers handed them on the van—one of the prisoners put them on—I made no objection—I did not hear that Carey's horse was lame, and that he had come to help Rogers—I had known Rogers two years—I did not know whether Carey was employed by Wells; I took Rogers' word that he was—I knew he was a van-boy before Rogers spoke about it—I knew Carey was a carman for Wells—there being two carmen, I asked Rogers what he was doing—I knew Rogers was telling a lie—the van I should call a trolley; it has no sides—it was loaded before sundown—three or four vans were loading at the same time—I checked 22 packages—the half-chest of tea was about two yards from the van, with other packages to go by the Chatham and Dover Railway—I gave the bill to Lloyd to sign, and he signed it and
gave it me back—I gave it back to him to copy, and while he was copying it I saw Rogers take the tea, after he had signed it—it was put on the top of the van in front of other goods, and in between two hampers, underneath on the off side—anybody standing by could see it—Mr. Keeble saw it on the van when in the yard—18ft. to 20ft. of piping was in the middle part—it was not a very big load—there was one horse—the chest was about 18in. square; an ordinary chest, with Chinese figures—anybody could see it was tea, and not a packing-case—Rogers handed it to Carey, and Carey put it on the front of the van, between two hampers—he had no right to do it—I did not mention it; I followed the van; those were my instructions—I went over the streets with Lloyd, who showed me which was the New Kent Road—I said, "They went round all the back turnings instead of going direct," because I followed them, and they turned to the left, then to the right, then left again, and I missed them—I cannot swear they did not go along Sumner Street and Newington Causeway—I saw them in the New Kent Road about 250 yards, or 10 minutes' walk, from the Bricklayers' Arms—I missed them in the New Kent Road—the journey is about three miles—I only got 150 yards behind—I last saw Lloyd in one of the back streets.
WILLIAM LLOYD . I am managing inspector at the London and North-Western Swan Depot in Gresham Street—on March 25th my attention was called to the prisoners at the Swan—these two way-bills show 21 parcels on one, and one on the other, for Rogers' van—I saw him sign—I copied it, and said, "Are you sure you have got 22 packages on?"—he said, "That is right, is it not, 21 on one bill and one on the other?"—Carey was on the van, and Rogers drove it out of the yard—in consequence of information I had, Allen and I followed them—they went through Gresham Street, King Street, Cheapside, Queen Street, over Southwark Bridge—I missed them in East Street—they were both on the van—I went to Bricklayers' Arms Station—the van came up—Carey was gone—Rogers was driving—Rogers said, "What are you following me for?"—I said, "You know"—he said, "Be careful what you say"—the van came out of the station empty—I gave information to the South-Eastern people in consequence of what I had been told at the Swan.
Cross-examined. Rogers did not say at the Swan, "You can count them if you like"—I did not go out alongside—I handed the bills to Rogers about a dozen yards from the trolley—I think he said, "Yes, you make it right"—we checked the parcels on—I saw the chest on the front part of the van, on the top of other things—when he got to Southwark Bridge Road he got down to fix up some galvanised iron pipes—I missed him about five minutes' walk from the turn into the Old Kent Road, in East Street—I got on an omnibus going towards the Bricklayers' Arms, just beyond the railway arch in the New Kent Road; about 300 yards from the Bricklayers' Arms—I have known cases of carmen getting wrong parcels—they are not frequent—on one occasion a carman had a package short, but it was discovered on the bunk afterwards—after Rogers said, "Be careful what you say," I reported to a constable.
Re-examined. If the carman got more packages than he ought, it
would have been his duty to leave it at the South-Eastern to be reported.
ROBERT KEKBLE . I am foreman at the Swan Depot, Gresham Street—on March 25th I saw a chest of tea on the Chatham platform—Allen spoke to me—I saw the van driven away—I saw Carey at the front of the van on the dock, and Rogers by his side—I missed the tea—I saw it on the trolley—I spoke to Allen.
Cross-examined. The first time I saw either of the prisoners was when Rogers came to give his name—I was on the platform watching them—the tea was on the right side of the van, well to the front—you could see the end of it—it was not quite at the top—there were galvanised iron pipes on the top—it was a flat, one-horse trolley, no rail or sides—I could see half the chest one side—the goods for Chatham were about four yards from the South-Eastern Railway goods on the same platform—there was that space between them—there were 11 packages and the tea for the Chatham line—separate places are marked out for the different railways—the Chatham goods go to Blackfriars, and the South-Eastern goods to the Bricklayers' Arms Station.
BENJAMIN GEORGE POPE . On March 25th I was a carman employed by Horniman & Co., tea merchants, Wormwood Street, City, and took to the depot in Gresham Street several packages of tea addressed to Tribe & Lamb, of Chatham—this is the entry in my parcels book—I left them on the bank, and got a receipt—on March 27th I was instructed to take another chest of tea addressed to the same people.
HARRY MILNER . I am a warehouseman, employed by Tribe & Lamb, of 211, High Street, Chatham, growers and chemists—on March 26th I expected a half-chest of tea—it did not come—on March 28th I wrote to Horniman's, and received a similar chest to that which I expected on the 26th.
THOMAS COGLAN . I am foreman at the South-Eastern Railway Goods Station, Bricklayers' Arms—my duty is to check the goods that come in with the way-bills as they are unloaded—Rogers came in with a car-load of Wells', the South Eastern contractor, between 7 and 7.15 on March 25th, handed me these two way-bills and unloaded—I checked the 22 items as they were unloaded, as they appear above his signature—nothing was left in the van—he had no half-chest of tea.
Cross-examined. According to the invoice the load was correct—the distance from Gresham Street to the Bricklayers' Arms is about three miles.
WILLIAM WATERMAN (291 M). About 8.15 on March 22nd, on Lloyd's instructions, I stopped Rogers, who was driving a van down the Old Kent Road—Lloyd charged him with stealing a half-chest of tea—I said to Rogers, "You hear what this man says?"—Rogers answered, "Yes; I do not know anything about tea"—I took him to Grange Road Police-station, and afterwards, to Cloak Lane Station in the City, where he was charged with being concerned with another in stealing the tea—he said he knew nothing about tea—on leaving Grange Road Police-station on the way to the City he said, "If my mate, Tim Carey, was with me he might help me; he was with me all day"—the same evening I went to 22, Morcombe Street, Walworth; in plain clothes—I saw Carey in the
street about 30 yards off—I sang out, "Tim," because I was looking for a, man named Tim Carey—he came towards me—I asked him if his name was Carey—he said, "No; my name's Brown"—I told him I was a police officer, and he answered the description of a man named Carey that I wanted, and I should take him to Cloak Lane for being concerned with a man named Rogers in custody, charged with stealing tea from Gresham Street—on the way to the station he said, "I do not know anything about the tea, but I admit being Tim Carey, and I had been with Rogers all day."
Cross-examined. Rogers did not give me Carey's address—he said he did not know where he lived, but that I should be very likely to find him close to the Camden Arms public-house—a London and North-Western man first introduced Carey's name—I believed Rogers' statement, and found Carey.
The prisoners, in their defence, on oath, denied all knowledge of the tea, and said they went the most direct way to the Bricklayers' Arms.
WILLIAM LLOYD (Re-examined). I followed the prisoners through a street I now know as Garden Street and Deacon Street—from Southwark Bridge they went down Sumner Street, Gravel Lane, Great Suffolk Street, into South wark Bridge Road, stopped a few seconds against the Sportsman public-house, which is a few yards from New Lancaster Street, then they went along Newington Causeway, the New Kent Road, turned up Gurney Street, on the right of the New Kent Road, through Deacon Street, Rodney Road, Walworth (one end of which leads into the Old Kent Road), Catesby Street, Beckway Street, to East Street, where I lost them.
Cross-examined. I did not give all the streets yesterday because I was not asked—I went round to look at the streets on April 16th—I was not able to give them to the Magistrate—I knew them by sight, but not their names—I do not know that part well.
Re-examined. I went through the streets with one of the North-Western people, and put their names down in this book as I came to them.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 25th, 1901.
(For the case of William and Margaret Miller, tried this day, see
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 25th, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
335. GEORGE HERBERT SHAPLEY PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously causing a post-office order for £9 to be paid to William Baker, also an order for £9 14s. also four Bank of England notes amounting to £25, and two postal orders for £2, by means of a forged telegram.[See next trial.]
MR. RICHARDS, K.C. and M.P., with MR. CASSERLEY and MR. BIRON,
Prosecuted; and MR. DRAKE Defended Baker.
HENRY RICHARD RASHLEIGH . I am manager to Robert Masters, a turf commission agent, of Guernsey, who trades under the name of Spot Guernsey—we accept bets provided the telegram is handed in a quarter of an hour before the set time of the race—I received this letter (Produced) in January from Arthur Thompson, 325a, King's Road, Chelsea—(This stated: "I desire to open an account with you; please send terms.")—I subsequently received a deposit of £5 in the same name to open an account for bets to be made by telegram—on January 15th I received this telegram; "Regent Street, 12.57. Received here, Guernsey, 1.32, Spot Guernsey, Narrow Oakum, Jailbird, Art"—he wrote another letter, which I have not got, explaining the telegram—I read that, "£2 to win on Jailbird"—our total loss was £2 6s. 8d.—there was another transaction on which we lost £4—I sent him the balance, £9, by money order payable to Arthur Thompson, deducting commission—this is the order (Produced); it is signed "Arthur Thompson"—on February 14th we received another telegram from the same person, "Sarah Narrow Oakum, Art," that means "£2 on Oakum to win"—there were a few other bets, and I sent a cheque for £9 14s., the balance of all the transactions up to that date—on March 4th I received this letter front Arthur Thompson, dated the 2nd; "Sir,—Owing to unforeseen circumstances I shall not be able to continue my account with you, and when I wish to re-commence I will write to you"—I replied to that—I never saw Arthur Thompson; it was all done by letter and telegram—this letter (Dated March 2nd) is written to us by Arthur Thompson, and represents the various transactions between us—£2 was the amount he usually put on the winning horse.
Cross-examined. Besides these about 15 other wires were sent to us; I believe they were genuine—out of those 15 there were 12 losses, amounting to £24 18s.
Re-examined. This is our account—there is a win of £35, and a loss of £12 18s.—this is a copy of the ledger from the beginning—they won about £10.
EMILY ATWOOD ANDREWS . I am a telegraphist in the Central Telegraph Office, St. Martin's-le-Grand—on January 15th, at 1.31 (Exhibit 17) was put down by my desk for transmission to Guernsey, and from that I sent the message; it bears my signature—it reached Guernsey at 1.32.
FRANK HENRY CLAXTON . I am a telegraphist in the Central Office—on January 15th I was in the room devoted to racing news from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.—I received a wire from Manchester Grand Stand at 1.24, showing that Jailbird had won the race there—the message was not to be delivered to the public, which means that it goes over another wire.
with him, as it was easier duty; it was 4 p.m. to 11.45—he took my place from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., so that he was in the room when the telegrams from Newmarket arrived.
By MR. STEPHENSON (For Shapley). I am not one of the seniors; I am about the 19th—I am a good deal older than Shapley—I did not know that he was doing a little bit—I have not paid a bet for him or for myself—one official often asks another to take his duty.
LOUISA ANN SIMES . I am a telegraphist in the Central Office; not St. Martin's—on February 4th I sent the message contained in Exhibit 14, which purports to have been handed in at Regent Street at 2.20—this is a copy of it (Produced).
THOMAS LEWELLYN REES . I am a telegraphist in the Central Office—on February 4th I was on duty with Shapley—his hours were 12 to 8, and mine 9 to 6, and we obliged one another—he asked me to change places with him, and gave me a shilling for doing so—he undertook my duty in the racing-room that day—a telegram coming from Nottingham at 11.42 would come under my notice.
Cross-examined by MR. STEPHENSON. There is no fixed rate of payment.
WALTER HARRY PETERS . I am assistant superintendent of the Central Office—on January 4th I was on duty in the racing-room, and saw Shapley there—he had every opportunity of seeing the results of the races as they arrived—he would have no difficulty in setting in circulation a telegraphic message, by placing it on the table just as if it was a genuine message.
CHARLES CHUCK . I am manager to Mr. Arthur Magnus, a commission agent, of 67, Stanley Street, Liverpool—his telegraphic address is "Magnus, Liverpool"—our condition as to telegraphic bets is up to £5 up to the time the race is to be run—I received from Arthur Thompson, 325A, King's Road, Chelsea, a deposit of £10—he could send any sum he pleased—he assumed the name of Tar—this telegram, No. 3, reads, "Perch, Edwardine, Tar"—that means "Put me £5 on Edwardine to win"—No. 5 is "Perch, Chirpy, Tar," and No. 6 is "Perch, Hobnob, Tar"—those were horses running in the 2 o'clock race—telegram No. 3 is signed 2.35, and I should receive it about 10 minutes afterwards—Edwardine won on February 22nd, which resulted in a loss of £30—the telegram would take half an hour to get from Regent Street to Liverpool—I sent £25 in notes, and two sovereigns, and a postal order in a registered letter—he had lost £2 on a previous bet—Chirpy won on February 27th, which was a loss of £25 to us—I thought there was a mistake, as 48 minutes was a long time in comparison with a telegram which we had before, and I requested that the time should be repeated—I wrote to Thompson the same night, and have a copy here—(Dated February 27th, declining to execute farther commissions pending inquiry.)—I got another telegram on the 28th for Model, and wired to Thompson that no commissions would be executed for him—I got no reply—it takes a few days to get the answers—I wrote again on March 1st, "I wrote you last evening no further commissions would be executed for you; nothing was done for you"—I received
no reply—there is more than £10 in our hands, and we have had no claim for it—the telegram of the 28th means, "Put me £5 on Hobnob to win"—Hobnob had won, and we should have lost £50.
Cross-examined. Two other genuine telegrams were sent to us, but they were at least half an hour before the race—we won on both—I have not got the Model telegram—Prince Hampton was a first favourite—it is not unusual to race in another name to one's own.
CHARLES HENRY SALMON . I am a telegraphist in the Central Office—on February 22nd I was on duty at one of the Liverpool wires, and received Exhibit 4 for transmission to Liverpool—I dispatched it at 2.25—Exhibit 3 is the form in which the message would be delivered; it is only five words—it was received within a minute.
CHARLES JAMES LEAT . I am a telegraphist at the Central Office—on February 22nd I was on duty in the racing-room, receiving messages and the names of the winners—at 2.10 I got Exhibit 10, which shows that Edwardine won a race at Birmingham.
GEORGE ADAMS . I am one of the assistant superintendents in the Racing Division of the Central Telegraph Office—I was on duty on February 22nd—Shapley was there from 2.20 to 4 p.m. collecting messages for the wires—he would know the result immediately it was received in London, and if he wrote it on one of these forms and put it on the table, the clerk would send it on.
Cross-examined. A number of persons were performing the same duty—Mr. Percival was not working on the same date—there is considerable temptation to dishonesty in the way of persons there if they have dishonest intentions.
WILLIAM CHARLES HOOPER . I am a telegraphist in the Central Office—Exhibit 8 has my mark on it; it was put on the instrument by the distributor, and I sent it to Liverpool at 2.40 p.m. by the direct wire.
SIDNEY HIMES . I am a telegraphist in the Central Department—on February 2 th I received Exhibit 11 at 2.20—the name of the horse was Chirpy—the telegram came from Warwick Grand Stand—it would be distributed all round.
RICHARD COOK . I am assistant superintendent of the G Division of the Central Department—I was on duty on February 27th and March 1st—Shapley was on duty on both those days, in a position to learn the result of winners within a few moments of the race—No. 8 is a telegram purporting to have been sent off at 2.42—Shapley was in a position to put that in circulation at that time—No. 9 was in circulation for Liverpool in the same way; the time on that is 2.26.
GEORGINA SOPHIA LYNCH . I am assistant superintendent of the B group in the Metropolitan Gallery, Central Telegraph Office—I was on duty there on February 22nd and 27th and March 1st—these forms, 4, 8 and 9, purport to come from the Regent Street office—we have 10 wires communicating with Regent Street—they have the names of three operatives—the wires 829 and 830 were not at work that day in
an upward direction; telegrams were transmitted, but not to Regent Street—neither of the three telegraphists whose names are on these forms was at work on those days, and between those hours no telegrams were received from Regent Street on those wires.
ARTHUR BECKS . I am a tobacconist, of 325A, King's Road, Chelsea—part of my business is to receive letters for customers, addressed to my place for 1d. each—Baker came there in January and asked if I would take in letters for him in the name of Arthur Thompson—I agreed; letters came, he called for them, and I gave them to him—they were all from Guernsey or Liverpool—on February 12th he brought me this cheque for £9 14s., and asked if I could oblige him by cashing it, but I could not—on February 23rd a registered letter came for him—he called for it, and had it early in the morning—on February 28th a letter came by the first post with the Liverpool post-mark, and just after 3 p.m. a telegram—next morning there was another letter from Liverpool by the first post—Baker had them on March 2nd; he also had the letters named in Exhibit 1—on March 7th, about 3 p.m., while those letters were still in my possession, Shapley called—I had not seen him before—he gave no name—he asked if there were any letters for Arthur Thompson, as he was away at Portsmouth Arsenal, and he had had a letter asking him to call for them—I told him I could not let him have them—I still had them on March 14th, when Baker called about 6 p.m., when an official from the Past-Office was waiting in a room at the back—I had made an arrangement with him, and knocked at the glass when Baker was on the door mat—he seemed very agitated; he walked in and out, but would not come to the counter at all, and when I handed him the letters he ran out without them—the door was open—Tower, the Post Office constable, brought him back—he did not say why he ran away—I then gave him the letters—half of the shop is in Beaufort Street; it is on the corner.
WILLIAM MARTIN . I am in the Naval Store Department of the Admiralty—Baker was a copyist in that department from June, 1897, to August, 1899, when he was appointed second-class writer at Portsmouth—he was lent to the Admiralty, for convenience, from March 2nd to 14th—his hours were from 10 to 5, and sometimes from 9.30—he had an interval in the middle of the day—I know his writing—I believe this postal order and cheque to be his writing—he was paid 24s. a week, and had an allowance of 23s. 4d. for being in London.
Cross-examined. I have known him since he entered in 1897—he was a very good boy at his work, and received steady promotion on account of his good behaviour—he has been a straightforward lad, as far as I know.
FREDERICK HERBERT SWEET . I live at 47, Beaufort Street, Chelsea—Baker lodged with me for about four years, till about three weeks before he was arrested—I had no idea where he went from my house till after his arrest—Sidney Street is about seven minutes' walk off—he wished me good-bye when he left, because he was going to another appointment—he boarded with me—he was away at Portsmouth last year—Shapley is my brother-in-law—he often came to my house when Baker was there—his father is a very respectable man, living in the neighbourhood.
Cross-examined. Baker came from Dublin—he is of a respectable
family, and was then employed as a boy clerk at South Kensington Museum, and subsequently he got into the Admiralty—both the prisoners were members of St. Peter's Club.
By the COURT. I was under the impression that he had gone to another appointment—I believe he said something to my wife, but he only went away for a few weeks.
ALBERT BONE . I am a draper, of 90, Fulham Road—someone from Mr. Shapley's brought me this cheque for £9 14s.—I do not know whether Shapley had a banking account—I frequently changed cheques for him—it has my signature on the back.
MATTHEW TOWER . I am a police officer attached to the Poet Office—on March 14th, about 6.30 p.m., I was at Mr. Becks' premises—an intimation was made to me; I came out of the shop, and saw Baker 25 or 30 yards away, just dropping from a very hasty step into a leisurely one, looking anxiously over his shoulder, and going towards his lodging—I went up to him and said, "I am a police officer; it is necessary for you to come to the Post Office"—he made no reply—I took him back to the shop, and saw Mr. Becks hand him two letters—I took him to the General Post Office—Mr. Wood saw him, and he was given into custody about 9 o'clock—I searched him, and found on him this £5 Bank of England note—(Mr. Chuck here identified the number of the note.)—I took Baker to Old Scotland Yard, and charged him—he made no reply—next day I searched Shapley's lodgings—his father is a butcher there—when Shapley was searched I said, "What keys have you?"—he gave me some keys, and said that £2 would be found there—I went there, and found £7 in gold.
Cross-examined. He went with me without any objection whatever.
FRANK ORSON WOOD . I am in the Confidential Department of the General Post Office—in consequence of a complaint from Liverpool I was requested to make special inquiry into this case—I instructed Tower to bring Baker to the Post Office, and produced to him Exhibit No. 5, of February 27th, and said, "This telegram was received by Mr. Magnum, of Liverpool, from Arthur Thompson, purporting to be handed in at the Regent Street Office, but that it was not handed in there"—he said that he would answer any questions I liked to put—I asked him who he was—he said his name was Baker, of 47, Beaufort Street—I showed him telegram B, and said, "This is a forged telegram, sent to Arthur Thompson," and that I understood he had called for the letter—he said, "Yes"—I asked him what he had done with the money—he said that he kept half—I asked him what he had done with the other half—he said, "I do not wish to say"—I said, "Is it a relative?"—he said, "No"—I asked him how long he had lived at 47, Beaufort Street—he said, "Three years"—I said, "With whom?"—he said, "Mr. Sweet"—I said, "I must send to him and inquire"—I went back to the Central Office and made further inquiries, and on my return he said, "You have heard the name of the man to whom I sent the money?"—I said, "Do you mean Mr. Shapley?"—he said, "Yes"—before that I had shown him a telegram and this cheque for £9 14s.—he said that he had received that money and handed half of it to a man in the Post Office—I saw Shapley next morning, who said that he had had half of the money, that he did not know anything about the
forged telegram, but the reason he had half the money was that he and Baker both sent half the deposit money—I gave him in custody.
Cross-examined. Baker was quite open about the matter, except as to the question as to who was in the Post Office.
Baker, in his defence, stated on oath, that he agreed with Shapley to try his luck upon horse racing, and to receive letters in the name of Thompson; that they sent £2 10s. each to Guernsey, and that he sent 15 or 16 telegrams there from Waterloo Place, Regent Street, close to the Admiralty, and some from King's Road, Chelsea; that they lost upon 12 of them £14 or £15, and won £3; that he sent Mr. Magnum, of Liverpool, five telegrams, and lost upon these and won upon two; that he knew that the telegram of January 15th was going to be sent, but did not know that it was to be forged, as Shapley often got information at the Post Office by wire; that five of the forged telegrams, those of January 15th, February 4th and 22nd, and March 1st, were sent by Shapley, and he (Baker) had nothing to do with them; that he found out by calling for the letters that inquiries were being made, but did not know that there was any forgery till he showed them to Shapley, who said that they were forged, and that he then wrote the letter of March 2nd to Guernsey, stating that owing to unforeseen circumstances he should not be able to continue the account, and that he had changed his address, that he might not be seen passing the tobacconist's shop.
Both prisoners received good characters.
BAKER— GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy by the JURY.— Judgment respited. SHAPLEY— Six months' imprisonment in the second division.
OLD COURT.—Friday, April 26th, 1901.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. KERSHAW Prosecuted, and MR. ORMSBY Defended.
GEORGE WILLIAM RIDGEWELL . I live at 4, Berkley Street, Somers Town, and am an assistant to Mr. Robert Bryden, a certified bailiff—on Thursday, April 4th, I went with Mr. Bryden to 61, Burton Crescent—we got there about 2.30 or 2.45—a Mr. Hughes was with us—we found Mr. Sewell, the assistant bailiff of the Clerkenwell County Court, there—we started moving the goods from the front room—the prisoner came in with a friend named Batchelor—they made a disturbance—the prisoner used bad language, and they were asked to leave the room—Batchelor did so; he had to be pushed out at the door—I did not do it, somebody else did—the prisoner stayed in the room—he had a stick in his hand, and tried to hit Sewell on the head with it—I was taking the things out of the room then—the prisoner said, "I will blow you all b—well up before I am done"—he then got some white powder; I do not know where from—he put it on the floor in a lump in the middle of the room—he then took a bottle out of a box, without a lid, which was in the room—I had not put the bottle there—the box was full of bottles—I was taking the goods
out into the passage, and when I came back he was opening the bottle—he was in a stooping position, and was going to pour the contents of the bottle on to the powder—I rushed across the room to try and save other people's lives from being in danger—there were 15 people in the house—I was about 2ft. away from him when' he said, "Take that, you b—; I wish I could give you more," and threw some of the contents at me—he had poured a little of the liquid on to the floor—my clothes were burnt (Produced)—both my hands were burnt; they are better now—when he threw the stuff at me I was not struggling with him—I had not quite reached him—immediately the stuff was thrown I seized him by the throat with my finger and thumb, and took the bottle out of his right hand with my left—he then fell on the floor—he dragged hold of my coat, trying to pull me with him—I managed to keep away from him—one of the lodgers brought me some oil, which I rubbed over my hands—I was taken to Dr. McDonald by a policeman—I felt just as if I was on fire—my leg was burnt through my trousers; it has healed now—I gave the prisoner into custody—he was slightly muddled; he was not exactly drunk.
Cross-examined. I went there to assist Mr. Bryden to execute a warrant—I told the Magistrate that the prisoner came in with a big stick—the depositions were not read over to me, that I know of—I told the Magistrate that the prisoner said, "Take that, you b—; I wish I could give you more"—I said, "I rushed to him and tried to take the bottle from him; he then threw the contents of the bottle all over my clothes and my hands"—that is not a different story from what I am telling now—I did not see what occurred when the prisoner poured the acid over the white powder—I noticed when I got hold of him that the room was all full of smoke—he only poured about two drops on to the powder before he threw it over me—when he began pouring the stuff out of the bottle I thought the place would be blown up—I got hold of the neck of the bottle, and he had the butt—it was not while trying to get the bottle from him that the acid came over me—my hands were drenched when I got him by the throat—this (Produced) is the bottle—I cannot say how much there was in it—he did not upset any of it after I caught hold of the neck, because I held it up—before it occurred he did not say if we packed the bottles in the way they were done we should cause a blow up—he did not say, "For God's sake, what are you doing, handling the bottles like that"—I did say before the Magistrate that I would not swear that the prisoner did not say that—I will swear now that he did not—I have considered what he said since—I have not talked the matter over with anyone since—I was slightly confused at the Court, being in such pain.
Re-examined. While I was in the room I did not see anybody handle the bottles except the prisoner—I caught him with my right hand, and the top of the bottle with my left—while I was holding the bottle I kept hold of the prisoner's throat—my right hand was injured.
By the JURY. I only saw one box in the room—all the bottles were blue, but of different sizes—I did not see the prisoner pick the bottle up, or open it.
SAMUEL SEWELL . I live at 51, Witherington Road, Highbury, and am assistant-bailiff at Clerkenwell County Court—I received this warrant from the County Court on April 2nd—it is under the Lodgers Act—it is
a judicial order to give possession—I went to 61, Barton Crescent, on April 3rd, and again on the 4th, about 1.30—I did not see the prisoner—I saw Mrs. Murray and told her I was going to carry out the execution; the warrant was one for distress as well as ejectment—I went into both rooms—in the front room there were a large number of medical bottles; I collected them with one of my fellow workers—I have had 12 years' experience in a chemist's shop, and I said that we should have to be very careful with them, and I would pack them myself—I packed them, partly in some drawers which we took out of a table and partly in some trays—this bottle was packed in a large drawer, and was surrounded with 40 or 50 other bottles of all colours, but very few blue ones—I knew they contained acid—I think there were five drawers altogether, and we placed them on one side near a window on the floor, side by side—I was going to have them put on the tail part of the van—I remember Mr. Bryden and the last witness coming in about 2.30—I first saw the prisoner sometime after three—he came in with a man called Batchelor, who made himself very offensive—I asked him if his name was Mr. Banks; he said, "No;" and I said, "Well, we have a troublesome job here, and we don't want to be troubled with you," and we put him outside—the prisoner had a tremendous great stick in his hand—his behaviour was like a mad man's—he used very offensive words, and would not submit to having the things taken out—I said he would have to submit to it—he was going to strike me with the stick when Mr. Bryden, I think, wrenched it out of his hand and put it on one side—Mrs. Murray came and prevailed upon the prisoner to be quiet—he remained in the room quietly for about 20 minutes, then he started again, and said, after some bad words, "I will kill the lot of you; I will blow the place up and set fire to it"—Hughes and Ridgewell were taking things out—I was handing them to them, and I smelt something very unpleasant—I turned round and said to Ridgewell, "He means doing it"—I saw some powder on the floor, and some black fluid mixed with it—I did not exactly see the prisoner's position—the fluid set the powder on fire—the powder was about 12in. by 8in. on the floor, and the flames about 4in. high—I stamped them out, and Ridgewell went to try to get the bottle from the prisoner's hands—I heard them scuffling, but did not see them, because I was trying to put the fire out—I did not see any fluid coming from the bottle—I turned round and saw Ridgewell, who appeared to be in great agony—the prisoner said, "I am sorry I was not more successful"—a man brought a bottle of oil—a constable came in and took the prisoner out of the place—I stopped behind to execute the warrant.
Cross-examined. I do not know if I used the word "kill" before the Magistrate; I said "annihilate"—the prisoner said he would kill the whole lot of us—I did not see him pour the acid over the powder; it was the smell which attracted my attention—the flames must have been created before Ridge well rushed at the prisoner—I did not see Ridgewell go to the prisoner before I tried to put the flames out—I did not know that the prisoner got any of the acid over himself—I know now that he did.
Re-examined. The exact words the prisoner used were, "There, you
have got it, and I wish you had got more of it"—during the 20 minutes when the prisoner was quiet, nobody, so far as I know, touched the box where the bottle was.
ROBERT BRYDEN . I am a certified bailiff, of 51, Charlton Street, Euston Road—on Thursday, April 4th, I went with Ridgewell to 61, Burton Crescent, just before 3 p.m.—I saw Sewell there—the prisoner and Batchelor came in a little time afterwards—the prisoner was very excited, and Batchelor began to rail at the County Court officer about some other matter—I put him outside out of the way—the prisoner remained in the room—he had a large holly stick with him—he flourished it about, and said he would burn or blow us all up before he had done with us—I got the stick away from him, and threw it into the back room out of the way—he was quiet for five or six minutes, then he commenced to get very excited again—I went down to Hunter Street Police-station, and spoke to the inspector—when I returned with a constable the room was full of smoke; Ridgewell and the prisoner were getting up off the floor—Ridgwell said to me, "Look what he has done to me, governor," showing me his hands, which were very red—the stuff was all running down his clothes—the constable took the prisoner into custody.
Cross-examined. He said nothing when he was taken into custody.
JOSEPH JOCKLYN (286 E). On April 4th, in the afternoon, I went to 61, Burton Crescent—I went into the front room—it was all upside down, and full of vapour; you could scarcely get your breath—the prosecutor and the prisoner were in a very excited condition—the prosecutor's coat was smoking—he said to me, "This man has thrown some acid over me"—I said, "What acid?"—he said, "It is in this bottle," and produced this bottle—I told the prisoner he would have to come to the station with me—he said, "All right; I have got some on my own hands"—he washed his hands in some water—he said, "If those bottles had caught, half Burton Crescent would have been blown away"—I took him to the station—in answer to the charge he said, "That is a lie"—there was no cork in the bottle at the time of the occurrence.
Cross-examined. I told the Magistrate that the prosecutor had accused the prisoner of throwing the acid over him.
JAMES MCDONALD . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 65, Judd Street—on April 4th the prosecutor was brought to me, suffering from burns on both hands, the result of a corrosive fluid—I have tested the contents of this bottle since—it contains sulphuric acid—its strength is 80 or 90 per cent—the prosecutor is not permanently scarred; that is partly due to the oil which he put on it—his trousers were burnt, and also his leg, but not much.
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he was a medical tutor, and when he was in the room he took up some chlorate of potash and put a pinch of it on a corner of the hearthstone; that he told the men the danger they had been in through packing the bottles as they did, and said he would show them the danger they had run, and poured two or three drops of sulphuric acid on the chlorate of potash, which at once cracked and fused; that the prosecutor rushed across to him, and got him by the throat; that he found some fluid coming over his own hands; that the prosecutor then let go of him; that he did not throw the acid over him, and had no intention of
doing so; that he did not know the prosecutor had any over him, and that when he did know he said, "You have got some on your own hands, have you? it serves you right, intermeddling; it was lucky it was not pure acid, and if those bottles had caught it would be lucky if the whole place was not blown down"; and that the prosecutor must have got injured on his left hand in the struggle, and on his right by rubbing it against the left.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KERSHAW, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, April 26th, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
339. JOHN JOSEPH WALKER PLEADED GUILTY to corruptly offering £5 to George Wood, a servant of the Metropolitan Asylums Board, as a gift, to do a certain thing in which the Board was concerned.— Fined£500 to the King.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, April 26th, 1901.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WIPPELL Prosecuted, and MR. GREEN Defended.
LENA RAICIS (Interpreted). I am the mother of Annie Raicis—she was born on August 7th, 1885—she lived with me and my husband at 4, Burton's Entry, White Horse Street, Stepney, till about three weeks after Christmas last, when the prisoner came to pay his attentions to her—on the Great Night of the Polish Festival he said he wanted to marry her; that was about nine weeks after Christmas and about five weeks after he first came—he took her to his house three weeks after Christmas; he did not come to the house, but she went to the club for a dance—when I noticed his attentions I said to him, "What do you want? She is very young; if you intend to marry her, then you will have to show me that you are a single man; somebody told me you are a married man"—he said, "I am a single man; I have not married before"—I did not want him to take out my girl any more—I said, "As soon as you will show me some papers which will convince me that you are a single man then I will allow you to take her out"—he said, "All right, let the girl be with you in your house, and as soon as I get the papers I will marry her"—I heard him tell my daughter that he was a
single man—that was three weeks after the police brought her back (January 31st)—I had not seen her for three weeks—I found her at No. 7, Red Lion Street, with the prisoner—I went there with an interpreter and two constables from the Police-court—she did not want to come with me, so I went to the Police-station the next morning, and with two officers took her from the house—the prisoner came to my house twice on the Saturday and Sunday, and told me that I should not be afraid, he would pay all expenses as soon as he could get his papers and marry her—she left my house about April 7th, two or three weeks before the Easter holiday—the police again visited me, and I saw the girl at 7, Red Lion Street.
WILLIAM RAICIS (Interpreted). I live at 4, Burton's Entry, White Horse Street, Stepney—I am the father of Annie Raicis—she lived with us till three weeks after last Christmas, when the prisoner came to pay his attentions—he said he wanted to marry her, and that he was a single man—I asked him to produce papers to convince me that he was single—he said, "I cannot give you any papers, but I will bring you some man or witness who will swear that I am a single man"—he could not produce such papers, so I have tried to procure them—he brought some whisky, that I should get drunk—I told him not to come any more to my house—he told me he loved my daughter—then my daughter was absent about three weeks—I found her at 7, Red Lion Street—she was brought to my house from there—on Sunday, March 10th, I saw the prisoner at the place where he is working—I cannot recollect exactly where, but I have seen him in the street—he was standing in the street, trying to call my daughter out of the house—he asked me if my daughter was indoors—I did not speak to him, seeing that he was a false man.
FRANK BEAVIS (Detective, II). On January 31st I went to 7, Red Lion Street, with Sergeant Richardson, the boy Raicis, the brother, and the father of the girl—I went twice; first in the middle of the day, and afterwards in the evening, when we fetched the girl home—in the middle of the day the girl came home to dinner whilst we were there—I ascertained that it was the prisoner's room she came to—she was sitting down on a bed—I spoke to her, and took her home—I saw the prisoner, there—in the evening I went back with Richardson and the boy Albert Raicis—I saw the prisoner and the girl—it was only one room—I said to the prisoner, "I have been directed by the Magistrate to take this girl home, as a warrant is being applied for against you; I also caution you that the girl is only 15 years old"—he said, "I know that; she told me so"—I said, "If you have her back here again, you will probably be arrested"—he said, "I will never have her back in the house again"—I took her home to her parents—on the 3rd inst. the parents came to me again—I applied for a warrant at the Thames Police-Court; it was granted—on that evening I went to 7, Red Lion Street—I saw the girl and the prisoner sitting on the bed, the prisoner's brother and another man being in the room—the warrant was read to him; he made no reply—he was taken to Arbour Square Police-station and charged—he said, "All right"—he speaks English a trifle when it suits him.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, April 27th, 1901.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ROBERTS Prosecuted.
WILLIAM HASKINS . I am a warehouseman, of 9, Herman Street, Clerkenwell—on November 9th last year, about 11.30 p.m., I was going down Henry Street, towards Herman Street, when I was seized from behind by four men, who put their hands into my pockets and pulled me to the ground—two of them came in front of me and snatched an my watch and chain; they missed it the first time, and the second time they broke the chain—I had seen them several times before—he held my right hand while the other men went down my pockets—two of the other men have been convicted at this Court (See Vol. CXXXIII. page 79)—my purse was taken—it had 6s. 6d. in it in silver and 1d. in bronze—when I got up they all ran away—I did not see the prisoner again till I saw him at the Police-court on April 10th—I gave a description of him to the police.
WALTER SELBY (Detective, G). On the night of April 9th I saw the prisoner enter the public bar of the Agricultural public-house, Liverpool Road—I followed him in and said, "Connelly, I want you"—he said, "All right, I will go quiet"—outside the house I said, "You are arrested for being concerned with Smith and Rooney, convicted of assaulting and robbing a man at the corner of Herman Street on November 7th last year"—he said, "I am glad it is all over; you have got me; I hope you will give me a chance"—I knew him before—I had been searching for him ever since the robbery, but could not find him—he was detained at King's Cross Road Station—the following morning I said to him, "The prosecutor in this case says he knows you well by sight, but you can be placed up with others for identification if you like"—he said, "I will be placed up with others"—he was then placed up with seven other men, and was identified by the prosecutor—he was charged, and made no reply.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that on the night of the robbery he was in the Queen's Arms about 8.40 with Smith and Rooney; that about 10 p.m. he left, and went home to bed, where his wife found him at 12 o'clock; that when he heard next morning that the detectives were after him he went away, is he knew he would get the blame, having been seen drinking with the other men; and that he had been taken for somebody else.
Evidence for the Defence.
EMILY CONNELLY . My real name is Martin—I am not the prisoner's wife; I live with him—on November 7th I was living with him at 66, Cromer Street—I know Herman Street; it is about 15 minutes from Cromer Street—on November 7th I went home between 11.30 and 12, and found the prisoner in bed.
GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony at Clerkenwell on December 14th, 1896, and another conviction was proved against him.— Twelve months' hard labour.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, April 27th, 1901.
(For the case of Fleming and King, tried this day, see Essex Cases.)
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
The COURT considered that it would not be right to proceed with the charge of manslaughter, and MR. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
344. HENRY WILLIAM WELSH and ALICE WELSH were again indicted for that they, having the care and custody of Edwin Cyril Welsh, a boy under the age of 16, did wilfully neglect him in a manner likely to cause him unnecessary suffering and injury to his health.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
SARAH MOON . I am the wife of William Moon, a labourer, of 6, Red-brick Cottages, Langley, Buckingham—until quite recently I lived at Barking, and knew the prisoner and his wife—they lived at 1, Victoria Road, Barking—on March 12th I went there and saw their child, Edwin Cyril Welsh, aged six months—I think it was a Tuesday—the child's breathing was very short, and it had whooping cough—I thought it had bronchitis by its breathing, and the mother thought the same—I attended it, off and on, till the 18th, when it died—while I was there it got worse—the parents held a prayer-meeting and anointed it with oil in the name of the Lord—it had convulsion fits, but after the prayer-meeting it had no more fits—the parents knew it was very ill—no doctor was called in and no medicine given to it—as far as the parents were concerned, it received every attention—it was kept in a warm room with a fire—it had the best milk they could get—it had barley tea and mutton broth, and it was kept warm, and wrapped in flannel and wadding—all those things were done because it was ill—I was there when it died in a fit of coughing.
Cross-examined by Henry Welsh. I have known you 13 years—you always treated your children with the greatest kindness—I never heard you speak to them as you ought not to.
Re-examined. He has eight children alive—four others have died, besides this one; none of them had a doctor—I was not there then; I heard the male prisoner say at the Coroner's Court that four had died.
JAMES SHIMEL , L.R.C.S. and L.R.C.P. Edinburgh, and Divisional Surgeon of Police—I live at Salisbury House, Ilford—on March 18th I was called to the defendant's residence by a telegram from the police—I saw the deceased there; he was about six months old—he had been dead some hours, as rigor mortis had set in—on March 20th I made a post-mortem examination; he had died of acute pneumonia—both the lower lobes of the lungs had been inflamed, and were red and solid—I should say pneumonia had existed four or five days—whooping cough began a month before that—there was no bronchitis in the lungs—if there had been medical attendance in the early part of the illness, I think the child's
sufferings would have been alleviated; I think its life could have been prolonged, and, perhaps, saved altogether—the pain could have been alleviated by giving it some drugs, which would have reduced the inflammation—it had not had any medical attendance or any medicine at all—during the whooping cough stage medical attendance would have assisted it—I have had several children about this age lately whom I have saved; one or two died, but some of them lived—there has been an epidemic in Ilford just lately—if I had been called in when it was suffering from pneumonia, I should have given it some acid tanilade and some antifebrine drugs, which would lessen its sufferings—it must have been in such a condition that any ordinary parents must have seen its condition—considering it had been ill a month, it was fairly nourished—there was no deformity, and no signs of any external injury.
Cross-examined by Henry Welsh. I cannot estimate exactly the amount of pain your baby suffered, but at the beginning of pneumonia it must suffer considerable pain—I could not know by the post-mortem whether God had taken the child's pain away.
Re-examined. If I had been called in when the child was suffering from whooping cough I could have lessened the intensity of the cough—this child began with convulsions, and they went on probably until its death—the convulsions would make it a little unconscious—because a child is not strong enough to cry it does not follow that it is not suffering pain.
ALEXANDER AMBROSE . I am Coroner for the Metropolitan district of the County of Essex—I live at Loughton, and am a medical man—I held an inquest on the deceased child on March 19th and 22nd—the prisoners gave evidence—their evidence was taken down in writing, read over to them and signed by both of them—they were cautioned—their statements were voluntary—(The evidence of Alice Welsh was that the deceased was her son, aged six months; that he had been suffering from whooping cough; that after he had had it a fortnight, she sent for an elder of the Churchy and had him prayed over; that he got worse and worse, and died on the 18th. Henry Welsh said that he was the deceased's father; that he knew he had whooping cough, and thought it had bronchitis as well; that an elder was called in to pray over the child; that he thought it had a poor chance with both complaints, but that he did not call in a doctor, as it was against his religious belief, and that he took every care of his children with that exception.
Cross-examined by Henry Welsh. I think I have a right to leave the Court with the Jury when they ask me to do so.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Henry Welsh says: "I wish to say, after proving the Word of God as I have done for nearly 30 years, and having saved my soul for that period, my reason for taking this course is solely to answer the Word of God, who has answered my prayer and taken away my pain and my wife's many times; I honour God and His Word." Alice Welsh says: "I say no more than my husband."
MR. HUTTON submitted that the wife was equally liable with the husband, although he was there at the time (See 31-32 Vic, chap. 132), with which MR. JUSTICE PHILLIMORE agreed.
Evidence for the Defence.
Avenue, Barking—I have known Henry Welsh about 27 years all his married life and before he was married—he has always been the most kind father I have ever known—I attended his child to administer the Word of God—I am an elder—I anointed the child with oil in the name of the Lord on March 3rd, 12th, and 17th—it had every attention; it was kept in one room and wrapped in flannel—we do not take the course we do because we are headstrong or self-willed, but simply to obey the Word of God, and we have proved some great successes, God healing the sick—we believe it right to trust in God solely—we allow that the science of men is a splendid institution for those who require it. The male prisoner appeared to be aware that the child was very ill—he asked for a special prayer meeting on that account—prior to that the child had been in fits—I believe after the special meeting the child had no more fits—I have attended cases where a doctor has been, and where I have seen far greater pain than this child suffered—I believe God eased the pain.
Cross-examined. I have never called in a doctor under any circumstances—if a child broke its leg I should call in a doctor to set it—that would be to alleviate its sufferings, but to counteract that, we believe that God preserves the bones of the righteous—if I broke my leg I should say I was not righteous, and put the blame on myself; therefore I should have a surgeon—if I lost an eye, I very probably should not have a surgeon—we have not had a case like that—if my child had a severe cut, and was bleeding to death, I very probably should not have a surgeon in—I have not had such a case—if my child was suffering, and I thought a doctor could lessen its sufferings, I should have one in—I have never done so to try whether he could lessen its sufferings, simply because I have not believed it would.
By the COURT. I am married, and have five children—I have not lost any; I have had some very ill, but God has rose them up.
THOMAS MOSS . I am a draper and outfitter, of 3, Glenny Road, Barking—I have known Henry Welsh over six years as a strictly kind, affectionate, and attentive father, giving his children everything that he considered good for them.
By the COURT. I know the wife; she is always kind and attentive to her children.
Alice Welsh, in her defence, on oath, said that she did not have medical aid because she believed in the Word of God; that for 30 years the Lord had saved her soul, and she believed He would heal her and her children.
Henry Welsh, in his defence, said that all he had done was solely because he wished to obey the Word of God; that, as God had saved him 30 years ago, he believed He could save him and his children now.
GUILTY .—MR. HUTTON stated that the male prisoner's wages averaged 30s, a week. HENRY WELSH— Fined £20, or two months' imprisonment. (The fine was paid.) ALICE WELSH— Discharged on recognizances.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
346. WILLIAM FLEMMING (26) and JAMES KING (42) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of the London and India Dock Company, and stealing two spoons, five shirts, and other articles, their property, to which FLEMMING PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. MUIR Prosecuted.
WILLIAM FRENCH (Dock Police Inspector). This (Produced) is a plan of the Victoria Dock—it is reasonably correct—here is No. 19 shed and the fence, and beyond that there is waste ground—on April 10th the Strath Don sailing ship was unloading at 19 shed—the Mandelay, which was about 100 yards off, had discharged some passengers' luggage into that shed the day before, and it was there—I have known King a number of years—he was employed on the Strath Don that day—they ceased work about 2 o'clock that day, Wednesday, and I saw King come ashore and go to the pay-table inside the dock—they had not finished unloading, but the men knocked off, and the Strath Don did not work any more that day.
Cross-examined by King. There was no ship at work after 2 o'clock; if there had been our gatekeeper would have seen the men go out, and a ship working would appear on our books—no ship was working that night—they do not often work at night on the south side of the docks, only twice a week—when Flemming was fetched into the dock station I did not say, "Oh, was not it you? You are one of his mates."
EDWARD HUMPHREY . I live at the British Flag public-house, Alice Street, Victoria Dock Road, and am assistant manager there—I have known both the prisoners about six months—they were drinking together at my public-house on April 10th for two hours; they left together about 9 p.m., and did not return that night—my house is about 20 minutes' walk from Corey's Gate.
Cross-examined. I was in the bar when you came in—I served you—I watched you because you are a rough character—I do not remember whether you made any noise on that occasion—my potman was not there; he was discharged on the Saturday before—I told him at the Police-court that if he went there false swearing he would be wrong, and he went away—I have no idea what he was going to say.
W. FRENCH (Re-examined). I have measured the distances; it is 150 yards from No. 19 shed to the boundary fence, and 1,600 yards from the fence to King's house—I walked it with another constable in 13 minutes; we timed ourselves—from the British Flag to Corey's Gate is 750 yards; I walked it in six minutes.
HENRY KNUPPEL (Dock Constable, 227). I am stationed in Victoria Docks—on the evening of April 10th I was on duty at Corey's Gate, which is just over the canal bridge outside the fence—there is a policebox there—I have to be careful who I let in and out—Flemming knocked at the gate about 9.30; it was dark, but there was a light there—I opened it partly, and he said, "We want to work at the Mandelay, and if we were not going to work we should not have brought our food"—I saw the tops of two screw-stoppered bottles in his pocket—King, whom I had known nine years, was with him, and wore a silk hat like this (Produced)—he had a stoppered bottle like these (Produced)—I let them pass
on, and about 11.25 Pearce and Bond brought Flemming to my box in custody.
Cross-examined. I have seen you wearing a silk hat many times.
King. I never wore one in my life.
THOMAS WILLIAM AINSWORTH (Dock Constable, 240). I am on the sick list—on the night of April 10th I was on patrol duty, and passed No. 19 shed at 10.30—I inspected the two Customs locks, and they were all right; I passed again at 11.30, and they were gone—I signalled to Constable Green; we entered the shed together, I turned on my lamp, and saw Flemming standing up straight—it is a large shed, and if King was at the other end of it he might not have heard what I said, but he could hear what Flemming said, because he spoke loudly—I had a conversation with Flemming, and took him in custody—we closed on him and took him outside, but he is a very powerful man, and we took him back, and a man came from the other end of the shed and struck me behind with some blunt instrument and knocked me down unconscious—I did not see him.
HARRY GREEN (Dock Constable, 113). On April 10th, at, night, I was on duty, and saw a signal—I went to 19 shed, and saw Ainsworth—I went in with him, and arrested Flemming, and took him out of the shed and back again—we had a struggle, and another man, Ginger Cake, came up—that is the man (King)—he came about 10 yards, with my lamp full on his face—he struck the constable with a jemmy and knocked him down, and tried to strike me several times—he knocked me down and broke my helmet—here is the mark on my eye—they both got away—King was wearing a hard felt hat—I did not notice whether he lost it, because I was knocked down—when I came to myself I assisted my comrade—I thought he was dead—I afterwards assisted in taking him to the hospital—he has been attended there up to now, and is still on the sick list.
Cross-examined. When I let go of Flemming I shone the bull's eye on your face—I am sure it was you; I have known you over 12 months—I picked you out from several others at the station, and said, "That is Ginger."
By the COURT. I had said that it was Ginger Cake before King was arrested.
HARRY PEARCE (Detective Dock Constable). On April 10th, at 11.30, I was with Bond inside the docks on the south side, between the warehouse and the fence, and saw two men come down the alley at a walking pace—they went to the fence, and we went after them—Flemming was just getting over the fence when I pulled him down, but King got over—he had no hat or cap on—there is an electric are lamp on the fence—I have known King about 12 months, and seen him every day—I captured Flemming after a struggle—this instrument was in his pocket—it is a lock-opener, or jemmy—I took him to Corney Gate, and left him in Bond's charge—I went back and recovered the jemmy, and then went to 19 shed and found Green insensible—I examined a lock-up inside the shed—a Customs lock had been broken, and three boxes of passengers' luggage broken open belonging to the Storm Bird—there were marks on them corresponding with the plain end of the jemmy—I
found the articles named in the indictment in this sailors' kit-bag, all ready for removal, also a bit of candle and a box of matches on one of the boxes, this hat on the floor near the door, and two bottles which had contained beer, one inside the shed, and one outside—I have tried this hat on King, and it fits him.
The prisoner King. I have the man outside who did this job.
E. HUMPHREY (Re-examined). When the prisoners were in my house King wore a cap, and Flemming a hard hat; I am sure of that—I think King's cap was brown.
Cross-examined. I think that that is very like it (A brown cap produced by King).
H. PEARCE (Re-examined). When I caught Flemming he had a skull cap on.
WILLIAM BOND (Detective Dock Constable). I was with Pearce on April 10th, when Flemming was arrested—I saw the other man who got over the fence; it was the prisoner King; I have known him 12 months—King had nothing on his head—Flemming had this cap on.
EGERTON PRATT (8 K.R). I received information, and on April 11th, at 6.40 a.m., I saw King in Tidal Basin Road, and said, "George, I want to speak to you; I am going to take you into custody on suspicion of being concerned with another man in assaulting the dock police during the night"—he said, "I was not there; I was in the British Flag from eight to eleven last night, and have not been in the dock since 2 o'clock yesterday"—I took him to the station, and he was charged—he was wearing a brown cap—Green picked him out.
Cross-examined. You were going towards the dock; you were about 50 yards from the gate.
Evidence for King's Defence.
ELIZABETH KNIGHT . I live at 167, Victoria Dock Road—my husband is James Knight, but his proper name is King—the prisoner King came home on Wednesday night at 11.15, and did not go out again that night.
Cross-examined. I know the time because I was just going to fix the alarum of the clock—he came home the night before at 9 o'clock, and the night before that at 9 o'clock—I do not recollect the week before—I heard of the charge against my husband at nine next morning, and, of course, I knew he had not been out—I did not know the time it happened, but I know that he was in bed till it did happen—it was at the Police-court that I first heard at what hour the offence was said to have been committed, and I went into the witness-box—I was called twice; before I was called the second time I had seen somebody who my husband said had committed the offence, a man named Reardon, who is outside—I called Reardon out in Victoria Dock Road the same day, and asked him what he knew about this affair—he said that he did not know anything about it—I said, "Perhaps you will have to know"—that is all the conversation that took place—I have known Reardon several years—I have seen my husband with him—he is not an enemy of his that I know of.
till 11.15 at the Sidney Arms, Alley Street, and at the British flag; we came out of there when it shut up.
Cross-examined. We went to the Sidney Arms first, and to the British Flag about 6.30, and stopped there till closing time—Flemming was not there, I have known him 14 or 15 years, I do not know whether he is a friend of King's, but I have seen them together—I have known King seven or eight years—I did not see them together at the British Flag on the 10th—I go there once or twice a week—I did not spend the whole evening there on the Monday, I went in about 4 p.m.—I only had a glass of ale and went home, and on Tuesday I had a glass of ale at 11 a.m., and came away—I know the potman at the British Flag by the name of Harry—he was there on this night—he came to West Ham Police-court and went back—I spoke to him—I do not know what he came there for—he was at the British Flag on this night, and every night—I did not take notice whether he was there on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday—I know Reardon; I did not see him there that night—I have seen Flemming there—he was not there from six to eleven that night—I have never seen him wearing a high hat—if I have seen King wearing one it is a long time ago.
Cross-examined. I live in the same house as King—his wife told me that she had given evidence at the Police-court, and asked me if I heard him come in—she did not tell me at what time the offence was committed—I did not know that he was charged with committing the offence at 11 o'clock; all that I understood was that I was to prove the time he came home on Wednesday night.
WILLIAM FLEMMING . I have pleaded guilty to this warehouse breaking—I am a coal porter—I never saw King from Monday till the Thursday morning at the Police-station—I did not see him on the Wednesday; I was not with him in the British Flag on the Wednesday—he did not go into the Docks with me, and he was not in my company—Ginger Reardon was in my company very nearly all day on Wednesday—I was in drink in the evening—Ginger had a hard bat like this—I do not know that you helped him up over the fence, but he was with you.
Cross-examined. I was very nearly asleep when the police came into the room—this is the cap I was wearing—it fits me (Trying it on); I could change hats with any person whom that cap fits—that is the man who was with me (Reardon).
The prisoner King. That is the man who was in the shed.
Evidence in Reply.
JAMES REARDON . I am a dock labourer—it is not true that I was with Flemming on April 10th, engaged in the robbery—I was in the Old Ship public-house, which I left at 10.30 or 10.40—I was with Flemming from about 4 p.m. till 7 p.m. in the Old Ship; he left, and I did not see him again that night—I did not tell anybody that I had committed a robbery—this hat is not mine.
9 p.m. till 9.55—I cannot say if he had been out in the meantime—we are about two minutes' walk from the Flag—Reardon was wearing a bowler hat—Flemming was in my house during the day; I last saw him there about tea time—I think he and King were wearing caps.
H. GREEN (Re-examined). I know Reardon; I knew him before the night of the robbery—he is not the man who was with Flemming; it was King—I have known him over 12 months.
H. PEARCE (Re-examined). It was King I saw in the shed; I have known him over 12 months—I do not know Reardon.
H. KNUPPEL (Re-examined). I knew Reardon before, but I did not know his name—I am quite sure he was not the man in the shed; it was King.
King's defence: I was going to work. I had not been in the dock since 2 o'clock, but the police said I was the man. I was remanded for a week, and in the cell Flemming told me that he was with Ginger, and lost his hat. I was at home and in bed at the time. They are swearing my life away. I have been taken for him several times, and have done12 months' hard labour with him. I should duck my face; I would not let him see me with a bull's eye.
KING— GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on May 3rd, 1897 (Reardon was convicted with King on that occasion. See Vol. CXXVI., p. 568). Four other convictions were proved against King. KING— Seven years' penal servitude .
FLEMMING— Eighteen months' hard labour .
MR. GREENFIELD Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.
WILLIAM GEORGE HALLS . I am a slater, of 13, Meath Road, West Ham—I have been employed by Mr. Templett, of Upton Park, six months at £2 6s. 8d. a week—on Sunday, April 7th, about 3 p.m., I was outside the Lord Gough public-house, Plaistow Road—the prisoners were there with a number of men—Edward came and struck me in the face—the other followed and struck me, and I fell—I was struck on the eye and on the right cheek—Edward kicked me in the jaw while I was on the ground, and on my right arm and left shoulder—Edward got behind me, put his hands one in each of my trousers pockets, and lifted me off the ground—I had £1 7s. 6d. in my right pocket loose and £3 in the left in gold in a purse—the purse and £3 were taken—I went to the Police-station—I came back with Fowler about 4.30, and saw Michael outside the public-house with a soldier—I said, "You are the man I am looking for"—the constable was at the corner at hand—Michael answered, "It is not me you cannot pinch me"—I said, "I am going to"—he ran away—I followed with Fowler, who caught him in an outhouse—he was taken to the station—I charged him with stealing my money—he said he was not
there, he was not guilty—I know them by sight, not well; they stand outside the public-house every time I go by—I never spoke to them before.
Cross-examined. Just before closing time on Saturday night Edward had a row with me—he offered to fight me, and I told him to put his coat on and tore the arm of his shirt, holding him by the arm, to prevent his hitting me—both prisoners kicked me when I was on the ground—there were 50 or 60 people there—Edward very nearly fought another man, because the man said it was cowardly to kick me as he did—the fight went on about 10 minutes—I waited for a policeman, but none came—two of my friends were there—I mentioned a few minutes afterwards that my purse was stolen—I did not feel Edward take the money, but it was there two or three minutes before—I have been in the neighbourhood 13 or 14 years—I have been in prison six times, but I have been doing honest work—I was sentenced to penal servitude at Chelmsford Quarter Sessions—a lot of people do not like me; when you try to live honestly that is how they serve you—I was sober on the Sunday afternoon—I think the man (Bush) was at the row—I did not see him (Meagre)—Mrs. Watts and my sister came up while the row was going on—I think they saw the beginning of the fight—I was insensible two or three seconds when they kicked me on the jaw.
Re-examined. My last conviction was in 1893—I said to Mrs. Watts, "Go and fetch a policeman; they have robbed me of £3"—I never struck the prisoners at any time—when I went home on Saturday night a dozen men came to my house, and were going to murder me; I heard their noise—when I came out of the public-house I felt the purse in my pocket—I came out from my sentence on December 30th, 1895—I have since worked as a slater, and have not got into trouble.
ALICE MAUD WATTS . I am the wife of George Watts, of 13, Meath Road, West Ham—the prosecutor lives at our house—on Sunday, April 7th, about 3 p.m., I saw the prisoners outside the Lord Gough—Edward hit him—he was knocked down, and Edward kicked him—when he was knocked down the second time I did not notice Michael kick him, but he punched him after he was down—he was lifted up more than once—he was knocked down several times—Michael kicked him once, the second time he was down—Halls said to me, "Will you fetch a policeman? I have lost my purse," and I went for a policeman—when I came back I heard he was fighting with another young man, but I had not seen him since till I went to the Police-station, when he was charged on the Friday.
By the JURY. It was not a free fight.
Cross-examined. My husband has been away in the country three months—the prosecutor and Mr. and Mrs. Watts only have half the house—the prisoners came to my house, and I set the dogs on them—I saw them on the Saturday evening, and they thrashed the prosecutor—I got to the Lord Gough on the Sunday afternoon just as the row commenced—he said he could take one on, but it was not fair to fight three at once—the prisoners were using the prosecutor shamefully—I went for the police, and then to the station, because I could not find a policeman—Halls' sister came behind me to the Lord Gough—she was close enough to hear what was said.
13, Meath Road, West Ham—I was with the last witness outside the Gough public-house about 3 p.m, on Sunday, April 7th—I saw a crowd, and the prosecutor knocked down and lifted up again by Edwards—Michael put his left arm round him, and struck him with his right hand on the cheek—he was knocked down again, I cannot say by whom—there was a crowd in front of me—when on his feet he said, "Fetch a policeman; I have lost my money"—I went off, but did not find one—when I came back he was fighting another young fellow I could not recognise.
Cross-examined. I used to keep house for my father and brother, but had to go to work all day, and now I pay Mrs. Watts, for board and lodging.
GEORGE FOWLER (555 K). I am stationed at West Ham—about 4.30 p.m. on April 7th my attention was called to this matter, and I went to Stratford Road—outside the Lord Gough I saw the prisoners running towards West Ham Church, followed by the prosecutor—I followed Michael to Eltham Gardens, Vicarage Lane, where he entered an outhouse, and I went up to him and said, "I want you for being concerned with others in assaulting a man outside the Lord Gough public-hoose this afternoon. You will have to come to the station"—he said, "You have made a mistake; I am the wrong man"—I took him to the station—Halls was there—Michael was charged with assault and robbery; he made no reply.
Cross-examined. Michael has been in the Militia—he came from the camp in Ireland last October—he is respectable, as far as I know—the prosecutor made a complaint at the station to the inspector—I took Michael for assault; I had then no evidence of robbery—Halls was disfigured—Michael went quietly to the station; he was sober.
Re-examined. Although the charge was assault, a complaint of another character had been made—they were all sober.
JOHN MARSHALL (Detective Officer). On April 11th, about 11 p.m., I went to 164, Abbey Lane—I said to Edward Redman, "I shall take you into custody for being concerned with your brother in assaulting and robbing a man outside the Gough public-house last Sunday night at 7 o'clock"—he said, "It was a fair fight; I did not rob him"—I took him to the station—he was charged before, the inspector with assaulting and robbing a man—he made no reply—I did not know Halls till the following Easter Monday.
Cross-examined. Edward's late employers gave him a good character—when arrested he had a slight discoloration of his left eye, but it was dying away—it looked as if he had had a blow there.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Michael says: "I am not guilty. I reserve my defence. I did not touch the man, and my brother did not rob him." Edward says: "I am not guilty in stealing the purse."
The prisoners, in their defence, on oath, severally said this was a quarrel and a free fight, and that they were only defending themselves, and did not rob the prosecutor.
NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SANDS Prosecuted.
THOMAS BUNTING . I am a sailor—I live at 182, Victoria Dock Road—on March 28th I went to the Seamen and Firemen's Union Office, Tidal Basin Road, after I had been paid off the ship Evangeline—it is about 50 or 60 yards off—I then went to the Marine Hotel, and had a bottle of soda water—after I had paid 14s. 6d. to the Union, I counted £2 3s. 6d. that I had left and put it in my left-hand trousers pocket—as I was on the foot-bridge I received a blow on my neck which knocked me down—Clark struck me under my left ear and fell on my knees—he took the money off me, and two of the others held me—he went down my pockets—I got up and gave chase towards the Tidal Basin Road—Cook knocked my legs from under me—I got up and gave chase again, and called to a Union man—I saw all four prisoners standing at the corner of the bridge—when Cook tripped me up Clark got out of sight—the other prisoners got in front of me to prevent my going on—I was sent for to the Police-station the next morning, where I picked dark from seven or eight men—the following Monday I identified White and Martin, and Cook last Friday, at the Police-station—I have no money, and have lost my ship—I heard Martin talking when I was running on the bridge, and again recognised his voice as well as his face.
Cross-examined by Clark. I saw nobody on the bridge till I began to feel for my money—you had a blue muffler, not the black one you have on now.
Cross-examined by White. I saw you on the bridge about 12.45—you and Martin held me while White took my money.
Cross-examined by Martin. I said at the Police-station I did not see anyone but White till you sat in a chair and spoke to me, when I recognised your voice—you were not put in a line for me—I was not drunk at the station—the robbery was about 1 o'clock.
Cross-examined by Cook. I did not say at the West Ham Police-court that I saw you 35 yards away—I identified you because you had a brown coat and waistcoat, and by your features.
Re-examined. My book shows that I was paid off about 12.30.
THOMAS GALE . I live at 8, Devonshire Road, Custom House—I am employed at the Union Office, 27, Tidal Basin Yard—I am 15 years old—I remember Bunting coming in on March 28th and leaving, go into the Marine Hotel, and come out; our office is opposite—he went towards the railway station—I was half the way across the road—on the top of the bridge I saw three of the prisoners hold Bunting, and Clark take his money and run towards some white gates—Bunting tried to follow—the three men tripped him up—Bunting fell on his knees, and they all walked away—I picked out Clark at the Police-station on Friday from eight other men, Martin on the Monday, White the same day, and Cook two weeks later—Cook was wearing a brown suit when this happened, which was a little after 1 o'clock.
Cross-examined by Clark. You wore a blue and white handkerchief.
Cross-examined by White. I knew you all before—I said before the
Magistrate, "I cannot say that White was one of the four men who set about Bunting," I meant I could not say for certain that you hit Mr. Bunting—I saw you help the others to hold him—I have known you 13 months—I have seen you with the others before—I did not identify you at first—I heard you address one another, and knew your names—the robbery was a little after 1 o'clock—I saw Cook trip Bunting up.
Cross-examined by Martin. I had not seen you before that morning—I am sure you are one of the four who held Bunting—I have known you about as long as White—you ran towards the Victoria Dock; Cook walked quietly across the road in front of the Marine Hotel, and then walked away with Clark.
Cross-examined by Cook. I could see from the road what happened on the bridge.
GEORGE BRYANT . I am 15 years old—I am an office boy employed in the Tidal Basin Road—when Bunting, the sailor, was robbed I was standing with Gale outside the Union Office—I heard a cry, and then I saw a scuffle and struggle between the prisoners and the prosecutor, and Clark ran down the steps off the bridge—I saw Cook walk down the stairs and away—Bunting called out, and came to speak to a gentleman in the Union Office—he tried to follow Clark—Cook and Martin prevented him—Cook dodged in front of Bunting—I have known the prisoners about a year—I have seen them together before—I identified three of the prisoners, but not White.
Cross-examined by Martin. The robbery was on top of the steps of the foot-bridge—I was standing with Gale outside the Union Offices—I have seen you in the basin Road, but not before that day.
Cross-examined by Cook. It was about 1 o'clock—you stood at the bottom of the steps a couple of seconds and then walked away towards the white gate to the left of the bridge, facing it—I recognise you by your face.
WILLIAM SULLIVAN . I am a delegate of the Sailors and Firemen's Union, at their offices, 727, Tidal Basin Road—I know Martin well—on the day Bunting was robbed, about 12.15, I saw him in the East India Dock Road, about eight minutes' walk from the Tidal Basin railway bridge—he asked me what time the Fifeshire was going to pay off; I told him at 1 o'clock in the Victoria Dock—I know all the prisoners—I have seen them together in the same quarter—I saw Cook twice between ten and twelve that morning, close to our office—I have not seen White for two months.
Cross-examined by Martin. You walked towards the Tidal Basin bridge—you attend ships that pay off.
Cross-examined by Cook. I reported you to the police officer.
Re-examined. I take particular notice of the prisoners and three others who are not here—Martin was dressed in a black suit, not his working clothes—Cook always wears a brown suit.
FREDERICK HATFIELD (K 191). On March 28th I was on duty in the Mercantile Marine Office, Tidal Basin, 30 or 40 yards from the place of this robbery—I have known Cook for years—I spoke to him in the office about 12.45—he was dressed in a brown suit.
By the COURT. It was while the men of Bunting's ship were being paid
off, and I asked him what he was doing there; he said he was looking for a ship.
Cross-examined by Cook. I have seen you at the pay office before—I was not present when you signed on the Arcadia for Montreal.
Re-examined. He was in the office about five minutes.
ERNEST COLLINGRIDGE (313 K). I am stationed at Canning Town—about 7.30 p.m. on March 28th I was on duty in the Victoria Dock Road—I had information of the robbery, and descriptions given to me—I said to Clark, "I want you; I am going to take you into custody for being concerned with three other men in robbing and assaulting a man at the Tidal Basin foot bridge about 1 o'clock to-day"—he said, "You have made a mistake; I don't know anything about it"—I took him to the station—Gale and Bryant came and identified him at once from seven or eight other men—the identifications were separate—on April 1st I was with Constable Frisby in the East India Dock Road; I saw White and Martin standing outside the Board of Trade Office—I know them in the district—when we got near them they ran away—after a long run I caught Martin—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with other men in robbing and assaulting Thomas Bunting on March 28th on the Tidal Basin bridge—he made no reply to that—on the way to the station he said, "I can prove where I was"—he was identified by Bryant and Gale separately—Martin was afterwards identified by Bunting.
ROBERT FRISBY (378 K). I was with Gollingridge—I caught White; I told him I should take him to the station on suspicion of assaulting a man and robbing him at the foot bridge of the Tidal Bridge Station—he said, "All right"—I took him to the station—Gale and the prosecutor identified him from seven other men—he made no reply to the charge.
FRANCIS CRONK (573 K). On April 17th I went to 29, Crown Street, Tidal Basin—I said to Cook, "I am going to take you into custody for being concerned in assaulting a seafaring man, along with Clark, Martin, and White—he said, "I suppose on suspicion, like Clark"—I took him to the station—he was identified separately by the prosecutor, by Gale, and by Bryant from seven others—when the charge was read over he said, "All right."
Cross-examined by Cook. I inquired at the Victoria Dock of Brooks, the foreman, and found the name "Greenwood" was entered for work, but it is impossible to identify you.
Re-examined. Brooks' place is 15 or 20 minutes from where Cook lodged—it is impossible for the foreman to say whether every man goes back to his work.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate: Clark says: "I have witnesses to call." White says: "I can prove where I was by my witnesses." Martin says: "I have witnesses to call." Cook says: "I can prove that I was at work at 1 p.m. on March 28th."
Evidence for Clark.
HENRIETTA TUCKER . I live at 8, Surrey Street, Tidal Basin—Clark lives in my house—he was in bed on Thursday, March 28th, up to 1.50—his mother kept saying to me, "My boy is not up yet," and when a boy came for him he came down in his trousers and socks to see the little boy, and then he washed himself, and went out about 2.20—in the evening a
boy came and told his mother he was locked up—I never saw him with any other than a black tie.
Cross-examined. He does not often lie in bed; that is why his mother kept saying, "My boy is not up yet"—she said it about three times—our house is about five minutes' walk from the Tidal Basin—I was at work washing indoors all the morning—I always do it on a Wednesday, but we had the sewers up, and we had to put it off till Thursday—I heard, between six and seven, that Clark was locked up—it must have been before seven, I would not be sure—I was in my room when I heard it—I had not heard that he was not locked up till 7.30.
MRS. CLARK. I am the prisoner Clark's mother—he was indoors on March 28th up to 1.50, when little Teddy Madden came to say his sister wanted him, and I sent his little sister Sarah to wake him up—he came down, and told the boy he would come in 10 or 20 minutes—he went out after getting washed.
Cross-examined. I was doing my work downstairs—my son's room is over the kitchen—I was up and down stairs two or three times—I looked in at his door, as he was not up—his father was not sleeping in that room—my son had no breakfast—we had no dinner—when father works, at night and sleeps in the day I give the children some German sausage, and my son could have had some if he had come down—I went to the prisoner's room between ten and eleven, not after eleven, because I took father's breakfast up—I heard between five and six, as near as I can tell, that my son was locked up—a little boy told me—my son stays in bed in the day; now and again—this morning he had a bad finger—he had been to the hospital with it—he has lain later in bed, and would have lain, but the boy came—it was his middle finger; it was poisoned—he had no work; he works at the dock now and again—he goes out to get work—he did not go to look for work—he had been in and out and back again.
EDWARD MADDEN . I live at 25, Francis Street, Tidal Basin—I went to tell Clark my sister wanted to speak to him—I heard from my sister on the Friday that Clark had been taken up—I heard on the Thursday of the robbery, and of Clark being taken up—I went at 1.50 on Thursday and asked if he was in—his mother sent his little sister upstairs to wake him, and he came down in his trousers, shirt, and socks.
Cross-examined. Clark's sister told me I had to go and give evidence the next morning after he was taken up—my sister is engaged to be married to Clark—he said he would be round in 10 or 20 minutes, and I went off to school—I had not been to his house before—my sister told me where he lived, at the bottom of my street—his sister told me when I went round for him that he had been locked up—my sister said, "Go to No. 8"—I did not know Clark till he came to court my sister—his mother came out and said, "What do you want?"—I said, "H. J. Clark "—she said, "Sarah, go upstairs, and wake your brother up"—he came downstairs with his trousers, shirt, and sweater on; a white thing over his body.
ELLEN MADDEN . I live at 25, Francis Street, Tidal Basin—I was before the Magistrate—I sent to see Henry Clark on Thursday, March 28th, at 1.50—he came to my house at 2.20, and stopped till three—he wore a black handkerchief; he always does—I never saw him with a coloured one.
Cross-examined. I sent my brother to say I wanted Clark—when my brother came home from school I told him Clark had got looked up.
Evidence for White.
WILLIAM WHITE . I live at 16, Rivet Street, Tidal Basin—on March 28th all the family were at home—the lad Cook called for the prisoner White at 12.40—he was told that White was not in—I saw him—my daughter spoke to him—my son went out soon after with two more young; men in the street—I followed him—I went to the station to go to work at the Tidal Basin—I told him to go back, as the coal work would be too much for him, and I left him on the station and caught the 1.24 train for my work—there are two bridges to go to the station at five or six yards apart—I did not see him again till 10,40, when I left my work—he worked for me at Beckton—we had 16 or 17 tons of coal to ship.
Cross-examined. My house is about three minutes' walk from the bridge—I saw White go out at 12.55—I was with him till the Limited yard bell rang at 1 o'clock, then we walked up to the station together—I caught him up in my own street about three or four minutes after he had gone out.
Cross-examined. I said the truth before the Magistrate—my deposition is correct—(This was read, and nothing found about his son being with him at 1.24.)—the train takes three minutes—Beckton Gas Works is ten minutes from the station—I could not have said before the Magistrate that I left my house at 1.10—if I said it it is a mistake—my son was in my presence all day.
WILLIAM WHITE, JUN . I am the prisoner White's brother—I live at 16, Rivet Street, Tidal Basin—on March 28th I got up about 11 or 11.30, and my brother got up soon after—we sat talking till 12.45, when I started taking my things off for a wash—about 12.55 a knock came at the door—someone called for my brother, dressed in a dark suit—I only saw his back—he went with this chap and stood up the street talking to another man whom I did not know, and I saw no more of him till I got home at 10.40, and he was in bed.
Cross-examined. I went to work in the same train with my father—he was there when I got to Beckton—I had had my dinner when the chap came to the door—I waited 15 minutes for the prisoner—the chap that called had a brown coat on—I could not swear to the suit, it is so long ago—the chap who called had a black coat and waistcoat—I only saw one with a black suit—I did not say a brown coat—the police put it down as a pepper and salt—I have been in trouble for assault, and I got a month for unlawful possession—I cannot say about twice for theft—I have said, "I went to the door and saw the prisoner talking to a man in the street; I went to work with father; we caught a train about 1 p.m. from Tidal Basin"—that is not correct—that train does not leave till 24 past, I think, I cannot say now.
SARAH ELIZABETH HARVEY . I live at 16, Rivet Street, Tidal Basin—I am married—I am the prisoner White's sister—I was in his presence when a young fellow named Cook came for him on Thursday, March 28th
—I was going round to Alice on an errand about 1 o'clock, when I saw way brother with a bookmaker's clerk writing up a bill about a horse; to post by the Railway Tavern, opposite the station—my brother said, "You might put this bill on, as I have not got time to catch my train to go to work"—I next saw him by the urinal at the bottom of the station, and I saw no more of him till he came home at night.
Cross-examined. My father was indoors when I went out—my brother William, I believe, was in the yard doing his machine up—I had gone about 10 minutes when I saw the prisoner—the station is about five minutes' walk—the Limited yard men were going in—I do not know Cook—he called that day—I saw him; he came for my brother—my brother did not go out with him—the bookmaker's place is just round the corner—two persons called for my brother, Cook and the bookmaker's clerk—Cook was not very clean; he looked as if he had been in flour or chalk—I did not notice the colour of his coat; it was very dark, and he looked very untidy.
Evidence for Martin.
ELIZA MARTIN . I am the mother of the prisoner—he was not working on the day of the robbery—I did not call him till just after 10 a.m.; just before twelve he went to fetch his father's tools from the South-Western Dock—I do not know how far that is—he got back soon after twelve—we had dinner between a quarter and half-past twelve—he went out after dinner—I did not see him again that day.
Cross-examined. I do not know how far my house is from Tidal Basin Road—I do not know where the robbery took place—my son went out between ten and eleven, and when he came back he said he wanted to be out by 2 o'clock.
WALTER MARTIN . I am the prisoner's brother, and live at the same place with him—I saw him on the day of the robbery at home between eleven and twelve, when I came home for some tools—I went away and saw him again in the evening.
Cross-examined. Montasque Street is about 20 minutes' walk from Tidal Basin—the robbery took place about 20 minutes' walk from Montasque Street.
Evidence for Cook.
EDITH COOK . I am Cook's wife, and live at 29, Crown Street, Canning Town—on March 28th my husband went out about 6 a.m., and said he was going to the Albert Dock to look for work—he came back at 12.20, and stayed in the house about 15 minutes, and had some dinner—he went out and said he was going back to work—I saw him again at 8.20 p.m.—Crown Street is about five minutes from the footbridge.
F. CRONK (Re-examined). Montasque Street is five minutes' walk from the scene of the robbery.
Clark's Defence: It is a case of mistaken identification, I have a witness to prove it, but he will not come up without a subpoena. The police have taken his statement.
GUILTY .—CLARK, WHITE and MARTIN then PLEADED GUILTY to former convictions; Clark at West Ham on November 24th, 1900; White at the Thames Police-court on March 6th, 1897, as William Harris; and Martin at West Ham on April 2nd, 1898. Several other convictions were
proved against them, and Cook had had seven days' imprisonment as a suspected person. CLARK— Three years' penal servitude. WHITE and MARTIN— Eighteen months' hard labour each. COOK— Twelve months' hard labour.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Recorder.
351. LAWRENCE LEADER (42) PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering four documents, purporting to be medical certificates, with intent to defraud. He received a good character.— Discharged on his own recognizances.
(352) PETER KEOGH (31) and WILLIAM THOMPSON (38) , to a robbery on William Walter White, and stealing a watch and chain and 9s. 6d., his property. Two convictions of assault were proved against Keogh. KEOGH— Nine months' hard labour. THOMPSON— Three months' hard labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. DOD Prosecuted.
GEORGE WILCOX (295 L). About 8.20 on April 1st I was called to 49, White Hone Street, Kennington—I found the proseoutrix in the passage, bleeding very much from a cut in the head—I called a doctor, and sent her to St. Thomas's Hospital—I went upstairs, and saw the prisoner—he said, "Hallo!"—I said, "What have you been up to?"—he said, "She came upstairs for the rent; a struggle took place, and I do not know what happened"—he was sober; he showed signs of having been drinking—I afterwards examined the place; I found blood on the landing, outside the prisoner's door, also this portion of a razor handle (Produced) with blood on it—I found a cut on the fourth finger of the prisoner's hand—I told him I should charge him with cutting the woman—I took him down stain, where he was attended to by the divisional surgeon—at the station he said, "I do not know anything about it—it was all in the dark; the stairs are so dark."
ELIZABETH ROSE . I live at 49, White Horse Street, Kennington—I am the tenant of that house—the prisoner lives there in two rooms with his wife—on April 1st I went to his room, knocked at the door, and asked him for my quarter's rent—he said, "Go downstairs, and I will send it down"—I said, "No; give it to me now"—he said, "I will cut your b—throat"—he owed me £3 5s.—I saw him pick something up, and I felt myself injured—I saw a razor in his hand—I remembered no
more after getting down the first flight of stairs—the prisoner is an Army pensioner, and I allowed him to go the last quarter, as he was out of work—when he got his pension I wanted my rent to pay my way—he drinks on and off, I think, but I do not watch his actions—I was at the hospita almost a fortnight, and I have attended this week as an out-patient—I was injured on my face and throat.
SARAH PACK . I live at 49, White Horse Street, Kennington, on the first floor, below the prisoner—on the night of April 1st I saw the prosecutrix going upstairs towards the prisoner's room—I heard her knock at the door, and heard her say, "Mr. Doyle, please give me my rent"—he said, "I cannot give it to you to-night; wait for to-morrow"—she said, "I cannot wait till to-morrow; you must give it me now"—he said three times, "Will you go downstairs?"—she said, "Not until I get my rent"—he said, "If you don't go downstairs, I will cut your b—head off with this razor"—I heard a slight scream and a splashing like water—I ran out of the house frightened, and heard no more—I called for the police.
CHARLES MAY . I am a labourer, of 49, White Horse Street, Kennington—I occupy the first floor front room—I heard the prosecutrix go to the prisoner's door on the night of April 1st—she said, "I want my rent"—I did not hear any reply—I did not go outside till I saw her on the stairs; she was then bleeding from a wound in her face—I helped her down into the kitchen; then the police and a doctor came—I did not hear any disturbance upstairs.
THOMAS BURFIELD . I am house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—about 9.30 on April 1st the prosecutrix was brought there—I found two cuts on the right side of her face, one extending to the mouth and one just below the angle of the jaw, both on the same side of the face—they were dangerous because of their locality—they were about 1/2 in. deep—the lower one took a somewhat oblique direction—she was in the hospital about 12 days—the wounds might have been inflicted by a razor—they healed very well, but she will always have some paralysis on that side of her face, and she does not seem very well now; that is probably due to the shock.
JOHN KITCH (Police Inspector, L). About 8.30 p.m. on April 1st the prisoner was brought to the station—I said to him, "I am going to charge you with attempting to murder Elizabeth Rose by cutting her in the face"—he said, "I do not know anything about it; it was all in the dark; the stairs were so dark"—the charge was read over to him—I went and searched his rooms—in a tin bowl under the washstand I found this blood-stained razor, with the handle broken; it was wet—on the table I found an empty razor sheath and two other razors, and on the foot of the bedstead I found a soldier's tunic wet with blood, also several large stains of wet blood on the floor and on the table in the room—outside the door, on the landing, there was a large pool of wet blood, as well as on the stairs and on the first floor—the prisoner had been drinking.
The prisoner, in his defence, said that the prosecutrix had been drinking; that she seized him by the right hand earlier in the day, and would not let him go; that when she knocked at the door she pushed it open, and then
said she would throw him through the window; that he said if she went downstairs she would get her rent; that she Would not leave the room, and, to frighten her, he got his razor; that it was in the dark and that she got the wound accidentally.
GUILTY .— Eighteen months' hard labour.
354. HENRY LEWIS and (35) ISAAC KAMBISH (45) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Edward Clark and others, and stealing 130 Russian hides and other goods. Second Count: Receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen.
MR. MORGAN Prosecuted; MR. CHARLES MATHEWS appeared for Kambish,
and MR. GREEN for Lewis.
ARTHUR HAYNIS . I live at 20, Crowndale Road, Camden Town, and am a furrier in the employ of Joseph Clark & Sons, 76, Dean Street, Soho—I have been with them about nine years—I left the manufactory at 23, Tanner Street, Bermondsey, between 6 and 6.15 p.m. on February 20th—I locked the door, put up a bar, and a padlock on to the bar—my father was with me—next morning I went again between 8.30 and 8.45, which is the usual hour—I went to undo the padlock, but could not get my key in—I found a new padlock on; then I saw the door had been forced—I went to the Police-station—I returned and forced the door—I took an inventory of the goods I had the fight before, and found there were 130 Russian hides, 33 Kipp butts, 2cwt and 561b. of leather, and 221 Cropp lining legs missing—90 of the Russian hides were undressed and 40 were in dressing—I have seen the goods which have been recovered, and have identified them.
SAMUEL DELMONTE . I am foreman to Messrs. A & H. Leon Bros., 15, 17, 18, Artillery Lane, Bishopsgate—on February 21st Kambiah came there about 6 or 6.30 p.m.—he had a sample of tanned skin with him; I had seen him before—he asked if the leather would be of any use to us—I told him it was a very bad time of year for coloured stuff, owing to the Queen's death and trade being so bad, but I would put it before Mr. Leon—he returned next day, and Mr. Leon asked him where he got the leather—he said, "I got them at a railway sale, for which I paid 1s. 5d. per lb.; the reason I got them so cheap was because other people would not bid Against me, being a bad time for coloured stuff"—it was tan leather—on the following Sunday, the 24th, he came again with the bulk, which was 126 skins.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. Kambish came quite openly—I made no note of what was said to Mr. Leon—the things were brought on a barrow—there were two lads with Kambish.
ALEXANDER LEON . I am managing director to A. & H. Leon & Co., boot manufacturers—I remember Kambish coming to our place on February 21st; my man saw him, and he came again next day—he offered me a sample of some tan hides—I said I was not buying that colour because of the Queen's death—he bothered me, and said he could ell them cheap, so I said he might bring the bulk, and I would look at he m—he said he bought the stuff at a railway sale—on the following
Sunday he brought the bulk; the foreman examined them, and said some of them were not as good as the sample—I pointed that out to the prisoner on Tuesday, the 26th—he said, "Well, I will let you have those at the cost price; they cost me 1s. 5d., and the others at 1s. 6d."—I bought the lot for £22 2s.—this (Produced) is my cheque—on March 19th I communicated with the police.
Cross-examined by MR. MATHEWS. I knew Kambish before; he had been in several times—I do not know that he sells on commission—I have made purchases of him in a small way—the conversations we had were in English—he is a Polish Jew; there is great difficulty in understanding him, and he has great difficulty in expressing himself—I saw a lad with him when he came—I did not see the goods brought; I think they were brought in quite openly—the cheque is endorsed "I. Kambish"—Kambish cannot write; I do not know who prepared this invoice—I do not know anything about the endorsement on the cheque.
JOHN EDWARD SOUTHWELL . I am manager to the prosecutors—I bought these hides in three bales—part of them have now been taken off at the neck—there were two stamps on them, the name of the manufacturer and the word "Russia"—those have been cut away; they bore a similar stamp also at the tail; they also had our own private mark on them—the value of the whole property taken was £225, cost price—I think the value of those recovered is about £90 or £95—they weigh about 3£lb. to 41b., and we bought them at a very low price; they cost us 18s. 9d. per hide, which is about 5s. to 5s. 6d. per lb.
WILLIAM KEMP (Police Sergeant, M). On March 19th I was with Sergeant Davis—I saw the prisoners walkingalong Old Street, City Road, together, each carrying a brown paper bundle; I stopped them and said, "We are police officers; what have you got here?"—Lewis said, "What is it? Why, leather"—I looked at it and said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "Of a man named Rosenthal"—I said, "Where does he live?"—he said, "18, Arundel Street, Baker's Row; I bought it of him over a month ago"—they were placed in a cab and conveyed to Bermondsey Police-station—I told them the property was identical with some stolen from Dover Street—Lewis said, "I gave Rosenthal 1s. 2d.a lb. for it"—I said, "Have you got a receipt?"—he said, "Yes, I have got a receipt"—I said, "Where is it?"—he said, "It is in my other jacket pocket at home; it hangs on the wall in the kitchen; if not, it is on the file in the shop; I gave him £5 16s."—I said, "Have you any witness, because that is very important?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Who is it?"—he said, "I do not know his name, or where he lives; I have known him several years, and I cannot tell yon where to find him; I have had the skins in the shop all the time"—turning to Kambish, he said, "He knows nothing about the job; he is only helping; pray let him go, poor fellow!"—they were detained at Bermondsey Police-station, and I went to the address given by Lewis—I eventually saw Rosenthal—I asked him to come to the station; he there saw the two prisoners—I said to Lewis, "Is this the man you refer to?"—Lewis said, "Yes"—he said to Rosenthal, "About those skins I bought of you?"—at that time the two bundles were on the table, so they could see them—Rosenthal said, "I don't know anything about it"—Lewis said, "If he says so, then, I am done; you had better believe him, and let it go"—he
meant believe Rosenthal—Rosenthal is in a small way of business—he has a private house in Arundel Street, and the front room is used for making boots—Kambish said, "I am only helping him"—he spoke in very good English—on March 20th I went to Leon's place in Artillery Lane, where I found a large quantity of skins—I took Mr. Leon to the Police-court, and he identified Kambish as the man who sold him the skins—Kambish said to Lewis in a low tone, "Yes, they have found them'—Lewis said, "Shut up"—I searched Lewis's premises—in the bottom drawer of a chest of drawers, under some things, I found these two Post Office Savings Bunk books, in the name of Mr. H. Lewis, 162, Old Montague Street, one showing a deposit on March 4th, 1901, of £10; in the other a deposit on March 4th, 1901, of £50, both witnessed by Dora Kambish, the prisoner's daughter—on March 27th, just as the prisoners were going into Court, Kambish said to me, "Please, sir, one minute; on the day I went to Mr. Leon, in the morning, Lewis brought me a sample, and asked me to find a buyer; I went to Mr. Leon, and on the following Sunday I went to Lewis's shop with my son and a barrow, and we toot all those hides you have got to Mr. Leon"—turning to Lewis, he said, "You know that is the truth"—he said that in English.
Cross-examined by MR. GREEN. When Kambish said that Lewis made no denial of it—he has all along accepted the responsibility—he gave a correct address—I told Bosenthal I was a police officer, and that he had been accused by Lewis—that he had given him stolen hides—Rosenthal knew why he was going to the station—the hides found on the prisoners when we stopped them are quite different to the ones sold to Messrs. Leon.
HARRIS ROSENTHAL . I live at 18, Arundel Street, Bethnal Green—I know Lewis—I have never bought any hides from him, or sold him any—on March 19th I went with Sergeant Kemp to Bermcndsey Police-station, and saw the prisoners there—Kemp said to Lewis, "Do you know that man?" pointing to me—Lewis said, "Yes"—Kemp said to him, "Did you buy those hides from that man?"—I said, "What hides? I do not know anything of them"—Kemp said to Lewis, "Now, what do you say?"—he said he had bought them of me—Kemp asked him what be had paid for them—I believe Lewis said, "£5 10s."—he asked him how much a lb.—he said, "2s."—then he asked him how many pounds there were, and he said he did not know—Kemp said, "What have you got to say now?"—he said, "I am done; let it go."
Cross-examined by MR. GREEN. I have known Lewis two years—I have sold him six dozen girls' boots—I did not sell him 21 dozen skins three months ago—I used to buy my nails from him—I did not go to his house in February, taking two samples of leather with me—I did not say that I had a large quantity of mamal tan and a large quantity of Russian hides for sale—he did not say he could not buy tin, but he could black—he did not say he would buy the mamals if they were a small lot, and if I would sell them for 1s. 9d. a lb.—he did not say he knew a man named Kambish who sold goods—I did not say, "Why don't you take them round to Mr. Kambish at Umberstone Street?"—I did not say, "I am a manufacturer, and it is not nice for me, but if yon get them sold I will pay you for it"—I have not got a banking account—Lewis brought me this cheque for £22 2s.,
payable to Kambish—I paid it away to Messrs. Warmington Brothers, of Bethnal Green—I went to Lewis one day to buy my grindery, and he asked me to cash the cheque, as it was too late for the bank—I cashed it at Warmington's, and he met me, and I handed over the money to him—I do not know whose writing the endorsement is in—I have not cashed cheques endorsed in a similar writing for Lewis—I have not cashed any other cheques for him—I have a daughter; she cannot write much; she is 15.
Lewis, in his defence, on oath, said that he bought the mamal tan from Rosenthal at 1s. 9d. per lb.; that Rosenthal told him to take the Russion hides round to Kambish; that he did so, and Kambish said that he could sell them for 1s. 6d. per lb.; that after Kambish had sold them he gave Lewis the cheque, which he took to Rosenthal, who gave him 25s., out of which he gave Kambish 15s.; and that the £60 in the bank was received from Mr. Cohen, of Church Street, for the sale of some paper and a last and some pieces.
Kambish, in his defence, on oath, said that Lewis asked him to sell the leather for him, which he did, and that he made 15s. commission on it; that when he was arrested he was carrying the leather for Lewis, who said that if they could sell it he would give him (Kambish) a commission on it; that he did not know the goods were stolen and that he sold a lot of goods for Lewis on commission.
Both prisoners received good characters.
MR. MORGAN said that he did not wish to proceed with the charge against KAMBISH.— NOT GUILTY . LEWIS— GUILTY on the Second Count . The police stated that Lewis carried on his business simply as a blind, and was a reeeiver of stolen property.— Twenty months' hard labour.
The JURY added that they thought it very reprehensible of Leon & Co. to take the goods at the price they did. The RECORDER made an order of restitution as regards both the money and the property.
Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.
MR. DRUMMOND Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.
JAMES HENRY GRAINGER . I live at 46, Basing Road, Surrey Gardens Estate, and am potman at the White Hart at Kennington Cross—on April 6th, about 2.30, the deceased came in with another man; they both looked the worse for drink, and I refused to serve them—the prisoner was acting as temporary potman, and I asked him to ask them to go out—I did not hear him ask them—I went on with my work; I saw than go out; the prisoner followed them—I did not notice him come back.
Cross-examined. The prisoner had beep employed there just about a week, while we were short-handed—I knew him before; I always found him to be a humane, good-tampered man.
THOMAS WILKINSON . I am an engine-driver, of 11, Cleaver Street, Kensington Cross—about 2.30 p.m. on April 6th I was turning the corner from Kennington Cross into Cleaver Street; outside the White Hart, I saw the prisoner and the deceased—I heard the prisoner say, "He
called me a b—s—"—two more men were standing against the door of the public-house—the deceased turned to his right and the prisoner to his left, to walk away, but turned back again, and struck the deceased on the left ear; he fell down like a log, and never moved—the prisoner stood back a little bit then—I stepped into the road, to pass them; at I passed I saw, that the deceased was bleeding—I stopped down and picked him up, and sat him on the kerb—I said to the prisoner, "You have done something; you had better get inside"; he went inside—some people helped me to put the deceased up against the house, and I sent for a constable—I was not two yards away when I saw the blow struck—I did not hear the deceased say anything when the prisoner said, "He called me a b—s—"
Cross-examined. There, was another man four or five yards ahead of the prisoner—I did not see him come back when the deceased fell—the deceased turned as if he was going to walk away, just before he was struck—he had no, stick in his hand—I did not see him put his hand up just before he was, struck—I have seen the prisoner outside the public-house, these last two years—I have always thought he was a quiet, steady man.
ELIZABETH JARVIS . I live at 24, Prince's Square Kennington and am the wife of Frederick Jarvia—on April 6th, about 2.30 p.m., I was opposite the White Hart—I saw the prisoner and the deceased outside the door—the prisoner had his back towards the public house, and the deceased was standing near him—there was a third man, on the kerb—I saw the prisoner give the deceased a blow, I think it was in the face—he fell in the roadway on the back of his head—the prisoner went into the public-house—a crowd collected then.
Cross-examined. When I first came up there were only three people there—I did not see Wilkinson there then—I saw him pick the deceased up—I did not see the deceased put his hand up just before he was knocked down.
FREDERICK SMITH (340 L). About 2.40 p.m. on April 6th I was called by Wilkinson to a man outside the White Hart—I found the deceased lying across the, footway with his back against the public-house, bleeding from the back of his head—he was unconscious—I procured an ambulance and conveyed him to the Divisional Surgeon, who examined him, and directed his removal to St. Thomas's Hospital, where I took him.
Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner about 13 years as a quite and inoffensive man—he rarely speaks to anybody unless spoken to.
THOMAS HENRY EDWARDS . I am House Surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital—the deceased was brought there on April 6th about 3.30 p.m.—he was unconscious, and had a large wound on the back of his head, which was bleeding—he was also bleeding from his left ear—he died next morning without having recovered consciousness—on April 8th I made a postmortem examination—there was a large bruise on the back of the head, and the skull was open—there was a fracture starting directly under the bruise and running round the skull on both sides—the brain was very much lacerated underneath the bruise, and there was a lot of h✗aemorrhage into the skull—the injuries looked like the result of a fall on the block of the head which was covered with blood and mud—I saw no signs of a
blow—if there had been a blow of any strength I should have expected to find traces of it—it is impossible to tell if a man has been suffering from the effects of drink when ho is unconscious—if a man suffering from the effects of drink had a not very heavy blow, I should not expect to find traces of the blow.
Cross-examined. A man who is drunk would fall easier than a man who is sober—he would fall down with his full weight.
JOHN HENRY WHITE . I live at 4, Cyril Road, Walworth, and am an insurance agent—I went to the Lambeth Mortuary and identified the body of the deceased as that of my step-father—he was 53 years old, and was a carpenter—he used to periodically have drinking fits.
HENRY WRIGHT (Inspector, L). On Saturday, April 6th, about 3 p.m., the deceased was brought to the station on an ambulance; he was unconscious—I had him removed to St. Thomas's Hospital—later in the afternoon I saw the prisoner at the station—I said to him, "You will be detained here at present, and will be charged with assaulting a man at present unknown"—he replied, "He insulted me before I hit him"—about 2 o'clock next day I saw him again and said, "The man Suttaby is dead, and you will now be charged with causing his death"—he replied, "All right"—when he was charged he made no reply.
CHARLES KEYS (Detective Sergeant, L). On Saturday, April 6th, I saw the prisoner in Cleaver Street about 3 p.m.—I told him I should take him into custody for assaulting a man outside the White Hart public-house, Kennington Cross—he said, "Yes, I know I hit him, and he went down; he should not have called me a f—b—and other things"—on the way to the station he said, "Is he much hurt?"—I said, "He is unconscious and in the hospital."
Cross-examined. I have made inquiries about the prisoner which go back for 24 years—he has borne a good character as an inoffensive man—he has been employed in his present situation only a few weeks, but he was eight yean in one employment and eight and a half yean in another—he has always conducted himself as a peaceable man—I have known him six or seven years, and confirm the result of my inquiries.
The prisoner, in his defence, on oath, said that he asked the deceased and the other man to go out of the public-house; that they went, and he followed 'them, to prevent them coming back; that they called him names, and wanted to fight; that he told them to go away, and shoved the deceased with his open hand on the side of the neck, and that he fell down on the kerb; that he did not strike him a blow, and that he did not know when he went back into the public-house that the deceased was injured.
Evidence for the Defence.
THOMAS BROWN . I live at 4, Lamford Place—on April 6th I was in the White Hart—the prisoner and another man came in; they were both intoxicated—the barman said to them, "You cannot be served here; you have had enough"—the prisoner said to the deceased, "Come along, old chap; out of it; you cannot get anything here"—he followed the two of them out, and stood against the door—I went out by the other door—when I got outside the prisoner was standing close to the door, and the other two men a little further along, the deceased on the kerb—the prisoner told them to go away—the deceased wanted to go into the public-house
again, and called the prisoner a fool name—the prisoner seemed to half push him on the jaw; I do not think it was with his closed fist—when the prisoner pushed the deceased seemed as if he was going to strike the prisoner or get into the public-house again—the prisoner is a total stranger to me.
Cross-examined. I am very seldom at the White Hart—the deceased was swearing in a loud voice—I walked away after the man fell, and went home—he fell on his behind and then on his head; it was not a straight fall.
T. WILKINSON (Re-examined). I did not see any sign of the deceased trying to get back into the public-house—I should think the blow would have been a very funny push; the man fell at once, straight down like a log.
Cross-examined by MR. HUTTON. I did not see the deceased put his hand up—I should say the prisoner's hand was open.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUTTON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
357. FREDERICK WILLIAM MILLER and MARGARET ANN MILLER were again indicted for unlawfully and wilfully neglecting Frederick Miller, aged about 11 months, in a manner likely to cause him unnecessary suffering and injury to his health.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted, and MR. ROUTH Defended.
MARY WEBB . I am the wife of John Webb, a platelayer, of 3, Chandler Street, Battersea—the prisoners occupied two rooms in my house till last June—when they first came they had two children, Frederick, about four or five, and Ruby, about two or three—about April or the early part of May, the female prisoner went away to be confined; she returned with a baby which was afterward scalled Dorothy—she was a nice, plump, healthy looking baby, small but plump—the prisoners left in June—the baby seemed to be getting on nioely then—the man was at work all day sometimes—the woman never did any work—the children were left alone day after day—sometimes the woman went out between 9 and 10 a.m., and would not return till between 5 and 6 p.m., and they have been left alone all day crying with no one to feed them—I used to give them food to stop their crying—when the woman returned she always appeared muddly with drink—the man was often in drink.
Cross-examined. When they left me all three children were well—the woman did not tell me that the baby was born prematurely—I did not go into the prisoners' rooms many times, but the children used to sit on the landing outside my bedroom door—the woman did not appear to be weak-minded—when she was out of drink she spoke very well—my little boy was
ill for 12 weeks, and I used to beg the female prisoner not to leave her children crying, but she took no notice—I never saw her bring drink into the house.
By the COURT. They were in my house about four months—I was their landlady—they paid 5s. 6d. a week rent.
ELIZABETH SMITH . I am the wife of Horace Smith, of 58, Steward's Road, Battersea—the prisoners came to my house in June, and occupied two rooms on the top floor at 6s. a week—they brought three children with them, Frederick, Ruby, and the baby, Dorothy—I thought Dorothy was in fairly good condition—she was not a large child, and not over fat—she appeared healthy—about two weeks after they came the mother lost her breast milk, and she said she would bring it up on the bottle and some patent foods—I noticed that the child was gradually wasting—I advised the mother to go to a doctor—she said she would do so, or take it to the hospital—I advised her to see a doctor about six weeks after that—she said she had not been, and I advised her to go to the parish, and they would supply her with food free—she said she would do so—I did not see the baby for some time; when I did see it she was getting worse than ever, and I insisted upon her taking it somewhere, and she took it to St. Thomas's Hospital—she only took it there once—no doctor ever came to see it till Dr. Kempster came—the other children were always hungry, and I fed them—when my own children threw away their food the poor little ones would pick it up and eat it ravenously—my children would throw away pieces of bread and butter, cold potatoes, or the scrapings off the plates—on April 4th I went into the prisoners' rooms—the baby was dying—it had not been Washed—I had spoken to the female prisoner about the condition of the children, and when I did she always washed them—I saw her and the two elder children every day—the husband was in a position to see their condition; he lived in the house—he went to work sometimes, and sometimes his wife would be calling him to get out of bed—sometimes he would not go to work—he came home at nights—I have seen him drunk on pay days; nearly every week—he never brought his money home—the woman had to go to the bar to fetch it—I have said to him, "If you earn money, as I have heard you do, more than you give to the missus, I shall go to the relieving officer and ask him to make you bring it home and give it to me for the children"—sometimes he has answered me, and sometimes be has simply laughed.
Cross-examined. I do not remember if I have said before that I told the prisoner I would go to the relieving officer—the woman never beat her children; there was never a bruise on them—apart from the children being dirty, there was nothing to show that the prisoners did not love them—the woman has borrowed money from me, to buy food and give it to the children—she said she could not afford to take the baby to the doctor, but she would 'take it to the hospital—she told me she fed the child according to the directions which the doctor gave her at the hospital, but I found she did not do so—she went to the hospital six weeks before the child's death—it was about 10 months old when it died—I never went into the prisoners' bedroom, or saw the bed—I have seen things that could be remedied, but I have not seen filth there—the children were dirty; they could not have got so dirty by simply playing about—the baby
would have a halfpenny-worth of milk to last it all night sometimes; the children had water or tea sometimes—the male prisoner told me he went out to get some condensed milk for the children; I do not know if he did—the prisoners never prevented me or my husband from seeing the children as often as we pleased—three or four days before the baby's death the woman brought It in her arms; it was moaning, and my husband asked her to let him see it—she showed it to him, and he was horrified.
Re-examined. On that day I lent her 6d., to get some food for the children—she said her husband was going to get her some money, and she went out, and returned, crying, with only 4d.—he came in shortly afterwards, and I heard them having words—she said he had smacked her face.
HORACE SMITH . The last witness is my wife; I am a plumber—the prisoners came to my house last June with three children—I saw Dorothy the same night that they came; she did not seem to be a large baby, but she was healthy—I did not see her again for a couple of months; then it looked very bad and thin—I told the mother I thought she ought to get medical advice about it—she said she would do so—the other children appeared to be neglected—the parents appeared to give way to drink—then Inspector Thwaites came—I think he saw one of the prisoners—I was out at the time—after he had been the children seemed to be a little better looked after—the improvement lasted about two or three months; then I noticed that the parents got dilatory again; they seemed to be going back to their previous habits—I remember the female prisoner bringing the baby in on April 3rd—it was nothing but skin and bone; it appeared to me to be dying—I said to her, "If I were a woman I should take the child out of your arms and give you a good hiding"—I do not know what she said—I wrote to Inspector Ross—he came next day.
Cross-examined. I have heard the male prisoner say, that when he was the worse for drink it was through his mates, who gave him drink—I only saw Dorothy three times—it did not occur to me that the female prisoner was a woman of weak intellect—her conversation was what I should expect from a woman in her class of life—the male prisoner was out of work about October—when he was employed he would sometimes be on night work and sometimes at day work—he was working for the Projectile Company—I leave for work about six in the summer and 7.30 or eight in the winter, and return home about 7.30 or 8 p.m.
Re-examined. I never examined the children closely to see if they were clean or dirty—I never went into the prisoners' bedroom.
EUSTACE THWAITES . I am an inspector of the N.S.P.C.C.—on November 21st I went to the prisoners' house, and saw the female prisoner and three children—the elder ones were in a filthy condition; heads verminous, poorly nourished, and their clothing ragged and insufficient—Dorothy was emaciated; both rooms were in a filthy condition; the floors in the bedroom were black with dirt, covered with refuse, and smeared with excrement—the bedding was black with dirt, soaked with urine and excrement—I spoke to the woman about it—I called again at 7.30 p.m., and found a great improvement.
Cross-examined. I told her that her rooms were insanitary, and that
her children should be cleaner—she said she had had a lot of trouble, and that her husband had been out of employment—it occurred to me that she was not of very strong intellect—I called about a month afterwards—I heard that by that time the husband had got work—I did not go upstairs; I made inquiries, and was satisfied.
CHARLES ROSS . I am an inspector of the N.S.P.C.C.—on April 4th I went to see the prisoners and their children at 9 a.m.—I only saw the woman and the children—Frederick and Ruby were poorly nourished, and very dirty and verminous—their clothing was ragged, insufficient, and verminous; their bodies were dirty and bitten by vermin—Dorothy was lying on a bed in the front room, which was in a filthy state; it was saturated with urine and excrement, and very foul-smelling; she appeared to be a mere skeleton—her nightgown and diaper were saturated with urine and excrement, and her buttocks and thighs were very much inflamed and red and raw as far as the napkin went—she was moaning, and appeared to me to be almost in a dying condition—I called the woman's attention to the child's condition—she said, "I do the best I can for my children; Dorothy has been delicate from birth; she is only a seven months' child, and weighed 5 1/2 lb. when born. I have not taken her to a doctor, but I took her to St. Thomas's Hospital five weeks ago, and I fed her as directed by the doctor. I did not have a card or a letter, so I did not take her again. I have not the means to pay for a doctor, as my husband is only earning very little money, some weeks 20s., others 13s. and 11s. and 12s.; I had 11s. last week. I will apply to the relieving officer, and get the parish doctor to see Dorothy to-day; I went yesterday, but I was too late"—I then left, and called Dr. Kempster, who attended at 10 a.m. and examined the children—I returned with him—Dorothy was then in the kitchen, lying on a temporary bed; the room was in the same condition as it was when I first saw it. I had been there on November 24th, and saw both the prisoners—they were then both very much the worse for drink—the children were lying on the bed in the front room in a filthy condition—I did not see them between November 24th and April 4th.
Cross-examined. I found no sores on the other children—Ruby did not look very well; she looked well in the face, but she had the appearance of having been shut up in the foul air for some time—her face was pale and bloated—a great many children get emaciated from being given wrong food—I cannot say whether this child had been delicate from its birth—if a child's napkins are not changed often enough, that will cause sores.
MR. HUTTON proposed to put in further evidence to show that the neglect was not accidental, under Sec. 18 of the Children's Act (Archibald, page 845), although the dates between which the neglect was charged were included in the indictment. MR. ROUTH submitted that the evidence might have been admissible if the dates had not been included, but that as they were, the evidence came outside the section. Upon MR. JUSTICE PHILLIMORE suggesting that it would be rather hard upon the defence to put the evidence in, MR. HUTTON withdrew it.
FELIX CHARLES KEMPSTER . I live at 59, Bridge Road, Battersea, and am Divisional Surgeon of Police, Civil Surgeon to the War Office, Medical Referee to the County Courts, and District Medical Referee to the London
School Board—I went to the prisoner's house with Inspector Ross on April 4th—I saw the children in the back room—Frederick's head was verminous, the glands of the neck being enlarged, showing a chronic verminous condition—the body was vermin-bitten, filthily dirty, and foulsmelling; his clothing was verminous, very old, ragged, and filthy; his under-clothing consisted of a portion of an old knitted vest, which had huge lice on it—he appeared to be ill—I examined Eleanor, aged three years—her head was verminous and dirty, and she was practically in the same condition as Frederick—Dorothy was very thin and emaciated—she weighed 6 1/2 lb., including a napkin and an apron; if she was 11 months old she should have weighed 17 1/2 lb.—I was told she was 12 months old, so she should have been 18lb.—the buttocks were red and raw, and wherever the napkin touched she appeared to be scalded and the skin to be loosened—she was moaning, and appeared to be in pain and almost dying—her head was dirty, her body was vermin-bitten and dirty, her belly was distended—the napkin was saturated and dirty—I sent for further medical assistance—in the front room there was only an old bedstead; the bedding consisted of a straw mattress, which was filthily dim and very foul-smelling—the floor of the room was begrimed with dirt—the other room was not so dirty—there was a little box by the side of the fireplace, on which Dorothy was lying when I arrived—the mother was feeding the child from a dirty feeding-bottle with sour milk—the tube itself would turn the milk—on the 9th I made a post-mortem examination, assisted by Dr. Nobbs—the child died from exhaustion, due to the non-assimilation of food; either from improper or insufficient feeding—I was of opinion that it was rather insufficient than improper—if it had been improper there would have been signs in the bowels—with the exception of a slight enlargement of the mesenteric glands, I found no disease whatever—the mesenteric glands could not have caused the wasting—the child was weakly, and would be very likely to suffer from dyspepsia—the condition of the room alone and their dirty state would be likely to cause the children unnecessary suffering and injury to their health—Dorothy being left alone on a bed like this one was would cause her unnecessary suffering—the health of the elder children was affected at the time—they are very pasty; they will recover with care—Dorothy was certainly in want of medical aid for some considerable time; it was obvious to anybody.
Cross-examined. I did not prescribe for Dorothy—I told the mother she should fetch immediate medical aid—I only went to examine the child, not to prescribe for it—I told the mother how to feed it; medicine would have been no use—the officer of the society would have supplied brandy and milk—he was there when I told the mother how to feed the child—I think the mother was muddled with drink then—I observed her carefully—I believe Inspector Ross saw the child first at 9 a.m. on this day, and I was there by 10 o'clock—a seven and a-half months child would require extra care and attention—the greater proportion of children born prematurely do not arrive at manhood, especially if they are not fed properly—if the woman was a drunkard that would affect the quality of the milk—there were no signs of scrofula about the child, or of eczem—the elder children did not complain—I have made no inquiries into the
woman's family history—I have heard several statements, but I do not know if they are true.
Re-examined. A child being in this raw condition would be likely to be injured in its health.
ATHELSTONE NOBBS . I am a registered medical practitioner, of 339, Queen's Road, Battersea, and am Poor-law officer, among other appointments, for that district—on April 4th I received an order to go and see the child Dorothy, I got there about 1.30 p.m.—I went into the kitchen; the room was not dirty then—Dorothy was in her father's arms—her clothes were lifted up for me to see her legs—I agree in the main with Dr. Kempster as to the condition of the child—I think it was due to insufficient changes of the napkins; that would cause it unnecessary suffering and rawness—it was very much emaciated, therefore requiring treatment; that was obvious to anybody of ordinary intellect—I gave the child no hopes when I saw it—I did not think it was likely to live another week—the condition of the room would be prejudicial to any child.
Cross-examined. I was present at the post-mortem—I saw the child in the afternoon of April 4th—I prescribed "Virol" for it, which is a very strong stimulant—the parish dispenser had run out of "Virol," and he gave it something else, which did not agree with it—I saw the mother; I think she is mentally deficient—I did not think then that she was muddled with drink; her speech was rather agitated, which one would expect—it is sometimes difficult to define between a highly excitable person and a person suffering from alcohol—I saw no vermin sores on Dorothy—I did not examine the other children.
Re-examined. I do not think vermin could have been on the baby's head without my seeing them—I am not prepared to say whether it was vermin-bitten on the body or not—a long course of drink will aggravate mental deficiency, and it weakens the intellect—I do not think I noticed any inflammation of the canal bowel; I should not expect to find it in a child dying from ill nutrition—I do not think this child's appearance was consistent with the appearance of its dying from starvation—a child which had been starved would bear a similar condition to this child, but not identical with it.
HUBERT NEVILLE . I live at 17, Peverill Street, Battersea, and am employed by the Projectile Company—the male prisoner has been employed by us since November 22nd; since then his average earnings have been £10s. 5d. per week; he was paid by piece-work—the most he has earned in a week is £116s. 11d., and the least 9s. 11d.—working at full time, he could, on an average, have earned about £1 7s. a week.
Frederick Miller, in his defence, on oath, said that he had been out of work for some time; that when he was in work he was away all day, and that his wife looked after the children; that patent foods were given to the baby, and that he had himself bought food for it; that it was taken to the hospital; that he never noticed that the children were filthily dirty, but that the boy might have picked up vermin at school; and that he had never wilfully neglected his children.
Margaret Ann Miller, in her defence, on oath, said that Dorothy was a delicate child, and suffered very badly from diarrhoea; that she changed the napkins several times a day; that she took the child to the hospital, and
followed the instructions given her; that she would have taken her to a doctor if she could have afforded it; that her children were never dirty; that she never wilfully neglected them; and that when she left them alone she was out looking for rooms.
DR. NOBBS (Re-examined). There is always a tendency to diarrhoea in children.
DR. KEMPSTER (Re-examined). The excoriation went up as far as the navel—diarrhoea would not account for that—if the napkins had been changed I should not have expected to find so much excoriation—there was no inflammation in the canal bowel—there was nothing to lead me to believe that the child had been recently suffering from diarrhoea.
GUILTY .—The JURY considered that the slender means of the prisoners and the absence of any actual cruelty should he taken into account,— Nine months' hard labour each.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
358. FRANK HERMES (28) and ADAM LUCKERT (22) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Marmaduke Valentine Smith, and stealing a knife, fork, coat, and other articles; HERMES also PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Harvey Dawson Thomas, and stealing two umbrellas, a purse, a cash-box, and £3 10s., his goods and moneys. (See page 516.)
359. FRANK HERMES was again indicted with AGNES SCHMIDT (37) for breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Elvina Straker, and stealing a guitar and other articles, and 6 3/4 d., her goods and moneys. Second Count: Receiving the same. HERMES PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. PICKERSGILL Prosecuted, and MR. DRUMMOND Defended.
ELVINA STRAKER . I am a widow, of 17, Argyle Terrace, Brockley—on Thursday, March 20th, I went to bed about 1 a.m.—the house was properly secured—I was called about 7 a.m.—I went into the dining-room, and found the window open, and the room in great confusion—I missed three umbrellas, this locket, tablecloth, brooch, and guitar—this is my husband's umbrella, and this brooch, cross, and guitar my daughter's—these ribbons belong to the guitar.
CHARLES HAWKINS (Detective Sergeant, W). On March 25th I went to 1, Rupert Street, Soho, and when I had searched the place Schmidt arrived, wearing this chain and locket, and carrying this umbrella—I found these ribbons on the drawers, with initials on them—I showed them to her—she said, "My mother made them for me while I was in Germany"—I found a tablecloth and a brooch in the same chest of drawers—she said, referring to the brooch and locket, "Gang brought those home, and gave them to me; but my mother gave me those ribbons."
Cross-examined. I am certain she said that—she also said, "Me only ive with Gang one week"—she did not say that she had come from her mother's in Germany, and Gang had given her the things—she speaks English very imperfectly.
take her in custody for being concerned with two men in custody in committing burglaries in the south of London, and that the sergeant had found the property there—she said, "Me only lived with Gang one week," meaning the prisoner Hermes; "he would go out of a night, and come home early in the morning, always with a parcel, which he always said he found in a public-house, and he make me a present"—I took her to the station—she was charged, and made no reply.
Cross-examined. She gets excited—you can understand her sometimes, and not at others.
Schmidt's statement before the Magistrate: "I did not know they were stolen."
Schmidt, in her defence, through an interpreter, stated, upon oath, that she had known Hermes two weeks as "Gang"; and had lived with him one week; that what she said to the detective about the ribbons was, "Gang gave them to me when I came back from Germany, from a visit to my mother," not that her mother gave them to her; that "Gang" gave her the other things, and she had no knowledge that they were stolen, as he told her that he was a night waiter and porter at a club, and that someone had left the umbrella at the club, and that on some occasions he found the parcels at a public-house; that he had the ribbons in his possession when she came from Berlin in the middle of March, where she had been for ten days; and that he did not say how he came by them; that she first met him at a concert where she used to sing, and knew him for two weeks before she went to Germany; and that a ticket from the Steamship Company for her box was found in her purse.
C. HAWKINS (Re-examined). I did not find a ticket in her purse relating to her box or to her journey to Germany and back, only two pawn-tickets.
SCHMIDT— NOT GUILTY .
No evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
The police stated that Hermes tried to strangle one officer, and had been once convicted in England in the name of Gang, and several times in Germany, that he belonged to a gang of burglars; and that Luckhert tried to kick one of the officers in a very dangerous part.
HERMES— Twelve years' penal servitude. LUCKHERT— Seven years' penal servitude.
MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' hard labour.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 13TH,1901.